(no subject)
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Edward Elric, and he was stuck in a place called Milliways Bar. He was faced with a door that only opened up into a scene of utter chaos. But this didn't stop him from trying it, day after day - his brother needed him, and Ed needed to get home.
Try enough, and a gamble pays off... and one day, the door opened up to a very familiar sight. If he had been thinking, he wouldn't have walked through - he would have taken time to prepare, time to warn people, time to get his act together.
But he wasn't thinking, and he definitely wasn't noticing that there was a body outside the doorway. His body, in fact.
He wasn't thinking, he walked, and... he fell.
--
Falling is a strange experience. Some say it's calming, and some say it's terrifying. Nobody can ever seem to agree on it, except for on the fact it will always end in pain.
And sometimes, just sometimes, you lose things along the way.
Falling into your own body follows the same rules. When spirit meets body, there can be a big figurative crash. For Ed, he loses a few things he most distinctly needed - for example, an idea of why he's on the floor and not bleeding to death like he was a moment before.
For example, the knowledge that he just spent a significant amount of time in a bar at the end of the universe.
For example, a clue as to what the hell is going on.
When he sits up, things don't quite check out as planned, either. One major difference is immediately apparent: he seems to have lost his automail limbs. But he hasn't lost function, because by some hook or crook they've been replaced by real working limbs.
This should make him happy, but all it does is send dread down his spine.
Soon enough, he has his answer. He died, he left Al, and Al reacted by transmuting himself. He sacrificed himself, to bring Ed back - gave him his life back, gave him his limbs back. It was a reaction out of desperation, a reaction out of an inability to let a brother die. Ed understands this, because he's feeling exactly the same way.
And there's no way he can leave it that way.
--
It's impossible to leave it like this. Most would probably say he was being an idiot, wasting what Al had sacrificed for him. But when it comes to his brother, Ed has no concept of what's stupid or smart. All he knows is that things were never meant to turn out this way.
The room is empty, he's free to do his work. With blood, he draws the symbols. He makes the connections: mind and heart, body and strength. Sacrifice.
And with a clap of his hands, he does the forbidden, and transmutes himself. Because Al did it, and they always do things together; because Al is gone, and even if this fails, his brother will not be left alone.
And then it's nothing but a blur.
--
A week later, and it's still nothing but a blur. Ed could have a concept of what's happening to him, and he should have a concept of what's happening to him. But here's the deal: it's nothing he really wants to pay attention to. While he should remember what happened in the Gate, it's yet another hole in his memory. All he knows is he was transmuting himself, and now he's here - back in that other world, back with his father, and left with no arm and leg once more. But he has no automail, either, so he's left to depend completely on his father... a man he's not even sure he trusts yet, let alone enough to leave his entire life in his hands.
He has no idea if he even managed to save Al.
If he's dead, then someone's sure done a great job customizing a hell just for him.
--
Two weeks later, things are a little easier. Through combined efforts of himself and his father, he has some sort of working limbs again. They're not pretty, and Winry would twitch at the sight of them, but they work. He can fend for himself again.
Things look a little better.
--
One month later, he's settled into an actual routine with his father. What's even stranger than that is the fact that Ed's started to trust him. It seems there are some wounds time can heal, and even in a world that isn't his own, there can be some semblance of family.
It's a strange concept, but it's one he can get used to.
Life moves on, in its own sort of way. He's not happy, not exactly - but it's a little easier to accept his surroundings. It's possible that knowing someone else is going through the same thing is more of a help than it should be.
--
Two months later, he starts to remember things about the bar. Vague concepts at first, nothing more than faces ( why was there soup on that boy's head?! ). But the more he thinks about it, the more it clears up.
A strange place. Strange people. Old friends. Another kind of family. And for the very first time in a long time, he finds himself wanting something.
He wants to tell his father all about it, but he doesn't quite trust him that much yet. He'll probably just be declared crazy. So instead he holds these memories close to heart, and watches his step every time he goes through a doorway.
Is it a coincidence that later that week, he finds a door that doesn't lead where it's supposed to?
You be the judge.