Author's Note: I realized potential readers of this story this might be more interested in what happens in what I'd intended to Post next Saturday than in the first ten Chapters due to what happens in these Chapters versus what happens in the first batch, so I'm Posting the second batch today. I'm not attempting to draw attention to my story, and I'm sorry if it looks like I am. I don't care about my stories getting attention. I'm Posting the second batch because I'm worried the first ten Chapters weren't that interesting and I want people to enjoy this story, and since I have more available I can Post now, I'm hoping Posting the second group now will give potential readers a story they enjoy reading more. (Though I'm not doing this in the sense of catering to the masses.) I'm sorry if I bored anyone.
If I realize later I should have Posted the whole story sooner, though, I'm still waiting until 12:00 Midnight Saturday - I believe I'm experienced enough with Posting Chapters here I can time the release correctly now - to Post what might be the third and final batch (I'm saying 'might' because I may have Chapters past Twenty-Three done by then). I hope, if people found the first batch of Chapters uninteresting, those reading this find this portion of the story more interesting!
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CHAPTER 11:
SHADOW OF A BELOVED COMPANION
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Isaac's eyes opened.
Most people wouldn't have heard it, but Isaac was a veteran of the Ishvalan Civil War, a conflict in which the enemies of the Amestrian military had been experts at using the arrangements of their towns, villages, and cities, and the terrain, to their advantage. His senses had been trained to react to the slightest shift in the area around him, and Isaac knew someone had quietly opened the door to the clothes store and was creeping through it.
He'd been found at last.
Isaac crawled out of his sleeping bag and got to his feet. He checked his left palm to ensure the alkahestry transmutation circle drawn there hadn't been smudged during his sleep, and when he saw it hadn't, he tiptoed to the door of the office he was in and looked through the eye slot.
For a number of seconds he saw nothing, and then a familiar male with black hair in a ponytail, now wearing a white suit with a white, brimmed hat, crept past an aisle between stands of clothing.
Isaac sneered. The Fϋhrer was even willing to pardon a criminal who had killed five officers for fun if Bradley could make use of him. It didn't surprise Isaac, though. It wasn't the lowest Bradley had sunk by an enormous margin.
There was no reason to waste any time.
Isaac picked up the jug of water on the table near the door, swung it open, and touched the jug with his left hand. Blue currents ran over it, and raced in the direction he'd seen Kimblee walk, then hurled an amount of the water in the jug, now highly pressurized and capable of erupting, at the Crimson Alchemist. Kimblee threw himself behind a circular clothing rack, but Isaac touched the jug again and thrust it in that direction, and a geyser burst from it in blue light to tear through the clothing racks at Kimblee.
Kimblee, though, clapped his hands and touched the circular rack, and metal fragments exploded before him in blue energies, blocking the geyser.
Kimblee smiled. "It's good to see you again, McDougal," he greeted. "Our conversation when I was in prison was one of the most interesting diversions from the monotony of my prison life I had the pleasure of going through. I've been looking forward to reuniting with you and being so greatly entertained again for a long time."
Disgust rose within Isaac. There shouldn't have been anything entertaining about someone believing Kimblee wasn't a bastard. That Kimblee found Isaac's mistake entertaining was further proof Kimblee was filth.
"You won't find it entertaining when I transmute all the water in your body into steam and scald you alive," Isaac retorted. He wasn't as sure of himself as his words implied, though. He knew Kimblee couldn't have come here alone, and soldiers were undoubtedly surrounding the clothing store. They might be waiting for Kimblee to tie him up in combat before moving in.
He needed to finish this quickly.
So blue washed through the air from his left palm and five ice sculptures shaped like kunai launched into the air from the water jug. Kimblee was able to tell by their trajectories they weren't going to hit him, and stood still, looking at the Freezer Alchemist warily and attempting to figure out what he was up to.
Isaac knelt on the floor as the kunai hit it and pressed his left palm against it, but as Isaac did, Kimblee's eyes widened, the Crimson Alchemist realizing what was going on. He jumped out of the remote circle as it activated in crackling blue, and Isaac was just able to transmute the water near the right side of Kimblee's right leg into steam. Kimblee clenched his teeth as the steam scorched him and staggered as he landed on the floor, and Isaac transmuted with his Philosopher's Stone, hoping to strike the Crimson Alchemist before he could recover.
Red crackled over his right wrist, and Isaac transmuted the water in the blood of his right wrist, launching it out of his wrist in the form of three sharp-pointed red constructs and ignoring the pain from his skin being ripped open. They shot towards the unbalanced Kimblee's neck, and the other alchemist's eyes went wide again. He ducked, but the lowest point caught him in the left portion of his forehead and stabbed into him, sending him falling back onto his posterior.
More red coursed over Isaac's left wrist, and three more sharp-pointed constructs shot out in Kimblee's direction, aimed at his heart.
Then Isaac's own eyes went wide as red currents ran out from Kimblee's legs into the floor, and Isaac stopped his transmutation and leapt back, but the floor erupted below him in countless large chunks, and agony ripped up the Freezer Alchemist's legs and lower arms as the chunks impaled them. He crashed to the floor on his back and pushed himself into a sitting position, seeing the chunks had also shattered his constructs, and transmuted four more out of one of the wounds in his left knee, but more red coursed from Kimblee's legs into another circular clothes rack near him, and it detonated into shrapnel headed right for him. Isaac threw himself backwards to the floor, continuing his transmutation this time, but the Crimson Alchemist rolled to the side and the sharp-pointed constructs passed by Kimblee. The shrapnel sailed over the Freezer Alchemist, but he knew he was at a disadvantage wounded this badly.
"So this is the real reason you murdered those officers in Ishval," Isaac kept pain out of his voice as best he could. "It wasn't just for fun. No one else below those close to, and at, the top, knew you had another Stone, and you wanted to make your possession of it a secret. Further, that's why you weren't executed and why you're working for Bradley again. Bradley thought you might still be useful in the future. And you didn't use the Stone to escape your cell because you knew he might make use of you down the line and you preferred to wait for your possible official release rather than become a fugitive."
"All correct," Kimblee revealed with a smile. "It's good to know you're doing better than last time. That alone makes this battle worth it. Regretfully, you won't live long enough to continue to make use of that wisdom."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Isaac snarled angrily, but he couldn't keep frustration out of his voice. His Water Alchemy was more versatile than Kimblee's ability to make things explode, but Isaac was more badly wounded and the Crimson Alchemist had companions outside. He could heal his injuries with the Stone and alkahestry, but that would take up time he needed to use to defend himself or strike. He had a lesser chance than Kimblee of surviving this encounter and he knew it as well as Kimblee did. "My Water Alchemy defeated the Hero of Ishval when we fought in Central, and I didn't even have to use my Stone to do it. If I can beat him I can beat a lunatic like you."
Without warning, there came the sound of something detonating and then smoke spread throughout the chamber. Kimblee swore and rolled behind a square clothes rack seconds before bullets tore through the air where he'd been sitting, and then arms were picking Isaac up carefully from behind and to the sides and he looked to his side to see he was being held by soldiers garbed in the white of the Fort Briggs Mountain Patrol, their faces covered by white masks, their eyes by goggles, and their heads by hoods.
