FMA Fic - “The World Beyond The Sand”

[eltea]

Title: The World Beyond the Sand
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Prompt: Here
Wordcount: 9557
Genre: Adventure
Rating/Warnings: T
Summary: Living in a strange world, Al still wonders if there’s a way for him and his brother to get back to theirs. There might be in the mountains, at one of the other four laboratories, but only if they can reach it and find their own answers before whatever wants them tracks them down. Legendary creatures, enchantments that kill, and a secret road that lights the way - but not all the familiar faces are friendly. Back on the road together, though, even this gray world is full of color, and everything feels a little bit like home.
Author’s Notes: For tierfal - I meant this to be a short adventure fic, which I should have known myself well enough to realize was a contradictory statement. I think the wordcount tells the rest of the story. XD Hope you enjoy!! :D ♥

-
It all starts when someone is rude enough to blow up their house.

Well, technically, Alphonse supposes it started when Ed crossed over into this world and began foiling evil plots and making enemies, as he is wont to do, or maybe when they tried to resurrect their mother and first began their give-and-take game of trying to sacrifice themselves for each other, if you want to go even farther back.

However, as he stands outside the smoldering remains of their house, wide-eyed and frozen from a combination of shock and relief that Ed wasn’t home, he’s less concerned about how it started and more concerned about the fact that their house is blown up.

“Meow?” his basket of groceries asks curiously, and he glances down to see the tiny black kitten he found hungry and homeless in the marketplace looking back up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells it. “I meant to talk Brother into letting us keep you, but it looks as though we’re in the same boat now. Who would have done this?”

As it turns out, asking is a bad idea.

“Hey, there he is!” one of the armed men who have just come around the pile of rubble shouts. “One of the boys who killed Chairman Eckhart and destroyed the laboratory! I told you this was where they were hiding!”

Ah. So that’s who they are.

Al decides that now is a good time to run.

“Sorry!” he tells the kitten frantically, flipping the lid of the basket closed and latching it as he dashes around a corner, gunshots echoing behind him and the half-dozen men in hot pursuit. The poor thing’s going to have a bit of a bumpy ride, but right now, Al would really like not to die. Especially not like this.

Unfortunately, the men behind him don’t seem to be getting tired any faster than he is, and he’s having to constantly duck around corners to avoid letting them get a clear shot. Before he knows it, he’s led them in a giant circle and back to the remains of the house.

Looking back over his shoulder, he almost misses the soldier who’s still standing by the ruins taking aim at him. All he has time to do is throw himself sideways, and he hits the ground painfully, tumbling over and over down the steeply sloped street before he lands with a dazed thump and an angry yowl from inside his basket. When he manages to sit up, head spinning, all seven soldiers are advancing with their guns pointed at him.

Footsteps sound behind him, and he almost hopes it’s another soldier, because he really doesn’t want Ed to have gotten home early only to die with him.

It’s neither. It’s a woman, with dark hair, white gloves, and a small mole on her cheek.

“Lieutenant Ross?” Al demands incredulously, and as the soldiers aim their guns, the woman claps her hands together, dashes in front of Al, and extends her palms towards them.

Seven bullets crackle into angry bursts of energy against a buzzing, translucent shield that surrounds Al and its creator like a bubble, then expands outward rapidly to knock all seven soldiers to the ground simultaneously.

There’s a moment of silence as Al simply stares, eyes enormous, looking from the seven unconscious soldiers to the woman, who has dropped to her knees, panting. It takes her a moment to get to her feet, her legs looking slightly shaky, but when she does, she offers Al a warm smile and a white-gloved hand. He’s not surprised to see a transmutation circle on the palm.

“I’m glad I could get here in time,” she says. “I’m Marie Roche, the head of North Lab. You’re the boy who crashed an airship into the lab here and killed Eckhart, aren’t you?”

“Um,” says Al faintly, taking her hand and getting to his feet. Guiltily, he opens the basket and checks on the kitten, who looks dazed but unharmed, before glancing back up at the woman. “That’s not exactly how it happened. Did you say you came from another lab?”

Lieutenant Ross - er, Ms. Roche - nods. “In Belgium. The lab here in Germany was East Lab. There are three others, as well: one in France, one in northern Italy, and a central one in Switzerland. They were originally all created to cooperate, but as time went by, they withdrew from each other and became entirely separate entities. East Lab’s descent into corruption and wrongdoing has been worrying us for quite a while, and if there’s anything I can do to thank you, please let me know. When we heard the news, I came down here to make sure you were safe.”

“I think you’ve already thanked me enough by saving my life,” Al admits. “I would like to know, though, if you don’t mind - how do you work alchemy? That’s what you were doing, isn’t it?”

“Well, perhaps, though we don’t call it that,” Ms. Roche says. “We call it magic, and we call ourselves witches, not alchemists.”

“Would a man be a wizard, then?” Al asks, interested. Ms. Roche shakes her head.

“Men who work magic are called witches, too. A wizard is something different. Witches use circular arrays and special gloves to draw power from the natural world, but a wizard gains his or her abilities from a bond with a powerful magical creature. The only one I know of runs the lab in Switzerland - he shares a bond with a sphinx, so his codename is Ozymandias.”

“You don’t say,” Al muses, interested. “So these gloves you use - what makes them special? I’ve studied magic, too, but I’m only familiar with the circles.”

“They’re made of a special blend of materials,” Ms. Roche says. “You apply pressure by clapping or snapping, and it lets you tap into the surrounding power and shape it with the circle. I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly how they’re made, though, because only Central Lab has the formula.”

“That’s the one in Switzerland, right?” Al asks, already thinking. “And you said that’s where the really powerful alchemist - er, wizard - who doesn’t need the gloves and circles is, right?”

“Yes,” says Ms. Roche. “That’s right. Are you thinking of paying him a visit?”

