Al stood in the living room. He did not sleep, but simply passed time until his brother woke in the morning. He usually read, or thought, or walked, but he had finished his books, had little to think about, and did not feel like a long, unwinding trek, through old, familiar terrain to the cause of his disembodiment and sorrow. He stood there in the dim light of the living room, simply staring, unthinking at the wall. The house was silent, with Ed, Winry, and her grandmother were sleeping. He couldn't hear any sound, not even rustling of leaves, or the gentle breathing of the slumbering. He thought about the usual things he did. What he would do when he got his body back.
He heard a gentle rustling coming from the kitchen. Taking a ready stance to fight if needed, he walked slowly into the kitchen. He looked slowly around the room. He raised his fists, looking around again. The rustling came from the fridge. He wondered why someone would hide in such a place. He readied himself, then opened the door.
"Al?" Ed's confused voice asked.
"Ed?" Al's slightly more confused voice asked. "Why are you in the fridge?"
"Why aren't you in the fridge?" Ed replied.
"Because I'm too large. Ed, get out of the fridge." Al asked, bewildered.
"No." Came Ed's response.
"Ed, get out." Al said, now a little angry.
"No Al." Ed was slightly angrier. Al said nothing for a moment, then took stock of the contents of the fridge.
"Jesus fucking Christ, why is it full of apple juice?" Al asked, now just confused.
"They are my brethren." Ed said, hugging the apple juice bottles close to him.
"Why are they all empty, brother?" Ed remained silent, still hugging the empty bottles close to him.
"Oh my God, did you drink them all?" Al asked exasperatedly.
"This is my home Al." Al was speechless.
"The fridge?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"I'm home, brother."
