(no subject)
Title: To be Human
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Warnings: Movie Spoilers, violence, Slash, implied molestation, angst
Rating: Pg-R
Type: Adventure, Angst, and Fluff
Pairing: Al/Wrath
Characters: Al, Wrath and Dante
Summery: Al and Wrath explore what it is to be human.
Chapter 2
The great pit opened up, screaming flashes of blue while lighting and
storm like winds, ripping though his very soul. Alphonse Elric cried,
hands straining out, reaching for the pale fingers stretching toward him.
Blackened tendrils tore into him, searing his flesh and eating away
muscle and skin. The boy howled, clawing at the things as they burrowed painfully into his limbs and dissolved his body. Slithering, the things wrapped about him, slipping under the fabric of his shorts searching for any entrance to his small form.
Alphonse Elric screamed…
And bolted up, panting horror stricken and he reached out for a
phantom hand, searching desperately for the face of his brother. The
great eye and withering tentacles of black leered down at him, causing
the boy to recoil, screams and whimpers exploding from his lips as he
shivered deeper against the placid form curled up near him. He gave a gasp as he dimly became aware of something turning him and shaking him.
“Al! Alphonse Elric! Idiot! It’s a dream!! Snap out of it!”
He felt himself jerk, the images of dark withering things fading from
his mind as he focused on a set of large violet eyes, and pale creased
lips. Fear, fear and concern filled those violet midnight pools as the
boy before him shook him out of his hysterical state. “It’s a dream,
it’s a dream! Can’t you hear me, damn it?”
The fear lingered, smoky wisps of terror caressing his shaking limbs.
Alphonse Elric blinked numbly at the boy before him.
Indeed, it wasn’t real, it was a dream. A dream so far away he
scarcely recalled what had terrified him so, only that he was panting,
and sweating as if he were running in a panicked state. “Wrath?” he
asked, lips unable to form the word coherently. He was violently
shivering and had to curl up into a ball to steady himself.
The homunculus looked at him, sympathy glinting in his relieved eyes.
He patted and stroked Al’s back until the shaking stopped. “You were
screaming.” He said voice barely a whisper. “It sounded like an animal
being gutted.”
Burying his face, Al nodded into his knees. Yes, he felt tired and
confused. “I had a bad dream.” He whispered, trying to peer though the
black voice hovering over his mind. What was it about? Did he want to
know? It caused fear he was certain he never wanted to feel again. “I
was dying I think.”
“Dying?” Wrath asked, cool fingers traced down Al’s face and lifted
his chin.
Alphonse swallowed. “I don’t know. I don’t remember it, I just know it
hurt, and it was scary. That’s all.”
Porcelain features wrinkled and Wrath drew in a breath, attention
shifting to the darkness beyond him. “I know that sound.” Wrath said,
his voice hitching with pain.
“What sound?" Al asked, the fear hadn’t settled, and he leaned into
Wrath’s side.
“You saw it, didn’t you?" Wrath looked down at him, an arm awkwardly
wrapping about him. “It’s scary, I know. It scares me too. I don’t
ever want to go back to it, either.”
It? Al watched the boy’s face in the silver rays of the moonlight.
Yes, yes, he was right, the fear was the same, whatever Wrath was
talking about frightened him the same way. “Fear for my soul, my body,
everything.” Al said, hand touching the marble face. “What is it called?”
“The gate.” Wrath informed with a shudder. “I don’t ever want to go
back there. It’s a cold dead place.”
The air was cool and bit into him, goose-pimpling Al’s exposed flesh.
He pulled his brother’s red coat around them, hoping whatever
lingering strength Edward’s soul could offer would chase the terror
and chill away. “Yes, it was a horrible place.” Al agreed, closing his
eyes.
He heard the crackle of the fire and felt the body next to him ease
him closer. “Very horrible. If you’ve been there, than you do
understand.” Wrath’s lips touched his ear and spoke so quietly,
Alphonse barely heard. “I’m not a part of it, Al. I don’t ever want to
be a part of it again, do you understand? I wish I had a soul, so
I could escape it… A soul like yours, one that shines and that is warm
all of the time…”
There was no envy or hatred in his voice; Wrath was just stating a
fact. He was frightened, and Al couldn’t blame him. This gate was a
terrible place. The human boy peeked up though long golden bangs,
wishing with all his heart he could help his friend. “To have a soul,
you have to be human.” Al whispered. Was it even possible to give a
Homunculus a soul? If it was, he could try and find it. He owed it to
the boy, Wrath was trying to be human. “And I promise, I’ll find a way
to, if there is one to help you, Wrath. I am an alchemist after all.”
The homunculus gave a weak smile, and curled up against him. “Thank
you Al, and I promise it will never get you again, ok? Is it a deal?”
“Equivalent Exchange.” Al let his eyes slipped closed once more and
fell back into a deep slumber.
*&*&*&*
“Why did we come here?” Al asked looking up at the large house looming
before them. It was a large white columned plantation, settled up on a
hill, surrounded by a grove of trees. The gardens around it were over
grown, and the lawn was a field of tall grasses and leafy weeds. The
place looked unattended to with its broken windows and wild
shrubbery, but it hadn’t been for long, because the paint and upkeep
of the building itself was still good.
“Because I needed to come here.” Wrath informed him, glancing at Al. He shifted uncomfortably, as if nervous, and his eyes were wide with
hollow fear. That long dark hair fell into his face, making his
features paler than usual. Ever since they started on this trip, Wrath
had been acting very worried.
“We don’t need to do this.” Alphonse told him, touching his shoulder.
The homunculus was now wearing shorts and a deep red T shirt. They had
been travelling for several months now, and Wrath had now taken to dressing like a human being, and seemed comfortable with it. “This place bothers you.”
“I know.” Wrath admitted. “But we both share memories here.” He
removed Al’s hands and walked slowly up the porch steps. “She lived
here. The Monster who claimed she’d give me what I wanted, and told me
I could never be human.”
“Dante?” Al followed dropping his suitcase near the foot of the steps,
next to Wrath’s now battered backpack. He looked up to the door,
feeling a knot in his stomach. He felt fear, along with a flood of
frustration. He had no memory of this place. It was a blank empty
hole. “I should remember her, after what you told me she did. But I
still see nothing.”
“Do you feel anything?” Wrath asked, his hand touched the door, and
slid to the door knob. “You should feel something. This is where
your brother killed Greed.”
The only thing he felt was a hint of terror and intense sadness, but
the feels were easily attributed to empathy to Wrath’s emotions.
Alphonse Elric shook his head. “You met her here?”
“I was here once.” Wrath informed. “This was the first place. She was
an old lady then. Other place…” He shivered. “I’ll never be ready to
go there.”
The other place was a city, under the ground. The place Al only
faintly recalled waking up in, with Rose at his side. “Someday, we
have to go there.” Al said, softly. “Don’t you think?”
Wrath shook his head, hand rattling the knob. “It hurts to think of
that place. The door is locked, should I break it?”
Shaking his head, Al, put his hands together, and touched the knob. He
made mental calculations. The arrays drawn on his gloves helped to
spark a reaction that crackled though the door and twisted and altered
the lock. “Try it now.”
The door popped open. A mixture of delight and hesitation crossed
Wrath’s porcelain face. “I will go first, and make sure it is safe.”
Wrath liked to protect him. Al folded his arms, aware if he argued the
point, he’d lose. Every since the night of the dream, Wrath had taken
on the mantle of protector, even though in many ways Al was just as
capable of protecting him as well. In the end, it made Wrath feel
good, if not useful. “If you insist.”
“I insist.” Wrath smiled and slipped inside.
Leaning up against the door frame, Al peered into the gloom. The room
was dark, and it appeared all the windows had been covered with
canvas. He could smell a distinct sweetness mixed with the dry dusty
stale air of a room that had been closed off without fresh air for
some days.
The boy squinted, he could vaguely see Wrath in the inky dark. The
homunculus was a mere lithe shadow darting about the room, searching
out every nook and cranny for any signs of trouble.
Al sighed, shaking his head, sometimes the dark haired boy reminded
him too much of Edward. They were very much alike in many ways. It
was no wonder why they didn’t get along.
A pained retching drew his attention back to the room. The boy
frowned. Wrath had stopped short of a curved stair well. The
homunculus fell to the marble floor, on to his hands and knees, arms
snaking around his gut.
Homunculi never got ill. The hairs on the back of Al’s neck stood on
end. Apprehensively he stepped into the darkness, looking around at
the dark shapes around him. The room was octagonal, with domed ceiling
and two arched entrance ways leading to rooms beyond the foyer. A
stiarwail spiraled up to the right, and he could see a door next to it.
