Edward looked around him curiously, taking in the personal and mellow landscape with mild scrutiny. It was, to an extent, very homey, and Ed found herself relaxing slowly as the warm atmosphere began to interfere with her rational thinking. It was hard to think there could be any danger in a place full of benevolence. The thing that stumped Edward was the fact that it was the Flame Alchemist house; the one who's smirked made her blood boil and her heart race all in one.
The living room was nice. It was a soft tan color, and on the walls hung several art pieces, arranged tactfully, popping from the wall with subtle grace. There was a large black couch positioned in front of a huge flat screen TV, and a beautiful glass table sat before the leather couch, within easy reach. There was a tall window on the other side of the room, and resting on the sill was a humble plant. Its leaves were a mint color, and fuzzy white hairs adorned its form. There were pinkish honey suckle looking flowers sprouting amidst' its wiry body, much too feminine for Mustangs taste, making Ed wonder if a lover, who probably knew nothing of Roy's fancies, would have thought to buy him such a plant instead of the gaudy expensive jewelry that most of his lovers lavished him with.
Edward sat on Mustangs leather couch and grabbed the remote before Roy, swinging in on crutches, snatched it from his hands, dripping water onto Edward's clean clothes. Ed looked up inquisitively raising one golden eyebrow in question.
"Since you're in my house, why don't you make yourself useful and make us all breakfast, since I am so handy-capped, that I can't even handle a spatula." Roy demanded, placing the remote back onto the glass coffee table with a musical clank. Edward snickered in pleasure as the sopping wet Mustang turned away, fists clenched on the handles of his crutches. He turned a corner to the stairs, most likely to get out of his soaked clothing and to dry himself off.
Edward huffed defiantly and pushed herself from the couch with her flesh arm, wincing as her Automail ached with heat. When she was in the hospital she had been forced to wear a sling, seeing that the skin around her prosthetic limb was sprained, extremely tender, and the skin ripped apart by far too much weight, Roy Mustang, but ever since she got out she had been forcing herself to endear the pain. Ed entered the kitchen reluctantly, and started. Al was already frying some bacon strips in a skillet, flipping them around with a patience Edward just didn't seem to have.
"I thought I would make Mustang some breakfast, considering I ruined it." Alphonse said without looking at her.
Edward snorted, leaning against the counter and grimacing as her chest throbbed.
"You didn't do anything; if he hadn't of left it sitting there on the stove like an idiot then it probably wouldn't have happened."
Al laughed quietly and flipped the bacon onto a white plate, he put the spatula and pan in the clean sink and grabbed the plate, rummaging around in the drawer for a fork. He smiled at Ed and walked past her, calling out timidly for Mustang. A few minutes later he appeared in a pair of black pants and a white, button up shirt. He took the plate eagerly from Al, murmuring heartfelt thanks before shoveling down the food.
Edward rolled her eyes and let her eyes wander back over to the plant sitting on the windowsill. Her curiosity stoked once again, she walked over to it and blinked as the smell of 7up hit him like a smack in the face.
"Weird isn't it?" Mustang asked once he returned from the kitchen. He was wiping his hands on a dish towel, no doubt from washing his plate. He threw the wash cloth onto the dining room table and smirked, ditching one of the crutches so he could limp over. "I'm not sure what it's called, but ever since it arrived on my door step I'd been all over it." he continued, taking one of its heart shaped leaves in his hand and running his thumb over it softly.
"Smells like 7up," Edward muttered leaning forward to sniff the scent which filled the air around the dainty and elegant plant. Roy chuckled and nodded.
"I don't know whether they were made naturally or if they were made from science, but they smell good, so I keep it there,"
Roy pulled back, stretching his body out in one fluid motion. His joints popped ominously, and he wincing as his knee twisted in the wrong way. Edward grimaced empathetically, and asked bluntly, "Did that happen at my party? Your knee?"