Al nods. When he crossed over to this world, he accepted that he might never see his own again - and his conviction about his choice has never wavered, because home is where Brother is, and it’s as simple as that. He misses their world, and if the two of them could go back, he knows they would, but opening the Gateway again is out of the question.

But maybe… maybe it’s like when they went searching for a way to restore their bodies. He still remembers that night, bleak with despair, when they discovered the secret of making the philosopher’s stone and, for the first time, stopped believing that they would ever get their bodies back. Al still remembers the sick feeling of watching his brother give up, has never forgotten the relief and hope as Lieutenant Ross convinced them to consider the possibility that there was another way. Now, standing next to another version of the same woman, he starts to wonder - is there another way to do this, too? Their house, symbol of another surrender to the impossible - (This place will have to be home, now, Al. I’m sorry.) - lies in ruins behind him, and he feels a thrill of the same hope he did that night.

Besides, there’s something even more important, something he was even more reluctant to give up on…

“Years ago, I made a promise to someone,” Al says determinedly. “I didn’t think it would be possible to keep it, not in this world. But I should never have given up. I’m going to see this powerful alchemist, and maybe he’ll have some idea on how we can get back to our world - but one way or another, I’m going to get Brother his arm and leg back like I promised.”

“You sound pretty resolved,” Ms. Roche says, and that smile is achingly familiar. “I’ll show you how to find the Central Lab, then. You’ll have to start at East Lab; that’s where I left my research assistant when we got into town.” She glances towards the ruins. “Anything you need from here?”

Al shakes his head. The only thing he cared about in this house was Brother, who’s safe in a library across the city today. Everything else, he’s ready to leave behind. And now, they have somewhere else to go.

He doesn’t remember where in the city the lab is - has only been there once, that day he crashed through the Gateway with nothing but a few disconnected dreams of the other side, and not really caring what he found as long as he was with Ed.

He was terrified, then - because Brother was different, older, not the bright and burning child he’d been at eleven, but something more subdued. He was just as luminous, but without the same warmth, and he was going out of his way to avoid touching Al.

Al spent the ride through the Gateway terrified that he was chasing a stranger.

Then his memories came back, and he remembered that Brother was an idiot. Of course he’d been planning to come back alone to close the Gateway, and of course he thought keeping his distance would make it hurt less for everyone.

In the end, later that day and outside the beer hall where he was about to be introduced to German food, it was Al who got tired of waiting and gave Ed the biggest hug of his life, and it was Ed who clung to him and cried and whispered that Al should have stayed, should be back home right now, and a good older brother would want that but he was a bad one because he was so glad Al was here.

And Al hugged him back fiercely and called him and idiot and wondered when, when he would realize that Al loved Amestris, but that after all their years of wandering and all the years of searching for him, home was wherever they were together.

Ed’s gotten better since then, has stopped looking at Al with expressions of mingled gratitude and guilt, but still, the lab building brings back bad memories, and Al shivers, hoping it won’t take long.

“Sciezka?” Ms. Roche calls as they enter, and Al’s eyes widen. “Are you here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” says another bright and familiar voice, and a mousy girl with glasses pops into view, extending her cupped hand to Ms. Roche. “Look what I found! D’you think it’s important?”

“That’s a-” Al gasps, spotting the flash of a red stone in her palm, and Sciezka jumps, seeming to notice him for the first time.

“Oh! Who are you?”

“He’s with me,” Ms. Roche says, then turns to Al. “It sounds like you recognize this thing.”

“I don’t know how it got here,” Al says, searching for an explanation. He knows their father and Envy were both here; maybe one of them brought it from Amestris? Or maybe Eckhart, obsessed as she was with travel between worlds, got ahold of it somehow.

“Well, why don’t you take it with you to the Central Lab?” she asks him. “Maybe they can help you figure that out.”

“If you’re sure it’s all right,” Al says hesitantly, and accepts the stone from Sciezka, whose eyes have just lit up.

“You’re going to the lab in Switzerland?” she demands excitedly. “The one with the biggest collection of books on magic in the entire world? Oh, please, Ms. Roche, you have to let me go with him!”

“That’s his decision,” Ms. Roche says, raising an amused eyebrow and looking to Al. “I was already thinking about sending someone with you. One of my officers is waiting at the train station. If you’re willing to accept the help, you can tell him he has orders to accompany you.”

“We could use all the help we can get,” Al says with a smile and a little laugh. Some of his habits returned with his memories, and he can’t break the one of making his expressions audible. “Sciezka, you’re welcome to come too, if it’s all right with Ms. Roche. I’m sure Brother wouldn’t mind, if visiting Central Lab is that important to you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Sciezka tells him, her eyes starry, and Al grins.

“So how do we find the lab?” he asks Ms. Roche. “Can you give us directions?”

She shakes her head. “It’s simpler than that. When the five labs were built, a kind of magical guide was added between them. Come here.” When he obeys, she claps her hands together, then sets them on his shoulders and leans down to kiss his forehead. Al feels an alchemical reaction flow through him, and when she releases him, he’s a little dizzy. “There. Come outside and I’ll show you.”

Before following, Al takes a moment to slip the stone into his boot - there’s a hole in the lining that makes a perfect little pocket for it. Even if he has to take his boots off, it’ll be safe there.

When he straightens up and follows the two women out the laboratory’s west exit, what he sees makes him gasp. Starting from the building and stretching off into the distance, he can see a literal pathway, a kind of golden glow snaking along the ground beneath their feet.

“This is the Golden Trail,” Ms. Roche tells him. “It connects the five labs, so now that I’ve given you the ability to see it, all you have to do is follow it to Central Lab in Switzerland.”

“Thank you so much,” Al says earnestly, and hugs her on impulse. She hugs him back, and then Sciezka too, and waves them off before disappearing back into the lab to finish studying it.

