Hello everyone! Here is another chapter successfully done! :D
ANSWERS TO REVIEWS: Anonymous J: Thank you so muuuch! :3 haha Yeah, Greed hates Lust but since (all Greed/Ling fans let's be honest…he's hot ;) ) Greed's pretty good looking and Lust does represent desire and lust (duh) I think her feelings were mixed, she may hate Greed but she's physically attracted to him, purely because of looks. Haha I planned on writing more Lan Fan&Greed (Ling) but I'm afraid I would get boring with the pair if I write too much about them (sweat drop)
1-800fangirl: Hey there! :D Thank you so much for your review! Eheh (scratches head) thanks a lot for the compliment, I try to impress at least a little ;) It's amazing how reviews can brighten my mood ^_^
The Flashbacks that Follow
Alphonse Elric sighed contently, slowly crawling into his bed, panting lightly from the activity.
He was still frail, far too thin for his age and height, but he was alive. And he had his body back. That was all that mattered. His brother got his arm back, Winry and him finally confessed their feelings to each-other, even if it did need a lot of persuading, not to mention Ed lamely confessed with using alchemy as metaphors.
Al shook his head, his big brother was like that, all about alchemy. It was like Winry with her automail, the "automail freak" as Ed loved to call her.
Al pulled the covers over his bony body and laid flat on his back, feeling air fill his lungs with each breath he took. It felt almost…weird.
He was alive. He was breathing. He could move, while it may be limited, he could move nonetheless.
When he, or more precisely his body, had been trapped inside of the Gate of Truth, he didn't feel anything. No hunger, pain, sympathy, joy, anger, nothing. He had felt like he was in his armor again, while he was able to feel emotions, he wasn't able to feel the warmth of another human's hand. Or he wasn't able to sleep as his armor body couldn't exhaust itself, he hadn't felt hunger, nothing…
The first long months after Father's defeat, after the Promised Day, he had spent the whole day in the hospital, fed by tubes, he hadn't been allowed to eat any solid food until after he had gained a few pounds.
He remembered how difficult it was for him to fall asleep, since he had been so accustomed to the suit of armor he had inhabited for the entirety of his and Ed's journey, he sometimes didn't sleep at all at night, only to sleep during the day because his weak body was too exhausted to stay awake.
But now it was different, he still couldn't do hard physical labor but his condition had improved. While his bones were still far too visible, he had visibly gained some pounds, his hair looked far healthier, his skin looked healthier too and his eyes shone again with joy.
At times like these, where he couldn't sleep, Al thought back on his journey with his brother, what they had to go through, what they have lost, the friends they have lost on their way of making the world a better place and regaining their bodies back…everything…
He sighed, staring at the ceiling.
Images popped into his mind, images of places, events, people.
All who they have lost, who died because of them.
An image of his mother appeared first and he smiled a bittersweet smile, he had visited her grave today along with Ed and Winry and Granny, her and their father's grave. Al had noted how, whenever Hohenheim was mentioned by anyone, Ed would call him "father" or "dad".
Not "him", "that guy,", "old bastard", "old man"…etc. but "dad".
They had all been sad when they saw Hohenheim had passed away, kneeling in front of Trisha's grave, a smile on his face. Al remembered how hard his brother had cried that night, after they buried him and gave him a proper funeral, with just them paying their respects. Of course, Ed had stayed out long, aimlessly walking around the house, farther away through the vast landscape of Resembool, but when he had returned, his cries of agony and pain could still be heard even when he tried muffling them with a pillow.
Al also remembered how Winry had walked into his room and comforted him that night, telling him he wasn't alone. Alphonse had wanted to be there for his brother too, but he also knew that Ed would berate himself if his little brother saw him as vulnerable as he had been then.
The image of his late mother was replaced by Hohenheim, while he didn't know him for long, and his memories of him were foggy and not clear, he had still felt connected to him, as father and son. Al knew Hohenheim had truly wanted to sacrifice himself in order to save him and Ed, he may have not been the best father out there, but he tried, he had tried making everything good again and that was all it counted.
A image of Mei Chang popped into his mind and he blushed, rubbing his face. The Elrics had often travelled to Xing, visiting the new Emperor, Ling Yao, and Mei, as well as Lan Fan and getting to know the culture in general.
Ling had been pretty depressed over Greed's death, he had often said that a big part of him, a part of his soul, was missing and that no matter what he did, he could, he knew he would never be able to replace it.
