#Mouth on Belly is the best symbol for greed someone could come up with

[sulky-cabbage]

Something Something Sukuna's main feature being the mouth on his belly which is close to the lower chakra points in the human body something something Satoru's special feature being his six eyes which are close to the higher chakra points

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

Who lives and who dies - Part 11

Angst, nothing but angst here, sorry folks but no soft hugs today. Slight trigger warning for self sacrificing thoughts and lots of mentions of death so make sure you take care of yourself when reading. Slight title changes to the previous chapter might be made because this chapter, the previous chapter, and the next chapter are going to be sort of a 3 parter. Also all relationships in this are strictly platonic unless I specify otherwise. Comments and asks are always welcome :)

Masterlist 

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“Four, Five, Six.”

Dream doesn't want this. He can't kill Tommy, he can't. Despite the young boy's protests, Tommy’s only a child, he’s got his whole life ahead of him. He’s supposed to grow up and go to college and have a good fucking life away from all of this violence and chaos. He’s supposed to have a family and a home and find somewhere where he feels like he belongs, because god knows Dream wants those things. He wants to have a life that isn't threatened by someone elses greed or power hungry revenge plots. He wants to have a home for him and his cat where he can watch movies and grow plants and not have to worry about being shot in his sleep. He wants friends that care more about his well being than what bank they're going to rob next. He wants to go back to before any of this ever happened, when sapnap was kinder and didn’t carry a gun with him every time he left the apartment, when George and him would sit up on the roof until 3am stargazing and talking about George's dream to become a streamer. But now he feels like those people he knew are gone, replaced with violent and destructive tyrants that he can't even recognise.

Dream wants to turn around and give Tommy the biggest hug, he wants to comfort his friend brother and just let Sapnap and George rip him to shreds with their bullets and words. He wants to choose Tommy, he wants to punch George in the face and scream at him for hurting someone he considered family.

But wasn't George his family at some point?

It feels like a lifetime ago, but he knows that they are supposed to be close, closer than they have been in months. The stress and pressure forced a divide between all three of them, with dream on one side and George and sapnap on the other. They haven't had a proper conversation that didn't end in a fight in weeks, let alone actually be nice to one another. Dream can barely remember the last time any of them said they loved one another.

No, that's a lie.

Dream remembers the night perfectly, he thinks about it every time he storms off from another one of his and Georges fights. All three of them were together, sat in a comfortable silence with bellies full of fast food and blankets draped lazily over themselves. Dream is sat in the middle of the other two boys after a super intense pillow fight that Dream had been forced to put a stop to. Sapnap has his feet in Dreams lap, his head is rolled back and every now and again little snores escape from his mouth. George jokes about how much of a child Sapnap is and it makes Dream chuckle. They sit in silence for a while, just letting the movie George chose entertain them for a while. George's head sets itself on Dreams shoulder and Dream shuffles so he can lean into George more. 

“I’m tired.”

Dream laughs and tugs the blanket he and George are sharing further up their body's.

“Go to sleep then stupid.”

George minorly attacks Dream for the comment, but it’s a very lazy attempt.

“Don't wanna.”

“Go to sleep George.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine, goodnight Dream, Love you”

“Love you two moron, g’night.”

George moves slightly so he can get more comfortable before raising his voice slightly.

“Love you sapnap.”

Sapnap gives a small snore in response and the two boys fall into a hushed fit of laughter.

But as Dream looks at his best friend ( Can he even call him that anymore ) he doesn't even know who he’s looking at anymore. Sure maybe Sapnap was always a bit unhinged, a bit too trigger happy, but when everything's said and done, when everyone goes home and tries to pretend that life is normal for a short while, Sapnap takes off the mask ( Quite literally ) and Dream can see that he’s still the same Sapnap underneath it all. But as he looks at George, he can only see his own reflection in the tainted glass of his goggles. Maybe this is God mocking him for what his friend has become. Maybe this is his fault, his fault he dragged George into his own twisted fantasies. Who was he to catapult an innocent person into this life, George had barely even learnt how to shoot a gun on their first heist. He wishes he had just let George stick to hacking, there was no need to bring him into the limelight. He could have stopped this. He could have stopped George from becoming this monster. He could have

Fuck

Dream considers what would happen if he just let Tommy kill him. Sure he would be dead, but other than that was there really a downside? It sounds so morbid when he thinks about it, in any other circumstance maybe he would be worried about his self sacrificing behavior, but maybe this was just what he had to do. If Tommy shot him and he died, then yeah Tommy would be devastated, he would be sad for a while but at least he would be safe. The boy would finally have a home, somewhere he could be safe. He thinks he trusts Wilbur enough to take care of Tommy, he’s done okay so far in Dreams books anyway. Who knows, maybe one day Techno would return and put a stop to all of this nonsense, he would scoop Tommy up and take him away from all this, away from this wretched place. 

