A/N: FMA is my favorite anime, so it's high time I wrote a fic for it. I don't own any of these characters, and I'm not making money off this fic. This work is solely for my own amusement (and hopefully for the entertainment of anyone else reading). Although I loved the end of the FMA movie (and because deep down inside, I really am a hopeless romantic), I wanted a different, happier ending for both Al and Ed. Enjoy.

Someone Else's Skin
Fullmetal Alchemist
Amos Whirly

Prologue – Part One

It was paradise. Crystal blue water that seemed to melt into the horizon line. Flowers that bloomed bigger than both his fists combined. Bright, happy birds and the smell of fresh fruits that didn't grow well anywhere else. Cool air off the oceans and warm light from the sun.

Paradise.

And if there were a place like it in Amestris, Ed was certain he had never been there.

Risembool was farmland, grassy plains stretching from sky to sky. Central was a jungle, although it was an urban one. Lior and other parts of Ishbal were desert and barren. The only place he could compare it to was the little island Izumi had left him and Al on when they were young (and again when they were older). A little island full of trees and surrounded by water as clear as the sky.

But as close a comparison as it was, it was still different.

Everything in the world on the other side of the gate was different, even the things that were familiar.

Ed swallowed hard and gazed into the crystal water at his feet, feeling his throat constrict and his eyes burn. No. He had promised himself he wouldn't cry. He wasn't a little boy anymore, and crying wasn't appropriate. Not that it had been appropriate when he had been a little boy. He had always left the apparent sentimentality to his little brother, preferring to smuggle his own pain deep down into the dark recesses of his heart to be dealt with on his own or not at all.

Even now, Al sat on the dock, head bowed and shoulders shaking with his tears.

"God must really hate us," Ed muttered under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Al didn't answer. He held still, the bright sun shining in his soft brown hair.

Ed sighed.

He had been selfishly happy when Al had crossed over through the gate to Munich. He had been prepared to live out the rest of his days alone, and he was willing to do so happily, knowing that his little brother was alive—whole—body and soul again. But Al (the sentimental fool) had followed him through. Followed him through the gate. And while Ed was angry on the outside, in his heart he wanted to cry and leap for joy. He'd been alone for so long.

So had started their adventure together, searching for the explosive device the crazy old scientist from Amestris had created. Ed didn't even remember the man's name anymore. He had merely joined the list of all the other crazed psychopaths that he and his little brother had brought down. But, like so many other scientists, his work lived on even though he hadn't. His explosive device – a machine that could split atoms – was lost somewhere in the world beyond the gate.

Edward and Alphonse Elric vowed to find it.

The journey had taken them farther than they had imagined and had spiraled upward and out of control before they could stop it.

In the world beyond the gate, tensions were growing between nations. Even though Ed had played a part in stopping war from breaking out once, it was on the verge of happening yet again. A war that would envelope the entire world for the second time. And the group that was starting it all—people called Nazis—had found the scientist's experiment. They had found the device, and their own scientists were working on developing their own version of it.

Ed smiled softly at the memory.

He and Al had somehow managed to sneak behind German lines, invade the facility where all the research was taking place, and destroy everything the Nazis had learned. And in the mean time, they had managed to convince many of the scientists that they could escape from Germany. They could escape from Hitler—their Fuhrer (Ed found it ironic that the title was the same).

So they did. German scientists escaped from Germany and took the secrets of the atomic bomb to America. Ed and Al escaped and made their way to paradise—Hawaii.

They arrived in the tiny island state on December 1, 1941.

That was when they met her.

Ed felt the stinging sensation at the back of his eyes again and clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his palms, determined not to cry.

Wilma Redmond.

She was a nurse at Pearl Harbor, the American Naval Base.

She was tall and slender and had long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and she had a temper. And her face—her face was enough to make Ed's heart stop beating, enough to make the pain in his chest sharpen until it felt like a sharp stake driving into his lungs. Her face made the empty, hollow feeling inside him ache with agony he knew would never really go away.

Wilma Redmond was Winry Rockbell's double in the world beyond the gate.