Certain there was no one to be seen, Al stepped carefully toward his
friend. The boy was kneeling in a blackened marble pattern fixed into
the floor. It was a circle with whirling forms in the center.
Agonized, Wrath shuttered, pink and red globs of goop spilling out of
his mouth.
Alchemy. Chill filled Al as he paused before the circle. He had to
work fast.” It’s all right, Wrath. I’ll just break the circle. “ Al
informed gently. “This was probably here before, all I need to do is
Alter the array.”
Glazed eyes focused on his, and Wrath shook his head looking up though
long tangled black silk. “Get out of here Al, go! It’s dangerous!” He
gave a pained cry, than convulsed violently. Al squinted, suddenly
becoming aware the red goop he was vomiting was stones.
“I’m not leaving you!” Al snapped, putting his hands together.
The dark haired boy struggled to his feet, horror filling his violet
eyes. “No Al! Behind you!”
The words were barely out of Wrath’s mouth when something seized
Alphonse from behind. There was a sharp stinging pain that plunged a
cold burning into his veins. Instinctively, the boy clawed at the
hands holding him in a vein attempt to wretch free, but the room
around him tilted, drunkenly, and Al swooned into the arms holding him.
“What a good boy.” A woman’s voice cooed in his ears. “Such a sweet
thing, isn’t he, Wrath? Aren’t I fortunate his brother worked so hard
to get him his body back…”
Fingers seemed to float up his body as the arms holding him shifted,
and lifted him up. Al felt his lids droop as blackness edged his
vision. He could barely see Wrath across from him. The dark haired
homunculus snarled and strained against the invisible binds of the
array sealing him. “Let him go you bitch! He’s the only good thing I
have! Let him go! PLEASE!”
A cold tinkling laugh seared Al with shivers of numb terror before
blackness stole his senses.
*&*&*&*&*
“He really is just lovely, isn’t he?” Under the veil of dark dreams,
Alphonse’s mind floundered for consciousness. “Wrath, you are fond of
him. I can see it in your eyes. Do you wish to have him? I can give
you that, and so much more….”
Something rough touched his cheek, and traced down his face to his
throat and down to his chest. Fingers tickled a nipple, sending his
mind into a frenzied panic. Lips, touched his ear, and breathed. “So
much potential to work with. Just a few adjustments, his body will
indeed be perfect.”
Alphonse Elric moaned. His head ached, and his stomach churned as he
rolled his head. It was an effort to crack open his eyes.
Consciousness threatened to fade with the flood of flickering candle light, forcing the boy to retreat into the darkness behind his lids.
He felt heavy; yet, one thing was clear to him, his friend was in
danger, trapped in a sealing array.
“Wrath?” His thick tongue flopped around in his mouth, clumsily
slurring his words as he spoke.
“You do look so much like your father.” The voice continued. The rough
hand closed about his face and turned it. “Pretty as you are now, I
strongly suspect that will change. Even the pretty boys grow up. But I
can’t be picky can I?”
“Please, please let him go…” Wrath’s pained words trickled into the
dim haze of his clouded mind.
The sound of the dark haired boy’s voice forced Al to open his eyes
once more. Slowly he took stock of his surroundings.
He was in a stone room, a cellar, with gas lamps on the brick walls
and concrete floors. He noticed barrels stacked in rows against the
back wall, and two clear vats of red liquid. The liquid was clear, and
had a faint glow to it. It had bubbles that didn’t seem to move
telling him it was a viscous and unfamiliar fluid.
A desk with shelves of books stood near the vats, and Al noticed his
clothing and notebook sitting on the chair. Other books and papers
were spread over the desk.
A door was adjacent to the desk, but other than that, the room was
bare, and hauntingly dark with fleeting shadows that crawled across
the floor with the flicker of the lamps.
He was lying on the floor, nude, legs spread eagled, chained by the
ankles to the cold hard floor. His right arm was stretched out over
his head, locked down by a shackle around the wrist. His other hand
lay limply at his side. He was feeling horridly weak, and it was
difficult to move his head and almost impossible to lift his arm.
Overhead were the red etchings of an array, as was beneath his body. It was a lyrical etching, with broad swirls and a design he didn’t
recognize. Not even the strange rune like writing in the middle was
familiar.
Fighting down the serge of panic, Alphonse shuddered a breath. His
chained arm was cold and his fingers numb. He could feel a sharp pain
in his wrist and the sensation of something dangling against his arm.
The boy focused on a bag of red liquid hanging from a pole standing
next to his body. It was an IV, and he suspected it was the source of
his drowsiness.
A pale woman with short dark hair in a delicately laced golden gown
straddled him. She was leaning, one hand on the floor, and the other
holding his chin. Her face was so close to his, he could feel her
breath tickling his cheeks.
She smiled thinly, pale doll-like features splitting into a sweet but
sensual smile. She was pretty, her dark hair cropped at a severe angle, like an Egyptian goddess. Yet something sinister lurked behind her alluring gaze. She looked at him as if she wanted him, or wanted
something from him. “Why Wrath, my dear, he is awake.”
“I’m sorry, Al! Really I am, can you forgive me?” Wrath’s voice was
weak and child like.
With an effort, Al turned his gaze toward the boy’s voice. He was
hanging against the wall, wrists bound by the cement itself. Like Al,
he was stripped, small body pale against the cold gray stone. He was
the center piece of the red transmutation circle. Wrath struggled like a wild animal against the bonds, large violet eyes glinting with a
mixture of terror and rage.
“Of course I forgive you.” It agonized him to see the homunculus so
frightened and weakened. It made Al’s gut tighten with anger. He
stamped down the nausea and exhaustion gripping his limbs and tried to
lift his free hand.
The woman laughed fingers curling about Al’s hand. She brought his
fingers to her lips and kissed them. “I wouldn’t try anything naughty,
young Alphonse. You don’t want to damage your body do you? It would be
rather rude, since we will both living there soon enough.”
“Damage?” Groggily, Al squinted, fogged brain fighting to understand
what she was implying. “I don’t…”
“Of course you don’t, Alphonse.” Gently, the woman laid his wrist into
a shackle built into the array design around him. “Would you like to
know? I see the curiosity in your eyes. Yes, you are a kind hearted
soul that would never allow anyone to suffer, aren’t you Alphonse?”
“Don’t listen to her Al!” Wrath yanked at the bonds. His lips trembled
as he started at the young alchemist. Long black hair dangled into his
face, its shaggy tresses veiling one of his eyes completely. “This is
the monster who lied to me! She told me I couldn’t be human! She told
me I had to be a monster!”
Dante? This vision of a woman was Dante? The boy stared deep into the
woman’s gaze, “Dante?”
She smiled, and strayed her hand up his arm, to his chest. “I only
told the boy the truth, young Elric. Now, I need your help.” She
leaned close, her sickeningly sweet scent tickling his senses. “You
don’t remember, do you? You are special, Alphonse Elric. A
philosopher’s stone, made by the Ishballen. The power may be gone, but
your soul still bears its markings. You are the perfect vessel,
Alphonse Elric.”
Ishballen? Philosopher’s stone? Al swallowed, the information
completely new to him. Not even Edward’s note mentioned such things.
But then again, pages were missing, taken out by Teacher. He glanced
over to Wrath, who watched, agonized. The boy shook his head, pleading
Alphonse not to listen. “Perfect vessel?” Alphonse asked, shifting his
gaze back. “What do you mean?”
“Every body I have taken rejects me, Alphonse.” Dante informed. She
came to her feet and unfastened the back of her dress. Seductively,
she slipped her shoulder from the confines of her gown, and eased the
garment down around her chest reveling molten purple and fiery scarlet
flesh. She was decaying like a living corpse. Yet a sweet perfume
wafted off her form, reminding him of home. “You see every body is
made for its soul. And so, when one tries to seal a soul inside of a
body, that body will reject it. You my boy, are a very special case.
Your brother stole your body from the gate, but only after your soul
and the body it resided in were transformed into a Philosopher’s
stone.” She dropped her garments to the floor and Alphonse saw that
her torso was almost completely rotten and stank of decayed fruit.
“My brother gave my body back! I’m not this philosopher’s stone!” The
boy struggled, aware that the woman planned to do something to him,
something taboo, and unpleasant. He could see it in her gaze, she
wanted to take his body, that was why she spoke of rejecting souls.
Wrath had told him that much of Dante; she wanted immortality at the
expense of others.
Her naked body dropped down to him, fingers running though his hair.
“Oh no, Alphonse, your brother only used the stone to give you your
life. But what he didn’t realize was your soul had been permanently
changed. But you don’t recall any of this? What a pity. None the less,
once we are united, you’ll understand everything.”
