Disclaimer: I own neither Stargate: Atlantis or Fullmetal Alchemist.
A/N: I'm SO sorry for not updating in so long. Writer's block is a bitch. Unfortunately there isn't much action in this chapter, because Edward is...incapacitated, so to speak. That, and he's still coming to grips with what's happened to him. I hope it is enjoyable, anyway.
Chapter Two
Edward awoke in a state of delirious confusion, aware of only two things: A pain on his right side that was awfully familiar, and an intense hunger that made him want to curl up and die.
He could make out a voice coming from somewhere above him, but he could only understand snippets of what it was saying.
"...Never seen anything like it..."
Something wet was dabbed across his forehead.
"..refused to hurt you! Cut off..."
His head was lifted, and water was poured into his slightly open mouth.
"...deserve to die. He has...humanity..."
His senses were beginning to sharpen, even through the pain of his current state. He could make out a face now. Human, and ever, ever so familiar.
"N..." It was on the tip of his tongue, and he fought through his weakness in order to fully express it. "N..."
"It looks like it's trying to say something," said another voice from further away.
Yet more water was poured down his throat, and he felt even more of his awareness return. He was in a tent of some kind, and there was a wet rag on his forehead. The one who had placed it there was somebody he knew.
"No...a..." He heard two simultanious gasps of surprise.
"Did it just--?"
"He did. Do you know me, Wraith?"
He didn't have the strength to give them a full response, so instead he said the name once more.
"Noa." There.
A pause. A second voice spoke. "It knows your true name, Wise One. How can this be so?"
Edward's head was beginning to clear even more, though now the pain was becoming even more prominent at the forefront of his consciousness. He wanted to warn the woman in front of him to get away. To run as far and as fast as she possibly could. His body was telling him that she was food, and he didn't want her to die. He didn't want to murder her.
"Run," he said, his natural rasp accentuated by his weakness and pain. "Run away, before I-- before you get hurt."
She did not move, though a look of fascination had spread across her face. "Truly remarkable. Never, not even in my visions, have I ever encountered a Wraith with concern for the well-being of humans." She looked into his eyes. "Aren't you afraid to die, Wraith?"
"I am," said Edward honestly.
"Then why do you sacrifice your life for our sake?"
"Because..." Edward paused to think for a moment, not quite sure how to express his thoughts correctly. "Because I...was human once. I can't see humans as just f-food anymore."
"Oh?" asked Noa, intrigued. "What do you see now?"
He wished she would run. "Mothers, brothers, friends...people who would be missed by those who love them." Run. Please, please run.
"You seem worried that you will harm me."
"Damnit...why aren't you running?" That confirmed her suspicions well enough.
"It appears that it does not remember, Wise One."
"Yes," she replied. "It appears he does not."
She leaned over him, and Edward felt his reflexes kicking in without his consent. His right arm made to grip at her throat, and he closed his eyes so he would not have to see the look of horror in her eyes as he drained the life out of her.
But nothing came. No screams. No horror. No feeling of sickening satisfaction. Just the same over-powering hunger remained.
He realized with a jolt that his right arm was missing.
Noa was still leaning over him, her eyes filled with a wisdom that made her seem older than her appearance. "You needn't worry, Wraith. Your feeding arm is gone." She put a hand to his forehead and closed her eyes-- a gesture that reminded Edward of his own Noa. "You have very interesting dreams. Some of the most interesting I have ever seen."
"Wise One...?" The other presence in the tent seemed to be uncertain.
"Ease yourself, Ha'ria. It will take several days for his arm to grow back." She turned her attention back to Edward. "I know that you spoke the truth before, when you said that you have lived as a human. Your dreams have told me as much. But yet..." She frowned slightly. "How is it that you have two sets of memories, Wraith?"
"It's a long story."
"I do not believe that you are going anywhere."
He heard movement coming from Ha'ria. She was leaving. He noticed a subtle shift in Noa's expression, as though she were more at ease. It confused him. Was she honestly more comfortable with him, a life-sucking beast, than with another human? No, no. He must have read her face incorrectly.
"Why haven't you killed me, yet? I'm--" He swallowed thickly. "I'm a monster."
