II
Reminiscence

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rewind

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It's been at least half an hour, and Ed still can't bring himself to tear his gaze from his mother. Somehow, he's forgotten how beautiful she is...her hair and eyes and smile and...

Even if this is only a dream, it's the most wonderful he's had in years.

The Rockbells have left, though Granny sent Ed a piercing look before the door closed behind her. It's strange to see her like this, the way she was ten years ago...her face isn't quite as lined; her hair is a little less gray...but at least she's a familiar face in these strange circumstances.

Uncle Rockbell and his mom, on the other hand...

He's watching her every move, now, as she bustles around the kitchen, making dinner. There is a crease in her brow—surely, she is worried about her younger set of sons—but as she catches Ed's eye, she beams reassuringly at him.

(He finds himself unable to breathe, because this is far too real and far too painful but he can't decide whether he wants to wake up.)

"Do you two still like stew?" Her melodious voice carries across the kitchen as she chops carrots. Ed almost forgets to answer; he is too wrapped up in his mother.

"'Course, it's the best."

(He does his best to inject cheer into his voice, be happy for her, because that's what she deserves, but...)

He's watching, from the corner of his eye, as Al seems to shrink in his chair; his shoulders slump; his face is downcast, as if he's staring a hole through his hands. And even though the heavy weight of his guilt and shame has burdened Ed for four years (it's his fault his brother's life is ruined), he doesn't think it's ever been as strong as it is now...

Because Al can't experience this miracle—not really. He can see their mom and their old house, can hear her voice and the birds outside, but he can't do anything else. He can't smell the unique scent their house had always contained; he can't feel the smooth wood of the table they know so well; he can't taste his mother's cooking...

Whatever Ed is feeling, whatever this cacophony of hysterical emotions is within his heart, he knows it's so much worse for Al.

So lost in his thoughts, he doesn't realize his mother has returned to the table until the steaming bowl of stew is placed before him. "Eat as much as you want—there's plenty more in the pot," she says, smiling at both of them before moving to retrieve her own bowl.

Al makes a small, distressed sound, and as Ed looks over, his head has sunk even lower. "Mom...I'm sorry, I can't eat this..."

Ed must swallow down a thick lump in his throat as their mom turns, the crease in her brow more pronounced. "Would you like something else?" It seems to take her a moment to understand his body language...which, Ed supposes, is impressive in and of itself. Not many people can..."Honey, what's wrong?"

"I—it's the—the armor I'm wearing...I can't take it off..."

Something like alarm spreads across her face as she rushes toward him. "What do you mean, you can't take it off? Is it stuck? Did that transmutation—Edward, could you use alchemy to—?"

"It's—it's not stuck," Al says slowly, pushing her hands away gently as they reach for his head. "It's just..."

He glances toward Ed, obviously out of ideas, so he jumps in without really thinking—"It's part of our alchemy training. Our teacher wants us to train our bodies too, so she has us wear the armor to make us stronger."

He's surprised at how level his voice is as he tells the lie...surprised that he says it at all. Every instinct in his body is screaming at him to tell the truth, because she's their mother and she always knows when they're lying... But a larger, more desperate part of him only asks for her happiness. If they keep Al's condition a secret, keep his automail covered, lie about everything that has happened...

It'll be false; it'll tear him apart...

But him mom, at least, will be happy.

(As long as she believes them, that is.)

The alarmed look on their mom's face does not relax in the slightest; her arms are still half-outstretched as if to physically tear the armor from her son. "But—don't you get hungry—what about showers and—?"

Al's voice wavers the tiniest bit as he answers—"Teacher—she used some sort of transmutation. I don't have to worry about that..."

She hesitates a moment longer; something flickers in her eyes before she lets her arms drop. Ed experiences a brief moment of terror—she doesn't believe us we have to tell her the truth—but she only shakes her head, seating herself next to Al and patting his arm. "Well, if you ever have any problems with it, we'll have to take it off, all right? I don't care what your teacher says—if you're not happy, it's not worth it."

Al inclines his head in a smile and whispers, "Thanks, Mom. You're the best..."

She smiles at them both, beautiful and radiant and perfect, and as Ed slowly begins to eat his stew, he is so caught up in his mother's presence that he misses the way worry flashes through her eyes.

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The two of them are alone for a moment while their mother is in the washroom. Suddenly, there is a pause in the systematic clanking of Al's shoulders as he dries dishes, and Ed knows the question he's going to ask even before he voices it—"Brother...are we really going to be able to do this? Keep everything from her? Maybe if we tell her, she can stop everything and..."

He trails off, and after a moment he resumes drying the lunch bowls. Ed knows Al could be right...knows he's probably right...maybe, if she goes to a doctor sooner, she'd be fine...maybe...

But he doesn't think he could bear telling her everything...not right now...not when those wounds (ever-present but on the way to healing) have been ripped open so suddenly and violently...

He doesn't answer, but Al seems to understand. They finish cleaning the kitchen in silence.

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(He can't decide which is worse: lying to his own mother, or telling her every bit of the horrible truth.)

