A/N: I've just posted a long author's note about this story on my profile. I'm not going to post it in the story because I don't want to interrupt the flow, but if you're interested in what my opinion of this story is and what I'm going to do (thanks to you guys!) to make the chapters better in the future, please check it out. And while you're at it, vote in my new poll! Thanks again!

Chapter Fourteen: Forgotten Already

I left early in the morning, before Al woke up. I didn't want to face him. Roy was at the garage when I got there.

"You're early," he said.

I shrugged.

It was a slow day. Most of the time I hid under the hood of cars, saying as little as possible. Finally, near the end of the day, looking at me with a strange expression in his eye, Roy said, "What's up with you? You're unusually quiet."

I stayed still for a moment, wondering what to say. Then I pasted a smile on my face, extracted myself from the hood of the car and straightened up. "Ah, just thinking. I…I've got to find some place to stay, because I just think it's time to give my brother a little space, you know?"

He looked at me concernedly. "Really? You sure?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," I said, trying to control the amount of blood rushing to my face. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now, so I just think I might as well get out now."

"I see… well, have you got any ideas where you're going to stay?"

I shook my head. "Nah, not really. I figure I'll find someplace. Although… well, I'm going to leave some money with my brother, you know, to compensate for everything I haven't paid for… so I'm not exactly sure…" I trailed off.

"Oh, yeah, I understand. But you know, if you can't find somewhere, then you could stay at my place for a while. It's pretty big, I'm sure we could handle one more person," he offered.

His tone was polite, but sincere. I could tell he was seriously offering this to me. However, I shook my head. "Thank you, but I really couldn't. It can't be that hard to find-"

Roy laughed. "You're in New York City, Ed. We're way overpopulated already. There's no way you're going to find a place that is affordable and also has sanitary living conditions. I'm offering you somewhere that meets both of those terms. Well, to some extent." He grinned. "Come on, just until you save up enough to get somewhere better. I'd like to help you out. Maybe this'll give you the jumpstart you need."

It sounded for a second like he was going to say more, but then he thought better of it and stopped. I weighed my options. It would be great to be out so soon, but I wouldn't want to impose on what seemed like an already too large household. "I don't know-" I began.

"Really, Ed," he said. "I want to help you."

I thought about it for a moment longer. Then, I said, "Okay, yeah. That would be great. Are you sure?"

"Completely."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, I owe you a big one-"

"Ah, don't thank me too early," he laughed. "We still need to negotiate rent." I smiled. "So how does this weekend sound? I could help you move in."

"Yeah, of course, that would be terrific. Really, thank you."

"No problem," he said, grinning. "Now come on, it's time to close up."

Walking home that day, in the lazy sort of silence that comes with a warming of weather and melting of snow, I looked again to that spot between buildings where that spider had been trapped. There was no web there anymore.

It was with a sense of what felt like justified freedom that I fell asleep that night. I had talked to Al only as little as possible. He looked guilty. I didn't mind. If he chose to feel bad about something, that was his choice, and there was nothing I could do about it – isn't that just what he had told me last night? Anyway, things were looking up for me. I was happy.

The dreams came back that night.

At first, it was good. I didn't even know it was a dream; I thought it was real, and that I was back with Noa. She smiled as she held my hand, riding in the back of a truck, like she had been the day I met her. But then there was an ever so slight change in her features, and she let go of my hand as a small bundle of cloth appeared in her arms, and Rose and I were standing in the middle of a ballroom. She was whispering words of comfort to her baby. She looked so young.

She looked up at me. "I knew what I was saying," she said, her voice echoing.

The scene changed again. I was on a train, then walking next to a suit of armor, then holding a little blonde-haired girl, then playing with a dog with a metal leg…

A woman appeared, standing still in front of me, even as the scenery around us changed. My mother smiled. Then, as Noa had, she changed the tiniest bit. And she was Sloth. And I was killing her.

Suddenly, it was all dark. There was a voice. "Equivalent exchange," it whispered in my ear, "is a lie."

There was a column of light in the distance. It was shining bright light on a letter. I picked it up. "Dante," came my father's voice, reading the letter aloud, "my love…"

There was a blinding pain in my abdomen. A homunculus was grinning. His eyes flickered to the place where he had stabbed me. Blood covered his arm, my body, the floor, and everything was red.

Then, there was a baby, lying on the floor. It wasn't Rose's baby – I didn't really know what Rose's baby looked like, but somehow I knew that it wasn't this one. This one had a tuft of blonde hair on its head, and its eyes were closed. It was sleeping.

