Title : Whispers of a Nightmare
Genre : Anime/Manga
Category : Full Metal Alchemist
Disclaimer : Nope, this one belongs to someone else as well.
Summary : Takes place after the incident with Nina. Something's wrong with Ed, and Al just can't quite figure out what it is. Serious situations and angst ensue.
Warnings : Angst, mild language, violence, and other issues that shall go unnamed for now. I don't want to give away too much of the plot just yet, now do I? ;)
Rating : T
Chapter 13 : Running Towards the Storm
Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang surveyed the scene in front of him, his onyx eyes narrowed in a squinting position. The sun had been up for a few hours and was casting its glorious morning rays down on the wreckage that lay before him, the bright light radiating through his already aching skull. Glass and steel were strewn about the dying grass, metal bent at odd angles sticking out from various amongst the debris.
Smoke still lingered from the remnants of the explosion that had caused a pretty nice fire, reports of the flames being spotted miles away. Most of the passengers had been accounted for, there being only a reported sixty-two on the train at the time. Out of all of them, most had been injured; though five were reported dead and ten still missing, thus, the reason for Mustang and his subordinates mission. Find the ten that were still buried somewhere in that carnage.
The smell in the air was none too pleasant either, a mix of metallic iron and overly burnt coal, which had spilled all over the tracks and the surrounding area. Mustang kicked a piece out of the way as he proceeded towards the wreckage, his subordinates already hard at work, digging their way through the debris.
"Any luck?" he asked, his usual smug expression being kept under wraps for the time being, due to the situation at hand.
"None so far, sir," Havoc replied, wiping sweat from his brow, trademark cancer stick placed tightly between his lips, the thought of actually smoking it not even crossing his mind. "This is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. There was definitely more train than there was people, that's for sure," the blonde man muttered while searching.
"Alert me if you find anything," Mustang ordered, thankful to have the rank he had. Even though he was only a Lieutenant Colonel, he still had five willing souls to do whatever he asked, or commanded for that matter. Careful not to break his neck, he made his way over to Hughes who had been called in for the investigation.
"Find anything unusual?" he inquired, crossing his arms across his chest, inwardly knowing that the answer would probably be no and his suspicions about the Elric brothers--Edward in particular--were more than likely falsities, much to his dismay.
"Not to ruin your hopes or anything, but no," Maes answered, standing to his feet. "But to be honest, I'll know more when this thing is cleaned up. It's too early to tell right now. I could give plenty of theories, but I've got no way of knowing until the debris is cleared," he stated, dusting his hands off. "By the way, which you should be doing, right?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.
Roy's eyes narrowed in response, his teeth starting to grit. "No, I was sent here to find survivors; not to be the clean up service," he bit back, his right hand threatening to snap.
"Hey, hey, cool it, Roy. What's got you so wound up?" Hughes questioned, raising his hands in defense.
"I just can't help but think Elric had something to do with this. I know his routine by now, and it seems that wherever there's some type of trouble or disaster, he's not very far from it," the onyx eyed man answered, his gaze drifting to the dense forest that surrounded them, the wind blowing mercilessly through the trees.
"Oh, come on, Roy!" the hazel eyed man scolded, a small grin crossing his lips. "You actually think Edward had something to do with this? That's insane! There's no way he could've done something like that. A train derailment? I think you've gone a bit too far this time."
"Really," Mustang started, his voice not questioning but stating his answer. "Well, then, maybe you can explain this," he shot back, the trademark smirk slowly sliding across his mouth, turning his lips up slightly as he pushed the crumpled piece of paper into Hughes' hands.
It only took a second for the other man to read it, the smile erased off his face. "Oh, well, then I guess this does change things a bit doesn't it?" Maes asked, one side of his mouth raising just a bit. "So, basically he defied your orders and left. Nice."
"Now do you understand the reasoning for my theory?" Roy queried, taking the letter back and comfortably stuffing it into a back pocket.
Hughes nodded meekly, scratching the back of his neck, unable to keep a small grin from playing over his features. "Well, when do we start the search?"
"As soon as this whole fiasco is over with," the Lieutenant Colonel answered back, his gaze resting on the wreckage again, his brow narrowing as something red caught his eye. He immediately moved forward, his heart beginning to race for reasons unbeknownst to even him. He'd seen that color red before, knew what it belonged to--who it belonged to.
