Welcome back to The Water Alchemist. I don't own any of the intellectual property of Fullmetal Alchemist.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Where We Stand
***
"The... gate?" Ed blinked, not seeming to comprehend. I nodded.
"Of Truth. I'm from the other side of... that gate," I clarified. A few strained minutes passed as his jaw went slack, and his shoulders slumped, but he didn't say anything. I was getting nervous watching him in a frozen state, and I shifted uncomfortably beneath the covers. It was too muted a response from someone like him. After a few more wrought moments, I had to know. "Why aren't you freaking out?"
He opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again. He did this a few times, furrowing his brow before settling on something to say.
"You made me promise not to," he said, his voice a little rigid. Right. Yes. That I did, I thought dumbly as he took a deep breath, his hands coming to rest over his knees. "Would you— excuse me, a minute."
"Sure," I agreed warily as he stood and staggered from the room, closing the door behind him. I felt my heart racing in my chest, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, on the other side of the door came a loud bang and a strained outcry. "Ed?"
"The Gate of Truth?" he exclaimed, followed by a string of colorful obscenities, with the phrase 'From the other side of the goddamn gate!' peppered in.
I clutched the sheets tightly as he stomped up and down the hallway. I felt incredibly helpless. He went on like that for a while until Pinako finally yelled at him to shut his trap; her words, not mine. He yelled back, telling her to butt out, but quieted. The hall went almost silent, and I wondered for a moment if he was even going to come back. I was too petrified to check. I heard a soft muttering just before the handle to the room twisted, and he lurched back in, returning to his place on the stool by my bed. We sat in awkward silence, and I couldn't read him at all. I leaned over and placed my hand over his, and he gave me a stunned look. I smiled weakly.
"I, uh, appreciate you not freaking out in front of me," I started, trying to get any kind of response from him.
He finally met my gaze, and I relaxed a little. He at least regarded me and that I could work with.
"The gate. The other side of... I don't even— I don't..." Ed trailed off, and I noticed how he dug his nails into the fabric of his pants and how glassy and unfocused his eyes were. I frowned. "I just... I wasn't ready for that. I think I was ready for— anything but that."
"I know. I'm going to do my best to try and explain. Okay?" I asked hopefully.
He took a breath, seeming to prepare himself, then nodded. Feeling a little more secure, I pulled from his grasp.
"It'd better be a damn good story, Freckles," he said, shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's certainly one for the books," I joked at my own expense, folding my hands over my lap. The corner of his mouth rose just slightly, and I began from the beginning.
***
We talked for quite some time, and I attempted to provide him as much detail and backstory I could before getting to the meat of things. Eventually, as the sun's rays danced over the windowsill and faded into the night, Pinako brought some dinner up for us. We paused our conversation to thank her, and she made me promise I'd finish the whole plate to 'get better quicker' after I coughed once in her presence. I indulged her with a promise, though it wasn't until she left that I noticed she had snuck in some mushrooms beneath a bed of carrots. I couldn't help but feel like Pinako had tainted my plate with the horrid vegetable on purpose, but I had already gone and promised her to finish the whole thing. I considered loading them off on Ed, who ate nearly as eagerly as I did – being my first real meal in a day – but when I finished the bulk of my plate, I decided to just suck it up. I grumbled, eating the few pieces there were altogether, trying to choke them down. After a bit of resistance, the cluster of mush slid down my throat, and I chased it with some water. Ed gave me a funny look, but I ignored it and continued.
"Where was I?" I asked, looking at Ed expectantly, hoping he had been paying attention as I took a much more sensible bite of some carrot I had left over on my plate to rid my mouth of the taste of mushroom.
"Truth's challenge," he reminded me, gnawing at his chicken.
"Right, right," I said, nodding. I had just explained how Elias had shown up one day in my world and was responsible for my appearance in Amestris and how we separated after meeting Truth, who had issued a challenge to me. "So, the challenge. I have what I remember of it written down in my journal, but it was something along the lines of 'righting the wrongs of this world'."
"I think I remember reading that when you went missing, though I didn't get what it meant then. I wasn't exactly too worried about it, either," Ed said through a mouthful. I gave him a look, and he swallowed before he continued. "Something about a past life was in there too, right?"
"Oh, yeah," I agreed, remembering for myself. "I think that bit may be referring to my father, but I'm not sure. I mean, I don't even know where he is— if he's even alive. Besides, he's done some... really horrible things."
