Prompt 238, Hypnotic, Singed Nerves

Sep 24, 2013 22:38

Title: Singed Nerves
Author: queenkerosene
Series: Brotherhood
Word Count: 1,474
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ed, Al, Roy
Summary: Ed wakes up on a rooftop covered in blood, no feeling his left arm, and doesn't know how he got there.
Warnings: Some references to violence



“Fullmetal.”

Ed starts at the sound of the name, one he hasn't heard in months now. He blinks several times and finds himself staring at Roy and Alphonse. Roy is standing just a little in front of Alphonse, body angled as if he's trying to keep him from getting any closer. The set of his shoulders is tight, fingers poised close together as if he might snap at any moment. Al's eyes are wide and it looks as if he's having a difficult time simply not tearing past Roy.

Huh, Ed thinks. Al is supposed to be out of the country.

He blinks again and looks over his shoulder. The wind catches his hair and whips it back into his face as he stares out across the landscape of Central.

He doesn't know what he's doing in the city.

The last memory he has is of Resembool and getting into bed beside Winry. It's dusk in Central, the sky smudged a different color than when he had last seen it. When he glances down, there's a ring of soldiers around the building, all looking up at him. But it's only Al and Roy on roof with him. His mind stutters as it struggles to put together the pieces of what's happening - he's missed something vital -

“Brother,” Al says, his tone beseeching. Ed looks back at him as he shifts slightly past Roy. His approach is slow and wary as if he isn't certain of how Ed is going to react.

Ed's immediate instinct is to reassure Al that everything is okay - even though he has no idea what's happening. Before he can say anything, he catches a glance of his arms. They're both soaked to the elbow in blood that hasn't started to dry yet. He raises them to eye level, palms facing him. It's only as he begins to move does he have the horrifying realization that he has no feeling in his left arm, from shoulder to fingertips. He forgets to breathe; he can't feel anything from where his automail arm had been. The thought ricochets dangerously around his head.

Ignoring the blood, he grips his right hand roughly with his left. The blood is slick, and his fingers slide across his skin, but he still can't feel anything in the one arm.

“Brother?” Al asks, and there's more alarm in his voice this time. Ed jerks, unable to help the motion. He drags his eyes away from his hands and back to Al.

“Alphonse,” Ed says in response, and he tries to smile, because above all else, it's still his job to make sure things are okay for Al. The expression feels strange on his face though. Roy relaxes visibly from behind the pair of them as Al takes one of his hands, ignoring the blood, and gently leads him away from the lip of the roof.

Panic swells inside of Ed again as Al touches him and no nerve endings respond. He obediently steps forward, but can't help but stare at their hands. Once he's away from the edge, Roy steps forward as well.

“Do you remember anything?” Roy asks.

“No,” Ed answers immediately. He glances between the two of them, suspecting they know more about whatever's happened than he does.

“Inside, perhaps, Brigadier-General,” Al says in the way he does whenever he wants it to sound like a request, but it's more akin to an order.

Roy nods without saying anything further and shifts out of their way, but remains close. Ed follows after Al, who guides him inside. The instant they enter, they're surrounded by almost all sides by Roy's soldiers. Al keeps walking without letting any of them stop him, although he can tell they're all on edge - at the sight of him. Al finds an empty room for them and immediately presses Ed down into a seat.

“Are you hurt?” Al asks, looking at his hands more closely.

“What's going on?” Ed asks, practically exploding with questions. It's too much for him to have sit here, surrounded by soldiers, and merely put up with an examination. He needs to know what's happened. “How the hell did I get here? Why are you here?” He falters for only a second before pressing onward. “Whose blood is this?”

He knows it isn't his. Besides the persistent lack of feeling in his arm, he's uninjured. Al's motions slow.

“You know about the Hypnotic Alchemist, brother?” Al asks. Roy hovers in the doorway and even though he's not directly a part of the conversation, Ed can sense his attention focus in on the two of them.

“Yes,” Ed answers automatically. He's heard plenty about this Hypnotic Alchemist - someone's been working through the rounds of State Alchemists, using alchemy to hypnotize them. They've gone missing for days only to resurface with no memory of where they'd been, usually suffering the repercussions of some kind of alchemical experiment. Yet, everything had happened in Central and while Ed has followed the case, he hadn't worried about it; he hadn't thought that it would touch him. As soon as he answers Al though, the pieces start to fall into place. Obviously, he's been the next victim of this Hypnotic Alchemist - but why is the question. He still can't perform alchemy. What could she have possibly had him do - that ended with him covered in blood and an arm that can't feel?

He looks up at Al and sees understanding in his face. Al doesn't explain anything more because he knows Ed is putting everything together.

“What did I do?” Ed asks, infusing his voice with more strength than he feels.

“We should go downstairs,” Roy says from his post near the door. Al's expression changes almost instantly, becoming more guarded. The changes in his brother are always so subtle that they're almost nonexistence, but Ed knows what to look for. And he knows to be afraid of this expression; Al thinks going downstairs is a bad idea and that's why Ed knows it's the only option he has now. He pushes himself to his feet and follows Roy down the stairs. Al tails him like a shadow.

The soldiers grow thinner here, and Ed suspects it's because Mustang only wants those he can trust most here. The signs of alchemy are evident across the room, a veritable map to the center. Ed approaches with his hands fisted, back straight, because there's no way he's going to show that he's afraid or whatever this room is about to reveal.

In the middle is a large array - eerily similar to one he knows far too well. His blood runs cold just at the sight of it. Spattered across the array is the remains of a woman. It's a gruesome sight and only a lifetime of gruesome sights steels Ed against it. She's split nearly in half, ribcage protruding messily from underneath her skin. Her head is bent all the way back so Ed can only see the bottom of her chin, and each of her limbs is wrenched into a strange configuration. It's difficult to even tell precisely which injury killed her. He clenches his jaw as he wonders if he did this. He can practically feel Al hovering nearby, a worried presence. Ed looks at him.

“She tried to use you to open the gate,” Al explains, words still cautiously selected.

“I can't perform alchemy,” Ed interrupts, stating the obvious.

“I know, but it worked,” Al answers. “I saw it … or, at least, I saw something happen. There was an alchemical reaction and then there was a powerful rebound. It tore her apart.”

Ed stares at the remains of the woman, and strains to remember what Al is telling him.

“She tried to use you to open the gate,” Roy repeats Al's words and Ed chances a glimpse at him. “Did she succeed?”

“I don't know,” Ed answers testily. “Does it matter now?” he asks, throwing one hand out to gesture at the scene in front of them. “The Hypnotic Alchemist isn't here anymore, I've still got all my limbs, we're all in good shape right?”

Ed turns away from the both of them, intending to find some place to clean up. He knows the matter isn't that simple, and he knows that neither Mustang nor Alphonse will let him get away with such a dismissal. Yet, as he starts to walk toward the exit, sensation begins to pool in his fingertips again, nerves singing with sensation. He lets out a heavy breath, aware it's a constant reminder that there's nothing in his life he's ever been able to take for granted.

prompt 238, queenkerosene

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