Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Our Brothers ❯ To Feel ( Chapter 6 )

Our Brothers

By: joyfulmusic

 

I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. None of it… Ain't that just so sad?

Warnings: A few small spoilers. There are some thoughts of suicide, and there will be an eating disorder... or two.

 

Chapter 6: To Feel

 

“Ona, wake up!” I could hear the cheer in Alphonse's voice. “Clemont says it's ready!”

 

I blinked a few times, then looked over at the body. It was standing perfectly still, wearing the same clothes as the day before. Its eyes were looking at nothing. My head turned and I saw the compact was still on the table in front of me.

 

Stretching seemed to do little to ease my tense muscles. Fear was keeping them from relaxing. They ached from being hunched over the desk for so long. I looked at the small clock and found that it was now eight in the morning.

 

“Your final check took two hours?” I managed to come fully awake and stare at Clem who was sitting on the bed looking at his work.

 

His eyes were weary and hair a mess. It looked as though he'd aged ten years over this past week. He'd refused to be pulled away from his masterpiece. It meant so much more than a sculpture by any of the great artists of our world. Not a single statue could compare to a living breathing body which had been engineered and grown so quickly.

 

Clemont had already created the plans. Fear had kept him from trying before now. A complete living organism without a mind of its own could be a dangerous thing. The potential for such a creation would be endless. That was why Clemont had never tried. But now, now there was a boy with a need that his greatest accomplishment could fulfill.

 

“It takes time.” He told me, with exasperation. “Perfection and patience go hand in hand. And this is perfection!” He was motioning to the body.

 

I stood and picked up Al, then paused. “Are you ready?” He had to be willing to do this. I wouldn't force the child into anything he wasn't mentally prepared to handle.

 

“I think so.” Then he hesitated. “It won't hurt, will it?”

 

Turning to Clemont I found him shrugging and shaking his head. Nothing like this had ever been tried before. However the creator had some ideas about some of the less pleasurable outcomes. But he didn't want to speak with Al about them.

 

“We don't know. Do you still want to try?” I couldn't lie to the child; there was a lot a stake. His very existence could be in danger. Yet should it succeed with pain, he would still need to trust me. That is, if we were going to find Edward.

 

“Yes, I have to find brother.” His voice was as strong as his nerves would allow. He was scared but trying to overcome the fear. To me it made him seem older and wiser than his memory should have allowed.

 

I took in a deep breath as I walked toward the body. This is it. It will either work or it won't. Even if it doesn't we'll still find his brother. Then maybe the great Fullmetal Alchemist can at least get the rest of the armor back.

 

As I reached the body my heart stopped. It was looking straight ahead, yet it didn't notice me, didn't move, or raise its head. I could see and hear it breathing, yet that was all. If this went well when the necklace was on, Al would be able to move the body just as he had the armor.

 

I lifted the chain over the boy's head and said a quick prayer. Then slowly, weary of what could happen, I lowered the chain.

 

 

“If it rejects him,” Clemont had told me in private. “It might send an alchemic reaction. That could possibly harm whoever holds the necklace. Are you sure you want to be the one to take that risk?”

 

I had nodded, “I still have to do this. You have children and a wife who need you. I've got no one, so if I'm hurt it won't cause as much of a problem.”

 

He had taken hold of my shoulders. “Ona, we can find another way, perhaps lower it with a machine or something. It would take time but I could make one.”

 

“No.” I shook my head. “It would only scare him. I don't want this to be any more stressful than it already will be. I have to do this. I know you and Lori talked about it, I heard you. You two are wonderful friends and I thank you. But Clem, I want to do this. Alphonse needs me.”

 

 

Now, as I let the chain settle on the boy's shoulders, I could feel an energy pulling at it. There was going to be a reaction. I closed my eyes slowly but quickly opened them again. If this was going to be the end, I wanted to see it.