Ed chewed considerably slower, eyeing me carefully. I pushed a carrot around my plate, trying to ignore the way he studied my every movement.
"What did your father do?" he finally asked, finishing his plate. I swallowed the last carrot down hard and rested my fork on my dish, trying to figure out where to begin with such a loaded question. I eventually decided to first explain Elias's motives in bringing me to Amestris. I explained his vendetta against my father and the things he'd done, and his hope to use me to gain access to him— though it didn't work out as he had hoped it would. I painfully recounted how I had regained the whole of my memory and what I had seen my father do in my vision. Ed leaned back in shock. "He created a Philosopher's Stone?"
"And stole it, apparently," I sighed. "Mustang surmised that the stone he stole was more than likely the one I arrived in."
"Oh, that reminds me, whatever happened to it?" he asked, laying his empty plate on the side table.
"I— okay, this is going to sound bad," I said nervously, preparing myself for the incoming lecture. "But I... gave it to Elias to hold."
"Elias?" Ed exclaimed. Here it comes, I thought, slinking into the sheets. "What the hell? Why would you give it to that bastard? You can't sit there and tell me that you actually trust that guy, especially after all he's done."
His arms waved around angrily as he interrogated me, eventually settling over his knees, expectantly awaiting a suitable answer.
"No, I don't. Not completely," I said.
I still wasn't sure myself how much trust could be put in Elias. He was driven, I'd give him that, but I wouldn't go so far as to say trustworthy.
"Then why give it to him? Why not me or Al? Do you not trust us?" Ed asked irritably, looking a little wounded.
"No, it's not like that," I tried to assure him. "I trust you two more than anyone."
"So why him?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Because I know he won't use it, Ed. He had even threatened me if I were to use it, which I don't plan to. I don't trust him, but I trust in his conviction about the stone," I reasoned.
"Is that enough?" he asked, averting his gaze.
I noticed how he balled his fists, noticed the strain in his voice. I inhaled sharply, realizing he may have taken my decision more personally. It seemed like he had seen it as a betrayal.
"For now, yes," I said, my face scrunching as the headache that had been a dull throb made an acute appearance at the front of my head. "I know you wouldn't use it either, but as much as I trust you or Al, holding onto it would only put you both in danger."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he seethed. I sighed, resting my hand on my forehead.
"When Mustang and I confronted Envy, he said that the public 'death' of Hughes served two purposes; the first, to satiate the Colonel and keep him from snooping. The second was to lure me out."
"Lure you out?" he parroted, seeming a little more composed after my explanation. I nodded, taking the plate from my lap and placing it over his on the nightstand.
"Envy wanted to take me to the leader of the Homunculi because they noticed something interesting about me, but he didn't say what that was," I clarified. He seemed to digest what I said, taking a moment to ponder it.
"They called you a sacrifice, too, right? Maybe that's why," he said, bringing his hand to his chin thoughtfully.
"I don't think so. I mean, they called you one too, and Envy called Mustang a potential sacrifice that night. Why single me out?"
"Hmm, I guess you're right," he nodded. "So, then you think they somehow realized you had a Philosopher's Stone?"
"Exactly," I agreed, glad we were finally on the same page. "So, I gave it to Elias to hold. They don't know who he is, and I know he wouldn't use the stone. It was a spur of the moment decision, but the best one I could think of. I didn't want to risk hanging onto it if they managed to find me."
He seemed to mull my reasoning over as he sat back quietly, deep in thought. I could tell by the way his face creased, and his automail flexed. He did it, maybe unconsciously, whenever he was thinking too hard. He groaned.
"Alright. But I'm not happy about it," Ed said in a ruffled huff.
"I'd be nervous if you were," I giggled. "It's only temporary." He seemed at least somewhat satisfied by my reasoning.
"So, how'd you get it off?" he asked, a little more collected. I eyed the journal on the desk, and he followed the trajectory of my gaze, turning.
"Mustang had been reading the journal and found a transmutation circle on alchemic jewelry. I tried it, and it worked, luckily. Again, spur of the moment decision," I said, my hand absently trailing over my collar. "I'm sure there's more information in there about it, about the stone, about my father, but I— I haven't been able to read about anything related to it. Part of me wants to burn the thing. Having to watch him create the stone was enough..." I trailed off, grasping at my neck. The physical burden had been removed, but I still carried its weight with me. Ed shook his head, turning to face me.