But he knows that’s just a fantasy. He doubts George would just willingly give the l’manburgians the eastside, if he thought George would have been that kind then Dream would have stepped down a long time ago.

Fuck why is this so hard

He should let Tommy kill him. It’s the easiest option, he can't kill Tommy, he doesn't want to. Nothing will be fixed if the kid is dead. So why is he hesitating? Maybe it’s because he knows that no matter what he does, Tommy will be hurt. If Dream dies George will take over and make everybody's lives a living hell, Tommy will most likely be killed anyway and all of his friends will either follow down the same path or be run out of their homes with a target on all of their heads. Maybe, if he...

Shit

Maybe if he did kill Tommy, he could make it up to the kid some way. He could make sure his friends are taken care of, make sure George doesn't go anywhere near them, give them independence. He could make sure Tubbo grows up to be smart and make something of himself, if he wanted to go to college then Dream could fund it, make sure he went to the best school, or whichever one Tubbo liked best. He could help Wilbur with his music career, Tommy said he had always wanted to become a musician, so maybe he could rent out one of those fancy recording studios people like The Beatles had. He could help Fundy when he gets into trouble coding and help Eret set up an lgbt youth center or something like that. He could bring Tommy flowers every other day, and then every weekend if he really couldn't make it. Maybe he could get a bouquet of some of those wildflowers he said were pretty when they went out adventuring that one time. 

What the hell is he talking about

This is insane

He needs to focus

Come on dream, focus

“Seven, eight, nine.”

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It’s almost sunset and Tommy is barely thirteen. He hasn't had a warm meal in weeks, not that anybody else knows that, but the glowing light on his face makes him feel full. It’s nice being away from the city like this, just looking out across fields of wildflowers and long grass that makes his nose itch. Nobody knows he’s out here, but then again is there really anyone out there to care? Maybe he’s just destined to be alone, to roam through places like this and drift off into the wilderness never to be seen again. If every moment was like this one then maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if it were then at least he wouldn't be so pale. 

He sits there for a while, just letting the light blanket his body. It's...calming. Tommy misses this. What he misses exactly he’s not sure of, but the feeling of being embraced makes him nostalgic, and it hits him with a wave of overwhelming sadness. The saying ‘Tommyinnit doesn't cry’ is rarely actually the truth. He misses being around people, actual people that don't want to try and mug him or steal his spot in the alley with the least rats. Sure maybe he speaks to Technoblade every now and again, but it's not like the anarchist actually cares about him. Tommy only speaks to Techno when he wants something from him, like if he needs the blond to squeeze into small spaces or spray paint some symbols on a corporate building. Tommy always gets a cut of whatever profits they make that day and then he gets to sleep in a warm bed at the shitty motel for a day or two. It’s fine though, like he said, maybe he’s just destined to be alone. He basks in the light for a little while longer, until suddenly theirs a voice behind him

“It’s late.”

Shit, shit, shit.

Tommy quickly wipes away his tears and hunches over on himself.

“Uh yeah um, I guess I lost track of time.”

“Do you even know what time it is?”

“Uh yeah it's like seven ish.”

“Nine.”

Nine! Shit, all the god spots by the fast food place are bound to be taken by now.

“Shouldn't you be getting home.”

Home, what even is home anymore. The alleyway sure doesn't feel like home. But what else has he got. Phil probably hates him by now, he took that home for granted. None of the other foster families before that had even come close to becoming a home, and he can barely remember what life with his parents was like. So what is home?

“Tommy.”

“Oh uh, yeah sorry Technoblade. I’ll just be going now.”

Tommy gets up to leave but Techno grabs his arm firmly and holds him in place.

“About today.”

He's going to get shouted at, he can feel it. It was his fault they almost got caught, he just couldn't shoot that man. He’d never been in the action directly before, only ever doing menial tasks from the sidelines. But today Techno wanted help in the field and who was he to say no to the blade. It was his fault, he couldn't kill someone and now Techno is going to abandon him and he’s going to starve to death in the shittiest fucking alleyway know to man.

“It's okay if you're not ready.”

“What?”

“It's okay if you're not ready to kill people yet.”

“I- It is?”

“It’s okay to not want to kill people Tommy, but sometimes you don't always have that choice. When the moment comes, and it will come one day, you have to decide in that moment who lives and who dies, you or them."

"W-what if I don't want to die."

"Then make sure the other person does."

