Disclaimer: Rowan puts her left shoe on first, every time. She writes that way too. Left to right. Hm. In Japan, do they put the right shoe on first, then? She's never been there, so she doesn't know.

AN: This story begins and takes place during the commercial break of episode 51. That does mean series end spoilers, but not for the last fifteen minutes! Eventually, this story will reach that part too, and then there might be some slight movie spoilers. Basically, a lot of spoilers. Oh yeah, and there will be shounen-ai. Elricest. I think I have sufficiently warned you now.

The moment when soul melded into armor, the moment of a new kind of rebirth, felt to Alphonse much like a bird being shut back within its shell. There was, at first, a nothing, a darkness so intense it seemed to swallow him whole, followed by a lesser dark accompanied by the sensation of insensitivity that shocked the memory of that complete black from his mind. Al barely had the time to grasp the sensation of being without breathing, of being without seeing, of being without hearing, or feeling, or even living, before his attention shifted to his brother. Through the shock reverberating within his soul, the thought 'Edward' was the only moment of clarity that Al could grasp. It was a concept he could understand, to look to his brother's well-being. Al could never explain how, at that moment, he knew he could "sense" Edward though he had no physical senses; nevertheless, on the edge of the darkness to which he was slowly becoming more and more accustomed, there lingered the familiar aura of Ed, his big brother. In that moment, Al understood that what he "saw" was Ed's life-essence, his spirit, just as one would see a body. The flame of Edward was beautiful, Al recalled thinking later, but the candle of his life began to flicker in the corner of Al's vision and he panicked. (Later, Al would be forced to describe all this to Pinako, Winry, Greed, Mustang, Izumi and countless others, and he found that the only way to relate the sensation was by comparing this new sense to that of sight, which it most closely resembled.)

Somehow, Al was able to cry out to Ed then, though the experience of "speaking" was more like telepathy than anything (for Al had no means to create audible speech.) "Brother!" he cried and somehow moved his metal "limbs" toward that warm, flickering, energy. Al later understood that, through Edward's alchemy, which formed the armor into something similar to automail, and Al's ability to reach out to the metal's stiff components (like talking the molecules into believing they were made to move on their own), he was able to move around quite normally. But at the beginning his movements were jerky and, to make matters worse, the slick metal slipped often through the pools of Ed's blood. When Al first tried to lift his brother into his arms, he nearly dropped him on the ground. But he had to learn quickly and, once Ed was secure in his embrace, Alphonse managed to "run" all the way to the Rockbells' home in the rain. He lost count of all the times he nearly fell apart, or dropped Edward, or slipped to a stop in the muddy track, but eventually he made it there, where Pinako and Winry willingly unburdened him of his precious load and left him to consider his new fate and try to begin to understand his new existence, as it could be called.

Together, he and Ed were able to conclude that Al had lost everything save his soul, his mind, and his dormant sixth sense, now taking rampant control over his existence (Al refused, much to Edward's pain, to call it a life.) As the other five senses were no longer holding the sixth one back, it had emerged to fill in the gaping holes left behind by the others. Al could "see," though his "sight" was flawed, limited to the presence of another's life; most everyone appeared to him the same, though Ed's life, and the lives of those who loved him, seemed beautiful to Alphonse, Edward most of all. Al could "speak" through minds, conveying such a human signal that the recipients were deceived into thinking Al actually spoke. He could move, too, and fast, faster the more he exercised this mental muscle. But there were too many gaps to be filled; Al's sixth sense could not simulate smell (lucky, Ed would tell him from time to time, when something particularly foul-odored crossed their path), nor could he feel and how Al longed to touch something and feel its texture, its warmth, its shape in his hand. He wanted to hold something and not fear that he would drop it or crush it in his grip. Food was a lesser loss, for it meant he was less of a burden, money-wise at least. Ed never had to bother feeding him, Al would think. Though it was hard when someone expected him to eat and he had to pretend that he could smell how good the food was, how good it tasted going down into the hollowness of his "body." All in all, Al was very cheap to keep comfortable (he never was, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.) But it would be a lie to say that, despite his new sense which did its best to compensate for his losses, Al was coping well. There was nothing that could make up for Edward's smile or the sound of his voice, the gold sun stroking his hair, or the flash of life in his bright, intense eyes.

