Chapter 9 Boundary of Emptiness

"Look, look, Mom!"

A boy ran towards his mother, in his hands were a small wooden horse. The woman who stood in front of the hedges of tomatoes turned and smiled gently at her son.

The tomatoes were fresh, a ripe scarlet.

The boy shoved the toy at his mother. Brown long hair tied in a ponytail that rested on her delicate shoulder, her warm face so kind and eyes full of light.

Tomatoes lay on her apron as the woman lifted the white fabric to carry them.

"That is wonderfully made, Ed." The mother's voice was soft.

The woman's smile was so light, so beautiful.

The scarlet tomatoes fell to the ground, some landing with a thud and were squashed, others rolling to the side. Crimson juice pooled like blood.

"But why Ed?" her voice became croaky, wheezing as if she was choking. "Why couldn't you make me right?"

The perfect picture became grotesque. Darkness crawled up the walls, slabs of gore hanging from the walls and ceiling. Blood trickled down, flowing and pooling on the ground as the pile of flesh twitched, breathing. Wheezing, sickening cracks and a dying voice could be heard. The hand moved, trying to crawl, to push itself off the ground.

"Ed…ward…"

"Nii-san…"

Little brother's voice wasn't screaming.

The boy turned, eyes widening in fear.

"Nii-san…"

"Why didn't you save me?"

He could no longer hold back screams. Everything was so bottled up, it became so stuffy. So tight, it hurt, it was agonizing. Edward woke with a shriek.

It was a cry of pure pain.

Ed was clutching the sheets of his bed as if trying to rip them apart. When he was brought to reality by a splitting headache, his gloved hands flew to his eyes and forehead. He was trying to make it all go away. He was trying to force his tears to disappear.

"Sorry…sorry sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry…" he muttered in his strangled voice.

"Ed! Ed, what's wrong?"

Go away, whoever you are.

He focused on whispering his apologies like a mantra.

"Ed! Are you alright? You're screaming. What's wrong?"

Concerned voice, worried voice, voice that cared. Impossible. No one would care. Voice was the wind. Voice didn't exist.

When a hand touched his shoulder, he yelped. Ed finally removed his hands from his eyes. Everything was a blur, random shapes floated around. Then he realized the intense pain from his back, and made a choked sound and retched to his side.

"Ron! Get Professor McGonagall!"

After Ed finished puking out whatever was left of his stomach, he coughed violently. His eyesight was still a blur of white, black and red. He felt like someone rammed a huge sword right through his chest.

Harry was having the panic of his life. Of course it was different from fighting Voldemort. His friend looked like he just got a huge dose of the Cruciatus Curse, for Merlin's sake! His heart was pounding as he tried sitting Ed up, frantically recalling healing spells to no avail. Harry noticed that Ed's right arm was very hard but skipped over the thought when the blonde began vomiting over the sheets.

What scared him was that the puke was tinged red prominently. Harry's mind was a whirl. Blood, he's throwing up blood.

The next moment, Edward Elric was in the hospital wing. He groaned, not because of the pain, but because of the fact that he was in a hospital. Other than the blood pounding in his brain and the slight burning sensation in his back, he felt quite fine. Tired, sore, hurting, but fine.

Ed noticed the school's healer, Madam Pomfrey and inwardly groaned. Who the heck am I kidding? He thought. This lady's never going to let me go.

Ed felt weak. Truth was playing with him again, he was sure of it. The fact that he gave the 'God' such a good show pissed him off.

"How long have I been here?" he asked, slightly shocked at his gruff voice. He sounded like he just woke up after getting drunk.

"Just fifteen minutes ago, dear," Madam Pomfrey said kindly.

Great. Ed thought. I could still catch the second period. No one would notice this soap opera ever happened.

"Where do you think you're going?" The nurse caught him getting up.

"Err…class?" Ed said, meeting the glare.

"You lie back down, mister." She looked really cross as she pushed him back on the bed. "I just found out that one of the students have two missing limbs and a couple of missing organs. No one your age should even…"

"What is your point?" Ed cut in rudely.