Red currents ran over the Freezer Alchemist's left knee, but a sharp hand collided with the back of his head and all was darkness.
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Roy didn't know how his body was reacting, or if it was reacting at all. He didn't know if he had a body.
He shouldn't have been able to know the sight before him was real, too, and a desperate part of him pleaded hysterically for his mind to wake up from this nightmare even infinity couldn't encompass.
"Long time no see. Do you still remember me?"
But he'd seen too much death in his life not to know when death was reality.
Riza was dead. His closest friend; the most breathtakingly devoted and loyal and protective and reliable person he'd met in his life; the woman who had chosen her career and dreams and goals and the path she would take through life based on what would best support him and sacrificed her personal desires to live that life for his sake; the woman he loved more than anything or anyone else in this world; the woman he would have proposed to years ago if their positions hadn't made having any relationship but friendship a potential problem; his closest confidante and most trusted companion and his most dependable source of support and the person he'd known he could count on the most to be there for him no matter what happened, even if it meant shooting him in the back to keep him from walking the wrong path, was dead.
"So, you've decided to take this path after all, even after what you went through in Ishval."
"Yes, sir."
But even knowing this was reality, it was still almost impossible to think of what had happened that way, or any way at all, and he wasn't sure he wasn't imagining he was having those thoughts, or any thoughts at all. Thoughts like these, all possible thoughts, couldn't define what had just happened. Nothing could define what had just happened, and nothing would be able to begin to the most infinitesimal amount for all eternity.
"Well. I must have sounded pretty childish, huh?"
"Not at all. I think a child has the best dreams."
Nothing could define Roy Mustang any longer, if there was a person named Roy Mustang and he wasn't imagining that as well. The enormity of what had just happened was so vast trying to take it in had shattered him into so many pieces no one would be able to count them even if that eternity was real and there was no limit to the time a person could spend counting them, never mind gather them up and put him back together. He had become something that was emptier than the void now.
And there would never be a reason for him to be put back together. His dreams of creating a descending pyramid of protection were just as much of a joke as his dreams of contributing something that would improve Amestris by becoming a State Alchemist had been. If he couldn't protect his closest subordinate, his belief tiny humans could protect those directly under them in a descending chain had been a drugged up hallucination.
"I'm a childish dreamer, not a tough, down-in-the-dirt soldier willing to do whatever it takes to lead his or her troops to victory. How did I inspire such loyalty?"
"It's because you're a dreamer, and not an amoral pragmatist."
There was no reason for him to be Roy Mustang anymore. His life had been a worthless lie since the day he'd been born. He could achieve nothing by existing on this planet.
So he lay there, if he wasn't imagining being in a fully lying position again, and didn't move, or think, or feel, or know what was going on, not knowing for sure he wasn't doing any of these things, not knowing for sure he'd be able to know he was or wasn't doing any of these things for the rest of his life, if he was alive.
"Do you think that world will be filled with happiness?"
"Why were we ordered here to do this? How did we manage to kill citizens when we should be the ones protecting them? I thought alchemy was meant to be used to protect people. Why is it being used to kill them instead?"
"Let's go. The war is over now."
"Outside of me, maybe. But the nightmare that led me to lose countless lives will never end. I'll carry it within as long as I live."
"That would be an abuse of power. I'd have to shoot you in the back."
"Can I trust you to help me think of an idea, too, Lieutenant?"
"You ought to extend me the same courtesies you extended your other subordinates today, sir. You know the answer to that."
"I am. I'm asking you because I don't want to take you for granted, and count on your support without asking if you're willing to give it to me first."
"If that's the case, yes, sir, you can."
Was he remembering the times he'd shared with Riza, or was he imagining them too? Was he imagining her standing next to him behind his desk as he rested in his chair, exhausted after a stressful meeting with a self-interested military officer, giving him silent support with her presence; her encouraging smile; her standing beside him with her gun at the ready so she was prepared to shoot at the slightest evidence he was in danger; her saluting him with exemplary military deference; her sitting in a chair as he talked about the latest secret code he'd developed and giving it as harsh criticism as she could to try to ensure he made it into the best code it could be; her standing before his desk and lecturing him about the importance of doing his paperwork and not leaving his subordinates to ensure it was finished with a mixture of patience and irritation, not showing any anger even though she'd lectured him, scolded him, or something else about not being lazy countless times before?
Roy didn't know. What he knew, if he wasn't imagining everything in existence, was he couldn't know, and couldn't be, any further, and had no reason to be, and never would again.
So he lay there, or imagined it, and did nothing but look at the blackened and ruined pieces of Riza's body as memories of Riza played in his mind as clearly as though they were reality and his existence rested in innumerable shards around him.
He might have been lying there for millennia, or for no more than a second, if he was lying there at all, when something so faint he wasn't sure he wasn't imagining it for an additional reason stirred inside him, and then he was aware he had a body again, and he was lying on a metal staircase, and he was shaking beyond extremely violently, and tears were running down his cheeks, and he was a person named Roy Mustang and wasn't imagining his memories and thoughts.
No. It wasn't true there was no longer any reason for him to be Roy Mustang. There was one thing he could accomplish, and he wouldn't be nothing until he'd achieved it.
And with that knowledge, a blinding, searing hatred so hot it should have melted him in an instant, a raging fire burning so fiercely it was like his body, mind, and soul were the living heart of a star, spread through him and consumed everything that made him up everywhere throughout him completely.
He pulled Riza's face to his and pressed his lips to hers, then put her ruined head down at his side and pushed himself to his feet.
He looked back at Fullmetal, who was on his knees with a pile of throw up in front of him, and Alphonse, who was kneeling beside his brother and shaking violently as he was, and Frank Archer and the other soldiers.
"Stay here," he ordered them. "I'll deal with Soyuz."
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Edward's head jerked up, a violent chill running up his spine, terror consuming him, all awareness this was his fault, Hawkeye was dead because he'd traveled here to try to regain his and Al's bodies and dragged her into their quest through his carelessness; of the horrific sight of Hawkeye's bleeding and charred corpse strewn over the staircase and Mustang; of the memories of the nightmarish thing that should have been his mother seeing the pieces of her body created; and all sickness, moving to the side.
No.
But once he saw Mustang's face, Ed knew beyond a doubt he was right.
Mustang's tear-streaked face no longer appeared human. His eyes looked as if he didn't know who Ed and Al and Archer and the soldiers were, and though his teeth weren't clenched and he didn't look more expressively angry or hateful, his visage made him appear to be a wild beast, tensed to pounce.
"Mustang," he breathed. "Don't do it."
Archer drew his gun and pointed it at the Colonel. "Do as the Fullmetal Alchemist says, Colonel," Archer said. "If you murder a subordinate officer and don't allow him or her to stand trial for his or her crimes, you'll be a criminal yourself, and I'll have no choice but to report you to Central. You'll be arrested and dishonorably discharged or executed. Don't be a fool."
"I don't care," the Colonel replied.
