Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ A Forgotten Memory ❯ Chapter 2: Reunited ( Chapter 2 )
[ A - All Readers ]
By: LadyRiona 
Six months after 'that day,' the Elrics are finally reunited. But there's something wrong...Isabel isn't speaking as much. Why? What caused this lack of speech?
Anime/Manga: Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.07.2005 | Pages: 6 | Words: 9.0K | Visits: 240 | Status: Completed
Six months after 'that day,' the Elrics are finally reunited. But there's something wrong...Isabel isn't speaking as much. Why? What caused this lack of speech?
Anime/Manga: Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.07.2005 | Pages: 6 | Words: 9.0K | Visits: 240 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own FMA. Probably never will.
A/N: In case you haven't noticed, this is going between flashbacks of that dayand the present time in Amestris. Just thought I'd point that out.
Chapter 2-Reunited
“I'll go talk to him,” Winry said and started to stand.
Isabel beat her to the punch, though. “No, I think I should go. After all…it's kind of my fault,” she said, shrugging. She was out the door before anyone could protest.
It took the eldest Elric a while to find her younger brother. She looked around at all of their old favorite places. When she came to the site of her house, she was surprised to see the ashes and remains of the building. For some reason, Isabel knew the boys had done that. She couldn't blame Ed and Al, though, for doing it, but she didn't understand why. Isabel finally came across Ed at the river. He was transmuting the ground into rocks and skipping them along the water surface. When he sensed her watching him, he turned.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
Isabel winced, but came down to the river's edge with him. “I'm sorry,” she murmured. “It's probably a shock to you.”
“What, some crazy person claiming to be a sister I barely remember having?” he assumed.
She picked up a rock and tossed it in the air a few times. “But you do remember me,” Isabel said quietly.
Ed tossed the rock with a greater amount of force and it skipped a few times before finally going below the surface. “Of course I remember you! You left me and Al when you were only eight!” he said loudly. “Why wouldn't I remember someone who did that to me?”
With a little shrug, she looked at the rock thoughtfully. “It couldn't be helped.” This wasn't how she had imagined the day to go, exactly.
“Why?” Ed turned to look at her.
It took a little while for Isabel to respond. During the moments of silence, she put both hands around the rock and blue light surrounded it for a moment. When she opened her hands, the rock had been changed to a duplicate of the Nationally Certified Alchemists' silver watch. “I can't tell you yet,” she said. “Maybe another time, but not now.”
Ed looked at the replica and sighed. “Why can't you tell me?”
Isabel chuckled a little. “You're just as persistent as you were when we were younger.” She sobered again and took Ed's left hand. “I can't tell you because you aren't ready to hear it yet,” she told him and put the stone into his hand.
Hopefully he saw her previous statement as an end to the conversation and wasn't just trying to coax her into telling him why because he changed the subject. “Are you a State Alchemist as well?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No. I have done some work with the military, though, as a civilian. I worked with a few alchemists along the way,” Isabel said. “Some of them were really powerful and seemed to do alchemy without a circle. Others had to be covered by others while they drew an array on something.”
“What did you do?” Ed asked and put the stone in his pocket.
Isabel held out her wrists. “I covered sometimes. Mostly, I'd do my own thing since I wasn't bound by orders,” she explained. “Your one of them, aren't you?”
“A State Alchemist? Yeah.” He pulled out the silver clock from his other pocket and showed her.
“Is it an actual clock, or is it just an amplifier? I never got close enough to one to see,” she said.
Ed nodded. “It's a clock, too. Al and I don't use it often, though. We've learned to tell time from the position of the sun. It's normally just for show,” he informed her.
Isabel nodded and sat down. She looked out over the hills and smiled. “I'm glad I decided to come back when I did,” she murmured and shut her eyes.
------------------------
It had been about an hour since Isabel and Riza had come back from shopping. Isabel was feeling a little uneasy as she sat on Mustang's couch. She smoothed her black skirt down busily then poked at a loose string on her blouse. Obviously her nervousness showed from Mustang's comment.
“That string is not going to get any better if you keep pulling it,” he told her. Had she really been tugging on it that much?
“Sorry,” she whispered.
A/N: In case you haven't noticed, this is going between flashbacks of that dayand the present time in Amestris. Just thought I'd point that out.
Chapter 2-Reunited
“I'll go talk to him,” Winry said and started to stand.
Isabel beat her to the punch, though. “No, I think I should go. After all…it's kind of my fault,” she said, shrugging. She was out the door before anyone could protest.
It took the eldest Elric a while to find her younger brother. She looked around at all of their old favorite places. When she came to the site of her house, she was surprised to see the ashes and remains of the building. For some reason, Isabel knew the boys had done that. She couldn't blame Ed and Al, though, for doing it, but she didn't understand why. Isabel finally came across Ed at the river. He was transmuting the ground into rocks and skipping them along the water surface. When he sensed her watching him, he turned.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
Isabel winced, but came down to the river's edge with him. “I'm sorry,” she murmured. “It's probably a shock to you.”
“What, some crazy person claiming to be a sister I barely remember having?” he assumed.
She picked up a rock and tossed it in the air a few times. “But you do remember me,” Isabel said quietly.
Ed tossed the rock with a greater amount of force and it skipped a few times before finally going below the surface. “Of course I remember you! You left me and Al when you were only eight!” he said loudly. “Why wouldn't I remember someone who did that to me?”
With a little shrug, she looked at the rock thoughtfully. “It couldn't be helped.” This wasn't how she had imagined the day to go, exactly.
“Why?” Ed turned to look at her.
It took a little while for Isabel to respond. During the moments of silence, she put both hands around the rock and blue light surrounded it for a moment. When she opened her hands, the rock had been changed to a duplicate of the Nationally Certified Alchemists' silver watch. “I can't tell you yet,” she said. “Maybe another time, but not now.”
Ed looked at the replica and sighed. “Why can't you tell me?”
Isabel chuckled a little. “You're just as persistent as you were when we were younger.” She sobered again and took Ed's left hand. “I can't tell you because you aren't ready to hear it yet,” she told him and put the stone into his hand.
Hopefully he saw her previous statement as an end to the conversation and wasn't just trying to coax her into telling him why because he changed the subject. “Are you a State Alchemist as well?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No. I have done some work with the military, though, as a civilian. I worked with a few alchemists along the way,” Isabel said. “Some of them were really powerful and seemed to do alchemy without a circle. Others had to be covered by others while they drew an array on something.”
“What did you do?” Ed asked and put the stone in his pocket.
Isabel held out her wrists. “I covered sometimes. Mostly, I'd do my own thing since I wasn't bound by orders,” she explained. “Your one of them, aren't you?”
“A State Alchemist? Yeah.” He pulled out the silver clock from his other pocket and showed her.
“Is it an actual clock, or is it just an amplifier? I never got close enough to one to see,” she said.
Ed nodded. “It's a clock, too. Al and I don't use it often, though. We've learned to tell time from the position of the sun. It's normally just for show,” he informed her.
Isabel nodded and sat down. She looked out over the hills and smiled. “I'm glad I decided to come back when I did,” she murmured and shut her eyes.
------------------------
It had been about an hour since Isabel and Riza had come back from shopping. Isabel was feeling a little uneasy as she sat on Mustang's couch. She smoothed her black skirt down busily then poked at a loose string on her blouse. Obviously her nervousness showed from Mustang's comment.
“That string is not going to get any better if you keep pulling it,” he told her. Had she really been tugging on it that much?
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“It's fine, though I don't think Hawkeye will appreciate it if you ruin the shirt she just bought you because of nervous energy,” he pointed out.
Isabel nodded. “I guess not.” She was talking a little more now, but hardly more than five syllables at a time. Mostly, she'd forget to say yes or no and just shake her head if Mustang or Riza asked her something.
“They should be here soon,” the colonel said. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his neck. “Don't look so sad.”
She shrugged and looked down at her folded hands. Why had she let herself become so shy? Wouldn't it have been easier for her to keep her hotheadedness while she'd been in the psychiatric ward? If she'd spoken her mind, then maybe she would have been more confident now. Instead, she dreaded when attention was set on her. And that was just what was happening to her in a few short minutes. But didn't she want this attention? Didn't she want to see her brother's again? God knew she did, and everyone else for that matter.
There was a bit of a commotion down the hall. Isabel looked up, but Mustang didn't seem to notice it. She dismissed it, as well, to be something that didn't concern her or her past. She looked up at the ceiling and thought. What would it be like? Would it be a happy moment, filled with hugs? Or would it be a sobered moment where everyone was distant? Would they even come? Would they care that she was alive?
Of course they would! She mentally shook herself. She was their sister! Why wouldn't they care if she were alive? How could she have even thought of something so unfair for herself? They would care. If they didn't, then she didn't need them anyway, right?
The seconds seemed to pass like minutes, and the minutes like hours when Mustang finally looked up at his door. Obviously, he had heard the disruptions outside in the hall. A few moments after that, the doors opened wide and a group of four people walked in. There was an extremely tall, extremely muscular person in the back. A suit of armor stood out secondly. A young girl, probably around fifteen, was standing behind a boy a little shorter than she. His blond hair was braided and his gold eyes searched the room.
When Ed's gaze fell on Isabel, she smiled shakily and stood up. He rushed over to her and they stood nose-to-nose. A trace of satisfaction came into his eyes, but only briefly. Ed looked hard at Isabel before finally embracing her tightly. She couldn't help the same reaction. Her hands shook as she wrapped her arms around her brother.
