-1The Waters of Lethe

Author's note: This chapter has not been betaed! Please PM me if you would like to take on this task. Thank you.

Chapter 79: Show Me The Way To Go Home

Due to extra work at headquarters caused by all the invasion damage, Maria Ross and Denny Brosh didn't get to visit Edward until two days after the visit of Kong Qian. Neither was expecting to be allowed to see him because they weren't family, so she was surprised to discover they'd been expected. A friendly nurse guided them through the maze of corridors to the door of his room, and even offered to check to see if he was awake, but Maria waved her hands, and with much smiling and head shaking, assured her she and Denny didn't want to be a bother.

The nurse smiled her thanks for the consideration and walked quickly and silently away on soft-soled shoes. Maria waited until she was alone to draw a long, shuddering breath. Except for indistinct sounds in the distance, the corridor was completely silent, save for the pounding of her heart which thundered in her ears like the crack of doom. It sounded even louder after Denny suddenly took her left hand and squeezed with the gentlest touch.

After she took another deep breath to steady herself, Maria grabbed the door knob and slowly turned it before she eased the door open.

As she'd expected, Edward was asleep. But he wasn't alone. A boy with brown hair sat next on the opposite side of the bed, and Maria had to search her brain for an instant before it it helpfully supplied the name: Alphonse.

Six years after his soul and body were rejoined, the younger Elric had matured into a handsome teenager. He'd grown so much taller, longer in both torso and limbs, although his face still had a touch of the roundness of childhood. He had a book (probably about alchemy) she thought wryly, in his right hand. One finger served duty as a bookmark, while he leaned forward to watch his older brother sleep. His hair was shorn short into a shaggy bob, his eyes dark and glittering in a sun-tanned face.

Edward lay on his back his head turned away from the two. His right arm was bent at the elbow and the hand faced the pillow, the fingers curled just under Edward's chin. His long blond hair was unbound, spreading across the pillow. It gleamed in the sunlight coming through a single window, as if freshly washed. Three intravenous lines led from fat glass jars hanging off a metal stand to needles taped to his left arm, which lay atop a white sheet pulled to his chest. That chest rose and fell with the regular rhythm of someone in a state of deep sleep. Without realizing it, Maria walked forward in short steps, almost on tip toe because she didn't want to wake the sleeper.

She was halfway there when Edward stirred abruptly; he moaned softly, and his eyelids fluttered. After noting his page in the book, Alphonse set it aside on the floor next to his feet. His face was open and friendly, but there was no note of recognition in his eyes. The boy simply nodded and said "hello" quietly, before he bent over his brother. A broad smile split his face when Edward yawned and stretched, "Good afternoon, sleepyhead. You have visitors."

Edward shifted his head until he could see both Maria and Denny, This time, there was a spark, his wan face actually brightened in tone as his large yellow eyes lit up. He seemed very pleased to see them. "Lieutenant Ross, Sergeant Brosh! Sorry for just lying around like this."

"No, no!" Denny waved his hands while a spreading redness across his cheekbones telegraphed his embarrassment. "Don't you move, Major Elric! You've been very sick and need your rest."

"Major!?" Alphonse managed to look very confused as he looked from his brother to Denny, and back again.

Maria coughed lightly into her fisted right hand, as a signal for him to shut up. But, she was glad Denny had brought the subject up, His sudden blurting out of Edward's old military rank had made what she had to say much easier. She saluted smartly before taking the thin buff folder from underneath her left arm. Maria flipped it open with a quick fwap, and scanned the words on the single page within before she spoke in her best military issue tone of voice.

"By order of Brigadier General Grumman; Major Edward Elric, also known as the Fullmetal Alchemist is hereby returned to active duty, pending an investigation of his being absent without leave for a period no less than six years." She flipped the page over and read the reverse side. "However, considering Major Elric's medical condition and the bravery of his actions at the Battle of Central, the investigative order is stayed. Furthermore, Major Elric is also to be placed on indefinite medical leave. These orders will take effect immediately!"

Maria snapped the folder shut and returned it to its former position underneath her left arm. Both she and Denny saluted, and Edward, still laying flat on his back, returned the salute crisply. "At ease,you two."

They puffed out loud sighs of relief. Edward looked at them with a sheepish grin on his face, reminding Maria of that time in the hospital after the Lab 5 incident. She'd slapped the boy soundly before lecturing him about disobeying her order to stay put at the hotel. In a rare show of humility, Edward admitted Maria was right and he'd deserved both slap and scolding.

/

The sun was setting and washing Central with a dust filtered red glow when Maria and Denny left the hospital, They walked hand in hand, not caring if anyone saw them, military protocol be dammed. For almost an hour, Maria had sat on Edward's bed and Denny in an uncomfortable wooden chair while they caught Edward up to date with the lives of the people he'd once known so closely. She would have stayed longer, but she noticed Edward's eyelids were drooping. Maria tapped Denny's left foot with her right boot to get his attention, and he picked up on her unspoken signal at once.