Mustang was already shaking his head. "I got tackled on my way home form the hospital." Edward felt her eyebrows rise in a silent question; Roy didn't seem too pleased to answer. "They were asking for you," Edward's mouth went slack, and she stumbled over her words as she replied with a dangerous ferocity, "Why the hell didn't he just come after me?"
Roy shrugged, showing that he was just as confused as Edward was. "Don't know, but they're getting desperate enough to attack in only one day, do you have any idea what they're after?" he questioned looking at Edward out of the corner of his eye.
Edward gulped, and tried to hold the Flame Alchemist piercing gaze, only to break away recklessly in an attempt to keep his soul hidden from such keen experienced eyes. Edward forced a smirk to slither onto her lips, cringing on the inside at the false, slimy feel of it.
"Who wouldn't want all of this?" The words fell from her mouth greasily, and she raised her eyebrow to top it off, hoping he wouldn't see past the unbreakable mask. Mustang frowned softly, a disconcerting glint sharpening in his eyes. But he turned away with a gentle sigh, limping back into the kitchen without a second glance. Edward closed her eyes and swallowed her hammering heart down her throat in pain.
It had been going on for sometime, the masked fiends jumping from the shadows with vigorous speed, always crouched in an animalistic way, malicious venom shining in their eyes. It sickened Ed to watch as they lost one battle after another, amateurs, cocky with their power. Slowly each kidnapper began getting less arrogant and more cautious, slinking through the gloom even the light couldn't touch. They became predatory, a sick perverse intelligence taking form. Their emotions, even pleasure at Edward's pain, were left to sob behind them, and they came at him with a rapacious grace.
Edward could guess what they were after, easily. The masked enemies would clutch at his collar and pull him close, spitting blood onto his face as they whispered with their last breaths 'We want your memories, and we will get them. He will find you, and you will suffer for them'.
It had started with Al's return.
She had gotten Alphonse body back with little trouble, only one, sickly sweet vow from the Gate Keeper.
'Memories can haunt you more than you think, young alchemist. That is a promise'
The figure's voice had been wickedly calm, making Edward's skin raise in disgust, and her eye's narrow with defiance and suspicion. But Truth had simply vanished, and she had woken up by a twig body, frail and beautiful beside her. Al's warmth seeped through her clothing, and she had thrown her arms around him, sobbing out her fears until she felt alive again. They traveled to Risembool, arm in arm, and gave Winry a welcomed startle, together.
Edward had expected to sleep well that night, free from her lingering guilts for just that one sunset. But how wrong she had been. The night wrapped her into its embrace with a sleepy seduction, burying its teeth into her mind and body. She was under its influence within the minute, sensing the heat of success, slip from her palm like a worm. Slowly, she lost herself to a dream, or, rather, a memory that wasn't hers.
She was in the middle of a room on her stomach. The woven fabric of a carpet pressed against her cheek made creases in her skin. It worn and frayed, a dirty white color, splattered with a dark red color. Her right leg throbbed aggressively, blooming with pain, and her left eye was swollen shut. She felt small and weak.
Suddenly, she pushed herself up, and limbed over to a body length mirror on the side of the room. It felt as if she were watching from the inside of her own body, unable to do anything as her body went against her will, yet she still felt the pain blossom as she tested her weight on her right leg. It buckled from under her and she went crashing to the ground in a heap. A weak moan carried from her mouth. Her body pushed itself up, and she glanced up at the mirror fearfully.
She looked just barely ten, with golden brown hair, the moons light reflecting off of it. Her left eye was enlarged, swollen shut. It was a grotesque blue and black, greening around the edges. She reached up and pocked it, flinching as the pain doubled, tears welling in her eyes. She was wearing a light blue tank top, smeared with blood, and a pair of tan shorts around her hips. She pulled her right leg in front of the reflecting surface and let out a horrified shriek as she took in the sight of her mangled leg.
It was swelling, bruised from the ankle to her knee, throbbing in the grim lighting. Then a perverse voice flew to her, racking her body with shivers and sobs.
"Mary-Anne, where are you? I've missed you, my dear."
