Well, it seems that the stories I can just sit down and spit out are the ones I get plot bunnies from at 1:30 in the morning. I know some of you are wondering where your Urchin update is, and all I can say is that it's getting done. It's getting done very slowly, but it is being worked on. About this story, it can be read with or without your slash goggles on, so feel free to interpret as you will. Besides that, there's nothing much else to mention besides "I love reviews" and "I don't own", so enjoy!

Rain down, all around the world we're singing
Rain down, can you hear the earth is singing
Rain down, my heart is dry but still I'm singing
Rain down, rain it down on me

- Rain Down - Delirious

It was raining. Why was it that whenever horrid things happened, it always rained? It was as if the sky had a direct line to his heart, where it could take his feelings and project them for all of Amestris to see. Or perhaps it wasn't quite as malicious as that. It could be that the sky had loved Al, and was simply joining him in the process of mourning. Either way, the rain was cold and miserable and absolutely perfect.

Edward Elric lay flat on his back, gazing up at the weeping sky. There was very little greenery in the complex that was Central Headquarters, but little patches of grass were stylistically scattered in between sidewalks that connected the various buildings. It is in one such patch that Ed was currently camped out, trying to figure out his emotions.

There was hatred, of course, a sort of self-loathing that could come only from the worst kind of accidents. Ed had thought that he had come to terms with what he had done to Al the night of the transmutation, but now… Now there was no Al. He had failed.

Regret was also a dominant figure. If only, if only, if only. It was a simple mantra that had chosen Ed as its next victim, running gleefully across his mind, playing on memories and buried feelings, telling him that if only he'd studied harder, if only he hadn't been so cocky, if only he hadn't put his only brother in that armor in the first place…

Sadness. Of course, sadness. Edward would rather deal with any other emotion than this one. Sadness was a wicked thing, one moment letting him sit in peace, the next, having him remember all the good times with Al that he would never have again. Sadness wasn't content to stay inside, nicely hidden like the others. It oozed out of his very pores in the form of bitter, salty tears. The sky was kind enough to try and hide them, but Ed knew that if anyone looked close enough, sadness would only push them out more.

But the worst emotion, even worse than sadness' crushing squeezes on his heart, even worse than regret preying on his weaknesses, even worse than the subtle, simmering violence of hatred, was despair. Despair was what really had him outside of Central Headquarters lying in the grass. Despair was everything. The feeling that he could never, ever move on from this point was so overwhelming that Ed would rather die than cope with it… which, he supposed, was what would please despair. Despair was what made him think about the future and how there simply couldn't be one without his beloved brother. Despair was the one who cried loudly that there could simply be no point in life without Al… which, by the way, was Edward's own fault.

He was only fifteen, for Gate's sake! He shouldn't have to deal with this kind of thing!

But he was, and he didn't know how to deal with it. The rain was his only friend in the world now with Al gone. The rain was the only one that understood.

His automail hand crushed a small dandelion, leaving yellow dust staining the intricate technology. Winry would probably kill his for it, but then, who cared? He would welcome her rage, returning just a slight semblance of normality to his life – as if he could ever be normal again with Al gone.

A small whimper escaped Ed's lips. "Alphonse…"

The sound of heavy, military-issued boots crunching on gravel behind him failed to make his stir, even as the figure wearing said boots lay down on the grass beside him. The two remained like that for a while, until the man next to Ed began to talk.

"You know, Maes was like my brother." Dark eyes shut with a sigh. "We grew up together."

"Mustang…" Was Mustang of all people, going to try and comfort him? Edward scowled slightly. Nothing could comfort him, not now that he was alone in the world.

"He was the first friend I ever had. I met him on my first day of school. He was running around our little classroom, showing everyone pictures of his baby sister and trying to find someone who cared." Mustang chuckled bitterly. "I told him he was insane and to never come near me again and he decided that he was my friend." Out of the corner of his eye, Ed saw Mustang turn his head to look at him. When he said nothing, the colonel continued. "After that, we were inseparable. For twenty-four years, we were inseparable. He was my best friend, my confidant, my advisor, my brother in everything but blood. I was his best man when he married Gracia, and he told me that if I would ever settle down, he would do the same for me. I think he was planning on trying to have me get together with Riza."

