Title : Whispers of a Nightmare
Genre : Anime/Manga
Category : Full Metal Alchemist
Disclaimer : Nope, this one belongs to someone else as well.
Summary : Takes place after the incident with Nina. Something's wrong with Ed, and Al just can't quite figure out what it is. Serious situations and angst ensue.
Warnings : Angst, mild language, violence, and other issues that shall go unnamed for now. I don't want to give away too much of the plot just yet, now do I? ;)
Rating : T
Chapter 25 : Where the Streets Have No Name
He'd stopped counting the days by now, judging they kept turning into weeks. Every time he turned around, another month went rolling by, and before long, a certain State Alchemist's thirteenth birthday had crept upon them.
But Edward's state hadn't changed. There had been one moment of hope, a few weeks back. The blonde had moved his fingers, and made what sounded like a whimpering noise, Al's hope nearly skyrocketing through the roof; but the episode passed, and soon things went back to being uneventful, as they had been.
After losing what little happiness he had managed to obtain, Alphonse resorted to being the solitary suit of armor once again, keeping constant watch at his older brother's bedside, never once leaving the boy; silently thankful for once that he was actually just an empty shell. He probably wouldn't have survived if he consisted of flesh and bones.
He sat there, sitting up straight, his gauntlets positioned gently on his metal knees. The distinct sound of Edward's breathing filtered through his hearing, the eleven year old having trained himself to memorize the sound and its patterns, careful to know when it changed. Hell, even when it stayed the same.
His soul-filled eyes took in the sight they did every day, a pale and sickly looking Ed, laying helplessly beneath a sea of sheets and blankets, the cold weather seeping into the room and swallowing it whole, taking his scrawny body along with it.
It seemed that no matter how many times the younger boy request that the heat get turned up, Edward still managed to remain cold, a fact that was proven true by his other visitors.
Hawkeye had slipped in two to three times a week, checking on the both of them and seeing if anything had changed. She always apologized for the Colonel's absence, citing his promotion and the amount of new responsibilities that came with it.
But Alphonse had other theories for the man's disappearance; guilt, fear, and a handful of other things that perhaps could truly be the cause. But he never once vocalized his opinions to Mustang's subordinate, the boy still not understanding how the woman could claim the Colonel to be human.
It's his fault Ed's in here anyway.
The eleven year old had tried all he could to reason with himself, but the bitter thoughts continued to cross his mind, whether he liked it or not.
But without his help, we never would have made it this far...
Frustration was becoming a constant emotion within Al's soul, ultimately knowing it was their fault and their fault alone that brought them there. But for the life him, he just couldn't admit it.
A breathless sigh emanated from the armor just as the door to the room creaked open, emitting a trace amount of light into the din that seemingly enveloped the room. Al's helmet turned immediately, his soul-filled eyes falling upon that of Maes Hughes, a saddened smile tipping up the corners of the man's mouth.
"Hello, Major," the boy offered as politely as possible, though for some reason, his voice sounded almost weary, tired.
Hughes was quiet for a moment before he replied, letting the boy's distant voice circulate through his head before answering.
"How's it going?" he asked, walking over to the bed. His hazel eyes glanced down at Edward, taking note that the boy was as still and as innocent looking as the last time he had been there. His brow narrowed slightly, seeing that the teen's golden hair was becoming more dull with each visit, making his skin look even more transparent than it actually was.
"The same, I guess. Nothing's changed, if that's what you're asking." It was in a tone that could only be described as deadpan, the boy obviously taking nothing for granted any longer.
"I see," Hughes admitted quietly, pushing a stray hair out of Edward's face. "Since he's obviously not going anywhere," he started, nodding towards the comatose boy, trying his best to get a laugh out of the eleven year old, even though he knew it was no use. "Why don't you and I go for a walk? You've gotta get out of here sometime."
"No, that's okay. I think I'd rather stay here for now," Alphonse replied, his gaze drifting back to his brother, the numbness of it all getting to him.
