Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Unto the Shores of Acheron ❯ Those Whom We Forgive ( Chapter 3 )

Warning: some swearing this chapter.

 

Chapter Three: Those Whom We Forgive

 

Rain beat noisily against the windows. In the distance, a low rumble of thunder echoed across the heavens. A light chill hung in the air, laced with dampness.

 

Another clap of thunder sounded, this time closer.

 

A murmured groan - like that of one waking up but reluctant to leave the dark void of unconsciousness just yet - sounded. A thin figure shifted beneath the sheets of a bed on the far side of the room. Tussled blonde hair - the same color of sun bleached straw - spilled across the pillow, shining dully in the pale grey light.

 

Yet another roll of thunder sounded, this time rattling the panes of glass.

 

Slowly, two eyelids drifted apart to reveal bright gold irises. For a moment, they stared ahead into nothing as if their owner was unwilling to return to full consciousness. Exhaustion glazed the two pools of gold, dulling their inherent brightness.

 

As another crash of thunder sounded, the owner of said eyes - a lithe, long-haired boy about eighteen years old - turned his face to the side and nuzzled it deeper into the pillow.

 

“Goddamn rain…” came a groggy, muffled curse.

 

Pulling the covers closer, the boy burrowed deeper into his cocoon of blankets, as if determined to ignore the storm and go back to sleep. But it seemed Fate wasn't about to let him; because just as he started to drift off again another deafening crash of thunder sounded, shaking the very foundations of the house.

 

“GODDAMMIT! Can't a guy get any sleep in this godforsaken world!”

 

Kicking back the covers, the boy angrily rolled out of bed and stood. Clad in only boxer shorts, the boy made a striking sight. Although not impressive in either height or build, the sight of two prosthetic limbs attached to his right shoulder and left leg would have made anyone give pause and stare at the blonde teenager. Ragged scars ran back and forth across his flesh at the base of each artificial limb, as if his missing limbs had somehow been torn from his body instead of cleanly cut.

 

Stalking to the window, an irritated Edward Elric stared out the rain-streaked glass. An angry, storm-blackened sky met his gaze. Munich's rain-drenched skyline stretched out before him like a dark watercolor painting. Below, the streets were empty - no one, it seemed, willing to brave the torrential downpour currently unleashing its fury on the quiet city.

 

Ed gave a sigh. He wondered if it was raining back home. Whenever something happened in this world he often found himself wondering if the same was happening in the world he'd left behind.

 

Ed turned away from the window, suddenly feeling despondent. That usually happened whenever he caught himself thinking about Amestris or the people still there.

 

Three years… he thought as he went about the tedious chore of getting dressed. (No matter how flexible his bastard father might have made his replacement prosthetics, they were no where as agile as Winry's automail ones he'd outgrown several years ago; thus making things like getting dressed a somewhat clumsy affair.) Three years and I still haven't found a way to get back home…

 

On the wall behind him was a poster of a rocket shooting across the sky. Since sacrificing himself to the Gate to revive his brother and finding himself in this strange world, he'd devoted himself to finding a way back. He had to get back! He had to see for himself that he'd succeeded in restoring Al. But as of yet, he still had not discovered a way to do so. There was no such thing as alchemy in this world, and no matter how much he studied he couldn't seem to unlock the secrets of this world's technology. Rockets and airplanes, zeppelins and jets. None of them brought him any closer to going home. There were times when he truly began to wonder if he would ever see Amestris, his brother, Winry, Pinako, Izumi, the Central gang, or even that bastard colonel ever again…

 

Finally finished, Ed shrugged his long brown coat on and went into the kitchen of the small apartment he lived. The flat was unusually quiet.

 

“Alphonse?” Ed called. “Alphonse, you here?”

 

There was no answer from anywhere in the apartment. Glancing at the table, Ed saw a note. Picking it up, he read:

 

Edward, I had to go to the factory early today. Our patrons wants us to move the rocket's intended completion date up several weeks. I don't know if I'll be back tonight. Signed, Alphonse.

 

Ed sighed and set the note back down. He didn't know how he felt about his brother's alternate double, Alphonse Heiderich, and his team of engineers working for this group of secret benefactors. There was something suspicious about them. Over the last few months he'd begun to hear odd things around the city. There was whispered talk of revolution and of a man that could restore Germany to its former glory - a chairman of the Nazi Socialist Party named Adolph Hitler. It was said he would once again make the world recognize the superiority of the Aryan race.

 

Ed might not have cared much about politics or the problems of this world since it was not his own, but he could tell something was brewing - something big. And for some reason he had a feeling Alphonse's mysterious benefactors were somehow connected to this chairman and his gang of swastika wearing paratroopers. He didn't like it. Something about it all gave him a bad feeling inside…

 

Shaking his head to rid himself of his paranoid unease, the gold haired teenager turned towards the door. He had research to do. He'd heard rumors lately of a new study being done by a theoretical physics professor in Berlin - an Albert Einstein - on Brownian movement, or the zigzag motion of molecules. If he could somehow unlock the secrets of this Brownian movement and learn the ways a human body's atoms could be manipulated or changed, he might be one step closer to someday finding a way home. He knew it was a long shot, but at the moment he was starting to get desperate and willing to try anything. He didn't care how he got back home - only that he did. He wanted to see his little brother and everybody else again so badly he would do almost anything.

 

Making his way downstairs, Ed gave his landlady, Gracia, a quick wave as he headed for the door.

