Chimera

Alrighty then, I have votes for both sides, and they tied. My sis voted to continue this one and that's good enough. Thanks for your efforts and suggestions. A title was provided, and I modified it a little, but Mazoku_Onna gave me the idea, so thank you muchly! Alright, here we go.

You said forever and it didn't happen

Basically, we're gonna stick to the story line of the anime on this one. There are some manga references, but I’m trying my best here. Those who know will spot them easily and those who don’t won’t care. Hopefully. Rose leads Russell in and he leaves her outside the room to wait.

The door cracked open, letting in a sliver of light. Russell looked over his shoulder to make certain Rose was far enough back and opened it wide enough to slip in. The light was dim, and he could barely make out the faint outline of an array chalked on the floor. In the center, a child lay unmoving. The tall boy stepped forward carefully, going around the array lines to check for a pulse. A faint moan drew his attention to a body against the wall. He brought his hands up but no further noise was heard. Cautiously, he approached the second form, watching closely for movement. Nothing, it was a chimera, with small ears on his head, and yellow hair. "Edward? Edward Elric, is that you?" Not a sound. He knelt and rolled the creature to see its face. It was Edward and he quickly checked for injuries. Nothing obvious, but he must have hit his head and might be bleeding internally.

The tall blond slipped out the door, making certain Rose didn't see inside. "There's nothing there, they're gone." She moved to look for herself, "No, it's not pretty. Go find Fletcher for me please, I'll need him to help clean it up." She considered him carefully then turned and left quickly. By the time Fletcher had arrived, Russell had cleaned everything up and had settled the Elrics together on a blanket he made from Ed's coat. The two brothers dragged the smaller pair out and made a cart. They were aware that Ed was wanted by the military but they couldn't just hand him over. His hair was cut and the auto-mail removed. It was damaged anyways and easier to hide separately.

Al wasn't a problem, no one had seen him for over four years, and as long as they avoided Ressembool, they should be fine. Their first stop was to get some clothes and supplies before heading out. Fletcher had the idea to claim they were cousins and Russell made up the papers; they all looked alike and it allowed them to avoid close scrutiny. It took a week of walking to get to the small house outside Farigain, the one an aunt had left the Tringhams. The town only had a single shop but it was easy to integrate and the four kept to themselves, only coming in to do odd jobs and buy supplies. Both sets of brothers changed their names and settled in unnoticed.

While Al woke within hours, he had no memory past his age of ten years. He was confused, but took comfort in caring for his brother. Ed remained unconscious for a week but his coloring and ears marked who he was clearly. He woke up in a strange house with strange people, his senses overloading. Russell had to sit on him so Fletcher could sedate him, getting bit twice before the pills went down. He didn't remember anything; Russell, Fletcher, Al, Roy, his own name. Even alchemy was mostly lost, his understanding of how things worked and were composed gone. The habits remained, when he was upset or frightened, he clapped, instinct overriding everything, but he didn't know what was supposed to happen. The first time, he knocked himself off balance with only one arm and his auto-mail was fixed as best they could and replaced.

At first, he refused to eat, crying all day, not tolerating anyone around him. He talked constantly to thin air and ignored any attempts at conversation. Eventually, he gave in and ate sparingly, and then only meat. Russell lost his patience in the fourth week, striding in, dragging Al and Fletcher, and sitting down to eat with him, forcing him to endure the company. He chatted, ignored the growls, and started a routine. Everyday, for all three meals, Ed sat and ignored them. At least he seemed to, but his ears started turning and finally he faced the younger blonds for an entire meal. In time, Ed began talking to them. He had no idea who he was, why he was like this, who they were, or who he was crying for. He clung to his things; keys, a lighter with a flamel surrounded by flames etched on it, a silver watch, his red cloak, a slim book found in his pocket with the words "Happy Birthday, Ed, LRM" His words were halting, disjointed and difficult to understand at times.

His frustration often resulted in temper tantrums and he would clap his hands for hours, always without knowing what was supposed to happen. Nothing ever did but he kept doing it. His ears were completely off limits, even Al was growled at when he tried to touch them. He often went looking for something, a toy that he mumbled about while searching the house. Crying was a frequent thing; for no apparent reason, he would lock himself in his room and whine all day.

Al calmed him as best he could, cuddling and rubbing his stomach. He explained everything to him, who he was, who their housemates were, why he was part cat, as much as the little boy knew. Fletcher provided as many answers as possible about the recent years. In time, he was able to tolerate the young silver-eyed blond, but his aggression was often too much to fight where Russell was concerned. Al and Fletcher couldn't hold him back and it was decided the older blond would stay away until Ed was back to his human form. A month passed, then two. One morning, Ed showed up in the kitchen by himself, hungry and earless. He still didn't remember, but he was able to get along better with the other boys and they started a plan for them to live on.

The little alchemy shop started smoothly, low prices for basic alchemy. Their extra time was spent researching as much as possible and experimenting, learning about anything they could get their hands on. While Ed didn't remember and had to relearn everything, he could do the same alchemy as before, just by clapping and letting his concentration go. The others were fascinated that he didn't need to understand; things just changed the way he wanted them to. The hypothesis was that he still had his memories but couldn't consciously access them. Al's strength grew rapidly, surpassing Russell and Fletcher within a year, his memory unfailing and his talent for creation unmatched, even by his brother. Within three years, people from the entire area would come with commissions and their little business grew into a comfortable living for the four.