"Have you ever heard of the saying, 'A watched pot never boils?'" There was a glimmer in his hazel orbs as he spoke, finally peaking the interest of the suit of armor that had been seemingly made of stone since Edward had first come into the hospital.
Alphonse slowly stared back at the Major, confusion now entering his tone. "Well, yeah. Actually, my Mom used to say that a lot when Ed and I were boys. But usually when she did, we were just waiting for dinner to be done."
Hughes couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the boy's innocent enough answer, the smile turning into a grin.
"It mean's that you can keep sitting there watching him, letting the pain get the best of you, or you can let him wake up when the time is right and he's ready to." He paused, adjusting his glasses as he glanced back at Edward. "Whatever it is that's going on inside his mind...isn't for us to understand, not yet anyway." He looked back at Alphonse, sensing a change in the child's soul-consumed orbs. "So, how about that walk? Fifteen minutes, thirty tops. Come on, don't make me pry you out of that chair. That is, if you're not already stuck to it," he tried upon seeing Al's reluctance.
There was a sigh, followed by the sound of the floor creaking as the eleven year old stood to his metallic feet. "I guess a little walk couldn't hurt."
Hughes watched as the boy leaned over the bed, obviously whispering something into his older brother's ears. Al stood quietly, stealing one last glance at Ed before following Maes out of the room.
The moment they exited the building, Al couldn't help but gasp, his helmet turning from side to side as he took in the sight of a snow covered Central, icicles hanging from the hibernating trees. The whole city glistened, a few flurries still spiraling from the sky, landing on metal flesh that couldn't melt it.
"It's...It's beautiful," he whispered, woe filling his tone. His eyes flickered, nearly dimming as thoughts of Edward raced through his mind, instantly feeling bad because he was allowed to see the season that had apparently crept up on them, yet Ed was back in the cold hospital bed, unconscious and unknowing.
It wasn't fair.
"It—it looks like a picture on a postcard," the eleven year old murmured sadly, staring at the hint of twilight that was teasing the edge of the horizon. He paused, his glance drifting to the snow covered ground, a few footprints visible in the inch or so that had fallen. "It's Elysia's birthday today."
Maes knew what those words meant even before he had a chance to ask. "It's Edward's too." The man's voice was quiet, subtle. He took a seat on a nearby park bench, jamming his gloved hands into the pockets of the trench coat, tiny spirals of mist leaving his lips as he spoke. "He's strong, you know. One of the strongest kids I've ever seen. He'll pull through."
It was one thing to try and reassure a seven foot tall suit of armor that his older brother was going to be okay; but it was another trying to reassure an eleven year old boy who lost his mother, had no clue if his father was dead or alive, and had to watch his brother slowly deteriorate in a hospital right before his eyes.
The man sighed lightly, watching the boy quietly take a seat next to him, the steel gleaming in the white of the snow.
"I keep thinking that-" Al's voice quickly broke, tears leaking down an invisible face lost in the gate. "That he's going to open his eyes any minute and start rambling about how much he hates hospitals and doctors and that he's alright—" His voice was shaking dramatically, tumbling up and down faster than he could control it. "But...it's been so long...and...and nothing. What if—what if he doesn't wake up, Major? What if he just lays there until...until he dies?"
The lonely suit of armor slowly peered over at the man who had tears brimming in his eyes just listening to the boy speak.
Careful not to let his voice carry tremors as Al's had, he cleared his throat, sitting up straight and looking directly into the soul-filled eyes that were somehow managing to peer wearily at him."He's strong, Alphonse; and he has a wonderful protector at his side giving him the strength he needs to get through this. You know, even though his eyes are closed and his mind's somewhere else, he can still hear you when you speak. Have you tried to talk to him?"
Alphonse looked away, letting a mumble of, "a little," emanate from the steel flesh, his voice still shaking lightly. His metallic shoulders slumped as he hung his head, feeling oddly guilty for reasons beyond his knowing.
"He's not going to leave you, Al. Just think of it as a vacation," he joked, not even earning a snicker out of the so-called "grown-up" that sat at his side.
