Aftermath of Sin

chapter 1

America's Maes

He didn't remember much after that terrible light, that horrible purple lightning arcing across the crystal floors and walls. He heard himself cry out as Riza's form crumpled beside him and his own awareness seemed to dull, then become painfully acute again, then vice versa, over and over again, like he was being pushed and pulled, and then he was free. Free like a rubber band from a broken slingshot, he felt weightlessness, then all was black. After a while the black cleared or became lighter, rather, and hands brushed at him, dark shadowy hands, and they recoiled. They did not want him... He saw the crack of light, he reached for it, his fingers stretched towards it, for he was almost sure that that was where his beloved Riza had gone, where his small daughter had gone, and he wished so badly to be reunited with them...

But the gates slammed shut and his course was redirected; he was hurled into another gate, only to have that one slam in his face and be thrown like a rag to yet another until it stayed open, until he felt like a cork ready to pop against the light, pushing against the light, against, against, against... then relief from the pressure and he was through, and light flooded his eyes, his senses became aware, his fingers grasped at nothing, and he thudded to the ground in pain, smelling dirt and smoke and feeling concrete.

He rolled over onto his side, coughing up dust, still getting used to this new atmosphere, to find an awed crowd standing around him. He looked up at them, dark eyes surveying them all, and his head turned to see from where he had come. It looked like a pedestal of some sort. How strange...

A portly old fellow beamed at him and said rather amicably. "Well, that doesn't happen every day..."

Roy Mustang stared up at him incredulously, looking up at the gray smoke filled sky and the towering steel buildings; he had never seen anything quite like them. He brushed off his formal pants, short vest, and white shirt. "He has odd clothing too," the portly man said, and Roy looked again around him. The crowd, small though it was, was wearing articles of clothing strikingly different from his own; t-shirts and loose, baggy pants had definitely not been the sort of thing deemed proper to wear in East City, or even Amestris... but...

He rubbed his head, checking to see if he had conked himself too hard for his own good. "W-where am I? And what's the date?" he asked. The clothing and atmosphere confused him too much, he had to know or he feared he would go mad.

"Where? When? Why, you're in New York City, my boy... and you, kid, have just fallen off the pedestal where your statue was sitting just a few seconds before."

"My... statue? But where is... everything's so different... and what's with all the lights?" He asked again, pointing to all the lights and balloons; they were festive looking enough.

"You... wow, you really have been around the bend, man. Tonight's New Years!"

"1918?"

"What?"

"The new year, isn't it 1918?"

They all laughed and Roy was beside himself with confusion and embarrassment.

"No no, this is New York City... New York City, New York, 3020."

"Yeah, 1918 hasn't been around for 2000 years buddy, sorry."

"But then, but... have you heard of Amestris?" he asked frantically, and they shook their heads.

"Never heard of it," a teenage boy with rectangular glasses said at his shoulder, and he jumped and turned. "This is America," he said, and Roy gasped.

"Maes?"

The boy looked at him strangely and shrugged his shoulders. "Maes? No, I'm Matteas... but I go by Matt. Here, come with me..." he shrugged one shoulder and started to walk towards the gate of the... park, perhaps? It certainly looked like a park, with all the statues, trees, and greenery. Matt looked over his shoulder.

"So how'd you disguise yourself as a statue?" he asked, and Roy looked at him. He looked almost too similar to Maes... the noise, the hair, the glasses, the eyes, everything was just as he had remembered Maes when they had been teenagers.

"I wasn't 'disguised' as a statue. I was in Amestris, at my house, and then there were these... gates..." he faltered as Matt looked at him disbelievingly.

"Right. You sure you just didn't get hit by a bus and see the lights from above, buddy?"

Roy floundered on the word bus. "What's a... bus?"

"You've gotta be kidding..." Matt took an apple out of his pocket and rubbed it on his dirty sleeve, which Roy didn't think was the best action in the world, but... Matt took a bite out of it anyway. "So what you're saying is... you came from so made-up place called Amestris, you fell out of a statue, and you don't know what a bus is?"

