September 3rd, 2012

Morgan clicked through yet another article he didn't really understand, resting his chin in his hand as his dark eyes scanned the screen. It wasn't that he was unintelligent—quite the opposite, which he showed on a regular basis—but his specialty wasn't science. Especially not theoretical, otherworldly, not-even-official-just-speculated-about science. But he couldn't just leave Reid and Ed to do all the research alone, and he figured he understood enough to pick out articles or theories that mentioned the kinds of things they were looking for. Multiverse, alternate dimension, travel through space, paranormal experiences, and so on.

"Morgan."

Morgan glanced up to find Hotch standing by his desk with an eyebrow raised as he smirked at the younger man.

"Aren't you on your lunch break?"

"Yeah?" Morgan frowned.

"Then why is your chicken sandwich sitting there uneaten?"

Morgan turned his head to look at the sandwich he had taken one bite of before getting sucked into the incomprehensible words on his screen. "Uh… I'm on a diet?"

Hotch chuckled but made no comment. "I just spoke with JJ, and she thinks we might have another case we need to be on location for. She and I are going to take a closer look and figure out our next steps, but I want everyone to be ready."

Nodding, Morgan grabbed his sandwich and prepared to take a bite. "I'll see if I can finish the consult on that Tuscaloosa case." He waited until Hotch gave an affirmative nod and walked off to actually start eating his lunch, not wanting to be rude. I wonder if we'll take Ed with us this time. I mean, he's been here almost seven weeks. He knows how to call 911 if he needs, and he can pay for stuff in cash.

Still, Morgan didn't like the thought of Ed being several states away in a world that was completely foreign to him, even if he was starting to understand it. He might have had the basic knowledge necessary to survive, but he didn't have the kind of experience and confidence that would keep him from having anxiety about different situations he was in. Granted, he could call Garcia if it became necessary, but Morgan didn't like the thought of letting the little world-hopper out of his sight.

Yeah, we'll probably take him with us. Morgan grabbed his phone and checked the time, finding he only had four minutes left of his lunch break, and he took another bite. Especially if he gets that pain in his limbs again.

Morgan had been keeping track—even though he knew Hotch already told Ed to do that himself—and it seemed to come every 1-2 weeks. Ed had been in pain when he showed up, July 18th, and then again on August 3rd. Then he had another one with less of a gap on August 10th, and on August 17th, he had lost his gallbladder, meaning the pain medication he was on might have muted or disguised the pain that could have been there. It was now September 3rd, meaning the pain could crop up any day. It probably wasn't a good idea for Ed to be alone and dealing with whatever pain his body was going to put him through.

Honestly, the pain in and of itself was another concern entirely. What was causing it? That first night and the days that followed could be attributed to the trauma of crossing over from another dimension. But why did it keep coming back? Was it some kind of response to being in the wrong world? As if something about the chemical makeup of their dimension was different from Ed's, and the more vulnerable parts of his body were reacting to it? Was it still the trauma, but with a lingering effect that came and went, like a phantom pain one would experience after losing a limb? It didn't seem like actual phantom pain, because Ed didn't say it was in the extremities that were no longer there, but in the parts of his body that remained.

Hmm…

Jumping suddenly, Morgan grabbed his phone and saw he had gone past the end of his lunch break. He muttered a curse and put the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, getting back on his computer to clock in again.

Maybe with Ed keeping that journal, we'll start to notice some patterns.

September 4th, 2012

"Hey."

Ed tore his gaze away from the plane window, not wanting to miss even a moment of the takeoff, and gave a smile to JJ. "Hey."

JJ tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, extending a bundle of wires and a rectangular device. "I got you something. I figured being on the plane with us and trying to focus on your research while we're talking about something totally different is pretty difficult."

"Uh…" Ed took the gift, trying to unwind the wires and finding it split toward the end.

"It's an MP3 player. You can use it to listen to music." JJ reached out and grabbed the round things on the ends of the wires, holding them up. "These are earbuds. You put these in your ears, and then you can hear the music."

Ed blinked, looking at the black rectangle and the wire that was plugged into it. "So, it's almost like a phone wire? Where the sound travels through the wire, and somehow… the rectangle has the music inside?"

"Exactly!" JJ smiled, clasping her hands together in front of herself. "If you try it and you don't like it, that's fine, but I thought it might be good."