"He was in so much pain, Major. I mean, he kept denying it, but I could see it in his eyes. No matter what he said, I know he was hurting. And it didn't help that we weren't exactly getting along either—" He cut himself off, wanting to stop the words that were blurting out of his steel, but for some reason, it was like the dam had finally burst, forcing him to take account of his own feelings. "And he made me so mad, acting so stubborn and all, like nothing was wrong..." He started to sob, feeling worse yet minutely better by the second. "But it was...it was."
Without even the slightest hint of hesitation, Hughes wrapped his arms around the boy's somewhat frozen exterior, the bitter chill of the metal easily seeping through his clothes and numbing his skin; but for the moment, he was looking at a helpless child, albeit a lonely one at that. This boy wasn't the mature being that acted older than his older brother; no, this was the little boy who was stuck in an empty shell, attempting to make the best out of what little he and Edward truly had.
Hell, they don't even have a home.
The thought struck him as strange but it was true, he recalled Alphonse telling him something of the sort, apparently accidentally letting it slip out of his metallic body, no doubt in front of the biggest secret keeper of them all.
"As soon as Ed wakes up and he's cleared, and this is only if you boys want, but you can come stay with us, for as long as you like. Or until Roy decides to send you two off again," he added with a slight roll of the eyes.
The quiet whimpering slowly tapered off, just as the snow had, a frozen breeze left in its place. The boy slowly lifted his helmet, soul-filled eyes suddenly looking like candles, containing such warmth that it radiated off of him, Hughes not even feeling winter's breath for the moment.
"You...you mean it?" Hughes had never heard the boy sound so young and innocent, his wind-chapped lips turning up slightly.
"Of course I do. Gracia would love to have you two there. And Elysia? Having her two big brothers there to play with and laugh at? She wouldn't miss it for the world," he said with a smile, the winter chill bringing involuntary tears to his eyes.
It took a moment for the boy to reply, his helmet responding before he did. "Sure, I'd like that a lot. And I'm pretty sure Ed would too." His voice was soft, yet it had regained its air of maturity, a burden and a gift at the same time for the boy.
"It's settled then. Oh, I almost forgot," the man said, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a small box, a red bow decorating its top. "Give this to Edward for me when he wakes up. Gracia picked it out, but I'm sure he'll like it nonetheless. I'll be back tomorrow, okay?" he said as he stood to his feet, appearing quite cold and in need of a large cup of coffee, or a fireplace; whichever he found first.
"Okay," Al slowly responded, standing to his feet as well, placing the box away for safe keeping. He watched the man flash him his trademark grin before he turned away, only making it about ten feet before the boy called out to him. The man turned back expectantly, his eyes gleaming in the street lights' glow, the smile still planted firmly across his lips.
"Thank you." The two words were quiet yet audible, making the hazel eyed man's grin grow even wider.
"I'll see you and Ed tomorrow." And with that, he started walking again, disappearing into the shadows of the streets where the light failed to shine.
"Yeah," Al mumbled, clanking softly as he made his way back to the hospital, prepared for another night of silence. "Happy Birthday, Brother..."
&&&&&
Hesitance tugged at the man's hand that was within inches of the door knob, his onyx orbs eying it reluctantly. Guilt flooded through him as he watched his fingers shake uncontrollably, not understanding why what he was about to do brought so much pain to him.
Hell, he'd visited his share of fallen and wounded soldiers, but for some ungodly reason, facing the one that lay just beyond the too white door seemed wrong, as though he knew he shouldn't be there. He should've just left the boy alone, but the nagging that his conscience did to him was becoming too much. Thus, bringing him to his destination on this bitter cold winter night.
Letting out the most silent of sighs, he opened the door, his head slowly lifting, dreading the sight that awaited him. It only took a second for his eye to meet it, even though the thirteen year old was seemingly buried under a mound of cottony material.
Tears of hate flashed before him, brimming at the cheeks that hadn't felt the saltine substance in years. Though the feeling wasn't for the child that lay less than ten feet away from him; no, it was for himself.
