A/N: Hello, and welcome. This is the first story that I, Aki, will be posting on this shared account. I wrote this for a random prompt a long time ago, and am posting it now as a belated Christmas present for my friend Ally. It's not one of my best works, nor very original, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same. Please take time to review, and thank you for reading.

Warnings: Quite a lot of coarse language, disturbing imagery.

Prompt: Hairbrush

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

"Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives."

~Richard Bach

Reflection

"There are those who create and those who destroy."

"You and I are just the same!"

"No..."

"It'll lead you straight to hell."

"The main ingredient for the Stone is a living human being!"

"Do you hate me?"

"Al..."

"Am I a lie, Brother?"

"No, Al, I..."

"I HATE YOU!"

Ed jolted up in bed, eyes wide with raw terror. He gasped for air, frantically searching for Scar, Tucker, Al... Al... Stifling a sob, he fell back against the sweat-soaked pillow, automail arm thrown across his face. He welcomed the cold of the metal against his flushed face. A nightmare, only a dream. But it's not dream, a little voice in the back of his head whispered accusingly. This is what you deserve. Your punishment.

Ed choked back the tears burning behind his eyes (Damn it, stop crying, not when Al...) and squeezed his eyes shut, instinctively shielding them from the bright morning light that streamed through the window (Just a dream, calm down, calm down...damn it...) Ed lay there, panting, as he strained to hear the familiar sound of Al moving around the apartment, clanks and clatters...(The armor, he's a soul in a goddamn suit of armor what have I done, oh, God, help me please...). But his brother was alive, if not breathing, so wasn't that a proof that God existed? (Haven't we been punished enough for our-my sins?)

Enough. Ed shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind and curled into a little ball under the sheets, feeling the sharp clarity of panic fade from his body. Letting out a soft moan, he kicked the soiled sheets off and hauled himself into a sitting position, arms reaching up above his head. A yawn left his mouth as he massaged his right shoulder, the stiff metal constantly pulling at his bones and muscles and skin. He noticed distractedly that his hair was matted into one big knot. Great.

Ed stood and stumbled into the bathroom, rinsing out his mouth and locating the hairbrush. The shadow of a smirk flashed across his face, remembering the day Winry had thrown it at him, screaming that if he was going to keep his hair long, he'd better take care of it. Scooping up a handful of cold water, he splashed it against his face, flesh hand groping for a towel. He dried his face, vainly hoping for a hint of stubble but finding none. Then he looked in the mirror.

His reflection stared back at him, haunted eyes wide with horror. He hated his eyes, hated that gold, hated that he HAD eyes when Al...(Eyes are the windows to the soul, right? Al's soul glows pink...not gold, like before-no no no all my fault...) He hated his face, he hated that he had a face, eyes, nose, arms, flesh when Al... (So sorry...so sorry...) An arm and a leg made out of metal, painful yet necessary reminders of that night; of how he had tried to play God. But let him bear the pain.

With a choked gasp, Ed tore himself away from the mirror, gripping the counter with his automail hand. Every time, every goddamn time he looked at his reflection, he was reminded of what he had done-("Big Brother, something's wrong!" "IT'S A REBOUND!" "ED, HELP ME! ED! PLEASE!" "AL!") "No..." ("Mom?")

The sound of breaking glass jolted Ed out of the flashback. He had slammed his right fist into the mirror, creating a spider's web of cracks in the glass.
"Brother? Are you alright?!"

Shit! Edward rushed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and threw himself onto the bed, sticking the hairbrush into the tangle that was his hair. The bedroom door opened slowly, Alphonse poking his helmet-(Empty, it's empty...)-in. "Brother? What happened? Are you okay?" (No, don't call me that. I don't deserve to be your-)

"I'm fine, Al." Ed began the painstaking process of detangling his hair, using the snarls as an excuse not to meet Alphonse's gaze (Does it count as a gaze if he doesn't have any eyes?).

