The Fall – Chapter Three

I'm kinda sad that this story isn't getting much love... It's my least popular one whichever way you look at it. :nervous look:

UPDATED FOR OCTOBER 3RD.

Special thanks to Mistclaw for reviewing chapter two!

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me. Wake Up does not belong to me.

( 3 )

-[ Doubles ]-

I'm not angry all the time
You push me down at least you try
Until we see this eye to eye
I don't want you

Ed sat uncomfortably in front of the black cat, trying not to wince from his torn side. The gashes had stopped bleeding already, but they felt as if the large cat's claws were still digging into his side. At the very least, he had the black cat there to distract him. He almost wished he didn't. He really wanted to think without interruptions right now...

"So... what exactly are you doing here?" the cat hissed, stalking around the gold and black cat. The black cat's companion, a pale tan tabby with dark brown markings, seemed nervous about the whole situation, shifting from foot to foot and glancing shyly at the others from time to time.

At the same time, Ed was getting more and more confused by the minute. He had fallen asleep after finding out he was sick, and now he was a cat. Stranger still, he could remember exactly what had happened when he was a cat before. He was comfortable in the cat body; he knew how he was supposed to survive in it, and moving around was completely natural, as easy as breathing.

"Getting my ass handed to me..." he muttered, not intending for anyone else but him to hear. Naturally, his interrogator caught it too, what with cats having better hearing and all. Damn cats.

"Hah! That's certainly true!" the cat laughed, "but it's not what I wanted to hear."

"Hey, Maes..." the smaller cat meowed, looking up. My eyes widened a little bit, surprised at the name. The black cat- Maes- glared at me with glowing green eyes a moment longer before turning to his companion.

"What is it, Jeffy?" he meowed, voice softening. It was obvious that they were close, but how, Ed wasn't sure.

"Well, he's hurt, and it wasn't like he was against us or anything..." Jeffy meowed quietly, shuffling his paws on the dark ground between two dumpsters. There seemed to be a dull thumping echoing off the walls, but the other cats didn't seem to notice. It must've just been the blood in his ears.

"I guess... I mean, he's cursed, so he's not much of a threat anymore," Maes meowed thoughtfully.

It took effort not to talk back to the implication that he was weak, and it took Ed a moment to understand the second part of his pondering.

"Wait, cursed?" he replied skeptically.

"Yeah, cursed," Maes smirked, "Once Cynder finds you, she won't stop hunting you until you're dead. It don't even know why Jeffy bothered to save, getting hit by a cat would've been much better than the way she kills her victims."

"Brother!" Jeffy squeaked, crouching down and pulling his ears back in fright. For one painful moment, Ed was reminded of Al as a little kid when thunderstorms passed over Resembool.

The grin slipped off Maes' face as he turned to his- younger?- sibling. He licked the top of his head, temporarily flattening the tuft of fur that stood up awkwardly.

"I'm sorry little bro... Forgive me?" His tone of voice was so warm and caring, almost impossibly so after he had so obviously delighted in sharing as much information on "the curse" as he could. The younger stood up and stretched his neck out to playfully lick his sibling's ear.

"Forgive you," he said happily as he nuzzled affectionately into his brother's side. Ed noticed with a small twitch that Maes was still glaring at him over his shoulder, but the glare that had been so sharp before seemed much softer now.

"C'mon Jeffy, he can fend for himself," the black cat said softly. Ed knew that it was just a nicer way of saying that he wasn't welcome.

But he didn't need to be welcome, either. He could take care of himself, just as he had been doing before. It hadn't worked that well, but so what? He didn't want anyone around him, especially not now, when everything made no sense whatsoever. He just wished he could talk to Alphonse right now…

Lost in his thoughts, he had missed the other cats' departures, one leading the other out of the shadowed alley they had been hiding in. Evening was drawing near, making the shadows even deeper than they normally were. That didn't matter anymore, he could see perfectly well into the darkness, his pupils dilating to let in more light, as normal cats' eyes do.

As he limped toward the entrance of the alley, a strange calm washed over him. The ache in his limbs and the stabbing pains in his side were still there, but the feelings didn't seem to draw his attention. Not nearly as much as that sudden movement from the street.

It was big, really big, kind of shiny… It was fast too. Then it was gone. Another came. And another. His thoughts floated in circles as he tried to puzzle out what it was. For the life of him, he just couldn't remember anything right now. All that mattered was putting one paw in front of the other.

Just. One. More. Step.

One.

More.

Wait. The ground was different now.

Instead of the rough, cracked grey stuff, it was black, and a little bit smoother. He stopped, not recognizing the strange material.

