Dusty Road

I suppose I should have mentioned that this going to be a short story. Thus, I've left some details out that I would usually go into. Will I come back later and add on one day? Maybe...but for now, this is okay too.

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Man, I wish I could think of a weird quote. Crap. --Me. About ten seconds ago.
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That night, Edward Elric dreamed.

It was a quiet dream, not very mysterious at all. He was standing in front of Central Headquarters. He was light as air—seeming to float along the ground into the building. He saw many people he didn’t know and a just a few that he did. Havoc was leaning over a counter, talking to a pretty receptionist, his cigarette bouncing precariously as he talked. Fuery was there too, in a back room…perhaps an officers’ lounge. He was eating a sandwich, reading from a book at the same time. The young man pushed his glasses up with a mayonnaise-covered finger, leaving a white spot on the lens. He blinked away from it, scowled, wiped his hand on a napkin and irritably took off his glasses to clean them. Ed floated over to see what he was reading but he couldn’t make out the words. For some reason, he couldn’t make his eyes focus on them. He looked about.

Where was Mustang and Hawkeye?

Ed felt something like a sarcastic smile crook on his face. As much as the Colonel had annoyed the hell out him, he liked the man (or at least tolerated him). He could be an asshole sometimes, but he had good intentions.

He floated out into the hallways, passing a transparent man (perhaps he was dreaming too?) who looked remarkably like Hughes, but his dream self barely acknowledged him.

The scene changed. He was in Rizenbool, standing on the hill overlooking the river. His hands were in his pockets and he was smiling. Winry was down at the water, playing with her dog, Den. She looked up at him…but didn’t appear to see him. Ed felt the familiar clench in his chest that he always got when he thought of her.

Winry…

He felt the sudden urge to make her something. A surge of hope jumped into him. He could catch her attention. He could make something for her. A flower. A gift. Anything.

He took his hands out of his pockets and clapped them together.

Nothing happened.

He stared at his hands. That’s right…he couldn’t do alchemy anymore. His hope died. Despair took place of it.

“Ed…”

The scene faded, blackness replaced it.

“Ed, come on. Wake up.”

His eyelids fluttered. He sat up, rubbing and blinking his eyes. “What is it, Al?”

“It’s past dawn, you slept late. Mariah said she’d put some of breakfast aside for you.”

Ed looked at him. “You already ate?”

Al was dressed, his hair combed, looking very cheerful. “Yeah, you missed it. And Mariah hung your coat, shirt and socks up outside, by the way. She took your boots out there too.”

Ed couldn’t really process all of that yet. “What time is it?”

Al scratched his eyebrow, his grin spread further. “About ten in the morning.”

That woke him up. “Ten?!”

The younger brother laughed. “You must have been tired, Ed. What were you dreaming about?”

Ed gave him a wary look. “What do you mean?”

“You were talking in your sleep again. You were mumbling about Hughes and Hawkeye and then all of a sudden you went really stiff and you murmured Winry’s name.”

Edward looked away. He could never bear talking much about Winry much anymore. They could talk around her, or she might be included in a story Al told him, but she couldn’t be the exclusive subject. It made him edgy. He felt the catch in his throat that he couldn’t really explain. “I just dreamed I was back home.”

There was silence. Ed felt the wall that rose between them. It seemed to be growing these days.

They really were shadows of each other. Ed had turned into the solemn, more serious brother that Al had been when they were young. Al had become the more carefree and amusing brother that Ed had been just a few years ago. It seemed like a cruel trade.

Equivalent trade. The thought came rather darkly.

He could almost see how Al’s eyes would shadow with the ever-hated pity and he would draw, sadly, away. Not physically, no—but mentally. Ed was retreating into himself and he knew it. No matter how he tried to fight it, it didn’t seem to work. He needed to shake it off. He had to change things. He couldn’t do this to Al.

He turned back to him and gave him a sunny smile. “Let’s draw some Circles, Al.”

Al cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“Some transmutation Circles.”

Al looked even more confused. “But why? We can’t use them.”

“I know but it’ll be nice to see them again and we can’t forget how to draw them. You said you were homesick.”

“Well, a little…,” Al trailed off, still looking puzzled. “But I don’t see how—“

Ed pulled himself upwards and stretched. He kicked the blankets to the wall and then sat down on his knees on the cold stone. “Do we have any chalk?”