"Dear Merlin, there's not even a cut or anything! Your organs… this is probably why you look feminine…"

"What did you say?" he got up and yelled.

"Sit down, Elric! You shouldn't be standing, or doing anything!" she scolded.

"I'm fine," he said heatedly. "It was just a tough night."

"You are not going anywhere!" The healer folded her arms and glared at him.

"Why should I stay here? You can't do anything anyway!" he yelled.

The woman felt insulted. But she reminded herself that the boy had been a muggle for the most of his life so he never knew of magic healing. (Yes, everyone knows about him being muggle.) Madam Pomfrey's face softened and her eyes changed. Ed knew what that was. The thing he hated almost as much as the Truth: pity.

"Should I call your father, Mr. Elric?"

He frowned even harder. "No," he growled before pausing. "How many know of my relation to that bastard?"

The healer looked shocked. That patient of hers, how could he speak of his father with such disdain? She met his glare. That intensity in his eyes almost made her usual stern self falter. Madam Pomfrey gathered her calm.

"The whole staff. I do not know about the students."

Ed's eyes flickered to the ground. His hands were clenched, breathing steady and even. His face did not tell what was going on in his mind.

"I'm fine. This kind of thing happens sometimes," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Madam Pomfrey looked shocked all over again.

"I usually just take my pills and it's over. My life's not in danger or anything."

She sighed before glaring at him and the white bed.

Ed was now pissed. He really hated hospitals.

"Look, Madam. It's either I get out of here with a bunch of potions or I just get out of here," he snapped, emphasizing on the fact that he would be leaving.

"You are not going anywhere. The potion for regrowing flesh is currently heating. Lie down and it'll be ready in a few minutes." She gently pushed him to the bed.

"What?" he asked mouth agape.

"Yes. Regrowing organs are easier; your arm and leg should take a longer time. I can say; that's quite a big part of you missing. And we have to detach those metal contraptions from you skin…"

"There is no need," he interrupted coldly.

"What do you mean…?" she began, only to be interrupted again.

"I don't want you to," Ed said firmly.

"Why wouldn't you want that?" she asked. She was giving him a strange look.

He didn't answer for a long time. Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhy?

Those wounds were a symbol. They were scars that represent his binding to the Truth. The determination, the wish, the desire, the promise. Removing them would ease the pain but it gave the illusion of abandoning his brother.

Ed suddenly felt empty.

"You are better off not knowing," he said, slower than before.

Empty and lonely.

"Edward…" She noticed the sorrow mixed with pain in his glazed gaze. She reached out to touch him, but he shifted away.

Tainted.

"You can't do anything. No one can do anything," he muttered. Madam Pomfrey somehow knew he wasn't referring to his limbs or insides.

What is the point?

Edward was convinced. He convinced himself that he could win the damn game. He convinced himself that he would fulfill the desire of Truth and reclaim back his brother. And everything would return back to normal. He convinced himself that everything would go back to normal. Just without him in that picture.

Cold. Lonely. Empty.

"Can I go now?" he asked.

Edward Elric hurried to his dorm. To his surprised, it was all cleaned up, not a trace of his 'mess up' could be seen, or smelled. He took a two-minute shower and dressed before gathering his books and making his way to the Transfiguration classroom.

Everything was surely some form of punishment.

Look, torture in the form of a pink toad woman greeted Ed. He grunted in annoyance, making his way to his seat, ignoring all forms of weird looks from the classroom. He thought class would get his mind off things for a while but he was sorely mistaken. Forgotten pain would be replaced by another, and irritation flooded his system.

He tapped his Thestral hair wand on the table, frustrated, his cat Evie purring in front of him. Ed sighed and scratched the kitten's head.

"Ed," Harry whispered in the midst of Professor McGonagall's speech. "Are you all right?"

"Yup," he replied, trying to be reassuring. "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion and I'm fine."

His lie actually sounded convincing. His voice sounded awfully fake though.

"Hem, hem, Professor McGonagall," the toad said in a sickly sweet voice. "It has come to my attention that one of your students has not been practicing in your class."

