A random one-shot based on this writing prompt: You open the fridge to find a head.

Hehehe, this is gonna be fun!

Edward Elric sat up, gasping for breath. His eyes stung from sweat dripping into them from his forehead, and his cheeks were damp with tears. His hair was slightly tangled, long strands falling in his face. The room was at a comfortable temperature, but that didn't stop Ed from shaking.

He sat there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. Trying to believe that it had all been a dream.

But it had been so real.

Once he'd calmed down some, Edward laid back, pulling the blankets around himself tightly. But as soon as he closed his eyes, the nightmare came back to him. He bolted up again.

There would be no sleep for the Fullmetal Alchemist tonight.

Edward stood up and, after a minute of fumbling, grabbed a shirt and tugged it on. He winced as he did so, his right arm still not fully used to the movement. He couldn't believe it had been nearly a year since he got it back.

Opening his door as softly as he could, Edward stepped into the hall and made his way to the staircase, careful not to wake anyone. As he passed Al's room, he saw the door was open, and the room empty.

So, I'm not the only one who can't sleep.

Down the staircase Ed went, skipping a step here and there to stay quiet. The first place he headed was the kitchen. He was starving.

He went straight for the fridge, praying that there'd be something other than milk in there. His fingers closed around the handle, and he pulled open the door.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH! ALPHONSE!"

Edward couldn't help but scream as he beheld the sight. Al's head was in the fridge.

AL'S HEAD WAS IN THE FRIDGE.

SOMEONE MUST HAVE KILLED HIM.

WHAT WAS ED GOING TO DO?

"What's the matter, Brother?" A tired voice said behind him… Alphonse's voice. Edward shrieked again and spun around, to see his little brother standing there, rubbing his eyes, a perplexed look on his face. Wait a second.

Al's face.

He still had a face.

THIS WASN'T NORMAL.

(But then again, normal was a word that had left Ed's vocabulary a long time ago. BUT STILL. This was beyond not normal.)

Edward was on the verge of hyperventilating now as he spoke, becoming more and more flustered as he tried to make his rather foggy brain work and explain this phenomenon (or rather, nightmare in the making).

"Y-your head."

"What?!"

"Why do you still have your head, Al?!"

"What do you mean, Brother? If I didn't have my head still, I'd be dead. In fact, most people retain their heads throughout their lifetime."

Ed stared at Alphonse, dumbstruck. He didn't only have his head; he was TALKING. This was bad. Bad. Bad. BAD. BAD.

Either Edward was having an over-the-top strange dream, or he was hallucinating.

At this point, Ed didn't really care. He wanted this resolved. NOW.

"B-but… but why is your head there," Ed pointed a shaking finger to Al's head, "and there?" He pointed to the head in the fridge. "IT CAN'T BE TWO PLACES AT ONCE, IDIOT!"

Suddenly a look of comprehension dawned on Alphonse's face, and he chuckled as he stepped past Edward, reached into the fridge, and picked the other head up, looking at it fondly.

"Don't lose your head, Brother. I thought you'd gotten used to me having my body back already. And why is my old helmet in the fridge?"

And then Ed realized.

Alphonse hadn't lost his head.

Edward had nearly lost his head, likely due to sleep deprivation.

The head in the fridge was Al's old armor helmet. Alphonse had his body back. He was still alive.

Ed breathed a sigh of relief. All was w-

CLANG!

"WILL YOU IDIOTS LET ME SLEEP?!"

"WILL YOU QUIT WITH THE WRENCH, WINRY?!"

"She's got a point, Ed."

"Shut up."