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prose_alchemist2015-03-02 04:48 am
jordannamorgan) wrote in prose_alchemist2015-03-02 04:48 am
Fullmetal Alchemist: Blood Brothers (2/5)
Title: Blood Brothers (2/5)
Author:jordannamorgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: PG for one rather gory scene, and scattered instances of dhampiric blood-drinking.
Characters: Alphonse, Edward, Noa, and my cast of “Hunter” alternate-world doubles.
Setting: This follows my story “Blood Ties”, but it assumes two events in that continuity did not happen: Ed and Noa were not made human again, and Ed was not returned to Amestris.
Summary: An alternative outcome to my story “Blood Ties”. Even as Edward tentatively begins to plan for a future in his dark new world, the dying Alphonse makes a choice that could reunite them once more—but at a great cost.
Disclaimer: They belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I’m just playing with them.
CHAPTER II: WAITING
Edward remembered very little of what happened for some time after that.
Later, he had a dim recollection of violently refusing to let anyone else touch Al. He carried him from the cemetery on his own, held him in his lap during the brief, silent car ride back to the Hunters’ headquarters. Of bearing Al’s body to the bedroom their father had occupied, he had no memory at all, but he was sure Noa must have guided him there. She was the only one he possibly would have allowed near him then.
He didn’t know how long he simply lay beside Al’s still form, holding him as the warmth of his flesh faded. He didn’t even know if anyone else stayed in the room with them. His consciousness could only contain the two soul-rending thoughts that chased each other through his mind, over and over.
Alphonse was dead…
But he wasn’t going to stay that way for long.
A soft knock at the door finally intruded into his chasm of numb horror, bringing him close to full awareness again. He blinked and raised his head, to see Noa rising from a chair by the door. It did not surprise him to realize she had been there the entire time, after all.
Noa opened the door to find Doctor Nash Tringham in the hallway. A human male of middling age, tall and thin and perpetually melancholy, he was officially employed as the Hunters’ secret agent in the London coroner’s office; but when necessary, he also served as their physician. Ed had met him just that morning, when he arrived before dawn to care for those wounded in the previous night’s battle. Now there were shadows under his eyes, and his straw-colored hair was rumpled, as if he had been hurriedly roused from bed.
“The Councilor explained.” Tringham’s hooded eyes shifted past Noa, to Ed and the lifeless figure in his arms. “If I may…”
With a small nod, Noa stepped aside, and Tringham entered the room with his black leather bag. He approached the bed—only to pause as Ed stiffened and clutched Al tighter, a low growl emerging from his throat.
It was a reaction that startled Ed himself. He hadn’t intended it at all, but it came instinctively from the darkness in him, with his defenses worn down by the raw pain of his emotions. Quickly suppressing his inner animal, he bowed his head and forced his tension to relax.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice rough and nearly inaudible.
When Tringham spoke, there was only a soothing gentleness and patience in his tone. “This is your brother?”
“…Yes.”
“I see. I know how protective older brothers can be. It’s the same way with my boys.” Tringham’s voice became a little softer. “You know I’m not going to hurt him. I only have to see that he’s… progressing properly.”
A shudder passed through Edward. After a long moment, his arms slipped loose from around Al’s body, and he slowly sat up on the edge of the mattress.
Tringham sat on the other side of the bed. With a glance at Ed to confirm that the elder brother was permissive, he reached down and placed his long hands on Al’s shoulders, gently peeling away the torn and bloodstained nightshirt.
The full sight of Al’s bare torso was even more shocking than it had been while clothed. Not even a newly dead corpse should have looked so terribly white and wasted. Ed stifled a groan, but he continued to watch hawkishly as Tringham’s practiced fingers moved over Al’s emaciated body, reading invisible clues about the damage beneath the skin.
What could have happened? Even apart from the price he had paid to the Gate, how could Al have become so weakened—and why was he still only a child, instead of the nearly-adult young man he should have been by now?
After a few torturously long moments, the doctor looked up at Ed.
“I can see the signs already,” he pronounced solemnly. “He’s begun to turn.”
For a moment, Ed felt violently ill. His mind refused to take any refuge in the fact that without his desperate act, Al would be gone altogether. At that time, all he could think of was the dark future that lay ahead of his brother: permanently shut away from daylight, forced to appease his body’s inescapable craving for blood.
“What about—the rest of his condition?” Noa asked quietly.
“You don’t need me to tell you he’s suffered massive internal damage. Based on that short physical exam, I can’t say precisely what was taken out of him—but the fact that he’s turning is proof that it doesn’t matter now. Most of the organs that are vital for humans only lie dormant in an undead body anyway. As long as his heart is intact, he’s going to survive and heal… You dhampirs really are remarkable creatures.” Tringham smiled sadly, but only for a moment.
“As for this wasting-away of his flesh and muscle, it may look like starvation, but that isn’t quite right somehow. His body seems to have been feeding on itself, long before the other injuries occurred. I can’t account for it… but I suspect that even without having half of his insides torn out, he would have been dead in a very short time.”
Ed started and caught his breath, staring up at the doctor in mute bewilderment and distress.
“Steady, now. If he’s half as strong as you are, I’m sure he’s going to be alright—even this way.” Tringham reached across the bed to clap a reassuring hand on Ed’s shoulder. “He shoulder recover fully, once he’s had plenty of fresh blood to nourish him.”
The thought of Alphonse even tasting blood made Ed choke. He looked away, his flesh fingers helplessly seeking Al’s limp hand on top of the bedspread.
“And on that note…” Tringham reached for his black bag. “His body is badly damaged enough that he should start being fed now. It will help accelerate his healing, and ensure that he’s calm and free of hunger when he wakes.”
From the bag, he produced a small coil of thin rubber tubing… and a bottle of unmistakable red liquid.
“What are you going to do with that?” Ed demanded in faint alarm.
“At this point, he can only be given blood through a feeding tube.” Tringham eyed the older brother’s distraught face, and rose with a sigh of fatherly sternness. “Listen. I know this is much to ask of you right now… but I think it would be best if you left me alone with him for a little while. I’ll see that he has blood, and get him cleaned up. You don’t have to worry that he’ll awaken without you,” he added, anticipating Ed’s protest. “He’ll be unconscious for hours yet. So please trust me, Edward. When you see him again, he’ll look far better, and it will be easier on you. I promise—I’ll take care of him just as I would one of my own sons.”
Everything within Ed wanted to refuse, to stay by Al’s side, but something about the sincerity of those last few words gave him pause.
In this world, Russell and Fletcher Tringham were somewhat younger and more innocent than the counterparts Ed had once known. Mere boys not much older than Al himself now appeared to be, they were the great love and pride of the doctor’s life… and he quietly agonized over their youthful ambition to become Hunters like him. He didn’t want them to follow him into the night world in which he served. He didn’t want to see one or both of them die, or meet the same fate as Al.
Ed knew all of that from Noa’s memories. It gave him an understanding of just how strongly Tringham sympathized with him, and how he would feel about looking after a child who was loved by someone else, just as he loved his own. He was a man who could be trusted with that task.
It took a great effort, but Ed acquiesced. Once more he gently brushed his fingers through Al’s hair, and then he rose slowly, feeling very old and weary. He moved toward the door, only to pause there, looking back at Tringham gravely.