Ed swore violently in his mind.

"Well," McGonagall answered calmly. "Edward Elric has confirmed himself as unable to perform Transfiguration."

The Professor had quoted Ed's own words. But of course that wouldn't satisfy the fat toad. Actually, if McGonagall had been 'conversing' with his father as she said she was, she would know why he didn't transfigure. Because of Nina. Because, similar to the Ishbalan's thinking of Alchemy, Transfiguration was simply a 'violation'.

"Tut tut." Umbridge smiled horribly. "Well, why not Mr. Elric try a simple spell for a first?" She pretended to think. "How about second year spell Vera Vetio? He does have his pet with him."

Edward felt his blood boil. How dare she? It took most of his self control to stop him from yelling at the toad woman. His voice wavered with anger.

"I would have to refuse."

"You don't have to be afraid of failure, Mr. Elric," she said.

"I refuse." This time, it was more of a growl.

The smile on the toad's face faded. "Do it, Elric."

"I don't see you making me, Professor."

There was a frown on her face, making her features bulge up and seem more, toad-like. "That'll be another week of detention for your cheek."

He gave a glare. One of his fiercest glares, right in the eye of the High Inquisitor. Umbridge almost flinched. She soon recovered though.

"It really isn't that hard, Mr. Elric." Her wand was drawn and before he knew it, there were three taps on the fur of Evie and a simple, "Vera Vertio."

The kitten morphed into a simple gold goblet.

"We'll have a talk about this later, Professor." Umbridge gave another disgusting smile. "You may continue with the lesson."

Edward raised his own wand. "Fi…" He couldn't seem to find the words. His mind was filled with pictures of that girl who merged with her pet dog. That girl who had called to him. He swallowed. "Finite Incantatum."

Punishment. Definitely punishment.

For all those lives he couldn't save.

McGonagall seemed impassive. At least she wasn't showing her pity. Evie miao-ed as she leapt into his arms.

Sorry.

How Ed hated this school. It seemed to take him apart bit by bit. Soon there won't anything left. Not like that was anything new.

So empty.

Cry, let emotion pour from inside in the form of tears. What are tears? Salt water that are produced from the tear glands in your eyes. But there seemed to be nothing to cry from. Does that mean that your tear glands have stopped functioning? Or that emotion has run out?

Ed went to the bathroom, again, as soon as classes were over.

As soon as he stepped into the deserted bathroom, he began thinking. Why did he come here? What was he expecting? It's not like anyone could change anything. He saw the friendly ghost floating by the sinks. Nick was already there, waiting for him with a frantic look on his translucent face.

Why did he come? "To talk to Nick," a part of his mind said. Ed could have laughed but what came from his mouth was a scoff. It was wrong of him. He told himself not to get attached to anyone, only with Al as an exception. But here he was, about to have a conversation with his ghost friend.

"Edward, I heard about your…incident in the morning. Are you all right?" Nick asked genuinely.

Ed tried to wave it off casually. But it didn't quite work.

Nick was flabbergasted. "He's practically torturing you! Why I'm going to give him a piece…"

Ed silenced the ghost with a light punch in the arm. "Hey, he's a bastard who controls the entire universe. Don't be an idiot looking for your second death," he said.

Nick rubbed his right arm, muttering under his breath.

"You know Transfiguration is an abomination to me. Alchemists who aren't wizards should feel the same." Ed's flesh hand was in his pocket, rubbing the carved surface of the silver pocket watch. "It's like we know, some of us even experienced, the consequences of tampering with life. It is so fragile, yet these wizards have it so easy. They can just manipulate it back and forth."

Nick sighed. "All of us will meet things we cannot accept. Just like how I protest on why I cannot join the Headless Hunt. I'm ninety-nine percent headless, yet why does that one percent make me different from the rest of those knights?"

Ed found the comparison actually made sense, no matter how funny it sounded.

Nick shook his head. "Until today I still blame the guy who wanted to chop my head off, yet did a terrible job at it."

Ed half-laughed.