Al wanted his body back, though despite his unwavering faith in Edward, not even he could imagine that anticipated and longed-for moment.

Or the consequences that were to come with that wish's fulfillment.

Haptic

Chapter One: Kiseki
Alphonse: Arukidashita bokura wa mada tachi domattari dekinai

Everything was black and bloated. Al wondered why his head was spinning with vertigo, why everything felt large, why everything was dark. He opened his eyes for a moment, caught a glimpse of golden ceiling, then felt his lungs open as his mouth gasped wide, gulping in air, as though he'd been submerged under water for far too long. The next second his eyes rolled back in his head and the air caught in his throat, and Al began to cough violently, choking on his own air. He longed to lift his hands to cover his mouth, but his limbs and all over felt like jelly. His chest flailed up and down like a fish and tears pricked at the corner of his closed eyes. He felt like he was dying, but why? What happened? Where was Edward? And had they...succeeded?

Suddenly, Al felt a hand press down on his chest, and then lips covered his mouth. A blast of warm, sticky air was pushed into the cavern of his mouth, then pumped further down his throat into his lungs until his chest steadied and his lungs were filled as balloons. His eyes fluttered cautiously open again and this time he saw a brown face staring anxiously down at him. "Alphonse?" the person asked. He tried to respond, tried to ask the person who they were, but at that moment the person sat up and his eyes were hit with the dazzling gold of the domed ceiling above them and, crying out, he shut his eyes again. His head spun once more and he wondered vaguely what was going on. Where was he? Where was Ed? Who was that person? Who-? What-? Where-? When-? How-! But then everything went silently dark; Alphonse blacked out.

Rose saw Al's head loll to the side and panicked. Edward had told her to leave with her child and the creature he called "Wrath", but seeing the scared look in the alchemist's eyes, she disobeyed him and watched as he performed the transmutation for Alphonse's body. She watched, too, as Edward's body disappeared into the Gate, and once the blinding blue had disappeared, she saw in the place where Ed had stood, the frail, nude, body that had to be Alphonse Elric. Then the young boy began to cough violently and, thinking of nothing else but that this was Edward's brother, whom Ed may just have died for, she rushed to help him, leaving her child with Wrath behind a pillar. Luckily, she managed to stabilize his breathing, but when he opened his eyes, he must have gone into sensory overload and passed out. Yet when she put her face near his mouth, Rose confirmed that at least he was still breathing regularly and so he was not dead.

Standing up, Rose pulled a few of her petticoats off from under her dress and wrapped them around Al's body. She was surprised how small the boy was for a fifteen year old (though he was related to Edward, who was unusually short period, so perhaps it was genetic), but even worse was how skinny Al's body was, how thin his limbs were and how light he felt when she lifted him into her arms. She glanced around, then heard her baby crying in the corner where she had left him. Wrath was nowhere to be seen. Running over to him, she bent down and gently placed Alphonse back on the marble floor. She cradled her baby in her arms and cooed softly. "Hush, little one, mama's here. Everything's okay."

Only, at that moment, everything was not okay, as a chunk of the ornate ceiling came crashing to the floor where Al had lain a moment before. Gulping back a scream, Rose glanced around her frantically, searching for the way out. When she found it, at the end of the hall the twin oak doors, she pulled Alphonse onto her back, looping his arms around her shoulders and hunching over her child pressed against her bosom, Rose hobbled toward the doors as the hidden city began to crumble around her. Sped on by her fear and the desperation to save the Elric still remaining in this world, Rose soon made it to the doors, now almost doubled over with her burdens. She was beginning to feel thankful that Alphonse was as light as he was; any heavier and they wouldn't have made it out alive. As it was, Rose had to kick her shoes off and sprint (as much as she could sprint) from the building up the winding flight leading back up to the surface. Countless times, she almost lost Alphonse on their trek to the top, the sweat pouring down her face and neck soaking into her dress. But the thunder as the city fell around and below her kept Rose moving until, what must have been hours later, she emerged into the dawning sunlight of Amestris. Rose collapsed to the ground, panting from fatigue and dehydration, not even caring that Alphonse's still unconscious body lay across her back, nor that her baby wailed beneath her. They were alive, at least, and for that Rose thanked God.

