Author's Note: Big thanks to those of you that reviewed! To those who didn't… just know that I have hit-counters and am very disappointed in the number of lazy, lurking readers out there. (gives pointed glare)
Warning: Some slight (cough cough… ahem) swearing this chapter. You've been warned.
Chapter Three: Tears and Darkness
He didn't really remember the way things looked and felt before his soul was sealed in a lifeless suit of armor four years ago. It felt so long ago. He remembered that sunlight was suppose to be bright and golden and feel warm on his skin. Pale morning sunlight filtered in through the windows, but the world seemed strangely dull as if it was actually some off shade of gray. Everything felt cold, like a permanent chill had crept over him and seeped down into his heart.
He felt empty. He remembered a time long ago when he remembered feeling warm inside - when he'd still had a reason to be happy. But those memories were nothing but the hazy ghosts of faceless people and long sun-golden hair now hidden somewhere in the darkest depths of his mind. He felt cold and empty inside - like a hollow suit of armor. He could feel nothing. The rough texture of the military blanket over him, the smell of the tasteless food beside him, the presence of the man sitting in a chair beside the lumpy couch he lay on. None of it mattered. Not even the cottony fuzziness in his head or the dry scratchiness in his throat from too many sedatives. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered now except the cold emptiness in his heart.
"Please, Al. You have to eat."
"I don't want anything," came a faint, raspy reply from the one on the couch.
Roy helplessly ran a hand through his hair, obviously starting to get frustrated with the boy's despondent apathy. But Al didn't care. He had no reason to care now.
"Al, please," the man pleaded, leaning forward in his seat. "Just a couple of bites. That's all I'm asking."
"I don't want any." Turning away from the untouched bowl of oatmeal a worried looking Hawkeye had brought for him, Alphonse pulled his limbs closer to his body and miserably curled in on himself as if trying to escape the painful reality he'd woken up in. He felt so cold and empty inside. How could he possible eat anything when he felt so empty?
Roy leaned back in his chair, frustrated and torn. It had been the same ever since Al woke up almost an hour before. At first Roy hadn't even been aware the boy was awake - having been lightly dozing in the chair he'd pulled up beside Al the night before. His neck hurt from the odd position he'd fallen asleep in, and his body ached with the lingering strain of yesterday's battle. It was only when a soft, almost barely audible sob sounded from the crumpled mound of blankets on the couch that Roy had startled out of his sleep.
Even in the pale light of a new day, the youngest - no, last - remaining Elric mourned his brother's passing with a violence that made Mustang feel like an unwelcome voyeur to the poor boy's pain. He'd tried comforting the boy as best he could in the uncomfortable situation he'd suddenly found himself in now that Al was awake. He felt helplessly out of his element, like a fish trying to walk on land. He'd never had to comfort another person's pain like this before. He couldn't bring himself to call Lieutenant Ross or someone else for assistance though. This was something he had to do. The boy was his responsibility now.
The boy had cried for almost half an hour - the pain of his brother's death still an open, bleeding wound - until he'd finally tapered off into helpless, muffled sobs. After that, Al had become frighteningly silence, never speaking except to refuse food, water, and comfort from the dark-haired colonel. He just lay there on the couch - a silent tear trickling down his face every now and then - as if he'd lost all reason to live and consigned himself to laying there until grief finally drained him of life and allowed him to be reunited with his lost older brother. Roy felt sickened by the sight. Wasn't there anything he could do to help?
"Al…" he hesitantly began. What could he really say to the boy that wouldn't sound like empty condolences or meaningless words of comfort? He'd never really been good at expressing his feelings. "I… I don't know if I can ever truly understand what you're going through right now, but I do know what it's like to lose a loved one…"
The boy on the couch said nothing, another silent tear rolling down his cheek. It was like he wasn't even really listening, lost in his own little world of grief.
The Flame Alchemist however forced himself to go on, desperately trying to reach the younger brother of the one he'd failed to protect. "Your brother will be sorely missed… He was a foul-mouthed hot-head at times, but I've never seen anyone as skilled in alchemy as him, even by people more than five times his age. Fullme-- Edward was special. He lived to help other people. That's why I believe he searched so fiercely for the Philosopher's Stone - he wanted to return you to your original form. That's also why he stepped in front of that bullet. He upheld the alchemist's code to help other people until the very end…"
A muffled sob came from the couch, Al burying his face in the blankets as a fresh wave of tears streamed down his face. Roy knew how painful it must have been for Al to be reminded just how special his older brother had been, or just how much he'd lost in Edward's untimely death. But sometimes to begin the healing process, one had to be reminded of the person they'd lost and remember the legacy that person had left behind, even if it carried with it the lingering pang of knowledge that it should have been longer.