He could feel his legs break out into a run as Hughes' voice called out faintly behind him. But he knew Maes would follow him anyways, therefore there was no need for a response. Cautiously making his way through the twisted and scrambled materials, his gloved hand found its way to the red piece of cloth, pushing against the steel it was trapped underneath of.
The jet-black haired man didn't know why he'd felt such panic travel through his central nervous system, but it did, forcing his heart beat to increase rapidly. His white gloves quickly became dusted with a shade of charcoal, working faster and faster to dig through the debris. He suddenly stopped when the piece of cloth ended, it turning out to be just a piece, a jagged section of the boy's red coat, filthy and charred on one edge.
"Roy, what's the matter?" Hughes questioned, kneeling down to eye level with the other man, a confused expression setting across his features. "Roy?" he repeated as the black haired man continued to stare at the small portion of red material in his hands. "Oh, no, hey!" Maes called out, signaling to the rescue team. "Over here!"
"No," Roy muttered, his eyes still glued to the charred remains of the jacket.
"What?" Hughes asked, the confused look growing wider, causing his brow to crease.
"No," Mustang repeated, slowly standing to his feet. "Don't. He's not here," he stated, his gaze drifting to the forest once more.
"What do you mean he's not here? How do you know he's not buried underneath all of that?" Maes questioned with a slight edge of anger in his tone, a hand going to his hip.
Mustang spotted another piece of the material not too far away, about ten yards or so, hanging from a branch on the edge of the forest. "They got away," he stated with a restless relief in his tone, his heart beat slowing down just enough so that a heart attack didn't presume. It didn't take long for the anger he held towards the boy to come back, already contemplating lectures and plans inside his utterly hung-over mind.
&&&&&
The sound of metal clanking entered the boy's ears, quite unsure of where it was coming from. It sounded so familiar, but at the moment, he couldn't figure out why. His mind was still subconsciously living in a dream; in a world where everything was alright and things were peaceful. There was no alchemy there, but that didn't bother him, strangely enough. But in this dream, he and Al were normal. Normal kids who didn't have a care in the world, and were free to laugh and run and just be.
He didn't remember a time such as what he was seeing now; not even in Risembool were things so serene and beautiful. The trees were a much brighter green and seemed alive in a way as the wind took their leaves and carried them across fields filled with rays of a golden sun, the warmth it gave off relaxing and soothing. He never recalled ever feeling something so wonderful before. And in the middle of it all, he and Al lay spread out, taking it all in.
But the noise of the moving metal was starting to drown out the quiet conversation they were carrying on, much to the twelve year old's annoyance. The faint noise was starting to grow louder, he fighting the urge to get back to that comfortable place in his mind. He could just hear Al saying something about a birthday party when the black void that was slowly consuming it darkened it all, Edward nearly crying out for it to come back.
He reluctantly opened his eyes only to find that the darkness still surrounded him, frightening him all the more. He let out a low gasp, nearly choking on his own breath when Al's quiet voice invaded his ears.
"It's just your hood, Brother," the clanking metal suit of armor explained, the eleven year old's voice soft and detained, and almost sad.
Edward blinked, letting calm ease over his speeding heart. Confusion settled on his brow once more as he realized he was not walking on his own two feet, but was actually being carried on his little brother's back, much to his dismay. The sudden feeling of being weak and small struck him, instantly making him struggle to get down, his independence waning.
"Don't, Brother, you can't walk on your own right now. You're leg's injured," Alphonse stated, a twinge of pain in his tone. He walked evenly and as carefully as he could, making sure not to move Edward too much.
"I'm fine, Al, just put me down!" the exclamation came out a little too loudly, his struggles still more than apparent as his stubbornness kicked into high gear. He continued to push out of Alphonse's hold on his legs, but his younger brother's strength was too much for him. "Come on, Al!" he tried again, a slight whining in his tone, making him sound a bit younger than twelve.
Al's patience had been on pins and needles as of late, and the more his older brother continued to push, the more the level of being able to deal with it dropped. The eleven year old always contained the ability to stay calm in almost any situation, his voice hardly ever rising or taking on a harsh tone. But the more Edward pushed against him, the more he was starting to want to push back, this unknown feeling disturbing him slightly.
With an airless sigh, his grip stayed strong, even against the smaller one's insistence. "You're injured, Brother. You can't walk," he repeated, an edge in his tone that wasn't there in his previous statement. "So just stay still."
"I can walk just fine, Al, and if you put me down, I can show you," the boy's petition for independence continued, still trying to get on his own two feet, the ability to ignore the pain in his throbbing leg uncanny.