"You don't have to explain it," Ed assured me softly. "I'd probably feel the same in your shoes."
"Thank you," I nodded.
"Well, who knows, you may just win the award for 'world's most terrible father'," he said with a dopey grin, cocking an eyebrow. "And here I thought I had the title in the bag." I cracked a smile, appreciating his attempt at diverting my attention.
"Well, I am pretty competitive. I have something like thirteen medals to my name, you know," I preened, aware of the not-so-humble brag.
"Oh, yeah?" he questioned, leaning back. "In what?"
"Competitive swimming," I said.
"You swim competitively?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.
"I swam competitively, yes. I haven't in a few years, though," I clarified. "It was a big part of my life for a time on the other side of the gate. Back in my world, or dimension or whatever." He nodded, his gaze affixed to the floorboards.
"Could you tell me more about it?" he asked.
"Competitive swimming? Well, it's pretty self-explanatory, Ed—"
"No, no," he said with a laugh, lifting his head and resting his hand over mine. I felt a spike in my heart rate as I gazed into his eyes, full of wonder and sincere curiosity. "I want to know more about your world— about your life before."
"Oh, well, of course," I said, feeling a little flustered. I wasn't expecting him to take interest in my life, especially considering how mundane it was; though, he didn't know that. I thought for a moment, and I knew exactly what to tell him first. "Well, for starters, we don't have alchemy on my side."
"What? That's insane!" he exclaimed, pulling back. I was a little too aware of the lack of warmth at my hand, but I did my best to ignore it. "How do you not have alchemy?"
"Well, okay, that's a small lie," I admitted. "We technically have alchemy, but it's more like a theoretical idea in my world rather than a practical science. You can't transmute things there like you can here. It has limitations that go even further than equivalent exchange. It's more like— basic chemistry, I think. Well, don't quote me on that. I didn't exactly study up on my world's version of alchemy in my free time."
"That would explain your ineptitude as an alchemist," he teased, poking my arm. I feigned offense, moving away from him.
"I'm sorry, whose inept alchemy provided you relief on our grueling trek across the desert? Oh, that's right, mine," I ribbed back as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Besides, if my alchemy sucks, I can only blame my teacher."
"Hey," he whined, and I giggled at the little pout he gave me.
"Now, would you let me speak? Or do you want to continue insulting yourself?"
"Fine, fine. Though, I can't promise my interest now that I know your side doesn't have real alchemy," he said with a sly grin, and I rolled my eyes. I told him about my world, and he listened adamantly, rarely interrupting unless it were for clarification. At some point, he asked about my family life. "So, your dad is from here, and your mom is from your side?"
"From what I gather, yeah," I said. "I thought it was a little strange at first too, but I saw them together in my vision. I hadn't really remembered what he looked like, but she always said I was my father's daughter. Both her and Jeremy."
"Jeremy?" he asked, raising a brow.
"My step-dad. He's just a know-it-all jerk," I grumbled, staring down at my covered feet. I snorted dryly. "He'd probably be glad that I disappeared. He had been trying to get rid of me ever since he married my mom— sent me to boarding school, pestered me to move to some state far away for college. Bet he threw a party or something as soon as I was gone."
"You're right. He does sound like a jerk," Ed said, and I looked over to him. He had a terrible look on his face, somewhere between pity and anger. I went back to staring at my feet. "Would he really be glad his kid just... disappeared?" I shook my head.
"I mean, obviously, I can't say for sure— but I wouldn't put it past him either. I'm not really his kid, and he made that clear from the start. It's the kind of guy he was. We had even gotten into an argument the morning before I arrived here, though that wasn't uncommon," I explained, feeling some left-over tension rise in my chest. There was a tense moment of silence as what I said hung in the air.
"What about your mom?" Ed asked quietly. I thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
"I— I'm not sure," I said honestly. It had been a while since I had thought about mom, or Jeremy, or home. I didn't even think about how they'd actually react to my disappearance; I hadn't had the time to. Were they worried? Were they looking for me? Did they even realize I was gone? I pushed the thought away, biting my lip. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them tightly. "I mean, I guess, right? She's my mom." Ed wrinkled his nose.
"What makes you so... uncertain?" he asked. I ran my hand along the sheets, tracing circles in the wrinkles of fabric.
