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Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist at all. Though I own a couple of the DVD’s and the Manga; but, I doubt that counts for much…
Warning: This Fan-Fiction may contain Anime Spoilers: This is pretty much a generic Fic in the way of what the time-line is. I really don’t think there is anything really major, and characters that should be dead, aren’t, because it fits within that time-slot.
Possibly an AU.
Rating: K+ (For Edward’s slightly-bad mouth. Though nothing major, it could still offend. I apologize in advance.)
Genre: Drama/Suspense
Characters: Edward Elric – 14 (going on fifteen), Alphonse – 13 (going on fourteen) and Colonel Mustang! NO SLASH OF ANY KIND! Rar. (If you really see it that way, then be my guest. I can’t stop you.)
Chapter Two Summery – What is wrong with his brother? What the heck is happening? As Edward continues to try to figure out what happens, he asks himself a very odd question, “Why does the rain look like rain, but feel like snow?”
-Chapter 2-
Rain Like Snow
Rain still cascaded downwards, but it seemed dull, and in the distance. Edward was no longer laying front-down on the cold and wet ground; rather, he was leaning against wall of the alleyway.
He ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea what had happened earlier, and his confused mind had an extreme trouble of trying to believe what had happened. He clenched his metal fist as he thought, refusing to look at the hole in the alleyway that Alphonse used as a means for escape.
What had happened? What was wrong with Alphonse? Why was he acting that way? He definitely was not himself. Usually, when they had arguments like that, he would have to go and find Alphonse, and Alphonse was usually ready to accept apologies and work things out between the two of them. Edward had never, never, never in all the years he had known his brother, had seen Alphonse ever react like that to an argument like that.
He looked in front of him towards the semi-smashed spikes that were laying in the alleyway, but he grimaced and turned away.
He looked upwards instead, the rain splashing against his face lightly. He paused, giving a questioning look to the sky. By the looks of it, the rain should be smashing against his face and stinging like needles. But every drop that hit his face felt like flutters of coolness that tickled slightly as it melted. The rain felt like snow. Why does the rain look like rain, but feel like snow?
He placed a hand to his forehead, to shield his eyes from the ‘rain’ pondering quietly. First the people, then Alphonse, then the rain, everything seemed to be contradicting itself.
He stood up, surprisingly his legs didn’t put up much of an argument, and then walked back down the alleyway from here he came from in the first place.
Everything seemed… off… now that Edward began to think about it. The streets looked normal, but it was as if he was having trouble understanding what he was looking at. Like it was incomplete but complete at the same time. He grasped his head. No… that didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.
He felt a hand grab for his shoulder and he whipped around, but found no one, the feeling of a hand still there on his shoulder. It felt gentle, like a hand firmly gripping a shoulder in greeting, or one of sympathy.
“What the hell?”
Now he was feeling people and not seeing them. Maybe that’s what it was like for those people that he tried to stop earlier in the streets. Maybe they could feel him and not see him; it was just happening to him now. As much as that made no sense either.
Something took grip of either shoulder shook him, hard, though he actually didn’t move. His hands shot up to his shoulders, kneading them in an attempt to feel the offender.
“What the hell,” he said again, though harsher, whirling around to see the culprit. Who… wasn’t… there.
“Edward,” a muffled voice came from in front of him, or, what he thought was in front of him. It seemed vague and in the distance. “Edward?” the voice repeated.
The shaking began again, more of a feeling than an actual movement, he touched his shoulders again, but there was nobody there. Now the movement was beginning to annoy him. If only he could see the culprit, the he’d give whoever it was a good talking-to for annoying him; and then some.
“Fullmetal!” The voice rain clear, and not muffled, he whipped his head around and saw Mustang standing beside him, one hand gripped tight on his shoulder.
“Colonel?” he asked, shocked at the Flame’s sudden appearance. Since when did the Colonel get there? He should have seen him long before, it wasn’t as if the Colonel wasn’t the most unnoticeable person in the world.
He turned his head and saw the second hand was owned by Havoc, who looked very grim. “What? When did you get here…?”
The Flame’s voice caught Edward’s attention and he faced the Colonel again. “You are to come with us, Elric,” his voice harsh and serious, his stare seemed cold… emotionally cold. His furious gaze burned right through Edward, and the Fullmetal Alchemist found himself nodding numbly.
