FMA: To Fill A Void

                                                                          TO FILL A VOID
                                                                           Disdain is Born

WARNING! THIS FAN FICTION CONTAINS SPOILERS ON THE 2003 FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST ANIME!

“Well? What are you waiting for?” The voice sent chills down Al’s spine, even as its owner grasped his arm, pressing the knife in Alphonse’s hand to the robed figure’s ribs. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” The cloaked being hissed into his face, “To kill me, am I right? If you’re going to do it, go ahead.” Al’s hands were shaking; part of him knew he should destroy this THING, but the other half recognized the features of his adversary, despite the cruel expression they held.

“Are you really going to back out now?” growled the homunculus that should have been Edward Elric, “Go on; push straight in. My heart’s right there. I won’t stop you.” Al was shivering all over now.

“I, I—” The inhuman magenta eyes, nearly obscured beneath the obsidian hood and hair, met his with a look as sharp and cold as ice.

“You what?” it prompted. “You can’t do it? Isn’t this what you were waiting for? The reason you HUNTED me all this time? Right from the moment you made me, you hated me and wanted me dead, isn’t that right? Well if you want me dead, here’s your chance.”

The knife fell from Al’s hand, hitting the floor with a clatter. The homunculus released him, giving Alphonse a  mocking look.

“I knew you couldn’t do it.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t make threats you can’t back up, ‘little brother.’” Al gave him a look of disgust.

“You’re NOT my brother.” The figure stooped down and lightly grasped the discarded blade in one hand, nimbly twirling it in his fingers as he stood straight again.

“I have his memories,” it replied. “I know his past. I wear his face. I feel his emotions. How am I not him?” He leaned in slightly, still twirling the knife absent-mindedly. “And even if I’m not, how was he so much better?”

“You don’t have a soul.” The homunculus’s gaze darkened. Alphonse jumped back as suddenly the homunculus thrust the knife forward, but realized quickly it wasn’t an attack; he was being offered the handle. Al gingerly stepped forward, took it, and moved back away again.

“You’ll never be my brother,” Alphonse told him with finality. “You’re a mistake, and someday, I’m going to set things right.”

“Oh really?” The homunculus shook his head again. “Don’t delude yourself. You couldn’t do it now, and you won’t do it then, either.” He turned and started to walk off.

“Wait,” called Al. “Where are you going?”

The homunculus paused briefly, but did not answer. Then it vanished into the trees and was gone.

                                                                                     …

It hadn’t always been that way. There had been a time where Al could almost have been happy with the result of his most dreadful mistake. But no more.

It all began on the grim, fateful day that Dante’s plans had come to fruition. The day that Hohenheim was exiled to the land beyond the Gate, and Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist himself, was slain.

In one last act of desperation, Alphonse used the Philosopher’s Stone fused to his soul, throwing all his might into bringing back his lost brother…

All for nothing. IT was not his brother. Alphonse felt despair clutch his nonexistent heart as his soul eyes focused on the result of his human transmutation… A pitiful creature, hidden in torn black cloth. He could see nothing even remotely human in it, much less anything of his deceased brother.

Edward was gone. There was nothing left he could do.

Dante made forward to use what remained of Al’s Philosopher’s Stone for her own purpose, but he could not let that happen. The cycle would end here.

With the last of his strength, Alphonse used the Stone to bring back what he had lost…

And Dante slunk into the shadows, followed by the ravenous Gluttony, leaving unconscious Alphonse, a shivering newborn homunculus, and torn, bleeding Wrath in her wake. She was never heard from again.

When Alphonse woke, it was to a strange sight indeed… He remembered nothing. For the boy, it was as though his mother’s failed revival had just occurred. Confused and afraid, he looked about, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

And then he laid eyes on the two homunculi. Wrath had moved over and now sat beside the newborn, a trail of blood tracing his path. Alphonse’s first reaction was one of pity; he tore clothing from the lush draperies and set about binding Wrath’s wounds. The homunculus said nothing, and hardly seemed to notice him. Then Al turned to the shivering creature, curled beneath black cloth.

“What is it?” He asked quietly.

“He’s a homunculus.” Wrath’s expression was empty as he spoke. “You tried to bring back your brother. Don’t you remember?” Al’s eyes widened; he looked around, fear clutching his heart.

“No… Brother… Brother..! Ed, where are you….?! ED…!!!”

                                                                                      …

Even though the creature was neither his brother nor even human, Alphonse felt the need to help the creature however he could; it was his creation, and thus his responsibility. He was practically its parent.

Bringing the creature and Wrath both to the Rockbell residence, Al hoped they would be able to take the trio in. At first they were somewhat cautious about the strange being Al had explained was a newborn homunculus, but finally they agreed that it could not be simply abandoned.

At first, the creature was simply mute and still, so much so that it almost seemed as dead as the one Al had sought to revive. But after weeks of care, it began to take on a more human appearance, and after 6 months… It could have been Edward’s twin. Now, the homunculus looked almost exactly like him, except for deathly pale skin, vacant blue eyes, black hair and a black cloak that seemed to be a part of him.

The nameless homunculus was still oddly silent, but its gaze suggested intelligence. The curious way it watched the others of the house was almost disturbing. It could only be described as studying them. The homunculus, though still oddly silent, was able to feed and take care of itself. It was LEARNING… It could almost have been a human child.

It took an odd liking to Winry, which unnerved her. Soon the homunculus took to following her around the house, just… Watching. Studying. Sometimes it brought a book as well, and would appear to read, though no one could tell whether it was able to discern the words or was simply imitating them.

And then, suddenly, one day, it spoke.

