Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Missing Time ❯ One-Shot

 

 

Missing Time

 

By: emeraldoni

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist in anyway, except for this plot, and that little fake text book insert. By the way, this is placed after the movie and series, though it still makes sense if you haven't see the movie. Kind of.

 

 

 

Edward Elric had never been one for romance. In his short time spent as an adolescent and above he had been too consumed with a mission to even entertain the possibility of love. His love was of friendly nature, or that which is the bonds of blood. Al had always been Ed's life.

 

When Ed had been taken to Germany, across the gate, his obsession was in getting back, only to see his brother. While he knew he cared for his friends, it was his brother—his responsibility—that really drew his attention.

 

The only spark Full Metal had ever truly felt for a woman was for the holy girl, Rose, and that was more out of amazement than anything else.

 

When Ed had finally gotten his brother back, he had been ecstatic. They were together, bodies nearly unmarred, and they were happy. Setting aside that they weren't home, they found their joy in discovery and knowledge, traveling across Europe in a series of car crashes and bummed rides.

 

It wasn't until a few months, maybe even a few years, that Edward realized what he had lost.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

They say in absence the heart grows fonder, and this statement pissed Winry off.

 

Seeing those words written on paper, a mockery of her hurt, had set her on the edge. Oh, nobody noticed the difference; she was still the spunky young girl who brought a smile to many faces.

 

Winry had lost that light heartedness though. She felt like a clown, a miserable maid who would die alone. Behind her back she heard the whispery voices adding rumor and gossip to the shadows.

 

“The Elric boys…”

 

“Gone…”

 

“Disappeared…”

 

“Dead…”

 

The first time Edward had gone, Winry's heart had broken. Everyday she would walk through places in the house, touching what he touched, seeing what he saw…

 

And then Al came back, innocent as he was those many years ago. His brother's sacrifice was forgotten by the most important person.

 

And it had hurt, looking at the young boy who had driven his brother's determination. Al was so lively, so joyous, so unlike Edward. Yet Winry still noticed the similarities, the deep-seeded sadness, the urge to have something more.

 

When Al went in search of his brother, Winry's heart had shattered. Her one connection to him had been dislodged. She was alone once again.

 

Pinako had told Winry in her strait-forward, practical manner, that she should let it go. The boys went their own way; there was nothing she could do.

 

The he had returned! Edward had returned.

 

Oh, she was so happy, she finally had him again. There he was, Edward, the love of her—no, she wouldn't say that. Not anymore…

 

He left again. In a flash he was gone, sacrificing himself, saving the world.

 

After he had gone again, taking Al with him, Winry had cried. He was her life; he was everything she had lived for. She had no idea what she would do to fill in the center of her universe. Her heart, what was left of it, had dissolved, gone like autumn, only to reveal winter.

 

When he was there, she could always look forward to his next visit. Ed would smile, the suit of armor trailing behind him aptly known as Al, and he would greet them with a smile. Then they would fight when she scolded him for messing with his automail.

 

Of course, they always fought. Winry sometimes wondered if that was why he never wanted to come back. Maybe she should have been more feminine, stronger.

 

Then she would think, `No, he wouldn't care for me anyway.'

 

Sitting in the room he had stayed in the one night, the night that started it all, she trailed her fingers over her tools, the wrench.

 

Her reflection breezed back to her in the stained metal, revealing her eyes-to-bright and her trembling lips.

 

He was gone, never to return.

 

She just wished she could forget.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

When Ed first started feeling down, he thought it was because of boredom. They had stayed in that one town for a while, maybe he was just restless.

 

Then they had moved, and that heavy emotion didn't dissipate, if anything, it got worse.

 

He kept it hidden fairly well; it wasn't until the dreams that Al noticed anything. If only it hadn't been for the damn shadows under his eyes. If only he had more interest in the now useless scrolls they perused.

