Black Purity

They call me Edward Elric.

They also call me Ed, Fullmetal Alchemist, ex-dog-of-the-military. I like to call myself a traitor and a fool.

Recognize me yet?

Or how's this: a stupid, stinking son-of-a-bitch, and the murderer of my greatest love.

I am truly my father's son, though I hate to admit it.

oOo

A man lazily stretched himself out on his front porch, a cold glass of lemonade in hand. Ahh, he thought to himself. What a wonderful day to kick back with an ice cold glass of lemonade, enjoy the weather, and soak in the sun. He sipped the icy lemon concoction. Oh yes, this is the life!

He paused that train of thought, listening intently. He thought he heard something other than the squabble of birds, fighting for who would have the biggest worm. He tried to identify the sound through nearly-deaf ears. Screaming, maybe?

Sure enough...

Squinting up into the sun, the white-haired old man tried to identify the source of the screaming. Maybe I should just blow the thing up, he mused. He paused. Naaah.

Curiousity kills the cat, as they always say, and it nearly killed the lemonade-sipping man. The plummeting figure landed straight into the ground, face-first with a sickening thud. The man, having narrowly dodged the man-meteor, peered cautiously over the edge of the man-made crater while rubbing his aching back. Behind him, the screen door to the house opened, and a white haired woman tottered over, a black dog at her heels.

"What--?" she stammered, reaching for her back pocket.

The man with the eyepatch straightened up, and ran a hand through his white hair. "Leave the gun in your pocket, Riza," he said, smiling smugly. He looked casually over his shoulder. "It seems the Fullmetal Alchemist has returned."

oOo

I returned to reality with a killer headache and a couple of old people leaning over me.

"Um...hi."

The old woman with the white hair peered at me and shook her head, tsking all the while. I caught a glimpse of her eyes before she hobbled off. Amber eyes.

"Hey, old man," I said, sitting up. "What happened? Where am I?"

"A few hours from Rizenbool. But you're in my house, so I'll ask the questions," the old man said haughtily, crossing his arms, though he looked at me oddly, as if I was highly dangerous, and might explode at any given minute. "Who, what, when, where, why, and how, please."

I scowled at him, but relented. "Ed, ex-State Alchemist and scholar, don't know when, few hours from Rizenbool in your house, no idea why I was airborne, don't know how. Happy?"

I heard the old man sigh, and for a while there was nothing but silence. The old woman came hobbling back, a teacup in her hands, and a black dog behind her.

"You can tell me the truth," said Gramps finally. "I won't tell anyone, except my wife. I promise." He grinned at the woman holding the teacup, and she smiled back.

"You shouldn't be over-excerting yourself yet," she chided, handing me the tea and a spoon. "And you should get your automail limbs looked over, too. They're probably in poor condition now from the fall."

I frowned as Granny helped Gramps stand up. How did they know I have automail limbs? I had my gloves on, afterall. And socks.

I watched as they hobbled to the door together. Must be nice, to grow old together, I thought wistfully. I wish I could have grown old together with Al and Winry. Wonder what they were up to, anyway...

"Drink your tea while it's hot, Fullmetal," called Gramps.

oOo

Ed felt his cheeks grow flaming hot as the truth dawned on him.

"Who are you?" he blurted out just as the old woman reached to close the door. Her wrinkled, calloused hand stopped inches from the knob as she formed her answer. The dog yipped happily in the hallway, and Ed heard that the old man had paused too, listening.

"Get some sleep, Edward," was all she said as she shut the door softly.

The Fullmetal Alchemist leaned back against the pillows with a little smirk on his lips. So, it was true...Roy and Riza had tied the knot, eh? And that dog was probably one of Black Hayate's great grandchildren or something. Of course, none of that was hard to figure out; one look at that coal black eye and amber eyes gave everything away. As for the dog...well, some things are that obvious.

Smiling contently, he sipped the tea Riza had brought him. A light hint of milk and honey flavored the warm liquid, and Ed let the tea work to soothe his aching head. His smile faded quickly, as he realized what time had done to his old friends. Old friends. As in old old friends. If Roy and Riza had become bent with age, wrinkled and wizened, what had become of Winry and Al? Were they the same?