Ed wasn't sure he had seen what he thought he had seen. He'd had to stop and look again and stare until she caught his eye and blushed at his golden gaze. Al, surprised as his brother, had recovered quickly and managed to drag his older brother away before he made an idiot of himself.

But Ed couldn't stay away.

He'd had to see her again.

So the next day, he had gone to the hospital just to see her. He'd inquired after her. He didn't give up until he got the chance to talk to her.

Wilma was quieter than Winry had ever been and more ladylike, but she had the same fierce resolve in her face, the same fire in her eyes—the staunch determination to help people.

When he was with her, he felt like a part of his heart was restored, like the last empty spot in his life had been filled, albeit partially. Wilma wasn't Winry, but she was just enough like her to sooth the jagged edges of his lonely soul—the ones that even Al couldn't reach.

Before he knew what was happening, Ed was asking her out. And she was saying yes. And they were eating dinner on the pier, listening to the birds sing. And after only a few days of knowing her, Ed knew in his soul that he couldn't live another day without her.

He had made a mistake with Winry. He had never told her how he felt. He had never told her what she meant to him. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

Al had cautioned him (of course, Al was always the cautious one). He reminded him that Wilma wasn't Winry. (Al didn't bring up the possibility of returning to Amestris and finding Winry again. Both of them had accepted that they would never return home again—not after they had destroyed the gate.)

"Be careful, brother," Al had said quietly, gently. "It's Winry you love. We both know that. And you shouldn't use Wilma like that."

Use Wilma. Hmph. Ed still remembered the offense he had felt at his brother's accusation. They had quarreled, of course. It was usually how they solved their arguments. But even at the end, Ed insisted that Wilma needed to join them—that she needed to be a part of his life—that he felt it was right. That it was what he wanted.

And Al, being the kind and compassionate brother he was, acquiesced and wished his brother good luck.

They had their discussion on December 6. Ed had been planning to talk to Wilma in the morning. He never got the chance.

The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Wilma was below deck on one of the ships that went down. She drowned.

One year later, Ed and Al sat on the Pearl Harbor dock, staring down into the clear water where they could vaguely see the dark shadows of the ship that served as Wilma's coffin.

"God has to hate us, Al," Ed said. "Everything we've ever loved—He's taken it all away from us. Mom. Our bodies. Our friends. Our home. Now this? What else can it be?"

Al sniffled and stood up, dabbing at his eyes and nose with a handkerchief. He knew Ed was only venting. He knew his older brother's questions were rhetorical. He didn't need an answer. He just needed to talk. So Al only stood beside Ed quietly, not speaking, not answering, just listening.

They stood, side by side, for a moment more while the white-capped surf crashed on the sandy beaches.

"Come on, Al," Ed said eventually. "Let's go."

Silently, Al fell into step behind his brother as Ed started back up the dock to the mainland.

The two brothers walked to the car at the top of the hill and climbed inside.

"I'm sorry, Ed," Al said finally. "I know you miss her."

Ed only grunted and started the car.

Al shut his door and fell silent again.

Ed guided the car onto the main road and maneuvered into the early morning traffic.

"It's funny, though," Ed said suddenly, causing Al to look at him in surprise.

"What's funny, brother?"

"I can't tell you."

Al looked confused.

"I can't tell you if I miss Wilma—or if I just miss Winry." Ed's voice shook. "Maybe you were right, Al. Maybe I didn't love Wilma for Wilma. Maybe I loved her—because she was Winry."

Al smiled sadly.

"I thought," Ed said, "the first time I saw her—that maybe Winry had found a way through the gate. And that Wilma was really her. Like I had been the other me, when I came through the first time. And it was me but not me. I thought, when I saw her that first day, that maybe it was her—just wearing someone else's skin."

"But she wasn't, brother. She was Wilma."

"I know." Ed blinked hard. "She was. Now she's not anybody anymore."

Al simply patted his brother on the arm, hoping to bring him some kind of comfort, though deep in his heart he knew it wouldn't do any good.

The hole in Ed's heart was empty once more.

Al doubted his big brother would ever let it be filled again.