by. Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: 26 moments, one for every letter of the alphabet, that Ed and Winry share from childhood to adulthood.
Rating: T to M, for graphic descriptions, mild gore, sexual themes. It may definitely rise to M on some one-shots...just a forewarning.
Pairing: Ed/Winry; an assortment of others that will be revealed in due time...
Main Genre(s): Romance/Humor/Hurt/Comfort
A/N: Since I finished my Color Collection I decided to make an Alphabet collection for Ed and Winry! I've had this idea in my head for a while now and it merely blossomed when I visited the NejiTenten archive after a year of absence. I discovered there were about twenty Alphabet-prompt fictions for the pairing. I haven't see one for Fullmetal Alchemist yet so I decided to create one myself!
If you wish to create one as well, go ahead. I don't mind so long as the letter-prompts aren't the same as my own. Or if some of them are, at least don't make it seem too similar to mine.
And, I know I started this with their childhood but it won't go from childhood to adulthood necessarily. They'll skip around a lot, depending on the prompt I make for the letter! They might also not revolve around Ed and Winry, like this one does. This one is more Ed-centric.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any other media mentioned in this, and future, fanfiction. I make no profit from this.
A is for Alchemy
Edward peered through the crack of the door, watching the backside of his father as he slaved away to another one of those ancient tomes that made his nose itchy. His fingers gripped the edge of the door, pushing it out slightly and stopping when it made a creaking noise. His fathers writing paused momentarily before continuing and Edward thought he hadn't heard him.
"Edward, what is it?" Hohenheim asked softly, as the little boy froze and stepped back hastily, as if bothering his father was the highest crime. His father turned, a small smile on his lips. Edward felt that he was not in trouble, not by the kind look on his face, and was bold enough to step inside the study.
"Wha's that?" Ed asked, as he ran to the desk and tried to peer over the edge. He wasn't tall enough, however, and he had to hop in order to catch glimpses of his fathers work.
"Books," Hohenheim smiled, earning a pouty look from Ed.
"Noooo! Not that! That!" Ed leaped up and managed to grab a paper, to which his father promptly tried to get back but he was too slow. Edward observed the strange drawing upon the sheet: the perfect circle with odd symbols and lines running throughout the inside. He touched it with his fingers, tracing a line that looped around a strange asterisk-like shape.
"That is a transmutation circle, Edward." Hohenheim's voice startled Ed back to reality. He looked up at his father with wide, curious, eyes.
Ed stared back as if saying 'that's what I said' and Hohenheim chuckled, leaning down to explain the symbol to his eldest. Edward seemed fascinated by what he was saying and Hohenheim took this as a good sign, pointing to several symbols and explaining their significance in terms he would understand. But it didn't seem to matter much to Edward; he seemed to understand just fine even if he slipped up and use an advanced word.
"It is, basically, what you draw on the ground in order to create an alchemical reaction," he further stated. Hohenheim leaned forward, chair creaking with his weight, and grabbed a piece of chalk from his pencil box. He handed it to Ed, who took it with great care.
"You usually use chalk when you do this."
"And I draw it on the ground?" Ed asked, excitedly. "And then? And then!"
"Alchemy happens," Hohenheim smiled.
Ed frowned. "That's it?"
"Oh." Ed rolled the chalk over in his hand, deliberating his fathers words. "So nothing else happens?"
"Well, of course something happens. When something does happen, that is called an alchemical reaction: alchemy. Here, let me show you." Hohenheim took the chalk from Ed's hands and stood, towering over the boy. He kneeled and expertly drew the circle for standard transmutation, Ed's gold eyes following every movement with unabashed excitement.
He watched his father glance around for something.
"Edward, can you hand me that glass bottle over there?"
"This one?" Ed shouted, picking up the bottle that his mother had sternly told him to never, ever, open because there was bad stuff inside that would make him sick. He still wanted to try it, but his dad always drank it down before he could sneak some.
"Yes, bring it here."
Hohenheim took the bottle and placed it in the middle of the circle.