Rose couldn't say how long they lay there, but soon, the city began to wake up and Rose knew that they still had a far way to go. Eventually, Rose would have to take Alphonse back home to Resembool, but for the moment, Rose made her way to the local inn. It was now early morning and the innkeeper and his wife had just risen for the day; however they were quite warm and welcoming to Rose and her burdens when she slunk in, though they were initially taken aback by her rugged and haggard appearance. When Rose asked for a room, however, then discovered she had not a penny on her, the kindly couple, witnessing the desperate state she and her companions were in, let them stay in their room, next to the kitchen.

There, Rose laid Alphonse onto the bed; her baby she placed in the armchair in the corner. The Elric boy was pale and his breath was shallow and wheezy, and occasionally would stop altogether. Feeling his forehead, Rose discovered that Alphonse was burning up with fever and she went to the innkeeper's wife with this information. The woman, alarmed by the news, immediately informed Rose that her child she be placed in a different room, else he might catch the fever as well and, most likely, die from it. Rose thanked the woman, who offered to watch the child while Rose tended to Al's illness. She got soup from the kitchen to feed him, dribbling the broth on his lips and, when that didn't work, dabbing it on his tongue, bit by bit. Over the course of four intense days, Rose did this, until finally his temperature lowered to nearly normal again. But Rose was still worried for the boy, whose limbs felt weak and limp to her touch. And Alphonse showed no signs of waking up.

The innkeeper and his wife were very gracious to Rose over those first few days and when Al's fever had disappeared and it was safe for Rose to leave his side, they offered her a job to work in the kitchen washing dishes, which she more than willingly took. The wife confessed to Rose that she seemed like a daughter to them; in fact, only a week ago, their only daughter had gotten married and they missed her so much that they attached themselves to caring for Rose, who came into their inn looking so forlorn and in need of care. And the boy she brought in with her seemed so sick and frail that they didn't have it in their hearts to turn them away.

And so they stayed there for almost a month and Alphonse still had not woken up, and Rose was really beginning to worry. So finally she decided that the only thing to be done was for her to take Alphonse back home, back to Resembool. Rose told the couple who ran the inn that they were leaving soon, and when she did, they offered to pay for the train tickets for Rose and her companions. Though she hated to take the charity, the couple was so eager to help her and insisted so earnestly that Rose, knowing that her financial situation barely covered the cost of tickets, reluctantly accepted the money, though she vowed to herself that one day she would return to pay them back for all their kindness. And so, with the innkeeper's help, Rose set out the next morning for the day's train to Resembool. They laid Alphonse down on the bench, his head resting in Rose's lap, and her baby she carried in a sling, his body curled in next to her chest.

The train left the station just as the sun could be seen, peering over the edge of the brown world. Rose watched as yellow fingers stretched up into the blue expanse of sky and gripped the clouds like rungs on a ladder, climbing higher and higher to heaven. She remembered a time, years ago, when she had thought the sun was a god, the Sun God Leto, and she had even believed that the dead could be brought back to life. That was when she first met Edward and Alphonse, the Elric brothers, and everything had changed. And even though watching the sun rise in the morning didn't have the same significance as it did back then, Rose still thought it beautiful, maybe even more so for all that she'd been through, all that she learned these past years. And glancing down at Alphonse, she knew that there really were miracles in this world still.

As was expected, Alphonse did not stir the entire trip out there, though the same could not be said for her child, who cried often during the day, for milk, for sleep, for his mother's soothing voice in his ear, for a diaper change. Caring equally for the enfant and for Al kept Rose busy that day, as it was a long trip down to Resembool. The train did not pull into their destination until the sky began to turn pale, the sun rising again for a new day. Perhaps, Rose reflected as she hoisted Alphonse's limp body onto her back, soon the boy would be able to see the same sun rise on these rolling green hills as she saw now, walking down the beaten path to the Rockbell house.

When Rose arrived at the cheerful yellow house that first day, she was met by a grim little woman smoking a pipe, the grey clouds curling around her face and strict, pulled-back hair. Beside her slumbered a black and white dog whose front leg glinted in the sunlight. So these, she thought as she approached the house, are the mechanics who made Edward's arm and leg. Then a moment later, Rose panicked; what was she thinking, coming here without so much as an invitation? The old woman on the porch gave off a formidable and unwelcome air.