“Ms. Roche is a great boss,” Sciezka tells him as they start off. “I’m already homesick for North Lab. But I have to see the one in Switzerland! I know I’m scatterbrained and silly, but I want to learn more about magic and be a scholar.”

“I don’t think you’re silly,” Al says warmly. “And we’ll go right to the lab - we just have to take a detour to find my brother. He’s at the library.”

Fortunately for them, the golden pathway they’re following swings fairly close by Ed’s favorite library, so it doesn’t turn out to be much of a detour. When Al sticks his head into the physics section, sure enough, he sees his brother hunched over a table with a pile of books and breathes one more sigh of relief that he’s safe.

“Brother,” he says softly, and Ed looks up in surprise, smiling hesitantly upon seeing him.

“Hey, Al. What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be at home.” Al doesn’t say anything or even change his expression, he doesn’t think, but somehow, Ed knows, because his eyes widen and he’s on his feet. “Did something happen?”

“Sort of,” Al admits, not knowing why his voice has chosen now to start shaking. He has lots of other memories of having guns pointed at him, but none of those are accompanied by fear, because they’re all from when he was in the armor.

Mismatched arms go around him in a tight hug, jarring the basket slightly, and it’s a mark of how concerned Ed is that he doesn’t even bother to scold when there’s an annoyed meow from inside it. Al buries his face in Ed’s shoulder, the soft flesh one, and takes a moment to just breathe.

“Some guys left over from Eckhart’s lab blew up our house,” he finally says quietly, and the arms around him tighten.

“Are you okay?” Ed demands. “Who do I have to kill?”

“Ms. Roche already took care of them,” Al says. “Ed, I - I have a lot to tell you. We should probably sit down.”

“Why don’t I go ahead to the train station?” Sciezka suggests, and Ed jumps a little, seeming to notice her for the first time. “I can meet up with the man Ms. Roche told you about and explain things, and you two can catch up and then come find us.”

“Thanks, Sciezka,” Al says gratefully. “That’s a good idea. Brother, have you eaten lunch yet?”

He should have known the answer would be no - Ed never remembers to eat while he’s working - so the two of them promise to meet Sciezka at the train station and then go find a little sandwich shop with a quiet table in the back where they can talk. Over their sandwiches, Al tells Ed everything.

Unsurprisingly, Ed interrupts him repeatedly: first to rage against the men who tried to shoot Al and to protest not being allowed to go back and kill them, then in shock when Al tells him about the alchemy the people here call magic and the labs, and once more to demand details on this wizard and his apparently unique brand of magic without a circle. Al is just about to mention the stone hidden in his boot, which he’d almost forgotten, when Ed frowns at him thoughtfully and nudges a knee against his under the table.

“You’d really like to get back to Amestris, wouldn’t you?”

“Not without you, Brother,” Al says. “I do miss it, but if we’re stuck here, at least we’re stuck here together, and I can have a happy life. I know this man in Switzerland might not know anything about traveling between worlds, but I want to see him anyway, because what if he does know something about how to get your limbs back?”

“They’re not that important,” Ed says uncertainly, but Al knows it’s a lie and knows that his brother hates the clumsy prosthetics he has to wear in this world, so much less elegant than automail.

“It’s important to me, Brother.”

“Well, you being happy is important to me. If you think there’s a chance this guy could help us get home without opening the Gateway, let’s go talk to him. Sciezka wants to study there anyway, right?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Then let’s go get her and head for Switzerland,” Ed says definitively.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the train station, especially since the golden trail now visible to Al leads straight there, and when they arrive, they find Sciezka waiting for them with a large man in tow. When he catches sight of who she’s waving at, he follows suit, sparkling cheerfully.

“I don’t believe it,” Ed breathes, and Al can hear a grin in his brother’s voice and feel one on his own face.

“Pleased to meet you, Elric brothers,” the man rumbles, clapping each of them on the shoulder with a large hand. “Alexandre Louis Archambault, at your service.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Al says delightedly. “You really don’t have to help us unless you’re sure you want to, though. Switzerland is a long way from here.”

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I allowed you to walk into danger alone,” Mr. Archambault says, shaking his head. “Never again will I turn my back on my duty.”

“You didn’t before,” Sciezka tells him. “The war was terrible. Nobody blames you for what happened.”

Mr. Archambault looks mournful. “I blame myself. My cowardice was inexcusable. Only an act of great courage will convince the world and myself that I am worthy of calling myself a member of the Archambault family.”

“Well, you look pretty brave to me,” Ed says.

“Yeah, and we’d love your help,” Al adds eagerly.

Mr. Archambault considers. “In that case, consider me a member of your party. I will do everything in my power to make sure you arrive safely at your destination.”

“I’m sure we will,” Al says, feeling optimistic. “And then you and Sciezka can both get what you want, and my brother and I can find out if there’s a way of getting his limbs back or going back home.”

“Meow!” says the kitten happily, from where it’s perched in his now-open basket of groceries. It’s been smugly content ever since lunch, when he fed it extra scraps of chicken from his sandwich and Ed reluctantly scratched behind its ears.

“Well, what are we waiting around here for?” Ed says.

Their first step on the journey to Switzerland is boarding a train, and none of them know exactly where the lab is, so they just buy tickets all the way across the country.

Rail travel is comfortable and familiar, and Al realizes that it’s the first time he’s been on a train with Ed in three years. They sit close, shoulders pressed together, and even in a world that isn’t their own, things feel right again. When everyone gets hungry, he opens his grocery basket, and they talk and laugh over an impromptu dinner.

When they reach the town of Meiringen, underneath the mountains, the golden pathway diverges from the rail line. It’s glowing softly in the darkness, and Al can see it snaking through the town and all the way up into the mountains.

