italics are Ed's thoughts.

chapter 17: come fly with me

He wasn't sure exactly what it was that pulled him from the serene depths of unconsciousness; the screams of the wounded (but living) passengers scattered around him, the groans and whines of the settling, shifting metal contraption that had finally come to rest, or that eerie feeling crawling over his scalp that he was being watched.

Or it could be that distant noise that sounded oddly like his name…

"Ed?" It was shaky but strong, close but not close enough.

He cracked open first one eye, then the other. Shadows on shadows on more shadows-you would have thought his previous state of unconsciousness would have prepared his night vision. There was dust in the air, shimmering and covering and hiding more of the space around him than he would have liked. It was in his eyes, coating his mouth and subduing the coppery tang of blood.

In and out, clench and unclench

Everything flesh seemed well enough, around the general pain and stiffness that came with bruising to major areas. It was when he got through to checking his legs that his heart began to beat painfully, adrenaline rushing as his body registered the problem. It was the automail. If he hadn't been able to feel the weight of the limb, he would have thought it'd gotten lost in the chaos.

Don't panic don't panic FUCK Winry is going to kill me rebuild me and kill me again fuck fuck FUCK this isn't good, they're probably still out there and I'm half of a paraplegic and-

"Ed? Brother! Answer me!" A note of terror now.

He felt his mouth move, but nothing came out. Too much, there was too much shit in his throat, caking his tongue. He felt something inarticulate rattle around in his chest. He needed to get up, must get up and find Al and get away. Wary of cutting himself on errant debris, Ed pulled his shaky limbs to himself. With far more difficulty than he would like to admit to he managed to push himself onto his hands and knees (well, knee rather. Only one was cooperating at the moment.) The world swam, and he dug his fingers into the surface below him. Going only on the few senses he had access to, he was fairly certain he was perched on something metal. A few moments of staring at the space between his arms confirmed his suspicions as his sight returned.

He tried again to call for Al to no avail; although this time he managed something scratchy and gargling. It was enough to get the ball rolling, and he spent the next few precious seconds spitting out dirt and blood and (was that grass?) other crap all over the floor. Here and there it caused splinters of light he hadn't even noticed to take on a red tinge (glass, it was probably glass from the windows) which indicated there was probably more blood than he could actually taste. Never a good sign (he'd be lucky if he just walked away missing a tooth or two.)

"Al?" It was hoarse, and weak, but it was something.

"Ed? Ed was that you?! Brother where are you? "

For the first time since he had awoken, Ed looked up.

His eyes had adjusted as far as they were going to, but it was enough. Dark shapes, the outlines of the passenger seats (or what was left of them anyway.) He glanced to the side, brow furrowing slightly at the sight of earth and uprooted grass. It took a moment for it to click, for his brain to put it together. He'd ended up on what had been the wall below the window, the window which was now a gaping wound filled in with dirt and other debris torn up in their wake.

"Ed!" Exasperation had begun to seep into Al's voice now.

"Yea, I'm here. M'okay, Al" Not quite true, not strictly a lie. He wasn't dead, after all.

The wood of the seat in front of him creaked as he used it to pull himself to his feet. It was awkward, what with the dead weight of his metal limb trying to throw him off balance and all. From the new angle he had a better view, one that added in dark shapes that looked very much like corpses strewn here and there. There was groaning, sobbing, the occasional movement but nothing promising (or threatening) yet.

"Al, where are you?"

"Here."

Ed turned himself around, toward the sound of his little brother's voice. They were closer to what had been the end of the car, and he could just see the top of his brother's head in the gloom. There was no point wasting further energy shouting; Ed instead threw himself to the next seat for support, pausing only a moment to pull himself around it and repeat the process. After the third of such maneuvers, he found himself shaking, from the exertion, from the delayed shock, from the sudden lack of adrenaline flooding his veins. He had to pause, to gather himself. Not just for himself, but for Al. He needed composure damn it, he needed to be able to reassure his brother and actually look like he wasn't lying his ass off.

It was as he was standing there, leaning on his forearms and taking steady breaths that he heard it. At first it didn't sound any different from the earlier signs of semi-life…until he realized the sobbing had stopped. The groans had gone from people in pain to things that hungered. There was no way for him to substantially describe the difference, but it was there. And it brought back the creepy crawlies.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened and continued toward Al, pointedly not looking behind him. I can't see you you can't see me.

"Al."

Wide golden eyes looked up at him, relief flooding them even as they took in his appearance. Ed lowered himself as gently (and quietly) as he could next to his brother so they were both shielded by the seat.

"Brother, your leg-"

Ed waved off the whispered worry. "M'fine. How about you?"

AL shrugged. "Just a little tired."

His eyes flickered to Al's forehead. "You're bleeding."

It was Al's turn to do the waving off. "It looks worse than it is. It's just a scratch. Really Ed, look. It's nearly stopped bleeding. I'll be fine."

