Breaking Point
In the next few days, it looked like the whole world changed. The radio kept buzzing concerning news about the end of the war with Drachma, and the return of the soldiers to Amestris. There didn’t seem to be a sign of King Bradley anywhere, and there had been speculations that he had escaped out of the country. No one was identified as the Führer’s associate either, so no more prosecutions took place. The parliament simply decided it was high time for elections, an event that hadn’t taken place in almost forty years.
Roy had finally got his dream come true, and he hadn’t been the only one. Winry and Scieszka came all the way from Rizenbul as soon as they had heard that Ed and Al had their bodies returned to them, and the first thing that the young mechanic was to place a kiss on Al’s lips. That kind of reunion was almost mirrored by Maes upon seeing Gracia again. Havoc wasn’t an exception, either. Even the news of his wedding with Sarah were well received, and everyone handed their congratulations to the young would-be wedded. Izumi, on the other hand, took another step forward in her relationship with Sig after her own ordeals; the young baby that was recovered from the underground hideout would need loving parents to raise him, and she offered to take care of it.
Even so, there was still one matter that had everyone confused and saddened. Several days later, Beregond was still in his comatose-state without showing any signs of improvement. The world shifted all around him, but he remained lying on the bed, motionless and unchanging.
That was how Al found him on a quiet evening, and the young boy wasn’t surprised in the least. It was always like that now, a sort of established routine. Since he had gotten stronger, he would sneak out of his room with letting a sleeping Ed notice him, and he would go inside Beregond’s room. Though the Gondorian never seemed to realise that there was someone else in the same room with him, Al tried not to think about it; that train of thought wouldn’t help anyone.
“Hey…” he whispered, as if he was afraid that he would wake up the man from his strange slumber. For indeed, Beregond gave the impression that he was sleeping. He had his eyes closed, and his breathing was even and deep. “I’m back.”
Naturally, Al didn’t get an answer back, but that didn’t stop him. He walked up to Beregond and sat on the chair next to the man’s bed. His hands reached for one of the Gondorian’s and clasped it tightly. At first, Al was almost stunned to feel the palm so very hardened, obviously after years of wielding the sword. But then he realised just why he was so stunned at that kind of sensation.
This was the first time that he knew, really knew, what Beregond’s skin felt like.
“This isn’t fair,” he murmured before he could help it. “You always said that I was still that boy in the picture you found, no matter what I looked like. But I wanted you to see me in my body. It would be so good to see your smile as I thanked you for everything you’ve done for my brother and me. Because… I honestly don’t know how things would have turned out if you hadn’t been there, helping us in every step of the way.” Al lowered his gaze, and his hands rubbed the calloused knuckles. “I know you’d probably say that you hardly helped, but… you did. In more ways than you think. Even if you didn’t have to fight Homunculi or solve an alchemic mystery, you offered a listening ear and a kind word when we needed it the most.” A smile tugged on his lips. “Just don’t tell Ed I said that. He’ll just say I’m being corny.”
Al’s smile faded on his lips when he saw that Beregond had opened his eyes in the meantime and looked straight into the boy’s eyes. Al almost flinched, yet a part of him just wondered if that reaction actually meant…
“Beregond? Do you understand me?”
“He can’t. It’s just reflex, remember?”
Al turned around, stunned. Ed was indeed standing on the threshold, and he was regarding at the scene before him in an almost tired manner. The younger boy stood up at once, only to regret it at the next moment as a very bad case of nausea hit him hard.
“Whoa, easy, Al,” Ed said, reaching his brother in just a couple of strides to offer his support. “You haven’t fully recovered yet.”
“Yeah, I know,” Al answered, relieved that his dizzy feeling subsided. “You kind of startled me, that’s all.”
“Sorry,” Ed said and helped his brother back on the chair. “What are you doing here anyway?”
Al wrung his hands. “I wanted to talk to him. They say that’s what you should do when people are in a coma.”
“So we can feel better, not them, Al,” Ed pointed out with a huff.
