CHAPTER WARNING: Emotional distress, mild violence and some crude language.
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Amestris, Continental Calendar, July 11, 1919 — Early Evening
Pitt was the type of man who was passionate about life. People usually couldn't see this—not that he cared. He's lived life the way it suited him best. His display of emotions was highly calculated. Open emotions never amounted to anything good: friends end up backstabbing; love interests could tear your heart into little pieces. He knew both well. He also knew that the nature of these trivialities was complicated and often contradictory. Succumbing to these petty emotions was what persuade him to hear Russell's plea.
Pitt adjusted his glasses. If it wasn't because he was actually seeing the doppelgänger with his own eyes, he would've not believed his estranged friend. Pitt adjusted his glasses again. The woman with the serene expression scared him; a part of him wished he'd crushed Russell's foot when he had the chance. Pitt shifted his attention from the doppelgänger to Russell, who was standing next to the man with the eyepatch. "I thought you were bullshitting me," he said then turned his gaze back to Wendy. "Look-alikes and parallel worlds...imagine that..." he added, his voice trailing off.
"You have to tell him everything?" Roy scoffed.
Russell's eye's narrowed a fraction. "I had to, sir." Seconds later, he added. "Don't let his size deceive you. There's a colossal asshole packed inside that little body of his."
Pitt wondered if those two morons knew he could hear them talking. He sucked in a calming breath.
"How grand..." Roy mused.
There was pause followed by a deep chuckle.
Pitt gritted his teeth. Was this how those two bozos going to treat him?—with vicious mockery? He turned around so fast that he almost got whiplash. "SCREW YOU! I'M NOT LITTLE!"
Roy and Russell offered him a wide-eyed stare in return. Then, both men exploded into a laughing fit that lasted a few long of minutes.
"Thank you for the trip across memory lane," Roy said as he wiped what was obviously a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye.
Pitt couldn't be any more confused. He turned to Russell. "What the fuck is he going about?"
"My guess is that you reminded him of your pal Edward," he shrugged.
"They were friends?" Roy intruded, his good eye wide and sparkling with amusement.
"More like best friends," Russell responded.
"THAT LITTLE ASSHAT HAS NEVER BEEN MY FRIEND!" Pitt roared.
"Uncanny..." Roy chuckled.
Pitt shot Roy a menacing glare. "What was that?" He growled. "I dare you to say that to my face again, asshole!"
"Calm down, Pitt. Don't forget he's a high-ranking military officer," Russell warned.
Hearing Russell's malarkey was almost the same as hearing fingernails scraping against a chalkboard. "That pirate can kiss my hairy—" he started but Russell cut him off.
"Sheesh! will you shut up already?" Russell said as he shook his head. "I only brought it up because Edward was his subordinate."
Pitt's overall mood improved instantly. "Oh, that is rich!" he hollered at first, but then paused to choose his next words carefully. There was no way he would let a golden opportunity go to waste. Finally, he said, "Let me get this straight, not only are you playing second fiddle to Winry, but you're also playing second fiddle to this man?"
The poison he administered had a quick effect on Russell. The blond's face turned a vibrant shade of red, and his gray eyes flashed with indignation.
Things didn't go as Pitt planned. Russell moved in fast, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Pitt faltered for a second as he'd been caught by surprise. He quickly went on the offensive. Pitt balled his right hand into a tight fist and swung upward. The punch connected, his fist packed a powerful strike against the blond's jaw. Russell staggered backward, his grip on Pitt's shirt slipped off. Pitt smiled triumphantly. He'd been wanting to punch that prick for a long time.
Russell rubbed his jaw, then a look of murderous intent crossed his face. He rushed towards Pitt and punched him in the face. Pitt staggered but quickly recovered. He lunged himself at Russell. Their fight had been long overdue.
