/AN/ Just a short AN, firstly, thank you for all the wonderful feedback on that last chapter and sorry for not responding to any reviews. Normally I would but life has been a bit hectic and also I'm awkward. Also in regards to alchemy, in this chapter it may seem like I'm going back on what I said last chapter but I promise he does still have it, it just works a bit differently. Alsoo, if i got anything wrong in this chapter, do yell at me to fix it. I did a bit of research but it's hard to get things exactly right.
(I forgot the disclaimer last chapter so this is it for the entire fic) I don't own either Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter and all rights go to their creators/ whoever does own the rights.
As always- thanks for reading and reviews are always nice to wake up to ;)
The impact was brutal. The moment Ed's body hit the water, any breath he had been holding was pummelled out of him with the force of an Armstrong punch to the gut. Immediately he began to sink, despite his frenzied efforts to swim upwards Ed's body simply wasn't designed for water. To make matters worse, the freezing river was so clouded with grime and dirt that it was impossible to see anything around him other than a rapidly fading smudge of light to his left, no right, no, above. Ed had no idea how far or fast he was sinking. For the third time that day, he was stranded in darkness.
Attempting to swim proved futile. It only used up what little, precious oxygen Ed had left as his heavy clothes and even heavier metal limbs dragged him deeper under water. Small, shadowy shapes flitted and darted around him with the current. They kept their distance but seemed to be watching Ed's murky descent. Just meters below the surface of the water, already his lungs seemed to want to implode and Ed could feel himself becoming lightheaded after what felt like just a few seconds. Crushing pressure gripped his chest making his ears pop and buzz and twinges of pain flashed through his muscles as lactic acid began to build up. His heart beat was pounding in his ears, adrenaline from his plummet from the gate causing it to kick into overdrive. All too soon, darkness began to flicker behind his eyes but Ed knew he couldn't give in to the feeling of needing to just breathe. Not yet. Finally, his foot touched the river bed.
Hope surged through Ed's clouded mind. A few bubbles escaped from his mouth. Now he could just transmute a pillar to push himself out of the water! His newfound hope gave him strength and fuelled his efforts as he clapped his palms together and slapped them blindly against the shifting ground beneath him. Nothing.
Another trickle of precious air bubbles escaped upwards as Ed growled in frustration and panic. He tried again. Nothing. Again. He couldn't even feel the familiar alchemic energy buzzing within him when he clapped.
Despair rapidly smothered his elation and Ed began wildly pushing up off the rocks only to be dragged down again painfully slowly. Briefly, he considered ripping off his automail but he knew that it was too late for that now.
Is this really how I die? At the bottom of a stupid lake? I survived a freaking pole through the gut for this?
A different kind of chill gripped Ed as he suddenly remembered that he and Al were barely even close to recovering Al's body. And now he was going to be done in by a bit of water! Life really loved to throw Ed a curveball or two.
The pain in his chest suddenly became too much and although he slapped a hand over his mouth and nose, Ed couldn't stop the involuntary, sharp inhale that he knew would come eventually.
Once upon a time, Ed had been told that drowning was peaceful. Whoever had told him that obviously had never drowned before and Ed found himself clutching and clawing at his throat as white hot pain seared through his chest. Tiny bubbles of air trickled past his lips, taking with them his last dregs of life and strength. Slowly, the pain ebbed away and Ed was left in a state of numbness as darkness finally won the battle. Perhaps this was what they meant when they said drowning was peaceful…
London was quiet. Early evening had fallen and the majority of the commuters had already returned home in a hurry to leave yet another dreary Monday behind. A few tourists still remained, snapping dusky shots of the Thames as the bordering streetlamps blinked on one by one. A small fishing boat rumbled slowly past, leaving a trail of foam behind.
Overall it had been an uneventful and frankly, quite disappointing day. No major political news, no great London events. Even the sun, which was usually at its best and brightest at this time in summer couldn't be bothered to show its face, leaving London cold and overcast. It was a low blow for the people of Britain who saw enough drab weather the other eleven months of the year. At least it wasn't raining. Yet.
Aboard the small fishing boat, three figures slowly paced the deck. They were heading for a dock after an unsuccessful day of fishing further down the river. The boredom of the day was catching up on them and they only kept half an eye on the familiar surroundings that they passed each day. As their little boat trundled down the river, Ben yawned and leant against the railings. The creaky wooden floor was slick beneath his feet but the water was calm and he had no worries of falling into the Thames. Their boat, McBoatalot was just gliding past the Tower of London towards Tower Bridge and Ben leant forward to watch it go past, the flag fluttering in a breeze that went unfelt by him.
A sudden yell behind him jerked him out of his bored trance and he turned back to see something large and strikingly red crash into the river. The splash was so big that Ben felt a light spray on his hand and with a jolt he realised that it had been a person who had fallen.
