The door slammed open, ricocheting against the wall before settling into the indent it had made there long ago. The sound was just as loud up in the boys' room, the vibrations carried easily through the small house to their bodies.

Ed and Al's golden eyes flashed quickly at each other, and they both snapped their books shut and dove into their beds, feigning sleep. Ed, even in the darkness that reigned after the candle's extinction, could see his brother quivering, fearful that their uncle would go after him again. The mottled bruising had yet to fully fade from around his eye, eyes that were timid and uneasy every night as the brothers waited for the door to open. Or to slam.

The older boy hated his uncle to hell and back after that. Hated himself too. He didn't act quick enough. He couldn't lock down his own fright fast enough to step in and prevent his uncle's fist from knocking his little brother onto the floor. He had to be better tonight.

Ed tensed against the mattress as heavy footsteps reached his ears. Please, just leave us alone, he begged in his mind, but nobody could hear his silent plea, and the footfalls made their way slowly up the stairs and stopped outside of the boys' room. Al's breath quickened as the younger boy also looked at the two slices of dark shadow against the light that crept through the door's crack. Ed, carefully sprawled to look as though he was sleeping in the bed across from his brother, met the other set of gold, and tried to comfort him with his locked gaze. But when the door squeaked open both boys' lids dropped shut, as if the millimeters of skin across their eyes protected them from harm.

"Good night boys," their uncle slurred, making both brothers go rigid as the voice dulled with alcohol wound into their brains. What did they do? Continue to pretend to sleep? Respond to him? Silence played through the house.

"Good night, boys," he said, louder now, and with the familiar hostile tone creeping in. Again, Ed and Al wondered what they were to do. The younger Elric made a decision.

"G-good night, Uncle," Alphonse stuttered, obviously terrified. Ed's eyes snapped open to watch his little brother, who had winched his own eyes shut, his bruised side dug into the pillow. His own sense of safety cast aside he openly watched his uncle, noticed his shadowy cheeks morphing to bear a smile.

"Afraid, Alphonse?" His words curled with just as much sick delight as his lips. His booted feet shuffled, taking a step towards the boy, his unbound blonde hair crusted in sick swinging forward. Al's eyes clenched even tighter shut, and he curled into a protective, shaking ball.

Ed leaped from bed, slamming his feet on the cool floor, acting on instinct. "Hey you stupid bastard!" he called, clenching his muscles against the fear that threatened to freeze them. "You ugly, smelly, son-of-a-bitch!"

"Ed!" Al yelped as the large man turned towards his brother, moving to jerk off his sheets and stand by Ed's side.

"No!" Ed hissed at him, watching his uncle like one might watch a snake that would strike quickly and at any moment. "Stay!" The darker blonde paused, unsure, but obeyed, sitting tensely.

Their uncle didn't seem to notice the older boy's orders, instead focusing his drugged mind on confirming that the little brat had really just said such obscenities to him. "Did you just speak ill of me, Edward?" The uncle asked, incredulous that the brat had dared to provoke him.

"Geez, not only are you stupid but you also can't hear! Well I guess that comes with being an ancient sack of bones, you slow asshole," Ed slapped a joyful smile on his face, vowing to not let up the act until he had lured the drunken man away from his brother. He a was bit pleased with being able to express himself to the bastard, but that was hidden beneath many layers of sick anticipation for the beating he knew this would earn him.

The man nodded once, a serene bob that a drunk should not be capable of. Then he charged Ed, blowing back his dirty hair and billowy clothes. The boy dodged, and zipped down the stairs and into the living room. He couldn't evade the man too long, that would just intensify the strength of the thrashing he would have to take. But he also couldn't be caught up there. He didn't trust his uncle to not throw him down the stairs.

Ed's pursuit came slowly, picking his way carefully down the stairs, knowing that his slow body wouldn't be able to take the decline at anything more then a steady pace. Edward used this time to take a stance away from the table and wall corners, as when his uncle caught him he didn't want to have to endure any more damage brought by being bashed against the harsh edges. The line of deep purple bruising on his temple was a testament to the intelligence of this strategy.

As the blonde man swung around the corner into Ed's view, the boy heard lighter footsteps skittering down the stairs.

"Al!" He shouted, thickening his voice with desperate rage to still his brother. "Stay away!" But the devious uncle had already heard Alphonse, and whirled to face the boy hurrying downstairs.

Ed didn't waste a moment, roaring and launching himself onto his uncle's broad back, tangling his fingers in the long blonde strands and yanking the man about like a horse. Al shrieked, letting out his terror of almost being caught and channeling his brother's equal fear brought by the sure consequences of his foolish move.

In one instant Ed locked stares with Al, golden eyes wide and sending a forceful message of stay to the younger boy. The next he released his grip, timing it so his uncle's bucking would send him away from the living room's little table and chairs and to a safer, more open spot.

The rickety house shook when Edward collided with the wall, and the boy let out a whoof of air, his lungs grasping for oxygen and his head swimming. But he had to get up. He was too vulnerable. So Ed struggled to his feet, pushing his unsteady self away from the potential danger of the wall.