“You’ll call me as soon as you’re finished?”
“Of course. He’s not aware of any of our presences now—but you should be the one he sees when he wakes up.”
For a moment more Ed hesitated, but his resolve was strengthened when Noa touched his arm and gave him a nod of encouragement. Taking a deep breath that he didn’t need, he stepped out into the hall without looking back, and she followed him.
As Noa closed the door, Ed sagged forward against the opposite wall, leaning his head on his arms. What he really wanted to do was either break down weeping or punch a hole through the plaster, but by some effort of self-control he didn’t expect of himself, he somehow succeeded in doing neither.
“This is what’s best,” Noa said softly, as her hand came to rest on his back. “It can be… difficult to tend to a foundling at this stage, even if it’s someone you never knew as a human. With your brother, so soon after you’ve been through it yourself… Doctor Tringham was right. Better to let someone more experienced do the things that have to be done now.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Al will need you soon enough.”
“I can’t believe this has happened.” Ed swallowed hard and turned, bracing his back against the wall. He found himself staring at his hand. His fingers closed over the palm he had pierced to spill his blood into Al, tightening until the nails bit painfully into flesh.
“Don’t, Ed.” Noa took his hand in both of hers, prying his fingers open. They had not drawn blood, and the bite he had inflicted on himself was long since healed. “It’s going to be alright—because he’s going to be with you now. You know he never wanted anything more than that.”
Councilor Bradley’s voice broke in at that moment, coming from the end of the hall at the head of the staircase. “How is he?”
Faintly surprised, Ed blinked and turned his head. He had been too wrapped up in his misery to realize that Bradley, Jean, and Roy were there, seated in the same comfortable alcove where he had shown his father the monster he now was… Could it really have been less than two days before?
Noa answered. “Whatever the Gate did to Al, it didn’t damage him enough to prevent him from turning. Doctor Tringham is seeing that he… he won’t have any needs, when he wakes up.”
A thin smile crinkled Bradley’s lips, and he nodded at Ed. “I meant this one.”
“How do you think I feel? My brother sacrificed his life, just to try to find me… and now he won’t even be human anymore because of me.” Ed closed his eyes and pushed away from the wall, bowing his head. “I broke the law of the Hunters. I did it for nothing but my own selfishness—and I’ll accept any punishment I’ve got coming. Just… don’t let him suffer for it.”
There was a brief, bemused pause. At last Roy’s voice replied, with a touch of wryness.
“You know, you’re still kind of an idiot.”
Rankled, Ed opened his eyes, but his retort perished when he saw the way the other Hunters were looking back at him. He couldn’t quite give a name to what he saw in their expressions, but there was neither accusation nor pity there.
“The rules about breaking the taboo were exactly what we were just sitting here talking about,” Jean elaborated, hanging his elbows over the back of his wicker chair. “And we figured out there’s three reasons why the usual procedures won’t fly in this case.”
“Well, it was mostly Councilor Bradley,” Roy offered.
Noa seemed to be irritated by their coyness. She planted herself protectively halfway in front of Ed, bracing her hands on her hips. “What are you two talking about?”
“Point number one,” Roy said briskly. “In case you’ve forgotten, the Council is kind of a mess. They’re not really in a condition to be judging these kinds of cases right now—and besides that, we’re still not sure we won’t end up fighting for our lives against Hunter factions that decide alchemists are more of a threat than vampires. When we may be needing all the help we can get real soon, it wouldn’t do us much good to exile or execute the best alchemist we’ve got.”
Jean continued. “Point number two: your brother’s an alchemist straight from the source, like you. Later on, after he adjusts, he could be a big help in teaching others to use alchemy to kill vampires. That was the whole reason Noa turned you, after all—and since nobody’s exactly been talking about punishing her, it’d be sorta hypocritical to do it to you.”
Ed’s eyes narrowed, glancing back and forth between Roy and Jean. He was fairly sure he wasn’t liking at least some of their logic, but at the moment, he was unable to argue with it.
“…And point number three?”
Bradley smiled, rather sadly. “Edward, remember that when you shared your memories with us, you gave us much more than the knowledge of alchemy. We’ve felt what you feel toward Alphonse—and that’s why we know the bond between you is unique. It really wasn’t a separate life you were preserving. It was a part of you. No man deserves to suffer for that.
“And furthermore…” The Councilor sobered. “In itself, Alphonse’s turning has already dictated the burden you bear for the deed.”
“What?”
Roy shrugged. “You’re in more or less the same boat as I am, Fullmetal. Even though I didn’t exactly choose it for myself the way you did, I’ve taken responsibility for Riza, because it was my blood that turned her. The same is true of you and Al.”
“Wait a minute,” Ed breathed. “You mean that it’s my place to…?”
“I should think that nothing would be more obvious,” Bradley said reasonably. “You’ve been Alphonse’s guardian and guide for your entire lives—and the rest of us will be strangers to him, even if we may look familiar. At least in the beginning, you’re the only one he’s going to trust and rely on as he tries to adapt. You see, he could never be anyone else’s foundling.”
The word had seemed weighty enough from the other side of the equation, when Ed applied it to himself in relation to Noa. Now it suddenly felt like an iron anvil in the pit of his stomach.
“But I’ve only been a dhampir myself for eight days!” Ed turned a confused gaze to Noa. “How can I teach Al, when I still have so much left to learn? How can I face explaining to him…” He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. “The things he’ll have to do to survive?”
Noa answered him, very softly. “How did you explain to him that the seal inside his armor could never touch water, or that it was drawn with your own blood—and that when you were only eleven years old?”
The words made Ed look up sharply, startled and troubled. All this time, the ugly irony of that parallel had been lurking in the back of his mind: once again he had broken a taboo, leaving Al to suffer the worst consequences. Once again, his own impulsiveness would force Al to relearn a completely new kind of existence.
Yet this time, Al wouldn’t be alone in empty steel. His body was cold, but it was flesh and blood—and its nature was the same as Ed’s. All the strangeness and horror that Al would feel as a dhampir, Ed himself would share.
Down the hallway, the door to Al’s room opened. Doctor Tringham stepped out with his bag. If anything, he looked more tired than he had on arriving, but he smiled hollowly at the group of dhampirs as he approached the alcove.
“It’s all taken care of now. Given the boy’s condition before turning, I expect he’ll be weak at first, but a few days’ rest and nourishment should allow his body to build itself back up easily.” Tringham yawned abruptly, stretching one arm upward to scratch the back of his neck. “And now I’d appreciate it if you’ll do me the service of not getting yourselves turned or injured at hours when mere mortals are supposed to be sleeping. This is two nights in a row. I have a day job, you know.”
Bradley chuckled somberly. “We’re in your debt, Doctor. Good night.”
With a parting nod, Tringham proceeded down the stairs. Ed watched him for a moment, and then turned to gaze reluctantly at the closed door beyond which his brother lay.
Noa squeezed Ed’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a while—but I know you won’t want to be anywhere else. Go on.”
He needed no further prodding. With nervous haste, he strode down the hall and slipped into the room. He closed the door with quietness and care, and then stood gripping the doorknob for a long moment, as he gathered the courage to turn around.
