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prose_alchemist2015-03-22 12:59 am
jordannamorgan) wrote in prose_alchemist2015-03-22 12:59 am
Fullmetal Alchemist: Blood Brothers (5/5)
Title: Blood Brothers (5/5)
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 V: MEMORIES
All things considered, Ed was almost too impressed by Al’s adjustment in his first few days as a dhampir.
By the second night after his turning, Alphonse showed no sign of the terrible injuries he had arrived with. There was no longer any hesitation or weakness when he moved—and he was becoming restless. He wanted to go beyond the gates of the Hunters’ stronghold, to see something of the city, even if it was only on a short moonlight walk. Still nervous at the thought of Al being exposed to the wider world, Ed resisted his brother’s plea.
Yet the other thing Al begged him for frightened Ed even more.
“No thanks,” Al said primly, sitting on the edge of the bed in his room, when Ed came to deliver the bottle of blood that was to be his morning meal. “I’m not going to have that right now.”
Vexed by the refusal, Ed frowned. “Al, I know it’s not fun, but you shouldn’t skip any meals right now. You may feel just fine, but your body still isn’t really finished adapting yet. It’s important to stay nourished. I’m telling you from experience—they didn’t feed me for a few days while their Hughes had me locked up. That’s part of why my change was harder, and took longer than it should have.”
“Oh, I’ll have blood now if you want me to.” Al folded his hands, gazing up intently at Ed. “Just not that blood.”
It was easy enough to understand what Al meant by that. Ever since he learned about dhampirs’ ability to share memories, he had been giving Ed hints and nudges about it, and had outright asked him more than once. He completely ignored Ed’s assertion that he was not yet ready for so intense an experience.
Ed couldn’t bring himself to confess that he was the unprepared one. He was nothing less than terrified at the thought of exposing his soul to his brother. Al probably knew that anyway… but when he wanted to be, the younger Elric was just as good as the elder at not taking no for an answer.
“We’ve been over all that,” Ed sighed. “The time isn’t right yet.”
“You said you took Noa’s memories even sooner after you were turned.”
“Yeah, and I could barely handle them. A dhampir can’t absorb memories very well before their change is really complete.”
“I’ve come far enough now, Brother. I know I have. And it’s not just about being healthy as a dhampir—it’s got to count for something that I know you so well already. Besides, even if you didn’t know it, you carried a piece of my soul inside you for five years.” Al’s eyes softened, and he gave a small, melancholy shrug. “I just want my turn to have part of you in my soul, too.”
Something about the earnest, gentle assurance of Al’s voice and gaze affected Edward deeply. Feeling a tightness in his chest, he set aside the blood bottle on top of the bureau, and edged closer to the bed.
A part of him did want the sharing Alphonse longed for. He wanted Al to feel, once and for all, how desperately loved and precious he was. He wanted Al to know the depth of his wretched remorse, for having led him astray in arrogance and ambition—leading him down a path that had stolen the boy’s humanity, not once, but twice. He wanted his emotions to pour out his apology in ways no words could ever achieve.
But it also meant allowing Al to feel his memories of unspeakably agonizing pain. The pain of lost limbs, automail surgery, battle wounds… and the even worse torture of fears and doubts and helpless rage, the phantoms that had shadowed him all along their journey. Fear that Al could not truly forgive him; doubt that he was truly strong enough, skilled enough, good enough to fulfill his promise and make Al whole. Rage that he felt even now, toward destiny or the Gate or the entire universe—whichever universe it might be—that had always condemned Al to suffer for Ed’s own choices and mistakes.
No matter how Ed felt about it, he knew he couldn’t put this off forever. There would be no stopping Al from his decision to become a Hunter himself, and sooner or later, that work would require them to exchange critical knowledge of some vampiric target. Besides, if he refused to carry out this responsibility to his foundling, Al would only be forced to learn the practice of blood-sharing from Noa or another dhampir. Ed could not ask them to shoulder his burden.
“…What if you don’t like what you see?”
He wasn’t aware that the words were on his lips until he spoke them… but he truly wanted the answer. Even if Al couldn’t possibly predict his own reaction in advance, Ed wanted to know what he thought he would feel.
Al smiled ruefully. “Brother, you gave up your arm to save my life—and then you tried to sacrifice all of yourself to save me again. How can you think anything else you’ve ever done would matter more than that?” The smile faded abruptly. “The only thing I’m going to hate is really knowing how much you’ve hurt… but I want that too.”
A few seconds of silence passed; and then, very slowly, Ed sank down onto his knees at the bedside.
The remainder of the breath Al had taken to speak shuddered out of him. He watched with wide eyes as Ed’s left hand reached up to his shirt collar, pulling loose the top three buttons. With his throat exposed, a steel finger gently tapped on the target site at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
Swallowing hard, Al leaned forward, to plant his hands firmly on Ed’s shoulders. He dipped his head forward a little, lowered his lips beneath his brother’s left ear—and then he paused.
“How do I… do this?”
Ed resisted a faint smirk. Undoubtedly Al’s emotions were intense at that moment, but they were clearly not the kind that would spur his fangs to emerge, such as anger or fear… At least, not for the moment.
“Don’t expect me to make it any easier for you. This is your show now. You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself.”
Al released a small huff of irritation against Ed’s shoulder. Then he pulled close again, and pressed his nose to his brother’s neck, tentatively nuzzling and sniffing. After a moment, he parted his lips and lightly grazed Ed’s skin with the edges of his still-blunt teeth. When he got used to his fangs, he would find it easier to manifest them; but for now, he had no idea how to make them work, and could only search blindly for some cue that would trigger them.
Somehow, at last, he succeeded. Ed heard him gasp softly, and felt the first gentle dent of fang-points pressing on his skin, hesitating to push through to the red richness underneath.
When Al uttered a soft whimper, Ed knew the boy had suddenly realized the very human instinct of horror at what he intended to do.
“This is what you wanted, Al,” Ed murmured quietly, taking care not to move his head away from those delicate pin-points braced against his flesh. “Now do it.”
Al flinched and whined softly, hugging Ed closer. One deep shudder passed through his thin body… and then he bit down, his jaws abruptly tightening with just enough pressure to force his fangs into Ed’s flesh. They withdrew immediately as Al let out a startled breath, releasing the pierced skin; but their sharp, cutting points had already done the job required of them. From the two small wounds they created, red droplets welled up, to trickle thinly across Al’s trembling lips.
The taste of it, so different from the animal blood that had sustained him until now, would arouse new instincts that were anything but human. As a predatory need surged up to repress all loathing and fear, his mouth settled over the bite. He began to drink, once more taking into himself the blood of his brother—the same blood that had already twice preserved his life.
Ed closed his eyes, and did not resist as the flood of memories spilled from his soul.
Their childhood in Resembool. His first memories were not of their parents, but of Al. Toddlers nestled together in the same crib; growing boys, playing and learning together… and then grieving together, as their mother’s death tore their peaceful life apart.
Ed’s intent resolve, even then, that he must now be the one to protect and care for his little brother.
His dark obsession with resurrecting their mother—born of a deep-down fear that he would fail both her and Alphonse, because he wasn’t as strong or wise as she. Fear that he couldn’t look after Al as well as she could. Fear that was only fueled by their month on Yock Island, with his first taste of the terror and futility of trying to defend Al from what they thought was mortal danger.
