He Who Searches For Himself
1915-11-30
Dear Sheska,
How's everything been over in Central since we chatted on the phone the other week? I'm down in Rush Valley again, so feel free to send a letter or a phone call this way.
First, I did get your package. Thank you for shopping for me, I really don't think I should be seen poking around Central any time soon. I've had some spare time since Wrath disappeared, so if you still want me to put together an 'oven' for you, let me know. Roze says that I should patent and sell my style of 'oven'; I'm definitely going to look into the idea. I can just imagine the stuff I could buy with the profits I'd make. I'll have such a good thing going for me and not even be 18!
Anyways, Al's been getting on really well. You need to come and see him! He's become something like a big brother to Roze's baby; I think he enjoys that role way too much. He's going to make such a wonderful dad someday; I can't wait to see him like that. The thought of watching Al grow up is kind of exciting. Izumi's still over protective of him whenever she stays for a weekend though; Al hasn't figured out how to react to her behaving like that.
It's gotten sort of uneasy to talk to him, but we're working through it; he seems really nervous when we talk. We have so little we can relate to each other, there's nothing he remembers that we can build a conversation on and the things he remembers I've forgotten most of. If he wasn't suddenly so much younger than me, I might have been able to talk with him more. I don't know how much the situation bothers him, some days I wonder if we even sound believable.
Granny says we should stop burdening Al with stuff he doesn't remember; we'll start all over, move forward from there and see where life takes us. If he wants to know something, he'll ask. I think it's easier on Al like that, rather than us upsetting him with stories about things and people he's suppose to know and doesn't. He was fascinated by everything at first, but now it just seems to bother and upset him. Izumi said it's probably like rubbing salt on an open wound. The only thing he's done is brought up ideas of what happened to Ed; Granny and Izumi are really trying to discourage him from doing anything about it.
Ed's still missing. When Roze told us what had happened we put it together with what Izumi had found and figured out what he'd done. Izumi continues to go off to look now and then; just in case, I suppose. For me, it's just easier to pretend he's not here. We told Al for a while that Ed was in Central, but we eventually had to tell him what happened. He was really upset with us; and he had every right to be. I think we lived in denial that Ed would go that far; and we didn't want to admit anything to Al since we didn't want to accept it ourselves. Admitting that Ed had died felt sort of like admitting Al wasn't human for all those years. If Al thought Ed was alive, things were somehow better.
But really, things have been better lately. We got over the rough part and things are moving on.
Anyways, Rush Valley is really nice right now with all the fall leaves, come out and see me sometime on a long weekend. I hear that the military is going through an overhaul, I can imagine that everyone is somewhat unsettled by the change in power and your job's gotten hectic. I hope the instability isn't causing too many problems for everyone. I've heard that the Ishibal Policy has begun to go through revisions. I think that's good, there's a couple of boys I'm hoping do really well.
How's Mr. Mustang doing? You told me a bit on the phone about his injury, but I'm still interested in knowing how he's doing. I actually want to know how everyone's doing, so keep me up to date. You can be my eyes and ears. Send me a picture of Elysia once in a while too.
Write me back!
Winry Rockbell
Chapter 63 - From Beyond the Looking Glass
"Now Al," Sheska's hands fluttered in front of herself, "you have to remember that Winry wrote that letter last winter. You can understand how strange things were back then, right? And she told me things have gotten way better; we've had a couple more letter exchanges and chats on the phone. Please, please, please, don't take that thing out of context."
"That's fine," Al pushed his wooden chair away from the table as he stood up, "I know," he moved to Mustang's desk, and handed the letter back to Lieutenant Havoc, who'd managed to remain in Mustang's chair regardless of the man's presence. Al turned away from Havoc while he put the letter back into his chest pocket and then reached to answer the ringing phone.
Al's eyes scanned the room of men and women gathered, "So…" Al's face wrinkled slightly, "everyone's read that letter?"
There was a collective nod among the silent gathering within the room.
"Oh," Al scratched his cheek lightly as he moved to sit back down; positioned at Mustang's right and Sheska's left.
The silence was uneasy. Al could only guess at the multitude of questions running through everyone's mind; the moment he'd entered the room all eyes were on him. Mustang had been gracious enough to introduce the members within the room: Lt. Colonel Armstrong, Major Hawkeye, First Lieutenant Havoc, Second Lt. Breda, Sgt. Major Fury, Warrant Officer Falman. Along with himself and Second Lt. Ross, Sheska had come to join the gathering at Mustang's incontestable demand.
"Alphonse Elric," came Armstrong's powerful voice, "young Miss. Winry mentioned in her letter about your memory. How far back does it take you?"
Al shifted in his seat as he mulled over the question, "Um, I don't remember anything after we tried to bring our Mom back…"
It was only Roy, Riza and Sheska who picked up the true cause behind the growing looks of confusion and shock that left Al squirming in his seat over a fact Roy had never disclosed.
"…a little over six years ago."
"That was the spring before the boys arrived in Central," Roy's voice had come up quickly in addition to the statement, "I believe you were left in the same physical condition as back then as well."
Al slowly nodded at the statement.
Everyone took the underlying cue Mustang had given and wiped all reaction from their eyes. A collective realization fell upon the room: the aforementioned human transmutation was something the Brigadier General had known long before this young Elric had ever returned Central.
Havoc disconnected his phone call and glanced over to Mustang, "She's on her way up, Sir."
Glancing into the unspoken trail of knowledge shared between Havoc and Mustang, Al spoke up, "More people are coming?"
Folding his arms, Mustang leaned back in his seat, "Mrs. Hughes."
The name drew a distraught sigh from Al, "She was really upset last night when Winry disappeared."
Raising an eyebrow in distant thought, Roy's voice was solemn, "That's the parent in her."
"Alphonse," Hawkeye finally broke into the conversation, "you said that Winry's shoes and tool case were thrown from a military car?"