Ed held his breath, eyes widening with sheer awe when his father clapped his hands and slammed them on the ground. Energy crackled around the circle, illuminating the perfect lines a sky blue. The bottle suddenly seemed to melt – decompose, Ed remembered vaguely – and form into something else; something smooth and curved and shiny.
The crackle suddenly stopped and Hohenheim picked up a glass plate. He handed it to Edward for him to admire, watching his son carefully hold it in his hands. He brought it up to his face and looked through it, able to see a contorted image of his father from it.
He giggled, twisting the plate around as it made his father look funny.
"This is what you call Alchemy," Hohenheim explained. "It is the science of which all is composed of; the understanding of decomposition and re-composition of matter. What I did was deconstruction – deconstructing the bottle and reconstructing it into something else. This being a plate, for instance. But this theory can be applied to other objects as well. It can also be used singularly."
Edward nodded, squeezing the plate to see that it was, indeed, stable.
Alchemy. Alchemy had created this which he held in his hands. His father had created it, shared the secrets with him, and Ed felt a swell of pride well within him at being confided with such a huge secret. Even his mother sometimes wondered what he spent hours-on-end doing up in the study.
Now Ed knew.
It was alchemy.
"Now, then, out with you," Hohenheim shoo'd. "Before Trisha yells at me for teaching you this...honestly, that woman overreacts sometimes..."
Ed glanced back at his father once he reached the door, to his hunched body over the desk once more, and dropped his gaze to the ground; to the drawn circle on the floor which created this magnificent object he held in his hands.
That symbol was imprinted in his mind.
That word was burned into his memory; the science which kept his father chained down in his study for hours everyday.
"Edward!" Trisha called, climbing up the stairs and frowning when she saw her son brooding by his fathers study. "How many times have I told you not to bother your father? He is very busy and you shouldn't interrupt him!"
"Alchemy," Edward clarified, earning a look of surprise from Trisha. "He's studying alchemy."
"Right, and you shouldn't bother him while he's studying alchemy. Come downstairs to play with Alphonse while I go get the laundry...what's that you have there?" Trisha walked over to Ed, peering into his hands and taking the plate he held in them. "Oh. Where did you get this from?"
"Dad," Ed mumbled. He reached for the plate. "Give it back! Dad made it for me! Mommy!"
Trisha frowned, setting her hands on her hips as Ed jumped and tried to reach for the plate. He groaned into her apron, hands clutching the material. He slumped against her legs, as Trisha continued to mull over this small discovery.
"Honey?" Trisha said, hand atop of Ed's head as she wobbled to the study door. Ed tried to push her back but she was too strong, to his chagrin. "Is it true you made this plate for Ed?"
"Yes," came Hohenheim's meek voice. "I, uh, didn't you need some more? I once heard you complain about not having enough dinner plates because Ed and Al broke them a while ago..."
Trisha smiled in remembrance. "Oh, yes, I did, didn't I?"
"Mommy! Give it back! Give it back! It's mineee! Mom," Ed groaned, bottom lip jutting out. He felt tears start to sting his eyes. "Mommy! Give it back..."
"Oh, Ed, don't you start crying now." Trisha soothed him by patting his head. "How about we make this your special plate, hmm? Everytime you eat, you'll eat only on this one, is that okay?"
"Okay..." Ed sniffed, looking down to avoid further embarrassment. He was five and a big boy and big boys didn't cry over things like these. Only babies like Al did. Speaking of which..."Can Al eat on it, too?"
"If you want to."
"I don't want to."
"Why not? Alphonse is your brother, Edward, and you should share your things with him! He lets you play with his toys—"
"No!" Ed scowled, stubbornly. "It's my plate!"
Trisha sighed, smiling wryly as Ed hugged her leg. She gently pushed him away and returned the plate, watching her son hug it to his chest with a happy grin. "Go downstairs with Alphonse. And please, Edward, don't bully him! If he starts crying, I'll know it was you!"
"'kay!" Ed made the mad dash down the stairs, keen on telling his younger brother the wonders of alchemy and shoving it in his face that his father made him something but nothing for him.
Needless to say, that evening was spent with a sobbing Alphonse and a smug Edward.
Trisha solely blamed Hohenheim for his naivete when it came to children.