T for language, violence, blood?
Written by: Zilo
Beta: Maruka Gomez

Zilo: Hello, everyone! Thank you for joining me as I embark on inserting my favorite cousin into one of my stories!
Risty: I'm your favorite? (touched)
Zilo: Yup. I'd like you all to know, this is what I call a "split-genre" story. The adventure and humor usually isn't mixed together. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's exciting. Heck, sometimes it's sad. But anyway, if you all would be so kind, read the chapter!
Risty: And enjoy, everyone!

Though I am a girl, and FMA's creator is too, we are not the same. I don't own. Sad for me, great for you.

ONE: The Switch
AKA "Don't Send Any More Chain Letters"

Risty May's P.O.V.

"And OHHHHH, you rock my world, and OHHHHHHHHHH, wanna be your girl..."

I sang along with one of my favorite songs, which was currently blasting from the CD player in my bathroom, as I combed my waist-length, brownish-black hair. Whenever I did my daily twenty-minute hair ritual of washing and moisturizing and a lot of other necessary crap, I always played some music.

"...What would I DOOOOOOOOO if I couldn't hang with YOUUUUUUUUUUUU..."

A loud knock on the door interrupted my morning karaoke. I turned my CD player down and poked my head out of the bathroom. "Yes?" I called.

"Risty May! Zoe's here to take you to school!"my mom yelled through the door.

I looked down at my oversized nightshirt and socks. "Mom, I'm not even dressed!" I yelled back. "Could you keep her busy for a few minutes? Talk about the weather, or pudding, or something?"

Mom's chuckle floated through the door. "On it, ma'am," she said, and I could practically see her giving me a mock salute. I smiled as I finished running the comb through my hair and used the ponytail holder on my wrist to pull it into a loose ponytail. My mom and I are more like friends than mother and daughter sometimes. Sure, we get into fights, disagree, and Mom sometimes "pulls rank" on me, as I like to say, but we've still got a pretty great relationship.

I smiled as I walked over to my closet. My family is made up of three people. My dad, Julio, my mom, Rose, and me, Marista May Lidia, Risty May or Risty for short. We're the Fernandez...es. (Fernandi? Ugh.) My dad has one of those big CEO-type jobs that have him traveling around a lot. Because he makes a fairly decent salary, my mom was able to finish nursing school, then stay at home and raise me, which is probably why we're so close.

While thinking these thoughts, I absently pulled on peeling strips of the iron-print on my nightshirt. I stopped when I realized what I was doing, and held out my nightshirt. The large, upside down, grinning face of Edward Elric looked back at me, his headshot messed up by cracks and patches where the nightshirt showed through.

The nightshirt was a present from my best friend, Zoe, for my fourteenth birthday. She had spent hours and hours searching both the internet and craft shops looking for a Full Metal Alchemist iron-print, and then she ironed it on herself. And she hates ironing. I still think it's one of the most thoughtful gifts I've gotten. And I was supposed to be renewing my vow not to pick at the peeling parts.

I sighed and pulled the shirt over my head, grabbing a pair of jeans and a red shirt with a black stripe across the chest out of my closet. I reached out with my foot and rolled a pair of black mules out.

Five minutes later I was dressed and heading for the door. I grabbed my backpack off the bed, checked to ensure everything I wanted was inside, and left my room. I heard voices in the living room and aimed myself in that direction.

"Yes, but at least the paint covered it-heeey Risty May!" Zoe said, waving at me over the sofa. Her eyelash-length blond bangs fell in her face as she leaned over the sofa to wave at me. "Ready to go?"

I nodded. "We're gonna leave without breakfast, okay?" I told my mom, who was sitting in the armchair across from the couch.

Mom stood up, smiling. "Sure, but you shouldn't learn on an empty stomach. Think fast." She whipped two shiny projectiles at our heads. I fumbled but managed to catch my granola bar, and Zoe's nose did a good job of catching hers. She let it fall into her hand and got up, slinging her book bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, I'll see you this evening, Mom," I said, leaning over to kiss her cheek as we passed the armchair.

Mom hugged me with one arm. "Have a good day, sweetie."

"Bye, Mrs. F!" Zoe said as we walked out the door.


