(Additional A/N- Hey look, I found this fanfic stored away. Turns out I wrote this during the lower parts of the summer when I didn't have internet, and the boredom forced me to write nonstop. So I'm putting it up now. I'm dedicating this to Cathy-chan, since she loves Ed!angst so much)

Original A/N-Do the insane know that they've lost it? And how do the sane know that they are sane? The line's thin. Our minds expand to such that the reality that we've grown accustomed might just be a lie. It's never for sure. Hell, maybe I'm insane. And maybe you are too.

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His distant golden eyes darting from place to place, Edward crammed himself further pressed against the walls. His body was only a shadow of what it once was, now frail and sickly, shivering from the cold of the room. His skin was nearly transparent from refusal to eat or sleep, his bones clearly showed through the leather black, sweat soaked and vomit encrusted clothes he refused to take off; his hair was overgrown, free from its usual braid and hung limply beside his thin face. Large, dark bags had formed under his eyes, still darting around the room in a panic. His breath catching in his parched throat, he drew both legs close to his chest, hugging them close with his bony arms. Above his head, a single dimming light bulb swayed on its wire, casting shadows around the dark room. Edward's eyes widened at the dark creatures he thought he saw and tried to scream, successful only in making a thin, rasping sound.

Forcing his body to press more securely against the hard, fluid smeared walls, Edward closed his eyes and breathed slowly as if to calm his speeding heart; a useless effort since as soon as he opened his eyes, he'd panic again. Everything he saw was trying to hurt him in more ways then he already was. All of them were trying to end his pathetic, broken life. Even knowing this, he didn't care, almost wishing for death even if he feared it. And this is how he lived his days.

Life had no meaning anymore. His existence had no point. Every day, every minute he'd feel the pain of losing Al over and over again. Edward's body shook with wails of sorrow, now ignorant of the cold. The damn transmutation for his body ended in a terrible failure. The image of a broken bag of gore and gristle burned into his mind, blocking out any other emotion besides grief. And yet they mocked him, spitting out lies to try and confuse him. No one could possibly understand how close the two were. They needed each other to survive the outside world. They were each other's shield to the crushing pressure of loneliness. Now that he was gone…He looked up and stared at the dim, flickering light, his mouth cracked open slightly. He smiled slightly, imagining his brother's face in the swaying light and threw his head back, barking out wild laughter at how stupid he'd been acting just seconds before. There was a way to stop the pain, and he knew it.

Pulling away from the corner, Edward crawled away from his safe spot and weakly shuffled his way over to the dusty white bed he neglected to sleep on. He laughed again as he reached it, enjoying the sound of the dying echoes around him. Digging his hand underneath the soft pillow, he pulled out a long piece of black metal, cold in his touch. The weapon he had used to senselessly kill any and all who tried to hurt him. Echoes of their screams of horror and their pleas for mercy rang in his ears. The smell and taste of their blood that had splattered his skin with red patterns were raw and fresh, almost as if he were feeling them for the first time again. Running his tongue against the metal of the gun to catch a taste of the old, crusted dry blood that stained the black metal; he smiled at the familiar taste. Giggling feebly, he scooped it in close to his chest and crawled to the middle of the room where the light was shining. He had done it…he'd outsmarted the bastards that had kept him locked here. No more will they be able to torture him with their lies anymore. He smiled as he clutched to the killing machine like a lifeline. He'd be free, and he'd be able to see Al, and he'd be able to see his Mother.

Fumbling with the gun for a moment, he finally had it poked into his stomach. His breath caught in his throat, burning like poison. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, ticking away the seconds. He shut his eyes hard and squeezed the trigger. It was quick; a burst of pain erupted into his stomach and shot up his throat, sending hot, bubbling liquid to froth out of his mouth. Toppling back, he writhed in pain as he felt blood spill from him and pool beneath him. Finally, he lay still, breathing heavily before sitting up in frustration. It was all a fake again. They knew, and they were playing with his mind again! Grabbing the gun he had carelessly thrown back, he glared into the obviously empty barrel. Screaming angrily, he hurled it hard to crash into the wall. So close! He threw himself onto the ground, bawling and beating his fists repeatedly into the ground, sending droplets of his vomit to splash everywhere.

