A.N. *is shot* You guys have every right to kill me. I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON! But I'm not going to give excuses and piss you guys off.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Ed's mouth, may very much confuse you (but you guys are smart so I'm not worried), and if you hate OCs, DON'T WORRY! These other characters are just to make the story flow better, but I can't call them OCs because they are actually from an unrelated series. If you can tell me where they are from, um, well, I'll figure out a prize (because digital cookies are digital :( . And there is one other reference here (that I'm aware of). And possible mechanical errors /shot.

Well, ENJOY! (and review (or flame, because I bet they are funny to read), but thats kinda a given ;)

It Begins

Ed's head thumped as he blearily opened his eyes. He quickly shot up into a sitting position as he remembered the previous events. He quickly took note of his surroundings: he was in what looked like forest, paths weaving in and out of the widely spaced trees and bushes. He took a deep breath. The air tastes weird.

He then took note of his current appearance. Ed's black leather jacket was no where to be seen, leaving him with his traditional black tank top, exposing his damaged yet working automail arm to the world. Winry won't like it, but I guess I can transmute the metal plates back on. At least it's still working. A relieved sigh escaped his lips when he found his red coat, which he was partially laying on. He quickly slipped it on.

Ed stood up, only to fall down immediately. He started rolling up his pants leg Great, now there's something wrong with my auto- His eyes widened and tears prickled at the edge his eyes.

There was his leg, flesh and blood. He touched it, expecting to feel cool, hard metal, when instead he felt warm flesh. A rare genuine appeared on his face as he stared at his newly obtained appendage. How come I have my leg now, though? Not that I'm complaining… Which brought Ed to another question: why only his leg? How come not his arm too? Or even, why his leg? Having his arm made a lot more sense. Although having a leg was much more convenient. All these questions made his head thump even harder than before.

Crap. Ed checked himself. He had a large wound on his side, long stopped bleeding, and numerous other medium and small cuts all over himself, aside from his leg. The blonde winced as he felt his left arm; perhaps he had a small fracture, not large enough to hinder him (although for most people it would). Other than the pain from his wounds, he had an enormous headache, and the world seemed to be whirling around him, making it difficult to think. A wave of nausea hit him. Shit. I probably have a concussion. It doesn't seem too bad though. But the Gate seems to have taken away all of the most fatal injuries. Che, maybe I'll get him a card.

Blackness ebbed at his vision as the young alchemist tried once again to stand, a result of blood loss and his recently realized concussion. Ed leaned heavily against the trunk of the tree he was near. He sucked in his stomach, trying to rid himself of the head rush he was getting from standing up a little to fast.

All of the sudden, he heard an aged man's voice yelling at him from a distance. Ed turned his head, unable to understand what the man was saying. It was at that moment the exhaustion and blood loss caught up to him. His foot slipped and his head hit the tree as his world turned black.

Our favorite diminutive alchemist awoke to something cool pressing against his forehead. He forcefully pushed open his lead-heavy eyelids to find and elderly lady placing a cool, wet washcloth against his forehead.

As soon as the woman noticed his open eyes, she smiled brightly and said something he couldn't understand. Ed blinked.

"I'm sorry could you repeat that?" his strained voice asked. This time the woman blinked.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize you were German, although you have a rather odd accent. I asked how you were feeling." Her voice was soft and kind, although slightly raspy due to her age. He guessed she was in her seventies.

Putting away the "German" question for now, he answered, "Much better, thank you. My name is Edward," he paused for a second, realizing that giving his name might not be the best thing at the moment, with him being a wanted criminal and a secret evil organization after him; if he wasn't on the other side of the gate like he suspected. "Heiderich." Really Ed? Is that all you could come up with?

The woman simply smiled. "My name is Valerie Scholtz. I'm from Germany, too. My husband, Max, found you in the forest by the park." She frowned. "Now what did a handsome boy like yourself do to get roughed up like that?"

Ed flushed a little at the handsome comment, and was grateful that she didn't mention his height. He hesitated, trying to think of an explanation for his injuries; he couldn't exactly say that he was fighting to save the world from an immortal psychopath that was trying to become a god. Maybe he could feign memory loss? "I…I don't remember…" he said, using the perfect acting skills that he learnt being in the military.

