(Untitled)

[scientificity]

Who: Edward Elric and anyone who wants to endure his raging hunger/grumpiness.
Where First floor.
When: This morning?
Rating: Probably gonna be at least PG-13 for Ed's nasty mouth.
Summary: Ed wakes up and guilt trips himself (AKA nothing new).

Comments

[lapispanacea]

Alphonse was still groggy; he leaned heavily against the wall, and wasn't entirely sure that the slithering sound that hissed through the shadows at the edges of his vision was real or not.

"Hello?" he called. "Is anyone there?" His own voice answered him, faint and distant, and then the halls were silent again.

The last thing he could remember was the transmutation circle.

I must be dead, he thought. But he could still think and feel and needed to breathe. Maybe this was the other side of the Gate.

It didn't look anything like his dreams, and the twisting hallways made his head ache.

Whoever had decorated, he thought with vague distaste, needed to get their eyes checked.

His mouth was dry. There were doors, here and there, and he moved to each one, trying them. They were locked, for the most part, but some opened up into strange rooms -- none of them with a water tap.

Staring into a room full of oddly-colored chess pieces, each the size of a small horse, he began to wonder if he wasn't hallucinating. It was possible -- the

[scientificity]

A new voice, calling, with a vague familiarity to the sound. Ed gripped his skull. The hunger headache had become a pounding and he wanted to throw up. Fear made him queasy. The fear that he'd never come upon a familiar face ever again

[lapispanacea]

Alphonse halted at the noise; he could smell the pervasive, acrid scent of ozone, both abrasive and familiar. Alchemy? It could be. It could be.

"Hello?" he called again, too winded to put much effort behind it. Too much time in the laboratory, not enough time practicing his forms. The hallways seemed to go on forever, to double back on themselves and twist in circles. But the sound had come from that direction, so he broke into a run again.

Alphonse turned one corner, then another, then another, and slid to a halt before he collided with the drab figure standing in his path.

He recovered his composure, then promptly lost it again, gaping. It couldn't --

"Brother?"

[scientificity]

Well. That was unexpected, to say the LEAST

[lapispanacea]

Alfons? That wasn't his name. It was similar enough, but the inflection was all wrong. Guttural, low, harsh, clipped.

Alphonse took a step forward, hesitant, puzzled. Was this his Ed? Was this some -- some cruel trick?

"Is that you, brother? Who is Alfons?"

Ed looked worn, faded around the fringes, and much, much older.

Alphonse inhaled sharply -- he remembered what Ed looked like, in those last days. Did that mean --

He remembered.

It took great effort to keep him from swaying, from falling to his knees. He had thought only of the lab, only of his work, of finding Ed.

The Gate. He must be through the Gate, he thought. It must have given him back the memories it had stolen, because he could remember watching Ed grow and change. Distant and foggy, like he'd had the memories all along. Not at all out of place. Not at all unusual.

But hollow. Oh, he'd been so hollow. So lonely.

"Brother -- it's me," he said, surprised at the plaintive sorrow in his voice. He took a step forward, hands held out. One step, two, three, and closed

[scientificity]

Edward's laughter became stronger, scarier. He could even smell the faintness of Rizembool flowers and sweetness of freshly made cream Al's breath. How far was this going to go, his impending insanity? Until he was a dribbling mess of drooling and weeping and rage?

No. He had a mission.

"Alfons. You don't have to do that kind of thing. How do you even know Al sounds like that, anyway?"

How DID Alfons know (and manage to perfectly imitate) his brother's voice? Usually once Alfons spoke, Ed would snap back to reality at the startling difference in sounds.

Ed turned back to the person clinging to him, grabbed his face in both hands, and stared hard. The eyes still hadn't changed. They were still a beautiful liquid amber---

Ed punched himself. With the automail, in the head. If focusing didn't wake him up, a good beating would.

No change. Still Al's scent and eyes and hair and voice...

Ed's body shook, and a rather pitiful sound left his lips.

"A--Al...?"

[lapispanacea]

He stood perfectly still while Ed inspected him, trying hard not to breathe.

Alphonse grabbed Ed's arm, giving a wordless cry. "Stop that! Stop! It's me."

Gripping Ed by the automail arm -- and Alphonse remembered that everyone but he and Winry had shied away from the metal appendage, had shuffled to his more human side -- he tugged Ed back into an awkward, crushing hug, squeezing as tightly as his arms would allow. Squeezing so hard his arms hurt.

"It's me. Don't worry. You're not -- it's real. It's real, it's real and -- oh, brother, even if it's not for long, it's still me. You're alive."

Doubt wiggled its way down Alphonse's spine, but he shoved it away, frightened of what it might mean if this was all just a dream. It didn't matter. This was real.

[scientificity]

Edward reached out, and HELD. Held onto Al (the real Al, while he still could). It took every ounce of strength in his body to prevent the automail arm from bruising Al's ribcage, but his flesh arm was clutching at Al's coat like it was his last tie to life. And maybe, it was.

His fingers tangled in strands of hair at the base of Al's head. His hair was long, and Alfons' had been short. Another chuckle.

"Your hair is nice like this...Al." A little freakishly like his own, but it was his brother, after all. What a weird comment to make, he thought, upon the first meeting in two years, and the first time he'd been able to REALLY touch Al in...forever, it felt like.