That hurt more than Al cared to admit. That was probably something Ed must have realised as well, for his expression softened. He even pulled up a chair and sat next to his brother.
“What were you telling him anyway?”
Al shrugged a bit. “Not much,” he replied honestly enough. “I was just remembering.” He smiled and faced his brother. “He really came a long way, didn’t he?”
Ed nodded his agreement. “Do you remember how nervous he was when he first arrived here?”
“Yeah,” Al said. “He was like a lost puppy or something.”
“And the way he’d just blink whenever he didn’t understand one phrase or other.”
“His mistakes always made me laugh.”
“That’s right,” Ed said, chuckling. He feigned a shudder. “Remember when Havoc tried to teach him how to use a gun?”
Al laughed. “‘You shot with your eyes closed?!’” he quoted, imitating Havoc’s incredulity to a tee.
“‘Well, it worked, didn’t it?”’ Ed replied, mimicking Beregond’s sheepishness.
“Oh! And do you remember when he entered the room just when I had polished the floor?”
“I had never seen anyone sliding from one side of the room to the other so fast,” Ed said, laughing out loud along with Al.
And yet that kind of mirth didn’t last long. Al sobered again, and looked at his brother.
“Still… he did pretty amazing things too. I mean… he even talked you into drinking milk.” Al ran his hand through Beregond’s hair, noticing how the man closed his eyes and unwittingly leant closer to the touch. “I’d kill to know how he pulled that off.”
“He transmuted it into cheese.”
Al instantly turned, caught by surprise. “What?”
Ed didn’t answer at once. He just let out a sigh and leaned forward, both elbows resting against his knees and his eyes locked on the comatose form before them. “He told me that he used to hate milk, too; gagged at the mere sight of it. So his mother would give him cheese. He loved that.”
Al’s eyes widened as he finally caught on. “He did the same with you,” he said.
Ed nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Cheese is the most wonderful thing in the world.”
“I didn’t remember that,” Al said thoughtfully.
“Mum would give me a bit at times, but never in front of you. She thought you might decide you didn’t like milk either,” Ed explained, his smile broadening just a tad, only to disappear in moments. “After she was gone, I tried to transmute some, but it wasn’t the same. It was tasty but… I couldn’t enjoy it. Not the way I used to. I guess… because Mum wasn’t around to actually give me that kind of treat, meant only for me.” He sighed, and his amber-coloured eyes drifted again on Beregond’s form. “And then he transmuted the milk… for me… and I could enjoy cheese again.” A tired chuckle escaped his lips, and he turned to Al. “Then I sort of made it a habit. I asked him and Beregond transmuted the milk. Every time. He never asked me why I couldn’t do this myself, being the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People; he didn’t get annoyed once at such a constant kiddy request. He’d just do it with a smile that reminded me…” He stopped as an uncomfortable lump settled on his throat, and it took all his will power to bypass it.
“I guess I should apologise to you for telling you off when you said he was in many ways like Mum.”
And then Ed clenched his hands together forcefully, glaring at them in the hopes of somehow stopping them from trembling.
It was to no avail.
“And now he’s gone.”
The last phrase was spoken so softly and brokenly that it undid Alphonse. Tears sprang up in the younger boy’s eyes and a sob tore from his chest before it could be helped.
At that, Ed wrapped his arms around his little brother’s shuddering shoulders and let him cry in the comfort of his embrace, finally offering him the warmth that he hadn’t been able to give him the last five years.
Ed didn’t know how long he had remained seated in the same spot, still holding Al in his arms. Finally, when grief proved too draining for Al’s weak body and the young boy surrendered himself to the sweet oblivion that sleep offered, Ed placed him on a small couch nearby and exited. He needed some time alone to clear his head.
What he didn’t expect was to come across Izumi. The woman was sitting on a comfortable chair in the corridor, her arms wrapped around a small bundle of clothing. Ed smiled before he even realised it, for he knew who was in that small bundle.