 

“Edward,” she called, arranging a pot of daffodils near the counter, “where's your umbrella? It's pouring outside.”

 

Ed had to smile. No matter how different the Alphonse of this world might be to his own, Gracia Hughes' flower shop keeping double was exactly the same - a worrying mother type through and through. Neither him or Alphonse could ever seem to make it out of the boarding house without Gracia making sure they had hat, muffler, coat, or umbrella depending on the season or weather. It almost reminded him of having a real mother.

 

“I'll be fine, Gracia. My coat has a hood.” He quickly pulled it up over his head. “See? I'm just going to the library for awhile.”

 

“But, Edward, I have an umbrella right here behind the counter. Just wait there a moment while I get it-”

 

“That's alright, Gracia, I'll see you later!” Then with one last wave, Ed escaped out the door before the motherly shopkeeper could stop him.

 

Outside the streets were empty; almost completely deserted. The only other people he saw were those waiting out the deluge in shops or cafes, and the occasional car that rumbled past in the street. Rain pattered softly on the top of Ed's head, dripping off the brim of his hood into his eyes. He made no move to wipe the water away though. The rain was strangely calming. It helped him his forget his troubles and the ever present ache in his heart for the ones he left behind.

 

As Ed continued to walk with his head bowed to the driving rain, he happened to catch the sound of a car coming up the street behind him. It sounded like it was moving fast. Veering to the side to avoid the inevitable spray of water as the car passed, Ed walked closer to the buildings.

 

But the car never went past him. Instead, Ed heard the car slow down and match his speed, pacing him from several yards behind.

 

Ed felt as uneasy feeling rise up inside him. Something wasn't right.

 

Continuing to walk like he hadn`t noticed he was being followed, Ed surreptitiously glanced back over his shoulder towards the suspicious car. It was black without any distinguishing marks. Its windows were partially fogged from the chilly rain, making it difficult to see how many people were inside, but Ed had a sinking feeling there were more than one.

 

Ed felt his unease grow. Who were these people? Why were they following him? What could he have done to attract these people's attention?

 

He continued to walk with his head bent low. He could try and lose them, he thought. There was a plethora of side streets he could disappear down that were too narrow for the car to follow. He would just have to time it so he could get away before whoever was following him had time to get out of the car and chase him.

 

But before Ed could make his move, he heard the car suddenly stop and several doors open.

 

Shit…

 

“Hey kid!” a voice yelled over the hiss of rain. “You Edward Elric?”

 

“Who wants to know?” Ed replied, turning to face the car. There were three men, all of them dressed in dark clothes. Through the curtains of misty rain he saw pins attached to each of their lapels - black swastikas in the middle of white, red rimmed circles.

 

Nazis…

 

“It's none of your business who we are,” one of the other men said, stepping closer. “We'll only ask you one more time: are you Edward Elric?”

 

“So what if I am?” Ed replied, warily eyeing the three men. “It's kind of rude not to introduce yourself especially when you`re asking someone else for their name.”

 

“We need you to come with us,” the first man said.

 

“Sorry. I don't make a habit out of going places with people I don't know.”

 

The third man stepped closer, as did his companions. “Please come with us,” he said, his tone implying he was doing everything but nicely asking Ed to come with them. “This concerns Shambala…”

 

Ed stared at the man, his eyes narrowing. “Sorry. Don't know the thing. I have to get going.” Turning, Ed began to walk away. The first man's voice called after him.

 

“We have your father Hohenheim. We know where you're really from.”

 

Ed froze, his heart thundering madly against the inside of his chest. His father? He hadn't seen his father since before his trip to Romania. When he'd returned to Munich he'd found their apartment empty and his father gone. It was like Hohenheim of the Light had simply vanished. At first Ed had been resentful - feeling like he'd once again been abandoned by the man who'd caused his mother and family so much grief. But now… now he had to wonder if Hohenheim's disappearance was really the old man's doing or someone else's.

 

And what was this about them knowing where he was really from? Did they somehow know about Amestris?

 

Whatever the case, something deep inside Ed was telling him not to go with these men; even if it meant finding out what happened to his estranged father.

 

“Don't know the guy…” Ed muttered, willing his feet to start moving again. “Good luck with whatever this Shambala thing is though.”

 

“I'm sorry but we're going to have to insist you come with us,” one man said.

 

“You have no choice in the matter,” said another.

 

Ed glanced over his shoulder again back towards the men and idling car. His eyes narrowed. “Like hell I don't…” Then kicking off the ground, Ed took off running.

 

He heard the men take up pursuit behind him.

 

His footsteps echoed loudly through the rain drenched streets, as did those of his pursuers. He could hear them slowly gaining on him - getting ever closer. His makeshift prosthetics were not as good as Winry's. His artificial leg did not move or respond to his muscle signals as efficiently as his old one's had, which slowed him down. The straps and attachment harness of the limb also jarred his leg stump painfully. He knew he wasn't going to be able to outrun his pursuers. They were too fast and he was not a runner. The last three years spent researching a way back home and not training hadn't done anything for his stamina. He was going to have to lose them some other way…

 

Ducking into a narrow alley, Ed put on a new burst of speed. He heard his pursuers follow in after him. The other end of the alley was about a hundred yards away. He knew if he could make it to the other side, just down the street to the left was a small constables station. At this time of day Maes Hughes' alternate double - a local policeman - was almost certain to be on duty.

