Chapter 3: Touch
Edward didn't know why he had had so much hope for the first lead. It seemed improbable that the very first sign of hope that they had something substantial in their search for a way to get their bodies back would be successful, but Ed had hoped.
Bio-alchemy had been the first thought in where to look, and Edward, within the first few months of joining, had religiously combed through every book on the subject in the main library.
Unfortunately, bio-alchemy was an underdeveloped subject, too many taboos surrounded it, and almost everything Edward discovered was unfounded theory that was more akin to philosophical postulation.
Then, oh how Edward had been excited, then they'd found a solid research paper. One old book stuffed with loose papers and tight, cramped writing detailing legitimate work with amputees. Hours had been spent on it, Edward had carried the book everywhere with him. Everyone in the office noticed and started to give him a little space, even Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang was less rude.
The book reported that all of the experiments were successful, arms and legs restored, but there wasn't anything after, the diagrams were enough to start with, but something was missing, the entire process not completely explained. Edward had been a mad man, losing countless hours of sleep searching and searching for another book, another account, by the end he dug up a name.
Josef Kirchweger, a man who'd lived two hundred years ago. A peek into a normal history textbook revealed that Kirchweger had been considered a serial killer, apparently experimenting on amputees and people with similar disabilities.
Every experiment had ended in death, the "living" prosthetics he'd created taking on a parasitic function and destroying the body.
Edward didn't know why he'd been so excited, so hopeful, why he had actually allowed himself to believe. His discovery and own research, which propounded Kirchweger's theories and made them that much closer to being used, had to be reported.
Which was why he was standing in front of the Lieutenant-Colonel with a thick folder in hand, its contents filled with Kirchweger's inhumane acts and Edward's own detailed notes and research.
"What's this?" Mustang said, eyeing the thick packet apprehensively.
Edward, in the last five months of being in the military, and within the few missions he'd gone on, had always handed over sloppy, thin reports, ones banged up and missing a few bits and pieces. Even in simple things, Edward never made things easy.
"I'm supposed to do yearly research, right?" Edward replied, not looking Mustang in the eye.
The flame alchemist could tell that something wasn't right. And he had an idea as to what it was. He took the file and examined the front.
"Kirchweger's work?" there was a slight tone of surprise in his voice.
Edward said nothing, shoulders slumped and eyes blank.
"And it didn't work?" he said, intentionally sounding derisive.
He'd found that one of the best ways to motivate Fullmetal was with derision and disbelief, the boy bounced back a lot better from a rock or cruelty than he did from kindness. With what he wanted to do, a nigh impossible task, the boy would need to maintain his resiliency.
Instead of responding how he normally did, steel entering his eyes and determination to prove "that flame bastard" wrong, he stayed quiet. Mustang was shocked to see a tear drop slide down the twelve year old's face.
The office was dead silent as Mustang stood there, frozen, and Fullmetal started to quietly cry. He wanted to ask why the boy was crying, mock him, shock the boy back into being stubborn and fearless.
But, despite his own uncomfortability, Mustang noted that Alphonse was not there, and when bad things happened, Alphonse was always by Edward's side.
Mustang set the folder down and walked around the desk. Edward's shoulders were starting to shake and the boy brought a hand up to press against his eyes. Mustang took a knee and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I-I'm not weak," Edward hiccuped, struggling to speak through his tears.
Mustang wasn't sure what to say to his subordinate.
"I-I'm going to fix things, for Al, he j-just needs to let me."
"You will, Edward," Mustang said.
Edward kept crying though and Mustang, despite his own thoughts on the matter, pulled the boy into a hug. Edward melted into it, face resting against Mustang's shoulder and his cries becoming more pronounced. Mustang just responded by holding still and awkwardly patting Edward on the back.
Edward calmed down after a few minutes, growing silent. He pushed away from Mustang and the Lt. Col. stood and gave the boy some space.
"You're not going to tell anybody, are you?"
Mustang shook his head.
"And tell them what, that you're pipsqueak? I think they all already know that Fullmetal."
A flash of anger passed Edward's face, followed by gratitude.
"Why don't you go apologize to that brother of yours, I'm sure you said something stupid to him. Besides, you're already short, no need to extend it to the amount of time you have finding a way to your bodies," Mustang replied casually, glad that his subordinate was already bouncing back a little.
Edward glared, but instead of shouting he seemed to be weighing the man in front of him. For a second Mustang felt uncomfortable, actually worried about coming up short in the boy's evaluation of him.
"Thanks, bastard."
Edward exited the office and the door shut. Mustang shrugged, eyeing the report on his desk. He was glad that he'd measured up.
Alphonse Elric was mad, but more than that he was sad and scared. He wanted his body back, more than he wanted anything else in the world. Each day that slipped by he grew more desperate, his memories of touch and physical experience turning into ghost-like memory.