Fury consumed Ed. Fury at himself, fury at Soyuz, fury at the Colonel, fury at the Truth for attacking them with the most sadistic strike yet. After weeks of living in terror for Winry and Granny, the Lieutenant's death was far too much for his capacity to feel, even though it and the sight of her ravaged body parts had been seared as deeply into his mind as Mom's death and Nina's death had been. He hadn't lost the ability to experience emotion; he was just much more exhausted than it should have been possible for a person to be and too overloaded by sensation to fully experience feelings. But hearing Mustang say he was willing to throw away his entire life and follow his hate was far too much for Ed to take. He'd had enough of not letting his emotions rule him.
He rose to his feet.
"So you're giving up!?" he yelled at Mustang. "Is that it!? You're going to cast away all your responsibilities to Amestris and your fellow soldiers!? Even what you were ordered to do in Ishval wasn't enough to convince you to resign from the military and abandon your nation and your comrades, but you're willing to throw them aside for hatred!? I've known you're a lazy bastard who places duty and military conduct above human decency for years, but I didn't think you were slime like Scar! And I don't think you are now! The Mustang I know cares, and looks out for his fellows, and is willing to risk or give anything to provide for them!"
Now that Edward was thinking about this at the same time he was thinking about how much he loathed the Colonel, he was forced to acknowledge what he'd known for a long time but had never wanted to admit to himself. That was the real reason Ed disliked Mustang. Spending time with the Colonel was like looking in a mirror and seeing his flaws and weaknesses, and Edward loathed that.
But that his reasons for disliking Mustang were groundless weren't important now.
"You've watched out for your fellow soldiers and tried to take their share of the danger onto your shoulders the majority of the time we've been on missions together!" Ed went on. "You're not an apathetic murderer! You have a kind heart, and your hands save, not destroy!"
Mustang took a step forwards. "I'm not going to take the time to argue with you," he spoke back. "Soyuz will get away.
"But you're wrong about me. I don't protect anyone. I can't. I dreamed of rising to the top," Ed's eyes widened, "and creating a system of government that would enable everyone to use their limited skills to protect those around them, but it was a fairy tale. I couldn't protect the person who depended on me the most. I've lived my life in vain, so there's no reason not to discard its meaningless trappings.
"Now get out of my way. That's an order."
Mustang ran down the staircase.
Edward moved to block him, but then a shot rang out.
The Colonel fell to the stairs, blood pooling under his side.
Edward spun on Archer, who was walking up to Mustang, in sick horror and fury.
"Fϋhrer Bradley personally ordered me to incapacitate Colonel Mustang if he stepped out of line," Archer spoke. Mustang snapped his fingers and flames exploded over his injury, the Colonel attempting to cauterize it, but Archer knelt in front of the Colonel and removed his reactive glove, and the flames died. "I believe this qualifies."
He reached into a pocket of his uniform, took out handcuffs, and bound Mustang's hands behind his back. Ed wanted to move to stop Archer, but he knew he couldn't. If he did, Winry might be hurt or killed.
Archer got up, took a piece of paper out of another pocket, and unfolded it, revealing a letter with the Fϋhrer's seal. He showed it to the other soldiers. "I've also been ordered to assume command of any soldiers he's leading should I be required to incapacitate him during a mission. That means I'm now in charge of this operation. Everyone but Sergeants Grayson, Tillis, and Navair, return to the base of this tower and cordon it off. Grayson and Tillis, with me. Navair, administer first aid to Mustang, watch him and the Elrics, and report to me everything they discuss if they engage in conversation."
Archer ran up the stairs into the glass walled office, two soldiers at his side, one climbed up to Mustang, knelt at his side, and took out a first aid kit, and the other soldiers sprinted in the opposite direction.
The fury drained away, and Edward collapsed to his knees.
The sight of Hawkeye's ruined portions was in countless ways immeasurably more horrible than the sight of Mom's deformed dead body had been, since Hawkeye had been alive just minutes ago. But Ed was no longer even fully aware of her blackened remnants.
It had happened again. He'd gotten someone else killed, and this time, it had been someone who had called him friend for around four years. Someone who had trusted he wouldn't hurt her for much of that time as much as she'd trusted Mustang, Falman, Breda, Havoc, and Fuery wouldn't; someone who had devoted numerous hours of her time to trying to help Edward and Al realize their dreams; someone who had supported Ed and Al countless times over the years in anything they needed aid with; someone who had tried to make the Eastern Command Center something akin to a home for them.
Additionally, Ed had emotionally and mentally injured the Colonel so horrifically he'd tried to cast aside everything he'd lived for for years of his life for his hatred.
They'd actually succeeded at something again? How could Edward have been stupid enough to think that? How could Ed have been so incredibly idiotic he'd smiled?
And again, Edward had brought this about through an inability to accept the truth. An inability that was immeasurably worse than cowardice, for he'd been willingly living in denial of this truth for years fully aware he was doing it, and had thought it was the right choice. Hawkeye wasn't just dead and the Colonel hadn't just attempted to ruin himself because Edward hadn't listened to Mustang's and everyone else's criticism of his methods of problem solving and he'd forced Mustang and the Lieutenant to fix his mistakes. Hawkeye was dead and Mustang had tried to destroy himself because Ed was searching for a way to give Al back his body.
Ed thought about rubbing the top of Alphonse's head, but decided against it. He hadn't rubbed Al's head once since they'd left Dublith. He'd known it wouldn't help at all since they had no way of saving Winry and Granny themselves, so there hadn't been a point to doing it any longer. There was even less of a point now. Al had been pushed too beyond his emotional limits to be fully hit by Hawkeye's death and Mustang's recklessness himself, but Edward knew it had still wounded Al terribly, so Alphonse was now even further beyond any comfort.
From being touched, and from words. Edward wasn't even going to try to think of something to say. He knew there was nothing.
Al should have been an only child. Maybe if he had been, he'd have a flesh and blood body and be happy now.
Edward hung his head, unable to look at Mustang. "I'm sorry," Edward's voice cracked as he spoke to the Colonel. "This is all my fault. Hawkeye is dead because I was careless, and pulled her into mine and Al's problems. You were right about me all along, and I never believed you." Remembering the Colonel's words to him the night McDougal had warped everything caused Ed to remember there had been something unidentifiable in Mustang's expression when Alphonse had questioned if the Colonel would help them thwart High Command. Now Edward knew what it must have been. Mustang must have seen the Freezer's revelations as his opportunity to become Fϋhrer. "I know it's much too late now, and I don't blame you if you hate me, too, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Ed knew Mustang was aware of what had gone unsaid because of Navair's presence.
In the office, Archer talked into the phone of a radio, obviously tuned to a general line. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer from Central. I am now assuming command of Table City's military and military police. Your previous commanding officer, Major Peter Soyuz, murdered a lower ranking military officer and attempted to assassinate a superior officer, Colonel Roy Mustang. He is to be arrested on sight and shot if he resists. Should any soldier in this city fail to comply with these orders, he or she will be charged guilty of aiding and abetting a criminal guilty of murder and insubordination and arrested as well. Am I understood?"
Mustang's voice was empty when he replied, and Edward's stomach twisted violently. "Better late than never. Furthermore, I'm as much to blame as you are for the other matter. I'm the one who opened the door for you, and encouraged you to chase after its possibility."