Valerie's face scrunched up slightly in concern. "If you will excuse me, I will go get my husband, Max. He's a retired doctor." And she rushed out of the small room. Ed took this chance to look around the room. It was humble; the bed was in the corner, directly across from the door. A small lamp was on the nightstand next to the bed, and an old fashioned wardrobe (think Narnia) was at the foot of the bed. Across from the wardrobe was a small desk with a little desk light on it, with a larger lamp in the corner. And on the blank wall was a large window, giving a spectacular view of the forest.

Ed needed to think of a cover story. If he didn't, well, the author is kind enough to show you what would happen.

IF ED WERE STUPID(ER)

"So, how did you get so roughed up, Edward?" Max said, pulling out a clip board and reading glasses out of nowhere.

"Well," Ed began, leaning back into the recliner staring up at the ceiling. "I got attacked by a crazy psycho non-human dude trying to become god."

"I see, now why did this happen?" Max asked.

"Well, he wanted to use me as a sacrifice along with four other people to force "god" to enter his body, giving him unlimited power. I was there because my brother was a soul in a suit of armor, and I was trying to get his body back from the Gate. So I used alchemy and the Philosopher's stone to try to get his body back and I accidently got stuck on the other side of The Gate. Did I mention I have a metal arm?"

"So where are you from?" Max asked dubiously, scribbling furiously on the clipboard, causing smoke to rise from the pages due to the immense amount of friction.

"Pinky-swear you won't tell?" Ed asked with puppy dog eyes.

"Alright." Max said as they hooked fingers.

"Okay. I'm from an alternate universe."

"…"

"What?"

"I gotta make a quick phone call."

"Okay."

-Twenty minutes later-

"Crap, I should've known he was crossing his fingers." Ed said as he sat in an all white room where the men in the white had taken him.

"You too, huh?" Said a odd man in the corner with bowl cut, HUGE eyebrows, and wearing green spandex who was standing making the weirdest pose with sparkly teeth.

"Huh?"

END STUPID STORY

Yeah that is not happening. The door opened to reveal the elderly man he had heard earlier and Valerie.

"Hello Mr. Heiderich, I'm Max." The man, Max, said.

"Please call me Ed; I'm only Edward or Mr. Heiderich when I'm in trouble. Umm, how long was I out?"

Max frowned. "Surprisingly only a two days. Which is odd considering your condition…" he trailed off. Then Max chuckled. "I'm sure Valerie told you I was a doctor. I gave you basic care, but since you were blacked out I'm gonna need you to wash all the blood off yourself. Since your condition isn't critical, I thought you would prefer privacy.

Grateful did not due justice to Ed's feelings toward Max. Ed let out a huge smile.

"Thanks." He said. "Err, where can I take a shower?"

Max led Ed to the shower, where Ed began to rub the blood off of himself as he collected his thoughts.

ED'S THOUGHTS

Alright… So first of all, where am I? Ed thought back to the scene with the gate. Well, judging by that, I'm on the other side of the Gate. Shit. But there are eight other people from Amestris. The other four "sacrifices" (Ed did air quotes in his head) are most likely here. DamndamndamnDAMN! Izumi, Mustang, and Hohenheim! I don't know how to deal with something like this!* Wait. Al. That means he's here. Alright. I'll find him first. Then I'll find the other seven. There's a problem. If the five of us are the "sacrifices" (again with the air quotes) then there are four others I can't even guess at! ShitshitshitSHIT! I don't know this world/alternate universe, AND THEY COULD BE ANYWHERE! It's not like I can just leave them here. I also need to learn the native language. Apparently I speak "Jer-man" (more mental air quotes) and that is unusual here apparently...

Next. I'll need to get a job here. So I can pay these people back and gain some information about this world. I'll need it since there's a possibility that I might need to travel. I also can't keep mooching off of these people. I can tell they're having trouble financially.

I need a back story. I can fake amnesia for a certain amount. I can possibly play the exchange student story that accidently messed with the wrong people and got beat up. That'll work.

END ED'S THOUGHTS

The alchemist stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He pulled on the clothes, albeit the t-shirt, that Valerie and Max had lent to him while his clothes were in the washer. So this side of the Gate has advanced technology. Interesting.

Ed had come to the conclusion he was on the other side of the gate. It was the only logical explanation. Now he had to decide the plan of action. Well first I have to find a way keep my automail hidden. It would be too complicated to explain.

That's when Ed found his salvation: a pair of pink, rubber gloves that could be used to wash dishes. Perfect. I'll find away to pay them back before I go back home. First things first; see if I can still use alchemy.