Tommy waits for a while, and lets a breath escape from his lips. Maybe there's still time to find a good spot for tonight, if he leave now he can-

“Now come on, I’m making pasta.”

Technoblade turns to leave and Tommy just stands in place, his mouth agape and eyes wide.

“Hurry up child before I change my mind.”

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Tommy gets a warm meal and comfy bed that night, and the night after that, and the night after that, and every night leading up to his sixteenth birthday before there's no one left to cook him pasta or pay rent. Before he meets the next criminal willing to give him a home and keep him safe, before he finds friends and a family and a home. Then someone else cooks him pasta and keeps him company, until he starts a war and gets people killed and all of a sudden Tommy realises that the moment Technoblade had warned him of was coming to a head. 

He has to decide in this moment who lives and who dies, him or dream

And he has to do it now.

“Ten paces, Fire!”

[bisexual-inuyasha]

Promises Made, Promises Kept

AN: Canon-divergent. Ling is absorbed along with Greed, but his philosopher’s stone survives with Ling inside. Ed is told he can save him.

Ed splayed across his bed. Dark smudged under his eyes like shadows. Research was never easy. This research was harder than anything he’d undertaken. So many rules had never needed breaking. He’d never been so unwilling to break them.

A clock ticked beside him. Every second counted down closer to all of this being over. The sound was mesmerizing.

Tick—tick—tick—tick.

His eyes grew heavy. The sky lightened to the east. Ed curled into a ball, clutched his pillow over his eyes, and fell asleep.

On the tray beside his bed, surrounded by the tools of transmutation, a red stone glowed in the sunrise. A vial of similarly colored liquid rested beside it.

There is a way to bring him back. I can show you, for a price. It is all the way, far away in his Truth. Do you want it, Edward Elric?

The world was cold. A hand, colder and empty all the way through, reached for his. He pulled his hand away but it grabbed. When the Truth reached him, it took everything.

He saw a palace, extravagant and golden. A yellow shirt lay resting on his bed in his apartment in the city. A thousand faces pushed against their binding, a thousand souls reached for him. The sun set a hundred times and rose a hundred more and still the only sound Ed could hear was a heartbeat. All the world moved on without him, far away, unattainable.

Hunger gnawed on his desire. Anger burned low in his belly. He reached and reached and nothing found him. Finally, he turned around, unable to watch the world any longer. A pair of eyes caught his.

The last eyes he saw belonged to him—all the way in his Truth. And then Ed disappeared.

Ed jolted awake. The sun poured in through his window. Frost climbed up the panes. Outside, snow surrounded his small mountain cabin. His blanket lay folded on a chair across the room. His jacket lay crumpled on the floor. Ling would be cross with him if he saw the state Ed was in.

He’d probably tell him so with a snarky joke and a gentle touch.

“Yeah, well, if you want to chastise me come out here and do it then.” The stone did not respond. It never did. “I’m going to try a new circle today. Mei says she may have an idea from Xing that could work, but she’s practicing first. We don’t want to hurt you whenever we pull you out of there.”

He swung his legs over the side of his bed. His shoulders and joints ached. His head swam when he stood. He’d forgotten to eat yesterday. From the creaking of his knees, he’d forgotten to drink as well. He rubbed his eyes and hurried to his cabinets. Dust and cobwebs collected in the corners. Everywhere else was bare.

He sat down and fiddled with his braid.

Alphonse would find him soon. When he did, the game would be over for a while. Until he found his way away again. Somewhere new to hide. Some new thread of evidence he could find.

“I hope you’re working from inside get out. I’d hate to find out you were just lazing around.” Ed considered his meal options. He could make his way down the mountain and into town. A small convenience store at the bottom of the trail usually stayed open through bad weather. Sometimes they had jerky sticks he liked. “Would be like you, though.”

Would Ling come out hungry? Would he come back ravenous for all the delights he couldn’t have? Would he be thin as sticks? If he was hungry, Ed wouldn’t be able to feed him right away. Not like this.

Or would being stuck in a Philosopher’s stone be entirely different from being possessed by Truth?

He had asked this question every day for the last three years.

Al said worrying about it was turning him gray.

Al also said Ling had moved on from this world, and he would want Ed to move on from him.

What did Al know anyway?

He couldn’t possibly know more than Truth. And Truth said he could bring Ling back.

Ed shrugged on a coat and fought on his shoes. Just because he had to be cold didn’t mean he had to starve. Shopping wouldn’t be so hard. Probably. The whole money situation would be a hassle but most grocery stores didn’t understand when he explained he was on the run from his brother and so had no access to his savings.

He’d figure something out.

