Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Our Brothers ❯ Abandoned Hope ( Chapter 10 )

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 10: Abandoned Hope

 

I spent the next three months making calls to try and locate the elusive Fullmetal Alchemist. Most assumed he was dead or had changed his name. No one seemed to know how much truth the stories held.

 

 

Alphonse sat on the floor watching me closely. “Ona, do you think maybe something happened to brother? Maybe he's hurt or something.” He was becoming very worried by the end of the third month.

 

“No I don't.” I was sitting on the couch thumbing through the list of phone numbers I'd written down. “He's out there somewhere. Maybe he just wanted some time alone. Or decided to start a new life, away from the publicity.”

 

“New life?” The child hung his head, an exasperated huff slipped through his lips. “Then maybe he won't want to see me.” He looked like a sad puppy who'd been corrected for doing something wrong.

 

Closing the book, I reached down and took his small hand in mine. “He'll want to see you. You're his little brother.” I smiled down at him, praying he would hear me and believe it.

 

“But sis…” He'd started calling me that sometimes. “You could be wrong. I mean… maybe he's married and has kids now. He won't want me.” Tears hung in the edges of his grey eyes.

 

My hand squeezed his tightly. “He will, you'll see.” Just then I heard postman stop by the mailbox. I stood and stretched a little then yawned. It was still too early in my opinion. “It'll be alright. Just try not to worry about it.”

 

I opened the door and strolled out across the path. It was getting cooler and soon I'd have to buy Al some sweaters. He had an old jacket Emery had worn, but he'd need more before too long.

 

Opening the mailbox I found a single small envelope. There was no return address, which made me wonder at it. Carefully I opened the seam then pulled out a small piece of paper with a short note written on it:

 

`You'll find him at the abandoned warehouse in town.'

 

I turned over the paper but there was no watermark. No clue as to who had sent it. But I knew exactly who it had reference to.

 

My heart began racing with hope. It was the only lead we'd gotten in all this time. Even though it could be a sick joke by one of the kids in town, I had to check it out. I just couldn't pass it up.

 

Quickly I ran back inside, throwing open the door as I went “Grab your coat Al, we're going to town.” I told him, rushing to the closet to find my own. I pulled it out and came back into the front room.

 

“But why?” The boy was confused, but followed my instructions.

 

“I've got to check on something.” I grabbed the keys to the old truck, which had actually been inside rather than in the ignition where they usually were. It wasn't used much but right now I was in a hurry. “Come on!”

 

Al had his only jacket on in a second and was racing after me. Out beside the house sat the old red vehicle. “Does it work?” He hadn't seen it in use since he'd gotten here and it didn't look like it would.

 

“It better!” I laughed, jerking open the door and jumping in. Al followed my lead by getting in on the passengers' side.

 

“Come on baby.” I pleaded with it, turning the key. The engine made a noise but refused to go. “Come on.” I tried again. The engine started but then died quickly. “You want to go to the dump?!” That did it.

 

The car started and I yelled to Al, before I put my foot on the gas. “Buckle up!” With that we were off. Granted I wasn't the best driver in the world. But I'd never had a wreck and the cops wouldn't bother to stop me in this town.

 

I sped along the roads. The world was flying by outside. “Where are we going?” Al asked over the engine. He wasn't used to the feel of a car moving beneath him. I noticed a hand grasping his stomach.

 

“There.” I pointed across the open field to an old rundown warehouse. It was the only thing standing in a lone meadow. Neglected, and shabby, it was barely standing at all. I pulled to a stop and jumped out of the truck.

 

“Stay here.” I ordered pointing to Al. He nodded and I turned to run up the steps to the door. Then carefully I opened it, my breath held.

 

The room was dark and dusty. There was only a little light coming through the small slat windows onto the floor. It was all one large space which had been emptied years ago. I'd played here as a child, before it had been condemned.

 

“What do you want?” A deep voice came from somewhere along the wall to my far left. I glanced in that direction but could see only a hazy shape in the darkness.

 

I stepped in, curiosity conquering my fear. “I'm looking for Edward Elric.” My voice was strong despite my failing nerve.

 

The voice huffed at me. “Why, so you can tell the papers you've found the great Fullmetal Alchemist?” I moved forward, following the sound of the voice. “To say that he's broken and useless? That he's a bum living in an abandoned building?”