Of course, Ed himself had grown old on Earth. He was a wise man, sought-after scholar. He'd grown a snow-white beard (which was oddly missing now), and his eyes were kind, if not a bit distant. He had married a woman that looked identical to Winry, though she died giving birth to their firstborn.

Enough! he told himself. I need to get some sleep. I'll ask Roy when I wake up...

He peeled off his gloves to put at the nightstand beside him, but froze as he realized that he had a pair of youthful hands.

oOo

Suddenly, I felt sick. The breath caught in the back of my throat, and I fumbled through the blankets, to get to my feet. In my haste, one minute I was tangled up in the blanket, and the next minute I was on the ground, wheezing and groping blindly for my socks.

A strangled cry errupted from my lips as I ripped the socks off my feet to reveal a pair of young men's feet. I felt my face. Smooth skin.

There was footsteps on the stairs. Hurried, quick steps, and a thump, as if someone had caught themselves before a fall. I was standing in front of a full-length mirror by the time the door flew open.

"Edward!" Roy grumbled. "Get back to bed this instant! You're not well enough to be up!"

"Now, don't you sound like a worried parent?" I mumbled, staring perplexed at my reflection. Gold hair, tied back in a ponytail. The face of a man in his late-twenties or early thirties stared back at me.

I heard Roy mutter something about being a parent of four children, or something along that line. Riza picked up the blanket and laid it across the bed, and Roy crossed the room to stand beside me.

"Surprised?" he said, eyeing me with his eye. "Wonder why you haven't aged much at all compared to the rest of us."

"I must have been reincarnated here," I stare still at myself. "After all, the zepplin killed my other self on Earth."

"Let me get this straight," said Riza. "When you were sent through that door sixty years ago, you were in the body of your 'other' self? And then you got yourself, or rather your other self, killed by a zepplin? So when you lived on the other side of the Gate, another you was born on this side? And now you're in his body?"

"Yep, that's got to be it," I say.

Riza stared at me for a moment, and then gathered the empty teacup and left the room.

"So," I continued conversationally. "How's Al and Winry? Still kicking?"

"Al died a few years ago. He was a good, honest old man. After you left for the last time, he moved to Central and became an officer in the military. High-ranked. After a few years, he retired and bought a plot of land back by Rizenbool and became a farmer. Said something about wanting to spend more time with the wife and kids. He married a fine lady, and had two children. Edward was the older one, Maes was the younger son. They both work in the military. Colonel and Investigation Department." Roy turned to open the window, saying nothing more.

My heart clenched painfully. Al dead...I wasn't there for anything. Not his marriage, not his children's births, not even his death...I was a horrible brother. Roy said nothing as I tried in vain to fight the tears.

"And what about Winry?" I asked, sniffling.

Roy said nothing, but stood by the window, facing away from me. He sighed, and closed his one eye. My blood turned to ice in my veins. "Tell me!"

"There is nothing to say."

For a moment, I stared at his bent back, trying to figure out what he meant. The sick feeling of dread overcame me. "What?"

He remained silent, and didn't turn to face me.

"You'd better tell me now," I demanded. "Or I'll rip you to pieces!"

"Don't."

"TELL ME!" I scream, bunching up my fists at my side.

Roy sighed from the window. "No," he said flatly. "You'd be better off not knowing."

"TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME-"

I knew I was making an awfully childish display of myself, but I wanted to know. No, I needed to know. I didn't care what I had to do, and I think I could've killed him if he had kept me in the dark any longer.

"Shut up!" glowered the former colonel, finally spinning around from the window. "You're going to make me more deaf than I already am!"

"Then you tell me what's happened to Winry!"

He scowled at me, but relented. "She's not dead, if that's what you mean."

I sighed, relieved.

"But she would be better off if she was."

Colonel Bastard strikes again.

oOo

"What do you mean by that?" Ed screeched as Roy made his way across the room to the door. Seeing this, the blond alchemist clapped his hands together. "Oh no, you don't!"

A flash of white lightning streaked across the room, and metal bars errupted in front of the door. Riza's footsteps could be heard from the stairway. Ed crossed his arms in front of his chest and smiled smugly. "Now you have to tell me."