“Hello, Teacher,” he said softly; he didn’t want to disturb the baby. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Since when do you mother me?” Izumi replied, though she didn’t sound indignant at all. Ed easily detected a teasing quality in her words. “I felt like walking for a while.”
“What about Mr. Curtis?”
“He’s gone to warm some milk for the baby,” Izumi said, caressing the little sleepy face. “He’s going to get hungry soon.”
“So you’re really keeping him?”
She nodded. “I don’t know for how much longer I’ll be around… But I’ll make sure he knows I’ll always be there for him.”
“I’m sure he will,” the teen alchemist said, and he meant it. Though Rose was gone, the baby would stay in good hands.
“Do you want to hold him?”
Ed blinked, taken aback at the question. “I’m sorry. What?”
Izumi’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “I’m trying to be nice. I asked you if you want to hold him.”
“Oh, right… Sure,” Ed replied at once, trying to hide the squeak from his voice; mother or not, Izumi was still a force to be reckoned with. As soon as he stretched his arms, the woman handed him the baby, making sure that he wasn’t woken up at the motion. A few moments later, Ed was staring down at a round sleepy face, and caught himself smiling.
“This is amazing,” he murmured, and he faced Izumi. “So what are you going to call him?”
Izumi shrugged. “I don’t know. Got any suggestions?”
Ed shook his head. “Al is better at this than I am, but… I don’t want to disturb him.”
“Is he still with your friend?” Izumi asked, aware what Ed was implying.
“He’s hardly left his side,” the teen alchemist said. “I don’t understand how he can stand it. Just watching Beregond, knowing that he can’t do anything to change that. It feels… wrong somehow.”
“Feeling useless always feels wrong,” Izumi pointed out softly. “You hate that. Don’t you?”
Ed settled with a simple nod as an answer, and he absentmindedly played with one of the baby’s little hands. He sensed Izumi’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted to say something more. In the end, just when he was about to discard such thoughts as figments of his imagination, Izumi dug out a piece of paper out of her pocket.
“This is his, by the way,” she said. “One of the nurses found it in his clothes and she decided to give it to me; I assured her that I’d keep it safe. It’s addressed to you.”
Ed frowned at that; nevertheless he returned the baby to Izumi and took the piece of paper. The teen alchemist was puzzled to see that the handwriting was Beregond’s, and it was indeed a letter intended for Ed.
“I’ll leave you to your reading,” the woman said, standing up. A few moments later, Izumi and the baby were gone out of sight, leaving Ed alone with his thoughts and the letter. Curiosity overwhelming him, the teen alchemist sat down on the chair and started reading carefully.
Edward,
I’m not even sure why I started writing this letter in the first place. After all, I can just as easily say everything to you face to face, can’t I? You’ve always said that I can trust you, and you have proven it to me more than just a few times.
The trouble is… it’s not that easy to tell you. Whenever I have the chance to speak, the words simply die in my throat. Probably because the things I want to say to you feel too much like a goodbye. I suppose they are. I don’t know anymore. But now, as the end draws so near that it’s almost tangible, I realise that I’m swiftly running out of precious time that I can’t reclaim, not this time.
So, here it is: Ed, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I know how unfair it must be that I was offered two lifetimes when you and your brother barely tasted the one you’re already living. Even so, you found it in your heart to accept me for who I am. This world became a less terrifying place for a Gondorian who couldn’t even say his name upon his arrival here.
Perhaps I will survive to see you and your brother getting your bodies back. But even if I don’t… I’d like to think that my death won’t be in vain. Who knows, maybe that was what I was supposed to do in the first place ever since I arrived: to safeguard those who needed my protection.
I know that will probably have you frowning – you don’t believe in fate. Still, promise me, regardless of what happens to me, that you’ll carry on with the same courage you’ve faced all your ordeals. In the end, that’s the one thing that helps us move on, whether it’s courage derived from the strength of our will… or from faith to those who are far wiser and older than us.
Don’t worry about me. It was never your place.
“You were right. They do sound like a goodbye,” Ed murmured under his breath. “Stupid Gondorian.”