“United?” Al gulped. He glanced to Wrath. The boy chewed on his lip,
dark eyes peering fearfully out from locks of dark hair. Something
about Dante terrified him. He was afraid of her summoning the gate.
Yes, that was certain. They both feared the gate, and Wrath had said
Dante could summon it. “How, how do you know you won’t rot my body
like yours is rotting now?”
“Because a philosopher’s stone contains souls, Alphonse. And with a
little creativity, I will be able to take your body, without removing
your soul. This way, there will be no rejection.” She pressed her
lips on to his. “How ironic, it is his son that will be my salvation.
You don’t want me to suffer, Alphonse?” She touched her dying flesh,
pain glinting in her gaze. “I need you to live. Don’t fight me, and we
shall share enough power to bring your brother back, from the hell he
locked himself into.” She fingered the IV. “Souls, Alphonse, you need
souls and power to bring him back. We can do it together.”
“Stop it! Take my body!” Wrath snapped. “I have no soul! You can live
right in here with me! Ok?” He twisted and jerked hair flopping all
over. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and dribbled on to the floor.
“Leave Alphonse alone!”
“Why?” Dante came to her feet, face forming sympathy as she crossed
over to the homunculus. “You won’t be losing anything,” She touched
the tiny porcelain face, and traced her fingers down to his chest. “You can’t ever have him, why is it you care for him so much?”
Tormented, Wrath jerked as if stung. “Al’s my friend.”
She was distracted. Al focused his attention up, to his bound wrists.
The shackles were steel and hard, he could feel them cutting into his
flesh. If he could just wiggle a little, he could draw enough blood to
sketch an array on the floor. Gritting his teeth, Al focused on
wrenching his wrist and pressing it into the cuff holding him.
“Your friend? He’s not your friend. You know he’ll leave you for him.
Once he finds that brother of his, you’ll never have him. You’re a
fool, he doesn’t care about you. You’re just a substitute for his
brother. Alphonse Elric is a spineless follower and will reject you
the instant his brother insists on it.” She leaned close to the cell
and gave the dark haired boy an impish smile.
Al tensed, his eyes blinking back tears. The depth of anguish in
Wrath’s eyes was beyond description. The homunculus shivered, and sagged against the wall, dark eyes wide like bottomless pools of
midnight. How could she be so cruel to the boy? He had fought so hard
to understand humanity and accept it, and now this woman was offering
to take it away with her lies and hatred.
Gritting his teeth, the boy twisted his hand once more and felt the
cold wet kiss of blood trickle down into his palm.
Al licked his lips. They needed to keep Dante distracted still.
“Wrath, she lies, you know that. I’d never abandon you! We’re friends. I…”
“And if Edward made you leave?” Wrath asked, voice trembling. “Than
what am I to you?”
Dante’s head tilted, her thin lips an expressionless line. She was
smug. “Yes, he can’t understand, can he, Wrath? You’re nothing to him.”
Cowering back the boy shook his head and struggled in a sob.
Dante didn’t seem to care. She was savoring his pain, drinking it in
like a fine wine. “Well, then think about it, my lonely thing.”
What was Wrath to him? Al stared, tears streaking his face. He pulled
in a distraught whimper, eyes closing against the pain. Wrath was more
than a companion. He cared deeply for the boy, realizing their time
together had been a journey for both of them to find themselves. “She
wants to hurt us.” Al said softly. Determined, he slicked his fingers
with blood and carefully started to draw. It was a clumsy and painful
process, but determination drove him. “But I won’t let her hurt me
Wrath, because I know you’re still with me, and that what we have
can’t be destroyed by her words. Do you understand? I know who I am
because of you. There is more to Alphonse Elric than his brother.
Remember the ugly duckling? You helped me to find the swan inside of
myself and I love you for it…”
Motionless, Wrath just stared, face obscured by his dark hair.
Picking up a bucket, Dante walked over to Al. The boy tensed, not sure
how far he had come along on his array. Wide eyed he turned his
focused on the woman as she knelt at his side. “I need to finish my
preparations. It will take some time, Wrath.” She placed the bucket
between Al’s legs and dipped a finger into the substance. Scarlet
dripped from its tip as she deliberately turned it, and let the drops
trickle into the bucket. She took caution not to lose any of the
translucent liquid “Why, Al, you look tragic. This won’t hurt at all.
In fact, I’ll make it so you like it.”
Alphonse closed his eyes against tears and attempted to ignore the
cold slick feeling of the finger tracing around his belly. “I don’t
care what you do to me. Let him go. Ok? I won’t fight if you let him
go, you can have my damned body, as long as Wrath is free…”
“How sweet, do you really believe that? You would give yourself for a
soulless doll? What about your brother, Al?” Dante cooed. Her finger
gracefully danced across his torso, looping and swirling red glaze
over his body. The cool tickling sensation tingled and goose pimpled
his flesh. Alphonse held in a moan, eyes rolling. The touch was
pleasant, and tantalizing, and a part of him craved the tactile contact.
“Please. Stop.” He asked, shifting and rocked his head to the side.
“He needs to be human, not a monster. You lied to him and if giving my
life gives him a chance to become more human, I’ll gladly do it.”
“Sentimental fool.” Dante said pushing hair from Alphonse’s face. The
boy held his breath, aware that only his fingers draped over his
drawing, and there was a good chance Dante would see the array. “He
can never be human. It is a lie to tell him he can be.” She chuckled
softly. Her fingers trickled down to Alphonse’s thigh and circled
ruins across his leg. Fighting his sluggishness, the boy squirmed. Her
gaze never left his, if he could only distracted her from his drawing,
they could have a chance. “You haven’t answered my question, have you
Alphonse Elric. Your brother… If you had to choose…”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Alphonse bit his lip. It was an effort to not
fall into the soft petal fingers delicately playing against his inner
thigh. “No, no, I would find another way.”
She was almost finished, yet she lingered, paying carefully attention
to the boy’s legs and groin. “But there is no other way, Alphonse. I
will give you Edward, once we are together, I will give you him, all
it will take is young Wrath as exchange.”
Dante lifted a brow, looking from boy to boy. She was enjoying
herself, watching and waiting for them to take her bait. She reminded
Alphonse of a cat, playing with two mice and it occurred to him, she
was making sure; there was enough doubt between him and Wrath, to
separate them, if she failed.
“I won’t let you.” Al whispered, as she came to a stand.
“It’s too late.” Dante purred, she carried the bucket across the room,
and placed it on to the desk.
Al craned his neck. A small pool of blood circled his hand and soaked
his fingers. But the array he was drawing was clear and unsmudged.
Quickly, with numb fingers he started to finish it.
“You really love me, Al?” Wrath’s voice piped. He blinked away tears,
licking his lips. “You can love something soulless?”
Just for a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossed Dante’s face. She
paused long enough for Al to finish drawing and hide the array with
his fingers. It was good timing, for Dante returned to his side and
removed the IV bag, and IV. She carefully bound Al’s other arm with
tape and gauze.
“You don’t need a soul to be loved, Wrath.” Al explained. “And I’m
sorry, I really am, it’s my fault this happened.”
“Enough.” Coming to her feet, Dante came to a stand and walked in
between the two boys. “It’s time to say your goodbyes.” Her hands
lifted, poised to come together.
With floor of calculations washing though his mind, Alphonse’s fingers
strayed to the bloody circle next to his fingers.
A clap split the air with static.
Just as the ground and walls around them buckled. The stone bonds
holding Al and Wrath shattered. And the array beneath Al twisted and
broke, just as there was an explosion of white hot energy. Dante’s
body glowed, and washed out into a form of colored light. At the same
time, Al felt his body sear as he scrambled out of the array, nimble
form avoiding the heaving ground around him.
With growing horror, he could feel something touching his thoughts, a
presence…
A wanting, craving filled him with undying desire to control, and to
survive,.
Was it her?
Gulping, Alphonse forced the thought away. His transmutation was to
shatter the circle before she started her transmutation. But the
entire room shook, and the floor rippled like an ocean of rolling
stone. Something had gone wrong. Frantic, Al looked around; Wrath had
fallen to the floor and was picking himself up. Wide-eyed terror
haunted his eyes. It reminded Al of the deer he had seen in the forest
and he half expected to see Wrath run for the door across the room.
Instead he crouched, frozen, big eyes focused on Al as Al twisted and
rolled with the quaking floor beneath him.
“Wrath, we have to get out of here!” He shouted. He stumbled over to
the child, and grabbed his hand, in an attempt to pull him toward the
door.