Mustang’s grip moved from Edward’s shoulders to his wrist, and Havoc let go of his other shoulder. Edward was sure that it is weren’t his metal one, that the grip would have been painful. It was just the way Mustang’s hand looked so tight against his arm. The Colonel began to lead Edward down the street, Havoc acting as some sort of armed guard. To say in the least, it was very confusing to Edward, Mustang was so stoic and serious, more so than usual, and Havoc was playing the serious type too well. He decided that it would be wise to keep his mouth shut.
“Edward,” came the muffled voice again, though more desperate.
Edward looked backwards abruptly, and stopped, causing Havoc to jump and aim the rifle he was holding across his chest directly at Edward.
“Woah! Don’t shoot!” Edward quickly said, holding up his free hand. “I just heard something… that’s all!”
Havoc sent a weary glance over Edward’s shoulder, to Mustang, still pointing the gun. He looked almost apologetic whenever his gaze went over to Edward, as if he really didn’t want to be there, and doing what he was doing. But he also seemed afraid. Of what, Edward had no clue.
“At ease, Havoc.”
Havoc sighed and lowered the gun, but kept a wary-eye on Edward, frowning in a subtle apology.
Edward was about to ask what Havoc’s problem was when Mustang turned him around.
“Explain,” Mustang hissed, pulling in Edward by his wrist.
Edward’s eyes widened in fear, he realized what was so disturbing about the Colonel’s stare. They had no emotion but pure and utter contempt, a hate that was directed at him. Usually, there would be some other emotion behind those eyes… but only pure and utter hatred boiled behind them now.
“I-I just thought I heard something,” Edward hastily explained, surprised by his voice’s own shakiness. “I thought Havoc was saying something to me.”
Mustang’s eyes narrowed to slits, as if he didn’t believe a word that came out of Edward’s mouth. “Really?”
“Y-yes…” He then tacked a, “sir!” at the end.
“You better have,” Mustang spat out. “And for some further information, Elric,” Edward’s name sounded like acid on the Flame’s tongue, “you will not be talked to by anyone unless approved by me. Nor will you talk to anyone. So know what’s best for you and keep quiet.”
Edward twitched, but he dared a response. “Sir,” it felt strange to add the title, but considering how the Colonel was acting, he thought it would be best to add it, “may I ask a question?”
Mustang glared at him for a moment, but then let out a, “proceed.”
“Why exactly am I being treated like a – well – murderer? I know what I did was wrong but I had something very important to do and –“
A swift and heavy slap to Edward’s face shut him up mid-sentence.
“That’s enough,” Mustang growled. “You want to know why, Elric? You had disobeyed orders, on more than one occasion, you berate your superior officers, refuse to listen to most orders, and when you do, you botch them so bad that the military has to do more work than necessary to fix the problems you started.”
Edward noticed just then that the Flame wasn’t using his state-title, but he brushed it off as nothing. “Does that really mean I deserve to be treated like this?” He found that his fear of the new-found, and much colder, Colonel began to melt away, and he was glaring heavily at him now. “God-dammit! You should give a better reason than tha-”
SLAP!
Edward spat blood, though he couldn’t taste it.
“You’ve been charged of numerous law-breaking. Some of which are highly offensive.” Mustang continued. “You’ve transmuted gold from coal deposits to cheat out a military officer from what was rightfully his. You’ve bribed a military officer, you’ve failed to listen to countless orders, you’ve used another officer to get information that was strictly forbidden, you’ve been giving information to others that are not in the military, and you’ve given access to the Library to non state-Alchemists…”
“You never said Alphonse couldn’t come!” Edward gaped at him. “- and how did you know about the-“ he stopped when he saw Mustang’s hand still raised threateningly.
“And what is the worse than of all of that, Elric?” Mustang demanded a hint of disgust and loathing on his voice.
Edward didn’t respond, but by the look on his face, the Colonel took it as if Edward had asked.
“You did a human transmutation. The number one most taboo thing to do in Alchemy and in the law, it is considered as good as murder, Elric.”
What? When did that law ever come to being? He knew it wasn’t allowed, but there wasn’t any law stating that it was equivalent to murder, or anything for that matter. And since when did Mustang seem so animate in his disgust for what he did? Wasn’t it he, in the very beginning, who saw what Edward did, who suggested him to change, who bloody well didn’t care and didn’t judge him?
“But I thought you didn’t-“
Mustang cut him off. “I was wrong in doing so. I thought that I could possibly stop your ways before it went out of hand. You were ten, Elric, you were only a child, I thought I could fix that.” He growled, “but that was four years ago, almost five, and nothing has changed. In fact, it has gotten worse.” He continued with an almost hint of satisfaction on his lips, “I have no choice but to put you to the proper punishment myself.”