Roy paused, and blinked. "Are you stupid? I can just transmute my way out of here!"

"But I'm not going to let you until you tell me!"

"I'm not telling you for your own good! If I tell you, you'll just barge over there and give her unnecessary trouble. I'm sparing you both!"

"I'll spare you if you tell me!"

Roy's shoulders sagged; he knew he couldn't win this fight against the stubborn hot-head. "Fine, I'll tell you. But in return, promise you won't go see her."

Ed waved it aside. "Get to the point!"

"She's...not herself. We tried to help her, Ed. We really did."

Roy Mustang transmuted the metal bars, and exited the room, leaving a very confused Edward behind.

oOo

I could hear my former co-workers muttering outside my room.

"Do you think it was okay to tell him that?" came Riza's scandalized voice. "He could run off right now, and torment the poor woman...You know how she is now, she can't bear to see anyone now."

"Better to have told him now," I heard Roy say darkly. "Than to have him run off himself and find out the truth."

Grimly, I had to agree. I hate to admit it, but my temper does influence the way I act more often than not. And that can be a bad thing when dealing with Winry. I decided to leave the house today, and as soon as possible. I had to see her.

"I've told him not to go see her," said Roy, now sounding as if he was trudging down the stairs.

"Well honestly!" Riza protested. "Do you really think he'll listen?"

"No, but at least he was warned."

"Roy!"

I heard a pair of footsteps shuffling down the stairs, and I crept out the door and down the stairs as quietly as I could. Their voices could still be heard in what I assumed to be the kitchen. The smell of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies wafted toward me, and I realized how hungry I was.

Outside of the house, a horse shied, and a babble of excited talk was clearly audible. More footsteps, and I quickly sidled against the corner, hidden from most passerbys.

"Must be the kids, Riza!" said Roy, sounding excited. He opened the front door. "Ah! Just in time! Your mother just made a batch of cookies."

"It's been a long while, Dad," I heard the voice say happily, and the shuffle that meant a salute. "The kids were really excited and all-"

"Now, now, Balion," Roy reprimanded. "I retired years and years ago. No saluting me!" His attention shifted to the little children behind his son. "Evangeline! Ethan! You've grown sooo much since I last saw you!" I heard the children giggle, and I guessed that Roy had made a comical gesture.

Riza hurried from the kitchen. "Balion! Marietta! How nice to see you both!" Mother-in-law embraced the daughter-in-law. "There's cookies in the kitchen," the ex-sharpshooter told her grandchildren, and I heard them race to the kitchen. The scrapes of the stools against tile meant that they had found the chocolatey treat.

"Here, let me put your stuff in the guest rooms," Riza offered.

"No, it's okay Mother," said Marietta. "Balion and I can put them up. We know where they are. Don't trouble yourself."

I waited until they retreated, either to the kitchen, or upstairs to the guest room, and I snuck out the open door. Silently, I transmuted a boquet of fresh flowers and laid them on the porch as a thank-you.

oOo

Luckily, Edward caught sight of a passing farmer with a wagon of crops on the road an hour later. A few minutes of negotiation later, Ed found himself sitting amongst crates of produce. He wasn't much of a vegetable person, so he decided for some fruit. Reaching into a basket of plums, he selected a particularly supple one, and sunk his teeth into its flesh.

"Help yourself," the farmer told him, a few gold coins jingling happily in his pocket. "We're about an hour from Rizenbool now." He pointed to a roadsign. When the farmer was focused on driving the pair of brown horses, Ed studied him carefully. There was something real familiar about the guy, down to his fingernails.

"Yep." Absently, Ed reached into a crate and pulled out a bottle of milk. Popping the top, ready to wash down the fruits, he took a large gulp and choked.

------

An hour later, the wagon pulled to a halt in front of a familiar, small home.

"Here! Stop here!" Ed shouted, his nerves going haywire at the sight of the house.

"Rockbell Automail Shop?" the farmer looked incredulously at the rundown building. "What would you want to do here? A crazy old woman lives here. She'll probably murder you the moment you knock on the door." He eyed Ed suspiciously. "You're not going to try and barter the house from her, are you? Or the burnt down property on the other side of the hill? She'll definitely kill you if you try."