"Yeah," Al glanced over to the Major, the deep seriousness of her voice was in contrast to the cautious nature of all other questions given by the other officers, "Mrs. Hughes found them in a shop and on the street."
Her brow tightening, Hawkeye folded her arms across her chest, "Unless the vehicle was stolen, assuming that the car's occupants were officers, why discard those items?"
Sheska glanced beyond Al and Roy to the Major, "Winry probably tried to use them to hit whomever was in the car with her. That case would leave a hole in someone's skull."
"Shoes too?" Riza added flatly.
"Depends on how hard she hit'em."
"Then there should be a broken window," beyond the look Mustang carried, Havoc carried the most daunting expression within the gathering.
Al sat up in his seat, turning his attention over to the Lieutenant, "There was a broken window; the shop owner had his window broken."
"That's not what I meant," Havoc shook his head, leaning forward, "I meant, a broken car window. Was there glass in the street?"
Wrinkling his face, Al remained silent, trying to recall if Mrs. Hughes had specified.
"If you're trying to subdue your occupant…" Havoc verbally mulled over his train of thought, "where do you find the time to unroll the window and toss belongings from the car? Something like that would be the least of your concerns. Subsequently, if it is Winry throwing these items at her attackers, the window wouldn't be unrolled and her tool case would have broken the glass on the way out."
"If the attackers are military officers, they should be trained well enough that it should be common sense not to discard evidence so carelessly," Breda added, his frown matching the looks many of the officers had begun to wear, "Especially those sorts of identifiable items."
"Unless they were deliberately discarded in plain sight," Roy's posture stiffened at the direction the thought progression was traveling, "Then, we have either a stolen military vehicle out there, a vehicle with a broken window, or…"
Attention in the room turned over to the door as a gentle knock landed on the wood. The most amusing thing about the noise at the door was the young voice of Elysia that came with it.
Mustang glanced to the sounds, "Come in."
It was day two. This one was far more awkward than the previous. The day before, Edward's father had missed every appointment, every meal, every radio program; every habitual engagement the man went through in his daily routine. Edward developed a theory in London that he could time his pocket watch by some of the things his father did. For a second night in a row he had not even shown up to mess the sheets on his bed, nor had he been there in the morning when Edward woke up once more.
Sitting on his father's desk unable to concentrate on the mind-numbing task of sorting through a diminishing stack of paperwork, Ed had spent the mid-day on the phone. He returned the favour his father's friends had bestowed upon him over the weekend.
And so Edward called, and called, and called. Many numbers simply came with no answer, while other calls were only answered by wives and children declaring that their husbands and father's were not home or out of town.
As it was with every one of them…
Every one of them that had anything to do with this Thule Society, that is.
Anyone else not involved in this societal cult simply had no idea where his father had gotten to; just as devoid of knowledge and awareness as Edward found himself wading through. He would not have pursued the issue with much vigor if it had not been for the absence of all his father's Thule contacts, and only them.
Finally Edward said 'Screw it!' to the schoolwork and left the university swelling with his discontent.
He drove the car his father had left behind into the heart of the city, glaring off into space. Ed eventually gave up on the joy ride; leaving the vehicle in a lot, he adorned his coat and took a trip with the fall breeze through the open market. The groceries his father had gone shopping for days ago did not end up in the house. He eventually ventured out to the Oberth's to return some papers, but declined the invitation to stay for dinner. The sun was setting earlier than previous days and had left nothing but fading twilight as well as a sore leg by the time he had returned to the car.
Taking himself back home, Ed stood silent at his front door beneath the darkened porch light, bags dropped at his feet. The door was not closed. He clearly remembered locking the door because he had to run back inside to get his keys; this was not his carelessness. A weak light filtered out from beyond the kitchen and study windows. He knew better, if his father were home and Edward was not, the porch light would be on. Ed took his shoes off at the doorstep, and left them there.
He was glad the front door didn't creak as he pushed it open into the silent house, the only source of light coming from within the living room down the hall. His father's shoes were not on the mat, nor was his coat in the open closet. Ed's hand slipped into his jacket pocket as he moved his socked feet silently along the floor. Cupping his hand around his keys to keep them silent, he flipped out a small key from the bundle in his pocket and stepped up to the table the phone sat upon. His eyes focused down the hall, listening intently for any sounds as he opened up the drawer beneath the tabletop and slowly produced the handgun from within.
The thud he heard come from down the hall added caution to the approach Ed made. The closer he came, the quicker he realized that the sounds of movement were not emanating from the living room, but from his father's attached study.
Edward held to the wall as he stalked his way towards the wide open door leading into the study. Leaning against the wall, he could make out clearly that someone was going through the desk drawers with little care. Scowling, he adjusted the gun within his left fingers and took a deep breath.
"Hold it!" Ed squared off in the doorframe, his jacket flaring out around himself as he held his left arm firmly out in front of himself, a cross expression on his face.
"Good lord!" Hess' arms shot up and away from anything he was touching.
"What are you doing…?" Ed's expression lifted in surprise.
"Put that down!" Hess chirped back at him.
Ed's armed hand swung down at his side, "What do you think you're doing in here? How did you get in my house?"
"Your dad gave me his keys," as if nothing had just happened, Hess returned to rummaging through the desk once again.
Edward narrowed an eye somewhat annoyed, "And why are you here and he's not?"
"He asked me to pick up a few things for him," Hess' hand came down upon a stack of papers upon Hohenheim's desk.
Glancing to the side in confusion, Ed began to scratch his cheek, "And he had to send you to do that? Where's he been anyways?"
"He said he didn't want to leave, he didn't trust Max enough to – ah! There it is!" Hess added another set of papers to the pile.
"So… where is he?"
Hess momentarily gave his attention to Edward, "Hohenheim said you probably weren't going to be worried about him."
"I'm not worried about him; he's a big man, he can take care of himself. I am just curious why he'd take off and why every other Thule member seems to be missing as well. It looks suspicious," Ed's gaze narrowed back at Hess' mused look.