They disembark, but it’s too late to start the hike that night, so they find an inn whose wooden sign is painted with bright, cheerful red flowers. There’s only one room free, but they all manage to squeeze into it. Sciezka insists that she’d rather take the couch in order to stay up and read by the light coming through the window, so Ed and Al set their things down by one of the beds, and Mr. Archambault puts his by the other, making woeful remarks about feeling unchivalrous. Once he finally gives in, though, he’s asleep within minutes, and Al smiles and toes his boots off, curling up the bed and making sure there’s room for the kitten on the pillow.

“Brother?” he mumbles, already feeling sleepy. “Are you coming to bed?”

“In a little while,” Ed says, and his explanation is lost as Al slips away into dreams.

He dreams that he’s in a field of ruby flowers and emerald grass, wind spinning around him, his hair over his shoulder in a braid like Brother always used to wear. The field hangs out over the side of an impossibly tall mountain, a tilting spire of fairytale angles like a long, crooked finger. When Al looks over the edge, he sees down dizzying miles to a gray plain painted with shades of sepia, hears the wind howl and feels fingers clutching at his clothing. He tries to find the horizon but can’t; the dusty floor of the plain curves up and up, fading into glass, and then as he watches a face appears behind it, filling the entire sky. There’s something wrong with it, something he can’t place while its enormous eyes are level with him and watching him, and then it smiles, and he almost knows - but then his entire world shakes violently, and he flies off the side of the mountain, not falling but caught in a swirling blizzard, and he realizes that he’s in a snow globe, and something terrible is looking in. The cold should be waking him up but it’s not, he’s getting sleepier, and he wonders what will happen if he falls asleep in a dream, if he’ll die, but everything’s slipping away and he closes his eyes…

“Alphonse!” Ed screams, and Al wakes like he’s been drugged, a fight through heavy, sticky exhaustion that clings to him as Ed shakes his shoulders. There’s no need to be that rough, but he’s so tired that maybe he’ll just close his eyes-

Ed slaps him, and the shock pulls him back and forces him awake again. His brother has never hit him like that, doesn’t even like to spar since Al got his body back, and he realizes immediately how bad whatever’s wrong must be. He barely remembers anything.

“What happened?” he asks groggily as Ed helps him sit, face tight with worry.

“That fucking inn,” Ed growls, and Al notices for the first time that they’re outside in the street. “If I hadn’t noticed the transmutation circle on the pillow - I don’t know what the fuck they do with their guests, but I’m going back and burning the whole damn place to the ground.”

“What about the others?” Al asks, suddenly panicked.

“Safe,” Ed promises. “We managed to drag Archambault out with you and bring him around. Your kitten, too. But you wouldn’t wake up.” His eyes are still wide, with that blank look of terror he gets, and Al hugs him, breathing in slowly and trying to clear his head.

“It has been taken care of,” says Mr. Archambault’s voice, sounding unusually grim, and both brothers look up to see Sciezka and the tall man watching them. “They won’t be ensnaring any more travelers.”

“You should have let me deal with it,” Ed growls. “What the hell were they doing, anyway? And what about those pillowcases; were they made of that special material your boss told Al about?”

Sciezka shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I see Ms. Roche wearing her gloves almost every day, and they seemed to be a similar fabric, but maybe a slightly different blend of materials.”

“Given their effects, we thought it safest to dispose of them,” Mr. Archambault says.

“Better safe than sorry,” Al agrees, letting Ed help him to his feet. The cool night air is starting to wake him up fully, and he’s relieved to notice his basket on the ground nearby and the kitten settled inside and cleaning its fur contentedly. “So where are we going to sleep tonight?”

“We’re not,” says Ed in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “You’re not going back to sleep until I’m sure you’re okay, and definitely not in this town. We’ll collect ourselves and then start for the lab.”

The idea of hiking up into the mountains in the middle of the night is less than appealing, but nobody complains, and half an hour later, they’re following the golden trail up a path that’s starting to get steeper. The effect is strange: the trail itself glows brilliantly but sheds no light, the pathway they’re on and the rocks and trees around it lit by nothing but dim blue moonlight. With the streak of gold searing through his vision, Al’s eyes can’t adjust to the darkness, and Ed keeps a protective hand on his arm as they walk.

The hike doesn’t look like it should be that long, but the trail winds and zigzags with the path, then eventually leaves it altogether and winds through the mountains, taking hidden routes that Al is sure he would otherwise have overlooked. By the time they reach a building sprawled over one of the higher parts of the mountain and painted a dark green that lets it blend in with the trees, the sky has just begun to lift from black to deep blue, and everything is soft gray in the light of the hour before dawn.

Al knocks on the large wooden door, and a panel slides open, just like a speakeasy in one of the American gangster films he and Ed like to watch. Most of the face behind it is obscured, but the small, round, bottle-green spectacles are enough to jolt Al’s mind in recognition. He knows by the sharp breath at his side that Ed’s noticed it, too.

“Gr- I mean, g-good morning,” he says. “Marie Roche sent us. We’re here to see the alchemist - I mean, magician - wizard - man who works here,” he finishes lamely.

When all he gets in response are a raised eyebrow and the panel sliding shut, he sighs and starts trying to figure out how else to get in, but the door opens before he can speak and Greed - whoever he is, but to Al he’s Greed - smirks at them.

“Come on in. I’ll let the professor know you’re here.”

“Do you think we’re going to get to meet his sphinx?” Ed asks in an excited whisper as they follow Greed down the hallway.

“Probably,” Al says. “Ms. Roche said his bond with it is what lets him do magic, so they probably wouldn’t want to be too far apart. I just hope he can help us.”

“Only one way to find out,” says Ed.

They reach the end of the hallway, and Greed sticks his head through one of the doorways. “Hey, Professor! Visitors!” He pauses for a moment, then turns and gestures them through. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Al says politely, having trouble getting used to the idea of any version of Greed working for someone else. He supposes it’s not any stranger than what Ed told him about Fuhrer Bradley’s double.