He suddenly stopped, hearing a sound behind him. Clambering to his weak and stumbling back, he watched as the seamless walls opened up, sending bright beams of light in to sting at his eyes. A woman cautiously walked inside, pulling a rolling cart behind her. She was accompanied by a young man, who looked nervous just to be in his presence. The woman who appeared to be a nurse closed the door behind her. Taking a moment to pick up a sharp syringe from the cart, she approached him, calling his name gently, reaching one hand out to him as the other held the syringe.

Clutching the gun close to him again, he watched her, following her with his golden eyes, remnants of sticky vomit dripping off his chin. When she was close enough, he suddenly lashed out the hand wielding the gun, smacking her hard across the face with the heavier bottom of the gun. She stumbled back and dropped the needle, the area where he had hit her already bruised. Ignoring the man's cry of alarm, he jumped to his feet, pushing her back to the wall, where she struck her head and crumbled to the ground. Panting loudly, he noticed her slow breathing. His eyes narrowed into a deadly glare as he lifted the weapon over his head to finish the job.

Suddenly he was jerked back, his precious gun pulled away from him and his arms pulled behind his back. He roared angrily, saliva frothing from his mouth as he thrashed around, trying to get free. Kicking his legs out from under him, he got the man who had restrained him to topple over, dragging Ed with him. Managing to free at least one arm, he continued to thrash until he was struck across the face. Freezing from he stinging pain in his cheek, tears filled his eyes as he stared at the man who hit him. His eyes widened in shock when he realized the man wore the face of his brother. He's back, he thought instantly, his mind gripped with panic. The murderous being that hated his entire existence, just for carrying the blood of his father. The homunculus Envy; one he had thought he had rid the world of when he came into this very room disguised as a blonde blue eyed girl he couldn't recognize anymore. But he had returned, and he'd stolen the face of the brother he knew was dead, just to spite him. He drew his closed fist back, ignoring the mock look of fear the homunculus before him gave and tried to punch him but found that he couldn't move. After not seeing his brother's face for so long, hope had already sprung that he was alive, even if he knew it was all just a lie. Knowing all he was doing was speeding up his eventual murder, he immediately broke out into tortured sobs, swaying his body in a futile attempt to get free from the homunculus' death grip on his arms.

The man frowned at him, slowly letting him go. Edward quickly grabbed the man by his jacket, pulling him close. Trying to ignore the tears still raining down his face, he tried to hit him when he stopped, his fist dropping to his side. That man's face only reminded him of his brother, making him sob even harder. Gripping the man's collar harder, he drew him close, whispering into his ear, "P-please…kill me…I want to be...with my b-brother...with Al...please...p-please..." He managed to rasp. The man stared at him, amber eyes filled with sadness and pity, emotions he had never thought a homunculus could possibly understand. He nodded slowly, pulling him closer into an embrace. "I will." He replied, his voice cracking slightly. The man reached for the fallen syringe at their side, taking it and staring at it for a moment. Edward only had time to wonder what it was for when the needle plunged into the almost transparent flesh of his arm. He shrieked in agony as the serum drained into his body, ripping it from his skin the second he could. Gaping weakly at the empty vile, he vomited again, uncontrollable spasms ripping through his body. Pushing the boy away, he clutched his head and screamed until his voice choked and died. His vision fading, he groped blindly around, mad whimpers escaping him as numbness started to envelop his body. Eventually, his body fell to the ground, unable to move. Screaming in anguish in his mind as his throat was slowly closing on itself, his dull gold eyes rose slightly, catching sight of the other boy, who was staring into his lap with his fists clenched and crying. "I'm sorry Brother…" He kept whispering.

Realization clutched his dying mind. "A-al?" He croaked, his eyes filling with tears again. He looked up in shock. "Brother…you…recognized me?" Al breathed, crawling over to him and scooping him into his arms, silently crying. His mind was left frantic. No! No! Dammit! I don't want to die! He screamed through his very soul, almost feeling the words burst out of him. "Alphonse…" He heard himself say instead as his brother clutched him close. He heard himself chanting his name until his voice faded away. His eyes closed and soon, even his soul's screams were silenced as he finally left this world.