Urgently he skidded over to Vanessa, his younger sister who was driving the boat and tapped on the glass window to get her attention.
"Hey, I think we've got a jumper out here! Stop the boat! "
He made his way back to the edge of the boat and was surprised to see that the figure hadn't resurfaced yet. There was no sign of them in the surrounding water either but there was no way that they had already swum to the shore. A few more seconds ticked past and Ben watched the water with growing anxiety. At the twenty second mark he realised that they weren't going to come up. Tower Bridge was just above them and it was entirely possible that this was a suicide jump. Whilst uncommon, they were not unheard of here. However, screams usually accompanied the jumper when the people on the bridge realised what they were doing but Ben couldn't make out anything other than the usual rumble of traffic coming from the popular tourist spot. His cousin Tony had just arrived beside him, phone in hand and frantically scanning the water next to Ben.
A cluster of bubbles broke the surface of the water and Ben suddenly came to a decision.
"I'm going in." he declared to Tony, who looked stricken.
Quickly, he yanked off his trainers and jacket then grabbed a length of rope they used for tethering. He wound it once around his torso, securing it with a hardy knot, then tossed the end to Tony. There was no time to call the police now, and every second lost was precious. The person had been under the water for at least a minute, if not more and they must have been attached to something heavy to prevent them from naturally floating to the surface. Thankfully, the weather was calm and the current was much slower than usual so with any luck, they wouldn't have drifted too far by now.
"If I'm not up in two minutes or I tug twice, pull me up, alright." He instructed Tony then without another thought, dived into the water. Cold and salt stung his eyes and it was nearly impossible to see anything through the dirt, but Ben forced himself to keep them open as he swum downwards, searching for the flash of red he had seen earlier.
A movement to his left caught his attention and he swum towards it frantically. He was pretty sure he had nearly reached the bottom of the deep river, which was a feat in itself and he hoped that he would find the person soon. If he had to come back down for a second search, he was certain that it would be too late. Blindly, he reached out into the water around him, searching until his hand struck something solid. He knew he was reaching his minute and a half mark now and could feel the painful strain on his lungs so he prayed that this was the person. There was no way for him to check in the dark water so instead he tightly gripped the object and tugged at the rope around his chest with his free hand.
Immediately the rope around him tightened and he began ascending quickly. The river wasn't too deep so he wasn't worried about getting the bends, however he noted that whatever he was holding was extremely heavy. It took both hands to stop him from losing his grip and he began to worry that he had picked up a scrap steel pole instead.
His worries quickly dissolved as he broke the surface and saw that he was holding what was obviously a forearm with a gloved hand attached. He felt Tony's hands drag him back onto the boat where he all but threw the body down next to him as he gulped for air. Garish red and gold attacked his eyes. If he hadn't already been gasping for breath, Ben would have gasped at the sight of the teenager beside him. Who wasn't breathing. Immediately he snapped back into action, thinking back to the compulsory CPR training he had received at school and beginning chest compressions on the boy. A number of tense minutes passed as Ben continuously went through the cycle of check for breathing, mouth to mouth, chest compressions, repeat. He could feel Tony hovering above him, ready with blankets and at some point Vanessa also emerged from the cabin to watch.
Over five minutes later Ben was about to give up when he saw the boy's eyes roll beneath his closed lids. A few seconds later he began gasping and coughing and water began to trickle out of his mouth. Ben gently rolled him onto his side and a gush of murky water spilled onto the deck of the boat. When eventually the boy's hacking subsided to a somewhat gentler chesty cough, he turned to face the man who had pulled him from the river. His lips moved slightly as he tried to say something but was interrupted by anther coughing fit.
Despite the fact that the boy still had a horrific cough, the crew of McBoatalot sighed in relief at the realisation that they now wouldn't have to face explaining a dead teenager on their boat to the police boat which was currently heading their way.
I need a cuppa was Tony's only thought as he collapsed in a small wooden chair next to the boy.
Air.
Ed felt gross as he roughly jerked awake. He was wet, tired and could literally smell himself but that didn't matter because he could breathe. Also he wasn't dead. How wonderfully unexpected.
His happiness was short lived once again when an uncomfortable feeling in his chest caused him to cough gently. That gentle cough soon morphed into hacking as water bubbled like acid up his throat and he felt like he was drowning again. A harsh tug on his shoulder pushed him onto his side and Ed felt the water finally leave his battered lungs and trickle out of his mouth. Great. Now he was puking. Add that to his list of reasons of why he felt gross.
Finally, the pain faded and Ed was able to get his breathing under control again. He cracked open his eyes, which he only realised now were tightly shut and looked round to see a man kneeling next to him. He looked to be about thirty and was sopping wet. Ah. He must have been the one who had pulled Ed out.
