There are times when you mess up, and times when you mess up so severely, you don't even know what's going on. Like waking up from a nap and not knowing what the time is, or confusing someone's mother for your own. In either cases, you tense up, talk to make things worse, or just get on with it.
Ed had a splitting headache. He felt like a door mat that had been trampled on for years, beaten, and left to hang on a clothes line. Basically he felt like shit.
Ed knew that he had drifted away from unconsciousness and was just laying in bed, but he refused to open his eyes for the second time. He could tell that he was in the hospital with all it's damned hums and blips, but it didn't smell like one.
He took slow long breath in, and released the air. No disenfectant, no lingering smell of death or sickness. This can't be a hospital, Ed thought. There's just no way this is a hospital.
Ed groaned. If I'm in someone's house Mustang's never gonna let me live this down. he thought. His groan brought the attention of someone in the room. The person ran to his side and felt his forehead. The hand was cool to the touch, and he secretly enjoyed the soft hand that was feeling his forehead, savored the soft touch that wiped his sweat away.
"Are you awake, sweety?" said a voice. It was a woman, and she sounded very sincere. None the less, he frowned. Sweety? The hell did this woman think she is? He felt like snapping his eyes open and telling her off about the child-talk, but an automatic response came out instead.
"No, I'm still unconscious. Please leave." Ed snapped his head to the left, and widened his eyes, shocked at his own answer. He tried to focus on something, anything, but everything was blurry and smudged, and for some reason, cream. The lady laughed, and Ed shifted his gaze towards her. Two sets of eyes stared back at him, and he recognized the mop of brown hair, chesnut colored. It...it couldn't be.
"Mom?" he whispered, his voice scratchy for the length of time it was unused. The lady leaned forward, and into focus. Slowly everything started to become clear, the two sets of eyes merged into one, and the lady that stood before him was a stranger. He felt his cheeks heat up, mistakening this woman for his own mother. Wait 'till Mustang hears THIS. he thought.
"I'm right here honey." she said. Ed's eyes widened to the size of baseballs. What. The living. Hell. What's going on? he thought. Let's start with simple, he told himself.
"Where am I?" he asked. Please not a home, please not a home. he begged in his mind. The lady dead-panned, "Well, I would like to think this is a hospital, right?"
Despite the confusing answers and weird acceptances of mother's, Ed had to laugh, and send a searing pain through his skull. His hiss alone sounded inhuman, but he was sure that his grimace was even worse.
Swirling pain flashed everywhere, behind his eyes, in the back of his skull, and even down the length of his neck. The woman placed her hands on his shoulders,which was difficult since Ed was cradling his head tightly.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she said, panic creeping into her voice. Ed could only hear her voice as if it were a mile away. He gasped. If he had never attempted human transmutation, he would say this was the most painful feeling he ever had.
His eyes shot open, and he stared down at his feet, immediately closing them again. I have both legs!? he thought. What happened to my automail!? he continued thinking. He was slammed with another wave of pain, and he could begin to feel the lulls of darkness pulling him. He slumped forward, into the arms of the woman.
"Sandra! Sandra talk to me!" she propped him onto his previous position on the bed, and she ran out, calling for a doctor. Ed fought to stay awake, to find answers, but the pull was too strong and he drifted farther and farther away from the cream colored room and into darkness, with one thing lingering on his mind. Sandra, Sandra.
Ed woke with a start, breathing deeply. He looked around for the same woman he had seen, but she was gone. He was alone, in the room, facing one vacant chair in front of his bed. A chair he would rather have someone sit in.
He threw off the covers and searched his room for a bathroom, all the while feeling the cold floor with both legs. Satisfied there was one, he couldn't decide whether or not to piss himself, or check his reflection. He decided to do the latter.
He peered inside the silvery mirror, glad that he didn't have to stretch his toes to see it. He stared at his reflection for what seemed like hours until he actually started to pay attention to the body details. The same brown hair he saw at the gate was loose, and draped casually on his-or rather her-neck. It was silky to the touch.
The same round face, with large, seemingly innocent brown eyes, darting here and there, drinking in the appearance of the teenage girl's body he was inhabiting. Her body was also graced with scars, though not as much as he had.
One thin, silvery scar ran down from behind her right nostril, down to her upper lip, but it was faded, barely noticeable. Another was slammed dead center on her forehead, also faded, but still noticeable. It was a small crater, in the shape of a diamond. That surely would have given rise to a few taunts.
He raised both arms and studied the scars that were etched into the skin as well. He was glad to see that they weren't the scars of self harm, just scratches and cuts that had been left untreated. He rested his gaze on the right arm.
