Chapter Five

Where Sara makes a promise that is so rudely interrupted.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

A week had passed since the incident in the bath, and since then everyone had grown accustomed to living with each other. Edward deemed the second floor of the house to be too poisoned to live in safely, so the four residents were staying on the couches in the parlor and the living rooms. It seemed to Sara that even if she was allowed to wander through the house, she was being quarantined to the parlor away from everyone else. She kept to herself in the parlor, unable to bring herself to meander out of the room. At least she had the chance to read the newspaper now and again, just to scan for any news on the Nazi troops that were assembling. Sara had a feeling that it would be a while before anyone caught on to where she was. However, despite that slight comfort, it still pained Sara to listen to the others gab into the late hours of the night and their echoing laughter.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon was one of the original seven wonders of the ancient world. Edward was learning quite a lot about them, whether he wanted to or not. Kerstin had insisted that they sleep on the porch, which was fenced in with glass like a greenhouse, her favorite room in the manor. There was what used to a rain gutter nailed up just below the ceiling that had been filled with potting soil. Leafy green plants that Edward had no name for had been planted in the gutters and hung down over the room, along with bright flowers that he had never seen before – at least not in Germany, he had not. Old armchairs and sofas had been lined up along the walls, a coffee table sitting in the center of the room. Kerstin explained to him that it had been designed after the Hanging Gardens, which had been built by a Babylonian king for his homesick wife. The way she spoke of the story made Edward think that she liked the story for the romantic aspect of it, but Kerstin insisted that it was because she wanted to travel the world. Whether his assumption was correct or not, it was clear that it was easier on everyone to be spending the night in such a cheery place.

"Sara talks in her sleep, you know," Alphonse informed, musing mostly to himself. He was comfortably sprawled out on the sofa on the porch, mesmerized by the swaying plants dangling above him. "When you and Kerstin traveled into Munich yesterday, and I had to keep an eye on her, Sara began mumbling about being homesick. She wants to go back to France."

Kerstin smiled, nodding. She was brushing her blonde hair up into a bun at the top of her head. "That should not be a surprise," she replied, looking up at him from her seat on the floor. She was sitting at the table, with papers and an assortment of pens strewn across the tabletop. For days now she had tried to return her focus on the paper she had to write for her classes at university. After hours upon hours of thinking, she was still staring at a blank slate. "In the beginning, right after she moved in with me, Sara tried to convince me that she was glad to be here. I could see it in her eyes that she hated every minute of it, though. She did get better at hiding it."

"It is hard to think that someone could grow that close to a university after only a year," the younger Elric cogitated. He reached up lazily, running his hand down the vine above him slowly. He, like Kerstin, found himself amazed with the Hanging Gardens. "France must have been wonderful."

Kerstin raised her light eyebrows curiously. "What are you talking about, Alphonse?" she asked. "Sara has always lived in France. She grew up there."

"Then why have you always lived here with your father?" Edward piped up, bringing attention to him across the room. He had his nose buried within the pages of a research journal, written by non-other than Sven Amsel. He was wondering if Sara would ever write about her own research, which is if the Thule Society and the Nazis were not looking to open the Gate again and going after her. He was now capturing Kerstin with the intensity of his golden eyes.

"My mother and my father were both German, both of them were studying to be teachers when they met. Of course, when I was born, I would stay within the country. My father liked to travel, however, and once he took the job at Munich, he began lecturing in other countries about the development of chemistry and physics. He actually lived in Paris for a year, which is when he met Sara's mother. He claims it was a brief affair; that he was drunk out of his mind and did not know what he was doing, but either way it resulted in Sara. Apparently, both of my parents knew about her and sent her mother money for childcare. I had no idea about any of this until Sara wrote to my father, requesting a place to live after her mother passed away at the beginning of the summer." Kerstin shrugged her shoulders with a sigh, taking hold of her pen again as if an idea had come to her.

The story was difficult for Edward to wrap his head around. At home, in Amestris, once two people were married, that is how it stayed. They remained faithful to each other, at least in Risembool. It was unheard of that a couple break up or have an affair. Thinking that Saraphine was the child of such a betrayal was a tad heartbreaking. "That is why this world is going to the dogs," Edward dismissed, lying back on the couch, "mark my words."

"Brother," Alphonse scolded. "Just because you don't consider it our world does not mean that you should speak of it like that. How do you know what you're even talking about?"

"Jeez, Al…" Edward muttered.

Kerstin brought herself to glare at the older Elric brother. She was clearly confused; her blue eyes were spinning with questions. "He is right, though, Alphonse," she reassured sadly. "He knows more of what you are talking about than you would think." She had discovered that it was simply easiest if you play along with their conversations, pretend to know what they were talking about, and occasionally comment.

"I am going to check on Sara," the golden haired man announced, dodging another chastising from his brother and Kerstin. He placed the book on the coffee table beside Kerstin's papers and rose from the couch, casually strutting from the room.