 

Ed's breath was starting to come in short, labored gasps. If he ever made it back home one of the first things he was going to do was have Izumi whip him back into shape - he didn`t even care if she stranded him on that stupid little island of hers again. This was just pathetic…

 

He could hear his pursuers getting closer. They were probably only half a dozen feet behind him now.

 

The other end of the alley was still a good fifty yards away.

 

Forcing more effort into his stinging leg muscles and artificial leg, he grabbed the rim of an empty garbage can as he passed and pushed it over into the middle of the alleyway. He heard one of the men stumble and fall over it.

 

Smirking, Ed put on an extra burst of speed. He was almost there. He was now only twenty some yards away.

 

But just as he began to think he was going to be able to escape his pursuers, Ed suddenly felt one of the men grab the back of his coat and pull him backwards. He stumbled and fell to the ground.

 

Before he could do anything to recover or defend himself, two sets of hands grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall. Ed struggled against his captors.

 

“Let me go, you bastards!” he yelled, kicking and swinging his fists. It was times like this when he really missed being able to use alchemy or being able to transmute his arm into a metal blade.

 

A brutal punch to his abdomen however stilled the teenager's struggles. Ed doubled over against the wall, coughing and gasping for air. He saw spots dance across his vision.

 

“Damn brat…” one of the men holding him hissed.

 

The third man that had tripped over the trashcan came up behind the other two holding Ed. “Make sure it's him,” he said, angrily adjusting his dirtied clothes as he glared at the boy. “We don't want any mistakes with identity.”

 

One of the men holding Ed grabbed the bottom of the boy's jaw and shoved his head back against the wall. Ed angrily glared at the man and began struggling again. The second man delivered another punch to his stomach. Ed crumpled against the wall, his body slackening as he gasped for breath.

 

The man holding his jaw roughly pushed Ed's hood back and peeled open one of his eyes. “Blonde hair, gold eyes…” he noted to the third man standing behind him. Grabbing the collar of Ed's shirt, he ripped it to the side to expose the boy's right shoulder and the edge of his prosthetic arm. The second man reached down and lifted the bottom of Ed`s left pant leg, exposing the smooth white plastic underneath. “And artificial right arm and left leg… It's just like the psychic girl said. It's Edward Elric alright.”

 

The third man nodded and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a small bottle and handkerchief. Unscrewing the top, he poured a small amount of liquid into the middle of the handkerchief. Stepping towards his cornered victim, he pressed the cloth over Ed's mouth and nose. A strong, pungent odor filled Ed's nose.

 

Ed frantically began to struggle, but the two men holding him only tightened their grip, stilling his movements. Ed tried to hold him breath against the noxious fumes trying to invade his airways, but before long the need for air became too much and he was forced to take another lungful of the chemical laced air.

 

His felt his body grow heavy and weak, his vision going blurry. His eyelids suddenly felt as if they both weighed a thousand pounds.

 

And just before everything went black, the last thing Edward saw was the shiny lapel pin of one of his attackers - a red rimmed circle with the bent cross of a Nazi swastika…

 

******

 

Outside the storm was beginning to lessen, although rain continued to angrily lash against the windows. The halls of the medical center were quiet. To anyone observing it would have almost appeared as if the place was deserted except for the two people sitting on a bench together outside one of the hospital's private rooms.

 

Lieutenant Jean Havoc glanced at the boy sitting beside him with his head silently held between his hands. He anxiously chewed the end of his unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He was starting to get worried. Since the night before - the night the Elric brothers' alchemy teacher completed the final stage of her Homunculus student's transformation - Al hadn't spoke or made any kind of move to follow anyone else's suggestion to go rest. He just continued to sit there, holding his head in his hands. Havoc was beginning to wonder if the boy wasn't suffering some kind of mental breakdown. He couldn't say he blamed him if he was…

 

What happened yesterday still felt like some kind of horrible nightmare. When they'd stormed into the abandoned laboratory to save Al and seen what that crazed ex-State Alchemist had transmuted, he'd almost thrown up. That thing… that monster Tucker created had not been human. He now knew why alchemists were forbidden to perform human transmutations. The thought of that creature laying in the middle of a bloody alchemy array still sent a cold shiver down his spine.

 

He was surprised the colonel hadn't followed through with his threat to kill it; although he understood why Mustang hadn't been able to do it. From Ed's earliest days in the military he'd always known the colonel had had a soft spot for the kid and secretly looked after him like he was one of his own. He had seen the anguished torment in the colonel's eye when Mustang had stood over the twisted parody of Edward Elric in Laboratory Five. And he had seen the raging storm of emotions on the colonel's face when he'd emerged from the Homunculus' room the night before. Havoc was pretty sure that was the first time he'd ever seen his commanding officer so close to tears.

 

Glancing at the boy beside him, Havoc felt an overwhelming sense of pity wash over him. Poor Al… He kept forgetting how painful the entire ordeal must have been for him; getting all his memories back and then someone trying to resurrect his dead brother. Alone either would have been a traumatic enough experience, but together… it was enough to make anyone go mad. He only wished he could do something for the boy. It just didn't seem fair. He'd always liked the younger Elric brother although it was kind of strange to be sitting next to him like this when he still remembered him as a hulking suit of armor.

 

He kind of wished the colonel had stayed longer. Mustang had always had a way with the two Elric boys. If anyone was suited to watch over Al right now it probably would have been him. But because of Tucker's arrest Mustang and the rest of the team had had to return to Central Headquarters to make reports and fill out all the necessary paperwork. The Elric brothers' teacher had also gone with them to make a formal statement. Havoc knew it was going to take some fancy maneuvering on the colonel's part to cover up what really happened last night in Laboratory Five.

