Danny: And we're back for chapter 5!

Me: And I bet it was sooner than you thought! Well, maybe not…

Danny: So, anyway, I think eight reviews counts as a worthy number of the special surprise.

Me: And that surprise is – a competition!
Danny: YAY! I sound so cheesy!

Me: It's only open to people who have reviewed, faved or alerted so far, before the date this was updated. Get why I wanted you to review now?

Danny: All you have to do is send Hayden a PM about your favourite homunculus and why you like them so much. And, yes, Greed can be counted as two different people for this one. (Original and Greed!Ling) The prize is a 3000+ word oneshot of your choice. We'll choose the winner both through a random generator and who gives the best explaination. Go on, convince Hayden that her favourite shouldn't be Pride! I dare you!

Me: Enjoy the fic guys!

A New Way to Bleed Chapter 5: We Start From Here

"Does it hurt a lot?" Jacob asked Edward worriedly as they were waiting for Winry to finish sterilizing the tools.

Ed sucked in a breath and looked down at him. "Yeah, it does," he answered honestly, "sorry."

Maes frowned. His father didn't really make the situation better, so he added a quick, "it's my mum who's giving you the operation. She's the best automail mechanic in the whole of Amestris!" He grinned to lighten the mood further.

Jacob's shoulders seemed to un-tense at that, but he was still breathing heavily.

Ed had decided to accompany his son and his wife during Jacob's nerve attachment, with Alphonse and May upstairs with Nina. Soon, he, his brother and his son would be leaving for Central. He had made the decision for them to travel by taking the night train so that Maes could partly sleep off the boredom of a twenty-seven hour journey to the capital city. Plus, he and Al could catch up after a few years of not seeing each other. Obviously, he had had some time with him in Xing a few weeks ago, but that was only for a short while and he had his brother's new bodyguards to contend with. He was technically almost a prince of Xing now, but only in Xing. Outside of the country he was just regular Alphonse Elric. An extremely long journey with nothing to do but stare out the window was the perfect chance to chat.

"Ready, Jakey?" Winry smiled warmly at her patient. She, like all the others, was trying her very best to make the man feel comfortable.

"Yeah, I suppose," he replied shakily.

"Well just think of this," Maes said, "after the operation, you'll have a leg that can't be bitten off by rabid animals."

The man laughed slightly at that, but not much.

Ed put some latex gloves on his hands as well as the rest of the Elric family that was present. As he began to pass Winry some tools, Maes walked up to where Jacob's head was. The poor man was still trembling, so he patted him on the shoulder lightly and said, "don't worry, Jakey, it won't last very long."

In fact, deep down, Maes knew that the operation nerve attachment would have six hours at the very least. It was always the longest for the legs, as they had to get the balancing right; Winry had told him that Ed's operation had lasted almost eight and a half hours.

"Ok, I'm about to start with the first nerve, Jacob. Be ready," Winry said.

For a moment there was a tense silence and Maes wasn't sure why nothing was happening, then Jacob suddenly jolted backwards into the head of the bed (thankfully cushioned by a few pillows) and a whimper of pain escaped his mouth.

Maes frowned. Squeaky sounds like that wasn't something a grown man should make. But that was what an automail operation did to people. He had seen it more times than a thirteen-year-old boy should.

The cries went on until about one o'clock, when May had offered them all a break by cooking then an early traditional Xingese dinner. They were almost two thirds of the way through at this point. As he ate, Maes didn't have much of an idea what the meat was, but Alphonse seemed to both recognise and enjoy it, so the boy decided that if it was good enough for a prince, it was good enough for him. It was delicious – a stuffed bird of some sort, slow-roasted in rich oils – although the more time he spent eating, the more he became anxious about his fast-approaching trip to Central. Maes had packed his own things the night before, so he had nothing left to sort out. And Ed, finally free from his fever, was raring to go also, complete with a repaired suitcase. May had made the decision to stay at home and help Winry on the farm, along with Nina whom the Elrics had decided was too young to go.

Every time Maes thought about it, more and more questions appeared in his mind. What was life outside of Resembool like? Were cities really as big as he had heard? How many cars would he see? Would he meet General Mustang and, maybe, even the shemale Fuhrer? It was almost too much for him.

He was also very curious about Selim Bradley. The boy was fifteen – only a few years older than him. Would Maes like him? Or were people different in Central, with a different accent or culture? There was so much he didn't know. The boy's nightmares didn't sound very nice, so he could be really moody from all of the stress.

All these questions, Maes thought, but never any answers.

Well, at least, not yet.

Jacob's nerve attachment seemed to go quicker after dinner and before they knew it, it was over. Winry wiped her hand along her forehead and it came back covered in sweat.

"All done, Jakey," she said, her face bright red from all the hard work.

The patient closed his eyes and sank his head back into the pillow, sighing with relief. "Thank God for that," he muttered breathlessly, "I thought it would never end."

"Don't try to move it until I say, though," she instructed, dropping the last of her tools into a container of water. The clear liquid instantly turned a diluted red, washing the blood off of the blades and screws. Maes grabbed a cloth to help and began wiping the gore off of Jacob's new leg.

