He had been 11, Alphonse 10. Seven years later, the wounds were still fresh, just as fresh as the blood that coursed through his veins, the blood that blades drew from his flesh. The blood that they had sacrificed, those two drops, the blood that had destroyed them.
How can I repay you
Brother of mine?
How can I expect you
To forgive?
Clinging to the past
I shed our blood
And shattered your chance
To live…
They had researched for so long, to find the answer, the key to reviving their lives, their mother's life. The two boys' existence seemed intertwined with hers, and when her hand slacked in theirs and her spirit was snatched away by the hands of fate, it felt like their own souls had joined hers in Heaven. Not that Edward believed in Heaven or Hell. There was no time in their lives to ponder about God, why they were there and how. All that mattered was them being there, and Edward and Alphonse Elric had never known just how much it mattered until even that luxury, the luxury of life, was almost taken from them.
Though I knew the Laws
I paid no heed
How can I return your
Wasted breath?
What I did not know
Has cost you dear
For there is no cure
For Death…
The memories were just as fresh, just as raw, as the pain that had been inflicted upon them that night in that lonely, blood-stained house on a borderline clichéd stormy night. That night where Edward learned that their may truly have been a Heaven and Hell; the young boys had seen Hell and come back, never to be the same, and Heaven had been the time with their beloved mother. Their mother, that beautiful woman who's pallid skin always looked so delicate, her entire being seeming so fragile, her chestnut hair spilling over her shoulder and soft lips always pulled into a reassuring smile. But her eyes, shining like bright teal gems, always gave away the true sorrow she felt at the loss of her husband. Was he dead or alive? Where was he? Was he happy? Hurt? Those questions seemed to always echo in those eyes, and Edward seemed to be the only one to catch those glimpses of pain, and if Alphonse saw them, he was awfully quiet about the ordeal, never even telling his elder brother. That bastard of a father…Hohenheim. Even his name made Edward want to snarl. Those memories were just as fresh, no matter how old they were. That silhouette closing the door on his mother, on his sons, on his home. Where HAD he gone? One of the many questions in the Elrics' lives, but that was one that Edward didn't want an answer to. The longer he was gone, the better. But…Sometimes at night, when Trisha didn't think anyone was around, sometimes Edward would sneak out of bed to go to her bedroom, and outside the doorway, he could hear his mother quietly sobbing, whispering that cursed name. Hohenheim…Hohenheim…Sometimes she said it like a prayer, other times she spat it like a hex. And when his mother's dying wish was a wreath of flowers, 'like your father, he used to always make them for me', Ed had been filled with mixed emotions of anger and sorrow, trying to put up a reassuring face for her that only looked desperate, the face of a young child losing his only life support. And from then on, it was just him and Alphonse, and that was where everything had gone downhill.
Beautiful mother
Soft and sweet
Once you were gone
We were not complete
Back through the years
We reached for you
Alas, 'twas not meant to be
And how can I make amends
For all that I took from you?
I led you with hopeless dreams
My Brother, I was a fool…
But no matter what his elder brother said or did, no matter what the golden-eyed boy thought, Alphonse cast no blame to his brother. They had both done it; both of them had tried and longed for it. Both of them had wanted their mother back more than anything in the world, even if it meant their lives. Sure, he had tried to protest against it, but even his attempts were feeble with desire and in the end, he pursued their ambition. No matter what Edward said or did, no matter what his brother thought, Alphonse would never abandon him; they were all they had left now. And seven years later, he still believed that to be true, though they were literally worlds apart.
Don't cry for the past now
Brother of mine
Neither you nor I
Are free from blame
Nothing can erase
The things we did
For the path we took
Was the same…
He still remembered his mother fondly, as though she were still alive. Once in a while, he even had to use her to dissuade his rash elder brother from doing something they both knew he would regret later. 'Mother wouldn't have wanted to see you like this! She wouldn't want to see you hurt someone else!' And Edward always snarled bitterly, 'It doesn't matter anymore, Al, what she would have thought, because she's not here! She's GONE!', but he always set aside the sinful deed and kept going, though he would be quiet for a long time, and Al knew he was deeply wondering what their mother would have thought, remembering her and their old life that they could never return to. All the sins, all the hard work and perseverance that had led them to a dead end road, everything they had worked to get to for a year had all gone to waste on that storm-ridden night, and their lives had been changed forever.
Beautiful mother
Soft and sweet
Once you were gone
We were not complete
Back through the years
We reached for you
Alas, 'twas not meant to be…
While he and Edward had taken turns reciting the ingredients-he felt horrible calling them that now, knowing that that could have been their mother if it had worked-for their transmutation. Alphonse's heart had pounded hard in his chest, but he didn't voice his fears. And when his brother turned to him and asked, "You ready, Al?" he had looked hesitant, but nodded. "Don't be scared, Al." Why, Brother? He had wanted to ask. Why shouldn't I be scared? We're risking our lives for something that may not even work! But when that circle's glow had taken up, that beautiful yellow sheen, he had felt those worries lift away, and all he could think of was his mother; her voice, her hair, her eyes, the soft touch of her skin, gentle and warm with love. That flash of purple light had destroyed it all in an instant…
My dreams made me
Blind and mute
I long to return to that time
I followed without
A word.
My Brother, the fault
Is mine…
Seven years later, the two had finally found each other, and there were no words to describe their relief, their brotherly love for each other. As they embraced, thankful that the other was alive, their heartbeats had synchronized, and they were truly brothers again.
So where do we go
From here?
And how to
Forget and
forgive?
What's gone is
Forever lost
Now all we can do
Is live…