desert fic, still sans title

[mikkeneko]

"Why'd I save you? Two reasons." The boy was clearly making an effort to push back some strong emotion; how uncharacteristic of him. "One, because it's what Al would have wanted. I don't know what the fuck he saw in you, you bastard, but he wouldn't have wanted to let you die there in the sand, and he wouldn't have turned you over to the soldiers, either. He's just that kind of an idiot."

Oh yes. He had a good idea of just how much of an idiot kind, soft-hearted Alphonse Elric was. He couldn't forget the way Al had pushed himself into the fight between himself and Kimbley, trying his best to get them to stop, to end the violence; his interference had only made things worse, but the important thing was that he tried. "And?"

"And the second reason is that I want some goddamned answers!" Ed hissed, and leaned over him; teeth bared and eyes flashing. "All I saw was that burst of light. Al was in that city, you bastard, and now he's gone, I can't find him anywhere, all I found was your worthless hide --"

Ed continued ranting for a bit, but he was more worried about the implications of this. All the memories from that point on were too fuzzy. Too patchy. But he thought he remembered --

" -- And also," Ed said, snapping his attention back as he moved his hand to his thigh, pulling something out from where it had been lying against his skin. Ed shoved it in his face, and it made him almost ill to have it so near -- red and terrible, terrible -- " --I want to know what in hell is this!"

He stared. The light hurt his eyes, but he couldn't stop. It was beautiful, there could be no doubt about it; seductively beautiful. A perfectly spherical gem, as round as a glass ball, but with angular facet lines tracing over the surface like an aster. Through its surface and over every line the red light flickered and danced, glowing like a banked coal. In the very heart of the gem there was one flaw, shaped like a hook; the hook to snare the heart of the unwary man who stared too long into its depths. He pulled his eyes away with a shiver. Was this what he had created?

"I would think you would know just as well as I," he said quietly. "Is it not what you were searching for?"

"What good does it do me now?" Edward raged, fire in his eyes and fury shaking his limbs. "What use is it to me if he's not here? I wanted this for him! It was going to be ours! What am I going to do if he isn't here, it's worth nothing, it's just a piece of worthless trash --"

Ed choked on his own emotion, shuddering fiercely; his metal hand clenched at the floor of the cave until rock crumbled in his grip. But not that rock, he noted; even in the midst of his fury, Ed held it carefully, cradled against his skin. It seemed that even now the Stone seduced him.

Or was it that --

He closed his eyes abruptly, the only distance he could put between them. "I don't remember," he said.

"What?"

"I don't remember what I did," he said quietly, and it wasn't entirely a lie, not with his memory blown to pieces like it was. "I don't remember making the Stone, and I don't know what happened to Alphonse."

"If he was in the city when it blew --!"

"He was already dying by that time."

A sudden movement, and an impact that resolved almost immediately to pain -- he opened his eyes to see Edward's face, twisted by fury and grief, inches from his own. The metal hand clenched at his throat, and the jointed elbow leaned hard on his collarbone. "How," Edward choked out. "How is that even possible, he was -- how could you, he trusted you, you bastard -- that can't be, he either lived or died, he -- I'm going to fucking crush your throat --"

"Not because of me," he interrupted, more because he didn't want Alphonse's trust in him to be betrayed, even in Edward's memory, than because he cared about the crushing hand. "The Crimson Alchemist entered the city; we fought. Your brother attempted to intervene in the fight, and Crimson turned on him."

"No," Ed whispered, his hand going slack from the shock.

"It was his habit," he said quietly, distant with the memory, "to play with those he killed, when he could, to grant them deaths as lingering and painful, and frightening, as he could devise. He attacked Alphonse: I struck him down. He refused to die alone. I don't know the exact mechanism, but he alchemized your brother, turned him into a time bomb --"

"No," Ed cried out, and he winced as the metal fist thumped unconsciously against his chest. "Why wasn't I there? I could have turned him back, I could have stopped -- Why didn't you fix him?" the boy demanded, unreasonably. "You were there! Didn't you care enough?"

"I did not know how."

"It's not that hard, you fucking bastard, you had hooked up to you the biggest alchemical battery, alchemists would kill -- have killed -- did kill for! You couldn't manage such a basic --"

"I did what I could to give him more time. I could not stay; the military was already entering the town." He didn't tell Alphonse's brother exactly what he had done to try and reverse the transmutation. He didn't tell him what happened after that. It was not entirely a lie; only a lie of omission.

"So he might have gotten out!" Edward was clearly grasping at straws. "Someone from the military might have found... That asshole Colonel was around, Armstrong, if they found him they could fix him up right quick... maybe they took him out again oh my God if you managed to kill them too I swear I will strangle you with my own hands --"

That Edward was willing to let him live despite the deaths of a thousand of his countrymen but willing to murder over the deaths of two was not an inconsistency worth pointing out to him. After all, he himself had sustained his righteous rage during the long nights not with the thought of crumbling Ishvar, but his brother's drying eyes in the sand.

