Fullmetal Alchemist Analysis (part zero): “Ego”

Session one. Hello, tape recorder.

So, uh, this is supposed to help me deal with things. I need to finish getting this off my chest before I have to take Maggie to the hospital. The doctors say I only have four months to get my shit together. I'm not going to clear my mind completely just from this one venting session, but if I do a whole bunch of these over the next few months maybe I won't make her want to kill me when it's time to help raise our kid. So, let's get this started.

I think my first thought when I found out about, uh, you know, me, was to get mad at mom. I got myself over that pretty quickly, though. I mean, what the hell was she supposed to have told me? What could she have told me without getting me and probably her killed as soon as I slipped up and blabbed about it to someone? Apparently the other guy was good at keeping secrets, but uh…I guess I never had to learn to be. I don't think I can help but be kind of pissed at her, but I mean, she's dead. What is staying mad at her going to do besides tearing that old wound open again?

I know I'm at least a little safer now. Maybe she'd have told me at this point, what with regime change number three over and done with. Should I be hoping that the records got lost somewhere in the last twenty years, or should I be really, really hoping that they didn't? I don't know. And the worst thing is, I don't think I can do anything to find out without painting a target on my head. Fuck, I'd probably be painting one on Maggie's too. Her little stow-away is half mine, and to some people that might mean that it's half, well…the other guy's.

So, that's where I am right now. Nothing I can do. Nobody I can talk about this with except her and you, and you don't actually exist. I think I'm handling it as well as someone reasonably could so far, but still, those dreams are just getting more and more frequent, and I'm sort of afraid of what the next thing I remember might be. Or, I guess it's more like I'm afraid it might be more than just memories eventually, and then I'm not sure if even God knows what might happen.

I'm catastrophizing again. There's no reason to think things will start going that way. But if I'm going to be a father in a few months I can't afford to be distracted by worrying about it either.

Heh, fuck. When I sat down to start recording I knew exactly what all I wanted to say, and now I can't think of how to say any of it. I should have written down notes. I guess we'll just call this a session, then? Off to a great start, yeah, I know. Well, talk to you later.

...​

Session two. Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. I got everything organized this time, so you're in for a real treat.

I guess the first weird thing I remember, besides the birthmark, was how mom reacted that time she thought I got lost in Fowler's Cave. Or, I guess really it was when she found out I wasn't lost and was just having fun exploring by myself. I thought her reaction seemed a little…off?...at the time, but I mean, I was a kid. I'd gone off on unannounced adventures before then, and I felt like she'd mostly gotten used to it and stopped worrying so much. The cave really wasn't that big, and there weren't any sharp drops or anything, so I thought her reaction was a little disproportionate. Looking back now, heh, maybe it was disproportionate in the opposite way. Was that something a normal kid would have done? Aren't most kids supposed to be scared of the dark at that age? I don't know. Which also means I don't know if I should be looking out for that kind of thing nine years from now myself. Heh, Maggie says she'll be disappointed if any kid of hers is scared of some weak-ass darkness by that age herself, so that helps.

Anyway. I was thirteen when I realized that the cops weren't following us the same way they followed the Fuhrer when he stopped by. The way they watched us, like we were criminals on parole instead of VIP's who needed extra protection. I was discovering history around that time, so I assumed it was just the Bradley regime not being well remembered by everyone in uniform. A little later, when I realized it was really just me they were staring at like that and not Mom, I figured it was because she was an older woman. That's where my Bradley-apologist phase really got started. Heh, we can all be glad I didn't have a tape recorder back then.

That actually brings me to the next weird thing with mom that I can remember. When I snapped out of it later in secondary school, and suddenly she was the one defending her husband at home. Those were the first real fights I ever had with her, and I remember thinking how weird her reactions got sometimes. Like she was angry and also really scared of me at the same time. I noticed, and told her I thought she might be showing a guilty conscience. I could have probably been more diplomatic about that, but that's sort of beside the point. What was she actually thinking, knowing what she knew? Glad I wasn't getting closer to the other guy's outlook, or afraid I was acting on some old sibling rivalry now?

