Title: The Price

S J Smith

Word Count: 988

Rating: Teenish? If you read the manga, you can read this.

Characters: Alphonse, Roy, coupla OCs

Summary: He blinked at the realization that he could feel….

Disclaimer: *bows to the rising sun and Arakawa*

Series: Manga

Warning: Ummmm…angst?

A.N.: Written for the prompt of 'fallible' for the LJ community, fma_fic_contest.

When Alphonse woke, he was alone, laying on something hard, something cold, something so rough, it felt like it might flay his skin from his body. He blinked at the realization that he could feel and it made him so dizzy for a few seconds, he wasn't sure what was up and what was down or where he actually was.

"Where am I?" he tried to say but the words didn't come out; there was no moisture in his mouth and even that attempt to speak set off a cough that racked his body. The agony of that curled him into a ball, made him shudder and tremble and wish someone was there. Brother? Where are you? Alphonse gasped a deep breath of air and everything went black again.

There was a scent, acrid and painful, feeling as if it was burning the lining inside his nose. It hurt to breathe that air but at least his tongue didn't feel like dried shoe leather any more. Somewhere, he could hear voices, a soothing wash of sound, and he relaxed. If there were voices, he wasn't dead.

Alphonse opened his eyes, blinking, trying to resolve the smudgy white with anything he might recognize and giving that up as a bad idea. He turned his head, thinking that was another mistake from the pain radiating through his spine and up in to his skull, but persevered. There was something green, pale, ugly green, with something brown and Alphonse realized he saw a wall and a door, a mattress on a metal frame. The horrible smell suddenly made sense. Hospital. After the Promised Day. He sighed in relief, ignoring the ache in his lungs. He really was alive.

Where is everyone? Alphonse tried to sit up but only managed to flop uselessly. Muscles atrophied. Probably on a feeding tube. That would explain the nasty taste in his mouth. Maybe that was helping him breathe, though, the plastic tube pinning his tongue down. There was a sound and the door opened, a woman stepping through. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and she rushed to the bed, calling for a doctor.

"It's all right, Alphonse."

How do you know my name?

"Don't fight the tube. It's there to help you breathe." She petted his shoulders and, even through the scratchy fabric, that felt nice. "Now that you're awake, maybe we can see about getting that tube out." The nurse gave him a long once over, making some notes in her chart. "There are some people who will be very happy to know you're awake."

Brother? Alphonse couldn't even squeak with this stupid tube down his throat.

"Ah-ah, don't try to talk. Don't fight the tube." She wagged her finger at him though her smile was sweet rather than strict. "I'll let Dr. Wathen know you're awake and he'll be right in to see you."

Alphonse pouted but around that tube, it was obvious the nurse couldn't see it. He had questions, a lot of them, like what had happened since he and Edward had gone through the Gate. The memory up to the point the Gate opened was clear, even if Alphonse didn't want to remember all of it, of having Pride trying to possess him, of using the Philospher's Stone when he'd sworn not to. At least it was over, finally, everything he and Edward had been questing to reach was finished now. All the mistakes they had made over the years, starting with their attempt to bring their mother back to life, had been accounted for.

The door opened and someone came inside, a man dressed in a white coat, a stethoscope around his neck. He was followed by the same nurse and someone Alphonse didn't expect to see. He tried to sit up, reminded again that his body was far too weak to attempt something like that.

Colonel Mustang shook his head. "It's all right, Alphonse. Just lie still." His eyes seemed tired and the grooves cutting at the corners of his mouth didn't erase with his faint smile. "It's good to see you."

Dr. Wathen checked Alphonse's vitals, calling out the information to the nurse. The sound of her pen on the chart seemed loud and strange and Alphonse wondered just how many things he'd missed out on, over the years, without a body to experience them. All the noises had a timbre, something he hadn't heard while his soul was bound to the armor. He thought maybe he could close his eyes and listen forever.

"Alphonse?" The Colonel's voice drew him back and Alphonse blinked an apology. "No, it's all right. I'm sure you're feeling a little overwhelmed right now." He stepped closer to the bed, now that Dr. Wathen and the nurse had moved out of the way. Alphonse started, as much as he could, when the Colonel took his hand, chafing his too-thin fingers. "You're cold."

"I'll bring another blanket," the nurse said and stepped out of the room.

"I suppose you want to know everything that's happened, Alphonse," the Colonel said, his eyes seeming to study Alphonse's skeletal hand, trapped lightly between his own. "And there is a great deal to tell you. It will make a good story, when you're feeling up to me telling it." He glanced up then, meeting Alphonse's eyes. "But I'm sure you most want to know where your brother and father are."

There was something there, something in the Colonel's gaze, that made Alphonse want to hide. He wanted to tear his hands free so he could stopper his ears, not hear what the Colonel was going to say. The memory was suddenly there in his head, Edward's body, peeling apart; Dad's sad smile as he vanished in a glare of white light.

"I'm sorry, Alphonse. So sorry," the Colonel whispered, and Alphonse knew who had ultimately paid for the Elric brothers' first mistake.