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As evening turns to night, Ed sees the way their mother casts nervous glances at Al every so often, as if expecting him to keel over or explode or simply cease to exist. The three of them don't talk much as they help with the laundry, the sweeping, setting up makeshift beds for the two of them...

(Al won't be using his—not really—but they need to keep pretending, at least for a while...until they figure out what they can do about all of this.)

Eventually, they're set up in their old room (Ed and Al easily pushed their old cots to the wall), with old mattresses from storage and pillows and blankets. Ed climbs in slowly, careful to leave on socks and gloves, as their mother looks on, a small smile on her face.

"Will you two be all right?" she asks, kneeling down and putting a gentle hand on Al's helmet. She smiles at him for a moment before kissing his forehead. "Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'm right across the hall."

Al makes a noise of agreement, unable to articulate much else. She pulls him into a hug for several seconds before shifting over to Ed, embracing him as well. "You two are so grown up...you'll have to tell me everything that's happened tomorrow, all right?"

Ed can't find it in him to answer, so he only returns the hug gently. She doesn't seem to find this strange, though, for she strokes his hair for a moment before standing up. "I love you guys," she says, and Ed almost forgets to answer; he's too wrapped up in what cannot possibly be real.

"Love you too, Mom."

(As she closes the door quietly behind her, Ed convinces himself that his eyes are stinging only because he's so horribly tired.)

(He won't let himself cry—Al can't cry, and it's his fault, so he isn't allowed that luxury.)

"Brother?" Al's voice is barely audible, thick with some emotion he can't properly express. "Is it—is everything the same?"

Ed has to choke down the lump in his throat before he can answer—"Yeah. Exactly the same...everything..."

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(He doesn't realize, now, that he has not thought once of making it back to where they belong.)

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fastforward

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These people, with their blue uniforms and heavy boots and stern gazes, are scaring Ed more than he wants to admit. Roy, at least, is an alchemist—maybe he isn't so bad. But the woman had looked scary...and the four other men on the side...

(He's only ever heard about guns, seen pictures in books, but Ed is pretty sure the blond man has one in his hand.)

And this new information—that they are in the future—he can barely understand it. The circle they had found—they wanted to see the future, not go to it—

"Do you know how to get back?" Al asks in a very small voice. He almost shushes his little brother, because even if they know this man's name they don't really know anything about him...and Mom always says not to trust strangers. But he realizes quickly that these adults are much bigger than either of them, and they look important...maybe they could help them...

(And if they're not nice people, if they try to hurt Al...well...Ed will never let that happen.)

"I'm...not sure," Roy says, and his brow has lines in it like Mom's so often does when she thinks she's alone. "Could you draw out your circle for me? I've never heard of a transmutation doing this before..."

"It's our dad's," Ed says proudly as he accepts the paper and pen offered to him by the grey-haired man. Of course they remember the circle—they pored over it for weeks, making sure it would work, even though he trusts his father's work unconditionally. Because even if he has to go away for a while, Mom says he'll come back...and Mom is always right.

"That would explain it," Roy mutters, watching with interest as Ed starts to draw the circle. His lines aren't totally straight; his circles aren't perfectly round; Al has always been better at that, with his slow, steady hand. But the geometry is there, along with the complicated runes they've spent hours practicing, and even if it's sketchy, the array is correct.

He passes the paper to Al for him to double-check, wondering what Roy means by his comment earlier. Sure, their dad's name is on a lot of the books they've studied, and Mom always says that he's an amazing alchemist... But Central is very far away from home, isn't it? Is he really that famous?

Roy's eyebrows arch high on his forehead as Al nods and passes the paper to him. "You guys were able to activate this array? You're—what—four and five?"

Ed feels his chest puff out. "Mom says we're real smart 'cause we can do stuff like this. That's why we were gonna do this for her..."

He trails off, though, as the reality of their problem truly hits home. They're stranded in the future, with strange people in a strange place...

All he wants, right now, is his mother's warm arms surrounding him, promising him that everything will be all right.

"Can we go home?" he asks Roy after a moment, apparently breaking him out of deep thought. The man is silent for a moment, sharing a glance with one of the men standing to the side.

"Fuery, see if you can find Hughes and Armstrong..."

Ed is ready to yell indignantly, to tell Roy not to ignore them...but as soon as the other man has left, Roy turns back to them with a very serious expression on his face.

"I'm not sure how to send you back right now...Armstrong is an alchemist, too, and hopefully he'll be able to help me figure out how to reverse this. In the meantime, my friend Hughes will have to take you in..."

Ed huffs impatiently. "I mean, why can't we go to the Resembool from now? With Mom and Dad and—and old Winry and Granny and Aunt and Uncle Rockbell!"

The thought of Winry being old—being one of the teenagers that tower over them in the schoolyard—is a little too weird for Ed, but it's better than staying with these people they don't know. This Hughes person—whoever he is—even if he and Roy are friends, they don't know him at all...Ed wants to stay with someone familiar...

