Disclaimer- I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

AN- Here is our third story for FMA! And, surprise, its not a oneshot!! This will probably have at least two more chapters, if I'm lucky. This chapter is somewhat of a weird prologue type of thing, by the way. Please review and tell me what you think!!!

A note on the timeline- This chapter takes place a year after Edward becomes a state alchemist, when he's about 13. The rest takes place a year later, I think.

He knew what was coming. He always knew what was coming; every single time he had this dream. Yet, each time, when he felt ready to tell himself, no, don't do it, he was overcome by a feeling of giddy anticipation. His 10-year-old self took over, and soon enough, hope filled his entire being, giving him the illusion of invincibility. This couldn't go wrong, he thought, not when it felt so right.

Dream Edward glanced over to his brother's figure; eerily illuminated by the light from the glowing transmutation circle they were leaning over, and felt his lips quirk upwards into a smile. He turned his gaze back to the pulsating light given off by the intricate transmutation circle. His entire body felt alive, partially with adrenaline, but mostly with excitement. He was going to see his mother in a matter of moments; he could practically feel it. His smile widened into a grin as he imagined her smiling at him, telling them how proud she was of them for bringing her back…

Abruptly, the cool blue light grew darker, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly turned dark and foreboding. Ed's eyes widened in confusion as he watched dark black lines spread out from the glowing circle. None of the books he had read on human transmutation had said anything about this. Both Edward and Alphonse frantically watched as an enormous eye opened in the center of their circle, obscuring their view of the materials that would become their mother. Thin black shadows rose form around the eye, reaching out like tentacles, and reached out and attached on to Alphonse's arm.

Alphonse screams tore through the room. Edward stared in horror as he realized that Al's arm was being deconstructed.

"Al!" He cried, desperately trying to reach his younger brother, but falling over as he felt something tug at his left leg. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes as he glanced back at his leg, and watched it be taken apart, the skin, muscle and bone broken as easily as paper. Something suddenly clicked in his mind- this was a rebound. He had read about this in countless alchemy texts, but had never let himself even consider that one might occur during their own transmutation.

"Brother! Brother! Aggghh! Brother!" Alphonse screamed in terror, hopelessly reaching out for his brother. Fear gripped at Edward's heart. It was taking his brother away.

"Alphonse!" His hand was outstretched; he was so close to reaching Al's already deconstructing hand…

The world exploded into a whirlwind of bright colors, which suddenly gave way to a blinding blank white. His mind was blank. What had he been doing? He knew vaguely that it had been important, but he simply couldn't recall. He looked around his strangely white surroundings, until his eyes adjusted enough to see a hardly discernable figure, sitting directly in front of him.

He barely registered their surreal conversation. He was going to see the truth? He barely had anytime to question it, before the thin black hands reached out and pulled him through a huge doorway, while he helplessly screamed in panic.

It was as if all of the information in the world was being crammed into his head all at once. Thousands of images flashed through his mind in a single moment, at such a breakneck speed that he was sure his head was going to explode from the pressure. Through the agony, he was could see a woman's figure just ahead of him, and he suddenly knew who it was.

His mother. In a gesture that felt inexplicably familiar, he outstretched his hand for her to reach; he was so close to her-

He was once more standing before the truth, his arm still outstretched. Excitement coursed through his veins. Human transmutation- the truth was so close that he could feel it. He would be able to see his mother again, after all.

" Please! Show me again!" He pleaded to the strange white figure, his eyes wide in anticipation. The figure simply grinned devilishly, sending a shiver down Edward's spine.

"Oh, but what about the toll?" The truth asked him in his chilling voice, and Edward once again felt the uncomfortable feeling of his leg being taken apart. He realized in dismay that his leg was rematerializing on the figures blank frame, the whiteness replaced with a light flesh tone.

Pain erupted from the stump where his leg had once been, and stars popped in his eyes as he screamed in agony. He was once more in the dark basement of their house, keeling on the cold stone floor. Blood spilled from the open wound and slid slowly across the floor, staining it a sickening deep red hue.

"No! They took him away! Alphonse! Alphonse!" Edward called desperately to his brother, his stomach swooping terribly as he saw Alphonse's empty clothes lying, abandoned, on the floor where his brother had been only moments ago.

"No! This isn't what we wanted! No…" Edward cried. "Help… Someone… Mom," he murmured, suddenly remembering his mother. Had the transmutation worked? The thought of seeing his mother brought a spark to his eyes, but it was quickly stifled as he looked up to see the result of their transmutation. Though he had seen this figure many times in dreams like this, the utter terror and shock it caused him never seized to reappear in full.