 

“Are you okay, brother?” Al had asked one night, after they had found a new inn to reside in, in a new town to rake for interesting facts, “You look tired.”

 

Ed had waved him off, “Nothing, nothing, just haven't been sleeping that great.”

 

He had ignored the flash of hurt blue eyes and buttercup-yellow hair. They were just images in his slumber, nightmares of unknown origin.

 

Edward did not want to believe that something was lacking from his life. For years he had fought to have this. He had fought to be with his brother, whole and human once again. To want something else… well, it shamed him.

 

So he hid it from Al, pretending all was right.

 

And it got worse.

 

In the middle of the night Edward would shoot strait upward, sheets wrapped around him in a tangled mess, sweat slick against his skin.

 

Ed was a young man, who knew what these reactions were, the arousal of his body, but he had no idea what it was coming from.

 

The dreams…

 

They hinted at something he had left behind, something he yearned for.

 

His only clue, the small glimpse a crying blue eyes, and buttercup-yellow hair.

 

Ed took to taking cold baths in the middle of the night, scrubbing his body clean of the nightmares that took over him in the most disturbing of ways. Every evening, before sleep, Ed would pray that Al would remain ignorant of his haunting, that he would be naïve to Edward's reaction.

 

And so, Edward stopped sleeping. Soon, as he stared at the books, the books that he shouldn't be looking at, the vision became one he would see before his eyes, a hallucination of a person best left forgotten.

 

Through this plague of heady images and painful pictures, Ed made one decision.

 

They had to get back home.

 

And with that, as soon as the sun peaked over the edge of the foreign, opposing world, Ed, along with his brother, made their way to where everything started.

 

They were going back to Germany.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

Another saying Winry hated was `Time will heal all wounds.'

 

Much to the mechanics annoyance, her only relative, Pinako, loved to quote the damn thing whenever a mention of the Elric brothers came up. For some reason Winry would feel a surge of anger, and onslaught of rage so intense she could barely stay upright. Then that wave of emotion would come crashing down like a giant wave, a tsunami that led her into darkness, a despair of the worst kind.

 

Winry hated the thought that she was barely into her twenties and she already had a cynical outlook. She was supposed to be one of the unreasonable people, a free spirit, a wandering soul with a home.

 

Instead she felt trapped. Winry was in a self-inflicted cage, one that kept others away from her.

 

Lying on the couch in a warm room, she mused over her inadequacies, the once which caused her to be left alone. Winry tended to do this quite a bit lately, and she had decided to add her brooding to the list on `The Negatives of Winry Rockbell's Personality.'

 

Arguably, this was all she did in her spare time.

 

Pinako snorted when she walked into the room, chewing on her pipe that never seemed to have anything in it, the minute figure held and imposing aura.

 

“Winry Rockbell, I'm fairly certain I did not raise you to just lie around the house like a slacker. Don't you have a few commissions to take care of?”

 

Winry had finally become a tiny bit acknowledged in the mechanical community, a small screw in the industry, but ever since the loss of her first—and main—customers, she had had no motivation.

 

The glossy aluminum held no shine to her, and the sparkling tools seemed dull in comparison.

 

All she saw was her sun, her imagination wild with corn-colored hair and fire-golden eyes.

 

In response to Pinako, Winry grunted, “I'll do them later.” Her were words barely intelligible in the muffled folds of the couch and her arms while she was lying on her belly.

 

Pinako sighed, changing her tone to that of a soothing figure, one trying to pacify a child, “You need to get your mind off of certain things, Winry. Do your work. It will help you.”

 

Winry nodded, her voice grudging, “Okay, I'll get up.” She moved her head to prove her intent, though she felt no such inclination to actually get up.

 

Pinako seemed satisfied with this though, and moved to leave the room, “Good. I'll start making the stew for tonight's supper. Make sure you're nice and hungry by then.”

 

The older woman left the room, good intent clear in her posture, but Winry felt no such uplifting of the heart.