"That doesn't make this any less our fault," Alphonse sounded at least as exhausted and emotionally handicapped as Ed was, and he was looking down, his shaking subsiding. "We're the ones who made the choice to pursue it."
Al turned his head to face Edward. "Brother," he spoke. "If pursuing that possibility means people are going to die and we're going to hurt people so badly they want to throw away their lives, I don't want it back."
Ed's insides twisted violently.
Could there be any room left to doubt Al hated him now?
But he felt no horror, much less horror that surmounted the word. How could he feel any of those things at how Al was thinking this way, when Edward extremely highly doubted he wanted to get their bodies back himself now?
He should have found it impossible to believe he was thinking this even after McDougal's and Greed's revelations. Extremely highly doubting he wanted to get their bodies back meant he extremely highly doubted he wanted Al to regain the ability to feel and sleep and cry, and he never could have believed he could think something so inexpressibly revolting. Furthermore, he'd promised Al he'd give him back his body, or at least help him regain it, and extremely highly doubting he wanted to get their bodies back meant he extremely highly doubted he wanted to fulfill that promise as well. And it meant he extremely highly doubted he wanted to fulfill his end of a promise they'd shared, for Alphonse had promised the same thing. It should have been impossible for Ed to think, never mind believe he was thinking it, and that he was thinking it should have doubled him over retching violently forever. But in light of that they'd murdered Hawkeye by searching for a way to regain their bodies and forcing her to wipe up the mess they'd made by doing so, he couldn't believe he couldn't be thinking this. Al was his brother, and not wanting Alphonse to be happy again and to fulfill the promise Ed had made and they'd shared was anathema to everything that composed the whole of Edward Elric, but Alphonse's happiness didn't outweigh someone else's life.
But Alphonse's happiness was still incomprehensibly important. Ed extremely highly doubted he wanted to get their bodies back now, but he couldn't be totally sure they should give up on their search.
He was certain he'd been wrong when he'd thought he'd learned the true meaning of responsibility and what people's lives genuinely were the night the Freezer had told them what shape Amestris was in, though. Even then he hadn't had the barest clue. He'd never thought their search for a way to get their bodies back could cost someone his or her life. He'd thought of their search as something that just involved them and couldn't truly affect anyone else or the rest of reality.
But he knew now he couldn't have been more wrong. Their quest could affect others, and the rest of the world, in among the worst ways possible. Further, now that he was aware it could, he could see how absolutely stupid he'd been when he'd been thinking differently. He'd seen them and their dreams as existing in a bubble, separate from the rest of reality, and because of that he also hadn't fully seen there was a reality around them with completely living, breathing people in it with the same ability for joy and suffering he and Al possessed. But that had been insane. They were part of the world around them, and there was a world around them. Because of that, their words and actions had an influence on what happened to the people in that reality, and to that reality itself, and as much of an influence as anyone else's.
He'd never been genuinely aware of that until now, though. He'd thought they could do as they pleased in their quest and hadn't feared it harming anyone but himself and Al.
He'd learned responsibility and what living people were? He might as well have never heard the words.
He was an abomination. He had no justification calling himself an alchemist. He wasn't even a baby. He was a fetus with a mind that hadn't fully developed.
They'd learned, yes. But if there had been any belief in his mind they might have things to be proud of, this proved he was right they didn't beyond all doubt. So what if they'd taken on burdens and accepted inhumanity most wouldn't? Their perceptions had been so twisted then they hadn't truly known what burdens and inhumanity were.
And now Edward didn't know if he could believe they'd learned to accept the truth even after they'd murdered Nina. Their determination to defy the flow of the One and the All had murdered Hawkeye as their fear of the truth McDougal had shown them had murdered Nina. So was there any difference at all between their fear of McDougal's revelations and their quest to get their bodies back?
Maybe all they'd learned was to let others share their burdens.
But Ed was too exhausted and overloaded to truly hate himself further, or to be revolted or feel guilty or anything else completely. Hawkeye was dead, and he had murdered her. Because he had, Mustang had tried to wreck his life. Edward couldn't take it anymore.
Even though he knew he had to more than at any time before, because he'd learned more of what responsibility meant now.
But did he even know what the lives of others and responsibility were now? Or would he murder someone else?
Would he murder Teacher because she had to wipe up one of his messes, or just because he'd gotten her involved in the struggle to launch a coup?
Because, Edward now knew in ways he hadn't before, Teacher might die as a result of their treason. Until today, Ed hadn't fully been aware Al or his other companions who aided him in dangerous endeavors could die. Intellectually, he'd known it was possible, but it hadn't fully felt real, or anything that would happen to anyone he knew, even after Nina had been murdered and Winry and Granny had been arrested. But now that the sight of Hawkeye's mutilated, burnt corpse had been seared into the uttermost depths of his brain, the possibility Teacher or Sig would be killed during their fight was all too immediate.
If she died because she was battling the government and the Homunculi that, as well, would be Ed's responsibility. He was the reason she was a part of this, and it was far too late to convince her to back out now.
Why was he still so determined not to kill people? He was now a killer three times over. He'd murdered Mom, and Nina, and now Hawkeye. Was there truly that much of a difference between unintentional murder and intentional murder when he could be so careless and irresponsible he killed others without meaning to three times and didn't learn from the two previous deaths?
But there was. No matter how irresponsible he was or how horrific the cost of his mistakes was, that still didn't justify being willing to kill another person.
You don't believe that. If you did, you'd be wholly certain you should give up your quest for your bodies.
That wasn't true. He wasn't fully certain he should give up their quest for their bodies because that would condemn Al to the torment he was living for the rest of his life. To continue to pursue the possibility they could get their bodies back might murder more people and reduce the lives of other people they didn't murder to rubble, but the alternative was wrong as well. Additionally, Ed didn't know if he was truly aware what responsibility was to any extent now. He wasn't certain he should give up their quest because he didn't know what the right, responsible choice was, or even if there was one, not because he didn't believe murder was wrong.
Al looked away from him, clearly believing his older brother wasn't going to say anything back, but Ed chose to speak. It wouldn't help, but there was no point not telling Alphonse Ed understood.
"I understand," he said.
Alphonse didn't talk back, and Edward sighed and looked down at the staircase.
What should they do? Should they condemn themselves, should he condemn Al, or should they continue to seek a means of getting their bodies back, even knowing the risks?
Ed had utterly no idea.
Should they attempt to convince Teacher to back out of this, as futile as it–
No. Edward at least knew the answer to that, not that it mattered. That was partially new terror, and worse, for Al and Teacher and Sig and the other people he knew who were his companions in dangerous efforts. Hawkeye's death proved even people as capable as her or Teacher couldn't live through anything, but they could still take care of themselves. Teacher wouldn't be in any greater danger now because Hawkeye had died than she'd been in before Hawkeye's death. Furthermore, if he thought like that he'd be so terrified, or worse, for Al he'd lose sight of how well Al could keep himself alive, and that would be a betrayal of Al. Edward couldn't act on those feelings, and he had to bear them as he was bearing his terror, and worse, for Winry and Granny.