Pitt always knew, way before he had an interest in plants, that an excellent herbalist needed to possess three core skills: intelligence, a keen eye for detail, and sharp instincts. He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, but when he heard the sound of fingers snapping together, his reflexes went into high gear. Everyone who'd lived in East Amestris had heard at one point or other stories about the Flame Alchemist. Roy Mustang's alchemy was activated by the sparks created from his ignition gloves whenever he snapped his fingers. The adrenaline pumping through Pitt's veins helped him evade the ball of fire hurling their way. The tail of heat that rushed past him and Russell was incentive enough to stop the brawl. He patted his face, hair, and clothes. After making sure that no parts of his bodies had caught fire, Pitt looked up at his contender. Russell looked as if he'd seen death itself. At least he didn't appear to have been burned. Good. He then turned his attention to the arsonist.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Pitt spat in utter disbelief. "You almost burnt my eyebrows off!"
Roy tapped his eyepatch, and said, "My apologies. No depth perception."
The lack of remorse in Roy's voice left Pitt speechless.
"Mr. Renbak, can you make the drug?" Roy pressed.
Pitt blinked multiple times as he regained his composure. Finally, he fixed his gaze on Roy and Russell, who were arguing at the moment. Just looking at those two made his blood boil. A thought occurred to him as his face twisted into a scowl: he didn't have to do jack squat for those two. He could simply walk away and leave the arsonist and his stooge to their own devices. He already could tell that nothing good would come out of doing business with those two. Pitt was ready to turn around and get the hell out of that house when the wind rustled the curtains. His eyes followed the movement, but they quite didn't reach the intended target. Pitt's gaze fell upon Wendy; his scowl softened. The older woman couldn't help but remind him of Winry—of the current situation. He gave out a soft sigh. Winry Rockbell would never be his to love, but she would always be his good friend. And he never abandons his friends. Pitt shifted his gaze from Wendy and turned it to Russell and his Roy. Those two bozos believe I can help Winry... His eyes narrowed. "Of course I can make the damn drug," Pitt responded. His gaze shifted slightly to Russell. "I promised First Loser(1) that I was going to help out." He paused a beat. "The drug will be ready in three days."
Roy let out a soft sigh of relief. "That's good to hear."
Pitt thought it was strange for a military officer to react in such a manner. He shrugged his shoulders. The Brigadier General was probably a weirdo; the man did try to set him on fire, after all.
"How will you be administering the drug? I need to know because that will establish the form it'll take," Pitt asked, focusing on the request.
Roy crossed his arms; his brow dipped. Pitt noticed he was engaged in deep thought. The man's silence wasn't a good signal; Pitt was now sure the drug was meant to be used on someone who was hard to catch off guard.
"Can you make it odorless and tasteless?" Roy finally said.
"Yes, in powder form I can," Pitt replied. He adjusted his glasses, then asked, "Are you planning on spiking a drink?"
Roy nodded. "That's the plan."
Russell jumped into the conversation. "But Cid will recognize us!"
Roy's good eye narrowed a fraction. "That goes without saying, Major," he concurred.
The sarcasm in the Brigadier General's voice put a smile on Pitt's face. But that smile quickly faded after listening to Roy's follow up.
"He 'll recognize us, but he won't recognize Mr. Renbak," Roy said.
Pitt had to stop the arsonist before he got even more creative. "That's a fucking 'NO' to you, my dear General," he spat sarcastically. "I'm willing to make the drug, but there's no way in hell that I'll administer it."
"Pitt, I thought you were supposed to be a hardcore son-of-a-gun, like the ones that made bad guys pee in their pants and cry for their mommies," Russell scoffed.
Pitt wondered if Russell was begging to have his teeth punched in. The proposition was tempting, and he would've jumped to the occasion, but the Flame Alchemist was present. And he was sure that this time the man wasn't going to miss his mark. Pitt had no other choice but to calm down. He sucked a breath through clenched teeth and let the air out slowly. Then, he said, "When I took my oath, I swore to help people, not hurt them. Moron."
Russell rolled his eyes; groaned. "You're going to be helping people! You will be helping Winry and—"
Pitt was balling his hands into fits when Roy Mustang put a hand on Russell's shoulder.
"We understand, Pitt," he said.
It was clear that Russell didn't feel the same way as his Commanding Officer. He was about to voice his complaint, but Roy's hard look told him to stand down. Begrudgingly, he did.
Roy turned his attention to Pitt. "I have a plan," Roy said, then a mischievous, lopsided grin spread across his face.
Pitt believed the man, he just didn't know what to make of that grin of his.