The creature's body only vaguely resembled a human; its skin was a sickening dark gray color, ribs protruding painfully through the film-like layer of flesh-like substance. It's limbs bent at impossible angles, as it craned its monstrous face over to watch Edward. He heard it struggle for breath, wheezing until it finally hacked out blood. Edward gasped and edged backwards against the wall, as he stared into its blank eyes, framed by stringy black hair. He was bile rose in his throat as its arm reached out towards him, before it snapped and lay limp on the ground. Blood streamed around the dying creature, its sharp smell creating a rancid smell in the room.

Ed let out a horrified sound, his hands holding his head frantically. He could only manage to utter a couple of choked words, before he felt the bile rise in his throat, and he vomited on the ground.

"No," he panted, gritting his teeth, "We didn't want this… Al. No, it's all my fault." And suddenly, it struck him. The place where he had seen the truth, the gate… That was where Al was. It had broken down his body, had taken it the same way as his body, but it couldn't do anything to his soul. The truth couldn't take away his little brother, he thought, anger surging through him.

He hastily ripped off a strip of cloth and tied it around the stump where his leg had been, careful not to look at the gore surrounding his cut off skin, and then crawled painstakingly to the decorative suits of armor propped up in the corner of the room. He blindly reached out and grabbed the heavy leg of one, pulling it to the ground with a deafening crash. He dragged his lifeless leg to reach the cold metal of the armor, drawing a transmutation circle in his head.

With the wet blood that still coated his fingers, he drew the circle on the inside of the armor's backside.

" Give him back," he growled through teeth gritted in pain and determination, "He's my little brother! I don't care if it's my arm. Or both of my arms!" He cried, finishing the circle, and struggling to move his sluggish hands, heavy from blood-loss.

"You can even have my heart," he whispered, before his voice once again rose to a shout. " Just please! Give him back! He's my little brother!"

Thinking back on it, what he did back there, bringing Al's soul back from the gate, probably shouldn't have even worked. How had he managed to pull Al's soul out, rather than some other soul? The truth wasn't known for being extremely sympathetic to any cause, no matter how noble. Honestly, to Ed, one arm really didn't seem like enough to be equivalent to Al's soul.

In the midst of the despair and massive blood loss, Edward really hadn't been focusing too well on the theory behind his soul binding transmutation. He knew that he didn't have much time, and with every second that Al was gone, his chances of success were becoming slimmer and slimmer, As a result, he didn't think, he simply slapped his hands together and hoped for the best.

But now, for a split second of the dream, he remembered.

Edward bolted upright, breathing heavily, his eyes wide. It took a while for him to realize that he wasn't 10 anymore; he was 13. He wasn't in Resembool, he was in East Central, in a cheap hotel with Alphonse.

He simply sat in place for a moment, not daring to move, in case his epiphany slipped away. His breathing slowly calmed, and he realized that his entire body was shaking slightly. He disregarded the fact, instead focusing solely on the thoughts that swirled endlessly in his mind.

Having had such a vivid dream, a near perfect recount of the failed transmutation, he had experienced the blind terror that he had felt in that moment for a second time. He suddenly remembered the exact thoughts that ran through his mind at the moment that he brought back Alphonse. The significance of that tiny circle of blood on Alphonse's armor had suddenly become clear to him. He didn't take a moment to revel in the unmistakable genius of his soul transmutation, but instead, he threw the tangled sheets off of his still-shaking body, and rushed over to the small desk in the corner of their dank military dorm room.

Edward's human fingers fumbled uncontrollably while he struggled to find his "travel log," where he kept his alchemy notes. He growled softly to himself, squinting in the darkness that obscured his view of the contents of the desk. Finally, his hand felt the thin, worn leather of the small notebook, and he quickly closed his hand around it, and turned to look for a pen.

Suddenly, Ed heard the sound of metal creaking against wood echo through the small room. It was the exact sound that he had unconsciously been dreading. He started violently and spun around, hiding his notebook behind his back, though he knew that it wouldn't be visible in the dorm's dim light.

"Brother?" Al inquired in his boyish voice, the soft, metallic echo accompanying his words.

"Yeah?" Ed asked, trying to keep his tone appropriately chipper and questioning.