Blinking them away, he entered the solitary space, inwardly thanking Maes for more than likely dragging Alphonse from the room. There was no way he could face the both of them tonight, knowing that the younger of the two more than likely hated him by now and blamed him for the majority of all their problems. But that was to be expected; it was a child's way of coping with things that were out of their reach and frame of mind.
The Colonel's footsteps were heavy on the linoleum floor, dragging across it slowly but precisely, never forgetting the beat of the rhythm he had been trained to walk to.
The man stopped a few feet away from the boy's bedside, taking in the sight of the thirteen year old, taking note of the pallor of his skin; and how his body, with the exception of the automail, was probably more fragile than porcelain at the moment.
He almost lifted a hand to push back Edward's hair, but cut himself short, not letting his guard down completely. The man was there, and right now, that was the most important thing. He had to remind himself, Roy Mustang wasn't exactly the "mushy" type, as he so cordially recalled.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked down, the dull floor coming into view. A few strands of hair brushed across his forehead, he not even bothering to push them away. His gaze became unfocused for a moment, the sound of Ed's breathing filtering through his ears. Roy looked up, watching the boy's chest slowly rise and fall, rhythmic in itself.
The man found himself completely detached yet paralyzed with silent grief, dismantling his conscience from the inside out.
He'd sent plenty of men to their deaths in war, fully knowing the consequences and the outcome; but strangely, he felt as though he'd practically sent Edward's to his as well. Though it was more or less a give and take situation; he gave Edward the opportunity to change things and the boy took the invitation without another thought. It was a responsibility they were both entitled to, though the Colonel even more so.
And almost regretfully, he accepted it.
And in doing so, it brought him to this place tonight.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought of being somewhere else and drowning himself in alcohol rolled around; but that wouldn't be fair to himself or the kid. That much was true.
But he had came there to say something, and for the life of him, his vocal chords appeared to be out of order, rendering him silent in the already deathly still room. All he could do was stare guiltily at the youngest State Alchemist in the history of Amestris, his hardened visage transforming into that of a broken man, his jaw clenching tightly.
He didn't know how it had come down to this. No one person had ever had such an impact on him, and he still couldn't understand why this boy and his little brother did.
Perhaps it was because they were the only ones to have survived a human transmutation, failed or not. Or perhaps, it was the fact that they had no one else but each other, a fact that gave him all the more reason to silently protect them, though this time, it was clear he hadn't.
He had failed. And that pissed him off more than anything.
Apparently, there were firsts in everyone's life, including his.
A sarcastic smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a mirthless laugh breaking through his grit teeth. His jet black hair fell further into his face, covering his onyx eyes in just the way Edward's golden locks covered his when he became embarrassed to show his feelings.
How ironic.
Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the fact that the boy actually reminded him of himself; stubborn beyond belief to the point of pissing other people off, selfish yet selfless in their own distorted way, and captivated by a science that could do almost anything, except bring people back to life, of course.
A faint memory surfaced in the depths of his mind, containing images and pictures he hadn't thought of in years. He was quite taken aback by the recollection, though that feeling was purely within, the look on his face now resorting back to being as emotionless as possible. He couldn't take the chance of someone walking in and seeing him breaking into a million little pieces all over a comatose child. He'd be the laughing stock of the military, in his eyes anyway.
But it was there, clear and vivid in his eyes, they forcing him to watch a ghost of his past he'd prefer better left forgotten.
Rain pounded on the roof of the house, clapping loudly against the shingles that looked as though they could blow away at any second, courtesy of the gusting wind. Lightning flashed over head, lighting up the grey clouds, surrounding them in brilliant arrays of purples and blues.
Underneath the storm, the house was quiet, seemingly empty from the outside, though it was a different story on the inside.
Tree branches knocked insistently on the only window in the small bedroom, threatening entry if they were not allowed in soon. But the noise fell on deaf ears, the two people in the room a world away from the commotion that was going around them.