When they enter, two figures are standing on the opposite side of the room: a man, and a creature unlike any Al has ever seen. It has a face that’s catlike but intelligent and feminine, a graceful lion’s body, and beautiful gold-feathered wings. Al barely even notices the man next to it, registering only that he has thick facial hair and wears a hooded cloak. The sphinx is impossible not to stare at.

“Welcome,” says the man softly, and catches Al’s attention for the first time. Something about that voice sounds familiar, and he wonders for a moment if it’s the one from the dream. He doesn’t remember whether that voice was male or female, though, and there’s a moment of vague familiarity when he studies the man’s face, but it passes.

“Thank you,” he says. “Marie Roche from North Lab sent us; she said you might be able to give us some advice.”

“I’d certainly be happy to try,” the man says. “What is it you need?”

“We want to learn about magic,” Ed tells him. “She said you could help us.”

“Perhaps.” The man frowns slightly. “Magic isn’t easy, though, boys. Most people have trouble getting the hang of it.”

“We know that,” Ed says, looking like he’s trying not to make a face. “We studied magic where we came from; we’re not complete beginners. We just want to figure out how to get back there without endangering other people.”

“Very well.” The man sounds amused. “Perhaps you could help me in return, though, if you really are such intrepid adventurers as you seem?”

It’s only fair, Al thinks, remembering Equivalent Exchange. “What do you need?”

“The head witch at our French laboratory borrowed something from me, and I need it back. I’d like you to go and fetch it for me.”

Ed shrugs. “Doesn’t sound too tough. Then you’ll teach us about magic and help us get back to our world?”

“Yes,” the man says. “Be warned, though, that your welcome to the West Laboratory may not be very warm. They haven’t been on the best of terms with the rest of us recently.”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Ed, and Al resists the urge to drop his forehead into his palm. “What d’you need back?”

“A silver watch,” says the man. “When you bring it back here, I’ll help you get home.”

“All right,” says Al. “Come on, Brother.”

His intention is to leave Sciezka at the lab here, happily studying, and let Mr. Archambault get back to Belgium, but to his surprise, both of them insist on coming along.

“You’re helping me realize my dream,” Sciezka tells them. “I’m not going to give up on yours just because it has one extra step.”

“I gave my word that I would protect you,” Mr. Archambault adds in a booming voice. “And members of the Archambault family do not hold their promises lightly. You have my assistance until you find your way home, Edward and Alphonse Elric.”

“Meow,” says the kitten.

And so half an hour later, they’re all making the trek back down the mountain. By the time they get back onto the path, Al’s eyelids are already starting to droop, but Ed keeps promising that they can sleep on the train, so he makes his legs keep moving even though he’d really rather lie down on the trail and take a nap.

When they arrive back in Meiringen, they make their travel reservations to France, then use the extra hour they have before their train leaves to refill Al’s grocery basket, which is getting low.

It’s a relief to board the train and leave the town where the creepy inn was, and Al dozes off almost immediately. When he wakes, several hours have passed, and they’ve crossed the border into France.

The rail journey takes most of the day, and by the time the golden pathway finally curves off into one of the stations, the sun is starting to set. Ed looks around once they get off the train and lets out a low whistle.

“Whoever’s in charge here picked a nice place to work.”

“Yeah,” Al agrees, slightly awestruck by the scenery. “It’s beautiful. Do you think the lab is close by?”

“Only one way to find out,” Ed grins, and Al nods and starts leading them along the golden pathway, which meanders along for a mile or so before ending at…

“Um.” Al points hesitantly. “I think that’s it.”

Ed snorts. “Seriously? They built their laboratory in an old French villa? I can’t wait to meet whoever runs this place.”

“We should be careful,” Al says uncertainly. “Part of the lab in Munich was at a villa, too.”

“Well, in that case, I say we just sneak in, find this head witch, and demand the watch back, then go on our way.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this,” says Al.

Ten minutes later finds them tiptoeing through the back garden, where they find a window that’s unlocked and not difficult to get open. After a brief debate, it’s decided that the Elric brothers will enter the house while Sciezka and Mr. Archambault wait outside with the basket and the kitten.

“Just like old times, huh, Al?” Ed breathes with a grin as they make their way down a corridor and up a staircase. Al tries to give him a disapproving look, but it’s all he can do to hide his answering grin; it does feel familiar, the two of them sneaking around somewhere they’re not supposed to be.

“Qu’est-ce que vous faites ici, mes petits cambrioleurs?”

Both brothers spin instantly, and Ed gasps and points. “You!”

“I beg your pardon; are we acquainted?” Roy Mustang asks smoothly, switching effortlessly to German. “Or perhaps I should just assume you’re spies.”

“We’re not spies!” Ed snaps. “We just came from Central Lab. The guy there wants his watch back. That’s all.”

“Oh, does he? And you, having my best intentions at heart, decided to break into my laboratory and steal it.”

“We’re very sorry for breaking in,” Al says earnestly, stepping forward before Ed can say anything. “It’s just that we weren’t sure if we would be able to see you otherwise. I’m Alphonse Elric, and this is my older brother, Edward.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “René Moreau. But surely you don’t think I’m going to hand over the watch just because you’ve introduced yourselves?”

“We need it,” growls Ed. “There’s something important we have to do. Give it here.”

“I think not,” says Mr. Moreau idly, and raises his hand to snap.

Al drags Ed into one of the laboratory rooms and slams the door behind them just in time, but he can still feel the heatwave.

“Shit!” Ed says as they scrabble for the lock and back up into the room. “Figures this Mustang would have the same damn power and try to kill us with it.”

“He’s not Mustang,” Al reminds his brother. “And we did break into his house. Lab.”