Yet he folded the letter and put in his journal with utmost care, trying to control the trembling in his hands. It was all he could do to stop himself from punching the wall behind him, crying out his frustration.
Roy had finally got his dream come true, and he hadn’t been the only one. Winry and Scieszka came all the way from Rizenbul as soon as they had heard that Ed and Al had their bodies returned to them, and the first thing that the young mechanic was to place a kiss on Al’s lips. That kind of reunion was almost mirrored by Maes upon seeing Gracia again. Havoc wasn’t an exception, either. Even the news of his wedding with Sarah were well received, and everyone handed their congratulations to the young would-be wedded. Izumi, on the other hand, took another step forward in her relationship with Sig after her own ordeals; the young baby that was recovered from the underground hideout would need loving parents to raise him, and she offered to take care of it.
Even so, there was still one matter that had everyone confused and saddened. Several days later, Beregond was still in his comatose-state without showing any signs of improvement. The world shifted all around him, but he remained lying on the bed, motionless and unchanging.
That was how Al found him on a quiet evening, and the young boy wasn’t surprised in the least. It was always like that now, a sort of established routine. Since he had gotten stronger, he would sneak out of his room with letting a sleeping Ed notice him, and he would go inside Beregond’s room. Though the Gondorian never seemed to realise that there was someone else in the same room with him, Al tried not to think about it; that train of thought wouldn’t help anyone.
“Hey…” he whispered, as if he was afraid that he would wake up the man from his strange slumber. For indeed, Beregond gave the impression that he was sleeping. He had his eyes closed, and his breathing was even and deep. “I’m back.”
Naturally, Al didn’t get an answer back, but that didn’t stop him. He walked up to Beregond and sat on the chair next to the man’s bed. His hands reached for one of the Gondorian’s and clasped it tightly. At first, Al was almost stunned to feel the palm so very hardened, obviously after years of wielding the sword. But then he realised just why he was so stunned at that kind of sensation.
This was the first time that he knew, really knew, what Beregond’s skin felt like.
“This isn’t fair,” he murmured before he could help it. “You always said that I was still that boy in the picture you found, no matter what I looked like. But I wanted you to see me in my body. It would be so good to see your smile as I thanked you for everything you’ve done for my brother and me. Because… I honestly don’t know how things would have turned out if you hadn’t been there, helping us in every step of the way.” Al lowered his gaze, and his hands rubbed the calloused knuckles. “I know you’d probably say that you hardly helped, but… you did. In more ways than you think. Even if you didn’t have to fight Homunculi or solve an alchemic mystery, you offered a listening ear and a kind word when we needed it the most.” A smile tugged on his lips. “Just don’t tell Ed I said that. He’ll just say I’m being corny.”
Al’s smile faded on his lips when he saw that Beregond had opened his eyes in the meantime and looked straight into the boy’s eyes. Al almost flinched, yet a part of him just wondered if that reaction actually meant…
“Beregond? Do you understand me?”
“He can’t. It’s just reflex, remember?”
Al turned around, stunned. Ed was indeed standing on the threshold, and he was regarding at the scene before him in an almost tired manner. The younger boy stood up at once, only to regret it at the next moment as a very bad case of nausea hit him hard.
“Whoa, easy, Al,” Ed said, reaching his brother in just a couple of strides to offer his support. “You haven’t fully recovered yet.”
“Yeah, I know,” Al answered, relieved that his dizzy feeling subsided. “You kind of startled me, that’s all.”
“Sorry,” Ed said and helped his brother back on the chair. “What are you doing here anyway?”
Al wrung his hands. “I wanted to talk to him. They say that’s what you should do when people are in a coma.”
“So we can feel better, not them, Al,” Ed pointed out with a huff.
That hurt more than Al cared to admit. That was probably something Ed must have realised as well, for his expression softened. He even pulled up a chair and sat next to his brother.
“What were you telling him anyway?”