"I don't think I would want to make the effort even I was allowed," he confessed, "I'm so tired. All I want to do is sleep."

Winry laughed, "I'll agree with you on that one."

"I guess we'll leave you to it, then," Ed said, "I have to go and finish packing." He turned to his son, "Maes, we're leaving in an hour. Be ready."

"Yeah, alright," Maes replied, handing Jacob a glass of water. He paused when he saw that the man's eyes were closed, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Leave him to rest," Winry put her hands on his shoulders, "he'll be better soon."

Maes looked up at her, "will he still be here when I get back?" Jacob wasn't going to wake up before he left, and he at least wanted to say goodbye to the man.

"Maybe. Go and grab a snack," she suggested, "you'll probably be hungry on the way, so it's best if you eat now."

"Yeah, OK, Mum," he yawned as he left the room, taking one last look at Jacob. It had been a big day for him, and it still wasn't over yet.

The butler knocked on the door, "your excellency, may I come in?"

"Just a second, please." Olivier dismissed the maid who had just finished securing her dress.

She sighed. This really wasn't something she should be wearing, but it was necessary for the occasion. Thankfully, she had people working for her that knew one or two things about wedding anniversaries.

"What is it, Belvadier?"

He gave a quick salute as he entered the room, "Fuhrer Olivier, there's a Mrs. Bradley here to see you. She's with her son, and she claims it's urgent."

Olivier paused, unsure what to think, but then continued to walk out of the room and down the stairs, following her butler to the front door of the mansion. The woman, whose first name she still didn't know was standing in the doorway, clutching the tiny hand of her fifteen-year-old son.

Fifteen. The Fuhrer just couldn't get over that. He was just so small and frail.

The sides of his face were covered in bandages and he was as pale as a sheet, shaking all over. He looked completely vulnerable.

"Selim?" was the first thing she said as she walked up to them, "are you OK?"

The boy just stared at the floor without a response.

Mrs. Bradley spoke up," Sir? Is it OK if Selim and I have a meeting with you?"

The Fuhrer frowned. Out of all the people in Amestris, or maybe in the entire world, Mrs Bradley was the woman she'd hoped she would never have 'a meeting' with. It meant something was up. And she didn't like that.

She cleared her throat, trying not to show any worry, "of course. We shall discuss this in private. Belvadier?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Please fetch the keys to the fifth conference room. Mrs. Bradley, Selim and I have things to discuss there."

A look of surprise mixed with curiosity flashed across the butler's face, but he quickly composed himself. "Right away, your excellency." The man quickly went down the hall and disappeared out of sight.

"Come with me," Olivier gestured to her guests as she starting walking, "it will be unlocked by the time we get there."

Mrs. Bradley kept pace with her as she walked, but Selim seemed to have to be almost dragged along the floor.

The boy glanced up at the walls. He been to Olivier's mansion plenty of times before, but everything seemed taller and more threatening now. His day had so far been a series of fits, finally dying down just after lunchtime. That had given him a chance to chance to eat, although he hadn't managed to hold anything down for too long. Selim was hungry, tired and his head felt like it was about to burst, but he was too afraid of going to sleep again. Would he wake up in the same way? Clawing at his face to try and distract himself from the pain again? He didn't want another day like this, never, ever again.

His mother had also insisted that he came with her to see Olivier. He wasn't sure what to make of that, but he was too out of it to care.

"We're here," the Fuhrer announced suddenly, stopping by the wall. Selim, through his slightly blurred vision, could just make out a faint line in the wallpaper.

Olivier pushed on it and a door seemed to appear out of nowhere, swinging inwards into a dark room. It was almost like she was performing alchemy, but the previous etches into the wall told him that this was not the case. The Fuhrer flicked a switch and the room was bathed in a soft orange light.

Selim let go of his mother's hand and stepped into the semi-darkness. Something clicked inside his mind, and suddenly it felt like a weight was lifted off of his back that he didn't know he was carrying. His breathing felt easier, and, as he peeled the bandages off his face, he felt that the wounds were gone.

"What… what is this place?" he looked around in awe. The room was like any other meeting room – a large round table with a hole in the middle surrounded by chairs, plain wallpaper and a map of the country almost completely covering one wall. But he could see that it was completely free of dust, although there was a certain smell in the air that seemed to tell him that no one had been inside recently.

"This is Conference Room Five," the Fuhrer stated simply, closing the door behind her as she and his mother walked in, "it is only used for highly classified meetings, usually only between me and a few of the generals. Miles included. And," she eyed him sternly, "what is said in this room, stays in this room. Got it?"

"Uh… yes, Sir," Selim replied, "but… why so secretive? I've just had a few panic attacks, that's not really a problem for y-"

"It's a problem for you, Selim," Mrs. Bradley interrupted her son, "and we've brought you in here to try and resolve it."

"Why?" he asked as they all sat down. He appeared to have got a lot of life back into him, but his voice was still slightly raspy, "is it an illness or something? Can you cure it?" He was smiling now; hope beginning to light up in his eyes. To not go through that pain again… he would give up almost anything.