So, what happened at school? Nothing important. Class, lunch, tests, notes, avoiding that nerd who wants to ask me out-all in a day's work for a highschool junior.

Yes, I said junior. And yes, I know I'm only about to turn fifteen. I'm smart, okay? Back off.

Anyway, after school we went to our favorite cafe to scarf down coffee and Danishes while celebrating the approach of spring break. After getting an iced coffee, a chai, and a giant cheese Danish to share, we crammed into our favorite windowside booth and spread books and other junk all over the table. The Danish was put onto a napkin on the center so we could both pull pieces off.

"Just one more day until spring break officially starts," Zoe exulted, sipping her iced coffee.

"I'm glad," I sighed.

Zoe looked up at me. "Is this about that crying in math thing I was hearing about?"

I nodded miserably. We had gotten our quiz grades back today, and mine was a D, even after I had studied so hard. I worked really, really hard not to cry, and I managed not to make any noise, but some tears did fall. I heard a couple of giggles, got several sympathetic and empathetic glances, and even a couple encouraging pats on the back as we left. I'm unfortunately a bit of a crybaby.

"Well, don't let it get to you," Zoe told me after I related the embarrassing story. "People break down in Mr. Tyler's class all the time anyway."

"Yeah, but I cry over everything," I protested, moodily picking at a chunk of Danish in my hand. "I'm always called the crybaby or the waterfall or, my personal not-favorite, the water fountain. It gets on my nerves. But I can't help that I'm sensitive!" Even at that point tears were pooling in my eyes.

Zoe patted my hand. "Well, maybe you just need some time to learn to toughen up," she said, pushing her short hair behind her ears. "Don't get upset, okaaaay, Risty May?"

I smiled through my teary eyes. "Okay."

That evening...

EdwardsWife77: so did u get the e-mails i sent?
MistaMarista: well, there were a lot of them. any one in particular?
EdwardsWife77: yes! the 1 in all caps!
MistaMarista: oh, let me check. brb
MistaMarista: it's a chain letter, isn't it?
EdwardsWife77: yes but its a different one! plz look at it 4 me, plz?
MistaMarista: fine I will this one time
MistaMarista: mom's calling me, gotta go
EdwardsWife77: dont 4get to read the letter!

I sighed as I closed the Instant Message window, relieved that Mom had called me for dinner. My online buddy EdwardsWife77, or as I like to call her, Psycho Girl, was a giant Edward Elric fan, and she sent me many e-mails daily, all with links to websites, forums, pictures, or anything that was relevant to Full Metal Alchemist. Along with that was an unhealthily large dose of chain letters, which I almost always tossed before looking.

So, since I had said I would, I scrolled the list of letters-almost all from you-know-who-while marking the ones I wanted to delete. Finally I came across one that was titled "MISTAMARISTA YOU MUST TRY THIS" and sighed, clicking on it.

Are you a hardcore anime fan? Wish that sometimes you could join your favorite characters in their awesome adventures? Your wish is about to come true! Simply wish three times to be put in your favorite anime, and send this letter off to ten friends in ten minutes. If you wait longer than ten minutes, the wish will backfire! But if you send it in time, you'll wake up to the adventure of a lifetime!

I rolled my eyes. How many times had I seen chain letters along this track? As cool as it would be, I knew they didn't work. But I had given my word, basically, to the psychopath, and I had to uphold my word, if nothing else. So I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and clasped my hands, as if in prayer.

"I wish I was in Full Metal Alchemist," I said three times.

There was a moment's silence as I waited in that position, then lifted my head. Of course, nothing had happened. I smiled and shook my head as I pulled up my friendslist to send them the corny thing.

"Risty May! Dinner!" my mom yelled again.

I pushed back my chair. "Sorry! Coming!" I yelled as I jumped up and left the study, leaving the window up on the computer. I checked my watch and saw that it was 7:52.

So, what happened at dinner? Nothing really. Mom, Dad, and I talked about our days. Dad mentioned that he was going to an out-of-state conference tomorrow, and he'd be gone a few days. Mom said her book club was meeting again tomorrow. I broke the news about my bed grade, but they didn't fly off the handle, fortunately. Partway through my head started to hurt, but I ignored it and kept eating and talking. After a few minutes it got worse, and when I lowered my head and rubbed my temples, I noticed that my watch said 8:05.