Grabbing one of the earbuds, Ed lifted to his ear and gave her another smile. He hadn't grown up with music, but when he started traveling, he heard pianos and stringed instruments from time to time. It wasn't really his thing, but he would have felt rude saying that, so he simply said, "I'll try it. Thanks, JJ."

"I also thought you might like the challenge of figuring out how to operate it. You seem like the kind of kid who enjoys puzzles." JJ opened her mouth to continue, but stopped short when they heard a high-pitched, ringing noise. "Oh, it sounds like we're getting ready to take off. I better sit down." She gave another wave and then moved toward the center of the plane, where the team was gathered, leaving Ed in his chair at the very end.

I could just leave the earbuds in and pretend I'm listening to music. But it would be pretty interesting to figure out how the player worked, and the more he learned about the world he was in, the higher the chance he would be able to recreate some of these unique devices when he got back to his own side of the Gate. Okay, let's see…

Ed pushed the different buttons, periodically looking out the window as they got ready to once again lift an impossibly heavy object into the sky. It was hard to decide which technology was more fascinating, but in the end, he decided that flying was much more impressive than a portable radio. He kept his eyes on the window, watching as the plane left the runway and staring for a little while after. In the back of his mind, he noticed that the earbuds didn't do much to stop outside noise from getting in, and he could hear a few details as the team discussed the case.

We're in the air now. So… He got back to the player—the player of MP3—and started messing with the controls. It took a bit, but he was able to make the little screen light up, and then it was time to explore. He saw an 'albums' option, and he wasn't sure what photo albums would be doing on a device made for music, so he set that one aside for later. He also saw an 'artist' option, meaning it apparently had pictures, too. Maybe music was just one of the things it did, and it was actually a medium for all kinds of creative outlets.

Ed decided he would investigate that later and chose to select the most obvious choice: songs. But it didn't start playing music of any kind. It just showed him a list. Well, that makes sense. Songs have names. Still, as unfamiliar with music as he was, the names seemed kind of strange. I'll just pick one and see what happens.

He could tell one of the songs was selected—it said, '100 Years'—but he wasn't entirely sure how to change the selection, if he even could. He figured it out pretty quickly, but it wasn't like he knew what he was looking for, so he went back to that first song and, with a curious look on his face, hit the button he believed would make the music start.

So, it is piano music. It was nice, though, and it definitely drowned out the sound of the agents talking, so maybe it would make it easier to—

He squinted, surprised when a man started to sing but… not in a way Ed had ever heard. Not that he had ever heard much singing, but he always pictured women in smoky bars and opera performers. What he was hearing was more… casual? Could that even be a way to describe something like music? And as he listened, he started hearing more… instruments, he supposed, because how else would they be making those noises? But they were very rhythmic, almost creating an underlying pattern that the piano music followed.

I wonder if the music in this world has always been this way or if it evolved. I know I'm almost a hundred years in the future, but it's a completely different universe, so I wonder…

Shaking his head, Ed grabbed the book on his lap—the one that had been forgotten in his fascination with the player and the plane's ascension into the sky—and put his eyes on the words. He had to focus. He had to research. He had to get back to Al.

Still… the noise he was hearing was a nice one.

September 5th, 2012

Formula… Truth said I need to get the formula right. But does he mean physical ingredients? Do I need to put something in the middle of the transmutation circle to help me get through the Gate? Or was he talking about the mathematical formula? As in, I just need to keep adjusting the way the matrix is drawn?

Ed put his hands to his face and rubbed, letting out a loud groan. He kicked his legs against the mattress, making more frustrated noises for a couple seconds before he just sprawled himself out on his back on the bed.

I can feel the pain in my stumps coming back. He let out a sigh as tired, golden eyes stared up at the hotel ceiling. I don't understand why I couldn't stay in Quantico. If I were there, I would have a lot more books on hand. He turned his head slightly and looked at the laptop that was plugged into the wall. Garcia had given it to him, claiming it could make research easier, and when he questioned whether the government would notice some of its supplies missing, she had explained it was her personal laptop.

"But… don't you need that?"

"I have what you might call a 'secret stash.' I have laptops for days, Eddie."

"How many do you have?"

"That's the 'secret' part!"