"I'm so sorry, Alphonse," Mustang whispered, hiding his face behind a curtain hair. "If there was any way for me to, I would trade places with Ed in an instant if only to bring him back to you."
"It's not fair!" an angry wail suddenly came from the couch, Al speaking out for the first time since his brother's death.
At first Roy thought Al was railing against him and the unfairness of Ed dying when it should have been him that died in the attack - just like what Roy already believed. But as he took in the sight of the boy's helpless tears and unchanneled rage, he slowly began to realize that the boy wasn't blaming him, but rather lashing out at the world and all its cruel injustices.
Al's hands were curled into fists, twisting the corner of the blanket between his fingers in a helpless burst of rage that reminded Roy painfully of Al's older more temperamental brother. "This wasn't Equivalent Exchange! Brother didn't get anything in exchange! It's not fair! He shouldn't have had to die! What did he get in exchange for how he died?"
"He got your body back," Roy calmly replied, his eyes solemn. "His last dying wish was to see you returned to your original body. And I believe he died happy knowing you finally were."
"I don't care," Al angrily murmured, curling deeper into his cocoon of blankets. "I'd rather still be sealed in a suit of armor than not have my brother."
Al nestled his face deeper into the pillow, clenching his eyes shut as a new line of tears traced it's way down his cheek. "It hurts so much…" he softly whispered, almost as if to himself.
"What hurts?" Roy demanded, instantly leaning forward as if to check the younger alchemist for some injury he or the nurse might have missed.
Al lay there silent for several moments, his pale gray eyes staring past the colonel into nothing. "Everything," he finally murmured, his voice as hollow and dead as the empty suit of steel he'd once inhabited.
Al shut his bloodshot eyes and turned his face away from Roy. "I forgot how much it hurts to be human. I forgot what it's like to feel pain. When I was in that armor I didn't feel anything. But now it feels like I'm being torn apart inside and there's nothing I do can do to stop it. It almost makes me wish my brother just left me the way I was, or somehow let me die in his place. Anything would be better than this…"
"Don't say that, Alphonse," Mustang said, his voice suddenly stern. "Your brother sacrificed his life to bring you back. You and he spent the last four years searching for a way to restore you to your original form. You are dishonoring Fullmetal's memory by saying you wish he'd never done what he did. What he did was his last selfless act of love for you. He knew he was going to die and wanted to give you the last thing he could to make you happy before he passed away."
Al slowly opened his eyes and looked back up at the colonel. "I'm sorry, Sir, but no matter what you say, I'd rather have my soul still attached to an empty suit of armor than have my real body but not my older brother…" As if suddenly drained of energy, Al nestled his cheek back down into the pillow and let the flood of tears that had been pooling in his eyes for the last few minutes finally fall. Surrendering himself to the inescapable pit of despair that rose up to swallow him as he was once again reminded his older brother was no longer there to comfort him or wipe away the tears, Al lost himself to grief.
The colonel helplessly watched the boy turn away from him and curl into a tiny ball, his shoulders quaking with muffled sobs. Unable to do anything else, Roy reached out and laid a gentle hand on the boy's shaking back. But Al seemed unaware of the colonel's small offer of comfort.
Despite all his power and influence, all his different techniques of coercion and subtle manipulation, sitting there watching the small boy no older than the tender age of ten mourn the passing of his last living relative, Roy suddenly found all of his abilities utterly useless. And for the first time in his entire life Roy Mustang found himself completely helpless…
"That fucking liar! If I ever get back to wherever the hell I was, I'm going to rip that fucking Voice apart - body or no body!" an angry snarl echoed across the empty wasteland of white that stretched out into all eternity. Nothing moved to answer the boy's angry threat, because there was simply nothing there to answer him. All that seemed to exist was him and the endless void of white.
Edward looked around him, almost foaming at the mouth with rage. "You hear me, you liar!" he yelled and shook his fist at the empty dome of white that stretched out overhead like some kind of artificial sky. "If I ever met you again I'm going to kill you! This isn't the Gate of Truth!"