Al must have seen something in Ed's expression when he'd been thinking about the risks Teacher was talking, for he gave Edward a look Ed knew meant Al wanted his older brother to know he felt similarly. Al was able to deal with Hawkeye's death well enough to know that much; he had to bear this new terror, and worse. Thank goodness.
Edward nodded slightly back to acknowledge he understood the look, but he said nothing. Even if talking about Teacher and Sig wouldn't have exposed them, there was no point in countless ways. Ed just sat there silently.
After an unknown amount of time passed, Archer spoke, "Well done," into the radio phone. He exited the office and descended the stairwell. "Table City soldiers arrested Soyuz. I'll send someone to purchase a casket for us to take Lieutenant Hawkeye's body parts home in, and then we're done at this tower."
Edward got to his feet, ignoring how heavy his flesh limbs felt. He wanted to question what was going to happen to Mustang now, but he knew Archer didn't know the answer to that. "Then we're almost done in Milos too," he told Archer. "Al and I achieved what we needed to do here. All that's left is for us to say farewell to someone in the valley," Archer's eyebrow rose, "And we'll be ready to leave." He glared at Archer, challenging him to order them not to. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Is the person you want to say goodbye to Julia Crichton?" Archer asked.
"Yes," Al put in, standing up. "Could you please let us see her one more time? She's in Cretan territory. We don't have the authority to turn her over to Creta there."
"I know," Archer answered. "Go ahead, then. Creta can't make too big of a deal about you crossing the border when their own people were recently guilty of the same crime. Further, we cannot hand Miss Crichton to them, so there's nothing we can do to defuse the international incident other than continue to tell Creta she descended to the valley floor.
"But be discreet."
Ed suppressed the urge to look at Hawkeye's separated corpse, or at the Colonel.
"I know," Edward spoke. "Trust me. No one is going to need to tell me to do that again."
.
The Milosian led them into a large cavern on the near side of the underground water source with a tapestry hanging in front of the back wall showing a golden bird at the center of a design of purple, light blue, and red in the center of the tapestry, and a circular wooden table a distance into the cavern in front of the flag.
Julia was sitting at the top of two stone steps descending to a lower portion of the cavern to the right of the table relative to the direction Al was facing, wearing the same garments he'd seen her in the day they'd arrived here, the sole difference being a primarily purple and gold bracelet on her right wrist, and Miranda was standing to the left of the table. No one else was in the cavern.
Julia smiled a false smile worriedly when she saw them, and Alphonse's heart ached at how much worry was on her face, terror at what their return probably meant in her eyes, and all the emotions she was trying to keep from her expression. Miranda's face became a mask.
Julia got to her feet and walked quickly over to them, but then an amount of the worry and terror and the other things she was feeling vanished and her expression became concerned. "What's wrong, Ed?"
Even this exhausted and sick and emotionally handicapped, Alphonse wished he could smile a genuine smile. Julia wasn't just exceptional, she was wonderful. The day before yesterday, she'd discovered her brother had been murdered; the salvation she'd believed in were the results of, or brought about, unimaginable abominations; and the humanity and the reality she knew were illusions in countless ways, most of them too horrible to describe. In addition, she believed their presence here probably meant that salvation she still desired had been denied her, and for all she knew she and the people she was devoted to would continue to go through each day living in terror they would die before it ended, and of the stronger countries whose oppression and conflicts they were imprisoned between, for years. Yet in spite of all this, the first things she'd spoken to them were words of concern.
Al had never known anyone that considerate.
Where had he gone wrong? How had he become so abhorrent he was capable of wounding someone like Julia how they were going to hurt her when Brother revealed they'd all but completely eradicated the Milosians' chances of obtaining the Star?
"It's nothing that involves you," Brother replied. Al knew his brother hadn't forgotten Granny's words, but they probably weren't going to be seeing Julia again for a long time after today. Al was determined to return here and see her again when he had the chance, and Alphonse knew his brother was aware of this and knew they would see Julia again in the future, but Brother knew that would probably be a long time from now. Sharing their burdens with Julia would cause more harm than it prevented when she wasn't going to be with them to aid them.
"That's not true," Julia responded. "You two are my friends. I know this may be the last time I'll see you, but so long as you're in Milos, whatever hurts you involves me. If you don't want to tell me, I'm all right with that, but you don't need to feel you shouldn't tell me because you think I'm not part of it."
"There's still no reason for you to worry about it," Brother spoke.
"I'll worry more if I don't know what's bothering you," Julia said back.
Brother sighed. Then they had to tell her. "We never got into why we came to Milos," his brother spoke. "We came here on a self-serving journey to research the alchemy Atlas was practicing because we believed it might give us a method of getting back the bodies we lost when we attempted human transmutation. We've been looking for a way to regain our bodies for years. Two friends of ours," Al was too exhausted to feel anything about his brother referring to the Colonel as a friend, "followed us here because I was careless when we arrived, and because of that, and because we're on this quest, one of them was murdered." Julia's eyes widened. "And the other gave up and tried to cast away his life to avenge her out of hatred, and has been arrested." Brother didn't add the friend who had given up might have been able to improve the lives of the Milosians if he hadn't. This wasn't the time for that. She deserved to know, but they'd have to tell her about it another time.
"So now you believe you shouldn't fulfill your dreams yourself," Julia had an understanding expression, "Don't you?"
"Yes," Alphonse replied. He didn't know whether he should be able to believe he was thinking this way, and he felt so guilty transcending language he was capable of wanting Brother to keep his automail arm and leg, and of wanting to break his promise to Brother, and Al's end of a promise they'd shared, he wished in a way the term couldn't encompass he didn't have any senses in his armor body, but his course was clear. He'd never be able to accept this Truth, that Brother needed to live incomplete and deformed for the rest of his life, but he had to take this path anyway. "I don't want my body back now.
"But it's not as bad as it sounds. Brother and I have been through a lot since we learned what's happening in Amestris. We were already hurting so greatly when our friend died we can't feel as lousy as we might have about what we caused," even though Al needed to say this for Julia's sake, it still felt like one of the worst possible betrayals of the Lieutenant to talk about how they were taking Hawkeye's murder that way, "Or having to give up our dreams, at present."
"But that won't last," Julia spoke. "I'm so sorry. You two are very noble." Al suppressed the urge to cringe. "Maybe it's impossible to regain things lost to the other side, but you could have touched the Amestrian nationwide Star with ease at any time and tried. Yet you didn't. I agree there are things worth giving one's life for, but I still recognize how noble it is to feel differently. No one deserves to suffer, but it's so sad to see people like you feel you need to throw out your dreams."
"To be honest," Alphonse replied, "We weren't fully sure using the Stone to get our bodies back was wrong." Julia's eyes widened, and Alphonse experienced relief. At least he didn't have to worry about whether he could use the Philosopher's Stone to return Brother his body any longer. Now that he wasn't going to get their bodies back, that burden was moot. "We feel it's wrong to sacrifice others for our own happiness, but the souls in the Stone may be beyond salvation, if they're even still alive. We can't be sure it's wrong to use people when they're already doomed no matter what we do.