It was a three hour walk down the mountain to the store. If he followed the path. Ed had only become more meandering in his days since the military. So, he took a moment to enjoy the winter. It ached in his bones—in the new hand he’d had taken months to bring fully to strength, in the hollow spaces he neglected with his apathy, in the cobwebs of his memories which could not remember a winter before his mother passed.

Birds still landed on the dead branches. Cardinals. A blanket of white covered the cracks in the ground. Every imperfection lay hidden beneath a glittering foot of snow. Ed wondered if he should miss the days when he wouldn’t appreciate the beautiful snow. In those days he would not have appreciated the absence of the birdsong in the midafternoon. He wouldn’t miss the spill of gold and red of the sunrise he’d slept through this morning. He was too busy looking ahead. Too sure he’d get everything he needed in the end. He didn’t miss things with any purpose. Life was too fast back then but it was easier to ignore the things he didn’t have.

The people, too.

He pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders. A stiff wind blew through his hair, kicking up snow and rustling the last dead leaves clinging to the branches. He could see the light of the shop up ahead. A small radio system played something sappy over the radio. Ed hadn’t listened to modern music in a long time, so he didn’t recognize the melody. The song was pretty, in its tinkering, slow way.

He found a few coins and a 100 cen bill dropped outside the door. It was enough to buy a couple of cans of beans. The dinner of kings.

He even managed to sneak out with a can of soda tucked in his pocket. He was nearly certain the woman at the counter would have let him have it, but found it best to keep her from trouble.

Maybe, if his research didn’t work out today, he’d take a vacation to travel again. Real travelling, with his brother and his new wife. He and Mei needed to swap their findings soon anyway. Phone calls weren’t as helpful as physical copies of the progress she’d made in all these years.

They’d tried every extraction and remodeling they could. Ling’s philosopher’s stone could do a lot of things. It didn’t seem able to remember his body with its limbs in all the right places. Al forbade Ed from connecting Ling’s soul to anything inanimate. Life as an empty shell was hardly worth living, he’d said. He hadn’t looked at him when he said it.

Slowly, on the walk home, the doubts crawled in.

Maybe he couldn’t do it. He hadn’t sacrificed to Truth, not this time. He knew the price would be too high. Life—real life—offered no short cuts.

How could he find someone else’s truth? How could he learn where Ling’s hid?

He just wanted to reach into the stone and pulled him out. If he could see what Ling saw, see Ling’s truth himself, he knew he could figure out how to bring him here.

He just needed a window.

He sat the can of beans in the cabinet. His notebook lay open on his bed. The philosophers stone lay on his bedside table. Someone had removed the stone and the vial from its spot in the center circle. Al had found him.

He collapsed into the chair, on top of his folded blanket and all. He hadn’t expected the end of this trip so soon. He thought he had another few weeks at least. His mind wandered, even as his mouth spoke.

“I guess Mei told you where I went?”

“Not for the reason you think.” Al stepped from behind the bedroom door. A round disc wrapped in a white cloth rested in his hands. “Mei found him.”

Al did not smile. Ed’s heartbeat picked up. His wandering mind snapped back to attention.

“What do you have, Al?”

“He’s not well, Ed.”

Ed closed his eyes. He prepared himself. All the words he’d rehearsed escaped him. He said the only words he could think. “I’ve got to see.”

Unwrapping the disc lasted longer than Ed’s patience. Al looked as tired as Ed felt. Whatever he’d seen in the disc, he didn’t want to share it.

The cloth fell away to reveal a silvered glass, etched with one of Mei’s pentacles. The design of this one was different—alchemic symbols of fire and air alternated at each point. In the center, the mark of Greed glowed faintly red.

“You’ll want to take a step back.” Al ignited the circle. He’d excelled in Alkehestry under Mei’s tutelage. Ed hadn’t benefitted from a lover’s constant guidance, so he was good but not well practiced. He wouldn’t have trusted himself with something like this.

The reflection flickered. Gold eyes shifted to black and back again. Ed reached for the glass. The reflection settled into black eyes, boxed in by unkempt black hair. The ponytail, the easy smile, the lazy posture was all gone. In Ling’s place, Ed found a shell.

Greed, despite his best intentions, had eaten Ling alive. His body was all there, but it was not as Ed had left it.

“Ling?” Ed called to him without thought. The Xingese would be emperor did not stir. His gaze was unseeing.

“I’m sorry, Brother.” Al pulled the cloth over the glass.

Ed grabbed his hand. “No.”

The single word crushed Al. He handed the disc over, quietly went to the bed, and turned his back. He wouldn’t leave. Ed knew this as well as he knew the snow fell outside. But he wouldn’t watch Ed tear himself to pieces over what he thought was a hopeless cause.

