Hime D. ~創世の錬金術師~ (hime1999) wrote in fm_alchemist,
Hime D. ~創世の錬金術師~
hime1999
fm_alchemist

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[fic] Many Happy Returns

Gen. BIG FAT WARNING FOR THE MOVIE AND ITS ENDING. Betaed by... so many people. XD;;;

* * * * * * *

The plate shattered as it hit the floor.

He rushed to his friend's side. "Edward! Sind Sie in Ordnung?"

Edward stared back at him. There were shock, fear and disbelief on his face.

He tilted his head, looking back at him. He wondered what had surprised him so much. "Edward?"

Edward's mouth moved as if trying to remember how to speak, opening and closing several times. "...Al?"

He frowned. He hesitated, somehow unfamiliar with the way Edward was calling him, but replied anyway. "Ja?"

"Al, what are you playing at?"

He just looked at him in confusion. "Entschuldigung? Edward?"

The shorter boy flinched at the mention of his name. "Alphonse! Stop that!"

And now he was utterly baffled. Why was suddenly Edward using English with him? His English was not so bad, but they usually just didn't use it. "Edward, fuhlen Sie sich nicht gut?"

"Alphonse!"

And he saw Edward's palm come toward him.

* * *

He rubbed his sore cheek and sulked.

Damn it, he had the right to sulk. Seventeenth birthday and suddenly his brother hit him. The last time his brother hit him outside of a spar was when he was still nine, before their mother had fallen ill. What the hell had possessed his brother?

And what was that look on his brother's face? The last time he saw that was when Scar had turned him into the Philosopher's Stone, but he could swear that nothing could be that bad when you just got up from bed and were going to have your birthday breakfast.

Never mind that he couldn't remember how he got to the kitchen.

* * *

He blinked and stared.

A bottle of milk. In the icebox.

He couldn't drink it because of his allergy and Edward passionately loathed the liquid. There was no point of buying any milk with their limited fund.

Why would they have one in the icebox?

* * *

He frowned.

What were his brother's rocketry books doing in his room? He thought he had stored them away.

* * *

He frowned.

He couldn't find his blueprints. Edward couldn't have hidden them, could he?

* * *

"Brother? Did you eat the leftovers last night?"

"...No."

"I can't find it."

"Al... you ate it yourself."

"...I did?"

* * *

He wondered when he had moved his bed to the other side of the room.

* * *

"I thought it was your turn to do the grocery shopping today?"

His brother looked up warily from the newspaper.

"Brother?"

His brother silently pointed at the heading of the paper.

Dienstag. Tuesday.

Weird. He could have sworn that it had been Monday.

* * *

"Anything else, Al?"

He sighed. Edward was talking in English again. "Nein, ich brauche nichts."

He nearly missed his friend's sudden wild look.

* * *

...What was he doing in the dining room? He could have sworn he had been bathing....

* * *

"Stop it!"

"Edward?"

"Stop it, Al!"

"Edward? Geht es Ihnen gut?"

"QUIT THE GERMAN CRAP, AL! YOU'RE NOT ALFONS!"

There was silence.

"Edward, was reden Sie?"

* * *

He felt exhausted and upset. But he didn't remember doing anything that day. Or the day before.

Come to think of it, he didn't remember most of the things he did since his birthday the week before.

* * *

Edward had been jittery for the last few days. He kept looking at him with scared eyes as if any move he made would be an attack.

Edward also spent a lot of time locked inside his room. Sometimes he could hear the shorter young man pacing inside, muttering in garbled English as if he was struggling with a problem that not even a genius could solve. At times he would stop and peek outside, before he would slam the door again and pace.

He only wished he could figure out why.

* * *

"Brother! You've been in there for hours!"

The door slammed open. And he found himself knocked over by the sheer force that was Edward Elric.

"Alphonse! Shit, Alphonse, it's you!"

He could only stared down in confusion at the shivering bundle in his lap that was his older brother.

* * *

He wondered what miracle had happened that allowed Edward to finally come out of his room. But his wonder only increased as he was unceremoniously given his jacket and dragged toward the door by hand. He could only sighed as he shrugged into the gray jacket and followed his friend to wherever he had in mind.

He paused.

How peculiar. The last time he wore his jacket, it had been light brown. When did he buy this one?

* * *

"Have you experienced gaps in your memory? As in, you find yourself in a place but you can't remember how you got there?"

He had the urge to tell the doctor that that was exactly how he found himself here, but one look at his brother beside him quelched that urge. Instead, he just nodded.

* * *

The pendulum swang.

And his eyes felt heavy....

* * *

He was asleep but more awake than he ever felt.

* * *

He was not alone.

* * *

But he was alone.

* * *

Was he ever alone?

* * *

Yes./No.

* * *

"Alfons, please! Bitte!"

* * *

Who?/You?/Me?/Him?/What?

* * *

"Verschwinde aus unserem Leben!"

Get out of our lives!

* * *

And he couldn't understand why.

* * *

Why not?

* * *

He was worried for his brother.

* * *

He was worried for his friend.

* * *

They were worried for Edward.

* * *

Five.

Vier.

Three.

Zwei.

One.


He opened his eyes.

And the doctor pulled away his hand.

* * *

Edward was watching from the dining table.

He turned and smiled. "What is it, Brother?"

Edward gave a tired smile. "Nothing."

He raised an eyebrow and turned back to the stew. Hmm, nearly done. "Brother, get the plates for me, please?"

"Sure!"

"Danke."

He gave the stew one last stir before turning to Edward to receive the plates. Instead, he was met by worried golden eyes.

He blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Brother?"

Edward stared at him for another moment before shaking his head. "Nothing," he said, giving a nervous laugh.

He snorted and took the plates. Really, his brother was too much of a worryrant. It was not like he was going to turn into Alfons any moment.

Alfons' turn was still a few hours away anyway.

* * * * * * *
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