A shadow fell upon her, and she looked into the mirror as a hand came out from the gloom, covering her mouth just as a terrified screech built up in her throat.
She had woken, covered in sweat, looking into the eyes of her childhood friend Winry, who was shaking her in concern. There were tears in her eyes, and she wiped them away in embarrassment, murmuring a thanks. Winry had shaken her some more and questioned frankly, "What's going on with you, Edward Elric?" Ed had simply shrugged, probing her eye with care, and letting a breath of relief escape her when no pain came. It was only a dream. Dreams didn't always make sense, so why did this one have to? Why did it seem so real? Winry sighed and walked from the room, calling out quietly that she would be there if Edward were ever to need her.
Back then, they only happened every other night or so, but now, they were continuous. They made her shake with fear that wasn't her own, smile through happy tears, and they made her painfully aroused, pushed through intimate scenes, memories of someone other than herself. She was fairly use to them, and dealt with them the only way she knew how.
Bottling them up.
That didn't help, it just made her yearn for things she couldn't have, it made her weep on the inside, and it made her want to cut herself out from this world from the exhaustion it left her. So she started writing them down. It was in a pocket size brown leather journal, with a sturdy golden lock embellishing its buckle. It had a matching key which hung from a silver chain at her neck, resting on the hollow of her throat. Winry had given it to her on her official, sixteenth birthday, and ever since the following morning, had been writing down all of her troubles.
Unfortunately, they took a great deal of strength and resolve from her. She would wake from her memory, of a lover, a murderer, a rapist, in the barest tints of night, maybe one or two, and she wouldn't have the luxury of falling back asleep. Alphonse had caught on quickly, noticing her insomniac ways, distressed by the purple bruises beneath her eyes. And when he began questioning her, she panicked, throwing forward some excuse to rid herself of the invasive doubts. Edward loved her brother very much, had risked her life for him and beyond, would spill the beans to him about everything, but this felt personal, something she had to do on her own.
With each night it became less bearable, every time she would wake, drenched in her horror, left to pick up the pieces of a very broken, Edward Elric. And each time the pieces would get smaller, and harder to scavenge. She still didn't sleep, not without helping it. And now, now she was stuck in the Flame Alchemist home, and by the looks of the storm threatening just outside of the window, and the icy pelts of rain hitting Roy's window, they were probably going to have to stay there for the night. Winry, who had left when Edward had woken up to hunt for new Automail tools, was probably at Alphonse cozy apartment building, pacing nervously as she smacked her wrench against the palm of her hand immorally.
Edward jumped as someone touched her lightly on her shoulder, and looked up into the trusting eyes of her brother.
"I'm going to call Winry and tell her we can't make it to dinner, let alone the apartment." He informed Ed, fidgeting apprehensively. Edward nodded, and looked back out the glass. The gray clouds rumbled their complains to him, making Edward cringe. Bad things always came with the rain.
"Sister?" Alphonse began, wincing as Edward glared at him meaningfully. He was not to call Edward his sister unless they were sure not to be overheard.
"Do you- are you still having problems sleeping?"
Edward sighed, knowing that she had it coming for her. It was hard to be secretive in front of her brother, when every twitch in her brow, and the slump of her shoulders told him everything that he needed to know.
"No of course not," She lied skillfully, smiling arrogantly at the younger man, "Why do you ask?"
Edward twisted the key around her neck slowly, between her pointer and thumb, glaring daggers at the trimming of the window. "Because you're slumping, there's a tick in your left eye, and you're fiddling with your key, it only makes sense that those are sighs of exhaustion, you're trying to keep yourself awake." He retorted. His voice was a mixture of desperation and despair. Edward bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. Why did he have to know her so well?
"Please, Brother, I just want to know what's wrong! I know you've never really slept right, but ever sense I've gotten back you just can't seem to close your eyes!"
Edward choked back her fear, keeping her eyes fixated on the plants, small peach flowers, scowling at her own stupidity. She always made people worry.
