Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Any dialogue I took from it, I totally stole from the scans available on One Manga. I'm shameless.
Warning! This contains blatant spoilers up to chapter 75ish, and implied spoilers (that if you knew them should hopefully have this fic make more sense) up to chapter 102ish.
This is how the world ends (in five easy steps)
"I can give you knowledge, Van Hoenheim."
Twisted grin, greedy eyes, and- nononono,don'tgivemeyourknowledge,iknowbetternow,leavemealone-
But instead- "Who are you? What… What's your name?"
The grin twists like a knife as he seals his fate.
"Why don't you just call me 'Homunculus'?"
v.
Somewhere along the line, Hoenheim knows that his and Homunculus's morals differ considerably. It's not so much in anything outright said as it is in the subtle sneers and condescending truths. But Homunculus is his teacher, and in an odd way friend, so Hoenheim ignores his more questionable beliefs and focuses on the advice he gives him.
"No, no, Hoenheim! That array is all wrong, fool! You're just going to wreak the chair more if you try that. No, you see, you have to switch the positions…"
Hoenheim listens carefully to Homunculus's corrections and follows them closely. For though Homunculus may be a harsh and usually caustic critic, he is also always right and saves Hoenheim from potentially disastrous mishaps.
Standing over the newly corrected array, Hoenheim takes a deep breath, and claps his hand to it. Immediately he can feel the surge of power, sees the pieces of the chair come together and right themselves. Irrationally, for that moment he feels invincible like a God, and it doesn't matter how many times Homunculus hammers in that 'Alchemy is just a science, really' because he swears that there is something magical and indescribable in that feeling.
"Did you see that Homunculus? I did it; I fixed the chair, my alchemy worked!"
"Ok, ok, Hoenheim, no need to get too excited. You would've failed if it hadn't been for my instructions."
Homunculus must note Hoenheim's slight frown, for he adds, "Still, it was a good and solid display of alchemy, if simple."
And Homunculus smiles. Not his usual wild, twisted, grin, but something slightly softer, more understated and, if not exactly kind, certainly not mean.
It is these moments when Hoenheim does not regret his choice in teacher.
"Thanks, but you were right before. I still have a lot to learn, I guess…"
"Well luckily, we're going to be together for a long time I think, Van Hoenheim. Now, let's continue with our math, shall we?"
And if Homunculus's smile turns from soft to possessive, Hoenheim pretends not to notice.
iv.
Izumi Curtis is a brilliant alchemist, and it is no arrogance of hers to admit it. She knows the power that flows through the world, all is one, one is all, knows how life and death fit in with each other, knows that without the one there could not be the other.
So then, she knows that this cannot be right. It does not fit with the flow.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Curtis, but your child was stillborn."
No. That's not right, that cannot be right. There is no way a child, her child, can be dead before it has even begun to live.
The doctor leaves, and Sig hugs her tightly, she thinks she can feel his tears upon her hair. But she, she has no tears to waste, nothing except numb cold shock.
She is an alchemist. She is brilliant. She will fix this.
And she will make her alchemy into more than just a science. More than just life or death or anything she knows so that her son can breathe.
Numb shock turns into grim determination, and the world's flow is temporarily disrupted.
iii.
This is wrong, should be Roy's first thought, but instead it is this is beautiful.
And it is, in a sick, demented way and – oh god, this is all tattooed on Riza's back, how could Master Hawkeye have done this to his daughter? That's just wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong- he is completely captivated by it. The salamander twists, and the red ink shines, and it's all just alchemy, but then it's not. There is something more to this than simple science, something living and breathing (or maybe that's just the feeling of Riza underneath his fingertips as he traces diagrams and oh god, he is going to hurl because this is wrong; she's a person) and, he hates himself for thinking it, beautiful.
"Thank you," Riza says, after he finishes copying down the array and she puts her shirt back on.
Roy turns to face her, puzzled, because if anything he should be the one thanking her. But then she gives him one of her small, rare, smiles, and he doesn't know why, doesn't even really think about it but he leans in close…
"You're-"but beautiful is used for shiny red ink and twisting salamanders, not for innocent girls with sad eyes and breathtaking smiles.
