A/N: I'm so sorry it's been so long - I know apologies like this don't make you feel any less annoyed, but I really am very sorry - Elliot has been finished with this for a couple of weeks now. I just hadn't realized it was finished so I never beta'd it. If it helps any, there is another chapter already written, and its much longer, now it's just up to me to beta. Should be up by Sunday at the latest. Enjoy!

Blinding, roaring, searing, consuming his senses, blocking any rational thought. Ed just wanted it to all stop, no more light, no more pain, and most of all, no more noise. Seriously what the hell was that? Edward opened his eyes, and promptly shut them again. In a blinding, roaring, searing situation it's best to remember the blinding bit of the equation. The light pulsed eerily. Where was all this chaos coming from? He took a deep breath and analyzed his position.

He was sitting.

Well that was a start.

He tried to shift forward against the force keeping him there, pain lanced through his shoulder. The crack of a gunshot came back to him. Right, okay so far he had been shot and was now sitting in a rather cramped space, knees pressed against something hard. The roar, it sounded familiar. Engine. That was it. If he was sitting, being forced down by some force like a huge weight, and the noise he'd heard it before. The rocket. Yes, then he must be in the rocket. There, logic. Only question was, why the fuck was he on a rocket? A rocket that was going somewhere very, very fast.

He couldn't move his left arm; it was too painful to even twitch his fingers. Instead he brought up his right arm; the pressure plates weren't nearly as sensitive as good old automail but he could get general shapes from it. He ran the fingers across what ever was holding were him back besides sheer force of acceleration. Hands? Who?

"Edward?" The voice was barely heard over the roar of the rocket.

"Alfons, is that you?" He hadn't the strength to do more than croak, but the hands tightened in understanding.

The light was dimming, no longer pushing against his eyelids; trying to force it's way in. He squinted ready to snap them shut again if need be. It was still painfully bright but no longer burning.

And they weren't moving, or at least not at any speed that he could see. But that was impossible; they shouldn't feel the force of acceleration pushing them back. The light, so brightly colored it was almost white, was twisting in to patterns and meandering by. At the rate they felt they were going it should have been nothing but a blur. Instead the Rocket seemed to be going full speed down a kaleidoscope filled with molasses. No wind rushed through their hair only the slightest breath of air seemed to tickle their faces.

Then Edward saw it. As coldly terrifying as his encounters before, a pain struck him. The kind of pain that goes deeper than a simple cut should. The deadening of any semblance of the feeling of being healthy and unhurt. Fear griped him threatening to snap him in half and leave broken pieces behind. The gate loomed, sliding closer and closer as the rocket surged forward.

And then.

Then there were footsteps. Quite final, uneven. Walking besides the rocket, easily keeping pace and treading ether, came the ghostly figure of Truth. A smile split it's face it turned to look Ed. He felt Alfons shudder with a gasp of the fear he should have felt. He was shaking, it was too much, his mind felt brittle. But, if he was going to shatter like glass he might as well stab some one while he was at it. He raised a single shaking finger.

Fuck you, you son of a - you... child of a cosmic being... or ... whatever. I'm leaving. Ed couldn't get the words out but he made sure the Truth got the point from the body language. If it was possible the preternatural smile got even wider.

They were at the gate then, it was opening, blackness pouring, creeping out, inhuman hands, icy fingers, grabbing them, clawing them dragging them in. Wind hit them, from no earthly source, screaming around them and through them, stealing their breath, and behind them the light of the world dwindled as the gate slid shut, leaving them engulfed in shades of darkness.

Flashing images forcing their way into both of their heads. Impossibly. One after another, knowledge became too much for times dams. It broke down the barriers cramming its way in. Edward heard Alfons scream. Wrenching his way up from his seat, ignoring the pain that was burning a fire from within him, he turned to face Alfons, every movement an agonizing struggle against the wind and weight and darkness. Eyes squinting against the wind, he made out the form of his companion. He had his hands digging in to his scalp, eyes wide open, his open mouth now a silent howl of agony. Ed flung his automail arm around Alfons' head, clutching the other boy to him and screaming defiance at the darkness. "Not him not him not him!" Clenching his eyes shut did not good as he focused every scrap of focus in his mind on protecting Alfons' mind, in taking the excruciating weight of the knowledge of eternity on himself, blocking the river of information that was threatening to drown the both of them. Pain lanced through his head, twice anything he had felt before.

Things were moving in dancing through his head that's seemed impossible, that were impossible. Creatures he had never even imagined tramped their footprints onto his fragile skull. Worlds, technology that shouldn't have existed, sounds, words, voices all clamoring together. Faces and feelings raged, waging battles through his brain that left him pummeled and in pain. Edward felt like his head would split apart, like surely he was dying, too much was being crammed in to his head, how could anyone survive the knowledge of the universe twice over crashing through their mortal body.

And then it was gone, and light burst across his vision, blessed, silent, drifting light, with nothing, no thoughts, no voices, no pain. It was peaceful and perfect and white. Well, maybe tinted just a little red.