"I can see you're feeling better," Nick said before he sighed. "A pity this isn't the best place for a chat." He floated a little higher. "Tampering with life? It is quite ironic for you to be discussing this topic with someone who is already dead."

"You do want to know, don't you?"

Nick chuckled. "I am curious, but I know shouldn't go beyond certain boundaries."

Ed smiled. "I'll tell you the sugarcoated version."

"Are you taking me for a wimp, Edward?"

"Nah, just equivalent exchange."

Ed lifted a silver pocket watch from his pocket. That watch had been with him throughout some of the worst most challenging parts of his life. It was just a reminder, a force to push him forward. "There was another State Alchemist. He seemed nice at first, but usually half of those guys I meet turn out to be bastards. He lived with his daughter, Nina, and a pet dog, Alexander. He specializes in making chimeras. That son of a bitch transmutated his wife two years ago to make a chimera who could speak human tongue. My brother and I were too late. He did transmutation Nina and Alexander. There was no way to turn them back."

"Big…bwother…"

Nick gasped. "That's terrible… no wonder you…"

"Lwets…pway…"

Edward opened the watch with a soft click. The words 'Don't Forget 3 Oct 10' stood out. The standstill time of 5.46 haunted him.

"She died in the end. Killed by another to be 'put out of that misery'." Edward closed the silver watch and opened it again. "We're just human beings then. Insignificant human beings who couldn't even save one girl," Ed muttered, knowing Nick could hear him clearly. "I was just human. A useless, insignificant human being, who couldn't save his own brother, let alone a little girl."

He hardened himself to the point that what he said included no emotion. Just indifference.

"I HATE YOU!"

But his eyes told a different story. The amount of guilt and sorrow was so great it was a wonder why they didn't overflow and spill as tears.

Nick sighed as Edward began clicking his pocket watch open and close. Each time, staring at it as the words and numbers were etched into his brain. "I just have to say one thing, Edward. If you move forward for their sakes, aren't you just looking back? You walk with your head turned; it's only a matter of time before you crash into something."

Ed's eyes widened and his State Alchemist pocket watch snapped shut.

Ed left the toilet (he felt strange spending so much time in it). He groaned, long and low as he dragged his feet through the corridors. He met Harry on the way and was using the last few minutes openly detest the impending doom. The Umbitch's office was at its original place (unfortunately), with all that pink frill torture in its full glory.

Edward went in with his usual frown and glare. However, Umbridge looked at him with a different gaze. It was frankly, disturbing.

"Mr. Elric, unfortunately, our detention sessions together can no longer continue," the toad said, a failure attempt to be dramatic.

"Why?" "What?" came from both Harry and Ed's mouths simultaneously.

"Mr. Potter, you may begin writing your lines, not poking into others businesses." Umbridge smiled (bleargh).

"Professor, you see I'm on the Quidditch team and I was just wondering if I could skip detention on Friday to go to the tryouts. I'll make up on another day." Ed could see Harry being a tinge, slight hopeful.

"Oh no, no." Harry's face fell. "You will come to detention on Friday. It's a punishment for spreading those nasty, attention-seeking stories." The toad was definitely enjoying that moment.

Harry grumbled for a moment before plopping his bag onto the ground and sitting down.

Umbridge's attention switched to the blonde. "I have received word of your situation from your father."

Ed was forced to bite his lower lip to prevent an outburst.

"It appears you were not in the perfect health."

A growl escaped his lips but Umbridge continued, unhearing.

"He told me of your tragic accident recently, leading your frail body. And you are in denial and thus your rebellious behavior in school," she was saying this with deliberation. Ed felt more pissed off. He hated pity, but fake pity was making his blood boil even more.

He twitched, clearly on his last nerve. "That ba…man…" He barely caught more swearing before they shot out of his mouth.

"Tut tut not another word. Your detentions will be done with Professor Snape who has so graciously volunteered. It will be less demanding and strenuous for that fragile body, won't it? Now, hurry along." Umbridge shooed him out, that smile and gaze unchanging and getting more annoying.

It took almost all of his mental strength to stop Ed from shoving a fist into Umbridge's face.