“You didn’t have to show me, you know. You could have hidden this. I may never have found him.”

Al snorted. “You’ve been at this for years, brother. I had to bring him to you.”

Al wouldn’t venture any closer to reassurance.

Ed knew what he’d have to do. He’d only try it as a last resort.

“I have food, Ling. Not much, but when I get you out of here, we’ll go for something better.” Ling didn’t move. Ed wasn’t sure the other man could hear him. He talked anyway.

He tried different methods throughout the night. Seeing Ling, he tried some of the old techniques again.

He tried to pull him through, first creating a Ling shell and then transmuting the person into the untrapped version of himself. The method had worked long ago, but the Philosopher’s stone was not a failed attempt at a gate to Truth. The stone was just a stone. It travelled nowhere.

So Ed tried again. He tried opening up the stone from what he could see of Ling’s surroundings. He chose a particularly glum patch of ground and tried to transmute a hole into it.

“I’ve got your jacket somewhere, too. You know, when you get out of there, you probably won’t have greed anymore. You can wear your own clothes again. I haven’t seen you in that yellow outfit in years.” Ed forced himself to sound positive. Ling would be out soon. He had to have hope. Ling hadn’t moved. Only the rise and fall of his chest gave Ed any clue he was alive. Ed wasn’t sure Ling even blinked. No hole formed in the ground beside him. Ed tried again.

“Lan Fan misses you. She checks in sometimes, but she has no stomach for bad news anymore. Mei helped me with research. Her notes say she sifted through the chi of the stone to find your chi markers. Now we’re able to see you.” He set the red vial beside the stone and tried again to transmute Ling from the stone. This time, he planned to have an intermediary vessel—something between Ling’s removal from the stone and the return to his form.

Ling’s time was fading. His lines were beginning to blur inside the glass. Ed didn’t think it was a sudden problem with the alkehestry. No. Ling was losing himself.

Ed didn’t know what to do. Whatever Ling’s Truth was, wherever his gate was, Ed wasn’t having any luck finding it. Attempt after attempt failed. He scrubbed a dozen circles off his floor before Al grabbed his hand one day to stop him. He was holding the disc.

In it, Ling was barely visible. Everything was edged in red. Ling’s eyes were closed. His body arched back, hair pushed up on the wall he’d leaned against. Tears left clean tracks against the grime built up on his cheeks. He said something.

Ed couldn’t hear.

“What’s happening, Ling?” Ed yanked the mirror hard from Al’s hands. Three years he’d been at this. For weeks he’d been able to see Ling. He’d assumed Ling couldn’t hear or feel, that whatever place he was stuck in eroded the senses. Now Ling looked pained. A crack formed down the middle of the glass. Ed lightened his grip. “Ling!”

Ling flickered away.

Panic seized Ed’s chest. For three solid beats, he didn’t breathe. Ling flickered back. His face was blank again. His eyes were open. The tears kept falling.

Ed couldn’t hear him, but he could see Ling’s mouth moving. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he saw. Ling was repeating the same words over and over again. He followed the shape of the lips, cracked and dry.

I want… I want… I want…

“Al.” Ed put the glass carefully onto his bed. The crack lengthened. “Al, I’m out of time. Help me.”

Al turned from the window. “What did Truth say to you exactly, Ed?”

Ed explained the dream to him, how it had been the same dream every time Ed fell asleep since he’d talked with Truth to get Al’s body back. He had never shared the story. Truth had offered him a choice then—Al or Ling. Or at least, he was pretty sure that’s what the choice Truth offered. Either way, he wasn’t willing to risk it at the time. He’d never regretted it. He hadn’t wanted to burden Al with that knowledge. Despite everything, Al would have blamed himself for Ling’s loss. In denying Al this initial guilt, he’d denied himself Al’s help all this time.

“You’re not looking for Ling’s Truth. Ling is stuck in the stone. He has no power over where he is. Knowing his Truth won’t help you. No.” Al rubbed his hands over his eyes. “You’re looking for Greed’s. That’s his stone, right?”

Ed nodded. Greed was supposed to be able to come back using the Philosopher’s stone. All the others had used their stones to regenerate themselves if needed. As long as their stone, and some small part of themselves, existed, they could return. It’s how they lived so long. Ed assumed he’d needed to race against Greed’s regeneration.

He’d approached it all from the wrong angle.

He needed to convince Greed that what he wanted was Ling to come back alive. How did one convince Greed he wanted to give himself up so someone else could live?

Ed rubbed his hand over his eyes. Greed had done it once before. He could do it again. He just had to understand his Truth. As far as Ed knew, only one person had ever been close enough to Greed to know, and he was stuck in a useless stone.