When he finally did, he was startled by the difference in what he saw.
Alphonse lay inanimate on the bed as before, but his previously bare white flesh was now semi-clothed in an oversized black shirt that served as a makeshift nightshirt. The blood-streaked sheets had been stripped from the mattress, and a clean one spread beneath him. Ed realized the doctor must have done some adroit maneuvering of Al’s limp body to accomplish all that. To his somewhat irrational relief, Tringham had not folded Al’s hands over his unbreathing chest like a corpse, but left them resting at his sides instead. His head lay upon a fresh pillow, eyes closed. He looked almost as if he was only sleeping peacefully.
Upon stepping closer, Ed could see that all remaining traces of blood had been washed from Al’s skin. Moreover, his color was a little different. He was still very pale—and he always would be now, as a dhampir—but it was not the ghastly whiteness his internal bleeding had caused. The blood fed into him by Tringham was already at work in his changing body, fueling the repair and regeneration of flesh and muscles.
Leaning over the bedside, Ed studied Al’s face closely. He could see it already: a little of the terrible gauntness had faded, softening the lines of his brother’s features. It was only a start now, but it would progress ever more quickly as Al strengthened.
Even the smell of him had changed. It was still the scent Ed recognized so well, but it was becoming more subtle, and there was an altered note to it that triggered entirely new reactions in Ed’s instincts. A human scent, no matter how beloved that human might be, inevitably whispered prey within a dhampir’s brain and body; but Al’s scent no longer carried that message. Instead, it spoke darkly of… likeness.
They were the same species now—and both frighteningly far from human.
A faint sickness squirmed in Ed’s stomach. He sank down onto the chair at the bedside, and reached out, his fingertips barely brushing across the knuckles of Al’s right hand.
“I’m sorry, Al.”
The sound of a gentle tap at the door pulled him back from the dark place his heart was creeping toward. Ed heaved a sigh, raised his head, and answered sullenly: “Come in.”
He was not surprised when Noa stepped in. He was, however, bemused to see her carrying a bundle of clothes in austere Hunter black. She set them on the bureau, and it only occurred to him then that the garments he was wearing were still liberally stained with blood.
Al’s human blood. It was the last fragment of his mortality… but useless now. Worse than useless, because the scent of it could easily disturb him when he awakened, still weak and in need of healing nourishment.
Noa knew. She had known it when Ed was in Al’s place, for even in the crude shelter of an abandoned house, she took care to wash away Ed’s spilled blood while he was unconscious. She was so thoroughly prepared for her duties to her foundling—but he had already neglected even something that simple.
Chastened, Ed began to rise, with a word of thanks rising to his lips… but he was halted by the sight of the blood-filled flask Noa was clutching as she turned to him.
“…More, so soon?” he asked, and winced at the unsteady smallness of his voice.
“It’s not for Al. This is for you.” Noa stepped to the opposite side of the bed, and held out the flask. “It will steady your nerves.”
She was right, of course. Edward eyed the flask for only a moment before he accepted it from her. He downed its contents in a few short gulps, too tired to feel guilty about not feeling guilty anymore.
The beef blood wasn’t warm, but its dull tingle as it went down was the closest a dhampir could come to feeling warm on the inside. Ed closed his eyes and let it saturate his being for a few moments. He wondered if this was anything like the way a fix felt for a junkie or an alcoholic—but blood was no mere vice for a dhampir. It was the price for survival and sanity, a nourishment demanded by the parasitic homunculus blood that kept his body just alive enough to serve its hunger.
Perhaps there was a poetic justice in his fate. As an ignorant boy, he had broken the most sacred law of alchemy, and now he suffered the most horrifying consequence of other alchemists’ sins: the evil unleashed upon this world by human transmutation had become a part of him. It had redesigned his entire being, given him an animal’s strengths and instincts with which to hunt prey… and if he did not feed it the essence of life for which it lusted, it would consume him instead, unleashing a predatory rage to ensure that its appetite was satisfied.
Ed had already skirted that madness once, and barely escaped. The possibility that it might ever claim Alphonse…
He refused to let his mind go there. That thought would drive him mad just as surely.
Noa had retreated into the adjoining bathroom. She returned with a bowl of steaming water and a washcloth. As she set them beside the change of clothes, she gave him a small, demure shrug. “You should clean up. Al will get upset if he sees blood on you.”
That was true—and it was motivation enough. Crossing the room to the bureau, Ed set down the empty flask, hard enough to chip the glass against the wood. He unbuttoned his bloodstained shirt, let it fall from his shoulders, and reluctantly grasped the cloth to wash away the last traces of Al’s humanity that had soaked through onto his skin.
“…Here.”
Noa was at his side then, gently taking the cloth out of his hand, wiping off a red smudge he hadn’t known was on his cheek. She worked her way down his neck and chest where he had cradled Al against him, lingered meticulously on a trickle of dried blood that had collected along the edge of his automail port.
Someday, in a moment like this, when the blood was not his brother’s but that of a slain homunculus-vampire… he would let himself enjoy it.
“You didn’t stop me,” he observed quietly. There was no accusation in his tone, and barely even a trace of curiosity.
The movement of the cloth against his chest halted. Noa’s gaze fell.
“I couldn’t. Not knowing—not feeling what you’ve felt.” She looked up at him, her eyes uncertain and a little afraid. “Was I wrong?”
“…I don’t know.”
There was a long moment’s silence between them. At last Noa turned away abruptly, twisting the cloth in her hands.
“Earlier tonight, Ed. Before… before the Gate.” Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard. “I’ll forget that it happened.”
When Ed realized what she was talking about, the brusque statement pierced his heart. He gripped her shoulder with steel fingers and turned her to face him, searching her face in confusion. “Why would you say that?”
She stared up at him, wide-eyed; equally perplexed, it seemed, that he had to ask.
“Because—you have Al now. He’s all that matters.”
It was an answer that would have taken his breath away, had he still been breathing. Noa expected to step aside. She was prepared to take not a moment of his time or a fraction of his love away from Al, the only other person he had known how to love for so long.
Such selfless love for him—for himself and Al both—only made his reply all the stronger, all the easier to give.
“You should know better than that.” He drew her into an embrace, leaning his head against hers. “Al and I used to believe that all we had in our world was each other, but we were wrong. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m not letting go of anything anymore—including you.” A melancholy smile crossed his lips. “After all… Hunters work in packs, don’t they?”
They were just the right words to say. Ed felt Noa’s uncertainty melt away in his arms, and she clung to him, breathing out a soft half-laugh of gladness and love.
“I’m still your foundling,” he continued gently against her ear. He glanced at Al’s unconscious form, and his smile became more pained. “Even if I do have a foundling of my own now, I still need your help… to do this right.”
Noa drew back from him, returning a sad smile of her own, as her hands entwined with his. Her eyes were misty, but no tears had fallen.
“I’ll do everything I can,” she promised. Her eyes darkened a little as she studied his face. “What matters most is that you just let Al know… it’s alright to be what you’ve both become. For him to be able to accept it, he needs to see that you have, too.”
Ed wasn’t quite sure if there was a question buried within the statement, but he answered it anyway.