He nodded, a glance toward the other end of the car deciding for him that now was not the time to question the younger Elric's judgment. "Can you stand?"

A nod.

"Can you run?"

Another, albeit slower, nod. "Yes, I think so. Brother….can you?"

Ed felt his face go stony before he could catch it and fill it instead with fake confidence. "Of course, what do you think I am an invalid?"

Al's eyes had slid past him, looking out toward the rest of the boxcar. "Do you remember when that fox got into Pinako's house?"

Ed blinked, unprepared for the odd question. "Yea, we were just kids-"

"And how Den chased it all the way into the tree-line?"

Ed frowned. "Al-"

"Chased it all the way back to its den?"

He nodded. The fox had been a cub, and its parents hadn't exactly greeted the pup with open paws. Den had returned not long after, limping and whimpering and worrying the bite on his leg. Pinako had done everything she could, but Den had lost his leg…and Winry had helped make him a new one.

"I think I know how he felt, brother. When he got to the den and realized the rules had changed."

-earlier-

The last car was just as dim and sleepy as those previous; although here it was obvious this calm had only recently re-settled. Right away Ed could see signs of the earlier scuffle Alucard had mentioned; a few scattered belongings, a few overturned suitcases, the bodies laid out in the back of the car…He made straight for them, letting Repin take care of inspection duties.

As he got closer he noted the jackets covering the faces of the two dead, one man one woman. Sitting near them the four men who rose to the occasion to subdue them. Everyone else in the car was notably sitting as far away from them as possible. And really, he didn't blame them. First one, and then the other three looked up at him, watching him approach with the same grim expression they'd been wearing before they noticed him.

"Stay back boy, ain't nothin for you to see back here."

He scowled at the 'boy' comment (boy, I'll show them boy, I'll kick their asses up and down this train and then we'll see who's the baby little shrimp!) but otherwise managed to keep his composure. Al would have been proud. "Unless your friends there are just having a little nap, I'm going to have to disagree with you." He flashed his watch, although whether it meant anything in the dim lighting was up for debate. "Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist."

The man closest to him (and the only one sitting on the same bench as the dead) frowned, but didn't bother challenging him on the claim. "Well, Mr. Elric can you explain to me why these two folks here just up and lost their minds?"

"Depends. What happened?"

"She started first." One of the other men chimed in.

The ringleader nodded. "Aye, she did. One minute she's groanin like the sickness has her, the next she's clawin at her husband's face like summkinna animal. Before we can grab her he's backed outta the seat too far, falls on his ass and cracks his skull." The man gestured to one of the seat benches; a rather obvious patch of red goop indicating the fall probably did more than give him a headache.

"Then-"The man rubbed a hand over his face, and Ed noticed the bandage for the first time, pink beginning to show in a damning semi-circle. "Then she tries to crawl on him. We managed to get a hold of her, but then…" A glance at the male body. "Then her boyfriend gets up."

"Got up and left 'alf 'is skull behind." Another of the men added, eyes fixed on the stain.

"And instead of retaliating at her he…he goes for us. Both of 'em. We couldn't restrain em…."

Ed nodded, remembering all too well the unnatural strength of the things. "How were they before they…went odd?"

The men exchanged glances and then shrugged. "She looked kinda sick I guess….it got worse just before."

"And him?"

Unanimous head shaking. "He seemed fine."

That's what worries me. Out-loud: "That looks like a nasty cut."

The unspoken group leader glanced at his arm. "Yea, bloody woman tried to take a bite out of my arm like some kinda deranged animal."

"They bite anyone else?"

He noticed the subtle shift in the would-be hero's demeanors, wariness beginning to awaken in them. He also noticed that one of the other three men was trying to make sure his hand was as out of site as possible.

"Why? They ain't got rabies?"

A soft chuckle behind him; he'd almost completely forgotten about Alucard. "Something like that…."

The man paled and once more looked down critically at the body next to him (and the wound on his arm, although that he did as surreptitiously as possible.)

He opened his mouth, fully prepared to snark and bullshit his way into getting the two men to (quietly, calmly) follow him to be quarantined. The space that he'd been about to fill with all of these completely convincing half truths was filled instead with a distant scream and what was most likely the breaking of glass. He turned in time to see something fly past the window, knocking against one of the panes of glass just hard enough to chip it.

And then the lights went out.

One, then two shots fired, Ed holding his breath now, watching the door between the two cars. Everyone else in the car too is silent, watching that same door as the sounds of a struggle reach them over the roar of the wind and the clacking of the tracks.

"Elric!" Repin, drawing his gun as he shouts.

Time seemed to slow as he turned back to the self-made heroes; standing directly behind him now (when did he get up?) the leader of the rag tag band loomed (there was no other way he could think to describe it.) A chill raced down his spine, his mind conjuring up the transmutation circle he'd need to make the man and the floor one. Ed may not have been a boy, but he was still smaller than the man who'd called him such, and the way his shoulder were hunched made him look twice as wide.