He made quite an exit though, slamming the door so hard that vibrations could be heard from the other side of the castle. The sound was loud and angry, clearly heard. Hohenheim from wherever he started getting nervous.

Snape's detention went pretty well, considering the fact that they wanted to make similar appointments. A touch of luck, you could say. Well, obviously for Ed, it wasn't. He got a lot of research done as his 'alchemy lesson' with Snape didn't last too long. Edward's anger and frustration was very, very prominent, like a volcano minutes away from exploding. The heat and choking I-want-to-murder-someone aura could be felt from five miles away.

The only thing that pleased Ed was that his research just achieved a new height. It calmed him down for he had a huge clue to what he was looking for (maimed soul). The only thing was that there was nothing solid from the books in the school's library. Edward immediately had the hunch that someone had deliberately hid the books away, so that not even the restricted section had anything. It was to protect the other, normal students, of course. What Ed was playing with was clearly too dark for their innocent minds.

But he knew what he needed to search for. And he knew where he could get the information from.

Ed spotted a slightly glowing figure about to walk into a wall. "Nick?" Ed said. His golden eyes were flashing with revived life and burning with determination.

Sir Nicholas popped out from the wall; his body was halfway through, wondering who called. "Ah, Edward. What brings you out so late?"

"Detention." Ed half-mumbled. Remembering the toad, he felt a slight irritation coming back.

Nick chuckled and floated towards the boy. "Oh I remember I was quite a rascal when I was…"

Ed cut him off, not wanting to hear another flashback from the ancient ghost. "I found a lead. And I need you and your ghost friends to help me out."

"What could be so difficult for the Edward Elric to seek the help of the dead?" Nick teased.

"I finished the book. And I have a hunch, just that it's really Dark magic," the prodigy alchemist said, smirking.

"There is no doubt of your intelligence, Edward," Nick said, his grin getting wider. "No surprise you figured it out already." The ghost's face was still grinning, but his eyes weren't. Those non-solid eyes were heavy, darker.

Ed noticed. But he grinned, pretending to have not. "So could you call your ghost friends already?"

"We'll meet in the usual place." Nick hesitated for a nanosecond before nodding, disappearing into the wall.

Ed ran a hand through his golden bangs before walking off at a slow speed.

Why is he sad? I found something; I took another step towards my goal.

One step closer to his grave.

Even so, he shouldn't be sad.

It was awkward. Horribly, terribly awkward. There was silence in the dark bathroom. It would be totally black, if not for the slight luminance of the twenty-seven ghosts gathered. Edward raised his right hand to scratch his head. Three ghosts flinched and another ducked into a toilet cubicle.

This is weird… Ed thought. He was in a bathroom, filled with the dead who mostly feared him and just about to request a favor.

"So…" Ed muttered to Nick, his golden eyes scanned the room. There was a ghost in chains, a depressing looking ghost, Professor Binns, a ghost dressed as a knight and many more, including Peeves the poltergeist. The more important thing was that some of them were shaking in their shoes while others looked like they were about to piss in their pants.

Nicholas patted him on the shoulder. "My fellow dead people," he said in a loud, clear voice. "Lord Edward Elric here has requested for your assistance."

"Lord?" Ed hissed. Nick merely winked.

"Do not fret, ghosts of Hogwarts," Nick continued. "Edward here will not eat you under any circumstances. He is human in the inside and has ensured me that he will not harm a single soul."

At first were strange looks and some ghosts relaxed. Not all, but it's a start.

"Erm…" Ed began. "Firstly, Truth," there was a dramatic intake of breath. "Told me to look for a 'maimed soul'. I have recently found out that the infamous Killing Curse causes 'soul instability'. The Avada Kedavra takes the life of the person but at the same time takes a part of the murderer. Equivalent exchange, maybe. The curse rips the soul of the killer apart. The ripped part will die instantly and the rest of the soul will slowly be torn apart and the murderer will become insane." Ed took a breath, carefully observing for reactions among the ghosts. Some of them looked intrigued, some shocked, some merely waiting with a look of indifference.

