The Waters of Lethe
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA, I just like to play around in its world and torture Ed for awhile.
Author's note: post series semi drabbles. 10.7.11: In the course of submitting this series to a couple of FMA fiction groups on Deviant Art, I've been tweaking each chapter. This one was tweaked more than others and could be classed as a partial re-write because I've added more detail, or fiddled with the text that was already there. New reviews are greatly appreciated.
Warning: may contain CoS movie spoilers,violence,death,and strong language.
Beta:Jedimasterwithapen
54.1 I'm Not Nina(Ich bin nicht Nina)
Edward stood in front of Greta's newly covered grave and cried. He probably couldn't explain to himself, or to Klaus, or even Dr. Stein why he shed tears for someone he'd barely known.
Yet he still cried.
He saw the young woman again the very next morning after Klaus brought him to the dining hall for breakfast. Beef broth again and Edward frowned at it. Some of his fellow patients were having steak and eggs and he looked wistfully at their plates.
Klaus assured him with a sympathetic smile, "It won't be long, Herr Elric. But Dr. Steins wants to be sure your system can handle it before you have solid food again."
Edward was very familiar with liquid diets from his sickly days and he had to start all over after an extended illness. Any attempt to eat solid food before his system was ready invariably resulted in him vomiting it right back up. Still, the steak and eggs smelled so good he was salivating like Pavlov's dog.
And then she came in.
She wasn't weeping this time, but her eyes were red-rimmed and surrounded by puffy skin. Edward caught her attention and ventured a soft "hallo". She responded with a glare of such intensity he flushed with embarrassment and looked down at his bowl of broth. Now he wished she hadn't sat so closely. He could feelher anger almost as a physical force, like a blow to his face. It made his stomach twist into knots and he lost his appetite.
Klaus was speaking to another patient in a wheelchair parked next to him, a wizened old bald man with an oddly yellowish face and milky blue eyes. "Herr Braun, this is Herr Elric, who I also look after," he spoke rather loudly and Edward got the sense the elderly man was hard of hearing.
Herr Braun gave Edward a gap-toothed smile, a verygap-toothed smile because he had hardly any teeth. He garbled something like "guten morgen', so Edward nodded and repeated the greeting back.
Klaus whispered sotto voceto Edward, "Herr Braun is 102 years old, he's nearly deaf, blinded by cataracts, and unable to walk. You can also see he is jaundiced. Yet for all that, he still refuses to shut himself up in his room. He very social and likes to meet people."
After Herr Braun returned to gumming his oatmeal, Edward went back to drinking his broth in careful sips, and tried to avoid slurping. He felt an odd sort of dichotomy about this situation. This pretty young lady to his left shut off all human contact, while this old man to his right sought it out at every opportunity. His appetite restored somewhat, he cleaned up the bowl and drank all his juice.
"Herr Elric? You remember the way to the solarium? I'm rather busy with Herr Braun, so you can take yourself there if you like."
Edward backed his wheelchair from the table, but it took him some fiddling to get himself aimed in the right direction. Controlling this thing was harder than it looked and he was sweating by the time he reached the hallway. He jumped when someone grabbed the handles and spoke into his left ear, "You really are hopeless, aren't you?"
He flushed again and twisted around to see who was pushing him down the hall. It was the same girl, and she still looked angry. He opened his mouth to speak but she just snapped, "Shut up!" in a tight voice. So he turned forward again and let her push him to the solarium.
After the rain and wind of yesterday, the sky was a cold looking pale blue with only a few high fluffy white clouds to mar it, as if Mother Nature was apologizing for her earlier outburst. Edward sat quietly on the wheelchair and she sat on a wooden bench next to him. They watched the clouds drift through the panes of glass and Edward's mind had begun to wander onto other trails of thought when she finally spoke.
"My name is Greta Gulvarsson, I'm twenty years old and from Berlin. I was engaged to be married to a nice young lawyer-in-training when I collapsed at my bridal shower a week ago. The doctors gave me test after test and they diagnosed me with leukemia. My fiancee broke the engagement and he informed me by letter because he didn't have the guts to visit me in the hosp... SHUT UP!" she snapped when Edward tried to speak. "I began to despise all men from that moment on, that is why I glared at you. It's nothing personal, so don't take it that way."