The babe reappeared in Hohenheim's arms. He smiled and showed it to his wife. Trisha, looking worn and tired, held out a hand to brush the child's face. "We'll call him Edward," she whispered.

The smell of rotting flesh overwhelmed me and my father was being crushed in the jaws of a gigantic serpent. I was trapped in a rocket. Outside, I could see Alfons being shot, and I knew that if I could just get out of the rocket and get to him, then everything would be alright and he would be alive, but I was stuck, and I couldn't get out, and then there were hands, black hands that grabbed at me and would not let me go-

I awoke with a start. It was still dark outside. Sitting up in bed, I rubbed my temples. I glanced over to Al's bed. In the dim moonlight, I could see that he was lying down, staring at the ceiling. A tear slid down the side of his face.

I turned away. Still silent, I lay back down and closed my eyes. He didn't say anything, and neither did I.

Al and I said very little to each other the following day. It was like there was this wall between us, and to knock it down would take too much energy, so we both were content with it staying up, dividing us. After all, we wouldn't have to deal with each other for much longer.

On Saturday, Roy came over to help me get my stuff over to his place. He talked to Al politely for a few minutes. They both seemed to acknowledge the fact that they were tied together because of Rebecca. Both of them cared about her – it was a lot like a conversation between a father and the man his daughter was involved with. It was awkward. For me, at least.

When I was stuck in the passenger seat and Roy was driving to his house, he asked me, "You have a fight with your brother?"

"Why does it matter?" I replied curtly, staring out the window.

"No reason," he said coolly. "Friendly conversation, Ed."

I sighed. "Sorry. Yeah, we had an argument. But we're brothers. It's fine."

"Is it?" he asked, and despite his airy tone of voice, I couldn't help but wonder if he meant it.

He stopped in front of this large, brick building. There were few windows, and dark gray curtains hung limply in the few ones that were there. Getting out of the car, I murmured, "It looks like a prison."

Roy laughed. "Used to be an orphanage. My grandmother bequeathed it to me in her will, hoping I'd do something worthwhile with it. To tell the truth, I wish she'd given me the contents of her bank account instead." He chuckled again. I wasn't really sure what to say to this.

I didn't bring much. I didn't have much in the first place. With Roy carrying some, it only took us one trip to get everything inside. It was a slightly dingy place. At one time, it might have been grand – a dusty old chandelier hung in the front hall, and the tables all had ornate carvings on the bottom of their legs. The carpet was a dull red. "Ed's here," said Roy as he passed an open door. I waved and mumbled, "Good morning," as I passed the kitchen where Riza, Winnie, Anne, Tom and a girl I didn't know were sitting. Winnie's face broke into a wide smile when she saw me.

Roy led me up a flight of stairs, to where the carpet gave way to a shiny wood floor, and into a room on the left. It was a very plain room; there was a bed, and a dresser. Roy dropped what he was holding onto the bed. "I know we have an old desk lying around somewhere," he said, surveying the room. "We could move it in here later, if you like."

"This is perfect," I said. "Thanks."

He grinned. "My pleasure." He paused. "You want to come downstairs? I could introduce some of the others girls to you."

I thought of Winnie, and her smile when she saw me. "Sure," I said.

We went back down the stairs, and he led me back to the kitchen we had passed on our way up. Roy and I sat down at the table, and Riza got up. "Would you like some coffee, or maybe some tea?" Tom left his mother's side and went to sit on Roy's lap.

"No thank you," I replied. Anne, who was sitting in between Winnie and the girl I didn't know, stared at her hands.

"Hello," said the girl I didn't know. "I don't think we ever formally met. My name is Margaret." I recognized her as one of the girls who was arguing that one day with Rebecca and Winnie. She smiled at me, but not with that kind look that I had grown accustomed to. There was something else there, especially in the way she was leaning in over the table toward me.

"Nice to meet you," I said.

Anne, who had also been there, said nothing. Winnie said it for her. "And of course you probably already know Anne," she said. "Anne…"

Anne nodded vaguely and mumbled something that might have been a greeting.

"Irene, why don't you introduce yourself?" asked Riza.

Irene, who I hadn't noticed, was engrossed in a book, leaning against the counter of the kitchen, shook her head. "He already met me."

"Where's everybody else?" asked Roy.

"Helena's helping Daley," replied Winnie, eyeing me. "Rebecca's trying to talk to Lillian. I think Shauna must be with them. Fiona's in her room."

"You're sure of that?"

Margaret flipped her long hair back. "I personally checked on her half an hour ago," she said haughtily. "Can't you just trust me for once, Roy?"