"When my dad left, I think she began to resent how— alike, he and I were. I didn't understand it at first – I was too young – but I think, at some point, I realized it wasn't a good thing. So, I tried to become a mini version of her. She had been somewhat of an idol when I was younger, before he had left, so it was easy for me. I used to mimic her mannerisms, grew out my hair to my waist as she had; I even took up swimming after her. She had been a swim champion when she was my age. I thought, maybe, if I tried to be like her, tried to look more like her and less like him, I wouldn't remind her so much of the mess he had left us with. I think it worked for a little bit. But things only got worse when Jeremy stepped in. He convinced her to chop her beautiful brown hair off, and they pulled me from the swim program after winning my second ever gold— my mom had only won one, and he thought I was trying to one-up her. Jeremy took every chance to compare me to my father. He'd always say he never saw a speck of her in me, and I think she believed him. I couldn't escape my father's influence no matter what I did. Huh, I guess it even followed me across worlds," I admitted, softly chuckling, but it was a humorless, disheartened laugh. It had been a while since I thought about the life I'd be returning to, where I still spent my time trying my best to lay low, to be anything but myself. Here, I was everything my mother was afraid I'd be, everything she had said I had gotten from my father – impulsive and competitive and opinionated – but no one compared me to anyone else. I was just myself, probably the most myself I had ever allowed myself to be. It felt nice. The life I was bound to return to strangely didn't feel like it was mine anymore. I bit my lips together, feeling tears well at the corners of my eyes. I quickly swiped them away with the back of my hand, trying to compose myself, and I inhaled sharply. "Sorry, I didn't mean to load off on you. Just— forget it."
I felt a stray tear slide down my face, and before I could wipe it away, a warm touch traced over my cheek. I jumped a little at the sudden contact, but Ed continued to wipe away my tear.
"No, don't apologize," he said, sliding back to the stool. "I said I wanted to know more about you. Thanks for humoring me."
He smiled, and a sudden warmth dispelled the ache in my chest, softening its jagged edges. It was relieving, in a way, to vent to Ed. He seemed like he had been listening intently as I talked, and it felt good to get that off my chest. I hadn't told anyone about anything this... arduous, before him.
"I know she loves me; though, she had an odd way of showing it at the end there," I shrugged. "I think she'd be worried, at least."
"I know I'd be worried," he said, and I felt my face flush. He cleared his throat as if realizing what he said after the fact and scratched the back of his head. I realized I was gawking at him like an idiot, and I had to remind myself that now was certainly not the time to be enchanted by his boyish charm or sweet understanding. I managed to compose myself, directing my gaze anywhere in the room other than where he sat. "So, uh, tell me more about your world. What do you people do for fun without alchemy?"
"Not everyone can be so thrilled about the periodic table, Edward," I scoffed, resting my chin in my palm. "I did normal things."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Well, I wrote democratic debate papers," I mused, wracking my brain for my pastimes from before. It wasn't often I had free time with the kind of work I was doing for school.
"For fun?" he asked, bewildered.
"Yes, for fun."
"Nerd," he chuckled.
"Says the alchemy freak," I poked, and he scoffed. Though even I had to admit, some of it was interesting. Just not something I'd consider fun, per se. "I was on a debate team, and I wrote out our proposals and the research for the debate topics. I didn't present, though. I left that to the more... outgoing people."
"Funny, I thought you'd be doing the debating, what with the way you stand up to serial killers and question them in the middle of an alley as they threaten to kill you," he jabbed. I glared at his cocky smile. "What were your debates about anyway?"
"Mostly foreign policy or advocating for a more reformed and fair political system. I was thinking about studying political science in college. It's pretty fascinating."
"I can't imagine that being interesting," he scoffed. "You don't even understand how many times Mustang nearly bored me to death with his political lectures. Seriously, the man doesn't know when to stop."
I laughed, and it morphed into a strained cough. He looked at me a little apprehensively, but I waved him off as it quieted. He sat back a little.
"You do realize you're a part of the military, right?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah, but it's not like I conform to the stupid policies. I mean, you don't see me wearing one of those ugly blue uniforms. I'd rather carve my own eyes out."
"Fair enough," I shrugged.
"So, is that all? Writing political debate papers?"
"Well, I did other stuff too— like, watch anime."
"What's that?" he asked, and I realized I misstepped.
I had forgotten that through all my explaining, I hadn't disclosed that his life was one of the anime's I'd watch.
Shit, I thought, knowing I couldn't skirt around the topic anymore.