 

Havoc had been the only one to stay behind. Mustang had been wary to leave the Homunculus unguarded until they decided what they were going to do with it, and had also wanted someone else to stay behind and watch Al. As of yet, the boy still hadn't made any move to get up or leave the spot he'd spent the entire night. It was like he'd withdrawn inside himself to escape the horrible pain of what had happened.

 

“Al? Hey,” Havoc called, gently shaking the boy's shoulder. The boy slowly raised his head and looked at the lieutenant through bleary, bloodshot eyes. Havoc felt a wave of pity go through him at the sight. “You're probably getting hungry. I'm going to go downstairs to the cafeteria to get something. What would you like?”

 

Al stared at him a moment before sullenly looking back down at the floor. “Nothing. I'm not hungry.”

 

Havoc frowned but tried to keep his tone light. He wasn`t sure if he was actually trying to cheer Al up or keep himself from acknowledging the awful situation they both found themselves in. “Aw, come on, kid. I know you've got to be starving; you didn`t eat anything last night either. I'll go get you something. And maybe some coffee too. It looks like you could use some.”

 

Al didn't reply and continued to sit hunched over in his seat, staring at the floor.

 

Well, at least I got him to talk, Havoc dolefully thought.

 

“I'll be back soon,” he said and gave Al's shoulder a comforting pat.

 

Al said nothing as the lieutenant walked off. As Havoc disappeared about a turn, the boy slowly raised his head and stared in the direction the lieutenant had gone. The hallway was now completely empty except for himself. No one else was in sight. Rain pattered softly against the windows, drumming a mournful beat.

 

Glancing to his left, Al stared at the door of the quiet hospital room. Besides Izumi and the colonel, no one else had gone inside. He knew that like himself, they were reluctant to see the finished product of Tucker's transmutation. It was too painful to think that that monster Tucker made now bore the unmistakable resemblance of the boy they'd lost so many years ago.

 

Al felt his stomach twist. He could still see in his mind's eye that twisted creature staring back at him with his brother's eyes - those haunting gold eyes. He remembered how he used to love his brother's eyes; how they used to stare into the distance with such fiery intensity. They had always used to remind him of liquid gold. He supposed they were what triggered the sudden return of all his memories. Because after seeing them, how could anyone ever forget those eyes or the one they used to belong to?

 

If only they were the eyes of his actual brother… How badly he wished they were. Somehow the return of his memories made the existence of this Homunculus Ed all the more painful to bear. Because now he actually remembered his older brother - the real Edward Elric. He didn't need any stories or pictures to remind him who his older brother was now. He remembered clearly now how his brother used to look, used to sound, used to hold his head up high even if it was only to make himself look a few centimeters taller. He remembered his brother's angry tantrums, his never ending fights with the colonel, the look of fear in his eyes whenever the name of their childhood alchemy teacher came up. He remembered everything. And because of that, he felt the hollow ache in his heart swell to untold heights every time he thought about the soulless being laying on the other side of that door. It was just too much…

 

Choking back the anguished sob that threatened to tear itself from his throat, Al shakily stood. He had to see the Homunculus. He had to see for himself if it really looked like his missing brother. He had seen the colonel's face when he'd emerged from the Homunculus' room the night before - the confusion, and anguish and pain. He knew it was going to be painful to go in there and see his brother laying there but know it really wasn`t him. He knew it was going to hurt. He knew it was going to tear his already bleeding heart to pieces. But he had to see his brother's soulless look alike for himself.

 

And so, with one last steadying breath, Al opened the door and slipped inside.

 

******

 

He wasn't sure what exactly woke him or prompted him to return to the painful world of consciousness; but as the veil of darkness slowly began to lift, Edward Elric weakly forced his eyes to open. His entire body hurt. It felt like someone had run it through a meat grinder, then roughly molded it back into shape. There wasn't an inch of flesh that didn't hurt. His muscles felt like they'd been brutally stretched and torn. Even his bones ached. Pain seemed to seep into the very core of his being. He was sure he'd never felt so sore in his entire life.

 

As he groggily looked around he found that the room was dark. A single lamp glowed on the bed stand, creating a large arch of light around it. He didn't know where he was, but it looked like he was in some kind of hospital.

 

Why would he be in the hospital, he wondered. When did he get hurt? Did something happen? For some reason he couldn't remember. His head felt like it was full of black, cottony fuzz. He felt like he should know what was going on, but for the life in him couldn't. Nothing made sense. It hurt so much to focus or try and organize his scattered thoughts.

 

Blinking bleary eyes into focus, Ed slowly looked around the room. His eyelids felt so heavy. He felt like he could sleep for a year and a day and still be tired. What happened? He felt so exhausted. And his body… He could barely move without sending blinding waves of pain through his torn and shredded muscles.

 

Fighting back exhaustion and pain it took Ed a moment to realize there was someone else in the room with him, standing several yards away in the shadows near the door. He had to blink several times before he was finally able to make out who it was.

 

“Al..?” he shakily whispered. His voice sounded so weak even to his own ears. His throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire. But he didn't care. Because the sight of the one he saw stole all other thought from him.

 

He saw the figure stiffen before slowly, hesitantly, stepping closer into the light.