“No, no, it’s coming, its coming for me!” The boy shook his head, body
quivering. It -- he was referring to the gate. Bile mixed with fear churned Al’s stomach and he almost froze. He stood on the edge of a memory as it threatened to open up in front of him like the pages of a book. Yet he refused it, he didn’t need to remember, not now, when their lives were in danger.
Al forced the thoughts away. “And it is not taking you!” Al pulled the
boy’s hand, dragging him toward the door. Out of the corner of his
eye, he saw in the whirlwind of lightning and light, a black hole
opening up, and a great doorway just beyond. An eye looked out from
the door, blinking, all seeing, and focusing on him. Equivalent
exchange. It was looking for what it was owed. He hammered down his
own rising terror, knowing if he let it take him, he’d freeze. “Made a
promise, remember?”
Wide eyed, Wrath nodded, helplessly staring at the matrix of light and
color pulling at his limbs. Blackened tendrils snaked out, lashing at
the boys as they scrambled for the exit. They were almost there, when
Al found his own body, against his will, hesitating.
Her?
The tendrils whipped out, pawing toward Wrath in an attempt to seize
the terrified homunculus.
She it? Dante? She was in his mind, pleased, all was to her plan. It
needed Wrath so her body would have a new permanent home. To Al’s
horror, she took command of his hands to let Wrath go, and push the
boy toward the roving black hands stretching from the gate.
“Equivalent Exchange, Alphonse Elric.” The voice whispered.
“NO!” With an effort he took command of his body, hands locking around
Wrath as the boy stumbled backward into the awaiting fingers reaching
for him. With all his weight, Al swiveled around on his heel and
tossed the homunculus into the doorway. Off balance from the momentum,
Al lost his footing, and he fell into the reaching withering things behind him.
Alphonse screamed as the acidic clawing fingers pawed at his limbs and
attempted to draw him back toward the whirlpool of energy and light.
Back to the gate as exchange for Dante’s transmutation. No! The voice
in his mind screamed, she wanted his body, the homunculus had to be
the one given to the gate. Her anger slammed into Al’s thoughts, and
struggled to shove Al back into the black regions of his own brain.
But he fought, mind focusing on keeping her confined in one place.
Alphonse Elric cries became more frantic as he frantically tried to
wrench his arms free in an attempt to bring his hands together. “Run
Wrath, run!” He cried out. “Get out of here!”
Yet the dark haired homunculus made no move, he stood, hands
trembling, and tears streaming down his face. “No, Al, no!” He grabbed
the Elric boy, hands circling his waist and pulling.
Pawing digits crawled over Al and burrowed into his flesh as they
tried to drag his body and soul back to the gate. In front of him,
Wrath howled, arms tightening about him as the withering tentacles too
assaulted him. They were both going to die, Al thought frantically,
unless he did something…
Something…
Dante squirmed in his thoughts. She hated him for fighting her and
feeling compassion for the dark hair homunculus. Dante, always cold
and calculating her next move. Al felt her as she fought for control
of his body. She was older and knew Alchemy better than he. She has
also seen beyond the gate, and the truth that lie there. And she
wanted to use that against him. Yet, she had very little soul left,
and he was young and pure with full command over his alchemical power.
Gritting his teeth, the boy twisted, and focused his will on pulling
his arms from the things holding him. If he could just detach the part
of his soul that was Dante from him, and send her elsewhere….
With a force of will, he slammed his hands together, and focused on
taking the foreign soul inside of him, and shoving it into the
seething blackness threatening to engulf him.
There was a flash of blue light, and Al felt his mind fill with echoes
of anguish. The world blazed into a fiery storm of red hot agony.
*&*&*&*
Something cool touched his brow.
Slowly, Alphonse Elric exhaled, mind fighting the painful blackness.
His head pounded painfully, and his body ached. He wasn’t sure how
long he had been unconscious, just that it had been for some time, and
that he was fighting to force his mind to focus every step of the way.
What had happened? Nothing was clear; his thoughts swirled painfully,
mixing with fear and abstract images that pinwheeled into blazing
fits of anguish. Wrath? Hadn’t Wrath been with him? They were in
trouble, wasn’t that it…
He twitched, brow furrowing. Terror clung to his limbs, making him
tremble involuntarily. But the cool cloth soothing his brow made him
relax. With the ebb of time, he became aware he was laying on
something soft, blankets? And heard the trickle of water. The fragrant
sent of grass and sky filled his lungs, telling Alphonse he was safe,
and whatever danger he was in was gone.
A gentle voice spoke to him and he felt something touch his lips.
Cold, wet water trickled into his mouth, washing away the parchedness.
He curled his fingers around the cup and dragged in painful gulps.
“Hey, take it easy, human. Slow down.” The cup moved away for a
moment, then returned for him to finish it with slow careful sips.
“It’s all right, Al, it’s over.” It was a child’s voice, but not Edward’s.
“Wrath?” Al croaked, eyes cracking open. It was dark, he could see a
crackling fire and smell the soft sweet scent of burning birch.
The other boy’s face came into view. Wrath placed the cup on the
ground, and offered a warm smile. “How do you feel?”
“Awful.” Al looked around. He lay under a large oak tree, and the
starry black velvet night winked down at him.
“Better than being dead… Or worse.” Wrath looked away. He shakily came
to his feet and pressed his hands into the small of his back. “It just
let you go, do you remember?”
“I remember nothing.” Al replied, he tried to sit up, but his body
felt too heavy, so he sagged back to the blankets instead. “Only that
she was in my mind, and was trying to send you into the gate… So I
used it against her and…” Al felt a wash of discomfort. “I detached
her from my soul and sent her instead.”
“You killed her?”
Al gave a nervous nod. He didn’t like the idea. Killing anyone was
wrong, even if they were a monster. He rolled over on to his side and
hugged himself, feeling grief paw at him. “I had to.”
Wrath joined him on the blanket and turned him to face him. Those dark
violet eyes were alive with concern and a hint of pain. “I was such a
coward, I wanted to protect you, and all I did was be a scared child…
You shouldn’t have had to kill her. It should have been me. I was made
to kill things.”
“No!” Al snapped. He turned to face the homunculus and touched his
face. “No, you were not made to kill, and it’s ok to be frightened.
That gate, it’s scary, and you have human emotions. I’m glad I did
what I did. Because you’re not a monster. Teacher made you because of
love too, not just anger. You can be both.”
Wrath studied him with scrutiny and shrugged. He pulled on the tufts
of grass around the blanket and looked away. “Al, I don’t like being
afraid.”
“Neither do I.” Al replied. He took his friend’s hand and held his
pale fingers. It was strange, he felt warmer now. “But it is important
to feel fear, do you understand? It’s not bad. Really.”
Wrath’s hands trembled, and he pulled them away, and folded his arms
around himself. “It’s bad when you can’t help the person you love,
because you feel so scared you can’t move.”
“But you did, Wrath.” With an effort, Al sat up and wrapped an arm
about his friend. “You did come after me, you faced those things, and
tried to pull me away. If it wasn’t for you, I never would have had
the moment to send Dante into the gate. They would have taken me as
trade for the transmutation. You came for me, and I’ll never forget
it.” He leaned in, lips touching Wrath's in a gentle kiss.
Startled eyes flew open, and Wrath sat stiffly, staring at Al, than,
slowly, he wrapped his arms around the boy and returned the kiss.
After a long moment, the two of them settled on to the blanket,
Wrath’s head nestled on Al’s shoulder. They both looked at the stars,
and Al wondered what his friend was thinking. “You still love me,
after all that?” Wrath finally asked.
“Of course I do.” Al replied, smirking. He brushed tangled hair from
Wrath’s face and fondly traced his fingers down to the boy’s chin.
“You helped me find who I was, Wrath. You are very special to me.”
A strong silence fell between them and Wrath drew in a sigh. He took
Al’s hands and met the boy’s gaze. “I, I never thought, that I would
ever hear those words.” He said.
Starlight glinted off his eyes and Wrath held Al’s fingers close to
his lips. He kissed them affectionately. “I, I love you, too Al. Thank
you. Thank you for saying those words, and some day, together, no
matter what the cost, we’ll find your brother. Ok?”
Even though Wrath hated Edward, he was willing to help Al. Al caught
his breath, suddenly realizing the young Homunculus was starting to
understand. Being human was many things. It was pain, it was love, it
was selfishness and it was sacrifice. It just depended when, where and
who was feeling all those things. “Sure. If that is what you want.”
“It is.” Wrath reassured him.
