Beyond the Gate

By: Crystal Green

A/N: Here's the second chapter. And if I wrote something crazy or brake the laws of physics don't be alarmed. I wrote this around midnight last night because I couldn't sleep.

Wow! Another chapter finished! And in under just a few days too, that's a new record! So anyway, on with what I wanted to say:

PLEASE! Please! Someone comment! I want to know how well I'm doing with my first FMA fanfic. Is it good or not? Is it interesting or not? Do you like it? Does it make you want to read more? What? Come on guys and gals, if I don't get feed back and something really needs to be fixed about the characters or something, I can't fix it if you guys don't point it out to me! So please! At least one person give me feedback! please?

..:Flashback from last chapter:..

Master, the gate, it's still here!

Ahhhh!

Edward?

Brother?

Alphonse? Hu? My auto mail, I'm really here? But, does that mean the other Ed had to die? His life traded for mine?

Chapter 2: Lost in Thought

I opened my eyes to bright lights and had to blink a few times to get them adjusted to them. I saw that I was laying in a white bed with some equally white thin sheets over me. My right arm had an IV attached to it at the wrist and my left leg was in a cast. I didn't have a shirt on but I could feel that I did have some pants on which I was grateful that I had. That would be embarrassing to meet someone for the first time in my boxers. I also had bandages around my chest, neck and upper arm of both arms.

The room I was in was rather large. To the right of my bed there was a sink, and some cabinets, beyond that, a door. By the head of my bed on that same side was a table that was tall enough to slide over my bed easily. It had lots of flowers, cards, and other Misolanious things on it.

On the wall in front of me was an old photograph in black and white of some guy and his wife. It was set above a couple of wooden chairs that were in the left corner of the wall. There was also one of those small rolling stools that doctors usual sit on.

I can't really see what the hell's on the wall behind my bed but I assume there's just some more famous paintings or photographs like the other wall.

I turned my head to my left to see what was there. It hurt a hell of a lot worse than an extremely bad sunburn to move at all but I wanted to see what was there. A sand colored couch with all different kinds of bird designs was there. A man was lying on the couch as well. He had light burnet hair like Alphonse that was tied up in a ponytail and he had a gigantic brown trench coat on. It looked as if he were sleeping.

"D-dad?" I managed to say in a horse voice.

He didn't budge. Well, if he didn't move, that must have meant he was sleeping...or he just didn't hear me. I really wanted him to be awake so I could tell him what I saw. He probably wouldn't believe a word I said but I was just glad he was in the room.

Well, at least this gives me time to think about what the hell happened before I found myself in the fire. Who were that old lady and the blonde? What the hell was up with the suit of armor and what happened to the younger me to make him not have a right leg and left arm? Why was I shown those…visions? And why the hell did I wake up in a fire? Last thing I remember, I was walking down the street by a trashcan that was rusted and over filled and a boy that looked like me fell on me. My thoughts were interrupted by what looked like a nurse opening the door.

"Your awake. That's good." She said.

The nurse looked rather young, she had long blonde hair that was in a ponytail and one of those nurse's outfits on, a clipboard in her left hand, and a pen in the other.

"How are you feeling?" She asked in a sweet voice that matched her smile and blue eyes.

Why does she look like…?

"I'm fine." I said to her, again with my horse voice.

She walked up to me and put a thermometer in my mouth. She stood there, waiting till she heard a beep and took it out again, "99.6. Well, your fever has gone down. That's good. She wrote some stuff on her clipboard and checked my IV. "I'll have to come back later and replace this with a new one okay?"

"Okay." I said to her.

"The last thing I need to do is put lotion on your back."

"Hu?" I looked at her with a confused look.

"You don't remember what happened?" She picked up a bottle of lotion off the table with the flowers on it.

"I don't remember very much. All I remember is fire all around me. I can't remember how I got there or what happened."

"A Zeppelin got shot down and crash landed on you. Your dad and another person saved you. Your back was badly burnt, you have several broken ribs, back bones, and you have a broken leg."

"How come my voice is like this?"

"You got a sore throat from breathing in all that smoke and it hasn't healed up all the way yet. Now come on, let's get you to sit up."

She grabbed my right arm with her right arm and put her left hand under my head to help me sit up in the bed. The pain of my burn, broken ribs, and backbones was vehement as I sat up. The intensity of it made my eyes water which in turn made my vision blurry as well.

"Are you okay?" The teenaged nurse asked as a way of showing her condolence for my pain.

I shook my head 'Yes' to refrain from hearing my own raspy voice again but even doing something as simple as shaking my head triggered the burn on my neck to cause some pain. Not as much pain as sitting up did but as much pain as turning my head to see what was on the left side of me when I awoke.

When I stopped shaking from the pain she started unwrapping the bandages from my chest.

"So, what's your name?" The blonde pony-tailed nurse asked.

"You don't read the names of your patients?"

"That's the doctor's and nurse's jobs."

"But I thought you were a nurse."