Smiling faintly, Ed pushed himself up, a twinge traveling up the back of his thigh and into his hips. He moved closer to the computer and opened it up, chewing on his lips as he looked at all the different symbols on the 'desktop,' which was a term he didn't understand at all because the screen looked nothing like a desktop.

I think this one is the Google… He put his flesh finger on the touchpad and started moving the mouse—another term that made no sense—across the screen. He opened the internet and pursed his lips, looking at the search bar for several moments before he hesitantly started pecking out different letters.

traveling between worlds

It was incredible just how many results came up in the search, especially given how quickly it gathered them, but they weren't exactly helpful. Lots of books came up, but as Ed started to look at them, he found they were all fiction stories. There were references to games and shows and movies, with people Ed assumed were fans all speculating about how things worked in these different universes.

But none of that was helpful.

Ed winced, the pain in his leg getting worse, and even though he knew it wouldn't help, he crawled off the bed and tried to stretch out the muscles. He bent over in every direction, put his foot on the wall above his head, twisted his back and shoulders… but that steady throb in his limbs didn't decrease even for a moment. Interestingly—and a little frighteningly—there was a mild pain growing in his stomach, too, in the exact same place as the pain from losing his gallbladder.

Ed walked over to the nightstand between the two hotel beds, grabbing the container of pills off the top. He had taken them enough times to know how many capsules he needed and how many hours apart he had to take them, so he took a single dose and hoped it would stop the pain before it could really get started.

I wonder if I should tell someone. He immediately dismissed the thought. He had the journal Hotchner told him to keep, and he didn't want to whine and complain about what his body was putting him through, especially while they were investigating who knew what kind of horrific crimes. It's fine. I'll just make an entry in the journal.

He did that, and then he got back to the computer. He kept searching, trying to find anything that might tell him how to get from one world to another, but any real information seemed to get lost in a flood of random people posting speculation and creative writing.

"Uuuuugh…" Ed fell backwards onto the mattress, groaning long and loud, both from the fatigue in his eyes and the pain in his limbs. "Truth said the protection we used was effective. He couldn't take as much as he wanted because of how we designed the matrix. So, some of what we're finding is accurate. It works. But…" He draped his flesh arm over his eyes, and he started to take a deep breath, but about halfway through, he felt a brief pain in his gut. Great.

He wanted to rest for a bit. Just a nap, just long enough for the pain medication to kick in and hopefully stop the pain in its tracks. He just wanted to close his eyes and breathe and not do anything else. Just for a little while.

I can't. I have to get back to Al.

Ed pushed himself up, feeling another twinge in his shoulder and stomach, but then he hesitated. He remembered what Hotchner had told him about the importance of rest; about how the same amount of research would wind up done in the end, but the quality of that research would depend on how much Ed took care of himself.

Maybe… maybe it's okay… if I just lay down for a bit. He slowly eased himself onto his back, reaching to his left and grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed. It's just… it's just for a little while. He situated the cushion under his head, rolling onto his side and curling up slightly. It's not even like I'm getting under the blanket or taking off my shoes. Golden eyes fluttered and then slowly started to close. It's okay. It's okay if I do this. Nothing bad will happen. It's okay.

And with that thought at the forefront of his mind, he drifted off.

September 5th, 2012

Reid inserted his keycard into the slot and waited for the light to turn green before letting himself into the room. "Hey, Ed." He stopped after a few steps, surprised to find Ed lying down on his bed despite the lights still being on. Mildly concerned, Reid walked over, but Ed didn't look like he had just passed out. He was somewhat curled up on his side, and he had a pillow under his head. Well, that's good.

Reid reached out and grabbed the open but sleeping laptop, closed it, and moved it to the nightstand. He looked at Ed for a few moments, trying to figure out how he might get the blanket on top of him.

"Mmm…" Ed moved in his sleep, face screwing up in pain as his knees drew upward.

Reid glanced at the nightstand again and noticed the painkillers were in a different place, meaning Ed had probably taken some, but Reid didn't know when, meaning he didn't know if they just hadn't kicked in yet, or if they weren't working and Ed was just sleeping through the pain.

Should I wake him up? Reid chewed on his lip for a moment, but before he had a chance to make a decision, Ed let out another pained noise and tried to move again. "Hey, Ed." He didn't want to grab Ed by the shoulder if the limbs were causing pain, so he raised his voice and repeated himself. "Hey, Ed!"

