But it was just another sacrifice Ed had been willing to make. Anything for Alphonse.
"Hey Ed?"
Edward didn't bother looking up from the book in his hands. "Mmm?"
"If we can really bring mom back..."
Ed buried himself further in the book. "There's no 'if', Al. It's only a matter of when."
Ed shivered at the chilly night air as he pushed himself out of bed. The chill felt like hundreds of small, icy needles ramming themselves through his body. He reached out for a robe and wrapped it around himself, making his way across the tiny cell of a room towards the window, taking care to muffle the clanking of automail against the floorboards. Perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him, but Edward was almost sure that he was beginning to limp. A rueful smile graced his lips as he stared blankly out into the night streets, absentmindedly reaching down to rub the piece of metal that was his leg. He wondered in passing what he'd do once he outgrew these familiar metal limbs.
Two young pairs of eyes peered anxiously through the smoke surrounding them. There was silence. And then... "WUAAAA! Al! I think we finally did it!"
As the thick, artificial smog around the two boys began to clear, a small, wooden Trojan horse came into view. It was small – probably around the size of an overweight guinea pig – and poorly made, but it was nonetheless, a horse.
Breathlessly, the elder of the two boys bent down to pick up the wooden horse – it was small and muted, but it was also their first victory. At the slightest touch, it shattered into a hundred little pieces of wood in his hands.
"Aww... Ed... look what you did," the smaller of the two exclaimed, bending down to examine the small splinters of wood scattered onto the ground.
The elder boy stood up, feigning a look of indifference; if the younger one saw through the façade at all, he didn't comment on it. "It's okay," the elder boy commented, waving his hands in the air carelessly. "We'll just transmute another one."
"Easy for you to say," the younger boy replied, scooping the wooden bits into a pile. "This is our tenth one."
"Eleven's a lucky number, isn't it?"
"Ed... that's what you said three horses ago."
A stirring from behind him caught Edward's attention, and he whirled around out of habit, nearly losing balance in the process; he wasn't as quick on his feet as he used to be, and that cold, hard fact was something Ed didn't enjoy dwelling on. Even so, there was no denying that things had changed, and his fixated limbs weren't the only things that reminded him of his past yet restricted him from reliving them. He was here now, and he had Al. But there were so many things that he's given up in the process; so many things they'd given up.
His sharp eyes scanned the room before finally landing on the bed. It seems that Alphonse had caused the small sound by kicking off his sheets. Sighing a little, Edward made his way back towards the bed and tucked the small blankets more soundly around Al's body.
Then, he paused. Almost as if he were trapped inside a trance, Ed extended his real arm and rested his hands on Al's cheek, caressing the soft skin. It was Edward's ritual – wait every night until Al fell asleep, then reach out and trail his fingers along the other boy's cheek. It was a reassurance; a reminder that this was real and that it was truly Al's human form lying next to him. That their sacrifices had been worth it.
But tonight, as Ed's hands graced the side of Al's cheek, he felt the other boy move under him. "Mmmm... Ed?"
It soon became apparent that Al was no longer behind him. Instantly, he realized this, Edward stopped abruptly and spun around in search of his little brother. What he found, was a little boy sitting in the middle of the dirt road a few meters away.
"You'll be run over if you keep sitting there," Ed commented as he made his way back towards his little brother.
The seven-year old boy made a small sniffling sound but didn't reply. Knowingly, Edward's eyes traveled the length of the other boy's body, searching for scratches or cuts. It didn't take long to find the horrific gash on one of Al's knees; it didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, but it sure looked like it still stung. Edward gave a small sigh and turned his back to his brother.
"Climb on." Simple, cutting words, but still laced with affection and love. "I'll carry you home."
The trip home was made in utter silence.
"Shh... go back to sleep, Al." Edward tenderly brushed a stray strand of hair from Alphonse's eye.
"But..." Big, bright eyes looked back up at Ed, suddenly grasping the situation. "Edward!" Ed flinched involuntarily at the shrill exclamation. "You'll catch a cold! What are you doing up in the middle of the night?"
Smiling a little and without putting up a fight, Edward crawled back into the small bed. He felt the bed move under him as Al sidled up towards him, closing the thin space between them.
Alphonse never felt more substantial; Ed could feel Al's every breath against his skin. So warm. So real. They stayed like that for a while, lying next to each other, drinking in each other's presence. And then, slowly, sleepily, Ed brought his real hand up to cover Al's. "Hey, Al?"
"Mmm?"
"Stop hogging all the sheets."
He felt Al's body stiffen for a brief second out of surprise. Then, slowly, almost like a balloon deflating lazily, Edward felt the boy next to him relax. "I'm not hogging the sheets." Al moved his hand a little until they were palm-to-palm, and he gave Ed a small squeeze. "You've just grown too fat, Edward."
There were so many things left unsaid, Ed thought to himself as he gave Al's hand a sleepy squeeze. But it was alright; Alphonse knew.