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 21 : Crystalline Dreams
"You know, when you said we were going to Landon, I was expecting better conditions. You are a Lieutenant Colonel after all, right, Roy?" Hughes questioned sarcastically, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, he wiping it away irritably.
"The boys aren't traveling by car, Maes, so neither are we. If we want to find them, then we have to use their methods because I can tell you now those two aren't using the main road, and even if they were, they wouldn't be driving," Mustang explained, staring straight ahead and focusing on the task at hand. "Besides, we should be arriving in town within the hour, so quit your complaining."
"I'm not complaining, but you can't tell me that you're not hot. Geez," he muttered, tugging at the collar of his undershirt. "You're lucky I only brought one change of clothes or else you'd be carrying this thing," the Major stated, gesturing towards his pack.
The other man grunted in response, taking note of the weight of his own belongings. There wasn't much, an extra set of clothes and the few necessities he needed to keep up his appearance. He was only thankful that the damned thing wasn't loaded down with paperwork, the one foe he'd have waiting for him when he returned to Central. His hardened glance drifted upwards to the sky, it taking on the colors of twilight. Between the thick, grey clouds that seemed oblivious to the notion of moving were pale violets and light blues, accompanied by the golden tones left over from the setting sun. His gaze immediately dropped down, another shade of gold entering his vision.
The weight of the pack was nothing in comparison to the disposition of guilt that was weighing down his soul. Sure, he was thankful that the two boys were alive, but the fact that he had no absolute idea as to their exact location bothered him more than anything. They could be anywhere, or on their way to anywhere, which upset him even more.
But what got to him the most were those dreams. In all the years that passed since the Ishbal Rebellion, the dreams had never changed. It'd always been the same routine over and over again, and every night, he'd have to relive the horror he witnessed that day. But for some unexplained reason, the twelve year old kid was there instead. Either begging for his life, or making the older man himself cry for mercy, he had changed everything, making the man's already difficult life harder to handle.
"No matter what you think, they're okay, Roy," Maes voice came from behind him, the taller man hurrying to catch up with the Lieutenant Colonel.
The thought was kind, but nothing in Roy Mustang's life was ever that simple. This was a fact that he came to know and never forget since he was a child. Life was never an easy thing, no matter how good you were at avoiding paperwork.
&&&&&
The darkness shrouded him like the night cloaks the shadows. In this place, he was free; free to feel and do whatever he pleased. And at the current moment, letting the silent, still air flow past him and around him was all he needed. It was a hint away from being cool, though there was an undercurrent of warmth it carried along with it as well. It was beautiful. The boy could almost swear he was smiling, until the darkness quickly vanished into thin air and was replaced with a picture of a factory, its smokestacks gracing the midnight sky.
Looking down at himself, it appeared he was in his normal attire, though fresh blood stains graced his pants leg and his left side. Reaching his flesh hand down to the wound, he could feel the warm substance that was supposed to be flowing inside his body, leaking out. He panicked slightly at this, but a piercing scream that echoed through the streets that sounded a lot like Al's nearly made his heart stop.
Glancing around, he realized that he was indeed alone, no metal body of armor at his side. Something was wrong, very wrong. Immediately, words shot out of his lips faster than he could contain them.
"Al! Alphonse! Where are you?" he screamed, his tortured voice showing obvious signs of wear. The beating of his heart was almost as loud, but as the blood-curdling scream resonated once again through his ear drums, he realized he was getting nowhere—fast.
His golden orbs immediately shot to the many windows of the factory, a blue glow emanating from one of them, nearly at the top of the building. Panic snaked through his blood stream, ultimately knowing that something dangerous was going on, and it involved Al.
His brain instantly set off signals to his legs to move, though his automail apparently chose not to obey. Carrying the majority of his weight on his right leg, he pushed forward, his ability to run more than impaired.
For a split second, it was as though his entire body went into slow motion, and no matter how fast he kept telling himself to move, his muscles and nerves refused to listen. The twelve year old could hear his breath leaving his lungs faster than he could catch it, his internal organs feeling as though they were on fire.
As suddenly as the notion came, it went, sending him almost sprawling to the ground. Before his face could meet the solid concrete below, he reached out a hand, catching his balance before his visage was just as useless as his leg.
"Brother!" the eleven year old's voice cut through the thick, foggy air, scaring the wits out of his older sibling. "Brother, please! Please, stop!"