Al shrugged a bit. “Not much,” he replied honestly enough. “I was just remembering.” He smiled and faced his brother. “He really came a long way, didn’t he?”
Ed nodded his agreement. “Do you remember how nervous he was when he first arrived here?”
“Yeah,” Al said. “He was like a lost puppy or something.”
“And the way he’d just blink whenever he didn’t understand one phrase or other.”
“His mistakes always made me laugh.”
“That’s right,” Ed said, chuckling. He feigned a shudder. “Remember when Havoc tried to teach him how to use a gun?”
Al laughed. “‘You shot with your eyes closed?!’” he quoted, imitating Havoc’s incredulity to a tee.
“‘Well, it worked, didn’t it?”’ Ed replied, mimicking Beregond’s sheepishness.
“Oh! And do you remember when he entered the room just when I had polished the floor?”
“I had never seen anyone sliding from one side of the room to the other so fast,” Ed said, laughing out loud along with Al.
And yet that kind of mirth didn’t last long. Al sobered again, and looked at his brother.
“Still… he did pretty amazing things too. I mean… he even talked you into drinking milk.” Al ran his hand through Beregond’s hair, noticing how the man closed his eyes and unwittingly leant closer to the touch. “I’d kill to know how he pulled that off.”
“He transmuted it into cheese.”
Al instantly turned, caught by surprise. “What?”
Ed didn’t answer at once. He just let out a sigh and leaned forward, both elbows resting against his knees and his eyes locked on the comatose form before them. “He told me that he used to hate milk, too; gagged at the mere sight of it. So his mother would give him cheese. He loved that.”
Al’s eyes widened as he finally caught on. “He did the same with you,” he said.
Ed nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Cheese is the most wonderful thing in the world.”
“I didn’t remember that,” Al said thoughtfully.
“Mum would give me a bit at times, but never in front of you. She thought you might decide you didn’t like milk either,” Ed explained, his smile broadening just a tad, only to disappear in moments. “After she was gone, I tried to transmute some, but it wasn’t the same. It was tasty but… I couldn’t enjoy it. Not the way I used to. I guess… because Mum wasn’t around to actually give me that kind of treat, meant only for me.” He sighed, and his amber-coloured eyes drifted again on Beregond’s form. “And then he transmuted the milk… for me… and I could enjoy cheese again.” A tired chuckle escaped his lips, and he turned to Al. “Then I sort of made it a habit. I asked him and Beregond transmuted the milk. Every time. He never asked me why I couldn’t do this myself, being the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People; he didn’t get annoyed once at such a constant kiddy request. He’d just do it with a smile that reminded me…” He stopped as an uncomfortable lump settled on his throat, and it took all his will power to bypass it.
“I guess I should apologise to you for telling you off when you said he was in many ways like Mum.”
And then Ed clenched his hands together forcefully, glaring at them in the hopes of somehow stopping them from trembling.
It was to no avail.
“And now he’s gone.”
The last phrase was spoken so softly and brokenly that it undid Alphonse. Tears sprang up in the younger boy’s eyes and a sob tore from his chest before it could be helped.
At that, Ed wrapped his arms around his little brother’s shuddering shoulders and let him cry in the comfort of his embrace, finally offering him the warmth that he hadn’t been able to give him the last five years.
Ed didn’t know how long he had remained seated in the same spot, still holding Al in his arms. Finally, when grief proved too draining for Al’s weak body and the young boy surrendered himself to the sweet oblivion that sleep offered, Ed placed him on a small couch nearby and exited. He needed some time alone to clear his head.
What he didn’t expect was to come across Izumi. The woman was sitting on a comfortable chair in the corridor, her arms wrapped around a small bundle of clothing. Ed smiled before he even realised it, for he knew who was in that small bundle.
“Hello, Teacher,” he said softly; he didn’t want to disturb the baby. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Since when do you mother me?” Izumi replied, though she didn’t sound indignant at all. Ed easily detected a teasing quality in her words. “I felt like walking for a while.”
“What about Mr. Curtis?”