"Lets see," Hess tapped his chin as he ran his wording through his mind, "some internal matters came up, we required everyone to join us at the cathedral, and we've been there debating our internal matters ever since. Nothing too serious. Everyone took a few hours later in the afternoon today to go home before we reconvene for the night, Hohenheim said he wanted to stick around but asked me to get some things for him."
Raising an eyebrow, Ed decided to test how far he could get into the waters, "What sort of internal matters?"
"Well now," Hess scanned over the spines of the books on one of the shelves along the wall, "I'd like to tell you, but you're not internal. Sorry Edward."
Seems he wasn't going to get too far. Edward shrugged at the answer and turned out of the room, "Whatever."
"Oh hey! These two are side by side, great!"
Ed glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Hess' voice as he wandered to put the firearm away, "Let me know when you're done pillaging my house, okay?"
"Done right now, actually," Hess called back as he stuffed the two books and papers into his bag to follow in Edward's wake out of the study.
"Good," he muttered under his breath while locking the drawer. He turned his attention to Hess as the man swiftly made his way past Edward.
"Didn't mean to startle you so much Edward," Hess said as he turned back in the front door, "when I get a chance, we'll get some people together for drinks, okay?"
Ed waved his hand dismissively, "Make sure you shut the door on your way out."
The sentence had barely finished before the door swung shut in Hess' rushed exit. Ed shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling generally annoyed, and marched back towards the study, "He didn't even take off his shoes."
At his own words, Ed did not loose a stride as he spun on his heels to retrieve his shoes and bags of groceries. Slipping back through the house, he left his baggage in the hall and moved into the doorway of the study once again. Ed looked around unimpressed at the minor mess Hess had not bothered to clean. Holding a firm scowl, he never made it far enough into the room to deal with the open boxes and displaced clutter. Ed stared out from the corner of his eye at the space left by the two missing books Hess had taken.
"Why these…?" he turned to face the string of alchemy texts that had been picked from.
The collective emotions of the sweating faces and shaken heads at the Magic Flowers technique passed down through the Armstrong family for generations could not challenge the delighted squealing of young Elysia Hughes as she stood on her chair next to the towering Lt. Colonel Armstrong.
Swinging his massive arm around, bouquet in hand, Armstrong turned the flowers over to young Elysia, "For a beautiful young lady."
Roy rubbed his temple and Riza's narrowed eyes monitored the vein developing on his forehead.
Elysia's voice squealed as she gleefully took them into her arms, "Thank you, Sir!"
Obscuring if she felt any embarrassment or not, Ms. Hughes plucked her daughter off the seat and held the imp in her lap, "I think that's enough, Elysia."
"Mummy…!"
"We should let Mr. Armstrong help Mr. Mustang and Alphonse find Winry. It's important that we find her," Gracia's eyes shifted from her daughter to the Brigadier General, "glass in the street?"
Eyes glanced over to Havoc who filled the remaining empty seat at the table, "Not from the shop window, but in the middle of the street," the Lieutenant was finally able to add, "like from a broken car window."
Shaking her head, Gracia thought back to earlier in the day, "No, the streets were clean. The shop owner didn't mention anything either."
Armstrong folded his arms, wrinkling his shining forehead; "It is a bit much to expect the city to have cleaned up the street by the morning if there had not been an accident of some kind."
"Falman, Breda," Mustang's ensuing words had already been interpreted as the men rose from their seats, "see if this shop owner has anything more to offer us."
Pulling at her mother's fingers, Elysia finally slipped from her lap. Ducking under the table of curious onlookers as the two officers ducked out of the room, Elysia reappeared between Mustang's wary gaze and Al. She pulled her way onto Alphonse's lap.
"You have a bad face again today."
"Huh?" Al raised an eyebrow at the seriousness Elysia spoke with, "I'm just thinking about where we might find Winry, that's all."
"Thinking makes bad faces like that?" the little girl wrinkled her nose.
"Sometimes."
Elysia huffed, folding her arms as she turned in Al's lap to look up at him squarely, "Then don't think!"
Al gave a laugh at the sincerity behind her off-the-wall statement, "Well, I have to think. Its just lots of bad thoughts that make bad faces like that."
There those eyes were again, watching him. The feeling was far gentler than the piercing curiosity of an hour ago. He couldn't help but wonder what they thought of him.
"Hmm…" a proud grin suddenly grew across Elysia's face, "congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!"
Roy pushed out of his chair; Al glancing over as he did so, only to catch the subtle concern in Hawkeye's gaze as she watched the Brigadier General walk over to his desk.
Al looked back to Elysia, "… Congratulations?"
"Daddy told me that the more someone said 'congratulations' to you, the more good things will happen to you. Even Winry knows that!"
Al lifted his eyes from Elysia, looking across the table to Mrs. Hughes. Her gaze had softened, turning her eyes away in thought; a distant smile developing across her face as she leaned back in her seat. Al finally scanned the expressions upon the faces of the officers Elysia had sombered.
"Sgt. Major Fury," like a thunderclap, Mustang's voice broke the silence, "head downstairs and get vehicle information from the logs. See if anything matches up with last night's incidents. Lieutenant Ross, please return to your duties. Lt. Colonel, escort Alphonse, Mrs. Hughes and her daughter back to their vehicle. Mrs. Hughes, we'll keep you advised with what we turn up. I don't know if it would be appropriate for anyone in my office to relay information to Alphonse directly, so if you could remain in contact with him?"
Al's brow knit together at the sudden declaration of orders, "I'd actually been thinking about asking Mr. Mitchell if I could stay with Mrs. Hughes."
Roy's expression began to lift as Gracia stood up from the table, "I don't mind at all, we have a spare room and Elysia would have some more company."
The little girl's arms flung into the air, "Yay!"
"Perhaps time will have softened the Prime Minister's stance on Alphonse's observation," Roy said in thought before the stern tone returned to his demeanour, "Lieutenant Havoc, would you continue to warm my chair. Major, you're with me. Something should be done with our evidence before too much time elapses."