Ed took a step back as the man began to wheeze, drool dripping off his shadowed face. They both moved simultaneously, the man lunging as Ed dropped to the floor, releasing the alchemy before 250 lbs of zombie dropped onto him. The floor slid up to bind the man around the legs, Ed moving further from reach as it did. Another growl caught his attention just as its owner managed to topple over the bench that had been between them. The noise from his body gracelessly hitting the floor seemed to snap the other occupants from their stupor. He could see Repin trying to calm them, and Alucard-

The nosferatu's full attention was fixated toward the front of the train.

"Oy, Lying King!"

Alucard tilted his head lightly to show he was listening, but otherwise ignored the alchemist.

"Are you going to help me or-"He placed a well aimed kick to the second man's face, sending him stumbling backwards. "Just continue to be bloody useless?!"

The nosferatu's gaze slid upwards. "We have a visitor."

"What?" He transmuted the man into the back of the bench, then turned back to yell further at his companion. Alucard was gone. "That bloody-"A deafening screech as the brake chord was pulled and the engine continued to pull forward, jolting everyone forward. The chord was released and the passenger cars jolted again. Luggage fell from the racks, people clung to one another and whatever else they could find that was bolted down. Repin was making his way back toward the door they had entered through, hollering something over his shoulder Ed couldn't quite make out over the ringing in his ears. And then the train was jolted violently again, and Repin was gone.

Ed blinked, staring at the swinging door that had only moments ago outlined the conductor. "Repin?!" He made his way towards the front of the car. "Oy, wanker! This isn't the time for hide and-"She blindsided him halfway to his destination, their combined weight throwing him off balance and sending them crashing to the side. Fortunately he hit the tall backing, making it easier for him to throw her off balance long enough to land a stinging blow to her jaw. He felt the bone crack under his knuckles, but there was no response. The head jerked back, but just as quickly it came back; her mouth now leaking blood and loose teeth. He kneed her in the stomach, but that was about as useful as spitting on a fire. For the first time (that he would admit) he missed his automail arm, and the useful all-out-of-options weapon it made. Instead he swept her legs out and shoved as hard as he could. She crashed to the floor and he followed her with a transmutation at the ready. Once she was sufficiently trapped, he leapt over her.

"Repin!"

He made it through to the other car before he had to stop-this time to take in what he was seeing. There was blood and brains spattered here and there, bodies littered just out of site save the few draped over seat backs. And then the ones standing turned to him, as one. Two things became clear to him then. One, Repin was gone, most likely for good. And two, was that he really needed to learn to knock first. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that yes, forward was still the best way (the only way, because Al was up there.) So he took it. A quick transmutation had the floor and seats assisting him in parting the group of shambling monsters, a roundhouse taking out the straggler he hadn't seen in the back. Glass crunched under his feet from the broken windows, wind whipped through the compartment and everything was slick with blood. All of these things he ignored as he dashed to the next car, intent on getting back to his brother.

In every car he passed at least one person had turned, sometimes all of them. He told survivors to bar the doors behind him, to at least keep one car's infection from spreading to another. By time he made it to the car he and Al had originally been lounging in, he could no longer ignore the way the train was swaying. (How fast is this heap going? As fast as it can?) He didn't like the implications.

"Al!"

His brother was standing with a group of people, clearly having just put down someone that'd turned.

"Ed, it's start-"

An earsplitting screech cut him off- in multiple cars, scared passengers had pulled the brake lines. But the train was roaring full speed, the engine car more than likely running in the red. The passenger cars jumped, dancing over the tracks as multiple cars' wheels locked up. Another line must have been pulled, the screech changing to a crash of metal connecting wrong; the car Ed stood in jolted forward, tilting one end up as the cars disconnected. The far end smashed into the car before it in line, giving it just the push it needed to disconnect fully with the tracks. Ed braced himself between two seats as the box car turned sideways and began to tilt. He watched wide-eyed as the tracks became visible through the window, growing larger with each passing second until he was looking down at them, until he had to close his eyes and look away as the windows shattered with impact. He focused on not letting go, not falling out of the window that was no longer a window (a bump, more than likely someone who'd lost their grip and done just that.) The noise was horrific; the jarring of his limbs painful to the point that it was getting harder and harder to feel them. When it seemed their forward momentum had slowed, the car behind slammed into theirs, hitting it at an angle and rupturing part of (what was once) the floor. They were whipped to the side as the car was forced to drastically change its angle, and a moment later they collided with the car in front of theirs. The force threw everyone and everything toward it, including Ed who registered a splintering noise and immense pain before he collided with metal and darkness took hold of him.

a/n: the title of this chapter was born of my suddenly having Frank Sinatra stuck in my head. that is all.