"So, Lord Elric," the knight looking ghost said, his voice rumbled. "How are you going to collect something that will disappear?"

What's with the 'Lord'? Ed wondered. "Yeah, I was getting to that. One, I could find a way to get a murderer's soul before it dies. But I don't think Truth would want something like that. It's too…common." Ed knew Truth sought 'entertainment' and a petty killer's soul wouldn't be satisfying for the sadist. Truth wanted to torment Ed, make the game more difficult. Ed realized that he had paused again. "So, I'm thinking that there is a way to spilt the soul, yet the pieces are still alive. Like a container of some sorts. It's a theory, but I'm guessing the facts cannot be found within the students' reach. So could you guys help me research that?" Ed asked, wondering if he sounded polite.

The surrounding ghosts nodded.

Sir Nicholas beamed but the look in his eyes barely faded as he dismissed the gathering of the dead. Edward heaved a sigh of relief.

"So, Nick, what's with the 'Lord' thing?"

"Ah, Edward. We ghosts have two superiors we must treat with upmost respect. One is the Truth, second are the Homunculi."

"Oh, I see." He yawned. "I'm going to bed."

"Have a good night, Lord Elric," Nick teased.

Ed scrowled. "Don't call me that," he muttered. "And don't look at me like that."

'Look at you like what?' 'Like I'm already dead.' 'But you're already digging your own grave.'

Making his way to the Gryffindor common room and feeling slightly at ease. It was almost curfew. The night seemed warmer than usual, which put him in a slightly good mood. Unfortunately, that was spoilt when he saw a certain Alchemy Professor standing by the Fat Lady portrait.

Seems like Ed's positive moments are being constantly ruined.

His mind immediately filled with thoughts of murder. He didn't like it. People were always throwing him looks he detested. And Hohenheim might have made it worse. Ed erupted immediately after seen his face.

He stormed over and threw back his arm. A punch was delivered across.

Feeling a whole lot better, Edward said nothing, approaching the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. He quickly gave the password and wanted to waltz in pretending no one was there. Hohenheim of Light grabbed his hand to prevent him from entering. His other hand was nursing a broken nose.

Edward snatched his hand away from the grip like he was burnt.

"Get out of here, bastard," Edward growled, not wanting to wake any students.

His father reached for his shoulder, managing to hold it before Ed shook the grip away.

"I never asked you to do anything! I don't need or want your help, Hohenheim!" Ed half-yelled. "It's not like I'm already dead! Not like you would care, bastard, but leave me alone!"

"Ed…" Hohenheim sighed. "I was worried."

A hand was still on his hurting nose. Ed frowned harder, staring at that hand, noticing its slight trembles.

"My life or death is none of your business anymore," he said. Ed's eyes flickered away from his father's face and he turned to enter the Gryffindor common room.

Hohenheim caught his arm again. "I never got the chance to apologize."

Edward snorted. However, he hesitated for a moment before shaking the hand away. "I don't give a damn."

His father sighed and reached for his son's hand for the third time. "It's not only that, Edward." Hohenheim managed to catch the Ed's golden gaze.

"Get on with this shit," he muttered. After all, you apologize and everything remains the same. Or it just repeats like a cycle.

Hohenheim let go of his nose, barely wincing. "Your right arm again, Ed? It's a matter of time before my nose gets crooked like Albus's," he groaned.

Edward walked in a fast pace, a corridor away from the portrait hole, unhearing, indifferent. His stride was the same, angry and frustrated footsteps. Confused, hurt footsteps.

"I thought you had run out of time," Hohenheim murmured, relief and desperation heard in his tired voice. Edward stopped.

"Truth won't let me go this soon," Ed said, hoping that would clear up the conversation.

"It's not that, Ed. It's the Philosopher's stone."

"That's why you told the toad bitch?" Ed asked stiffly. His left leg shifted, as if about to kick someone. But that turned into shuffled footsteps.

"The stone was once part of me so I can feel it. You'll be killing yourself in this rate."

"I would never use it. I promised Al I wouldn't." He scoffed. "You don't have to be worry about that. I'll be in my grave soon."

