Dusty Road

Again, usually I would take a lot more time with a story like this. But, this is a short story, after all. There's only going to be five or six chapters. So. Yeah.

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In order to find his equal an Irishman is forced to talk to God! Stephen--Braveheart
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They started the walls of the house first, as it would be the messiest and hardest job. It took them the better part of two months. Mariah moved all their possessions into the basement while Ed and Al, with direction from Altec, stripped the roof completely away and replaced the boarding in the walls.

It was a tough job and the work was difficult, especially when they had to take down a tree for more wood.

“I kind of wish Major Armstrong was here. He’d just punch through these trees,” Ed had told Al one day, stopping a moment to rest and wiping sweat from his forehead.

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d say something like that,” his brother had laughed.

“The guy was nice enough but I could never get used to his…”

“Sparkles?” Al prompted.

“Enthusiasm,” Ed said instead, rather delicately.

Al had laughed again, raising his ax to take another swing at the thick tree.


After they downed a tree, they had to tie ropes around it and haul it from the woods and across the road to the front yard of the Vandermark house. Altec could not help them with this; merely direct them. It seemed to grate on the old man’s nerves that he could do very little. It was lucky that Ed and Al were used to difficult, hard work. Izumi had been a merciless teacher and they had grown stronger then the average man. However, it would still take them almost a whole day (sometimes two) to get a tree and usually another few days to strip the tree, another for the actual cutting and then a few more to prepare the wood.

And there was always the chance that they would be set back by the weather. They were lucky in that the storms weren’t frequent and if they were coming from the south, west, or east they were easy to spot from far off—as on the side of the road it was flat plains—and they could quickly cover their work to protect it from rain. North of the house though there was the forest, so it was harder to spot and they had to keep a careful eye if it was suspiciously cloudy in that direction, the temperature cooled suddenly or the wind abruptly dropped

It was hard, draining work but Ed enjoyed it. While he liked scientific pursuits and furthering his knowledge, he liked being able to make his brain take a backseat and only think of work. It was a well-needed break from his almost constant brooding. When they would stop work for the day, usually after the sun went down, Ed would be dirty and covered in sweat but he felt surprisingly good. He was more relaxed, he slept better and he was often so exhausted that he didn’t even dream.

Al noted the difference as well and made so much as to comment on it one day as they were nailing boards together on the southern wall.

“You know, Edward,” Al started, pausing—hammer still raised—to glance at him. “You’ve seemed a lot better lately.”

Ed had smiled to himself. “I feel better when I’m working.”

“Work out tension, huh?”

“Something like that,” Ed had murmured, setting his mallet down a moment to strip off his shirt (which could hardly be considered white anymore).

“Oh my,” came a saucy call from somewhere in the house. “Its pity I’m married with such a handsome young man stripping off his clothes.”

For some reason that struck Ed; he burst out laughing, sitting down on the grass to close his eyes at the sky, chuckling loudly. Al stared at him, an incredulous grin crossing his face. He sat down next to Ed, who was wiping his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh like that in a long time.”

Ed looked at his brother, grinning and shaking his head. “I dunno. That just—,” he snickered again, wiping his eyes. “That just struck me funny for some reason.”

“That’s good,” Al murmured, a real smile on his face.

Ed put his forehead in his hand, smiling softly. “Makes me miss Winry.”

Al straightened as if he’d been stabbed in the back, losing his smile immediately. A look of disbelief dominated his face. “It makes you miss Winry?”

“Yeah, that almost…sounds like something she would say if she were an old woman,” Ed said, well aware that this was the first time he’d ever brought up Winry to Al and feeling odd that it didn’t hurt as much. It made him feel almost nostalgic.

Al was silent for a moment. He smiled. “Well, that’s good.” He stood up. “We should get back to work; we can finish this wall before dark.”

Ed looked up at him from the ground, putting a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He didn’t say anything. He merely smiled back and nodded.