Another sigh emanated from the large suit of steel, only this time, it contained a small percent of the anger that was being contained inside of it. "Okay, you know what, Ed, if that's what you want, then fine. Here," Alphonse finally gave in, his patience depleting to a level of zero as he sat his older brother down on the soft grass. He continued to walk, hearing the other's leg give out almost immediately. But the want to get Ed to realize that sometimes it was alright to rely on someone other than himself took over.
The pain hit the State alchemist instantaneously, his right leg throbbing painfully. His hand gripped it immediately, dried blood staining his already dirt covered gloves. It doesn't hurt. I'm fine, he told himself, though as he tried to take his next step, the leg gave out completely, the rest of him tumbling to the ground. He grit his teeth in reflex, pushing himself back up into a standing position, knowing that he couldn't possibly be that weak and that quite possibly his leg had just been asleep; after all, from the looks of things, he must've been out for a while for daylight was entertaining his vision.
He trained his golden orbs on the large suit of armor that was consistently getting smaller and smaller the further Al continued to walk, this fact only irritating Edward even more, making him want to push the limits he'd already overstepped. He took another step, the pain electrocuting the nerves in his leg, forcing him to bite his lip to prevent from crying out.
"Dammit!" the pained whisper soon followed suit, his hand squeezing the wound that was starting to reopen. He pushed himself forward, his automail leg giving him slight trouble as well. His brow narrowed further in set determination, limping heavily as he followed his brother who had become a mere speck in his sight.
No! the inward shout rang through his straight-forward mind, not wanting to give into the weakness that had consumed his legs and was trying fitfully to conquer the rest of him. But he could feel the sweat already start to cloud his forehead, the saltine substance running down his cheeks immediately. His chest heaved in and out as he stumbled forward, catching himself on a low branch, barely able to keep standing.
His vision doubled for a second, pissing him off even more. He knew he was stronger than that. He knew it, but why didn't he feel it? He tried to shake it off, but the more he thought about it, the worse the feeling grew. The twelve year old left his crutch of a branch behind and lurched forward once more, this time a quiet whimper of his brother's name leaving his lips.
"Al!" he called out weakly, not wanting to admit defeat, but seemingly having no other choice. "Al!" Edward tried again, this time a bit louder, though a cough emanated from his lungs, forcing him to his knees. "Alphonse, I'm-I'm sorry, okay?" he stuttered a bit, reluctantly giving in.
The resolute suit of armor stopped and slowly turned around, disheartened at the state his older brother was in. It was enough to break his heart, if he had one. Seeing Edward as small and as weak as he was took him back to that night not too many years ago in Risembool, making him feel all the more worse for his older sibling. That was one of the only advantages of not having a mortal body, the inability to feel physical pain, though more times than not, he wished he could take away the pain that Edward was forced to feel, something to relieve the guilt that haunted him day after day.
Alphonse broke into a run, not realizing how far ahead he'd actually gotten from Ed, his soul sinking even deeper; though a part of him hoped that Ed would finally learn a lesson in humility, if that were at all possible. He carefully picked up the fallen twelve year old, much to the other's dismay, and placed him back in his original spot before he had insisted on getting down.
"How's that?" the eleven year old asked, pulling his trembling brother closer to the back of his armor, all the while hoping that it didn't get too cold or Edward would more than likely freeze.
"It's fine, thanks," Ed mumbled, already feeling humiliated for having to have his little brother carry him because his own two legs were too weak to hold him up.
They walked in silence for awhile before Edward spoke again, albeit reluctantly.
"Al, I'm…I'm…"
"It's okay, Brother. I understand," Alphonse politely interjected, knowing how much it pained Ed to utter those two and a half words. All their lives, it always had been and probably always would be. He never knew someone so stubborn. Ever.
"But I am. For everything," the blonde continued, his face crestfallen, his golden eyes downcast. "I'm sorry I got us into this whole mess. I just want to fix things so badly," he stated, his tone laced with anger but filled with woe at the same time. He could feel his tear ducts try to open, swallowing a mouthful of saliva with hopes it would choke them back.
"I know, Ed, and we will. But I know that it won't happen overnight, no matter how much we want it to. We have to be patient, and if we have to take things slow, then we will. That's just the way it'll have to be," the eleven year old explained softly, sounding more and more like he was the older brother instead of vice versa.