 

Stew… it had been his favorite.

 

Winry held back the tears as she remembered Ed praising stew, even though it had milk in it.

 

It all came crashing down, again.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

Edwards's fingers trembled, his eyes roving from left to right as he stared intently down at the old tome in his fingers.

 

They had searched so hard, so long. Al hadn't understood Ed's ferocity in his search fro returning home, contributing it to him missing friends, but he provided his full support.

 

Together they had combed the city—the county—for any clue, yet they had found nothing.

 

Until now.

 

For a moment, Edward's confident smirk reappeared, the bruises under his tired eyes almost disappearing in the sudden change of demeanor, “Ah ha! There had to be something!”

 

The words before him swam slightly, as Ed had been near sleepless for the past few days, but he kept his concentration centered on those few pages.

 

Though many theories have been brought up concerning physics and the possible chance at there being another world, nothing is concrete. Though much research has been done in such a field, no progress was apparently made. Arguably, many people—especially those who hold the belief of God and the bible—feel that the only lands are that of earth—here--, hell—below our very feet--, and heaven--a place almost as unobtainable as flight was once thought to be.

I have been researching the aspect of there being multiple worlds, universes as you will: Or maybe different times. I believe that every universe started out as a single organism, an entity that stood alone as itself. As time progressed it change and grew, soon growing at odds with itself. Then, like a cell during mitosis, it split, letting, in its place, two words exist. This process was repeated with the worlds, until many existed, at this point it is almost unfathomable as to how many plains of existence there actually are, but I can safely guess that there are more that one could ever travel in a lifetime.

This is where the prospects of these worlds become confusing. For while they are different, they are very much the same. In a sense, these worlds are really just mirror images of each other. And then physics comes into play, and it can be said with certainty that these worlds share the exact same space.

It is a matter of perception, these universes. While we, as regular human beings, only see what we were born to see, there is, in actuality, much more. If someone truly learned to open their mind, their eyes, if you will, they would be able to see the other worlds. While we would never be able to see the other millions of humans on the street, they could. And while we would never be able to traverse the disorientation of the worlds, they could easily do so.

The fault with this, unfortunately, is that seeing all the times would most likely send one mad. As it is beyond our comprehension to actually entertain such a possibility, actually experiencing this could easily send a person into one of the infamous asylums—

 

Edward cut off his study there. The author—who had actually been imprisoned in one of those `infamous asylums'—had helped Edward a great deal. Well, sort of.

 

If only he could figure out how to see the other world…

 

At home, traversing worlds had seemed impossible, though he didn't even know about it until the end. Yet Ed's own world had given him the impression that there was a looming barrier, impossible to traverse without an enormous amount of power, luck, and circumstance.

 

This author—`Jonathon Knightly,' Edward noted—had made it seem as though that barrier was just a flimsy piece of faded sheet, ready to ripped from its clothes line at any moment.

 

Now that the hardest part was over, Edward sat back in his chair. He glanced over at Al, who had long ago fallen asleep with a large pile of books piled haphazardly nest to him.

 

Yes, maybe things were looking up. Now all Ed had to do was remove that veil, then he and Alphonse would be at home once again.

 

The misplaced alchemist's eyes shadowed for a moment at a memory, but then brightened when he looked over at his un-rumpled bed.

 

Edward finally got his long awaited sleep, the dreams more of a mist in his mind that a downpour.

 

His last conscious image was that of a quiet home set in a rural background, a girl with clear-blue eyes and buttercup-yellow hair sitting on the porch.

 

She smiled, then whispered.

 

“I'm waiting...”

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

“Together we grow stronger…”

 

A while after everything had calmed down; Rose had come to stay with the Rockbell family. Winry hadn't minded much, the girl and her baby had no where else to go at the time. It wasn't until later she started to notice things that she didn't like.

 

Rose almost seemed perfect. With her demure nature and self-sacrifice, Rose was admired by all.