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Earth, January 31, 1940 A.D — Morning
"Rise and shine, Miss Winry."
The voice was a distant echo at first, then it became crystal clear in Winry's head. The fired-up neurons in her brain worked fast to decode who this voice belonged to. It was Nurse Williams. Winry blinked her eyes open. She felt movement to the right side of the room, by the window. Her pupils contracted with the sudden flood of light. Winry groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut. Nurse Williams liked to warn her about drawing the curtains open; today had been a different story.
"Good morning, Angela," Winry replied, measuring the inflections in her voice as to conceal her displeasure. She sat up in bed, resting her back against the headboard. The room didn't spin this time and her arms didn't shake as she pulled herself up; a proud smile appeared on her lips. Progress. Three days ago she came close to passing out while trying to do the same exact thing.
Nurse Williams had moved in front of the coffee table. She was leaning over, pouring some tea in a lavish cup. Winry studied the pattern painted on the cup and saucer. Another beautiful piece...another foreign piece. Foreign articles, foreign accents, foreign everything; it had been that way since the day she woke up. Nurse Williams picked up the saucer holding the cup with both hands. "This tea is a tad bit stronger than the ones you've had," she said as she approached the bed. She handed the tea to Winry. "The doctor thinks you're ready for this."
Winry offered a smile while she took the saucer in her hands. She looked at the cup and the reddish brew inside. She savored the fragrant aroma before bringing the cup to her lips. The warm tea washed down her worries, if only for a brief moment; the citrusy scent finished awakening her senses. "This is delicious," Winry breathed, delighted.
"Earl Grey, brewed the right way, if I say so myself," Nurse Williams said with pride in her voice.
Earl gray... Winry's mood dimmed, like the color. She rested the cup on the saucer; the clicking between the two pieces helped her refocus. Winry looked up and settled her gaze on Nurse Williams. "Angela?" She began but stopped. Asking questions was risky, given the circumstances she was in, but the same could be said about remaining in the dark.
"Yes, dear?"
Winry blinked. When she looked at Nurse Williams, she noticed the woman was still holding up a smile, though it wasn't genuine anymore. Winry drew in a slow breath. "This tea is red..." she mentioned but paused again to consider her approach. A few seconds after, she said, "why is it called earl gray?"
Angela's fake smile grew wider. "Oh, Miss, are you trying to pull my chain again?" she hollered in such way that it drew a nervous laugh out of Winry. The reaction, in turn, made Angela mumble a dry, "you're not."
"Well, you, more than anyone else in this house should know the answer to that," Nurse Williams said. When Winry didn't answer the question, she hinted, "It's a popular tea in your home country."
More nervous laughter bubbled in Winry's throat. Russell had told her numerous times how he loved her candor, but in reality, honest people sucked at bluffing and lying. Winry chanced a glance at the nurse and noticed signs of deep worry etched in the woman's forehead. Damn. Winry reminded herself that no matter how dire things got for her in that foreign place, she would pry any kind of information out of everyone she came in contact with. Winry drew a deep breath to calm her nerves. "You mean Amestris?" she replied with a question of her own and chased it down with a hearty chortle.
It took one blank stare and a couple of beats for Nurse Williams to crack up with laughter. But her laughter fizzled out faster than sodium bicarbonate poured into water. Her face sobered. "England, silly girl," Nurse Williams said.
Another moment of silence passed between them; then Nurse Williams spoke. "Drink your tea now, dear. Nurse McCarty will bring your breakfast at nine o'clock," she said in a clipped tone. She headed for the door, stopping in front of it. She looked over her shoulder. "Dr. Marcus will come over at eleven to evaluate your progress." With that said, she opened the door and stepped out of the room.
Winry let out an exhausted sigh soon after the door shut close. She stared blankly into space and remained like that for a few minutes.
"England?" she mumbled, her brows furrowing. There was no place in Amestris called England, or in the rest of the world, for that matter.
The wind howled, and her gaze shifted toward the window.
The sky was covered with a thick blanket of clouds, the kind that carried snow. The last time she looked up at the sky, the sun was bright and hot, and the cloudless sky wore a stunning shade of blue. And Russell stood by her side, his strong hand entwined with hers, his gentle touch speaking of love.