Alphonse's wary eyes followed Mustang as the man blew past where he sat, barely giving Major Hawkeye enough time to get to her feet and follow in stride. Like a gust of wind, the door blew shut behind the two as they abandoned the office.
"Sir?" Riza moved swiftly to catch up with her superior, "you left your–"
"It's not needed," Roy said harshly as he began his decent down the stairs without his cane.
Matching his hindered pace two steps behind, Riza withheld her disapproval of her superior's stubborn insistence that he could manage just fine in his current physical condition.
"Major," Mustang's poise never waned, "we'll re-evaluate Mrs. Curtis' case until something can be uncovered with Miss. Rockbell. Two missing people is excessive for that young Elric."
Riza's footsteps vanished. The sudden absence of her echo brought Mustang to a halt.
"You didn't ask…" her voice unsettled him; a long sigh escaped from his lips as Riza's footsteps began to echo from her own decent, "… about Ed."
"Miss. Rockbell and Mrs. Curtis are higher priorities," Roy's decent down the flights of stairs resumed, his jacket floating out behind from a weak updraft within the stairwell, "it seems FullMetal's given us a great deal of time to discuss his circumstances at a later date."
The echo of Hawkeye's footsteps began to move in time with Mustang's. The silence she left him with became a worse entity than the echo of any words could have been.
Roy's voice called back, wanting to step out from the looming cloud, "How many times did Elysia convey Maes' 'well wishings'?"
"Three," the officers took the last step from the stairwell.
"Very well then," moving down the final stretch of hall before the building exit, a formidable grin crossed Mustang's face, "let's see if we can't find three things to give that boy some answers."
"I'll guarantee one, Sir," Hawkeye did not even have to utter the words; there had come a point in time when the information had become crystal clear in the Brigadier General's mind, "whomever drove that vehicle is steering us astray."
"You performed… a transmutation?" Ed slit his eyes, grossly unimpressed by the tale, "a transmutation with that?" Ed's finger shot to the etched centrepiece of the Thule Society hall as his disgust rolled off his tongue.
The emphatic disbelief in his voice was disregarded by the man, "Dietrich bought me dinner that night, and the first words out of his mouth to your father when he arrived was 'I told you so!'. Hohenheim's been such a grouch ever since, he doesn't want to believe me."
"Mr. Amann, your story is ridiculous," Ed snorted, looking directly at the man who'd allowed him access to the Thule hall. He'd given himself a day to mull over Hess' words, behaviour, and anything he could connect into the situation. He had no reason to doubt Hess, however he could think of no reason Hohenheim would request knowledge from an alchemy book that should be in his head already. By the next evening Ed decided to venture out to the old part of the city where the Thule hall stood. Within the main church hall, Edward had found Max Amann sitting alone, his hands clasped as he prayed in thanks to whatever God he thought he should believe in. He came to learn quickly that Amann was the only one around during this evening hour; he could not bear to part with his 'gift'. Not caring enough to want to know why, Ed asked the two most pressing questions on his mind:
What was going on?
When did the vandalism to the cathedral windows happen?
According to Amann, Ed was supposed to be in awe of the story he was told; the one about how he created life from within the confines of the defunct alchemy circle. Right. He wanted to be regarded as some sort of God. The longer Amann carried on with his tale, the quicker Edward discovered that the transmutation story was more desirable than anything the man added after the fact.
Straightening his jacket, Ed continued to shake his head as he walked the parameter path around the circle. He gave no response; he simply absorbed the fresh air leaking in from the shattered windows.
"Deitrich, Adolf and I were on the mark when we drafted that design," the pride danced about in his voice.
Looking down from the corner of his eye into the engraved cement, Edward's eyebrow rose as he knelt down, "Do you smoke, Mr. Amann?"
"I do, did you want one?"
Ed ran his pinky finger along the etching, picking at the grooves, "Do you smoke in here?"
Amann rolled his words out slowly, "Many do…"
Sitting back on his knees, Ed sniffed the pinky finger and cast his distrusting gaze up at Amann once again, "Do you know what this stuff is in these grooves, Mr. Amann?" the blank look on the man's face was sufficient, "this is magnesium powder."
"What's so special about that?"
Ed rolled his eyes muttering something about how any 'alchemist' should know what he's talking about, "You know… magnesium gets used in bombs, for fireworks and flashy things at carnivals. That match you use to light your cigarette could do pretty decent damage to the room."
Amann's nose curled up, obviously insulted by the statement, "Are you implying something, Mr. Elric?"
"Not really," Ed stood up, a half smile on his face, "just sharing some alchemy hints."
"I'll have you know there was not enough magnesium to fill a salt shaker," Amann folded his arms, his voice growing aggressive from Ed's visual amusement.
"So, you did have some around?"
"No, that trespassing little girl taking photographs had the magnesium."
"…What?"
"She was using it for her camera flash."
"She what…?" the startled tremor in Ed's voice had been unintentional.
"Some child with some fancy photography setup," the man's eyes narrowed as he watched Edward tense, "she broke in; she was an intruder. No one accesses this place without permission. Not only was she taking pictures of our most sacred location, but she vandalized the church property to get in, she lied when I questioned her about her actions, and… what right does any woman have coming in here? I shot the wretched thing where she stood; obviously her parents give no care for her. We can't allow a girl with such a disrespectful disposition growing up in our Germany, she had no idea where her place was."
The voice absorbed through Edward's skin, standing within the room numb as the remaining echo scattered around him, "I told her not to…" his voice too shallow to be heard.
Pointing up into the cathedral dome, the man's smirk widened, "barely moments after the girl collapsed…"
Edward's gaze could have killed.