 

Winry did not mind these traits of hers; she knew she could never be anything like that. It was when Rose spoke of Ed that she started to dislike the girl so much. Whenever she spoke of the short alchemist she would get a look in her eyes, one of utmost devotion: love.

 

And then Winry would know that maybe Ed didn't want her because he already had this small, prefect girl with sad eyes and a beautiful smile.

 

Rose's baby had grown up into a young child, a toddler. It would wobble around the house on unsteady feet with a grin and sparkling red eyes. Winry was a, again, jealous of what Rose had.

 

The girl had produced her own family, and though the child had been born out of pain, she still nurtured it like her very soul resided in the delicate little body.

 

Winry could only dream she could have a baby, but she wouldn't settle for just anyone being the father, like anyone would want a rough and tumble girl like her anyway. Winry figured that her life would end with a wrench in one hand and a lament about her spinsterhood in the other.

 

Then Winry would hate herself more, for being jealous of Rose, for wishing ill will on her. Rose had been nothing but friendly and nice to Winry. To tell the truth, Winry knew that they were friends, good friends even. Yet that did not stop the painful thoughts that kept running through her head.

 

If people found out about her vile mind they would look down upon her even more. Many times Winry would just escape into the forest, the untamed fields giving her company and solace in their lonely companionship. It would calm her down, but it was not enough to relieve her ache, the hollowed out hole in the middle of her chest.

 

She knew that she would have to go back and face her loved ones again. Her replenished smile would not reveal her feelings of betrayal, loss; it would just be her, the same old Winry Rockbell, the spunky girl with a testy temper and bright outlook.

 

If only she could still be that way…

 

If only they would come back…

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

 

“Wake up, Al! Wake up!”

 

Ed shook the huddled form on the small twin bed that groaned as he attempted to wake him.

 

“Come on! I think I found a way home.”

 

There was silence for a moment, then hopeful blue eyes appeared form under thread-bare quilts.

 

“Really? Are you sure?”

 

Ed nodded, his face serious and determined, “Yeah, but we need to go to the countryside. So get up!”

 

XxXxXxXx

 

“Okay, so what are we doing her again?”

 

Al stood next to his brother, who was kneeling in the boggy grass with his eyes closed in concentration. Ed's jaw jutted out slightly with frustration that they had, until now, accomplished nothing but getting thoroughly muddy and soaked. Apparently the elements did not care for their quest at the moment.

 

Ed paid no heed to this, set strait on his path and determined to no fail, “Shut up Al, I need to think.”

 

Alphonse just sighed, shaking his head, “Brother…”

 

Ed just waved him away though, as he put his head into his hands. His mind was flashing with all the memories of his home, and the possibility of other worlds. He spread everything he had before him in an invisible arrangement.

 

And then Ed wished. He opened himself bare for those with eyes to see, and he begged with heart held hand.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he knew it was Al, trying to get him to go, but he wouldn't give up, he had to do this.

 

It was all a matter of perception.

 

“…a matter of perception…”

 

The darkness behind his closed eyes brightened with a sudden blinding flash, and Ed saw a web. Before the Full Metal was a tangle of so many threads it was almost unimaginable, and they all led to different world, a different plain of existence.

 

Slowly, so as not to touch anything else, Edward sorted through the threads, using his past and sense of self to find what he was looking for. They glowed with and evanescent light, the worlds did, and they called out to him, but Ed would only let himself be captured by one world, his home.

 

Edward gripped Al's hand on his shoulder, making sure his brother would be pulled with him, wherever he went.

 

The veil, the flimsy sheet, it had been pulled away from his eyes, and Ed looked in every nook and cranny of time, of space, of existence.

 

The one thread caught his attention. It glowed a golden color, wavering slightly as though it was ready to go out, as though it was ready to give up.

 

Ed knew, he knew so well.