Her eyes softened, and his heart ached at the sight. "You deserve a chance at redemption, Edward. And I deserve one as well."
Edward frowned. What could she mean by that? And how did she know his name?
"There is something interesting that happens to those...'gifted' with the Sight. Other possibilities are more than just meaningless fantasies to us. Speculations, dreams-- we are aware that all of these things are realities. If not here, then somewhere else. Somewhere that we perhaps are unable to reach. Do you understand?"
"...No."
She brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. "The Noa I saw in your dreams-- she and I share a connection. I experienced many of your memories through her. I feel...responsible-- for many of your hardships."
"She--she just wanted a homeland. And those Nazi's probably would have killed her if she hadn't helped them. "
"That does not excuse it."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"I thought that I did."
"You didn't. Not really."
"Why haven't I killed you yet? Hmm..." She looked at him thoughtfully. "How about, seeing as you do not remember, I show you my reasons."
Those words made him feel distinctly uneasy. "What do you--"
He was cut off when she placed her hand to his forehead, and suddenly the world around him faded into nothingness. And then--
The forest was thick and stifling around him, and he was acutely aware of every sound. It was overwhelming to his sensitive ears. He had never felt so claustrophobic in his entire life. He felt as though he was drowning in the noise.
But he could not stop.
He was hungry.
Suddenly, his body stiffened in anticipation. He could smell a human close by.
The hunger throbbed insistently.
He ran.
Edward's eyes snapped open violently, his chest heaving and his body trembling
"Stop it!" He yelled, not bothering to contain his growing panic. It was too much, too soon. He wasn't ready to face the reality of what he was.
Noa gazed down at him calmly. "You have yet to see the rest."
"I don't care!"
She frowned slightly. "Do you want me to kill you?"
"No," said Edward through gritted teeth.
"Well, what do you want?"
Edward growled softly in annoyance. "You're a mind reader, right? You should know."
"I can only see memories."
"So then you should know that--"
"--You wish to become human. Yes. But that's not all, is it?"
He could feel her her gaze like it was something tangible-- a brand that made his skin itch and teeth knash together. Some detached, objective part of him observed that he was allowing his hunger to get the better of him. But damnit-- this Nao-who-was-not-Noa had absolutely no idea...no right--
"It is only natural that you should feel some conflict, you know. Having two sets of memories is not something that can be easily dealt with."
There she went again. "I have no idea of what you're talking about."
"I think you do."
Edward did not respond this time, choosing instead to glare at the top of the tent. The truth was, somewhere inside of him, he did know what she was talking about. Because-- in spite of the fact that his experiences as Edward Elric were at the forefront of his consciousness --he still felt an attachment to his life in this universe. Perhaps it wasn't as strong as his attachment to his human life, but it was most definitely present. Now that he was starting to get over the shock of what Dante had done to him he could recognize that.
It was a difficult thing to deal with, to say the least. One part of him, the stronger part of him, was telling him how utterly disgusting and objectionable it was to subsist off of human life. But there was yet another part, a smaller part, that was saying 'so what?'. It was not like he had chosen to be born this way. Feeding off of humans was no more or less disgusting than feeding off of cattle. Sometimes, he would remember the image of the dead insect being fed upon by ants on that Island with Al, and he would tell himself that nature would inevitably run its course. And it was his nature to feed on humans. Who was he to deny it?
I'm such a hypocrite. I can use the philosophers stone-- an item created from hundreds of thousands of human lives-- to restore a couple of my limbs, but I won't kill a few dozen humans to keep myself alive?
But, worst of all, was the knowledge that both sides of him, however much he disliked it, were him. It was not some phantom, some specter, that was possessing his body. It was him. And any decision he made was ultimately going to rest on his shoulders.
"I think that it is important to see the rest of your memory."
He didn't want to. He said nothing.
"You will not have to face anything horrifying, I swear it."
That wasn't true. One way or the other, he was going to have to become something that he didn't want to become.
"Running from reality will not change it."
Hah! Showed how much she knew.
"Perhaps I should just kill you now and put you out of your misery."
He knew from the cold, matter-of-fact tone of her voice that she was being completely serious. He sighed. "Fine."
She touched his forehead once again.