A young man sat next to the bed, his jet black bangs hanging carelessly in his onyx eyes, the woman laying in the bed before him telling him over and over again that if one would look close enough, they would actually be able to see tiny but noticeable lakes of navy surrounded by the ebony color.
The young man could only give a half-hearted smile at the words, continuing to tell the woman that she needed to rest, but she wouldn't have it.
"I'm fine, son. You should know better," she stated, the sound of her voice equaling the volume of a gentle breeze, lost amidst the cackling thunder and howling wind.
"You need your rest," he repeated, glancing up into the crystal clear blue eyes that stared back at him, the woman smiling even through all the pain that was radiating through her gaunt and broken body.
"You sound like your father," she mumbled, a coughing fit coming over the woman, forcing her to squeeze the young man's hand tighter, her blonde locks flying carelessly around her face as her body continued to tremble.
"Mom." His voice was gentle, fearful; but it held a warning tone within in it, his mother choosing not to hear it.
She gazed up at him, letting out a choked laugh. "You never will change, will you? Even when you were little, you always seemed to forget that I was the one that was supposed to tell you what to do, not the other way around." She paused, her eyes slowly drifting towards the ceiling. "After I'm gone, you're going to leave, aren't you?" Her tone was much more serious this time, she unable to meet the young man's questioning orbs.
"Mom, I thought we weren't going to discuss this again." He meant for it to be a statement, and a firm one at that, but once again, she had him doubting whatever motives and plans of action he had assembled for...for later.
"Roy, he's going to be so lonely without you. Why can't you just try to get to know him, to understand him? He's not that bad of a man. You know he isn't," she pleaded, her crystalline orbs traveling back to him, glimmering with a haze only seen before one's final departure.
It hurt too much to look at her now. He forced his eyes to the hardwood floor, holding back the wall of tears that was ready to crumble at any moment. The young alchemist could hear his voice trembling even before he spoke.
"He hasn't wanted to know me for eighteen years, so why should he even try to now?" Roy asked through grit teeth, taking in a sharp breath, avoiding the hurt look that was presently plastered across his mother's face. "I'm sorry, but I can't." He shook his head furiously, glancing into the orbs whose life was starting to recede. "Mom..."
"Just...just promise me you won't forget him, Roy. No matter what you think...he loves you...After all, he's only human." A trace of a smile graced her lips as she stared into the young man's eyes one last time before hers slowly closed, one last breath leaving her lungs before all was silent.
He stared at her for a long moment, his hand still interwoven tightly with hers. The eighteen year old could feel cool rivers of saltine trickling down his cheeks as the realization hit him that she was gone. Her skin, once so warm and soothing was now cold to the touch, the life slowly filtering out of her.
"Mom...Mom..." He couldn't control the shaking of his voice anymore, it was just too much. The only thing that shook him out of his stupor was the sound of the bedroom door creaking, his head immediately jerking at the noise, his eyes catching the last glimpse of a shadow quickly disappearing down the hallway.
He stood immediately, the chair nearly toppling over behind him. Anger surged through him as his legs propelled him forward, his footfalls echoing heavily on the hallway floor, catching up to the shadow that had obviously tried to disappear.
Without even thinking, he reached out, grabbing a hold of the man's shoulder, his other hand threatening to snap. His entire body was shaking, the emotions that had built their fortress within him slowly starting to attack his bloodstream.
He was frozen, staring into the eyes of the man who helped bring him into this world, though at the moment, he could hardly care less.
Roy's teeth were clenched tightly, the action visible through his skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear his breath leaving his lungs, his chest rising up and down faster than he cared for; but that wasn't his main focus, no, it was the person standing in front of him.
"What are you gonna do? Snap me to death?" The tone was sarcastic though serious, the man's navy eyes burning into the younger one's, his jaw clenched as well.
It only took a moment for the scent of alcohol to hit him, and that in itself only sent the eighteen year old further off the edge.
"I will never understand how that woman put up with you all these years," Roy muttered through a tight-lipped mouth, fire burning in his onyx orbs.