"What are you doing?" Alphonse asked, sounding perplexed. Edward let out a breathless, slightly hysteric laugh, and ran his hand nervously through his hair, looking sheepish.

" Uh… I couldn't sleep. I'm, um, going to take a walk for a bit, okay? I'll be back in an hour or so," Ed answered, his words rushed. Before Al could protest, he pulled on a casual, button-down shirt and a pair of pants, grabbed his coat, and burst out of the door. While quickly walking through the shadowed hallway, Edward stashed his journal into his back pocket and hastened his pace.

Edward made his way with a ghost-like stupor through the plain hotel hallway, and out into the chilly, autumn night. He pulled his coat closer around his shoulders as he braced himself against the chilling breeze. Before long, his pace had quickened to an all-out sprint, and soon enough, he stood, gasping for breath, in front of the military library.

Ed had only made it halfway up the steps before a strong arm clamped heavily down on his shoulder.

"Stop right there, boy. This library is restricted to military personnel. You wouldn't happen to be a military officer, would you, kid?" A tall, uniform-clad military guard mocked, much to Edward's chagrin. He was in no mood to argue with disbelieving adults at the moment.

"Actually, I am. I'm a state alchemist, the Fullmetal Alchemist, now, if you'll excuse me…" Ed replied quickly, moving to pass the night guard, but was once again stopped by a firm hand against his chest.

"Yeah right, kid," the guard rolled his eyes, "Even the youngest state alchemist in history wouldn't be that short… You got a pocket watch, pipsqueak?" He laughed tauntingly at the suddenly murderous look that appeared on Edward's face at the mention of his height.

"Actually, I have it right-," Edward shot back, through clenched teeth, reaching a hand down to his belt loop, before finding it surprisingly empty. Cursing mentally, Edward slapped his hand to his head in frustration. His pocket watch must have fallen out of his pocket when he was rushing out…

Without another word, Edward spun around and shot down the steps. There was no point in negotiating with such an aggravating man. The military officer quirked an eyebrow at Edward's rude exit.

"Crazy kid…" he muttered.

Without thinking, Edward found himself weaving through the dark streets of he city, towards the only other place that he could think of that would offer some uninterrupted quiet. So, ten minutes later, Edward burst into East Command, and reluctantly made his way through to Mustang's thankfully vacant office. Applying basic alchemy, Edward picked the lock to Mustang's office with frightening ease. Sinking down into Mustang's couch, he pulled out his notebook and set to work. The theory was miraculously still there, perfect and complete in his mind.

Today, Alphonse and I traveled for eight hours on a train to...

Colonel Roy Mustang had certainly not expected to be dealing with a break-in so early in the morning. But he was pretty sure that he had left the door to his office door securely locked, and he was absolutely certain that he hadn't left it wide open. He liked to think that he wasn't already old enough to be that forgetful.

He ran an irritated hand through his hand, deciding whether to simply see who had broken into his office without backup, or to call Hawkeye to supervise, or, better yet, deal with the whole matter later, and get a strong cup of coffee instead. Sighing, he decided to choose the option that had the least chance of him ending up ridded with bullets, courtesy of his often over-protective First Lieutenant.

So, he marched into his subordinates' office, to meet the sight of Havoc, Breda, Fury, Falman and Hawkeye all milling around the office, not surprised in the slightest that each and every one of them had come in earlier than he did.

"Hawkeye!" Roy called to Riza, who immediately jumped into attention.

"Sir?" She asked, to which Roy's only response was to beckon her to follow him through the hall. Roy carefully ignored the questioning looks that all of his subordinates shot at him before he shut the door.

"At ease, Lieutenant." He said, to Hawkeye, who relaxed marginally.

"What is it, sir?" She asked curiously.

"Probably nothing, but I think that someone might have broken into my office. I simply thought you might prefer to be present while I investigate," He replied, his eyes focused directly forward, not meeting Hawkeye's gaze.

"What?!" Riza's eyes widened in confusion. It wasn't as if breaking into a highly guarded military command center was an easy task. Roy's flippancy was hard to read.

She looked up, realizing that they had made it to Roy's office, the door of which was suspiciously open, but didn't contain much sign of forced entry. Her fingers twitched towards her gun holster. She watched warily as Roy opened the door to his office slowly, cautiously, and walked in with deadly silence. She followed, her hand closing around the cool metal of her gun.

