His brother is consumed by her.
After all their time journeying, all their struggling, all their longing, only to lose his brother to her. She doesn't treasure his brother like he does. She's rough and careless. She doesn't wait to watch him fall asleep. If she did, as he had done all those years, she would know that his brother is the most beautiful creature on earth when his breath leaves his body, and the pain washes away from his face. If she did, she would understand why he loves his brother so much.
He runs a finger down his brother's bare chest, following the thin red welts. He doesn't like it when she hurts his brother, when she mars his precious body. But his brother allows it, insists on it, as atonement for leaving her alone for so long, he says. He doesn't like to see his brother suffer, but he begins to think he wants to hurt his brother too. He could hurt him so much better.
His finger stops above the pant waist, the welt continues farther down. He gently tugs at the fabric, he wants to see the marks below, he says. His brother smiles.
Just like before...
This is how it should be, always, because their bodies and souls are tied by their shared transgressions, because they bled and cried and died for each other. His brother is his and his alone. He doesn't want to share. Not even with her.
There was a time when he loved her dearly, when his heart would sink because she looked at his brother as she spoke to them, as though he was a bystander in her world, as though he was second best to her.
But now, with every furtive glance, every feather touch, every private moment shared between her and his brother, resentment and malice wells up inside him. He endures it for his brother's sake, because he knows, if he makes her disappear, his brother would be sad.
Would he be sad?
Brother, he asks, is it right for her to be with us?
Over the years, his brother has learned to suppress the furrow in his brow, hide the confusion in his eyes, but ever so slightly, he can see his brother's lips press together, sealing shut, clenching in anguish.
And Al understands, to ease his brother's suffering, he must hurt him this once. A pang of guilt wracks his body at the thought of betraying his brother, at the thought of killing her, but then again, his brother will forgive him for anything, and she isn't truly their mother anymore.
A/N: I hope this makes sense o.o;; I know the pronouns are confusing, but I couldn't think of a way around it that would preserve the mood and proper amount of ambiguity. Inspired by ep 3 of the 1st anime series. I rewatched it recently and thought there was so much potential for an Oedipus complex X3