Wow, this story's finally picking up in its review count. That's always nice to see since I don't ask for reviews anymore unless I'm unsure of the story and need feedback, hehe. I may not require reviews to continue writing, but I certainly love them. Thanks especially to 11chiyochan for commenting on every chapter. You're one of those special reviewers every writer loves to see.

Anyway, the long one day wait for the next chapter is over, hehe. I hope you enjoy this. Me and AdventureAddict will try to get the next chapters of both this and MBYS written soon, so keep in touch.

Disclaimer: We really don't have to do these every chapter, you know. It's not in the Guidelines or anything. I only do it because it gives me an excuse to come up with all sorts of strange ways to say I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. Well, I guess I already said it there, so I won't say it again. I'll say something creative next time, so meh!

It wasn't long before I found myself back in the Davenport household, though without Mr. Davenport there it felt so—-empty. Either that, or Robyn just had a creepy vibe by herself. I'd known there was something creepy about that girl all along, but I was still irresistably drawn to figuring her out. She knew too much, and I wanted to know why.

She led me up to her room and opened the door, letting herself in, but I stayed behind to look at her door. It was covered in a huge collection of drawings, and I found myself oggling over the enormous amount of work that had to have gone into all of them. I didn't recognize all of the people in the drawings, but some of the characters resembled some of the things I had seen in movies.

"Did you draw all these?"

Robyn looked up from what appeared to be a bookshelf, a pink bookshelf, and said, "Oh, yeah, I draw sometimes. Whenever I do one I like, I put it up on the door."

"Interesting," I said, averting my eyes from the pink before they could be burned out. Pink was so—-girly. The thought of being caught in a girly room was a bit unnerving, even if it wasn't my room.

My eyes fell on a drawing near the middle of the door, and a smirk crossed my face. "Hey, Robyn…"

"Yeah?"

"You wouldn't happen to have sketched me without me knowing, would you?"

The girl didn't answer properly, sounding more like a choke than anything else, but that was just as good an affirmative as any. The sneaky little thing, drawing pictures of random boys behind their backs. I shook my head and chuckled. At least she had drawn me fairly well, so I wouldn't have to kill her—-yet. I'd use that to get back at her if she continued stealing my newspaper.

"Hmmm…" I reached out and touched the drawing nearest the one of me. Something bothered me about it, but I couldn't place it. It was a picture of someone in a suit of armor, but it was unnerving somehow. It kind of reminded me of…

"Find something interesting?" called Robyn.

"Uh, yeah…" I said, "Who's this?"

I heard Robyn's footsteps as she came over, and she squeaked as she saw the picture I was looking at. Strange reaction for someone to have over my finding a picture on the door when all her pictures were well done. There was seriously something going on that I needed to figure out.

"Uh, well, that is—-" She coughed, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and began again. "That's a kid, about our age. He and his brother are looking for something."

My eyes widened as I looked at the picture of the armor. That thing was freaking huge, how could he be about our age? Then again, it was just a drawing, but it still bugged me somehow.

I cleared my throat. "What are they looking for?"

She turned her eyes away from me. Not a good sign. "I um, I forgot."

That statement didn't ring true at all, but I wouldn't press, not yet. There were other things she was planning on explaining to me first, so I might as well just add this new thing onto the list for later.

Robyn thrust a book under my nose. "These are pictures taken in New York City of September 11th. Two terrorist planes crashed into the World Trade Center that day, and—-" Her voice turned wobbly, and I nodded that it was okay and took the book from her hands. She didn't have to tell me the whole story if it hurt so much; I could get most of it from the book itself. Books never had trouble with their emotions, part of the reason I loved them so much.

I stepped into Robyn's room and sat down on a nearby chair, a chair with a pink cushion at that. What was this girl's obsession with pink? Robyn remained silent for the time being as I flipped through the book, staring at the pictures and reading the captions to go with them.

I was surprised that I had not known about something of this proportion. Surely someone would have talked about it, even during the small amount of time I could recall. This seemed like a pretty huge deal, judging by the pictures and the text describing it, and it had only happened a few years ago. They couldn't have forgotten it so soon.

