Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Chrono Crusade.

Chapter Two- The Great Depression

"Ed! Ed, wake up!"

Edward Elric snapped his eyes open at the familiar feminine voice calling his name. Looking down at him was Winry Rockbell with a worried expression gracing her face. The way she hovered over him gave Ed a strange sense of déjà vu, but he ignored it for the moment. He blinked repeatedly, making sure that she wouldn't disappear. Wasn't he supposed to be laying on a street somewhere? "Winry?"

She smiled in relief and left his line of vision. Ed managed to push himself into a sitting position – his left shoulder throbbed faintly – and spotted Winry standing a few feet away with her hands on her hips. "You need to be more careful Ed," she scolded. "You could have died with the wounds you had."

"Yeah," he replied absent-mindedly.

Winry cast a concerned look in his direction before moving toward the door. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?" With that, she left Ed to think about his situation. The last he recalled, the Gate had dropped him off on some strange street. Then he was hit by a car, and things got a little fuzzy from there. All he got out of it was remembering the pain of his shoulder as it broke against the sidewalk. After that, he guessed that he had passed out. As for how he got to Risembool, he wasn't sure. He moved his left shoulder experimentally but, like before, it only throbbed. He could have sworn it was broken. He would've had to have been out for a long time if his arm had completely healed.

Then, Ed remembered Al. His little brother, whom he had failed to protect, was either trapped in the Gate or consumed by it. How could he have let that happen? As the elder brother, he should have been the one to suffer the consequences, not Al. How could he begin to explain why he was here, and Al was not? How could he tell Winry?

The door creaked open as Winry carried a tray of food inside, setting it on the bedside table. With her back still turned to him, she wiped her hands on her pants. "When we found you, you were alone. Where's Al?"

Ed felt his blood run cold. He looked over to Winry, but she still hadn't turned around.

"Where is Al?" She roughly asked again.

"I don't know," he admitted, staring at his hands. How much damage had they done over the years?

"You're pathetic."

His head whipped up, his surprised gaze landing on a smirking Winry with her hands on her hips. She looked like she did that time they arrived in Rush Valley; with a slightly-crazed gleam in her eyes, ready to take something apart. Why was she acting like this? She was always there to console him, even when it was his fault. Even when she was angry, she would've never insulted him when he was down. She would've never been so cruel. His eyes narrowed as he came to one conclusion. Winry didn't act like this.

"Who are you?" he demanded, glaring at the imposter.

For a moment, "Winry" remained silent and unmoving. Then her smirk grew into a wider grin as her skin, hair, and clothes changed, morphing into someone else. When she – or he – had completely transformed, Ed growled.

"Envy!" he glared at the homunculus. "What are you doing?"

He scoffed. "What am I doing? What are you doing, Edward Elric? You of all people should know that the Gate isn't something you can mess with. Didn't you learn that the first time around?"

"Shut up!" Ed yelled, preparing to attack him. But his eyes widened when his body didn't move. He looked down at himself and, although he could see his body, he felt like it wasn't there. Like he had ghost limbs. What's going on? He thought as he tried to move his index finger. When Envy chuckled, he returned to glaring intensely at him. "Hey!" Ed growled. "What did you to me? Why can't I move?"

Envy threw his head back and laughed before looking back at the fuming teenager. "I didn't do anything, shrimp. It's your fault. You're too weak."

"No I'm not!" Ed roared angrily, struggling against his immobile body. "I'll take you on right now!"

Envy sighed, dropping to the floor and sitting in a cross-legged position. He rested his chin on one hand, looking bored. "Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that, shorty. But you and I both know that's not true. It's not true because you couldn't even save your precious little brother."

Ed froze, murderously glaring at the soon-to-be-dead homunculus. As soon as he figured a way out of the invisible restraints holding him back … "Bastard! I'll kill you!"

He watched as Envy morphed again, his black spiky hair shortening and turning blond. His clothes changed and his height dropped to that of a child, turning into someone Ed hadn't seen since he was a young boy. In front of him stood a very real-looking Alphonse, before they had tried to bring their mother back with human transmutation; it was as if it had never happened. Ed knew it wasn't him, that it wasn't really his little brother walking over to him right now. But that didn't stop his heart from beating faster. It didn't stop the guilt from washing over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in its bitterness.

The fake Al looked at him with those clear golden eyes, filled with fake tears. "You'll kill me?" Ed winced. "Brother, why? We're supposed to protect each other. Why didn't you protect me? Why didn't you save me?"