"Oh, Russell..." Her stomach suddenly knotted with fear and frustration. What am I going to do?
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Late Morning
"Miss Winry, I going to flash a light directly into your eyes," Doctor Marcus said.
Winry held his gaze for a few seconds while considering the purpose of the request; then she nodded. She didn't have to do this since the procedure was one she knew well: a flashlight shined to her eyes to make sure her pupils contracted as they should, a reflex test to measure her motor skills; then a strength test at the end. Nothing about this type of procedure affected Winry in a negative way, she too has performed such tests on her pre-op patients. It was the frequency of these tests what she kept an eye on. In the beginning, Doctor Marcus stopped twice a day to check up on her. These numbers reduced drastically as the days progressed. Nowadays, the doctor stopped by every three days; and today's visit broke that pattern.
Doctor Marcus offered Winry a gentle smile. "Please cover your left eye."
Winry did as told. The sudden intrusion of light in her pupil bothered her a little though much less than when Nurse Williams drew open the curtains earlier.
Doctor Marcus hummed to himself (an amusing quirk Winry had seen in every person who've taken medicine as their profession) as he studied her reaction.
"Good," he said, mostly to himself. "Now please cover your right eye," he added.
Winry switched hands. Again, the doctor lost himself in his humming. She took the opportunity to ask, "How am I doing?"
Doctor Marcus lowered his flashlight. He smacked his lips together as people of his age frequently do, then said, "Well, Miss Winry, for someone who'd been in a coma lasting fifteen days, I say you're doing great—better than anyone I've known, that's for sure." A thin layer of detachment glazing his eyes told Winry the doctor had been speaking to himself rather than speaking to her. Doctor Marcus stood up to put away his tools. He didn't speak or glance at Winry as he tidied his leather bag. He only returned his attention to her after fastening the buckles on the side of the bag.
"Your reflexes are good and you've regained some muscle," he said, his usual smile made its way to his thin lips. "It looks like you'll be able to walk with a cane soon."
Winry held her breath. So this was the reason why the doctor came to see her today... "I'll be able to go home," she exhaled.
"I sure hope so, dear," Doctor Marcus replied in turn.
The doctor's words reminded what she was: a captive. She frowned; bit her lip, like a petulant child.
"I can't make that decision, Miss Winry," the doctor reproached.
Winry glared at him. "Then who?" she snapped.
Doctor Marcus frowned. A beat later, he said, "Master Von Elric decides when you can leave this place."
Winry's eyes rounded, her breath froze in her chest. "Von Elric?" she breathed.
"Yes, 'Von Elric'", Doctor Marcus repeated while he picked up his bag, "And you're ready to meet him, my dear."
Winry returned her gaze to the doctor. Her shock must've been quite obvious because Doctor offered her a tight smile in turn.
"I'm heading out now, Miss Winry," he said. "I will tell Him about your progress." A pause. "He'll probably want to see you this evening." Doctor Marcus patted her right knee, offered her another smile before leaving the room.
The door shut close, and Winry was left in the company of her racing thoughts.
"Von...Elric?" Winry whispered, unwilling to accept what she heard. But why use that surname? She chuckled darkly. Her captors might've gotten the name wrong (maybe it had been done on purpose) but they had been correct where it counted. They were informed of her relationship with the Elrics.
Warmth seeped from her body. Winry laid down on the bed and pulled the blanket to her chin, turned on her right side and curled up into a ball. It was all she could do in her current physical state. Tears threatened to come out so she scrunched her eyes close. Her chest tightened. Breathe, Winry told herself. She needed to remain calm if she wanted to make it out of that place. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Thankfully, the breathing exercise centered her.
Winry opened her eyes, sat on the bed. Now that her mind was at ease, she concentrated on what the doctor told her before leaving. With what little information Doctor Marcus offered, Winry concluded that the man going by the name of Von Elric took custody of her wellbeing for a little over two weeks. And this man likes people to revere him as the Master of the House— Winry paused; a smile crossed her lips. "Master of the House...honestly, who calls himself that?" She cracked in a fit of laughter.