"But we're convinced it might be wrong enough we don't want to see the Stone used now, and we don't have any doubts transmuting a new one is amoral." He didn't want to be the one to tell her, but it was best she hear it from him. From what she'd said before they'd parted, she felt a stronger connection to him than to Brother.
"That's why we unraveled the secret of the holy land, and made it mostly certain you won't be able to transmute a Philosopher's Stone or find the one that may be hidden here." How could he have been such a revolting idiot he'd thought of that as a success?
He wished he could tell Julia about the portion of the map on her body, but this was a very bad time for that. She deserved to know this, too, but as with what the Colonel might have been able to do for the Milosians, they'd have to tell her another time.
Countless emotions passed over Julia's face and through her eyes, but then she looked down at the bracelet and her expression firmed. Miranda's face stayed a mask. "I thought as much," Julia spoke. "In that case, I'm coming with you when you return to Amestris proper."
Shock detonated through Al.
Miranda said nothing. Julia must have already discussed this with her.
His brother's face showed shock of his own, but then much of it vanished. "That's not an option," Brother replied. "Soldiers other than our two friends followed us here, and one of them outranks me. That officer will never give you permission to set foot in Amestris, and if you do, he'll arrest you and turn you over to Creta. I don't know why, but Creta requested Amestris give you to them when you were arrested before." Julia's eyes widened. "Additionally, even if we could take you into Amestris, you must know we wouldn't. We didn't go to all the trouble of preventing you from using a Milosian Stone to help you get your hands on one of our Stones."
"Al can smuggle me across in his armor," Julia responded, and Al started. He'd never thought of the concept of someone riding inside him before. The concept was disturbing, but Alphonse knew he needed to adjust to it. Carrying people in his armor could be useful in the future. "Furthermore, I'm fully aware you're not going to help me get ahold of one of your Stars. I don't want you to. All I want you to do is to let me help you fight the Homunculi and your government, because that's the easiest way for me to get within the vicinity of a Star. When I come across a Star in the process of aiding you, I'll acquire it myself.
"I'm also aware you're not even willing to do that. However, if you don't, I'll try to cross the border myself," Al had known that was coming when she'd spoken she knew they weren't going to help her attain a Star, but hearing it still caused him to feel even sicker. Brother glared at Julia furiously, "And search out a Star on my own, regardless of the risks. Do you want me to do that, when I'll be safer crossing the border and looking for a Star with you, and when you'll have a better chance of keeping me from obtaining a Star if you're with me because you'll be able to keep an eye on me and try to restrict my actions? I know I'm blackmailing you two, and I'm sorry I'm saying this, but I have no choice. I have to get my hands on a Star. There's no other way for me to protect my people. And traveling with you two is now my best chance of doing so."
To Al's complete disgust, there was a part of him that wanted to acquiesce. If Julia came with them, he wouldn't have to wait for what would probably be a long time to continue to spend time with her and learn more about her, and he wanted to wait even less now after what the first thing Julia had spoken after they'd come into this cavern before saying anything else had been. He'd never met anyone like Julia, and he didn't want to be without the company of someone like her.
But he violently shoved that part of him away. He wasn't appalled he could think and feel like that shouldn't have been, since he was capable of not wanting Brother to get his body back and he was as selfish and apathetic as Tucker and the one called Father. But that didn't make thinking and feeling that way any less wrong. If Julia came with them, she wouldn't just be a danger to herself. She'd be leaving behind the people who cared for her and supported her through her torture at a time when that was one of the last things she could afford to do.
"Don't do it, Julia," Al urged her. "Not because you shouldn't resort to blackmail. Not even because you shouldn't use the Star. Because you'll be bringing horrific torment upon yourself. After two days ago, you need Miranda and your other friends. You told us that yourself. You've endured everything you've been through because you've had them, and that's why you can make it through finding out your brother was murdered and the rest. If you leave them behind now, you'll be giving up the reasons you can make it. You'll put yourself through a much worse nightmare. Please, don't do that to yourself."
Countless emotions passed over Julia's face, but then it showed the determination he'd seen before.
As well as something else, something Al couldn't identify.
"It doesn't matter what happens to me," Julia said. "My life belongs to the people of Milos. My suffering is unimportant. I'd do this even if leaving Miranda and the others meant I'd emotionally injure myself so badly it would destroy my mind. Just as there are things worth dying for, there are things worth going through any amount of pain for. The power of the Star is worth any pain as well as death. If I don't have that strength, my people will continue to live in poverty, and continue to die. I want to stay here, and receive the love my friends and people are offering, but I can't. Everyone here is depending on me to acquire the strength to deliver them. If that means exposing myself much further to my grief and the reality you two showed me, so be it. I'm not staying here. One way or another, I'm retrieving one of Amestris' Stars."
Brother ground his teeth, and Al shook. If that was how Julia felt, arguing further would be as pointless now as it had been when they'd tried to convince the Milosians not to use the Stone. Arguing had been pointless from the beginning.
Their search for their bodies had done more than murder Hawkeye and cause Mustang to give up. It had yanked a wonderful girl who should have known nothing but happiness in her life away from the people she needed to be cared for by at a time she needed it most.
No.
Please, no.
Furthermore, it might have done worse than pull her away from the people she needed at a time she needed it. If she came with them she might be ki–
No. He couldn't think like that. He knew where that path would take him. He'd lose faith in Brother's ability to stand on his legs. No matter what happened, Al could never let himself fall that far.
"Then hurry up and pack up," Brother snarled. "And say your goodbyes. But don't fool yourself into believing you're going to be able to outwit us and return here with a Stone. We're not stupid. Have the decency to do us a favor to make up for blackmailing us and accept you're throwing yourself into madness in vain."
"You know I won't do that," Julia met his eyes. "Or you'd have said that as an argument to attempt to convince me to stay in Milos.
"I've already bid farewell to everyone, and I have everything I need. I've been preparing for this possibility since yesterday, when an automail engineer gave me a bracelet a little girl named Karina made for me with Tia, a teenager who died from wounds she took while looking through the garbage. That taught me to stop second-guessing about the Star."
Alphonse wanted to say it should have taught her something different, but he knew it wouldn't reach Julia. He was done with not knowing what to say, but he knew this time there was truly nothing that could be said.
He wasn't going to ask how they could have been so foolish as to listen to Mustang's encouragement and set out to regain their bodies. He knew the answer to that. They'd still been too cowardly to accept the Truth then. But how could they not have seen their journey as a severe danger to others after they'd murdered Nina!? They'd known then they were still craven infants who rejected reality because it wasn't the happy crayon doodle born of their imaginations. And they'd known for years they weren't accepting the Truth by wanting to regain the bodies they'd used to have. So why hadn't they realized their quest was wrong then? How could they have done this to Hawkeye, Mustang, and Julia?
Teacher had been wrong. Even then they hadn't learned to accept the Truth.
And now he had no guarantees they'd learned to accept the Truth this time. The two times they'd thought they had in the past they'd been wrong, so there was no way he could believe they'd learned this time any more than they had the other times.
Mom must regret she'd given birth to Alphonse.
Whether they'd learned to accept the Truth this time or not, though, that didn't change he still needed to accept it. And his inability to know how they couldn't have seen they were endangering others after they'd murdered Nina didn't change they had to take Julia with them, or she might get killed or imprisoned in Creta when she tried to sneak into Amestris herself. So thinking about this now was meaningless, and he shouldn't be thinking about it.