They broke apart after that and Isabel went to Al. She hugged him best she could, and then stood before Winry. The two girls hadn't really gotten along the best when they had been younger. Some of the childish hostility may have carried through the years and Isabel wasn't sure how to handle it. But when Winry embraced her, Isabel knew there weren't any hard feelings.
Colonel Mustang sat and watched the entire ordeal. Major Armstrong came and stood beside his desk, but the colonel hardly noticed. He was amazed at the sudden change in Isabel's disposition when she was around her family.
“It's a wonderful thing, isn't it? The power of family?” Armstrong said, watching them as well. His sparkles were showing more than ever, but the colonel ignored him.
Mustang nodded. “Yeah. And to think, she had been sitting on that couch there, nervous as anything.” He smirked. “Hopefully she'll be the Isabel that they knew six months ago.”
“Colonel?”
He sat up straighter and shook his head. “Nothing.” He saluted the major. “As you were.”
Armstrong saluted as well and left. Colonel Mustang sighed a little and went back to his paperwork. He normally steered clear of such tasks as long as possible, but this was important. These held facts about the mysterious girl standing on the other side of the room. His report would explain in as few words as he could of what she'd told him about the past six months.
--------------------------
Ed, Al, Winry, and Isabel all sat on the grass in the park. They were a few blocks away from the headquarters building, and Ed was painfully aware of the few guards that were hovering around, trying not to be seen. What business did they have sticking their noses where they didn't belong? None, and Ed was very close to enunciating that point verbally.
“Edward?” Winry said, touching his hand.
Reflexively, he took his hand from under hers and brought it to his chest. “Yes?”
“You looked…distant,” she murmured.
He looked at Isabel and shrugged. “So does she.” Although it wasn't really a valid excuse, it was an excuse all the same. Ed didn't want Winry to know what he'd been thinking about; he didn't want her to get involved with the military more than she was already, associating with him.
“She's been through a lot, Edward,” Winry told him, quietly still. “She has a right to be distant. Wouldn't you be too if you…you know?” She couldn't finish. Just like Winry to be sheepish about other problems that were too big for her to confront on her own.
Ed stood up. “I'm gonna walk,” he announced. “Isabel, do you want to come with me?” he asked her.
Isabel looked up and nodded. She even attempted a slight smile as she stood to join him. They walked a little ways, leaving Winry and Alphonse to themselves. When the two siblings reached the far end of the park, Isabel sat down on a bench and stared off into the sky. Ed stood a little to the side before sighing.
It had been bothering him all day. Why had she never tried to contact him? Even if she hadn't been allowed to, if she'd tried hard enough, then she could have gotten a letter sent at least. She could have managed some word to one of the visiting military officials, right? Just because she didn't talk much now didn't mean had she stopped talking then, right? But what really irked him was the fact she refused to talk so much to anyone! Didn't she care that people were worried about her? Didn't she care that people wanted to know what was on her mind to help her?
“Isabel?” he asked quietly, sitting beside her.
“Yes, Ed?” She looked at him softly. The expression on her face, the pure sister-like way she looked at him made him drop the carefully planned façade of arrogance and assume the fear he really felt.
He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Why don't you talk much anymore?” he asked, jumping right to the point. If he hadn't been so undone the he would have approached the matter more tactfully.
Her silence was enough. She was thinking of a good way to put it. She pulled her hand through her golden hair the same way he did when he let it down and was thinking. They were so alike; their eyes and hair were the same color, they were the same height, and their attitude and disposition were so much the same. Or they had been. While she had been a fiery, quick-tempered girl, eager to get into anything fun or troublesome, she was now a meek, shy child. Even though she was older, Ed could tell she looked up to him more than she used to when they had been younger. Why had this happened? Why had she changed? Who had caused her to?
“I…stopped talking when I was in Dublith,” she murmured. Ed started, surprised that she had given up words. “There was no use to let them know that I was thinking about using alchemy to escape all the time, was there? If they knew what went on in my head, then they probably would have tried to take my tattoos off.” She shrugged. “Also, I didn't see a reason in talking to anyone there. There were crazy people, ex-military personnel, and then people who didn't have a thing wrong with them. There was no reason for me to become like them. If I resigned and talked to the psychiatric personnel, then it was like I had given up and given into the fact that no one was going to save me. Then there was the colonel.” She smirked a little.
“Ah yes, the colonel,” Ed growled. “Why didn't you try to write?” he asked, the slightest bit of hurt tainting his voice.
“I tried, Ed, I really did. For the first few weeks, I tried to get a letter out. I would write them during my sessions, steal an envelope and stamps, and then give it to the janitor to send. The next day, someone would come and talk to me about trying to contact the outside world. They told me everyone thought I was dead, that no one cared.” Her voice started to catch. “After a while, I just gave up on trying to write anybody. If I was meant to get out, then a way would present itself.”
He nodded a little. There was logic, but he was still a little hurt that she'd given up on writing.
When neither of them seemed to be willing to speak, Isabel felt a need to break the silence. A strange occurrence she admitted to herself, but she wanted to know something. She looked at Ed a little uneasily. “What happened to Al?” she asked. “I know there's nothing in that suit.” She bit her lip immediately.
Ed winced a little, but leaned forward. “It's our punishment,” he said. “We…did something very wrong about four years after you left us. I was eleven, and Al was ten. Mom had died about a year before.” He swallowed. “We tried to perform a human transmutation, but failed. In the equivalent trade, Al lost his body and I…I lost…”
“Your arm and leg?” she finished for him. He nodded. “Will you let me see?”
Isabel nodded. “I guess not.” She was talking a little more now, but hardly more than five syllables at a time. Mostly, she'd forget to say yes or no and just shake her head if Mustang or Riza asked her something.
“They should be here soon,” the colonel said. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his neck. “Don't look so sad.”
She shrugged and looked down at her folded hands. Why had she let herself become so shy? Wouldn't it have been easier for her to keep her hotheadedness while she'd been in the psychiatric ward? If she'd spoken her mind, then maybe she would have been more confident now. Instead, she dreaded when attention was set on her. And that was just what was happening to her in a few short minutes. But didn't she want this attention? Didn't she want to see her brother's again? God knew she did, and everyone else for that matter.
There was a bit of a commotion down the hall. Isabel looked up, but Mustang didn't seem to notice it. She dismissed it, as well, to be something that didn't concern her or her past. She looked up at the ceiling and thought. What would it be like? Would it be a happy moment, filled with hugs? Or would it be a sobered moment where everyone was distant? Would they even come? Would they care that she was alive?
Of course they would! She mentally shook herself. She was their sister! Why wouldn't they care if she were alive? How could she have even thought of something so unfair for herself? They would care. If they didn't, then she didn't need them anyway, right?
The seconds seemed to pass like minutes, and the minutes like hours when Mustang finally looked up at his door. Obviously, he had heard the disruptions outside in the hall. A few moments after that, the doors opened wide and a group of four people walked in. There was an extremely tall, extremely muscular person in the back. A suit of armor stood out secondly. A young girl, probably around fifteen, was standing behind a boy a little shorter than she. His blond hair was braided and his gold eyes searched the room.
When Ed's gaze fell on Isabel, she smiled shakily and stood up. He rushed over to her and they stood nose-to-nose. A trace of satisfaction came into his eyes, but only briefly. Ed looked hard at Isabel before finally embracing her tightly. She couldn't help the same reaction. Her hands shook as she wrapped her arms around her brother.
They broke apart after that and Isabel went to Al. She hugged him best she could, and then stood before Winry. The two girls hadn't really gotten along the best when they had been younger. Some of the childish hostility may have carried through the years and Isabel wasn't sure how to handle it. But when Winry embraced her, Isabel knew there weren't any hard feelings.
Colonel Mustang sat and watched the entire ordeal. Major Armstrong came and stood beside his desk, but the colonel hardly noticed. He was amazed at the sudden change in Isabel's disposition when she was around her family.
“It's a wonderful thing, isn't it? The power of family?” Armstrong said, watching them as well. His sparkles were showing more than ever, but the colonel ignored him.
Mustang nodded. “Yeah. And to think, she had been sitting on that couch there, nervous as anything.” He smirked. “Hopefully she'll be the Isabel that they knew six months ago.”
“Colonel?”
He sat up straighter and shook his head. “Nothing.” He saluted the major. “As you were.”
Armstrong saluted as well and left. Colonel Mustang sighed a little and went back to his paperwork. He normally steered clear of such tasks as long as possible, but this was important. These held facts about the mysterious girl standing on the other side of the room. His report would explain in as few words as he could of what she'd told him about the past six months.
--------------------------
Ed, Al, Winry, and Isabel all sat on the grass in the park. They were a few blocks away from the headquarters building, and Ed was painfully aware of the few guards that were hovering around, trying not to be seen. What business did they have sticking their noses where they didn't belong? None, and Ed was very close to enunciating that point verbally.
“Edward?” Winry said, touching his hand.
Reflexively, he took his hand from under hers and brought it to his chest. “Yes?”
“You looked…distant,” she murmured.
He looked at Isabel and shrugged. “So does she.” Although it wasn't really a valid excuse, it was an excuse all the same. Ed didn't want Winry to know what he'd been thinking about; he didn't want her to get involved with the military more than she was already, associating with him.