"I'm fine." She whispered the lie slowly, letting the words flow from her lips listlessly. She was too far gone to start telling the truth, now all she could do, was hope that someone had the courage to drag her from the hole she dug for herself, and pry her fingers from her own coffin. Soon those memories would become her reality, and she would force herself from this world, into the waiting hands of Truth. That was probably its motive. She had saved herself from it, and now when it came to it, she was going to go there willingly.
Alphonse mouth twisted into a snarl. "You are not fine!" He whispered furiously, "What are you so afraid of, Sister? What is it that keeps you from your dreams?" Edward wanted to scream at her brother, to turn to him and point her finger in his face and say, 'I'm afraid of the things that come from the night, I'm afraid of loosing you, I am afraid of fear itself! '
"What am I afraid of?" she murmured helplessly, but continued to plunge on, "I'm afraid that one day the Gate will take you back, demanding more." She laughed mirthlessly, looking darkly at the polished floorboards. "And I've never dreamed, not since Mom died, unless you call nightmares dreams."
Al slumped against the wall in defeat, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I just want to help you," He said, before picking himself from the wall to go call Winry. Edward stifled a sob as things began to haunt her yet again, if only Al hadn't of brought it up. A little girl pushed off a bridge, a boy raped and left to die, and an adult; lover murdered. You can't look at something that isn't yours through a new perspective. You don't know the whole story, and so that renders you the ability to think rationally, instead, there is only the purest and sickest form of horror and terror. To relive memories those aren't yours.
Edward Elric didn't dream. Only the innocent have dreams.
XXXXXXXXXX
Alphonse struggled to hold back his furious sister, pulling on her arm weakly.
"Come on Al! We are out of here!" Edward screamed throwing her full force towards the door, Roy's amused snickers driving her on.
"But, Brother!"
"No one calls me short and gets away with it!" She screamed back at him, reaching out her Automail arm despite the pain it caused her. Three hours had passed since her pondering at the window, and yet, only in three hours did Roy manage to spark her anger and fury. It was infuriating, having grown more than Roy had in the past seven years, and yet he still labeled Edward as short.
"Brother! There was a hurricane warning on the news! It said to stay indoors!" Alphonse retorted, grinding his feet into the carpet. "Are you really that stupid?"
"If it means I can get away from that god damn Bastard, then yes, count me as stupid!"
"All he said was that you could take the twin bed!"
Edward rolled her eyes.
"He was implying that I was short!"
"Brother!" Alphonse whined plunking down onto the floor and letting go of Ed's wrist. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, looking up stubbornly at his older sister who mirrored his movements. They locked eyes, engaged in a silent, deadly battle that would have left Roy's house in pieces had it been physical. Then, Edward cracked, and she sighed, rolling her eyes again as she helped Alphonse off of the floor.
"Fine." She muttered angrily to Mustang, trying to keep her anger within range. She grabbed the pillow and blankets from Roy's hands and charged up the stair, taking two at a time. There were four doors, two on each side. She gently eased the first one open, cursing her pride for not being able to ask which room she was to sleep in. The first room was Roy's. It was a deep blue color, with a silver trimming around the window. There was a mahogany dresser on one side and a mirror following. On the dresser was a vase full of dried flowers, and a comb, but nothing else. There was a closet to one side, and the bed was king sized, lavished with one big, fluffy red blanket and two monstrous pillows that Edward was certain you could suffocate in.
Edward winced as the door clicked shut behind her and she fumbled backwards, quietly running into something hard. She turned around, growling under her breath, only to blush furiously at the figure behind her. Roy. She narrowed her eyes and muttered, "Got lost," And turned to move down the hall. He leaned in close, eyes narrowed seductively making Edward's heart pound unevenly in her ears, her blush a deeper more sensual shade of red. "Second door to the left." He murmured in her ear. His breath moved her golden hair from its place, and he smirked as he pulled back, chuckling as he sauntered away. The effect was ruined by his limp and the crutch under his arm.
