The point of a oneshot like this is to capture a significant moment that was missed in the series. That's why I don't like this piece very much- it captures the moment, but it's not at all a significant one.

This used to be the beginning of another oneshot, but the ending was shit so I deleted it.

I don't expect anyone to love this- it's just scrap material that I didn't really want to get rid of. (Though, I'm actually very proud of myself for working up the nerve to post again)

Counting Raindrops

Thin rivulets of rainwater streaked down the window, leaving tiny dots and lines in their wake. Ed focused his gaze on the pattern of water that adorned the glass, then on the fields that lay beyond it. In, out, in, out, until his eyes were straining.

He turned his head to the left- he imagined his neck squeaking as though he were a robot, short on oil- and gazed at the floor. Water leaked through the walls and created small rivers in the cracks between the floor tiles. He wished that someone would fix it. Every time it rained, the room was transformed into a miniature ocean because of leaking.

He glanced back at the window and watched the reflection of his brow crease in frustration.

"It's not possible!" he shouted.

His words were met with silence. The pitter-patter of rain on glass was the current background music for his life. It had been raining for the past three days, transforming the landscape into something that resembled a muddy sponge.

Ed wrinkled his nose in annoyance. He was currently in the 'center of the universe' frame of mind, and the lack of response annoyed him greatly. He leapt off the stool and landed on the floor with a loud clunk.

He shook his foot, trying to rid it of the pins-and-needles feeling of falling asleep, while using his hands to cover his nose. The rain made the entire house smell like wet dog, although there was no such animal on the premises.

"Mo-om!" He shouted, splitting the monosyllabic word in half. "Mo-om, come here! Mo-"

"Edward, what are you doing?" Trisha asked. She appeared seemingly out of nowhere, as if responding naturally to the call of her title- Mom. Alphonse stood behind her, gripping her skirt as if he needed protection from his own brother.

"I'm counting the raindrops," Ed said simply as he rubbed his toes in a vain attempt to make the feeling return. "You told me to, don't you 'emember?"

"Why in the bathroom?" Trisha asked, trying to sound curious instead of low on patience. Al's fear of thunderstorms had escalated to a fear of rain as a whole, thunder or not, and she had spent the last hour helping him fend off fright.

Ed shrugged. "'Cause you an' Al were in the kitchen and this is the second-best window. Can I stop counting now?"

"How much raindrops is there, brudder?" (1) Al asked, staring up at Ed with curious eyes. "Did you count 'em ALL?"

Ed shook his head. "No. It's not possible." He looked up at his mom. "Why're you smiling?"

"No reason," said Trisha, wiping the small grin off her face. Children were so precious when young. She wondered where all that innocence would go when they grew older. She quickly pushed the thought aside- no use thinking of the future that she may not even be around to witness. It was better to concentrate on the present, lest she miss something important.

"Can we go in dad's study?" Ed asked, carefully trekking around the word 'play.' Trisha's attention snapped back to the situation at hand and the question that loomed before her. Her brow wrinkled nervously.

"I don't think so. I want it to be clean when he comes home, just like how he left it," she said, trying her best to sound authoritative. Hohenheim, as well as anything related to him, was her weakness. Just the mention of his name, or a glimpse of his belongings, sent her into inner turmoil. She always waved the feeling away by informing her children that he was coming home, although she was trying more to reassure herself than to comfort them. It was horrible, she knew, to raise them with lies, but she found no other way out.

"Pleeease?" begged Ed. "I'm bored, really really bored! I'll be nice to Al, I promise!" Al nodded in agreement, as if he had control over Ed's attitude toward him- though, unfortunately, this wasn't true.

Trisha's resolve softened when she saw the look in their eyes. She was willing to bet that they could get anything just by staring. (2)

"Do you promise not to make a mess?" she asked. They both nodded vigorously but said nothing, as if frightened that words would ruin their chances.

She sighed. "All right, you can play in your father's study. But be very, very careful, okay?"

"'Kay!" said Ed, a grin spreading across his face. Al mimicked his brother's smile with enthusiasm. The two ran off down the hallway, the floorboards squeaking loudly beneath their feet.

Trisha smiled once more before settling into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

1) Little-kid grammar is like an entirely different language. ^^

2) It's true. Izumi, the badass housewife, was charmed into teaching them alchemy for six months just because they stared at her. Magic eyes!

Notice: Eleventeen million awesomeness points to anyone who can tell me what My Immortal was about. According to my (extremely reliable) sources, it was a Twilight fanfic, famous for being depressingly bad. It was deleted a while ago- before I could read and mock it. Please, if you remember anything from this particular fic, do not hesitate to tell me.

EDIT: My other reliable sources have been telling me that it's actually a Harry Potter fic. Strange. Does it have anything to do with someone named Tara or Tanna or something?