"Uh, well, it's a form of storytelling that uses hundreds of thousands of pictures put together to create movement on the moving picture box I was telling you about," I said, noticing I had begun picking the residual dirt from my nails.
"That thing you called a T.V.?" he asked.
"Right," I said. "Actually, what I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane, and you may not believe me." He quirked an eyebrow.
"Uh, okay," he said a little cautiously.
"No, you don't understand— like, it's going to be really unbelievable," I emphasized.
"You're starting to scare me, Freckles," he said. "Just spit it out." I gulped, wringing my hands.
"So, there are all kinds of anime's, just like there are all kinds of stories," I began.
"Right," he nodded. I bit my lips together, taking a deep breath.
"You— um, well, your story, was an anime I had watched," I admitted softly. "That's how I was 'seeing the future' in some of my migraines, or how I remembered certain people." My voice quieted as I finished the sentence, painfully aware that this was not something he'd take lightly.
"What?" he asked, clearly in disbelief.
"It's called 'Fullmetal Alchemist'," I explained. "After you. That's why when we met, I knew so much about you. I had... seen it."
He hunched in his chair when I finished, and I could almost feel the weight the discovery put on his ever-burdened shoulders.
"So, my life was— what, just some... story, to you? And you just kept it from us?"
"I— well, yes, but as I said, I didn't tell you to protect Hughes and to keep the Homunculi from finding out I was from the other side," I said, my chest constricting.
My worst fear was coming true right in front of my eyes. He wasn't going to trust me. Why would he trust me, not telling them something so huge like that? Why would he trust any of the outlandish things I had told him tonight? A long and awkward silence settled between us— the air dense with unease. He shook his head, and I winced as he slammed his fist into his knee.
"Damnit!" he said, shuddering. He stood abruptly and kicked the stool across the room.
"Ed," I tried, reaching out for him.
"No, it's bullshit! This is my goddamn life Marina, and I'm just supposed to believe that someone in some alternate dimension just— knew all about it? Every damn detail?" he cried out, enraged, shrugging away from me. His last words came out in strained pitches I had never heard from him before, and I could see him untethering himself from the safety of what he knew to be true. I was at a loss. "Am I just... made up to you?"
I felt a stab of pain in my chest, but I pushed past the awful feeling compressing my lungs.
"No, of course not. I thought so before, back on my side, but I know better now. You're obviously a real person, Edward."
"And you're from another world! How am I supposed to believe any of this?" he asked incredulously, his eyes seeming lost. "Damnit!" He yelled again, and I recoiled.
He turned from me, his outline hidden in the shadows that danced across the room in the flickers of candlelight. He looked to be on the verge of a breakdown. I couldn't sit by and let him destroy himself. Scooting to the edge of the bed, I stepped tentatively toward him. I brushed my hand softly against his back, gauging his reaction before pressing further. He flinched at the sudden connection but didn't pull away. I could feel the way he tensed as I slowly encircled my arms around his torso, resting my cheek at his back.
"I understand how you're feeling; when I found out, I was a wreck. It's not something that I had ever thought possible, but here we are— a seemingly fictional character and a girl who managed to travel to an alternate universe. But if you're not real Ed, then that means I'm not either. That means Al and Winry aren't real. It means the lives we've lived are meaningless, and I—" I said, holding him tighter, feeling a vile mix of uncertainty and anger rise in my chest. I didn't have an easily digestible solution for any of what had happened, and a small part of me still hadn't come to terms with it myself. I found my voice again, though it was much quieter than when I started. "I don't want to believe that. I don't believe that... do you?"
There was a moment of stillness as he breathed, rushed, and ragged before his hands rested against my arms gently.
"No," he grumbled, his voice low. "It's just— this is a lot to take in all at once."
"I know," I said. "But you're not alone. I'm right here."
He turned, and I released him, ill-prepared for him to grasp both of my hands in his tightly and bend to rest his forehead on my shoulder. I stopped breathing for a moment, a little stunned, and waited.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Just... let me stay like this for a minute."
I nodded, squeezing his hands in a way I hoped would be reassuring. He was stiff and maybe a bit unsure to start, but he eventually seemed to calm himself down, relaxing into me. I breathed him in, that familiar scent of oil and the tang of metal, and something else, something like the way grass smelled after rain, fresh and a little intoxicating. I had never seen Ed be so openly... vulnerable, before. Even when we had dug up his transmutation, he hadn't initiated contact like this. It was a little unexpected, but not in a bad way.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," I said eventually as I traced steel and flesh, a strange but comforting sensation. "I wanted to tell you as soon as Hughes was safe, but then I got wrapped up in all this Xerces business, and your father showed up, and I— I wanted to tell you for so long."
