Author's note: I passed the 30,000 word mark, so I think I'm far enough ahead to post this next chapter. Thanks for sticking with my story!
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Chapter 9
Confession
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Alphonse carefully tipped the pitcher, his weariness making him cautious of spills. It was early afternoon on the second day of his vigil, and he had only caught a few restless naps ever since his brother's collapse. The nurses had been kind enough to bring him a sandwich and some water for lunch, which he had eaten mechanically at Edward's bedside, barely tasting it. Worried as he was, the hours crawled by. Mustang had apologetically excused himself to go to work, though he left Hawkeye behind to keep the young man company. She eventually had to leave to run some errands, but not without making him promise to call if any emergency arose.
The doctor seemed fairly confident that none would. He claimed that Ed's collapse was the result of nervous exhaustion and the consequence of him not taking his recovery seriously. Al guessed that his brother had made a pain of himself during his last few visits; the staff had that long-suffering look to them that people often got around his short-tempered sibling.
He swirled his glass, watching tiny bubbles whirl in miniature eddies before dissipating. He was just raising the tumbler to his lips when a groan made him pause.
"Al?" The voice was weak, the word mumbled.
"Brother!" Alphonse jumped to his feet, his relief and joy evident, nearly dropping his glass in his rush to set it on the side table. He crushed his brother in a hug, hastily loosening his grasp when the smaller boy grunted in pain. "Are you okay?"
Edward tried and failed to sit up, cradling his forehead with his flesh hand. "I feel like I got hit by a truck. What happened?"
"You fainted at the bar last night. Do you remember anything?" Al's eyes anxiously searched his face.
"Not… not much. I remember getting home from work, and us deciding to go out. I got a beer, and started to feel kinda queasy. Then, I think… I got up? Maybe?" He trailed off, his pale brow wrinkling as he tried to dredge up the memory.
"You turned as white as a sheet, and just collapsed." Alphonse's face tightened in sorrow and anger. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well? Why were you hiding it?"
"I wasn't really hiding it, you knew I wasn't feeling that great." Ed refused to meet his brother's eyes, instead picking at imaginary lint on the bedspread.
Al's voice grew harder, sharper. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lyi-"
"Brother! Just stop!" Golden eyes flew up to meet amber, shocked into making contact. "You knew something was wrong, and you hid it from me. Mustang told me what happened in the desert, about how you can't transmute. Didn't you trust me? Didn't you think I could help?" Alphonse's voice was shaking now, his hands balled into fists. "We promised each other that we would stick together through everything, Brother. Why didn't you tell me?"
Ed huddled in his bedsheets, pinned down by his brother's words. "I didn't want you to worry." When he spoke, his voice was tiny.
"So you didn't think I could handle it? Is that it?" Al's voice was strained, feeling betrayed at the thought that his brother had so little trust in him.
"It's not that. It's just…" the young man trailed off, looking pale and lost.
"What? Please, Brother, just tell me." A bit of pleading had crept in.
"I'm frightened." Edward's eyes again slid off to the side, this time in shame.
Alphonse sat back in his chair, shocked. He had, of course, seen his brother afraid before; more rarely had he heard him admit his fear. Only a few times had he heard him speak in that tone of voice; his most vivid memory of it was the time that Ed had admitted that he was afraid that Al hated him for the failed transmutation that trapped the younger Elric in a suit of armor.
"You're afraid that you won't get your ability to transmute back?"
Edward shook his head in denial. "It's not that. Though, I mean, that would really suck. No, I'm just…" he gripped his blanket tightly, twisting it until his knuckles turned white. Al waited silently for him to continue. "I think… I think I've lost my mind. Or I'm in the process of losing it."
Al's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He'd had a whirlwind of fears running through his brain this whole time, but Edward losing his sanity hadn't been one of them. "What makes you think that?" He was careful to keep his voice neutral, leery of upsetting his obviously distraught brother.
"Wherever I go, I feel like the earth is moving under my feet."
Alphonse gave an inward sigh of relief. "Brother, that's probably just from your leg being messed up, and the drugs the kidnappers put you on."
Edward shook his head. "No, that's what I told myself at first too. But it's been getting worse."
"Worse?"
