Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Rehabilitation ❯ Life's Not Fair ( Chapter 4 )

AN: -Le Gasp!- She lives! I know, I know, it’s been months since I’ve updated anything, but I’ve been really busy! The good news is that the school year’s over on Tuesday, so I now have three months to dedicate to all of my faithful readers!

It has come to my attention that I have not yet given a time line for this story. -smacks herself- I’m so sorry! It happens right after episode 24 of Fullmetal Alchemist and during year 6 of Harry Potter. That means spoilers for Half-Blood Prince, y’all!

Now, to answer some questions.

Why was Winry in her work outfit? Well, she didn’t exactly know that she was going somewhere, did she?

Why did Winry not suspect anything about the portkey? If you will reread the last chapter, you will find that Winry was very angry. And not quite coherent. She was in a blind rage at the moment, so she didn’t really realize that it was a smelly old shoe that she was grabbing. She just wanted to hit Edo with Wrenchy.

Where are Havoc and Hughes? I’m not ruining this one. You’ll see....

Will this be an Ed/Winry romance? I’m sorry, but no. I may be a girl, but I hate mushy romance. And trust me, you do NOT want me to even try writing something romantic-- it’ll turn out to be crap.

Warning: Very emotional chapter. : ( Or at least it’s supposed to be.

Standard Disclaimer: Sugarpony does not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter.

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Rehabilitation

Chapter Four

Life’s Not Fair

---

The Great Hall was, for one of the first times in Hogwarts history (one Hermione Granger could attest to that), perfectly silent. Even the owls sitting in the rafters were mystified by the entrance of the strange girl. Several of the students stared at Major Elric, who had not bothered to move his head since it had been thrown back by a wrench. Then, the silence was broken by the girl’s footsteps pounding to the head table.

“WELL? !” she screamed, leaning over the high table to speak to the boy face to face. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY AUTOMAIL THIS TIME? !” Her voice began to shake. “You were fighting again, weren’t you? Weren’t you? !” A slow -drip- -drip- filled the quiet of the hall. “Why is it that you and Alphonse are always doing something dangerous?” Those close enough could see tears running down the girl’s face. “I hate you, Edward Elric!”

With that, she stormed down the long hall, coming to a rest at the doors. “Well?” she asked, very quietly this time. “Aren’t you even going to say something? Anything?”

The lack of response spoke volumes.

She slowly began to walk out the doors, and then, a very small, hesitant voice was heard.

“I’m sorry.”

Not a single sole dared to even breath loudly. The voice was a trembling tenor, and it had originated from none other than Edward Elric. His head was now bowed, and there was a distant, forlorn look in his golden eyes. He nervously swallowed a lump in his throat and licked his dry lips before speaking again.

“You’re right, Winry,” he said. “You always have been. I am the biggest idiot in the world. I’m stubborn, overconfident, and I have a short temper. I-” He paused before continuing again, his voice a little stronger. “I never think, I just rush into everything. And, if Hell really exists, I deserve the worst it has to offer.” He slowly stood, a bit wobbly on his single crutch, picked the wrench up off of the floor, and walked to Winry, the girl at the door.

Every person in the room was silent, waiting for him to say something more. The boy had not uttered a single word during his stay, and now that he was finally speaking, everyone was curious about what he had to say.

He finally reached Winry, and he handed her the wrench, leaning against the wall for support, before heading out the door. Winry spoke before he could fully leave, however.

“Ed,” she began, quietly and fearfully, “what are you talking about? You’re scaring me, Ed.”

The Fullmetal stopped. He did not turn around; he did not seem to even have heard the question but for the fact that he had paused in the doorway. Finally, he spoke.

“I’m a horrible person, Winry,” he whispered, voice shaking, fiercely clutching his crutch. “I killed him.”

---

Edward stumbled into the Entrance Hall, not really paying attention to his surroundings. He didn’t hear Winry’s confused cries. Nor did he hear the sound of cursing and footsteps as Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye followed him. He merely wandered through a random door to his right, drowning in his thoughts.

It had been haunting him ever since it had happened. He wanted so much to be able to just let it go and blame the entire thing on Scar, but he knew that would never be. His conscience would not let him rest peacefully. It was no one’s fault but his own.