"He marches around this place like he owns it," mumbled Kerstin sourly under her breath as she watched him leave.

Edward slipped in to the parlor quietly. Sara was lying on the sofa with her back facing him, a thin blanket draped over her waist. A window illuminated the room just above her, allowing cheerful light to pour into the room. He advanced toward her, trying to see over her shoulder if she was sleeping or not. Her brunette locks hid most of her face away from him. "Sara?" he whispered.

The girl tossed in her sleep, rolling onto her other shoulder to face him. She was squinting, trying to remain asleep. "What?" she spat, her voice rasping.

"I just came in to check on you," he answered, holding his hands up defensively. Her icy eyes were enthralled by the swift movements of his automail appendage.

"Aren't you so kind?" Sara remarked sarcastically. "I was trying to fall asleep."

"I can see that." Edward could also see that the blisters that used to cover her face had faded; the worst were only red blotchy patches. Scars did make themselves prominent around her hairline, however, which did not have hope of disappearing for quite some time. "Do you need anything?"

She sighed dramatically. "You don't have to keep up with the doctor act, you know," she murmured. "I know why you want to help me. I don't mind if you slack off a little bit. Besides, this is the best time to do it since I am actually feeling healthy."

"You are the farthest thing from being healthy," he reminded her bluntly, his golden eyes flashing.

"I know," Sara confirmed. "But that doesn't mean that I don't feel like I am."

Edward nodded, understanding. He moved to sit on the floor, cross-legged beside her head. "I should probably keep you awake for a while longer," he mused. "You have been sleeping since last night."

"Are you trying to get more information out of me?" she asked, her mind trailing back to all of the formulas and ingredients that she had not told him the first time that he had asked about her research. Sara knew that, even if what she had discovered had been leaked, he would have to go through her trouble of figuring everything out so it was precise all over again.

"No, no, not unless you are willing to tell me anything." Edward grinned happily.

"Of course not," Sara sniffed. "Do you want to tell me what it was like on the other side of the Gate?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," he shrugged. It was a surprise to Sara because she had honestly been expecting him to have a rotten attitude about it. Edward watched her dreary gray-blue eyes brighten to their normal dazzling beryl in interest. It was one of the best reactions that she had given in several days. "That world reminds me of this one, they are more similar than you would think. The names for things are different, and the places aren't the same, but I have seen plenty of familiar faces."

Sara cocked her head to the side slightly. "Really?" she asked. "Am I familiar to you at all?" She bat her eyelashes, as if that would stir up his memory of her.

"No," replied Edward. "I haven't seen a combination of hair and eyes like yours; your hair would probably indicate that you are Drachman but your eyes are too much like Winry's to confirm that. There are plenty of girls in my home world that look like Kerstin, though. Still, I haven't seen an exact match for either of you."

"Who is Winry?" she inquired, allowing her curious side to shine through. Sara was finding that the more time she spent talking with Edward, the more she was letting her guard down around him. It was like she was growing closer to him, even though she did not want to.

"She is my automail mechanic."He lifted up his metal prosthetic limb for emphasis. Sara made a sound of acknowledgement. "Anything else you want to know?"

"You didn't tell me much," Sara grumbled, thinking it was a bit soon for him to get fed up with talking to her.

He sighed. "It just…it hurts to talk about it sometimes, especially when Al isn't around. I don't want to get choked up."

Sara could hear the unsteadiness in his voice, see the tears swelling along the bottom rim of his eyes, and sense how vulnerable he truly was. "It is your home, your true home. Why shouldn't you?" she tried to comfort him. In truth, it was awkward seeing him so weak. In that moment, she saw one thing to say that could pull the heart-wrenching sorrow away from his face. "I will help you open the Gate."

Edward's face tensed, his expression growing unreadable. He had never meant for her to say that.

"On one condition," she continued sharply, not wanting him to think she had suddenly turned soft. "You have to take me with you."

His mouth immediately opened in protest, but he was at a loss for words. Edward waited to say something, as if telling her off was just going to come to him. "You can't do that," he said finally. "I can't let you do that."

Sara froze. Edward thought it was because she had nothing to fight back with, but he soon realized it was because she heard a car pull up to the front of the manor. The engine cut short, her heart leapt in fear. Sara knew it would be her father walking through the door, only to find her poisoned and two strangers living with them now. She wanted to tell them to hide, but there was no time. The front doors flew open. Before she knew it, Sven was crossing the hallway and stopped abruptly when he came past the doorway into the parlor.

"What the devil is going on here?" he sneered through his teeth.

I don't exactly have much to say about it. I hope it was good enough. I haven't had a very good day, especially since people have been strongly doubting my writing skills. Hopefully I can keep this story up and running through a slight depression, or I can just channel my anger and sadness into an original book I have been meaning to get to since forever…

By the way, anyone who can tell me where I got Sven's only line from gets a cookie.

Until next chapter.