A FullMetal Alchemist fanfic by Majo-chan
"People can't get anything without losing something of equal value. That is the Principle of Equal Trade in alchemy."
**
"It's horrible..." the hushed words sank like stone in the dead
silence, absorbed in the quiet like water on sand. Far in the distance there
was a muffled rumble as a few of the skeletal support beams of the damaged
building finally gave into the inevitable pull of gravity.
"Were there any survivors?"
"There had better be...otherwise all they have done would have been for nothing."
**
The first thing he did was try to get out of bed. That attempt was largely a failure, he didn't get much more than a foot before the pain hit, pain that had been a distant memory up until now. The stale hospital air, the chilly tiled floor, the plain, almost paper-like bedsheets that he clutched at for dear life. Air felt like fire in his lungs, and sound and smells and more assaulted him. When Winry found him, he could not help but clutch at her, babbling almost hysterically. She had half-dragged, half-carried him to the bathroom, where he had transferred his grip to the chilly steel rim of the mirror.
Panicked brown eyes stared back at him. The same eyes that had been in his dim and fading memories.
How do you know you were real? Where is your human body?
He touched his face. I'm real, he thought, I'm real.
**
He woke up in a strange place, where strange people talked at him but the words made no sense. His body was oddly light, as if his muscles remembered bearing a heavier weight. His chest was tight with bandages. He didn't realize his right arm--and a good chunk of his shoulder--was missing until he tried to get up. Tried, and failed in the process, and also discovered that there was only one foot under the light blanket covering him.
Later, he would realize he could understand the words. You're lucky you survived. You lost an arm and a leg, we almost couldn't save you. It looks like someone tore out some fixtures that had been there...do you remember having automail? Who are you? What happened? Where did you come from?
He did not know the answers.
**
He had validation now. Proof that he existed, a body that lived and breathed and felt pain, a human body like the one he was born with, down the last freckle on his nose. The price for the validation--the most important person.
He was truly alone now.
**
Al.
They called him that, because it was the only name that came to mind at all.
Al had one arm and one leg, and eyes that no one could stare into for long. The people who saved him were kind-hearted nuns running an orphanage in the far north, and they urged him to stay with them and the children. It was their belief that their god welcomed all lost sheep, and there was no doubt that Al was lost.
Al was not pious but he did not reject their offer. Even if he could walk, he would not know where to go. He had a feeling that was not always so, he had the distinct impression that he had a purpose once, but now that was gone. So he stayed. There were more children than nuns, and even with only one arm and one leg, he could help to keep curious fingers from fire and electric outlets. So he stayed in the little run down church, even though the only other thing he remembered was that he did not believe in god.
**
"I didn't do it!"
"HE started it!"
Al gave the two arguing boys a glare and they gulped and quieted. "I don't
care who started it, you can hash it out with Sister Mary when she comes back.
But if this place isn't cleaned up by then, neither of you will get dessert,
got it?"
"Yes, Al..." They grumbled under their breath.
Al rolled his eyes and was just reaching for his crutch when Sister Rose stuck
her head into the doorway, her expression slightly worried. "Al, I think
Joey broke his train again," faint wailing could be heard through the
thin walls, coming from the front yard. "Can you go check?"
He was the one that fixed it twice before, after all. Al nodded and got up. "I'll
go. You two, better get to working."
**
He was almost out of the front door when the crying faded, then stopped. "What's
the matter?" an unfamiliar but kind sounding voice asked.
"My train broke." Joey's voice floated back to him, complete with a
small sniffle. "See?"
He took a step forward, then leaned against the doorframe and watched the going-ons.
The sandy-haired stranger carefully took Joey's train in his hands and examined
it. Both Al and Joey watched with interest when the man reached into his pocket
and took out a piece of chalk, then proceeded to draw an elaborate looking
circle on the sidewalk. Once that was done, the stranger set the train down
in the middle along with the broken wheel, and gave Joey a smile.
"It'll make a loud noise for a second, but don't be scared, okay?"