Those four words made the State Alchemist stop dead in his tracks for the moment, fear-filled thoughts racing through his mind. His eyes watered slightly at this, but at the moment, he had no time to cry. He had to get to wherever the hell his little brother was. And that task was becoming harder and harder as the seconds dragged by, his inability to find a way into the factory impairing his time.
Breath left his lungs in short, quick pants, beads of sweat already spilling down his forehead as he ran around the huge building, his brother's cries his motivation as he finally found an entrance. The door was the smallest he'd ever seen, especially for an entrance to a place like that. It stood about three feet high and was barely half that in its width. The only thought the boy had was a whisper of a plead that the thing wouldn't be locked, and much to his surprise, it wasn't, creaking open just as he was about to reach for the handle.
Shrugging off the short exchange of sudden luck, he bent down, just able to squeeze his small body through its hinges. Just as he was about to break into an all out run, he was met with a concrete wall, the force sending him straight to the ground. He recovered as quickly as he could, the air not wanting to flow through his lungs as fast as he would have liked. Clapping his hands, he pressed them against the wall, waiting for his alchemy to work. And waited. And waited. Clapping once more, he touched the wall, but no blue light came.
Tears of manic frustration brimmed at his eyes, his tired frustration getting the better of him. Without thinking, he punched the concrete, creating a decent sized crack, but nothing more. Gritting his teeth and letting any type of consequence fall past his thoughts, he punched it over and over until there was a hole, letting his heavy black boots do the rest of the work.
Ignoring the pain that was searing through his left shoulder and down through his side, he kicked out just enough of the blocking substance to get through, dust infiltrating his lungs. A coughing fit easily ravaged over him, but he let it, making his legs run faster than they were supposed to. His eyes turned to slits as he adjusted to the darkness that hovered over him, but as he made his way down the long corridor, another door awaited him, this one much larger than the first and a hell of a lot heavier.
Clenching his jaw, he pulled on its handle, it barely even budging. Closing his eyes tight, he tried once more, gaining just enough space to stick his foot in, then his arm. Feeling the tightness press against his chest as he pushed himself through, he took in a deep breath, silently praying to a God he thought not to exist. He could feel the breath being squeezed out of him as he became stuck between being one step to rescuing his little brother and being crushed to death between the door and the wall.
"Dammit!" he cursed, pushing himself a bit too hard. He didn't dare open his eyes, hearing a sickening crack come from his rib cage as he forced his small body through to the other side, landing in a heap as the heavy door slammed behind him. Too thankful to care, he got to his feet, pain electrocuting his side.
His brain told his legs to move and so they did, taking him to the center of the factory, a staircase set directly in the wide open space. His mouth edged open slightly as he saw how far it rose up, inwardly knowing it would take forever to get up them, but he had no other choice.
Clutching his side, he ran towards the towering sight, a shadow hovering above him. He ascended the staircase, clasping desperately onto its railing, gritting his teeth as the sound of more bones cracking rattled his ear drums. A pained sob escaped his lips, the boy silently cursing it as he continued to force his tired limbs up the metal object.
"Brother! Please! Why are you doing this?" Alphonse's terrified voice descended into the twelve year old's ears, only making him even more pissed that he couldn't get there sooner.
He'd made it up about thirty feet before he realized there were footsteps echoing after his. Instinct and reflex kicked in, the boy stopping abruptly and bending down, clapping his hands together and pressing them against the stairs that were underneath his feet; but nothing happened.
"What the hell is going on?" the frustrated cry escaped his lips, held back tears spilling involuntarily onto his cheeks. "Why isn't it working? I don't understand!"
"It's not working because it doesn't exist here," a voice came from below, he recognizing it instantly.
"No," the whisper conquered his breath, his grip tightening on the metal railing, fear rising up in his soul. "No," it came again, his golden eyes shimmering with unrequited horror. He backed up quickly, stumbling up the steps two at a time, though his short legs were hindering his progress. He fell, his chin hitting the edge of a step, the metal slicing the flesh right open, crimson blood decorating the stairs below him. Pain riveted up his jaw bone and through his skull, the fresh wound oozing out more blood the faster his heart pounded.
"You can't get away, Edward. You can keep running, but I'll be right behind you," a female's voice resonated through his hearing, soft lips pressing against his sensitive ears. "And there's nothing that you can do about it either," she added, a devious laugh befalling the child's ears.
Something made him turn his head and look directly at the originator of the words, dull green eyes staring back at him marked with such hate it almost made the boy wish he were dead at the moment.
"M-Mom," the word uttered from his quivering lips, his golden eyes locked on hers. No matter how hard he tried to look away, he couldn't, eerily mesmerized by the hope that some type of love would appear in them; but much to his dismay, they stayed in torture mode, haunting him with every second he was forced to look into them.