“Still, no wonder that guy said this place wasn’t friendly-” Ed cuts himself off as Mr. Moreau evidently gets tired of trying to open the door and it explodes inward in a blast of fire.

“This what you want?” he asks, dangling a silver watch from the hand that isn’t poised to snap. “Come and get it, then. If you can take it from me, I’ll let you go.”

“Easier said than done,” Al mumbles, then dives behind a workstation to escape a burst of flame.

“Calm down, you psychopath!” Ed shouts, then ducks hastily. “Can’t we deal with this reasonably?”

“Reasonable?” Mr. Moreau demands. “Aren’t you the one who decided that the best way to talk to me would be breaking into my lab?”

“Okay, so I could have thought it through a little better!” Ed yells grumpily, and Al resists the urge to roll his eyes and tries to think of a way out of this. Even if they’re not going to be able to reason with Colonel Mus- Mr. Moreau, he’s done nothing to indicate that he’s a bad person, and Al certainly doesn’t want to hurt him. If only there was some way to get his gloves away from him, or…

He and Ed duck into the same corridor between tables, and when their eyes meet, Al has an idea, and he knows that Ed can tell and takes a moment to be grateful they can read each other so well. Meanwhile, his older brother pops up above the table.

“Hey, Must- Moreau, do you usually fry people without asking questions?”

“When they’re housebreakers, yes.”

Al ducks down and creeps behind a line of workstations, hearing his brother call a few more taunts back while continuing to dodge the flames whooshing around. There’s a cleaning cart by the wall, and if that’s what it looks like it is…

When he peeks over the edge of one of the desks, Mr. Moreau’s back is to him, and Ed is still evading his attacks, looking slightly singed and more than slightly annoyed.

“Will you just stop trying to kill us and listen!” he shouts, then throws himself to the ground as another tongue of fire crackles over his head. “What the hell?”

“I thought I told you that if you wanted the watch, you’d have to win it from me,” Mr. Moreau says, sounding like he’s finding this very entertaining. “Giving up already?”

“Not a chance,” says Al, and throws a bucket of water over him before he’s even finished turning.

Mr. Moreau blinks at him, dripping hand still poised to snap, and Al tries not to giggle, because Colonel Mustang always looks so surprised when someone douses him with water and renders him harmless.

“We’ll be taking that,” Ed says, snatching the watch. “Nice one, Al.”

Mr. Moreau smiles thinly. “I suppose fair is fair. Do be careful, though. Make sure you know what you’re getting yourselves into in Central Lab.”

“Thanks, but we know,” says Ed.

“Well, just in case you change your mind.” Al isn’t sure he likes the look on Mr. Moreau’s face, because it’s the look Colonel Mustang gave Ed when he wished him luck sneaking into Lior, the one he got when he’d given up talking Ed out of it. “If things don’t work out the way you’d planned and you find yourselves in trouble, I’d recommend seeking help at South Lab, in Italy.”

“We’ll keep it in mind,” Ed says dismissively, heading for the door. “Au revoir, Mr. Moreau. Or not.”

“And, um, sorry again for breaking into your house,” Al says guiltily, edging after him. The Colonel - Mr. Moreau - smiles at him, that same worrying smile edged with pity.

“South Lab,” he says. “In Italy. Just in case.”

When they get back outside, Al lets out a breath that feels like it’s been held since they broke in.

“It sounded like he was warning us against something,” he says nervously as they make their way back into town, Sciezka and Mr. Archambault in tow again. “What do you think it was?”

“Who knows.” Ed rolls his eyes. “Maybe just trying to psych us out. Either way, it’s not like we have many other options.”

“Maybe it’s like the philosopher’s stone,” Al muses. “Maybe there’s some price for doing magic that we don’t know about.” He bites his lip. “I wish he’d just told us what he meant!”

Ed laughs shortly. “That’s Mustang for you. It’s funny; everyone’s so similar to the versions we know. They don’t just look alike. The only ones who have been really different are the homunculi, and even that makes sense, because the guys in this world aren’t Bradley and Greed - they’re whoever the alchemists that made Bradley and Greed were trying to bring back.”

They speculate a little more as they walk back to town, and by the time they arrive, it’s fully dark out. None of them are eager to try their luck with another inn, but they have to sleep somewhere, and as Sciezka points out, they can’t all be run by lunatic magicians. Still, when they finally find a place, Al checks his pillowcase three times before putting his head down on it.

The night passes uneventfully, though, and the next day, they board the first train back to Switzerland and arrive in the early afternoon, stopping for lunch before starting up to the lab. Well-rested and in daylight, the walk doesn’t seem as long as before, and Al’s heart starts to pound in anticipation as they reach the dark green building and knock on the door again. Greed answers it, as before, and leads them down the same corridor to the same room.

“Here,” says Al, lifting the silver watch out of his basket and offering it to the man who’s waiting for them. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Oh, yes,” says the wizard, taking it reverently. “My, that was quick. So you managed to best the flame witch, did you?”

“Yeah, we did,” Ed says. “So do we get what you promised now?”

The man nods peaceably. “Yes, of course. Did all four of you want to study magic?”

Al shakes his head. “Sciezka just wants access to your library, and Mr. Archambault came along to protect us and prove himself. My brother and I are investigating a way to get home, but most of all I want to find out how to get his missing limbs back. Is there anything in your kind of magic that could do that?”

“Certainly.”

Al’s breath catches. “Will you show me?”

“Yes,” says the wizard. “Follow me.” Both brothers start to follow, and he holds up a hand. “I’m sorry, just Alphonse. This particular part of my research is secret, and I’m bending the rules just to show it to him. Afterwards, he’ll be able to restore your limbs, and I’ll teach you both how to get home.”

Once Ed reluctantly agrees, Al leaves his basket with Mr. Archambault, then follows the wizard and his sphinx out into the corridor and into a different room. This one is set up with all sorts of lab equipment, and there’s a large machine in one corner hidden by a curtain.