As promised, one loud noise and flash of brilliant white light later,
the smoke cleared and the train was whole again. Joey gasped in awe and
Al raised an eyebrow.
"Wow, mister, are you a ma-ji-shan?" Joey asked with wide eyes as Al
pushed himself off the doorframe. The stranger shook his head.
"It's called alchemy."
"Al-ke-mee," Joey repeated.
"Joey," Al called, drawing their attention to him. He dismissed the
look of shock on the stranger's face as part of the normal reaction to people
seeing him and his missing limbs. "You're forgetting something. What do
you say?"
"Thank you for fixing my train." Joey said obediently, and bowed before
laughing and running off. "My train's all fixed, Al!" The boy held
up the said toy and Al made the obligatory affirmative noises.
"Go inside and show Sister Rose." The stranger's mouth was moving as
if he wanted to say something, but could not. Al could not help but feel irritated,
it was quite unnerving to be stared at . But still, the guy had saved him some
trouble, so he squished down the irritation and tried to look friendly. "Joey's
really attached to that train, so thanks for fixing it." He was still being
stared at, and it was starting to graduate to the level of being uncomfortable. "Is
there something on my face?"
And the stranger only stared at him and whispered, "Nii-san."
**
(Roy)
A man with black hair and eyes from the military had visited the church,
the nuns told him, and spoke with his brother at length. He had left without
saying anything else, without answering their questions. They didn't remember
his name or rank but they remembered the silver State Alchemist watch at
his belt and the transmutation circles on his gloves.
Al knew the Flame Alchemist must have had his reasons--extremely good reasons--but
he could not help but feel a bit of hate for Roy Mustang who did not tell him
where his brother was even after he found him.
Later, he would realize it was for the best and reconcile himself with the
fact, and not strangle the man when they meet again. But that would be later,
and now it took both Winry and his brother to convince him to not go out on
a fool's errand to track down the Colonel--or was he even more highly ranked
now?--and yell at him, like Ed used to do.
**
(on Alchemy)
Winry had seen the same thing in people who had survived serious head
injuries. Modern science still was not advanced enough to completely understand
every complexity of the brain and its functions, and there seemed to be
no cure. Ed could, most of the time, draw out a perfectly good transmutation
array--according to Al, anyway--but seemed unable to actually perform any
alchemy, even after she outfitted him with new automail for his missing
limbs and relearning everything.
Sometimes, when she went downstairs to get something from her workshop late
at night, she would see a light on in his room and peek in the crack of the
door. Ed would be sitting cross-legged on the ground with his back to her,
an array on the ground in front of him, drawn in chalk. Sometimes he would
still be staring at it when she left quietly, sometimes he would reach out
with his human and and wipe away the lines.
When she asked, he would shake his head and smile. And say it was just a part
of the principle of Equivalent Trade.
**
(on the home where family is waiting)
His brother went back to the church to visit after his new automail was
fitted, and even though he knew it was a childish and stupid thing to do,
he worried. Discreetly, he would stare out at the roads when he was closing
the automail and alchemy shop, searching for the thin, lone figure walking
down the hill to the Rockbell's.
Winry did not say anything, but gave him encouraging smiles and hot chocolate
when he came back in. The winter was nearer now and he forgot the cold until
he was inside again, where the warm drink was gratefully accepted.
He could not help but wonder if he was being selfish again. His brother had
already given up an arm to save his soul, his memories and ability to use alchemy
to return his body. Was he being selfish in wanting his brother with him, even
now, when there might possibly be others that his brother wished to return
to? Would his brother resent him?
It was not long before that thought was dragged out of him by Winry. There
was nothing quite like being forced to spill your guts while held at wrench-point,
he had to admit, just like there was no one quite like their childhood friend.
"You idiot." Winry had pronounced with the air of one long used to
dealing with idiots. "Ed might not remember everything, but he remembers
enough. He'll return, for sure."
Since the wrench had been put away, he felt it safe to ask, "But how do
you know?"
"Because to him, home is where you are."
**