Edward's mind was in such a whirl, he didn't know WHAT to say. I'm sorry? that was no help. Your ex-fiancee is a jerk? too obvious. You are so brave? both useless and insulting. And she beat him to it, anyways.
"I know exactly what you want to say, but you know anything you said would be just a cliche, right? So don't bother. A fatal disease is really quite liberating, wouldn't you agree? Now I know I am going to die, I can say what is truly on my mind and I don't have to worry about hurting anyone's feelings."
He just held out his right hand to her and replied, "My name is Edward Elric. I was kidnapped and brought here against my will, but I intend to escape eventually."
All in all, Edward thought it had been a good introduction. But he was sadly mistaken if he thought the revelation was going to stun her to silence. Laughter wouldn't have been so bad, except she went further and openly jeered at him. Yet she took his metal hand without hesitation and gave it a healthy shake.
And then she laughed at him. "You are obviously insane, but I think I can tolerate you. Let's go outside after lunch and you can tell me more of your delusions."
In less than a week, Edward and Greta had a system down. They sat together at breakfast then she pushed his wheelchair to the solarium for several games of chess. She was obviously far better at it because she invaribly crushed him in the first and last games. The others tended to be closer and Edward suspected she was holding back to give him a fighting chance. After lunch, Klaus would bring their coats and they took the ancient elevator down to the first floor.
Going left out of the elevator took them to the south terrace of the Angelika. This was a pleasant area consisting of a brick patio lined with lounge chairs for patients to take the air in. At one end, three wide and shallow steps led to a sweeping lawn, green in summer, but now covered with colorful leaves.
The wheelchair hindered their progress because Greta didn't have the strength to get the thing down the steps. Edward offered to get out of the chair, he thought his unsteady legs could take him down to the lawn. But she would snap, "SHUT UP!" at him and they ended up staying on the patio, and it wasn't a bad place to sit. One wing of the building flanked it on the east to provide shelter from winter winds, and a pergola thick with bare, leaf less vines did the same on the other side.
After Dr. Stein finally decided the wheelchair was no longer needed, Greta took Edward's ungloved metal hand in hers and they walked together around the grounds. They went down the steps, across the lawn and down a trail through a stand of trees.
"DId you know? Dr. Stein's grandfather laid out this trail, he did a good job for being just a man, didn't he?"
Edward had to agree. The trail twisted and turned and each curve revealed something interesting, usually sculptures in various materials, benches, or the view of a small, quiet pond. Personally, he thought the sculptures were rather tame, the subject matter being classical stories of gods and goddesses strangely clothed in the nineteenth century manner. The pond wasn't very interesting, although it looked very pretty surrounded by mostly bare trees, and the benches were comfortable.
On the side of the pond furthest from the Angelika,they sat on a tete-a-tete, a curved bench with seats at right angles, and Greta asked, "Tell me where you come from, Edward. And don't lie this time. I know you don't come from Munich, because your accent isn't right."
She's going to die anyways, and she'll take my secrets to her grave. So what could it hurt?
Edward told her the truth. "I am from a parallel world, a world on the other side of the Gate that separates it from this one. My home is a tiny village called Risembool and I have a little brother named Alphonse who I dearly love. I miss him a lot and I want to go home to him."
Greta smiled at him with something like approval. "Thank you for telling me the truth, Edward. All my life, people have lied to me because they thought girls were too weak to handle reality. As a reward, you may kiss me now."
Edward should have been used to her abrupt mood changes by now, but this one threw him for a fresh loop. "Umm, ok."
He leaned closer to Greta,who obligingly closed her eyes and puckered her full, rep lips. But no sooner had his lips brushed hers when she pulled back while making an angry noise in her throat. Then she slapped him hard across the face before she jumped up and stalked off, back straight and face stiff with fury.
Edward sat there and held one hand against the stinging pain in his left cheek, too stunned to be angry with her.
As long as I live, I will never understand women.