After they finished with the walls, they went to the flooring, strengthening it, renewing it, and resealing it. Then they moved to the open ceiling, rebuilding it and setting the roof to peak to create a tiny attic. This job was a little tougher. Ed and Al had experience, yes (they had had to work several odd jobs to keep themselves going), but not bunches and Altec directed them on what they didn’t know from the ground. And despite Altec’s words, he really couldn’t hear all that well.

Ed hardly felt resentful about working for this old man and his wife anymore. He felt good to be doing something. He used his muscles, he used his skills, he honed his mind and it strengthened and raised his spirits. He even began to look forward to a hard day’s work. It made him feel satisfied at the end of the day as the house transformed itself into something new and bright. They worked almost every day except for Sunday and Ed even enjoyed the days he rested. He would often go out to take a walk. He would roll his sleeves up and unbutton his shirt, walking through the long grasses of the plains. The wind felt wonderful against his bare chest and he would lean his head back and revel in the gentle caress or whipping force the breeze threw at him. He preferred the wild winds to be honest. He could throw his arms out and let it wash over him as his shirt billowed around him and suddenly; he would be young again, flitting with Al and Winry through Rizenbool. He felt free. He would grin and, sometimes, in burst of exuberance, he would run through the grass as if he were eleven years old again. He would breathe in the scent of fresh air and clean grass and just feel good. Sometimes he would stay out for hours and come back as the sun was going down, feeling refreshed.

Other times, he would join Al in the tiny stable. The two of them (especially Al) had become rather attached to the horse there. Mariah had only managed to get it just a few years ago, when it was still a foal, from a band of passing gypsies who couldn’t care for it. She told them that she hadn’t actually named the animal, she always just thought of it as Horse. So, Al had designation the horse as Noat and he was intent on learning to ride him. Mariah helped him with this as much as she could but, like Altec, could only direct from the sidelines. So Ed made an effort to be there when Al wanted to ride the horse, that way he could help control it if things got out of hand (which sometimes they had, usually leaving Al with a bloody nose and some bruises). At first, the horse had seemed to hate the both of them and, as the horse didn’t get much exercise, he was a little slow and lazy but stubborn and hot-tempered. However, as Ed and Al continued to work with Noat, with Mariah’s help, he grew stronger and faster and soon Al could be seen in the distance, galloping through the plains. He must have felt the same freedom that Ed did when he took his walks because when Al returned he always had a joyful grin on his face.

Sometimes on Sunday, Altec or Mariah would ask them to go to a village for supplies. There was, they informed them, a small town about five miles further down the road. So Ed or Al would take Noat (or sometimes, if they wanted to make a day of it, they would go together and walk) and go into town with a list. Usually it was nails they needed or a new whetting stone for the axes and there was always food on the list. Ed had been confused at first when Mariah had first asked him to go and then handed him a bag with a few homemade quilts and a bolt of homespun white cotton.

She had smiled. “We have little money, as you can see. The people in the village use money...but most of them know us. They allow us to trade instead..."

Ed had said, “Oh.” And left it at that.

He and Al were well received in the village. Al more so than Ed, initially (especially by the younger village girls), because of his disarming way of interacting with people and his boyish smile. Ed had had a harder time, at first, but as he got to know the villagers they warmed up to him and called him by name when he came in on Noat. Once a man, a baker and a good friend of Altec’s, and his young daughter (a fifteen-year-old who had a habit of making Al blush) had stopped him in the street and told him how good it was of him and his younger brother to help out the Vandermarks so much. Ed had been uncertain what to do with this. He awkwardly thanked him, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable, and dodged the girl’s question of whether or not Al would be coming into town next Sunday, making up an excuse of being in a hurry (of course, when he got back he teased Al mercilessly about it and tweaked his cheek, asking him in a fluttery impression of the girl if he would be coming into town next Sunday—and just for the record, he did, but he made Ed accompany him. Of course, it didn't stop Al from running away in terror and refusing to tell Ed what had happened when he'd heartlessly left him inside the shop.