"… every one of these sigil lines glowed such a powerful white no electrician could have matched the intensity. No magnesium powder could have come close. The energy began to electrify the poor thing; the current was so strong you could clearly make out every strand of conduction flowing within the chaos. I remember I could see how the current conducted through her veins; it lit up her teeth and fingernails, the whites of the girl's eyes were shining through her eyelids. The winds began to circulate as the current intensified and it began to deconstruct the girl before the explosion blew me from my feet. Those windows all shattered from the explosion; it was so powerful not a single shard of glass remained in the frame. So much of the tapestry has to be replaced."
Ed's good fist clenched so hard his knuckles whitened; he tightened his jaw, slowly making his approach with a darkening shadow growing over his face, "You… disgusting…"
Max Amann read Edward's intentions like an open book, taking a defiant position against his advance, "Oh Mister righteous defender of the dignity of life, grow up for me please. I'm tired of listening to you dispute, challenge and moralize the things I've done these last few days. Not only did I perform a transmutation, I performed a human transmutation!"
"You… murdered that girl!"
"I performed a human transmutation on that girl. I created a Goddess from that dead body, she came back to life after I stole her from heaven."
"Like hell you did! You shot that girl, for WHAT reason? Cause she invaded your little party?" his enraged voice tore out to fill the room; yet, it had been the gun holster he'd spotted on the man earlier that kept Edward from charging forward fist first.
Ed threw the man's attention the circle within the room, "Alchemy is just another code name for magic here; it has no power. That circle is an eyesore and you are still standing. Do you have any idea how a human transmutation works? Where's your sacrifice, your personal sacrifice?"
The darkened shadows upon Amann's face lit the whites of his eyes with rancour at Ed's ranting. He did not respond to the provocations.
Ed finally scoffed at the man's silence, "This is a sacred place for you and your friends; these people's thinking is so backwards of course they'd buy a Goddess story from a waste of space like you. How dare you claim your society to be some superior echelon of humanity when you unload your gun on a child."
"Watch your tongue, boy, it's liable to be cut out," the man's eyebrow twitched under the shadows of the hall, "your father has seen my Goddess; I cannot say that any one man's profoundly overwhelmed expression has ever given me such pleasure."
"Shut the hell up."
"I want to capture that same look in your eyes," the man turned, reaching for a door handle along the parameter of the hall, "a boy as smart as you believe you are should know better than to turn his back on this opportunity."
Ed read into the underlying threat within the statement, casting his bitterly curled gaze towards the now smirking man.
"Alphonse?" Gracia's soft voice drew his attention, "are you okay? You haven't said a word the whole car ride."
Al shrugged lightly, tilting his head back against the headrest, "Today was weird, I was thinking about it."
"What was so weird about it?"
Frowning in thought, Al twisted his face as he tried to form an explanation, "I don't know, maybe it wasn't what I expected. There were a lot of people in the room and no one really asked too many questions; they just sort of… stared. It was awkward."
Surprising Al, Gracia started to giggle, "I think everyone's just trying to get use to your blonde hair and grey eyes. I'm sure once everyone gets comfortable with this, you'll be able to ask some of the questions you have of them, and they can ask you things in return. Equivalent exchange, correct?"
Al's sheepish grin swept across him, "I suppose that's true. It did take a while to get comfortable around people in Resembool too. At least we did some talking before you arrived."
Taking a moment to glance over her shoulder to make sure her daughter was still wrapped up in the colouring book, Gracia pulled her attention back to Alphonse, "What did you talk about?"
"Well…" Al folded his arms, "I guess Mr. Mustang and Ms. Hawkeye have been trying to find Sensei even without me asking. He said that the police do have jurisdiction, but he was conducting a private investigation. I asked him if he'd found anything helpful but he didn't share too much, he said Klose's father had been difficult when he gave statements, so there'd been problems. He didn't have much to tell me."
"I have no doubt something will turn up," Gracia's soft voice emerged as her hand brushed his hair smooth, "I cannot think of anyone better than the Brigadier General and Major Hawkeye to help you find Izumi and Winry."
Al nodded slowly, drifting into a thought that lingered above all else; beyond finding Winry, beyond finding Sensei, the task of finding his brother laid waiting.
"You'd better get going," Gracia broke Al's concentration, "Mr. Mitchell is a nice man, but when I spoke to him on the phone, he seemed a little upset that you'd disappeared and not come back to his office for anything."
Pushing the car door open, Al spoke as he stepped out of the car, "Don't worry, I'll apologize for worrying him."
Gracia dispensed the mothering finger of insistence as she pointed at him, "Make sure you do that."
"Yes ma'am."
"Bye bye Al!" Elysia poked her head out the open car window, an arm waving frantically.
"Bye bye Elysia," Al's amusement with her brightness never vanished. Taking the handle of the car door, Al hesitated before closing it, "Mrs. Hughes, " he looked back to her in the car, "I'll find a good time to talk to Mr. Mitchell about staying with you."
The most rewarding point in Alphonse's day was the warmth Gracia's smile filled his body with, "Give me a call whenever you need to."
"Yep," Al shut the car door and turned into the courtyard. His ears listened as the car's wheels spun away. Al couldn't figure himself out, the best way he could describe his day so far was 'uncomfortable' and 'uneasy', so why did he feel lighter with each step. The comfort in that sensation made him smile.
"Couldn't you cooperate in the slightest way?"
The bitter little voice stopped Al in mid step. The moment he turned to where the noise had originated from, his eyes fell upon the two children playing in the grass. Holding his hair off his face as the light breeze swept by, Al finally associated the voice with the child in red shirt and jean coveralls: Nina. He watched as little Nina tossed the rubber ball into the air, only to have it bounce in the grass for her companion to catch on the hop.
"Now, bounce it as high as you can," Nina's finger pointed high in the air, "we don't go back inside until you do something right."
Al watched as he crossed into the soft green grass towards the pair. Slowly growing confused, Al focused on the girl, obviously several years older than Nina and maybe even himself, dressed in a plain knee length orange sundress. She simply extended her arms and dropped the ball into the grass in front of herself.
"You're doing this deliberately, aren't you?" Nina rolled her eyes as her hands came to rest on her hips.