Overhead the moon shown bright over the landscape, and both boys
settled down, holding each other and enjoying each other’s warmth. It
was good to be alive, Al thought, and most of all it was nice to have
someone at his side. Another human being always took away the nip from
the dark cold nights.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Warnings: Movie Spoilers, violence, Slash, implied molestation, angst
Rating: Pg-R
Type: Adventure, Angst, and Fluff
Pairing: Al/Wrath
Characters: Al, Wrath and Dante
Summery: Al and Wrath explore what it is to be human.
Chapter 2
The great pit opened up, screaming flashes of blue while lighting and
storm like winds, ripping though his very soul. Alphonse Elric cried,
hands straining out, reaching for the pale fingers stretching toward him.
Blackened tendrils tore into him, searing his flesh and eating away
muscle and skin. The boy howled, clawing at the things as they burrowed painfully into his limbs and dissolved his body. Slithering, the things wrapped about him, slipping under the fabric of his shorts searching for any entrance to his small form.
Alphonse Elric screamed…
And bolted up, panting horror stricken and he reached out for a
phantom hand, searching desperately for the face of his brother. The
great eye and withering tentacles of black leered down at him, causing
the boy to recoil, screams and whimpers exploding from his lips as he
shivered deeper against the placid form curled up near him. He gave a gasp as he dimly became aware of something turning him and shaking him.
“Al! Alphonse Elric! Idiot! It’s a dream!! Snap out of it!”
He felt himself jerk, the images of dark withering things fading from
his mind as he focused on a set of large violet eyes, and pale creased
lips. Fear, fear and concern filled those violet midnight pools as the
boy before him shook him out of his hysterical state. “It’s a dream,
it’s a dream! Can’t you hear me, damn it?”
The fear lingered, smoky wisps of terror caressing his shaking limbs.
Alphonse Elric blinked numbly at the boy before him.
Indeed, it wasn’t real, it was a dream. A dream so far away he
scarcely recalled what had terrified him so, only that he was panting,
and sweating as if he were running in a panicked state. “Wrath?” he
asked, lips unable to form the word coherently. He was violently
shivering and had to curl up into a ball to steady himself.
The homunculus looked at him, sympathy glinting in his relieved eyes.
He patted and stroked Al’s back until the shaking stopped. “You were
screaming.” He said voice barely a whisper. “It sounded like an animal
being gutted.”
Burying his face, Al nodded into his knees. Yes, he felt tired and
confused. “I had a bad dream.” He whispered, trying to peer though the
black voice hovering over his mind. What was it about? Did he want to
know? It caused fear he was certain he never wanted to feel again. “I
was dying I think.”
“Dying?” Wrath asked, cool fingers traced down Al’s face and lifted
his chin.
Alphonse swallowed. “I don’t know. I don’t remember it, I just know it
hurt, and it was scary. That’s all.”
Porcelain features wrinkled and Wrath drew in a breath, attention
shifting to the darkness beyond him. “I know that sound.” Wrath said,
his voice hitching with pain.
“What sound?" Al asked, the fear hadn’t settled, and he leaned into
Wrath’s side.
“You saw it, didn’t you?" Wrath looked down at him, an arm awkwardly
wrapping about him. “It’s scary, I know. It scares me too. I don’t
ever want to go back to it, either.”
It? Al watched the boy’s face in the silver rays of the moonlight.
Yes, yes, he was right, the fear was the same, whatever Wrath was
talking about frightened him the same way. “Fear for my soul, my body,
everything.” Al said, hand touching the marble face. “What is it called?”
“The gate.” Wrath informed with a shudder. “I don’t ever want to go
back there. It’s a cold dead place.”
The air was cool and bit into him, goose-pimpling Al’s exposed flesh.
He pulled his brother’s red coat around them, hoping whatever
lingering strength Edward’s soul could offer would chase the terror
and chill away. “Yes, it was a horrible place.” Al agreed, closing his
eyes.
He heard the crackle of the fire and felt the body next to him ease
him closer. “Very horrible. If you’ve been there, than you do
understand.” Wrath’s lips touched his ear and spoke so quietly,
Alphonse barely heard. “I’m not a part of it, Al. I don’t ever want to
be a part of it again, do you understand? I wish I had a soul, so
I could escape it… A soul like yours, one that shines and that is warm
all of the time…”
There was no envy or hatred in his voice; Wrath was just stating a
fact. He was frightened, and Al couldn’t blame him. This gate was a
terrible place. The human boy peeked up though long golden bangs,
wishing with all his heart he could help his friend. “To have a soul,
you have to be human.” Al whispered. Was it even possible to give a
Homunculus a soul? If it was, he could try and find it. He owed it to
the boy, Wrath was trying to be human. “And I promise, I’ll find a way
to, if there is one to help you, Wrath. I am an alchemist after all.”
The homunculus gave a weak smile, and curled up against him. “Thank
you Al, and I promise it will never get you again, ok? Is it a deal?”
“Equivalent Exchange.” Al let his eyes slipped closed once more and
fell back into a deep slumber.
*&*&*&*
“Why did we come here?” Al asked looking up at the large house looming
before them. It was a large white columned plantation, settled up on a
hill, surrounded by a grove of trees. The gardens around it were over
grown, and the lawn was a field of tall grasses and leafy weeds. The
place looked unattended to with its broken windows and wild
shrubbery, but it hadn’t been for long, because the paint and upkeep
of the building itself was still good.
“Because I needed to come here.” Wrath informed him, glancing at Al. He shifted uncomfortably, as if nervous, and his eyes were wide with
hollow fear. That long dark hair fell into his face, making his
features paler than usual. Ever since they started on this trip, Wrath
had been acting very worried.
“We don’t need to do this.” Alphonse told him, touching his shoulder.
The homunculus was now wearing shorts and a deep red T shirt. They had
been travelling for several months now, and Wrath had now taken to dressing like a human being, and seemed comfortable with it. “This place bothers you.”
“I know.” Wrath admitted. “But we both share memories here.” He
removed Al’s hands and walked slowly up the porch steps. “She lived
here. The Monster who claimed she’d give me what I wanted, and told me
I could never be human.”
“Dante?” Al followed dropping his suitcase near the foot of the steps,
next to Wrath’s now battered backpack. He looked up to the door,
feeling a knot in his stomach. He felt fear, along with a flood of
frustration. He had no memory of this place. It was a blank empty
hole. “I should remember her, after what you told me she did. But I
still see nothing.”
“Do you feel anything?” Wrath asked, his hand touched the door, and
slid to the door knob. “You should feel something. This is where
your brother killed Greed.”
The only thing he felt was a hint of terror and intense sadness, but
the feels were easily attributed to empathy to Wrath’s emotions.
Alphonse Elric shook his head. “You met her here?”
“I was here once.” Wrath informed. “This was the first place. She was
an old lady then. Other place…” He shivered. “I’ll never be ready to
go there.”
The other place was a city, under the ground. The place Al only
faintly recalled waking up in, with Rose at his side. “Someday, we
have to go there.” Al said, softly. “Don’t you think?”
Wrath shook his head, hand rattling the knob. “It hurts to think of
that place. The door is locked, should I break it?”
Shaking his head, Al, put his hands together, and touched the knob. He
made mental calculations. The arrays drawn on his gloves helped to
spark a reaction that crackled though the door and twisted and altered
the lock. “Try it now.”
The door popped open. A mixture of delight and hesitation crossed
Wrath’s porcelain face. “I will go first, and make sure it is safe.”
Wrath liked to protect him. Al folded his arms, aware if he argued the
point, he’d lose. Every since the night of the dream, Wrath had taken
on the mantle of protector, even though in many ways Al was just as
capable of protecting him as well. In the end, it made Wrath feel
good, if not useful. “If you insist.”
“I insist.” Wrath smiled and slipped inside.
Leaning up against the door frame, Al peered into the gloom. The room
was dark, and it appeared all the windows had been covered with
canvas. He could smell a distinct sweetness mixed with the dry dusty
stale air of a room that had been closed off without fresh air for
some days.
The boy squinted, he could vaguely see Wrath in the inky dark. The
homunculus was a mere lithe shadow darting about the room, searching
out every nook and cranny for any signs of trouble.
Al sighed, shaking his head, sometimes the dark haired boy reminded
him too much of Edward. They were very much alike in many ways. It
was no wonder why they didn’t get along.
A pained retching drew his attention back to the room. The boy
frowned. Wrath had stopped short of a curved stair well. The
homunculus fell to the marble floor, on to his hands and knees, arms
snaking around his gut.
Homunculi never got ill. The hairs on the back of Al’s neck stood on
end. Apprehensively he stepped into the darkness, looking around at
the dark shapes around him. The room was octagonal, with domed ceiling
and two arched entrance ways leading to rooms beyond the foyer. A
stiarwail spiraled up to the right, and he could see a door next to it.
