I'm sorry Al! I've portrayed you as some sadistic bastard that enjoys Ed's pain! But I've just always wondered what would happen if Al DID hate Ed...

Do You Hate Me?

"Al, there's been something I've been meaning to talk to you about...But I've been too afraid to bring it up."

"What is it, big brother?"

"...Do you blame me for what happened? Do you hate me?"

There was a pause, stretching on for far too long. Al broke the silence with a sudden burst of hollow laughter, representing something far from funny.

Ed waited patiently, but nothing could rid the room of the awkward air between them.

Al finally stopped, his red eyes-that-weren't-eyes brighter than usual in the dim light of the tiny corner in the library.

"Of course I do," he said simply. Ed looked up at him, his face unreadable. For some reason, this made Alphonse even angrier. He continued, letting out all his thoughts, everything he thought during the long, lonely nights, into a speech. "Who WOULDN'T hate you for doing this? You put me in this body. I have to stay awake all night. You don't even have the decency to stay up with me and keep me from these thoughts. You think you're so unfortunate? You lost just an arm and a leg- that's nothing. Nothing at all compared to what I lost. I'm the victim here. It's your fault. And you really think you can make it better by getting back my body? Please. The experiences I've had in this armor will be with me forever, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Al fell silent, his words still seeming to echo inside the lifeless body that was supposed to be him. Ed nodded, his face empty of expression.

"That's what I thought," he said quietly. "Thanks. For finally telling the truth."

Al glared at him. "How can you take it this LIGHTLY? You're my brother! You're supposed to protect me! And now you're acting like it's no big d-"

"Stop," Ed commanded. Al did, which surprised even himself. "I've just been fooling myself, haven't I? Telling myself that you won't hate me anymore if I make it better...But I needed to know." There was a long pause, filled with the deafening sound of silence. "Al...You hate me. You really and truly hate me. I have your blood on my hands, so would you like to switch the positions?"

"...You mean, you want me to...Kill you?"

Ed looked up, his eyes empty. He nodded.

If Al had a face, he'd be smiling ear to ear. "Don't mind if I do."

In a graveyard, late at night, a boy with a body as cold as the stone he was touching, the stone he couldn't feel, sat and stared.

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist

Age 15

A brother, friend and, overall, an amazing person to us all.

Rest in Peace

"Do you hate me, brother?" he asked.

He knew the answer was no.

No matter how much he wanted it to be yes, it was no.

For the first time in years, he wished he had been like Ed. To love someone so completely, even after they ended your life, was something that he would never, could never, be able to do.