“I’ll just be a moment,” the man says, moving across to the only other door in the room. “Why don’t you two keep each other company?” He disappears, closing it behind him, and Al turns to the sphinx, fiddling with his hands nervously.

“Hello,” he says. “I - I’m Alphonse.” He doesn’t know whether the creature understands human speech or not, but it seems intelligent.

“Allll-phonse,” it repeats, like a child, and Al smiles, even though there’s an unsettling feeling nagging at him.

“That’s right.”

“Al-phonse. Daddy said keep each other company. Can we play?”

Al freezes like he’s been turned to stone. For a moment, he feels like he’s back in the armor: cold, hollow, and a layer removed from the world. The panic is almost numbness.

“I remembered something I have to tell my brother,” he says, and makes a break for the door.

It’s locked.

“EDWARD!” he screams, pounding on it. It won’t budge. Steps come running down the corridor, and he hears the impact of automail on the other side of the door, but even that does no good.

“Al?” Ed shouts. “Open the door! What’s wrong?”

“I can’t; he locked it!” Al practically sobs. “Ed, he’s - it’s not a sphinx, it’s her!”

He hears Ed’s gasp through the door. There have only ever been two people who were simply her to the Elric brothers, and it’s obvious he’s not talking about Sloth.

“Get me out of here!” he begs. “I don’t know what he’s going to do, but-”

“Ah,” says a soft voice from behind him, and now he recognizes it, now he can picture what the man would look like with no facial hair. “What seems to be the matter, Alphonse?”

“Stay away from me,” Al says, spinning and raising his hands. He may not be a suit of armor anymore, but he can still defend himself. “I don’t want anything to do with whatever you’re planning.”

“Is that you, Tucker?” Ed snarls from the other side of the door. “Touch my brother and I’ll kill you, you hear me?”

“I’m afraid he’s rather important to my plans,” says Tucker, “so this isn’t really up for debate.” And he jabs Al with some kind of stick that doesn’t look like it should do much harm, but Al’s body absolutely jolts, and his muscles stop listening to him, and he falls to the floor with a gasp, hurting in a dizzy, tingling kind of way. Tucker starts dragging him across the floor, ignoring the screams and demands coming from Ed’s side of the door, and jabs Al again when he recovers enough to struggle. This time, Al’s vision whites out with the pain, and by the time he recovers the curtain’s been pulled back and he’s strapped by the wrists to whatever machine was behind it, facing outward and unable to see the thing.

“What - are you going to do with me?” he gasps, trying to make his eyes focus again.

“You’re from another world,” Tucker says. “That means your blood is worth its weight in any commodity you could name. Your brother’s, too. You should be enough for this reaction, but if you’re not, I can always go get him too.”

“Good luck,” Al hisses. “Have you forgotten that we beat your fire witch?”

“Oh, yes,” says Tucker. “I wish you’d killed him, though. That man has been a thorn in my side for too long.”

“You mean he figured out what you were? No wonder West Lab wasn’t on friendly terms with you!”

“Please be quiet,” Tucker says, and reaches for something on the machine.

There’s an explosion from elsewhere in the laboratory.

Tucker frowns. “I’d better go see what that was. Wait here.” He disappears through the same door in the back of the room, the sphinx following him this time, and Al struggles to get free, to no avail. There’s another explosion, and the sound of shouting, and he grits his teeth and looks around for anything he could use. If he can just find something to draw a circle with… but no, alchemy in this world uses more than circles, it uses the special cloth, too. Maybe he can get free some other way; if he can just work one of his hands out of the leather cuff, he can undo the other…

More shouting, and footsteps run down the corridor, and then there’s a smaller explosion outside. The lock bubbles and melts down the inside of the door before the whole thing is kicked open.

“Mr. Moreau!” Al says in shock, and his rescuer hurries over and starts unstrapping the cuffs.

“We have to hurry,” he says shortly. “Your brother and the others are trying to hold back Ozymandias, but he’s got a pack of monsters under his control, and I’m the only one who can do magic right now.” He grabs Al’s hand and tugs him out into the corridor, and from around the corner, Al hears more crashes and an eerie howling.

When they burst into the room they were originally led to, Ed, Sciezka, and Mr. Archambault have their hands full fighting a hoard of chimeras, and Mr. Moreau immediately joins in with his fire magic. Al grabs a broom and raises it before him like a staff, scanning the room for Tucker, and is just in time to see him pulling some kind of switch on the wall.

There’s an earsplitting ringing, and Al figures out what it is a moment too late.

“Colonel!” he shouts without thinking, and Mr. Moreau spits something unprintable in French and dives for cover as the overhead sprinklers come on. He doesn’t quite make it.

“Damn it!” Ed shouts. “This guy is really starting to piss me off! Come here, Mustang!”

“Why can nobody learn my name?” Mr. Moreau demands as Ed grabs one of his hands, uses a marker to scribble a transmutation circle on the palm of the glove, then drops the pen to catch his other wrist. That done, he shoves Mr. Moreau’s hands together in a clapping motion, then drags him down and presses them to the floor, and Al tightens his grip on the broom and silently hopes it’ll work.

There’s a crackling, then an enormous crash as spikes of the floor shoot up to trap Tucker and all but a few of the chimeras on the far side of the room.

“Impressive,” Mr. Moreau admits breathlessly, getting to his feet and examining the new circle on his glove as Ed and Al take care of the last chimeras on their side. “We’d better get going, though; there was another door back there, and it won’t take them long to get out.”

“Did anyone else come with you?” Al asks as the five of them make a run for the front door. He’s hoping the kitten will forgive him for another bumpy ride. “How did you even know to come?”

“I called South Lab this morning, because I’d gotten curious about who you were. They’d heard from North Lab. When I found out you were from another world, I realized what Ozymandias must be planning to do with you and got here as fast as I could.”