"O-kay..." Alphonse drew out the word, letting the sound echo in his hollow (Oh, God...) interior. Ed continued at his task, hissing when he yanked out a couple golden strands. He slid a finger between the bristles and freed a clump of hair from the brush. It retained its compact shape in his palm, ends creating a kind of starburst shape... (-blood splattered everywhere. On my hands, on my legs-oh God my leg! So that was the toll- damn it! "AL! ALPHONSE!" He's not gone he's not-where is he? Oh God, he was part of the toll this is all my fault-what is that? Mom? "Mom?" Oh God. OH GOD. IT'S A MONSTER. WHAT HAVE WE DONE, AL?! ...Al? DAMN IT, WHERE ARE YOU?! DON'T BE DEAD; DON'T LEAVE ME! COME BACK! HELP! SOMEONE HELP! IT HURTS IT HURTS OH, GOD PLEASE NO- Oh. The armor. Oh-)

"ED!"

Cold metal hands (All my fault...) on his back ("GIVE HIM BACK!") soothing him. His hands were empty, devoid of blood (They're not clean, not-) and the hairbrush was gone, on the other bed's immaculate sheets (He can't sleep, can't eat, can't feel, all my fault.), probably placed there by Al, who was all around him, touching him, whispering to him in that voice that always seemed so out of place in that massive suit of armor ("HE'S THE ONLY FAMILY I HAVE LEFT!").

"Edward, come back."

Everything was shaking, spinning, no, he was shaking, hands-hand ("Back again?") shaking, trembling, quaking. Shapes made blurry by tears-(No, don't cry, no, no, stop it! Don't let him see you like this!)-that he blinked away, teeth clamping down on his lower lip, breaking through, tasting blood, no no no no (NO NO NO NO) "No, no, no-"

"Take deep breaths." Al's voice was calm, steady, not shaking like his hands (HAND!), a beacon in the darkness, light at the end of the tunnel."You're here, with me, in this room, alive. I'm alive, and your breakfast is getting cold. I'm going to eat it if you don't." (Al's...alive.) Ed let out a long breath, struggling to get his breathing under control. "Winry called earlier. She wanted to check to make sure you haven't broken your automail. Mrs. Hughes called too. She invited us over for dinner tonight. Apparently, Elysia got a kitten." Al's voice took on an excited undertone as he continued, "It's only a couple months old. I wonder if I'll get to hold it."

Ed inhaled again, drowning in the beautiful, sweet sound of his little brother's voice. He felt a gentle pressure on his scalp, and realized that Al was slowly working the brush through his hair, picking apart the tangles with ease. Al kept on talking, talking about Havoc's latest girlfriend ("She works in a bakery near Riza's apartment! Riza thinks Havoc's going to get fat off the cakes she feeds him."), Black Hayate's exploits ("Apparently, Roy and his team thought the bones Black Hayate buried over by Warehouse B were human bones and stayed up night digging them up."), and the massive poster of Elysia now adorning the side of Central Command ("Well, they can't prove Mr. Hughes did it...").

Throughout all of this, Ed just relaxed into his brother's ministrations, enjoying the feel of the bristles moving against his head. His mind was blank, empty of the ever-present pain and guilt and darkness for the first time in...months? Years? He couldn't remember the last time he had felt...safe. Yes, that was it. Safe. Al...understood, he didn't have to be strong and it just felt so...relaxing. Mm.

"There," Al finally announced, tying off the braid with a dark elastic. Standing, he made his way to the door before turning back to toss a "Your breakfast is on the table." back at his brother. Ed let a little smile grace his face, meeting the level gaze of his younger brother. No other words were spoken, but no other words were needed to convey their feelings. Thanks...Al... Al's soulfire eyes flickered knowingly as the armored boy left the room. I will get our bodies back-no, WE will get our bodies back.

Because you're not alone, Brother.

Yes. Because I have you.

A/N: So, how was it? Please take time to tell me what you think. :)