His head leaned forward, pressing into Alphonse's hair, skull, cheek, pressing roughly, as if trying to suck his brother right into his body through osmosis. At least that way, they'd never separate again.

"Taller, too." Taller than he was. It was awkward. They'd lost so much time together.

"I'm going to make it up," he announced softly, finishing his own thoughts.

[lapispanacea]

He hadn't touched Ed since he was ten years old. It had been nearly a decade. The sheer impact of the relief he felt was staggering, and he didn't entirely trust himself to stand without clinging to Ed, so he didn't move, didn't want to move.

Alphonse hadn't noticed that he was taller than Ed until Ed pointed it out. He pressed his cheek against the crown of Ed's head and inhaled. The angle was awkward and painful and wonderful.

"Make it up?" Alphonse asked, a little dazed, into Ed's hair. He would have suspected shock, if he hadn't felt so giddy. He caught on to what Ed was saying -- it was old habit. Comforting, to know what he could still puzzle out what Ed was thinking without too much difficulty. "We'll both make it up. I missed you."

[scientificity]

It would look so awkward to anyone passing by if they found two similar looking males flopped and clinging desperately to each other on a hard marblesque floor, barely seeming to move or breathe. Ed didn't care, but his stomach screamed for nourishment and he took as long as possible to stand.

"I sure know how to ruin a moment, huh?"

He wanted to ask why...why this was happening, but just in case he did only have this one day with Alphonse, this one anomalous day, it should be spent doing something enjoyable for them both.

Edward grinned, broad and cheekily, his smile sparkling. "Missed you too." He touched Al's face, and he could feel the warmth spreading through his arm, down into the depths of his abdomen.

"Let's...let's go somewhere. Anywhere. And...eat."

[lapispanacea]

Alphonse nodded dumbly; he refused to move too far away from Ed, lest his brother vanish into thin air. He kept one hand on Ed's arm, the rough fabric of his shirt snared between Alphonse's long fingers.

Ed was always thinking with his stomach. Alphonse regarded him with fond irritation, his face lighting up in answer to Ed's brilliant grin.

It wasn't a terrible idea.

"Ah, brother? Where is here?"

[scientificity]

Ed shrugged. "I dunno. Let's figure it out later."

Possible danger? Who cared! Ed was alive and could use alchemy and Alphonse was alive and HUMAN and could also use alchemy. Highly unlikely that anyone could be a match for one of them at full power, nevermind them both (though Ed hadn't practiced in two years, Alphonse was sure to have improved considerably, which would balance the odds out).

"This place IS pretty big though, and looks almost like a laboratory." He gestured to a wall unit. "There are these electrical things on the walls...things I've never seen before, either in Amestris or in Munich." Pause. "On the other side, I mean." He poked at one. Nothing happened. "No clue what they do."

[lapispanacea]

"I didn't see any of these back in that direction," he said, and made a motion behind them, where he'd stumbled from.

He watched Ed fiddle with the panel, then gently suggested, "Maybe we shouldn't touch them."

Alphonse leaned his shoulder against his brother's arm. He was still sleepy, and his head felt all fuzzy.

"Is that where you were? Munich?" He tested the name several times until he got the pronunciation correct. Then, brow furrowing, he asked, "Who is Alfons?"

[scientificity]

"Yeah. The city was called Munich. Entirely different world system, back there. Having to learn basic things like calendar dates all over again was more annoying than looking at the Colonel's ugly face."

Ed was curious about the new piece of technology, and continued to poke at the screen and press buttons on the...button...panel...thing. An irate HONK came from the thing and Ed jumped back, fists up and ready to obliterate it. Hm. It wasn't attacking, so...poke...poke...pokepoke.

"Oh uh. He's..." Ed coughed his words into his collar.

[lapispanacea]

Alphonse tugged Ed away from the panel, maneuvering him gently. As amusing as it was to watch his brother, if this was a person's home (a particularly demented person, Alphonse thought, to think up such a backwards, confusing floor plan), he didn't want to be caught breaking things.

"I'm sure you managed. Food, remember?" They had both always been fairly quick studies.

"He's what?" Alphonse asked. Ed looked uncomfortable. And then, more gently, "Was he your friend?"

Alphonse wasn't slow -- Ed had called him by this other man's name. Had mistaken him for Alfons.

NOOO U BE TAKIN MAH PRETTY SHINY TECHNOLOGY!

[scientificity]

Ed false-started again and coughed harder, sounding as if he was almost choking...or as if his coughs were as fake as they come.

"You know I really need some water. My throat is so parched I can hardly talk. We should really get that food. And maybe some bourbon. Not the shitty kind of bourbon, either. Rich guy in this kind of house should have a liquor cabinet somewhere."

Edward wouldn't get SMASHED, but liquor was just to warm both of them, a little bit, over a nice meaty dinner.

"I thought I heard voices earlier, but I haven't seen anyone 'sides you, yet." As he took broader steps, he realized his leg was banging on something, and reached into his pocket, pulling out what seemed to be a mini version of the wall panel.

"Huh..." Poke. Poke. Poke. Nothing happened. No lights or beeps. Ed poked at it harder. "Some weird stuff in this place..."