“She's been through a lot, Edward,” Winry told him, quietly still. “She has a right to be distant. Wouldn't you be too if you…you know?” She couldn't finish. Just like Winry to be sheepish about other problems that were too big for her to confront on her own.
Ed stood up. “I'm gonna walk,” he announced. “Isabel, do you want to come with me?” he asked her.
Isabel looked up and nodded. She even attempted a slight smile as she stood to join him. They walked a little ways, leaving Winry and Alphonse to themselves. When the two siblings reached the far end of the park, Isabel sat down on a bench and stared off into the sky. Ed stood a little to the side before sighing.
It had been bothering him all day. Why had she never tried to contact him? Even if she hadn't been allowed to, if she'd tried hard enough, then she could have gotten a letter sent at least. She could have managed some word to one of the visiting military officials, right? Just because she didn't talk much now didn't mean had she stopped talking then, right? But what really irked him was the fact she refused to talk so much to anyone! Didn't she care that people were worried about her? Didn't she care that people wanted to know what was on her mind to help her?
“Isabel?” he asked quietly, sitting beside her.
“Yes, Ed?” She looked at him softly. The expression on her face, the pure sister-like way she looked at him made him drop the carefully planned façade of arrogance and assume the fear he really felt.
He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Why don't you talk much anymore?” he asked, jumping right to the point. If he hadn't been so undone the he would have approached the matter more tactfully.
Her silence was enough. She was thinking of a good way to put it. She pulled her hand through her golden hair the same way he did when he let it down and was thinking. They were so alike; their eyes and hair were the same color, they were the same height, and their attitude and disposition were so much the same. Or they had been. While she had been a fiery, quick-tempered girl, eager to get into anything fun or troublesome, she was now a meek, shy child. Even though she was older, Ed could tell she looked up to him more than she used to when they had been younger. Why had this happened? Why had she changed? Who had caused her to?
“I…stopped talking when I was in Dublith,” she murmured. Ed started, surprised that she had given up words. “There was no use to let them know that I was thinking about using alchemy to escape all the time, was there? If they knew what went on in my head, then they probably would have tried to take my tattoos off.” She shrugged. “Also, I didn't see a reason in talking to anyone there. There were crazy people, ex-military personnel, and then people who didn't have a thing wrong with them. There was no reason for me to become like them. If I resigned and talked to the psychiatric personnel, then it was like I had given up and given into the fact that no one was going to save me. Then there was the colonel.” She smirked a little.
“Ah yes, the colonel,” Ed growled. “Why didn't you try to write?” he asked, the slightest bit of hurt tainting his voice.
“I tried, Ed, I really did. For the first few weeks, I tried to get a letter out. I would write them during my sessions, steal an envelope and stamps, and then give it to the janitor to send. The next day, someone would come and talk to me about trying to contact the outside world. They told me everyone thought I was dead, that no one cared.” Her voice started to catch. “After a while, I just gave up on trying to write anybody. If I was meant to get out, then a way would present itself.”
He nodded a little. There was logic, but he was still a little hurt that she'd given up on writing.
When neither of them seemed to be willing to speak, Isabel felt a need to break the silence. A strange occurrence she admitted to herself, but she wanted to know something. She looked at Ed a little uneasily. “What happened to Al?” she asked. “I know there's nothing in that suit.” She bit her lip immediately.
Ed winced a little, but leaned forward. “It's our punishment,” he said. “We…did something very wrong about four years after you left us. I was eleven, and Al was ten. Mom had died about a year before.” He swallowed. “We tried to perform a human transmutation, but failed. In the equivalent trade, Al lost his body and I…I lost…”
“Your arm and leg?” she finished for him. He nodded. “Will you let me see?”
Hesitantly, Ed held out his right arm to her. Isabel took his glove off, set it on her leg and began to survey the auto-mail. Winry had done a fine job, he thought to himself, repairing it so many times. Occasionally, she would have to put a new plate on it. On those occurrences, he was sure to be scarce after it for a while.
“Does it ever hurt?” Isabel asked. Suddenly, a wave of déjà vu washed over her.
“Does it ever hurt?” Isabel asked. Suddenly, a wave of déjà vu washed over her.
He thought a moment. “Sometimes. It'll stretch the skin on my shoulder if I over extend it. Other than that, no.”
Isabel nodded and intently examined his arm. This gave him a chance to look her over. She had changed a lot since he'd last seen her. Her gold locks were a little longer than his. She might have been a little taller, but he wasn't going to dwell on that. What he really noticed was her eyes. Yes, the rest of her face appeared tired, but her eyes looked so exhausted. Her fatigue was painfully obvious in her gold orbs.
“Ed?”
“Did the military tattoo your wrists a long time ago, or did you do it independently?” he asked, shrugging off her concern. He glanced down at his metal arm. She had replaced his glove and was holding his hand now.
“The military did them. They had to sedate me, though.” She smiled timidly. “Can you still perform alchemy without a circle?” Isabel wanted to know.
Ed nodded. He looked around, anxiously before he stood. “Watch,” the boy said and clapped his hands together. He reached out a touched a tree. A moment later, it changed to a lemonade stand.
“Practical,” she told him. They lapsed into silence once more. Isabel was curious about something, but too shy, now, to say anything about it.
It was Ed's turn to break the silence. “I, uh, still have that replica of the State Alchemist watch,” he said, digging in his pocket for it. After a moment, he handed it to Isabel and sat down.
Memories suddenly engulfed her mind as soon as she touched the stone.
-------------------------
Edward and Isabel walked up from the riverbank. It was probably a little after one o'clock, but Auntie would have some stew left for them. Well, at least for Ed, since he hadn't eaten anything yet. When the house came into view, Armstrong and Al could be seen training. Isabel recognized the gleam of anticipation in her brother's eyes.
“Go train, and show me what you've got,” she said, giving him a gently nudge in that direction.
Ed didn't hesitate. He smiled brightly and then ran the rest of the way so he could intercept the major's blow at Al. Isabel kept her pace. When she was a few feet away, she sat on the fence to watch. For a few minutes, Armstrong had the upper hand until the brothers came at him at once. In what seemed like mere seconds, the much bigger man was flat on his back, a crater contoured to his large body. Isabel had to replay the moment to note how it had happened.
Armstrong had just slammed Al onto the ground when Ed reappeared again after his brother's titanic-like blow. The brothers exchanged looks and nodded to each other before staging their attack.
Al went straight to Major Armstrong so their hands were locked together. Neither could move. Ed slid between Al's ankles, his metal leg outstretched. The Fullmetal Alchemist's foot connected with Armstrong's, causing the bigger man to lose balance. Al immediately started to pull Armstrong over his shoulder.
There was a huge crash that shook the earth. Isabel held onto the fence to keep from falling off. When things stilled, she looked at Ed and Al. The youngest was just standing up straighter. He and Ed exchanged looks again before they broke into a victory dance.
“Yes!” they shouted in unison.
“We did it, Al!” Ed shouted. Then they paused.
Ed and Al looked at their sister simultaneously. She nodded her praise to him and smiled. Just as she was going to voice her opinion, Winry stepped out of the house. She looked at Ed, at Al, at the semi-unconscious Armstrong, at Isabel, and then back at Ed. Her face immediately contorted into fury. “Edward!” she yelled shrilly.
Ed's eyes widened in shock. Very arrogantly, he turned around to glare at her. “What?” he shouted back. But he regretted his tone as soon as he caught sight of her expression. He took a couple steps back, but it was useless. Winry advanced on her prey and seized his arm. The boy struggled but Winry's grasp was too strong to break out of.
“What did I do?” Ed was yelling as Winry dragged him into the house.
“You damaged your arm already!” she screeched. “You idiot!”
“I did not damage it!”
“Yes, you did, you little bean!”
“I am not a bean! Who are you calling a bean!”
Isabel and Al exchanged flustered looks as the two disappeared but could still be heard. “Uh, do they usually do that?” Isabel asked.
Al nodded. “Sometimes it's worse.”
She shivered in fear of how “worse” could play out.
Suddenly, the yelling couldn't be heard anymore. Isabel looked at the house and said, “Maybe I should go see if they killed each other.” She slipped off the fence and started toward the house. She tried to be quiet coming in, but the door creaked when she opened and shut it. With the stealth that had helped her win many battles in the wars she'd helped in, she crept to the living room. She almost gasped when she peeked in.
Winry was working fervently on Ed's arm. That wasn't too surprising. Ed's expression was, however. Her brother, the one person who could happily live without touching anyone or being touched, who would never depend on someone voluntarily, was sitting on the floor almost quietly. His face was peaceful as Winry poked around his shoulder with a screwdriver. Every now and then, she would push his hair away or her hand would brush his shoulder, just at the edge of his auto-mail. From what Isabel remembered about Ed, and from what she'd heard that day, he hardly ever appreciated physical contact.
Yet here he was, enjoying his mechanic's touch. What a situation.
Isabel silently excused herself and went to sit on the porch. Winry's dog, Den, came up to her and nudged her hand. She scratched Den's head idly for a moment, mulling things over.
It'd been nine years since she left. Things hadn't changed much, except for Ed and Al. And herself, of course. The military did strange things to your mind. Granted, Al wasn't a dog of the military, but he was around them and Ed enough to be affected by it. Ed was a State Alchemist and was given orders frequently. Isabel did things independently and when she saw something worth doing. That was usually rare, but during her lack of interest, the military normally found something to keep her busy. Why let a perfectly good alchemist go to waste?