"Master Von Elric," she mumbled once she calmed. Winry rested her back on the headboard, imagined how this man looked. Her captor was probably an old, grumpy man; at worst, a despot. But... Why couldn't she shake off the feeling that this person was— Ed. Winry pulled her knees close to her chest, rested her chin on them. She frowned. Thinking about Edward never failed to tear open old wounds.
Winry breathed a deep sigh. Russell had mentioned numerous times how she hadn't been able to overcome his loss. And he was correct. With Granny, she had a chance to say goodbye before she passed on, but with Edward (Alphonse included) she had to resign to watching them leave for another world. There had been no goodbyes, only a "thank you" for her years of service as an automail mechanic. A sad smile crossed her lips when she remembered how Edward kept to himself while she worked on replacing his automail during the battle of Underground City. Intended or not, his gaze told her how happy he was to have seen her. But his loving expression changed to sorrow the moment she finished installing his automail. Even to this day, she hated Edward's contrite look as it was the last memory she had of the boy she loved ever since she could remember. The sadness in his eyes told her how sorry he was for—
A masculine voice resounded in her head. I'm sorry... it said.
Winry whipped her head up; her breath hitched. Those words, the heartbreak resonating in the voice; these things were what propelled her consciousness to escape the darkness in which it had been enshrouded. Winry's mind raced to the moment she'd woke up from her coma. The memory was a blur yet she knew she hadn't been alone in the room the moment she woke up. She was sure there had been a man with long, golden hair sitting beside her, not only that, but this man had a familiar air to him. This man looked like—
"Ed?" No— Winry's mouth dropped open and she covered it with her hands. Calm down, Winry, she told herself. She even took slow breaths and fought against the subsequent flux of memories creating havoc in her mind. Don't be stupid. Edward is gone, and will never come back, she reminded herself. These people are playing mind games with you! Winry covered her ears, squeezed her eyes shut. The anxiety she'd conquered broke loose. A panic attack was imminent if she couldn't find a distraction. Winry opened her eyes and looked around for something to occupy her mind. Her eyes landed on a leather-bound book resting on the nightstand. She leaned over and picked it up. Journey to the Center of the Earth, by Jules Verne, it read. Winry took a slow shaky breath. She opened the book to Chapter 1 and began reading(2).
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Late Afternoon
"I'm back as promised."
Winry jumped thinking it had been Master Von Elric the one announcing his entrance to the room. She put the book on her lap and offered Doctor Marcus a tense smile the moment he entered.
"Master Von Elric requested one more checkup," Doctor Marcus said as he placed his leather bag on the nightstand.
Winry's breath caught in her throat. The doctor hadn't been lying, she really was going to meet this "mysterious man". Her gaze shifted from the doctor to the door. Was Master Von Elric standing on the other side?
"You look nervous, my dear," Doctor Marcus chuckled. Winry returned her attention back to him. "He won't bite," Doctor Marcus added when their gazes met. Winry felt her cheeks heat with mortification, a reaction that sadly earned another chuckle.
Doctor Marcus approached Winry; she took a quick glance at the stethoscope hanging from his neck. "Your breathing is normal and those ruddy cheeks tell me your heart is beating strong," he said with a knowing smile.
Winry felt her cheeks get hotter.
"But more importantly..." Doctor Marcus fished out his flashlight from his white coat. "I want to make sure your pupils are working normally."
Winry didn't reply but did grant him a flat stare.
Doctor Marcus smiled. He turned the flashlight on and proceeded to check Winry's pupils, all while he hummed.
Winry detached herself from the procedure but her attention returned the second she stopped hearing the doctor's voice. She looked above the light beam and into Doctor Marcus' brown eyes; waited for him to say something.
"You're reading Jules Verne?" he mentioned. Then, after a small pause, he added, "I believe this is his brother's favorite book."
Winry's eyes widened upon hearing the comment. How strange...and disconcerting. She was about to ask him more about this person but Doctor Marcus beat her to it.
"Yes, Master Von Elric has a brother, a younger brother."
Winry's breath hitched. A younger brother! She didn't like where this was going.
"You will be meeting them both right after I finish here."
Winry snapped her attention back to the doctor. Her distress must've been quite evident because Doctor Marcus offered her a sympathetic smile in turn.
"Everything's going to be alright, my dear," he reassured her. He even went as far as to give her a pat on her shoulder.