"Stop it," Ed closed his eyes, repeatedly telling himself this wasn't real. It was Envy in disguise, using his weaknesses against him. C'mon you idiot, he told himself. You fought a homunculus that looked like your own mother!

But Ed found himself unwilling to open his eyes. He'd had years to deal with his mother's death and the failed transmutation, with Al by his side. Now he had to deal with what he'd done to Al and, this time, he was by himself. He couldn't bear to face his little brother, not yet. He had to redeem himself first, somehow make up all his failures before he could call himself strong enough to try and save Al again. But for now, he just couldn't open his eyes.

"Just like I said," Envy's voice laughed triumphantly next to his ear. "Pathetic."

"No!"

:DDDD:

Ed jolted upright, gasping as his mind tried to piece together what was happening. It was a dream, he sighed in relief, though not feeling much better. No, a nightmare. It was a nightmare. After he'd calmed down, his eyes darted around the light blue room he was in. He was lying in an elevated bed with crisp, white sheets. His left arm was covered in bandages, as well as every other scratch and bruise on his body. Now that he thought about his injuries, his arm ached with a dull, piercing throb from his sudden movement; the back of his head felt like it was swollen. He continued to look around the room, slowly realizing that he must have been sent to a hospital. He glanced at the door to his room, which was slightly cracked open. If he strained his neck a little, he could just barely see two people standing outside of it, talking quietly.

From what he could tell, one of them was a blond-haired man dressed in some sort of blue uniform. Military, probably. Maybe they had found his pocket watch and called a soldier in. Next to the man was a woman in a black nun's uniform. It sounded like they were talking about him, but he could only catch a few of their words over the noise of the hall.

"… don't like this … All you can tell me … that boy? … nothing else?"

"I apologize … a threat … surely…"

"And … not a devil?"

"Yes …. waking up soon… ask him a few questions, shall we?"

"Of course."

It wasn't much to go on, but Ed quickly decided that he had to keep his guard up. Whatever they were talking about, especially that weird bit about a "devil", didn't sound positive to him. He quickly laid back into bed when the door opened, and the two figures behind his door entered. The woman entered first, clad in the black in white robes of a classic nun. Her sharp eyes, not at all softened by the round glasses she wore, scrutinized him. Then the blond-haired man walked in, and it became obvious to Ed that he was not military. At least, not one he knew about. For one, there was a large golden cross beneath his neck, closing his jacket off.

The nun spoke first. "My name is Kate Valentine, but you will call me Sister Kate. I am the head Sister of the Magdalene Order." Ed blinked, not sure if he was supposed to be impressed. He'd never heard of the Mad-whatever-she-said Order. His attention was brought to the blond-haired man when he spoke.

"Good morning," he greeted, more politely than the nun had. "My name is Ewan Remington, or Father Remington. I am also part of the Magdalene Order."

An awkward silence rose when they said nothing else, waiting for Ed to introduce himself. He glanced back and forth between them, still unsure about them. They certainly didn't seem like enemies, but he'd learned – via Fuhrer King Bradley – that enemies could be deceitful. Well, telling them his name wouldn't be bad, would it? "Edward Elric. I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist," he crossed his arms, the movement attracting both their gaze's onto his automail arm. Hadn't they ever seen one before?

The nun, er, Sister Kate, glanced back at him. "Is that a joke? Alchemists don't exist," she scoffed incredulously. "Alchemy is a dying, if not dead, science."

Ed gaped at her. "That's not true!" he exclaimed. "There are plenty of alchemists living in Amestris!"

Sister Kate frowned. "What is Amestris? I've never heard that name before."

If he'd looked surprised before, then he was completely blown away now. No alchemy and no Amestris? Something wasn't right, in fact, something was very, very wrong. The wheels in his head started turning, spouting out multiple explanations. This could be another nightmare, one he had yet to wake from. This could be an elaborate trick, though he couldn't come up with a reason for why someone would pull off something so complicated. Or, maybe, the Gate had taken him completely somewhere else. To another world? A place where alchemy was dead and Amestris didn't exist?

It was too much to process. His head started pounding, refusing to believe it. He needed proof. "Where am I?" he whispered.

Sister Kate was disturbed by the boy's questions. Did he hit his head too hard? "You're in the Magdalene Order, in New York. Are you alright?"