My eyes fell on a couple people in one of the pictures, and I traced them with my hand. A man and a child, the child with black hair down almost to her waist. She looked kind of like Robyn, except younger and with much longer hair. Wait—-could that have something to do with her behavior today?

I looked up from the book. She was standing nearby, hands clasped behind her back. Again, I was astounded by how non-Robynesque she was acting. She was normally so outgoing and obnoxious that this was a stark contrast to her normal behavior. "Robyn," I ventured, "Is this you?"

She sighed and came over to look at the picture I was pointing to. She nodded. "Yeah, that's me and my dad." She stood up and rubbed at her eyes. I closed the book. Something told me I wouldn't need to read anything else. This day had affected Robyn more strongly than it had most people.

"My—-My mom had a job interview at the World Trade Center on September 11th—-" Her voice trailed off, but I didn't need to hear anything more. I understood now. If those buildings had fallen down on the day her mother was in one of them, then that would explain why there didn't seem to be a Mrs. Davenport around.

I set the book aside and stood up, put my hand on her shoulder, and said, "I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes, and I could feel her shoulder shaking beneath my hand. "If she'd gotten that job, we'd have lived right in the area of one of my good friends, and we would have had an entirely different lifestyle, but those—-those terrorists had to—-"

"I know," I said. I normally would have said "I understand" to such a situation, but I didn't know how I could possibly relate to that. I didn't even know what I had in my past to relate to. My words weren't comforting Robyn at all, and I should have expected that. How comforting were the words "I know", anyway?

I didn't want to discuss it, didn't want to bring it up, didn't want her to think any less of me, but it seemed now was the time to throw myself on the line and see if she really was as trustworthy as I thought she was. Besides, she might seriously know more than I did and be able to give me some clues. "A-At least you can remember your mom."

Robyn opened her eyes and turned to look at me, a strange look coming over her. "You—-don't remember yours?"

I shook my head. "Other than that she died, no. I don't even remember how she died."

Her jaw dropped open, and she covered it with her hand as soon as she noticed. I sighed and sat back down. I hated revealing such things to people. It was mortifying to let anyone think I might be that vulnerable. I really hoped I could trust her as much as I'd assumed.

"You don't remember anything? Anything about your past?"

I shook my head once again. "I know my name—-well, my first name, and I know my mom is dead. That's it."

"Seriously? Nothing else?"

I inched away from her a bit and again shook my head, but stopped mid-shake. "Well—-I do remember something else, but it's fuzzy."

"What is it?"

I hung my head. Why was she interested? Did she know me from before? If so, why didn't she just tell me so and inform me of everything I had forgotten? It would make things so much easier for me.

She knelt down next to me and placed her hand on my knee. "Come on, Ed, you can tell me. I'm not going to go around telling everybody you have amnesia."

Amnesia. Right. I grimaced at the term. I hated calling it that, regardless of whether it was true or not. It sounded too vulnerable.

"Well, there's—-there's this boy I keep seeing. He kind of resembles me, but doesn't. I don't know who he is, and it bothers the h—- out of me."

Robyn pursed her lips and didn't say anything for several agonizing minutes. I rolled my eyes and sighed as I leaned back into the chair. Was she going to suddenly cast me off now that she saw I wasn't perfect and obnoxious like she thought? Would she think less of me? I hadn't made any friends here besides her yet, and I didn't want to lose the first one I'd met.

I looked around her room while waiting for her to say something. Sure enough, the pink had spread like an infection throughout her room, but once I saw the room as a whole, the pink layout didn't seem so atrocious as I'd thought. She'd painted her walls black and had stenciled the lyrics to some song on them. In pink of course, but it produced a nice contrast, in spite of it being all pink-y. At least it wasn't as girly as I'd thought. She had pretty good taste. Weird and Robyny.

"This boy," said Robyn, "How exactly does he resemble you?"

I shrugged and still refused to look directly at her. "It's fuzzy, like I said. He's got blond hair like I do, but darker. Not as long either. And…nngh…"

Robyn's eyes went wide. "Edward, what's the matter?"

I shook my head. "I just don't like thinking about it."

She patted my hand. "I understand, but still—-don't you want to regain your memories?"