"But it's not fair!" the sharp, pained remark flew out of Ed's mouth faster than he could contain it, built up emotion suddenly trying to burrow its way out. "It's not fair that you have to stay like that, Al! It's wrong!" He tried to shut up, to contain all the words that were pouring out of his mouth, but the more he tried to close it and stay quiet, the faster they came, along with the tears he was so desperately trying to conceal. "It should have been me! It was my stupid idea, and my fault! It should have been me!" He let the tears roll down his cheeks, letting it mingle with the sweat that had already accumulated on them. His warm forehead leaned against the cool metal before him, his hands gripping Al's steel shoulders without realizing it. "It should have been me…" he whispered, his voice breaking, his head lightly banging against the smooth metal.
"Brother!" Alphonse scolded in a flabbergasted tone. "How could you say something like that?" he questioned, knowing he would have gone into cardiac arrest if he still had his mortal shell. "Brother," he stated in a more calming tone. "I believe that everything happens for a reason, and even though we created the reason for the situation we're in now; we have to learn from our mistakes. I felt guilty too after we failed, but then I realized that there's nothing we can do but try and find a solution. If all we do is meddle in our problems, then how does that change anything? It doesn't, but we still have to continue on. No matter what."
"Why do you always do this to me?" Edward muttered quietly, his lips smearing against the back of the armor as he weakly pushed his head up.
"Do what to you, Ed?" Al asked, confusion tainting his voice, trying his best to look back at his brother all the while knowing it was an impossible task.
"Make me feel so stupid," the twelve year old answered, going back to gently banging his head against the armor, inwardly hoping it would knock some type of sense into him.
"Oh! Ed, don't say that," Alphonse said with the tiniest hint of a roll in his soul-filled eyes.
"But it's true," the blonde continued, gripping the steel tighter. "Thanks, Al."
"For what?" the confusion continued in his tone, unsure of where his brother was going with the gratefulness.
"For always being there for me. Whenever I need you," he muttered, trying not to grimace as pain shot through his leg again. "And for coming with me."
The suit of armor remained speechless for a moment, not knowing whether to laugh or feel sad, or cry, if he could, that is. Instead, he continued forward, his gaze drifting up to the clouding sky. The immediate need to find shelter ran through his mind, his pace quickening a bit, but still remaining cautious with the small load that was on his back.
"How's your leg?" the eleven year old queried, nearly breaking out into a run as fat droplets of rain began pouring down on them.
"It's--" Edward's response was cut off by a low grunt of pain, one hand immediately shooting to the wound. "It could be better," he answered, gritting his teeth. "But I'll be alright," he added, feeling warm blood seep into the material of his glove.
"I think I see something up ahead. We're almost there," Al stated, reaching back to pull Ed's hood over his head.
"Hey!"
"I don't want you getting sick again, Brother. It was bad enough the last time!" he half-joked, thankful for the deserted train station that lay less than twenty yards away from them. He couldn't help but let out a low chuckle as he heard a grunt respond from underneath the red jacket. It didn't take long to reach the rickety old thing, making Alphonse wonder why and how long it had been like that. Finding a spot where the roof didn't leak, he gently set Edward down, holding a steel arm out just in case the boy's leg gave out like it did before. "Sit down, Ed. Let me take a look at it," Al instructed softly, pulling his brother's hood off his semi-wet hair.
Edward surprisingly did as he was told, slowly lowering himself to the cracked wooden floor. He clenched his jaw as pain snaked sporadically through his leg, forcing him to choke back the gasp of pain that had been lingering on his lips. His golden orbs slowly met the wound, two large parallel gashes careening jaggedly from his upper thigh that wound around to the back of his leg, almost down to his knee. He could finally see now why walking had been crossed off his to-do list.
"That looks pretty bad, Ed," Alphonse's soft voice wafted through his ears, immediately searching inside their briefcase for something to wrap it with. "This'll have to do," he announced, pulling out one of Ed's spare undershirts. He easily ripped it in two and tied it tightly around the wound, much to Ed's sudden mobility. "It's okay, Brother, it'll only take a second," he tried to soothe, knowing it'd be unachievable.
"Sure feels like it's taking a little longer than that, don't ya think?" the blonde questioned through grit teeth, his eyes glued to the skin-tight, make-shift bandage Alphonse was wrapping his leg with.
"There, I'm done," Al stated, finishing up. "But you're really going to have to get that looked at when we make it to town. You might need stitches."
"No, I'm good," Edward stated, one hand shooting up in the air in front of him in a defensive gesture. "So…um, what exactly happened last night because I'm kind of drawing a blank," the blonde queried, scratching the back of his head, his eyes still drifting towards his leg.
