This was written for a "Bad things happen" bingo thingy I posted on Tumblr.

Anon asked: For the drabbl thing, how about Edward with "take me instead".

Well yes. Sure thang.

Truth was standing before him; that infuriating toothy grin beaming boastfully.

'W-why am I back here?' Edward thought, peering over his shoulder as if he expected to be back in his room. There was just an infinite amount of void as far as he could see. White endlessness of absolutely nothing.

Behind Truth, was the gate. The large murals hovering over him, and Ed felt a surge through his stomach by the memory of being pulled by black ethereal hands and rushed through the dimension of overwhelming knowledge.

"Hello, Edward," the sharp voice called out, demanding the teen's attention. Edward took a few aggressive steps forward with a raised fist and paused.

His arm was back, he realized numbly. He blinked at it, wondering if it was real. Then he relaxed his stance and felt his left leg move effortlessly. No pain from a long-needed tune-up, no joints groaning from misuse, or irritation to the skin where metal met flesh.

"How did..?" Edward drawled, looking awestruck as he flexed his fingers.

"Do you like them?" Truth chortled with excitement, shifting to stand up.

"I don't understand," Edward answered as he tugged at his pant leg to confirm that there actually was a real leg under there. Sure enough, there it was. All though, the limb felt strange. Foreign. But he reasoned it was because he had been wearing those heavy metal limbs for the past four years.

"I figured you might like them," Truth chirped as it strolled mundanely towards him. "Besides, their real owner won't need them much longer."

A cold chill ran down Ed's spine and he felt his pallor change. "W-what? What do you mean?"

"What I just said." Truth shrugged its shoulders, glancing towards the wary boy, its smirk growing steadily. "What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy! Maybe it's not your own limbs, but at least they will be kept in the family," it laughed diabolically.

Ed couldn't move. Understanding crept up on him slowly. Piece by piece falling into place, forming into a picture in his mind. Again, he raised his arm, closely examining the paperlike skin and its suddenly emaciated appearance. He was sure it hadn't looked like that at first…

Golden eyes widened in terror.

"Al!" he realized out loud and took a step back. The weak leg crumbled under his weight, his knee (no no no not his, Al's! Al's knee-) buckled and he toppled over. Edward landed painfully on his hip, scrambling on the ground and started crawling away from the sound of the enigmatic being's low giggles.

What was going on? What did Truth mean by Al not needing his arm and leg anymore? They were going to get his body back, and he absolutely would need his limbs!

Edward had already taken so much away from his little brother, he would rather have no arms or legs at all than for Alphonse to miss a single strand of hair from his body when they got it back! Edward would not take those away from him, even if he had to sacrifice his heart to get them back to him!

The thought of his little brother's arm and leg substituting for his own made him sick to his core. This was wrong!

Determined, Edward steadied himself to a sitting position, using his healthy left arm. But, he couldn't see Truth anywhere. In the featureless creature's place, sat a gaunt figure, crossed-legged and sickly. Long golden hair cascaded beneath fatigue shoulders, ribs protruding from his chest, and a solemn smile on thin lips. Missing from the boy, was a right arm and left leg.

In a moment's confusion, Edward thought it was himself that sat there. Him from some alternate reality. The Gate had changed too.

Only for a moment, Edward lingered in uncertainty. The emaciated boy tilted his head and looked directly at him, and Edward felt his breath hitch. Never in his life would he mistake those hazel orbs.

"Al!" Edward shrieked as he fought to move, crawling towards his younger brother. It felt like something was pulling him back, like an invisible rubber line wanting to pull him back. The more he struggled forward, the distance between then only increased.

"Alphonse, I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry! You will get them back, I swear!" Ed wailed, struggling forward on hands and knees. "Okay? Please say something!"

Alphonse didn't respond. He just sat there with the same patient smile, eyes tired and so, so thin. It was like he was staring right through him, lost in the void.

"Your brother's presence in your world is weakening," Truth's voice rang through the empty space. Edward looked up, searching for the Godlike creature while frantically reaching for his younger brother. A rumble was heard and the ground shook. A blinding white light emitted from the slit doors that protected Alphonse's Gate.