It barely had a scar except for one in the shape of a lynx, but Ed couldn't get over the fact that it was, well, flesh. He had been so used to automail, he practically forgot how it felt to feel with his (previously) dominant hand. He ran the length of the right arm, with his left, and shivered with the tickley sensation.
"Wow." he muttered. He stared down at his feet, and noticed a huge disfiguring scar on the right foot, in the shape of, a foot? He knelt down and felt the patch of mottled skin. It wasn't like the other scars which were either cuts or scratches, her flesh had been burned off, and whether it was treated or not the damage was permanent.
She had to carry this for years. he thought, and she had to deal with knowing this. Just what happened? he wondered.
He didn't notice these features when they were in the portal together, well, they had been separated a couple hundred feet apart, but close up, you could see that this girl had a slice of her own crap to handle.
He shook his head, feeling the long tresses of brown hair slide away from his neck. He sighed. He felt so calm for some reason, as if he was just doing a day to day errand. He walked out of the bathroom and made his way back towards his bed, taking in the soft cream color that layered the room.
No white, no smell of disinfectant, just what the hell is going on? he thought. He sat on the bed, smoothing the hospital gown down the waist. He bit his lip and glanced down, struggling to find an answer for the body switch, when a lady walked in. She smiled and spoke bubbly, like she was in some type of summer home.
"Well look who's up!" she said with a large toothy grin. "How you feelin'?" she continued. Ed forgot to answer her and stammered, "Umm, fine I guess. I just went to use the bathroom." he said. He blushed. That came out wrong damn it. he thought. The nurse nodded.
"I suppose that's normal, you were here for at least three days." Ed's eye's widened. Three days!? he thought.
"H-how-" he started. The nurse walked foward and turned Ed's head, examining the back. "You took a pretty nasty fall, and you were technically electrocuted." she explained. "I'm surprised you're even alive." she finished.
Ed remained silent. I could've died? he thought. An overbearing sense of sadness came over him and he drew his knees together and hugged them close. Why did he feel so upset?
The nurse eyed him suspiciously, warm smile disappearing altogether. "Careful," she said, "you don't want to constrict your breathing." In response, Ed loosened up a bit. She was right, by hugging his legs, breathing became harder by a milestone. He took a deep breath, enjoying the missing scent of disinfectant. Waves of calm set in, and the sadness started to fade. He turned towards the nurse.
"Got anything to eat?" he asked. The nurse began to laugh, the sound musical and light, and Ed felt at ease. It's her voice, her happiness. She uses it to make patients more comfortable. he realized. The nurse walked towards a large cart he had never noticed before, and she pulled out a tray with a sandwich, a fruit cup, and some orange juice. She held it out to him.
He grasped the tray with both hands, thankful that there wasn't any milk. The nurse started to walk away with the cart, and Ed's eyes followed her like a curious feline. She walked out of the room, saying, "I was just supposed to hand you something for you to eat in case you woke up." She walked away, disappearing from his sight.
Ed continued to gaze at the doorway where the nurse had walked out. He shook his head, trying to get his mind on his food. He gingerly lifted the sandwich to his mouth and took a small bite, minding the queasy feeling in his stomach. He chewed his morsel slowly and quickly discerned it was, in fact, a standard ham and cheese.
He lifted to take another bite when he heard a small ring emanate from the small table by his bed. He leaned over to look at a small looking box that glowed with a light that only seemed to could only logically come from a light bulb. The small box had written words on it, but they were too small to read from his distance. He picked up the small box, and read the message.
Mike: Heard you woke up earlier. What happened?
Ed turned the box over on it's side, looking for a way to write a reply, but he couldn't find anything. He tilted the box downwards so he could see the top. A thin button was in the corner, and Ed pressed it. Instantly, the glow that came from the box shut down, leaving the long side of the box with just black glass.
He pressed the button a second time, and the box glowed again. He poked the glowing side, not sure what to do with it. The image on the box moved, and a small oval-shaped sign instructed Ed to swipe his finger across the "screen."
Ed obliged, swiping his left hand finger across the screen, and the image slided, then shrunk, and was replaced with a different image. In the background, Ed could see two girl's, one shorter than the other, and one arm draped over another. One, he recognized as Sandra, the other, he remembered as Elise. He stared at the picture for a minute wondering about the condition of Elise, when another ring came from the box. Another message was sent, but it was at the top of the box this time.
Mike: You up? Can you answer your cellphone?
