Chapter 25

Second Sight

"Let me kiss the stars tonight"

"Let it burst off into flight"

"Let go of all of your sorrow"

"Let us find a new tomorrow"

Edward heard of nothing but this enchanting melody float through the air. His head was swimming with nothing but sweet perfume, images of children playing outside on the sidewalk, barefoot in the rain. He opened his mouth, tongue lolling out. He tasted cold, tasted the sweet minerals in a clear raindrop.

"Let me kiss, the stars tonight," Edward mumbled, letting the intoxicating vision before him suffocate him. He rubbed his eyes as if waking from a twisted dream, but this was no dream. He was lying on his back, bare-chested. He felt cobble stones brush against his skin. The rays of summer tickled his nose and fingertips. He felt soaked to the core like a sudden downpour, but at the same time, he was dry as a bone licked clean from a dog. He opened his eyes. What he saw took him aback. He was in the middle of a small town. Crème colored shops and homes surrounded him, colorful signs hung off the sides of most structures. The air smelled like a strong scented flower, of cookies baking, of childhood. He was lying in the middle of a cobble-stone road, the entire town seemed deserted. Looking around he couldn't see any signs of life. The sun shone bright above him, stinging his vision. He raised his right hand to block the sunlight from his sensitive eyes. As his hand brushed against his stomach, he didn't get the expected shock of cold metal grazing warm flesh. Quickly, he sat up, examining his hands. He saw two fleshy appendages, with five rounded fingers on each hand. He couldn't believe it, he must be dreaming now. But, it felt so real to him. He pinched himself on the shoulder, hoping this wouldn't pull him out of his fantasy. Nothing happened, confirming his belief. He wanted to cry, to cheer, to scream, to stay in this nirvana forever. He brought his unbranded right hand up to his face. He felt wet tears on the fingertips, his hands were now shaking. He couldn't think, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He just needed to know he was still human, that he wasn't dead. He brushed his right hand down his chest, feeling the bumps and curves of his Pecs, his stomach, his belly button, his abdomen, a head. He recoiled back in shock, finally getting a good look at himself. A girl with long blonde hair was facedown lying on top of him. Her arms were wrapped around him in a loving embrace. She was barely clothed, only a silk mini-skirt and what looked to be a red kimono. He felt her bare chest press into his. Her breathing mimicked his in synchronicity. Her head was balanced gently between his hips and waist. It wasn't until now when he began to feel her presence; the tickle of her hair on his body, the icy grip she had on him, the feeling of drowning. Edward was succumbed by the idyllic situation. The girl was breathing gently, a mumbling coming from her lips, which he felt kissing his abdomen. The mumbling was slowly becoming coherent language, almost like a song.

"Oh, how you are so good to me"

"Oh, how good it is to be"

"With you, near you"

"Inside, of you"

"Oh, why did you have to go?"

"Oh Edward, why, oh why, did you leave me?"

"Oh why did you leave your, Winry?"

Edward choked; the girl raised her head slowly. Looking back at him was a sweet, tomboyish girl. She had blonde hair, a few piercings here and there on her ears, and an invigorating smile. She smelled like oil, like the heart of a machine, just how he remembered her. Winry Rockbell crawled on top of Edward, gripping his shoulders with clammy, cold fingers. Edward leaned into Winry, his right hand touching her innocent face. He felt warm rosy lips against his. The smell of engines engulfed him. Winry moved her hands down Edward's chest, gripping his bare legs. He took it all in, nothing seemed to end, and nothing began. It was just him, and her. Edward managed to find his voice in euphoria.

"But, you're . . . Winry, you're dead." Edward managed to choke out, as Winry slowly peeled off his pants. He didn't try to stop her, but questions started to flood his head, his mind clicked on.

"Why did you leave me?" Winry sang, her tone slowly starting to tip off-key. Winry rolled down his chest, kissing each and every part of him. He felt exposed, just in boxers. He wondered if people were watching, hiding in their homes watching this dance between two long lost friends. Winry rubbed Edward's thigh affectionately, Edward leaned in and kissed Winry's neck, the smell of technology wrapping him even more.