“I’m not sorry for what happened to me. Not anymore.” He gazed somberly at his brother. “Becoming a dhampir may be a heavy price to pay for survival… but it’s worth it. I believe that now.”
He felt Noa squeeze his left hand, and they stood in silence for a few moments, looking down at Alphonse on the bed.
“He’s so young,” Noa murmured at length. “I thought he was only a year younger than you.”
Ed glanced at her keenly. “How old do you think he is now?”
She contemplated Al’s face for a long moment. “Even with that sickness, whatever it was, making him look smaller than he should… I’d say no more than eleven or twelve.”
“Twelve is how old he would be—if you didn’t count the five years of our journey together, while his soul was in the armor.”
“Then you think his body didn’t age while it was lost inside the Gate?”
“It’s the only explanation that makes sense.” Ed frowned. “He was ten years old when it was taken. Those two years it’s aged since then can only be… the last two years, while we were separated. And that means…”
“His body was returned to him when you crossed the Gate.” Noa’s hand tightened in Ed’s again. “You kept your promise. You paid the price to get it back.”
“Yes, but… the sickness. Tringham said it was killing him, even before he…” Ed swallowed hard and shook his head. “What caused it? Why would Al get his body back, only to begin dying slowly? Was the price I paid not enough to give him back a full lifetime?”
“Don’t try to question it yet, Ed. Al may be able to explain it later. All that matters now is that he’s here with you.”
The mystery frustrated Ed, but he realized it was true that no answers were within reach at the moment. With a sigh he gazed down at Al’s face, and was briefly silent—until another disconcerting thought reared its head.
“Wait a sec. If dhampirs don’t age… he won’t be like this forever, will he?”
Noa shook her head. “No. When children are turned, their bodies still grow. It just happens much more slowly. In Al’s case, it will probably take thirty or forty years for him to physically mature—and then his aging will stop. He’ll look the same age as you and I then. But in the meantime… his mind should develop at a normal rate. It’s only his body that will be underaged, for a long time to come.”
Ed winced. “Somehow I don’t think Al is gonna be happy about that. His growing up was already delayed for five years… On the other hand, even as a dhampir, maybe he can still have back a small part of the childhood I took from him.” He forced an aching smile. “At least it’ll be a few decades before he’s taller than me again.”
The strained effort at humor earned a rueful twitch of Noa’s lips. She reached up to squeeze his shoulder gently.
“It’s almost sunrise outside. You should rest now. You’ll want to be at your best when Al wakes up.”
It was a suggestion Ed couldn’t argue with. He too had begun to feel the faint sensation of inner pressure that warned dhampirs to take shelter from the sun; and he did need rest, still emotionally and physically exhausted from the struggles and tragedies of the last few days. His father’s death had left him too full of somber thoughts to sleep much the previous afternoon. However, even with his new stamina—and even with the burden of Al’s condition weighing heavy on his heart—the fatigue he felt by this point would not be denied for much longer.
Now cleansed of Al’s blood, Ed retreated into the washroom with the bundle of clothes Noa had brought him. He changed his trousers, which were still stained with a few long-dried streaks of redness, but he didn’t bother putting on a fresh shirt. It was needless then, as he intended to do nothing other than sleep. Only a few hours would be enough, but he would probably let himself lie dormant until the next sunset anyway, unless Al began to stir before then.
When he returned, Noa was still beside the bed, thoughtfully studying Al’s face. Ed found he was glad she hadn’t left yet. There was a need in his heart that he couldn’t quite define; all he knew was that he wanted her near him. In better times to come, he realized the closeness he desired would be of a more intimate kind, but for now he craved only the part of Noa’s love that provided spiritual sympathy and comfort.
Moving over to her, he took her in his arms and kissed her softly. She responded with no further trace of doubt or uncertainty, and they held each other for a long moment.
“I should go now,” she said at last, and began to take a step back toward the door; but his flesh hand caught hers.
“…No. Please.” Swallowing hard, Ed glanced meaningfully toward the large bed on which Alphonse lay. “I’d like… for you to stay.”
Noa caught her breath faintly, her eyes widening. She hesitated for a brief moment. Then, in silent acceptance of his wish, she moved toward the nearer side of the bed.
With a quiver of oddly nervous anticipation, not sure why this was so important to him, Ed followed her. He laid down next to Al, and watched as Noa rather gingerly settled opposite him. They faced each other then, with Al’s pale, still form sheltered between them… and from the most bestial depths of his dhampir impulses, Ed felt a strange kind of contentment he had never known before.
For the first time since his mother’s death, something inside of him whispered the feeling of home. It went even beyond having Al back. He was surrounded by a place and people he had sworn to protect, to make his own. In that moment, on that bed, he was lying safe in his nest with his brother—and with… his mate. Or at least, the woman he loved and intended to have as his mate, when the proper time came. It startled him to realize that his heart had already claimed Noa in that way.
All of these reactions were deeply primal and involuntary, but Ed couldn’t bring himself to mind. If it was his fate—their fate—to be no longer human, at least there was consolation in these innocent animal feelings. The tender, protective pack instincts of dhampirs could not have been more different from the bloodlust and savagery at the other extreme of their nature. If only humans could form such bonds, he wondered what the world would be like.
Breaking off her gaze almost shyly from Ed’s, Noa closed her eyes, and became as lifelessly still as Al. It was no longer alarming to Ed by now, after seeing her asleep like that in their cellar refuge during their time spent hunting for Envy. He permitted himself to study her for a few long moments, taking in the serene beauty of her face in repose. She looked as if she could have been nothing more than the humble young gypsy she once was… but Ed knew better. He had seen her strength, her skill, the intensity of her resolve.
She had pledged all of those things to him, even before he knew he loved her. At first it was because she believed he would bring this world its only hope against vampires; yet even after she shared his memories, saw how weak and flawed he could be, her faith in him only grew stronger. It was no longer about her devotion to a cause, but her own love for him.
And Al… Ed smiled sadly as his glance shifted to his brother’s face. Many times in their difficult childhood-that-wasn’t, he had caught himself feeling almost more like a father to Al than a brother, focused so single-mindedly on caring for him. Between the youth of Al’s restored body, and the new instincts Ed possessed, that sense was now even stronger. Indeed, his burden truly had become more like that of a parent than ever. He faced the responsibility of bringing Al up in a new existence: guiding him to master the needs and powers of his dhampiric condition, to understand its rights and wrongs, almost as if he really was a child again. The thought had terrified Ed before, and in many ways it still did… but at this moment, there was also something about it that felt bittersweetly touching.
Nor would this life be only about the three of them. With the introduction of alchemy causing ripples of upheaval to spread throughout the Hunters’ organization, Ed couldn’t guess what the future might hold—but he knew they would share it with Roy and Jean and the others here in London. Somehow, they would find their way together through whatever was to come.
At least beyond himself and Al as brothers, Ed was unused to thinking of himself as a part of a greater whole—and perhaps that was the point. Perhaps enduring all that had happened was the only way he could ever learn that lesson. Caught up for so long in his own narrow goals, he had never deliberately aspired to change an entire world, until now… but even he couldn’t do that alone.
Now he knew that he didn’t have to.
Closing his eyes, Edward let himself slip quietly into a sleep that was without dreams—but not without hope.
