Hello everyone! This is my first story I have published in many years, and the first time I have been compelled to write anything in about that much time. I hope you all like it and please leave a review if you'd like!
- RhysFM
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters.
Light.
Blinding, ethereal light shone throughout the room, and he hurt.
He distantly recognized that he was shrieking, crying out for his older brother as he watched his body crumble and evaporate into the voltaic air. Terror gripped his heart in a way that was both dizzying and disorienting, and his chest irregularly heaved while he helplessly watched his body disintegrate and become absorbed by the light.
The rays blinded him, and he shut his eyes tightly, overpowered by the raw power coursing through the old house.
When he finally opened them again, he felt detached and strangely empty; the pain was gone. He was sideways, laying on the floor, and his soul ached. Dust settled around him and he sat up, alarmed by the sudden metallic creaking that came from his body.
"What is this?" he asked softly, a morbid curiosity emerging in his chest, startled by the ringing he heard in his inflection.
He looked down in dread and saw two large, black gloves attached to hulking metal arms and his vision swam for a moment. Past his gloves, he noticed a figure, bent over and taking uneven, heaving breaths.
He gasped, somehow, and looking in shock at the bleeding stumps where his brother's right arm and left leg had been.
"I'm sorry, Al," his brother said grimly, clutching what was left of his arm with his left hand and taking shuddering breaths.
"Brother!" he cried, hastily standing up in his new body, stumbling a bit as he knelt next to his brother.
"Brother, what happened to me? And…" he paused, assessing the damage, gathering his brother - who was suddenly so incredibly tiny and fragile – in his arms, "…your arm…" he breathed uneasily.
"With just my left arm, I was only able to bond your spirit to the armor that was sitting over there," Ed panted, squeezing his eye shut in pain, fighting to stay awake despite how much blood he had surely lost.
Al was sure that if he had a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.
"So, what about mom?" he asked instead, doing his best to keep his voice even.
"It wasn't…" Ed choked, "…human," he finished, and Al dared himself to look at the grotesque monstrosity they had created, lying in the middle of the transmutation circle drenched in its own blood. Its ribs were exposed, and it took painful, shuddering breaths as its exposed organs pulsed threateningly.
"That can't be," Al said, voice slightly shriller than it had been moments ago, refusing to comprehend what he was seeing. "How come?" he asked, mind reeling, "Brother, your theories should have been perfect."
"My theories weren't what was wrong," Ed said, eyes fluttering as he fought to keep himself awake. "What was wrong…" he paused as he screwed his eyes shut, "…was us." He breathed shallowly and his head lolled against Al's chest plate, and his brother felt panic rising in his soul.
"Brother?" Al asked, gently prodding at his brother with his gloved hands, growing more concerned when he received no reaction.
Hurriedly, he forced himself to his feet, clutching his brother's body against himself as his metal body groaned.
"Hang on, brother," he murmured as he watched Ed's eyebrows crease in distress unconsciously.
He flung himself up the stairs and out the front door, not having time to think about how tirelessly he was running, and how quickly, until he found himself at the Rockbell's, just now registering that it was raining outside.
Grandma Pinako opened the door, Winry standing behind her. Grandma's eyes were wide in disbelief and her mouth was agape.
"Grandma!" he cried anxiously, rainwater rolling down his metal cheeks, "Brother…" he choked with sorrow, "Help my brother!" he pleaded. Winry must have said something, but he didn't register as he watched the color quickly drain for her face and sweat collect on her temples.
He was speechless, clutching his brother closely as he said again, "Help my brother."
Not wasting any more time, Pinako commanded Alphonse to bring Edward upstairs, snapping into action as Winry followed closely behind, the stairs creaking under the weight of Al's new body.
"Lay him down," Grandma Pinako said, gesturing to the surgery table.
As gently as he could, Al placed his brother down, his lack of senses making it difficult to determine if he was being too rough with his already abused body.
As Grandma snapped on some gloves, Winry glanced at Al, her face still ghostly white and said, "Why don't you go wait outside, Al?"
Knowing he would be in the way, especially in this body, he complied and shut the door behind him, accidentally slamming it with the force of his armored body. He felt trapped, wound-up and had no way to expel this nervous energy.
He paced in the hallway, wringing his metal hands and tried his best to ignore the sounds he heard from the surgery room.
XX
He didn't know how long it had been when the door finally opened, revealing an exhausted Grandma Pinako wiping the sweat from her brow. Winry had a little more color in her face now but was still visibly shaken up, hands shaking slightly. Ed was lying in a bed, unconscious, his mouth drawn into a slight frown.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Al looked at his brother with his soulfire eyes before Grandma Pinako asked if they had tried to bring back their mother. Al didn't respond, guilt weighing heavy on his soul and didn't have the chance to say anything before another voice behind him spoke up.
"So that's it," the low voice said, "That was the light of human transmutation, huh?" it asked, and the nonchalant tone made Al squirm, though he didn't move to see who it was.
"I've never seen such a furious reaction in a transmutation before," the smooth voice pushed, and the door clicked shut.