"Well, my job is done. I'm off to the Master's study," Doctor Marcus said while he returned his tools to his bag. He picked up the bag and offered Winry another smile before leaving the room.
The door click close. Winry let out the breath she'd been holding in her chest.
"Von Elric has a younger brother?" she repeated, her brows furrowing. What in the world is going on? Her body began trembling with apprehension as troubling thoughts raced in her mind.
Sounds coming from the door broke through her thoughts. Winry followed the sound to the door. They're already here? She must've lost track of time.
The door creaked open. A tall man walked inside the room; a shorter one followed closely behind.
Winry's stomach gave a little jolt when she saw a familiar face. "It can't be..." she breathed in disbelief. Suddenly, the book on her lap felt heavy as the hidden message contained within dawned on her. If she was Axel Lidenbrock then Uncle Otto(3) was—
"Alphonse!"
Alphonse who was looking a bit spooked offered her the brightest of smiles. "Hi, Winry," he cried.
Winry's eyes welled up. An awkward laugh bubbled in her throat, then, without notice, she started to sob in huge, hiccupping breaths.
Alphonse rushed to her side, sat beside her. "Winry, please don't cry," he said as he wrapped his arms around her shaky frame.
Winry wrapped her arms around him too. She dug her face into his neck and inhaled his scent. It was him, it was Alphonse, there was no mistaking it. His warm embrace erased the worry that had been weighing down her heart since she woke up in that strange world. Then, the image of the golden-haired man waded its way to the front of her mind. Ed. She looked up, found Edward standing by the window. The light bouncing off his braided hair gave him an ethereal look. Why was his back turned to her?
"Ed—" Edward's shoulders tensed, still, he didn't turn around.
Winry's hands slipped off Alphonse.
Alphonse leaned back, put his hands on her shoulders. "Winry?"
Winry didn't want to look at him in the face, she didn't want to break down crying. But Alphonse's sodden silence made her look.
Alphonse was looking at Edward. His lips were pressed in a hard line. Alphonse's hard expression brought something else to Winry's attention. She realized that his round, boyish contours were gone. They had been replaced by strong, chiseled angles. He also had expression marks branching out from the corners of his eyes. And his voice was that of a grown man. She pushed away from him, leaned against the headboard. The book slid off her lap.
Alphonse returned his attention to Winry. "What's wrong?"
Winry locked eyes with him for a few seconds. The face staring back at her belonged to a man in his twenties. Winry turned her attention towards Edward. He still hadn't had the decency to turn around but she could still make out that he too looked older.
Edward must've felt her eyes on him because he looked over his shoulder. Winry wasn't expecting to see facial hair.
"How is it possible?" she mumbled to herself in disbelief.
Winry returned her attention to Alphonse, and said, "You're old." Then, she turned to Edward, and added, "You both are."
"That, we are," Alphonse joked poignantly.
Edward finally turned around.
Winry's stomach jolted, not because of happiness like earlier, but because of shock. Edward's cold stare was unsettling.
"You crossed over, Winry. You're on Earth," Edward said.
No "hello", no "I can't believe you're here", no "I missed you". Winry cast her gaze down. Her eyes found their way back to Jules Verne novel. Journey to the Center of the Earth, she read. "Earth, huh?" she snorted sarcastically.
The brothers didn't say anything about her comment. They've fallen silent, so did she.
But questions quickly arose in Winry's mind, questions that no doubt had crossed the brothers' mind also. She raised her gaze to Edward, who turned his away almost instantly. It became painfully evident that Edward wasn't happy to see her.
The moment would come when she would ask what was wrong with him in private. For now, she swallowed her hurt pride.
"Did you guys fail to close this side of the gate?" she asked, picking up where Edward left off.
The question, at least, piqued Edward's interest.
"I take it the Bastard didn't fuck up," he scoffed.
Winry balled her hands into fists. "Of course he didn't! Why would you even think that?" she snapped back, Edward's boorish ways were doing wonders for her mood.
Alphonse flashed a warning glare at his brother. "It looks like you crossed over through other means," he said to Winry when he returned his attention back to her.
Edward crossed his arms; snorted. A beat later, he said, "You switched places with a person belonging to this world."