"We've tired you out, Edward, so you need to rest." He didn't argue with her and slid back down from his half-seated position against his pillows. He was almost asleep before they'd even stood up, obliging Maria to resist a strong urge to tuck him in and wish him 'sweet dreams'. Edward was an adult now; too old to be 'mothered'; although he looked so frail under the white sheets.

As they strolled along back towards Central HQ, Denny looked down the block and smiled in an absent-minded way while a slight wind tousled his blond hair. "That was a very nice thing for General Grumman to do. By putting Edward on medical leave, he ensured the military will pay the hospital bill."

"Actually, Denny, it was Mustang's idea." Maria almost laughed out loud at the thunderstruck look Denny shot at her. "He knew Fullmetal wouldn't accept the order if it came from him. So, he came up with the plan of giving the credit - or the blame - to General Grumman."

Denny sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. "Mustang is getting a little above himself already? He's only a Captain, but he acts like he's the same old Colonel he used to be." He sighed again, as if he had no choice but to accept things the way they were. "Even with everything that's happened, he still managed to land on his feet. So, I suppose it's all going to work."

"It'll work unless the real General Grumman finds out." Maria warned, with one finger to his lips. Denny could never keep a secret.

/

One week later

After Alphonse had gotten a haircut at the Central HQ barbershop to trim his messy hair, Alex had very kindly taken him to lunch at one of the few open restaurants in Central. The food was absolutely delicious: a grilled hamburger topped with fried, caramelized onions and served with fat, juicy pickle chips and beer-battered fries. Alphonse had never been able to afford anything like this during the hungry years he'd searched for Edward and he appreciated the older man's gesture greatly. But he'd had a hard time concentrating on this meal, and one hand kept sneaking back to feel his now bare neck. Since he'd found his brother, Alphonse had no longer felt the need to wear his hair like Edward's.

Nor to dress like him either; they'd visited a used clothing store after the haircut. Alphonse now wore a long-sleeved gray T-shirt of a heavy weight fabric over faded blue jeans, and black canvas shoes. He'd also picked out a knee-length black coat to replace the sun-faded and travel-stained red one, and it was almost as if Alphonse was consciously laying aside childish affectations in favor of a new maturity. Since Kong Qian had accepted Alphonse as his apprentice, he wanted to look the part of a serious student of alchemy. At his feet lay a dark blue rucksack, another purchase at the same store. Inside it were packed more long sleeved shirts in various colors, plus two more pairs of jeans, and another pair of canvas shoes.

Back at Central Military Hospital No 1 and now replete with a stomach full of delicious food busily digesting, Alphonse sat in a wooden chair in the hall outside of Edward's room and nodded drowsily in the afternoon sunshine. He'd actually fallen asleep once, his chin resting on his chest. But he jerked awake with a loud snort, like a startled horse when the gentle murmur of voices from inside suddenly took on a louder pitch. There was a crash, a thump and suddenly Edward was yelling at the top of his lungs, "DAMMIT, WINRY! THAT HURT!"

His heart hammering in his ears, Alphonse jumped up and turned the knob, throwing the door open with a little too much force. It bounced off the wall and whapped back into his face while he stood staring stupidly at the tableau in front of him. A tableau that looked highly compromising.

Edward lay on his back and rubbed his head with his left hand, his yellow eyes narrowed with anger. An extremely sulky expression compressed his features, making him look like a balky child.

Winry straddled his bare midsection, her brow darkened with ire, and her white teeth clenched in a snarl. Her left hand was closed tightly around Edward's pajama top, the material twisted hard enough in her fist to reveal his pale, scarred chest. That chest was heaving up and down like a stormy sea, as a result of some sudden exercise. In Winry's right hand was a large wrench, the business end of it dotted with blood and a small amount of long blond hairs. Alphonse could see a red area just above Edward's forehead where Winry had clobbered him.

Winry's cheeks were stained red also, at first Alphonse thought that was also blood, until he realized she was blushing a very becoming pink. The color was spreading across her face, down her chin and along the neck that was visible over the high-collared blouse she wore.

The short skirt Winry had on was rucked up almost to her hips, making the graceful lines of her long legs very apparent and Alphonse found his own face warming with a spreading flush. Edward stared at Alphonse, and then back at Winry. His eyes began to travel down from her face to her neck, over her generous bosom and slim waist to her legs. He could see her long bare legs, her very sexy legs. He felt the warmth of her skin pressed against his and imagined he also felt her pulse going ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. He swallowed hard before his face reddened with such heat it was almost painful. It actually felt as if his fever had come back.