His uncle was upon him instantly, taking his favorite grip on Ed's golden braid, which the boy kept for this purpose. It was better to have his scalp yanked on then his appendages. The drunk whirled the boy by his hair, and Ed let a little howl slip through his lips before being launched back into the wall. It took longer those time, but the battered youth forced himself to his feet again, only to have a destructive fist drive itself into his cheek. Through his haze of pain Ed could hear his younger brother scream, but he didn't get a chance to gather his scattered thoughts and again pass the command to stay out of it to Al, as he was punched again, this time buckling his strength and making him collapse back down to the floor. The uncle's large, dirty shoes walked a blurred, tilting path to the forefront of Edward's vision, and the boy curled up, his back cracking as it reset into something like its former alignment.

"Good night, Edward."

He didn't respond. The drunkard aimed a kick at his nephew, his booted foot crashing into the boy's arms that were guarding over his skull. The uncle uttered a little tipsy burp, and walked away, his destructive urge satisfied. He opened the door to his bedroom and closed it quietly, off to sleep away this night's alcohol binge.

It was quiet then, silence that was strange to the house that held so much of it just a moment ago. Eventually, the sounds of two boys' breathing was the loudest thing to disturb the air. Both breathed in ragged gasps, formed from fear, and pain.

Alphonse quickly adjusted his awareness past himself and focused on his older brother, a small form pressed protectively against the wall. He darted over to Ed, pattering lightly on the floor with his feet as he went to his brother's side.

"Brother!" He whispered urgently, twining his fierce concern into his voice. A golden slit flashed, meeting the other set of Elric eyes. Al could see the pain, but also a vast amount of relief over the younger boy kneeling unharmed over him. But Al couldn't set his mind at ease yet. Not until he was sure that his brother had again survived their uncle without serious injury.

"Is it bad, brother?" The boy asked, running his hands over Ed's body, searching for injury. The older boy ignored the question, instead pushing himself up from the floor, eyes squinched tight as his head spun and his bones creaked. Al reached a supporting arm around his brother, not missing his glance at the door to their uncle's room. The two made their way as stealthily as possible to their room, both of them whipping their heads about every time the floor creaked or Ed groaned.

The older boy slipped from Al's grasp as they began their ascent upstairs, making the darker haired Elric whisper worried questions to Ed, who couldn't hear them past the pounding in his head. But he could sense his brother's panic, and so forced himself off his knees and up onto the next step.

Alphonse quietly clicked the door to their room shut as Ed laid his battered body on his bed. Now safe in the sanctuary of their bedroom, Al kicked into caretaker mode, fussing over his beaten brother.

Every word Al said set off an explosion of ringing noise in Edward's head, and he flinched away from his brother with every sentence. Al soon realized this, and once he concluded that Ed was not going deaf but was in fact, just suffering the type of severe headache that came from being slammed into a wall several times, he sat himself next to the older boy, running his hands soothingly over the bruised ribs and spine. Soon, Ed's breathing eased, his stillness letting the aches of his self soften into ebbs and waves.

"You need to stop doing this," Al said suddenly into the silence that had replaced the pounding in Ed's skull.

"Doing what?" the younger boy jerked in surprise when his brother answered. He hadn't thought that he could hear him yet. He moved his massage from Ed's back to his head, teasing the golden hair out from it's ruined, sore braid.

"You know the answer. You need to stop provoking him. If you hadn't jumped in I could have gotten out of it with just a cuff or so," Alphonse referred to the start of this night's incident, where his fear had pulled their uncle's violence from it's easily broken cage. "If you continue you're going to get hurt brother, hurt bad."

"You don't get it Al," Ed batted away sleep that stalked him through his brother's relaxing touch. "He can't hurt me." The hand withdrew, and Ed imagined Al's bewildered face from behind his closed lids. A face that wondered what his intelligent brother meant from such a stupid statement.

"But he does brother! He leaves bruises and cuts all over you! Don't try to lie and act like some sort of superhero who doesn't feel pain-"

"He can't hurt me Al," The older boy cut off the younger. "Not really. The only way he could hurt me is by hurting you." He could feel Al's hand quivering against his skull, almost touching but not.

"These bruises don't hurt me, they just hurt my body. That's fine. That's okay, as long as he doesn't hurt my heart. And he won't. Because I'll protect you." Al's palm rested on his golden hair for a moment, then he slipped quickly off the bed and into his own. Edward wasn't concerned. Even without meeting his brother's golden eyes he knew the other boy's feelings. He wasn't going to let Ed put himself on the line willingly, but…

"Goodnight, brother."

But Al understood.

"Goodnight, Al."

A/N: I've never written a one-shot before! I hope you readers consider it decent for my first hack at this realm of writing.

To explain a little more about the title and such: I was watching the movie, Good Will Hunting, and Will said that he provoked his step dad so he would beat him instead of his mom and little brother. I was like "That is totally something Ed would do!" And this began to form in my brain.

The 'uncle' is Father. Since this is AU (not really a different universe, just no alchemy) I thought he'd fit well as Hohenheim's brother.

For Phantomhive Legacy Readers: Sorry! I'm posting this this Sunday instead of a new chapter! I think it's been good for me to get away from PL for a little bit.

Thanks! I'm a potato!