The pair glanced around the room for signs of a trespasser, but, upon casual inspection, it appeared as if nothing in the office was out of place. Suddenly, Riza heard a small, muffled breath from the large couch in the center of the room. Instantly, her gun was trained on the very spot, safety released with deadly precision. Nothing prepared her for the sight that she was met with.

"Fullmetal?!" Roy exclaimed in shock. They both stared, speechless, at Edward, who was dead asleep on Roy's couch, holding onto his worn, black notebook tightly, as if it were liable to disappear at any moment. The young alchemist was apparently oblivious to the two military officers standing over him, one of which had a gun pointed directly at his head.

Roy barely remembered to close his mouth, which was gaping open in a rather unattractive way, before glancing over to Hawkeye for support. When she offered none, he set to the task of waking Edward up.

"Fullmetal!!" He yelled, in the most official sounding tone he could muster. Edward's eyes flew open, and he jumped so violently that he fell to the floor with a loud thud and the clanging of his automail as it hit the ground. He sat up groggily and looked around with a dazed expression on his face, obviously trying to remember where he was at the moment. When he caught sight of Mustang, standing over him, arms crossed and a look on his face that clearly said 'you had better explain this one, and explain it good, or you'd better start running.'

"Oh crap," Edward cursed his situation, his eyes widening in a horror as he jumped to his feet and clumsily saluted Mustang.

"Okay, Fullmetal, care to tell me why you decided that breaking into a military command center in the middle of the night seemed like a good idea to you?" Roy asked, his dark eyes flashing dangerously in a way that could either mean amusement or fury. Edward took a moment to frantically run through possible excuses in his mind, but, coming up dry, decided to wing it. He forced a devilish smile on his face, which, to his dismay, came out more like a grimace.

"Well, Colonel, funny you should ask that. You see, I was just so excited to give my report to you that I came, uh, a week early. But, you'd already left for the night, so I decided to wait for you. Too bad you never come in early, huh? Wow, look at the time- I bet Al's looking for me… Bye, then!" Ed explained, realizing that his excuse had sounded a lot less stupid in his head. Instead of facing the obviously baffled Mustang and Hawkeye, he simply bolted for the door, stuffing his notebook inside his coat pocket and making sure not to look back.

Mustang and Hawkeye stood in absolute silence, staring dumbfounded at the door, trying to vaguely understand Edward's inexplicably strange behavior.

"Sir?" Hawkeye began weakly.

"Yes?"

"There was something off about him, wasn't there?"

"Something?! Everything was off about that kid!"

Once outside of the military building and back into the cool morning air, Edward immediately cursed his impulsiveness. Thinking back, there were about a million of options that he could have chosen as an alternative to going to Mustang's office. Unfortunately, he his frantic, adrenaline filled self had really not paid much heed to common sense.

That aside, he was pretty sure that Mustang and Hawkeye though he was either insane or secretly plotting to kill them in their sleep. His "excuse" was more like him baiting them to investigate his strange behavior.

"Idiot," he muttered, barely audible to his own ears.

Had it been worth it? He was unsure at the moment. He swiftly dove a hand into his coat pocket, fishing for his notes hungrily. The moment he laid his eyes on his treasured possession, he knew that it had been. If it was for Al, even the most drastic measure could be considered worth it in his eyes.

Almost as if on autopilot, his legs carried him in the direction of a park bench, and he collapsed onto it. With shaking hands, he flipped each travel worn page aside until he had reached his most recent entry. He had to see it again, to insure that it had really actually been there to start with. After all, he had barely been in his right mind when he wrote it.

After scanning his coded words for a few seconds, however, his spirits sunk. The happy smile that he hadn't even been aware that he was wearing fading into desperation, and then misery. Everything he had written, every theory, they were all correct as far as he could tell, but…

It would be suicide. Even if things all went according to plan, he would obviously die, no doubt about it. He had escaped the soul transmutation with only the loss of his arm, but this… He could exchange nothing short of his life for Al's body.

With an animalistic growl, Edward tossed his notebook onto the damp grass before him. All of his previous hope, gone in a flash.

His depression soon turned to anger. How could he have even considered this to be a good idea?! What was he thinking?! He was such a moron for believing in such an easy fix!

With no other outlet for his frustration, he could think of nothing else to do but scream. No one was in the area to hear his anguished cry, and when he voice finally died in his throat, he curled into himself on the cold metal bench, hands clutching painfully at either arm, his body shaking with unshed emotion.

How many times would he have to fail before he finally learned his lesson? `

A/N- So there it is! Please, please please review it! I need to know if I should continue this story!