That's really what this all comes down to. How much of me is actually "me?" Or, how much of "me" do I still have, looking at it from I guess what his perspective might have been? And, uh. "Did I do all that fucked up stuff?" is sort of the question I can't dance around at that point. I mean, if I did, there's nothing I can do about it. I'll just have to live with it either way. But I'm still going to be busy thinking about it at least half the time, and then Maggie will have to hide my body under the floorboards.

OW! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the only one allowed to joke like that! Get back here you-

...​

Session four.

I was able to get through to Mr. Elric when he came back from the Kaiserreich. I haven't seen anyone in his family since Mom's funeral, so he probably suspected what this had to do with as soon as he saw a letter from me. I just said I needed to ask him about some esoteric alchemy that he was uniquely experienced with, and signed it "SB." Sent from the Amestropolis PO box I rented, of course. I got his letter back to our personal address this morning, telling us to expect him the day after tomorrow.

If nothing else, the Kaiserin apparently gave him a bottle of some golden brand Vodka that the Czar left her a cask of during his last visit, and he says he'll open it with us. I guess he didn't hear about the whole pregnancy thing. Or forgot. Still, nice of him to offer.

…​

Session five.

So. There wasn't just the other guy. There was also the other other guy. The Elric brothers are my uncles, but they're also sort of my…brothers?

I probably should have told him about that other dream. Then again, I'm not sure at this point if I actually ever had it, or am just inventing the memory of it now.

I really don't sound very sure of myself, do I? Maybe that's a good sign, since the part of that thing that I supposedly am was, heh, you know. Means I'm not too much like him after all.

After he left, I asked Maggie if she thought it would be safe to tell him about that old dream before he leaves town again. Maybe it would be best to wait a few years, when our kid is old enough not to need me anymore. Again, just in case. She told me that that has to be my decision. Can I hold it together that long without knowing more? Will I be able to be a good father, like that? If not, then it doesn't make much of a difference, probably. And she can't answer that. Only I can.

…​

Session eight.

That word doesn't just mean what I thought it meant. Xerxian had to be such a convoluted goddamned language. I…I need to learn more. I need more books. Going to take time off from work, we can afford it.

I don't have a Gate. But I don't know if he had one either, before he took all those others into…no, can't just veer off into speculation. Not even Elric knows enough to say how exactly that part worked, for him. It. Me.

…​

Session nine.

The books have pictures. I saw the ruins of the royal palace, and I knew what the rest of the building looked like before I turned the page and saw it.

I don't have a Gate. He...or, I. Still "I" at that point...kept that for himself, of course. I wouldn't be dangerous, even if I tried to be. That doesn't exactly sound like a compliment, but I know what Elric meant. But, still, I remember. I remember it.

Seeing his face again so much is probably making it come faster. In Xing, they say that you can't ever completely forget other people, their own souls and yours have connections that we can't even perceive. I can see him, when I look at Edward Elric. I remember. I remember.

…​

Session ten. Maggie will be just a month and a half, if she delivers on schedule. This is a terrible time to be putting her under this much stress. Seeing her reminds me that I have to get through this, and makes me sure that I can, but really, I'm going to have to be the one offering hundred thousand cen vodka, next time I meet Elric.

Pride. Ego.

There's a Drachman fairy tale I read in secondary school. It was about an alchemist who took out his soul and hid it inside a pin, and then hid that pin inside an egg, and the egg inside a duck, and the duck inside a rabbit, and then hid the rabbit inside a log on an island in a deep, cold lake hidden in the wilderness. He was invincible because of that, or thought he was. He rode through the woods on a seven-legged horse, raiding villages, murdering men, and kidnapping women. But, when he captured a knight's wife, the knight started hunting for his soul to slay him. The sorcerer could have stopped him, but his seven-legged horse kept telling him that there was no need to hurry, the knight was no threat to him, he could take his time. I guess the horse didn't like the sorcerer that much more than anyone else did.

That's not what Alphonse said I…or, the other guy…told him, when he wrote back from Xing. They apparently had a conversation inside the Broken Dome, before it got broken. I guess the Amestropolis tourism board can thank me for forcing Van Hohenheim to raise that thing, but if I'm getting credit for everything I did back then I'd have much bigger problems to deal with. I don't remember that part anyway, though I guess I might someday. What I was starting to say though…if we're using the fairy tale metaphor, I wasn't the entire horse at that point…actually, this is making me mix metaphors too much.