Edward cursed under her breath and pushed her bangs out of her golden eyes, burning with pleasure and fury. Her attraction for her superior had taken form when she turned fourteen. It had always been there, dormant and patient, waiting for the right moment to strike. Soon, her body was aching with want and lust, and her heart pulsed with the attention he awarded her. It wasn't logical, she reasoned, to have a relationship with your superior officer, let alone with someone nearly fourteen years your senior. Besides, he didn't feel the same way, Roy didn't know she was female, and he wouldn't commit to a man unless it was for sex. Or would he? That little gesture he preformed was just to infuriate her; otherwise, he wouldn't have smirked at the blush so blatantly flaunted. Or did he have some idea of her secret sex?
Every time she thought of this her body would shiver with the need to answer the questions she, herself asked. She would fantasize about running her hands through his licorice black hair, and standing on her tip toes to trace her lips around his. Of course, she wouldn't be caught dead thinking that. It was an unvarnished crush, driven on and exaggerated by the hormones she was rewarded with. Soon, she hoped, soon it would be gone, blown away by the endless taunts he lavished her with.
Edward didn't like to elucidate her personal issues, let alone who she was lusting after. Not even Alphonse knew; no one did. Maybe they had some ideas, noticing the continuous blushes and glances that were all on account of Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, and a horrible seducer who could reel you in with a deep hot look. She would hide them beneath hisses and snarls, when all she wanted to do was stalk up to him and run her hands over his body and become his equal. She should have felted disgust for herself, letting her desires take control of her sanity, but the insatiable libido drove it down to her feet into unwilling submission.
Its not as if she could help it, push it aside and bicker with him like she could when she was still thirteen, but no matter how much she itched for it, it was always three steps ahead of her. It only made it worst that she had to be attracted to Mustang, a horrible wolf yearning for something he could get his fangs into, all he would do was turn her inside out for him and then leave her, broken and alone. It hurt. It probably hurt his lovers much worst, but still, they kept coming, an endless supply of hormone driven people, willing to loose something that they would never get back.
She'd been hurt before, plenty of times. Betrayal was something common in the military and unfortunately, she lived within it, trapped in the twisting manipulative web they spun just for you.
Edward growled and pushed open the door, letting it hit the wall with a crash. The room was plain, with a small, twin bed in the center and an oak desk on the other side. There was a wide window in front of her, giving her a great view of a park just over the horizon. There was a plump chair positioned next to it, and Edward walked to it steadily, plopping down with a tired sigh. The room was gold with red around the window trimming, and Edward had a fleeting feeling that this room was just for her.
Pale gloomy light filtered in through the window, and she hissed as the wind pulled metal claws against the window unsympathetically. She felt a headache coming on, and she rubbed her forehead with the heel of the hand. She could always just ask the General if he was gay, or if he felt attracted to him and not her. Edward growled. She was just digging herself a deeper hole with each thought. She wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, but maybe that was a good thing.
Sighing, she reached into her gray jacket to a little secret pocket and pulled out her journal, the one that was tainted with the memories she bore every night and beyond. Sighing, she pulled the key out from under her shirt and pushed it into the lock twisting it until she heard a subtle click. She pulled the key out and hide it under the neck of her shirt, making sure that the door was closed before she opened it up with a deep breath.
It was hard to look through something you had to stomach each night, it was hard enough without the journal, but writing in it relieved her of the need to prat out her emotions to any poor soul who happened to be walking by her. Ed snickered softly as a memory flitted to her.
She was in the middle of the park, red coat pulled skintight against the harsh wind that made her burrow in her thin clothing. She had her head in her hands, and it was sprinkling softly, making her hair damp and itchy. No one was in the public garden that day, for the obvious, and so Edward let the tears flow down her cheeks silently, resigning to her sorrow, allowing herself to indulge in her pain and suffering for just the one day.
The day she lost everything.
No matter how much Al pleated she just wouldn't let herself feel relief. Not after she had lost so much to the gate, not after she was penalized. And so each day of that year, she mourned for the loss of her innocence and childhood.