Edward’s eyes widened in horror, he thought his heart stopped beating. “But you said that Human Transmutation is the equivalent to murder!”
“Yes, you’re point?”
“But the punishment for murder is death!”
Mustang’s expression changed to one of that seemed bored, but still loathing. “I’m quite aware of that, Elric.”
Edward began to struggle from behind Mustang’s grip. “Y-you can’t! Y-you can’t! It’s not fair! That’s not the law! The law isn’t like that! You can’t just kill be for that! I didn’t know! I was only ten!” Edward screeched, belting out the words in a frantic hurry. “You can’t do this!”
Executed? He couldn’t be executed! What would happen to Alphonse? What would happen to Winry and Pinako, Izumi and Sid? What the would happen to him?
“I can’t die now! I can’t.” Edward still struggled, “This isn’t like you. You don’t do these things! You can’t execute me!”
Mustang shook his head. “I never said I was going to ‘execute’ you.”
Edward stopped still, terror filling his mind as he knew that the gun Havoc was holding at the small of his back, though he couldn’t feel it.
“You… wouldn’t…” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Try me.” Mustang said seriously.
“Damn it. I’ll have to carry him.” The muffled voice returned, for a second pausing all time, and infiltrating the moment.
He felt something pick him up, though he was still standing with a gun pointed at his back. It was strange to have the sensation of being carried but be standing at the same time. It seemed that neither Mustang nor Havoc noticed, it was almost as if they were perpetually stuck in the seconds before the Colonel was going to order to shoot.
Havoc and Mustang began to waver.
“Fullmetal…” Came the voice albeit clearer than before.
His eyes snapped open, which was odd because he didn’t remember closing them.
“Edward?” came a gruff voice from above him.
Edward blinked, the blackness fading and the world coming into view. He was sideways, not upright, and he most certainly didn’t have a gun pointed at his back (though he didn’t remember why there should have been one). Rather, there was a pair of arms holding him up. Plus, it wasn’t raining… it was… snowing. Beautiful white flakes flurried down to the ground in waves.
A groan escaped his lips, which surprised him, he was going more along the lines of, ‘what the hell,’ but it seemed that it received pretty much the same reaction.
“Fullmetal?”
Edward glanced upwards at the person who was connected to the arms that were holding him up. He blinked a couple of times, feeling incredibly tired, bleary and rather sluggish, he had trouble grasping who it was.
“Edward?” the person repeated, this time using the older Elric’s first name, seeing if they could get a better response than a grunt.
It was amazing, one moment, he was near death and was very clearly very aware of the situation, the next, he was having trouble grasping where he was, or remembered what had happened. He knew that transition should have been strange, that it should have bothered him, but… it didn’t. He focused on the person harder, waking up a little more upon realizing who it was.
“Colonel?”
Mustang put on a grim expression. “Yes, Fullmetal,” he confirmed.
Now how did that happen? He was most certainly in the Colonel’s arms, and he had no idea of why he was in that position. He thought harder… and wasn’t Mustang just about to do something… bad? His mind screamed in alarm, but he couldn’t find any reason for said alarm. His mind tumbled. He knew that there was something the Colonel did to make him terrified, but he couldn’t remember what.
Mustang’s frown deepened, he shook his head and sighed slightly. “What have you gotten yourself into, Edward?”
It wasn’t uncommon for the Colonel to use his first name, it just was used when something more serious was at hand. Edward knew, at that very moment, that he was in deep trouble. He fidgeted in the Flame’s arms, trying to escape from the Colonel’s grip.
“Lemme down…” he unintentionally slurred, trying to lever himself to the ground, in an almost drunken manner.
Mustang kept his grip, and responded with a simple, “no.”
Edward glared up at him, or at least tried to, he must have looked humorous; but the Colonel didn’t laugh, he continued walking on forwards.
“Let me down,” Edward pressed, his voice no better than before.
“You’ve really done it this time, Fullmetal.” Mustang said as he continued to walk on, ignoring Edward’s demands. “What were you thinking?”
Edward looked away from Mustang, his bangs characteristically covering his face.
“What happened, Edward?” the Flame asked, demanding an answer. “Why didn’t you tell any of us that something was wrong?”
Edward still looked away, but muttered under his breath, “It’s nothing you should be concerned about.”