I glared at the girl for a second before sighing and turning away and resting my head in my hands. What a dumb question. Doesn't every, ahem, amnesiac, want to regain their lost memories?

"Tch, of course I want to remember, but—-it hurts. I feel—-bad, guilty, every time I think about him."

Robyn raised an eyebrow. "Guilty?"

"Yes, guilty!" I snapped. I shook my head. I didn't know why I was getting so irritated. It wasn't her fault, except perhaps that she was prying into things I didn't want her to pry into. "Who was he, and what did I do to him? Do you think I—-killed him?"

Robyn coughed, and I turned to look at her and raised an eyebrow. My heartbeat accelerated. I'd always suspected that she knew more about me than I did, and I was wondering how to get her to spill whatever she knew. Was she going to do that now? I hoped so, but I was terrified at what she might have to say, especially if it turned out I had been some kind of monster in the life I had forgotten.

"Um, Ed, how about I answer your question about Anime Club first, alright?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. How long was she going to stall? Couldn't we prioritize the questions instead of just going in the order they camer? I wasn't going to keep putting up with this, not so long as my name was Edward Elliot—-it hadn't been that name for long, but so long as it was, I was going to do something about the situation.

"Look, Robyn, I know you know something—-something more about me than you're saying. Why can't you—-I mean—-can't you tell me anything? Did we—-like—-know each other?"

"Oh!" Robyn placed her hand over her mouth and looked away. "Know each other? No. Oh, no wonder you were staring at me like that."

I sighed and melted into the chair. Another lead fallen through the roof. Was I never to figure out who I was? Why did I have to be cursed with this burden? It wasn't fair!

She patted my hand again. "I think you'll find the answer to the Anime Club question more interesting than you think."

I grumbled as I stood up. I was curious about what had happened there and how they had all known my name, but I preferred to know what Robyn knew, and she didn't seem to be willing to reveal her knowledge anytime soon.

She led me into the living room and motioned toward the couch, so I sat down. "Alright," I said, "What happened at Anime Club? Why did everyone know my freaking name?"

"Um, it had to do with the way you were dressed."

I glanced down at my clothes and then back at her. "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "It's just—-well—-"

"What?"

She pulled a DVD off the shelf, popped open the case and took out the disc, then tossed the case to me. I had no idea what a movie had to do with the situation, but I grabbed the case and looked at it anyway. As soon as I saw the cover art, my face blanched. It wasn't a very good representation, but if someone had wanted to draw me as a 2D character, the boy on the cover was probably about how I would look.

I looked back up at Robyn, an unasked question in my eyes. She nodded as she placed the DVD in the player. "I figured you hadn't seen it before, or you would have known why everyone was acting the way they were."

No, I hadn't seen it, whatever "it" was. I looked back down at the case. "Fullmetal Alchemist". I had no idea what this was supposed to be, but I was definitely going to see if I could get any answers out of it. Maybe I had been a fan of this show before. That would explain why I went around dressing as the character, or would it? Was I that obsessed?

The menu came up, and Robyn pushed play and set the remote in between us on the couch. I relaxed, hoping to be entertained if nothing else. The narrator started explaining the subject of alchemy. Something in the back of my mind responded, but I pushed it back. That little voice had bugged me during chemistry class as well, and it was annoying. It wouldn't let me concentrate on what was going on around me.

I continued to watch, paying as much attention as I could despite the little voice. My heart leapt into my throat at the mention of the main character's title. They hadn't even used his name yet, but the other boy with him had called him "Brother", and that alone had gotten to me somehow. I grabbed the remote and paused it while I continued staring at the screen, blinking, yet seeing nothing.

"Ed? Something wrong?"

I shook my head wordlessly and clicked my tongue, forgetting my English for a moment. "Brother—-that's what the boy called me. He was my brother." I growled and threw my head back against the couch. "D—- it, what did I do to him?"

Robyn's hands were shaking as she took the remote control from my hand and pushed play. "Let's just—-continue watching for now, shall we?" I nodded, but didn't say anything in response. What was there to say, anyway?