"No," Ed cried distraughtly and forced himself to his feet and tried to run.

"There is no use Edward. Your brother's soul wants to join its original vessel soon."

Again, Edward yelled his brother's name, ignoring the chilling voice and refusing to believe that they were already running out of time. He limped as fast as he could while stretching both of his arms (not his! ) out for his brother.

The black arms wormed their way from the dizzying universe inside the Gate, starting to pull on Alphonse's body.

"No! No, please!" Edward wept and picked up his pace. "Please, don't take him! Take me instead! I'll do anything! "

For the first time, it seemed like Alphonse really noticed him- his eyes were fixed on Ed and Ed alone. He didn't look scared, just resolute. Like he had accepted his faith and was ready to be taken away.

As dark arms tangled around his body, his smile broadened and he gave his older brother a crescent-eyed smile.

"Wait! Don't take him! Take me instead! I did it, not him! You- you can have anything- just please bring him back-" Ed was broken off by a heartwrenching wail of intense agony. Alphonse was screaming as the Gate tore his body apart, limbs turning black and vanishing into the surge of distorted pictures and eye shattering light.

"No!" Edward collapsed to the ground, sobbing as his brother was devoured by his sin, clawing at the ground, pulling his hair out and choking on his own tears. The Gate was gone. His brother was gone. Everything had been taken away and there was nothing left. Like the space around him. Consuming everything, containing nothing.

Images of Alphonse as a plump and healthy ten-year-old flickered through his thoughts, being eaten alive by those cursed arms. The panic, grief, and desperation he had felt back then were pouring through him once again and he wondered what there was left to give. What would he have to give up to get all of Alphonse back?

A sudden twinge of pain seared through his abdomen. Edward startled and looked ahead stiffly. ' What the hell?'

Again. The pain in his midsection grew until he was unable to restrain himself from screaming. He gasped for his next breath, almost vomiting while his body shook and pulsated. Downcasting his head, he finally realized what was causing the pain, all though, it did little to relieve his confusion of the situation.

One of the Gates's arms had lodged itself in his stomach, penetrating it through and through. There was something strangely familiar with it, but Ed's mind was too clouded to think, to process. All his muddled brain could do, was to wonder what the arm was reaching for.

Then, it yanked back, painstakingly slowly and Ed cried out again. His vision faded in and out, white turning black and back to white, as the foreign object was drawn out of him.

A faint flashback of a pair of large, strong hands holding his shoulders still, and the musky smell of gun powder mixed with wet clothing and blood. Edward also remembered the cold, biting at his fingers and toes, but brushing pleasantly against his feverish cheeks. The only other sensation than pain at the moment.

"Edward?"

'Not you again,' Edward thought furiously. 'Have you not taken enough from me?' But his lips wouldn't move.

Now that he thought about it, neither could he.

"Edward, can you open your eyes?"

It didn't sound like Truth- Truth's voice was shrieking, almost feminine, and violently unpleasant. This voice was deep and grumbly, like a large man's. Almost like Armstrong's (oh god please don't be Armstrong) .

Little by little, whatever that had taken toll of his body let go, and Edward stirred. Flickering eyelashes tickled his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open (he didn't remember when he had closed them). He awoke in a small room. The bed he had been put it was hard, but at this point, his throbbing body was appreciative of anything that didn't involve moving.

Narrow, black eyes peered down on him, as an enormous hand scratched at brown, bushy sideburns. A little behind him stood another man, approximately the same size as the first one, with a yellow mustache that rivaled Armstrong's own.

The past day's events rushed back to him. About Alphonse leaving to meet Winry and Scar's group, the confrontation with Kimblee and the chimeras, the mineshaft, and the alchemy that had taken years off his lifespan to seal his wound. Looking down, he saw that his midsection had been heavily bandaged, and he rested a hand over where the two chimeras had pulled the bar out after he helped them and sighed.

It had just been a bad dream. There was nothing to worry about…right?