Everything that had happened was his fault. It was his idea to study alchemy and try to bring their mother back to life. It was his idea to become a state alchemist. It was not his idea to look for the Philosopher’s Stone, true, but Alphonse would not have pursued it if he hadn’t agreed. These are the things which led to his death.

Scar only wanted to kill state alchemists. He had given Edward the chance to save himself, but the boy had not used it wisely.

Damn it, he had promised to never harm his brother!

But he had allowed Alphonse to be put in danger. He knew the risks, yet he ignored them. He was too focused on his goal; he didn’t focus enough on the journey.

He had always worried about losing his brother. Every time it rained, he was put at risk. The blood seal could get scratched or washed away so easily. With more time, it would have faded away on its own. But his need to have his brother by his side, to know that he would always be within his line of vision, to keep at least one thing as it always had been had overridden his common sense. Alphonse would have been perfectly safe with Winry and Pinako-- much safer than he had ever been with Edward. The amount of danger the pair had faced daily.... It would have driven any child, any civilian, to the brink of living in constant fear.

But he could never bring himself to leave him behind. While it is true that without his brother with him Edward would most likely have been dead long before now, at least Alphonse would still be alive.

Older brothers were supposed to protect their younger brothers; to love them; to teach them; to always be there for them.

He had killed his.

Edward stumbled down the corridors, simply walking. He needed to get away from the one person he could never escape.

Himself.

---

Winry Rockbell stood in a stunned silence. She noticed that Major Armstrong had entered and was now standing beside her. She turned to him, an inquisitive look in her eyes. “Major, what did he mean?”

Armstrong stood unnaturally still for a moment. He then lightly grabbed Winry’s shoulders and guided her out of the Great Hall, closing the doors behind them and Mustang and Hawkeye, who rushed off to go looking for Fullmetal.

“Major, what’s wrong with Edward?”

The was a long silence before either of them spoke again. Winry held her wrench loosely in her hand, fearing what she was about to hear.

Armstrong took a deep breath and stared into Winry’s eyes before he spoke. “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this, but you need to know.

“Scar attacked the boys in East City. He was going to kill Edward, but Alphonse stepped in the way.”

Winry’s eyes widened, and her breath hitched. “No.... He didn’t....”

“The seal was destroyed. Alphonse was killed.”

The wrench slipped from Winry’s hand as she gasped and dropped to her knees, disbelief covering her face. It couldn’t be true, could it? Sure, Ed and Al were always doing dangerous things, but at much as she hated to admit it, they usually knew what they were doing. For Alphonse to be dead... was simply inconceivable. He was such a strong person-- he always beat Ed in their sparring matches-- how could Scar have killed him?

“Alphonse... no....”

“Miss Rockbell.”

Winry looked up, mouth slightly open and eyes wide, into Major Armstrong’s face. He had a stony look, and the mechanic was afraid of what else he might have to tell her.

“There’s one more thing you need to know,” he said, all sparkle gone from his persona. “Edward believes that he is responsible for Alphonse’s death. He hasn’t been eating or sleeping properly, and he hadn’t spoken a word since that incident until tonight.” The large man seemed infinitely smaller than he really was as he stared into the girl’s eyes.

“I fear that he is trying to kill himself as punishment, Winry.”

---

Harry Potter hated being left in the dark.

Last year, it had cost him his godfather. Now, if he wasn’t informed about everything that had to do with Voldemort, there would be hell to pay.

“I still think that there’s another reason why they’re here!”

Harry and his best friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were currently in front of a dying fire in the Gryffindor common room. None of the other students were concerned with Harry’s yelling, for they were busy discussing dinner’s events amongst themselves.

Hermione looked up from her homework, staring at her friend skeptically. “Harry, if there was another reason for their presence, don’t you think that Dumbledore would have said something? After all,” she continued at his harassed look, “if it’s about protecting the school, he would have told the students at the feast. And if it’s about V-Voldemort (Here, Ron and anyone within earshot shuddered.) I’m sure he’ll tell you Saturday evening.”

“She’s got a point, mate,” Ron agreed, earning himself an accusing glare. He shrugged helplessly, trying to tell him that he wasn’t a traitor.