© 2015 Jordanna Morgan
CHAPTERS: I. - II. - III. - IV. - V. - Epilogue
Author:
jordannamorganArchive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: PG for one rather gory scene, and scattered instances of dhampiric blood-drinking.
Characters: Alphonse, Edward, Noa, and my cast of “Hunter” alternate-world doubles.
Setting: This follows my story “Blood Ties”, but it assumes two events in that continuity did not happen: Ed and Noa were not made human again, and Ed was not returned to Amestris.
Summary: An alternative outcome to my story “Blood Ties”. Even as Edward tentatively begins to plan for a future in his dark new world, the dying Alphonse makes a choice that could reunite them once more—but at a great cost.
Disclaimer: They belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I’m just playing with them.
Edward remembered very little of what happened for some time after that.
Later, he had a dim recollection of violently refusing to let anyone else touch Al. He carried him from the cemetery on his own, held him in his lap during the brief, silent car ride back to the Hunters’ headquarters. Of bearing Al’s body to the bedroom their father had occupied, he had no memory at all, but he was sure Noa must have guided him there. She was the only one he possibly would have allowed near him then.
He didn’t know how long he simply lay beside Al’s still form, holding him as the warmth of his flesh faded. He didn’t even know if anyone else stayed in the room with them. His consciousness could only contain the two soul-rending thoughts that chased each other through his mind, over and over.
Alphonse was dead…
But he wasn’t going to stay that way for long.
A soft knock at the door finally intruded into his chasm of numb horror, bringing him close to full awareness again. He blinked and raised his head, to see Noa rising from a chair by the door. It did not surprise him to realize she had been there the entire time, after all.
Noa opened the door to find Doctor Nash Tringham in the hallway. A human male of middling age, tall and thin and perpetually melancholy, he was officially employed as the Hunters’ secret agent in the London coroner’s office; but when necessary, he also served as their physician. Ed had met him just that morning, when he arrived before dawn to care for those wounded in the previous night’s battle. Now there were shadows under his eyes, and his straw-colored hair was rumpled, as if he had been hurriedly roused from bed.
“The Councilor explained.” Tringham’s hooded eyes shifted past Noa, to Ed and the lifeless figure in his arms. “If I may…”
With a small nod, Noa stepped aside, and Tringham entered the room with his black leather bag. He approached the bed—only to pause as Ed stiffened and clutched Al tighter, a low growl emerging from his throat.
It was a reaction that startled Ed himself. He hadn’t intended it at all, but it came instinctively from the darkness in him, with his defenses worn down by the raw pain of his emotions. Quickly suppressing his inner animal, he bowed his head and forced his tension to relax.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice rough and nearly inaudible.
When Tringham spoke, there was only a soothing gentleness and patience in his tone. “This is your brother?”
“…Yes.”
“I see. I know how protective older brothers can be. It’s the same way with my boys.” Tringham’s voice became a little softer. “You know I’m not going to hurt him. I only have to see that he’s… progressing properly.”
A shudder passed through Edward. After a long moment, his arms slipped loose from around Al’s body, and he slowly sat up on the edge of the mattress.
Tringham sat on the other side of the bed. With a glance at Ed to confirm that the elder brother was permissive, he reached down and placed his long hands on Al’s shoulders, gently peeling away the torn and bloodstained nightshirt.
The full sight of Al’s bare torso was even more shocking than it had been while clothed. Not even a newly dead corpse should have looked so terribly white and wasted. Ed stifled a groan, but he continued to watch hawkishly as Tringham’s practiced fingers moved over Al’s emaciated body, reading invisible clues about the damage beneath the skin.
What could have happened? Even apart from the price he had paid to the Gate, how could Al have become so weakened—and why was he still only a child, instead of the nearly-adult young man he should have been by now?
After a few torturously long moments, the doctor looked up at Ed.
“I can see the signs already,” he pronounced solemnly. “He’s begun to turn.”
For a moment, Ed felt violently ill. His mind refused to take any refuge in the fact that without his desperate act, Al would be gone altogether. At that time, all he could think of was the dark future that lay ahead of his brother: permanently shut away from daylight, forced to appease his body’s inescapable craving for blood.
“What about—the rest of his condition?” Noa asked quietly.
“You don’t need me to tell you he’s suffered massive internal damage. Based on that short physical exam, I can’t say precisely what was taken out of him—but the fact that he’s turning is proof that it doesn’t matter now. Most of the organs that are vital for humans only lie dormant in an undead body anyway. As long as his heart is intact, he’s going to survive and heal… You dhampirs really are remarkable creatures.” Tringham smiled sadly, but only for a moment.
“As for this wasting-away of his flesh and muscle, it may look like starvation, but that isn’t quite right somehow. His body seems to have been feeding on itself, long before the other injuries occurred. I can’t account for it… but I suspect that even without having half of his insides torn out, he would have been dead in a very short time.”
Ed started and caught his breath, staring up at the doctor in mute bewilderment and distress.
“Steady, now. If he’s half as strong as you are, I’m sure he’s going to be alright—even this way.” Tringham reached across the bed to clap a reassuring hand on Ed’s shoulder. “He shoulder recover fully, once he’s had plenty of fresh blood to nourish him.”
The thought of Alphonse even tasting blood made Ed choke. He looked away, his flesh fingers helplessly seeking Al’s limp hand on top of the bedspread.
“And on that note…” Tringham reached for his black bag. “His body is badly damaged enough that he should start being fed now. It will help accelerate his healing, and ensure that he’s calm and free of hunger when he wakes.”
From the bag, he produced a small coil of thin rubber tubing… and a bottle of unmistakable red liquid.
“What are you going to do with that?” Ed demanded in faint alarm.
“At this point, he can only be given blood through a feeding tube.” Tringham eyed the older brother’s distraught face, and rose with a sigh of fatherly sternness. “Listen. I know this is much to ask of you right now… but I think it would be best if you left me alone with him for a little while. I’ll see that he has blood, and get him cleaned up. You don’t have to worry that he’ll awaken without you,” he added, anticipating Ed’s protest. “He’ll be unconscious for hours yet. So please trust me, Edward. When you see him again, he’ll look far better, and it will be easier on you. I promise—I’ll take care of him just as I would one of my own sons.”
Everything within Ed wanted to refuse, to stay by Al’s side, but something about the sincerity of those last few words gave him pause.
In this world, Russell and Fletcher Tringham were somewhat younger and more innocent than the counterparts Ed had once known. Mere boys not much older than Al himself now appeared to be, they were the great love and pride of the doctor’s life… and he quietly agonized over their youthful ambition to become Hunters like him. He didn’t want them to follow him into the night world in which he served. He didn’t want to see one or both of them die, or meet the same fate as Al.
Ed knew all of that from Noa’s memories. It gave him an understanding of just how strongly Tringham sympathized with him, and how he would feel about looking after a child who was loved by someone else, just as he loved his own. He was a man who could be trusted with that task.
It took a great effort, but Ed acquiesced. Once more he gently brushed his fingers through Al’s hair, and then he rose slowly, feeling very old and weary. He moved toward the door, only to pause there, looking back at Tringham gravely.
“You’ll call me as soon as you’re finished?”