 

Ed could only stare in disbelief. Standing before him was a boy no older than thirteen years old - his eyes a pale grey color with long blonde hair. He looked so familiar. Like someone he used to know - someone who looked so much like himself before he`d disappeared in a vortex of swirling white transmutation light.

 

“Al?” Ed rasped, as if afraid to find out the one he thought he saw before him was nothing but a feverish hallucination. “Al, is that really you?” Hope trembled his raspy voice. Could it be? Could it really be him?

 

The boy said nothing, and stared at him with tear choked eyes. If Ed hadn't been so dumbstruck by the sight of his little brother he might have noticed the look of utter heartbreak twisting his younger sibling's face.

 

“Al… your body… You got your body back,” Ed whispered, staring at his brother in disbelief. “You're not a suit of armor anymore…”

 

He couldn't believe it. Al was whole again. He'd gotten his body back! But how? Had they somehow finally found the Philosopher's Stone? But then why didn't he remember them doing so? These and so many others questions churned Ed's mind, but he could barely made himself care how this miraculous event had come to be, only that it had.

 

He weakly reached out for his brother, wanting nothing more than to pull his brother close and know for a fact he was no longer an empty suit of metal, but rather living human flesh and blood. He wanted to hold his little brother in his arms and feel the warmth of his skin and know he was truly and honestly alive.

 

But instead of rushing into his waiting arms like he expected him to, Al leapt back, shying away from his touch as if afraid he might get burned.

 

Ed stared at his brother his confusion. “Al?” He could hear the hurt in his own voice. “Al, what's wrong?”

 

Al still said nothing, staring at him in utter anguish. Tears began to pool along the bottom of his eyes, threatening to spill at any minute.

 

“Al?” Ed was starting to get scared. What was wrong? Why wouldn't his little brother come to him? Why was he acting like he was afraid of him?

 

He once again reached out to Al, forcing his aching muscles to move. He so desperately wanted to hold his little brother close. He was in so much pain. All he wanted was to hold Al close and know he was once again whole. But why wouldn't he come to him?

 

Al again shied away, moving so he stood on the edge of darkness, half a dozen feet away. Ed stared after him in hurt confusion.

 

“Al-”

 

“Shut up!”

 

The boy's teary cry rang through the room like a gunshot. His lower lip was now trembling, as if fighting to keep himself composed but failing miserably. Several tears streaked down his cheek.

 

“Shut up! Don't speak to me! You`re not my brother!”

 

Ed stared at him from the confines of his bed as if Al had just slapped him across the face.

 

“Al… What are you talking about? Of course I'm your brother.”

 

“No you're not!” Al screamed, shaking his head as if trying to deny some horrible truth only he knew. “You're not my brother! You're not him! You're just something Tucker made to replace him!”

 

“Al, what are you talking about?”

 

Al stared at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My real brother`s dead. He died giving himself to the Gate to restore me three years ago,” he sobbed. “Tucker wanted to revive Brother through human transmutation and created you instead. We tried to stop him but he started the transmutation before we could.” An anguished sob tore itself from Al's throat. “You're not my brother…”

 

Ed stared at him, feeling as if someone was trying to play some kind of cruel joke on him. “How can you say that, Al?” he said, his eyes pleading with Al to stop saying these hurtful things. “Look at me. It's me, Ed - your brother. We've been together since the day you were born. I remember how we always used to play with each other-”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“-I remember how Winry always used to yell at us whenever we talked about alchemy around her -”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“-and I remember how we tried to resurrect mom.”

 

“Shut up!” Al screamed, his hands clenching into fists by his sides. Helpless tears of anger streamed down his face, flashing brightly in the dull lamplight. “Those aren't your memories! They're just memories Tucker implanted in you when he took my blood and added it to the composition elements! You're not my brother!”

 

“Stop saying that!” Ed cried, desperately trying to make his brother listen. Why was Al doing this to him? “Why won't you believe me that I'm your brother?”

 

“Because I can see that thing on your arm!” Al cried, and pointed accusingly at Ed's right shoulder. “If you really have my brother's memories then you'll know what that is.”

 

Ed turned his face to the side and for the first time since waking realized he no longer had an automail arm but rather his natural flesh one. For a moment, Ed just stared at it, not quite sure what to make of its unexplainable presence. Wiggling his toes, he also realized he had his real left leg. What was going on? The last time he remembered he had two metal limbs - his original two lost in the horrible transmutation they'd tried to bring their mother back with. Something wasn't right.

 

Slowly raising his arm - his torn arm muscles screaming in protest - he stared at the limb. Almost experimentally he flexed his fingers and marveled at how the flesh digits responded to his muscle commands. But as he turned his arm over to continue his examination he caught sight of something marring his upper right shoulder. He slowly turned his arm more so he could see it better. It was a tattoo. A tattoo in the image of a winged serpent devouring its own tail…

 

Ed froze, staring at the thing in horror. No… This wasn't right. This couldn't be!

 

He desperately looked up at Al, his eyes begging him to tell him what he saw wasn't real. But Al wasn't looking at him. He was staring at the floor, his face hidden behind a curtain of blonde bangs. That did not stop Ed from seeing the lines of anguished tears rolling down his brother's cheeks though.

 

He turned back and stared at the hideous tattoo.

 

How could this be? How could this be real? This wasn't right!

 

Ed felt his airways constrict, panic seizing his heart. No! This wasn't right! There had to be some kind of mistake! There was no way this could be true! There was no way he could be one of those soulless things - one of those Homunculi!