Roy and the woman look at each other for several seconds, but Ed can't imagine why. Central is far away, but there are trains that they could use to get home. It wouldn't be a big deal, right?

"There...isn't a train from here to Resembool for a few weeks," the woman finally says, looking between Ed and Al with a very serious expression. "Your older selves had tickets to get back home, but that train leaves in five minutes, and you don't have tickets."

"But..." Al trails off, his voice wavering as he scoots forward to sit next to Ed. "Isn't there a way to...Mom..."

His eyes are getting wet very quickly, and Ed immediately puts his arm around Al's shoulders. Usually, he'd tell him not to cry, because he's a boy and boys don't cry...but he's not too happy with this situation either. If they can't get home—how can they—

"Your friend Winry is down in Rush Valley for her studies," Roy says slowly, rubbing the top of his nose the way Uncle Rockbell does. "I could try to call her...maybe she could come and stay with you at Hughes', if she isn't too busy..."

"She's where?" Al sounds both confused and alarmed. Ed isn't much better—if they are—ten years in the future—Winry is only fifteen—why is she not at home?

"It's a city with a huge market for automail. As far as I know, she's apprenticing under an engineer there."

It strikes Ed as very odd that Roy knows that—(why were our older selves here in the first place how do they know us)—but before he can ask, the door opens to let in the man from before—Fuery—along with two men in that same blue uniform. It's strange; Ed has never seen anything like it. Where are we?

He doesn't get a chance to ask this, either, because the tall man wearing glasses whistles and squats down next to Roy. "Damn...you weren't kidding, were you? Ed and Al, right?"

"How do you guys know us? Where are we?" Ed's voice is as loud as he can make it, as terrifying and protective as possible. He knows these people won't hurt him, but he's more than a little terrified at this point. Why aren't they in Resembool? Why are their older selves with all these strange people? Where is their mother and why can't they go home?

"You guys—well, your older selves—were here for a—a field trip," Glasses-man says, and something in his eyes begs Ed to calm down. He's not quite the same as Roy and the others; he seems kinder, almost like...

Like Dad.

"And you two stayed to talk to Roy about his alchemy, since you're trying to learn everything you can, and then—well—apparently you showed up."

Roy nods through this explanation, so Ed takes it as the truth. But—"Where is here? Why did school take us to Central?" He's never heard of the older kids coming so far away...

"It's—Central Command. The military, the people who run the country. Roy and Armstrong are State Alchemists," the man says, smiling gently. Roy digs in his pocket for a moment before producing a big silver thing on a chain, a larger version of what Dad wears...a watch.

Ed isn't sure what a State Alchemist is, exactly—he hasn't read much at all about Amestris itself—but this man seems nice, so he decides to trust him. "Are you—are you Hughes? Or Armstrong?"

The man laughs, and the kindness in his green eyes reminds Ed suddenly of his mother. "I'm Hughes. Armstrong is the big blond guy behind me."

Ed lets his gaze travel upward, wondering how he could have missed the huge man standing by the door. He's bigger than Uncle Rockbell, bigger than even Dad...and, to Ed's alarm, he is crying.

"Uh...Mister Armstrong...are you okay?" Al asks, his eyebrows scrunched in worry. "Why are you crying?"

A few of the men on the side laugh, but Armstrong only sniffles once before declaring—"It's nothing, dear Alphonse Elric. It is just...to see you in this way..."

"Thank you, Major," the woman says abruptly, standing up and taking his arm, leading him out of the room in a matter of seconds.

Ed and Al both stare after them worriedly for a moment before Hughes catches their attention again. His eyes linger on Al for a moment as well before he sighs. "Yes, well, you've grown up quite a bit by the time you come here. The Major is pretty...sentimental, you might say."

Ed knows he's heard that word before—some joke Uncle Rockbell made when Granny started hanging up photos... He can't remember exactly what it means, but he supposes it doesn't really matter.

They can trust these people—that much he's decided. Roy is already heading toward a telephone on a nearby desk, promising to ask Winry to come as soon as possible, and everyone else is straightening up.

(The men to the side are staring at Al as if seeing him in a whole new light. Have they been doing that this entire time? Ed doesn't know, and it's freaking him out.)

"I can drive you to my house now, if you don't mind. My wife and daughter are there," Hughes is saying, standing up and offering Ed a hand. "Elysia's just a bit younger than you guys—you'll get along fine..."

He continues on as they leave the office about this Elysia girl and his wife, Gracia, but Ed is barely listening. Al is grasping his hand tightly as they walk through this enormous building...people stare, ask Hughes questions, but he always writes the two of them off as a couple of Elysia's playmates he had to pick up.

Why is he lying? Ed knows that lying is a bad thing to do... Was what they did also bad? Is that why Hughes has to lie about it? Will they get in trouble...? Maybe they'll never get to go home and never see Mom again and...

People are staring at him while the three of them finally break free of the building...they're taking in his eyes and hair and everything about him. Some have a spark of recognition in their gazes; others only look confused; but every one of them makes Ed like this place less and less.

The whispers follow him all the way to Hughes' home.

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(Mom... He already misses her so much.)