And there she came, the baker's daughter, who's eyes went wide when she saw Al. He froze. She smiled coyly. "The usual, right?"

He looked at her. Okay. That was normal. All right. "Uh...yes. Yes."

"Well, come with me then. Father's out and I get to watch the shop, so you can come back and see the kitchen with me."

And with that she grabbed his hand, looking slightly mischevious, and pulled him through a swinging door into the warm kitchen. She ducked past the ovens though; or, rather, between one of the giant ovens and a huge bowl for mixing.

"The bread--?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. The breads are cooling right now." She backed him against the wall.

"Ah...so...then...I'd best take it...uh..."

"It's too hot right now," she told him, moving into him.

Alphonse stiffened, pressing up againt the wall. "Wh-what are you doing!?"

"It's an opportunity. Come along, Alphonse."

"Eh. Uh. S'kinda warm in here and I, uh...I don't think--I mean, I need to get back, my brother is waiting."

"It's suppose to be warm. Though it might help if you didn't wear that coat all the time." She was suddenly pressing closer, putting a hand on his chest.

His breath caught in his throat and he stared at her, eyes the size of saucers, and having no idea what to do.

"There are hardly any boys here, you know? You'll be staying for awhile, won't you?

"Ah, well...I don't really know..."

"Best make the most of it then." She pressed closer to him, sliding her hand from his chest to his hip and using her other hand to lift his own, placing it just under her collarbone. "Just relax. Everything's okay."

"I...I don't think I should be doing this. I mean. I'm not much good in this department. Um." He was suddenly all to aware of her hand on his hip, sliding down his thigh. He jerked when she moved, firm and hot.

She pressed against him now, forcing his hand down to her breast, to which he tried further to back into the wall. Oh, at any other moment in the whole world, he wished he could use alchemy.

He yelped when her hand traveled, touching him through his pants. "Ah! Wait a second!"

But she didn't, stroking him. His vision blurred for a moment; her body hot against his, her skirts russled, his hand against her breast and she began to rub now. He felt a searing hot feeling sweep through him.

He panicked.

"Ah! Ihavetogo!"

He ducked from her, running full blast, tripping over his own feet, getting up, slamming into the swinging door and met the floor again.

"Alphonse! Are you all right?" Her father had come back but he didn't care. He scrambled up, running for the door, bolting out.

Edward had expected Alphonse to come out--maybe irritated--but not like demons were after him. "Al! Hey! What's wrong--?!"

But his brother was running down the road. By the time Edward caught up to him, Alphonse had mounted the horse. "Al! Al, what happened?! Where's the bread?"

But Alphonse only looked at him, wild-eyed and took off, leaving Edward to walk the file miles back to the house.

His younger brother never did tell him what happened.

After finishing work on the house, they moved on to the shack and eventually, the tiny stable. By the time all was said and done, almost seven months had passed, just in time for mid-September.

And through all this, Mariah hadn’t asked Ed about their story once since that first day on the porch. She never brought it up, hinted at it, or mentioned it. Ed was beginning to think she’d forgotten all about it. But on that breezy day in September, when they realized all their work was done, the four of them stood in the front yard, smiling.

“You boys did a wonderful job,” Altec told them.

“Hey, if you hadn’t been there to tell us about the roof, we never would have finished,” Ed reminded him, smiling awkwardly.

“And we were miserable with preparing the wood from the trees.”

Altec put his hands on his hips and looked up. “Yeah, you were, weren’t you? Still, you’re both quick learners and you’ve got our horse to run and the villagers really like you.” He winked at Al and Ed laughed when he looked away.

“Now, how about we have something good for dinner?” Mariah asked them, hugging herself and shivering.

“Are you cold, Mariah?” Al asked, glancing her at. He looked puzzled a bit, as the day was breezy, yes, but quite warm.