He didn't know what to say, but that was all right because both Winry and Alphonse were also at a loss for words. Until a man with dark hair and a patch over his left eye poked his head in the door. His remaining eye was alight with amusement. Or maybe malice; or perhaps a combination of both.

"Fullmetal, don't you think you should wait until you've recovered before you start snogging with your girlfriend?"

Both Edward and Winry shrieked "WHAT?!" almost in unison, the sound coming out in stereo. Winry's voice was naturally higher pitched, but Edward's had cracked in surprise, shock and a hint of anger to an eardrum piercing tenor yelp that. It sounded like fingernails scraping against a chalkboard, making everyone involved wince briefly.

Edward scowled darkly, cumulonimbus clouds making his visage look threatening. "You shut up, Colonel Bastard! Winry's my mechanic, not my girlfriend!" He tried to sit up and push her away, but stopped and blushed hard all over again when he realized his right hand was curved around her perfect knee. "Me - " the words stuck in his throat and he nearly choked on it, "chanic, wha - "

He locked eyes with Winry, who looked a bit hurt. "Sorry, Win," Edward looked down at her hands, because suddenly, he felt so ashamed of himself and his behavior. Was that the tack to take with a dear childhood friend he hadn't seen in six years?

"Edward?" Winry's voice was small and soft, the two syllable word quivered in the air as if she was close to tears. "Look at me, Ed?"

He did so and immediately wished he hadn't when he saw the "angry Winry" was back again. She was just pretending to be upset. This was the same dark look she'd given him just before she whacked him over the head with that damn wrench. Once she turned her back, he was going to transmute it into something soft, like a stuffed toy. Winry tightened her grip on Edward's pajama top and leaned down to burn a hole in him with her stare. "Tell me something, Ed."

"Y-yeah? Wh- wh– what?" He cursed inwardly at the stammer in his voice, but he was literally scared half to death by now. That tone of voice did not bode well for the well-being of his skull. He resolutely ignored Mustang who now slouched in the doorway with hands in pockets. The bastard continued to smirk, like he was watching a kinky sort of floor show.

"What the hell did you do to my beautiful automail?"

/

No one was more surprised by the survival of Alfons Heidreich than the man himself. On a fine sunny fall morning, a few days after his alchemy treatment his blue eyes simply snapped open and he woke up abruptly. For perhaps two minutes, he lay still in his hospital bed and blinked from the sheer shock of still being alive.

Is this heaven?

Everything was white, so it looked like heaven. But, where were the angels? They should be flying about, dressed in celestial robes, and strumming harps. Then, he scowled at himself for such a foolish thought, as his engineer instincts took over the task of thinking. Angels didn't exist; stories about angels were lies, told to children, and credulous fools to make them obedient.

This is not heaven.

His opinion was confirmed a moment later, when a tired-looking woman, clad in a rumpled white dress entered his field of view. First, she critically examined an intravenous bottle hung next to his bed, frowning slightly, as if it annoyed her. She then looked down at Alfons and did a double take, but she recovered quickly. Her words were short and clipped an economy of words, like her brisk movements. "Oh! You're awake! I'll fetch the doctor!"

I'm in a hospital! Scheiss!

It couldn't have been heaven, anyways. It didn't smell right for one. Heaven was not supposed to reek with odors of unwashed human bodies, bed sheets several days past their laundering date and the sharp tang of bleach. For another, heaven didn't look quite so mundane, a plain square room that appeared to have seen better days. Alfons stared with unfocussed eyes up at the cracked plaster ceiling above his head and briefly amused his brain by making out shapes in the tan water marks that marred it.

Until a patient in the bed next to his right farted with a loud brap! that sounded as if the mattress had been rent in two from top to bottom. Alfons was half disappointed not to see smoke coming from his companion's bed, until the smell drifted his way. He curled his lip with disgust.

Heaven doesn't smell like bleach and gas

He pulled the sheet over his face and breathed shallowly through his mouth. Alfons let his thoughts drift, and his brain darted back and forth between ideas. He thought about angels, heaven, doppelgangers, & Valkyries. Speaking of doppelgangers, where was Alphonse Elric? If he was still alive, Alphonse certainly was, he had to be alive. He would want to live, for his brother's sake. Alfons expected to feel a surge of anger when an image of Edward swam front and center in his brain, but all he felt now was sadness. Chiefly, grief for his friends and colleagues, added to that, sorrow for the innocent people of this world who'd died.

Alfons briefly felt ashamed of being German. The rockets he'd invented had laid waste to cities and his own countrymen had killed hundreds of Shambalans. This hadn't been what he wanted the day he first read a translated text of Goddard's theories on rocket technology. That day, a sickly German boy with weak lungs had suddenly seen his future light up before him: ROCKETS! He, Alfons Heidreich, would make his mark on the world and make the chests of his fellow Germans swell with pride once again. He knew he would die young of this cursed affliction, but before he breathed his last, Germany would be known all over the world as the land of cutting-edge innovations.