“How can I talk to him? He’s a stone, it’s not like he has ears.” Ed wanted to throw the stone out the window and never see it again.

“There has to be some part of him left or the stone would be gone.” Al shrugged. “I know what you’re going to do, brother. You may as well do it. It’s not like Greed will stop you.”

Ed closed his eyes. Al was angry with him. He could feel it in the distance of the words. He could see it in the slump of Al’s shoulders. “I can’t just leave him, Al.”

“You think I don’t know?” Al’s voice raised, just a little. His temper deflated as quickly as it flared. “We finally get back and still you’ve got to be a hero. I can’t even pretend like I would do any different. Ling was family.”

“Is family. I’m going to bring him back. If I’m not back soon, have Mei make another mirror. Or maybe fix this one. Then you’ll know I’m alright.”

“Ling doesn’t look alright to me.” Al grabbed a piece of chalk. “It’ll be safer if I do the transmutation. Your alkehestry is shaky.”

Going into the stone was easy. Ed didn’t have to create somewhere for himself to go like he had to create a vessel for Ling. He wasn’t trying to get somewhere unknown. Ed was aware of what was being done. It was the difference between walking to the store and asking someone in a different country to leave the same store.

The transmutation still hurt. His entire body burned then turned weightless. He was in the stone but not, as well. Al didn’t need to transmute all of Ed. Only the part of him capable of travelling across gates.

Landing in Greed was not what Ed expected. Ling was nowhere to be found. Souls, tired and already lost, stretched out from the lining of the walls. Their groans chilled Ed’s blood. Some of the groans sounded like words, and those words were familiar.

I want… I want…

Ed walked, searching for Ling while he figured out how to approach his new goal. He had to bring Ling back from the edge—the Xingese would-be emperor was dangerously close to losing himself. But he didn’t have to wait until he found Ling to start convincing Greed.

But how?

Greed had kept Ling this long for a reason. And it wasn’t because he didn’t know what would happen to him once he’d stayed so long being ravished by Greed’s hunger. If he was already willing to sacrifice himself for Ling once, why hadn’t he already done it again?

“Greed, can you hear me?”

The groaning of the walls paused. Everything was quiet. Ed could hear a whisper far away—Ling had not stopped when the others had.

“What do you want?”

“You know why I’m here, Greed.” Ed moved towards the low sound of Ling’s voice. He could see only one wall beside him. Darkness swallowed the others, but they must look the same. “Where’s Ling? He deserves to be free.”

“Can’t, runt. He’s part of me.” The voice surrounded him. It was weak. “The part that’s alive.”

“Not yet he isn’t. He doesn’t have to be.” Ed strained his ears to hear. He was getting closer. “He still has a chance.”

“If he goes, what’s left?”

“You were willing to give him up before.”

“Yeah, when I was—” Greed stopped. The break off hung heavy in the air.

When what? Greed had thrown himself into Father before—there’s no way he could have survived. If Ling hadn’t been determined to save him, he would have died for sure. What could be different now? At least now he’d probably survive.

Ed’s steps faltered. The truth—Greed’s Truth—hit him like a steam train.

“You don’t want to live alone. You were going to die before, and that was alright. But now, only one of you can leave. That’s all the energy left in the stone. So if you let Ling go—”

“I’m stuck here, forever. Alone.” Greed laughed. The sound blew through the space around Ed like an empty breeze. “Never would have bothered me before, but your friend here had to point out that I like having friends.”

“Ling was always too perceptive for his own good.” Ed picked up his pace, keeping his steps even. “You’re going to let him die so you can keep him a little longer?”

“I’m not called Greed because I’m so selfless, kid.”

“You’ll still be alone.”

“I’ll die eventually.” Greed’s voice echoed. He sounded tired.

“If you give him back, I can destroy the stone. You won’t have to live with your loneliness.”

“Defeats the purpose of surviving doesn’t it?”

“Defeats the purpose of keeping him here if he’s just going to die, doesn’t it?” Ed shot back. Greed didn’t respond.

Ed ran. Ling’s mumbling grew less coherent, though Ed was certain he was close. Ling had to be just ahead.

He tripped over Ling’s legs. His shoulder jammed against the ground, one arm jutting out to grab Ling’s shirt.

The mumbling fell silent.

Ling had begun to sink into the wall. Now his eyes were open again. He was watching Ed.

“You’re not real.” Ling’s voice cracked.

“I am.” Ed was just glad Ling recognized him. He tugged Ling away from the wall. Red clung to him, pulling from his hair and clothes like spider silk.

“No. You shouldn’t be here.” Ling lifted a hand to Ed’s chest. He gave a weak push. “There’s no way out. Not even like last time.”