She smiled. “Bit sick, I’m afraid. But that is no matter. After supper, I would like to hear the rest of the story, including all the things you left out.”

Ed went cold; his stomach seemed to drop right out of him. He had hoped to avoid this. He’d prayed that she would forget. The look she was giving him was very serious. It had been part of the deal. Equivalent trade.

Or not, said the dark, sneering, angry voice in him. You’ve helped fix up a house, a shack, and a stable, helped train a horse and run errands, in exchange for a place to sleep and eat and as if that wasn’t enough, now she wants to hear about all the little things you left out because they were none of her business.

However, a deal was a deal, and Edward—however reluctantly at the moment—was a young man of his word. He nodded, turning his eyes downward.

Dinner was a little nicer than usual, as all their work was now finished but it tasted like ash to Ed. His throat was dry and his flesh hand had gone icy cold. They finished all too quickly. And after Al had cleared the table and Ed helped him wash the dishes (it was their night, after all) Mariah went into the tiny sitting room and placed herself comfortably in a ragged chair. Altec followed her, sitting close to her on a couch. The two of them looked almost secretive, as if they knew something the brothers didn’t.

Ed took a deep breath. Al poked his shoulder. “I don’t think this will be such a bad thing, Ed. I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to, Al.”

“Ed, I’m not a kid anymore. I can share the burden too.”

Ed looked at him for a moment. He was right, naturally.

Suddenly, an image of Winry popped into his mind. The clench in his chest returned for a split second and then he forced it away.

He walked into the sitting room. Al sat on the couch, and Ed carried in a chair from the combination kitchen/dining room.

Again, Edward stared at the older couple. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to start but his tongue had dried up, the lump in his throat making it hard to swallow.

Mariah coughed, sounding hoarse. Altec absently patted her back.

Ed looked at the floor, leaning over in his chair, setting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. How to start?

He ended up not having to.

“It began when our father left and our mother died.”

Ed jerked upwards. Al had begun the story. His face was stony and brave. His eyes were hard, staring at nothing as he related their past. And unlike Ed, he left nothing out. Their attempted revival of the dead, the loss of Ed’s limbs and his own body, auto-mail, more details about the war, their friends in the military (the Colonel, Hawkeye, Fuery, Havoc, Scieszka, and Hughes [and the conspiracy he’d discovered and then been murdered for doing so] and several others), everything about Winry (Ed had left her out almost entirely), their teacher; Izumi, Scar, Nina, Greed (and the manner in which he’d died), Wrath, Sloth (and her impersonation of their mother), Pride, Lust, Gluttony, Envy, and Dante. He told them of the revelation about their father and the Philosopher’s Stone. He told them about each battle that he could remember and how the Homunculi were created. He told them about Ed’s blood and touch activating the Circle in Munich. He continued long into the night. Mariah, still coughing, and Altec were alert for the entire duration of their story.

And hours later, when it was finally finished, Al sighed and seemed to sink into his chair. Ed was rubbing his temples, feeling exhausted. He just wanted to go to sleep. Sink into sleep and get the hell away from all this. He’d done so well at getting away from it. He’d felt better the past few months than he had in years and now it was evaporating, slipping through his fingers.

Altec studied him. “You said you destroyed the Gate. Would it ever be possible to make another?”

Ed answered this, digging his fingers into his hair. “Yes, it would, but by equivalent trade you have to sacrifice something for it. And creating a Gate is too big a risk.”

“Well, creating one from my side is what created the problem, because then anyone could come through. If it had only been made from your side; it would have been fine. It would have been a one-way ticket, which was Dad’s intention in the first place. He’d only wanted to send you through, not those troops, and that would have been fine because the Gate would have closed on its own.”