He clapped his hands together, formulas and circles running through his head, and placed them on the gloves. He breathed out a sigh of relief at familiar blue light.

Where there was once a pair of pink dishwashing gloves, there was now a single arm length, skin colored glove. He pulled it over his automail arm. I'll fix the plates later. Ed adjusted the small flap where the metal met the flesh, making it almost seamless. It'll be okay as long as no one looks too closely.

Ed pulled the t-shirt over his head and opened the door to heart the couple talking quickly in German.

"We can't keep him here; we don't have enough money to do that, ever since you were fired." It was Valerie.

"Oh, what. Now it's MY fault I'm fired? It's that damn Humperdink kid…" Now it was Max speaking.

"Forget it. Besides, this boy needs to learn English if he's going to stay here in America, although after this he might want to go home-"

"Then let's send him home-"

"Don't interrupt me. He might want to go home but he might get into trouble again, and I won't have that on my conscience."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"First: we teach him English; he must know a little to be able to transfer here from Germany. And that means he's most likely very smart too. Second: We send him to Henry's. He owes you some favors, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does. Fine. We keep the boy here till he learns English. Then we drop the kid on Henry. He had a son, right? He'll know how to take care of him."

"Alright then."

Ed paused a second to make sure the conversation was over, and then quickly slipped back into the guestroom. He slid into the bed moments before Max came in.

Max spoke first. "Well, Ed. Let's get a look at those injuries."

Ed pulled off his shirt, revealing his already healing wounds. Max was perplexed.

"They look so much better than when I first saw them. Must have been the shower…" The old man mumbled to himself. He proceeded to bandage the wounds on his torso and right leg and make a splint for Ed's left arm. When the treatment was finished, they both sat down on the bed.

"Ed," Max said. "How did you get so badly hurt?"

Ed recited his "back-story". "I'm an exchange student from Germany, and I supposed I accidently offended the wrong people." His mouth twitched upwards in spite of himself. "I don't remember much though."

"Must be amnesia from the concussion…" Max mumbled. He then asked the dreaded question: "How much English do you know"

Ed froze for a split second, but Max didn't catch it. "I can't remember any at the moment, but if I saw a book…" Max smiled.

"Give me a moment." He said, and left the room only to return quickly with three books: an German to English dictionary (common words edition), a How to Learn English book written in German, and an English grammar book.

"I suggest you read the How to Learn English book first, and then look at the dictionary, and finally the Grammar book." Max was surprised with a blinding smile from Ed that could make a teenage female faint on the spot. The old man could see the gratefulness in Ed's eyes, so much stronger than words.

Max coughed. "Well, I'll let you sleep, or study, or whatever…" and with that he left.

Ed smiled an utterly sinister smiled as he looked at the books. Alphonse used to say that Ed had made an on looking baby cry with the predatory looks he gave books when he was in his "reading trance". Ed always thought that Al was joking. He wasn't.

Our hero opened the first book, and read.

The next morning, Ed was still reading; but he much farther through than he had been last night. He was reading the dictionary, for the second time. In nine hours he had read the How to Learn English, the dictionary, the grammar book, and rereading the dictionary. Ed smiled; he wasn't called a genius for nothing.

Ed sleepily entered the kitchen around 7:30, pleasantly surprised to see Mrs. Scholtz cooking a simple breakfast of toast, bacon, and eggs. Max was sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. Ed sat down at the seat across from him at the round table.

"Good morning, Ed," Valerie greeted in German. "Would you like orange juice, milk, or coffee?"

"I will have coffee, please." The blonde replied in almost fluent English, with a bit of an accent. Valerie's eyes widened as she almost dropped the glass cup and Max choked on his coffee while he abandoned the newspaper. Ed merely held back a triumphant smirk.

"Did you stay up all night?" Max asked, still coughing in amazement.

"Ja. But I'm afraid I'm still not fluent. Of course I had learned most of it before I came. It vas merely review." This time the older Elric couldn't hold back a smile. Review my ass. English is a freaking annoying language. But it would have been better if I had pretended to learn slower, but I don't have time for that.

"Well, Ed, I can safely say that neither of us expected you to remember the language so quickly," Max said, this time in English. "I'm going to visit an old friend, because the truth is that I don't have a job, and I can't support two other people on my pension. So I'm calling in a favor and going to see if a dear friend can take you in. Come with me to meet him."