"It feels more violent, and it's starting to feel… alive." He looked sick at the thought.
"What do you mean by 'alive'?" Al glanced involuntarily at the floor, but it remained its usual inanimate self.
"Like I'm standing on a pile of snakes or something. It's like there's something writhing around under the ground. I can't see it, but I can feel it." He shuddered.
"Is that why you've been having trouble with your balance?"
"Pretty much. I mean, some of it is from my leg being screwed up. But, yeah, it's mostly from the ground moving. And it's been getting stronger and stronger."
The younger Elric chewed on his lip in thought. Something about all this sounded very familiar, but in his exhaustion he couldn't quite place it. "Is it just the ground that's bothering you?"
"No. I've also been seeing things… flickering lights and shapes out of the corner of my eye. Not all the time, just sometimes. Mostly when I'm tired." He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
Al frowned in thought for a moment. "Do… do you see them right now?"
Edward glanced around the room. "Not right now. It's worse when I'm outside, or in a crowded place."
"Is there anything else?"
"It… it sounds kind of stupid." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"What is it?" Alphonse leaned forward in his chair, trying to project an air of encouragement.
"You know back when Izumi was training us? That feeling of dread you'd get if you didn't finish your chores and you knew she was going to kill you? It feels like that."
His brother wrinkled his brow in confusion. "It feels like you didn't do your chores?"
"No! Shit, I mean, yeah, it kind of feels like that. Like there's something really important that I was supposed to do, and someone's gonna to be pissed when they find out I didn't do it. It's like somebody's breathing down my neck. Every night I have these dreams where I'm rushing around trying to finish something, but I can never figure out what it is I'm supposed to do." Edward growled in frustrated despair. "Damn it, I think I really am going crazy." He buried his head in his hands.
Paranoia, hallucinations… some part of Alphonse couldn't help but feel that yes, these were the symptoms of insanity. He instantly quashed that thought; determined to find a logical explanation. He gripped his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "Well, I don't think you're crazy. I bet it has something to do with that weird array you found. I'm sure if we go over it, together," he put a strong emphasis on the word, "we'll be able to figure it out."
Edward looked up, fear and hope battling in his eyes. "You do?"
Alphonse smiled. "We managed to defeat the homunculi and save the world, I'm pretty sure we can deal with some run-down old transmutation circle."
Ed's eyes crinkled in a grateful smile. "Thanks, Al."
His younger brother smiled sweetly back, then punched him hard in the shoulder.
"Ow! What the hell!"
"That's for not telling me what was going on. Jerk." The menacing words were said with a smile, though his eyes still held a trace of the fear and betrayal he'd felt.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry, okay?" Edward rubbed his arm, guilt keeping him from further complaints.
Al settled back in his chair, feeling better about the situation than he had in hours. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got beat up; sore all over, nasty headache, kind of want to throw up." He lay back fully against his pillows, looking shaken from their intense discussion. His stomach gave a loud rumble; "Really hungry, too."
His brother smiled sympathetically. "I'll go get the doctor to check you over, and get one of the nurses to bring you something to eat."
Ed broke out the puppy dog eyes. "Can't you switch that around and get me food first?"
Al was immune. "No, Brother, I should've gotten the doctor right away as it is. You stay right there and let the nice people here take care of you." He hustled off on his errand, pointedly ignoring the whining that followed him out the door.
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Alphonse returned twenty minutes later to find Hawkeye standing guard outside Edward's hospital room. He slowed his pace, carefully balancing his tray of soup, bread, and the ever-hated milk. "Hello, Lieutenant. I didn't know you were coming back so soon."
Hawkeye smiled, but moved to block his entrance into the room. "I wouldn't go in there right now."
Al raised his eyebrows. "Is my brother giving the doctor a hard time?"
Riza shook her blonde head, half in denial, half in exasperation. "The doctor left a few minutes ago; Ed's just angry about my errand."
"What?" The young man's forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"The General had me go fetch your father this afternoon."