He should be saying and doing what he could to try to make the path Julia had chosen less agonizing to walk.
He forced himself to stop shaking.
"You won't be alone," Al told Julia. "I'll be there for you every step of the way while you're with us. I know I can never replace Miranda, or any of the other Milosians, and I'm not going to try to, but I'll be whatever I can be to you if you want me to. You won't have to confront your grief and this reality by yourself once we leave Milos. I'll be at your side, and if you want me to, I'll carry as much of your pain for you as you need me to carry, no matter how much it is."
Julia forced another fake smile. "Thank you. But I don't want you to do any of that. Not when you and Ed are carrying around your own pain. I need to become stronger. I'll find a way to get by."
Why had he even wanted his body back? He hadn't been deformed in body until he'd tried human transmutation, but he'd been deformed in soul from the instant he'd been conceived.
"You're welcome," Al spoke. "Then I won't say or do anything. But I'll still be there for you to talk to or seek anything else from if you decide to. I can't turn away from someone else's suffering because I'm suffering. I'm the one whose suffering is irrelevant when compared to someone else's. I brought most of it on myself. So my suffering means nothing compared to someone else's. It wouldn't even if I hadn't caused so much of it; there's no point to being able to carry torture if all the torture you carry is your own. I don't care how much heavier my burdens become if I carry your pain in addition to mine. So could you please leave yourself open to the possibility of letting me support you?
"If you won't do it for yourself, could you please do it for me? I don't want to witness you hurting alone."
Julia was silent for a few seconds. Then she responded, "I'll open myself to the possibility."
Thank goodness.
Julia looked at Miranda, who gave her an encouraging smile, and Brother turned a furious face on Miranda. Emotion vanished from Miranda's face.
"You tried to deny us our future," Miranda said. "Be thankful all we're doing is blackmailing you when we could be shooting you."
His brother ground his teeth.
Al didn't want Julia to come with them, but since she was, he wanted to leave quickly himself. The longer this went on, the worse it would make things for Brother.
"Since you're ready," Alphonse addressed Julia exhaustedly, "So are we."
.
Julia sat across from Ed, sleeping on his back, and the sitting up Al in the empty train car as it traveled under the night sky in the direction of Central, the capital of Amestris.
The Amestrian Lieutenant Colonel who had assumed command of Ed, Frank Archer, had been willing to give Ed and Al a train car to themselves, so Julia had been able to climb out of Al and sit down on something comfortable.
She still couldn't believe she was doing this.
She'd thought she was done second-guessing, but now that she had left Milos behind and was far deeper in the territory of an enemy country than she'd traveled before in her life with no one she could trust nearby save two friends she'd made two days ago, she had become so uncertain she wasn't able to keep herself from doubting she was doing the right thing by seeking something made of living humans again.
But that wasn't why she couldn't believe she was doing this. She was doubting the path she'd chosen, but she could believe she was walking it. The people of Milos were her life. All her being existed for them; they needed the Star, and she knew generally where to find one, so it was easy to believe she was on a journey to retrieve one for them.
What she couldn't believe was she'd left Milos behind.
With the exception of a small minority who had despised or hated her because of who her parents had been, the people of Milos had raised her for over four years as if she was no different than anyone else born in Milos, given her food and drink and a cave to sleep in without asking her to pay them any money for any of it, sent instructors to give her private lessons for free to make it easier for her to understand the curriculum of the schoolhouse they'd let her attend, let her work to earn what money they had to provide at any job she was interested in and paid her the same wages anyone else in her position deserved despite who she was, and the Milosians who weren't alchemists had even encouraged her in her endeavors to steal alchemy tomes from Creta and Amestris when she climbed the cliffs and learn alchemy from other Milosian alchemists she had befriended. She loved all the people of Milos with all her heart, even the ones who didn't like her, and until two days ago, they and the land of Milos had been her entire reality with the exception of Ashleigh, who she'd been aware might be dead but she knew might still be alive and out there somewhere. Now that she knew he was dead, they were her whole reality.
Yet now she was going to be living without them for an indefinite amount of time, perhaps months. It was for their sake, but she still couldn't believe the next time she woke up it wasn't going to be within easy reach of one or more of them.
It was far easier to believe than most of the rest of the things she had to believe now, though.
Alchemists could transmute artificial humans and those artificial humans could be transmuted immortal bodies. The planet was God and a nervous system. An artificial human had created a single mammoth Star and it rested below the ground this train was driving over. An artificial human could fashion a soul body on the scale of Amestris. Amestris had been founded and expanded to transmute a special Star.
Everyone in Xerxes had been taken into a special Star, and she was inside an almost complete or complete transmutation circle the size of Amestris that was being dug or had been dug to transmute the countless millions within it into pieces of an even more special Star.
Even now, three nights later, she had to fight to process any of it, never mind believe it. That a plot had extended over three hundred fifty years and encompassed an area as massive as Amestris wasn't even within the realms of insanity, and nor were how transmutations could affect such a colossal area. She knew what the All was, but it was incomprehensible it could have manifested as a single thing.
And while she knew better than most how deep sentient life could sink into depravity, the genocide of Xerxes and the attempted genocide of Amestris were depths of inhumanity even she couldn't have conceived anyone was remotely capable of.
The reality she'd known throughout her life had been an insubstantial shadow. Her mind couldn't even slightly comprehend it, even though she knew it to be true, and all the emotion it could evoke from her was terror all her people would be wiped out before the end of next year's Spring.
She wished her mind was having as much trouble believing that, and feeling anything about how, Ashleigh was dead.
But that, as desperately as she wished it couldn't, her mind could believe, though it still couldn't fully process it. Additionally, that was eliciting emotion. It hurt so much she extremely highly doubted she'd be able to move if her people didn't need her. As things were, she'd cried on and off so much before setting out with the Elric brothers she'd been surprised her body was physically capable of shedding that many tears.
As she'd known it would, it hurt incomparably worse now that there was a gaping void where her friends and everyone else from Milos should have been, but she was keeping her tears back, not wanting to worry Al any more than he was already worried.
Al.
She barely knew him, but what little she knew about him already made him a new ray of light in a reality that had become so dark she needed rays in it so desperately it was almost a physical thing.
She knew people could be very kind, as well as very cruel. The Milosians hated the people of Amestris and Creta, but because they shared the same suffering, they were usually very supportive of each other and helpful towards those in more need than the average kinsman or kinswoman. Even the Milosians who hated her were usually very considerate of those of their people who didn't study alchemy, and willing to give whatever someone needed if he or she was experiencing unusual hardship, be it physical, mental, or emotional. Further, a Milosian soldier who wouldn't trade his or her life to save any of his or her fellows was a rarity.
But she and her people were companions in the same adversity, and they all knew each other. Al wasn't a partner in that adversity, and he'd never met her until two days ago. Yet he'd been willing to sacrifice his life to try to save her from a fatal fall when she hadn't shared his hardships, and when she'd been a total stranger to him.