Ed jerked, golden eyes snapping open and finding Reid's face. "Huh?" He tried to push himself up but immediately fell back into the sheets, clutching his automail shoulder with his flesh hand. "Ugh…"

"Painkillers not working?" Reid asked, fingers picking at each other habitually.

Ed shook his head, and even though it must have been painful to move his automail arm, he kept his flesh hand on his shoulder and used his metal hand to press against his stomach. "I think being in another universe is doing something to me. Like… I don't know, maybe stuff affected by the Gate? My limbs and now my gallbladder are things the Gate has taken, and I'm on the wrong side of the Gate, so…?" He grit his teeth, closing his eyes and shifting on the bed.

"We can speculate when you're feeling better." Reid chewed his lip again. "I wonder if Hotch has the medication the hospital prescribed. It's a relatively weak opioid, but it's still an opioid, and that might be enough."

Ed hummed, but he didn't open his eyes or try to speak.

"I'll be right back." Reid rushed out of their hotel room and turned to the left, going past the room where JJ and Emily were staying and knocking on the door to the room shared by Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan. After all, they couldn't be renting four two-bed rooms with FBI funds when there were only supposed to be six people there, so they had to make due.

Morgan answered the door, looking exhausted—which made sense; it was almost midnight—and rubbed his eyes. "What's up, kid?"

"Is Hotch here?" Reid glanced back the way he had come, not exactly comfortable with leaving Ed alone in the state he was in. "Ed's in pain again. I know he didn't take the medication when we found out his gallbladder was missing because he said he could handle it, but I was hoping Hotch filled the prescription anyway?"

"Uh, I think he did." Morgan turned. "Hey, Hotch!"

"Yes?" Hotch asked, and from what Reid could see over Morgan's shoulder, he was digging around in his bag.

"Did you fill Ed's prescription?"

In lieu of a response, Hotch started to dig through another section of his bag. It took a few moments, but he soon withdrew a bottle and tossed it to Morgan, who turned and handed it to Reid.

"There. Hopefully that'll help the kid."

"Thanks!" Reid walked away, hearing Hotch call out a, 'Make sure he puts this in his journal!' to which Reid hollered an 'Okay!' over his shoulder. He hurried down the hall and let himself into their room again, rushing up to the bed. "Hey, Ed, wake up."

Ed moaned. "I'm not asleep." He forced his eyes open and gave Reid a bleary, disoriented look. "What is it?"

"I've got something stronger than Advil." Reid looked around and quickly found a cup of lukewarm water sitting on the nightstand, which he assumed Ed had used to take the ibuprofen earlier. He dumped a single pill into his hand and gave it to Ed, followed by the water, and he watched with a mild case of nerves as Ed forced himself into a sitting position and managed to get the pills down. "Just try and get more rest. Let the medicine kick in, and hopefully it'll help."

Ed groaned, moving toward the head of the bed and reached around blindly. "I gotta…" He continued feel the mattress, barely able to keep his head up. "I was looking on the computer… I was only supposed to rest for a little…"

"Ed." Reid reached out as if to physically grab Ed's arm and stop him from trying to move, but he didn't make contact. "Just get some sleep, okay? You've been doing great. You've been researching non-stop since you tried to open the Gate, but you're in pain now, and you're not going to be able to do what you want in this state. Just take care of yourself and sleep for a while." He chuckled softly. "It's almost midnight, anyway. It's time for bed."

Not really seeming to understand what Reid was saying, Ed continued moving toward the head of the bed. Smiling, Reid started to pull on the bed's comforter, helping Ed get it out from under him. He gently worked Ed's shoes off his feet, trying not to aggravate or move his limbs, especially the automail one.

"I wonder how Al is…" Ed grappled with the blanket Reid had moved, struggling to pull it up and over himself. "He must be so worried. He has no idea where I am, and he needs me to get his body back, and—"

"He's going to be fine, Ed." Reid smiled even though Ed wasn't looking at him. "You know him best. He's strong, right?"

Ed nodded, letting out another pained moan.

"He's made it this far. He has to live without a body, and that's hard, but you've told me before that half the time he's the one picking you up." Reid grabbed the blanket Ed was struggling with and pulled it up to the young blonde's neck. "He's got a strong will to live. Not only that, he's got a strong will to stay positive and never give up hope that things will get better. I don't have to be a profiler to know that means he's going to make it through this, just like you are."