It must have been a while later when she came back to earth from her absently placed thoughts. Ed was nudging her side with his foot and holding out a bowl to her. His stew was already half-eaten.
“Thanks,” she murmured and took the bowl from him.
Ed sat down next to her to finish his stew. “So,” he sighed.
“Can you…can you feel your arm at all?” Isabel asked. She immediately took a bite of her food so she couldn't repeat herself.
He smirked a little and finished chewing. “Not really, no. It give me an advantage in battles,” he told her. “When Al and I were in Lior, looking for the Philosopher's Stone—”
“The Stone?”
Ed nodded. “We encountered a man, posing as a reverend. He had created a chimera from a lion and a great lizard. Well, it bit my arm and I could have cared less!” he exclaimed proudly.
“Why are you searching for the Stone?” Isabel wanted to know.
With a sigh, the boy leaned back onto his hands, his bowl empty already. “We've been searching for it for three years,” he evaded answering quietly. “We haven't found anything but dead ends and empty clues. We want to increase the power of our alchemy for…specific reasons.”
Isabel nodded, more to herself than to Ed. She halfway understood why he didn't want to tell her everything yet. She wasn't sure she could tell him things about her life yet, either. But, in a sisterly way, she reached back and touched his hand—his real hand. She was afraid he would shirk away, but she knew that even just the gesture would mean something to him, even if he couldn't accept her touch.
But surprisingly, he didn't pull his hand away from her. He smiled at her briefly before he went off into his own world.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm sorry I left you and Al.”
------------------------
“Isabel?”
Ed's voice brought her back. At his curious look, she shook her head. “Nothing, just idle thoughts,” she told him and finished examining the stone. “Nothing really important.”
Suddenly, lightning cracked the sky in the distance. Ed stood up and nodded. “We should be going,” he said.
Isabel nodded as and stood as well. Just as she did, though, a fat raindrop fell onto her nose.
“Winry'll kill me if my auto-mail gets too wet,” she heard him mumble vaguely.
“She really cares for you, Ed,” Isabel told him.
“No, she's just worried about her precious auto-mail,” Ed grumbled, as though he regretted that.
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Come on, little brother,” she cajoled. She could literally feel her old disposition emerging out from the dusty case she'd ruthlessly shoved it into. “Stop kidding yourself. Haven't you seen her face when she's fixing your auto-mail?”
He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “she's pissed.”
Isabel nodded and intently examined his arm. This gave him a chance to look her over. She had changed a lot since he'd last seen her. Her gold locks were a little longer than his. She might have been a little taller, but he wasn't going to dwell on that. What he really noticed was her eyes. Yes, the rest of her face appeared tired, but her eyes looked so exhausted. Her fatigue was painfully obvious in her gold orbs.
“Ed?”
“Did the military tattoo your wrists a long time ago, or did you do it independently?” he asked, shrugging off her concern. He glanced down at his metal arm. She had replaced his glove and was holding his hand now.
“The military did them. They had to sedate me, though.” She smiled timidly. “Can you still perform alchemy without a circle?” Isabel wanted to know.
Ed nodded. He looked around, anxiously before he stood. “Watch,” the boy said and clapped his hands together. He reached out a touched a tree. A moment later, it changed to a lemonade stand.
“Practical,” she told him. They lapsed into silence once more. Isabel was curious about something, but too shy, now, to say anything about it.
It was Ed's turn to break the silence. “I, uh, still have that replica of the State Alchemist watch,” he said, digging in his pocket for it. After a moment, he handed it to Isabel and sat down.
Memories suddenly engulfed her mind as soon as she touched the stone.
-------------------------
Edward and Isabel walked up from the riverbank. It was probably a little after one o'clock, but Auntie would have some stew left for them. Well, at least for Ed, since he hadn't eaten anything yet. When the house came into view, Armstrong and Al could be seen training. Isabel recognized the gleam of anticipation in her brother's eyes.
“Go train, and show me what you've got,” she said, giving him a gently nudge in that direction.
Ed didn't hesitate. He smiled brightly and then ran the rest of the way so he could intercept the major's blow at Al. Isabel kept her pace. When she was a few feet away, she sat on the fence to watch. For a few minutes, Armstrong had the upper hand until the brothers came at him at once. In what seemed like mere seconds, the much bigger man was flat on his back, a crater contoured to his large body. Isabel had to replay the moment to note how it had happened.
Armstrong had just slammed Al onto the ground when Ed reappeared again after his brother's titanic-like blow. The brothers exchanged looks and nodded to each other before staging their attack.
Al went straight to Major Armstrong so their hands were locked together. Neither could move. Ed slid between Al's ankles, his metal leg outstretched. The Fullmetal Alchemist's foot connected with Armstrong's, causing the bigger man to lose balance. Al immediately started to pull Armstrong over his shoulder.
There was a huge crash that shook the earth. Isabel held onto the fence to keep from falling off. When things stilled, she looked at Ed and Al. The youngest was just standing up straighter. He and Ed exchanged looks again before they broke into a victory dance.
“Yes!” they shouted in unison.
“We did it, Al!” Ed shouted. Then they paused.
Ed and Al looked at their sister simultaneously. She nodded her praise to him and smiled. Just as she was going to voice her opinion, Winry stepped out of the house. She looked at Ed, at Al, at the semi-unconscious Armstrong, at Isabel, and then back at Ed. Her face immediately contorted into fury. “Edward!” she yelled shrilly.
Ed's eyes widened in shock. Very arrogantly, he turned around to glare at her. “What?” he shouted back. But he regretted his tone as soon as he caught sight of her expression. He took a couple steps back, but it was useless. Winry advanced on her prey and seized his arm. The boy struggled but Winry's grasp was too strong to break out of.
“What did I do?” Ed was yelling as Winry dragged him into the house.
“You damaged your arm already!” she screeched. “You idiot!”
“I did not damage it!”
“Yes, you did, you little bean!”
“I am not a bean! Who are you calling a bean!”
Isabel and Al exchanged flustered looks as the two disappeared but could still be heard. “Uh, do they usually do that?” Isabel asked.
Al nodded. “Sometimes it's worse.”
She shivered in fear of how “worse” could play out.
Suddenly, the yelling couldn't be heard anymore. Isabel looked at the house and said, “Maybe I should go see if they killed each other.” She slipped off the fence and started toward the house. She tried to be quiet coming in, but the door creaked when she opened and shut it. With the stealth that had helped her win many battles in the wars she'd helped in, she crept to the living room. She almost gasped when she peeked in.
Winry was working fervently on Ed's arm. That wasn't too surprising. Ed's expression was, however. Her brother, the one person who could happily live without touching anyone or being touched, who would never depend on someone voluntarily, was sitting on the floor almost quietly. His face was peaceful as Winry poked around his shoulder with a screwdriver. Every now and then, she would push his hair away or her hand would brush his shoulder, just at the edge of his auto-mail. From what Isabel remembered about Ed, and from what she'd heard that day, he hardly ever appreciated physical contact.
Yet here he was, enjoying his mechanic's touch. What a situation.
Isabel silently excused herself and went to sit on the porch. Winry's dog, Den, came up to her and nudged her hand. She scratched Den's head idly for a moment, mulling things over.
It'd been nine years since she left. Things hadn't changed much, except for Ed and Al. And herself, of course. The military did strange things to your mind. Granted, Al wasn't a dog of the military, but he was around them and Ed enough to be affected by it. Ed was a State Alchemist and was given orders frequently. Isabel did things independently and when she saw something worth doing. That was usually rare, but during her lack of interest, the military normally found something to keep her busy. Why let a perfectly good alchemist go to waste?
It must have been a while later when she came back to earth from her absently placed thoughts. Ed was nudging her side with his foot and holding out a bowl to her. His stew was already half-eaten.
“Thanks,” she murmured and took the bowl from him.
Ed sat down next to her to finish his stew. “So,” he sighed.
“Can you…can you feel your arm at all?” Isabel asked. She immediately took a bite of her food so she couldn't repeat herself.
He smirked a little and finished chewing. “Not really, no. It give me an advantage in battles,” he told her. “When Al and I were in Lior, looking for the Philosopher's Stone—”
“The Stone?”
Ed nodded. “We encountered a man, posing as a reverend. He had created a chimera from a lion and a great lizard. Well, it bit my arm and I could have cared less!” he exclaimed proudly.
“Why are you searching for the Stone?” Isabel wanted to know.
With a sigh, the boy leaned back onto his hands, his bowl empty already. “We've been searching for it for three years,” he evaded answering quietly. “We haven't found anything but dead ends and empty clues. We want to increase the power of our alchemy for…specific reasons.”
Isabel nodded, more to herself than to Ed. She halfway understood why he didn't want to tell her everything yet. She wasn't sure she could tell him things about her life yet, either. But, in a sisterly way, she reached back and touched his hand—his real hand. She was afraid he would shirk away, but she knew that even just the gesture would mean something to him, even if he couldn't accept her touch.
But surprisingly, he didn't pull his hand away from her. He smiled at her briefly before he went off into his own world.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm sorry I left you and Al.”
------------------------
“Isabel?”
Ed's voice brought her back. At his curious look, she shook her head. “Nothing, just idle thoughts,” she told him and finished examining the stone. “Nothing really important.”