Mustang growled, and stopped, looking at Edward long and hard. “It is my business now, Fullmetal. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m carrying you.”
Edward made a noise, of course he had noticed, it wasn’t too hard to notice when one of his least favourite people was carrying him; the Flame continued before Edward could interject with a comment. “I don’t think I need to repeat the missing part from our earlier conversation. But I think you have to know that you had been missing for almost ten hours.”
Edward spluttered, gaping up at the Colonel. “Ten hours…?”
“Yes. I found you asleep on the steps in an alleyway.”
Edward thought. He had been asleep? Well… that would make sense. Yet again that feeling that he knew that something bad had happened overwhelmed him. He scoured his thoughts as he felt the Colonel begin walking again.
‘What happened…?’ Edward thought.
He struggled with his memorys of only a few minutes before. Then, slowly, he manged to pull them out. The strange people… then, was it Alphonse? His mind went into alert mode as he began to remember…
Good lord, Mustang and Havoc were about to murder him!
He screamed suddenly and began to frantically push himself out of Mustang’s grip.
The Colonel, who wasn’t expecting Edward’s sudden hysterical means to get out of his grip, shouted in surprise as Edward succeeded to dislodge himself from his arms and he fell to the ground with a hard thump.
As quickly as he could, Edward shuffled away from the Colonel frantically, unable to get up due to fatigue and the snow on the ground that made the sidewalk slick like ice.
“Edward?” Mustang cautiously asked the teen as he approached him, hand outstretched, looking seriously surprised!
Edward frantically backed away. “Get away from me!” he screeched.
He remembered now. Mustang was going to execute him. He wasn’t sleeping, Havoc must have knocked him out. Now the bastard Colonel was going to carry him away to deal with him in his own manner, and away from the military. Mustang was just using his grogginess to take advantage of him!
“I-I’m not going to let you touch me, bastard!”
The Colonel’s eyes widened in serious concern and he tried approaching Edward again. “I’m not going to do anything Edward.”
“Like hell you’re not!” Edward shouted.
He continued to approach, and Edward kept backing away, at least, until his back hit the wall. He scrunched himself as tightly as he could to it, quite aware that his terror was showing. Not that it mattered; the Flame Alchemist was going to torch him.
“Edward, calm down!”
Edward laughed. “Calm down? You want me to ‘calm down’, bastard? After what you promised to do?” His voice was shaking, and his laugh was forced more than anything, though it still was creepy, even to his own ears.
The Colonel knelt down in front of Edward, which made the younger Alchemist stiffen in horror.
“What did I promise to do?” Mustang asked as softly as he could.
Edward tried shuffling to the side. “Like you don’t know…”
“No. I don’t.” The Colonel’s patience holding strong. “What did I say?”
Edward looked at him, and took a breath as if he was going to respond. He saw a chance, and he took it. Using the wall as support, Edward stood up quickly and began to run as quickly as he could.
“Edward!” Edward heard as he rushed down the nearest Alleyway and round the next corner.
He madly dashed down the alleyway, thankful that Central had so many of them. He didn’t dare to look back, in fear that if he looked, that he would see Mustang following. He turned a corner as quick as he could and took another, which brought him back out into the street.
He heard footsteps behind him, ones that dwarfed his own, and he found himself running impossibly faster, running into the Alley between to other buildings, and turning the first corner he came across. He had to loose him.
“Edward!”
‘I can’t die. Not now.’
His chest stung from the constant run, and his throat burned from the icy air that he sucked through his mouth, but he didn’t stop. His life depended on it. If and when Mustang managed to catch up with him, he would find one way or another to either torch him or find some other means to kill him.
He didn’t know why the Colonel had threatened for his life, it seemed very out-of-character for the Flame Alchemist. He didn’t seem to be the type of person to take out an impossible revenge that had no meaning. If Mustang was going to kill him for all the reasons that he had explained, why didn’t he just do it earlier? That’s what didn’t make sense, the sudden change of character and the ill-explained reasons.
“Edward!” he heard from just behind him, the footsteps of his pursuer louder. “Stop!”
Edward tried to speed up past the rate that he was already going at but it was near impossible, instead, he whipped around another corner.
He skidded to a stop before he hit the wall that was in front of him, sealing him completely from the other end of the alley. He swore pressing his hands against it as the footsteps of Mustang got louder and that stopped just behind him.
“Fullmetal,” the voice heaved, obviously fatigued and strained.