 

Ed felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. No. This wasn't right. He remembered! He remembered things only the real Edward Elric could! He remembered him and Al trying to resurrect their mother then losing their bodies to the Laws of Equivalent Exchange. He remembered them burning down their house after he'd become a State Alchemist. He remembered them searching for the Philosopher`s Stone. He remembered… Roy Mustang standing over him in a darkened room with his hand held out over him as if ready to ignite the deadly spark that gave him the title Flame Alchemist.

 

NO! That wasn't right! Why would he remember the colonel doing that? Mustang might have been an arrogant pain in the ass, but he remembered him always looking out for him -always going out of his way to protect him.

 

Tears leaked out the corners of Edward's eyes as he stared at the ceiling above his bed. He was so confused. Why would the colonel have been trying to kill him? He'd always tried to protect him. He would never try to harm him. But then why did he remember Mustang standing over him like that?

 

“Al…” Ed begged, turning his head to the side to look at the boy standing at a distance from his bed. Confusion, hurt, and fear thickened his trembling voice. “Please… please tell me I'm the real Edward Elric. Please tell me this is all just some kind of joke. Please tell me I`m your older brother…”

 

But Al refused to answer. His pale grey eyes were filled with tears, staring at him with such heart-wrenching anguish Ed felt as if they were somehow blaming him. Al shook his head, hiding his face from view behind a curtain of dark blonde hair. Then, as if unable to stand the sight of Ed laying there anymore, Al suddenly turned and fled the room, his long red coat snapping behind him in the air. He never even paused to look back as he disappeared from sight.

 

Ed stared after him, devastation washing over him. The room suddenly felt cold, like an empty grave. Loneliness and pain the likes of which he'd never felt before exploded in his chest.

 

No… this wasn't right. This wasn't right! This wasn't right! There was no way this could be true!

 

But looking at the serpent brand on his shoulder, Edward knew that what he saw was no lie or joke. What he saw was real.

 

Unable to deny the horrible truth anymore, Ed turned his head to the side and buried his face in the pillow. And with no one there to comfort him or hear his helpless cries, the soulless boy screamed his anguish into the empty silence of the room.

 

******

 

Consciousness returned slowly to Edward Elric. His head felt like it was wreathed in some kind of dense fog that refused to fully lift. His stomach ached painfully although it didn't feel like anything was broken. Groaning, Ed forced his eyes open. The world swayed as he held his bruised stomach and gingerly pushed himself to his knees.

 

Where am I? he wondered as he looked around his new surroundings. It looked like he was in some kind of castle or old cathedral. He was sitting at the base of what looked like a huge continuous rampway that spiraled up around him, creating a sort of gothic interior tower. A domed ceiling stretched out overhead at least five stories above the ground. Torches glowed around the perimeter of the circular area of floor in which he sat.

 

“What the hell…” Ed muttered, looking around. As far as he could tell, no one else was there - the men who'd attacked him earlier no where to be seen. Wincing, he began to push himself to his feet. But as he pushed against the floor to give himself the extra momentum he needed to stand, the teenager suddenly froze.

 

Beneath him, crisscrossing back and forth across the ground was an elaborate series of lines. They surrounded him, creating a huge pattern at least forty feet across.

 

It was a giant alchemy array…

 

For a moment, all Ed could do was stare, stunned by the sight of the painfully nostalgic symbol. It was an alchemy array the likes of which he'd never seen before. The points, division lines, and intricate pattern… it was something so complex Ed never would have imagined it even in his wildest dreams.

 

“Surprised, shorty?” a loud, throaty voice suddenly boomed out of nowhere.

 

Ed leapt to his feet. “Who's there?”

 

A nasty chuckle rumbled the air. “What's the matter, squirt? Don't remember me? I'm hurt.”

 

Finally pinpointing the source of the voice, Ed looked up - and froze.

 

Encircling the interior circumference of the tower several stories above the ground was a giant serpent-like creature. Its draconian body was held in place by a series of metal chains and brackets attached to the walls. Blood red eyes stared down at Ed as the creature squirmed and twisted, straining against the metal links holding it captive.

 

“Envy?” Ed gasped, staring at the monstrous form in disbelief. He recognized that sly, mocking voice no matter what form the Homunculus shape shifter was in. “What are you doing here?”

 

An angry hiss came from the giant serpent's mouth. “I followed you here to find that bastard, Hohenheim, and kill him,” Envy growled, ferociously snapping his fangs. “But he's proven harder to find than expected; and since this world doesn`t seem to follow the same rules as ours, I can`t transform back into my normal self.”

 

Ed snorted. “I don't know if that's actually a good thing or bad thing. You always were an ugly bastard…”

 

Envy hissed and snapped his teeth at the teenage boy. “Shut up, pip squeak! You're only second on my death list after that bastard Hohenheim. Don`t think I don`t plan of biting you in half the second I get free.”

 

Ed was about to open his mouth and shoot back another foul retort, but just then he heard footsteps and turned to see a small group of people emerge from the shadows of the room and come to stand on the edge of the giant alchemy array.

 

“Ah… I see you're already acquainted with our Giant Snake. This might make things easier for us…” said a tall blonde woman - apparently the leader of the group by the way the rest gathered around her. Like the men that had kidnapped him, a Nazi swastika was pinned to her collar. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Dietlinde Eckart, head of the Thule Society.”