It means "hubris," but it also means something else, in Xerxian. I bet I thought I was being smart, making a double entendre? Or…well, maybe that's my old Prideful self coming out and saying that. From what Edward said, he…I…it…probably didn't even realize what it had done. Or maybe he just made sure to forget it after he did.

…​

Session fourteen. It's been a while, but I've been busy. Good thing I prepared all these notes this time. There's so much to talk to you about. We'll start with arrogance. That's only appropriate, right?

One thing this is all teaching me is that distance can really mess with a person. When you're reading a book or watching a picture show, the characters can seem so stupid. But, that's only because that distant perspective gives you a God's eye view. Hearing it all told back to me, in so many pieces from so many sourcesy…heh, well, I'm glad mom taught me how important it is to be able to laugh at yourself.

So, the other guy. The other other guy.

It's like a terrible dream, but also like a really dark comedy. What a clown he was, right? It would have actually worked as comedy, if those weren't real people he'd lived around. Not even his own horse liked him, that's for sure. Not even me, no matter what Alphonse says I told him in that dome. He…wasn't a guy you can bring yourself to like, especially after Lust and Greed. I made myself think it was the humans I resented, instead of him. I think we all did. Really, I think he might have been doing that himself all along.

I have to accept responsibility for the stupidest thing he did, though, as well as the second most monstrous thing, because he still was me at those points. How can you be that stupid while thinking you're that smart? Like an audience member laughing at a picture show character, when they wouldn't do any better in their place. Or, I guess like I'm doing to my younger self…him…right now.

They say that every child grows up to become a version of its parents. If my kid is going to grow up to be a version of me, then I need to make sure that they're exposed to the best me possible, right?

"Pride." Hubris. But also Ego. And that also means "self."

I guess he, or I, tipped my hand a little with the name I chose, when I hid myself. If I understand what Edward told me, and he understands what…his…father told him, about what they did to make me…I got my "I" from the blood. The thing that made me decide I didn't want to just break the glass and go back to the Akashic Record.

The problem with locking up your soul is that it's like sitting on a bank account full of money you can't spend. Once you have it walled off, I guess you kind of lose interest in everything you might have wanted it for in the first place. Apparently he still had doubts after that, because a couple centuries later Greed existed too.

He made us call him "Father." If that had still been me by then, I'd be wincing in embarrassment just thinking about it.

Did I even know that I was doing that, when I removed my…"real self?" Did he realize it afterward, when he was looking down at me in that stupid little kid body I made for myself when I was him? Did I know that I was closer to being the real me than he was, all those hundreds of years that I was hidden inside a philosopher's stone, inside an Akashic construct, inside a boy, inside a fortress, inside a transmutation array?

I'm not all of me, I don't think. The others all had a little, even if it wasn't enough to survive without philosopher's stones. He, what I used to call Father, had more than any of the later six. Maybe more than all six of them together. Maybe. He…well, also I, the first time…made sure he kept the Gate, at least. If you put those seven together, would you get more of me than I have left? Maybe, but I don't think so. Ego. Maybe I did know what I was doing, when I did it, after all. But all along, that human blood they took out of that boy's arm, the "I," that part I hid. In me.

So, that's the heavy shit out of the way for now. To lighten things up a little, and speaking of being my own person, well…It's a silly thing to be hung up on, I know, but…what IS the story behind the black hair? When the Elrics tried to resurrect their mother, they got the exact same shade. They dug up a few other case records from around the world since they started traveling, and…yeah, same shade each time. I'm starting to think that someone did something really weird to the Record a long time ago that's causing these genetics to keep manifesting. But hey. I think I look better with this hair color anyway.

I guess that's one of the things that's been keeping me calm. I look in the mirror, and I think "how would blond hair work for me," and it just looks so damned ridiculous in my mind's eye that I start laughing. That's a good sign, I think? I pretty much like what I'm looking at, and, well, if there's one lesson I do want my children to learn from me it's that, right?

That's just about everything I wrote down. This might be my last session for a long time. Maggie could start going into labor any day. It's going to take me a long time to really deal with everything. I really left myself a mess to clean up. It just…uh…that's not as important as being a father.