He sighed into me and pulled away, standing up straight.
"I know. I mean, I hated not knowing what was going on with you, but I could have never imagined you were carrying around something like this all this time," Ed said, a look of remorse on his face. "I wasn't even thinking about how bizarre this all must have been for you, and you faced it alone. I'm sorry."
I shook my head, letting my head come to rest over his chest, wrapping my arms around him.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," I said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not alone anymore."
He nodded slightly, and though he was hesitant at first, he eventually embraced me, and we held one another, letting the heaviness settle on both of our shoulders. My heart was pounding out of my chest, but he was kind enough not to say anything— probably because I could tell that his was too. Sooner or later, maybe from a mutual sense of ease or a growing embarrassed awareness of just how long we had been standing there entangled, he shifted away, and we stepped back to our previous seating arrangement, though I let my legs dangle over the side of the bed. We were quiet for a bit longer, not really knowing how to move on. He finally cleared his throat and folded his hands, twisting his thumbs over one another.
"So, if my life is a— story, on your side, does that mean you know how it plays out?" he asked tenativly.
"No, not all of it. The story only goes so far, so I don't know what happens long-term. Besides that, it's been a while since I watched it, so some things are kind of hazy in my memory. I was re-watching it when I was brought here, but we've already gone beyond what I remember," I explained. "I know the general outline, but the details are lost on me. And, before you ask— I'm not going to tell you what happens."
"What? Why not?" he whined, a little disgruntled. "You go and tell me the craziest shit I've ever heard, and you're not even going to tell me what happens?"
"In my world, we call that spoilers," I chuckled slightly at the disappointed frown he gave me. "Besides, I've already messed with things here more than I probably should have."
"Okay, so what's the difference if you say something else?"
"I don't want something I told you to cause you any harm," I said, gripping the edge of the bed. "Don't ask me to intentionally hurt you, Ed. Please. I care about you too much for that."
He sat back, blinking rapidly before he huffed and brought his hand to the lower part of his face, averting his gaze.
"Fine," he conceded through grumbles. I knew it must have been hard for him to let the opportunity for more information to slip through his fingers.
"I appreciate it, Ed. I really do. I promise to look out for you, though," I said, and I noticed him tense up.
I couldn't tell in the orange glow of the candle, but he seemed a little pinker than he normally presented. I couldn't help but crack a small grin at his nervous appearance.
"Can I at least ask what you messed with?" he sighed, leaning his chin on his palm, a little more collected.
"Well, in the story I know, Hughes was... he was supposed to die," I admitted quietly. Ed furrowed his brow.
"But he's alive," he observed. I bobbed my head in agreement.
"Well, I figured the 'righting of wrongs' part meant saving a good and decent man from his death," I explained, recounting the night I had rescued Hughes. "I think that saving Hughes may have been the challenge from Truth."
"So then, what now?" he asked. I tilted my head sideways, not understanding.
"What do you mean?"
"It... it sounds like you completed the challenge if that's what it was," he shrugged. "You got your memories back and your necklace off too. So, what now?"
I was a little alarmed that he had come to the conclusion I had been wrestling with for the last few days on his own. I mean, he was a kid genius, so I should have expected it, but still. A little denseness would have been appreciated.
"I'm not sure. Elias – well, Nessa, the nurse – said to come back when I felt ready to... return home," I said, wrapping my arms around my torso. There was a moment of quiet between us before he spoke.
"Is that what you want to do? Go back?" he raised quietly. I inhaled sharply.
"It's... complicated. When I first got my memory back, that's all I could think of. That, and how angry I was that I was brought here in the first place. I was furious that my life had been interrupted, and I didn't even realize," I said. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't meet his gaze. "But then, I thought about you, and Al, and Winry and Isabelle and every person who had taken me in and given me a chance— who had shown me genuine human compassion and kindness. I couldn't be more grateful for you all. But, as you said, I did everything I set out to do. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't— I don't have a reason to stay. I can't kid myself. I'm not supposed to be here. This isn't my home, Ed. I... I need to go back to where I belong." I exhaled, chancing a look at him. At some point, he had brought his folded hands to rest in front of his face, and he gazed at the ground with intense focus.