"Aw, look at my little man, so weak and pathetic! Your father would be ashamed, Edward. First you let me die, then you try to bring me back and you couldn't even do that right! Look at yourself! And your brother! How could you do that to Alphonse? How?" she screeched in his ears, her surprisingly sharp nails digging into his sunken cheeks.
"I-I-I don't know!" he cried out, trying his damnedest to back away but only getting pulled closer to the woman. He could feel his flesh being torn into, her nails continuing to dig into the soft flesh, or what was left of it for that matter. "Please...please..."
"Please what, Edward? Please, what?" she shouted, wrapping her hands around his throat. "Please forgive you for the terrible things you've done?" she screamed, the sight suddenly changing before him. It was replaced with another female, her emerald eyes now locked into his as well. "You don't deserve to live, alchemist," Lydia LaShea's voice penetrated his hearing, sending a new batch of chills down his spine.
"You thought you were so strong and so brave, didn't you, child? But you weren't. Not at all. Your little brother and those—those dogs had to come to your rescue! The only thing you were able to prove is how weak you truly are!" the woman's shrill tone emanated through his skull, his body finally starting to shake under the pressure that was silently building in his soul. She stared at him, grey strands of decomposing hair tickling his face, making him squirm even more.
"Go away." His voice was barely audible, reduced to a tenth of its normal volume. He couldn't help but quaver under the woman's grasp, her nails now digging into his throat, blood trickling out of the small wounds she was making, quite happily at that.
"Does it hurt?" Her voice was now as low as his as she pressed her lips against his cheek, disgustingly hot breath gracing his face, nausea riling in the back of his stomach.
The boy was silent in his reply, trying as hard as he could to pry her hands away from his bloodied neck, but the harder he tried, the seemingly stronger she became. And it didn't help that his body was starting to deceive him as well. Whatever strength he did have was starting to wane, but he couldn't give up now...Al needed him.
"Al, I'm coming," the words escaped through his grit teeth, a minute amount of air barely making it into his lungs. Closing his eyes tight, he brought his knee up, wedging it between the woman and himself, and then kicked, knocking her back. He watched in dizzied horror as she fell back against the metal stairs, a loud crack echoing throughout his ears. He tried to run, to get away from the sight that was awaiting him at the bottom of the stairs, but it was as though his feet were glued to the spot, his legs trembling weakly beneath him.
The groan that met his ears was almost as worse as the thing that was starting to ascend the staircase, it crawling slowly and unevenly towards him, its neck twisted at an angle that was anything but human.
The twelve year old shook his head violently, clenching his jaw so tight that a few of his teeth broke, breaking away inside of his already blood-filled mouth. "I-I'm coming, Al," he whispered, the crimson substance spilling over his lips, trailing down to his already blood covered chin. Gripping the railing, he forced his left foot to the next step, then his right, not able to see the remains of the woman that were now speedily crawling up towards him, preparing to strike once more. Inadvertently glancing back, he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, his foot nearly slipping on the next step. "Dammit!" he cursed, taking in as much air as his lungs could hold before pushing himself forward, trying his hardest to ignore the sound that was at his feet.
"You can't get away!" she hissed, her hand brushing against his heel. "You're not strong enough, child! You're as weak as they come! Pathetic little brat!" more words came, taunting his ears with each syllable.
"Get away from me, you old hag!" Edward cried out, kicking backwards in the woman's direction, his heart nearly failing him when he heard it connect.
"Why, little big Brother? Why are you hurting me?"
He recognized that voice. Only foolish naiveté made him stop, even though he knew what truly mattered the most was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
"Nina," he breathed, coming to a halt and turning around, terror struck across his face. "Nina," Ed repeated, just as breathlessly, his golden eyes lit with fear and pain.
She was holding onto the metal step just below the one he was on, her blue eyes gleaming up at him, tears riveting down her cherubic cheeks. Blood littered her small body from head to toe, even her brown hair was covered in it, strands of chocolate locks slicked with the crimson substance. And as the boy took it all in, he saw where it was coming from. She was sliced open from the back of her neck straight down to her tail bone, flesh hanging limply from the gaping wound.
"Help me!" she pleaded in the most innocent corrupted tone the twelve year old had ever heard, his soul starting to crack in two at his unwillingness to help her. He couldn't even lift a hand, all he could do was stare as she looked up at him, her face as pale as the moonlight that was casting its rays down outside. "Pwease, Edword, pwease! Help me! It hurts!"