“He’s gone to warm some milk for the baby,” Izumi said, caressing the little sleepy face. “He’s going to get hungry soon.”
“So you’re really keeping him?”
She nodded. “I don’t know for how much longer I’ll be around… But I’ll make sure he knows I’ll always be there for him.”
“I’m sure he will,” the teen alchemist said, and he meant it. Though Rose was gone, the baby would stay in good hands.
“Do you want to hold him?”
Ed blinked, taken aback at the question. “I’m sorry. What?”
Izumi’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “I’m trying to be nice. I asked you if you want to hold him.”
“Oh, right… Sure,” Ed replied at once, trying to hide the squeak from his voice; mother or not, Izumi was still a force to be reckoned with. As soon as he stretched his arms, the woman handed him the baby, making sure that he wasn’t woken up at the motion. A few moments later, Ed was staring down at a round sleepy face, and caught himself smiling.
“This is amazing,” he murmured, and he faced Izumi. “So what are you going to call him?”
Izumi shrugged. “I don’t know. Got any suggestions?”
Ed shook his head. “Al is better at this than I am, but… I don’t want to disturb him.”
“Is he still with your friend?” Izumi asked, aware what Ed was implying.
“He’s hardly left his side,” the teen alchemist said. “I don’t understand how he can stand it. Just watching Beregond, knowing that he can’t do anything to change that. It feels… wrong somehow.”
“Feeling useless always feels wrong,” Izumi pointed out softly. “You hate that. Don’t you?”
Ed settled with a simple nod as an answer, and he absentmindedly played with one of the baby’s little hands. He sensed Izumi’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted to say something more. In the end, just when he was about to discard such thoughts as figments of his imagination, Izumi dug out a piece of paper out of her pocket.
“This is his, by the way,” she said. “One of the nurses found it in his clothes and she decided to give it to me; I assured her that I’d keep it safe. It’s addressed to you.”
Ed frowned at that; nevertheless he returned the baby to Izumi and took the piece of paper. The teen alchemist was puzzled to see that the handwriting was Beregond’s, and it was indeed a letter intended for Ed.
“I’ll leave you to your reading,” the woman said, standing up. A few moments later, Izumi and the baby were gone out of sight, leaving Ed alone with his thoughts and the letter. Curiosity overwhelming him, the teen alchemist sat down on the chair and started reading carefully.
Edward,
I’m not even sure why I started writing this letter in the first place. After all, I can just as easily say everything to you face to face, can’t I? You’ve always said that I can trust you, and you have proven it to me more than just a few times.
The trouble is… it’s not that easy to tell you. Whenever I have the chance to speak, the words simply die in my throat. Probably because the things I want to say to you feel too much like a goodbye. I suppose they are. I don’t know anymore. But now, as the end draws so near that it’s almost tangible, I realise that I’m swiftly running out of precious time that I can’t reclaim, not this time.
So, here it is: Ed, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I know how unfair it must be that I was offered two lifetimes when you and your brother barely tasted the one you’re already living. Even so, you found it in your heart to accept me for who I am. This world became a less terrifying place for a Gondorian who couldn’t even say his name upon his arrival here.
Perhaps I will survive to see you and your brother getting your bodies back. But even if I don’t… I’d like to think that my death won’t be in vain. Who knows, maybe that was what I was supposed to do in the first place ever since I arrived: to safeguard those who needed my protection.
I know that will probably have you frowning – you don’t believe in fate. Still, promise me, regardless of what happens to me, that you’ll carry on with the same courage you’ve faced all your ordeals. In the end, that’s the one thing that helps us move on, whether it’s courage derived from the strength of our will… or from faith to those who are far wiser and older than us.
Don’t worry about me. It was never your place.
“You were right. They do sound like a goodbye,” Ed murmured under his breath. “Stupid Gondorian.”
Yet he folded the letter and put in his journal with utmost care, trying to control the trembling in his hands. It was all he could do to stop himself from punching the wall behind him, crying out his frustration.
Subtitles