Groaning again, Ed pushed against the mattress and worked himself onto his left side.

"You're going to be reunited, and you're going to get your bodies back, and one day, you're going to look back at everything that happened to you as a memory. Just a learning experience that helped you get where you are."

Ed opened his eyes and gave Reid a very tired, very worn look. "But what if I can't get back to him?"

Reid hesitated briefly, a soft sigh passing his lips. "I know it's… not the outcome we want to think about, but… even if things don't work out, you will both be fine. I promise. I see it all the time, Ed." He sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his hands in his lap. "I work cold cases—you know, cases that haven't been solved for a long time—and sometimes those families… it's like they're still stuck in the day their loved ones were taken. Sometimes, even when the case is solved, you'll see that, but… no matter how the case ends, no matter what the circumstances are, there are families who recover. They rely on something—their faith, their logic, their other family members, their own endurance—and you see them waking up every day and slowly learning how to live again." His mouth pulled up in the corner. "You know yourself, and you know your brother. Even if this story doesn't end the way either of you want, are you both going to learn to live again? Do you have friends and family who will help you through? Are you the kind of people who endure and find happiness no matter what happens to you?"

Ed didn't say anything, but he got a thoughtful look on his face, and after a few moments, he offered a sideways nod.

"It's not easy. It doesn't happen right away. But just because it seems impossible from where you're standing… that doesn't mean it's actually impossible." Reid opened his mouth to continue, but he felt like he was slipping into a lecture, and Ed was barely conscious anyway. "Just go to sleep, Ed."

Ed nodded, closing his eyes as his head lolled to the side.

Reid smiled again and stood up, planning to slip into something more comfortable and go to bed himself. He wanted to get the light off as quickly as possible to help Ed get to sleep, so he quickly started unbuttoning his brown cardigan, walking toward the dresser.

"Reid?"

Reid looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Is that… is that true?" Ed asked, staring at the floppy-haired profiler with eyes that were tired in more ways than one. "That even when the case isn't solved… even when things don't end the way you want… you can still be happy?"

Reid smiled, giving a single nod. "Yeah, Ed. It's true."

Ed looked at him for a long moment, and then he slowly offered another nod and closed his eyes again. Reid watched him for a couple seconds, and then he got back to changing out of his day clothes, trying to take his own words to heart.

What we're trying to do… we might not be able to pull it off. Or, if we can, we might not be able to do it for months… or years. We have to be ready to help Ed recover. He can't just survive here; he has to thrive and build a life and be happy. Reid dropped his cardigan and let out an inaudible sigh. We can get him there.

September 6th, 2012

Ed frowned slightly, and he knew Penelope had warned him about pop-up ads and not following suspicious links, but… whatever he was looking at had the words 'BAU' and 'FBI' in it. He reread the bold part—he didn't know what it was called, but it was the part that he was actually supposed to click to get to the page—and tilted his head slightly.

FBI Called After Third Victim Found

Ed had asked about the case they were working on, and he remembered them saying there had been three victims, but they also said they couldn't really talk about the details. They had said the victims were teenage girls—Ed couldn't help but think of Winry—and he was pretty sure they told him the victims had been strangled.

That sounds like an awful way to go. He hesitated, knowing he was supposed to be working on a way to get home, but then he clicked on the words, pulling up some electronic version of a newspaper. He started to read, gleaning basic information, and then he found another story about one of the earlier victims. Red Dress Killer?

Golden eyes continue to go back and forth across the screen. So, they're always found in red dresses… are they in red dresses when they disappear? Or does he redress them? He opened up a new tab and searched again, this time trying to find out the significance of a red dress. Even in Amestris, he wouldn't have known if the color of a dress meant anything, though he thought maybe black dresses were considered more sophisticated.

Oh, wow. That's… varied. He scrolled through the results. Indigenous women… power and confidence… sexual immorality… fertility… He blinked. Well, I guess I need to learn what indigenous means. He opened another tab—he was getting pretty good at navigating the internet—and started to search but slowed to a stop. I could really go for some music right now.

He knew JJ had given him the device to help him focus while in close quarters with people who were talking, but… he really liked the songs he had been listening to on the flight in. He knew the device was fully charged because he had left it plugged in for a while and then put it in his bag, intending to leave it there until he was on the plane again.

