Title: How We Live
Summary: Movie spoilers Ed has done all he wanted, all he tried to do. He is now trapped on the other side of the gate. Ed remembers, tried to forget, and regrets. Possible RoyEd, ambiguous as of now.
Pairings:RoyEd?
Rating: K, later chapters might be higher.
Disclaimer: Don't own, not mine.

Edward stared out the window of the train, watching where he had come from pull further and further away. By now, he was used to the sight of things left behind; his whole life was a series of goodbyes and waves at train stations. Sometime he was sure to go back, but even before he went back he would have to say bye to somewhere else. Moving forward, always moving forward.

Ed leaned his head against the window. The glass was cold and the rattle and clatter of the train made his teeth chatter. Ever since going through the Gate that final time, he had had thoughts of leaving. As a child he tried to forget regret and only try to solve what lay before him, but that was finally all done. His brother was back. His father was dead. The homunculi had been defeated. He had nothing to do, nothing to worry about. He could go about his life in this world; his new world. He must think of it like that. He must distance himself from Amestris. From alchemy. From-

As if the world would not even let him think the thought, the train shook and Ed's head smacked the glass. He sat back in his seat and glared at the window. Right above where his breath fogged it, there was an oval that was clear. He was sure he had a matching red mark on his forehead. His cosmic wake-up call took whatever thoughts were in his head. He turned his back to the window and looked about his compartment.

It seemed empty. It always seemed empty when Al was not with him. Now that Al could be with him it was no longer the gut-wrenching empty that it once was. There was just more space than he was used to.

Sometimes even with Alphonse it seemed a bit empty. Ed's mind sometimes forgot that he had his body back and that he did not share space with a giant pile of armor. Whenever he caught himself forgetting his heart hurt a bit, even while he smiled. It was comforting to see that it was actually real; that he had done it. It still hurt that he ever had to go through that, that having a flesh brother would be a surprise.

The guilt should have left him. It had been long enough; time was supposed to heal these things. All of that is over, he tried to convince himself. He tried to forget.

He could not. Every time he looked at his brother, it all came rushing back. He remembered everything. He went on trips so much just for that reason. He could not tell his brother. Al would then feel sad, hurt, something. Ed could not explain this. He loved him and wanted to be with him; it was just too much sometimes. Remembering what his brother once was; remembering how it had happened; and then, remembering Amestris.

Regretting things.

Ed was strong. How could he not be, after all that had happened to him? Strength made up his core, like the metal that was his arm. Normal things could not get to him; could not make him bend. But, this regret did. It ate at him, taking small pieces at a time. Sometimes he felt like his foundation was crumbling. Then he would leave his brother. He would go on a trip and rebuild what was cracking. When he saw Al again he would be able to smile and look him in the face. He would not remember again for a while, and it would be good.

But, on this train, the regret had him in its clammy hands. The ice outside, the bump or the wheels, the sway of the cart: it was all familiar. It was the same as so many times before. Edward closed his eyes, waiting for the morning. When the sun came out his mind would be cleared of these depressing images. He could go back to forgetting. He would stop himself from breaking. It had not happened yet: Edward would not let it happen.

The last thought he had before he finally fell asleep was of a time, in a place, with a person. Just one of those fleeting thoughts he never tried to remember. The dark eyes in his mind were sad. Those eyes showed him how far back he remembered.

Edward did not remember crying. No matter how many times he left him, no matter how many goodbyes, he had never cried. He never said he would miss him. The feeling that wrapped around his stomach before he drifted off? Regret.

The train went fast, the clicks and bumps weaving themselves into a pattern. It was otherwise silent in the woods it passed through, with only the shrill whistle to counter the falling snow.

I just had this image of Ed in my mind, and had to write it out. For some reason the style I used is totally different than normal. The repetition is intentional. I want to continue, perhaps with Roy's point of view. I might not, as I am a bit slow, and this was short. If people like it I may, though. Comments, criticism, all that good stuff appreciated. I live off reviews, just like most fanfic writers out there.

-Fish