 

He grasped that thread, pulling him and his brother closer and closer. He would get there no matter what…

 

The brother opened their eyes to the same exact landscape they had closed themselves off to.

 

“Brother…”

 

Ed shook Al off, getting up as disappointment flooded through him.

 

“Brother…!”

 

Edward stared at his feet, his hands, the ground, anything to keep the despair at bay.

 

“Brother!”

 

“What!?”

 

“Look!”

 

Edward watch as Al laughed, staring at everything around them.

 

…a matter of perception…

 

…mirror images of one another…

 

Ed's eyes widened as he twisted. Yes, the landscape was the same, but it was different. Instead of a heavy gray sky and sopping wet field, the sky shone bright and clear, the land solid beneath their feet.

 

Alphonse laughed out loud, and so did Edward.

 

How could they not have recognized this place? Wasn't this just a little way outside of Rizenboul? Ed hugged Alphonse.

 

“We're home.”

 

Ed turned to run back to his birthplace, and that was when clear blue eyes and buttercup-yellow hair appeared before him.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

“Wishful thinking…” is what Winry told herself. That was her mindset all the time, especially today.

 

“I'm going out,” she had told Pinako, “A little picnic, I guess.”

 

It was the anniversary of the day when Ed and Al had last visited. She remembered that time all too well. The appearance of Hoenheim, the military, the pain, it would all come swirling back in a clash of emotions that threatened to spill Winry to the ground.

 

So, in an effort to hide her distress, Winry went out. With a little sack in one hand, her old wrench in the other, she disappeared into the trees, in search of a place to be alone.

 

She barely noticed the passage of time and the bright sun shining down on her, so immersed in her thoughts she was.

 

It wasn't until she peered through the foliage, into a field, that her heart stopped.

 

“It couldn't be… No…”

 

A prickle of pain could be felt in her chest, a thousand needles all piercing her, all into her forgotten heart.

 

Winry ran out of the bushes, stumbling on the uneven ground and her own uncertainty.

 

They looked at her, eyes with surprise, mud peppering their faces, along with joy and relief.

 

His voice, “Winry…”

 

“Edward!” She shouted, then with a swing of her wrench she screamed, “You idiot!”

 

Ed collapsed to the ground, groaning slightly from the large metal impact against his forehead.

 

“What the hell!? Win—”

 

Edward stopped at the feel of lips against his as Winry leaped on him, pulling him into her arms. She was sobbing, crying for everything she was worth.

 

She was crying because of them.

 

Ed was stunned as Winry rained kisses, on his cheeks, chin, jaw, lips, clutching him as though he was her life.

 

After a few moments she stopped burying her head into his chest, both of them still on the ground. Blindly Winry reached out, grabbing Al's foreign and muddy shirt, pulling him down into her arms as well.

 

“You idiots…” She whispered brokenly, “How could you leave me?”

 

Edward smiled softly, “Winry…”

 

Not even noticing she was still straddling his lap, Winry looked up at him desperately, “You're not leaving again, are you? You're not going to disappear, right?”

 

Al grinned slightly, pulling away from the couple, falling into each others eyes.

 

“No,” Ed uttered, “I think we are finally home.”

 

Relief flooded onto Winry's features, “Thank you…” she said so quietly, only the gods could hear.

 

Edward lifted her chin, staring into her beautiful features, so changed, yet so similar to what they were before, and he finally felt true contentment.

 

Winry sighed as she felt his lips gently caressing hers, a flower of emotion coursing through them and blossoming in their hearts, their once hollow chests.

 

Their souls were together, they were whole once more.

 

“C'mon, let's go back. I want to see all the changes since we've been gone.” Ed said, resting his forehead against hers.

 

Winry smiled, getting up, hand in hand with her alchemist.

 

Her world was upright once more. For a moment in time, a tear in the fabric of her life, Winry had been lost.

 

But she was back again, everything she asked for, her wish, granted.

 

Her family was back, and life was good.

 

 

~Fin~