Two minutes later, Ed was lying on his stomach and typing different phrases into the search engine, another song that was completely new to him playing in his ears. He was going to get back to researching the Gate, he just wanted to know a little more about what the BAU was looking into and if there was anything he could do to help.

"Hey, have you thought about the fact that red is the color of blood and associated with blood, but strangling someone is a bloodless death?"

"Wh—Ed?"

"I also found in one of your popular religions, it was forbidden to eat animals that had been strangled because the blood was still in them. So, maybe this guy's focus is blood, even though he's strangling them, which makes it seem like blood is not his goal. But it could be, and he could be trying to accomplish something by keeping all the blood inside them." Ed barely took a breath, golden eyes skimming the information on the screen. "I was thinking about how, when I transmuted Al's soul, I used my blood to draw the seal. Blood and souls are related—at least in my world—so could he be trying to contain their souls somehow? Or preserve them? Maybe if we look into more spiritual aspects, we'll figure out how he's choosing his victims."

Reid was silent for a few moments. "Um… I mean, I love the concept, but… why are you looking up information about the case and not how to get home?"

Ed ground a halt, struggling with his words for a moment. "Uh—"

"I mean—" Reid let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry. That sounded bad. It's totally fine if you're not researching, uh, the stuff all the time."

It took a moment for Ed to realize Reid was trying to censor the concept of alternate dimensions in case someone overheard.

"It's good to give your brain a break. You just surprised me, that's all." He paused and hummed for a moment. "If there is something about their supposed souls he's attracted to, that might explain why they don't share physical characteristics or personality traits. I know for a fact they had different belief systems, but… the concept of a soul stretches across all sorts of religions and beliefs." He paused. "Let me run it past the team and try to scrape together some more ideas. Thanks for the help, Ed!"

Huffing out a laugh, Ed rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know how much of a help I was. I was just throwing ideas around." Ideas he had developed over the past five hours or so, but still, just ideas. "Um, I'll get back to researching the G—"

"Why don't you take a break?"

"No, it's fine. I took a break by looking into the Red Dress Killer." Ed stretched out his legs, feeling a pop in his lower back.

Reid chuckled. "That's not a break."

Ed sighed. "I mean, it's not like I can do anything else." He shifted his phone to his automail hand and stretched his other arm over his head, wondering how long he had been laying in the same position. "I'm stuck in this room."

"Hmm… we've got to find a way to… okay, can you fax that report to us right away? I can give you the number…"

Ed snickered to himself, imagining some law enforcement officer who wasn't on the team walking past. "If I knew what a fax was, I would do that for you."

"Okay, he's gone." Reid laughed, but he sounded like he was trying to hold it in. "I was going to say we need to find a way to get you out of there more often. I mean, if we get you some gloves, no one will know about the automail, and as long as no one finds out you're coming and going from one of the rooms we have booked…"

"That would be nice." Ed reached down and rubbed idly at the place where his gallbladder used to be. It wasn't hurting, he just sometimes found himself touching the spot, like he was checking to see if it was still gone even though he couldn't feel it through his skin anyway. "It'd be better for you guys, too. You won't have to send someone to bring me three meals a day."

"Stay inside for today, but we're gonna figure something out. You've been here almost two months, so you've got a pretty good idea of how to blend in. We should probably keep your transactions cash only, but we can easily find an ATM."

Ed had no idea what an ATM was, but he could infer enough to understand what Reid was saying. "I'll do whatever you want me to do if it means I can get out of this room without people finding out about me."

Reid had a smile in his voice when he responded. "Yeah, I bet you're getting cabin fever."

"What?" Ed tensed. "How do you get sick from staying in a room?"

"No, no, it's just a phrase that means… you know, you're really anxious to get out of a place you've been in for a long time."

Ed squinted at the ceiling. "And you call it cabin fever because…?"

"I… don't actually know."

Ed was weirded out for a second, but then he shrugged, figuring his own universe had sayings that didn't make sense. "Well, whatever it is, I've got it."

"I'm sorry. Just hang in there. Play some Tetris."

Ed sighed. "Yeah, yeah." He rubbed his thigh, right where the automail started. "I'll occupy myself. Thanks, Reid."

"Sure. Gotta get back to the team now. Bye!"