But much to his dismay, she sighed and shook her head, "I'm afraid the only person who knows really what it is is your father."

"Then can't you find him?" Selim had now turned to the Fuhrer, his fists clenching, "you have thousands of men and women in your military! You can use some of them to track him down!" the boy was shaking now desperately. He was leaning forward on his chair and his tiny hands were locked onto the Fuhrer's arm, a complete informality towards her but he didn't care in the slightest.

"It's not that easy, Selim. I can't just-"

"Why not? If he can make me better then why not find him?" the short appearance of his smile had ended and now tears were trickling down his face. He let go of her and stood up, but then suddenly decided his legs decided that they couldn't support him. He was hysterical.

"Calm down darling, please, this is nothing to shout about." Mrs. Bradley reached out to grab her son, but he pulled away.

"Calm down? Why would I calm down when there's a way to fix this? You expect me to be all relaxed when there's a way to stop this happening!"

A huge crack appeared down the centre of the table, and all three of them were thrown backwards into the wall. Selim's head felt like it would explode, and all the emotions –desperation, anger, fear – seemed to consume him from the inside until he couldn't see anything. His world was starting to spin again, the room becoming so distorted he couldn't tell which way was up or down.

Things were flying around in front of him, and two larger shadowy figures were standing over him, trying to reach him. But something made them stop and pull back. Then the pain returned.

Now all he could hear was the sound of his own screaming and agony gripped his body, so hard and so fast he somehow managed to cry even louder. He felt himself clawing at the sides of his face again, but no blood came no matter how deep he dug his nails into his skin. He needed that blood, needed it, to pull him back to reality. It was the only thing that reminded him that he was real – that he existed outside of this world of torture. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, managed to suppress a scream as well as continue his search. If he didn't find any, he could be trapped in this hurt forever, and he just couldn't cope with that. Still no rush of warm liquid came, and he felt like he was reaching his limit, as if he wasn't already.

"STOP!"

"Selim!"

Maes fidgeted around impatiently, uncomfortable on the wooden bench. His suitcase sat beside his feet on the platform floor.

"When's the train gonna be here?" he half-asked, half-moaned to Alphonse.

His uncle checked his watch. "It's five-fifty," he replied, "so it should be here in about ten minutes. Although I wouldn't complain if I was you," he added, "you're lucky your dad's even letting you come. Central's a dangerous place – isn't that right, Brother?"

Ed grunted in agreement. He had become more and more moody over the course of the hour.

Maes folded his arms childishly and looked away from his father, grumbling.

"Don't make the effort," Alphonse advised his nephew, "he's only grumpy because he's nervous. Selim kind of does that to people who know him properly. Brother's known him since the day he was born."

"Really?" suddenly the boy was a bit anxious, "what's he like, then?"

Al shrugged, "I've only seen him once, back when he was little. He was about three or so, so it's unfair to judge."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a while, waiting, with nothing else to really speak about. The time carried on ticking by.

Eventually the stone floor began to rumble and Maes could see the smoke from the train's funnel drawing closer and closer, so he grabbed his luggage and stood up, walking to the edge of the platform. Al and Ed followed closely behind. It seemed like they were just as eager to get on board as he was.

Maes had obviously never been on a train before, as he had never left town. Of course, he had seen them as they passed through Resembool, but he had never caught a glimpse of what it was like on the inside.

This train, as it went directly to Central, was fairly long, providing for all kinds of classes. Ed had bought them second-class tickets, which gave them their own compartment, but with nothing too fancy. That was perfectly fine for Maes, of course. He didn't care at all – he was on a train. It was for the first time in his life, and that was enough for him.

He'd never travelled on anything so fast before. Barely anyone in Resembool actually owned a car, after all. The trees and fields rushed past him so fast they blurred and sometimes made him dizzy.

"Are you OK over there, Maes?" Al called from the other side of their compartment.

He yelled back, his voice being lost over the noise of the open window. The exhilarated smile was clear on his face, though, so his uncle could easily tell his answer.

Maes couldn't believe that he was finally, finally, leaving Resembool.

Danny: Thank you, thank you all for riding Selim's emotional rollercoaster! Please remember to take a look at your photo on the way out! Framed pictures are £7.99! Magnets and key rings are £4.99! Buy one get one 10% off!

Me: That's terrible pricing Danny.

Danny: Theme park merchandise is a rip off these days, you know.

Me: *facepalm*

Danny: Anyway…

Me: As for the prize in the competition, NO YAOI. OR LEMONS. NO. MAYBE NOT EVEN LIMES. In fact, it's best if, if you win, you suggest something that's not pairing related. We have too much of that on ff already. And don't make me write your OC in an adorable adventure with her boyfriend Ed and his cat where they hunt for the rainbow stone in Mary-Sue land. Also, thank you to my wonderful friend Bethany for thinking up the name 'Belvadier' during maths last week XD

Danny: And Chloe, who seems to enjoy reading this even though she has no idea what's going on!

Me: I'll be doing more contests based like this in the future, so keep a look out!
Danny: And remember to press that review button!

Me: Bye!