I continued to watch as the characters were introduced. The little brother, his name was Al, and the older brother, whose name was the same as mine. Either I was just really obsessed, or—-no, that couldn't be the case. That was ridiculous. This was a cartoon, for pete's sake!

Then Al got pulled into this big purple mass, and I lost control. I jumped up and screamed at him before I realized what I was doing. I felt Robyn's hand in mine, and I turned to face her. She didn't seem to think I was stupid for any of my reactions at all. She seemed to understand the situation, which was surprising to me, considering how I was acting.

I followed her tug and sat back down on the couch, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "Sorry," I muttered.

She shook her head. "It's nothing. It's just—-I think you're relating to this even more than I thought."

I put my head in my hands. My shoulders were shaking, though I couldn't for the life of me understand why. This was just a cartoon. Even if I had been an obsessed fan before I lost my memories, I shouldn't be acting like this. It was stupid, just downright stupid.

My voice squeaked, and I tried to swallow it before it became audible, but there was just a lump in my throat. I wasn't going to cry, I wasn't going to cry, I wasn't going to cry—-

"Ed, are you alright?"

I wanted to say I was fine, but that would be a transparent lie, and even Robyn would be able to see through it, but I didn't want to say no either. I was just being stupid, reacting like this over a cartoon. Cartoons weren't real, they didn't happen to real people, or they weren't supposed to—-

I shivered. "I killed him, didn't I? I killed my little brother."

"Aw, Ed!" Robyn threw her arms around me, startling me out of my thoughts. Now I got to be distracted by wondering if I should appreciate being hugged instead of trying to deal with troublesome memories. Perhaps I should have been grateful, but I was annoyed.

"I doubt you killed your brother—-I mean, the Ed in this show didn't kill him."

I looked up at her, hope staining my face. "…He didn't?"

"No." She let go and sat back up, taking the remote and pushing play. "Just watch a couple minutes more and you'll see what I mean."

I watched, getting more and more disturbed as I did so. My hands were clenched on the arm of the couch and on my knee, and my knuckles had turned white. I was shivering from all the sweat running down my body, and I felt like I was going to pass out from all the stress. I couldn't take this much longer.

I jerked my hand up and pointed at the screen, a sign Robyn took to pause the movie. "That—-that armor—-that's what's on your door, isn't it?"

Robyn sighed. "Yes…"

I looked at her, then back at the screen, then back at her, and fidgeted in my seat. I wouldn't be able to last through much more of this, but I had to try and go for as long as I could. There was seriously something to this show, some vital clue that I was picking up on, and like it or not, I was going to find that clue, whatever it took.

A few moments later, I watched as "Al", the character who was now in the armor form, picked up "Ed" and rushed him to their friend's house. "Ed" had just lost his arm and leg. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and gripped my right arm with my left hand. I gritted my teeth. Something was disturbing about this whole thing. I couldn't take this. I had to get out—-NOW!

I lost my senses and bolted from my seat and out the door. Robyn was screaming behind me to tell her what was the matter, but I couldn't tell her. I couldn't talk. I couldn't handle this. There was just so much I couldn't deal with. If this show had anything to do with my past, it was pointing to something horrible, and I couldn't deal with it all at once.

I ran back to my house. My foster parents weren't home, and I breathed a sigh of relief and ran down to the basement. There was something I had to check on.

I stood before the large sheet-covered object with trembling hands. I couldn't bring myself to lift the sheet and verify what was under there. I knew what it was, but did I really "know"? I wasn't sure if I could handle finding out. I was too weak.

"Ed?"

I turned and saw Robyn coming down the stairs. She had let herself into the house. Not the politest girl I'd ever met, but perhaps I needed a rude friend at the moment. At least a rude friend was a strong friend.

"Hey, what happened back there? You got me all freaked out."

"You're telling me."

"Aw, Ed!" she said as she came closer to me, "your face is all wet. You've been crying!"

"I have not!" I rubbed at my eyes, though I knew that if there really was any evidence of crying there, she would have already seen it.

"Fine," she said, and she turned to look down at the sheeted mass I'd been staring at. "What's this?"

I tensed and turned away from it, shaking my head. "Nothing!"