 

As I crept forward I could just make out the shape of a man slouched against the wall. He was black against the dark background. “Are you him?” My heart was hopeful but I wanted to be sure, before my hopes were raised too high.

 

He flipped a switch, lighting up the whole place in a single moment. I blinked against the onslaught of light that hurt my eyes. My hands few up to shield them momentarily, so they would have time to adjust.

 

After they did I could see that he was missing this right arm as well as his left leg. Beside him lay an old wooden crutch. His golden hair hung in loose tangles. He needed a shave and a new set of clothes. Probably could have stood a good hot shower as well. He was as broken and hurt as his little brother had been when I had first found him.

 

He raised his only hand and made a grand wave. “Congratulations, you've found the prodigy!” He was mocking me in an extremely sour voice. His eyes seemed to hold nothing but pure contempt.

 

Clearing my throat I found the nerve to speak to this disheveled man. “I've come to speak with you about your brother.”

 

“He's dead.” Edward growled at me. “He died! Didn't you get the memo? Or don't you check up before researching a story?” His eyes were full of fury, sadness, and mixed with hopelessness.

 

“I'm not a reporter.” I uttered, trying to keep my wits and temper. How can I take him to Al like this? The kid would be devastated.

 

“Not a very good one anyway.” The man was starting to get on my nerves but I'd been where he was now. The main difference was that I'd pulled out of it. I had spent time and energy, working to overcome the pain.

 

“Alphonse is alive!” I wanted to scream at him, but managed to keep my tone down, at least as much as possible. I hated the way he made me feel. Like I would play such a heartless joke on anyone!

 

I could tell this guy wasn't drunk on alcohol but on sarcasm and tragedy. He'd apparently wrapped himself up in it and stayed there. “No, he's not. He's dead, just like everyone else.”

 

“He's out in my truck right now! He's been looking for you.” I was struggling to keep my temper in check. Al needed him, he had to believe me. It had to work out, for the sake of Alphonse, it had to work.

 

Ed shook his head. “Can't you people just leave me alone?” His eyes turned to meet mine. “Don't you get it? I did it. I let my brother be killed! The great Fullmetal Alchemist couldn't even save his own brother! The only real thing I had to do with my life and I failed!”

 

Pain struck my heart. The only real thing I had to do and I failed. How many times have I told myself that?

 

 

“Ona, take care of your brother.” My mother's soft voice was failing her. “Go to the little house in the country, and watch out for him.” With that she'd died, my hand in hers.

 

 

I had tried so hard to keep him with me. “You're only eighteen Ona, we can't grant you custody.” The woman had shaken her head sorrowfully. “I'm sorry.”

 

“But please.” Tears poured down my face. “He's my only little brother. Please, he's all I've got.”

 

 

 

“Ona?” Emery had been thirteen at the time of our parents' death. “Aren't we going to the country like momma said?” His blue eyes were filled with tears as his brown hair fell across his face.

 

My hand gently moved the short locks out of the way. “We can't. They won't let you come with me.” I had tried to explain but ended up crying before him. My heart breaking, knowing I'd failed him.

 

“It's ok sissy.” His arms slipped around my neck and he hugged me tightly. “Everything will be alright.”

 

 

“What do you mean I can't see him?” I was screaming in the main office of the orphanage.

 

“I'm sorry Ona, but we believe it will only make things harder for the both of you.” The old man who ran the place was telling me calmly. His hands clasped together, resting on the desk. “He needs to find a good home.”

 

“He has a home!” I'd screamed. “With me!” My face was red. It had been two months and they'd given me a million excuses as to why I couldn't see Emery. Now they were telling me that I would never be able to see him again. It was too much for me to deal with. “Does he even know why I haven't been to see him? Does my brother know you won't let me?”

 

“Escort the lady out please.” The old man turned to the security guard who moved from the corner towards me.

 

I'd run down the hall to the lunchroom. “Emery!” As I broke through the door I saw him, sitting with a sad look on his face. “Emery!” He'd turned to me with a look of hope. Then the guard had grabbed my arm.

 

“Sis!” Emery tried to come to me but some of the workers held him back. “Ona!!!!!!!!” He'd yelled.

 

“I love you Emery!” I'd screamed “I'll get you out!” I'd struggled until they threw me out the door onto the hard ground.

 

Tears welled in my eyes as I sat there. I hadn't seen my brother since that day. They wouldn't even let me speak with him over the phone. I'd failed.

 

 

Author's notes

I'm starting to think I need to learn to write humor instead.