Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ In Another Life ❯ Omaha Beach ( Chapter 1 )

Title: In Another Life

Rating: M for blood and language

Author: Kendopunk

Disclaimer: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist, or any of it's characters. I do however own Phinn, Hannah, and all of the fallen Soldiers.

Author's Note: This is dedicated to all of the Veterans, their families, and the fallen soldiers of WW2. I don't know you, but I know of what you did, and that in itself is enough for me to dedicate this to you. This fic was also inspired by the movie “Saving Private Ryan”

 

CHAPTER 1

Ed was beginning to regret his decision. Maybe joining the army wasn't such a good idea. Not that it mattered; he would have been drafted anyway. But he was honestly regretting letting his little brother join. Edward hadn't lied about Al's age. Not really anyway, Alphonse really was twenty-three years old. It wasn't Ed's fault that Al had the body of a twenty year old. Okay, it kind of was Ed's fault. But that was beside the point.

 

Ed was jarred out of his thoughts at the sound of a soldier vomiting in front of him. It wasn't disturbing, or uncommon. It was a natural reaction that war brought on. They knew that in the water they were partially safe, but once they reached the shores of Omaha Beach, it was German territory. Edward heard his brother take a shuddering sigh, and looked next to him where the teen was sitting.

 

Alphonse's hazel eyes were wide and alert. His face was a pale white, quite the contrast to his dark green uniform. Al shuddered for a moment, then bent over and vomited between his feet. Ed was quick to come to his brother's aid; he patted the young man on the back. Al brought his head up, sweat dripping down his temple from under his helmet. His handsome face was contorted with fear.

 

“We're going to die.” He whispered.

 

“No.” Edward replied firmly. “We've died once before, Al, remember? It sucked.”

 

Alphonse made a sound between a scoff and a laugh.

 

“Look at me.” Ed commanded. When Al's stayed locked on the mess on the cold metal floor, Ed acted.

 

“Alphonse, look at me!” Ed shot his hand out and grabbed his brother's chin, forcing the boy to stare him in the eye. Gold poured into hazel.

 

“This is nothing! We've been through worse! We've gone through hell and still came out swinging!” Ed's voice floated through Al's ears. It was nothing more than a whisper, but firm and strong. Just like his older brother himself.

 

“You're not going to die, Al. I won't let you. You will not die.”

Al's eyes were less haunted. He nodded.

 

“I will not die.” He repeated.

 

“Good boy.” Ed smiled softly and sighed lowly. They saw through the darkness, the black shore of Normandy. Ed's face twisted with determination, and even though he would never admit it, a small amount of fear.

Today would be marked forever in history. Men would die, promises would break, but bravery would be proven. Today was D-Day.

 

The sound of bombs began to ring in their ears, closely followed by gunfire. Men in the boats in front of them either jumped out of their vessels, or were shot out. As the soldiers set foot on the beach, mines exploded in the sand. Ed heard his Commanding Officer should something to them before the ramp opened up and they ran out. Edward's gold orbs were sharp as he pressed the butt of his rifle against his shoulder. He and Alphonse ran out of the boat and Edward flipped the safety of his weapon off. He took aim long range, and fired at three Germans twenty feet away. Watching as they fell to the grounf. He heard Al fire off two rounds and smiled slightly.

 

“Brother!” Al shouted. “We should find Phinn!”

 

Ed nodded and, as he fired at the enemy, searched the area for their friend. Ed took a step forward off the shore and tripped. He looked behind him, and his eyes widened. He didn't even notice as his helmet fell into the shallow, crimson stained water.

 

“Frankson!” Ed grabbed the corpses jacked and groaned. He didn't know the man that well, but he mourned his death. Ed grabbed his helmet with numb fingers and lifted it onto his head. Sweat, blood, and salt water poured over his handsome face. He knew the blood running down his cheeks wasn't his, but it was of his fallen comrades. It seemed, in his mind, that the world went silent. All there was, was the smoke and lights of the bombs, men who's shoulders jerked with each fire of their gun, soldiers who's lips were moving to scream out the word “Medic!” But Ed didn't hear any of it. It played like a silent movie to him.

 

Then, just like that, the sound came back. The gunshots sounded, the cries were heard, and there was blood.

 

“Alphonse! Edward!”

 

A young man, about twenty-five or so, ran towards them. Al smiled, relieved, and Ed smirked.

 

“Nice of you to join us, Phinn.” Ed rasped out. His throat had suddenly become very tight.

 

“Tomson, Carlon, and Peters are gone.” Phinn sighed.

 

The cries and screams of “Medic!” got louder.

 

“How's Bryant?” Al asked.

 

Phin sighed. “He's pissed that the Germans are killing the men before he can fix them up some.”