"Nein, I could not possibly intrude. I vill get a job und an apartment. It vill be-"

"I insist. Plus watching a kid will be good for the old man. The man needs something to do besides working in his yard and fishing all day. Although I heard he had come out of retirement…"

"Vell, I guess I vill meet 'im-"

"Great!" Max smiled. They finished their breakfast and Ed put on his clothes from yesterday (he had used alchemy to fix them, once "borrowing" a needle and some thread so it looked like he was sewing it). They were about to leave when something crossed Ed's mind.

"Can I see a vorld map?" Max furrowed his brow, but lead Ed over to his globe.

Oh shit.

Knock knock knock knock knock. Henry sat up and turned off the T.V. Only one person he knew knocked like that. "Max?" he asked, opening the door.

"Hey old man. How ya' doing?" Max implored, huge grin on his face.

"I'm doing fine, how 'bout you?" Henry inquired, giving his old friend a side hug.

"Fine, fine. But that's not the reason I'm here."

"Oh?" Henry's eyebrow raised, finally noticing the young man behind Max. He was one of the most interesting persons he's seen, and he has seen a hell of a lot of people. He was probably sixteen or seventeen, although short (the boy randomly twitched as he thought this) for his age. He wore a leather tank top with a leather jacket over it and a vibrant red traveling coat was hooked over the crook of his right elbow. The other arm was in a splint. White gloves adorned both hands. Instead of jeans and tennis shoes, the teen was wearing leather pants and a pair of combat boots. The look was completed with a chain that Henry guessed was a pocket watch. Golden hair was pulled back into a braid, although bangs on both sides of his head framed the slightly embarrassed, slightly scowling face. On any other person Henry would have thought he was some punk or rebel, but that seemed too simple to fit the strange boy. But what surprised Henry most was the molten gold eyes that seemed to pierce straight through your soul, and shined with his own light.

"This is Edward Heiderich," Max introduced. "May we come in?"

Henry led them to the living room, where he invited Edward to sit down, while Max pulled him into the kitchen to speak privately.

"Who is this kid?" Henry asked first.

"Edward Heiderich. He's a seventeen year old exchange student from Germany and he got mixed up in a bit of trouble apparently. I want to ask you to take care of him until he gets back on his feet."

"What kind of trouble?"

"He said that he 'must've offended the wrong people by accident'. He was beat up pretty badly when I found him passed out in the park. Broken left arm, large stab wound on his side, with various other wounds scattered over his body. Amnesia. I just know that Valerie will have my head if I don't make sure he makes it out of this alright. And I know the clothes are strange, but that's what I found him in. Sewed them up himself."

"How well does he speak English?"

"Fluently with an accent. It's funny because he didn't understand English in the slightest when I first found him, but after one night of studying, he's fluent. I think the kid's a genius. His accent is already slipping away."

"Alright. He can stay here as long as he understands I don't accept freeloaders."

"Naturally. Just let him heal first before making him work your yard." And with that, the interrogation was over.

Ed looked around the room as the two adults conversed secretly. He saw mounted fish, pictures of fish, fish figurines, fishing poles, and even books on fishing on the book shelves. The alchemist also noticed framed awards, showing that the man was a police officer. What confused him the most was the large black box in the room. What the hell is that?

His observations were cut short though as the men reentered the room. Max smiled. "I think it's time for some introductions then. Ed, this is Henry Spencer; Henry, this is Edward Heiderich."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Spencer," Ed greeted, holding out his left hand, causing Henry slight confusion.

"Same to you, Edward. You can just call me Henry." Henry replied shaking Ed's hand. He noticed that the exchange student had a rather firm grip.

"Alright, and please call me Ed." Blue eyes met gold, each gaze firm, trying to figure the other person out.

"Well," Max said, interrupting their stare-off. "I have to get going." He patted Ed on the shoulder. "Take care."

Ed half smiled. "You too. And danke."

Max left and Henry coughed awkwardly. "Well, I'll show you too your room. I also have some of my sons old clothes that might fit you." He added, noticing Ed didn't have a suitcase.

Ed nodded. "Thank you. And if you need any help vith anything, feel free to ask. I do not vant to be a freeloader."

Henry let out a genuine smile. "I think we will get along fine." Then he blinked. Had Ed's accent faded even more? Well, one thing was for sure: things are going to get even more interesting. But maybe that's an overstatement…

In retrospect, Henry would realize how much of an understatement that "overstatement" was.