“Of course. He’s not aware of any of our presences now—but you should be the one he sees when he wakes up.”
For a moment more Ed hesitated, but his resolve was strengthened when Noa touched his arm and gave him a nod of encouragement. Taking a deep breath that he didn’t need, he stepped out into the hall without looking back, and she followed him.
As Noa closed the door, Ed sagged forward against the opposite wall, leaning his head on his arms. What he really wanted to do was either break down weeping or punch a hole through the plaster, but by some effort of self-control he didn’t expect of himself, he somehow succeeded in doing neither.
“This is what’s best,” Noa said softly, as her hand came to rest on his back. “It can be… difficult to tend to a foundling at this stage, even if it’s someone you never knew as a human. With your brother, so soon after you’ve been through it yourself… Doctor Tringham was right. Better to let someone more experienced do the things that have to be done now.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Al will need you soon enough.”
“I can’t believe this has happened.” Ed swallowed hard and turned, bracing his back against the wall. He found himself staring at his hand. His fingers closed over the palm he had pierced to spill his blood into Al, tightening until the nails bit painfully into flesh.
“Don’t, Ed.” Noa took his hand in both of hers, prying his fingers open. They had not drawn blood, and the bite he had inflicted on himself was long since healed. “It’s going to be alright—because he’s going to be with you now. You know he never wanted anything more than that.”
Councilor Bradley’s voice broke in at that moment, coming from the end of the hall at the head of the staircase. “How is he?”
Faintly surprised, Ed blinked and turned his head. He had been too wrapped up in his misery to realize that Bradley, Jean, and Roy were there, seated in the same comfortable alcove where he had shown his father the monster he now was… Could it really have been less than two days before?
Noa answered. “Whatever the Gate did to Al, it didn’t damage him enough to prevent him from turning. Doctor Tringham is seeing that he… he won’t have any needs, when he wakes up.”
A thin smile crinkled Bradley’s lips, and he nodded at Ed. “I meant this one.”
“How do you think I feel? My brother sacrificed his life, just to try to find me… and now he won’t even be human anymore because of me.” Ed closed his eyes and pushed away from the wall, bowing his head. “I broke the law of the Hunters. I did it for nothing but my own selfishness—and I’ll accept any punishment I’ve got coming. Just… don’t let him suffer for it.”
There was a brief, bemused pause. At last Roy’s voice replied, with a touch of wryness.
“You know, you’re still kind of an idiot.”
Rankled, Ed opened his eyes, but his retort perished when he saw the way the other Hunters were looking back at him. He couldn’t quite give a name to what he saw in their expressions, but there was neither accusation nor pity there.
“The rules about breaking the taboo were exactly what we were just sitting here talking about,” Jean elaborated, hanging his elbows over the back of his wicker chair. “And we figured out there’s three reasons why the usual procedures won’t fly in this case.”
“Well, it was mostly Councilor Bradley,” Roy offered.
Noa seemed to be irritated by their coyness. She planted herself protectively halfway in front of Ed, bracing her hands on her hips. “What are you two talking about?”
“Point number one,” Roy said briskly. “In case you’ve forgotten, the Council is kind of a mess. They’re not really in a condition to be judging these kinds of cases right now—and besides that, we’re still not sure we won’t end up fighting for our lives against Hunter factions that decide alchemists are more of a threat than vampires. When we may be needing all the help we can get real soon, it wouldn’t do us much good to exile or execute the best alchemist we’ve got.”
Jean continued. “Point number two: your brother’s an alchemist straight from the source, like you. Later on, after he adjusts, he could be a big help in teaching others to use alchemy to kill vampires. That was the whole reason Noa turned you, after all—and since nobody’s exactly been talking about punishing her, it’d be sorta hypocritical to do it to you.”
Ed’s eyes narrowed, glancing back and forth between Roy and Jean. He was fairly sure he wasn’t liking at least some of their logic, but at the moment, he was unable to argue with it.
“…And point number three?”
Bradley smiled, rather sadly. “Edward, remember that when you shared your memories with us, you gave us much more than the knowledge of alchemy. We’ve felt what you feel toward Alphonse—and that’s why we know the bond between you is unique. It really wasn’t a separate life you were preserving. It was a part of you. No man deserves to suffer for that.
“And furthermore…” The Councilor sobered. “In itself, Alphonse’s turning has already dictated the burden you bear for the deed.”
“What?”
Roy shrugged. “You’re in more or less the same boat as I am, Fullmetal. Even though I didn’t exactly choose it for myself the way you did, I’ve taken responsibility for Riza, because it was my blood that turned her. The same is true of you and Al.”
“Wait a minute,” Ed breathed. “You mean that it’s my place to…?”
“I should think that nothing would be more obvious,” Bradley said reasonably. “You’ve been Alphonse’s guardian and guide for your entire lives—and the rest of us will be strangers to him, even if we may look familiar. At least in the beginning, you’re the only one he’s going to trust and rely on as he tries to adapt. You see, he could never be anyone else’s foundling.”
The word had seemed weighty enough from the other side of the equation, when Ed applied it to himself in relation to Noa. Now it suddenly felt like an iron anvil in the pit of his stomach.
“But I’ve only been a dhampir myself for eight days!” Ed turned a confused gaze to Noa. “How can I teach Al, when I still have so much left to learn? How can I face explaining to him…” He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. “The things he’ll have to do to survive?”
Noa answered him, very softly. “How did you explain to him that the seal inside his armor could never touch water, or that it was drawn with your own blood—and that when you were only eleven years old?”
The words made Ed look up sharply, startled and troubled. All this time, the ugly irony of that parallel had been lurking in the back of his mind: once again he had broken a taboo, leaving Al to suffer the worst consequences. Once again, his own impulsiveness would force Al to relearn a completely new kind of existence.
Yet this time, Al wouldn’t be alone in empty steel. His body was cold, but it was flesh and blood—and its nature was the same as Ed’s. All the strangeness and horror that Al would feel as a dhampir, Ed himself would share.
Down the hallway, the door to Al’s room opened. Doctor Tringham stepped out with his bag. If anything, he looked more tired than he had on arriving, but he smiled hollowly at the group of dhampirs as he approached the alcove.
“It’s all taken care of now. Given the boy’s condition before turning, I expect he’ll be weak at first, but a few days’ rest and nourishment should allow his body to build itself back up easily.” Tringham yawned abruptly, stretching one arm upward to scratch the back of his neck. “And now I’d appreciate it if you’ll do me the service of not getting yourselves turned or injured at hours when mere mortals are supposed to be sleeping. This is two nights in a row. I have a day job, you know.”
Bradley chuckled somberly. “We’re in your debt, Doctor. Good night.”
With a parting nod, Tringham proceeded down the stairs. Ed watched him for a moment, and then turned to gaze reluctantly at the closed door beyond which his brother lay.
Noa squeezed Ed’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a while—but I know you won’t want to be anywhere else. Go on.”
He needed no further prodding. With nervous haste, he strode down the hall and slipped into the room. He closed the door with quietness and care, and then stood gripping the doorknob for a long moment, as he gathered the courage to turn around.
When he finally did, he was startled by the difference in what he saw.