"Risty May? You all right?" my dad asked worriedly.

"Just a little headache," I told him with a smile.

Mom instantly reached over and felt my forehead. "Hitting the books a little too hard?" she teased.

"Nah, I think I just don't feel good. Can I be excused?"

Both my parents nodded, and I got up, taking my half-empty plate with me. I dumped my food in the trash and put my dishes in the sink, then headed for my room. I figured I'd just rest my eyes for a bit as I flopped on my bed.

I woke up with a start and checked my watch. It was now 11:53. I rolled off my bed and opened my door. Everything was dark and quiet, so I knew Mom and Dad had turned in. I saw a light coming from the study and walked down the hall and into the room to investigate.

The computer was on, and the screensaver was running, and I realized I had left everything up. I sat down and moved the mouse, bringing up the windows, and remembered the chain letter. With a laugh I e-mailed it to my friendslist, re-titling it "An awesome waste of Time!" and then closed everything and turned the computer off. I stretched and yawned, then, as I stood up, my head suddenly became dizzy, and I had to sit back down quickly. I held my head, and then stood up again, slower this time. My head hurt again, but I walked back to my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

My head was spinning and hurting at the same time, and I couldn't figure out why it was suddenly acting that way. I laid down on my bed, hoping that a good night's sleep would make it go away. I laid on my side, eyes closed, waiting to fall asleep, but all that happened was my head hurt more and more.

Finally I opened my eyes and decided to get some aspirin. I sat up, and at that point I must have passed out, because I sure don't remember lying back down.

..send this to yer friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiends...ends...ends...or you'll die in an earthquake...ake...ake...ake...

Yeah, sometimes my dreams suck.

I shifted slightly as I slowly returned to consciousness. My head didn't hurt anymore, and I was quite relieved. I realized that I had been covered up and figured Mom or Dad had looked in on me after I fell asleep...er, passed out.

I cracked open an eye, and it was attacked by sunlight. I instantly closed it, frowning. I almost never opened my curtains. It was so I could avoid something like this. Had Mom or Dad opened them? If so, we needed to have a talk.

Once again, I cracked open my eye, and the sunlight happily stabbed it. I forced myself to tough it out, though, until my eye had adjusted some. Then I opened it a little more, and a little more, until finally it was completely open. What I saw made me open the other eye.

I wasn't in my room at all. It was some generically white room with nothing in it but the bed I was lying on, a small nightstand which had some red and black clothes folded up on it, and an open door leading to a tiny bathroom. I stared around, trying to figure out what was going on, and where I was.

"What on earth?" I said aloud, then gasped and clapped my left hand over my mouth. My voice wasn't mine. It sounded like a guy's voice.

Slowly, I lowered my hand. "This must be a dream," I said out loud, still shocked to hear my words being said in some dude's voice. "Testing, one, two, five...I guess I've decided to turn into a man in my dreams now." I reached up with my right hand to scratch my head, and frowned when I didn't feel it respond. Suddenly something very hard smacked into the side of my head.

"Ow!" I yelled, jumping. I whirled to glare at whatever hit me, but my anger faded away when I found myself staring at a metal hand.

"No way," I said slowly. "Automail?" I flexed each digit, then the hand, then the wrist, then the elbow, fascinated. "So now I'm a guy with automail?" I said incredulously.

That was when it dawned on me.

My voice wasn't just any guy's voice.

This weird panicky feeling was beginning to flutter in my stomach. I whipped back the covers with my flesh hand, and behold! I stared at one flesh leg and one automail leg. I flexed the toes on both, and suddenly noticed my hand. It wasn't small and light brown anymore, with nice nails and no blemishes. It was well-tanned, bigger, rougher. And the nails were a crime.

I swallowed as I began to pull up a list in my head. I reached back behind me for my hair, and instead of it being waist-length, and soft and silky like it's supposed to be, it was about half the length, and felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of saltwater over my head and let it dry. I pulled my hair in front of my face, and behold! Again!

It was blond.

This list was getting scary.

