Author's note at the bottom to explain things a bit

Only Sometimes

Sometimes Ed can't believe Alphonse really came back. Sometimes he's in the middle of a task and it hits him, and there's a lump in his throat and panic in his chest so sharp he feels like he can't breathe. He has to sit down, fear making him dizzy. He knows, in his heart and in his head that he accomplished the undertaking of beating Truth's riddle. That Alphonse stepped through the door and fell to his knees and scraped his flesh on the ground so hard that he bled for the first time in nearly six years. Ed touched that blood, held Al's frighteningly thin body in his arms and hefted the weight of his bones since there wasn't much left of the boy. He sobbed in Al's lank golden hair, long from years of unhindered growth and thin from malnutrition.

So, Edward sits and forces deep breaths past the squeezing pain in his throat, until his heart rate returns to normal and the world stops spinning. He tightens his hands into fists, and then shakes them out to stop their trembling.

Roy told him once that he must be having panic attacks. The man found him sitting on the kitchen floor a week after both Elrics moved into his home, a pot of water boiling down to nothing on the stove while Ed gasped for air and stared at nothing. Roy had moved the pot off the heat and sat down beside the smaller man, attempting to get his attention without having to touch or crowd him. He'd seen many soldiers' break downs after the Ishvalan War, and this wasn't a new situation for him.

Finally, when Ed seemed to come back to himself a little, Roy placed a hand on his knee and called his name. They had a somewhat stilted, awkward talk afterwards, when Ed was coherent enough to listen and respond. Ed couldn't reveal the reason behind his fear, not because he didn't trust his ex-general, but because he didn't understand it himself all that much. It seemed to come out of nowhere, seizing him and rattling his thoughts around, twisting them until he couldn't remember what was real and what was invented in his terrified mind.

It wasn't until he'd experienced it several more times that he could put a finger on its root cause.

Al.

His brother was still so fragile, so ill and small, and he slept so much that Ed had to sneak into his room sometimes just to watch him draw breath so he could convince himself that they made it. That Al made it.

Ed had five years as the Fullmetal Alchemist and six years with his brother's soul trapped inside a suit of armor. One year divorced from their past life and just the idea of normalcy still seemed odd. Even though Ed got his arm back and Al was snugly contained within his flesh body and they were both working towards healing. Even though they had a place to call home, temporary as it may be, and all the time in the world to consider their future.

No more military. No more wild goose chases across half the world to find a stone that might as well be a myth. No more sleepless nights of 'Will we make it? Will I die before we accomplish what we set out for? Will Al ever get his body back?'

They made it after all, but something in Ed's mind yanked him back sometimes. Pulled him back so hard and slapped him in the face and demanded to know just what the fuck he thought he was doing, living a normal life when the task wasn't complete. Why did he get to move on with his life when Al couldn't?

And Ed shook, and grew light headed. And his knees threatened to give out if he didn't sit his ass down right now. Shame and fear choked him, stinging his eyes with the threat of tears. He needed just a minute or two to reorient himself, that's all. The fugue would lift and he'd be right where he was the moment before he shut down. It was disorienting and inconvenient, but he couldn't work out how to stop it from sneaking up on him.

But he had ways of making it better.

When it's feasible, after he's steady enough to pretend it didn't happen, he seeks out his brother. If Al's working on something, like cooking or cleaning, Ed will pick up the chore and help. He'll strike up inane conversation to hide the lingering effects of the attack and distract Al from discovering them and being concerned.

If he's sitting on the couch reading, Ed will insinuate himself into his space and lean against him, or lay his head in his lap and pretend to be napping. Al doesn't seem to mind. He smiles at his older brother and allows him this, knowing too much about the things Ed sometimes imagines when he's alone. They were both haunted by their memories, but now they had a life to look forward to.

Sometimes the panic overwhelms Ed.

But only sometimes.

Author's note: Sorry if this is a little rambling and confusing. I started writing it while I was trying to get over writer's block for something else, conveniently, written in the same 'verse as this one. It's not beta'd, and I'm sure the tense wavers in and out between sentences.

I had a bigger fic planned, post Truth. If this helps to explain things a little… It was a mostly an Al recovery fic, which explored his and Ed's relationship after Ed regained his arm and Al his body. No one lost their memories and Ed remained in the same world. Roy, feeling a sense of responsibility, offers the brothers a place to stay immediately after, so they have somewhere to recover and readjust to life. By this time, Ed is 18 and Al is 17, and they've been back to "normal" for approximately one year. Anyway, I couldn't hack it, so this spawned from my frustration. Please enjoy it for what it is, and have a great day!