 

Ed nodded in understanding, and looked over to a dirt hill, where their finest medic was letting out some very colorful curses. The stench of blood invaded Ed's nostrils. He felt bad for the medic.

 

“Damn Germans won't let up!” Phinn kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt and growled.

 

“But we'll win,” Al replied softly, and then looked at Ed and Phinn. “Won't we?”

 

Phinn looked over the younger Elric once, and then chuckled softly, and knocked his fist on Al's helmet.

 

“Yeah, kid. We sure as hell will.”

 

The three young soldiers shared a moment of certainty, then they heard a blast go off close by and the ragged, gurgled scream of a broken man. Three heads snapped to the noise, and six eyes locked 40 feet away from them.

 

“Shit! Saunders!!!” Ed cried over the blasts around them.

 

“NO! KEVIN!!!” Alphonse dashed over to the fallen man, his companion, and the man that he shared a bunk with in basic. Ed and Phinn trailed closely behind. Their feet skid on the sand, bullet shells, and blood.

 

“Kevin!” Al leapt over two shattered corpses and fell to his knees next to the man. Saunders lay with spots of sand on his dirty cheeks, thick crimson liquid was flowing out of the sides of his mouth, and he coughed.

 

“E…Elric?” He gasped.

 

Al nodded, and grabbed his friend's arm. “I'm here.”

”Can't…I can't feel…feel…”

 

Al choked slightly and looked back and forth from Kevin's eyes to his body. He heard Phinn take a sharp breath.

 

“Oh, dear God in heaven…” Phinn's eyes emerald eyes widened.

 

Kevin Saunders' legs were missing. His whole lower torso was just plain gone. His stomach was a simple block of mangled scarlet flesh. Tears fell down the nineteen year old's cheek.

 

“Al…I…w-wa-wan…go h-home…”

 

Alphonse watched in muted horror as the light left the fallen soldier's eyes. Phinn bent down, reached out, and closed the open lids, whispering a prayer. Edward thought that it was pointless to do so, but he didn't comment on it. Ed wasn't watching Phinn pray, or watching the corpse lay on the dirty ground. His eyes were trained on his brother, and among the cries of men…among the bombs that were going off not three feet away from them…he couldn't bring himself to look away from the sight of his baby brother sitting on his knees, staring blankly at the body. Just one more thing for Edward to blame himself for…it seemed his brother had just lost the little innocence that he had left. Edward himself…had lost that innocence when he was ten years old. Phinn stood and sighed, pulling Ed off to the side.

“Elric, remind me what our objective in this fucked up situation is?”

 

Ed sighed. He knew what it was. It was to kill the enemy and win the war, right? In another life, Edward Elric didn't believe in killing. He didn't operate that way. He would just beat the crap out of people, and leave a black and blue mess. But that was another life. That was another world. His best friend was right in what she had told him long ago. Edward had changed. But Edward wasn't a child anymore. He had no innocence left, and he had committed too many sins for him to think of the world in that ignorant view. The views that you could just leave people in a bruised mess on the ground, and expect them to leave you alone all your life. Because the Edward that was alive in this world, the Edward that was trained in war…knew that he had to leave people dead…for them to leave you alone all your life. Ed looked at Saunders' dead body, and then back at Phinn.

 

“Give me his M.G.”

 

Phinn looked from Ed to the corpse, and then bent down and lifted up the dead man. He pulled the machine gun off from his shoulders and stood again, handing the weapon to Edward. Edward took the weapon, and secured it in his arms.

 

“Phinn Burton,” Ed's eyes flashed with determination. “Our objective is to immobilize the enemy and avenge the lives of the men lost by winning this damn war.”

 

Phinn nodded and looked down at the young Elric. Then pulled the young man to his feet.

 

“C'mon, Al.” He mumbled. Al nodded, slightly dazed still, and pulled his browning up a little, securing it into his shoulder.

 

“Go,” Al's voice was strong. “I'll cover you from behind.”

 

His brothers, one in blood the other in bond, nodded, and assembled.

 

“Where's the rallying point?” Phinn questioned.

 

“I'm gonna go with some place where we're not getting shot at.” Ed replied.

 

“Good plan.” Alphonse nodded.

 

Ed heard more bombs going off, the blast echoing in his ears. He heard Germans shouting.

 

“Es gibt einen überschuß um elf Uhr!”

 

Ed turned to his five o'clock and opened fire, his shoulder jerking with each bullet that spurts out of the nose of the gun. Three Nazis dropped to the ground, one armless, his shoulder just tassels of flesh and blood.

 

As the smoke from the gun disappeared, Ed's breathing grew harsh.

 

“Well…let's go win this thing.” He called to the two behind him.