I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do, however, own an Ed plushie, a pocket watch, and a yellow kettle.
Jeeze, the cold weather and school are going to kill me. Anyway, here's the chapter!
Camille was in the hospital for three weeks.
She would've been let out a lot sooner, if she hadn't caught a cold while recovering from the infection that caused her to collapse.
The first week was spent in a fever induced delirium, muttering names and memories in a fitful sleep.
The second week was spent exchanging stories, and the one where Ed and Al retrieved their bodies kept Camille hanging on Ed's every word.'Haven't you heard this story?" "Several times. It never gets old." Once they ran out of stories, they played poker. Camille had a wonderful poker face, conning both Roy and Ed out of a good amount of money. They then decided not to play cards anymore. Camille was indignant, but when Ed offered to get her something else to do, she waved him off, holding up the deck of cards. "Up for a game of bullshit? No gambling involved, I swear."
At the end of her last week in the hospital, Camille was mapping out her new identity. "You're my cousin from the west," stated Roy. "You and your parents were travelling to surprise me when you were abducted and your parents were killed. As ransom to send to me, he cut off your hand. Fullmetal and I rescued you -in secret- and thought you were fine, due to your behaviour."
Camille hummed. "I like the cousin cover-up, but the other parts don't fit and/or probably shouldn't be a part of that explanation." She turned to Ed. "Winry knows how you lost your limbs, right?"
"Only that I preformed the taboo."
Camille hummed again. "We'll just tell her that what took your arm and leg took my hand." Ed nodded. "As for my background, we should keep the cousin part, but here's this instead of your depressing kidnapping story: I'm your cousin, a western farmer that lives alone. I recently lost my hand in an accident involving some barbed wire, and since I can't farm with one hand, I came to stay with you."
Roy frowned. "And the alchemy?"
"A habit I learned from a boarder I let rent a guest room."
"The pocket watch?"
"You stole it and gave it to me for a birthday present a few years back."
"The pictures of your family?"
"Old. Taken before they all died in a car crash."
"Depressing."
"Exactly. Sob stories will ruin any suspicion."
"What if she asks about your farm?" Roy asked. Camille didn't miss a beat.
"Two acres of wheat, one acre of pasture for 3 cows, two sheep, a goat, and a horse.
I had a two story five bedroom, sold to a lovely young couple by the name of Silva. The boarders name was Kyle, and when he wasn't hitting on me or helping with the harvest, he taught me alchemy. He moved out when I refused to marry him. I had a cat named Moo, and a German Shepard named Dave,"
Ed whistled. "And you came up with this when?"
Camille's expression didn't change,simply turning a page in the book on her lap. "I travelled a lot back in my universe. Got in trouble a lot too. Different names, different backgrounds. Limit yourself to no more than five, and you can be anyone you want."
"Sounds complicated." The men chorused.
"Not really. All they are are stories, and," she gestured at the pile of finished books next to her bed. "I love stories."
A few hours later, Camille was back at Roys house, which she was tentatively referring to as 'home'. A suitcase lay forgotten by her bed as she sat next to it.
They were departing to Risembool by train the next morning. "I thought you said she was in Rush Valley?"
"She travels back and forth a lot. She has a lot of customers there, and her mentor doesn't trust himself with her machinery."
"I see. I'm going to pack, so I'm going to my room. Night boys." With a double 'Goodnight' at her back, here she was. She had packed quite awhile ago, and now she simply stared at her watch as it swung above her head. Each swing brought new memories. Whoosh. She was five, watching the pretty lights as Daddy made her a present.
Whoosh. She was six, watching as she made a sandcastle with the 'pretty lights'.
Whoosh. Seven, muffling alchemical light as her elder sister sung her heart out on stage.
Whoosh. Nine, watching as Abby made her own circle.
Whoosh. Eleven, watching as her elder sister sneered at her while ripping apart her favourite doll.
Whoosh. She was thirteen, watching as her fathers face grew serious when she asked about the philosophers stone.
Whoosh. Fourteen, watching as her mother grew cold.
Whoosh. Fifteen, watching as her mother burned her fathers books, watching the flames made the ink glow, watching as the pages crumbled to ash, smelling the acrid smoke as it stung her nostrils-
Camille sat up. 'When did I fall asleep?' She asked herself. Opening her pocket watch, she was surprised to see it was after midnight. 'Well, there's no sleeping now...' She thought, standing up and putting her watch in her pocket. She walked to the door, putting her ear to it by pure habit. When was the last time she had done this? She believed it to be sometime before her father died, years ago. The hallway, however, was silent.
She opened the door slightly, looked both ways, then sprinted down the halls. She would cleanse this place as soon as she got back from Risembool, she decided. After stumbling around for awhile, she flicked on the kitchen lights, sighing in relief from the break in the darkness. A flicker caught her eye, and she twirled, hands flying up in a stance that she found almost all to familiar. But, to her relief, it was just her reflection in the refrigerator. She pulled said appliance open, frowning. 'Expired eggs, ham, milk, leftovers...' After thinking for another moment, she pulled out the ham, set it on the counter, and pulled a loaf of white from Roy's breadbox. Cutting a slice of ham, she made a sandwich and put the ham away. Pulling out the milk and a bar of chocolate, she set a pan on the stove, filled it with milk, and let it boil, careful not to burn it. Setting a small piece of chocolate inside, she let it melt and, humming, she poured a small amount into a black mug. Then she turned, and came face-to-face with Roy. He didn't look well. He was sallow-looking, gloves on and ready to snap.
She didn't looked scared. Worried, maybe, but not scared. "'Lo. Did I wake you? Sorry. I had a nightmare." She stated, taking a sip of cocoa.
Roy shrugged. "Doesn't take much to wake me, Camille. Trust me." She handed him a mug. "What was your nightmare about?"
Resting her hip against the counter, Camille sipped at her mug. "Memories. It started out well, as most nightmares do. I woke up when my mother was burning Dad's journals. Seeing as one of the few things left of him went to ash, smelling the smoke..." She shivered, taking a deep swig of still steaming cocoa. "When I woke up, I was hungry, so I came down here. I'm gonna need a flashlight or something on those stairs, couldn't see worth a damn."
Roy nodded. "Well, we're leaving in a few hours, so get to sleep as soon as you can. I'll walk you up if you want."
Camille smiled, set her sandwich on top of her mug, grabbed her mug off of the counter, and followed Roy up. He opened her door for her, and she smiled again. Walking inside, she pressed the door closed with her hip. Then, sitting on her bed, she began talking to open air around bites of her sandwich. "Daddy, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'mma talk to you anyway." Munch. "The prosthetic technology is absolutely amazing." Munch munch. "I'm going to get some soon, if only to start knitting again." Munch. " Oh! Oh! Daddy! I found a good use for the lying you were so proud of. I'm going to have to use it a lot here. I hope I can keep up with all of them, though. I really like it here. The people here are a lot nicer than home."
Brushing crumbs off of her bed, she pulled the blankets back before draining her mug. Laying down, she whispered, as she drifted off, "I love you, Daddy..." And then, she was passed into the hands of Morpheus.
Long chapter for you guys! Longer than I expected, which is nice.
Review please?