Equivalent Exchange

Disclaimer: Not mine. *sigh*

A/N: You all might disagree with me, but I think it's pretty clear in the original anime that Ed never intended to regain his limbs; instead, his only focus was to restore Al. So there are some references to that in this fic.

This fic is partly inspired by a few lines in Griselda Bank's lovely story "Sweet Tyranny," in which Al says, "Equivalent Exchange has nothing to do with love. I don't deserve my brother's affection. But isn't that the beauty of love?" That, along with Al's past-tense explanation of the brothers' belief in Equivalent Exchange at the opening credits of each episode, got me thinking about Al and Ed's differing interpretations of Equivalent Exchange, which led me to…this.

Hope you enjoy!

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Alphonse Elric does not believe in the overarching principle of Equivalent Exchange.

Not deeply. Not religiously. Not down to the very last fiber of his being, like his brother does. He cannot.

Once, Edward Elric did not believe in Equivalent Exchange. Intellectually, he did. But when it counted? When his actions changed the lives of himself and his brother—his trusting, pure little brother—he proved that he did not. He offered two drops of blood for the soul of his mother. Foolish. Selfish. Arrogant. Brat. Sinner. Betrayer. Fiend. Unworthy of the honorific of "older brother" that Alphonse grants him with every call.

Since he did not offer to pay, the Truth took the toll from him. Every day, he wonders why It took Al's body and not his own. Was he too stained already? Did It demand an innocent sacrifice? Or did It know that without his brother, Edward Elric was worse than gone, worse than dead?

Death is not enough for those who meddle with the forces of a god. There is a price, and it must be paid. Equivalent Exchange.

A genius, they call him. A prodigy. But he knows he isn't. If they only knew how foolish he really was, how damning his mistakes, they wouldn't say such things. But Edward is not one to make the same mistake twice; he is smart enough for that. Now, Equivalent Exchange is the foundation of his life, the entire basis of his moral code.

Once, Alphonse Elric believed in Equivalent Exchange. Instinctively, he balked at the thought of human transmutation, fearing the taboo and the consequences. That fateful night, he was the one who asked what they could offer in payment for their mother's soul, knowing that simply the ingredients of the body were not equal to their mother's life. And all the while, he yearned to stop his brother, to hold him, to say, it's okay to cry, brother, I miss her too, but I'm here, you're here, we're safe. Isn't that enough? But it wasn't, and he knew it, and he saw the hole in his brother's heart that would only be satisfied with the return of their mother. Equivalent Exchange.

It was what happened after that made Al doubt.

Edward gave up his arm for his brother.

It's enough, Ed thinks, as he watches his brother clunk about the house in his noisy, awkward armor body. Enough of a price for this half-life that he gave—cursed—his brother. Thanks to his weakness, his arrogance, his stupidity, his lack of respect for the rule of Equivalent Exchange, his brother cannot touch, eat, sleep, dream, smile, laugh, cry…and so he is glad as the pain numbs his mind and tightens his body. It's enough. If Al cannot feel, at least I am not comfortable. At least I can suffer for my some of my sins alone.

It's too much, Al thinks, watching his brother writhe on the table under the Rockbell's knives and wires and bolts. It's too much, he cries tearlessly, as he watches his brother shaking and weak with pain and fever after the auto-mail is reattached. It's too much, he worries, as he watches his brother struggle through each day not only as not a cripple, but as a superhero. It's too much. My existence shouldn't be worth this. Not to anyone.

Edward gave up his childhood for his brother.

It's enough, Ed thinks, as he slips the shiny military-issue watch back into his pocket, pleased with its enhancement of his transmutations. It's enough, he thinks, as he screams back at that arrogant-son-of-a-bitch-bastard colonel, who is annoying as hell but will someday help them reach their goal. No one treats Al like a little boy anymore. Why shouldn't I be an adult too? And, this way, if there's a war, only I will be called. I will suffer, and Al will be safe. Just like it should be. I can pay for my mistakes.

It's too much, Al thinks, as he eyes the chain of the pocket watch hanging at his brother's (fragile, small, childlike) waist. It's too much, he sighs, as he watches his brother's golden eyes darken with too-old cynicism and vibrant hair stain with blood. It's too much, he wails, as he presses his brother's coat to Ed's body to stop the bleeding after a dangerous mission. My brother doesn't need to do this for me. He doesn't owe me anything. It was my fault too! Why can he never let me help him shoulder the blame?

Edward searches for the Philosopher's Stone for his brother.

It's enough, Ed thinks, as he buries himself in books at the military libraries and runs to catch so many trains that he can't remember their destinations, only that they lead him farther away from home. It's enough, he thinks, as he plans the restoration of his brother's body, but never, never his own limbs. For if they were both healed, what would become of Equivalent Exchange? If I work hard enough, if I sacrifice enough of myself, it will fix Al. It's enough. It has to be.

It's too much, Al thinks, as he watches his red-eyed brother stare stubbornly at the alchemy text despite the late hour, his shoulders slumped with weariness. It's too much, he moans, as he watches his brother's hopes crushed in an instant of understanding, a cruel insight into this too-grown up world. It's too much, he panics, as he sees his brother drawn into this dangerous game of cat and mouse with an inhuman enemy. Everything my brother gives me is too much. But if it helps us both become whole, everything will be okay, right? Right, brother?

Edward Elric believes in the principle of Equivalent Exchange because when he looks at his brother—his conscience, his companion, his whipping-boy, his cost of failure—he must.

Alphonse Elric does not believe in Equivalent Exchange because when he looks at his brother—his hero, his protector, his someday savior, his friend—he can't.