Irony - 3 . Oct . 11

AN: In remembrance of 3rd October. (: I know it is past October in the manga, but I like toying with situations.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Edward Elric didn't consider himself to be a sentimental person.

In fact, he thought he was unnaturally logical and rational. He was, after all, an alchemist before everything else. He saw the world through critical and questioning eyes. He didn't have time or energy to waste on nonsensical things like remembering special dates.

Yet, why had he carved the date of their promise in the inside lid of his state pocket watch, then?

He clenched his fingers around the cool metal, reveling in the sensory delights he'd never thought he'd get back. His first and foremost priority had always been Alphonse – once the automail had been installed, Edward would have been fine with keeping it throughout his life. And when he imagined their future, the day they would pass through the Gate and retrieve what was theirs, he never imagined his arm and leg returning to him. It was always Al.

His brother placed one hand on his shoulder as they both stared ahead at the scorched land in front of them. There, that had been where the tree with the tire swing used to be – that was the front door, and just in front of it, the porch, with its ever-familiar flight of steps…

Edward felt his eyes sting. It had taken a long time – much longer than either of them had expected. When Lieutenant Colonel Mustang first gave him the idea of joining the military, it had lit a flame inside his young body. Edward had regained his passion for life, and he had been convinced that they would find the answers soon. Every evening, he used to tell Alphonse – 'just a bit longer, Al, just a bit longer. We'll be there soon.'

Every day.

It was almost five years since the day they'd burned down their house. Perhaps it was time to rebuild on the land – because although it held sorrowful remembrances, it also held memories of a happier time.

"Brother?" Alphonse's voice was quiet and blissfully echo-free. "Brother, maybe we should go back."

Edward turned his head – he was almost level with his brother now – and smiled fondly into his open, familiar face. "You go on. I'll be there soon."

Alphonse looked unsure, but he lifted his hand from his brother's shoulder and nodded. "All right. Hurry, though, granny's making stew."

"When does she ever not make stew?" Edward laughed briefly and waved his brother off. "Go on, I know you're anxious to check on her. I'll be with you in a minute."

Alphonse nodded and began to make his way towards the yellow house.

"Tell Winry to keep resting," he called, and his brother raised one arm in reply. Edward bit back a chuckle – his brother really was just like him.

The blonde mechanic had contracted a mild flu the day before, and had been confined to bed for almost twenty-four hours. Pinako hadn't been unduly worried, and neither had Edward – he knew Winry would be good as new in a few days – but Alphonse seemed acutely aware of every fragility of the human body and usually hovered over their childhood friend. Edward's lips lifted as he recalled the days after Alphonse had been released from the hospital – he had constantly fallen over things and pricked himself with various objects, like he'd forgotten what it was like to feel pain.

Maybe he had. The thought sobered Edward.

Dusk was coming – he could tell. The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon. Edward kept his eyes fixed on the bare, scarred plot of land.

"Don't forget. Third October, year eleven," he whispered, closing his eyes and exhaling.

He should be heading back. Alphonse would be worrying.

Edward opened his eyes and turned, displaying his back to the first home he'd ever known, and setting his face towards the only family he had left.

His eyes widened in surprise as a figure made its way towards him, panting slightly. Edward scowled and darted forward, catching Winry gently before she collapsed.

"Idiot girl!" His voice was full of anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Winry looked defiant. "I'm fine. Just weak from not moving around enough. I snuck out," she confessed, grinning slightly. Edward's frown did not lessen, but he felt a smile tugging at his own lips.

"I guessed," he shot back wryly.

"I wanted to come," she added softly, pushing his arms away gently and turning to face the scorched earth. "I wanted to make sure I was with you guys… but then Al came back. I came, anyway."

Edward made sure that his face remained emotionless. "It's stupid. We shouldn't have come in the first place."

Winry smiled faintly and rested her head on his shoulder as he, too, turned to face the ghosts of his past. "No," she said thoughtfully, "I think it's important to remember all that's gone by. All you've given up. It makes you strong. That's why you wrote what you did inside the watch, isn't it?"

Edward shrugged, making sure not to dislodge her head from his shoulder.

Winry's arm grazed against his, and her fingertips lightly touched his knuckles. "After all… today is a sad day, because you turned your back on everything. But at the same time, it's the day you could turn right back again. The day when everything changed, and the day when everything returned to normal. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

Edward said nothing. He intertwined his fingers with hers and stood there with her, gazing at the land and the horizon beyond it, until Alphonse came running to fetch them home.

AN: I spontaneously imagined Ed and Al returning to their bodies on the third of October. Wouldn't that be ironic? It's not possible, but still.

You might notice that there is a part in the story, near the end only, where it seems it should have ended. I was originally going to end it there, but then I thought of adding a bit of Winry in, too – because she and Al are the only people who can drag Ed out of his remorseful and/or dark moods.

Well – I hope you enjoyed it!

931 words.