Her voice sounded so fake, I expected Roy to roll his eyes and reply with a sharp comment. But he looked her in the eye and said, "Of course I trust you."

There was a split second of silence, then Winnie said, "So Ed, did Roy show you where you're staying?"

"Oh – yeah," I said. Addressing Riza, I continued, "And, just, thank you so much for letting me move in, I swear it's only temporary, until I-"

She smiled and shook her head. "Stay as long as you like," she said. "I'm sure none of us mind. Besides, I think you'll bring something to this household."

"Like what?" asked Irene, looking up from her book, amused.

"Like masculinity," said Margaret mildly, trying to catch my gaze. I felt my face flush.

Irene laughed. "What, Tom isn't enough for you, Margie?" she asked.

Margaret threw her head back and laughed, a little unnecessarily. "Of course he is," she giggled. "Come here, Tommy."

She spread her arms out to Tom. He buried his face in his father's shoulder. They all laughed, and I found myself laughing as well. It was strange, to me, how easily I had been accepted as one of them.

There was a noise as someone came down the stairs. The sound of two girls talking floated into the kitchen. "Why won't she talk to me?"

"She's probably just scared. Or something. I don't know."

"Right." Rebecca appeared at the doorway, with a girl behind her that looked extraordinarily like Rebecca herself – Shauna, that was her name, wasn't it?

"Oh, hello," Rebecca said when she saw me. "I forgot you were coming today." Suddenly, something in her eyes sparked. "Actually, I think I'll go for a walk."

"I'll come with you," said Shauna and Winnie simultaneously. Winnie stood up. Rebecca grinned devilishly at them.

"I don't think you want to," she said with a biting tone in her voice. "I'm going to see Alphonse."

She walked out the door. Winnie sat back down, disgusted. Shauna whined, "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Roy shook his head and turned to me. "Sorry about her. She's just…"

"No, it's okay," I said. "Al talks the same way about her."

He nodded, still looking unsettled. Riza said to Shauna, "What did Lillian say?"

"Nothing," replied Shauna, leaning on the counter next to Irene. "As usual. What are you reading?" she asked Irene. Irene rolled her eyes and passed the book to Shauna, who inspected it briefly, then handed it back.

I realized then that there were at least three girls I had not met yet. "Who's Lillian?" I asked.

Irene put her book down. Shauna shook her head, and Anne hunched her shoulders over even more, if that was possible. Even Margaret glanced at the ground.

"A girl," said Winnie. "Obviously."

"She's relatively new," said Roy. "Only been with us for a couple months. She doesn't talk much."

"Oh… I see," I said. "Is there anybody else I should know about?"

Margaret let out a derisive snort of laughter. Riza said, "Other than Lillian, there's only Daley and Helena you haven't met. Helena's a little quiet, but a very sweet girl. Daley is…"

"Also a very sweet girl," said Roy smoothly, stroking his son's hair absentmindedly. "Let's just say you'll definitely know Daley when you see her." I nodded.

The day passed quickly. It was crazy, how much I seemed to blend into their family. It was like I had always been there. Margaret kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye, and I was happy to see that Winnie tended to insert herself into the conversation whenever Margaret looked at me like that. Anne seemed to stay next to Winnie, wherever she went, and Shauna, Irene and Riza went upstairs at random intervals. Irene seemed to be the oldest by far of all the girls, maybe in her mid-twenties, not much younger than Riza or Roy. Once, a girl with twisted mousy brown hair and dark circles under her eyes came downstairs, only to whisper something to Riza and disappear again. Winnie told me that was Helena.

In the evening, Roy said, "Why don't you get yourself settled in your room? It'll be a while longer until supper."

I nodded. "Alright… sounds good." He smiled at me, and I left. Fortunately, it was easy to remember where my room was located, so I didn't have any trouble. There wasn't much to unpack. I set the photograph of Alfons on the dresser, and hung Al's painting on the dreary wall. All of my clothes I put in the drawers of the dresser. There was a photograph of Noa, Al and I that I had tucked between two shirts to keep the glass from breaking. I took it out and smiled.

"Very nice," came a voice from the doorway. I turned around. Winnie was observing the painting on the wall. "Are those your parents?" she asked.

I nodded. "Oh. Yeah."

She walked up to it and inspected the signature. "Your brother painted this?" she asked, not even looking at me. "It's really good."

"Yeah, it is," I said, waiting for that characteristic surge of pride I felt whenever someone complimented some of Al's work… it didn't come.

She tore her eyes away from the painting and went to stand by me. Looking over my shoulder at the photo in my hands, she asked, "Who's that?"