But when Rose finally stood before Pinako, the old woman gazed at her through sharp eyes, then withdrew her pipe from her mouth and said, "How may I help you?"

Rose nearly dropped Alphonse at being addressed so abruptly. "Eh...my name is Rose and I...I mean, that is to say, I don't need anything, it's just...Alphonse..." and Rose turned slightly so the woman could get a good look of Al's face over Rose's shoulder.

Pinako dropped her pipe as she glanced at that familiar face for the first time in over half a decade. "How-?" she gasped, taking a step back, her eyes wide beyond belief. But then she noticed the strained and uncertain expression on Rose's face and she regained some of her composure. "Well, never mind that. Questions are for another time. I'm sure you're tired...Rose, was it? Well, come on inside, Rose, and we'll find room for you and Al shortly." Pinako then took the girl's shaking arm and gently led her inside, letting Rose lean on her shoulder as the weight of her burden began to take its toll on her bent-over back.

They entered the house into the kitchen area, where Pinako let Rose collapse into a chair, catching Alphonse as he fell off her back and yelling for Winry to come down and help. A moment later, Rose observed a young woman with bright yellow hair enter the room, a pair of green overalls hanging off her body, the sleeves tied around her waist, and a purple bandana held back her long tresses. Winry took a step towards Rose, a friendly smile on her face, then paused and gasped when she saw the person in Pinako's arms. "Alphonse?" she whispered, her already pale face growing even paler. "Granny, how-" but Pinako's eyes darted over to the girl resting her head on the table and Winry nodded.

"Her name is Rose," the old woman said. "Now, help me carry Al upstairs. We'll put him up in his room."

Winry nodded, then circled around the table and lifted Al's feet up. "Let's go." They labored up the stairs and down the hall, into the room that they saved for anytime the Elric brothers found their way back home. As she tucked him into bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin, Winry started to cry. Pinako looked up to find her granddaughter sitting on the floor with her face buried in her hands.

"Winry, what's wrong?"

The girl looked up and smiled. "I...I never thought I'd ever s-see Al sl-sleeping in this bed again," she hiccupped.

Pinako helped the girl to her feet. "It's okay Winry. I...neither did I. But it seems that, despite our doubts, they succeeded."

Winry glanced back to Alphonse. "He looks so young, Granny. Alphonse...he hasn't aged a day, has he?"

Pinako frowned. "We...can worry about that later. For now, I think we should look to our other guest. It seems that Rose carried Alphonse all the way here. She must be very tired, not to mention famished."

"Oh...right," she said absently, her eyes still on Al's still face.

"Let's go, Winry. Al will still be there when we return, I promise."

Winry nodded. "Okay, Granny." And she let the older woman lead her back downstairs.

Rose, meanwhile, had fallen asleep on the kitchen table and only with gentle prodding was she awoken. She lifted her head, which felt as heavy as lead, and blinked up at Winry's smiling face. "Good morning," the girl said in greeting. "I'm Winry. Would you like some breakfast?" Rose was slightly baffled by the abruptness of this girl and her grandmother, but she nodded slowly before letting her head fall back down on the table. "Wonderful!" Winry exclaimed and whipped around to the other side of the kitchen. Rose watched her out of the corner of her eye as the girl- Winry?- set about cooking an omelet and, by the luxurious scent of it, sausage as well. Her mouth began to water as the aromas wafted towards her and she managed to sit up despite her fatigue. She lifted the sling that held her child over her head and set the baby in her lap. The playful enfant giggled as Rose gently tickled his soft neck.

Winry spun around, her blue eyes wide with wonder. "Oh, you have a baby?" she gasped in delight. She placed a plate full of warm food in front of Rose, and then bent down beside her to look at the child. "Oh, Rose, what's his name?"

Rose blinked down at the girl. "I...I don't know." (1)

"He doesn't have a name?" Winry stretched her arms out and Rose handed her the child. "Maybe," she said, standing up with the child in her arms, "maybe you could name him now?"

Rose put her fork down and chewed over the idea as she finished her bite of egg. "I suppose. But what should I call him?"