Hohenheim clearly tensed at that. He felt like his heart was ripped in two.

Ed also felt a tinge of guilt.

"The stone is made of souls, life forces, to go against the law of equivalent exchange. Those unequal mass transmutations you did before wasn't done by the Philosopher's stone," Hohenheim explained, rubbing the back of his head.

Ed remembered the encounter with the dementor. "Then what?" he asked.

"Your resentment somehow created a block in that energy pathway. Therefore the Philosopher's stone in you made from the billions of souls are untouched." He wanted to look his son in the eye, but he was finding it rather difficult.

"How?" Edward was too avoiding his gaze. There was muffled sadness with every moment that passed.

"You were using your own 'philosopher's stone' to create those 'miracles'."

Ed took a moment to process the information.

"So I'm using my own life force to power the unequal transmutations." Ed swallowed, his face hardened. "Good."

He was smacked in the head. "This is not good, Ed!" Hohenheim exclaimed. "This is your life we're talking about!"

"What the hell was that about?" Ed yelled. "At least I'm not using their lives!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Hohenheim was close to yelling, but with much control, he forced himself to remain calm. "A normal human wouldn't have so much life force to constantly perform large scale transmutation. Especially when they are not biological transmutations; it takes up a part of your life span."

Edward fell silent. He was trembling ever so slightly. "The bastard is forcing me to use the stone."

"Ed…" There was a slight pleading tone.

He was shaking now. "I'd never…I would never do it…Who knows who's trapped inside this wretched body? And Al…"

"Edward…stop…" Hohenheim was begging.

They boy's eyes flashed. "What makes you think I can go back now?"It seemed like a innocent question. Hohenheim wanted to speak but he was cut off. "I just have to maintain the block right?"

The father forced his voice to harden and lose the emotion. "But at the brink of death, would you be strong enough?"

Edward nodded. His golden eyes held a strange darkness.

"What about Alphonse?"

"I'll do something."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"I made a promise."

Hohenheim stared his son who was looking at his feet. Ed looked like a child who made a mistake. A child filled with innocent guilt. But his son was shivering in a warm night, glassy golden orbs that were ice cold.

He didn't stop shivering.

Hohenheim wanted to do something. Anything. a simple hug, a gesture of comfort. But once his fingers brushed the shoulder of Ed, the boy would jerk, flinch like physical contact hurt.

There was a choked whisper, almost inaudible.

"I would rather die…than use the life of another…"

And those words were what that was truly painful.

Harry was nursing an aching hand, muttering curses under his breath as he made his way to the Gryffindor Tower. Part of his mind was focused on the overwhelming pain. Another part of curious, suspicious of a certain Edward Elric.

He felt sort of jealous. Harry would take detention with Snape rather than getting his hand cut up.

Just as he turned, he heard mutterings from the long corridor in front of him. Inaudible words. But the pain in the atmosphere could be clearly felt.

Harry took a few steps towards the edge of a broom closet, pressing his back to the wooden door and hiding in the dent. The pain of his hand was forgotten.

A yell made him jump.

Ed snapped out of his trance, though his eyes still looked glazed.

"I'm sorry."

He did say it in the end. Sincerity was deeply etched in the words. But they were just words. Utterly meaningless.

"For what?" Ed asked. "Leaving me and Al? Letting Mom die? Vanishing off the face of the earth?"

"Yes…" Regret. Another word. Guilt. Another word. "And for leaving you in Germany."

"I don't care about that," Edward said, his voice strangled.

"I had my reasons…" Hohenheim began.

"WELL I DON'T CARE!" Ed raised his voice considerably, shouting. "I did the same, didn't I? You left me a note and disappeared. I gave you another note and a pool of dried blood in your room."

"Edward…"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE THE GUTS TO TELL ME TO MY FACE! YOU JUST WALKED OUT LIKE YOU DID WITH MOM!"

"MOM DIED! AND GUESS WHAT, I DYING TOO!"

He could see the door closing, the shadow shrinking into nothing. He could see his mother's smiling face. He could hear her dying words. He could feel her hand releasing his.