"I-I'm sorry, Nina." His voice was barely above a whisper as he turned, closing his eyes tight, too embarrassed to let the figment of his own imagination see him cry. "But I've got to save, Al. I'm sorry." And with that, he took off up the stairway, hearing every torturous scream and cry that emanated from the little girl's lips, adding another notch to his self-inflicted punishment bar.
He made it to the top, only to find a hallway decorated with pictures, and the further along he went, the worse the images got. Visions of the day his mother died swam past him as he tried to block it all out but was unable to, his golden orbs being forced to look at the worst times of his life. Images of the failed transmutation circled around his head, his brother's body there one minute and gone in the next picture verifying the failure that had been his constant ghost ever since that day.
Pictures of the monster the two boys had created floated past him, its harrowing eyes staring straight into his, even the noises that it made deafened his hearing. He wanted to scream and shout so badly, but he knew it would all be fruitless in the end. No matter what he did, they wouldn't go away, and the only thing he could do was run faster, hoping he could get to his little brother before it was too late.
As he drew closer to the door that awaited him at the very end of the hall, one last picture was cast on his eyesight. The four faces that it were comprised of were all too familiar, his being one of them. He gazed at it, saddened by how beautiful yet melancholy it seemed. There were the faces of a family that no longer existed, it having been shattered ages ago; yet somewhere deep inside the child, he wished that it could have, and they all could have been happy. But that wasn't the life he was intended to live, which only made the sight of the picture dig deeper into his soul and consume him.
He forced his golden orbs to look straight, and as they did, they were met with the sight of yet another door, only this one was made of glass, giving him entry only with his eyes. Edward ran to it, grabbing desperately for a knob that wasn't there. Horrified, he glanced down, knowing his little brother was in there suffering, but as he looked up, what met his pupils was a scene of despair.
Alphonse lay in the center of the room, in the middle of one of the most complicated arrays the boy had ever lay eyes on. The eleven year old was encased in it, seemingly held down by an invisible force. He was screaming and shouting and pleading, but who he was pleading to, was Edward.
The twelve year old gaped in sheer terror as he watched himself circle the younger boy, laughing and talking about how he had "finally figured it out" and that "it was so simple." He could hear Alphonse continuing to scream, begging for his life, but the other Edward wouldn't hear it, still ranting and raving and talking about how "it will all be over soon."
"Al! Al! I'm right here, Al!" Edward screamed, pounding on the glass door that apparently couldn't be broken. "Alphonse! It's me, Ed! Al!" he cried out, his fists banging repeatedly on the transparent door. He tried hitting it harder, but still nothing happened. He couldn't even put a crack in it. Tears coasted down his cheeks, making crystalline trails through the blood that coated the boy's face. Not giving up, he continued to hit the glass, his flesh hand becoming a bloody mess, his skin being the only thing that was cracking at the moment.
"Close your eyes, dear, Brother. It's almost over," he heard himself say through the window of horror. And before he knew it, the transmutation array was lit with blue light once more, and the only thing that encompassed his being was the sound of his little brother screaming his name; then there was silence. Complete, and devastating silence.
The twelve year old opened his eyes slowly, only to see his younger brother gone, and himself restored, left arm and right leg flesh once more. He peered through the glass, tears still conquering his worn visage. The other Edward stood up slowly, admiring his new limbs with a grin that could only be described as sadistic, which chilled the still automail-armed Edward right to the bone. He could hear himself mumbling "no" over and over again, and apparently the other boy could too.
The glass door suddenly broke into thousands of tiny particles, flying this way and that, the sound bursting into the young boy's ears. He immediately recoiled, though he could still feel his flesh being torn by the shards that were flying at him a mile a minute. Edward fell to his knees, shielding himself as best he could, but the damage had already been done.
Crunching glass met his ears, curiosity making his golden orbs open. He fell back as he saw the other boy standing in front of him, grin still planted firmly in place, both of his hands reaching out for the real Edward's neck.
"Get away from me!" Ed shouted, though it sounded more like a hoarse whisper, his voice deceiving him. He pushed away, ignoring the pieces of glass that were now tearing open his hand and leg.
The other Edward looked down at him, his grin widening, his arms still outstretched. "Don't you see what you could have had?" the imitation asked, its golden eyes brimming with hate.
"I would rather stay like this for the rest of my life than do that to my little brother! You're sick, you bastard!" the twelve year old cried out, his voice becoming almost nonexistent, still trying desperately to back away.