But the next morning, Greta came and sat next to him at breakfast. She talked to him as if yesterday's incident had never happened, yet her cheeks seemed a little flushed as if she was embarrassed. They went outside after lunch and walked hand in hand down the path, but instead of sitting on the tete-a-tete, they kept going and finally reached the end of the path. It came out on top of a gentle rise overlooking the main highway to Berlin. A bench was placed there for comfortable viewing, but Greta remained standing.
She stared out towards the city she used to live, laugh, walk, read, and dance in, it glimmered like a mirage, just thirty miles away. Edward didn't say anything because he knew she would just tell him to shut up, and he didn't know what to say anyways. She finally spoke up and said something which startled him.
"Edward, will you promise me something?" Almost immediately, she plunged on before he could reply,"I have this feeling that someone, somewhere, has something very bad planned for you. So on the day I am buried, promise you will do your best to escape."
A cold chill arrowed through Edward's insides, but he nodded at her because she was looking at him so keenly, almost as if she could read his past writ large on his face. Greta stood with her back straight and chin up for another few seconds before she suddenly sagged, her breath whooshing out from between suddenly paled lips.
"Edward, I'm cold. Please take me back to my room." He wound one arm around her shoulders, but she didn't protest his touch this time.
Greta was openly shivering, and leaning against him by the time they regained the patio. Worried, Edward supported her while they went inside to the ancient elevator and rode it up to the fourth floor.
The hospice floor was quite unlike the lower floors. Everything was hushed here, the nurses walked more quietly on carpeted floors, the scones, and even the paint on the walls was muted.
"My room is 425." Almost directly above mine, Edward thought.
The unnatural quiet bothered him as they passed closed doors. Silence reigned behind most, but he heard sobbing come from behind one, and low moans of "why me? why me?" from another. Greta's grip on his coat tightened when she heard those sounds and he could feel almost feel her heart pounding. Her teeth chattered gently as she shivered, although both became more pronounced when those sounds came within earshot.
He was just reaching out to turn the knob of door 425 when it opened from the inside. "Ach! Liebchen, there you are!"
The speaker was Katarina a maternal-looking woman,and Greta's nurse. Edward hadn't seen her until a week or so ago when she began to accompany Greta down to the common area for meals. She enfolded the shivering girl in her arms, "You are so cold, liebchen, come and have your nap." Edward made to follow across the threshold, but Katarina fixed him with a steely look, and stared down her nose at him, "Men are not allowed in a lady's room, Herr Elric."
"Oh, let him come in, please Katarina? He is the only other person who hasn't treated me like I'm made of glass." The nurse relented before her plea, but she made Edward wait by the door while she took Greta into the small bathroom and got her ready for bed. Once she was settled beneath a thick coating of blankets, Greta pointed at a bookcase along a wall opposite the bed and ordered, "Read to me, Edward."
He walked over and picked out a book at random. Then he returned to her bedside where Katarina had set a straight-backed wooden chair.
He sat down and leaned back, the wood gave with only the faintest squeak. It smelled of beeswax and was very uncomfortable. Helooked at the book's front cover, a German edition of a famous British novel: A Tale of Two Cities.
Edward opened the book, and flipped past the title page to the first chapter, and started to read aloud, "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times."
A new system began.
After their afternoon walk, Edward would take Greta back to her room on the fourth floor. Once she was settled in bed by Katarina, he would open A Tale of Two Citieswhere he'd left off the day before and read aloud till she fell asleep.
Edward was so depressed after that first day he went back to his room and crawled into bed with his coat and shoes still on. He shivered, even with blankets piled on, and wept for Greta and this helpless feeling in the face of her cancer. He refused his supper and only cajoling by both Klaus and Bruno convinced him to undress and put his pajamas on.
He feared Greta would never leave her bed again, but she was back on the third floor in time for breakfast the next morning, but she leaned heavily on Katarina's arm. The number of chess games dwindled to only a few, athough she was weaker, Greta's mind was still sharp and she beat him soundly in every game this time. It was inevitable that she gradually weakened a bit every day, until she was confined to a wheelchair and it was Edward's turn to push her along the path after lunch.
Chess, walk, read.
He finished A Tale of Two Cities and began Moby Dick.
"Call me Ishmael."