The forbidden act of human transmutation. The agony of hearing Al’s cries as a living darkness ripped him away from the world. The pain and horror of the bleeding void where Ed’s leg was supposed to be… and even more so, the void of losing the one person he had never, ever been without. The desperation, the near-madness that drove him to make use of a new knowledge no human should possess, giving up even more of his own body to ensure that the true most vital part of him was not lost. The impossible joy and grief of seeing Al awaken within the armor—and overshadowing it all, the fear that Al would never, could never forgive him for causing the loss of absolutely everything.
Long months of recovery, of torturous automail surgery. Nights full of nightmares much worse than the physical pain; not visions of the brutal trauma he had borne himself, but of the very different suffering he had thrust upon Al, and of being hated and left alone by him because of it. The constant insecurity of wondering if the care Al showed for him, in his months of crippled helplessness, was just a burden of familial duty that Al might silently resent. His promise that he would fix what he had done: not only for the sake of making everything right again, but to give his brother a reason not to abandon him in disgust, as Al had every right and reason to do.
Their long journey, with its own many trials and pains, eternally driven by that promise he had made. Ghosts of doubt that lingered until a final breakthrough, one splendid ridiculous night in the midst of all-out battle, when Ed forced himself at last to voice the one question he had feared all along—a question Al answered, once and for all, with his own protective love. Joy in that assurance, tempered with the conviction that even still, no apology for Ed’s mistakes would ever be enough.
Other bright spots, apart from Al, in the often-dark path they followed. Gratitude and affection for the faithfulness of Winry and Pinako. A deep warmth for Maes Hughes and his family, however suppressed it might have been beneath a feigned annoyance at the man’s fumbling paternal impulses. Subtle, unspoken appreciation for those who had been kind to the brothers, like Lieutenants Hawkeye and Havoc… and for General Mustang, a wistful jumble of emotions. Contempt and irritation and grudging respect, and a hidden fondness that Ed’s pride could never admit to until it was far too late.
The brothers’ final, fateful confrontation with Dante and her homunculi. Facing the Gate again, learning of this world beyond it, and the terrible secret of its connection to their own. An instant of unimaginable shock and pain, when Envy took Ed’s life the first time… and the devastation of waking to restored limbs that had cost Al’s life in turn.
The choice that was really never a choice at all: to bring Al back once more, or die trying.
Automail again, and this alien world, without even any certainty that the Gate had returned Al on the other side. Two lonely years of searching for knowledge in the absence of alchemy, yearning for nothing but to know his brother was alive, even if they could never be reunited.
Envy’s reappearance, in the form of an impossible monster from legend. Noa, strong yet gentle, taking it upon herself to spare Ed from a second death at Envy’s hands—but at a price as bitter and taboo as human transmutation itself. The dark gift of her blood, the shock and bewilderment of transformation into a dhampir.
The Hunters, in all of their uncanny familiarity. The Maes Hughes of this world, and Ed’s guilt in unwittingly driving him to madness. Captivity, escape, the hunt for Envy. The return of Hohenheim, with all the answers he held. The last battle against Envy, and the hard-won victory that set the course for Ed and his new comrades, proving that alchemy was their weapon against the vampire-homunculi.
Somber reflections in a cemetery, as Hohenheim and the fallen Hunters were laid to rest. Ed’s quiet resolution that he would accept his new life, use it to share the Hunters’ fight against the evils his fellow alchemists had created, even though the question of Al’s fate would always leave a hollow place in his heart…
And the sudden, unexpected answer to that question, when the Gate delivered Alphonse into this world—daring Edward, for one last time, to trade his blood and Al’s humanity for their chance to be together.
Like the fog clearing from a mirror, the visions of the past gently evaporated. Al’s mouth had pulled away from the punctures on Ed’s neck. The boy clung and shivered, overwhelmed for a moment by the inhuman and unthinkably intimate experience of sensing all that was in his brother’s mind.
Wrapping his arms around Al’s waist, Ed whispered yet again those two familiar words: “I’m sorry.”
For a few seconds, Alphonse was still. Then he drew back just far enough to look up into Ed’s face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and there was a small trickle of blood at the corner of his lips; but those lips were twisted into a crooked, painful smile of fond exasperation.
“Ed, you idiot,” he said, his voice cracking only slightly.
Stung by the incongruity of the smile and the reproach, Ed gaped. “What?”
“For ever doubting how much I love you. For thinking I could blame you for something that was my fault too—even when I told you so many times that I was just as guilty.” Brimming eyes mock-glared at Ed. “If you weren’t the most important thing to me in any world, do you think I would have offered the Gate all I could give for you twice now?”
Shamefaced, Ed looked away. “I know that now… but for so long, it was so hard to convince myself that you wouldn’t hate me, no matter how much you showed me otherwise.” With a rueful sigh, he raised his left hand, brushing his thumb across the corner of Al’s mouth to wipe away the blood. “Maybe it’s because I hated myself so much for what I’d done, I couldn’t see how you could feel any differently.”
Al studied Ed’s face with grim thoughtfulness. Then he reached up to his own shirt collar, and tugged the fabric loose from his neck, just as Ed had done.
“It’s your turn now.”
Even though some part of Ed knew the offer should not be unexpected, it still shocked him to his core. He flinched back, staring at the pale skin of Al’s exposed throat, and then at Al’s intent, earnest eyes. “Al—”
“I mean it. You need this, Brother. If telling you and showing you how much I love you isn’t enough to get through all this hurt you’ve been carrying for so long… then at least now you can feel it, once and for all.”
A little while ago, the very thought of biting Al would have been unbearable; yet being bitten by him had taken away some of the revulsion. It forced brotherly protectiveness to give way to the realization that Al was now truly and fully a dhampir, with a new physiology designed to use these abilities. In any case, Ed knew that Al would not be denied in the matter. If anything, he had seized even more firmly upon the idea that this was the form Equivalent Exchange was to take for them now.
Besides… it was only right that after subjecting Al to his pain, Ed should feel the echoes of his brother’s own unique suffering as well.
Deeply reluctant, yet somehow tantalized, Ed slowly rose from his knees and settled on the edge of the bed. He sat sideways to face Al, lightly gripping the boy’s shoulders. Al gazed back at him with a look of determined expectation, and tilted his head just slightly to one side, the better to expose his waiting throat.
Trying not to think, Ed bowed his head close to Al’s neck. With his somewhat greater experience, it was less difficult for him to summon the impulses that would bring forth his fangs. Just a moment of focusing on his anger at the fact that Al was forced to share his fate as a dhampir—and there they were, two sharp points against the tip of Ed’s tongue. He was glad Al couldn’t see them as he opened his mouth, breathing in Al’s scent, bracing himself to do something that should have been unimaginable.
Only twice so far had Ed bitten Noa, driven both times by an injury-induced starvation that compelled him to tear viciously into her flesh. This time, with Al, he was at least blessedly in control of himself. He inflicted little more than a gentle nip: a slight scrape of his fang-tips against soft young skin, just enough to draw a small taste of blood.