Ed frowned at the screen. The hell is this guy's problem? he thought. It was just words, so he couldn't tell if "Mike" meant it in a concerned way or he was just being cocky. Not knowing what to do, he tapped on the little message at the top, and a black drape covered the screen. In rows, there were messages about updates and other things he didn't know, but the message was scrawled on the screen, above the others.
He tapped it, and the black drape shrunk like the image with the instructions, and it was replaced by another image with a grey background, the messages formed in little green and silver bubbles. Another oval-shaped sign instructed him to reply. He tapped on the oval, and another image slid up, containing letters and numbers.
He tapped a letter, and it assumed it's place in the oval. He experimented with the buttons, making sure not to press the ''send'' button, until he pressed a small button that bared a small ''X'' on it, which erased a letter from the screen. He held the button, watching all the letters disappear. He slowly tapped each precise letter he wanted to form his message.
Bubbs: How do you know about that? he sent. He flipped the "cellphone" as Mike called it, still confused about it's primary function. So far, he only knew it to send messages. Another ring pinged from the cellphone, and a silver bubble popped up.
Mike: Well, I was on my way to the cemetery, like you told me to, and when I got there, you...you were standing in the middle of something. It looked like you came straight out of a horror movie. Your mom told me you were out for three days until you woke up last night.
Ed became confused. He could care less about the horror part, but what was going on with Sandra? He tapped back a quicker reply.
Bubbs: What happened?
Ed was hoping that Mike would respond quickly with an explanation so he could get answers, but he didn't get one.
Mike: You don't remember?
Ed tried not to snort. Of course not he didn't remember, he just didn't understand what he was saying. He tapped even faster, listening to the little popping sounds as he tapped each letter.
Bubbs: I don't have a solid idea as to what you're saying.
Ed waited. And waited, and waited, but Mike didn't reply. Ed began to feel that he had just ripped out someone's world from under their feet, and as much as he constantly did that, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. A bubble popped onto the screen.
Mike: Holy hell.
Mike: You were standing in this gaint puddle. It was...red. Like blood, but it didn't flow like a liquid. It was like, jello, in a way. And you were surrounded by blue electricity.
Mike: You honestly don't remember?
Ed read and re-read the second message over and over again. The same liquid he had stumbled into, the same liquid that had almost killed him, it was the same liquid she stepped in. He could barely breathe, and his breath came out in shallow gasps. Red water, he thought. It's red water.
Sandra placed her paper next to Alphonse's, and she examined them closely, marking each paper with a line. She stopped, and brought both papers closer together, and she circled one thing from each page.
She stood back, as if she could see the answer from a further distance. "It's red water." she said. The others glanced up from their own work, and Al leaned forward. Mustang exchanged glances with Riza, who was beside him, no longer behind. "Come again?" he asked.
Al turned towards Mustang. "Red water." he said. "It's like a run down version of the philosopher's stone, only it's-" he was cut off, by the sharp intake of air from Sandra, who also let out a sharp cry of pain. She fell to her knees, holding her head tightly. Her breathing was labored.
Alphonse quickly kneeled in front of Sandra, while placing a large hand on her back. The other's rushed forward, but were directed away by Al, who said, "No, we have to give her space."
Mustang glanced towards Riza who had backed away considerably. Her face was masked well, but years of experience pinpointed the stress lines of agony over Sandra's pain. Riza knew what she was doing, but it still hurt her.
"Mustang, help me with Sandra." Al said. Mustang walked forward cautiously and took his place by the young teenager.
It sounded horrible. In between the faltered breathing and pained gasps, Sandra made another sound that made her seem inhuman. It came short of a cat screetch. Mustang lightly put his hand on her back, and rubbed it in a small circular motion. Sandra couldn't feel it. She forced out, "I hear voices." and then a gurgled groan. "Whispers." she said. She took a deep breath in as she tried to control her pain. Hot tears rolled down from her eyes.
"Who's voice can you hear?" Mustang asked. Sandra struggled for an answer and her back arched, taking the form of a possessed child. "I...I can't," she started, but a horrendous, blood-curdling scream was ripped out from her throat, and Al began to tremble.
"It's sounds like that night." he whispered. Mustang sharply guided his attention from Sandra to Al. "What?" he said. Before Al could even answer, Sandra gurgled another painful sentence.
"It hurts." she whispered, and she grasped the long golden blond hair into bunched fists, shuddering as the pain washed through her head. "Al," she choked out desperately. Alphonse leaned closer to her, straining to listen to her words. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her lips.