Ed hadn't known quite what to expect when the omnipresent Voice of whatever Heaven or Hell he'd found himself in had said it was going to transport him to the Gate of Truth. He'd been to the Gate of Truth before and this certainly wasn't it. He remembered darkness and chattering black creatures, and… eyes. Thousands and thousands of eyes staring back at him from the depths of Truth and time. Never in all his times to the Gate - first to resurrect his mother and then to barter his arm for his little brother's soul - did he ever remember the Gate being so… white. This had to be some kind of a mistake or cruel joke of whatever higher power that brought him there.
"You lying bastard!" he continued to rant as if whatever had transported him to there could still hear. "This isn't the Gate of Truth!"
"Of course it is," a gentle voice suddenly said behind him.
Ed spun around on his heels. He hadn't been expecting anyone to actually answer him. There wasn't anyone there to answer him!
But it seemed Irony was not quite done with the confused alchemist that day; because standing right behind him only several feet away most certainly was someone. Only who - or what - that someone was was still up for debate.
The strange newcomer was obviously human. But Edward could make out no distinguishing characteristics or features. It's skin seemed to radiate light, haloing it in a shimmering glow so that all Ed could see was the basic outline of a human body. It (like everything else in this empty void) was white, like a shining star descended to earth in human form.
Ed was starting to get sick of the monochromatic color scheme.
"Who are you? Are you the Voice from before?" he demanded, glaring at the being.
"No. I am not the Voice of Knowledge. I am a guide sent to lead you to the Gate," it replied. It's voice was soft and feminine - like the soothing caress of a parent.
For reasons he couldn't explain, Edward immediately felt himself relax. There was something oddly familiar about the voice. As if he should already know who it was…
"How do you know I need to find the Gate?" he said.
"I have been told," the entity replied. "You do not belong here," it went on. "Your soul is in a state of unbalance. It still retains threads to the other Side, as does your brother to the Gate of Truth and the Law of Equivalent Exchange. Isn't that why you seek passage back through the Gate - to save him from the Imbalance?"
Ed stared at the entity, feeling strangely disarmed by its blunt deduction of the situation. "Yes. I have to save him. It's my fault he's in trouble now. He only just got his body back. I can't let anything happen to him."
The shining figure seemed to find that answer acceptable, and nodded. "The way back to your Side of the Gate is long and arduous. You must hurry. Your brother has already begun to Waste. He will not last long once the process enters its final stage."
"Show me how to get back," Ed pleaded. "I have to save him."
The featureless being slowly raised a hand and pointed into the distance over Ed's left shoulder. "There," it whispered.
Ed followed the glowing finger with his gaze and met a startling, unexpected sight.
When he'd first appeared inside the Gate of Truth, every direction he'd looked was nothing but an empty sea of white. No matter which direction he'd turned there was nothing to be seen. But now, looming in the distance like a blotch of sickness in this perfect world of white stood a patch of darkness. It was dark and foreboding, like an impenetrable wall of shadows.
"Where-?" Ed stammered. He was certain that had not been there before.
"You must hurry," the entity said, motioning him towards the patch of darkness. "That is the pathway to the Gate. You cannot waste anymore time here. Alphonse does not have much time left."
Ed nodded and was about to speed off when he suddenly froze. He slowly turned back to the being. "How do you know my brother's name is Alphonse?" he suspiciously asked.
"I know many things about you and your brother," the entity replied, its voice warm and gentle, like the very intonation of Love itself. "From the first word you spoke to the first time you drew an alchemy circle. I was there when you took your first breath of life and I remember the way you looked just before Death stole my last."
Edward could only stare at the glowing being, his heart swelling with a hope he was almost afraid to entertain.
As if reading the hopeful, frightened, pleading, uncertain look in Ed's eyes, a ripple passed over the entity's face -like the surface of a quiet pond buffeted by a gentle breeze. Features slowly emerged from behind the being's glowing face - and then Ed finally knew his guide's identity.
"M-mom?" he shakingly whispered, as if afraid to believe what he actually saw.
Trisha Elric smiled back at him, her features lit by a gentle glow of otherworldly light. "Edward," she smiled. "My, you've grown…"
That was all it took to tear down the last little bit of hesitation Edward had; for with no more fanfare or pause, he launched himself into his mother's waiting arms.