"Oh." Both were painfully aware of the Fullmetal Alchemist's infamously bad relationship with his father. Alphonse had always been the more affectionate and forgiving of the brothers, and nowhere was this difference more apparent than in their attitudes toward Hohenheim. Edward could hold a grudge until you pried it from his cold, dead hands; Alphonse had a gentler heart. The same part of him that made it impossible ignore an orphaned kitten forbade him from withholding forgiveness. He knew that their father deeply regretted missing so much of their childhoods; even more, he understood that Hohenheim's actions on the Promised Day were an expression of his regret and love. Al deeply disagreed with it, but he still understood the motivation. And, deep inside, he was grateful not to be trapped in the empty white limbo of the Gate.
He feared his brother would never understand. In Edward's eyes the moment Hohenheim stepped through the Gate to bring Al home he became no better than any of the other twisted men who used the Philosopher's Stone for their own gain.
Al carefully set the tray down on a nearby chair, unwilling to interrupt his brother. At least there didn't appear to be any yelling going on; from what he could hear, there didn't appear to be any conversation. He settled down to wait, hoping that the silence was a good sign.
His father came out ten minutes later, looking bone-weary in some indefinable way. "Dad!" The youngest Elric jumped to his feet.
Hohenheim smiled, genuinely pleased to see his son. "Alphonse. I'm glad to see you; you were asleep when I stopped by yesterday."
Al looked surprised, "You should've woken me up."
"You looked very tired, and the Lieutenant promised me that I could come back today." He nodded gratefully at Hawkeye before turning a more serious eye on his youngest child. "We're all going to have to sit down and have a long discussion sometime soon."
"Is that what you and Brother were doing? Talking?" Alphonse was surprised at the rush of relief he felt knowing that their father was helping sort this mess out.
The older man sighed. "I did most of the talking; Edward mostly just glared."
"He's still pretty angry about… well, everything." Hohenheim nodded sadly, and Al hastened to reassure him. "But at least he wasn't yelling! That's a good sign, right?"
Van's face crinkled in amusement. "I suppose so. Though perhaps he was simply too tired to yell." Al looked disheartened. "On the other hand, maybe it was a good sign. He did agree to work with me in going over his transmutation problem."
Alphonse searched his father's golden eyes, so much like his brother's. "Did he tell you about… the rest of it?"
Hohenheim's expression was grave. "Bits and pieces. The little he did say is very troubling." He turned a keen eye on his child. "I have the feeling that he gave you far more detail than he gave me. Why don't we see if the Lieutenant here can find us a nice secure room so we can sit down and compare notes?"
Apprehension and optimism warred within him, hope winning out. "That's a great idea, Dad. Let me give Brother his lunch, and then we can get to work."
He carried the tray in to his obstinate sibling, who lay glaring at the ceiling tiles. They chatted desultorily for a few minutes before Al made his excuses and ducked out, Edward still too tired and angry to object. He paused a moment in the doorway, watching his brother pick at his bread. "I'll see you later, okay?"
Ed didn't look away from his lunch. "Yeah, see ya."
Al smiled and turned away, his mind racing ahead. With their father, the only living Xerxian alchemist, on the case, Edward was sure to be cured. The young man strolled out the door, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his heart.
x
"How did you even know where he was?"
Mustang's eyes shot to the door, surprised. His men had left for the day, and Hawkeye had gone to fetch a late dinner, so he was currently alone in the office.
Or at least he should have been. Instead, the rather pale Fullmetal Alchemist was leaning against his doorframe looking dangerously high strung.
"I beg your pardon? And aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?"
Edward was breathing heavily, either from anger or illness. "I said 'How did you know where the hell he was?'" Ah, definitely anger; Mustang sighed.
"After I understood the full extent of the danger, I decided that protective custody was in order. As soon as we returned to Central I had Hawkeye arrange a place for him to stay." Mustang fell back on his tried-and-true military authority. Unfortunately, military authority had had little effect upon Edward even when he was in the military, and it had even less impact now.
"And you didn't even bother fucking mentioning it to me? Like, 'Hey, Ed, by the way, I've got your dad under fucking house arrest?'" Edward was livid.
Mustang struggled to maintain his cool, silently reminding himself that he was the adult in this situation, and nothing good ever came of lowering himself to Fullmetal's level. "He's not under house arrest; I discussed the situation with him, and came to a mutual agreement."
