The dark red stains on the bathroom door refused to come off, as I quickly learned. Winry came over early in the morning with cleansing supplies and a bucket, but even with the two of us and a heavy-duty sponge each, the reminders of what had happened two days earlier refused to leave my house. So, after spending nearly six hours alone with the man who had tried to murder her on her wedding day, she retreated back to the country, where I knew she belonged. I had been half-tempted to ask her to stay the night, just so I wouldn't have to be alone, but as she walked out the door I realized I couldn't bring myself to hurt her again. As soon as the door closed, I turned off the lights and laid down on my back on the floor of the front room, staring at the steadily darkening ceiling. I didn't mind sleeping on the wood panels; ever since the assisted suicide I had tried to perform days before backfired, I couldn't even look down the hallway to the bedroom. It seemed too saddening, even for me, to realize what would have happened if Al hadn't walked in the room at the last second. To think that I had come so close to killing the girl who had taken care of me when I needed her was too much to bear, so I had swept the house clean of all traces of her with the help of Winry, and I stayed in the front of the house. Granted, the blood on the bathroom door still remained, but that had been Kio's bathroom, so I never had any reason to go in there anyway.
I ran one hand along the standing lamp, my fingers tracing the engraved patterns in the metal. Just three days ago, Kio and I had been sitting in this room, talking and laughing together like we always had. Now I lay on the floor watching the shadows on the walls while she underwent surgery to repair the bullet hole in her head. I couldn't bring myself to visit her in the hospital; instead, it was my brother who stayed with her and held her hand while she wished she was dead.
Why did I agree to do that? I heard the words resound again in my head and I closed my eyes in an attempt to block it out. I never should have said yes. I never should have been here that day. The sun dipped down below the bottom of the windowsill and I opened my eyes again. Now the ceiling was lit with speckled light filtering in from the willow tree outside the window. The shadows danced, reminding me of the midnight walks through the park that Kio and I used to take, of the summer nights spent sleeping on the roof by her side, and worst of all, the vicious and unforgiving memory of why I had chosen to live here in the first place.
Sighing, I flipped onto my stomach and curled into a ball, tucking my knees up against my chest to fight away the sudden sickening feeling I was getting in the pit of my stomach. Mustang will be here soon, finally. I wonder, what will I tell him when he gets here? I pictured his near-emotionless black eyes fixing me with a hard stare, and his deep voice resounding in an angry, quiet whisper: What the hell made you think it was okay to do this?
That was when the doorbell rang. I felt myself flinch and didn't even bother to get up. "Come in, it's unlocked."
Apparently that didn't matter, because the moment the words left my mouth I heard the door crack, fly from its hinges and smack against the hall wall. Suddenly wary that it was not Mustang who was now inside my house, I shot up and whirled myself around on all fours, too tired to stand fully up but not wanting to keep my back to the hallway. Light from the setting sun came into the darkening room and lit the hall. A shadow moved slowly across my line of vision, the pounding of heavy boots on the wood paneled floor. I could feel my heart rate speed up until I couldn't even feel it anymore.
The barrel of a rifle poked out from the empty doorway and pointed straight at me. The footsteps ceased, and a man's head peered around the corner. I could only see his face, but I had no trouble recognizing him, even though the light behind him made him shrouded in shadow.
"Alphonse?" My heart rate dropped a bit and I stood up, brushing dust from the floor off of my shirt and pants. I didn't take my eyes off of him, though; after what had happened recently, he would have a very good excuse to want to kill me. But I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "I, uh…I thought you were at the hospital?"
Al stepped into the room from the hallway, the rifle still pointed straight at my chest. "I was." He leaned against the doorframe and turned his head to one side. "Didn't expect to see me?"
I glanced down at the leather couch and back up at my younger brother, forcing a smile on my face. "Not…so soon."
"Why are you speaking so…carefully, Brother?" Al shifted so that the gun was pointing lower to the floor. I felt my body relax, only to tense up again when he fixed a cold stare at me.
I swallowed. "Is that…Kio's gun?"
Al nodded and stroked the barrel. "She told me I could have it. She said it's good for self-defense, y'know? When you run out of ammo, just beat someone with it."
"Sounds, um, classy. How is she?" I could feel myself slowly backing up, away from him. I didn't like the look in his eyes. It reminded me of myself. And I didn't like that.
"Stable condition. She might lose all mobility in her lower body, but that's okay, right? A one-up for you."
I flinched. "Al…there's something I have to tell you…"
"Kio's pissed, Brother. She's not very happy with the state you left her in." He began to make his way toward me, both hands holding the gun level with my head. "She blames you for it. And do you know why?"
The cold look of hatred didn't leave his eyes. "Because…I tried to kill her?" I couldn't believe I had actually just said that. Admitting that meant that I was facing what I had become, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for that.
To my surprise, Al shook his head. "After she woke up, she told me everything. And I don't blame you for wanting to help her. But you shouldn't have done it."
I felt the windowsill press against my back and I realized that if Al pulled the trigger now, I'd be dead. "Wait, what?"
"She's pissed because you didn't finish the job. She said that if she had known you would have chickened out, she wouldn't have asked you in the first place."
My mind was spinning with what Al was saying, but I still didn't see why he was here. Or why he had broken my door. Feeling sassy, I felt myself smirk. "So what, are you here to avenge her disability and kill me for injuring her?"
There was no hesitation when Al raised the rifle to his viewpoint and rested his index finger against the trigger. "Exactly."
