For Nina

IX. Snow Storm

The dorms are quiet. Wind howls outside and Al wonders if he's just hearing things, hearing noises covering up the echo of Nina's mangled voice and Ed's firm clap, in his mind. Covering up the beeping of monitors and the restless sounds of a hospital that never sleeps, as well. Even for Al whose tireless tin doesn't need to sleep, is not capable of sleep, it's too much.

The dorms are quiet, at least, until the weather and his own phantoms fill up the empty space. And there are other black holes, he realises, once the howling outside fades – or, perhaps, that's habituation as well. Regardless, Ed's travelling suitcase is innocently lying against the bed. Ed's suitcase with both their alchemy notes and a few texts inside.

Oh why hadn't he grabbed anything from the library to help out? Or from Tucker's estate, considering the man had plenty a text on bio-alchemy? As much as a shudder shook through his metal plating at the thought, Mr Tucker would know best how he'd adjusted the basic foundation arrays, how he'd merged a human and an animal together, and how, potentially, one could go about turning it around.

And how could Mr Tucker do that to Nina, to his own daughter?

And Ed had said he'd done it to his wife as well…

And their own father had left them in the middle of the night, without so much as a backward glance. But Winry's parents had died helping others. Mr Hughes, as important as his job was, always made sure to be there for Elysia and Mrs Gracia. He didn't think Mr Mustang or any of his team had children, but he'd seen their camaraderie and couldn't imagine them abandoning their families like that either. And Havoc had little brothers, if he recalled.

That train of thought didn't occupy him very much either. And he knew why; his soul was itching for his brother back and his mind was itching to crack the conundrum they faced.

He had no way of knowing what circle his brother had used, but he had seen a glimpse of Mr Tucker's. His memory mightn't be eidetic like Ed's, but he might be able to pull something out of it.

It gave him something a bit more lasting to occupy his mind with.