The older man laughed at the comment, tears hidden far behind the alcohol-induced facade he was wearing. "The same could be said for you too, 'son.'" He made sure to emphasize the last word, knowing that it would crawl its way underneath the younger man's skin.
A pained yet angered smile crossed Roy's lips, his fingers clenching the cottony material of his father's shirt. "Don't you ever—ever call me son, you bastard." It was a low whisper, but definitely audible, and rang consistently throughout his father's ears.
The fake smile immediately washed off the older man's face, anger electrocuting his veins even more so than his son's. Before the younger of the two knew it, he was being slammed against the wall, the breath knocking out of him.
"I am, and always will be your father whether you like it or not," the man stated, his words coming faster than Roy was willing to hear them. "And you will respect me as long as you're living in this house. Now I know you think that you're almighty and powerful just because you can do that alchemy crap, but you are nothing more than a child in my eyes, boy."
"The woman you've been married to for the past twenty years just died and all you can do is chastise me for the things that I do or don't do?" the eighteen year old shot back, frustration and pain clear in his voice. Furiously, he pushed away from the older man, knocking him back into the adjacent wall. "I hope you burn in hell, Rian." And with that, he headed for the door, not even bothering to take a second look at the older man, letting the rain pour on him as he slammed the door.
That was the last time he'd ever stepped foot into that house; and he hadn't thought about it since. He'd turned nineteen the next day and bought a ticket to Central, one Maes Hughes accompanying him. The rest was history.
He hadn't talked to his father since either, but perhaps...
Shaking his head, he glanced up through his bangs at the still boy, tears in his eyes as the vow he took the moment the thirteen year old became a State Alchemist ran through his thoughts.
Without a word, he turned slowly and made his way to the door. With the same hesitance he had going in, he placed his hand on the knob, letting himself out.
He made his way down the hall, unable to hear the change in Edward's breathing or the words that were suddenly forcing their way out of his mouth.
&&&&&
The day had come and gone. History had repeated itself, though whether or not the child chose to realize that truth was upon him. He'd watched the light fade from the woman's eyes, and before long, it had disappeared.
He and Alphonse hadn't managed to get their father to come back, not even for the funeral, making the boy's spite for him grow even more.
Longing and sadness ate away at him, though he tried his hardest to cheer up the younger brother who was secretly afraid of the plan they'd come up with. Only for some reason, the ten year old knew they weren't supposed to do it. But thinking things through wasn't quite one of Edward's strong points, a fact he was reminded of day in and day out.
But at the moment, that was exactly what he was doing.
The sun was starting to set, colors of red and orange and gold blazing across the sky, casting their eerie rays upon the boy as he stood, his gaze transfixed on his mother's tombstone. His eyes watered wearily as he reread her name over and over again, memorizing the way it was carved into the stone and how there was the tiniest bit of granite missing just below the letter I in her name.
A gentle, cool breeze blew past him, lifting his golden locks ever so slightly, a few stray strands drifting across his face. He shivered involuntarily, closing his eyes as the wind began to howl in his ears. The ten year old wrapped his arms around himself, the chill of the air settling in, his thin t-shirt and pants not able to sustain the warmth that he needed.
The crunching of leaves behind him stirred Edward from his thoughts, his head jerking immediately in the direction of the sound. His eyes widened upon seeing the intruder of his solitude, shock electrocuting his system.
He nearly fell to his trembling knees at the sight, not able to believe the person who was staring back at him. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, or charge at the man.
"Hello, Edward." The voice of the man who had disappeared years ago drifted through his hearing, only making everything that surrounded him feel even more surreal and dreamlike.
"What are you doing here?" The ten year old had meant to sound more threatening, but his vulnerability far surpassed any menacing tone he could try to muster at the moment. The wind blew against his face once more, making the tears that were already steadfast in his golden orbs even more apparent. He immediately turned away from the man, ashamed of the saltine liquid that was trying to pursue a path down his already wet cheeks.