This was all that was needed to spark the connection between their minds. For one moment as the vision came, Ed had to force himself not to break away, not to recoil in fear of taking from the soul he had always fought so desperately to protect…
But that soul welcomed him with a surge of joy and love that overwhelmed him, that drew him into its embrace, even before the first glimpse of true memory took shape.
Their shared childhood once more. Al’s early memories, of playing and fighting and mourning together, were so much a mirror of Ed’s own—except for one thing. Instead of the heavy weight of responsibility, the fear of inadequacy, Al felt only innocent trust and admiration for the big brother who protected and guided him. He had absolute faith in Ed, even after their mother died… and even when his conscience whispered doubts of the dark, forbidden path Ed laid out for them.
The night of the transmutation. Anxious fears Ed had felt as well, but refused to admit to—and on top of that, Al’s fear of failing Ed, of making some tiny mistake in the equations that would leave him guilty of disaster. His last sensations: the prick of the knife on his finger, the nervous thumping of his heart, the silken slickness of the array’s chalk dust on his hands. The terror as it all went monstrously wrong, and the barely-remembered shadow of a pain that was briefer than Ed’s, but far more shocking.
It was the pain of Al’s entire body being torn away from his soul.
The Gate. Perhaps spurred by his far more recent and vivid encounter with it, Al remembered it now; but this first recollection was still vague, a hazy jumble of dark and light and utter absence. All he really knew of those moments between worlds was a sense of fading, the terrifying slide of his disembodied soul toward oblivion—until he was captured by a sudden gravity that pulled him back. For an instant, he thought he heard Ed’s voice, and then there was nothing.
Waking in the armor. Numbness, confusion, shock; and then a horror which, at least for a time, pushed aside all thoughts and feelings about his own condition. The sight of Ed huddled before him, half his limbs gone, bleeding out a sea of red.
Carrying Ed’s maimed and unconscious body to the Rockbell home, as if his older brother was no more burden than a feather. Feeling nothing on the outside—neither Ed’s weight, nor the warmth of his spreading blood, nor the wetness and cold of the rain that pounded down ringingly upon the armor—yet on the inside, feeling an anguished fear worse than anything the Gate could have wrought upon him personally. The fear that Brother would die.
After, when Alphonse knew that Ed’s condition was stable, and Ed’s blood had been cleaned from the steel shell that enclosed him. The first of so many long nights devoid of sleep. Sitting beside his brother’s bed in the half-light, staring down at the leather gauntlets that had become his hands; wondering if he could still be human, or even a living thing.
Hearing Ed cry out in the night from his wounds and his nightmares. Feeling the hurt of his brother’s pain, somewhere in the emptiness where his heart should have been. The one thing that assured him he was still human after all—at least until morning, when Ed awakened, to cling and weep and breathe out tortured apologies. Because Ed’s love made him feel more human than anything else ever could.
Days and months of slowly recovering together. Uselessly watching Ed endure the further agonies of automail surgery, and then at last begin to grow stronger—even as Al himself adjusted to his alien new form. Learning how to move, how to control the strength of his steel frame, how to handle objects without a sense of touch.
Learning not to feel guilty in the moments, every now and then, when he caught himself almost enjoying some of the things he could do.
Their departure from Resembool. Fear of the vast unknown beyond their home; fear of what awaited Brother in his ambition to become a State Alchemist. Determination to take up that challenge equally with Ed, and dismayed frustration when he was not permitted to. Fierce resolve that even without a military commission, he would remain at Ed’s side, do his best to share the burden Ed had taken upon himself… and through the years that followed, more fears and guilts of his own, as their journey took a far greater toll on Ed’s fragile body than his own impervious shell. The helpless feeling that with his great strength and sturdiness, he could have and should have done more to keep Ed from getting hurt. Days when he secretly longed for nothing more than to end their quest: to submit to the fate they had brought upon themselves, and build a new life just as they were, so that Brother would cease to suffer in a fight for the impossible.
The good and the bad of their experiences. Friends, and enemies, and total strangers in need of help. Brushes with death, and occasional fights with each other; yet always, they were together, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.
Liore. Marta’s brutal murder, and Al’s guilty grief at being unable to protect her. Kimbley, Scar, the terrifying burden of the Philosopher’s Stone forged within him. Hohenheim, and Dante, and the final battle.
The horror of seeing Ed die at Envy’s hands.
The refusal to accept such an end after all their struggles, choosing instead to save Brother with the Stone—or else to die with him. Sacrifice… and then waking as a ten-year-old child again, bereft and bewildered, in a world that had aged five years since his last memory.
Brother’s absence, an emptiness deeper than any Alphonse had ever felt in the hollow armor. The yearning for nothing more than to have Ed back, no matter the cost. His fight to recover his memories, to train and grow stronger again for the search, only to find that he had lost more than he first realized. The creeping onset of frail weakness, as his body preyed on his fractured soul. His dreams of Ed, his one delicate link to the missing piece of himself that Ed carried, causing him to cherish the very condition that was killing him—until even the dreams ceased, their last thread of connection unknowingly severed by Ed’s undeath.
The final option to survive, by sealing himself forever within his armor… and yet again, his choice that even death with Brother was preferable to life without him. A final entreaty granted by the Gate, but at a savage price, demanding flesh as payment for the reunion that would heal his soul.
Unspeakable pain—and then joy at the sight of Ed’s face leaning over him. The warmth of his own gushing blood, mingled with the warmth of his missing soul-piece as it was absorbed back into his being. The cold, sharp bitterness of Ed’s blood upon his lips. A gentle rest, followed by awakening to yet another new life: tainted now by an inhuman darkness, yet caring only that he was with Brother once again.
Edward pulled away from Al’s throat with a shiver, pressing his automail hand over eyes that streamed with tears.
For a moment, even now that he was fully adapted as a dhampir, the memories seemed more than he could process. The images and sensations were myriad and staggering—but Al’s emotions were what gripped him, because they were everything his little brother had promised.
The love Al had for him was more than he could begin to comprehend. All his apologies, all his guilt, all his struggles to make amends… yet Al loved him so much, he counted nothing to be apologized for. At least, not to himself. In Al’s eyes, the true repayment of their shared misdeed was owed to the world, the natural balance of existence whose laws they had violated. Rather than expect recompense for the loss of his body, he had instead felt only grief that Ed pushed so hard in the effort, continuing to endure hurt while Al’s own metal husk could feel no pain at all. Even when his body was restored, he would have given it up again in a heartbeat to have Ed back.
In the end, he had certainly tried his best at that. Like Ed himself, he survived only because this new world offered a way to cheat death, forged by the very sins of other alchemists. It was the most perverse twist of fortune… or perhaps providence.
Al’s hand came to rest gently on the top of Ed’s bowed head.
“Do you understand now, Brother?” the boy asked, his voice a quivering whisper.
Too choked with emotion to speak, Ed could only nod faintly and throw his arms around Al’s shoulders, hugging him tightly.
“Good.” Al returned the hug, nuzzling his cheek against Ed’s neck, where the marks of his own bite had already vanished. “We’ll be okay now, Ed. Both of us. We’re together—and we’re not alone.”