"Who is his father? That's always a good person to name sons after." But a shadow fell across Rose's face at the suggestion and Winry quickly added, "B-but that's okay, you don't have to. You can call him after whomever you want. Your father, or grandfather, or uncle, or something? Usually people name their children after deceased relatives or friends, in memoriam."

Rose thought about that for a moment, her eyes looking out the window where the sunlight was pouring in. Then she smiled sadly, for the golden rays reminded her of someone who had passed...at least, he probably was gone for good, if not dead, then gone forever. She nodded and turned back to Winry. "I've got a name, I think."

"Excellent! What is it?"

"...Edward."

Three weeks it had been since Rose arrived in Resembool, and for three weeks Winry had not left Alphonse's side. After Rose showed her how to feed him, Winry would sit by Al's side and drop by drop give him soup and water, and when nature's necessities had to be taken care of, she did that too. And while she didn't say it was because of Edward, everyone knew anyway, and so no words needed to be spoken for it to be understood.

Rose, meanwhile, spent her time with Pinako and any minute of the day she wasn't nursing Ed, she was sitting with the old woman on the porch. Pinako had many stories and Rose was an avid listener, especially when Pinako told stories about Ed, Al, and Winry when they were children. Though as she sat listening to the stories and watching the sun setting on the horizon, she couldn't help but feel slightly jealous towards Winry, who knew Edward for far longer than Rose had, who got to see him as a carefree happy child; Rose only ever knew the tortured half, the adult Edward who always seemed so much wiser than his years. She still remembered the fire in his eyes when he told her that she had two strong legs, to get up and use them. She remembered wondering if he envied her for those legs; she recalled how it was that thought that helped her get back on her feet and helped push her forward. Rose wished, vainly, that she could have seen Edward smile, just once, with true happiness.

One day a couple weeks later, as Rose sat on the porch nursing her baby with Den keeping her company, Winry stepped out into the daylight. Shading her eyes for a moment, she then looked down at Rose and smiled. Winry had not left Al's side for the past month but it was clear that Pinako had finally convinced the girl to get out and move about. As Rose glanced up at her friend, she noticed that today Winry was wearing a dress and in her hand she carried an empty basket. Rose frowned; was Winry going out somewhere, she wondered.

Seeing the frown on Rose's face, the girl laughed. "Yes, Granny has kicked me out of the house to go into town. She has some errands for me to run, but I can see right through her!" Winry winked at Rose and sat down beside her on the porch. "Of course, she wants me to get out of the house, thinks it's unhealthy for me to be sitting in there all day, but…" and Winry's smile faded for a second, only to come back full force. "Anyway! Rose, do you want to come into town with me? I can show you around Resembool, what little we have to offer. I could…I could really use the company, you know?"

Rose nodded. "Sure, I'd be glad to go with you. Resembool seems like such a pretty place; I'd love to see more!" Winry waited patiently as the baby finished, then as Rose took him inside to lie down. Half an hour later the two girls were on their way to town.

Rose was right; Resembool was a beautiful place, especially compared to Lior, which had been a small town stuck in the middle of the desert. To her appreciative eyes, Resembool seemed like Paradise, much to Winry's amusement. She assured the girl that Resembool was as boring as it was beautiful. As they entered the small village, Rose understood. Resembool, stuck so far south of Central and most of the metropolitans in the country, was a sleepy country town. In the village there were only a few shops, plus the general food market, but little else. The two girls went into the food market and quickly picked up some fruits, vegetables, and meat for dinner that evening- stew, Winry informed Rose as they paid for the food and left.

On the road back to the Rockbell house, they passed by a cemetery. It was early dusk now, and the rich reds and purples in the sky painted a haunting picture on the hill. Rose paused to look at the scene a moment. Winry stopped in front of her and turned her eyes to where Rose was looking.

"Oh…" she whispered, then stepped closer to the other girl.

"Winry, is this where their mother is buried?"

Winry nodded. "It is…Would you like to visit the grave?"

"…" Rose shook her head. "No, that's not necessary. But then…their house must be close by…"

"That's right. It's a little further down the path. We could stop there, if you like."