"I was almost going to ask you that, until I remembered," the man replied with such a casual air that it pissed the boy off even more. "I...I heard what happened." His voice immediately carried an unsure tone, his once vibrant golden locks now dull and bland, even in the fading rays of the sunset. "Edward...I'm...I'm sorry."
"It's a little late for that," Ed returned sharply, his eyes narrowing in anger. He stood there for a minute, listening to the man's saddened sigh pass through his ears, not able to offer up one bit of forgiveness. "So what, did you come back hoping you could be in our lives just because she wasn't anymore? Is that it?" He was screaming now, the tears he had tried so hard to hide trickling down his cheeks with lightning force.
"No, that's not it, son-"
"Don't call me something that I'm not!" His chest was rising and falling quickly, his throat burning from the excessive volume it was being forced to use. The ten year old's golden orbs were now burning into the man's who stood in front of him, not a trace of love searing through his veins at the moment. His balled hands were now at his sides, shaking in anger.
"Edward...please..." Hoenhiem's voice was softer now, woe filling his tone. The man's shoulders slumped in defeat, years of life away from the home he had helped create obviously taking their toll on him.
"What? Did you expect me to be happy that you were here? That you finally came back? The only reason why we ever wanted you here in the first place was because maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have died." He paused, his brow narrowing even more. "But she did, and it was all because of you!" He was pointing a finger now, albeit a quavering one, directly at his father.
The man gave a tired smile, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have mattered had I been here or not, Ed. Nothing could have saved her, and you know that." There was honesty in his tone, but the ten year old was deaf to it, only able to hear the screaming voice in the back of his head that was telling him that the man was wrong and that it was all his fault.
"You're lying! I know you are! If you had been here...she wouldn't have given up." The boy's voice broke upon the last few words, his head hanging, his golden orbs drifting to the ground, saltine liquid falling helplessly as well.
"As much as you think that's true, Edward, it's not. There's nothing that I could have done to bring your mother back, and there's nothing that you can do either." The last statement took the boy by surprise, his eyes widening in fear.
"How do you know?" The words shot out of his mouth faster than he could control them, immediately regretting them but knowing it was too late to do anything about it.
"Look, Ed, that's—that's why I'm here. I know you what you're going to do, and it's not going to work. Not now, not this time, or the time after that. You can keep punishing yourself, or you can..."
"Snap out of it."
The tears stopped falling, the boy immediately gaping as he watched his father transform into that of a dark-haired man wearing a military uniform, a State Alchemist's pocket watch hanging at his side. He looked so familiar...but how could this be happening? His father was just standing there...
"Who the hell are you?" Edward cried out, turning from side to side, any trace of Hoenhiem vanishing along with the setting sun.
The dark-haired man smiled, looking awfully smug as he did so. "Come on Full Metal, you honestly don't remember me?" he questioned with mock hurt in his tone.
"My father...he was just...right there..." Edward's eyes widened as he spoke, fear racing up his spine as his small body moved, trying to understand what the hell was going on. This wasn't how he remembered it.
"Edward Elric, the youngest State Alchemist in the history of the State," the words parted the man's lips as though he were reciting them from an old history book or something of the sort.
The blonde's face fell slightly, his brow arching in confusion. He backed away, the dead leaves crumbling underneath his footfalls. "I don't know what you're talking about," the boy responded, continuing to feel himself move towards the edge of the cemetery, his eyes darting back and forth as though he were under attack.
An amused expression fell across the military man's visage, his onyx eyes twinkling in the din of twilight. "After you and your brother Alphonse performed a human transmutation on your mother and failed, you lost an arm and a leg-"
"Stop! I don't know what you're talking about! Leave me alone!" the ten year old screamed, his hands immediately covering his ears, disbelief entering his system.
"—and your brother lost his entire body. You saved him by fixing his soul to a suit of armor using a blood seal, using your own body as material. You then received artificial limbs by way of automail, and once your recovery was completed—"
Edward was near tears, his face contorted into a fear-filled visage, everything that the man was saying sounding so eerily familiar and true, though it just couldn't be possible and he knew it. There was just no way...