****************************************

Roy's life was hell. Since he'd kissed Ed goodbye that night, everything had gone wrong. His eye was gone and he was questioned daily on his role in the disappearance of the Fuhror. At first, he just ignored them, dull to everything except the pain in his chest. He finally started talking, hoping they would leave him alone. Every time he left the offices, his staff was there. Even Havoc, dutifully pushed in by Fuery, came by a few times a week. He stood straighter, gave more coherent answers, and regained his strength to stand for those who believed. The only witnesses were himself and his officers; he was promoted to ensure his silence and cooperation.

Hawkeye gave him daily updates on the search for the Elrics; nothing, nothing, nothing. A pair of blonds had been stopped, but they were brothers, Russell and Fletcher Tringham, and had had sick cousins with them, who didn't match the Elrics' descriptions at all. Plus, they had had papers to prove it and had been allowed to pass. The report was tossed aside and no one looked into it further. Roy chased them a little, but they disappeared and no other reports came in.

He started drinking, at first only at night to dull the headaches, then more to dull the pain in his chest, and finally all the time. Gold swam in the bottles and emptying one only meant another must be opened to not lose it. The smoking was the worst, even Havoc yelled at him for it. He always lit them with alchemy, half hoping to burn himself, too ashamed to use the silver lighter. He could almost hear Ed's voice telling him how gross it was every time he lit a new cigarette, and it only fueled his desperation; the next one, he might truly hear him with the next one.

His staff carried him through three months of an almost constant daze, before, finally, Havoc showed up at the door, followed faithfully by Fuery and Breda. Falman and Hawkeye stayed to run the office but both sent notes, politely but firmly requesting he get off his ass and back to work, sober. The notes burned quickly. Havoc finally lost his temper and threatened to get out of his chair and kick his ass himself unless he sobered up right the fuck now and got dressed.

Fuery held Roy's hair as he threw up while Breda made his hangover remedies. Havoc roamed the house and confiscated any and all tobacco products and alcohol, rummaging everywhere he could reach to find any hidden stashes. The only things he didn't touch were the prized silver lighter and a stuffed cat with chewed ears. They hauled him in and sat him at his desk, placing a pen in his hand and a stack of papers in front of him. Every evening, someone walked him home and stayed the night in the guestroom. A month and he broke, crying all night, screaming his rage and pain to the walls while Riza cried with him from the living room.

The next day, he started seeing him. A flash of gold that he chased around the corner, the flick of a red coat that was never there. When he stood in front of the mirror and fluffed his bangs to hide the scars, he could hear the mocking laughter and catty comments. At first, he always chased them, then less and less, until he just listened and prayed they were real. Several times a week, he would hear the doors slamming and the uneven stomping towards his office. He always put down his pen and listened, straining to hear Al's high pitched voice or Ed's loud shriek over an imagined insult. More often than not, Hawkeye would find him with his head down and just pat him and keep walking. She never said a word and he loved her a bit for that.

As the years passed, the hope faded and both brothers were buried with full honors, Al being deemed a valued part of the military, even if he had never technically enlisted. Roy didn't go, staying at home and drinking himself blind for the first time in two years. He showed up the next day, hung-over, exhausted, but sober and ready to sit quietly and work. He moved steadily, working calmly to keep the peace and was rewarded with more promotions; five years after the boys disappeared, he was awarded the title of General.

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Unrest was beginning in the West, bombings had occurred and political upheaval was in full swing. The largest city in the area had three candidates for ruler, all of which were eager and willing to do anything to win. Rush Valley was only an hour away and all trains passed through the main station.

The four blonds stood out; good looking, loud, obviously well off. They laughed and taunted each other, acting like brothers and were assumed to be such. The older two, the tallest and the shortest, were the loudest, fighting actively, but the younger held them back and ran interference with the locals. A small cafe seemed like a good place to wait for their connection, busy but that was usually indication of good food. They settled in, eating quickly between taunts, laughing at each other, chatting animatedly. Several heads turned to watch them and smile; it was rare to see such enjoyment of life in this area anymore.

Ed kicked Russell's chair, his leg was feeling good from its recent tune up and his shoulder didn't hurt at all. "You should grow your hair, hide some of that face. Bet we'd meet some nice girls if you did."

The taller young man stood and towered over the smaller alchemist, "Maybe if you grew a bit, they wouldn't be afraid of flirting with children." Ed leapt to his feet, a rant already starting when a small black ball rolled into the shop.

'What was' A light hissing sound triggered something from his lost memories, "Get down!" He fell to the floor, kicking out a leg to knock Russell down as he clapped and slapped his hands to the cement floor. The explosion knocked him back and his head hit the wall with a sharp crack.

A military squad was there in minutes to contain the scene and remove the injured to a hospital. There was only one death, an old lady sitting near the entrance. Among the injured was a blond fifteen year old male, with no papers or identification. The only thing he had was a card for an alchemy shop in Farigain. Witnesses stated he had been with three others but they couldn't be found. One witness claimed blue light had covered the bomb and saved them all; they decided he had a head injury and kept him for observation.


p.s. I'm putting Havoc in the wheelchair, it just works better for me that way. I'll think of a reason later. *grin* Sllaakkeerr