Suddenly he realizes what he is doing, and he stops, wide-eyed and confused. He retreats, and then, as if an afterthought, he kisses her on the cheek.
Because, really, he has nothing left he could say to her.
ii.
Ed does not consciously remember choosing to peek through the door into his father's study; it is just something he has always done. His father is an elusive being, keeping himself locked inside his study, but on the rare moments that he ventures outside, his mother positively shines in his presence. Ed is not quite sure why that is, compared to the other dads he knows (which is, admittedly, not many. The Elrics do not get many visitors, but that's okay, Mom says, because they're fine by themselves), his father is kind of strange and bumbling.
Still, there is a magic that draws him to his father. Never too close, because while yes, Hoenheim is his father in definition, there's not quite that connection or warmth radiating around him that other father's have. Instead, Ed watches from a distance, and tries to listen to his father's mutterings of alchemy and immortality and ancient conspiracies, but he does not understand and everything he hears slips out of his mind like sand in a sieve.
When his father leaves, Ed does not immediately realize it. For weeks he waits outside his father's study with Al, peeking in and willing with all his might to make his father appear there. Al stirs and grows uncomfortable during these stays, but he dutifully waits with him all the same, looking at the messy desk and bookshelves and trying to imagine the man who used to sit there.
If his mother notices these vigils, she does not say anything.
Four months after his father's departure, Ed stops waiting and steps foot into the study.
"Ed!" Al hisses, because it still feels like trespassing, even if their father hasn't been around to use it months.
Ed ignores Al, however, and walks straight to the bookcase with all those texts that had captivated their father so.
"Come on, Al," Ed whispers, "You have to look at these books!"
Al tip-toes into the room as Ed opens one titled Basic Alchemy. It doesn't matter that they don't understand a word of it, because there is something special about this book. Something that they automatically connect to, and Ed sneaks it upstairs where he Al read it for hours after they were meant to have fallen asleep.
And maybe it reminds Ed of soft mutterings of alchemy, immortality, and, ancient conspiracies.
i.
When his mother dies, Al doesn't really believe it. Yes, he knows that technically she isn't alive anymore and that technically he is never going to see her again and that technically he cries and wails at her funeral, but in reality he doesn't feel any of these things. His mother has always been the rock and foundation of his life and for her to just be gone like that is preposterous. It doesn't work that way.
So maybe that's why when Ed speaks about homunculi and humans are composed of mind, soul, and flesh, that Al doesn't really reject the idea. Sure, he whispers back "But the book wrote that human transmutation was forbidden!" but they both know that they're going to do it anyway. Ed is the leader, after all, and Al… Al just wants to see his mother smile again.
Perhaps a small part of him knows that what they are about to do is foolish and impossible, but the rest of him believes so much in the power of alchemy that he pays no heed to that tiny doubter. And though science may dictate his mother dead, alchemy can contain a magic in it to change all that (never mind that alchemy is just a science, really).
"Brother, we're going to bring her back, aren't we?"
"Of course, Al!"
And they both smile and laugh a little, because of course they're going to bring her back, how could they not? They're alchemists and geniuses and it's just going to be like Mom was on an extended vacation or something, right?
But still, the tiny, miniscule doubter within Al wonders if maybe, despite being such alchemists and geniuses, they really don't understand death or life at all.
o.
"Here it goes, Al."
A grin and golden eyes, happy with excitement and – nononononono,weshouldn'tdothis,iknowbetternow,it'llallgowrong-
But instead- "Yup!"
They smile in unison, clap their hands and-
"BROTHER!"
- their world ends.
A/N: So yeah, this has been through the editing grinder a couple of times, and I'm still not so sure about how much I like it. It doesn't help that I've completely changed it a lot of times, too, (the original tone was a lot lighter) and as a consequence I think I kind of made all the drabbles seem really disjointed with one another. Eh, but I'm so done with this piece that I'm just going to let it be... Oh and yes, the Royai did totally take over the third drabble-ish thing. I have no self control, I guess! I also hope this all made sense, hehe. Anywho, read, review, and enjoy!