"You fool, you just don't realize. It really is simple. Just use your little brother as material to get back what you've lost...I don't know why it took me so long..."
"Shut up! Just shut the hell up!" the words exploded from the child's mouth. He frantically pushed himself to his feet, staggering a bit as he tried to catch his balance, still not believing the sights his eyes had been forced to see. "I've got to get him back...I've got to...Al...," he muttered, his golden eyes dancing with manic terror.
The other Edward watched intently as the twelve year old continued to back up, his feet almost at the edge of the steps. He smiled, his grin wicked with deviousness. "Just a little more," he murmured, making sure to catch the other boy's hearing.
"What?" Ed blinked, glancing back, and just as he did, two hands pushed against his chest, sending him down the spiral he had worked so hard to climb up. He awoke just before his head met the metal stairs.
&&&&&
"This must be the place," Hughes announced thankfully, running a hand through his hair.
"According to this, the nearest inn should be approximately half a kilometer east," First Lieutenant Hawkeye stated, raising her gaze from the map. Her cinnamon colored eyes barely caught the Lieutenant Colonel's staring at her, but it was quickly avoided as he followed her directions, heading towards the mark on the map. "Sir?" she asked, as he made a sudden turn, soon realizing what his first destination truly was.
"I'll be right back!" Hughes called out, running for a phone booth. "Gracia's been waiting for my phone call all afternoon!" he added before disappearing into one of the small cubicles.
Shaking her head, she returned to following in the Lieutenant Colonel's footsteps, they leading to the doctor's office that was printed in the newspaper. Quietly, she made her way to her usual place, by his side.
"What in the world would those two be doing here?" he muttered, staring at the dim and dreary looking office, blocked off by police tape.
"I think you already know the answer to that question, sir," she replied, her eyes coming across the large CLOSED sign that hung on the door, obviously for good.
"Possibly," he muttered, his brow narrowing. "But one can only wonder what's actually going through their minds. They may be young, but they're way of thinking isn't." He paused, his reflection staring back at him from the darkened windows. "Not all the time anyway," he added with a slight smirk, hardly noticeable among the hardened gaze that graced his visage.
"They can't be too far away." She wanted to believe the words she had just said, but for some reason, it almost seemed foolish to think that way. But with the way the Lieutenant Colonel was acting, any form of positivity couldn't hurt, or apparently help for that matter.
"If Edward is injured, Alphonse won't stop until he comes across..." He let his words trail away, feeling like an idiot for finally realizing what the two boys had come to Landon for. "They must have found something out, a reason for them to change direction." Ignoring the yellow tape, he tried the door, his instinct on spot. It opened easily, the police as unintelligent as he had suspected they were.
"Sir? What are you doing?" Hawkeye questioned cautiously, casting a nervous glance towards the man who had obviously lost his mind.
"What's it look like I'm doing?" he answered casually, politely making his way inside the closed building.
"But, sir, isn't that illegal?" the blond asked, hesitantly following him in, careful to watch their backs, as was her normal fashion. Her hand immediately positioned itself on her gun, knowing how important it was to never let her guard down, this being one of those times.
"The last time I checked, the military had a little more power than any local police department that I know of," came the sarcastic reply, the First Lieutenant immediately regretting the curious question. She should have known.
"What exactly are you looking for, sir?" the inquiry parted her lips, hand still planted firmly on the weapon.
"The boys obvious found something in here that will lead them closer to the Philosopher's Stone. I just hope that whatever it is, they didn't take it with them," Mustang replied, entering the Doctor's main office. His onyx eyes instantly fell on the man's desk, blood still splattered across it. Now, where most people would have recoiled when stumbling upon such a sight, Mustang ignored the now rust colored substance and headed immediately for the deceased's file cabinets, inwardly hoping there would be something locked away intended for the Doctor's eyes only.
Riza kept a watchful eye on the man before searching herself, her cinnamon colored eyes landing on the bloody papers that blanketed the man's desk. Reluctantly, she leaned forward, the sound of the Lieutenant Colonel picking the lock in the background of her mind. Her brow narrowed, curiosity getting the better of her. Carefully, she picked up the newspaper clippings, taking note that they were at least twenty years old.
"Sir, perhaps you should take a look at this," Hawkeye suggested, handing over the clippings, making sure not to touch the crimson spots. "I think it might give us a clue as to where the boys are headed."
The Lieutenant Colonel took it, his onyx eyes scanning the headline.
Doctor Found Dead Under Mysterious Circumstances
"History truly does repeat itself," he quipped, raising a slightly amused brow.