 

Light filled the room until there was nothing but whiteness all around us. I heard crackling, like the last embers of a dying fire. A gush of wind came from the compact and blew against me. I stood my ground and watched the spot where I had last seen the face of the child.

 

As the wind and light faded a few sparks lingered around myself and the body. I couldn't see the compact itself but the emblem, which was Al, glowed brightly. Then, very slowly, it too faded.

 

 

I watched the small head as it turned up to look at me. The gray eyes blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light. A small hand moved across them, then repositioned itself outward, to be seen by its owner. The hand turned over a few times before the other came up beside it. They turned in slow unison to show the palms, then the backs.

 

The eyes glanced back up into to mine. I watched as the light of life entered them, making them look even more real than before. The child licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. “Ona? Is… is this me?”

 

I'd lost all words. The voice was the same, and now there was a child to go with it. A tear streaked down my face. Then I knelt down before his little body and cleared my own throat. “Yes Al, it's you. How do you feel?”

 

He looked at his hands again. Then slowly he raised one to touch my face. I closed my eyes as he felt over my features, just as a blind child would. He traced my chin and my ears. Then he felt my hair between his fingers. I opened my eyes again and smiled.

 

His face was one of complete concentration as he watched his hands. Then he moved to touch my shirt and feel the fabric. He returned a hand to my face before uttering the words, “I feel.”

 

With that he fell into my arms, hugging me tightly. Tears of joy ran down his pale face. I could feel them on my neck as I rocked him. “Shhh baby, it's ok. It's alright I'm here.”

 

 

I stayed there for a long time until the cold of the floor soaked into my legs. He hugged me tighter as I stood, lifting him into my arms. His body was thin and light though at the same time healthy. I carried him slowly to the bed, careful not to drop him.

 

As I sat down I could see that Clemont was smiling. There were a few tears of joy in his eyes. He rubbed my back then stood and walked toward the stairs. Before he started up he turned back for another look. His grin seemed to grow even larger. Quietly he ascended the stairway.

 

Sitting there I thought back to my own mother. She had held, me even when I had been ten. Anytime I was sick she was there for me. When a boy broke my heart, even at seventeen, she would allow me to lean against her as I cried. It was those arms that kept me sheltered. In mother's arms I was safe, nothing could harm me. Now I felt as though I were in her place.

 

I gently stroked his back. The sobs were gone but I could tell he wasn't asleep. He simply needed to feel someone. To know another person was there to care for him. He'd lost so much in so little time. Now that he needed someone, I'd be there for him.

 

“Ona.” His voice was soft. “Your hair smells good. What is it?”

 

I couldn't suppress the giggle that demanded to break free. “It's watermelon shampoo. I washed my hair yesterday.” Still Al refused to let go. “Everything's working right isn't it? You can hear and see just fine?”

 

He nodded against my shoulder. “And I can taste too.”

 

“What can you taste?” He didn't have anything in his mouth. At least from what I could tell he didn't.

 

“Just my mouth.” He mumbled. “I can taste that it's there.”

 

I paused a moment and paid attention to my own sense of taste. I had brushed my teeth before coming down, but the toothpaste had worn off. Still there was a flavor that was simply my mouth, though I had never noticed it before.

 

He backed up and looked into my eyes. His were the color of the moon on a clear night. “Ona, what do I look like?”

 

A smile crossed my lips. I put a hand in my pocket and pulled out my compact mirror. Opening it I could see just what a mess I looked like. Yet that didn't matter at that instant. So I turned it to Al, who took it after a moment's hesitation.

 

“That's me.” He whispered, as though it were a statement rather than a question. “That's what I looked like before.” Then his eyes moved to meet mine. “But how did he know?”

 

All I could do was shrug. “Who knows, maybe it was just fate.” I moved my hand across his forehead trying to brush a few stray strands from his eyes. They slid back across his face as he looked back into the mirror.

 

Then my gaze fell to the chain around this neck. My eyes grew large as I looked into the compact which hung against the loose tee-shirt. How?