Father Remington observed Edward's exchange with Sister Kate, slightly amazed. This boy didn't appear to be of this world, based on his reactions and inquiries. But for something like that to be possible would be unfathomable. He also called himself an alchemist, but it was an area of science that proved to be useless time and time again for other, much older, scientists. There would be no reason for him to defend alchemy when it was clearly a fool's challenge. Unless, he truly believed it could be practical. Either that or this boy had somehow managed to succeed where countless others had failed. For him to be able to do that, he would have to be exceptionally intelligent and powerful. That might explain the strange feeling he got from this boy.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Edward clapped his hands, wincing due to his arm. Nothing happened. "No …" he began clapping his hands repeatedly, harder and harder each time.

"What are you doing?" Sister Kate demanded. She felt a strange mixture of worry and annoyance, the feeling she usually reserved for Sister Rosette. "If you want your arm to heal, stop that!"

Edward listened, laying his arms at his sides and looking up at Father Remington. "Hey, Remington," Edward said. He didn't fail to notice the slight desperation in the boy's voice as he spoke. "Would you mind getting me something to write with, like chalk?"

Father Remington nodded. "I'll return shortly." True to his word, he came back only two minutes later with some chalk and a blackboard the size of a briefcase.

"Thanks," Edward snatched the chalk from the man's hand, ignoring the small blackboard completely. Upon seeing this, Sister Kate sent a short prayer that she wouldn't have to deal with another uncouth child like Sister Rosette.

Edward carefully slid out of bed, ignoring Sister Kate's order to stop, and got onto his hands and knees. They watched as he began to draw a circle with words and symbols on the floor. When he was done, he only hesitated a moment before pressing flesh and metal palms on the edge of the circle. Again, nothing happened. "No," Edward gasped, more to himself. "I-I can't …"

By now, Sister Kate was confused about what the boy was trying to do, while Father Remington had his own silent suspicions. He couldn't reveal them now, not until he was entirely sure. He noticed that the boy had fallen into some sort of trance, staring at his hands with wide, disbelieving eyes. Father Remington glanced at Sister Kate, who also seemed concerned for the boy. He approached him cautiously, ready for anything the boy might do. "Edward?"

He glanced up at Father Remington and, disturbingly, started to laugh. There was no humor in his eyes. Instead, his strange, golden eyes were shadowed with agony and hopelessness. "I guess I had it coming," was all he said before he returned to staring at his hands, mumbling to himself.

Before they could help Edward or ask him any more questions, Rosette came through the door with Chrono. Sister Kate glanced worriedly from the duo to Edward, who was hidden from sight on the other side of the bed. She couldn't deal with Sister Rosette and a potentially insane boy at the same time.

"The nurse told me that this kid should be awake, so," Rosette frowned when she saw the empty bed. "Where is he? Is he alright? Did he leave already? He didn't even give me a chance to apologize, that jerk!"

She stopped when Sister Kate sternly said, "Rosette." She looked at the head Sister, confused. Sister Kate seemed more serious than usual. She turned to Father Remington, though he seemed a bit serious, too. Why were they so down?

When the blond-haired boy stood up from behind the bed, she understood. Hunched forward, staring at his hands in misery, he was the picture of despair.

:DDDD:

He sat in a chair by the window, watching as the sky grew darker. His stumps had been aching for the past hour, so it didn't come as a surprise when it started raining. He watched rain hit the glass with a soft pattering sound, then slide down noiselessly. Occasionally, he would glance down the street and catch glimpses of people running to escape the moderate drizzle. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. If only the cold could spread throughout his body, then it might numb the pain.

He'd been in the hospital for a week, now. Or maybe it was more than that. It could have been two weeks, a month, years … He wouldn't have noticed. He would have remained in the chair he was sitting in, staring at the rain. It was all he could do. It was all he was good for.

In this world, whether it was real or not, he wasn't "Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist". He was simply, Edward Elric. And that wasn't good enough.

Here's the conversation between Sister Kate and Father Remington:

"I don't like this, Father Remington. All you can tell me, is that we must keep that boy? Can you give me nothing else?"

"I apologize, Sister Kate. If he was a threat, I would surely tell you."

"And you're sure that he's not a devil?"

"Yes, possibly quite the opposite. The nurse said he should be waking up soon. Let's ask him a few questions, shall we?"

"Of course."

Tips, comments, questions? There's a little review button down there that likes to be pressed!