“I’m not all here. Al’s got me back home.” Ed was quiet. He pulled Ling’s arm around his shoulder. Dark hair spilled over his forearm, loose and tangled. “We’re going to find a way to take you out. You hear that Greed?! We’re getting him out of there whether you like it or not!”

Ed wondered if Al was watching, if he could hear them. If Al thought getting Ling back was hopeless, he’d call Ed back without him. Greed hadn’t been promising.

“Al?” Ling’s eyes slid over Ed’s face and down again. “You aren’t real.”

Ling had been here a long time. Ed didn’t know what it had done to his mind. There was a possibility Ling had seen something very similar to this once and it had been an illusion.

“I heard Mei has been practicing her dragon’s beard candy. She says you should try it.” Ed grunted, pushing Ling up onto his knees. “And Lan Fan has gone back to Xing. She says the Emperor is on the cusp of dying. He’ll need an heir soon. You’re famous in Xing already. You’d be even more famous if you,” he grunted and pushed himself to standing. Ling hung from him like a rag. “If you came back from the dead.”

Ling scoffed. Ed took the new response as an improvement.

“I’ve got your clothes at home. I’m ready to see you dressed like you again.”

He didn’t know where he was taking them. They couldn’t escape on their own two feet. The red seeping into Ling’s hair and clothes creeped him out, though. He had to get away from it.

“I’m afraid.” Ling didn’t move his legs to help Ed walk with him.

“Afraid of what?” Ed wanted to keep him talking.

“Of you.” Ling planted his feet, refusing to move.

Ed didn’t know what to say. Ling didn’t explain further. He watched Ed with his dark eyes, gaze steady and unblinking. One hand lifted and cupped Ed’s cheek. Ling’s skin was warm, his palm rough as the day he’d left. Three years hadn’t changed him much. Ed waited. Ling’s hand trembled against his skin.

Ling took a step forward, using Ed’s arm to balance himself. He approached with caution; each step slow. He didn’t stop until Ed’s chest was only a few inches from his. His hand remained on Ed’s cheek.

“You’re not real.” Ling sounded sure. It was not a question. He leaned down, pressed his lips against the corner of Ed’s mouth. Ed didn’t move.

His throat felt dry. His heart drummed so wildly in his chest it drowned out the low groan of the souls around them. A lot of things had been left unsaid between him and Ling. He thought he’d have time to prepare. Now all he could feel was the desperate want of having Ling out of here, of exploring this together.

Ling pressed another kiss against Ed’s cheek. “You look nearly as I remember you. My dreams have gotten creative with your outfit and your new arm. But it is still best I wake up.”

Ed could feel a tug in his stomach, like a string being pulled far away.

Al was calling him back. Too early.

“Ling, please, tell Greed you want to leave. Tell him to let you go.”

“I promised Green I’d never leave without him.” Ling snorted. “I have been telling him for so long. We are the same, Greed and I. We do not want to be alone. Not after finally finding someone.”

Ed clutched onto Ling’s hand, fighting the insistent tug of his soul to his body. “Please, don’t give up Ling. I’ll be back!”

Ed could hold on no longer. His hand fell through Ling’s, and he was gone. He could still feel the press of Ling’s kiss against his cheek.

Anger burned him up. It hadn’t been nearly enough time. Ling could have still come around. Together they may have found a way out. They’d done it before. He pivoted, ready to shout at Al, when he saw the paleness of his brother’s face.

“I thought I was too late,” Al whispered. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

Al pointed to the circle.

Red particulate stirred across the chalk. The vial was empty. The Philosopher’s stone was gone.

Ed’s face felt hot. His body flashed cold. Knees buckling, he fell to the floor. Something must have used the last of Greed’s power. Was it him? Had he somehow used Greed’s power entering the stone?

“Al, I…” Al hurried to his side. His brother had always been quicker to hugs, to comfort, to understanding. Ed crumbled into the embrace and knew what it was to want so strongly it hurt. And no one could give him back what he’d lost.

The ghost of Ling’s kiss lingered on the corner of his mouth. Ed couldn’t even cry. Nothing felt real.

He heard a knock at the door. The sound barely registered.

He hadn’t told anyone where he’d gone. Al had only found him because they were brothers, linked through a bond that drew them together. Al could have found him in the dark across a hundred mazes. No one else had the luxury.

He ignored the knocking. No one on the other side of the door was anyone he wanted to see.

A heavy thump drew his attention again. This time the sound reminded him of a body falling.

He wasn’t even allowed to be in shock in peace.