She sighed and crossed her arms. "In the short time I've known you, I've learned at least a few things, like how to spot your lies. You're pretty transparent."

I crossed my arms in response and glared, though not at her. Her gaze was too soul searching and it begged for the truth. I couldn't take that, not now. I needed to be left to my thoughts so I could deal with them and not explode.

"So, are you going to talk?"

I shook my head, which seemed to be the wrong thing to do. Robyn grabbed my hand and pulled it so I was facing toward her, but then she frowned and looked at my arm. I grimaced. She hadn't grabbed that arm before, not my right arm. I hadn't let her. I hadn't known how to explain it and didn't want to try. Even after watching a few minutes of Fullmetal Alchemist and getting a potential explanation, I didn't want to use it. That show scared the crap out of me.

"Your arm is so—-hard." She looked up at me, a look of shock coming over her features. "No!—-Auto-mail?" I shrugged. If that was what the Edward in the series got, I wouldn't know. I'd run out before that part had been explained.

She turned around and looked at the sheet once again. "And this—-what is it?"

I shrugged again. I wished all this would just go away. I wanted to regain my memories, but why did pursuing them have to be so painful? "My foster parents—-the Elliots—-they, well, they found me out in the woods without any memories but the ones I told you about. And—-this was next to me."

Robyn raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

I sighed, knelt next to the sheet, and grabbed a corner of it. "You tell me." I stood up, and as I did so, pulled the sheet off the thing it was covering. Robyn's hands went to cover her mouth, and I stood there, watching, waiting, not knowing what I should do or say, but it seemed the reason I had freaked out so much over the show was now self explanatory.

The sheet had been covering a suit of armor, a suit of armor that looked way too much like that "Al" character for comfort. But it wasn't moving.

Robyn turned to look at me. "Oh, Ed…"

I dropped my gaze to the ground. "Is this—-my brother? Did I kill him?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, no, that's not possible! Al didn't die in the series. There must be something else to it."

I watched as she knelt down and removed the helmet and looked inside. "Huh, the blood rune is in there, so why isn't he moving?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Blood rune?"

She shook her head and sighed. "It's so weird to see you not knowing any of this stuff and yet living it."

"Tell me about it."

She stood up with a sigh and put her hands on her hips. "He's bound to the armor with a symbol painted out of blood—-your blood."

"My bl—-" I paused as the impact of her words sunk in. She wasn't talking like I was just an obsessed freak who loved the show too much, she was talking as if I really was the character, but how could that be possible? That was a cartoon, it just couldn't be—-

"Do you really think—-that's Al?"

A light ignited within the armor and shone out of the eye holes, about like I'd seen in the show Robyn had shown me. I gulped and walked over to the armor and knelt down beside it while stretching my hand out to touch it.

"Al?"

"Brother!"

I jerked my hand away from the armor. Even though part of me had been anticipating its speaking to me, a large part of me still refused to accept what I was seeing. Fullmetal Alchemist was a cartoon. Why was I doubting that? Maybe Robyn was playing tricks. What did she want from me?

The armor sat up, and I took a couple steps back and bumped into Robyn. We exchanged glances, and I turned back to face the bulky metallic thing that had come to life. It turned its head and looked at me. "Brother? Where are we?"

I clenched my fists at my sides. A question demanded an answer, and I was not going to reveal how scared I was by refusing to speak. "Great Barrington," I said.

Silence prevailed for one long moment before the armor said, "Where's Great Barrington?"

My mind was whirring, and I couldn't recall the name of the state that housed the city we were in. I rubbed my forehead to try and get the memory to return, but all I was getting was a headache.

Robyn placed her hand on my shoulder and said, "It's in Massachusetts."

The armor—-Al—-looked between me and Robyn once again before saying, "And—-where is Massawhatsit?"

Robyn chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Let's just say you boys aren't in Kansas anymore."

Another quick glance between me and Al, and we unanimously blurted out, "Kansas?"

Robyn sighed, threw her arms up in the air and stomped away. We'd only asked where Kansas was. Was that so unreasonable?

Hope you all enjoyed that, and come back soon. We'll try to update within a reasonable timeframe this time.