“…I know.” Ed sniffed and pulled back a little, to smile tearfully at Al. “And I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think I could ever feel that way about having you in this world, like this… but I see now. And I promise, I—”
He found himself silenced by Al’s finger against his lips. “No more promises, Brother. We don’t need them anymore—not to each other. The only promise we should make now is to do our best for this world, and try to save it from the monsters our world created. Because that’s what we’re here for… It’s what it was all for. I’m sure of that.”
Ed gave a feeble shrug. “I think I want to believe that. Maybe I can learn to… It’ll just take me a little time.” His expression grew firmer, and he clasped Al’s hand in his own. “But I will make that promise with you. This is our home now—and we’re going to protect it.”
When Al beamed at him in approving joy, he knew that smile was the only sunlight he would ever need again.
The moment was ended by a knock on the door. Ed called for the visitor to come in, and when Noa entered, he was remarkably unashamed to be caught still wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Al didn’t even bother to rub the tears from his own cheeks, but smiled up at the girl with a bright sense of relieved happiness.
Whether or not Noa glimpsed the last fading trace of the bite on Al’s neck, she seemed to sense immediately what had passed between the two brothers. Understanding filled her eyes, and a brief, warm smile crossed her lips as well.
“Councilor Bradley has called a meeting,” she informed them, quickly sobering. “We’ve received word from the Council.”
That news was enough to stir butterflies—or at least the dhampiric equivalent—in Ed’s undead stomach. He quickly stood up with a nod, and stepped forward to follow Noa out of the room, joined by Alphonse.
As they made their way down the hall, Al glanced between Noa ahead of them, and Edward beside him.
“I take it back,” the boy mused with a little smile, in a murmur just loud enough for Ed’s enhanced hearing to detect. “There is one more promise I want to see you make—but not to me.”
Ed nearly faltered in his stride. He shot a look of surprise and chagrin at his little brother, and found himself stifling a snort of laughter when Al grinned back at him cheekily.
It really shouldn’t have been the time and place for the good feelings that were creeping into his heart. At least, not until they knew whether the news from Paris was good or bad… but still, Ed couldn’t help it. He felt a buoyant lightness inside him, where the accumulated weight of seven years’ pain and fear had been lifted from his soul.
He knew then that sharing Al’s mind had changed him forever, and he wasn’t sorry for it.
The slate of their past was clean. In time, the grim burdens of life as dhampirs and Hunters might very well begin to darken it again; but for now, Ed was almost strangely at peace. Something felt complete in the brothers’ lives that had not been for years, if ever. Whatever was ahead, they had new strength to face it together, along with their new friends—perhaps now their family.
Edward Elric had long known the feeling of purpose. Now, for the first time he could remember, he knew the feeling of belonging.
They entered the meeting room to find that with the exception of Sig, who did not live on the premises, the other Hunters had already gathered there. Councilor Bradley was sitting at the head of the table, gazing intently at his steepled fingertips; but when he saw Ed and Al arrive to take their seats, a faint, weary smile curled beneath his mustache.
“Only a few minutes ago, I received a message from Marta,” he announced. “The conflict within the Council has been resolved—at least for the time being. In the end, all but two of my fellow Councilors were persuaded to give the potential of alchemy a chance. The dissenting pair have quit the Council and left Paris, still vowing to take any measures necessary to oppose its use… but at least now we have time to make our own case to those who remain. Knowing them as I do, I believe we can convince them that alchemy’s power to save lives is more than worth its risks.”
Around the table, bated breaths were exhaled in sighs of cautious relief. Riza slipped her hand into Roy’s, giving him a tiny smile. He squeezed her fingers in return, but his expression was troubled.
“That doesn’t mean this is even close to being over. When Hunter cells all over the world learn about alchemy, they’re going to go through the exact same thing. Other Hunters will start defecting to those two dissidents, and I’m sure it won’t be long before they’ve established their own organization—one that targets alchemists just as much as vampires.”
Bradley nodded gravely. “That’s true—but having the majority of the Council on our side is crucial to us. Most Hunters will follow their lead, and at least for a while, they’ll provide us the benefit of the doubt. What we have to do is use that time to prove the value of this new weapon, and reassure them that it can be kept out of the wrong hands.”
“Can we do that?” Vato asked grimly. “As easily as our kind can gain knowledge from each other, any rogue dhampir could steal the secrets of alchemy from one of us with a single bite.”
Ed scowled at that, clenching his fists on the tabletop.
“It will happen,” he stated flatly. “Sooner or later, alchemy will spread farther than we intended it to, and we’ll have to face a few lunatics who want to use it for wrong… but I never said this wasn’t going to be dangerous. Alchemy is the one thing that can finally protect this world from vampires—but at the same time, we’ve also got to protect alchemy and this world from each other.”
“That’s not really so different from what we had to do every day in our world,” Al remarked gently.
Noa spoke up. “The most important thing is to start putting alchemy in the right hands—other Hunters we can trust to use it for good. We’ll have to be careful in screening those who want to use it… but we do have an advantage there. We can look into the minds of other dhampirs before we give them the knowledge, to be sure they’re stable enough, and they have only the right intentions.”
“And that process must begin with the Council itself,” Bradley agreed, turning to the Elric brothers. “As you are the root source of alchemy in this world, you can best present our argument in its favor. Will you go with me to Paris? There should be no danger for you there now—but regardless, I promise that you will be completely protected.” Receiving Ed’s nod, he glanced around the table at the other Hunters. “All of you should come to give your testimony as well. When the Council sees what you here have become together, and what you achieved together in defeating Envy, they’ll understand the value of what we offer.”
The Hunters gave nods and murmurs of assent. After a moment’s hesitation, Jean leaned forward to address Bradley, with a request that utterly astonished Edward.
“Chief, if it’s alright with you—I mean, and if you think those two Councilors who split off might try to make trouble any time soon—well, I’d like to take on the duty of being Ed and Al’s personal bodyguard.” He glanced at Noa and then Ed, meeting their shocked expressions with a faint, rueful smile. “I’ve got plenty of reason to want to see Fullmetal safe… and I don’t just mean because of alchemy.”
Grateful tears welled in Noa’s eyes. Her left hand clasped over her mouth, while her right hand seized Ed’s, out of sight underneath the edge of the table.
Bradley looked between the Elrics, Noa, and Jean, arching his eyebrow with a sort of fatherly amusement. “I’ll leave that decision to you and your intended charges—and to the very capable protector Edward already has. If there are no objections from them, I certainly have none.” He rose, pausing to glance over each of the London Hunters. “We’ll travel tonight. And now, my friends, you should rest. A new day has quite literally dawned, for all of us.”
The Councilor left the room first. Roy and Riza followed, with his arm around her shoulders. Vato and Heymans also departed together, in quiet conversation. Ed, Al, and Noa lingered—looking to Jean as he approached them, with an uncharacteristic diffidence.
“Jean,” Noa breathed softly, leaning into his arms to deliver a hug of heartfelt appreciation and affection.
“…Yeah.” Incapable though he was of blushing, the awkward expression on his face made up for it. He squeezed Noa’s shoulders once, and then stepped back demurely, glancing at Ed. “I know I don’t have to tell you to take care of her… and like I said, I plan on making sure you’ll be around to for a long, long time.”