"Help." she whimpered, and fell forward. She landed in Mustang's and Al's arms, while her own trailed limply against the floor. Her breathing was slightly less ragged than before, but still faltered. Al scooped up Sandra in his arms, her head lolled to the side and knocked gently against his armor. He gingerly set her on the couch.
"This happened when she first woke up." Al said, devoid of feeling. "But she didn't go to that point." he continued. He glanced up, and switched his gaze starting from Riza, to Mustang, going though all the others until he he finally rested his gaze on Havoc. Everyone else began to look at each other, the same question going through their minds.
Just what in the world was going on?
Mustang was still kneeling on the floor, but his attention was directed to the two sheets of paper he had given Sandra. He lifted them up, and examined them closely. He read Al's paper first.
Called in from town of Villian
train ride to central
Hijack/ some plan
woman in front of Red water/ wanted Ed
breaks/ couldn't stop Ed from falling in
You guys switch bodies?
Mustang then looked at Sandra's page, which was surprisingly neat for a left handed person.
visiting the cemetery
sent to get flowers
random puddle of a red liquid appeared
didn't know about it/ just walked in
someone tackled me
body switch
Mustang noticed that the words "red water" and "red liquid" were circled, and she pretty much had a basic idea of what was happening. Now they would just have to wait until she woke up.
He stood up and brought both papers together like Sandra did. He turned and nearly bumped into Alphonse, who was wiping the sweat away from Sandra's forehead. Her breathing had returned to normal, although she still looked rather pale.
"I have a really bad feeling about this." he said out loud. Really, really, really bad feeling. he thought.
Walking was always the worst when you're called from the head-honchos, and walking never usually meant anything good. She could hear her high heels tapping against the floor, echoing across the abandoned building. It followed her like a mask of death.
Tack, tack, tack, tack, tack.
Shit. she thought. Of all the worst scale crimes to do, I chose this. She continued walking in a straight, clear line. Funny how fear could make you do things, things you wouldn't do on a normal basis.
"Nice of you to drop by." said a voice. She stopped dead cold, any more steps would cause her death. Her head instantly picked out the clues in the voice. Scorn, male, a bit of a scratchy voice. Who was i-?
"Can I eat her? Please?" said another voice. Before she was even able to process what the other male had just said, a third voice emerged from the shadows.
"No, you can't, Gluttony. She's very important." a short whine was heard shortly afterwards.
"You called me?" the woman asked. In response, the shadows began to laugh at her. It was the walking definition of the word seducing. "I would like to think that we demanded you to come here. Especially after that stunt you pulled."
Shit. she thought. Nothing gets past her here. "It was a necessary action, to get Fullmetal. Chello was losing ground. I had to-"
"Did I ask you to defend yourself?" the voice said again. She received no response and she continued. Not only did you disobey my orders, you deliberately took the situation into your own hands."
I'm going to die, I'm going to die. the lady thought. "Though I can't say I'm disappointed with the results." the voice continued.
"We do need to make sure you'll stay on track though." the scornful voice said. The woman started to breathe a quick sigh of relief, when quick black lances cut through her right shoulder. She yelled out in pain.
"Keep this in mind," the seductive voice said, "if you try to pull another stunt like that again," she twisted the lances through the shoulder, causing blood to flow freely down her arm, "you'll feel something much worse than this." the lances retracted slowly, slicing more skin and flesh, blood steadily dripping onto the floor.
When they left the shoulder, the black lances flew back into the darkness with lightning speed, flinging the rest of her blood across the floor. The woman grabbed her right arm.
"You can go now." the male voice said, and the woman turned, walking in the opposite direction she had come from. She reached the metal door and she grasped the handle with her right, staining it with her blood. She walked out, and faced her companion in the train hijacking, who was leaning by the wall. He ran towards her.
"Holy shit, Jen, what happened!?" Jen kicked off her high heels and picked them up slowly with her left, wincing from the pain. She looked at his black eye and bruises, and she started to walk in the direction of the infirmary.
"I got myself into deep shit, Chello. I got myself into some deep shit."
Whale then. Uhh, I'm not sure that I wanted my chapter to end this way but, Ta-Da! There you go.
Just when I thought, "Hey, you're never gonna finish this chapter," I finished this chapter. Please don't kill me about the re-updates because I just started checking all my files, and I realized that I've been uploading the wrong ones.
On a side note: If reading my fanfiction here is somewhat difficult, I have a copy of my fanfic on under my username jesscandysweet. Just google that in and you can find my story there as well, even though I upload the chapters onto this website first. Have a nice read.