Certain there was no one to be seen, Al stepped carefully toward his
friend. The boy was kneeling in a blackened marble pattern fixed into
the floor. It was a circle with whirling forms in the center.
Agonized, Wrath shuttered, pink and red globs of goop spilling out of
his mouth.
Alchemy. Chill filled Al as he paused before the circle. He had to
work fast.” It’s all right, Wrath. I’ll just break the circle. “ Al
informed gently. “This was probably here before, all I need to do is
Alter the array.”
Glazed eyes focused on his, and Wrath shook his head looking up though
long tangled black silk. “Get out of here Al, go! It’s dangerous!” He
gave a pained cry, than convulsed violently. Al squinted, suddenly
becoming aware the red goop he was vomiting was stones.
“I’m not leaving you!” Al snapped, putting his hands together.
The dark haired boy struggled to his feet, horror filling his violet
eyes. “No Al! Behind you!”
The words were barely out of Wrath’s mouth when something seized
Alphonse from behind. There was a sharp stinging pain that plunged a
cold burning into his veins. Instinctively, the boy clawed at the
hands holding him in a vein attempt to wretch free, but the room
around him tilted, drunkenly, and Al swooned into the arms holding him.
“What a good boy.” A woman’s voice cooed in his ears. “Such a sweet
thing, isn’t he, Wrath? Aren’t I fortunate his brother worked so hard
to get him his body back…”
Fingers seemed to float up his body as the arms holding him shifted,
and lifted him up. Al felt his lids droop as blackness edged his
vision. He could barely see Wrath across from him. The dark haired
homunculus snarled and strained against the invisible binds of the
array sealing him. “Let him go you bitch! He’s the only good thing I
have! Let him go! PLEASE!”
A cold tinkling laugh seared Al with shivers of numb terror before
blackness stole his senses.
*&*&*&*&*
“He really is just lovely, isn’t he?” Under the veil of dark dreams,
Alphonse’s mind floundered for consciousness. “Wrath, you are fond of
him. I can see it in your eyes. Do you wish to have him? I can give
you that, and so much more….”
Something rough touched his cheek, and traced down his face to his
throat and down to his chest. Fingers tickled a nipple, sending his
mind into a frenzied panic. Lips, touched his ear, and breathed. “So
much potential to work with. Just a few adjustments, his body will
indeed be perfect.”
Alphonse Elric moaned. His head ached, and his stomach churned as he
rolled his head. It was an effort to crack open his eyes.
Consciousness threatened to fade with the flood of flickering candle light, forcing the boy to retreat into the darkness behind his lids.
He felt heavy; yet, one thing was clear to him, his friend was in
danger, trapped in a sealing array.
“Wrath?” His thick tongue flopped around in his mouth, clumsily
slurring his words as he spoke.
“You do look so much like your father.” The voice continued. The rough
hand closed about his face and turned it. “Pretty as you are now, I
strongly suspect that will change. Even the pretty boys grow up. But I
can’t be picky can I?”
“Please, please let him go…” Wrath’s pained words trickled into the
dim haze of his clouded mind.
The sound of the dark haired boy’s voice forced Al to open his eyes
once more. Slowly he took stock of his surroundings.
He was in a stone room, a cellar, with gas lamps on the brick walls
and concrete floors. He noticed barrels stacked in rows against the
back wall, and two clear vats of red liquid. The liquid was clear, and
had a faint glow to it. It had bubbles that didn’t seem to move
telling him it was a viscous and unfamiliar fluid.
A desk with shelves of books stood near the vats, and Al noticed his
clothing and notebook sitting on the chair. Other books and papers
were spread over the desk.
A door was adjacent to the desk, but other than that, the room was
bare, and hauntingly dark with fleeting shadows that crawled across
the floor with the flicker of the lamps.
He was lying on the floor, nude, legs spread eagled, chained by the
ankles to the cold hard floor. His right arm was stretched out over
his head, locked down by a shackle around the wrist. His other hand
lay limply at his side. He was feeling horridly weak, and it was
difficult to move his head and almost impossible to lift his arm.
Overhead were the red etchings of an array, as was beneath his body. It was a lyrical etching, with broad swirls and a design he didn’t
recognize. Not even the strange rune like writing in the middle was
familiar.
Fighting down the serge of panic, Alphonse shuddered a breath. His
chained arm was cold and his fingers numb. He could feel a sharp pain
in his wrist and the sensation of something dangling against his arm.
The boy focused on a bag of red liquid hanging from a pole standing
next to his body. It was an IV, and he suspected it was the source of
his drowsiness.
A pale woman with short dark hair in a delicately laced golden gown
straddled him. She was leaning, one hand on the floor, and the other
holding his chin. Her face was so close to his, he could feel her
breath tickling his cheeks.
She smiled thinly, pale doll-like features splitting into a sweet but
sensual smile. She was pretty, her dark hair cropped at a severe angle, like an Egyptian goddess. Yet something sinister lurked behind her alluring gaze. She looked at him as if she wanted him, or wanted
something from him. “Why Wrath, my dear, he is awake.”
“I’m sorry, Al! Really I am, can you forgive me?” Wrath’s voice was
weak and child like.
With an effort, Al turned his gaze toward the boy’s voice. He was
hanging against the wall, wrists bound by the cement itself. Like Al,
he was stripped, small body pale against the cold gray stone. He was
the center piece of the red transmutation circle. Wrath struggled like a wild animal against the bonds, large violet eyes glinting with a
mixture of terror and rage.
“Of course I forgive you.” It agonized him to see the homunculus so
frightened and weakened. It made Al’s gut tighten with anger. He
stamped down the nausea and exhaustion gripping his limbs and tried to
lift his free hand.
The woman laughed fingers curling about Al’s hand. She brought his
fingers to her lips and kissed them. “I wouldn’t try anything naughty,
young Alphonse. You don’t want to damage your body do you? It would be
rather rude, since we will both living there soon enough.”
“Damage?” Groggily, Al squinted, fogged brain fighting to understand
what she was implying. “I don’t…”
“Of course you don’t, Alphonse.” Gently, the woman laid his wrist into
a shackle built into the array design around him. “Would you like to
know? I see the curiosity in your eyes. Yes, you are a kind hearted
soul that would never allow anyone to suffer, aren’t you Alphonse?”
“Don’t listen to her Al!” Wrath yanked at the bonds. His lips trembled
as he started at the young alchemist. Long black hair dangled into his
face, its shaggy tresses veiling one of his eyes completely. “This is
the monster who lied to me! She told me I couldn’t be human! She told
me I had to be a monster!”
Dante? This vision of a woman was Dante? The boy stared deep into the
woman’s gaze, “Dante?”
She smiled, and strayed her hand up his arm, to his chest. “I only
told the boy the truth, young Elric. Now, I need your help.” She
leaned close, her sickeningly sweet scent tickling his senses. “You
don’t remember, do you? You are special, Alphonse Elric. A
philosopher’s stone, made by the Ishballen. The power may be gone, but
your soul still bears its markings. You are the perfect vessel,
Alphonse Elric.”
Ishballen? Philosopher’s stone? Al swallowed, the information
completely new to him. Not even Edward’s note mentioned such things.
But then again, pages were missing, taken out by Teacher. He glanced
over to Wrath, who watched, agonized. The boy shook his head, pleading
Alphonse not to listen. “Perfect vessel?” Alphonse asked, shifting his
gaze back. “What do you mean?”
“Every body I have taken rejects me, Alphonse.” Dante informed. She
came to her feet and unfastened the back of her dress. Seductively,
she slipped her shoulder from the confines of her gown, and eased the
garment down around her chest reveling molten purple and fiery scarlet
flesh. She was decaying like a living corpse. Yet a sweet perfume
wafted off her form, reminding him of home. “You see every body is
made for its soul. And so, when one tries to seal a soul inside of a
body, that body will reject it. You my boy, are a very special case.
Your brother stole your body from the gate, but only after your soul
and the body it resided in were transformed into a Philosopher’s
stone.” She dropped her garments to the floor and Alphonse saw that
her torso was almost completely rotten and stank of decayed fruit.
“My brother gave my body back! I’m not this philosopher’s stone!” The
boy struggled, aware that the woman planned to do something to him,
something taboo, and unpleasant. He could see it in her gaze, she
wanted to take his body, that was why she spoke of rejecting souls.
Wrath had told him that much of Dante; she wanted immortality at the
expense of others.
Her naked body dropped down to him, fingers running though his hair.
“Oh no, Alphonse, your brother only used the stone to give you your
life. But what he didn’t realize was your soul had been permanently
changed. But you don’t recall any of this? What a pity. None the less,
once we are united, you’ll understand everything.”