Ed smiled slowly. He extended his gloved automail hand, and Jean wavered for only a second before grasping it.
© 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.
All things considered, Ed was almost too impressed by Al’s adjustment in his first few days as a dhampir.
By the second night after his turning, Alphonse showed no sign of the terrible injuries he had arrived with. There was no longer any hesitation or weakness when he moved—and he was becoming restless. He wanted to go beyond the gates of the Hunters’ stronghold, to see something of the city, even if it was only on a short moonlight walk. Still nervous at the thought of Al being exposed to the wider world, Ed resisted his brother’s plea.
Yet the other thing Al begged him for frightened Ed even more.
“No thanks,” Al said primly, sitting on the edge of the bed in his room, when Ed came to deliver the bottle of blood that was to be his morning meal. “I’m not going to have that right now.”
Vexed by the refusal, Ed frowned. “Al, I know it’s not fun, but you shouldn’t skip any meals right now. You may feel just fine, but your body still isn’t really finished adapting yet. It’s important to stay nourished. I’m telling you from experience—they didn’t feed me for a few days while their Hughes had me locked up. That’s part of why my change was harder, and took longer than it should have.”
“Oh, I’ll have blood now if you want me to.” Al folded his hands, gazing up intently at Ed. “Just not that blood.”
It was easy enough to understand what Al meant by that. Ever since he learned about dhampirs’ ability to share memories, he had been giving Ed hints and nudges about it, and had outright asked him more than once. He completely ignored Ed’s assertion that he was not yet ready for so intense an experience.
Ed couldn’t bring himself to confess that he was the unprepared one. He was nothing less than terrified at the thought of exposing his soul to his brother. Al probably knew that anyway… but when he wanted to be, the younger Elric was just as good as the elder at not taking no for an answer.
“We’ve been over all that,” Ed sighed. “The time isn’t right yet.”
“You said you took Noa’s memories even sooner after you were turned.”
“Yeah, and I could barely handle them. A dhampir can’t absorb memories very well before their change is really complete.”
“I’ve come far enough now, Brother. I know I have. And it’s not just about being healthy as a dhampir—it’s got to count for something that I know you so well already. Besides, even if you didn’t know it, you carried a piece of my soul inside you for five years.” Al’s eyes softened, and he gave a small, melancholy shrug. “I just want my turn to have part of you in my soul, too.”
Something about the earnest, gentle assurance of Al’s voice and gaze affected Edward deeply. Feeling a tightness in his chest, he set aside the blood bottle on top of the bureau, and edged closer to the bed.
A part of him did want the sharing Alphonse longed for. He wanted Al to feel, once and for all, how desperately loved and precious he was. He wanted Al to know the depth of his wretched remorse, for having led him astray in arrogance and ambition—leading him down a path that had stolen the boy’s humanity, not once, but twice. He wanted his emotions to pour out his apology in ways no words could ever achieve.
But it also meant allowing Al to feel his memories of unspeakably agonizing pain. The pain of lost limbs, automail surgery, battle wounds… and the even worse torture of fears and doubts and helpless rage, the phantoms that had shadowed him all along their journey. Fear that Al could not truly forgive him; doubt that he was truly strong enough, skilled enough, good enough to fulfill his promise and make Al whole. Rage that he felt even now, toward destiny or the Gate or the entire universe—whichever universe it might be—that had always condemned Al to suffer for Ed’s own choices and mistakes.
No matter how Ed felt about it, he knew he couldn’t put this off forever. There would be no stopping Al from his decision to become a Hunter himself, and sooner or later, that work would require them to exchange critical knowledge of some vampiric target. Besides, if he refused to carry out this responsibility to his foundling, Al would only be forced to learn the practice of blood-sharing from Noa or another dhampir. Ed could not ask them to shoulder his burden.
“…What if you don’t like what you see?”
He wasn’t aware that the words were on his lips until he spoke them… but he truly wanted the answer. Even if Al couldn’t possibly predict his own reaction in advance, Ed wanted to know what he thought he would feel.
Al smiled ruefully. “Brother, you gave up your arm to save my life—and then you tried to sacrifice all of yourself to save me again. How can you think anything else you’ve ever done would matter more than that?” The smile faded abruptly. “The only thing I’m going to hate is really knowing how much you’ve hurt… but I want that too.”
A few seconds of silence passed; and then, very slowly, Ed sank down onto his knees at the bedside.
The remainder of the breath Al had taken to speak shuddered out of him. He watched with wide eyes as Ed’s left hand reached up to his shirt collar, pulling loose the top three buttons. With his throat exposed, a steel finger gently tapped on the target site at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
Swallowing hard, Al leaned forward, to plant his hands firmly on Ed’s shoulders. He dipped his head forward a little, lowered his lips beneath his brother’s left ear—and then he paused.
“How do I… do this?”
Ed resisted a faint smirk. Undoubtedly Al’s emotions were intense at that moment, but they were clearly not the kind that would spur his fangs to emerge, such as anger or fear… At least, not for the moment.
“Don’t expect me to make it any easier for you. This is your show now. You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself.”
Al released a small huff of irritation against Ed’s shoulder. Then he pulled close again, and pressed his nose to his brother’s neck, tentatively nuzzling and sniffing. After a moment, he parted his lips and lightly grazed Ed’s skin with the edges of his still-blunt teeth. When he got used to his fangs, he would find it easier to manifest them; but for now, he had no idea how to make them work, and could only search blindly for some cue that would trigger them.
Somehow, at last, he succeeded. Ed heard him gasp softly, and felt the first gentle dent of fang-points pressing on his skin, hesitating to push through to the red richness underneath.
When Al uttered a soft whimper, Ed knew the boy had suddenly realized the very human instinct of horror at what he intended to do.
“This is what you wanted, Al,” Ed murmured quietly, taking care not to move his head away from those delicate pin-points braced against his flesh. “Now do it.”
Al flinched and whined softly, hugging Ed closer. One deep shudder passed through his thin body… and then he bit down, his jaws abruptly tightening with just enough pressure to force his fangs into Ed’s flesh. They withdrew immediately as Al let out a startled breath, releasing the pierced skin; but their sharp, cutting points had already done the job required of them. From the two small wounds they created, red droplets welled up, to trickle thinly across Al’s trembling lips.
The taste of it, so different from the animal blood that had sustained him until now, would arouse new instincts that were anything but human. As a predatory need surged up to repress all loathing and fear, his mouth settled over the bite. He began to drink, once more taking into himself the blood of his brother—the same blood that had already twice preserved his life.
Ed closed his eyes, and did not resist as the flood of memories spilled from his soul.
Their childhood in Resembool. His first memories were not of their parents, but of Al. Toddlers nestled together in the same crib; growing boys, playing and learning together… and then grieving together, as their mother’s death tore their peaceful life apart.
Ed’s intent resolve, even then, that he must now be the one to protect and care for his little brother.
His dark obsession with resurrecting their mother—born of a deep-down fear that he would fail both her and Alphonse, because he wasn’t as strong or wise as she. Fear that he couldn’t look after Al as well as she could. Fear that was only fueled by their month on Yock Island, with his first taste of the terror and futility of trying to defend Al from what they thought was mortal danger.