Tears tumbled down his cheeks as he clutched his mother's glowing form, sobs of happiness, disbelief, and utter longing jumbling his words together into a barely intelligible string of speech. "M-mom… Mom!" he sobbed. If it was possible, he hugged her even tighter, his face buried in the crook of her neck as if afraid she'd disappear if he relinquished his hold on her for just one second. "Al and I missed you so much!" he cried, sobbing out all his pain and loss only another orphaned child could understand. "We were so sad when you died, we didn't know what to do. We were so scared… so alone…"
"I know, Edward, I know…" his mother softly whispered, stroking his hair and rubbing his back just like how she always used to do when he was young. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be there for you. I'm so sorry…" Her voice was heartbreakingly sad, filled with the anguish of a mother unable to do anything to stop her child's pain. "I'm so, so sorry…"
Ed had to fight to find his voice. "W-we tried to bring you back…"
"I know, dear."
"We failed…"
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
Trisha Elric said nothing but hugged her son closer. Ed didn't know how long he stood there like that - wrapped in his mother's embrace. It could have been seconds or hours or days. He didn't know. Nor did he really care. All he knew was that he finally had his mother back.
Slowly, Trisha leaned out of her son's embrace. "You have to go now, dear," she said, cupping his face in both hands so she could look him directly in the eyes. "Time is running out."
"But I don't want to leave you," Ed murmured, tears blurring his vision.
Trisha smiled sadly. "I know, dear. But Alphonse needs you, and you don't belong here. It's not your time yet. I promise you though, when it is your time, I'll be the first one waiting here to greet you."
"Do you promise?" Ed asked, suddenly feeling like a small child unwilling to leave his mother's side.
His mother smiled softly. "Of course." Hugging him tightly one last time, she kissed him on the forehead. "Take care of yourself and your brother," she said. "And be nicer to that colonel. I know he seems difficult at times, but he truly does care for you and Al."
Ed didn't know what to say and stared at his mother as she slowly stepped away. "Be careful, dear…" she whispered, and then, "I love you."
Ed began to open his mouth to say something - anything to prolong their inevitable separation; but just as he began to speak, he felt something invisible - like a giant hand - suddenly reach out and grab him, pulling him backwards away from his mother. Trisha Elric stared after him, her face haloed in golden light.
"Mom!" Ed yelled, but his cry was swallowed by the sound of rushing air as he was violently pulled backwards into the hole of darkness.
"MOM!"
The last thing Ed saw before the world turned black was his mother's gentle face staring after him, her lips pulled into a bittersweet smile.
And then everything went dark.
Edward was thrown to the ground with no more care than a sack of potatoes.
"Bastard…" the blonde teenager hissed under his breath as he shakingly pushed himself back up onto his feet. Why did the Gate or whatever higher being that oversaw it seem to like hurting him so much every time he came here?
Standing, Edward slowly took stalk of his surroundings. It was dark - much like the first place he'd found himself after he'd died. But unlike in the Middle-ground - or whatever the hell that annoying Voice had called it - he now had a clear sense of up, down, right, or left and was aware of solid ground under his feet. He was also aware of the emptiness around him - like he was standing in the middle of a dark, empty stage.
His mother was no where to be seen - just like he'd already suspected. He hadn't expected her to follow him, but still, he couldn't help but feel a stab of pain knowing he'd once again lost her to the Gate.
"Hey!" he yelled into the darkness. "I demand to see the Gatekeeper!"
Nothing moved to answer him.
Ed looked around. An angry growl echoed through the darkness. "Fucking bastards… all of them," he swore under his breath. He had no idea who the 'bastards' in question really were, but it made him feel a little bit better to blame someone for his current situation.
At a lost to do anything else, Ed began to walk, his direction uncertain. He knew he had to find the Gate, but he had no idea where it actually was. His mother had failed to tell him where he needed to go once he went through the gate of darkness.
How long he walked, he didn't know. The emptiness and utter darkness was disorienting. But he kept walking. He had to find the Gatekeeper and he wasn't going to stand around all day waiting for it to come to him. He had to find a way out of the Gate and back to his brother. Al needed him. He refused to lose anyone else he loved to the Gate, especially for something that was essentially his fault.
Ed walked for what felt like forever. It wasn't long before he was beginning to wonder if he was going in the right direction, or was just getting himself hopelessly lost further inside Gate. He probably would have begun to panic as time wore on and he still saw no sign of the mysterious Gatekeeper or anything else in this empty world of darkness, but then-
He suddenly ran into something hard.
Rubbing his nose, Ed backpedaled and stared at the thing he'd so unceremoniously run into face first. At first he saw nothing. But as he continued to stare, he slowly began to realize what he'd run into was larger than him and that he had to crane his head up to make out the outline of the mysterious object.