She finished with my chest bandages and started unwrapping my right upper arm.

"No, I'm just a volunteer. I wanted to help my country like our men at war. My parents are doctors here so I decided this was where I'd help." She said as she started undoing my left upper arm.

"Now can you answer my earlier question?" The blonde asked

"Oh, sorry, I'm Edward."

"Hm, nice name," she finished with my left arm, "I'm Winery."

Winery grabbed the lotion and started rubbing it on my back.

"Jeeze that's cold!" I said as I shivered.

"Well, it is lotion silly, it would be cold."

It took her around ten minutes to put the lotion on the unbandaged wounds. She got off the bed and put the lotion away. She went over to the cubords next to the sink and grabbed something. I wasn't really interested in turning my head to see what she grabbed and cause myself more pain at the moment.

Winery walked over to me and sat back on the bed. When she started to wrap me back up with some new gauze, I realized that's what she must have taken out of the cubord. As she was wrapping me my back where she had just put the lotion on was starting to feel really itchy. I wanted to scratch really badly. It was like one of those moments where you couldn't move your body and all of a sudden your nose itches really bad for some reason. It's always your nose. Why is it your nose? Well, it's either that or your elbow. Anyway, back to the story.

Once she finished, she got off the bed, put the gauze away, said good bye and left.

"Nice girl hu?" I heard someone say.

I quickly turned my head to the direction of the voice. "Hu-ahh!" I pathetically shrieked and closed my eyes from the pain of turning my neck and moving the burnt unhealed skin on my back out of the placement it had just gotten used to. It didn't hurt as much as last time but that's only because of the lasting moisture that was introduced to my singed and dry skin not too long ago.

The pain subsided less than a minute later and I opened my eyes.

"Feeling better yet?" My dad said, still in the same position he was in earlier but this time he was awake.

"Dad." my raspy voice managed to say. I was really glad he was awake. Now I had someone to actually talk to. I greatly wanted to tell someone what I saw and I wasn't about to make a bad first impression to a volunteer who was supposed to be the one taking care of me and didn't have to worry about losing her job.

My dad sat up on the sofa, " You really had me worried."

"Sorry. I really had no intension of getting crushed by a Zeppelin today. So, how's mom taking it?"

My dad stared at me with a blank expression then he realized what I had just asked him, "Whoops!" he rubbed the back of his head with his right hand, "forgot to tell your mother..." He gave me one of those, I-did--stupid-again-didn't-I? Looks and put his arm down, "You've only been unconscious for four hours so we'll tell her later so she can smother you at home instead of embarrassing you in public."

"Heh, okay."

"Hmm," my dad gave a look of thought to the floor before saying to me, "Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember anything?"

"Hu? Remember what?"

"Do you remember how you got under the Zeppelin?"

No, I remember a boy with a metal arm and leg, I remember the younger mom, Al, and me, the country side house, the river, the blue light from the basement, the walking suit of armor, the old woman, the girl...

The girl...

Why did the volunteer look like the girl? Who was the girl, Winery? Who was that boy with the silver arm and leg? Where was I when it all went black?

I think I'm in someone else's body!

'Someone else's body'? What the hell did he mean by that? Dammit! Nothing is making sense here! Nothing at all!

"Ed?" I was brought out of my thoughts by my dad's voice, "Edward, are you all right?"

"Hu? Oh, I'm fine." Could I really tell him what I saw? No, he wouldn't believe me...would he...?

"Are you sure? Because if not I could cal a nurse to-"

"I'm fine." I softly cut him off with my harsh sounding voice. Goddamn I hate sore throats...

There was a silence in the room for what seemed like five minutes

"Dad?"

"Yes Edward?" he responded to me with an anxious face.

"Uh, w-would you believe me if I told you something crazy?"

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"If I...told you something that I saw and it wasn't physically possible, would you believe me anyway?"

He looked at me with an odd expression. It was like he was confused on what to answer but he wanted to answer my question and he was in deep thought at the same time. "Edward, you can tell me."

I smiled in relief and joy that he wouldn't accuse me of making up stories. I hate it that most adults won't listen to what a child has to say. They wont hear the child's side of the story because they think they're making it up to get attention. I was just glad my father wasn't one of those kinds of adults.

Me(crying)-I have no friends!

Tigermon(irritated)-knock it off. you've never had friends to begin with anyway.

Me-So, that doesn't me I don't want them to comment.

Tigermon-someone commenting doesn't consider them your friend.

Me-So.

Tigermon-Comments are either for encouragement for writing more story, constructive critisizm, if someone who just wants to tell you something stupid just because they can. Oh, and it's for flaming too.

Me-I don't like flaming.

Tigermon-Constructive flaming is always good.

Me-you wanna run that by me again?

Tigermon-The people who say, "This sucks Holy Ass! Here's how you could fix it..."

Me-Uuuuuhhhhhhuuuuu...'Holy Ass'?

Tigermon(sighs and rubs forehead)-Why don't we continue this conversation some other time.

Me-Fine spoild sport.