“United?” Al gulped. He glanced to Wrath. The boy chewed on his lip,
dark eyes peering fearfully out from locks of dark hair. Something
about Dante terrified him. He was afraid of her summoning the gate.
Yes, that was certain. They both feared the gate, and Wrath had said
Dante could summon it. “How, how do you know you won’t rot my body
like yours is rotting now?”
“Because a philosopher’s stone contains souls, Alphonse. And with a
little creativity, I will be able to take your body, without removing
your soul. This way, there will be no rejection.” She pressed her
lips on to his. “How ironic, it is his son that will be my salvation.
You don’t want me to suffer, Alphonse?” She touched her dying flesh,
pain glinting in her gaze. “I need you to live. Don’t fight me, and we
shall share enough power to bring your brother back, from the hell he
locked himself into.” She fingered the IV. “Souls, Alphonse, you need
souls and power to bring him back. We can do it together.”
“Stop it! Take my body!” Wrath snapped. “I have no soul! You can live
right in here with me! Ok?” He twisted and jerked hair flopping all
over. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and dribbled on to the floor.
“Leave Alphonse alone!”
“Why?” Dante came to her feet, face forming sympathy as she crossed
over to the homunculus. “You won’t be losing anything,” She touched
the tiny porcelain face, and traced her fingers down to his chest. “You can’t ever have him, why is it you care for him so much?”
Tormented, Wrath jerked as if stung. “Al’s my friend.”
She was distracted. Al focused his attention up, to his bound wrists.
The shackles were steel and hard, he could feel them cutting into his
flesh. If he could just wiggle a little, he could draw enough blood to
sketch an array on the floor. Gritting his teeth, Al focused on
wrenching his wrist and pressing it into the cuff holding him.
“Your friend? He’s not your friend. You know he’ll leave you for him.
Once he finds that brother of his, you’ll never have him. You’re a
fool, he doesn’t care about you. You’re just a substitute for his
brother. Alphonse Elric is a spineless follower and will reject you
the instant his brother insists on it.” She leaned close to the cell
and gave the dark haired boy an impish smile.
Al tensed, his eyes blinking back tears. The depth of anguish in
Wrath’s eyes was beyond description. The homunculus shivered, and sagged against the wall, dark eyes wide like bottomless pools of
midnight. How could she be so cruel to the boy? He had fought so hard
to understand humanity and accept it, and now this woman was offering
to take it away with her lies and hatred.
Gritting his teeth, the boy twisted his hand once more and felt the
cold wet kiss of blood trickle down into his palm.
Al licked his lips. They needed to keep Dante distracted still.
“Wrath, she lies, you know that. I’d never abandon you! We’re friends. I…”
“And if Edward made you leave?” Wrath asked, voice trembling. “Than
what am I to you?”
Dante’s head tilted, her thin lips an expressionless line. She was
smug. “Yes, he can’t understand, can he, Wrath? You’re nothing to him.”
Cowering back the boy shook his head and struggled in a sob.
Dante didn’t seem to care. She was savoring his pain, drinking it in
like a fine wine. “Well, then think about it, my lonely thing.”
What was Wrath to him? Al stared, tears streaking his face. He pulled
in a distraught whimper, eyes closing against the pain. Wrath was more
than a companion. He cared deeply for the boy, realizing their time
together had been a journey for both of them to find themselves. “She
wants to hurt us.” Al said softly. Determined, he slicked his fingers
with blood and carefully started to draw. It was a clumsy and painful
process, but determination drove him. “But I won’t let her hurt me
Wrath, because I know you’re still with me, and that what we have
can’t be destroyed by her words. Do you understand? I know who I am
because of you. There is more to Alphonse Elric than his brother.
Remember the ugly duckling? You helped me to find the swan inside of
myself and I love you for it…”
Motionless, Wrath just stared, face obscured by his dark hair.
Picking up a bucket, Dante walked over to Al. The boy tensed, not sure
how far he had come along on his array. Wide eyed he turned his
focused on the woman as she knelt at his side. “I need to finish my
preparations. It will take some time, Wrath.” She placed the bucket
between Al’s legs and dipped a finger into the substance. Scarlet
dripped from its tip as she deliberately turned it, and let the drops
trickle into the bucket. She took caution not to lose any of the
translucent liquid “Why, Al, you look tragic. This won’t hurt at all.
In fact, I’ll make it so you like it.”
Alphonse closed his eyes against tears and attempted to ignore the
cold slick feeling of the finger tracing around his belly. “I don’t
care what you do to me. Let him go. Ok? I won’t fight if you let him
go, you can have my damned body, as long as Wrath is free…”
“How sweet, do you really believe that? You would give yourself for a
soulless doll? What about your brother, Al?” Dante cooed. Her finger
gracefully danced across his torso, looping and swirling red glaze
over his body. The cool tickling sensation tingled and goose pimpled
his flesh. Alphonse held in a moan, eyes rolling. The touch was
pleasant, and tantalizing, and a part of him craved the tactile contact.
“Please. Stop.” He asked, shifting and rocked his head to the side.
“He needs to be human, not a monster. You lied to him and if giving my
life gives him a chance to become more human, I’ll gladly do it.”
“Sentimental fool.” Dante said pushing hair from Alphonse’s face. The
boy held his breath, aware that only his fingers draped over his
drawing, and there was a good chance Dante would see the array. “He
can never be human. It is a lie to tell him he can be.” She chuckled
softly. Her fingers trickled down to Alphonse’s thigh and circled
ruins across his leg. Fighting his sluggishness, the boy squirmed. Her
gaze never left his, if he could only distracted her from his drawing,
they could have a chance. “You haven’t answered my question, have you
Alphonse Elric. Your brother… If you had to choose…”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Alphonse bit his lip. It was an effort to not
fall into the soft petal fingers delicately playing against his inner
thigh. “No, no, I would find another way.”
She was almost finished, yet she lingered, paying carefully attention
to the boy’s legs and groin. “But there is no other way, Alphonse. I
will give you Edward, once we are together, I will give you him, all
it will take is young Wrath as exchange.”
Dante lifted a brow, looking from boy to boy. She was enjoying
herself, watching and waiting for them to take her bait. She reminded
Alphonse of a cat, playing with two mice and it occurred to him, she
was making sure; there was enough doubt between him and Wrath, to
separate them, if she failed.
“I won’t let you.” Al whispered, as she came to a stand.
“It’s too late.” Dante purred, she carried the bucket across the room,
and placed it on to the desk.
Al craned his neck. A small pool of blood circled his hand and soaked
his fingers. But the array he was drawing was clear and unsmudged.
Quickly, with numb fingers he started to finish it.
“You really love me, Al?” Wrath’s voice piped. He blinked away tears,
licking his lips. “You can love something soulless?”
Just for a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossed Dante’s face. She
paused long enough for Al to finish drawing and hide the array with
his fingers. It was good timing, for Dante returned to his side and
removed the IV bag, and IV. She carefully bound Al’s other arm with
tape and gauze.
“You don’t need a soul to be loved, Wrath.” Al explained. “And I’m
sorry, I really am, it’s my fault this happened.”
“Enough.” Coming to her feet, Dante came to a stand and walked in
between the two boys. “It’s time to say your goodbyes.” Her hands
lifted, poised to come together.
With floor of calculations washing though his mind, Alphonse’s fingers
strayed to the bloody circle next to his fingers.
A clap split the air with static.
Just as the ground and walls around them buckled. The stone bonds
holding Al and Wrath shattered. And the array beneath Al twisted and
broke, just as there was an explosion of white hot energy. Dante’s
body glowed, and washed out into a form of colored light. At the same
time, Al felt his body sear as he scrambled out of the array, nimble
form avoiding the heaving ground around him.
With growing horror, he could feel something touching his thoughts, a
presence…
A wanting, craving filled him with undying desire to control, and to
survive,.
Was it her?
Gulping, Alphonse forced the thought away. His transmutation was to
shatter the circle before she started her transmutation. But the
entire room shook, and the floor rippled like an ocean of rolling
stone. Something had gone wrong. Frantic, Al looked around; Wrath had
fallen to the floor and was picking himself up. Wide-eyed terror
haunted his eyes. It reminded Al of the deer he had seen in the forest
and he half expected to see Wrath run for the door across the room.
Instead he crouched, frozen, big eyes focused on Al as Al twisted and
rolled with the quaking floor beneath him.
“Wrath, we have to get out of here!” He shouted. He stumbled over to
the child, and grabbed his hand, in an attempt to pull him toward the
door.