"And going back, is that...?" he trailed off and didn't move to end the question he had begun.
"Permanent?" I finished for him quietly, my voice cracking under the weight of the word. He nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. I stared at a knot in the wood at the base of his stool. "Yes."
I had been working myself up for quite some time about how this conversation would go down, and it was both relieving and excruciating. I was glad there were no more secrets between us, but the truth felt much harsher and more divisive. I knew it needed to be said, but it didn't pull the punch to the gut I got from saying it. It didn't make it any easier to face him either. He didn't say it, but I saw the hurt in his eyes when he finally looked up at me. I had done that, and there was no escaping it.
"Alright. Well, it's getting late," Ed said tightly, standing. His face rose into the darkness that the candle couldn't reach, and I was abruptly on edge. "As long as you're feeling better tomorrow, we'll catch the train back to Central. Thanks for the explanation. Get some rest, Marina."
The finality in his tone struck me, and I moved to protest, but I caught a glimpse of his face as he turned to go, and nothing left my open mouth as my foot found the floor. He just seemed so tired, so sullen, and I understood immediately— nothing I could say or do would fix this, could fix this. He knew it as much as I did. I was left staring blankly at the flickering candle as he crossed the room and closed the door behind him. A few silent and ominous moments passed before the last few hours found themselves settled uneasily in the pit of my stomach. I grasped at my tank top, clutching the fabric over my chest for dear life, letting out a harsh breath. It felt like my heart had been drained of its blood and instead pumped poison through my body. I let out a choked sob and covered my mouth, my body shaking and threatening to cough. My vision blurred as tears hit my knees, the floor, and I crumpled. Nothing could have prepared me for how awful it was to grieve for the things that couldn't be.
***
Ed closed the door behind him with a soft clack, leaning his back against the wood. He stared off into the dark hall, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the outline of door frames, tackey wallpaper, and oak flooring. He couldn't place the swelling in his chest that made it difficult to breathe or the flood of thoughts that swirled around his head and trapped him there. They seemed to move his body on impulse, driving him from the room before he could say or do something stupid and thoughtless. All the cards had finally been laid out on the table, but he couldn't help but feel like he had gone and opened Pandora's box. He wasn't prepared for any of this, to say the least. Just when he thought he had prepared himself for every scenario, she goes and tells him something like that.
"Damnit," he grumbled quietly to himself, taking a ragged breath. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to make sense of the last few hours, the last few days and weeks and months spent with Marina. It all came rushing back to him, every uncertainty, every triumph, every moment that left him breathless and intimidated and excited— it overwhelmed him as he slid down the length of the door, coming to rest on the floor. They had spent nearly every day together, but suddenly, it wasn't enough. He didn't want to let her go. He had realized that the night he almost lost her to Mustang, of all people. He wanted to keep training her and watch her grow as a fighter and alchemist. She wasn't as bad as he joked her to be. He wanted to watch her kick ass, even if it happened to be his— even if it was a fluke sock to the jaw. He wanted to know more about her life, about the things he wondered if she had ever shared with anyone else before. He couldn't help but feel like even after all this time, he was only scratching the surface. He wanted her to stay by his side, to keep laughing, and talking and smiling with him. He barely understood the things he wanted. He just knew that he wanted more. More than he could have. More than he could ask of her.
What would you want if you were her?
Pinako's annoying riddle rattled around his head, a clear thought above the raging storm, and it pissed him off how it had come back to haunt him. Then, he didn't think about it too hard— he didn't need to. He hadn't felt like... this back then. But Marina had been wondering where she had come from this whole time. She had been yearning for this very reality— to have a home, a life, a place to return to. No matter how shitty he felt it was, how shitty she knew it was, that was simply something he couldn't offer her. It was something he knew, deep down, he couldn't get in the way of.
He heard a soft whimper from the other side of the door, and he snapped his head up, startled by the sound. He turned, pressing his ear to the door, and he heard a few more stifled sobs. He laid his hand against the grainy wood, all the sensors in his body going off, urging him back inside, urging him to throw caution to the wind and allow his impulse to take control. But he couldn't do that. He wouldn't let himself. He had managed to keep his emotions in check for this long, somehow; his wary skepticism of his own feelings serving him well. He clenched his fist, mustered the strength to pick himself off the floor, and found his way to his room.