The days flowed into weeks, and the weeks into three months until one morning in early February, Greta's chair was empty. Edward promptly lost his appetite. He pushed back his chair and fled up the stairs to the fourth floor. His knock on door 425 was answered by Katarina, and at first she didn't want to allow him-still in his pajamas and dressing gown -inside.
Then Greta called from the bed, "Is that Herr Elric? Please let him in, Katarina. I want him to read to me."
Edward was shocked by her appearance. Greta's face had become more pale over the last month, but on this morning her skin was whiter than paper. Her eyes were sunken into that face where they shone with a light like hot coals. Her lips were colorless and dried out, with deep, bleeding cracks. Occasionally the tip of a too-red tongue came out to try to moisten them.
Her breathing was labored, and wheezy and her voice cracked like a pump organ with a hole in its bellows. "Read to me, Edward. Don't say anything, just read."
He had finished reading Moby Dick yesterday, so he went to the bookcase and selected another volume, Gulliver's Travels. He opened it and flipped past pages to the first chapter in a mad rush, as if words alone could stop the leukemia. He started reading aloud, in a voice that sometimes wavered with emotion.
"My father had a small estate in Nottinghamshire: I was the third of five sons."
His stomach growled for breakfast, but Edward kept reading until Katarina put one hand on his shoulder.
"She's fallen asleep, Herr Elric. Go back to your floor and have lunch."
"I -I'm not hungry." the very thought of food, of eating food, revolted him.
"You are lying, Herr Elric. I can hear your stomach growling from the other side of the door. Go and eat, then take your walk. She will sleep all afternoon, and you may come back after supper and read to her some more."
He couldn't argue with her common sense approach. Greta may be dying, but he was alive and healthy, and he needed to take care of himself. Down in the dining room, Edward thought he would just pick at his food, and he was surprised to discover he was absolutely ravenous. He ate beef stew with hearty gusto before getting his coat and going outside to walk.
While he walked down the path, Greta's words echoed in his mind, I have this feeling someone, somewhere, has something bad planned for you.
For Greta, the end came quickly. Edward came upstairs after breakfast three days later and was shocked to find Dr. Stein in her room. He sat on the other side of her bed and listened to her heart with a stethoscope, and from the serious look on his kindly face, Edward just knew. But he sat down in the wooden chair anyways, picked up Gulliver's Travelsand started to read aloud.
"My master was yet wholly at a loss to understand what motives could incite this race of lawyers to perplex, disquiet, and weary themselves, and engage in a confederacy of injustice, merely for the sake of injuring their fellow-animals; neither could he comprehend what I meant in saying, they did it for hire."
Greta stirred when she heard his voice, she turned her head towards Edward and her eyes fluttered. But they stayed open for only a moment before closing again.
The noise of her breathing was appallingly loud and Dr. Stein said, "Fraulein Gulvarsson has contracted pneumonia, possibly a result of catching a chill while outside. But it's more likely she would have come down with it anyways. She will slip into a coma soon, and I doubt she can hear you even now Herr Ellric. But please, you have a pleasant voice and it is a great improvement on silence. So, keep reading anyways."
And Edward read. He paused only to return to his room to get dressed, eat lunch and walk for an hour. Then he was back to read about Gulliver's adventures in the land of the Houyhnhnms and Yahoos until supper time. He finished the book about eight o'clock that night, closed the cover for the last time and wondered if he should fetch another book and start again.
But he didn't want to get out of the chair and leave Greta's bedside. He set the book on a small oval table next to him, then reached forward and fished Greta's right hand out from under the covers. It was skeletal, the bones and bloodveins protruding through translucent skin, and cold as ice. He let it rest on top of his left hand, and put his automail hand on top.
Her hand lay perfectly still between his, and after a while, he hunched forward so he could rest his elbows on the bed. Sometime between ten o'clock and midnight, Edward fell asleep, crouched half on and half off the chair.
And he dreamed.
They were walking through the woods, but Edward thought they had left the path because he didn't recognize his surroundings. It was fall and colorful leaves fell thickly around them as they walked up a steep hill. Greta was in her nightgown and pale as death, but she was leading him, actually pulling him up the grade.