Rose nodded once, and the girls continued to walk down the dirt road. From the top of the hill, Rose could see the still-blackened remains of the Elric house, though age had turned it grey, and with the sun casting her final rays against the charred wood, it looked an eerie violet. As they grew closer, Rose could smell the faint scent of ash, though it was more of a whisper than anything else. She remembered what Al had told her a year or so ago, why they burned their house down, so they would have no way of turning back. She sighed. It must have been so hard, traveling so much, without a home to return to…

"…I cried, when they burned this house down," Winry said suddenly, breaking Rose from her thoughts. "I cried for three days, I think. I mean, it was sad the house was gone, sure, but it meant that Edward and Alphonse never planned on coming back…at least, not for a long, long time. It wasn't meant to hurt me, what they did. I don't even think they considered Granny and me; they had to find a way to get their bodies back to normal. But even though it was only the house they burned down, it…it felt like they were burning me…Still, they will always have a home to return to, despite the fact that this house is gone. Y'know?"

Rose stared at her friend a moment, and then smiled. "Of course they do," she said. Neither spoke after that, but they stood side by side among the ashes and watched the sun set. When the sky began to turn dark, they returned home.

It happened that night. After Winry finished her stew, she ladled out a bowl of broth and took it upstairs for Alphonse. Pinako took out her pipe and exited out to the porch before lighting up, Den looking up from his spot under the table at the sound of the door opening, but dropping his old head back down, too lazy to follow the invitation. Rose began nursing Edward at the table, her foot absently scratching Den's back.

"Granny!" came the cry, loud and frantic. "Rose! Come quick!" Rose, startled, hugged her child to her chest just as Pinako burst into the house. They stared at each other for a moment, before Winry called for them again. They sprang into action and sprinted up the stairs, even Den getting to his feet and following behind them.

"Winry! What is it?" Pinako said as she ran into Al's room.

Winry was standing beside Al's bed, her face pale. "…Granny…I could have sworn…he moved. I thought I saw his hand move just now."

The three women crowded around the bed, the dog sitting at the end of the bed and watching Alphonse with curious eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. And then…his eyelids fluttered. They gasped.

"Alphonse?" Winry whispered.

His hand twitched and he frowned slightly.

"Al? Can you hear me?"

His face relaxed and Winry's face fell. But then Al's eyes opened, squinted more like, and the corners of his mouth turned down in confusion. "…W-w-winry?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. "What…what's going on?" His noise scrunched up and he began to grin a little. "Is that…stew? Ed must be happy…is there any left for me?"

Winry collapsed to the floor, her arms hanging uselessly by her sides. "…Alphonse…" she said with a smile.

And then, she began to cry.

Alphonse: We've set forth and can't stop yet
Chapter One- Miracle

"Oh, Rose, what's his name?" Rose blinked down at the girl. "I...I don't know." (1) That's a lie. I just forgot it. Let's just say, for this story's sake, that if the child had a name before, she forgot it after Dante, um, brainwashed her…

Okay then! This is the first chapter of "Haptic" and there are a few things that you should know before I let this thing end. First off, what does Haptic mean?

Haptic: 1 relating to or based on the sense of touch the haptic mode of perception —Colin Gordon , 2 characterized by a predilection for the sense of touch a haptic person - "haptic." Merriam-Webster's Medical Dictionary. Merriam-Webster, Inc. 20 Sep. 2006.

Second of all, "Haptic" has a "brother" story that will be written and posted alongside it. It will be Edward's story while he and Alphonse are apart- once they are reunited; well, we'll worry about that later. But because each story can stand on its own, they will be posted separately. Edward's story is called "Verisimilitude" and will be posted before chapter two of "Haptic". Therefore, I highly suggest that you read "Verisimilitude" because 1) they go together and 2) you'll get a better gauge of when "Haptic" will be updated! Anyway, I hope to see you all there and thank you so much for reading!

On that note, I have just a few last things to add: One, yes there are chapter titles. There are also song lyric "chapter" titles. For "Haptic", the song is "Ano Yume no Mukou he", an Alphonse Voice Song. Translation is from And second: It has come to my attention that there are a lot of people who read my stories who do not review. Please, it would mean the world to me to know what people think about the story; a hit count is not enough of a gauge to tell me what people think; only you can do that! So,. Please, if you have read this far, leave me a word or two on your thoughts. Thank you and until next time- Rowan