I knew who she was asking about. "That's Noa," I said. "She was… a friend."

Winnie nodded wisely, as if she understood. "Well," she said heavily. "Supper's ready. Riza told me to tell you that you don't have to come down if you don't want to, but she doesn't mean it." I smiled and set down the photo next to Alfons' on the dresser.

"Alright," I said, and for some reason I allowed her to take my hand and pull me out of the room. She took me down to the first floor, but instead of going into the kitchen, she led me into a larger room, with a table that could seat at least twenty people. Thirteen places were set. There was something strangely foreboding about the room.

Irene was already sitting down, talking quietly to Fiona, who was swaying side to side slightly. Shauna was laying her head on the table, a look of utter boredom on her face. Anne was on the other side of Irene, looking almost exactly the same she had earlier today. "Come on," said Winnie, and I sat down next to her, across from Anne.

"Fiona," came a voice from outside the room. "Come here for a minute." She stood up slightly unsteadily and headed toward the door. Once she was out, I turned to Winnie.

"What's wrong with Fiona?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I don't know," she replied. "She's just strange. For some reason, she can't seem to function on her own. She'll stay here a while."

"In other words," said Shauna dryly. "She's a basket case."

"She's not a basket case," said Irene. "Don't call her that."

"Oh, of course," replied Shauna. "I forgot. Only you're allowed to call her nuts."

"Becca's really began to rub off on you, Shauna."

"God, does everyone in this house always blame Becca?" asked Shauna. "It's driving me crazy!"

"Don't say that," said Anne gently, and then Riza entered the room and put a platter of food on the table.

"Where's Daley and Lillian?" she asked.

"Probably still upstairs," replied Irene smartly, as Margaret and Helena slipped into the room and sat down. Margaret went to sit on my other side, but then Anne made a little noise and Margaret sighed and went to sit next to her. Helena ended up next to me. A minute later, Fiona came into the room, followed closely by Roy and Tom. By then, there was a buzz of conversation going around the table. The weirdest part about it was that I was being included – it was hard to believe that this was my first day there. They had adjusted seamlessly to let me in, and the effect was incredible.

A few moments later, Riza came back, with someone else. The girl had strawberry blonde hair and a large scar across her face. On top of that, she was remarkably far along – her belly was huge and swollen in pregnancy. Roy's words came back to me: You'll know Daley when you see her.

Everyone continued talking when Daley came in, as if trying to pretend nothing at all had happened, but there was a change in the atmosphere. It was slight, but it was there.

After Daley came a girl with dark brown hair that looked black, and a straight, thin nose. Her eyes were watery and tired-looking. She glanced once around the table, then her eyes widened and I felt them rest on me. She didn't move, even as the conversation at the table continued, even as Winnie told me something that I didn't hear.

And, suddenly, as Lillian whispered something, the whole room went silent.

In a slight British accent, she whispered, "Edward?"

I looked up. Puzzled, I glanced once at Winnie, who shrugged. "Um…yes?"

Lillian frowned. "You don't remember me?"

Everyone was staring at me. I shook my head slowly. "I'm sorry… I don't know who you are."

"But… don't you? We were fifteen the last time we saw each other, don't you remember?"

Something clicked and I understood. The other Edward – the one whose body I had taken over for a short time years ago – it was only rational that he had had a life before his death… he must have known this girl, this Lillian, and now she mistook me for him…

"Oh," I said dimly. "I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

She looked at me, with something like desperation in her eyes. "But… I know I haven't! You're Edward, aren't you?"

"You're thinking of someone else," I said gently. "It's not me."

I met her gaze, and some feeling, some thought passed between us, and she knew it wasn't me. She nodded and, though none of the others could understand what happened, she sat down, looking slightly less miserable than when she walked in.

The room was still silent, until Shauna asked, "What the hell was that?" and laughter rang out, and conversation began again.

I talked as well, and put on a smile, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Lillian was still looking at me, staring at me, wishing that I was who she thought I was…

A feeling of guilt overwhelmed me that night. There seemed to be an unspoken rule that, before someone from the other side crossed the Gate, their counterpart in this world had to die. So it must have been my fault the other Edward had died. If I hadn't come, maybe Lillian would have made a life with the other Edward. If I had just died, instead of-

No. If it was my fault that this Edward died, then that meant it was Al's fault that Alfons was killed.

I closed my eyes. "No," I whispered.

There was no way… it couldn't have been his fault…

Could it?

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I can see this chapter so clearly. Every movement and all the settings I can imagine in my mind's eye perfectly.

I'll leave you with that.