Edward stared at Truth, trying not to show how nervous he was. The thought had just come to him—if it worked, Alphonse would be back. If not…Ed didn't know how to save his brother.
He cleared his throat gently, then said simply, "I want my brother back."
Truth grinned widely at him. "Oh? And what do you have to offer?"
Edward closed his eyes; if he had been religious, he would have been praying. "My memories."
The being before him seemed delighted. "Oh! You're a smart one, aren't you? Yes, I can give you Alphonse Elric in return for your memories. But are you sure they're something you're willing to give up?"
Yes. Ed was sure. He had to have Al back and healthy, no matter the cost. An image of Roy flashed though his mind and he inhaled sharply, trying to bite back the sting of pain. He should have known better than to get involved with the man when Alphonse had always been his main priority. It was Edward's fault that his brother's body had been lost, and now he had to fix it. Even if that meant losing Roy.
Ed took a deep breath and said a quick goodbye in his mind. He gazed at Truth, determined. "I'm sure."
Black hands were suddenly all around him, caressing Edward's face to get at the memories within. He saw a glimpse of Al—not smiling, as he would expect, but crying out—and then everything went black.
"Where is he!?" Roy shouted, frantic as he scrambled around blindly. "Where's Ed? What's he done?"
The silence behind him was not reassuring, as Hawkeye guided him silently towards the sound of Alphonse wailing, "Brother! It's me, Brother!"
Roy heard Edward's voice, but it wasn't his voice; something in it was wrong, too…innocent. "Huh?"
He dropped to the ground, surprised by how close the boy sound, and reached out, clumsy without his sight, grasping the edge of Ed's sleeve. He pulled himself closer. "Ed!" Roy gasped, relieved to find that he was still there, and presumably in one piece.
"Who are you people?"
The response was like a burn, a sharp spike of pain and confusion before a steadier, slightly duller torture. "Ed?" Roy whispered, trying not to panic. "It's me, it's Roy. You know…"
The voice of the blonde now wrapped in his blind arms was confused. "What are you talking about? And why the hell are you clinging on me like that? I don't know any Roy, or Alphonse…"
Roy's breath stopped. Edward wasn't kidding; even now, the boy was breaking free of his hold. "What happened?" he rasped. "Why don't you know who I am?"
It was Alphonse who answered, his voice oddly clear. "I—I think Brother gave up his memories. I saw him, with Truth. He was trying to get my body back, and the trade he made was for memories…"
Already kneeling on the ground, Roy allowed himself to sag forward until his fists pushed into the newly exposed dirt. "So…he doesn't know who I am? He doesn't remember—anything!?"
"No," Al whispered. No wonder he sounded less muffled; he was in a body again. "He doesn't remember anyone, Roy. Not even me. I don't even know if he knows who he is."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Edward snapped. "Of course I know who I am, you people are crazy! I'm Edward, Edward…" The silence raged on.
"You don't know your last name, do you?" Roy asked in a monotone.
"No…" the boy answered eventually, sounding concerned. "No, I—I feel like I know it, but I can't seem to get it…"
Al tried a different tactic, speaking directly to Ed. "I'm Alphonse. You've lost your memory, you know that now, right? But I'm your brother."
Roy could almost see Edward shaking his head, moving like the blonde and sounding like him too, but was he really Ed if he didn't remember anything? He pulled a hand up, clutching at his chest. He'd heard of heartbreak, but this—his heart actually ached, throbbing, his whole torso consumed with pain.
"I think I would remember my own brother," Edward muttered doubtfully.
"What about your lover?" Roy rasped.
"I have a lover!?" Ed gasped. Roy gaped, feeling as though a sob might be trying to escape, but no sound came out. He couldn't breathe.
"Yes, Brother," Alphonse answered, sounding haggard as well but much more okay with this than Roy. He could only be hiding what he felt; Al was too attached to Edward to take this easily. "You're in love with Roy. You just don't remember."
Roy could actually feel the blonde gazing at him, sizing him up. He would have laughed if he had it in him; his current state wasn't exactly ideal for getting Ed going.
"I don't remember," the boy murmured. "You're my brother, and he's my…my boyfriend?"
"That's right, Brother."
"But how could I forget that?" Edward cried out. "How could I not know you're my brother!?" And you…" Ed walked over to Roy, plopped down in front of him. "I love you? How could I forget that?"
"You don't feel anything at all? Look at me. You don't…" Roy trailed off, desperate but sensing a continuing hesitancy from the blonde.
"No. I mean, you're—you're plenty attractive, but I don't know you…Roy."
The sound of his name, spoken with such an utter lack of recognition, with no trace of the warmth he had become accustomed to, sent Roy reeling. "Ed, please," he begged, grappling for the boy's arms. "Please. You can't—you have to remember. I love you."
But Edward pulled away, and Roy felt something inside of him crack. "Listen," the blonde said. "I don't remember either of you—but I don't remember anything else, either. My mind…it's so blank." Oh, Roy needed to hug the boy, he sounded so lost in that moment, but with his earlier efforts having been spurned, it probably wasn't the best idea. "I guess I believe you, but I just—I don't remember. I can't just suddenly go back to being your brother, Alphonse, or your lover, Roy. I don't know either of you."
"It's okay, Brother. You've lost your memories, but—but we can make new ones." For the first time since Roy had entered this conversation, Al seemed shaken, unsure.
"Alright," Edward agreed, not hesitant but not eager. Completely neutral. Uncaring—he didn't remember enough to care.
Alphonse could talk about rebuilding all he wanted, but—to Roy, it seemed hopeless. How was he supposed to make the boy he loved fall for him all over again, when he couldn't even remember his last name?
I'll probably do a second part to this that ends a little nicer...I think I've had enough of writing sad oneshots for a while.