"Winry, stop. You can't be here. You died. I watched you. I watched them kill you. I w-," But Edward stopped as Winry attempted to reach her hand up the seam of Edward's boxers.

"Ed, how long have you wanted this? How long now? Don't fight it, just let it go," Winry whispered with a hint of lust. She leaned into him, kissing him sweetly on the cheek. He blushed bashfully, ashamed at how childish he was being. Winry ran her fingers nervously through her hair, flicking a gaze to Edward, who was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Winry, you know I love you, you know that," Edward stammered, as Winry tried to remove Edward's boxers again. He reached out, gripping her arm with his right hand. He couldn't feel his right arm. His head snapped back to his right arm. It was glinting with the sheen of metal. Edward's heart sank into his stomach, the dream was fading. Winry rolled back off of Edward, pressing into him with a kiss. He ran his fingers though her hair, wishing he could feel it with both hands like he could have just minutes ago. He had taken his wish for granted, and he felt like kicking himself because of it. He felt with his left hand still, feeling her hair grow longer. Her hands became firmer, stronger. Her breasts retracted from her chest, becoming flat. He felt her get heavier in his arms. No longer was the scent of metal, but an acrid smell of smoke. He pushed Winry away, not liking this dream anymore.

"Why won't you save me?" Edward wanted to scream, his heart jumped out of his stomach and into his mouth. Straw blonde hair blew in the wind, matching eyes burned into his. Strong, agile hands gripped his shoulders. Kellach wore a sinister grin on his face, his hands vice-like on Edward's body. He couldn't speak, he couldn't think. He wanted to scream out. Around him, the world was falling around him. The day turned to night, the houses' windows cracked with horrific sounds. The sweet singing became macabre chants of death. Edward tried to make a noise, to flee, but Kellach put a firm finger to his lips.

"Shhh, it'll all be over soon." And his tongue plunged into his throat.

With a jolt, Edward woke a sweating, panting mess. Looking down at him were Hermione, and Shadow, concern on their faces. Edward felt sick to his stomach; still tasting the wizard's spit in his mouth. He curled over, retching. He felt a warm hand press against his back. Hermione rubbed his back gently. Edward tried to catch his breath, tossing onto his back, leaning up against the wall of the Gummi ship. He was in a small cot-like bed, the first level of two.

"Shadow, why the hell didn't you get me earlier?" Hermione fussed, checking Edward's temperature, like a worried mother.

"For the fifth time Hermione, I thought he was just dreaming. He kept muttering some chick's name, and moaning. I didn't want to disturb the guy from his little delusion," Shadow sighed, standing over the two, arms crossed, "Winry, oh Winry. More Winry more, yeah I wasn't going to be interfering with the little pervert's sick fantasy-,"

"For your information, I was not having a sexual dream, at least, not at first I was," The thought of Kellach crept back into his head, causing the bile to rise back up into his throat, but he suppressed it, "I was in Twilight Town, again. And, an old friend was there, but that's beside the point," he said defensively, attempting to rise out of the cot, but he fell back down into the bed. Hermione groaned quietly.

"You're probably just stressed after all that's happened," Hermione said. It sounded odd to her; she was under much more stress than him, the loss of a home, a lover, and friends. She pushed the thought out of her mind.

"Who's steering the ship?" Edward asked, trying to get comfortable again in the cot. He wiped cold sweat from his forehead.

"Sasuke, he said he knew where he was going. The log book has perfect directions to the place." Hermione answered, now standing up next to Shadow.

"And what about Neji? Is he ok?" Edward asked quickly, his mind still quite a blur. Shadow stopped him, though, pulling a sheet up to his neck.

"He woke up about an hour ago. He's in a lot of pain, but Hermione and Aang have been healing him slowly. He'll be fine by the time we reach Twilight Town."

"But I can't say the same for you," Hermione muttered, examining him with a judging eye, "it looks like you're coming down with the flu," she said, her arms crossed even tighter than Shadow's. Edward stammered, attempting yet again to get up.