They burst out into the sunlight and start down towards the trail, but it’s difficult to run on the steep ground, and they can already hear howling starting behind them.

“South Lab is on the way as backup,” Mr. Moreau gasps out as they stumble through the trees. “I was scheduled to barely beat them to Meiringen, so they should be on their way up the trail by now. If we can just get that far, we’ll be safe.”

Al knows the trail isn’t terribly far from where they are, but he’s still not sure they’re going to make it. The chimeras are getting closer, and when he risks a glance over his shoulder, he sees that there are dozens of them. Things are looking bad.

“What the hell - Moreau,” Ed pants as they run. “Why didn’t you tell us - that he - was a fucking psycho!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t broken into my house,” Mr. Moreau tells him breathlessly, “I would have been more inclined to trust you and less inclined to mistake you for his lackeys.”

“Stop arguing!” Al orders, dragging them around a boulder and onto the flat cliff above the trail. He hears a snarling behind him and spins, stumbling, to see a chimera that’s drawn ahead of the others leap at him with its claws outstretched and then fall, whimpering and bleeding, as a gunshot rings out. He stares dumbly at it, then turns around to look.

“Rita!” Mr. Moreau says. “Santo cielo, sei una gioia per gli occhi!”

“Garde le charme pour plus tard et bouge-toi, René!” says the blonde woman at the top of the trail, a gun in her left hand and a transmutation glove on her right.

“Everyone, down!” shouts Mr. Moreau, and as they dive out of the way, she snaps her fingers. A small gust of air swirls around her hand, and then she throws it like a top, and it pulls the air into a cyclone that throws chimeras bodily in all directions and sends Al’s coat flapping furiously where he’s lying on the ground thirty feet away.

“Holy shit,” Ed says, hair blowing around his face. “Hawkeye’s an alchemist here?”

Mr. Moreau raises an eyebrow. “That’s Rita Sparviero, the hurricane witch from South Lab. Her men call her L’occhio di falco - is that what you mean?”

“Sort of,” Al says, ducking down as another violent gust of wind whips over their heads, scattering chimeras right and left. “We’ve, um, heard of her. Wow.”

“You seem to have heard of a lot of people. Does this, by any chance, have something to do with your other world?”

“Don’t move!” Lieutenant- Ms. Sparviero’s voice shouts in accented German, and Al looks up to see Tucker, who’s appeared in the midst of all the dazed and tossed-around chimeras.

Foolishly, Tucker tries. Even more foolishly, he tries moving for Mr. Moreau with the electric stick he used on Al. Nobody but him seems surprised when he gets a bullet through his hand and falls to the ground, moaning.

“Are you all right?” Ms. Sparviero speaks the words precisely, but her accent is rather endearingly thick. She offers a hand to Al, who takes it gratefully and manages to climb to his feet, looking around for the others. They all appear to be unharmed. “In that case, let’s get you home.”

Soldiers from South Lab take care of the cleanup, thankfully, and the Elric brothers, their companions, and the two witches stand to the side while Al explains his and Ed’s dilemma.

“I’m not sure about your limbs,” Ms. Sparviero tells Ed seriously. “I do know a way you could get home, but it might not be very easy.”

“We can’t open the Gate again,” Ed says, and she shakes her head.

“Not through the Gate. You said souls from this world pass to yours as energy, no? Through smaller versions of the Gate within each person.”

“That’s right,” Ed says thoughtfully. “So since Al and I were alchemists, we’re already connected to both worlds. But we’d have to travel back to ours as energy - we’d have to transmute ourselves. And human transmutation always has a price.”

“You would need a powerful energy source to avoid the risk of rebound,” she agrees.

“Wait,” Al says. “Would a philosopher’s stone work?”

Ed glances over at him. “Well, yeah, if we had one.”

Wordlessly, Al reaches down and pulls the red crystal out of the hole in his boot lining, then holds it up. He’s rewarded with five sets of eyes staring at him and shrugs helplessly.

“Ms. Roche found it in the ruins of East Lab. I don’t know what it was doing there. But will it work?”

“I would imagine so,” says Ms. Sparviero.

The next morning, they set up the transmutation and get ready to go home.

“We’ll miss you,” says Sciezka, hugging a book to her chest. She’s been given the task of sorting out the Central Lab’s library, and Al knows for a fact that she was up all night reading.

“The Archambault family will tell stories of you for generations,” their other companion sniffs. He’s agreed to keep the kitten, and it’s purring happily in his arm, looking tiny next to his large frame.

“It’s certainly been interesting,” says Mr. Moreau, and Al smiles.

“All right.” Ms. Sparviero finishes laying out the cloth with the transmutation circle. “Are you two ready?”

Both brothers nod, and step up to the cloth. Ed reaches out and laces the fingers of his flesh hand through Al’s, and Al swallows and looks to the people around them.

“Goodbye,” he says. “We’ll never forget you.”

Amidst good wishes and farewells, he and Ed jump. The pressure-sensitive cloth activates the transmutation circle as soon as their boots hit it, and Al feels himself dissolving into a world of light as the world on the other side of the gate fades away.

When he opens his eyes, he’s lying on a grassy hilltop, looking up at the sky, and Ed’s hand is still in his. Dizzily, he struggles to his feet, helping pull his brother up with him.

“Are we home?” he asks, blinking.

“One way to find out.” Ed grins and claps his hands together, then presses them to the ground. The patch of earth in front of him melts up into the shape of a cat, and Ed catches his breath. “Yeah. We’re home.” He stands and looks around, putting his hands on his hips, then blinks. “But… other than that, I have no idea where we are.”

Al laughs, and a warm breeze wraps around him and tickles his hair. He didn’t think about it before, but he can tell this is Amestris by the smell. “Well, then. Only one thing to do. We’d better start walking, Brother.”