"Miss."
The nurse's voice was loud enough to catch both Nina and Alphonse's attention. Al stopped, glancing into the overhanging shade of a tree within the yard, where the woman sat upon a blanket, a book in hand.
"Young Alphonse is here to join us."
Nina looked out towards Al, swaying her hips from side to side, "Hi Alphonse."
"Hi," he began to move towards the pair once more, his feet leaving imprints in the golf course perfect grass as he walked, "what are you playing?"
"A girls game," Nina ran the few feet forward to pick up the multi coloured ball, "no boys in this game."
Al's eyebrows rose at the unwelcoming statement, quickly turning his attention over to Nina's playmate, realizing she was watching him. Why was it every bone in his body told him to disregard everything the little girl said? He eyed her playmate curiously; her short blonde hair hung around her head in waves of washed out curls. The potent hue of her blue eyes shone out despite how badly she squinted under the sun. Something bothered him, and he thought perhaps it was how heat stricken she looked.
Her hand came up slowly as the two shared the gaze with each other, wiping the sweat away from the sides of her face.
"Are you okay?" Al asked, stepping closer.
The girl stiffened where she stood, her nose wrinkling as an indignant look crossed her face in disapproval of Al's approach.
"She was running to catch the ball earlier, that's why she looks tired," Nina's voice shot out, stiff and cold, "and she doesn't want boys in this game either, just look at her face!"
"She looks like she needs a drink," Al glanced between the two girls, his voice strong in his challenge to the child's persistence, "shouldn't she go inside and get something?" he turned back to Nina's playmate, "do you want something to drink?"
Again, there was no response, just the defiant glare the older girl continued to defend herself with.
"She won't answer you, we believe she may be autistic," it was the nurse who stepped up to join the children, her book held firm in once hand, a glass of juice in the other, "she seems quite content to be outside in the sun without something drink, despite how it may look." Extending her hand, the woman placed the glass under the girl's nose, an action that promptly had the girl slapping the glass to the ground.
"See?"
Bending down to pick up the glass, Al gave a harsh look to the nurse as he straightened himself, "Maybe if you didn't hold it under her nose, she'd drink it."
"Does not matter where I put it, the reaction is the same," she snatched the empty container away.
"And she was playing ball with me, but now she won't do that either," Nina turned her nose into the air, "and I thought we could be really good friends too."
"The nurse is busy doing things with Diana and my friend. I was helping her, but I got bored; I wanted to do something else."
Slowly shaking his head at the sudden memory, Al turned his attention to Nina's 'friend'. Making no attempt to lessen the concern written across his face, Al added a soft touch to his voice and smiled, "Did you want to go inside? You look really hot. Maybe you'd rather have some water instead of juice?" he extended a hand for her to take; only to have his wrist sharply snatched up by the nurse.
She spun Alphonse on his heels to face her, slapping his arm down at his side, "Social services left her in my care, not in your inexperienced hands. I would suggest–"
Al startled as he suddenly felt a hot and sweaty palm close around his right hand. Turning slowly, his peripheral vision caught the girl standing at his shoulder.
Looking out from the corners of her eyes, she made sure she caught and held Alphonse's gaze as if to communicate. Cautiously, she turned her attention towards Nina and the nurse once more, examining the startled reactions the two displayed by her acceptance of Al's presence.
"Entschuldigen Sie… wenn ich unterbreche."
"… Huh?" Al turned over his shoulder, eyes wide with confusion, instantly oblivious to the startled expressions upon the other's faces. "What did you say?" Al did not let go of her hand; he could feel the tremble within her touch and connected it to what lay beyond the deliberately stiff expression.
"Los," she took a step back, looking over towards the house as she pulled on Alphonse's arm, "wir wollen gehen."
Nina's arms folded across her chest slowly as the nurse's hand came to rest on her shoulder. The little girl's voice swept out in a whisper, "Is that it…?"
Alphonse ran what he could for her 'words' through his head, standing silent under the sun as he tried to see through what was going on. It wasn't until her free hand came up and flicked him on the cheek that Alphonse found himself moving towards the house with her.
"Na los, " her voice lowered as they walked, a cautious glance given back to the remaining pair standing in the useless afternoon breeze.
"I suppose there's no harm in letting her wander within the house," the nurse's frozen gaze turned down to Nina.
"Not now, anyways. She can't tell him anything," Nina shrugged, brushing her hair over her shoulders as she bent down to pick up the ball once more. A malevolent smile crawled across her face as she began to saunter towards the house.
It was like no sickness he'd ever experienced, his stomach felt as though it could tear itself apart. His heart raced so quickly and his breathing dipped so shallow he thought he might pass out. The feeling numbed Edward to the world around him.
"She's perfect," the man's words rang from his mouth like a poorly tuned instrument, stinging within Edward's ears, "God gave her back to me better than how she was before."
The door clicked shut. Upon a table in the corner of the room a tiny candle tossed the pale resemblance of light around, emitting distorted patterns as it passed through the half full glass of water next to it. Amann passed Edward by with a nipping breeze, moving within a room tucked away in the cold basement cave of the Thule cathedral.
She was a doll.
A doll dressed in a white cotton gown and nothing more.
At the left corner of the room, she lay on her side atop the bed sheets; she was turned away from the room to face the wall, showing now interest in their intrusion.
Amann sat down at the edge of the bed; his eyes held a corrupted admiration of a father looking upon his newborn child, "So perfect; her skin is unblemished, a perfect shade of ivory white," Ed could not subdue the uncontrollable twitch that overtook his fingers as he re-clenched his good hand; watching as the man's fingers reach beyond where he could see clearly and brush over her cheek. Finally the errant hand swept over her neck to her shoulder, brushing the long strands of hair from shielding her arms, "this hair she hides her shoulders behind is like touching the silky lengths of what I would find on an infant's soft scalp. I wish I could never let it go. It shines like white gold." The carefree hand slipped uncontested under her arm; trickling down her side as he traced her outline, "she has such a perfect curve for such a young woman…"
So wrapped up in his own words and what he held in his eyes, the man never heard the sound of each approaching step Edward made.
