If he would admit it, could admit it, he's a little envious.
Of an Edward that never lost his mother, with the fresh memory of his father leaving ( the catalyst for it all, in his eyes, ) of him never wrapping his brother up in his mistake enough that cost him his entire body. Not him too, he thought, never him.
Although he's different, he seems to be a visceral reminder of everything that went wrong in his life. Every detail he learns something he doesn't necessarily want to understand, but does nonetheless. This bubbles a kind of anger that he feels in his gut, in his chest, in every inch of his fingers. Tracking him down in his fury wasn't as easy as he'd love to crack it up to be, although being able to use his alchemy had its advantages. Blocking off paths behind him may inconvenience other people, he figures, but he'll go back ( just as he always does, ) undo the damage that he's caused ( just as he always does. )
His double reacts in a way he anticipated, running away from him the moment their eyes met — but Edward won't let him go, clapping his hands together and a wave of blue flash, the ground shifts beneath the other's feet and wrap around him; he can't go if he can't move, is his reasoning, and he smirks as he puts his weight on his prosthetic leg walking forward. Feeling the weight of it is enough to stew his anger a little bit, something physical to allow him to part with it properly.
"Make this easy for both of us." He knows he's not without reason, but there's a childlike wonder in the other's eyes that makes him click his tongue before grinding his teeth, clenching both fists before he raises them as if to yell, as if to punch the cement that encases him. "It's alchemy, if you're wondering."
Of course he'd know his own thought process.
'Alchemy... the alchemy I know isn't like this.'
Which really just begs the question of what his is like, but he doesn't have time to ask questions. No, not that, it's more like he doesn't want to ask them. Not out of fear, either, more like the feeling the more he learns about this other Edward's world, just how much anger he can hold without snapping completely at him.
'It's not like this... it's not like this...' His voice is strained, and recalling that his double is on a time limit doesn't make it any easier to deal with him. From what he understands of it, prolonged exposure to the virus will end in a way that will end him as well, and he's not exactly ready to die just yet. Not before he's fulfilled what he set out to do so long ago.
It's then that he does punch the cement, leaning forward, and his voice shakes, "I guess I'll have to force you to quiet down, so this will only hurt a, well, I'm not gonna lie to you, it's gonna hurt a lot." He can only imagine the kind of expression he's wearing, although with his face down it'd be difficult to tell with the shadow that covers it. Saying he doesn't want to hurt this apparition of him would be an outright lie, as it were, because every muscle in his body screams about how wrong it feels to look himself in the eye — a him that never felt his loss. He doesn't feel sorry for him.
'No, I'll listen. You're me... obviously.' Maybe he's not as far gone as he'd thought. 'I won't run so, can you let me out of this?'
"Wish I could say I believed that. Sorry, it stays." He starts off, leans his back to the wall that's a mere few feet away. "You can get on with your merry little life, you know, if you let me do this. I doubt that will be painful."
'Hah... you know, I'm a little afraid.' Well, who wouldn't be? 'Are you — wait, are you a homunculus? I've only ever read about them.'
"I can't be sure of that, but I'm pretty sure it won't. Wouldn't make sense to me, really."
'Right... wait, before you do, can you do something, I'd say it's for me but it's just about as much for you, I guess.'
'Can you find Al? I lost him awhile ago, I don't... know... if there's another Alphonse you know, but I love him. I don't want him to die.'
"Yeah, yeah, got it. I'll find him."
He runs his thumb along the screen of his phone, before he taps lightly on what he was instructed in a message before to use, eyes cast downward so he doesn't see how it works exactly, just that when he looks back up moments later, he's gone. Pressing his hands together once again, he returns the ground to it's state prior. He rolls his left shoulder, stretching the muscle as he walks off. It's one thing to find himself, using something that has his location, but it's another altogether finding a copy of someone when he hasn't even seen his brother. His own lost brother, but of course he believes in him. Believes in his capabilities ( in a way, better than his own. ) That's enough for now, at least.
Regardless, he stands still for a few more borrowed seconds before he rubs the back of his neck, sighing, and glances back upwards. He'd just have to put him in the right mindset, which is easy enough, figuring a way Alphonse grew in a kind of world where they never lost what they lost, where they never experienced the kind of wretched pain they felt with that; and he begins his search once again.