The line went dead, and Ed pulled the phone away from his ear, snapping it shut. He continued to look up at the ceiling, wondering if Al was just as isolated as he was. Was Al somewhere in military headquarters with Mustang? Wrath had gotten rid of the team, but at least Mustang and Hawkeye were still there. Then again, with Father watching their every step, maybe they couldn't afford to look for Ed.

Hmm… Father… He seemed to want Ed alive, so maybe he himself would be looking for Ed. And that would mean the homunculi, too. If they're really as powerful as they seemed, then maybe… but Father failed to create his own Portal, so he has limits…

Ed groaned and pressed his palms against his eyes.

September 8th, 2012

Okay… Ed adjusted the glove on his automail hand, wanting to make sure anything metal was covered. He looked left and right and, with a shrug, decided to go right.

He kept his hands in his pockets, knowing the mere fact he was wearing gloves would probably stick out, but he gave a smirk to everyone he passed. He made eye contact with people, not wanting to seem like he was avoiding anyone. It took a little while, but he found himself at a pizza shop, and with a currency he had come to understand fairly recently, he bought two slices. He got Hawaiian, if only because he had found it hysterical when the team introduced him to pizza and a fight broke out at Rossi's over whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

Snickering to himself, Ed took a bite and continued to look around. He found it so interesting how things were so different and yet the same. Some of the clothes were familiar—suits that looked like the ones men wore back home and miniskirts like Winry wore—but then there were jeans. The blue jeans. Ed had been wearing black ones pretty much the entire time he was in this world, but apparently blue was the norm.

There were cars, but they were different. There was tea, but it was different. So many things that just sounded… off. Like the upcoming '9/11,' which Ed assumed was some kind of holiday.

"Do you guys have gluten-free pizza?"

Ed glanced toward the counter, brow furrowing as the cashier asked if she had an allergy.

"Oh, no, no, it's not celiacs or anything. It's more like lactose intolerance. I can have a little, but it makes me sick if I have too much."

Increasingly curious, Ed watched the dark-haired teenager from behind, and after she got her food and started walking past him, he decided it wouldn't be dangerous to get her attention.

"Excuse me," Ed started, lifting his hand slightly.

"Hmm?" She stopped, turning toward him. "Did you say something?"

"Yes." Ed flashed a smile. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was wondering what you meant when you said you need gluten-free food." He paused briefly, wondering if this gluten intolerance was something well-known. "I'm, uh, a foreigner, and I've just never heard of it before."

She smiled kindly. "Oh, sure! It basically just means… there's something in gluten, which is in a lot of bread-like products, that reacts with the chemicals in my body, and it makes me sick." She shrugged. "It's like I said to the cashier. It's not really an allergy—those can put you in the hospital or kill you, sometimes from a really small amount of the allergen—but it's not exactly fun for me when I have too much gluten."

Squinting slightly, Ed nodded. "Interesting…" He started to drift down into his thoughts, but quickly pulled himself back up. "Thank you. I was just curious."

"Sure! Have a good one!" She gave a quick wave and walked away, finding a small table by the storefront window.

Ed's gaze drifted back to his food, and he slowly lifted his pizza to his mouth, his brain already running through the scientific implications of what he had just learned. I've only ever heard of an allergy as in… hay fever. But if a substance can influence a body enough to hospitalize or kill them, even though it's not a poison or something that affects everyone the same way, then… could it help protect me and get me through the Gate? Maybe this universe has substances or chemicals that can interact with my body in a way that makes it more durable, or even in a way that makes it worth more in the world of Equivalent Exchange, meaning Truth wouldn't be able to take as much from me.

He continued to chew, staring at the street through the window but not really seeing it. But that isn't going to help me actually get all the way through the Gate. It might keep me safe from certain things, but it's not going to get Truth to give me access to my world. He said my formula wasn't right. He twisted his lips, contemplating, and he took another bite. But it's another step in the right direction. It's a new lead to follow. That'll have to be enough.

Ed grinned.

Bingo.

Author's Note: Ugh, just burn this whole thing. I'm not happy. Also, just a head up, my book is being published on 09/15/2024, so my updates are going to become less frequent as I spend more time getting my book ready. I'm gonna shoot for every other Wednesday, but as always, I recommend following my tumblr to keep up with the things I'm working on.

I am still looking for ARC readers for Cataclysm (basically meaning you read the book for free and leave an honest review for it), and if you're interested, please let me know and I can help you download the book from BookSirens. Thank you!