Just simply be a doll.
The hand finally came to rest at the highest point on the curve of her hip before sweeping out of Ed's sight once more, "She's well endowed and her hips are so strong; she's built perfectly to bear children…"
Amann's eyes finally lifted as Edward's hand reached out and closed a ruthless grasp around the man's wrist, preventing him preceding any father. The man allowed his arm to be limp in Ed's hold as he stood in contest of the man's violation; the yellow within his eyes set ablaze with a rage that refused to form words.
"What?" the cockiness of the voice curled the hairs on the back of Edward's neck before he felt the muscles stiffen in the arm he held, "are you still in awe of the Goddess I created from that budding girl or do you want to–"
It was a move made faster than Edward himself realized he could have accomplished; Amann suddenly finding himself flat on his back upon the bed, Ed's knee on his chest at his throat, pinning the daring right hand into the mattress, "Did you hurt her?"
Please be a doll.
"What sort of question is that?" by the quiver traipsing through Ed's words, a mused grin grew across the man's face realizing how easily Edward could be provoked. Realizing any answer would upset Edward further, his words leaked out with malicious undertones, "And if I did, do you think there'd be anything you could do about it?"
As Ed drew back his mechanical arm, the figure upon the bed moved suddenly, sliding along the mattress away from the pair; her sudden movements diverting Ed's attention. The opening Ed had allowed was instantly taken, and Amann ripped his hand free of the grasp as he tried to force his oppressor away. The moment Edward felt the man's fat fingers reach up to grip around his neck; he reared the fisted right arm back once more and crushed it down with every bit of boiling rage that had spilled over. He paid as little attention to the sound the man's face made upon connection as he did to the snapping sounds of fingers on his metal hand.
The room fell silent in wake of the echoes.
The moment the hand dropped away from his neck, Edward shoved the limp body unceremoniously off the end of the bed and stepped off the mattress into the chill of the basement room once again. His shaken gaze ventured back to a figure he begged would vanish if he simply shut his eyes. It was so foolish of him to even try it; but for a moment, he thought 'why not?'
He watched her, huddled up in the corner of the bed against the cement wall; her knees pulled up under the white gown, bare toes pinching the end of the gown beneath her feet. Her arms wrapped around her knees pulled tight against her chest; head buried in the confines of those arms, untied lengths of blonde hair flowing down around her.
"… Winry…?"
Not a doll.
Slowly, a tired set of clear blue eyes lifted to peer out from beyond the concealing arms.
His shoulders sank; the broken look that bled out from her gaze allowed the sick feeling to sweep over once more.
"… How?"
Edward's feet scraped forward across the cement floor before he came to sit on the edge of the bed in front of her. A thousand questions clouded his thoughts, obscuring some of the most burning questions churning between his ears…
Except one, "Are you okay?"
Her head slowly lifted from the protection of her arms; she did not reply.
"You're not hurt anywhere?" Edward's head ached, "no one's hurt you at all…?"
The moment Ed's hand reached out for her, Winry's shrill scream tore out, echoing within the dampened acoustics of the cement walls.
"Don't touch me!" she slapped Edward's startled hand away, "go away! Don't touch me!"
It was then he understood his mistake; so shaken he had not even realized what he'd done until she'd spoken. A nervous smile pushed onto his face as he spoke in clear English for her, "Sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"Shut up!" the shrill pinch of her voice was sharper than the chill of the cement walls, "don't talk to me. You're not real," her trembling hands came up to grip over her ears as she did everything in her power not to make eye contact, "you're not real, this isn't real."
"Winry…"
"Go away, I have to wake up," the palms of her hands slapped her cheeks, "I'll wake UP!" the scream pushed Ed back, far more disturbed by her behavior than he had been by the other occurrences in the last hour, "I'll wake up eventually, I swear I will. I'm going to wake up and stand under the sun for hours, because burning under the sun is a far better fate than freezing to death. I refuse to freeze to death."
That's right, the room was cold, even for him; and he'd spent five years getting use to the chill of the world.
Ed's hand swept his bangs from his face, holding them at the top of his head. He tried to think, he needed something to say, something to calm her down. Nothing Edward thought of sufficed; it almost felt nostalgic, she was such a struggle for him to talk to.
"Just go away."
"Winry," Ed tried to extend his hand again, "I promise you this nightmare is a lot better when we're not down here. We can have some hot soup to warm you up and go shopping for stuff for the shop; it'll be my treat, just like always," he watched as she unsuccessfully tried to burry herself father into the corner of the bed, "come on, let's go somewhere else."
"GO AWAY!" again she slapped at his reaching hand, only to find herself screaming in fright at his sudden grasp around her right wrist.
"Stop screaming Winry!" Ed yelled back at her in protest of the piercing voice she used as a defence.
The back of her left hand struck sharply across Ed's face, jarring his head awkwardly to the side, "You're NOT Ed!"
No sooner had the words left her lips than Ed's hands had gripped her at the sides of her face. Winry's screaming stopped the moment her hands gripped his intruding reach; the texture of an AutoMail arm, regardless of quality, was not something she could mistake.
"Look at me!"
Winry's eyes continued to scan what she could see of his false arm. Though the metallic hand gripped her left cheek, she could not help but concern herself with why she could feel pressure from only two of the four fingers.
"I said look at me!" a desperate commanding voice called out from Ed's throat. His thumbs hooked under her chin, snapping her head up so he could look at her straight on. The twisting feeling returned to the pit of his stomach, unable decide which hurt more; the sound of her scream in fear of him, or watching the tears run down her cheeks while she looked back at him.
"Edward Elric, what do you think you are doing?"
His head shot over his shoulder towards the door, he had missed the sound of it opening.
"What on Earth…?" Hess pushed past the other Thule members standing around the doorway and rushed to the pile Amann lay in upon the floor.