Alphonse lay inanimate on the bed as before, but his previously bare white flesh was now semi-clothed in an oversized black shirt that served as a makeshift nightshirt. The blood-streaked sheets had been stripped from the mattress, and a clean one spread beneath him. Ed realized the doctor must have done some adroit maneuvering of Al’s limp body to accomplish all that. To his somewhat irrational relief, Tringham had not folded Al’s hands over his unbreathing chest like a corpse, but left them resting at his sides instead. His head lay upon a fresh pillow, eyes closed. He looked almost as if he was only sleeping peacefully.
Upon stepping closer, Ed could see that all remaining traces of blood had been washed from Al’s skin. Moreover, his color was a little different. He was still very pale—and he always would be now, as a dhampir—but it was not the ghastly whiteness his internal bleeding had caused. The blood fed into him by Tringham was already at work in his changing body, fueling the repair and regeneration of flesh and muscles.
Leaning over the bedside, Ed studied Al’s face closely. He could see it already: a little of the terrible gauntness had faded, softening the lines of his brother’s features. It was only a start now, but it would progress ever more quickly as Al strengthened.
Even the smell of him had changed. It was still the scent Ed recognized so well, but it was becoming more subtle, and there was an altered note to it that triggered entirely new reactions in Ed’s instincts. A human scent, no matter how beloved that human might be, inevitably whispered prey within a dhampir’s brain and body; but Al’s scent no longer carried that message. Instead, it spoke darkly of… likeness.
They were the same species now—and both frighteningly far from human.
A faint sickness squirmed in Ed’s stomach. He sank down onto the chair at the bedside, and reached out, his fingertips barely brushing across the knuckles of Al’s right hand.
“I’m sorry, Al.”
The sound of a gentle tap at the door pulled him back from the dark place his heart was creeping toward. Ed heaved a sigh, raised his head, and answered sullenly: “Come in.”
He was not surprised when Noa stepped in. He was, however, bemused to see her carrying a bundle of clothes in austere Hunter black. She set them on the bureau, and it only occurred to him then that the garments he was wearing were still liberally stained with blood.
Al’s human blood. It was the last fragment of his mortality… but useless now. Worse than useless, because the scent of it could easily disturb him when he awakened, still weak and in need of healing nourishment.
Noa knew. She had known it when Ed was in Al’s place, for even in the crude shelter of an abandoned house, she took care to wash away Ed’s spilled blood while he was unconscious. She was so thoroughly prepared for her duties to her foundling—but he had already neglected even something that simple.
Chastened, Ed began to rise, with a word of thanks rising to his lips… but he was halted by the sight of the blood-filled flask Noa was clutching as she turned to him.
“…More, so soon?” he asked, and winced at the unsteady smallness of his voice.
“It’s not for Al. This is for you.” Noa stepped to the opposite side of the bed, and held out the flask. “It will steady your nerves.”
She was right, of course. Edward eyed the flask for only a moment before he accepted it from her. He downed its contents in a few short gulps, too tired to feel guilty about not feeling guilty anymore.
The beef blood wasn’t warm, but its dull tingle as it went down was the closest a dhampir could come to feeling warm on the inside. Ed closed his eyes and let it saturate his being for a few moments. He wondered if this was anything like the way a fix felt for a junkie or an alcoholic—but blood was no mere vice for a dhampir. It was the price for survival and sanity, a nourishment demanded by the parasitic homunculus blood that kept his body just alive enough to serve its hunger.
Perhaps there was a poetic justice in his fate. As an ignorant boy, he had broken the most sacred law of alchemy, and now he suffered the most horrifying consequence of other alchemists’ sins: the evil unleashed upon this world by human transmutation had become a part of him. It had redesigned his entire being, given him an animal’s strengths and instincts with which to hunt prey… and if he did not feed it the essence of life for which it lusted, it would consume him instead, unleashing a predatory rage to ensure that its appetite was satisfied.
Ed had already skirted that madness once, and barely escaped. The possibility that it might ever claim Alphonse…
He refused to let his mind go there. That thought would drive him mad just as surely.
Noa had retreated into the adjoining bathroom. She returned with a bowl of steaming water and a washcloth. As she set them beside the change of clothes, she gave him a small, demure shrug. “You should clean up. Al will get upset if he sees blood on you.”
That was true—and it was motivation enough. Crossing the room to the bureau, Ed set down the empty flask, hard enough to chip the glass against the wood. He unbuttoned his bloodstained shirt, let it fall from his shoulders, and reluctantly grasped the cloth to wash away the last traces of Al’s humanity that had soaked through onto his skin.
“…Here.”
Noa was at his side then, gently taking the cloth out of his hand, wiping off a red smudge he hadn’t known was on his cheek. She worked her way down his neck and chest where he had cradled Al against him, lingered meticulously on a trickle of dried blood that had collected along the edge of his automail port.
Someday, in a moment like this, when the blood was not his brother’s but that of a slain homunculus-vampire… he would let himself enjoy it.
“You didn’t stop me,” he observed quietly. There was no accusation in his tone, and barely even a trace of curiosity.
The movement of the cloth against his chest halted. Noa’s gaze fell.
“I couldn’t. Not knowing—not feeling what you’ve felt.” She looked up at him, her eyes uncertain and a little afraid. “Was I wrong?”
“…I don’t know.”
There was a long moment’s silence between them. At last Noa turned away abruptly, twisting the cloth in her hands.
“Earlier tonight, Ed. Before… before the Gate.” Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard. “I’ll forget that it happened.”
When Ed realized what she was talking about, the brusque statement pierced his heart. He gripped her shoulder with steel fingers and turned her to face him, searching her face in confusion. “Why would you say that?”
She stared up at him, wide-eyed; equally perplexed, it seemed, that he had to ask.
“Because—you have Al now. He’s all that matters.”
It was an answer that would have taken his breath away, had he still been breathing. Noa expected to step aside. She was prepared to take not a moment of his time or a fraction of his love away from Al, the only other person he had known how to love for so long.
Such selfless love for him—for himself and Al both—only made his reply all the stronger, all the easier to give.
“You should know better than that.” He drew her into an embrace, leaning his head against hers. “Al and I used to believe that all we had in our world was each other, but we were wrong. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m not letting go of anything anymore—including you.” A melancholy smile crossed his lips. “After all… Hunters work in packs, don’t they?”
They were just the right words to say. Ed felt Noa’s uncertainty melt away in his arms, and she clung to him, breathing out a soft half-laugh of gladness and love.
“I’m still your foundling,” he continued gently against her ear. He glanced at Al’s unconscious form, and his smile became more pained. “Even if I do have a foundling of my own now, I still need your help… to do this right.”
Noa drew back from him, returning a sad smile of her own, as her hands entwined with his. Her eyes were misty, but no tears had fallen.
“I’ll do everything I can,” she promised. Her eyes darkened a little as she studied his face. “What matters most is that you just let Al know… it’s alright to be what you’ve both become. For him to be able to accept it, he needs to see that you have, too.”
Ed wasn’t quite sure if there was a question buried within the statement, but he answered it anyway.
“I’m not sorry for what happened to me. Not anymore.” He gazed somberly at his brother. “Becoming a dhampir may be a heavy price to pay for survival… but it’s worth it. I believe that now.”