Suddenly, lightning cracked the sky in the distance. Ed stood up and nodded. “We should be going,” he said.
Isabel nodded as and stood as well. Just as she did, though, a fat raindrop fell onto her nose.
“Winry'll kill me if my auto-mail gets too wet,” she heard him mumble vaguely.
“She really cares for you, Ed,” Isabel told him.
“No, she's just worried about her precious auto-mail,” Ed grumbled, as though he regretted that.
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Come on, little brother,” she cajoled. She could literally feel her old disposition emerging out from the dusty case she'd ruthlessly shoved it into. “Stop kidding yourself. Haven't you seen her face when she's fixing your auto-mail?”
He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “she's pissed.”
Isabel shook her head. “Only when you first break it. Earlier, I was thinking about that day. Do you remember when we'd come back from the river and you fought with Al and the…um, major?”
Ed nodded again. “Al and I really got him.” He cackled evilly to himself at the memory.
“Well, Winry came out and saw you'd already damaged your arm. I went in to make sure you hadn't killed each other since you'd both gone quiet.” They turned a corner and the other two came into view. Quickly, Isabel finished with, “She actually looked happy and content to fix your arm rather than something else.” She purposely left out the part about how Ed looked.
“Yeah, well,” he said. He probably wouldn't be able to come with a good argument for that quickly, Isabel thought, but she was wrong. “Well, she finds this—” he pointed at his arm “—easier since she knows it inside and out.”
Isabel sighed. She didn't want to argue with her brother, not on their first day back together. She smiled at Al when she and Ed reached where Al and Winry were still sitting. Winry smiled back to Isabel and stood.
“Ed, are you keeping your auto-mail dry?” she asked. Then she nodded approvingly of him keeping his arm close to him. “I still want to have a look at it later, just in case.”
Isabel looked at her brother knowingly, as if she were saying, “I told you so!” Ed rolled his eyes at her and continued walking.
“You don't need to look at it, it's fine,” he grumbled at Winry. He cast a helpless look at Al and Isabel, as though pleading for them to intervene.
Al held up his hands, signaling he wasn't going to get involved. After a pleading gaze was cast back at Isabel, she shook her head. “If your mechanic wants to look at your arm, you should let her, Ed. You don't need it to rust, eh?” she said. To enunciate her point, she gave Ed a little shove towards Winry. “You three go ahead, I'll catch up and walk with one of the guards.” She waved them away.
The three started to walk away, Al silent, Ed complaining, and Winry brandishing her wrench at the blond headed boy. Isabel smiled vaguely and stepped away from her spot. Immediately, she saw one of the guards moving towards her, but she turned to shoot a threatening look at him.
“I'll be fine,” she said boldly. “I'll return shortly. Do not follow.” After a few piercing gazes set on the people surrounding her, she set off. If they followed, they would probably feel guilty later on. As she started walking again, the rain started pouring down.
Isabel returned to the spot she and Ed had been earlier. After looking around, on some strange instinct, she sat down on the bench again. It was wet already, but so was she. Her blond hair started to cling to her cheeks and her shoulders. The clothes that Riza had just bought her stuck to her. Her socks were beginning to soak closer to her feet through the boots. But she didn't mind any of that. She didn't mind the rain.
The tears flowing down her face were for a completely different reason. She wept for a reason she would never tell anyone else, a reason she hardly dared to admit to herself. She had been crying for about five minutes when the storm started to worsen and she saw the blue-uniformed guards appearing here and there. She tried to stop the tears, but they kept coming.
“Stop,” she ordered. “This is foolish. There's no need for you to cry.” But she continued still. She shook her head. “This is ridiculous. What are you crying for?” Finally, they began to subside. “There's nothing wrong. Just because it's been years since you really cried doesn't mean you can just drain yourself in one sitting.”
Isabel stood up and wiped her cheeks. After she stepped forward, one of the guards came into view. She rolled her eyes at him. “Very well, let's go,” she consented and started towards headquarters.
------------------------------
Later that evening, Edward tossed and turned. He had never done well when he'd had to live in the dorms of the headquarters building. Though the nights had been few, they were memorable since he had hardly slept for all the noise down the halls: soldiers returning from a night partying, on night duty, or whatever. They'd all made too much noise for Ed. But that wasn't the reason he was unable to sleep tonight.
Actually, things were rather quiet in the halls. He had too much on his mind at the moment. It had not only been a long day, but a long six months.
From the start of this fiasco, he had felt so many things. He'd felt anger and love, pain and sincerity, loneliness and closeness. He'd felt exposed and enclosed at the same time. He'd been confused, yet knew every answer. Things had been a myriad of emotion to him over the past few months. When Isabel had first come into his life, he'd been baffled at first. Then he had accepted her over a very short amount of time. He'd felt at home with her. The love she still felt for him and Al, despite that Ed had shunned her at first glowed when she looked at them. For one of the few times since their mother had died, Ed felt at home. No one, not even Al, made him feel like he could really be himself.
He had too many burdens that he didn't want Al involved with. One of the topmost was what Al thought of him because of the body he was in. Ed didn't want his brother to hate him because of it. It had been all Ed could do then. If there'd been anything more convenient, then Ed would have gone for that. But he rather liked having his brother there as a large suit of armor. He was good for intimidation of their foes. Not that he would admit that any time soon, though.
After Isabel had supposedly “died” to them, Ed had sat in a daze for at least a week. Had that day actually been real? Had those few hours really existed? Or had they only been just a figment of his imagination, brought on from the pain? When Ed had finally left his trance, he saw that Al was mourning in his own way, but seemed to be handling it well enough.
Ed knew he'd worried everyone else. He hadn't eaten anything; he buried himself in his thoughts and training with Al, anything to take his mind off of Isabel. About three weeks after that day, he had convinced himself she had been real and he hadn't been hallucinating. Why would the other three members of his house have been in mourning for something, unless Ed had missed it?
For the following months, he had ignored everyone's worry. He had dismissed Al without a thought. Auntie Pinako had been wise to leave him alone mostly. But what he hated himself most for was how cold he'd been to Winry. If Winry had done anything, she'd been by his side the entire time. Yet he had pushed her away like she meant nothing.
That was a lie. Winry meant everything to him. He would never admit that, either. Not to anyone. Ever since he'd been young, he had felt something for Winry. He hadn't been able to recognize it until only recently, most likely today when Isabel pointed out how she liked to work on his arm. Winry had begged to look at his arm to make sure it wouldn't rust. Ed normally would have figured it was so she could indulge in her obsession with machines. Maybe it was for a completely different reason.
And since Ed was being honest with himself, he didn't mind Winry poking around at his mechanical shoulder in the least. He actually enjoyed it sometimes, until her screwdriver came in contact with a wire set up for a nerve. Then he would be come frustrated when his entire arm twitched and sent a strange sensation through his body. He'd yell then. Winry would yell back.
He supposed they bickered so often because they couldn't think of any other way to express themselves. Every time he shouted at her, he felt like he was telling her something other than the words coming from his mouth. One day, he had shouted something completely out of the ordinary at her and then been embarrassed because of it. It had brought a bright, almost humiliated stain to his cheeks and caused him to flee the kitchen immediately. That had been one of the few days he had come out of his depressed stupor long enough to take part in some outside activity.
Winry would often come to visit him on the balcony. She'd attempt to speak with him, but he would brush her off and ignore her. Sometimes he would even snap at her. Any other day, he would have felt guilty because of it, but he'd been too angry and bitter to have room for anything else. They had only been trying to help, but all he could do was yell and be ungrateful. It was all Ed could do now not to hate himself for being that way towards the only family he had.
When he and Al trained by the lake, they would normally talk between attacks. But during that time, Ed would be so determined he could only focus on losing his anger. There were times when he would come close to beating Al, so he would let up a little. No sense in letting Al's winning streak for many years running go to waste. Besides, there were plenty of other things for Ed to vent any extra wrath on.
After they had finished their mock battles, Ed would stare out into the distance, ignoring the lack of breath he was feeling and the sweat coating him. Occasionally, he would walk into the cold water of the lake to freeze all feeling. When he started shivering uncontrollably, he would go back to the house. Normally, Al was reading or in some discussion with Auntie Pinako when Ed came back. Winry would pitch a fit that he was soaked and his auto-mail would probably start to rust soon.
He hadn't cared then. Nothing had mattered, not even his own life or the Philosopher's Stone.
Then just a few days ago, he'd heard the news. It had been like a place in heaven had been thrust at him. He hadn't known what to do with it. Take it or leave it, take it or leave it? But when he'd heard that ending comment from Mustang, his decision had been made. He had taken his place and strapped up for the ride. No way he would miss the chance to find out his deepest desire the past few months had driven upon him.
Within that hour, the quartet made up of Major Armstrong, Al, Ed, and Winry had jumped upon the first train they could and blazed a trail to East City. During those three days on the train, Ed had been so anxious. He'd felt so exposed, like everyone could see his flaws and weaknesses. He had felt like his soul was bared to the entire world for them to see that he was unsure of himself for once in his life. But no one had been reading him; no one had taken advantage of his displayed emotions. They had merely left him alone until it was absolutely necessary to speak with him.