Edward turned slowly, looking at his superior officer, daring not to have the fear of death show on his face.
“Edward, whatever you think I’m going to do to you, I’m not. Nothing is going to happen. I’m not going to hurt you,” Mustang explained quickly, approaching Edward slowly with both hands raised.
Shaking, and not removing his stare from the Colonel once, he clapped his hands together.
Mustang froze on the spot, his own eyes widening. “Now, Fullmetal,” he said cautiously, “think about what you are doing…”
Still trembling Edward closed his eyes and slapped his hand behind him and against the wall.
He heard Mustang’s shout of surprise, an echoing snap, an explosion and then the clinking of thousands of shards of something clattering to the ground. He opened his eyes after a moment, to see the spike shattered on the ground, but Mustang standing right were he was before, breathing heavily from shock, hand poised to snap again.
Mustang looked surprised; he glanced towards the smashed spike at his left, which was too far away to do anything to him even if Edward had aimed it right for him. But both he and Edward knew that he didn’t, and it frankly surprised the both of them.
Why didn’t he just do it? It would have given the chance to escape. But now he was far too tired to keep on going. Edward slumped against the wall, his back sliding down against its rough surface. Mustang forgot his pose and rushed to his side, holding onto Edward’s trembling shoulders.
“What happened?” the Colonel seemed breathless, unable to understand the strange turn of events and the Fullmetal’s increasingly odd behaviour. “Explain the why you’re acting this way!”
Mustang thought that he was acting strange? It was the way that he was looking at him that Edward could tell that Mustang was thoroughly confused. What about himself? What was with the sudden change from pure and udder loathe to concern? Was it a ploy?
“Just do it,” Edward forced out, voice barely above a whisper.
Mustang’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do what?”
“Just kill me already.”
Mustang’s tightened grip on Edward’s shoulders lessened, he looked taken aback. “I’m not going to kill you, Fullmetal. Not now, not ever.”
“You lie. You said so yourself,” Edward looked up and stared hard at the Flame. “You right out told me that you were going to kill me, and gave me every reason of why you were going to. So don’t give me that crap.”
Mustang twitched at Edward’s words. “I never said those things, Edward.”
“You just did! A few minutes ago!”
Mustang shook his head. “I never said those things.”
He sounded sincere, truly sincere.
“I-I don’t understand,” Edward stuttered, “You… and Havoc… and-and Havoc had a gun, and you were pulling me…” Edward held his head in his hands, trying to remember.
“I never said anything of that sort. The only time I talked to you before picking you up had to be when you dashed off irrationally before.”
“But-but you-“
One of Mustang’s hands left Edward’s shoulder and rest on Edward’s forehead. “You’re delusional. You have a bad fever. You’re sick and you’re not thinking straight. If I ever had said those things, it must when you were asleep, in a dream.”
Edward’s mind tumbled. A dream? Could it have been a dream? It did seem hazy, and confusing. It was fuzzier than the encounter with Hawkeye and Mustang nearly, what was it, eight hours before?
“Anything else happen?”
Edward searched his thoughts. “Well… I was looking, for Alphonse, and-and these people were… strange. I-I couldn’t talk to them, they kept brushing me off as if I wasn’t even there. Then, Alphonse, I saw him, I went to apologize, and he… ran away…”
Mustang’s eyebrow raised. “Ran away?”
Edward nodded, straining to uncover the jumbled memory. “He stopped, at a dead end- and… he attacked me. Twice. He ran away after that.”
Mustang glanced at the smashed spike behind him, but said nothing returning his attention to Edward and his explanation.
“I left the alley after a few minutes,” he paused, “something about snow and rain… or snow that was rain… or… was it Rain that looked like snow?” He gripped his head tighter. “I can’t remember… but, you came, with Havoc, and you looked pissed.”
Mustang held up his hand, silencing Edward.
“I think I can guess from your earlier actions and what you told me, of what Havoc and I supposedly did. But I assure you, I would never do anything like that, nor would I ever threaten.”
Edward looked up at him, still uncertain. He could be lying, after all. Colonel Mustang was known to be one of the most manipulative bastards in all of Central, and anyone that he was manipulating would only know of such right after or when it was too late to stop. Heck, as much as he hated to emit it, the Flame Alchemist had manipulated him on more than one occasion. Why would this be any different?
Mustang must have caught the expression on Edward’s face, for he responded to the un-asked question. “No. I am not trying to get you to do anything, Fullmetal. Nor am I trying to lure you into a false sense of security.”