"Next time you want to leave someone's life like that, don't bother coming back."

Its equivalent exchange, isn't it?

Leaving without saying goodbye is telling a person not to follow.

There wasn't a choice.

Never, ever, given a choice.

Mom was different. She knew she couldn't come along. She wanted to wait. She wanted to wait for him to come home. And she waited till her last breath.

And what about him?

Edward had lurked around the corridors for an hour or so. When he made it back to the Gryffindor Tower, he didn't have the strength to climb up the stairs to the dormitories. Anyway all that waited in that bed were nightmares. Ed curled up on an armchair in the common room, watching the Gryffindor fire dance.

He closed his eyes tightly.

Ed had always been in life threatening situations. He knew he had to risk his life, but never had the time to actually think about that.

But he thought of death now.

He considered it.

He wondered how it felt.

He opened his eyes to admire the flickering flames of the fire and curled into a tighter ball. He squeezed his tired eyes shut.

…...

I…...

I…don't…...

Want…to…...

…to…die...

…...

It is said that even the bravest heroes are afraid of death. It is said that monsters should die alone.

Reminders. They lodge themselves into the pits of his stomach. The aching agony and pain, yet the desire and longing. Reminders. He would rather do without them. but it isn't possible to let go.

Why can't you just let go?

It would cause your insides to rot.

Edward refused to cry. He opened his eyes again. the fire flickered. Flames danced, a warm orange. So warm, so much better than the cold bed. The fire reminded him of his promise, the one last string that tied his very existence. The fire reminded him of sacrifice, what he much give, what exactly is equivalent exchange.

If you move forward for their sakes, aren't you just looking back? You walk with your head turned; it's only a matter of time before you crash into something.

The words haunted him.

Don't want to die.

And the past held onto him with an iron grip. Pale faces, lifeless eyes, bloodless fingers.

Then, forget?

His eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Darkness was about to claim him as he felt the dissolving of that never-ending ache. He didn't know if he could wake up.

No, don't forget.

Ed thought he could open his eyes. But there was only darkness and he tried lifting his hands to feel his surroundings, like a lost child in the dark.

Winry? His voice came out light and his fingers felt like lead.

No, don't forget. Just hold them close.

Winry… He was trying to reach out.

And remember to come home.

Outside the dream, the fire was burning intensely in a gentle manner. The fingers of the flames wrapped together, like a silent prayer.

And a tear escaped from his closed eye.

Harry was feeling very disturbed. He somehow managed to hear a conversation, find some bits of information about his enigma friend and avoid getting caught altogether. He crushed a slip of parchment in his hand.

"Sirius said to meet at the fire at one," he said.

"Yeah, but there's someone there!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione hushed him abruptly. "It's only Ed! And keep your voice down; he's asleep!"

The fire flickered and there was empty silence.

"He's crying…" she then said, barely a whisper. "What could he be dreaming about?"

Hello

This is such a long chappie! Hope you like it! Very depressing though… Well, something good for you to know is that after 10 long chapters of heartache and tragedy, the next chapter will be on healing.

Okay, so here's the overview.

The timeline's not totally following the book. I tweaked it a little. There're some gaps in between but this whole chapter is occurring in a single day.

I also tried lifting the mood with humor for the ghost gathering part. But I couldn't forget that it's not a total good thing that he's getting clues. It means he's closer to saving his brother, but also closer to his death.

So the Hohenheim thing was the total depressing part. I made Hoho so mean, leaving Ed like that… But it's true, he does have some valid reasons (revealed in later chapters).

Harry knows! There's a time gap here, so he didn't get caught and only heard the yelling part at the end. He didn't tell anyone yet either.

Also, I tried a little comfort by adding Winry's voice. Make Ed feel more at ease. Please give me feedback on this.

WOW! Hundred reviews! Thank you so much! I'm extending my sincerest thanks to all who reviewed, favourited and alerted me! Thank you for your support! I hope to receive more in the future! Once again, THANKS!

Review lots :) Thanks again

ssapphireangel