 

Behind the woman stood a tall professor-type looking man flanked by several swastika-wearing men with guns. Beside him, hiding in the shadow of the woman leader was a dark-skinned girl no older than Ed himself. She had an exotic look to her, as if she wasn't from that part of the country. If Ed wasn't mistaken, she looked like the alternate double of Roze Thomas from his world. The girl had a distant look in her eyes and seemed reluctant to look in Ed's direction - as if she was somehow guilty for him being there. And behind her-

Ed felt his heart clench.

 

-behind the dark-skinned girl was none other than his own father, Hohenheim of the Light, held on either side by two Nazi guards. His hands were bound in front of him and he looked as if he had suffered a recent blow to the face. His left temple was a livid patch of discolored purple skin.

 

“Old man!” Ed exclaimed.

 

Looking up, Hohenheim stared at his son with some thing akin to dismayed heartache. “Edward… so they found you after all…”

 

“You!” Envy roared and began thrashing against his restraints, biting and snapping the air in the direction of the blonde man. “I'll kill you!”

 

Eckart gave a throaty chuckle as she watched Envy writhe and growl. “He's feisty today… That's good. Maybe he`ll finally be willing to cooperate…”

 

“Who are you people and what do you want with me?” Ed demanded, angrily glaring at the woman.

 

The woman gave him a taunting smile. “As I already mentioned we are the Thule Society. We are a group of people who believe in the potential of human beings someday superceding our current limitations of existence and tapping into the very powers of the universe. Some people may call us mystics or the occult, but I like to think of ourselves as visionaries. We are the ones that will one day open the doors to the human being's true potential.'

 

“Not long ago, our dear Karl Haushofer here-” she gestured to the academic-looking man beside her “-happened to meet your father Hohenheim at a Thule Society meeting, and learned of a fantastic world parallel to ours in which people can change the very structure of an object and turn it into whatever they want through a mysterious art called alchemy. Needless to say, we were eager to learn more of this alchemy and this fabled world `Shambala.''

 

“Unfortunately, it seems your father was unwilling to reveal to us his secrets or how we might reach Shambala. Even after we were forced to take him into our… hospitality he still refused to tell us anything. It was only after we acquired this psychic gypsy girl that we were finally able to learn the basics of how alchemy works. But even after capturing the Giant Snake we still cannot seem to open a gateway to Shambala…”

 

The woman stared at Edward, a triumphant grin twisting her lips - like that of a predator eyeing its cornered prey. “We know you are from Shambala and that you are Hohenheim's son. The gypsy girl told us about you and how we might find you. Since your father is so unwilling to help us, you will have to do. We want you to open a gateway to Shambala.”

 

“If I could, I already would have a long time ago,” Edward snorted, contemptuously staring at the blonde woman. “Alchemy doesn't work in this world in case the old man over there didn`t tell you. Besides, even if I could open a gate to my world, it would probably cost me my life. Equivalent Trade. That's one of the first rules of Alchemy. You have to give something in order to get something in return. What you want me to do is impossible. But even if it wasn`t, I still wouldn`t do it for a bunch of goose-stepping freaks like you.”

 

“I don't believe you,” Eckart sneered. “You're lying. You're just like you're father: difficult and stubborn.”

 

“So I've been told… (1)” Ed growled.

 

“I see we're just going to have to make you see things our way,” Eckart said, motioning to her team of soldiers. “I doubt a little boy like you will last very long…”

 

Ed's nostrils flared, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Why don't you come over here and call me a tiny shrimp who can`t defend himself in a fight!”

 

Eckart chuckled darkly under her breath. “Stubborn, but lively… I like that.” She glanced at one of her soldiers. “Don't hold back. Just make sure you don't kill him.”

 

The soldier curtly nodded, then stepped towards Ed. Two other soldiers followed.

 

Ed dropped into a fighting stance, warily eyeing the three guards. One soldier lunged at him. Dropping low, Ed delivered a punch to the man's abdomen. Gasping for air, the man crumpled to the ground holding his stomach.

 

Ed grinned. He might have lost some of his stamina over the years but he'd forgotten none of his old alchemy teacher's training. A punch from Izumi was something one didn't easily forgot, or how one went about avoiding one of those aforementioned punches.

 

A second guard came at him. Ed leapt back and ducked to avoid the man's fist which came flying at his head. Grabbing the soldier's overextended arm, Ed pivoted and flipped the man over his shoulder using the guard's own momentum. The soldier hit the ground and lay gasping for his air on his back.

 

A smirk twisted Ed's face. This was it? This was all the all-powerful, Nazi-backed Thule Society had to offer? This was pathetic.

 

But just then a gunshot rang out, shattering the boy`s cocky thoughts.

 

Ed crumpled to the ground.

 

Pushing himself to his elbow's Ed looked up to find the third guard standing several yards away with a smoking pistol in his hand. As Ed tried to get back to his feet, he was startled to find his left leg suddenly refusing to respond to his muscle signals or bear his weight. Looking down, he saw that the soldier's bullet had torn a path through his artificial leg's kneecap - completely immobilizing it.

 

Ed stared at the armed man with a cold wash of horror. He could no longer stand or fight. He was helpless.

 

The soldier's gun was trained on him, its barrel staring down at him like some kind of evil black eye.

 

“Are you willing to work with us now?” Eckart's voice rang from the edge of the array. “As you can see, the Thule Society is not one to waste time on foolish little martial art fights. We mean business.”

 

Ed glared at her with defiant gold eyes. “Screw you,” he hissed.