It was the soft footsteps splashing melodiously in the thin puddles that made her jerk her head up in surprise. In front of her was a woman with soft copper hair, unruly in the humid weather. It fizzed stubbornly around her crown, and perched on her nose was a pair of large green rimmed glasses, fogged up from her warm breath. She was wearing a pair of jeans, something most women were too shy to wear, and a purple jacket, hood hanging limp down her back.
Edward narrowed her eyes unintentionally and glared at the girl, trying to ward her off with the anger and sorrow in her eyes. Instead, her eyes, widened in surprise, softened and she trudged towards her, and plopped down next to her, pulling out a tan bag she hadn't noticed before onto her lap. She unbuttoned it slowly and brought out a small paper bag, pulling out a sandwich wrapped in plastic. She handed it to Ed without warning, taking out another sandwich as if she were expecting company.
"You seem lonely, I thought you might want some company," She said in a soft, hoarse voice. Edward blinked at her, startled. She laughed quietly, that sounded like dry skin rubbing over paper.
"When I was a child, about your age, seventeen, eighteen," Ed smiled, realizing that it was the first time anyone had ever guessed her age right, "I was kidnapped." Edward frowned, sadly knowing how she felt.
"My throat was slit and I was used in an alchemy experiment, I'm not sure what," Edward's eyes widened in disbelief, and she felt a lump in her windpipe, and she swallowed it back down difficultly. "Sadly, my vocal cords never quiet healed, and so now I am stuck with a voice that is like sand."
Ed didn't know what to say, this stranger had walked up to her and probably told something so terrifying that Edward would have locked up inside her, and without even thinking, she blurt out, "I'm Edward Elric!"
She smiled and said, "I know,"
Ed bit nervously on her lip and said quietly, "I'm sixteen and I am in the military. They think I'm male but I'm actually female." She rambled, setting the sandwich on her lap and wringing her hands apprehensively. She looked at the women out of the corner of her eyes and found her smiling, motioning Edward on.
"I wasn't born female, when I was about eleven my brother and I tried to transmute our mother back to life, but instead I lost my leg and brother. I bonded his soul to a suit of armor and lost my arm in the process, then, not that long ago I got him back at a huge price," She needed to stop, or she would never block out the words. Stop! She thought, stop! "Now every night when I go to sleep I see things that aren't mine, and they scare me!" Edward! No! Don't! "I'm afraid they will become my reality!" She yelled jumping up and sending the sandwich to the wet ground. She wiped the salty tears away hurriedly, and bent forward to pick it back up. Her knees scrapped the ground and the water soaked through the legs of her leather pants.
"I'm sorry, that was terribly rude of me. I probably ruined the sandwich, god damn it! Sorry! Edward, stupid, stupid, didn't even think before you jumped up and knocked that perfectly good sandwich on the ground! She probably took a long time preparing it!" She muttered, more to herself than to the stranger beside her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she picked up the food, thanking the plastic wrapping for keeping it nice and dry, letting droplets of tears plop onto her wet gloves, hoping the rain would hide her tears.
A hand was laid on her back and she jumped, looking up into a pair of deep, trusting blue eyes.
"Use your voice, sing." She said in a smooth and soft voice. She pushed the sandwich towards her mouth and finished, "Eat."
Edward blinked in amazement and felt her mouth tug upwards. And then she hugged the women and said in a timbre just as soft and sweet.
"Thank you."
Afterward when the women had left, she went home and ate the sandwich, which was turkey. Apparently, she had looked like she was in heaven, and so Al had commented with a laugh," The best sandwich you ever had?"
Edward had smiled sadly and replied, "Hell, yes!" Around a mouthful of lettuce, turkey, cheese and bread.
Edward smiled at the storm blowing out side the window, and locked her little pocket book back up, placing it back into its pouch within her coat.
With memories like this, sometimes the nights didn't seem so harsh.
I hope you liked it! I worked really hard on this one! Please review, they always make me more motivated (If I don't get any reviews it just feels like nobody likes it!)