“I want to be a person.” Winry looked at the homunculus in shock.

“… What?”

“I want to be a person.” The black-haired boy who wore Edward’s face looked at her with curious blue eyes that showed sadness. “I want to be human.”

“… It doesn’t work like that.” The homunculus turned to the new voice. Alphonse had walked in, and looked paler than usual. “You’re a homunculus. You can’t just become a human.”

“Why not?” The words struck Al. He--- No, IT--- spoke like an innocent child.

“You don’t have a soul.” The creature only looked confused. Alphonse started shaking. “You’ll never be my brother. You shouldn’t even exist.”

“What did I do?” The homunculus seemed genuinely distressed.

“You were born,” Al answered harshly. “And I was too naïve to see what you were.”

“Al..!” protested Winry. “He hasn’t done anything to deserve that.”

“It doesn’t have to.” Now the homunculus’s expression shifted from confusion to irritation.

“I am not an ‘it.’”

“You don’t even have a name,” snapped Al, pent-up frustration erupting out in a single explosive rage. “You might look like my brother, but you’re just a BAD COPY, and just like the other homunculi, you’ll turn on us in a second if it suits you!”

“I don’t have a name.” The realization had struck the homunculus hard. Then Alphonse strode out, and Winry, recognizing the underlying pain, followed after…

Neither noticing the distraught boy following behind.

“Alphonse.” He turned and looked at her wearily, his expression one of agony. “You should apologize to him, even if he isn’t Ed.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking for a long time,” he said quietly, “I should… Get rid of it. But I can’t do it. No matter how much I want to.”

“Al, that’s horrible! He’s just a child…”

“A child that will probably kill lots of people someday.” He frowned. “They never turn out okay, Winry.”

“You’re wrong.” They were both startled by the frustrated voice that came from behind them. “I’m not a monster. I don’t want to kill anyone. I just want to be human.”

“And to do it,” Al said darkly, “You’ll eat up human souls. That’s what homunculi do. I know that much from what Wrath told me.”

“You’ll let him be, but not me?” he demanded sharply, “Why? I don’t understand.” Al saw fury building in its expression as it stepped back, its cloak writhing as if alive. Winry and Alphonse backed up a few steps nervously.

“He’s already learned to control himself,” Al answered darkly. “It’s anyone’s guess what YOU’LL do once you decide to find Philosopher’s Stones.”

“So you’re just going to ‘get rid of’ me as a precautionary measure?” the homunculus asked in a cold voice. “You don’t know that I’ll turn out bad. Wrath isn’t a monster.”

“He tried to kill my brother!” Al snapped. “And took his arm and leg. Maybe he’s gotten better now, but he’s done some awful things too.” The homunculus bristled further, and the ragged edges of its cloak began to split, twisting into blades…

“It’s because I remind you of HIM, isn’t it?” The blades extending from the homunculus’s cloak lengthened, and Winry backed off further, alarmed. “I understand you now. You hate me because you wanted him and you got ME instead, a nameless THING that isn’t even human!” As the creature snarled viciously, Alphonse stepped in between, blocking the homunculus off from Winry.

“So now your true colors finally come out,” Al said quietly. “This is what you really were all along.”

“You MADE me into this, Alphonse Elric,” growled the homunculus in response. “You, and no one else.” Alphonse made to use alchemy to fashion a weapon, but he never got the chance.

In the blink of an eye, the right sleeve of the homunculus’s cloak split into half a dozen tendrils that flashed across the room, grabbing Al’s left arm and yanking him forward. Winry shrieked and grabbed her wrench, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Within moments, Al was within an arm’s length of the creature that should have been his brother, struggling to free his hopelessly entangled arm. It was no use; he was entirely trapped. The homunculus’s other hand reached up and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, half lifting him from the ground.

“I didn’t ask to be born, so stop acting like it’s my fault your brother’s dead and I’m not. I didn’t want any of this, but here you are, acting like the victim when YOU’RE the one threatening ME.” The harsh words, hissed into Al’s face, sent thrills of fear straight through him. He expected it to tighten its grip at any moment, but it didn’t. “You know something?” The blue eyes narrowed with undisguised wrath. “You’re not even worth the time I’m wasting here. None of you are. I don’t owe a single human on this planet anything more than DISDAIN. Especially YOU.” The homunculus paused, a contemplative look crossing its face. “Disdain… I like the sound of that. I suppose that could make a nice name for the time being.” Then the dark look returned, and Al’s nervous but determined look was met with furious, inhuman eyes.

Then suddenly the grip on Al’s arm vanished and he was shoved forcefully away, tumbling backward onto the floor. Disdain gave him a silent look of disgust then turned away and, the sharp edges of his cloak melting back into its folds, strode out the door. It closed hard with a reverberating slam. Al sat for a moment where he had landed, stunned.

There could no longer be any doubt. Sooner or later, Disdain would snap. And Al had to make sure he didn’t last long enough for that to happen.

                                                                                      …

“Well, well,” said a cool voice from the darkness behind Disdain. “Looks like the Elrics just never learn. First their mother, and now you. What a joke!” Disdain whirled to face the speaker, his cloak’s edges already splitting into sharp spikes… And found himself face to face with another homunculus. Envy, he recalled.

“What do you want?” he demanded. Envy sneered, and Disdain caught the glint of light off something shiny and RED, half-hidden in his hand…

“Oh,” he replied, holding out a handful of red stones, “I just thought you might like this. Enjoy every bit… They’re forged from human lives, you know…”

And so began Disdain’s descent into darkness… Along the path that would set himself and his almost brother as enemies forever.