Al was looking at him as though he’d sprouted another head. “Ed, I do but what would it matter anymore if we forg—“

“Chalk?” Ed repeated. The smile barely touched his eyes.

“Yeah…,” Al murmured. He went to his little suitcase, drawing out a small, black bag. He opened this and pulled out a stick of white chalk. “Ed, I don’t—“

“Let’s see how many we can remember.”

Al gave up. He shrugged and sat next to Ed. He took out a piece of chalk and started to draw.

“Remember this? This is the one Tucker used. And this is the one the Colonel had sewn into his glove.”

Ed could feel Al’s eyes on him, probing and bewildered.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Both brothers jumped.

“Oh good, you’re finally—,” Mariah froze as she caught sight of the Circles.

“Hey, is ‘e awake yet? I’m gonna eat his eggs if he don’t hurry.” That was Altec, coming up behind her. He noted the strange silence and looked down. His gasp was very audible.

“What are those?” Mariah said, very quietly.

Ed and Al looked at each other.

“Nothing much,” Al told her, turning on his charming, sunny smile. “Just some circles. My brother likes to see how many designs he can come up with.”

Altec stepped around his wife, staring at the Circles and then taking a quick glance at Ed’s metal arm. When he looked back to Al and Ed’s eyes, his face was very serious. “You’re the Elric brothers, aren’t you?”

Al’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Ed narrowed his eyes, feeling his muscles tense up. “And if we are?”

“We’ve heard of you. How you traveled to another land where everyone has magical powers,” Mariah told them, stepping into the room.

“They’re not magical—“ Al started, cutting himself off abruptly when he realized what he was saying.

“So you are the Elric brothers?”

Ed glanced stonily at Al, who looked at him apologetically. “Yeah, we are,” Ed told them, standing up to face them.

“What is the magic that people talk about?”

“It’s not magic,” Al answered.

“Than what is it?”

“You wouldn’t believe us even if we told you.” Ed crossed his arms, feeling hostile.

“Try me,” said Mariah, a twinkle in her eye.

Ed smiled. He closed his eyes, just smiling and shaking his head. Amazing how word had spread of Edward and Alphonse Elric and their traveling from one land to another and the mysterious magical realm. Ed had been recognized once or twice before, but hardly anyone ever spoke to him. The ones that did, asked him all sorts of questions and if he answered them, they walked away shaking their heads. They hadn’t believed him, just like poor Alfons Heiderich from Germany hadn’t.

But, hey, what was an old woman and her husband?

So he did. Ed invited them to sit on the blankets and he told them the entire story. Well, almost the entire story—well, actually, not really much of the story at all, he left so much out. He told them about alchemy, the Philosopher’s Stone, transmutation Circles, the war, the State Alchemists, and the human transmutation that ended with Edward being stuck in Europe. Then he spoke briefly about the battle that had evidently made him a weird rumor, only believed by those who were obsessed with things like government conspiracies and UFOs. He finished with the strange Gate that his father had opened to take him home and his forced decision to return to close the Gate.

When he finished, the old couple stared at him.

Edward’s face was flinty.

“That is very interesting,” said Mariah. She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “I’d be interested in hearing more.”

“Would you still like your eggs?” Altec asked him. “Though I s’pose they’re cold by now. I like cold eggs.”

The thought of cold, runny eggs made Ed’s stomach turn. “Go ahead.”

Al was staring at the old woman. “You believe us?”

Mariah shrugged. “Why would you lie?”

“Very funny,” Edward grumbled. He stood up. “I’ve heard that one before.”

Mariah merely looked at him. “Are you two in a hurry?”

She wasn’t making much sense.

Al answered. “No, not really.”

The old woman pushed herself, with some difficulty, to her feet. “Would you boys be willing to stay and fix the roof for me?”

They stared at her.

“There are supplies,” she continued, seeming oblivious of their bewildered looks. “Forest right across the road for wood. Altec has a little shack in the backyard that has tar and shingles. He and I are just too damn old to be on the roof. But, you know, we’re not charging you to stay here and eat our food.”

“Fixing a roof is a bit much, isn’t it?” Ed crossed his arms again, muscles bunching up, eyes angry.

“Not if you stay here a few more days. We’ll keep you fed and give you a place to sleep for free if you’ll agree to fix the roof.”

Ed cocked on eyebrow at her. “Are you serious?” He was looking at her as if she’d grown a third arm and was ripping out her eye. He looked at Al.