He felt Noa squeeze his left hand, and they stood in silence for a few moments, looking down at Alphonse on the bed.
“He’s so young,” Noa murmured at length. “I thought he was only a year younger than you.”
Ed glanced at her keenly. “How old do you think he is now?”
She contemplated Al’s face for a long moment. “Even with that sickness, whatever it was, making him look smaller than he should… I’d say no more than eleven or twelve.”
“Twelve is how old he would be—if you didn’t count the five years of our journey together, while his soul was in the armor.”
“Then you think his body didn’t age while it was lost inside the Gate?”
“It’s the only explanation that makes sense.” Ed frowned. “He was ten years old when it was taken. Those two years it’s aged since then can only be… the last two years, while we were separated. And that means…”
“His body was returned to him when you crossed the Gate.” Noa’s hand tightened in Ed’s again. “You kept your promise. You paid the price to get it back.”
“Yes, but… the sickness. Tringham said it was killing him, even before he…” Ed swallowed hard and shook his head. “What caused it? Why would Al get his body back, only to begin dying slowly? Was the price I paid not enough to give him back a full lifetime?”
“Don’t try to question it yet, Ed. Al may be able to explain it later. All that matters now is that he’s here with you.”
The mystery frustrated Ed, but he realized it was true that no answers were within reach at the moment. With a sigh he gazed down at Al’s face, and was briefly silent—until another disconcerting thought reared its head.
“Wait a sec. If dhampirs don’t age… he won’t be like this forever, will he?”
Noa shook her head. “No. When children are turned, their bodies still grow. It just happens much more slowly. In Al’s case, it will probably take thirty or forty years for him to physically mature—and then his aging will stop. He’ll look the same age as you and I then. But in the meantime… his mind should develop at a normal rate. It’s only his body that will be underaged, for a long time to come.”
Ed winced. “Somehow I don’t think Al is gonna be happy about that. His growing up was already delayed for five years… On the other hand, even as a dhampir, maybe he can still have back a small part of the childhood I took from him.” He forced an aching smile. “At least it’ll be a few decades before he’s taller than me again.”
The strained effort at humor earned a rueful twitch of Noa’s lips. She reached up to squeeze his shoulder gently.
“It’s almost sunrise outside. You should rest now. You’ll want to be at your best when Al wakes up.”
It was a suggestion Ed couldn’t argue with. He too had begun to feel the faint sensation of inner pressure that warned dhampirs to take shelter from the sun; and he did need rest, still emotionally and physically exhausted from the struggles and tragedies of the last few days. His father’s death had left him too full of somber thoughts to sleep much the previous afternoon. However, even with his new stamina—and even with the burden of Al’s condition weighing heavy on his heart—the fatigue he felt by this point would not be denied for much longer.
Now cleansed of Al’s blood, Ed retreated into the washroom with the bundle of clothes Noa had brought him. He changed his trousers, which were still stained with a few long-dried streaks of redness, but he didn’t bother putting on a fresh shirt. It was needless then, as he intended to do nothing other than sleep. Only a few hours would be enough, but he would probably let himself lie dormant until the next sunset anyway, unless Al began to stir before then.
When he returned, Noa was still beside the bed, thoughtfully studying Al’s face. Ed found he was glad she hadn’t left yet. There was a need in his heart that he couldn’t quite define; all he knew was that he wanted her near him. In better times to come, he realized the closeness he desired would be of a more intimate kind, but for now he craved only the part of Noa’s love that provided spiritual sympathy and comfort.
Moving over to her, he took her in his arms and kissed her softly. She responded with no further trace of doubt or uncertainty, and they held each other for a long moment.
“I should go now,” she said at last, and began to take a step back toward the door; but his flesh hand caught hers.
“…No. Please.” Swallowing hard, Ed glanced meaningfully toward the large bed on which Alphonse lay. “I’d like… for you to stay.”
Noa caught her breath faintly, her eyes widening. She hesitated for a brief moment. Then, in silent acceptance of his wish, she moved toward the nearer side of the bed.
With a quiver of oddly nervous anticipation, not sure why this was so important to him, Ed followed her. He laid down next to Al, and watched as Noa rather gingerly settled opposite him. They faced each other then, with Al’s pale, still form sheltered between them… and from the most bestial depths of his dhampir impulses, Ed felt a strange kind of contentment he had never known before.
For the first time since his mother’s death, something inside of him whispered the feeling of home. It went even beyond having Al back. He was surrounded by a place and people he had sworn to protect, to make his own. In that moment, on that bed, he was lying safe in his nest with his brother—and with… his mate. Or at least, the woman he loved and intended to have as his mate, when the proper time came. It startled him to realize that his heart had already claimed Noa in that way.
All of these reactions were deeply primal and involuntary, but Ed couldn’t bring himself to mind. If it was his fate—their fate—to be no longer human, at least there was consolation in these innocent animal feelings. The tender, protective pack instincts of dhampirs could not have been more different from the bloodlust and savagery at the other extreme of their nature. If only humans could form such bonds, he wondered what the world would be like.
Breaking off her gaze almost shyly from Ed’s, Noa closed her eyes, and became as lifelessly still as Al. It was no longer alarming to Ed by now, after seeing her asleep like that in their cellar refuge during their time spent hunting for Envy. He permitted himself to study her for a few long moments, taking in the serene beauty of her face in repose. She looked as if she could have been nothing more than the humble young gypsy she once was… but Ed knew better. He had seen her strength, her skill, the intensity of her resolve.
She had pledged all of those things to him, even before he knew he loved her. At first it was because she believed he would bring this world its only hope against vampires; yet even after she shared his memories, saw how weak and flawed he could be, her faith in him only grew stronger. It was no longer about her devotion to a cause, but her own love for him.
And Al… Ed smiled sadly as his glance shifted to his brother’s face. Many times in their difficult childhood-that-wasn’t, he had caught himself feeling almost more like a father to Al than a brother, focused so single-mindedly on caring for him. Between the youth of Al’s restored body, and the new instincts Ed possessed, that sense was now even stronger. Indeed, his burden truly had become more like that of a parent than ever. He faced the responsibility of bringing Al up in a new existence: guiding him to master the needs and powers of his dhampiric condition, to understand its rights and wrongs, almost as if he really was a child again. The thought had terrified Ed before, and in many ways it still did… but at this moment, there was also something about it that felt bittersweetly touching.
Nor would this life be only about the three of them. With the introduction of alchemy causing ripples of upheaval to spread throughout the Hunters’ organization, Ed couldn’t guess what the future might hold—but he knew they would share it with Roy and Jean and the others here in London. Somehow, they would find their way together through whatever was to come.
At least beyond himself and Al as brothers, Ed was unused to thinking of himself as a part of a greater whole—and perhaps that was the point. Perhaps enduring all that had happened was the only way he could ever learn that lesson. Caught up for so long in his own narrow goals, he had never deliberately aspired to change an entire world, until now… but even he couldn’t do that alone.
Now he knew that he didn’t have to.
Closing his eyes, Edward let himself slip quietly into a sleep that was without dreams—but not without hope.
© 2015 Jordanna Morgan
CHAPTERS: I. - II. - III. - IV. - V. - Epilogue