That had been incredible in and of itself, and since then Al had proven himself even more amazing. He'd repeatedly been as supportive of and kind towards her as Miranda and her other closest friends when they hadn't known each other for a day, he had drastic doubts about the morality of using the Star even though its souls might be condemned beyond all deliverance, and he'd repaid her for blackmailing him and exploiting his and his brother's compassion by offering her much more support than he had at any time before then.
He was a marvel, with a sensitivity for others' pain she'd never encountered in her life when she'd thought she'd known everything there was to know about how sensitive humans could be of each others' struggles.
What Ed and Al had told her about reality and thinking life hadn't destroyed her ability to believe in people and the world, but if there had been any possibility she would have doubted in them, Al had erased it.
And what had she done to repay him? She'd exploited his generosity of spirit and threatened him into taking her with him.
She'd had no choice, but she was so revolted with herself she didn't want to eat.
Part of Julia, the part of her that didn't want to make new friends when a new baby was born because so many of her friends died, told her that she should befriend Al far less than she should have made a new friend any time before, that she could afford to experience the pain of losing another friend even less now that she knew Brother was dead. But she'd never let fear of her friends dying stop her from befriending new people before, and she wasn't about to start now. Especially not with someone like Al.
Ed cried out wordlessly and tossed, and Julia looked at him in concern.
"He's having a nightmare," Al whispered. "He's been having them for weeks, since we found out about the nationwide transmutation circle. I've tried to stop them by waking him up, but it didn't work. His nightmares are so frequent if I woke him up every time he had one, he'd get little or no sleep. There was one thing that helped, something I can't talk about without betraying his confidence, but that's not an option now."
"I see," Julia responded in a whisper of her own. She knew it wasn't her place to offer this, even more so after she'd exploited and blackmailed him, but she couldn't just sit back and let Ed suffer like this without making the offer. "If there's anything I can do for him, I will."
"I wouldn't try," Al advised her. "You might make things worse. As I'm certain you're aware, you're not his favorite person in the world right now."
Julia had thought he was going to say something like that, and looked away.
"I'm not angry with you myself," Al spoke. "I understand why you said those things. I don't approve, but I don't fault you for it. So if you're worried about that, could you please not be?"
Even though Al had repaid her exploitation and threats with kindness, she had been worried about that, and hearing Al wasn't angry with her and didn't fault her caused a tiny amount of the weight on her shoulders to vanish. She looked at him and forced a smile.
"Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome," Al replied.
"What about you?" she questioned. "How are you doing?"
"The overload is lessening," Al answered, and Julia's stomach twisted. "But it still doesn't hurt as much as it might have. What we've been through has been emotionally draining. I doubt we have the reserves of emotion left to hurt as much about what we caused in Milos as we have about other things. It's more painful now, but it could be a lot worse. It's also helping I'm even more exhausted now that the overload is ending."
Julia didn't know if that made things better or worse.
She wanted to ask what these 'other things' were, but she'd asked about the Elric brothers' pain enough earlier today. Questioning further would be prying.
Ed cried out again.
Al looked down at Ed, and Julia's heart went out to him. She'd seen how well the Elric brothers worked together when they'd saved her from the Chimera, like they knew each others' thoughts and were as aware of what each other was going to do as well as they knew their own thoughts and what their own actions would be. Furthermore, she'd heard how much terror had been in Al's voice when Ed had almost died at Atlas' hands. It was obvious Ed and Al connected on a level few siblings were able to reach each other on, and loved each other more than anyone or anything else anywhere. Al must be torment itself, unable to do anything to take away his brother's nightmares.
She admired how strong Al was, and how well he was bearing up under his helplessness, too. She knew if she'd been in his position it would be clear to everyone around her she was an emotional wreck. If there was one thing she couldn't take, it was being powerless.
But it also hurt to see their love for each other so horribly words couldn't encompass it, and not because of the anguish Al was doubtlessly in. It hurt because it reminded her of the relationship she'd had with Ashleigh years ago, and reminded her they'd never be able to live for each other or share their lives with each other that way again.
She found tears in her eyes, and her right hand holding the earring she wore on her left ear Ashleigh had given her.
"There's no reason for you to stay up," Al spoke. "I can hide you inside me myself if someone comes into this car. If you want to sleep so you don't see us, I won't mind."
Julia didn't want to leave Al by himself when he was helpless and tortured, or to be the only one carrying the burden of the watch, but she knew he'd feel worse if he saw her agonized from looking at him and Ed. So she rubbed away her tears and nodded. "Okay. Thanks."
"You're welcome," Al responded.
"Are you going to wake me up when it's my turn to be the lookout," she asked, "Or am I going to have to accept you're going to stay up the entire night for Ed's and my sake?"
"It's out of my hands," Al spoke back. "This armor body can't sleep."
Julia's eyes widened. That was terrible. "Are you sure you're willing to live that way for the rest of your life? Unable to rest from the cares of the world or to know the solace of pleasant dreams?"
"I don't want to," Al replied. "I loathe being awake the whole night. In numberless ways, it hurts more being all by myself for all those hours in the darkness than it does being unable to feel or taste.
"But I'm going to have to get used to it now. I can't have my body back. If I continue to try to reacquire it, I'll drag more people into danger."
Julia wanted to say something, but there was nothing she could think of to say. Ed and Al shouldn't give up on their dreams, but they had murdered someone and ruined someone else's life by trying to restore their bodies. Because of that, she didn't know if she could disagree with Al about how he should give up on regaining his body. Additionally, even if she could, when Ed and Al were as unsure as they were there was nothing wrong with using souls who might be dead or lost past salvation to try to restore their bodies, she didn't have the slightest idea how to convince them they shouldn't give up on their dreams when they'd destroyed two people who hadn't been beyond deliverance.
Those things just made it more agonizing, though. They meant it was very likely she was helpless to do anything but look on at their shattered dreams, when Ed and Al deserved to be able to fulfill their dreams every amount as much as her people did, as anyone else alive did. They meant it was very likely she was powerless to do anything but witness two exceptional people, one of them one of the most amazing people she'd met in her life, throw away what they'd struggled for for multiple years. She knew what it was like now to believe your fighting had been all for nothing, and it was unimaginably horrific to witness Ed and Al not just experience that, but choose to give up on what they lived for too because they believed their struggling had been in vain.
That it was very likely she was helpless to keep their dreams from being reduced to rubble was far too much for her. It would have been far too much even before she'd learned Ashleigh had died and she'd been unable to do the most infinitesimal thing to prevent it. Because Ashleigh was dead, she hated it on a level and in a way she'd never known she could hate something until Atlas had revealed he'd murdered Ashleigh and she'd experienced that hate for him.
But what could she say or do? Try to give them their bodies back against their will once she had the Star? That would be disregarding their choices. She could never do that.
She had to say or do something, however. It wasn't right this had happened to Ed and Al, and she couldn't take being powerless.
She clenched her hands into fists. How could this be happening? She had a better idea where to find a Crimson Star now than she'd had for years and was on her way to acquiring one, and that did cause her to feel stronger. But at the same time she felt immeasurably more powerless than she had at any time in her life before.
.
"Because I am powerless to help."-Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca
FINAL FANTASY XII