The forbidden act of human transmutation. The agony of hearing Al’s cries as a living darkness ripped him away from the world. The pain and horror of the bleeding void where Ed’s leg was supposed to be… and even more so, the void of losing the one person he had never, ever been without. The desperation, the near-madness that drove him to make use of a new knowledge no human should possess, giving up even more of his own body to ensure that the true most vital part of him was not lost. The impossible joy and grief of seeing Al awaken within the armor—and overshadowing it all, the fear that Al would never, could never forgive him for causing the loss of absolutely everything.
Long months of recovery, of torturous automail surgery. Nights full of nightmares much worse than the physical pain; not visions of the brutal trauma he had borne himself, but of the very different suffering he had thrust upon Al, and of being hated and left alone by him because of it. The constant insecurity of wondering if the care Al showed for him, in his months of crippled helplessness, was just a burden of familial duty that Al might silently resent. His promise that he would fix what he had done: not only for the sake of making everything right again, but to give his brother a reason not to abandon him in disgust, as Al had every right and reason to do.
Their long journey, with its own many trials and pains, eternally driven by that promise he had made. Ghosts of doubt that lingered until a final breakthrough, one splendid ridiculous night in the midst of all-out battle, when Ed forced himself at last to voice the one question he had feared all along—a question Al answered, once and for all, with his own protective love. Joy in that assurance, tempered with the conviction that even still, no apology for Ed’s mistakes would ever be enough.
Other bright spots, apart from Al, in the often-dark path they followed. Gratitude and affection for the faithfulness of Winry and Pinako. A deep warmth for Maes Hughes and his family, however suppressed it might have been beneath a feigned annoyance at the man’s fumbling paternal impulses. Subtle, unspoken appreciation for those who had been kind to the brothers, like Lieutenants Hawkeye and Havoc… and for General Mustang, a wistful jumble of emotions. Contempt and irritation and grudging respect, and a hidden fondness that Ed’s pride could never admit to until it was far too late.
The brothers’ final, fateful confrontation with Dante and her homunculi. Facing the Gate again, learning of this world beyond it, and the terrible secret of its connection to their own. An instant of unimaginable shock and pain, when Envy took Ed’s life the first time… and the devastation of waking to restored limbs that had cost Al’s life in turn.
The choice that was really never a choice at all: to bring Al back once more, or die trying.
Automail again, and this alien world, without even any certainty that the Gate had returned Al on the other side. Two lonely years of searching for knowledge in the absence of alchemy, yearning for nothing but to know his brother was alive, even if they could never be reunited.
Envy’s reappearance, in the form of an impossible monster from legend. Noa, strong yet gentle, taking it upon herself to spare Ed from a second death at Envy’s hands—but at a price as bitter and taboo as human transmutation itself. The dark gift of her blood, the shock and bewilderment of transformation into a dhampir.
The Hunters, in all of their uncanny familiarity. The Maes Hughes of this world, and Ed’s guilt in unwittingly driving him to madness. Captivity, escape, the hunt for Envy. The return of Hohenheim, with all the answers he held. The last battle against Envy, and the hard-won victory that set the course for Ed and his new comrades, proving that alchemy was their weapon against the vampire-homunculi.
Somber reflections in a cemetery, as Hohenheim and the fallen Hunters were laid to rest. Ed’s quiet resolution that he would accept his new life, use it to share the Hunters’ fight against the evils his fellow alchemists had created, even though the question of Al’s fate would always leave a hollow place in his heart…
And the sudden, unexpected answer to that question, when the Gate delivered Alphonse into this world—daring Edward, for one last time, to trade his blood and Al’s humanity for their chance to be together.
Like the fog clearing from a mirror, the visions of the past gently evaporated. Al’s mouth had pulled away from the punctures on Ed’s neck. The boy clung and shivered, overwhelmed for a moment by the inhuman and unthinkably intimate experience of sensing all that was in his brother’s mind.
Wrapping his arms around Al’s waist, Ed whispered yet again those two familiar words: “I’m sorry.”
For a few seconds, Alphonse was still. Then he drew back just far enough to look up into Ed’s face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and there was a small trickle of blood at the corner of his lips; but those lips were twisted into a crooked, painful smile of fond exasperation.
“Ed, you idiot,” he said, his voice cracking only slightly.
Stung by the incongruity of the smile and the reproach, Ed gaped. “What?”
“For ever doubting how much I love you. For thinking I could blame you for something that was my fault too—even when I told you so many times that I was just as guilty.” Brimming eyes mock-glared at Ed. “If you weren’t the most important thing to me in any world, do you think I would have offered the Gate all I could give for you twice now?”
Shamefaced, Ed looked away. “I know that now… but for so long, it was so hard to convince myself that you wouldn’t hate me, no matter how much you showed me otherwise.” With a rueful sigh, he raised his left hand, brushing his thumb across the corner of Al’s mouth to wipe away the blood. “Maybe it’s because I hated myself so much for what I’d done, I couldn’t see how you could feel any differently.”
Al studied Ed’s face with grim thoughtfulness. Then he reached up to his own shirt collar, and tugged the fabric loose from his neck, just as Ed had done.
“It’s your turn now.”
Even though some part of Ed knew the offer should not be unexpected, it still shocked him to his core. He flinched back, staring at the pale skin of Al’s exposed throat, and then at Al’s intent, earnest eyes. “Al—”
“I mean it. You need this, Brother. If telling you and showing you how much I love you isn’t enough to get through all this hurt you’ve been carrying for so long… then at least now you can feel it, once and for all.”
A little while ago, the very thought of biting Al would have been unbearable; yet being bitten by him had taken away some of the revulsion. It forced brotherly protectiveness to give way to the realization that Al was now truly and fully a dhampir, with a new physiology designed to use these abilities. In any case, Ed knew that Al would not be denied in the matter. If anything, he had seized even more firmly upon the idea that this was the form Equivalent Exchange was to take for them now.
Besides… it was only right that after subjecting Al to his pain, Ed should feel the echoes of his brother’s own unique suffering as well.
Deeply reluctant, yet somehow tantalized, Ed slowly rose from his knees and settled on the edge of the bed. He sat sideways to face Al, lightly gripping the boy’s shoulders. Al gazed back at him with a look of determined expectation, and tilted his head just slightly to one side, the better to expose his waiting throat.
Trying not to think, Ed bowed his head close to Al’s neck. With his somewhat greater experience, it was less difficult for him to summon the impulses that would bring forth his fangs. Just a moment of focusing on his anger at the fact that Al was forced to share his fate as a dhampir—and there they were, two sharp points against the tip of Ed’s tongue. He was glad Al couldn’t see them as he opened his mouth, breathing in Al’s scent, bracing himself to do something that should have been unimaginable.
Only twice so far had Ed bitten Noa, driven both times by an injury-induced starvation that compelled him to tear viciously into her flesh. This time, with Al, he was at least blessedly in control of himself. He inflicted little more than a gentle nip: a slight scrape of his fang-tips against soft young skin, just enough to draw a small taste of blood.
This was all that was needed to spark the connection between their minds. For one moment as the vision came, Ed had to force himself not to break away, not to recoil in fear of taking from the soul he had always fought so desperately to protect…
But that soul welcomed him with a surge of joy and love that overwhelmed him, that drew him into its embrace, even before the first glimpse of true memory took shape.