Grandma Pinako had her eyes narrowed, and Winry looked similarly alarmed and Al slowly turned to see a man in a military uniform standing in the doorway, his jet-black hair damp from the rain. If he could, Al would have narrowed his eyes. Had this man come to arrest them?
"Pardon me," the stranger said suddenly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver pocket watch that glistened ominously in the light.
Al gasped quietly. "A state alchemist?" he asked in disbelief.
"What business does the military have here?" Pinako asked gruffly. Al shifted his weight nervously onto his left leg. "As you can see, these boys have suffered grave injuries," she continued, eyes still narrowed at the man.
"This letter came my way," the man said, procuring a tattered envelope from his coat pocket, and Al felt an unidentifiable emotion clench in his chest.
"That's one that brother sent to Dad's acquaintances!" he exclaimed in realization.
"We've been searching for your father, Hohenheim, for a long time," the man said placidly.
"We still don't know where there father is," Grandma Pinako cut in, "There are people who are hurt here. Go away." She commanded icily, but the man didn't move.
"If they performed human transmutation and escaped with their lives, then I am more interested in them than their father," the man said, and Al felt his non-existent insides twisting in anxiety and a strange sense of pride. "They could make fine state alchemists."
"This boy hasn't done anything," Pinako said, "Go away, we have things to do here." Her voice was rough.
After a long glance at his brother, the man turned away and made his way to the door.
"I am state alchemist Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang," he said as he opened the door, "Come pay a visit to Central." He left without another word.
Al found himself staring at the door after the Colonel had left, dumbfounded.
XX
After Winry and Grandma Pinako went to bed, Al found himself in a frustrating state of both exhausted and alert.
He shifted throughout the night, somehow uncomfortable despite not having a physical body. He sighed as he lifted his gaze out the window, looking at the vast expanse of the sky and the bright moon. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked at his brother as he slept. It seemed that, for once, he was sleeping soundly, and he had a tranquil expression on his face.
A pang of sadness consumed his soul as he realized he wouldn't be able to sleep for a long time, if ever again. How had the transmutation failed? They had been so thorough, checked every line and curve of the circle several times. What had gone wrong?
Al sighed again and froze when he noticed his brother stirring in bed.
"...Mm…Al?" he asked groggily, turning his body towards his brother, eyes far more vulnerable than Al had seen them in a long time.
"It's okay, brother," Al replied, "Just go back to sleep."
His brother blinked, awareness suddenly dawning on his face as he noticed the suit of armor sitting in the shadows. He instinctively reached his left arm to stump where his right arm had been, a dark look on his face. Al didn't say anything for a long time, and neither did Ed. What could they possibly say?
"I'm sorry, Al."
Al almost hadn't heard him; he had spoken so quietly. He snapped his gaze up and saw that his brother was rigid in his bed, eyes hard and downcast.
"…Brother?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm so sorry, Al, this was my idea," he said, gripping the sheets with his left hand until his knuckles were white, frowning deeply.
Al was at a loss. It was probably due to the various medications his brother was on for pain and infection that he was being so open, so vulnerable. Grandma Pinako had said he was on morphine and the anesthetic would still be wearing off if he woke up in the night, so he wouldn't be in his right mind.
"It was my decision, too, brother," Al reminded him, scooting closer to the side of the bed.
Ed shook his head jerkily. "No, I shouldn't have pressured you," he said remorsefully, curling forward in on himself, and Al felt his soul clench. He wanted so badly to cry, but the armor wouldn't allow it. He felt something welling up in his soul and fidgeted slightly. It was uncomfortable but bearable.
"You didn't pressure me, I wanted to bring her back too."
Ed fell silent for a moment before his finally looked up at his brother's unrecognizable metal face. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Al cut in: "I wanted to do it, brother," he said with conviction.
At that, he watched Ed crumple slightly and his eyes suddenly glistened with unshed tears.
"I wanted to," he said again, softer this time.
Ed blinked hard and roughly brought up his left arm to swipe at his eyes in sudden anger. Al felt his soul welling up again at the sight of his brother so upset and was surprised when an abrupt sobbing sound came from his armor. Although he wasn't crying in the most literal sense, the pressure he felt in his soul somewhat released as the sobbing continued.
His brother blinked in surprise, not even moving to wipe away the tears leaking down his flushed cheeks.
"Al?" he asked, sounding concerned, as he reached his left arm out to rest on the suit of armor's right arm.
Al went to reassure him that it was okay, but when he looked down and saw his brother's hand on his metal arm and understood that he felt nothing, he only let out more dry sobs.
"Al, what's wrong?" Ed asked, eyebrows furrowed together in disquiet.
"It's just-" Al began, trying to calm himself down, "I can't feel anything." As soon as he said it, he regretted it, as he watched Ed close in on himself, guilt flashing across his face.
There was a long pause.
"Al." Ed said, voice resolute, "I'm going to get your body back. I don't know how yet, but I'm going to get you back," he said firmly.
"But brother-" Al began, voice now steady again. "No, Al," Ed said, eyes blazing, "I got us into this and I'm going to get us out."
"Brother…"
Even though he knew he wouldn't be able to feel it, Al leaned down overcome with emotion and gathered his brother in his arms, being careful to be gentle so he didn't crush him on accident. Ed was silent for a moment, body tense, before he relaxed and rested his cheek against Al's chest plate.