Al had felt similar too, at least while he had been trapped to the suit of armor, he had felt empty too, though he had his brother, Winry, Colonel Mustang, Hawkeye and many more friends who made sure he was treated warmly, even while being nothing but a walking mass of metal.
More images of passed comrades he had encountered on his journey flashed through his mind, then an image of Greed appeared, while he had been in control of Ling's body, his second reincarnation.
Al hadn't interacted that much with him, but he had developed something of a sixth sense when it came to recognizing bad people, and Al had known from the start Greed hadn't been bad.
A Homunculus? Yes. The embodiment of Greed, one of the seven deadly sins themselves? Yes. But not bad.
It was like the deceased Homunculus had said, greed may not be good, but it wasn't so bad either. And that's what Greed had shown them all, Al included. At the beginning, with his first reincarnation, Greed was just that, greedy. Nothing else mattered to him than fame, power, fortune and ruling over the world.
But ever since taking over Ling's body, he had developed greatly. They had discovered, from Ling no less, that all he had ever wanted, truly wanted, were friends, friends who stuck to each-other through thick and thin and who supported each-other, who he could trust and rely on.
Then images of Martel, Greed's first friends he had unknowingly made, appeared in his mind.
His eyes widened, his whole body started to shake and he felt bile rise in his constricting throat.
He opened his mouth, gasping for air desperately, gripping the bed sheets beneath him in order to hold onto something.
Pain wracked his skull strongly and he clutched his head in order to find some solace, he didn't.
The scene kept replaying over and over in his head.
What had happened that time…
When he had been kidnapped by Greed, when King Bradley, Wrath, had attacked them in the sewers, when Greed's henchmen had come to rescue them…
Martel had been inside his armor, screaming and frantically trying to get out when she had been forced to watch her friends being brutally murdered, no, slaughtered before her very eyes.
Al could remember her screams of anguish and pain, her desperate attempts to claw her way out of his armor, he remembered how her fingers were bleeding from scratching at his rough, metallic armor, remembered her tears as they dripped onto the bottom of his armor…
He had felt the tremors overtaking her body, it had been anger at Wrath for killing her friends, soon anger turned to fear when the powerful Homunculus had approached them.
In a vain attempt to avenge her friends, Martel had taken control of Alphonse's body and attempted to strangle Bradley to death, unfortunately it had little to no effect at all on him.
The next thing that happened…Al would never, could never forget.
Bradley had suddenly produced a long sword out of thin air, he brutally stuck in inside a gap of Al's armor, right beneath the helmet…
In the next minute, large amounts of blood had seeped through every possible hole in his armor.
Martel was dead…
Wrath had killed her…brutally so…
This had never happened before, Al had never been so close to seeing someone die, or even come close to dying himself, his big brother had always tried to shield his innocent, too pure eyes from world's cruelty, even his big brother had been overwhelmed by how cruel the world could really be at some points…
Alphonse would never forget that day, for as long as he lived.
This wasn't the first night he remembered it, rather one of many.
It had been the first time somebody died, inside of his armor no less. The armor, he thought, was supposed to protect her while he escaped as far as he could from Wrath, but instead it had secured her demise. With nowhere to escape, Wrath had had the perfect opportunity to kill her by precisely stabbing his sword in a gap in his armor and pierce her whole body with it.
Al had felt guilty ever since.
After he had been cleaned out, alchemically by Edward, he, like every day since his soul was confined in a suit of armor, couldn't sleep at all. His thoughts were coming back to that horrible event.
At times, especially now that he had his body back, he could still hear Martel's screams of pain until she choked on her own blood.
The flashbacks that followed were the worst. Sometimes, he would clutch his head as if in pain, trying to block out all those screams of agony and fear, but he knew he couldn't, he never could.
His sleep was always plagued by nightmares, most of the time, he would wake up drenched in a cold sweat, his brother and Winry at his side with wide, concerned eyes.
Ed knew what was happening with Alphonse, even if he never did directly admit it, he had them too.
The flashbacks.
It would be too cruel to say that Al was lucky for not experiencing the same things he did, seen the same things he did, did the same things Edward was forced to do…
He was suffering too, Ed, Winry and Pinako would hear his screams every night, but they all knew they could do nothing about it.
They could offer a shoulder to cry on and a ear willing to listen, but that was all. They couldn't take away the memories, erase them from his mind, take away the pain that was inside his heart…
Nobody could.
The flashbacks would continue to come.
PLEASEEE REVIEW! I REALLY want to hear your opinions on this! BW: What should I write for the next one shot? Any ideas?