He had become a dog of the military . . . he'd sold his freedom. It seemed like such a long time ago . . . but they still said he'd sold his soul. He'd done so many things for so many people wherever he went, but people still whispered behind his back about his status as a state alchemist. But it didn't matter to Ed. He was willing to sacrifice anything he could to repair what they'd lost that day. Al was his reminder. He loved his brother more than anything; it hurt him to see his brother in an unnatural body. Ed sometimes wondered if his brother blamed him for his condition. It killed him inside each time they were just a bit closer to finding their goal, only to be pulled back. He wanted his brother Al back again . . to be able to remember their childhood again, and to have his real brother beside him. Ed had daydreamed one day that if maybe, just maybe, Al had his real body once again, he could apply for the position of a state alchemist. They could work together, like brothers—like friends. But that was just a dream. Dreams could come true . . . but there was some hard work to be done, and a hard road to be followed. He didn't care what other people said; Ed would always follow them. No matter what.

Just stop enough of the limitless critical comments on my life
Just stop the judgment and all of your pseudo-involvement in my life
Step back a moment, and look at the miracle starting in our life
Don't stop the moment, and let the incredible happen knowing that

All that you want is to criticize
Something for nothing
And all that I want is forgiveness one more time
To be the best in the world

Both of them wished that their lives were different. They both remembered, whatever their form, the days when they would fight over candy—Ed always lost— and the days when their dog would steal Al's piece of cake. They were innocent then, and believed in themselves and in the art of alchemy they practiced. Give what you take, and take what you give— that was how they thought the world really worked back then. Who would take the indelible sin that the practice of forbidden alchemy had given them? Al remembered the exact moment when his brother had suggested that they try to resurrect the one person who had stayed with them until the very moment she couldn't. The memories of their mother were the sweetest, but the memory of the dark night when Ed's arm and leg—Al's whole body—had been lost were the darkest that they would ever have. That was when it all started; when Ed knew he had to become a state alchemist like the father he hated so much for leaving. He would do anything, if it meant he could restore things to the way they used to be. He wanted his old life, and to forget the suffering. The young boys didn't want their mother anymore—all they wanted was each other's company to wipe away all of the pain.

Just stop with all of your little deliberate problems with my life
Enough of all the crippling, terrible pain we feel inside
Step back a moment, remember how the miracle started in our life
Take back the torment; I won't be enjoying this moment knowing that

All that you want is to criticize
Something for nothing
And all that I want is forgiveness one more time
I know that
All that we want is to feel inside
Some kind of comfort
And all that we've done
We can hide
We'll be the best in the world

All I ever wanted was to be a real source of compassion
From the moment that we found ourselves drowning
All I ever wanted was to be a real source of compassion
From the moment that we found ourselves drowning

Ed, though he knew he was only a child, he still wanted to handle everything himself. He was the Fullmetal Alchemist, after all; no one knew more about automail and alchemy than him. But there was always Armstrong, and all the people who he had to report to, and often protected him. Ed knew he had to report to them, and be subject to their pressures. But what he would report to them . . . if he had had anything to say about it, they would only know a minimum—where they needed to go, and when— only if they demanded to know. Neither brother knew how sneaky some state alchemists could be; one of them had listened in on Ed's conversation with Al. Those "grown-ups" knew what they were looking for— the Philosopher's Stone. Now there was no doubt that he'd have to do everything their way. Ed hated living like that, though he'd chosen it when he took the exam for the position of a state alchemist. He wished that they could at least afford him some time and space . . . after all, he and Al traveled down their own path. One day, they would reach the end of that path. Then what? Ed tried to think of the look on Mustang's face when he'd slap his metal watch on the table and blow a raspberry at him.

Then again, there might be a better way of getting back at him.

All that you want is to criticize
Something for nothing
And all that I want is forgiveness one more time
I know that
All that we want is to feel inside
Some kind of comfort
And all that we've done
We can hide
We'll be the best in the world
We'll be the best in the world
Just stop enough of the limitless critical comments on my life
Just stop the judgment and all of your pseudo-involvement in my life