Harry let out a frustrated grunt, stopped his pacing (for he was beginning to wear a hole in the carpet), and plopped down into his favorite over-stuffed armchair. Ron and Hermione let him sit there sulking for a few minutes until he began to speak again.

“I at least want to write a letter to Remus,” he said, whipping out a quill, pot of ink, and spare bit of parchment, “and see if I can get any answers out of him before I see Dumbledore on Saturday.”

Hermione heaved a sigh of resignation. “Well,” she said, “you’d better hurry with that letter if you want to send it tonight, because it’s almost curfew.”

---

Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc could no longer move. Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes could no longer run around like a maniac.

Why was this?

Their stomachs were catching up to them.

The pair had missed dinner, and so now they were lying in the middle of an abandoned corridor, moaning in hunger.

“Hughes?”

A weak moan.

“Yes, Havoc?”

A pause. Then,

“If we get out of this alive, remind me never to go anywhere without a map ever again.”

“Only if you do the same for me.”

“Deal.”

---

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Edward slowly ascended the spiral staircase, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t know where it would take him, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted-- no, needed-- to be alone and that long spiral staircases had an uncanny ability to take him to isolated areas of the giant castle.

He kept going upwards until he became dizzy, and even then he only stopped for a moment to regain his balance. Finally, a beam of moonlight filtered down amongst the dimly lit torches, and he smelled fresh air as he exited the staircase into a large, open room.

Unlike the stuffy stone classrooms, this room was made almost entirely of wooden beams and highly resembled a barn. There were not walls separating the tower from the outdoors, but instead there were only a few wooden railings for safety. As he stepped inside, Ed felt something hard beneath his foot, heard a sickening crunching noise, and looked down to see the hay-strewn floor littered with skeletons of dead rats, mice, frogs, and lizards. Aside from the bones and hay, the only other things the room had inside of it were owls-- scores upon scores, possibly hundreds of owls flying in every direction-- flying outside to spend the night away from the castle-- returning from hunting with small animals inside their beaks-- and a scarce few still snoozing, heads tucked underneath one wing, not yet ready to enjoy the still young night.

Cautiously, Edward ventured further into the room, avoiding any owls in the air or sitting on the floor. He grimaced as he stepped in something that was most definitely not water before finally coming to a rest, leaning on one of the railings and taking in the view. Directly ahead was an enormous, towering black forest that stretched beyond his line of vision. In the far distance were magnificent mountains capped with snow. To his right lie a long, deep lake, clear and sparkling in the pale moonlight. To his left lie nothing but rolling fields, the lush green grasses swaying in the slight breeze. Ed sighed, somewhat calmed by the wondrous sight yet drifting deeper still into his depression.

You’d never be able to see something like this back home, he thought. All we have are cities and
farmlands, barely any forests or rivers. Tears began to cloud his eyes. Alphonse would have loved to see this.

A particularly beautiful snowy owl, as if sensing his sadness, landed on the railing beside Edward. He looked down at her, seeing her large amber eyes stare up at him, and, carefully setting his crutch to the side and leaning on the railing, reached his hand out to pet her. She hooted in pleasure, giving his fingers an affectionate nip. Ed sighed, smiling sorrowfully at the owl, before she suddenly flew towards the entrance of the room. He stared at the spot where she had sat moments before, becoming more and more depressed.

This is so unfair... Alphonse didn’t deserve to die. Death is something that no one can avoid, but he should have gotten his body back first. To die and not even to be able to feel it... to simply stop existing... no one deserves that....

As he turned back to look at the landscape, he grew angry with himself, hot tears leaking from his eyes. If only I hadn’t been so selfish! It was my fault he was in that armor to begin with! It was my fault that Scar was following us! Alphonse didn’t deserve to die-- I did!

Edward heaved himself up onto the railing with difficulty, his one arm wrapped around a support beam for balance. He was breathing heavily, his senses going haywire as his anger grew. I was the one Scar was after! He should have killed me, not him!

All common sense gone now, Ed’s impetuous nature got the better of him. He abruptly stood shakily on the outside of the railing, preparing to let go of his support.

Alphonse died when I should have.... The least I can do is give the Gate what it wanted in the first place.

He let go.

Alphonse....

He was falling.