Ed cautiously returned to his feet, shifting his gaze between Winry and the gathering of men.
"What the hell do you think you are doing, Edward?" Dietrich's raging voice commanded the Elric's attention, "who let you down here and how did you get into this room?"
"What are you doing with her down here?" Ed's voice carried steadily and emotionless as he pointed to Winry. The longer Ed waited for a response, the more the silent answer annoyed him.
Hess glanced up from Amann, being the only one to carry an astonished tone to his voice, "He's unconscious. Edward, what did you hit him with?"
"My fist," Ed's response carried no compassion.
"Hohenheim get over here!" Dietrich bellowed over his shoulder, "get your son out of here before I rip that arm out of his shoulder."
"I'm not leaving without her," Ed stood squarely in the middle of the room, defiance written clearly across his face.
"Are you an idiot?" Dietrich raged, "God graced us with such a beautiful young woman and you think I'm going to just let her walk out with the delinquent son of the only man in our membership who still doubts what Amann and I accomplished…" Dietrich's eyes shot to Hohenheim as he stepped up next to him, "… I should have you shot for even being down here."
Wrapped in the same black robe as the others gathering at the door, Hohenheim's cold gaze fell upon Dietrich, "But you're not going to do that," the look drifted over to Edward who continued his defiance, stiffening his posture as his father's angered gaze cut into him.
"Get out Edward."
"What is wrong with you? How long has she been here?" Edward's bitter stance felt insignificant compared to the power in his father's words.
Hohenheim's jaw tightened, "Speak in German, your English is going to cause more problems."
Ed's eyes narrowed with insolence, "Didn't I tell you to go to hell not too long ago?"
Hohenheim's response was held back by his own pause while he scanned the occupants of the room, "It isn't a stretch for me to say we're already there," he watched his son's stance loosen at the words.
Dietrich swung his raging voice into Hohenheim's face, "It's not that hard, just grab him by the hair and haul him on his ass out of the room," though he tried to storm forward, Hohenheim's hand gripped tightly at Dietrich's upper arm to hold him back. Further enraged, he whipped around to counter Hohenheim's unwavering poise, "Unhand me, I'll deal with your boy like the man he thinks he is; especially if he thinks that metal arm can put me down too."
Ed turned his wrinkled nose into the air as he narrowed his eyes, "Let's find out."
"Edward!" Hohenheim's voice snapped.
"Done," Dietrich turned sharply to face Ed, snapping his gun out from beneath the black robe he wore.
"Dietrich stop!" Hess yelled out.
It was not Hess's words that stopped him; it was Dietrich's sudden realization that Winry was standing behind Edward. Her hands resting on his shoulders, the chill from her touch seeped through the fabric of Ed's shirt to send shivers running through his skin. He found himself frozen where he stood, suddenly oblivious to the lowering handgun that had been pointed at him.
The animosity within the room evaporated instantly as the curious Thule eyes watched their guest move about; something they had not witnessed her do since the initial hours of her arrival.
"I have no idea what everyone's yelling about," the only one close enough to hear her whisper clearly was Ed.
"That's alright. It not very interesting," his lowered voice mirrored the pitch Winry had used.
Slowly, Winry walked a circle around him, her bare footsteps softly clapping off the cement, "Why are you so much taller than me?" It was the oddest sensation for her; she had to look up to see him.
"I had to grow eventually," neither knew the reason why the statement seemed so amusing; the corner of Ed's lips curled up at Winry's choked giggle.
Winry finally stepped back, a hand coming over her mouth as she turned away from Ed to see the gathering of men within the doorway. Scanning Dietrich, Winry's examination moved over the marvelling expression he wore and stopped at the lowered gun dangling in his fingers. The moment Dietrich realized that's what she was looking at; he quickly slipped it back under his robe.
Blinking at the swift action, Winry's gaze slid to Hohenheim. She knew his face, she knew who he was; she had even seen him within hours of being locked in the room after she'd tried to run away. He had not said a word to her the entire time; he'd only peeked in from time to time and kept the water in the glass full. There was no other set of peering eyes that interested her.
"Ed," his name had been the only thing she'd said that any of the Thule men had understood since her arrival. Turning an accusing gaze upon him, Winry watched as Ed's eyebrows rose at the sudden change in disposition.
"You've been doing something dangerous again, haven't you?"
It was a scripted response he'd always given her; it came in a package consisting of Ed's nervous grin and the raising of his hands in denial.
"It's nothing like that."
–
In Resembool, in Central, in Rush Valley, in Dublith, in all of Amestris… that's how the conversation went.
Winry would accuse.
Edward and Alphonse would deny.
Winry would sigh.
And life would go on.
–
This time, Winry would cry.
And Edward would have no idea what life thought it was doing.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes
Originally, everything spoken in English was going to be in italics on Ed's side… but that looked hideous. So, I used italics to distinguish when we were switching languages (unless I specified) or when I wanted you to know it was English without typing "… said in English…" x.x;
I claim German illiteracy on any errors the handy German phrase tool gave me. I've never spoken more than 3 words of the language in my life; I beg for forgiveness from German speakers if I butchered your language in what little I typed.
I think Winry is the best thing Ed could have around as Germany picks away at his sanity and morality; there's only so much Hohenheim can do, and there's a LOT his German acquaintances would never understand. Ed needs a fresh shot of something… he's been stuck in a European rut for 5 years o.o…
Besides which, I just mucked up his PoS AutoMail; someone's gotta fix it.
Finding new Thule members to throw into the story is proving difficult… information on anyone except the people I've already introduced and people who had left Thule by this time is really hard to come by. Well, for my purposes anyways. I couldn't find much on Max Amann, other than he was important and had strong ties to Hitler, so this works.
I had a cute little scene with Havoc and something to do with ladies underwear, as well as some really cute (and long) rant Ed had about Hohenheim's ritualistic behaviour that I couldn't fit in… I hope to get another chance to write those in XD
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