Without thinking, Ed tried to croak out a thank-you but once again his stomach lurched and throat tightened and Ed could only focus on trying to breathe again. The man seemed to get the message however and lightly patted his shoulder before standing up wearily and motioning to another man. A scratchy blanket found its way around Ed's shoulders and he was guided to lean against a crate in the middle of the boat. He chose to remain silent in case he irritated his lungs any further and caused another coughing fit so instead he just watched the people as they worked on their little boat. Every now and then they would cast a glance and a smile his way which Ed returned weakly. He tried to listen to what they were saying- they were obviously talking about him- but he quickly realised that they were using a different language. A few words stood out to him as names, but the rest held no meaning to him. This was definitely going to cause a problem.
A stuttering sigh escaped Ed's lips as he gently lent his head back against the crate and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. In spite of everything that had happened up till now, he felt peaceful and safe and since it seemed that he would be stuck on this boat for the foreseeable future, Ed took a moment to gauge his situation.
If it were up to Ed, he would already be off this boat and gone. In his mind he obviously needed to begin researching immediately if he had any hope of getting back home. Somehow, those alchemists had managed to send him through not just one Gate, but two and now he was stuck in an entirely new world. What kind of transmutation they had performed, Ed had no clue, but that was certainly the first thing he needed to figure out.
First task: get off this boat. Ed knew that there was a slim chance of that any time soon though; these people seemed like the nice kind of folk who would probably force him to get checked out by doctors after his close call in the river. They just gave off that kind of vibe. Also the girl with blue hair kept offering him a flask filled with tea.
A quiet rumble that was quickly growing louder grabbed Ed's attention and he looked up to see another boat speeding towards them. The woman with blue hair ran to the railings at the sound and waved to them. She shouted something above the roar of the engines as the boat pulled up alongside them and two people dressed in strange uniforms hopped over. One immediately began talking to the woman and the other came over to him and began speaking gentle gibberish. Ed must have looked confused because she visibly slowed down and elongated every syllable of gibberish she spoke. As if that would help. It might even have been funny if Ed hadn't suddenly felt extremely nauseous and dizzy. It was so suddenly intense that he couldn't help the soft groan as he lent forward slightly and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes in an attempt to offset the feeling.
Apparently this was not the right thing to do because the woman started yelling at her friend the moment he closed his eyes. Didn't she get the message that he just needed a moment? Irritated, he snapped his eyes back open and glared at the woman. By now his throat felt better so he dared speaking to show her that he couldn't speak her language. Of course this meant listing all of the cuss words he knew because, if she had no idea what he was saying there was no harm venting.
Finally, finally understanding, the woman fell silent with a slow nod and began pulling items out of her bag, showing them to Ed in silence. She explained what she was doing with gestures and demonstrations as she worked through what Ed assumed was the typical treatment for someone who had nearly drowned. Although a bit disgruntled, Ed decided not to refuse this medical treatment seeing as he had nowhere else to go and this woman seemed thoroughly determined to help him. That was until she began poking him and Ed made the snap decision that he didn't want these people to know about his automail. He wasn't self-conscious of it or anything like that, but he had no idea how these people would react to it. It would certainly raise some questions that he literally wouldn't be able to answer. Perhaps he was being paranoid but it didn't hurt to be cautious right?
By the time the boat bumped against a mooring post, the moon was up and the city had lit up with artificial light. Ed had no idea what time it was but it was late and he realised that he had nowhere to go. He didn't particularly mind; he and Al had often slept rough in unknown cities whilst travelling but in unknown worlds? Not so much.
The medical woman had left a while ago, seeming confident that he was more or less okay despite his near-death. He had shaken her hand and smiled when she was packing away her equipment, which she seemed to take as thanks, then she left with her colleague on their green and white boat. Ed was also about to make a sneaky departure when the man from before appeared from nowhere, tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned for him to follow. Ed noticed that the man's clothes were now dry which he envied slightly as he was lead into a small cabin space in the middle area of the boat. Inside, a small fold out bed with more scratchy blankets was set up and the man pointed to it sternly. He seemed to know that Ed would try to refuse, and refuse Ed did, vigorously shaking his head as politely as he could. He wasn't one to usually turn down a bit of help but he honestly felt that he had ruined these poor people's day enough by dropping in. A silent battle ensued between the two and if Ed hadn't been so exhausted he might have won, however he could feel his eyelids drooping as he stood there. The man could also see this and gently got Ed to sit down on the creaky mattress before he could continue with his stubborn antics. As soon as he sat down, Ed decided that it wasn't worth the effort to end up sleeping on a bench. He quietly thanked the man then lay down facing the wall. He heard the door creak shut and just before sleep worked its magic, wondered what Al was doing back home.