Then had been his surprise. When he'd reached East City Station, it had been empty. That was unusual for East City. Had it been cleared for a reason? There hadn't been anyone else on the train. Ed hadn't found that unusual then. But now he wondered if Mustang had intentionally cleared the station and secured them a train on purpose. That man did weird things with his time. Everyone knew he didn't do his work when he was supposed to.
In Headquarters, Ed had rushed ahead of everyone else to Mustang's office. When he'd reached the door, something had stopped him. It had been that nagging voice in the back of his mind he'd heard for the past three and a half days. It had been telling him that Isabel wouldn't be there in East City. His hopes had been for nothing, and he would just pine away in loss. Only when he'd felt Winry place her hand on his shoulder—his real shoulder—had he summoned up his courage again to enter the room.
He'd opened the door and looked in. The second he'd looked at Isabel, all emotion had been cleared from his mind. He'd felt nothing at all. Then things had come back to him in a rush that he barely understood. He didn't even try to fight it when the impulse to run to her had overcome him. He had only followed what he'd been feeling. Hadn't he done that in the past and things had turned out well?
There had been hesitation in them both. Neither had been used to physical contact with anyone and the discomfort was apparent. But Ed had discarded it and embraced his sister. Secretly, he'd wanted to let go and bawl on her shoulder like a little boy, to release all of the pent up emotions he'd felt over the past months. But he had overcome that. He wasn't little anymore and he wouldn't shed a tear for that—in public, at least.
Then, in the park, he had felt a little uneasy, especially when he and Isabel had gone off to walk on their own. But they had only talked about things that had kept them busy and things of the present. The surface of the past had only been scratched a little, and it had been for the better Ed felt. They would deal with things slowly until they could all talk and maybe even laugh about it.
No, they wouldn't laugh about this. Maybe be able to talk about it more casually than they did now. Now, they were all on edge, waiting for someone to talk about that day. At least he was. He had so many things he wanted to tell everyone, so many things that no one would ever know. There were so many emotions kept up inside of him that were so personal and enigmatic. No, he would never tell anyone any of the things he'd felt during those six months.
So why did he feel the need to seek someone out and explain his soul to them, tell them every detail of his life, expose what made him tick, bare all his secrets? Why? Hadn't he just vowed to himself that no one would know any of his motives unless they were already on the surface?
He was so confused now. How was he going to figure any of this out? It was all a mess, a puzzle scattered in his mind, perhaps with a few pieces missing.
He was also tired.
Ed yawned and turned onto his side. With one fleeting look at the form on the other side of the room, consciousness drifted away from him until he knew sweet nothing, lovely oblivion.
----------------------
Al stared up at the ceiling. He was used to never sleeping anymore, like he was used to never eating. Instead of his mind being occupied by slumber, it was entertained with either idle thoughts or the vast expanse of nothingness. That was the closest he came to sleep, focusing on what he was, or wasn't. What if something happened to the blood seal on his armor? Would he disappear forever? Would he go away, even if the seal were smudged? That wasn't something he would even want to try.
It had never really bothered him that he couldn't sleep anymore. But this particular night, he wouldn't mind ignoring the thoughts in his mind for once. So many things had been going on lately that it was hard to sort them out. He could place everything correctly, but it would take a while, maybe the entire night, to do that. He wouldn't have minded much any other night, but he just wanted to sleep.
Instead of mercy granting him this one time, thoughts assailed every corner of his mind. He shuddered as it appeared his entire life was flashing before his eyes. Scenarios passed through quickly, hardly giving him time to register them. But the memories seemed to implant themselves someplace he would always remember them. Times he wished he would forget, times he thought he'd forgotten; they all came back to him.
Al sighed. He would just have to succumb to another sleepless night, accompanied only by his thoughts while his brother slept.
--------------------
Isabel sighed in her sleep. It had been a tough battle to find slumber, but she had won in the end. Her mind had wanted to stay awake while her body was screaming to go to sleep. She was exhausted. There had been many a night she had stayed awake for days at the psychiatric ward, but then she had actually been on some type of medication to keep her that way. Now, it seemed her body wanted to make up for those lost hours while her mind was just…there, drifting somewhere.
Not only had those memories tried to keep her awake, but also memories of things she had forgotten. She remembered her childhood with her brothers. She even remembered her mother a little. If she tried hard enough, she could see her father, but his image was a vague one.
But finally, she had defeated the thoughts trying to overwhelm her mind and stolen sleep. But it wasn't the sleep she'd asked for.
-------------------------
Running. Her legs ached from running so much. How long had she been running? Would she ever stop? How far had she gone? Was she running from something? Was she running to something? What would she be running to? Was something chasing her? What would be after her? What did she have to run to? Why had she wanted to run in the first place?
Her lungs hurt from breathing so hard, gasping in a breath every few steps. She had to force her breath out to keep going, to not hold it in so she could run more. Her throat burned from the harsh, ragged breathing she forced upon herself. The rare moments when she would take the time to breath normally, her breath was raspy and coarse. It hurt so badly.
She stumbled on a rock. Her balance was almost thrown off, but she regained it quickly. She kept running. Instinctively, she turned her head to look behind her, just to see if something was following her. Just as she caught sight of a form in the horizon, the ground moved from beneath her feet. She whipped her head back to face forward and looked down. Nothing.
She was standing on nothing. Her surroundings suddenly disappeared. She turned in quick circles, looking around. In the distance, she saw the silhouetted figure still after her. Her mind screamed for her to move, but her legs wouldn't listen. She knew she had to move, but she was stuck in that one place.
The shape was still running towards her, fast. How could someone have that much speed? It was almost amazing how quickly it was advancing on her area of nothingness. When the outline started to come into distinguishable lines, it was almost too late for her to run.
-------------------------
Isabel gasped and sat bolt upright in the bed. She lifted her hands. They were shaking almost violently and she couldn't stop them. She touched her face. There was a cold sweat running down her cheeks and forehead. Her breath came much as it had in the dream: ragged and raspy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a long, shaky breath. That had been some dream. That one hadn't plagued her in a long while, at least six weeks.
She looked around the room. Riza was asleep on the other side of the room. Or was she? The younger woman listened to the first lieutenant's breathing patterns for a few moments.
“Riza,” Isabel murmured. No response. “I know you're awake. I need some paper.”
Riza turned to her side. “There's some on the desk,” she mumbled.
Isabel nodded and slid from the couch. She padded over to the desk and sat down. Her hands were still shaky, and it was a task for her to have even made it halfway across the room on her wobbly legs. But she grabbed a pen and tried to steady herself. After setting a sheet of paper just slanted right, she started to write down her dream. Her words were a little jerky when her trembles increased but she was able to control them well enough to write her dream out.
When she finished, Isabel felt very tired again. She stood up and stretched a little before going back to the couch. The moment she laid her head down on the pillow again, she was back into a peaceful slumber.
Riza Hawkeye was awake a little after dawn. It had taken her a few minutes, but sometime after Isabel had asked for some paper, she'd fallen back asleep. But the first lieutenant had been awake a little longer than just those few minutes. She'd been awake when Isabel had started dreaming. The girl had tossed and turned, so it was obvious it hadn't been a good dream. Then to hear her gasping when she'd woken up had been enough to confirm to Riza that it had been a nightmare.
As she was going through her morning duties, Hawkeye stopped at the desk to find her documents for a meeting. Then she came across a paper with handwriting she didn't recognize on it. After reading the first line, the date and approximate time, she knew it was Isabel's. When she read more, it turned out to be the dream she'd had. When she finished reading the paper, she started taking notes on a clipboard to give to someone of a higher command concerning it.
“Learn something new?”
Riza dropped the clipboard back on the desk and gasped. She turned to look at the couch. Isabel was lying there, exactly how she'd been before Riza had started reading the sheet of paper. Her eyes were still closed in that peaceful way one could only achieve when in slumber. How long had she been awake?
“I didn't know you were awake,” the older woman said.
Isabel smirked a little. “Obviously.”
Riza let out a little sigh. “I see we're more for words today,” she said and continued writing notes.
The younger girl sat up on the couch and shook her head. “Why did you read it?” Isabel asked quietly. “You knew it was something private, yet you still went on.”
“Curiosity, I guess. I was wondering what had woken you up last night,” Riza replied, signing the paper to turn in.
“Don't.”
She turned to look at Isabel. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don't turn the notes in.” Isabel finally looked at Riza. There was sadness in her eyes. “I have dealt with my dreams on my own for the past six months. I don't need anyone else interfering with them. Please.” She immediately looked away.
Riza thought a moment. “They just seemed a little bizarre, and considering where we found you, I thought that Colonel Mustang should know about them,” she said. “It wouldn't be right if I kept them to myself.”
Isabel stood. “Just think, Riza. I wasn't in that psychiatric ward because I'm crazy. You can see that for yourself. I was there because they wanted to test how an alchemist's brain works, see how the alchemic reactions process and just how we turn things into what we need. Even I couldn't tell you that now, being an alchemist myself. If you submit those notes to the colonel, then that will put me in another mess of trouble aside from having tests run on me. It may sound self-centered, but I don't want to have my joy taken away from me so soon again.” She wrapped up her monologue by looking out the window. “So I beg of you, don't show them to anyone else.”
The first lieutenant was silent. “I can't just let this go unnoted, Isabel. It could hold some significance as to why you were there in the first place, some key to something.”
She shook her head. “I'll tell the colonel or somebody when I feel like I can trust them enough not to turn me over to them again,” Isabel mumbled. “I'm going to shower.”