Ed gasped as realization hit him like one of Winry's wrenches.
He'd finally found the Gate of Truth.
Looming in front of him in the darkness stood a giant set of doors. They were massive, like the doors to a giant's lair. Images were carved into its surface: suns, moons, alchemy arrays, and symbols in some ancient language. It was dauntingly foreboding and strange.
But Edward was not one to be impressed by ancient carvings or symbols. He had to get back to his brother.
Rushing to the doors, Ed pushed against them, struggling to open them. But they refused to budge.
Not willing to admit defeat, the teenage alchemist stubbornly pushed harder, cursing and swearing under his breath as the doors still refused to yield.
The Gate is locked. Only I have the power to open it. Nothing passes through it without my permission.
Ed spun around. There, staring down at him from the darkness like some disembodied demon, hovered a giant lidless eye.
The Gatekeeper…
Behind it and around, multitudes of other eyes blinked into existence, staring down at Ed like some demonic panel of faceless judges. Ed felt and heard more than saw the movement of other… things in the darkness - chattering black creatures with childlike faces and sharp tearing claws. He secretly suppressed a shudder.
"Let me pass!" Ed demanded, glaring at the lidless eye. If it had been anything other than an immortal entity born from the very fabric of the universe, the giant eye might have thought twice about denying the deceptively small alchemist. But the Gatekeeper was not an entity to be ordered around or intimidated.
No. You have not paid the Toll. You do not have the right to pass.
"Like hell I don't! I died in exchange for my little brother's body, but now he's dying because you and whoever else running this godforsaken place say I gave too much, and that now there's an imbalance! I have every right to pass! I gave too much, so I'm entitled to a return exchange! Now let me through!"
No. What you want exceeds the excesses of your original Exchange. You cannot pass.
Ed growled, struggling to remain calm. But the Fullmetal Alchemist and calm were as just about as soluble as water and oil.
"Let me fucking through!" he bellowed at the Gatekeeper. "Before I go up there and punch out your ugly eye!"
No, the Gatekeeper once more said, it's voice resonating from the very depths of the void. Even if you had enough, you still would not be allowed through. A life for a life. That is Equivalent Exchange. You gave your life in return for another. But there is no life in return for yours. You do not have the necessary toll to pass.
Edward clenched his teeth together in rage. "My brother is slowly wasting away because of your damn Equivalent Exchange. His life is slowly being sucked back into the Gate. If that's not my Equivalent Exchange, then I don't know what is."
There was a pause from the Gatekeeper, its lidless pupil boring into what felt like the very depths of Ed's soul.
You are pressing your luck, alchemist, it said, almost warningly. You are presumptuous in your demands and analysis of what you can consider yours to barter.
But…it reluctantly conceded after a pause, the drain of your brother's life would indeed fulfill the necessary element of that part of the Toll.
Ed grinned. Let no one ever say he let the Gate get the better of him.
However - the Gatekeeper's voice cut through his smug thoughts - you still do not have the necessary Exchange to cross over.
Ed stared at the giant eye, his stomach dropping out from under him. "What…?"
The suffering and hardships you endured over the last four years, plus the drain of your brother's life still does not cover the Toll required to let you through. You are not allowed to pass.
An angry growl escaped Ed's throat. "Damn it! I'm sick of playing these stupid little games of yours! If you won't let me through, then I'll make you let me through!"
Your efforts are useless, alchemist, the Gatekeeper's voice echoed through the darkness. You have no right to go against the Law of Equivalent Exchange.
"We'll see about that…" Ed snarled. Then, clapping his hands together, the blonde teenager made to transmute his automail arm into a blade.
But nothing happened.
Ed stared at his metal arm, unable to understand why it wouldn't change into his favorite weapon.
You do not have the power of alchemy inside the Gate, the eye explained, as if reading the confused look on his face. In this realm, alchemy is the thing that makes up the very essence of the Gate. Thus, it is not yours to command.
Edward stared up at the Gatekeeper, a strange sense of helplessness washing over him. He couldn't pass. He couldn't cross through the Gate of Truth to fix the Imbalance slowly killing his brother.
Al - Ed suddenly knew with a sickening sense of surety - was going to die…
To be continued…
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Next time: Chapter Four: Funeral Games. Ed has been denied passage through the Gate of Truth with no other way to return. Time is running out. Al is starting to show signs of Wasting unaware of the danger he now faces as he, Roy, and everyone else prepare to say their final goodbyes to the Fullmetal Alchemist…
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