“But we’d still have to sacrifice something. In order to send me back, Dad got himself killed by Envy and you told me how Wrath forced Gluttony to murder him in exchange to open the Gate on your side. And when I came back from London, it was because I traded the life of the boy Dad was living with. The Gate closed when I came back from that. Having both Gates open seemed to…lock it or something because we were both able to go through the Gate with that woman when I came back here and nothing happened to either of us. I had to go back and destroy it while the Colonel destroyed the one on the other side to ensure no one from this world could ever just walk into our world and vice versus.”

“So,” said Mariah, very carefully, pausing a moment to cough. “Gates opened from either side at around the same time cancel the effects of equivalent trade, except for the creators, who must either sacrifice a life or transmute themselves, correct?”

“That’s what it seems,” Al told her. You could almost never be one hundred percent about alchemy.

“But not only would that be nearly impossible to time, but incredibly risky and very dangerous for both worlds. However, opening a Gate from one side, like that Dante woman did when she sent Ed to London, is, as you put it Al, a ‘one-way ticket’. But you must still sacrifice a life—because of this equivalent trade—to get through. And after you do open a Gate and make it through, the Gate closes on whatever side it was opened on. When you were in London, you couldn’t just go back. You were killed by the falling plane and were able to catapult yourself through the Gate, unintentionally trading the boy’s life for yours.”

“That’s what I assumed.”

“But if that is true—how did that Dante send Ed through the Gate without trading a life when he went to London?”

Ed shrugged. “The Circle Dante used to control the Gate appeared on the Rose’s baby and I was taken through…but the baby lived. She didn’t have to make a sacrifice but we do, which is why I will not create another.”

Mariah raised her eyebrows, silently asking for an explanation.

“I got Al his body back. I don’t care if I have to live with this metal arm and leg the rest of my life. I will not sacrifice him or, hell, for that matter, myself to go through that Gate. It’s not worth it.”

“But wouldn’t you like to go home?” Altec asked, patting Mariah’s back again when she coughed.

Ed gave a miserable smile, transferring his gaze to the floor. “Of course I would. I used to dream about going home when I lived in Munich and London. Hell, I dream about it now. But I won’t sacrifice Al to do so and what would be the point of trading myself?”

“I wouldn’t allow it,” Al said firmly, his mouth a tight line as he shook his head. “If he couldn’t come back with me, I’d rather just stay here.”

“I feel the same,” Ed muttered. “We’ve just tried to make this world our own.”

“But I’ve been a little homesick,” Al admitted, smiling sheepishly. “Makes me feel about twelve again. I’m a little old for that sort of thing.”

“On the contrary,” said Mariah. She smiled warmly at Al. “I used to get homesick when I traveled for too long. You both are rovers, but not necessarily by choice, I can imagine that sometimes you want nothing more than to see your friends.”

Al smiled back and nodded. Ed frowned and glared at the floor.

“You said this Gate was created in Munich?” Altec asked quietly. He leaned on his elbow, looking curious.

Al nodded. “Yeah, by the Thule society, it’s quite a ways from here.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been to that part of Europe,” Mariah added, a mischievous smile forming on her face.

Ed perked immediately, fixing them with a glare. “What are you suggesting?”

“Well, I’ve got a sister who lives near there. We haven’t traveled from here in years but listening to you boys makes me want to stretch my muscles again.”

“Absolutely not,” Ed said firmly, with a bite of anger. He couldn’t believe they would even suggest such a thing. “I won’t take you on a sight-seeing tour. I hate that place.”

“Does it scare you?” asked Altec, a hint of challenge in his eyes.

“No,” Ed snapped, feeling anger roil, hotter and heavier, in his stomach. “I destroyed the Gate, there’s nothing to see.”

“You destroyed the entire building?” Mariah asked, lifting her eyebrows. “Bit overkill wasn’t it?”

“He closed the Gate and destroyed it, not the building,” Al put in.

“Shut up, Al.”

Al blinked and looked at him.

Ed glared. “I don’t know why the hell you would want to go see that place except to rub in what I failed to do because I was too damn stupid to see it earlier. That Eckheart bitch attempted to bring war to our world. I would never risk that again.”