The young girl walked over to the desk, picked up her paper and stood before Riza. Reluctantly, the older woman handed over the notes to Isabel. She left the room wordlessly after that.
Riza sighed. Why did things always happen to her? Why couldn't she just say no to the girl and stand by it for just once in their short friendship? She knew she would regret letting Isabel have her way about the notes. She could just see the outcome and the tongue-lashing she was to receive from Colonel Mustang. Nothing pleasant.
Ed nodded again. “Al and I really got him.” He cackled evilly to himself at the memory.
“Well, Winry came out and saw you'd already damaged your arm. I went in to make sure you hadn't killed each other since you'd both gone quiet.” They turned a corner and the other two came into view. Quickly, Isabel finished with, “She actually looked happy and content to fix your arm rather than something else.” She purposely left out the part about how Ed looked.
“Yeah, well,” he said. He probably wouldn't be able to come with a good argument for that quickly, Isabel thought, but she was wrong. “Well, she finds this—” he pointed at his arm “—easier since she knows it inside and out.”
Isabel sighed. She didn't want to argue with her brother, not on their first day back together. She smiled at Al when she and Ed reached where Al and Winry were still sitting. Winry smiled back to Isabel and stood.
“Ed, are you keeping your auto-mail dry?” she asked. Then she nodded approvingly of him keeping his arm close to him. “I still want to have a look at it later, just in case.”
Isabel looked at her brother knowingly, as if she were saying, “I told you so!” Ed rolled his eyes at her and continued walking.
“You don't need to look at it, it's fine,” he grumbled at Winry. He cast a helpless look at Al and Isabel, as though pleading for them to intervene.
Al held up his hands, signaling he wasn't going to get involved. After a pleading gaze was cast back at Isabel, she shook her head. “If your mechanic wants to look at your arm, you should let her, Ed. You don't need it to rust, eh?” she said. To enunciate her point, she gave Ed a little shove towards Winry. “You three go ahead, I'll catch up and walk with one of the guards.” She waved them away.
The three started to walk away, Al silent, Ed complaining, and Winry brandishing her wrench at the blond headed boy. Isabel smiled vaguely and stepped away from her spot. Immediately, she saw one of the guards moving towards her, but she turned to shoot a threatening look at him.
“I'll be fine,” she said boldly. “I'll return shortly. Do not follow.” After a few piercing gazes set on the people surrounding her, she set off. If they followed, they would probably feel guilty later on. As she started walking again, the rain started pouring down.
Isabel returned to the spot she and Ed had been earlier. After looking around, on some strange instinct, she sat down on the bench again. It was wet already, but so was she. Her blond hair started to cling to her cheeks and her shoulders. The clothes that Riza had just bought her stuck to her. Her socks were beginning to soak closer to her feet through the boots. But she didn't mind any of that. She didn't mind the rain.
The tears flowing down her face were for a completely different reason. She wept for a reason she would never tell anyone else, a reason she hardly dared to admit to herself. She had been crying for about five minutes when the storm started to worsen and she saw the blue-uniformed guards appearing here and there. She tried to stop the tears, but they kept coming.
“Stop,” she ordered. “This is foolish. There's no need for you to cry.” But she continued still. She shook her head. “This is ridiculous. What are you crying for?” Finally, they began to subside. “There's nothing wrong. Just because it's been years since you really cried doesn't mean you can just drain yourself in one sitting.”
Isabel stood up and wiped her cheeks. After she stepped forward, one of the guards came into view. She rolled her eyes at him. “Very well, let's go,” she consented and started towards headquarters.
------------------------------
Later that evening, Edward tossed and turned. He had never done well when he'd had to live in the dorms of the headquarters building. Though the nights had been few, they were memorable since he had hardly slept for all the noise down the halls: soldiers returning from a night partying, on night duty, or whatever. They'd all made too much noise for Ed. But that wasn't the reason he was unable to sleep tonight.
Actually, things were rather quiet in the halls. He had too much on his mind at the moment. It had not only been a long day, but a long six months.
From the start of this fiasco, he had felt so many things. He'd felt anger and love, pain and sincerity, loneliness and closeness. He'd felt exposed and enclosed at the same time. He'd been confused, yet knew every answer. Things had been a myriad of emotion to him over the past few months. When Isabel had first come into his life, he'd been baffled at first. Then he had accepted her over a very short amount of time. He'd felt at home with her. The love she still felt for him and Al, despite that Ed had shunned her at first glowed when she looked at them. For one of the few times since their mother had died, Ed felt at home. No one, not even Al, made him feel like he could really be himself.
He had too many burdens that he didn't want Al involved with. One of the topmost was what Al thought of him because of the body he was in. Ed didn't want his brother to hate him because of it. It had been all Ed could do then. If there'd been anything more convenient, then Ed would have gone for that. But he rather liked having his brother there as a large suit of armor. He was good for intimidation of their foes. Not that he would admit that any time soon, though.
After Isabel had supposedly “died” to them, Ed had sat in a daze for at least a week. Had that day actually been real? Had those few hours really existed? Or had they only been just a figment of his imagination, brought on from the pain? When Ed had finally left his trance, he saw that Al was mourning in his own way, but seemed to be handling it well enough.
Ed knew he'd worried everyone else. He hadn't eaten anything; he buried himself in his thoughts and training with Al, anything to take his mind off of Isabel. About three weeks after that day, he had convinced himself she had been real and he hadn't been hallucinating. Why would the other three members of his house have been in mourning for something, unless Ed had missed it?
For the following months, he had ignored everyone's worry. He had dismissed Al without a thought. Auntie Pinako had been wise to leave him alone mostly. But what he hated himself most for was how cold he'd been to Winry. If Winry had done anything, she'd been by his side the entire time. Yet he had pushed her away like she meant nothing.
That was a lie. Winry meant everything to him. He would never admit that, either. Not to anyone. Ever since he'd been young, he had felt something for Winry. He hadn't been able to recognize it until only recently, most likely today when Isabel pointed out how she liked to work on his arm. Winry had begged to look at his arm to make sure it wouldn't rust. Ed normally would have figured it was so she could indulge in her obsession with machines. Maybe it was for a completely different reason.
And since Ed was being honest with himself, he didn't mind Winry poking around at his mechanical shoulder in the least. He actually enjoyed it sometimes, until her screwdriver came in contact with a wire set up for a nerve. Then he would be come frustrated when his entire arm twitched and sent a strange sensation through his body. He'd yell then. Winry would yell back.
He supposed they bickered so often because they couldn't think of any other way to express themselves. Every time he shouted at her, he felt like he was telling her something other than the words coming from his mouth. One day, he had shouted something completely out of the ordinary at her and then been embarrassed because of it. It had brought a bright, almost humiliated stain to his cheeks and caused him to flee the kitchen immediately. That had been one of the few days he had come out of his depressed stupor long enough to take part in some outside activity.
Winry would often come to visit him on the balcony. She'd attempt to speak with him, but he would brush her off and ignore her. Sometimes he would even snap at her. Any other day, he would have felt guilty because of it, but he'd been too angry and bitter to have room for anything else. They had only been trying to help, but all he could do was yell and be ungrateful. It was all Ed could do now not to hate himself for being that way towards the only family he had.
When he and Al trained by the lake, they would normally talk between attacks. But during that time, Ed would be so determined he could only focus on losing his anger. There were times when he would come close to beating Al, so he would let up a little. No sense in letting Al's winning streak for many years running go to waste. Besides, there were plenty of other things for Ed to vent any extra wrath on.
After they had finished their mock battles, Ed would stare out into the distance, ignoring the lack of breath he was feeling and the sweat coating him. Occasionally, he would walk into the cold water of the lake to freeze all feeling. When he started shivering uncontrollably, he would go back to the house. Normally, Al was reading or in some discussion with Auntie Pinako when Ed came back. Winry would pitch a fit that he was soaked and his auto-mail would probably start to rust soon.
He hadn't cared then. Nothing had mattered, not even his own life or the Philosopher's Stone.
Then just a few days ago, he'd heard the news. It had been like a place in heaven had been thrust at him. He hadn't known what to do with it. Take it or leave it, take it or leave it? But when he'd heard that ending comment from Mustang, his decision had been made. He had taken his place and strapped up for the ride. No way he would miss the chance to find out his deepest desire the past few months had driven upon him.
Within that hour, the quartet made up of Major Armstrong, Al, Ed, and Winry had jumped upon the first train they could and blazed a trail to East City. During those three days on the train, Ed had been so anxious. He'd felt so exposed, like everyone could see his flaws and weaknesses. He had felt like his soul was bared to the entire world for them to see that he was unsure of himself for once in his life. But no one had been reading him; no one had taken advantage of his displayed emotions. They had merely left him alone until it was absolutely necessary to speak with him.
Then had been his surprise. When he'd reached East City Station, it had been empty. That was unusual for East City. Had it been cleared for a reason? There hadn't been anyone else on the train. Ed hadn't found that unusual then. But now he wondered if Mustang had intentionally cleared the station and secured them a train on purpose. That man did weird things with his time. Everyone knew he didn't do his work when he was supposed to.
In Headquarters, Ed had rushed ahead of everyone else to Mustang's office. When he'd reached the door, something had stopped him. It had been that nagging voice in the back of his mind he'd heard for the past three and a half days. It had been telling him that Isabel wouldn't be there in East City. His hopes had been for nothing, and he would just pine away in loss. Only when he'd felt Winry place her hand on his shoulder—his real shoulder—had he summoned up his courage again to enter the room.