A Doctor traveling through the neighboring town of Kiase was apparently found murdered in the home of one of his supposed patients. The house belonged to that of Lydia and Damien LaShea, though neither of the two were present at the time the body was found.
The victim was found by his assistant, one Timothy Hocram. The victim's throat had been slashed; reports state he also suffered from various other wounds on his body.
Though there have been contesting reports, one eyewitness claims the victim had various alchemic arrays carved onto his body, making the death and its reason even more suspicious. Local police have not yet issued a statement either confirming or denying the claim.
Doctor Raine Pierson left behind a wife and two children. Funeral arrangements have not yet been made, but are expected to take place in the victim's hometown of Renégauld within the coming week. The investigation is still undergoing.
"Isn't that interesting," the Lieutenant Colonel murmured sarcastically under his breath.
"Have you heard of this other Doctor before, sir?" Riza questioned, staring down at the black and white-inked page.
"Can't say that I have. It's possible, but I highly doubt it. Then again...," his voice trailed off, his brow narrowing. "We'll leave first thing in the morning. As much as I'd like to, I know better than to try our luck at night. And I'm sure those two wouldn't either." Tucking the clippings into his pocket, he turned, making his way to the door, but before his hand could reach the knob, it opened before him.
&&&&&
"Al!" Edward woke with a start, his golden orbs wide with fright. Before he could say another word, an unidentified object was stuffed in his mouth, making his eyes bulge even wider. A muffled, "Hey," came out of his mouth before he even though about removing whatever it was that was still in there. With a narrowed brow, he removed the object with slightly shaking hands, taking note that it was now a saliva covered sweet roll. "What was that for? Hey, where are we?" he muttered, glancing around the quiet room.
"We're at an inn in Rawling," Al explained, his voice oddly serious. Before Edward could respond, the sweet roll he'd taken out of his mouth was replaced with another, pissing the kid off before he even had enough time to think about it.
"Stop that! Geez, Al," the twelve year old mumbled, sitting up in the bed, the blankets slowly rolling off of him to reveal a partially clad alchemist, black under shirt with blue boxers. "Give me a minute to at least wake up! I've still got sleep in my eyes!" he huffed, rubbing the substance from his orbs with his fists.
"You need to eat," Alphonse murmured, in a sitting position on a chair by the older boy's bed. He was sitting up straight, his soul-filled eyes dazedly cast on his older brother, though his mind was another world away, worries bounding through his shell.
"I will, if you'd just give me a minute," the other boy muttered, stretching. "Ow!" he yelped, pain immediately shooting through his leg the moment he moved it. He glanced down at it, feelings of guilt overwhelming him as he saw the fresh bandage that was wrapped around it. "And here I was supposed to be the one looking after you." His tone was wistful, yet rueful, a glaze falling over his eyes. He played with the top blanket for a moment, twirling the woolen material in his flesh fingertips before glancing up at the seemingly stoic expression that marked his brother's metallic face. Even if the metal couldn't reveal his little brother's true feelings, they were so strong that they practically emanated off the steel, only making the older boy feel worse.
"You do look after me, Brother. I'm still here, aren't I?" The eleven year old's tone struck a chord within the other boy, and even though Alphonse more than likely meant well by the comment, it only made Ed think just how much his little brother missed his real body. Would the younger boy have been better off leaving this plane completely, disappearing altogether instead of returning as he was, as a steel, expressionless body of armor? The question now haunted the State Alchemist's mind almost every waking minute, torment getting the better of him.
"Yeah," Edward replied, his voice distant. Absentmindedly, he picked at the two rolls, tearing them into almost inedible pieces, laying them out in front of him. The silence that came from his little brother only made the ability to eat them seem even more trying. Carefully, he picked a piece up, slipping it through his lips and onto his tongue, inwardly knowing that it was supposed to taste good and should be devoured like anything delicious should; but just seeing that longing look in the eyes that were watching him made the boy want to toss the things out the window and forget his greedy hands had ever touched them.
"What are you so afraid of?" the question tumbled out of the suit of armor, the metallic substance clanking slightly as Al turned his head to stare at his older brother, the other boy picking at the remains of the sweet rolls as if they were dead bugs or something of the like.
"What?" Ed asked, immediately looking up, blonde bangs sweeping across his face, gracing the tip of his nose. Al never witnessed the boy appearing so innocent before, except for perhaps, when he was sleeping. That was when the older boy looked the most innocent and vulnerable, which only made the younger boy even more remorseful, knowing it was his fault that the twelve year old was in pain most of the time, physically and mentally.
