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Mere [Eilian Moon Archive]
06 December 2016 @ 03:47 pm

Bridges, Munich to Amestris


Stuck in Munich, Edward agonizes over his fate, and wonders if he'll ever return home to Roy, to Alphonse, and if he does, what awaits him.


My (late) 520 Fic. It's angsty at first, but don't worry, I gave them a happy ending.

Work Text:

Edward walks the streets of Munich at night, attempting to find the familiarity of Amestris in the streetlamps, and in the architecture of the buildings. And then when night finally turns the world hazy, Edward can see glimpses of the world he left behind. Sometimes in the shape of the streets, in the lights that burn behind closed windows, Ed sometimes feels as if he is in Amestris.

And sometimes a little alcohol goes a long way to truly blurring the lines, and then sometimes it isn’t nearly enough to numb the pain – the little tears his heart takes every day that he wakes and sees a familiar face that isn’t really familiar.

The worst is he half hopes at these times that one day it’ll be true and the person he longs to see most will stand there in front of him, that he’ll look into their eyes and he’ll see that they know each other.

It hasn’t happened yet – but when two worlds exist who says that anything is impossible?

He stands in the middle of the street and wonders if these thoughts would be better suited to a rainy and dreary day, one that matches his mood, instead of the clear night sky that mocks him.

Eyes half closed, his hands loosely curled into fists he stares out at the bridge. They had a bridge like that in Amestris.

If he talks a couple steps, maybe he’ll get lucky and the vision will last long enough to sustain him. His fingers tremble as he takes ahold of the railing and starts across, and halfway there his legs give out and he sits down on the hard planking. He can hear the water rushing beneath him, and for a moment he agonizes over everything he’s lost.

He hears footsteps and with sheer force of will he looks up. Heidrich hovers over him, concern written all over his face. He proffers a hand and Ed reluctantly takes it, and Heidrich  pulls him to his feet.

“Let’s go home, Edward.”

And Ed feels gut wrenching pain. It doubles him over and Heidrich supports him all the way back to where they live. Heidrich will never understand Ed’s pain, he thinks it is all a story, something Ed fabricated one day. Ed doesn’t challenge that assumption, because who would believe that Ed came from another world?

Ed will never call Munich home, it isn’t home. Home is in another world, another place. They stagger through their front door and Heidrich grunts as he dumps Ed onto the couch. Ed’s fingers dig into the couch cushion as he tries not to wail. Heidrich doesn’t need to see him weak like this.

He’s not strong enough, he’s never been strong enough. Not one single time. Al’s always been the strong one. Ed takes deep, shuddering breaths and somewhere along the way he falls asleep.

Dreaming isn’t any easier, it brings the glaring truth into stark reality. He hadn’t known what he’d lost until the moment he made his choice – he’d seen what they could have had.

But he’d done the damn right thing, not thinking of himself. He’d sacrificed his happiness for the greater good. He’s never won, not once. He’s desperate, he longs to be elsewhere and if he dreams deeply enough. Well, sometimes he manages to believe he’s never left at all. There, their fingertips touch gently, pressing, and parting. Soft brushing of mouths, the taste of something, the smell of smoke and flames for just a moment before he comes back to reality.

Ed sits up in the bed, his hair tangling around his face, his breathing uneven. The wan light in the room shifts as he looks around. He’d fallen asleep on the couch…why was he in his bedroom?

The sheets also don’t look like his – but they’re familiar all the same. He staggers to the window to press a hand to the frosted glass. His breath stutters for a moment, fogging the glass.

A dream. A dream of the past. A dream he’d thought he’d left behind once and for all, a dream which he’d thought he’d wake from. His fingers curl against the glass and he leans his forehead against it, great big sobs contained in his body.

The warmth of the bed is no longer tempting, he doesn’t think he can sleep now. He rests his cheek against the cool glass and watches as the city slowly begins to come alive. He sees the children getting ready for their school day, parents kissing each other goodbye, just the simple life things.

The tears trickle from his eyes unbidden, unwanted. He’d thought he’d left this behind too. Some mornings he woke up still thinking he was elsewhere.

Al is happy, that is all that matters, Ed often tells himself. He’s sacrificed his own happiness enough to know that. He closes his eyes for a second as more tears come. Ed’s never been more vulnerable. More in pain.

Footsteps behind him. Careful. Considerate. Hands land on his shoulders and smooth down his arms, and then there is a warm chest against his back and a chin on his head.

There are no “are you okay” or “will you be okay” questions because those questions are already answered. No, he is not okay and maybe he will be okay in the future. Perhaps one day when he leaves behind all this pain he will be okay. Maybe one day he will heal. He’ll never be whole, he’s lost too much.

But being held helps. Roy will love him no matter what.

Roy murmurs soft nothings against his ear, and Ed turns in his arms, to press one flesh palm and one automail palm against Roy’s chest. Tucked in the safety of Roy’s arms, Ed can say that he’s content. He’s changed though, Munich changed him, but Amestris is healing him. Roy is healing him.

And Ed’s gotten his happy ending – as much as his can be happy at least.

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