Slightly angsty stuff...possible OOC Edward? (hopes not) I hope you like it, and I hope you will leave me a review! Thank you!

Update: (3/28/07; 12:41pm)--a lot of people have been commenting that this fic should become part of a multi-chapter fic. I hear what you are saying, but I do want to put in my two cents worth about it: there is a plan for a "after-it-all" fic, but what's written here will not be part of that. Here's the deal about this story; the point of it is to keep everything open ended. It's not supposed to draw any conclusions, because it's illustrating Edward's confusion and lack of conclusions about where he is going in his life. The reader is supposed to feel that slight frustration and let down because Edward feels that way. So, this story will not ever give Edward any conclusions, because that was not the point of the story. I hope this notice doesn't offend anyone, and please keep that in mind as you read. Thank you very much, and thank you to everyone who has read this and left a review! I will take everything you say into consideration, so please keep giving your suggestions!

Imagine for a moment that your father walks out on you when you're 4.

Now imagine that your mother, the most beautiful, kind, talented, and gentle woman in the world dies when you are 9.

Now, you've been studying alchemy from the minute you practically came out of the womb, but you decide you want to get better at it, so you decide to study under a crazy woman who leaves you on an island for a whole month with some guy she hired to fight you. She trains you well, and you learn alchemy completely by the time you are 11.

Of course, all of these things also apply to your younger brother (who's really only younger than you by a year. But still taller, which just isn't right...).

You and said brother decide, with your urgings, to resurrect your mother.

Big mistake.

Everything goes wrong from the get-go. After all, human transmutation is a major taboo in the world of alchemy. Weren't you always taught that alchemists should never ever bring people back to life? Didn't your teacher make it a point to literally beat that into you?

Apparently she didn't beat you hard enough 'cause you still decided to go through with it.

Idiot, party of one...

In the rebound of said alchemical failure, your brother--the nicest, sweetest guy you will ever know who's loyal and would follow you anywhere--loses his entire body.

So, in effect, you kill your own brother.

All because of some cockamamie idea you got inside your thick head.

And the only punishment you receive is that you lose your left leg.

That's it. You lose your blasted left leg while your brother (who was hesitant from the start about performing human transmutation because he was spared from receiving the idiot gene) loses his entire body.

You are now utterly alone.

And you brought back a monster.

Your brother's fate doesn't sit too well with you, so you give up your right arm to transmute his soul into a suit of armor. Hell, you're pretty damn lucky that all you had to give up was your arm for his soul. It should have taken your heart, or all of your limbs, or even your whole damn body.

But you get away with only the loss of your arm, which is replaced, along with your leg, within a year by automail. Automail surgery is a bitch to go through, by the way, but who cares? Frankly, you deserve worse than such a slight pain after that stupid-ass thing you did.

You enlist in the military at 12 and successfully become a State Alchemist. You make some friends, and quite a few enemies within three short years as you search for the one thing that could restore your brother to his original body.

The Philosopher's Stone.

By the time you're fifteen, you find it, but it turns out that (naturally) it's been under your nose the whole time in the disguise of the seven-foot suit of armor that's been traveling beside you, which is a pretty damn clever disguise. You are used as the human sacrifice (lucky you!) to activate the brother-that-is-the-Philosopher's-Stone and somehow or another, you end up in the body of your counterpart on the other side of the Gate who dies while you are sharing his body. Back to the Gate you go, and back across, back to your own body, back to face the enemy again. The enemy tells you it's probably not a good idea to use alchemy near your brother-turned-Philosopher's-Stone, and out of fear about what might happen to him, you don't use alchemy.

While you fight your most hated enemy, you meet your older half brother.

Who kills you.

Because he's the hated enemy.

Ouch.

But, you are brought back to life by your brother.

Spared again.

But you don't deserve to be spared. You don't deserve to live while your brother--who is completely blameless in the whole mess--is trapped in the Gate again.

So, you give up all your time with your brother and restore his original body. Apparently, for the next two years, he won't remember what had happened to him in the past four years.

Meanwhile, you go back across that damned Gate and end up in the other world in your own body, and still without your left leg and right arm.

That's the price of equivalent exchange, but it's a price you're willing to pay.

You live with your asshole-of-a-father for 2 years before he goes missing again and you take up residence with a young, aspiring rocketeer who looks like your brother and, in fact, has your brother's name. You study rockets with him, but you can't get attached.

Because he's not really your brother.

And suddenly, you want to go home so bad it hurts.

You eventually do go back, but your father dies to get you there, and, somehow, by crossing the Gate you nearly destroy the world you once lived in, because no doubt you're breaking some heavenly edict and pissing off yet another Higher Being(as if they didn't have enough to be pissed off at you for, you sinner). You return to the other side, to Germany, leaving your brother to close the Gate on his side. But that sneaky little bastard hides on the rocket and comes over with you (which really made you happy, though you'll never admit that to his face.).

By 18, you have accomplished all of your goals and have had more adventures than anyone will ever have in 100 years. Many would envy your life, because you've accomplished feats that no one ever could, and seen more than anyone ever will. People will think you are amazing, and they will be so surprised at how "grownup" you act.