When they reached the top of the hill, the air all around was bathed in yellow light, while the leaves whirled around them in circles. And the Gate was there as if waiting. Its doors creaked open and the familiar black arms rushed out in a gust of cold air.
Greta turned to Edward and she was healthy again, her skin glowing and pink, her hair soft and shining. She let go of his hand and smiled at him as the black arms wound about her body like lovers.
"Greta! Don't go!" he cried.
"Don't be such a baby, Edward. Say goodbye now and be happy for me because my soul will go to see your world."
And he remembered what his father told him so long ago in London. The souls of those who died in the machine world crossed the gate to power reactions in the alchemic world. Leaves began swirling in the air about them, obscuring Greta and the Gate.
"Goodbye!" he managed to call out before she disappeared behind a curtain of red, gold and brown. When the leaves finally disappeared, the top of the hill was empty. Even the yellow light was gone, replaced by an ordinary vault of blue sky full of fluffy white clouds.
He woke up with a gasp. His hands were still clasped around Greta's and her fingers were twitching. And Edward somehow knew that although she was in a coma, Greta was saying goodbye for good.
He curled the fingers of his left hand and squeezed ever so slightly. "Goodbye, Greta, goodbye,I will miss you - friend." he whispered while a tear ran down one cheek.
Her chest rose three more times, her breath rasping loudly, and after the third exhale Edward held his breath as if in sympathy.
But Greta's chest never rose again.
She was dead.
He puffed out the breath he was holding, dropped his head back down to the bed and burst into tears.
Edward couldn't tell for how long it took before cried himself to sleep because he was back in his own bed when he woke up again. Bright sunlight slanted across his bed, and that told him it was late morning. He had probably missed breakfast, and his stomach rumbled with annoyed agreement.
But the door opened just then and Klaus came in, carrying a covered tray. "Good morning, sleepyhead. You probably don't feel like going to the dining room today, so I brought your breakfast."
Edward sat up and Klaus set the short-legged tray on his lap and removed the cover. Breakfast was eggs and ham, toast and orange juice. Even after last night's events, Edward ate with relish, it was important to fuel his body. After getting dressed, he went outside and walked to the end of the path where he studied Berlin and the road leading to it.
He had a promise to keep.
Greta was buried two days later in the cemetery on the Angelika's grounds. The only mourners were Dr. Stein, Katarina, Klaus and himself, so Edward's sorrow was mixed with anger. Not one member of her family had bothered to come to her wake. Her body was laid out yesterday in a parlor on the first floor and nearly every other resident and employee came to pay their respects. They shuffled by in a ragged line, in slippers, wheelchairs or metal contraptions called "walkers", accompanied by their nurses. Many had red-rimmed eyes and Edward was quite taken aback to see the elderly Herr Braun with hands over his face and crying openly, with tears rolling down between wrinkled fingers.
She was buried in what should have been her wedding gown, a frothy confection of lace and satin,the veil stark against her hair, and a bouquet of yellow hothouse lilies lay in her slack arms. Her stick-thin body swam in so much material, despite the excess being pinned back. A cabinet maker had made her coffin, a high polished box of black walnut accessorized with silver handles and hinges. A shiny brass plaque bolted to the lid gave her name and vital dates. Rumor was Dr. Stein had paid for it out of his own pocket, something that raised him high in Edward's esteem.
Edward expected a hearse to come and collect the body for burial in Berlin, like he'd seen for other residents who died here. But no one came and Katarina told him at the funeral Greta's final wish was to be buried in the pleasant little cemetery. To his further surprise, Katarina also revealed that Greta's hastily written will forbade her family to come to her wake or burial. As a final slap to the family that had rejected her, Greta also ordered the sale of all her clothes and jewelry, with the proceeds to go to the care of indigent patients at the Anelika.
The priest closed his book,tossed a handful of hard, mostly frozen earth into the grave, then he nodded at Edward. As the unofficial chief mourner, he also threw a handful of earth on the coffin and stepped back, alone with his thoughts while the other mourners came forward to pay their final respects. Klaus came over and gently put a hand on one shoulder, "Herr Elric, it is getting colder, will you come inside? The kitchen staff is putting on a small funeral supper."