"Hermione, I don't feel sick. I just, I just . . . . look. I know what I saw, and it was Twilight Town. It was the second vision I had gotten of the place, but this one, it was more," Edward didn't feel it wise to divulge the details of the vision to his friends, "vivid." Hermione wore a worried expression, chewing her lip fervently. Shadow just looked bored, more interested in a bug on his arm than Edward's current predicament.

"You saw Twilight Town again?" Hermione finally responded, her bottom lip nearly drawing blood, "Oh Edward, I don't like this. I don't like this at all. How are you able to get these hallucinations about a place you've never visited before? It's just," Hermione searched her mind for a fitting word to sudden visions about a place someone had never visited before, "scary." Edward once again tried to take a stab at standing up. He rolled up onto his feet, as if waking from a deep, uncomfortable sleep. He then purged all over Hermione, collapsing into her, sending the both of them to the hard metallic floor of the ship. Hermione was shaking in disgust, rage, and utter disgust. She threw Edward off of her, gagging slightly. She quickly whipped out her wand, muttering a few words rapidly. The sick dissolved off of her clothes and hair, the smell unfortunately was still lingering.

"Ok Shadow, while I go scrub myself till I bleed to death, you get Edward back into his bed. Now!" Hermione barked, as she stormed off, the sound of her heels clanking against the metallic floor. Shadow waited for the sounds to subside before he went to work. He lifted his friend up from his near drunken stupor off of the floor. Taking a wet washcloth, he scrubbed the puke off of Edward's face and around his clothes. He had to admit it was almost as if washing an ignorant infant; he whimpered most of the time, half of the time he clung onto Shadow's ankles like an iron ball, and other times he just kept blabbering about the dreams he had. He had to wrench Edward's now disgusting clothes off of him, stripping him down to his boxers. He thought it a little pathetic that he had to carry his own comrade into his bed, once again like he was a frightened little child. "What the hell has gotten into him?" Shadow thought, a little loss for words, "If he's in this almost fetal condition, those dreams must have been a little more than just figments of his imagination," he pondered as he placed a light fleece blanket up to his collarbone. Edward tried to mutter something incomprehensible, at first Shadow thought he heard Edward say "Oblivion," and "Old Manor" but he dismissed this by feverish ramblings. With one last glance at Edward, Shadow groaned as he made his way down the hallway towards his own room, ready to welcome sleep into his arms.

Edward was then left by himself in the cold metallic room. The feel of the icy walls brought Edward out of his lachrymose daze. He cleared all of the fog from his mind, the sweet smells of a sunlit town finally releasing its grip of him. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and coughed when he smelt a most foul odor emanating from his own body. The illusions of his dreams were finally purged from his body.

And with it, the warm soft flesh of arm and leg.

His heart plunged deep into his bones, they felt brittle, breakable. He let out a small cry, almost inaudible to anyone who might have been nearby. He was wrenched from a dream and back into his nightmarish reality. It all dawned on him just then, in one crushing blow. Edward was sending these people to their slaughter; there was no way they could take down Organization Xlll, just a bunch of teens. His brother was in the hands of their leader, and god knows if he was even still alive. He had made a promise to a girl he had never met to resurrect her boyfriend, whom Edward has no information on him, using the most taboo of alchemy. This being the last time he lost everything trying to play god in the first place. And what did it all give him? Battle scars, broken ties, a death toll to rival the greatest of wars. Edward felt so small at that moment, he felt suddenly vulnerable; a feeling he hadn't felt in years. He felt like a child, and that's all he was, a child. They were all children, and they were all going to die, one by one. It was at that moment when he succumbed to his fears, crouching in fetal position, facing a steel wall on an uncomfortable cot. He surrendered to sobbing, his right hand pressed against his face in shame. He wanted so badly for the warmth to return to that hand, the soft membrane caressing his cheek. He wanted to be normal again; he wanted to flee back into those dreams. He continued to press his faux hand against his face throughout the rest of the night, praying to the gods he knew wouldn't listen to him. He pleaded to himself that when he woke up, the nightmares would be over. That his mother would be alive, that his brother and he were back to normal. That he would be in a beautiful house in Risenbol, a beautiful blonde mechanic sitting beside him in the fire. And he collapsed in that cot, thankful that he was alone in that confined space, and gave into the darkness and remorse within his heart.