Written in honour of Don't Forget. October 3rd, 1910.

This was ordinally supposed to be more Elricesty, but it didn't quite turn out that way. Ah well. If you wish to see it, you can. If you don't, you don't.

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Ed laid on the side of a hill, the still-green grass just barley brushing against him. Near-by, a tree lost it's leaves, and one fell onto the side of Ed's forehead.

"Hey, Al?" Ed asked, not bothering to move it. Actually, one would wonder if he even knew it was there at all.

"Yeah, 'Niisan?" Al asked.

He wasn't sitting too far from Ed, and was sketching in the dirt with a stick carefully.

"What day is it today?" Ed asked.

His eyes didn't move from the sky, where he watched a reddish cloud float by, reflecting the light from the sun behind them.

"October third," Al said, his eyes not moving from his drawing.

Ed didn't say anything for a while. He didn't move, barely even blinked. Then he raised his right arm to the sky, almost as though he were reaching for something.

"Do you remember what day it is?"

Al nodded. "It's been six years. Even so, I don't think I could forget if I wanted to."

Ed sat up, then crawled closer to his little brother. He curled up beside him, resting his head where Al's leg met his torso.

"I wouldn't ever want to forget," Ed said, and he ran his left index finger once around his watch. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Al, but he chose to ignore it.

"I don't think I would either. We wouldn't want to make the same mistake, after-all, would we 'Niisan?"

Ed ran his right hand across the side of Al's face, wincing slightly at the sound of metal-against-metal.

"No. I wouldn't want to loose you ever again. I love you too much for that."

The two of them fell silent again, nothing but the sound of Al's stick in the dirt breaking the stillness of the night.

The sun went down.

Al reached into the pouch at the side of his leg and pulled out a piece of wire and a small pile of sand, and placed them in the middle of his drawing.

"What are you making?" he asked, watching Al.

This time, it was Al who didn't speak. Then he touched his hands to the side of the circle.

A small house, a replica of the one that they had once lived in appeared, with what looked like a woman in the window, and a small light flashed.

"Home."

Constructive Criticism more than welcome, Flames will be mocked.