His harsh tone earned him another glare from Alphonse. Not that it mattered; Edward continued speaking.
"On July 8, 1940, Wendy Ann Rockwell engaged in a top-secret experiment in which Earth's ley lines were used as a means of instant transportation between two points. The method is known in quantum physics as zero-point convergence."
For the first time since entering the room, Edward got closer. He stood next to Alphonse; crossed his arms over his chest.
At that short distance, Winry could see something dark lurking behind his golden eyes.
Alphonse saw it too, because he said, "Now is not the time."
Edward ignored him. He fixed his glacial gaze on Winry before continuing.
"We thought something went wrong with Dee's calculations but we were wrong. The experiment reached zero-point convergence though it bypassed the ley lines."
Alphonse stood up. He tried to grab Edward by the arm in what looked like an attempt to shush him but Edward pushed him off.
"Don't," he warned. Alphonse backed up, and he returned his attention to Winry. "Zero-point convergence happened between Earth and Amestris." He paused. "Between you and Wendy." Paused again. A moment later, he added, "Why you two switched is still a mystery to all of us."
Edward's sorrowful expression touched Winry's soul; left her momentarily at a loss for words. She drew a slow, even breath, then said, "Why me? Out of millions of people living in Amestris and in this world...why me?"
Alphonse was about to answer the question but Edward obstructed the effort.
"Earth and Amestris are twin sisters. Both worlds possess nearly identical counterparts, be it organic or inorganic."
A frowning Alphonse fought for control of the conversation. "We all have a double, a person that resembles you."
"Back off, Al," Edward cut him off.
Winry's brow tensed. The Edward and Alphonse she remembered bickered every now and then, but there was something sinister about this particular squabble.
"Please don't do anything stupid!" Alphonse pleaded.
Winry couldn't help but notice fear behind his eyes.
"It has to be done!" Edward hissed at him. He went around Alphonse and stood before Winry. While he dug his left hand in his jacket, he said, "Wendy Ann Rockwell, my wife, is your counterpart on Earth."
Winry watched in slow motion as Edward took out a small picture frame from the jacket. Alphonse was yelling something but the buzzing in her ears muffled what he'd said. Edward placed the picture frame—right side up—over Jules Verne novel. Winry looked down. Her eyes grew impossibly wide; felt a wave of nausea rising in her stomach. The woman in the picture was a spitting image of her. This Wendy—Dee, Edward called her Dee—looked gorgeous in her wedding dress. And she looked happy, so did Edward. Winry's vision blurred. Suddenly, the Brigadier General's voice echoed in her mind. "Tell her thanks, she always made the best..."
Winry tried to scream at Edward, call him out for the bastard that he is, for hurting her in the cruelest of ways, but she couldn't see him anymore. She blinked and tried again. The room started spinning. Winry tried to tell Alphonse what was happening but her mouth wasn't moving. Bright spots of light crossed her vision. Then, nothing.
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A/N 1: This chapter...GOD, THIS CHAPTER! It took me 4 months to rewrite...good news is that the entire thing is pretty much new. I wanted to make justice to all characters, especially Winry's, which you'll see her grow in this story. And Ed...please remember this is 2003/CoS Ed. Manga/Brotherhood Ed would kick his ass in an instant for treating Winry so horribly. But 2003/CoS Ed has his reasons. 2003/CoS Ed is a sad human being. For those new to my writing, just you know that I like to write morally gray characters. More to come. ;)
Visit my Tumblr page: hirstories dot tumblr dot com for story-related artwork and other stories.
Thank you for reading!
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References
(1) A sports adage for when a person arrived in second place.
(2) A passage from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: CHAPTER 1: MY UNCLE MAKES A GREAT DISCOVERY. Looking back to all that has occurred to me since that eventful day, I am scarcely able to believe in the reality of my adventures. They were truly so wonderful that even now I am bewildered when I think of them. This is sort of the building blocks for Winry's time on Earth. I will make other references to pop culture history in future chapters.
(3) Axel Lidenbrock is the main character in Journey to the Center of the Earth. His character was hesitant about joining the expedition into a new world. Uncle Otto is another main character in the book, and he's the one who pushed Axel to embark on the hero's journey.