Author's note: Okay, I had this idea a little while ago, while I was on the tills at work, when a customer had a leaky milk carton. I spent the next twenty minutes cleaning my till, and I came up with this explanation as to why Ed hates milk so much. Milk is evil. *_* Enjoy!

"No, I'm not drinking it!"

"Come on, Brother. Mother always said that it's good for you."

"I don't care, Al! I hate it!"

"Drink!"

"No!"

"Drink!"

"No!"

Crash!

Edward and Alphonse looked at the mess. Shattered glass was everywhere, and a white liquid had spread out over the floor. Once they had taken in the scene of destruction, the four-year-old Alphonse looked at his older brother.

"Mom's gonna be mad at you," he noted solemnly.

Ed didn't have time to respond, for at that moment their mother, Trisha Elric came rushing through the door. A look of panic was set on her face.

"Edward? Alphonse?" she asked in a worried tone.

Ed didn't miss the look and felt something settling into his stomach, making him feel nauseous. He could also feel his lower lip quivering slightly and his eyes felt strange, like they were too full of something.

"We're okay, Mom," he managed to say in a small, sad voice.

Relief broke over Trisha's face and Ed felt the sensations begin to fade away. He hated making his mother sad, and he was glad that she wasn't upset anymore.

"Brother broke the glass!" Al shouted, pointing at Ed as he ratted out his brother.

"What?!" Ed protested. "No I didn't, you dropped it!"

"You pushed it out of my hands!" Al insisted.

"You wouldn't stop waving the thing in front of my face," Ed retorted.

"You should have drunk it," Al replied hotly, not willing to give in to his brother.

"I hate milk!"

"That's enough, you two," Trisha scolded the pair lightly.

"Sorry, Mom," Ed and Al chorused.

Trisha stood there for a moment, her hands on her hips. Then, her face smoothed and she walked over to the sink, picking up a towel and a small amount of money. She passed the money to Al and the towel to Ed.

"Alphonse, would you go down to the market and buy another bottle of milk for us, please?" she asked softly.

"Sure, Mom," Al nodded, taking the money.

"Now, you do that, while your brother and I clean up this mess," she instructed.

"Okay," Al agreed, running out of the house.

"Now, Edward, I want you to wait until I've brushed up the broken glass and then I'd like you to mop up the milk," Trisha explained to her five-year-old son as she looked for the dustpan and brush.

"I'm really sorry, Mom," Ed apologised.

"Oh, don't be silly," Trisha answered a light laugh in her voice. "These things happen."

Ed didn't respond, but watched his mother return with the dustpan and brush. He didn't speak as Trisha bent down and started collecting the broken glass.

It was then that Ed noticed something. The milk that had spilt over the floorboards had pooled over a great distance, and with his mother's actions, the white substance was moving further and further away from the scene of destruction.

Edward could not believe it. He was certain that the there was now more on the floor than could ever fit in the glass. Under this revelation, Ed realised that this was why he had always felt so full after a glass of milk that he'd been forced to drink.

"Edward?" Trisha asked gently, noticing how large and frightened her son's eyes had become. "What's wrong?"

"Milk..." Ed explained in a petrified whisper. "It... It grows!"