 

Eckart's lips twisted into a scowl. “Such foul language for such a little boy... Kohler,” she called to the guard standing over Ed, “shoot him in one of his real limbs. Maybe that will help him see the light. And if that doesn't work, shoot him in another until he finally does. Just don't make any of them too serious. We don't want him permanently crippled after all…”

 

Ed stoically glared at the man as the soldier stepped closer and took aim at his other leg. He wasn't going to look away. He wasn't going to give these people the pleasure of seeing him scream or cringe under their torture. He didn't care how many times Eckart ordered the man to shoot him; he wasn't going to give in.

 

But just as the soldier was about to press the trigger, a loud shout followed by the startled cries of two Nazi soldiers sounded from the edge of the array. Both Ed and the guard looked over.

 

Wrenching his arms out of his guards' grip, Hohenheim swung his bound hands at one of the soldiers' faces. It connected with a sickening crunch and gush of blood. The guard fell to his knees, holding his shattered nose. Before the second guard had any time to react, Hohenheim delivered a similar blow to him, knocking him backwards to the ground. Brutally shouldering his way past Haushofer, Eckart, and the frightened gypsy girl, Hohenheim ran towards the middle of the alchemy array where Ed lay with his shattered left leg. Like an angry battering ram Hohenheim plowed into the last guard, knocking him to the ground. The man's gun fell out of his grip and slid across the polished floor out of sight.

 

“Someone, stop him!” Eckart yelled from the edge of the array.

 

Above them Envy thrashed in his restraints, biting and snapping in Hohenheim's direction. “I'll kill you, you bastard!” he yelled, straining against the chains holding him captive.

Ed stared at his father in bewildered surprise as the older man knelt beside him. “Old man, what are you-?”

 

“There's no time, Edward,” Hohenheim said, cutting him off. “You have to go home. I know you think you can't do alchemy in this world, but you can. The Nazis have found a way to bypass the natural limitations of this world. With this array you can get back.”

 

“But what about the Equivalent Trade?” Ed said, taken aback by the intensity of his father's voice. “I'll be killed. What will I give in exchange?”

 

“Give me,” Hohenheim said, meeting his son's frightened gold eyes. “I have caused you so much pain and suffering over the years giving you a chance to go back home is the least I can do.”

 

Envy's thrashes were becoming more violent. He viciously roared and snapped the air, driven beyond the point of coherent thought in his thirst to kill the man he'd searched for and hated for so long. The rivets of the metal bands holding him captive began to groan under his struggles. Several popped out of the walls and rained down on the two kneeling in the middle of the alchemy array below.

 

Ed stared at his father in horror. “No! I can't do that! I won`t!”

 

“Edward,” Hohenheim calmly said, “this is your only chance to go home. I should have died lifetimes ago. My time is over while you have only begun to live. You do not belong in this world. You have to go back. Alphonse needs you. I know how hard you've spent these last few years trying to find a way back. But the only way to do that is to sacrifice me. Please. Let me do this for you. Let me do this last thing for you as your father who didn't deserve you as a son.”

 

A thunderous roar from Envy sounded overhead. Chunks of rocks and twisted metal rained down onto the array. Several of the metal bands holding the shape shifting Homunculus captive snapped, ripped from the walls as if they were mere pieces of tin foil.

 

Ed stared at his father with watery eyes. He felt his throat constrict with long repressed emotions. “Old man…” he choked, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. “Dad… please don't make me do this…”

 

“You have to, Edward,” Hohenheim said, cupping his son's face in between his hands. “You have to look after Alphonse. When you see him, tell him I`m sorry. Tell him I'm sorry I was never able to be there for you.” He stared into his son's eyes, tears brimming along his own. “I'm so sorry, Edward…” he whispered. “For everything… Please forgive me.”

 

Envy was now completely free. His serpentine body lashed the air, pulling the last few rivets from of the walls.

 

“Dad…” Ed begged, pleading with the man not to make him do this.

 

But Hohenheim refused to listen. Releasing his son`s face, he leaned back on his heels and met Ed`s teary eyes. “There's no more time, Edward. You have to do it. Now!”

 

Above them, Envy roared and descended upon them like some demonic god of death. His fangs gnashed the air, thirsting for blood.

 

“Now, Edward! Do it!” Hohenheim cried.

 

With tears in his eyes Ed looked at his father one last time. Hohenheim's face was peaceful as he stared at his son, a bittersweet smile tugging his lips. It was like he'd finally found meaning in his last few moments of life. A tiny sob escaped Ed's throat as he clapped his hands together and miserably slammed them against the enormous alchemy array beneath them.

 

Brilliant white light exploded up from the painted black lines and engulfed them. Ed felt the very air around him surge with power. And then - hundreds of tiny black arms reaching out to grab him - Ed felt himself pulled away into the very fabric of time and space - back home to Amestris…

 

To Be Continued…

 

 

(1) In original Japanese text, Ed`s title “Hagane” can mean both “Fullmetal” or “stubborn.” That's why when Mustang gives Ed the papers giving him his new Alchemist title he says it's an ironic name for Ed. (ie. the Stubborn Alchemist)

 

A/N: I was debating for a long time how I was going to write the Homunculus Ed and Al scene. I couldn't help but see Al as being in a state of confusion and despair, and with Homunculus Ed talking as if he was the real Ed it would have been too much for Al to stand and would have made him blindly lash out like that. Any thoughts?

 

PLEASE REVIEW!

 

-LAXgirl