It hurt more when he thought of Edward depriving himself as a form of punishment. Sometimes it was an act of solidarity, and at those times, Alphonse loved his big brother even more. Other times it was a form of self-torture.
Kirchweger had been a big let down, but just that. Alphonse had been hopeful, but more cautious than Edward. Even being younger, he'd always been more practical than Edward.
Edward had started his whole self-flagellation routine, refusing to eat, pushing his body in physical training, and it had just killed Al. Because the one thing he'd been allowed to keep, were his feelings. They'd fought over it, and now Edward had stomped off to isolate himself entirely while Alfonse was left to fume in their joint room in the barracks.
But now that Edward was gone, all that Alphonse felt was sad. He was scared of staying in this body forever, but he was even more scared of losing his big brother. Edward seemed to forget that he was all that Alphonse had. Mother was gone, all their memories with her poisoned by their great sin.
Glancing about the room, Alphonse felt like crying. But he couldn't even do that. It was all too much.
Standing up, Alphonse left the room. He ran, sprinting down the street wishing he could feel something, anything, that he could feel his muscles straining, his lungs burning from exertion. But he didn't feel anything, just could hear the sound of his armor.
He stopped at some point, in a park. It was the swings which caught his attention. He missed swings. The feel of going up, the air swooshing around him, his stomach fluttering with excitement as he went back down.
In a fit of melancholy he sat down on one of the swings, the chains creaking ominously.
He sat for a long time, staring at the dirt and thinking about his mom.
There was the sound of chains creaking, someone having sat down in a swing. Alphonse looked up, a little surprised.
It was Riza Hawkeye. The woman was in civilian clothing and Alphonse noted that there was a bag of groceries set a little to the side.
"Lieutenant, what are you doing here?"
"I was shopping," Riza replied, "What were you doing Alphonse?"
Alphonse didn't have an answer. He'd been thinking about Edward, but for the last while all he'd been able to think about is how much he missed his mother's hugs.
"I was thinking about my body," he said quietly.
"I can't imagine not having one," Riza replied, opening it up for Alfonse to talk.
"I miss everything, getting tired, eating, sleeping, feeling pain. I miss getting to touch people, getting to hug or even just feel. It's worse, because brother, he's always so stupid, he doesn't take care of himself and tries to deprive himself of everything he thinks I don't get. Sometimes I think he just wants a hug as much as I do."
Alphonse was staring at the ground now, again wishing he could cry. There was the sound of something on his metal and he instinctively knew that it was Riza. Looking up he saw that she had gotten up and laid a hand on his metal arm.
"It's alright to not be okay, Alfonse. But I know you boys will get your bodies back. I've never met stronger or more brilliant young men."
Alfonse knew he'd be crying if he could.
Then Riza hugged him. He couldn't feel it of course, but the thought of the gesture, seeing it, made Alphonse feel a little more human. He rested his head against, keeping his eyes open. Maybe he couldn't feel her warmth, but he bet her hugs felt just like his mother's.
He let himself recall the memories, trying to imagine it.
Riza let him be held until he himself pulled back, the sky getting dark.
"Do you need help with your groceries Lieutenant Hawkeye?" Alphonse asked, memories of helping his own mother coming to mind.
"I would love that, Alphonse."
Alphonse hurried over to the bag of groceries and picked them up. They started walking and Alphonse started talking and Riza let him. He prattled about kitties, about alchemy that Riza absolutely knew nothing about, about the annoying things Ed did, about the sweet things he did. Then he started to talk about his condition.
"When I first lost my body, I didn't know how to do almost anything. You see, when I touch things, I don't feel them, so I have to use my sight for everything. One time I broke Granny's table because I didn't know how to set a cup down!"
Alphonse giggled, sounding absolutely like a little kid.
"I even punched through a tree too! But it was a little one. Ed thinks I don't know, but when it all first happened I tried my best to be careful, but it was hard and I accidentally hurt him a lot. Big stupid head never said anything. He'd always trying to be so strong and brave for me, but he doesn't realize that I couldn't do this without him. And sometimes I just want him to know that I can be brave and strong too!"
Riza smiled softly as she listened to the little boy talk. It also was giving her insight into the elder Elric which she hadn't known.
When they arrived, Riza unlocked the door and invited Alphonse inside and to stay for the night.
"I can't Lieutenant, I'd like to, but I know brother will be back. I don't want him to be all by himself."
"I understand Alfonse, be safe walking back, and when you want to, you can talk to me. I enjoy your company. Make sure to keep that brother of yours under control."
Alphonse gave a nod, "I will Lieutenant!"
Riza watched the boy walk down the street and hoped that she was right and that those boys did get their bodies back.