He stepped backwards, realizing that there was a ledge there. It was made of the familiar, grey stuff. Turning back, he started to walk along the edge of the grey stuff, kind of noticing the fast, shiny things off to his right.

His numbed thoughts deteriorated further, and he couldn't remember anything that happened after.

A boy pulled his hood further down over his face, trying to block out the persistent drizzling that was slowly soaking through his jacket. The thing had said it was waterproof, but that was quickly being proved wrong. The black fabric was darkening further, and he could just barely feel a bit of dampness on his shoulders.

Cursing the light, but unexpected rain, he stomped along the sidewalk, dangerously close to the small street next to him. He had been a few minutes late to his publisher meeting, and his book had been rejected because of his tardiness. He was starting to run low on money, and he needed to pay off another check to the online school he attended before his 18th birthday, which happened to be in under a month. So he either had to sell his book now, or abandon it entirely, and get a crappy job at a fast food restaurant.

Scowling deeply, he let one fist come out of his pocket and punch at the air in front of him, trying to take his anger out on an invisible foe, which happened to look like the snooty publisher he had tried to meet with.

"'Punctuality is a very important trait in an author. I'm afraid you won't meet the standards. Please try to meet our preliminary standards next time, Mr. Camiz.'" he mimicked, making his voice rise in a teasing female tone, "She can take her 'preliminary standards' and shove them up her-!" he trailed off into grumbles. Kicking at a few loose stones in the cracks, he couldn't help but notice an anomaly in front of him.

It was a cat. That much was normally, but the way it moved was just… weird. It kind of stumbled along, but it was going in a straight line. He snickered as he remembered an old youtube video he had found of a cat given alcohol. He would've made a comparison right then, but then the cat turned around to face him.

"Holy shit…" he whispered, his eyes pinned on the cat's. It's right eye was gold, while the left was brown, and both were equally empty. It seemed to tilt its head slightly to the side, its slack jaw falling even farther, if that was even possible. Then it turned back around and started its way forward again.

It took a couple moments to process exactly what had happened. There was a cat. And it looked like a goddamn zombie! Without the rotting bits, he added as an afterthought.

His first step towards the strange cat sent him tumbling to the ground. Okay, what the hell?! As he lifted his sore face off of the sidewalk, a few strands of wavy blonde hair fell out, immediately starting to soak up the rain falling ever more heavily from the sky. He shoved his hands down, lifting his torso from the concrete and curling his legs underneath him. He quickly checked himself over for scratches, finding a few on his hands, knees, and a small cut on his elbow. Not to mention the mud leaving unpleasant stains all over his clothing.

He looked up, prepared to set his best glare at the cat, but it wasn't there anymore. He looked around a bit, completely oblivious to the stares he was attracting from other civilians.

After a couple seconds of scanning the almost empty sidewalk, he saw the cat slip into a tiny alley next to a cheap looking Chinese place.

Okay, this was ridiculous! Why did he care so much about the stupid cat?1 He almost turned around right there, even though his house was in the opposite direction. But then he turned back towards the alley, and the mostly black tail slipping limply around the corner.

Screw the cat!

But…

"Oh, I am not doing this…" he muttered as he stood up and followed the cat into the alley. The first thing he noticed was the persistent scratching noise coming from the dumpster. Unsurprisingly, it was that strange cat. Only now did he notice its odd coloring.

Its front half was mostly gold, matching its right eye, but had a few black markings here and there. Similarly, the back half was mostly black with a few gold markings. It also seemed like it was trying its best to keep its weight off of its front right and back left legs, balancing precariously on the others. He couldn't see any injuries on the mentioned limbs, but it could be possible the damage was internal, or even genetic.

Oddly enough, the cat seemed to remind him of someone, but he couldn't remember who at the moment.

He watched silently as the cat circled the dumpster, searching for an opening. It found none, but kept searching anyways, as if this was the only purpose it had in life.

Only now did the thought cross his mind that there was something seriously wrong with this cat. Then he realized that there very well might be something wrong with him for not realizing this earlier. He almost slapped himself, but stopped as the cat started turning towards him.

It was downright creepy, the way the cat held itself. It was so sure of where it was going, but seemed too crippled to do it right. Again came that sense of recognition, but again he couldn't remember.

He wasn't quite sure how his mind came to this conclusion, but he decided that, rather than leave this cat alone, he should bring it to a veterinarian's office. So, against his better judgment, he reached down to pick up the advancing feline. He unwillingly winced as his fingers touched its fur, expecting it to snap at his exposed fingers.

It did the complete opposite, going completely limp in his outstretched hands and almost making him topple forward from its minuscule weight. He bundled the now unresponsive cat in part of his jacket, trying to keep it unseen from the few people still on the streets.

Then he ran like hell to the vets office.