The Cycle of Pain and Hope

By Teenangel

Summary: a different ending to FMA, reaching from Alphonse getting his body back, to far into the future. Not what you expect at all! Blood, violence. Future fic. edxwinry alxelysia spoilers.

Author's note: some things may not be accurate to the anime, bear with me. And I swear this story has a happy ending!

Disclaimer: Got bored the day after finals, college student, so broke, wouldn't even bother.

2006

Alan Elric drew a circle on the ground in front of his great grandparent's grave, Edward and Winry Elric. His Grandma Allison had explained how she would make flowers for them every year. Alan was a smart little boy, he knew grandma was getting old, she wouldn't be able to make the flowers someday.

He pressed a palm on the circle and daisies popped up from the cool fall ground. He sat there crossed legged, braiding them into a wreath; he still couldn't form it automatically into a circle with Alchemy, but his mom was teaching him to control the details more. A crooked oval of flowers was placed on the tombstone.

"See Great Grandpa Ed, I'm gonna be a great Alchemist like you some day," he then noticed the other graves in the small Resembool cemetery. A couple more circles and tedious work, and he'd made two more wreaths for Trisha Elric, and Elysia and Al Elric-Hughes.

"That's very sweet of you," said a solemn voice, almost childlike.

Alan turned around, facing a man in his early-forties with short dirty blond hair and brown eyes, "Thanks Al. Are you named after that Al?" he pointed to the stone.

Al's face seemed drained, "Yes, yes I am, just like you. We're…cousins, remember."

"No," he grumbled, "Grandma Allison tried to tell me, but the family tree is to messy."

The older man laughed, "Messy, I'd say that's a good word for it," he ruffled up the boy's hair, "Now, I came here cause you're mother sent me, they're all packed and ready to return to Central."

"I like the country," Alan whined, marching back to the road, "Bye, Al."

Al waved and then turned standing in front of Edward's grave and cried.

XXXXXXXXX

Alan, the blond lightening bolt, burst through the doors into his grandmother's office, bounced on the couch before taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of her redwood desk. Ali ignored her grandson's entrance, as if he was any other subordinate. She sat in her blue uniform, gray hair pulled into tree separate braids, and then braided into one—less complicated then it looked.

"I came for a mission," her grandson piped.

"Really," she didn't look up, but signed a paper, flipped it onto a pile, and began filling out another form.

"Yes," he nodded, creating a lower voice, "I think I'm ready for a mission."

"Well, this could be difficult, but could you get me the red book on the top shelf in the back?"

Alan hopped out of the chair. She watched him intently as he stared up six feet to the shelf, and then began frantically trying to find a way to reach it. None of the chairs in the room were tall enough. And the tables were even shorter. The file cabinet wouldn't budge from the other side of the room—pity, he could use the drawers as steps.

Ali quietly opened a draw, a chucked a "hint" across the room. A piece of chalk landed in front of him. Aha! He drew a simple transmutation on the floor and placed the two chairs into it— and made a chair ladder. He returned proudly with the book.

"Thank you," she said, putting it aside, "now how about a hug,"

He lunged onto her lap, "I missed you grandma."

The door creaked open, small blue eyes peered in half covered with slick black hair, "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but—"

"You may enter Colonel Mustang."

The soldier marched in and handed her a folder, "My report, Furher Elric."

"Thank you," she placed it on top of the book, "this here is my grandson, I don't think you've met."

Alan ran up to him, "Hi, I'm Alan Roy Elric, and someday I'm gonna be a colonel, too."

"You like kids, Maes Mustang," she said, "I have to go to Parliment, I'm sure you could help him with his alchemy."

He smiled down at the kid, whose middle name was that of his grandfather, "Yes, mam, I'm sure we'll have fun."

"Good," she said, "you can start by reconstructing my chairs."

XXXXXXXX

Ali returned to her office exhausted from listening to men bicker politics--a bunch of hot air. She sat in her chair, pushing aside paperwork, hoping Maes Mustang and Alan were having a good time. That soldier needed to chill more often, always trying to live up to his Grandfather's reputation, the great Major General Roy Mustang. She remembered him, not so great, obsessed with having female officers in mini-skirts.

The phone rang, "Yes?"

"Furher," said her secretary, "a man named Al Elric has called."

Al, call here? Her muscles tightened, "Patch him through," click, "Al?"

"Hey Ali, I—," his sweet voice cracked into sadness, and sobs echoed on the other end.

"Should I come?" she said strongly, implying she would anyway.

"Yes, thank you." He hung up.

Click, "Yes, Furher," said the secretary.

Ali tapped her finger on the desk, "Tell my grandson that are visit couldn't be longer today, but something important has come up." Something very important.