"Well, the train derailed and we were lucky enough to get thrown away from most of it, but not all of it," the eleven year old explained, albeit reluctantly as he closed the suitcase. "When I found you, your leg was trapped under a piece of the steel. I pulled it off as fast as I could, but it had already gotten the best of you. I left the minute I heard the first rescuers arrive, though I guess we should have stayed so you could've gotten that looked at," he added, a hint of guilt in his tone.
"Hey, it's no big deal, Al. I mean, I've had worse, right?" Edward piped up, trying his best to erase the forlorn expression in his brother's soul-filled eyes. "I'm still alive and kicking, it's just a scratch!" he shrugged off the wound, accidentally hitting it a little harder than he originally intended, the pain magnifying tenfold.
"That's not a scratch, Ed," Alphonse stated, his voice hanging between deathly serious and abundantly afraid. "That piece of cloth isn't going to hold your skin together forever, and plus, it really needs to be cleaned too. You don't want to risk getting an infection."
"Yeah, one of those, and Winry'll have to slap another one of these on me," he muttered, his voice dripping with utter sarcasm as he patted his automail leg.
"That's not funny, Brother," the slightly angered tone emanated from the steel shell. "The last thing we need is you losing another limb." He paused for a moment, pulling the map from the suitcase.
"How far are we from Kiase?" Edward asked, leaning over a bit to get a better look at the piece of paper, lightning giving him just enough light to read it.
"I think we're right here," Al said, pointing to a rather desolate looking area on the map, a gloved hand going to his steel chin. "And Kiase is all the way over here," he stated, tracing an imaginary line from their estimated position to their destination.
"So basically what you're telling me is that we're lost," the twelve year old chimed in, giving up and laying on his back, pain searing through his flesh limb.
"We're not lost…I'm just not exactly sure where we're at," Alphonse explained, a tinge of confusion in his voice as he stared at the map intently, knowing that he honestly didn't have a clue as to their precise location.
"We're lost," Ed stated in a factual tone, a sigh escaping his exhausted body. He shivered as a gust of wind blew throughout the weak building, the sound of thunder somehow calming to his ears. The boy closed his eyes, taking in the song of the rain, his stomach growling right along with it. Ignoring the plea for hunger, he turned on his side, knowing full well he was being watched, or observed as Al liked to call it. "Why are you staring at me?" the blonde asked, quite bluntly, not even bothering to open his eyes.
"I shouldn't have to explain it to you. You should already know," the haunted words came from the soul-filled suit of steel. Al stood up, this time earning a look from his older brother.
"Where are you going?" the curiousness poured from the twelve year old's tone, pushing himself up a bit.
"To find you something to eat," the younger sibling replied simply, exiting the weathered building.
"Al! I'm fine!" Edward called after him. Frustration slowly crept through the twelve year old's already irritated mind. "Come on, you idiot! Get back here!" he tried again, pushing himself up into a standing position when he realized he still wasn't being listened to. He stumbled to the entryway, the door gone off its hinges ages ago. "Alphonse! Dammit, Al," he muttered, the suit of armor already lost in the forestry green. Feeling defeated, angry, and strangely alone, he hobbled back to the place where he'd been laying, regretfully returning to his original position. He curled into a tight ball, the pain continuing to pulsate through his leg. For the first time in a while, he was afraid to go to sleep, images already stirring in the back of his mind.
Author's note : Wow. That's pretty much all I can say. Oh, and THANK YOU to every single one of you who reviewed. You all are so wonderful to me, and I deeply appreciate your continuous support of this story, and the various one-shots I have put out. You all are amazing, and I thank you for taking time out to leave me feedback and tell me how I'm doing.
So, here goes. THANK YOU to Jaz the Wolf, Akamori-Chan, cuylerjade, TayloWolf, Lyemi, hyperdude, Roy-Fan-33, JChrys, agent000, Aemilia Rose, Legendary Chimera, vampirelf, OrangeKittyAlchemist-Sony, TelevisionGod, Harryswoman, .Kleptomaniacal, Kagome92111, Birth of Venus, marufu-chan, Shattered Mirror01, DarkAmber112, American-Idiot14, ThePatheticWriter, and all of you who have faved me or put me on your alert list. You guys are probably getting sick of me saying this, but seriously; THANK YOU:D
I think I've got a pair of horror one-shots on the way, so we'll see what happens. Until next time. Oh, wait, I already do. ;)