“No, no, it’s coming, its coming for me!” The boy shook his head, body
quivering. It -- he was referring to the gate. Bile mixed with fear churned Al’s stomach and he almost froze. He stood on the edge of a memory as it threatened to open up in front of him like the pages of a book. Yet he refused it, he didn’t need to remember, not now, when their lives were in danger.
Al forced the thoughts away. “And it is not taking you!” Al pulled the
boy’s hand, dragging him toward the door. Out of the corner of his
eye, he saw in the whirlwind of lightning and light, a black hole
opening up, and a great doorway just beyond. An eye looked out from
the door, blinking, all seeing, and focusing on him. Equivalent
exchange. It was looking for what it was owed. He hammered down his
own rising terror, knowing if he let it take him, he’d freeze. “Made a
promise, remember?”
Wide eyed, Wrath nodded, helplessly staring at the matrix of light and
color pulling at his limbs. Blackened tendrils snaked out, lashing at
the boys as they scrambled for the exit. They were almost there, when
Al found his own body, against his will, hesitating.
Her?
The tendrils whipped out, pawing toward Wrath in an attempt to seize
the terrified homunculus.
She it? Dante? She was in his mind, pleased, all was to her plan. It
needed Wrath so her body would have a new permanent home. To Al’s
horror, she took command of his hands to let Wrath go, and push the
boy toward the roving black hands stretching from the gate.
“Equivalent Exchange, Alphonse Elric.” The voice whispered.
“NO!” With an effort he took command of his body, hands locking around
Wrath as the boy stumbled backward into the awaiting fingers reaching
for him. With all his weight, Al swiveled around on his heel and
tossed the homunculus into the doorway. Off balance from the momentum,
Al lost his footing, and he fell into the reaching withering things behind him.
Alphonse screamed as the acidic clawing fingers pawed at his limbs and
attempted to draw him back toward the whirlpool of energy and light.
Back to the gate as exchange for Dante’s transmutation. No! The voice
in his mind screamed, she wanted his body, the homunculus had to be
the one given to the gate. Her anger slammed into Al’s thoughts, and
struggled to shove Al back into the black regions of his own brain.
But he fought, mind focusing on keeping her confined in one place.
Alphonse Elric cries became more frantic as he frantically tried to
wrench his arms free in an attempt to bring his hands together. “Run
Wrath, run!” He cried out. “Get out of here!”
Yet the dark haired homunculus made no move, he stood, hands
trembling, and tears streaming down his face. “No, Al, no!” He grabbed
the Elric boy, hands circling his waist and pulling.
Pawing digits crawled over Al and burrowed into his flesh as they
tried to drag his body and soul back to the gate. In front of him,
Wrath howled, arms tightening about him as the withering tentacles too
assaulted him. They were both going to die, Al thought frantically,
unless he did something…
Something…
Dante squirmed in his thoughts. She hated him for fighting her and
feeling compassion for the dark hair homunculus. Dante, always cold
and calculating her next move. Al felt her as she fought for control
of his body. She was older and knew Alchemy better than he. She has
also seen beyond the gate, and the truth that lie there. And she
wanted to use that against him. Yet, she had very little soul left,
and he was young and pure with full command over his alchemical power.
Gritting his teeth, the boy twisted, and focused his will on pulling
his arms from the things holding him. If he could just detach the part
of his soul that was Dante from him, and send her elsewhere….
With a force of will, he slammed his hands together, and focused on
taking the foreign soul inside of him, and shoving it into the
seething blackness threatening to engulf him.
There was a flash of blue light, and Al felt his mind fill with echoes
of anguish. The world blazed into a fiery storm of red hot agony.
*&*&*&*
Something cool touched his brow.
Slowly, Alphonse Elric exhaled, mind fighting the painful blackness.
His head pounded painfully, and his body ached. He wasn’t sure how
long he had been unconscious, just that it had been for some time, and
that he was fighting to force his mind to focus every step of the way.
What had happened? Nothing was clear; his thoughts swirled painfully,
mixing with fear and abstract images that pinwheeled into blazing
fits of anguish. Wrath? Hadn’t Wrath been with him? They were in
trouble, wasn’t that it…
He twitched, brow furrowing. Terror clung to his limbs, making him
tremble involuntarily. But the cool cloth soothing his brow made him
relax. With the ebb of time, he became aware he was laying on
something soft, blankets? And heard the trickle of water. The fragrant
sent of grass and sky filled his lungs, telling Alphonse he was safe,
and whatever danger he was in was gone.
A gentle voice spoke to him and he felt something touch his lips.
Cold, wet water trickled into his mouth, washing away the parchedness.
He curled his fingers around the cup and dragged in painful gulps.
“Hey, take it easy, human. Slow down.” The cup moved away for a
moment, then returned for him to finish it with slow careful sips.
“It’s all right, Al, it’s over.” It was a child’s voice, but not Edward’s.
“Wrath?” Al croaked, eyes cracking open. It was dark, he could see a
crackling fire and smell the soft sweet scent of burning birch.
The other boy’s face came into view. Wrath placed the cup on the
ground, and offered a warm smile. “How do you feel?”
“Awful.” Al looked around. He lay under a large oak tree, and the
starry black velvet night winked down at him.
“Better than being dead… Or worse.” Wrath looked away. He shakily came
to his feet and pressed his hands into the small of his back. “It just
let you go, do you remember?”
“I remember nothing.” Al replied, he tried to sit up, but his body
felt too heavy, so he sagged back to the blankets instead. “Only that
she was in my mind, and was trying to send you into the gate… So I
used it against her and…” Al felt a wash of discomfort. “I detached
her from my soul and sent her instead.”
“You killed her?”
Al gave a nervous nod. He didn’t like the idea. Killing anyone was
wrong, even if they were a monster. He rolled over on to his side and
hugged himself, feeling grief paw at him. “I had to.”
Wrath joined him on the blanket and turned him to face him. Those dark
violet eyes were alive with concern and a hint of pain. “I was such a
coward, I wanted to protect you, and all I did was be a scared child…
You shouldn’t have had to kill her. It should have been me. I was made
to kill things.”
“No!” Al snapped. He turned to face the homunculus and touched his
face. “No, you were not made to kill, and it’s ok to be frightened.
That gate, it’s scary, and you have human emotions. I’m glad I did
what I did. Because you’re not a monster. Teacher made you because of
love too, not just anger. You can be both.”
Wrath studied him with scrutiny and shrugged. He pulled on the tufts
of grass around the blanket and looked away. “Al, I don’t like being
afraid.”
“Neither do I.” Al replied. He took his friend’s hand and held his
pale fingers. It was strange, he felt warmer now. “But it is important
to feel fear, do you understand? It’s not bad. Really.”
Wrath’s hands trembled, and he pulled them away, and folded his arms
around himself. “It’s bad when you can’t help the person you love,
because you feel so scared you can’t move.”
“But you did, Wrath.” With an effort, Al sat up and wrapped an arm
about his friend. “You did come after me, you faced those things, and
tried to pull me away. If it wasn’t for you, I never would have had
the moment to send Dante into the gate. They would have taken me as
trade for the transmutation. You came for me, and I’ll never forget
it.” He leaned in, lips touching Wrath's in a gentle kiss.
Startled eyes flew open, and Wrath sat stiffly, staring at Al, than,
slowly, he wrapped his arms around the boy and returned the kiss.
After a long moment, the two of them settled on to the blanket,
Wrath’s head nestled on Al’s shoulder. They both looked at the stars,
and Al wondered what his friend was thinking. “You still love me,
after all that?” Wrath finally asked.
“Of course I do.” Al replied, smirking. He brushed tangled hair from
Wrath’s face and fondly traced his fingers down to the boy’s chin.
“You helped me find who I was, Wrath. You are very special to me.”
A strong silence fell between them and Wrath drew in a sigh. He took
Al’s hands and met the boy’s gaze. “I, I never thought, that I would
ever hear those words.” He said.
Starlight glinted off his eyes and Wrath held Al’s fingers close to
his lips. He kissed them affectionately. “I, I love you, too Al. Thank
you. Thank you for saying those words, and some day, together, no
matter what the cost, we’ll find your brother. Ok?”
Even though Wrath hated Edward, he was willing to help Al. Al caught
his breath, suddenly realizing the young Homunculus was starting to
understand. Being human was many things. It was pain, it was love, it
was selfishness and it was sacrifice. It just depended when, where and
who was feeling all those things. “Sure. If that is what you want.”
“It is.” Wrath reassured him.
Overhead the moon shown bright over the landscape, and both boys
settled down, holding each other and enjoying each other’s warmth. It
was good to be alive, Al thought, and most of all it was nice to have
someone at his side. Another human being always took away the nip from
the dark cold nights.