If Al concentrated, he could feel a slight pressure where his brother was. While not the same as feeling as he had with his body, he felt some comfort in that. He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but when he looked down and saw Ed's eyes were closed and he was breathing evenly, he carefully settled him back into bed.
"Goodnight, brother" he whispered, looking back up at the stars as the moonlight washed over them.
XX
5 years later
XX
Dark.
It was so dark.
This was the first thing Al noticed as he awoke, surrounded by nothing but inky blackness and an angry ringing in his head. He whined low in his throat, trying to shift his body to a less awkward position.
Ed held his breath then, suffocating on the stagnant, crackling energy in the air. Two fingers were pressed firmly against his younger brother's throat, and he choked on a relieved sob as he finally felt the slow, light thrumming of his heartbeat.
Al's eyelids fluttered erratically and he gasped suddenly, straining his neck to look at his brother as he greedily filled his lungs. He was weak and the electric air on his skin stung but he was alive, and he was breathing, and he could feel.
He felt hot tears gathering in the corners of his dilated eyes and an overwhelming, foreign thrill of anxiety kept him laying still in the dust as he gasped.
"Brother," he rasped, grimacing at the sour aftertaste in his mouth but happy, so happy to be alive.
"Al," his brother choked, clutching his pale hands so tightly it hurt, as if when he let go, he might dissolve into the air with the dust as he had all those years before.
He didn't notice when the Colonel's team burst through the door, the man's baritone voice distantly urgent. He didn't react when scattered footsteps came closer and someone gasped, whispered his name.
He let his eyes close and allowed himself to simply feel the weight of his brother's shaking torso on his chest, the wetness collecting around his eyes and trailing down his cheeks. He felt someone gently touching his shoulder - his shoulder! - but was too tired to open his eyes again.
Hushed voices made his head spin as he lay on the concrete, slowly moving his shaking hands to feel the air blindly for his brother, forcing himself to crack his eyes open. The sobs had quieted, and he saw amber eyes peering into his own, a sense of relief washing over his frame.
"Brother," he murmured again, slightly dazed but smiling.
"Here, Alphonse, take my coat," another voice said distantly. He shuddered as the thick, rough wool of someone's military jacket draped over his chest.
"Brother," he sighed contentedly. It was all he could say as he felt his grasp on his brother's jacket slacken as he closed his eyes.
Even as he drifted off, his smile stayed.
XX
When he woke again, he could feel he was lying on something plush, his muscles relaxed and the soreness in his joints from earlier gone.
He groaned softly and slowly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting the ceiling. It was bright, much brighter than the dank warehouse he had awoken in before, and it took a moment for his squinted eyes to focus.
"Al?" A familiar voice called with uncharacteristic gentleness.
He turned his head slightly until he met eyes with his brother once again. Emotions overwhelmed him and he felt a smile stretch across his face as he began to cry softly.
"Al? Hey, what's wrong?" Ed asked, voice suddenly overcome with worry.
He had pushed himself up into a seated position- it was now that Al realized he was in a hospital bed- and threw the bedsheets to the side and stood up, hesitating for a moment before reaching down and tearing his IV from the crook of his arm, grimacing.
He rushed over to his brother's side and held his frail hands gently.
"I'm just-" his breath caught in his throat, "I'm so happy" Al said as he peered into those familiar eyes, tasting salty tears that rolled down his cheeks and onto his lip.
"I am too, Al," his brother agreed.
"Brother-" Al said tightly, focusing on the feeling of his brother's hands on his for the first time in years, "I can feel."
Ed smiled a watery smile and gripped his brother's hands tighter, looking into those light eyes he hadn't seen in so long, relief painted across his face. It was then that the door creaked open, and Al stiffened his neck to see who it was.
"Bastard," his brother straightened and greeted the arrival, the insult uttered with an almost unnoticeable fondness.
"Fullmetal, Alphonse." The man returned, coming into Al's line of sight, and gave him a slight smile before frowning at the boy's older brother.
He sighed heavily. "Fullmetal, didn't the doctor tell you to leave the IV in this time?" He asked warily, but there was a shadow of a small smile on his face. The two bickered back and forth for a moment and Al felt himself smile despite himself, overwhelmed by the normalcy of it all.
He took a moment to use his newly gained senses. He could smell something suffocating and medicinal, along with a fainter, gentler scent he recognized immediately. He could hear faint voices in the corridor, a clock softly ticking, his brother's and the Colonel's voices. He could taste something acidic in his throat mixed with the same saltiness from earlier. He could feel gentle circles rubbing into the back of his hands, the thin sheets against his flesh, the chilly air from the vent blowing onto his unkempt hair. And he could see his brother, the Colonel, and the soft light filtering through the white curtains.
"Brother," he whispered suddenly, "you did it."
His brother's face was overwrought with emotions for a moment before he grinned widely, "I told you I would, Al," he said simply, though the weight behind those words held a million unspoken promises.
Pride swelled in Al's heart, and he closed his eyes, feeling that unfamiliar tug into sleep once again as he smiled.