Al lifted him and placed him carefully on the bed. Ed felt the cracked glass at his fingertips. So close, after so long of trying. Now the glass wouldn’t even work. There was no Ling to see—no dragon’s pulse to find him in.

Al opened the door. He didn’t move or shout to tell Ed who it was. Ed turned his back to the door. The start of tears pricked at his eyes. He just wanted to be left alone. Maybe he and Al could take a trip somewhere. Somewhere new. More places existed in the world than Amestris and Xing. Maybe more types of Alchemy existed too.

“Tell them to go away, Al.” Ed called over his shoulder.

“I don’t think so, Brother.” Al grunted. He was pulling whoever it was into Ed’s small cabin. So whoever it was probably needed help. For once, Ed was tired of helping.

Ed turned to face his brother. “I really don’t want to—”

His protest caught in his throat. Al’s grin practically lit up the room. In his arms, an exhausted and dirty Ling sighed. His clothes were rumpled, red still clinging to the crevices. Ed almost couldn’t believe it.

“So, I guess you were real after all. Greed let me go.” Ling wriggled across the floor. “You always were the charmer. What did you do, use force?”

Ed looked back at the red dust on the circle. “I promised to kill him, so he wouldn’t have to live alone.”

“I see. You were fast to act on your promise. I can’t sense him anywhere.” Despite the relief, Ed heard a twinge of sadness. Greed had been an ally and a friend in the end. He deserved his peace. Even still, he thought maybe Ling would miss him.

“I didn’t do it. Releasing you must have used the last of the power of his philosopher’s stone. He said you were the part of him that was alive.” Ed wanted to rush through all the obligatory exposition of what had happened while Ling was away. And yet, the room could have been the same if he’d found Ling just days after he’d been taken. Three years disappeared like nothing.

“I need to go call Mei and tell her you’ve found Ling.” Al shuffled his way to the door. “There’s a shop a little way down. I’ll be back. Maybe with better food than two cans of beans.”

“I’m starving.” Ling sat heavily in his chair. “Thank you, Al.”

Al very carefully didn’t glance back to Ed when he left. His brother was giving him the chance to use this time however he liked, with no added pressure of meaningful glances. If he wanted to just watch Ling and say nothing, he could.

“I have a lot of questions,” Ling stretched his legs and arms as far as they’d go. “I don’t really care about any of the answers right now.”

“What do you care about then?”

“If you were real inside of Greed, then you remember what I did?”

Ed was too exhausted to talk about feelings and possibilities and why exactly he’d spend three years fighting against the odds to pull Ling from the stone. So instead, he walked up and kissed Ling on the corner of his mouth. He kept his hands at his sides, kept his stance gentle and unaggressive. The last thing he wanted to do was pressure Ling into anything.

“Yes, my aim was off wasn’t it? I blame delirium.” Ling reached for Ed’s shoulder. His grip was not gentle or careful. Ling had been stuck inside Greed, after all. His chosen vice. This time his aim was true. His lips pressed against Ed’s, persistent even as Ed’s surprise made him unresponsive.

Ed kissed back.

They had a lot to talk about, he and Ling.

Lan Fan, Mei, the Emperor. Even, Ed was sure, Ling would want to talk about Greed and all the complications of their relationship. But right now, they did not need words.

The kiss was hungry and angry and awkward all at once. Ling’s lips were rough, dry. His body was too tired to respond, despite his wandering hands. Ed’s fingers kept running into clumps of tangles in his hair or strings of red buried in Ling’s clothes. All too soon, Ling pulled away. His eyes were bright. He grinned sheepishly at Ed and stepped back.

“This is more than I wanted, and I’m not still certain it’s not some dream Greed’s made to appease me, but I feel like I have never seen the inside of a shower. Would you mind?”

Ed hurried back three steps, his hand lingering on Ling’s arm until he couldn’t reach anymore and laughed. “I never expected everything to happen so suddenly. All your clothes are back in my apartment in Central. But I can see if Al brought something—you might have better luck with him. If you want to jump in the shower, I’m sure Al will be back soon.”

His stomach trembled, filling up the tense room with a low rumble.

Ling laughed. “Where is the shower?”

Ed gestured towards the door on the right. “Towels are in the cabinet.”

Ten minutes and a few stolen kisses later, and Ling disappeared into a warm steam. Ed pretended not to hear the broken sniffles. He couldn’t imagine how he’d react to freedom after three years locked in hell. The road to recovery would be long. Mental, physical, emotional. They’d have to take things slow, work things out as they came to it. Already Ed could see that Ling’s grasp on stability was shaky at best. How long until he fully believed Ed, and the rest of the world outside Greed, was real?

But for now Ling was back. And that was enough.

@edling-week