Those upstart Americans would be put back in their place. Sure, an American, Robert Goddard had thought of the idea first. But Germans would refine and improve rocketry in the white-hot furnace of technological brilliance. Alfons had dreamed of meeting Goddard, of working with him, but he hadn't the funds to travel to America. But once Goddard learned of what Alfons had done, HE would come to Germany to meet him. He would shake Alfons' hand, and those of all the Racketan Klub. He would admire their achievements and treat Alfons like an equal, he...

The sheet was yanked off his head, and Alfons' fantasy disappeared like a puff of smoke. Standing next to him was the same nurse, but an even more tired-looking woman stood on her other side.. She wore a wrinkled yellow blouse over an equally wrinkled knee-length black skirt. Hanging over the blouse was a stained white coat, the collar and cuffs frayed and dirty. Her blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail with many mutinous strands escaping to wave in her face. One hand was in almost constant motion, trying to push them out of the way, but they only drifted straight back to impede her vision.

A stethoscope lay limply over her shoulders and a chest pocket on the coat bulged with various and sundry items: Alfons recognized tongue depressors and the capped business ends of hypodermic needles. What surprised him most was the notion women could be doctors in this strange world. What other wonders would he get to see before he died? A land so full of surprises as this maybe wasn't such a bad place to be stuck in for the rest of his life.

"Hi", the doctor said without preamble, her words tumbled out in a rush, like they were in a hurry to reach the open air. "I'm Doctor Stephanie; who are you?"

Well, that was abrupt. Alfons decided not to be annoyed by her apparent rudeness.

"Alfons. Alfons Heidrich"

"Well, Alfons, you were brought in without any identification on you, so my thanks for making this easy." She pulled a tongue depressor out of her pocket. "Say 'aaah'"

/

Alfons lay back with a sigh of satisfaction. Two friendly nurses had given him a bath and washed his hair, and now he was back in a bed made up with freshly laundered sheets and pillow cases. Lunch was in the offing; although he would be allowed only a liquid diet, he was assured that the beef broth was simply delicious.

But a bath and fresh bedding wasn't what gave Alfons such a contented afterglow.

That had come when Dr. Stephanie had put the [cold] disk of the stethoscope on his back and asked him to breathe deeply.

"What's the matter?" she asked when he took only a shallow one.

"Breathing deeply hurts – my lungs are very weak – and it brings on a coughing fit. Sometimes, I cough up blood."

He had been flabbergasted when she replied. "Not anymore you won't, you've been healed."

"Healed?"

"Major Armstrong brought in a Xingese alchemist; mostly for another patient, but he happened to see you in intensive care. You were in a coma after surgery to remove the bullet from your chest. He -, I dunno, seemed very interested in you, so he set his apprentice the task of healing your lungs."

"Umm..." Alfons wasn't sure what to say to this, or how he should feel about it.

"Just say O.K. And breathe deeply."

"Okay."

For the first time in his life, Alfons Heidreich breathed deeply, without pain, or coughing.

It was wonderful. It was glorious. He could have burst with happiness.

Then the ward door slammed open and everyone looked towards three figures that stood framed in the space. All three were evidently members of the Armed Forces of Amestris, in those strange looking uniforms.

First, Alfons noticed one of the biggest men that he'd ever seen, a hulking brute with a mohawk, and grand braided mustaches that hung down past his chin. Second was a somewhat smaller, and slighter man with dark glasses, and white hair scraped back and tied in a severe fashion.

Standing almost in the middle between them was a beautiful woman with long blond hair, heavy-lidded blue eyes, and generous hips. She had large breasts that swelled like threats underneath her perfectly fitted uniform. Alfons had seen her somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place her for a moment.

He was thunderstruck when the memory finally came to him.

HER.

The living embodiment of the Valkyrie, who had stood in the open hatch of that tank. She had stared haughtily at him while he lay dying in a spreading pool of blood in the middle of a torn-up section of grass and mud. She grinned at him just then, as if she'd remembered it too. A flash of perfect, very white teeth appeared in that goddess-like face, and a shiver leapt down his spine like he'd gotten an electrical shock.

"You, German engineer!" she barked as she pointed one long finger at Alfons. "Your ass is mine!"

He wanted to go home, or maybe just hide under the bed. He looked around frantically for Dr. Stephanie, or maybe just a nurse, but all the hospital staff appeared to have made themselves very scarce. He swallowed hard against the lump of fear that curled like ice in the back of his throat.

It occurred to Alfons that this world had suddenly become very scary.