"Oh? And why is that?" Ed asked innocently

"She keeps saying she's waiting for him," the farmer explained, shaking his head sadly. "But everyone knows he's dead. Gone. Bought the farm. They all stopped trying to convince her so years ago."

"Sounds like an interesting tale..."

"Oh! Hey, wait a minute! You wouldn't happen to be a journalist, either, would you?"

"Nope." Ed shook his head.

The farmer was quiet for a moment. "Damn smart woman. Wished she could have continued making automail, though. A lot of people could do with good quality limbs, instead of those cut-rate ones they sell in town." He rolled up his left sleeve to show Ed an automail arm. "Got this made by her about thirty-five years back, when I was serving in the military and had my arm blown clean off by a machine gun. Last automail piece she's ever made. Lasted all these years, too."

"Yeah, she makes the best automail in the world..."

"Ah! But what am I doing here, babbling on about this? I've got produce to sell!" the farmer said hastily. "And I have to get home before dark or my wife will skin me alive!" He hitched up the horses and looked over his shoulder at Ed. "Hey, good luck...Brother."

And then he was gone.

"Al...?"

oOo

I shook my head. Roy had told me Al...died...when he was an old man. This farmer was a man in his forties. Or if he aged well, in his fifties. So stupid...

But then again, the farmer had pretty much evaporated on the spot. Or the sun playing tricks on my eyes? I really didn't know.

A cold shiver went down my spine. I made my way up the dirt path and up the creaky stairs.

Knock knock.

There was no answer, but the door creaked open slightly.

Looking at the Rockbell residence- is it even Rockbell? Was she married?- I could see that it was in serious need of repair. The stairs were falling apart, the roof half-caved in. I clap my hands and repair the damage with alchemy. I frowned as I discovered a broken window on the side porch. Knowing Winry, she would have fixed those in a heartbeat. So I scouted around the home and fixed up any exterior problems.

Then I went inside.

oOo

Dark.

That was one word that could summarize pretty much what the home was like. Only bits of light peeped in through slits in the black curtains. Mourning colors... Ed thought bitterly. He wrinkled his nose at the smell, sneezed, and sent up a cloud of dust from the pile of books stacked on a rickety table.

This is what she's living in? A soft moan escaped his lips, at the sight of the house in such disorder. He felt terrible...leaving Winry to cope by herself for all those years when he'd...

Clapping his hands together again, the dust gathered and formed a large boquet of assorted fresh flowers in bright colors. Setting those on the stack of books, Fullmetal continued to examine the empty home. A small stack of dirty dishes lay in a heap in the filthy sink. Automail bits littered an old worktable, the nuts and bolts strewn about the floor. The home was utter chaos- the housekeeper's worst nightmare.

And his Winry was living in it.

Without wasting any more time, Edward set about cleaning the house. Quickly, he cleared all the dirty dishes, scoured the sink, and organized the automail. He swept the floor, replaced broken light bulbs, scrubbed the shower, and even cleaned the toilet. When the first floor was sparkling and bright, he decided to venture upstairs and fix whatever he could, too. Checking around the bedrooms, he could find nothing. He was about to enter the last room of the house- the bedroom he had stayed in sixty years ago whenever he had visited- when a faint rustling noise stopped him in his tracks.

"Win?" Ed cautiously pushed the door open. The room hadn't changed at all, save for the fact that there was a small bulge moving restlessly under the blankets on the bed. The room was strangely immaculate, compared to the rest of the house. "Win? Winry, is that you?"

A scratchy, croaking voice nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"G-go...away..."

The voice was faint, as if unused for many years. If Ed wasn't sure the bulge was Winry, the voice would have been unrecognizable. A silence followed the statement, broken by haggard breathing. His or Winry's, Ed wasn't sure.

"W-winry? Winry, it's me. It's Edward." He felt rather shaky, and his voice was equally croaky as her's.

Silence.

"Winry, please talk."

"Go...away." The voice gained slight strength.

"Winry..."

"You're...you're not...him," she elaborated in her slow, quiet voice. "He's not...coming...back for...me..."