The younger man sneered. "Oh, how nice, you came to an agreement. Didn't it occur to you that I would want to be the one to discuss the 'situation' with him? But no, you had to come in all goddamn gung-ho general and take control. Fucking bastard."
Mustang's self-control snapped a little. "Damn it, Fullmetal, be reasonable. You and I both know that you would've put off talking to him for weeks, possibly forever. You're both in very real danger, not to mention all of the innocent bystanders who could get dragged into this. I know you're angry about what he did, but how would you feel if something happened to him because you had never bothered to warn him?"
Ed's anger visibly deflated, leaving him drawn and shaky. "Damn it, I know I shouldn't have put it off, it's just…" he trailed off, grimacing.
Mustang shot him one of those all-knowing looks that never failed to annoy. "Still haven't forgiven him for saving Al's life?" The younger man grit his teeth, glaring at his erstwhile superior. Mustang's voice softened, a hint of sadness coloring it. "Have you forgiven me?"
The blond's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "For what?"
Roy raised a hand to his face, fingers ghosting over his eyes. "For allowing Dr. Marcoh to use the Philosopher's Stone to restore my vision. For making him use it so Havoc could walk again."
Edward sighed, letting himself flop down onto Roy's guest chair. "I never held it against you in the first place."
"Why is it different?"
"You never intended to open the Gate, you shouldn't have had to pay the toll. And it's different because he knew how Al and I felt about using the Stone to restore our bodies, and he did it anyway." The feeling of betrayal he normally masked under anger at his father was visible now. "He completely violated everything that we stood for."
"I don't think he did." The General's voice was gentle; Ed rolled his eyes, but did not interrupt. "Fullmetal, think about it. He's been walking around for hundreds of years filled to the brim with other people's souls; talking to them, grieving for them. He had a chance to lay them to rest while simultaneously saving both his son and Amestris. Did it ever occur to you that it's what those souls wanted?"
Edward sat very still, not looking at Roy. He gave no indication of hearing, but Roy could tell that his words were sinking in.
"Edward, they were with your father every moment of every day, completely aware of their surroundings. They watched you and Al as children, knew how much your father loved you and grieved over you. Don't you think that they would have wanted to save Alphonse?"
Fullmetal looked up at him, something like hope in his eyes. Despite his violent protests to the contrary, some part of him had wanted to be able to forgive his father. A very small part, he added silently to himself. "You think that they were… aware?"
Mustang nodded. "I've spoken to your father at length about it; he was able to name every single person who'd been sacrificed to create his Philosopher's Stone. Not just their names; he was able to speak with them, to feel their thoughts and emotions. Honestly, I think it would've driven me crazy." He gave a tilted grin. "Ed, they chose to return through the Gate. Can you blame your father for granting their last wishes?"
The young man took a deep breath, let it out in a gusty sigh. "I'll think about it." He pointed at Roy, glaring. "He's still a bastard, though."
Mustang smiled, relieved at his protégé's softening heart. "If he's a bastard, what does that make you?"
Edward sighed and sunk back into the chair cushions. "A tired son of a bastard."
"Like I said before you started yelling at me, aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?"
The younger man waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, they said that I just need rest, and I can do that at home better than at the hospital."
"Yes, I can see that you're getting plenty of rest." The General's voice was sardonic.
"Besides, I've got a class to teach tomorrow. I already missed the lab I was supposed to instruct today, don't want to miss another day of work." He let his eyes close and sighed.
Roy winced in guilt. "Sorry, I didn't even think of contacting the university to let them know you were in the hospital."
Ed shook his head, not opening his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Al called 'em. Had my TA cover it for me…" his voice trailed off.
The two men sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes. When the silence lengthened, Mustang realized that he had been the only one contemplating.
"Ed?" The teenager mumbled something and snuggled deeper into the chair. "Fullmetal, get up. Go home if you're going to sleep." No response; Mustang realized that this was a battle he wasn't going to win. He had just picked up his pen to begin signing paperwork when the boy's head tilted back and he began to snore.
"Damn it."
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Author's note: I just realized that I can respond directly to reviews! (Yes, I'm slow). If you have a question or a comment you'd like to get a response to, leave a review and I'll do my best to wrestle technology into submission and answer it.
