They were on another train.
Ed was sitting across from Al and looking out the window at sheep and fields and places that could have been Risembool but weren't. His mind was whirling in circles, thinking of what they did and could have done and what they should have done…
"Al."
"Yes, Brother?" Al looked up from the book he was reading.
Ed didn't turn from the window, but clenched his fists.
"Do you regret burning the house down?"
Al sat back, feeling the familiar ache.
"What would we have done if we hadn't burned it down?"
Ed was silent.
"I think we would have gone back, Brother. We would have had a place to return to."
Ed squeezed his eyes shut. "But that house was all we had left of Mom," he said, voice thick.
Al felt a sharp pain stab through his soul.
"We have each other," he said.
Ed thought of a burnt foundation, of a lonely tree. He thought of a monster buried beneath a dirt floor.
He also thought of a woman with soft brown hair and a golden haired boy tottering after his older brother. He thought of their plans, their fragile, fragile hope.
Ed opened his eyes and looked across the cabin to the suit of armor sitting there. Its inhuman red eyes shone with a sadness and intensity that Ed could only imagine mirrored his own. And Ed promised himself once again that someday soon, those eyes would be golden.
"Yeah, Al. We do."