Altec and Mariah both sat up straight. Mariah coughed and then turned a very severe look on him. “I am not asking you to create a Gate, boy. I just want to see the place. I was a wanderer once. I’m interested in mysteries. I have no interest in seeing the other side of this Gate if you have to sacrifice yourself. You shouldn’t make such blatant assumptions about people. My husband and I asked you to stay with us because you seemed like good young men with a lot of bad memories. Working here has been a break for you, I can tell. You are the way you are right now because you’re talking about your past but for the last seven months you have changed. I’ve noticed, Altec’s noticed, your brother has noticed, even the villagers noticed. We have attempted to give you a respite from the world; a chance to help yourselves. Yes, we asked you to work. Yes, it seemed a small exchange—food and board in exchange for all the fine work you did but you both seemed a lot happier than you were when you showed up on our doorstep one stormy night. I am not a witch or an alchemist or anything. I have no powers like that. I’m an old woman with a bad cough and a curious mind, that’s why I’ve asked you to relate your story to me. I have never heard anything like it. I merely want to see this place before I die, just once, to get a taste of something I wish I’d been there to witness. After that, leave us. We’re not forcing you to stay. If you take us there, I will never ask another thing of you and you can be on your way. I will attempt to give you something in return if I can—“

“That wouldn’t be necessary,” Al said, sounding timid and shaking his head.

“Al!” Ed barked. “We’re not—“

“What harm would it do, Ed?”

“I won’t—!“

“Than I will. She’s right. They’ve done a lot for us. We owe it to them.”

Ed could practically feel his eyes popping out of his head. “We do not owe them. We fixed up their house, retrained their horse, and ran their errands. We’re being used, Al!”

Al looked at him sadly. “Maybe so…but we enjoyed it. It has been a break for us. I haven’t seen you smile or laugh so much as you did here. We enjoyed learning to ride the horse and teaching it to respond to us. You even said you liked the work. We never had a problem running errands. It was fun, going into the town.”

Ed couldn’t respond to that. All of it was true. He swallowed the unease that crested over him. “Fine. Fine. But it won’t be comfortable. It’ll take us days to get there and we’ll have to walk miles to find a train station. And we’ll—“

“That’s fine with us,” said Altec, turning on one of his cheerful grins. “We’re adventurous. Watching you boys makes me feel young again.”

“But you’re not,” Ed shot back. “You both are old and if you die—“

“We’re not that old,” Altec cut it.

“You must be in your damn seventies or eighties.”

“True,” agreed Altec. “But who says that that’s old? It’s just a matter of perspective.”

“Perspective?!” Ed stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t fix up your own roof—you can’t even climb a ladder and you expect to make it to Munich?! You can’t even—“

“Goodness, Ed, why don’t you write us out a list of all the things we can’t do—you being so knowledgeable about it and all.”

There was no bite in Mariah’s voice but Ed’s mouth snapped shut all the same. Suddenly, he was forcibly reminded of his days as a State Alchemist…where it seemed that he'd always failed.

He took a deep breath, leaning over to stare at his knees, putting a hand to his forehead to keep his hair from his eyes. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. “Fine,” he said, his voice husky. “Fine. I’ll take you there. Just to see the place. That’s it. Then we’re gone.”

“Absolutely.” The Vandermark couple smiled.

It took three days to prepare themselves for the trip. They closed and locked up the house and Al took Noat into town to let the baker’s daughter take care of him (only just managing to escape her with a kiss on his cheek). Mariah packed a little satchel for herself early in the morning on the first day and then disappeared into her room until they left on the third day. Altec did much the same, hobbling about. The two of them seemed in very good spirits about the whole thing. Al seemed neutral but Ed could feel the pit in his stomach.

He didn’t want to go back to that miserable place, not at all.

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Author's note: I'm considering putting in a bit about Al and the baker's daughter--because I think it would be hilarious. But I haven't decided yet. :D