Ed snorted. "She'd shoot you if you ever tried."

Roy smiled wryly. "Yes, she probably would. But even so, everything was wonderful. He named me Elysia's godfather when she was born, and annoyed me with photos of her to the point that I was ready burn him to a crisp, just to make him shut up. He was… truly, a best friend for life. I could just picture us as eighty-year-olds, sitting in rocking chairs, with him showing off pictures of great-grandkids and nagging me to join him at Wednesday night bingo."

Edward almost smiled at the thought of a Roy Mustang with white hair and wrinkles. His commanding officer seemed to know what he was thinking and gave a bitter laugh as well.

"Yes, well, it was wonderful, always having him around for laughs and advice, and, if the situation called for it, a happy hour outing to a bar. But then…" Mustang trailed off. The unspoken words echoed in Edward's head as clearly as if Roy had said them himself. But then… he died…

"I almost destroyed myself," the colonel continued. It seemed to Edward that he was talking more to himself now than Ed. "I hadn't really realized how much I'd depended on him until he was gone. Maes… he always gave the advice I needed to hear, he always helped drag me out of whatever mess I was in, he…" Mustang sighed. "It was a rut in my life I wasn't sure I could ever recover from."

"But you did." It was as much of a statement as it was a question. How?

Roy seemed to understand this, this question, this whole unspoken communication between them. "Yes, I did. Because I had Riza. She's the one who really helped me out at first, and later, the one who forced me to get on with my life. I believe her exact wording was, 'Do you think Maes would want to see you like this? If he were here, he'd waste his precious film reserved for Elysia and take a picture of you, just to show you how awful you look.' After that, things just sort of… fell back into place. They were just in a different place than where they'd started at."

"What are you trying to say, Mustang?"

"I…" Ed gazed at the colonel beside him as he fumbled for words that, until this point, had come so easily. The sound of the rain pounded in Ed's ears as the distracted sort of peace he felt until this moment shattered. An overwhelming shiver ran though him and he suddenly realized how cold and wet the rain really was, how his shirt was practically glued to him with water, how his hair was falling right over his eye, how the grass prickled his flesh arm, how his automail sloshed with water that had found its way into the machinery, how alive the world around him seemed. How could all these things around him be alive when his own little brother wasn't?

Ed wanted to scream to the heavens to stop wasting its time mourning for Al and just to give him back! They had listened once, hadn't they? It had cost him an arm, but he'd gotten a small portion of his brother back along with the hope that Al could eventually be fully restored… which, in the end, was what truly killed him. Alphonse hadn't been restored, he'd been destroyed, and it was all Ed's fault.

The pressure sensors on his automail told him that something had just touched him, and he glanced to the right to the Mustang holding his prosthetic hand gently in his own flesh one. "Edward… you asked why I came. It's because you need to put you life back together, and you need someone to help you do that." He chuckled, but there was no trace of humor on his face. "I know we've always tried our best to hate each other, but…"

Ed shrugged and turned his head away from Mustang. He heard his commanding officer sigh and prepare to stand up, but Ed tightened the grip of the automail of Roy's hand before he could leave.

Roy Mustang had just bared his soul to him, why? To comfort him? To show him that he could sympathize?

No. It was to show him that he could find it within himself to move on. Maybe it wouldn't happen today, maybe it wouldn't happen tomorrow. But he would, one day, be able to stand on his own and walk on his own and live on his own with only the memory of Al.

He glanced back at Roy, who was looking thoroughly soaked, and only was in the first place because he had come out here to talk to Ed. "We'd better get inside. We're getting drenched."

Roy smiled softly. "Yes we are. That sounds like a brilliant idea." He stood up slowly and offered a hand to Ed, who grabbed it and pulled himself up. Together, the two walked back inside the main building of Headquarters, side by side. No words were exchanged, but then, none were really needed.

Unbeknownst to Ed, the rain was slowly letting up, and the previously hidden sunshine was beginning to show its warm smile.