automailed | [Action /Voice]

[The week had passed with a certain degree of... something surreal, fake, imaginary. Edward can remember the white room, the gate, but most of all, the emptiness of it all. No Truth, no second gate, no Al. He'd been completely alone. And even his own body had felt as fake as the seemingly endless room; it was detached, uncomfortable. As if- as if it wasn't real-

...But that's impossible, isn't it?

He had plenty of time to debate the theory in his mind, at least. Whatever his body was in that place, it didn't need sleep. And as the hours passed into dull, empty silence, as his shouts and rants echoed back to his own ears, pointlessly, his only gain was a newfound clarity of what Al's nights must be like. If nothing else, this experience has given him an even greater incentive for getting Al's body back.

Nothing lasts forever, though, and eventually - he's not sure when or how long it's been - the simulated Gate of Truth collapses and dissolves around him, leaving only darkness.

And then come the dreams.

They're always different, always so vivid. An unfortunate consequence of an overly imaginative alchemist with ambition. This time it's Al - real Al, Al's body, frail and pitiful and starving, yet smiling at him-

"You'll come back, won't you? You won't leave me here again? It's been so long."

His soulless eyes are empty, yet somehow filled with an unbearable suffering at the same time. It's only been a few days for Ed, at most. How could Al endure years of that place, with only Truth and this same sense of loss to keep him company?

"Brother- why did you do this to me?"

Al, Al, Al, I didn't want-

"I can't go with you."

And Al's gone before Edward's hand can reach him, dissolving from view. Just like all the others.

"You're just running away."

He turns, expecting Hohenheim, but finds only the misshapen, slack-jawed remains of his human transmutation. Not his mother. It was never his mother.

"Why did you create me?"

There's a wrench in his chest as slimy, mangled fingers slide down his cheek.

"Why did you just watch me die?"

Gone, again. In the quiet, in the darkness, he can hear Truth laughing.

And soon after he wakes up, gasping, on the bed of an empty hospital room.]

...Didn't work...

[Once settled and no longer so disoriented (or so alone, for that matter) Edward manages to wriggle over to the bedside table and get his journal open and running. This would be so much easier if his automail was working...

But his automail had been destroyed. He knows that, he'd felt it happen. So Winry must be okay, if she was able to make him replacements. That also means that it's been at least - no, more than - three days since the failed transmutation. One thing at a time, though...]

I'm back. ...Is everyone okay? The transmutation, it didn't-

[....]

Winry? I can't move my automail.

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I remember that much... [ and you're okay, thank goodness. the next time we have a bad feeling we're not doing anything.

he tries to move again - and that's useless. the cymbals just clang together again. but he notices a certain something is missing from this scene... ] Where's Winry?

[Edward glances around, the thought just occurring to him. Have they been out too long? Or maybe she's not visiting right now.]

I don't know, I woke up at the same time you did.

[He reaches over, gripping his automail.]

She must be okay, though- I've got my automail back. That means it's been a few days, maybe a week.

[ still... in a place like this, anything could happen in a few days. ] She'll be back soon, then. [ he a little more confidently that he feels.

how is that creepy, unblinking stare treating you bro. ]

[Not too well, actually; he can't really look Al in the eyes. Because they're terrifying.

Hard enough the first time to come to terms with the fact that his brother was a suit of armor- he doesn't want to start thinking of Al as a monkey toy on top of that.]

Hope so.

[But he'd be happy if you came back for real too, bro.]

[ it could be worse. he could be another nightmare inducing monkey... he's hoping this is temporary. well, no, he's telling himself this is temporary because he doesn't want to deal with it.

... ed's taller than him. ]

I guess we're stuck here until then.

Looks that way. [And it comes back to the fact that he hates, hates, hates waiting around for things to happen. Patience isn't his strong suit, that's for sure.] Ahh, to hell with waiting! Hang on, I'll call her. [Aaaand time for that handy journal message!]

[ AND AL WILL SIT AND BE A GOOD MONKEY. ]

[WHAT A GOOD MONKEY YOU ARRRRRRRE.

And it isn't until later - after all the visits, journal chats, and walk home - that Edward finally gets them back into their room and sets Al safely on the dresser, flopping wearily on the bed.]

Hey... you think we should we tell somebody about this?

[ he'd been hoping he would have changed back by now. just - poof, a suit of armor on the table, rather than a rather alarming looking monkey. the malnosso were certainly vindictive...

he looks down the straight line of vision - and the soul frowns, though the monkey's expression doesn't change. ]

No... If this is only a temporary thing, then we can just say I've been gone until I change back. [ he's thinking about the heavier things.

martel. dorochet. winry's kidnapping... it wouldn't be fair to make them deal with anything more than they already had to right now, even if the two chimera being here would only really affect him and Greed.

the eyes clack shut. what would he say to them? dorochet had tasked him with protecting the girl... and he hadn't been able to keep her safe from her ow recklessness. ]

[Temporary... how temporary is the part that worries Ed, but there's no point in making Al worry needlessly. It's likely that he already has enough to fret about.

And speaking of which-]

...Are you going to meet with them?

[After he changes back, anyway.]

[ that thought is going to keep him awake (har har) later on in the night. no arms means no ability to turn the pages of the stack of books he's been meaning to return.

it's going to be a long night. ]

Yes. [ he has to. ]

[Which is exactly why Edward's going to pull as many all-nighters as he can physically get away with until Al's back to normal.]

They wouldn't blame you for what happened.

[Not that he knows them well enough to say that with certainty, but... well, they hadn't really given off the vibe of being completely terrible people. They'd kidnapped Al, and that was by no means forgivable, but everyone has their own reasons for what they do. After all that's happened since then, the experience in the Devil's Nest seems so much smaller now. And thinking back, that had been their first clue about the true nature of Fuhrer Bradley and the military, so it hadn't been a wasted time, either.]

I know.

[ but they trusted him. on some level, he knows that they chose their own destiny that day... but he blames himself for not being strong enough to protect them. ]

[Edward has no real response to that; what Alphonse experienced in the Devil's Nest is beyond him, a cruelty that he can barely even fathom. To have someone die within your own body is-

...the blood had been bad enough. If their positions had been reversed, he can't imagine being as well-adjusted as Al, was. His brother was just too damn strong.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Edward sits up, leaning forward to peer at the stack of books on the bedside table. He'd made a point of bringing something new every time he visited the library, so they had quite the collection by now.]

Hey, Al- what're you reading now?

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