To his surprise, his younger brother looked interested. He glanced at Ed. “It wouldn’t be that bad. We’ve done this sort of thing before. We’re not in a hurry, after all.”

Ed looked away from him irritably. “Fine, I guess, whatever you want, Al.”

Al smiled a little. He nodded. “We accept. Although, I will assume you’re doing this because you want to hear more of our story.”

Mariah smiled. “Yes, of course. That is the main reason. No doubt you’ve left some things out. We really do have a terrible roof, though.”

“I’d be interested as well,” Altec said. He had disappeared into the hall again. “In the story, I mean. Not in the roof—although fixing that would certainly be a perk. I’d rather have a damp day with an intriguing story than a dry day that’s lonely and quiet.”

Al nodded, seeming very satisfied with this. “Well, we may as well start today then.” He stretched happily and unbuttoned the shirt Ed had picked up for him when they’d left Munich, stripping it off and leaving him in a tank top.

And so, Altec led the brothers upstairs and outside. (Ed declined breakfast again, the thought of food still making him a little nauseous.) The day was sunny and the sky a crystal clear blue. The night’s rain and morning’s dew had already dried but the grass still felt fresh and cool under Edward’s bare feet. They walked around the back of the house and saw two structures. One was a squat little building that looked to be in slightly better condition than the house. It was, Altec explained, the stall for their horse, the only mode of transportation they had. Of course, both of them were too old to ride, so they merely kept the animal fed on grass and let it wander about sometimes. The other was a little shack (that looked remarkably similar to the house) that neither brother had noted the stormy night before. Inside of it was, indeed, tar and shingles.

“I bought all of these things about twenty years ago,” Altec explained. “But then I lost my job. I was a construction worker in the city. I hurt my back. So me an’ Mariah moved out here.”

“You bought all this twenty years ago?” Al asked, amazed.

“Just in case,” the man replied, his brown eyes crinkling up in a smile. “I was cautious when I was young; always trying to think ahead. But after I hurt my back, I could hardly work anymore. I managed to build this house. My brother helped me but he’s long dead now. I haven’t been able to get up there.” He reached around a tall stack of warped wood (that would be useless to them, Ed noted) and, with a hefty effort, pulled out a large ax. Al immediately relieved him of it.

“Thank you, Alphonse.”

“Just Al is fine.”

“Thank you, Al.” The old man smiled. “I’ve got another ax like this in here. We’ll have to chop down a tree to get new wood for the walls.”

“The walls?” Ed looked at the man suspiciously. “I thought we were just fixing the roof?”

“May as well sturdy the walls while we’re at it. And we’ll need to replace the boarding in the ceiling to support the roof anyway.”

Ed felt every muscle in his shoulders go rock hard. He scowled but kept his mouth shut when Al shot him a reproachful glance.

The old man smiled cheerfully at him.

Ed glared coldly back. However, he stepped around the old man, taking out the other heavy ax and hefting it over his shoulder. He turned on his heel and stomped back to the front of the house, tossing the ax in the grass and mounting the porch. His clothes were hanging on the railing, his boots on the floor beside them. He pulled on his white shirt, rolled up the sleeves, and then sat down to pull on his boots and socks.

“You sure are a strange young man.”

Ed glanced over at the old woman, who was leaning against the doorframe. He scowled. “You should probably open all the doors and windows so they place will air out and dry faster. We should probably remove the breakable stuff either outside or downstairs too.”

The woman ignored him. She hobbled over to an old rocking chair and sat in it with a creaky groan. “I’m glad your brother isn’t like you.”

Ed stiffened and slowly turned an annoyed glare on her. “That makes two of us.”

“You left a lot out of your story.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Then hopefully you’ll be here a while. I like stories.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. I’m glad for you.”

"That makes two of us.”

Ed sighed irritably and looked away, tying a double-knot in his laces.

“What did you think of airplanes the first time you saw them?”

Ed felt his anger suddenly evaporate; replaced by something he couldn’t quite name, not quite nostalgia, not quite sadness but some strange place in-between. “I thought they were amazing…until I was crushed by one.”

“Is that how you died when you said you had come back through this Gate thing?”

Ed winced at the question and stood up. Silently, he went down the steps and picked up his ax. “I should get started.”

Behind him, the old woman smiled, a little sadly.


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