"Ye-, wait! Amestris isn't made-up!"

"Mm-hmm, how come I've never heard of it?"

"Well, I'd never heard of 'America' before I got here!"

Matt sighed and pushed open the gates to let Roy out. "Anyways... where'd you get the threads?"

Roy looked around. What threads?

"The clothes."

"Oh, in Amestris... everyone wears this, kind of standard, really..."

"Dude, I have really old history textbooks... those things look like they came from the early 1900's..."

"1917, actually..."

Matt seemed determined to overlook the fact that Roy was otherworldly. He didn't want to deal with it. "Okay, let's just get you across a street without getting you killed. You know what a street is?"

"Of course!" Roy said, offended. "But what's a bus?"

"It's a big car, it carries more people, but people have to pay to ride it. Which is why I don't use a bus."

"You're awfully young to be out this late on your own."

"Ah, well... it's only 9... at night..."

Roy gave hima severe look.

"Okay okay, I'm not supposed to be out, or at least, I wouldn't have been, but nobody controls me, alright? I.. I'm roughin' it on my own."

"You're by yourself then."

"Yeah."

"Alone."

"Mm-hmm."

"No parents?"

"No."

"Ah. What happened?"

"None of your business! I'm just... giving you shelter for a little while until the Happy House people put up search posters for demented weirdos like you. You're bound to be on one of them."

" 'Happy House'...?"

"Gah! You're impossible! Just shut up and follow me!" A steady stream of curses issued from Matt's mouth and he took off his glasses angrily, stuffing them in his pocket.

"Hey, you won't be able to see without those!" Roy pointed out as a car skidded past them halfway across the street. It was yellow and black with a sign on it that said taxi. Taxi? What the hell was that?

"I can, I've got contacts... I'll show you later, just shut up!" he snapped before Roy could open his mouth to ask what contacts were.

"Where are we going?"

"Just shut up!"

"Hey, watch your tone, I'm still older than you a-"

"Are you? You don't look much older then! Take a look in the puddle." Matt kicked some water at him grumpily and sat on the curb, rolling the apple core in his hands. Roy obediantly looked in the water and he didn't like what he saw.

"What the hell!" He got down on his knees and felt his face, pulled at his hair, then checked his arms and legs and groaned, his hand going up to where his left eye should not have been.

But there was an eye there. He verified it by poking himself a few times.

"What's wrong, 'old man'?"

"I'm not missing an eye, I should be missing an eye," Roy muttered, and Matt spread his arms hopelessly.

"Why are you complaining?"

"Because! I'm 30 years old, and from the looks of my reflection... I'm... I'm... 19!" he howled. "I don't want to be 19 again! Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! What's wrong with this place?"

Matt quietly waited for Roy to finish his tantrum but was startled as Roy threw himself into the traffic. He jumped and ran after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him back to the curb, where he threw Roy down and sat on top of him, hands pinned behind his back. "Are you crazy? Are you insane? You could have gotten killed! Traffic deaths aren't thought of twice in New York, especially not for a head job like you!"

"I can't ever go back! How can I go back when I'm 19? I'm 30, Riza will never... I'll never see her again! She'll be 26 and I'll be 19! Oh God! And I'll be 19, I'll be almost as young as Ed, and God forbid that ever happening too! Everything's ruined!" he moaned, and Matt seized a handful of Roy's dark hair and pounded the now teenage Roy's face into the concrete.

"Stop-being-stupid-get-a-grip! We're going to go to my place, and then we'll sort this out, got it? Got it? If you don't say yes, your face is going into that pile of dog crap next."

Roy nodded, his face cut and bleeding slightly.

"God, what am I getting mixed up with here? C'mon... let's go..." He got off of Roy and helped him up, and Roy wiped his face off with the back of his sleeve. His mind was still dazed and he followed Matt silently at last. "You say one word or even look at that traffic the wrong way, I'll be sure to chuck you in front of a gasoline truck, got it?" Roy nodded again, then wondered what a gasoline truck was.

America's Maes Hughes sure was violent.