Their shared childhood once more. Al’s early memories, of playing and fighting and mourning together, were so much a mirror of Ed’s own—except for one thing. Instead of the heavy weight of responsibility, the fear of inadequacy, Al felt only innocent trust and admiration for the big brother who protected and guided him. He had absolute faith in Ed, even after their mother died… and even when his conscience whispered doubts of the dark, forbidden path Ed laid out for them.
The night of the transmutation. Anxious fears Ed had felt as well, but refused to admit to—and on top of that, Al’s fear of failing Ed, of making some tiny mistake in the equations that would leave him guilty of disaster. His last sensations: the prick of the knife on his finger, the nervous thumping of his heart, the silken slickness of the array’s chalk dust on his hands. The terror as it all went monstrously wrong, and the barely-remembered shadow of a pain that was briefer than Ed’s, but far more shocking.
It was the pain of Al’s entire body being torn away from his soul.
The Gate. Perhaps spurred by his far more recent and vivid encounter with it, Al remembered it now; but this first recollection was still vague, a hazy jumble of dark and light and utter absence. All he really knew of those moments between worlds was a sense of fading, the terrifying slide of his disembodied soul toward oblivion—until he was captured by a sudden gravity that pulled him back. For an instant, he thought he heard Ed’s voice, and then there was nothing.
Waking in the armor. Numbness, confusion, shock; and then a horror which, at least for a time, pushed aside all thoughts and feelings about his own condition. The sight of Ed huddled before him, half his limbs gone, bleeding out a sea of red.
Carrying Ed’s maimed and unconscious body to the Rockbell home, as if his older brother was no more burden than a feather. Feeling nothing on the outside—neither Ed’s weight, nor the warmth of his spreading blood, nor the wetness and cold of the rain that pounded down ringingly upon the armor—yet on the inside, feeling an anguished fear worse than anything the Gate could have wrought upon him personally. The fear that Brother would die.
After, when Alphonse knew that Ed’s condition was stable, and Ed’s blood had been cleaned from the steel shell that enclosed him. The first of so many long nights devoid of sleep. Sitting beside his brother’s bed in the half-light, staring down at the leather gauntlets that had become his hands; wondering if he could still be human, or even a living thing.
Hearing Ed cry out in the night from his wounds and his nightmares. Feeling the hurt of his brother’s pain, somewhere in the emptiness where his heart should have been. The one thing that assured him he was still human after all—at least until morning, when Ed awakened, to cling and weep and breathe out tortured apologies. Because Ed’s love made him feel more human than anything else ever could.
Days and months of slowly recovering together. Uselessly watching Ed endure the further agonies of automail surgery, and then at last begin to grow stronger—even as Al himself adjusted to his alien new form. Learning how to move, how to control the strength of his steel frame, how to handle objects without a sense of touch.
Learning not to feel guilty in the moments, every now and then, when he caught himself almost enjoying some of the things he could do.
Their departure from Resembool. Fear of the vast unknown beyond their home; fear of what awaited Brother in his ambition to become a State Alchemist. Determination to take up that challenge equally with Ed, and dismayed frustration when he was not permitted to. Fierce resolve that even without a military commission, he would remain at Ed’s side, do his best to share the burden Ed had taken upon himself… and through the years that followed, more fears and guilts of his own, as their journey took a far greater toll on Ed’s fragile body than his own impervious shell. The helpless feeling that with his great strength and sturdiness, he could have and should have done more to keep Ed from getting hurt. Days when he secretly longed for nothing more than to end their quest: to submit to the fate they had brought upon themselves, and build a new life just as they were, so that Brother would cease to suffer in a fight for the impossible.
The good and the bad of their experiences. Friends, and enemies, and total strangers in need of help. Brushes with death, and occasional fights with each other; yet always, they were together, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.
Liore. Marta’s brutal murder, and Al’s guilty grief at being unable to protect her. Kimbley, Scar, the terrifying burden of the Philosopher’s Stone forged within him. Hohenheim, and Dante, and the final battle.
The horror of seeing Ed die at Envy’s hands.
The refusal to accept such an end after all their struggles, choosing instead to save Brother with the Stone—or else to die with him. Sacrifice… and then waking as a ten-year-old child again, bereft and bewildered, in a world that had aged five years since his last memory.
Brother’s absence, an emptiness deeper than any Alphonse had ever felt in the hollow armor. The yearning for nothing more than to have Ed back, no matter the cost. His fight to recover his memories, to train and grow stronger again for the search, only to find that he had lost more than he first realized. The creeping onset of frail weakness, as his body preyed on his fractured soul. His dreams of Ed, his one delicate link to the missing piece of himself that Ed carried, causing him to cherish the very condition that was killing him—until even the dreams ceased, their last thread of connection unknowingly severed by Ed’s undeath.
The final option to survive, by sealing himself forever within his armor… and yet again, his choice that even death with Brother was preferable to life without him. A final entreaty granted by the Gate, but at a savage price, demanding flesh as payment for the reunion that would heal his soul.
Unspeakable pain—and then joy at the sight of Ed’s face leaning over him. The warmth of his own gushing blood, mingled with the warmth of his missing soul-piece as it was absorbed back into his being. The cold, sharp bitterness of Ed’s blood upon his lips. A gentle rest, followed by awakening to yet another new life: tainted now by an inhuman darkness, yet caring only that he was with Brother once again.
Edward pulled away from Al’s throat with a shiver, pressing his automail hand over eyes that streamed with tears.
For a moment, even now that he was fully adapted as a dhampir, the memories seemed more than he could process. The images and sensations were myriad and staggering—but Al’s emotions were what gripped him, because they were everything his little brother had promised.
The love Al had for him was more than he could begin to comprehend. All his apologies, all his guilt, all his struggles to make amends… yet Al loved him so much, he counted nothing to be apologized for. At least, not to himself. In Al’s eyes, the true repayment of their shared misdeed was owed to the world, the natural balance of existence whose laws they had violated. Rather than expect recompense for the loss of his body, he had instead felt only grief that Ed pushed so hard in the effort, continuing to endure hurt while Al’s own metal husk could feel no pain at all. Even when his body was restored, he would have given it up again in a heartbeat to have Ed back.
In the end, he had certainly tried his best at that. Like Ed himself, he survived only because this new world offered a way to cheat death, forged by the very sins of other alchemists. It was the most perverse twist of fortune… or perhaps providence.
Al’s hand came to rest gently on the top of Ed’s bowed head.
“Do you understand now, Brother?” the boy asked, his voice a quivering whisper.
Too choked with emotion to speak, Ed could only nod faintly and throw his arms around Al’s shoulders, hugging him tightly.
“Good.” Al returned the hug, nuzzling his cheek against Ed’s neck, where the marks of his own bite had already vanished. “We’ll be okay now, Ed. Both of us. We’re together—and we’re not alone.”
“…I know.” Ed sniffed and pulled back a little, to smile tearfully at Al. “And I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think I could ever feel that way about having you in this world, like this… but I see now. And I promise, I—”
He found himself silenced by Al’s finger against his lips. “No more promises, Brother. We don’t need them anymore—not to each other. The only promise we should make now is to do our best for this world, and try to save it from the monsters our world created. Because that’s what we’re here for… It’s what it was all for. I’m sure of that.”