And that's how it ends. You settle into a peaceful life as a college professor teaching math and chemistry. Your brother marries and has three adorable (and hyperactive) kids. But, you will never love again, because the woman you love is trapped in the other world.

It feels like she died. And it feels like your friends have all died.

Sometimes you just want to lay down and cry and never get up again.

But you can't go back. And time isn't going to stand still. So you have no choice but to go forward.

So forward you go, like you always have.

But now you've become restless. You long for the adventures of the old days, and thus take out your frustrations in the lab, mixing chemicals that you know will explode when they make contact with each other. (Which, in and of itself is pretty damn fun...even though you set yourself on fire once in awhile...whoops...)

21 years old and everything is quiet.

So why isn't that good enough?

Isn't that what you wanted all along? Sure, there's no way to fix yourself so you're stuck with the automail, but you've long since accepted that burden. So why is your current life not satisfying? Why aren't you happy with the peace and quiet that you always claimed to want once the whole Philosopher's Stone Fiasco was over? What's wrong with you??

"The answers to those questions aren't scientifically quantifiable, Edward."

Damn it all to hell!! Why aren't they?? It would make life a whole hell of a lot easier...

Is this it, then? Is this what life has become? One ridiculous cycle of unhappiness and never ever being satisfied?

Bah. A person like you will never be satisfied. You always want to know more. And anything not scientifically quantifiable isn't worth your time.

Or is it?

Shouldn't you make a search like that worth your time?

But…if you can't find the answers in a lab...where can you find them?

Do they even exist?

Or have all of your sins barred you from finding them?

Where do you start looking?

Is this, then...the end of the proverbial road?

Alphonse Elric placed the paper back down on the desktop and looked over at his sleeping older brother, who lay sprawled across his old, rickety mattress, a book—as always—open on his chest, and his glasses sitting far down on his nose. With a soft smile, the younger Elric walked over, removing the glasses to deposit them to a safe place on the nightstand, and gently sliding the book out from under his brother's hand. Edward stirred only slightly, rolling onto his right side, muttering something to himself in his sleep. Alphonse draped a blanket over the older Elric.

"High maintenance as always," he whispered under his breath, shaking his head. It was like having a fourth child, except this one was older than him and was (supposedly) fully capable of taking care of himself.

Alphonse looked back at the desk, his smile fading, but the sad kindness never left his honey brown eyes. So his brother still carried those burdens? And he still thought he deserved them all? Alphonse shook his head to himself, a gesture that had become increasingly familiar to him the more he came to understand Edward's feelings. But then, it had always been a familiar gesture; instinctive, like breathing. His brother was wrong. Al could have said no at any time, so he was not completely blameless. But, that was typical Ed. As Hughes had once put it, Edward had the "martyr syndrome". He'd suffer so that no one else had to, which was probably his most endearing quality but certainly not a healthy one.

Alphonse looked back down at his brother as the man lay sleeping, his breathing deep, even, and rhythmic. His expression was peaceful and his body at ease, and he looked so much younger while he was asleep. If not for the length of his ponytail, he could have almost been fifteen again. He suddenly began to mumble softly in his sleep, almost inaudibly, but Alphonse could pick up a familiar name, the word "bastard" quickly following. That was a change. Most times, Edward was dreaming about Winry.

And, though Edward wasn't aware of it, Alphonse knew his older brother cried over losing her, sometimes in his sleep, and sometimes during the day when he thought no one was looking. Al worried about that. It seemed Edward would never get over her.

Suddenly, he went over to the desk, and under his brother's furious, flourishing scrawl, he wrote four simple words:

The answers lie within.

He nodded. Yes, that was it. He knew that Ed—the possessor of what might be the world's most analytically and scientifically talented (yet oft blinded) mind—might not understand, and might get even more frustrated with that, but he knew, too, that his brother would stubbornly roll it around in his brain until either a solution presented itself or he gave himself one of his infamous migraines that would end up trapping him in bed for a week. And then he would continue to ponder the question and drive himself crazy to the point that Alphonse would have to call in reinforcements—who went by the name of Hildy by day—to forcefully turn Edward's thoughts from the topic.

Alphonse grinned wryly, looking over at his sleeping brother's back. That would be a sight to behold, for nothing would please Hildy more than the opportunity to annoy Edward when his defenses were low and he couldn't escape from her. Though they all knew that, honestly, Hildy meant well and she was just as concerned as everyone else about Edward's health and wellbeing (which, of course, she'd never say that to her employee as long as there was still breath in her body. It was her opinion that Ed's ego was quite big enough without her help.). But Hildy often had a strange way of showing her emotions, and she was simply treating Edward like she would a little brother. Alphonse chuckled softly and shook his head. He knew that somehow Edward would find the answers. He always did. That much Alphonse knew.

He looked over at the sleeping form again, his smile tinged with sadness.

"Ed…just…be happy," he said softly, so softly that could barely hear himself.

He walked out of the room, turning off the lamp as he passed.

END

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