"Solitary Thoughts"
FMA continuation/AU fic
By DarkCyradis
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is copyrighted to Arakawa Hiromu, Aniplex, Studio Bones, and FUNimation. Not me.
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I'm happy for Al, I really am. He shouldn't have to remember those horrible things… he shouldn't have to live his life an outsider. He's not meant to be. I sometimes wondered about how he'd be when I turned him back… would the years living outside the warm circle of humanity leave him scarred? Now, I guess, that's not an issue at all. Those cold, lonely years won't hurt him because he doesn't remember them. No, not even that—he won't be affected by them because they never happened to him. None of it, none of the pain, the confusion, the terror of those four years ever happened to him. He's not the Al—no. No, I don't dare think it. This is Al, the Al I grew up with, same soul and body, the real Al.
…But still, somehow, when I think of Al subconsciously, in the corner of my mind, he's a large presence, comforting, sheltering—clanking, ha. That's what I feel, deep inside. That suit of armor.
I guess it's only natural, living for years cherishing that metallic husk as the soul it carried within it. Sometimes, I miss it… that solemn, sober gaze the armor's empty eyes turned on me… that "face" was such a comfort to me in the darkest of those times. Seeing it meant safety, the only bastion of it I had, really. Or at least, the only one I allowed myself to have. And now… it's gone.
What am I saying? Why would I want some hunk of armor when I have my little brother—my real, flesh-and-blood little brother—back again? He even looks just the way I remember him, the bright-eyed, little 10-year-old… 10-year-old… and those four years are gone.
Damn. Why am I thinking like this? Look at him—he's so happy! For the first time in years, the picture of life at Rizenbul is complete again. No awkward suit of armor in the corner— just a happy, warm, soft boy, in his soft, colorful clothes, playing with Den, chewing a fresh-baked roll, rolling around on the grass, splashing around in the pond, looking at me, smiling at me… It's wonderful. It's perfect. He's so great to see…
To see, but…
What's the matter with me! Did I want Al to suffer? To stay in that cold, lonely state? Didn't I swear to get his body back and do it? Everything's perfect—he doesn't even have to deal with whatever emotional damage living those four years as a suit of armor might have done, it's all perfect! Just the way I wanted it—I erased the unerasable sin. Not even the memory of it remains… at least, not anywhere but in me.
Well, there was only Al and me to begin with. And now, he doesn't remember any of it. No, he didn't even experience it… that's what was lost in exchange for his body. But… who lost it? He's better off for it, so this time, it looks like it all came out for the better… or did it?
All that was lost were Al's memories of those four years of our journey… the experiences, the people we met, the things we did… Sure, he became a much better alchemist and fighter in that time, and that's lost, but he can practice again. Since he's back to where he was four years ago, for the first time, I'm a better fighter than him. And I'm taller. That's… kind of funny. And kind of sad, too. He doesn't get my jokes about Envy anymore, and he doesn't remember about Russel and Fletcher, or Majihal, or Psiren, or any of the other weird people we met along the way. He doesn't remember the Colonel, though I guess that's no big loss. He doesn't remember Nina, or Lieutenant Hughes…
…Well, what does it matter? Those are just memories that would depress him, anyway. I'll keep their memories in me, and that will be enough. …I don't speak to him about the sad things—what's the point of bringing him down with stuff he didn't live through? But I do wish, sometimes, that I could talk to someone about them. If only…
…
…Damn. I'll just say it.
If only Al was here.