I scanned the room, and when I didn't see what I wanted, I hesitantly got out of bed and put my feet on the floor, standing. I had to put my arms out, because I felt so unbalanced. I could only feel one leg, even though I knew there were two. Slowly, I made my way into the bathroom, watching my feet so I didn't trip.

When I finally crossed the room and got inside the bathroom, I checked the walls and found what I was looking for-a mirror, hanging over the sink. I crept up to it, almost afraid to look. But I sucked up my courage, and swung around to face it head-on.

Oh...my...Holy. Schnikey.

I clapped both hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, and unfortunately banged my nose with the automail hand. My eyes weren't blue anymore. My face was no longer heart-shaped. And my ears weren't pierced. I wasn't Marista May Lidia Fernandez anymore. Instead, I was...I was...

Edward Elric.

, was all my brain could think to process. I hesitantly reached out with my left hand and touched the mirror, and my wide-eyed, shell-shocked reflection did the same.

O...M...Forget it. I'm nuts. I'm dreaming. I gotta wake up. This is not a cool dream! A cool dream would be me hanging WITH Edward Elric, fighting crime or something. A cool dream would not be me BEING Edward Elric!

I turned and ran out of the bathroom, but I misjudged my automail foot and tripped, falling-fortunately-on the bed. I scrambled off and looked for a way to wake myself up.

"Okay, let me think," I said, wincing when Edward Elric's voice came out of my mouth. "The last time I was in a dream and knew it and wanted to wake up, I had to, uh...oh yes! Cause myself a lot of pain!" It wasn't the funnest dream, so I ended it by stabbing myself in the eye with a pencil. Not cool.

I looked around for a pencil to stab myself with, but there wasn't one (which, in retrospect, I'm very glad for). Then my eyes fell on the nightstand. I stepped over and lifted the pile of clothes, realizing these must be my...er, Edward Elric's regular outfit. I slowly unfolded each piece and laid it on the bed, just to make sure.

Red hooded coat with flamel symbol: check.

Black jacket with metal snappy thingy: check.

Black tank top: check.

Uncomfortable-looking greenish-black leather pants: check.

Big giant brown belt: check.

White glove: check.

Other white glove: check.

Silver State Alchemist pocket watch: che-hey!

I picked the pocket watch back up and felt around it for the latch. When I found it I flipped it open and stared at the words inscribed inside. Don't forget, 3 Oct 10. I traced the words with a finger, noticing how real the metal felt against my Edward skin. In fact, everything felt real enough to be...well, real. If I wasn't so sure it was a dream, I would almost have thought...

"Whoa, there, sister," I said to myself, still not used to this...sounding like Edward thing. "Stop thinking fangirl. This is a dream." I closed the watch and put it on the bed, noting that Edward's boots were lined up on the floor next to the bed.

"Now, back to business." I sat on the bed and pulled the nightstand up to my knees. Holding it on either side, I braced myself, feeling the little warning bells you normally feel when about to do something painful. But I had to wake up, because this was too weird.


I banged my head against the surface of the nightstand. I stayed in that position, feeling the throbbing spread over my forehead, but I didn't wake up. I sat up and rubbed the area briefly. "Huh...must need to do it again," I said.


Still no wake up. The throbbing pain spread a little. I sat up again, not enjoying the pain. This was creepy, because I don't usually feel pain in my dreams. "This must be reeeeeeally vivid," I said, rubbing the sore spot again. "But I'm not staying. Once more."


Nothing, but the pain was worse.


The area started to get hot.


I was ready to quit. I sat up, wincing, and carefully rubbed the hot, sore spot. I checked my fingers, making sure I hadn't drawn blood. I hadn't, but you know that headache I was relieved was gone? Well, it had come back.

"Why am I not waking up?" I yelled angrily at the innocent, now dented desk. "This always works! Ugh!" I crossed my arms huffily, and my automail arm banged my chest.

"Oh, consnark it!" I yelled at the automail. "Must you hurt me?"

Apparently the door had opened while I was ranting at inanimate objects.


"GAHHH!" I jumped in surprise and fell off the bed, landing on my back. This did nothing for all the injuries I was acquiring.

I stayed where I was, afraid to move lest I bang my automail against my spleen or something. As I did, I heard a familiar sound of metal repeatedly meeting the floor. It didn't register until a mammoth suit of armor was leaning over me.

