Chapter 2; Replacement

Bane; "Okay, since I got 2 reviews (by 2 wonderfully kind people), I figured I'd cut you guys some slack. Anyway, already finished Chapter 3. I want 3 reviews tomorrow. Only one can be annoymous. None can be spam. If tomorrow doesn't reap success, I'll wait until I get 5 reviews stocked up to continue.

A; "She's sort of addicted to reviews... she still loves you all. Just wait until the commentary chapter of this fanfic. She'll tell you in person."

Laura; "hmm."

"I need you to get all the equipment you might need. There'll be no coming back; he's in a hospital five hours away by train. There's a small town off the map."

"Yeah, I think I have all the parts in."

"And what of Pinako?"

"She...she died two months ago. It's just Den and me, now."

Al's face fell. "I'm- I'm so sorry, Winry."

"No, no...it's...it's all right. Right now, all that matters is Ed. But...Al?"

"Yeah?"

"I've...never tried, I mean, I don't think anyone's ever-How can I create automail vertebrae that supports the back, and yet allows the person to bend?"

"The surgeons told us that it'd be easy. For the most part, anyway. You don't have time to create something for comfort right away. They said just to create a case thate opens in the back, allowing a place for a new spinal cord to be placed, and you can go back in to add bendabilty later, once he's healed a bit more. They wanted for you to basically build a case."

"Why me, weren't there other mechanics--?"

"He wouldn't talk much, but when I caught him awake, I managed to tell him about needing metal replacements. I talked to him about a getting you, but he said something about how you shouldn't have to see him like this. I figure you ought to see him...in case something goes wrong..."

With two bags brimming with everything she could ever possibly need to construct new automail, they made their way through the chilled wind. Risembool train tickets were bought, but throughout the first hour onboard, words were scarce. During the second hour, however, curiosity prevailed.

"But how the hell did he lose so much on a peace mission, Al?"

Suddenly, gazing at the newly human Alfonse, the most obvious idea struck her.

"Oh. Your bodies, he had to sacrifice more of his own to regain yours, I guess?"

Alfonse smiled slightly,"Nah. Ed was a genius working on my transmutation. It wasn't me he was trying to forge flesh for."

"But...Oh my god. The philosipher's stone...You-didn't-wouldn't..."

"No. Let me just start from the beginning. There's so much I don't know. You'll have to wait until Brother fills in the blanks. They sent us to a remote village that was incredibly advanced in alchemy. It was their life. The entire soul of the place hovered everywhere; everything was so connected. It was amazing, Winry. And according to their myths, in the area was a substance that was so pure, and so rare that, in some cases, it could be traded for flesh. The substance was Serenium, said to be spun out of pure love. But no one had yet found it. And supposedly there was a risk. Someone added that, according to the inscriptions on a nearby temple, hate had been thrown into the mix by an envious god with violet eyes and spiteful tendancies.

Needless to say, we searched for this myth. I mean, what else was there to take faith in? It took two months, but we finally came across it in small ravine miles down the river. We did the transmutation process that night."

"And?"

He didn't reply, only sat ashen-faced. He didn't think she realized exactly how hard it was to hand out words. All the curiosity wants is the information. Doesn't matter if there's despair, or embarrassment hidden between the lines of knowledge. The need to understand takes over, and the need doesn't care much about the thoughts of mere mortals.

Instead, he recited a folk-song that had first told them of the marvelous substance.

"In strife spun a web of endless lies,

A time of vengeful, fleshless spies.

Arisen those of violet sight,

With eyes on goals amid their spite.

And yet, a new age came its way,

And once more dark was kept at bay.

The lives of those who risked too much,

Were given once back their limbs and such.

With dew to calm the victim's cries,

A varied result would soon arise.

Circled souls, bone and flesh,

Be warned, to those who might not mesh."

"Al?"

"Yeah?"

"...Well, why exactly does Ed need the usual automail if you found the one way to...?"

"I should have known to let him go before me...but he-he wouldn't even hear of it. Brother wanted me to have the first go. So I did, but the folksong that told us of Serenium also had a line that said subtly,

'The lives of those who risked too much, were given once back their limbs and such'. "

"And? What does that have to do with anything?"

"The alchemy is ancient, flawed, and it only allows the regaining of limbs once per person."

"So? You're two people."

"But we're blood related."

"And how is that relevant?"

"Our blood was too similar. I guess the DNA was too much like mine, and the Serenium wouldn't function."

"Oh, God. You mean Ed never...?"

"...He didn't really give. I mean, according to how I read his expressions, I think that he'd been feeling guilty about what I've been for the past few years. And yet, Brother was happier than he'd been in a long time, for a while."

"So how did it take a year to come back?"

"Well, we packed as much of the element as we could manage, and went from town to town, reforming the bodies of those who had lost themselves in accidents due to life's cruelty or mistakes of alchemy. We never much lingered on the verses to the song. We talked it over and came to the conclusion that the rest was just poetic trash. Just last week, though, I was getting us lodgings for the night. Brother said something about heading to take care of another 'wanderer' as we had come to call them."

"And?" Winry was growing impatient. Where was all this going, anyway?

"I was heading from an inn that had given us a night's stay, when she came screaming."

"Who?"

"A girl local to the village. A small girl, maybe eight years of age? She was dressed in a blousse with a white skirt that trailed down to her ankles. And the first thing I noticed was the blood. "

"And how does a bleeding girl pertain to Ed?"

"Getting there. It covered her hands and marked the white in several places. Anyway, it turned out her mother had lost half of her face in a cart accident last year."

"So? How could she be bloody from an accident that happened the year before?"

"Do you just want me to stop so you won't have to ask questions?"

"Oh, sorry."

"She, too, had found the benefits of automail. Half her visage was composed of steel. So Brother, having asked around for anyone to assist, came to her. But it was only after the child found him...that I realized exactly what the last verse to the musical expression meant.

'Circled souls, bone and flesh,

Be warned, to those who might not mesh.'

Alfonse closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to overcome him. Winry simply watched him in sympathy; waiting for him to continue.

"I concluded, finally, that it meant only so many people could find comfort and relief from this path. But eventually, it would demand something in return. It was like a hiccup, an allergic reaction to the substance. Some folks just don't 'mesh'. The mother regained her face, but at the loss of Brother. His spine was...gone. I found him lying on his side, a gaping trail of nothing along his back. He just lay there, bleeding and shuddering in agony. He kept coming in and out of lucid states. He kept saying over and over again; 'Never knew. Never understood.' I carried him eight miles to the next village. I had to; there were no othere means of medical attention for circumstances of that magnitude. "

Winry's eyes were glazed with grief. Drops of bitter fluid flowed freely from blue.

"And that's all I know. He can't really talk yet, the spinal cord needs to be rebuilt for the body to respond to nerve sendings from the brain. But when he does, you can pry the rest."

He brought her into a tight embrace. Tears fell like rain, and yet, the relief of the clouds parting never quite came...

Bane; "Sorry everybody, I suck at poems (or songs). I just figured it would fit best here. Thanks for putting up with it."

Bane; "Phew. Aren't my fanfictions so light-hearted?"

A; "Now I'm depressed."

Laura; "You made me cry."

A; "I wanted a lemon, not a sally-sob story."

Bane; "All in due time. I want a bit of a morbid edge to this one, first."

Laura: sobs uncontrollably "Hey! That's -hic- not -violent shudder- not true! I can too -hiccup- control my sobbing!"

Bane; O.o "Let's just leave it here."