Edward was sitting back now, head bowed and shoulders shaking; the boy released his grip and sank back, rocking on his heels and crossing his arms over his chest. He still clutched the Stone to his chest, cradling it against his skin, and it was as much from the blinding light of the thing as from the display of emotion that he had to shield his eyes.




After a while Edward got up and left his side, and the light retreated. He watched with vague interest as Ed moved around the small cave; when he went to the back, well away from the sunlight, there was the splashing of water and he realized where the water from last night must have come from. "You were lucky to find a cave with a spring," he said out loud. "They're rare and precious in this region."

Ed turned to face him, and managed a smile from somewhere, as though the observation had been a compliment. "Lucky my ass," he said. "I didn't find this spring, I made it. Had to burrow through nearly a mile of solid bedrock to bring it to the surface, but it's either that or make it from scratch, which is a pain. Had to do that before we found this place, and it tastes nasty."

In what appeared to be a glass cup -- more alchemy? -- Ed scooped up some of the water and brought it back over, dumping it in the bowl of food and bending over it. He clapped his hands and placed them on the sides of the bowl; there was another blinding flash of alchemy, and then Edward was bending over what appeared to be a bowl of oatmeal.

He frowned. If not for the spring, they likely would have both died in the desert sun; the same for the food Edward had apparently transmuted out of dry grasses. But the last year had taught him nothing if not that the old Ishvarites had been right about the Art. Alchemy, no matter how apparently benign, was an abomination against the natural order of things that twisted even the best intentions to ruin.

He said this to Edward; predictably, the boy scowled. "That old line again?" the boy said scornfully. "Fine then, you can eat and drink fuckall. There's nothing around here except what I make, you ungrateful bastard. Do you really want to die? I can arrange it quick if you'd like!"

"Mmm." Actually, he didn't particularly care one way or the other. He'd never intended to survive Lior.

Hadn't survived Lior.

Memories came back to him, fragmentary and overwhelming, and something ached in his gut. Alphonse had saved him. He did not know how, or why, but the one certainty he had carried out of that chaos was that Alphonse had returned him to life -- for however much longer -- by means of the very power he had died to create.

He'd seen too many people kill with alchemy, and for it, and by it. He'd never wanted his life artificially extended by such obscene means.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been consulted in the matter.



Changed a few things, rearranged. I have a little bit more written but it's late and I have to stop and I'm not at an ending point there.

Comments

[herongale]

Wow. *adores* This is great. Beyond great. If anax decides not to give you his paid time, for whatever reason, you are getting some from ME.

... and, um... that's not REALLY paying you for writing fanfic. It's just gratitude.

...Yeah.

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Ahhh, job security!

[jade-pen.livejournal.com]

Very nice, Sloth-sama. Love what you're doing with Edward, by the way; you explain both why he's so angry, and why he's not acting on that anger, extremely well. I really did feel his pain when he started thinking of other options; hoping that Al had gotten out, that there had been another way... and, of course, his mental fight over the Philosopher's Stone was well-done, in only a few words.

As for Scar... you did a good job with him; despite your previous request for comments about his characterization, there are really only a few things that I could possibly suggest, and even those are based on personal opinion. Mrm... *checks the clock, needs to head out soon* Catch me on AIM some time? I'd be more than happy to offer what little I can, especially for a story as promising as this one.

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your suggestions! And I'm very glad that Edward's feelings come through, even from Scar's point of view; he's very easy to read, that boy.

[devils-devotion.livejournal.com]

Eeeee, more Scar!fic. I shall indulge in a blessed fangirl moment.

*does so, complete with al-kee-hol and gratuitous use of the phrase "OMG!"*

I can't help much with a title, though. ^^;; My titles lose at life. But hey, DT fic complete with Scar and MORE ED TORTURE! Whee!

Ed torture: it's what you do. XD;;

/parody of that 'verb' commercial

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Ed-torture is my anti-drug.

DT fic? Divergent timeline?

[lily22.livejournal.com]

You rock so much! ^_^ Now all they have to do is find Al and we'll have us an OT3.

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

*looks away and whistles*

[lily22.livejournal.com]

...

^__________^

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Optomistic, aren't you? ^_~

[lily22.livejournal.com]

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. :)

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

Hai, hai! Working hard~

[asidian.livejournal.com]

...ah. *whimpers* ...-ah-. *-hurts-*

...I can't breathe. Because it -hurts- to breathe. The part where... where Ed is asking what good the stone is if Al isn't there anymore. Just. -Cut- me.

I want... to know what happened. And at the same time, I don't. Because I am so, so afraid I won't like the answer. Curse you! ;_;

[mikkeneko.livejournal.com]

I really hoped someone would appreciate that part out of all the Scar-ness. ^_^