Ed felt like vomitting. He could literally taste the bile at the back of his throat. With very shaky footing, he miraculously made it to the edge of the bed without collapsing. "Winry..." He felt for the cover, trying to pull the blanket off her. His fingertips barely grazed her shoulder, and she flinched, unused to any sort of contact. The shoulder was emaciated, and when the blanket slid off her bony frame, Ed found himself staring into familiar blue pools of shimmer.

It was then that Ed fully realized how bad the situation was. He had been blind, so foolish, to try to convince her. A strangled gasp came from each of their throats, and the man fell back hard against the wooden floorboards. Those blue eyes were startlingly familiar, but the hurt and agony clouded them to the point that they were almost unrecognizable. Almost. Wildy lost eyes, Ed realized despairingly.

Waist-length, snow-white hair fell in an untidy ponytail at her skinny back. The face was hauntedly sunken, cheek bones unhealthily prominent from sunken eye sockets. Her thin, white eyebrows swooped in an high arch on her gaunt face. Her dry, cracked lips opened and shut soundlessly. Her collarbone jutted out from the thin blue fabric of her pajamas. His old pajamas, Ed realized. Bony hands with short yellow fingernails gripped the linen sheet tightly, and small bony feet with equally short yellow toenails shifted, as if searching for blankets she could pull over herself.

Winry curled up in fetal position, staring at Edward with bewildered eyes. "You..." Her thin hands flew to her pale face.

Ed smiled wryly. "Hey, Win."

oOo

Still beautiful.

My Winry was still as beautiful as ever.

I reached out with a trembling hand to touch her, but she flinched again before my hand even came two inches from her. Shrinking back, I decided this wasn't the best way to approach her. I opened my mouth to say something, but she beat me to it.

"I hate you, Edward Elric."

The sentence was stutter-free, spoken dangerously quiet. I stared at her for a moment, flabbergasted. "What?"

"I hate you!" she exclaimed passionately.

I couldn't say anything, and my mouth hung stupidly open.

"I hate you!" she repeated. "Get out!" She looked at me with wild eyes, swatting her hands at me. I let her hit me, and her nails raked across my right cheek. I could feel blood going down my cheek and on my chin. "Leave!"

"Winry," I said as her barrage stopped, and she half-sat on the bed, wheezing. "I'm sorry."

She blinked, and for a moment, she seemed to have become her old self. "You've never said that before..."

"Yes, I have!" I retorted before I could stop myself. After those words ripped from my mouth, I quickly shut it, and stared at her pillows.

She blinked again. "When were you ever sorry? Were you ever sorry when you broke my masterpieces and came back for new ones? Or were you ever sorry for deserting me?" Her voice gained strength, and the last two words echoed lightly in the room.

"I'm sorry for everything, Win..."

She sunk back into the pillows. "I'm tired..."

I bought groceries while she napped. And while she dozed away, I prepared a nice dinner. A few hours later, I knocked on her door to bring in her food. I shook her shoulder lightly, to wake her up. She never did open those blue eyes again.

oOo

Epilogue

The man on the rocking chair is bent with age, stoop-shouldered and wrinkled. He is telling the circle a tale, and they listened in hushed silence. At last, the old man's tale draws to a close, and he looks amongst the crowd with golden eyes.

"What do you think of the story, my dear boy?" he asks the lad.

"Was is his fault she died like that?" the boy asks, his eyes bright.

The old man ceases his rocking and ponders. At last, he resumes slowly rocking back and forth. "Some say Edward blackened her purity, stole her heart. They say he ruined her, drugged her on the poison of his love."

The crowd cranes forward to listen to the old man, and his voice drops ever lower.

"But perhaps he did," he says. "And perhaps she stole his too, once upon a time."

x

x

A/N: Okay, so the story's OOC and doesn't quite go along with the movie. but hey, I've never seen the movie. But I want to know how everyone thought about it. It's definitely different than the other EdWins, because it's not Ed that's the main victim. About the Ed flying through the air in the beginning? Just say he took over the body of some air-quality maintenence worker or something of the sort lol ahh plot bunnies. Oh well. I hope you all know that it's a sin not to review after you've read a story. So review!