"Are you okay, Brother?"

I made the awesomest impression of a fish out of water at that point. My mouth gaped and closed at least seven times before I could form coherent syllables and make out his name. "Alphonse..." I managed.

"Are you all right?" he repeated.

I was about to correct him and tell him that I wasn't his brother Edward, I was Risty May, a mere fan of his brother Edward. But then I realized the situation I was in. I looked like Edward, sounded like Edward, and probably smelled like Edward.

In other words, I was a duck.

"Uh...I'm f-fine," I said, managing to get into a sitting position without banging any other part of my body with my right arm.

Alphonse sounded relieved when he spoke again. "You've been unconscious for a day," he said as he helped me to my feet.

"I...have?" I said, rubbing my sore forehead with my left hand.

Alphonse nodded. "What happened to your head?"

I could feel the heat on my forehead. "Uh...I tripped and hit it on the sink," I lied.

He bought it and moved on to another subject. "I was worried about you when I came after you. Oh...Brother?"

"Yeah?" I asked, looking up at him.

"You...when you said...you didn't mean what you said to the colonel, did you?"

I swallowed hard. What had I-I mean Edward-said? Was it bad? Did he hurt someone's feelings again? I could hear the hopeful note in Alphonse's voice and decided to air on the side of caution.

"No, of course not!" I said vehemently in Edward's voice, patting Alphonse's arm. "You, uh, know me better than that...Al!"

Al seemed to brighten. "Oh, good," he said. "You kind of scared me, you know?"

"Well, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," I said, smiling at him and feeling sooo weird.

"That's okay," Alphonse said. "I'm just glad you're all right now."

I nodded, though I knew I was anything but all right. I just couldn't believe I was sitting here, as Edward Elric, beside Alphonse Elric, and I had caused myself repeated pain and hadn't woken up. Then it meant I was already awake.

But that was IM-POS-I-BELLL! This was the kind of thing that would happen to Zoe, not me! She'd probably be really happy, too. But me, I barely believed this was happening. I didn't know what I should do. Zoe could come up with lightning-fast solutions, I was sure. But I was struggling to accept the fact that I had repeatedly banged my head on the table for nothing.

"Oh, you probably need to get dressed," Alphonse said, standing up. I glanced down at the clothes I had so neatly laid on the bed, then at the powder blue hospital gear I had on, and then back up at him. "Uh...right," I said, nodding.

Alphonse left, closing the door behind me, and my hands instantly went for the nightstand. But I stopped. "Probably no matter how much I bang my head on that stupid thing, I won't wake up." I eased my hands back into my lap. "For some reason, I'm Edward now. But why?"

Suddenly my mind whirled back to that chain letter that Psycho Girl had sent me. NO... I thought. There is NO WAY this happened because of that chain letter! I stood up and paced slowly. And even if it had somehow, which I seriously doubt it did, that doesn't explain why I'm Edward Elric. I wished to be in Full Metal Alchemist, not be Ed!

Yeah, my other half said. Think about it. What exactly did you say?

I stopped at the window. "What exactly? I said, 'I wish I was in Full Metal Alchemist' that's what I said," I said softly.

I wish I was in...wait...NO! NOT LIKE THAT! I put my hands over my face in distress, being extra-careful with the automail, staring at the sky through my fingers in shock. I MEANT THE SHOW, NOT THE PERSON! MY GOSH, WHOEVER OR WHATEVER DID THIS TO ME WAS BEING A LITERAL-FREAK! That is so unfair, and NOT funny!

I let myself stew on that for a moment, until something else came to my mind.

"If I'm here, as Edward," I said slowly to the sky outside my window, "what's happened to the real me?"

Zilo: What indeed?
Risty: How can you do this to me? I thought you were my friend (tears up)
Ed: And where am I while Risty May's off bodysnatching, huh? Huh?
Zilo: Chill, you two. That, my friends, will be answered next chapter!
Risty: What? How you can do this to me?
Zilo: ...Uh, no, Ed's question.
Risty: (tears break) Traitor!
Al: (comforts) Please review and return for the second chapter, everyone. It would mean a lot to Zilo.