"What are you so afraid of, Brother? Are your dreams really that bad?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. He continued to stare at the older boy, afraid of what was going to befall his hearing.
"What are you talking about, Al?" the nonchalant tone forced its way out of Edward's lips, a playful smile sliding across his visage. It was far too late. The younger sibling could see right through the transparent happiness that the older boy tried so desperately to perfect.
Alphonse stood without saying another word. Metal clanked miserably through the space between them as the eleven year old made his way to the only window in the room, his heavy gauntlets laying slack at his sides. Slowly, they started to clench, signs of anger starting to resurface.
"Al?" Ed questioned softly, worry painting his now downcast face. He stopped playing with the food, the way his brother was acting scaring him. "You okay?" he added, pushing the blankets off him as he dared stand to his feet. The action was cut short as a shout erupted through the room, stopping him with one foot on the floor.
"Why can't you just tell me the truth?" Alphonse exploded, turning to face the suddenly surprised State Alchemist, the twelve year old's eyes wide with confusion and fear.
"Al, what are you—" His easily predictable question was cut off by another cry, this one more fierce than the first.
"Why do you pretend that you're always alright? That everything's okay when you and I both know it's not?" He paused, his normally reserved voice rising more decibels than Ed could count. "Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean a thing, and you know it, Brother! You don't always have to act so strong! Or so—so invincible! You're not a god! And you're not perfect! So why do you do it? Why can't you just be honest with me and tell me the truth?"
The older boy was momentarily speechless, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of words from his younger brother. The room resonated with silence, the sound of his heart beating blocking almost everything else out. He was frozen, like a dear caught in headlights.
"I-I don't know, Al," he finally muttered, his hurt gaze meeting the floor. "I guess I just don't want you to worry," Ed answered, knowing it was a half-ass excuse. There would be no reasoning with the grown-up eleven year old today.
"Well, of course I'm going to worry, Ed!" he shouted immediately following the blonde's reply. "Every time you try to hide something from me, that gives me even more reason to worry! And I know when you're hiding something, Brother. No matter how much you think you're doing a good job of keeping something from me, I know," he stated, staring straight away at his older brother, growing even more upset when he realized the older boy couldn't even make eye contact with him. "And look at me when I'm talking to you!" he added, frustration aplenty in his tone, his gauntlets flailing exasperatedly through the air.
Edward jumped at the comment, his head jerking up at the order. Invisible tears danced in his eyes, he trying hard to choke back the lump that had settled in his throat. He clenched his jaw, the action visible through his hallowed out cheeks, making the anger level rise even more in the younger boy(if that were at all possible).
"Yeah, you're right, Al. I'm sorry," the unexpected apology came, seemingly frustrating the younger boy once more.
"So, that's it? That's it, Ed?" he questioned heatedly, folding his steel arms across his chest plate. "You're just agreeing with me so I'll shut up, aren't you?" the younger boy asked, stepping forward, the floorboards creaking underneath his weight.
"No, Al, that's not it," the twelve year old tried to justify, knowing he was going down a dead end road. "It's just—you're right. I shouldn't treat you like that. But if you were me, you'd understand why," he stated, golden locks still hanging gracefully in his face.
"Why don't you explain it to me then, Brother? Because if there was something wrong with me, you'd be the first to know." The eleven year old's tone was firm but honest, Ed-like stubbornness radiating off of him.
"And I appreciate that, Al, but you've got to understand, I'm your older brother. I-I promised I would take care of you..." His voice wavered slightly, biting his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. "I promised Mom I wouldn't let anything happen to you...And look at you now."
"When are you going to get it through your thick skull that it was both of us—not just you, and not just me, but both of our faults, Ed? I wanted her back too, and even though I had the feeling that something bad was going to happen, I still went along with it. You didn't force me to." He stood directly in front of the small State Alchemist, obviously not even giving the thought of backing down a second chance. He wanted this settled and he wanted it settled now.
"But it was my idea in the first place," the other boy replied, his voice hanging on the edge of a whisper. The moment the tear spilled over and ran down his cheek, he wiped it away with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing at his weakness. Why couldn't he be stronger? Why? He didn't want to cry anymore, but just thinking about all the things he had done wrong and all the people he had let down made him feel even worse, the ability to control his tear ducks faltering.
The room fell silent for a moment, the soul-filled eyes that haunted the armored shell echoing the boy's sadness and anger. His superficial gaze left his older brother, drifting to the hard wood floor. "You know, Brother, I almost turned back to Central," the words left the metallic body, immediately drawing the attention of the twelve year old.