"We went to Central, and you became a State Alchemist, Brother." The voice no longer belonged to the military man; no, now Alphonse was speaking, only he didn't carry on the appearance of a nine year old boy. Instead, his voice was coming from a large suit of armor, a vessel obviously too big to be carrying a child inside.
Edward froze upon seeing the sight, tremors wracking his small body defenseless. All at once, it was as though a levy had broken, releasing thoughts and memories that had long been stored away. His eyes were overloaded with images of he and his brother and a little girl...
"Nina..." He could hear himself whisper her name, all the while knowing that everything that was being said in front of him was true. Edward shook his head, a picture of the little girl's remains splattered viciously against a brick wall. "No!" he screamed, backing away from Alphonse and taking off. He could hear the clanking of metal coming from behind, but he just couldn't face it. Not now.
Tears continued to race down his cheeks as he ran, tripping over crumbling tombstones and tree roots, the wind screaming like a banshee in through his eardrums. Though as the scenery flashed passed him, it changed, morphing into what looked like the city of Central.
It was all too familiar in his eyes.
But now, it seemed as though he were on autopilot, his legs carrying him past snow-covered streets and into that of a large building, a hospital he realized, as his feet forced him through the doors. Before long, he was racing down a hallway, coming to a stop at room 606.
The door slowly creaked open, revealing to the boy, himself; and the military man he had seen just seconds before, Mustang. Only this time, the man wasn't wearing his trademark smirk, and as Edward moved in closer, he saw the tears that were now falling from his eyes.
Without saying a word, the ten year old moved to the other side of the bed, staring first down at himself, then back up at Roy. They both looked so pathetic it wasn't even funny. But the irony of the situation was nothing compared to the realization and truth as to why he was there in the first place.
Kiase, Renégauld—it all made sense now. So, this was the result of his nightmares.
Go figure.
He studied himself, painstakingly forcing his golden orbs to take in what he had done to himself and others. He'd actually made the Colonel cry.
Wait a minute, am I dying?
Panic struck him the moment the man exited the room, now fearing that was the last time he'd ever lay eyes on him.
No, this isn't how it's supposed to be!
"Wait! Don't go! Mustang! Wait!" he cried out, running to the door, but it was too late. He watched in horror as the room and everything in sight was covered by darkness so thick it took his breath away.
Literally.
Author's note : Hey, I'm not dead! Sure as hell felt like it though...; ) First of all, I want to apologize for taking so freakin' long to update. It feels like it's been ages instead of two weeks. Secondly, thank you all so much for your continuous support, and there was no way I'd be able to keep writing if I didn't get it in one way or another. Your reviews, your feedback, your comments and PMs—everything, really, THANK YOU all.
I'm sorry that I couldn't respond to everyone this time around. I've been constricted on time and therefore, it's left me practically zero time for the internet. So, I would like to say THANK YOU to deltana, Saint of the Discord, Legendary Chimera, ThePatheticWriter, Harryswoman, Bloody Sword Alchemist, Akamori-chan, Eagleblaze, DarkAmber112, Mistress of the Night5, Night Fox Hiten, Hitokiri Musei, Flashlight Maniac, hyperdude, ssj2raider, Karlykitten, JChrys, Aemilia Rose, Roy-Fan-33, marufu-chan, Shattered Mirror01, Blonde Skye, CrystalMind, XNightRoseX, queenstrudel, Mistress of the Darkness, karikado, and EVERY single one of you who has put me on a list. Seriously, everyone, it means a lot to me.
It looks like there's going to be one chapter left guys, so I hope you enjoyed this one. I'm hoping I can update before Christmas, but at this point with work and everything else, I'm not so sure it'll be possible. BUT, it will be before the new year, that much I can say.
I hope this chap will suffice until the next one, and if I don't get a chance to say it before the next update, MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HANUKKAH, HAPPY KWANZA and felis navidad!
If I missed any one's other form of celebrating, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!