Edward shook his head. "No, Klaus, I want to be alone for a while." His nurse merely nodded and turned away, eager to get out of the cold. The wind had picked up and snow flurried around as two men in black jackets hurried to fill in the grave. Edward shivered and buttoned his coat up to his chin. He shoved his gloved hands in his pockets and waited patiently until the two sextons finished their work.
They looked over at him, one raised a single eyebrow, as if in a question. Then he shrugged to his fellow when Edward ignored them. They finally walked away, shovels over their shoulders, and Edward could cry without interruption. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and fell, to plop down and vanish into the snow at his feet.
We are just humans. Tiny, insignificant humans, and we couldn't even save one little girl.It seemed a lifetime ago when an angry twelve year old boy shouted those words at his commanding officer.
A lifetime, and a world ago...
He couldn't even save her alter.
The snow began to fall harder when he at last turned away from the grave and retraced his steps to the south terrace. Edward looked at the lights coming from inside that illuminated a the interior. The kitchen staff was setting the table with bowls of steaming hot food. It was warm in there. He had a few friends among the other residents, and Klaus cared about him. Dr. Stein cared about him.
But he couldn't do it. He couldn't go inside, not now.
He had a promise to keep.
Edward spun hard on one heel and walked away from the Angelika, across the lawn and down the path. His strides were sure, although any sound of his feet was muffled by the snow which fell ever more thickly. It whirled about him, hiding him from view by the leaves had obscured Greta.
He skirted the now frozen pond, ignored the tete-a-tete. and kept walking until he came to the end of the path. He paused only briefly before he plunged through the snow down the rise until he came out onto the road. Edward stamped his feet to get the snow off his shoes, but some had gotten inside and his feet were already cold and wet.
He had a promise to keep.
He hunched into his coat and started to walk. At first he kept his hands thrust deep into the coat pockets, but he eventually brought them out and swung his arms after the exercise warmed him up.
He didn't know what he would do when he reached Berlin. Maybe he would find Greta's family first, and tell them off for not bothering even to visit her while she was still alive, and not paying their respects after she was dead. Then he would look up her faithless fiancee next and punch him in the face for being such a jerk. The thought of fisting the man's collar, cocking his arm back, curling the fingers and delivering a hard blow made him giddy with the adrenaline rush.
Edward badly wanted to hit somebody.
Rage and thoughts of revenge warmed him further, despite the thickening snow fall. Walking was becoming more and more difficult, and he was struggling to walk through an ankle deep blanket of white when the big, black car first passed him, then cut him off and forced him to stop.
A back door opened and Klaus got out with a blanket over one arm. "Herr Elric, where are you going?" He threw the blanket over Edward's shoulders. "You are frozen through and through, come now. Get in the car."
Edward first tossed him an evil glare before he growled menacingly, threw off the blanket and twisted out of Klaus's grip.
He had a promise to keep.
Klaus grabbed him and Edward twisted away again. Then Klaus wrapped his arms about him in a very strong grip and Edward went berserk. He screamed "Let go!" and some vivid curse words angrily and struggled to break free. Klaus lifted him off his feet and Edward tried to kick him, but Bruno came from somewhere, and grabbed his legs. He yelled and flailed all the way, but he was dragged into the car and held down.
The door slammed and the driver turned the car back towards the Angelika.
He had a promise to keep!
"Calm down, Herr Elric, calm down!" Klaus soothed, but Edward would not calm down, he continued to struggle. He muttered something to another man who muttered back. Then Klaus unbuttoned Edward's coat and shirt and pulled both down to reveal his left shoulder.
He said softly in a sad voice, "I'm sorry, Herr Elric."
Edward gasped loudly when felt a sharp pain, and he looked in time to see a hypodermic needle sink deep into his left shoulder. Sleep claimed him so swiftly he didn't have time to tell his nurse:
I have a promise to keep!
A/N: So sorry this got so long, but I had a lot to say here and didn't want to divide it into a lot of small chapters. The bulk of this was written while I was worrying about an upcoming mammogram last November. That is why some of it is such a downer. Credit to .com for information on the text of Gulliver's