Thanks to Attackoneverything for reviewing! Yep, this will be a six-chapter story... because I can't write long fics for some reason. :( Now prepare for major feels! Oh yeah, I forgot the disclaimer. *ahem* I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist nor do am I planning to make a profit off of this. However, I did draw the cover art that I'm going to put up myself... as soon as I figure out how...

Chapter II: Steel Screws

"I got your toll right here!" grinned Edward, pointing over his shoulder at the Gate. The white being in front of him grinned back malevolently.

"You want to give up your Gate? Really? That's what you use to perform alchemy, you know."

"I know. Every human being has a Gate inside them, and therefore has the potential to perform alchemy."

"This Gate is what connects humans to the Truth." The entity's grin vanished. "You cannot just give it up."

"W-what?"

"I'm afraid, if you want your brother back, Mr. Alchemist, you're going to have to offer me something else."

"But I― I don't have anything else!"

"There is always something else, Mr. Alchemist." The Truth leaned in closer and smiled widely. It was not a nice smile. "In exchange for your brother, I will take… your existence."

Everything went black, and the only thing Edward could hear was the sound of his own screaming.

When he awoke, he was surprised to find his body still intact― all limbs still attached, except for his left leg of course. He clambered to his feet and tried to get his bearings. He was still in the wreckage of Central Command… Briggs soldiers flitted past him… and there, not ten metres away, was…

"Alphonse?" Edward whispered. He stumbled closer. His brother was back- he was alive― sure, he was skeletal and pale, and needed a haircut― but he was alive! In his own body! He looked to be unconscious, but he was definitely breathing.

Suddenly, a humongous figure stepped in front of him. Edward looked up to see Major Armstrong, a serious expression on his face.

"Who are you?" he boomed. Ed's heart skipped a beat.

"I-It's me, Major… it's Edward… you know who I am!"

"I'm sorry, but I've never seen you before."

Gasping for breath, Edward turned and clutched his hands to his head. It couldn't be true! It… it couldn't be! There was no way this was possible… that the Truth's toll was…

"Who's there?" Ed turned to see Colonel Mustang, eyes tightly shut. "Is there someone there?"

"C-Colonel?"

"Fullmetal?" The Colonel frowned. "Wait… who's that...?"

Overcome, Edward turned and ran.

Edward woke with a violent start, breathing heavily. He looked around for a moment, disoriented, then realised he'd fallen asleep in the grass by the river.

It had gotten late. The sky was pitch black, not a trace of gold left. In fact, it was the blackest sky Edward had ever seen. No stars twinkled, no moon silvered the landscape. Everything was hidden in darkness.

A traveller passing by, hurrying down the road as fast as he could (for he was later back than he had anticipated) heard a sharp sob sever the night air. He stopped and looked around, but of course saw nothing. About to keep on, the traveller paused suddenly. He sensed a very strange chi. Being an Alkahestrist from Xing, and visiting Amestris to see some of his distant relations, he had the ability to sense the chi, or energy, of others through the Dragon's Pulse.

This particular chi was so strange that it scared him. It felt forgotten. Almost as if the person this chi belonged to no longer existed, and yet was still on the earth. As if they had no reason to exist.

The traveller hurried home, and tried to forget the strange chi.

Funny how difficult it is to forget the forgotten.

"Do you want some help?" offered Winry. Al was trying to climb the rather steep stairs that led to the train car. He was able to walk without crutches now, just a cane, but still had difficulty with stairs.

"No, that's okay. I got it." Alphonse began to ascend the steps without assistance. Winry took his suitcase and carried it with her hand flipped back over her shoulder. She looked on as Al made to the top and smirked triumphantly, before falling flat on his face.

"Al! Are you okay?" Winry ran over to help him up, but saw that he was laughing. She started giggling as well. "You looked so smug there… until you just face-planted…"

"Y-yeah…" Winry opened her eyes at the voice tinged with despondency.

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure… just a feeling…"

"What is it?"

"I felt it when you were carrying my suitcase for me… and again just now, something in in your laughter… It felt like I was looking at you, but seeing someone else."

"Who?"

"I…" The train's whistle blew, loud and shrill, and Winry hurried Al to their seats. Neither saw the golden-haired man slip out from behind the compartment door where he had been listening. Nor did they see the singular tear that slid down his cheek.

To Edward's dismay, the only seat left vacant was directly behind Winry and Al. He quickly seated himself and slid down as far as he could to avoid being seen.

"So anyway," Winry was saying, "The screw that guy gave me? It has the letters 'B. D.' on the top."

"So?"

"So, those are the initials of the Resembool blacksmith! He always puts them on everything because he's convinced his work is the best there is, remember?"

"And the point of this story is…?"

"I didn't bring any of my equipment with me to Central, yet that guy said I dropped a screw which happens to have been made by my blacksmith…"

"You probably had it in your pocket or something and it just fell out. Stop worrying about it."

Edward groaned inwardly. So she hadn't dropped that screw. It must have come off his automail… dammit…

"Anyway, if you're that curious, why don't you just ask him? He's sitting right behind you."

Edward's heart skipped a beat.

"What?!" Winry spun around and, failing to spot Ed, pulled herself up to see over the back of the seat. "It is you! Are you following us?"

"No! I just happened to get on the same train as you, that's all!"

"Is that so? Where to?"

"Resembool."

"Why?"

"To get my automail fixed." It wasn't a total lie. Ed really did need his leg worked on after the Promised Day, but he knew it'd be a little difficult to get Winry to do it now, so he'd fixed it up as best he could using alchemy.

"Automail?" Winry's eyes narrowed. Edward stared back at her, unflinching. She blinked a couple times.

"EEEEEE!" Caught off-guard, Edward reeled in shock at Winry's excited squeal. "Which limb is it? Can I see, can I see? Oh please, let me see!"

"Wh-what?" Edward stammered. The mechanic grabbed Ed's right arm and pulled the glove off, discarding it when she saw the hand was flesh and blood, and leapt over the seat, snatching his left leg by the cuff of his pants. "Hey!"

"This automail is amazing! It's exactly how I would have done it! You gotta tell me who made this!" chirped Winry.

She doesn't recognise her own handiwork? thought Edward. "Uh, well you see, they aren't around anymore," he lied quickly.

"You mean they're dead?" Winry asked, her demeanour completely changing.

"...Yes."

"Oh. I'm sorry." She pulled the leg of his pants back down. "This automail is pretty beat up… You should probably find a new mechanic."

"That's why I'm heading to Resembool, actually. I heard there was an excellent automail engineer living there."

"Oh really? What else did you hear?"

"From that smug expression on your face, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you're her."

"Wow, nice one," laughed Alphonse. "Right on the money."

"So what do you think?" Edward addressed Winry. "Can you fix my leg?"

"Not a problem," she smiled. "For some reason, your automail is built almost exactly the same as how I do it. It should be pretty easy."

"Right… Can I have my glove back, then?"

"Oh, whoops! For some reason, when you said 'automail' I guess I assumed you meant the arm… I don't know why." She handed the white glove back to him.

"Thanks, Winry!" The two continued talking and laughing. In the seat behind them, Alphonse watched cynically.

When did she tell him her name?

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