He'd opened the door and looked in. The second he'd looked at Isabel, all emotion had been cleared from his mind. He'd felt nothing at all. Then things had come back to him in a rush that he barely understood. He didn't even try to fight it when the impulse to run to her had overcome him. He had only followed what he'd been feeling. Hadn't he done that in the past and things had turned out well?
There had been hesitation in them both. Neither had been used to physical contact with anyone and the discomfort was apparent. But Ed had discarded it and embraced his sister. Secretly, he'd wanted to let go and bawl on her shoulder like a little boy, to release all of the pent up emotions he'd felt over the past months. But he had overcome that. He wasn't little anymore and he wouldn't shed a tear for that—in public, at least.
Then, in the park, he had felt a little uneasy, especially when he and Isabel had gone off to walk on their own. But they had only talked about things that had kept them busy and things of the present. The surface of the past had only been scratched a little, and it had been for the better Ed felt. They would deal with things slowly until they could all talk and maybe even laugh about it.
No, they wouldn't laugh about this. Maybe be able to talk about it more casually than they did now. Now, they were all on edge, waiting for someone to talk about that day. At least he was. He had so many things he wanted to tell everyone, so many things that no one would ever know. There were so many emotions kept up inside of him that were so personal and enigmatic. No, he would never tell anyone any of the things he'd felt during those six months.
So why did he feel the need to seek someone out and explain his soul to them, tell them every detail of his life, expose what made him tick, bare all his secrets? Why? Hadn't he just vowed to himself that no one would know any of his motives unless they were already on the surface?
He was so confused now. How was he going to figure any of this out? It was all a mess, a puzzle scattered in his mind, perhaps with a few pieces missing.
He was also tired.
Ed yawned and turned onto his side. With one fleeting look at the form on the other side of the room, consciousness drifted away from him until he knew sweet nothing, lovely oblivion.
----------------------
Al stared up at the ceiling. He was used to never sleeping anymore, like he was used to never eating. Instead of his mind being occupied by slumber, it was entertained with either idle thoughts or the vast expanse of nothingness. That was the closest he came to sleep, focusing on what he was, or wasn't. What if something happened to the blood seal on his armor? Would he disappear forever? Would he go away, even if the seal were smudged? That wasn't something he would even want to try.
It had never really bothered him that he couldn't sleep anymore. But this particular night, he wouldn't mind ignoring the thoughts in his mind for once. So many things had been going on lately that it was hard to sort them out. He could place everything correctly, but it would take a while, maybe the entire night, to do that. He wouldn't have minded much any other night, but he just wanted to sleep.
Instead of mercy granting him this one time, thoughts assailed every corner of his mind. He shuddered as it appeared his entire life was flashing before his eyes. Scenarios passed through quickly, hardly giving him time to register them. But the memories seemed to implant themselves someplace he would always remember them. Times he wished he would forget, times he thought he'd forgotten; they all came back to him.
Al sighed. He would just have to succumb to another sleepless night, accompanied only by his thoughts while his brother slept.
--------------------
Isabel sighed in her sleep. It had been a tough battle to find slumber, but she had won in the end. Her mind had wanted to stay awake while her body was screaming to go to sleep. She was exhausted. There had been many a night she had stayed awake for days at the psychiatric ward, but then she had actually been on some type of medication to keep her that way. Now, it seemed her body wanted to make up for those lost hours while her mind was just…there, drifting somewhere.
Not only had those memories tried to keep her awake, but also memories of things she had forgotten. She remembered her childhood with her brothers. She even remembered her mother a little. If she tried hard enough, she could see her father, but his image was a vague one.
But finally, she had defeated the thoughts trying to overwhelm her mind and stolen sleep. But it wasn't the sleep she'd asked for.
-------------------------
Running. Her legs ached from running so much. How long had she been running? Would she ever stop? How far had she gone? Was she running from something? Was she running to something? What would she be running to? Was something chasing her? What would be after her? What did she have to run to? Why had she wanted to run in the first place?
Her lungs hurt from breathing so hard, gasping in a breath every few steps. She had to force her breath out to keep going, to not hold it in so she could run more. Her throat burned from the harsh, ragged breathing she forced upon herself. The rare moments when she would take the time to breath normally, her breath was raspy and coarse. It hurt so badly.
She stumbled on a rock. Her balance was almost thrown off, but she regained it quickly. She kept running. Instinctively, she turned her head to look behind her, just to see if something was following her. Just as she caught sight of a form in the horizon, the ground moved from beneath her feet. She whipped her head back to face forward and looked down. Nothing.
She was standing on nothing. Her surroundings suddenly disappeared. She turned in quick circles, looking around. In the distance, she saw the silhouetted figure still after her. Her mind screamed for her to move, but her legs wouldn't listen. She knew she had to move, but she was stuck in that one place.
The shape was still running towards her, fast. How could someone have that much speed? It was almost amazing how quickly it was advancing on her area of nothingness. When the outline started to come into distinguishable lines, it was almost too late for her to run.
-------------------------
Isabel gasped and sat bolt upright in the bed. She lifted her hands. They were shaking almost violently and she couldn't stop them. She touched her face. There was a cold sweat running down her cheeks and forehead. Her breath came much as it had in the dream: ragged and raspy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a long, shaky breath. That had been some dream. That one hadn't plagued her in a long while, at least six weeks.
She looked around the room. Riza was asleep on the other side of the room. Or was she? The younger woman listened to the first lieutenant's breathing patterns for a few moments.
“Riza,” Isabel murmured. No response. “I know you're awake. I need some paper.”
Riza turned to her side. “There's some on the desk,” she mumbled.
Isabel nodded and slid from the couch. She padded over to the desk and sat down. Her hands were still shaky, and it was a task for her to have even made it halfway across the room on her wobbly legs. But she grabbed a pen and tried to steady herself. After setting a sheet of paper just slanted right, she started to write down her dream. Her words were a little jerky when her trembles increased but she was able to control them well enough to write her dream out.
When she finished, Isabel felt very tired again. She stood up and stretched a little before going back to the couch. The moment she laid her head down on the pillow again, she was back into a peaceful slumber.
Riza Hawkeye was awake a little after dawn. It had taken her a few minutes, but sometime after Isabel had asked for some paper, she'd fallen back asleep. But the first lieutenant had been awake a little longer than just those few minutes. She'd been awake when Isabel had started dreaming. The girl had tossed and turned, so it was obvious it hadn't been a good dream. Then to hear her gasping when she'd woken up had been enough to confirm to Riza that it had been a nightmare.
As she was going through her morning duties, Hawkeye stopped at the desk to find her documents for a meeting. Then she came across a paper with handwriting she didn't recognize on it. After reading the first line, the date and approximate time, she knew it was Isabel's. When she read more, it turned out to be the dream she'd had. When she finished reading the paper, she started taking notes on a clipboard to give to someone of a higher command concerning it.
“Learn something new?”
Riza dropped the clipboard back on the desk and gasped. She turned to look at the couch. Isabel was lying there, exactly how she'd been before Riza had started reading the sheet of paper. Her eyes were still closed in that peaceful way one could only achieve when in slumber. How long had she been awake?
“I didn't know you were awake,” the older woman said.
Isabel smirked a little. “Obviously.”
Riza let out a little sigh. “I see we're more for words today,” she said and continued writing notes.
The younger girl sat up on the couch and shook her head. “Why did you read it?” Isabel asked quietly. “You knew it was something private, yet you still went on.”
“Curiosity, I guess. I was wondering what had woken you up last night,” Riza replied, signing the paper to turn in.
“Don't.”
She turned to look at Isabel. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don't turn the notes in.” Isabel finally looked at Riza. There was sadness in her eyes. “I have dealt with my dreams on my own for the past six months. I don't need anyone else interfering with them. Please.” She immediately looked away.
Riza thought a moment. “They just seemed a little bizarre, and considering where we found you, I thought that Colonel Mustang should know about them,” she said. “It wouldn't be right if I kept them to myself.”
Isabel stood. “Just think, Riza. I wasn't in that psychiatric ward because I'm crazy. You can see that for yourself. I was there because they wanted to test how an alchemist's brain works, see how the alchemic reactions process and just how we turn things into what we need. Even I couldn't tell you that now, being an alchemist myself. If you submit those notes to the colonel, then that will put me in another mess of trouble aside from having tests run on me. It may sound self-centered, but I don't want to have my joy taken away from me so soon again.” She wrapped up her monologue by looking out the window. “So I beg of you, don't show them to anyone else.”
The first lieutenant was silent. “I can't just let this go unnoted, Isabel. It could hold some significance as to why you were there in the first place, some key to something.”
She shook her head. “I'll tell the colonel or somebody when I feel like I can trust them enough not to turn me over to them again,” Isabel mumbled. “I'm going to shower.”
The young girl walked over to the desk, picked up her paper and stood before Riza. Reluctantly, the older woman handed over the notes to Isabel. She left the room wordlessly after that.
Riza sighed. Why did things always happen to her? Why couldn't she just say no to the girl and stand by it for just once in their short friendship? She knew she would regret letting Isabel have her way about the notes. She could just see the outcome and the tongue-lashing she was to receive from Colonel Mustang. Nothing pleasant.