Ed gave a feeble shrug. “I think I want to believe that. Maybe I can learn to… It’ll just take me a little time.” His expression grew firmer, and he clasped Al’s hand in his own. “But I will make that promise with you. This is our home now—and we’re going to protect it.”
When Al beamed at him in approving joy, he knew that smile was the only sunlight he would ever need again.
The moment was ended by a knock on the door. Ed called for the visitor to come in, and when Noa entered, he was remarkably unashamed to be caught still wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Al didn’t even bother to rub the tears from his own cheeks, but smiled up at the girl with a bright sense of relieved happiness.
Whether or not Noa glimpsed the last fading trace of the bite on Al’s neck, she seemed to sense immediately what had passed between the two brothers. Understanding filled her eyes, and a brief, warm smile crossed her lips as well.
“Councilor Bradley has called a meeting,” she informed them, quickly sobering. “We’ve received word from the Council.”
That news was enough to stir butterflies—or at least the dhampiric equivalent—in Ed’s undead stomach. He quickly stood up with a nod, and stepped forward to follow Noa out of the room, joined by Alphonse.
As they made their way down the hall, Al glanced between Noa ahead of them, and Edward beside him.
“I take it back,” the boy mused with a little smile, in a murmur just loud enough for Ed’s enhanced hearing to detect. “There is one more promise I want to see you make—but not to me.”
Ed nearly faltered in his stride. He shot a look of surprise and chagrin at his little brother, and found himself stifling a snort of laughter when Al grinned back at him cheekily.
It really shouldn’t have been the time and place for the good feelings that were creeping into his heart. At least, not until they knew whether the news from Paris was good or bad… but still, Ed couldn’t help it. He felt a buoyant lightness inside him, where the accumulated weight of seven years’ pain and fear had been lifted from his soul.
He knew then that sharing Al’s mind had changed him forever, and he wasn’t sorry for it.
The slate of their past was clean. In time, the grim burdens of life as dhampirs and Hunters might very well begin to darken it again; but for now, Ed was almost strangely at peace. Something felt complete in the brothers’ lives that had not been for years, if ever. Whatever was ahead, they had new strength to face it together, along with their new friends—perhaps now their family.
Edward Elric had long known the feeling of purpose. Now, for the first time he could remember, he knew the feeling of belonging.
They entered the meeting room to find that with the exception of Sig, who did not live on the premises, the other Hunters had already gathered there. Councilor Bradley was sitting at the head of the table, gazing intently at his steepled fingertips; but when he saw Ed and Al arrive to take their seats, a faint, weary smile curled beneath his mustache.
“Only a few minutes ago, I received a message from Marta,” he announced. “The conflict within the Council has been resolved—at least for the time being. In the end, all but two of my fellow Councilors were persuaded to give the potential of alchemy a chance. The dissenting pair have quit the Council and left Paris, still vowing to take any measures necessary to oppose its use… but at least now we have time to make our own case to those who remain. Knowing them as I do, I believe we can convince them that alchemy’s power to save lives is more than worth its risks.”
Around the table, bated breaths were exhaled in sighs of cautious relief. Riza slipped her hand into Roy’s, giving him a tiny smile. He squeezed her fingers in return, but his expression was troubled.
“That doesn’t mean this is even close to being over. When Hunter cells all over the world learn about alchemy, they’re going to go through the exact same thing. Other Hunters will start defecting to those two dissidents, and I’m sure it won’t be long before they’ve established their own organization—one that targets alchemists just as much as vampires.”
Bradley nodded gravely. “That’s true—but having the majority of the Council on our side is crucial to us. Most Hunters will follow their lead, and at least for a while, they’ll provide us the benefit of the doubt. What we have to do is use that time to prove the value of this new weapon, and reassure them that it can be kept out of the wrong hands.”
“Can we do that?” Vato asked grimly. “As easily as our kind can gain knowledge from each other, any rogue dhampir could steal the secrets of alchemy from one of us with a single bite.”
Ed scowled at that, clenching his fists on the tabletop.
“It will happen,” he stated flatly. “Sooner or later, alchemy will spread farther than we intended it to, and we’ll have to face a few lunatics who want to use it for wrong… but I never said this wasn’t going to be dangerous. Alchemy is the one thing that can finally protect this world from vampires—but at the same time, we’ve also got to protect alchemy and this world from each other.”
“That’s not really so different from what we had to do every day in our world,” Al remarked gently.
Noa spoke up. “The most important thing is to start putting alchemy in the right hands—other Hunters we can trust to use it for good. We’ll have to be careful in screening those who want to use it… but we do have an advantage there. We can look into the minds of other dhampirs before we give them the knowledge, to be sure they’re stable enough, and they have only the right intentions.”
“And that process must begin with the Council itself,” Bradley agreed, turning to the Elric brothers. “As you are the root source of alchemy in this world, you can best present our argument in its favor. Will you go with me to Paris? There should be no danger for you there now—but regardless, I promise that you will be completely protected.” Receiving Ed’s nod, he glanced around the table at the other Hunters. “All of you should come to give your testimony as well. When the Council sees what you here have become together, and what you achieved together in defeating Envy, they’ll understand the value of what we offer.”
The Hunters gave nods and murmurs of assent. After a moment’s hesitation, Jean leaned forward to address Bradley, with a request that utterly astonished Edward.
“Chief, if it’s alright with you—I mean, and if you think those two Councilors who split off might try to make trouble any time soon—well, I’d like to take on the duty of being Ed and Al’s personal bodyguard.” He glanced at Noa and then Ed, meeting their shocked expressions with a faint, rueful smile. “I’ve got plenty of reason to want to see Fullmetal safe… and I don’t just mean because of alchemy.”
Grateful tears welled in Noa’s eyes. Her left hand clasped over her mouth, while her right hand seized Ed’s, out of sight underneath the edge of the table.
Bradley looked between the Elrics, Noa, and Jean, arching his eyebrow with a sort of fatherly amusement. “I’ll leave that decision to you and your intended charges—and to the very capable protector Edward already has. If there are no objections from them, I certainly have none.” He rose, pausing to glance over each of the London Hunters. “We’ll travel tonight. And now, my friends, you should rest. A new day has quite literally dawned, for all of us.”
The Councilor left the room first. Roy and Riza followed, with his arm around her shoulders. Vato and Heymans also departed together, in quiet conversation. Ed, Al, and Noa lingered—looking to Jean as he approached them, with an uncharacteristic diffidence.
“Jean,” Noa breathed softly, leaning into his arms to deliver a hug of heartfelt appreciation and affection.
“…Yeah.” Incapable though he was of blushing, the awkward expression on his face made up for it. He squeezed Noa’s shoulders once, and then stepped back demurely, glancing at Ed. “I know I don’t have to tell you to take care of her… and like I said, I plan on making sure you’ll be around to for a long, long time.”
Ed smiled slowly. He extended his gloved automail hand, and Jean wavered for only a second before grasping it.
© 2015 Jordanna Morgan
CHAPTERS: I. - II. - III. - IV. - V. - Epilogue