"Al, you're making too big a deal out of such a little thing. I'm fine. I might be a little banged up, but nothing that's going to prevent me from searching for the Stone," Edward stated as defiantly as he could, trying to appear more well than he was, but Al didn't even need to look at him to know he was lying this time.
"Am I, Ed?" the trembling voice emanated from the younger boy, his helmet slowly turning to face his older brother once more. "The last time I checked, you losing your other leg wasn't apart of the plan." He stood up straighter, trying to fight the emotion that was taking control of his tone.
The State Alchemist scoffed at the last remark, shrugging off the comment as though it were nothing. "Oh, come on, Al! My leg wasn't nearly that bad! It was just a scratch!" He tried to laugh it off, but the task was fruitless, the pain evident in his false showcase of laughter.
"That wound was not just a scratch, Edward! Dr. Hocram told me that if I would have gotten you there any later, you could've lost it!" Alphonse shouted, his stance stiffening.
Inwardly, the older boy recoiled at the thought, knowing his little brother was ultimately telling the truth, regardless of whether he wanted to hear it or not. "Well, I'm fine now so quit worrying about it!" Ed shot back, taking a minute to realize his words were a mistake. He stood to his feet, acting as though the pain that was searing through his leg wasn't there, but his face told a different story.
"I can't!" the younger boy retaliated, stepping up to the smaller boy, his soul-filled eyes flickering with emotion his metal body couldn't show. "Just because Mom died doesn't mean you had to stop caring about yourself, Brother!"
"That was two years ago, Al," the twelve year old stated in a deathly low tone, his voice deepening slightly as he spoke through a clenched jaw. His brow narrowed, golden strands of his fine hair getting in his eyes.
"And nothing's changed, has it?" Alphonse questioned, not letting their eye contact be broken. He held his ground, prepared to do whatever it took to knock some sense into his older brother.
Edward opened his mouth slightly, hesitating at his next words. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hurt laced in his tone. His golden orbs glimmered with defeated resilience, a pained expression making its way to his pale visage.
"Nothing," Al mumbled, backing away, guilt snaking its way around his soul. As soon as his gauntlet touched the doorknob, Ed's voice met his hearing.
"Where are you going?" the twelve year old demanded, doing his best to hide the limp that confiscated his right leg as he made his way over to his little brother.
"I'm going to get you something to eat," he replied, his voice low in volume. He opened the door, the suit of armor instantly tensing as he felt a hand wrap around his metallic wrist. "Don't, Ed," he mumbled, his gauntlet balling into an involuntary fist.
"It's the middle of the night, Al. I can get something to eat in the morning," Edward surprisingly tried to reason, tugging slightly on the large metal shell. "Nothing's probably open anyway," he added, hoping his little brother would listen to him.
"Brother, out of the entire time we've been gone from Central, I've had to carry you almost everywhere. Do you know why?" It was a trick question, of course, at least to Edward it was. "Because you were too weak to walk on your own. That's why," he answered his own question, knowing Ed wouldn't have dared to, more than likely out of embarrassment. Slowly, he felt the grip loosen, the older boy's face falling downcast once more. "I'll be back in a little while," he stated, inwardly feeling bad as he stepped out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He couldn't bare to see that look on his older brother's face again. Not tonight anyway.
Author's note : I am so, so sorry that it took me over two weeks to update. I've been working like crazy, so I had no time to do anything. Plus, I was out of town for a little while and will be again for the next three days. I only hope it doesn't take me as long to update next time around.
THANK YOU all so much for your kind and supportive reviews. I appreciate each and every single one of them, and I can't express enough how truly grateful I am for them. So many, many THANKS goes to Aemilia Rose, ssj2raider, Akamori-chan, Annabele Lee, Roy-Fan-33, Me and My God Complex, JChrys, Legendary Chimera, ThePatheticWriter, marufu-chan, Mistress of Darkness, Hitokiri Musei, Weavers, hyperdude, Harryswoman, Shattered Mirror01, CrystalMind, queenstrudel, iceprincess421, DarkAmber112, and EVERY single one of you who has me on a list. I am extremely thankful, everyone.
Hope to hear from each of you!
P.s. The title of the chapter was actually going to be the title of the story, but then something made me change my mind. Okay, I'm done. ; )
No, wait, no I'm not. I tried to do Nina's dialog as best I could, and spelling everything the way I did was the only way I could portray her four year old voice. Now I'm done. XD