Edward stiffened, how the heck did he know what he was thinking?
“All I want you to do is to come with me, and out of this weather.” Mustang gestured to the heavily flurries of snow that now attacked both of the Alchemists. “You already are sick, and I don’t need one of my subordinates dieing needlessly because of a cold.”
Edward snorted at the ‘subordinates’ part, like that was the only reason why he wanted him out of the snow. He paused his thoughts, realizing, that if he was mad at Mustang for only caring about him because he was a subordinate, then he had might as well accepted that the man wasn’t manipulating him, nor was he trying to kill him in the first place. That’s when he realized that was what was intended in the first place.
“No way in hell am I going with you, bastard,” Edward’s voice rasped. “You almost tricked me there. You almost got me believing that you were innocent.”
Mustang sighed. “Is there anything that I can possibly do to get you to believe me, Fullmetal?”
Edward scowled, and made to stand up. “Well. If you aren’t going to kill me, then I am just going to get going. You won’t follow me. That will be proof enough.”
Mustang watched Edward stand up, but moved in front of him when he tried to leave. “You know I can’t do that, Ed. That would be risking a life of a subordinate, a responsibility.”
“To hell with that, you’re using the whole ‘sick’ excuse to get me to follow,” Edward tried to move around the Colonel, but growled when Mustang moved swiftly in front of him again. “Besides, I don’t think that somebody who is delirious could keep up a conversation.”
Mustang’s arms crossed, and he tried to hold the teen with one of his infamous glares. “You know very well that delirium has nothing to do with your ability to comprehend and continue a conversation. It is what you perceive as reality, and currently, you seem to think your dream is the closest thing to reality than what is happening right here, right now.”
Edward glared back, and tried to go around the Flame on the other side, but was, once again, blocked. “Damn you. Move. Don’t think I won’t hit you with a spike this time, bastard.” He moved his hands, hovering in front of each other, poised for a clap.
Mustang’s hand grabbed Edward’s wrist, which steadied his hand. “You’re shaking Fullmetal.”
“Let go,” Edward hissed, he too giving the other one of his well-known scowls.
“No. I don’t think I will.”
Edward didn’t respond, and Mustang didn’t say a word after that. They both stood that way for several minutes, the snow muffling all sound into an eerie silence.
Standing for so long in one position, Edward began to waver slightly. Still refusing to emit that he was indeed ill, he was starting to realize that he very well could be. Edward continued to glare daggers at the Colonel, waiting for the man to get frustrated and let go.
A few more minutes of their pseudo staring-contest, and Edward’s wavering became more visibly noticeable, to both Mustang and Fullmetal, though Edward fought to keep his balance, no matter how much the world was rocking. Finally, and as if Mustang had been waiting the entire time, Edward’s balance was lost and Mustang easily caught him before he went backwards onto the asphalt ground.
“Now what were you saying about not being sick?” Mustang asked smugly, a smirk gracing his lips.
Edward huffed back, but said nothing more, for the tippy-feeling was a little too overwhelming to respond.
Mustang sighed, and rearranged Edward so he was now lying in his arms in front of the Colonel.
“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, sometimes, Fullmetal; and that’s saying something.” He turned around, ignoring the damage to the wall and obvious shattered potential-weapon that lay on the ground.
He shook his head, and made his way out of the alley.
Oh. I’ve just realized that I don’t write Ed or Al when I write the narrative, I write Edward and Alphonse. The only time I ever write Ed or Al is when somebody is saying their names, and only if they’d say their name like that. (And before you comment, yes, Mustang does use “Edward,” and on occasion, “Ed” in the series, not just Fullmetal. I never really understood this Fan-Fiction addiction were people have to make it a constant point that Mustang never says his real name. When he does.)
Ahem. Anyway.
Hope you’ve enjoyed!
Chapter Three Summery: Mustang is safe, Edward has to keep telling himself that. The awkwardness of the circumstances that brought him to be staying at the Colonel’s house for that night also plague his mine. But, above all else, his worry for his brother has come back, and he wonders if he will ever find Alphonse.
Please Read and Review!
Note: I apologize for any Spelling and Grammar mistakes beforehand. Thank you.
(No Flames! I will feed them to Gluttony. And they will be yummy.)
Fullmetal Alchemist is © Hiromu Arakawa, SquarEnix and all those other people that own it. (Which isn’t me… -sniff-)
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