He could feel the cool night air growing cold as he sped towards the ground, hear the rush of the wind as his body cut through the sky. Even though he was falling to his death, the scientist in himself was still analyzing everything-- the wind was cold because of the force due to gravity causing his body to rush down to earth-- his body sharply displacing the air molecules and causing them to reform was creating a loud sound-- and then, quite suddenly--

He stopped.

In midair.

Inches from the ground.

Jolted by the sudden stop, Ed could think of only one thing.

Damn my luck to hell.

---

Harry was thanking every deity he could think of that he had remembered to bring his wand.

He, Ron, and Hermione had come up to the Owlery mere moments before. Hedwig, Harry’s snowy white owl, and Pigwidgeon, Ron’s pygmy owl, had immediately flown over to greet them. Pig had flitted incessantly around their heads, hooting noisily in his usual greeting, but as Hedwig landed on Harry’s arm, she had looked distracted, staring in the general direction of an area around the corner and at the far side of the Owlery.

Curious, Harry had put all thoughts of his letter aside for the time being. When he had drawn closer, he had been very shocked to see the short, blond-haired boy who had arrived with the military personnel preparing to jump from the tower. As soon as the boy had let go of the railing, the wizard had swiftly reached into his robes, grabbed his wand, and cast a hurried “Wingardium Leviosa” to catch him.

Luckily, he had been just in time, for the alchemist had come to a stop mere inches from the ground.

Now, Harry was struggling to keep the spell in effect, and he desperately called for his friends’ help. “Ron! Hermione! Get over here, and hurry!”

The two other children rushed over to their friend’s beckon and, upon seeing his distress, quickly pulled out their own wands and cast the spell, helping him to pull the boy back up into the Owlery. It was slow, hard work, but they finally managed it, and they relaxed as they set him down on the floor, taking a closer look at who they had saved.

He had blond hair and piercing golden eyes, not unlike those of Hedwig. He was rather short, although it was hard to miss the knowlege only gained by age and experience in his contenance. What made the trio recognize him as the young alchemist, however, was the mysterious absence of his right arm and left leg.

Hermione was the one who remembered his name. “You’re Major Edward Elric!” she said, excited at finally meeting him. “The Fullmetal Alchemist!” She raced over to where he sat in a heap on the dropping-strewn floor, helping him stand. The overly enthusiastic witch led him to the railing, which he leaned against, and then picked up his crutch and held it out to him.

Ron rolled his eyes at the girl’s antics, walking over to the pair. He saw the annoyance at her in Edward’s eyes, and he hurried to distract him from her stuttered fawning. “Are you alright, mate?” he asked. “You should really be more careful up here. I’m sure you know by now that it’s a long way down.”

Harry wisely stepped back several feet, recognizing the expression on the blond’s face as one he himself had often worn the previous year-- one he had worn when he was about to explode.

The alchemist snapped up his head to look into Ron’s eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed in irritation, and his expression was dark. Unlike Harry, however, he kept his temper in check, his voice a mere whisper.

“No,” he said. “I’m not alright. Because you idiot kids couldn’t mind your own damn business.”

Hermione bristled, rising to defend her friend. “We just saved your life! The least you could do is say ‘thank you!’ ”

In response, Edward turned to face the girl. “My point exactly,” he said. And without another word, the alchemist snatched his crutch from Hermione’s limp hand and clunked down the spiral staircase and out of sight.

After several silent, tense minutes, Ron opened his mouth, closed it again, swallowed, and spoke. “Blimey,” he choked out, “what was that about?”

Harry shuffled his feet and moved to send his letter. He took his time, slowly attatching it to Hedwig’s leg, and then watched her fly into the night until he could no longer see her. At last, still staring at where she had disappeared, he answered Ron’s question.

“He didn’t fall, Ron,” he said. “He jumped.”

Ron became speechless, and Hermione gasped in horror. She appeared liable to faint, wringing her hands together, before she finally stammered out a few words. “But,” she said, “but-- that would mean-- that would mean that--”

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “He was trying to kill himself.”

---

AN: Well now, I think that’s as big a cliffhanger as I’m going to get for this chapter. SO. What did y’all think? Was it worth the wait? Did you get at least a tiny bit emotional? No? Oh, dang it. And I worked really hard, too! Anyway, now you’ve read, so please review!

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Edited: 6/22/07