I don't quite understand this story…Like I say, I don't write stories. The stories write themselves and I take all the credit.
Don't Fight
"My arm hurts."
Ed's declaration went unnoticed, or at least, unresponded to. He looked up from his drawing, vaguely annoyed that no one was acknowledging his pain.
"My arm hurts," he repeated, louder this time.
"Suck it up," Winry said doodling contentedly with a bright red crayon. Her face was pinched in concentration as she drew Den- or, more specifically, Den's automail. She had recently developed an interest in artificial limbs. ("She takes after her parents," Trisha would say. What did she take from her parents? Ed would wonder, although he never asked) "At least you have an arm. Den doesn't have one. She has automail." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "'Be grateful for what you have'. That's what mom always says."
"Stupid! Dogs don't ever have arms! They only have legs. Everyone knows that!" Ed rolled his eyes and held up his picture. "See? This is a dog. It doesn't have any arms!"
"That doesn't look like a dog," Winry commented. "It looks like a tree."
"It's a dog!"
"Big brother, why don't dogs have arms?" Al asked.
"Because," Ed began, still fuming. "They have four legs. They don't need arms."
"But how do you know that those are legs and not arms?" asked Al, poking Den's foot with a crayon. "How do you know that dogs don't have four arms and no legs?"
"Legs are for walking and running. Dogs can do that. Arms are for drawing and writing and hitting people," Ed stated simply. "Dogs can't do that."
"Hitting people isn't nice," said Winry. "Ed, you're mean."
"Shut up!" Ed shouted. He hit Winry.
"Ow! Ed, don't hit me!" Winry pouted, rubbing her forearm.
"No hitting!" Trisha called from the kitchen.
"Big brother, if you lost your arm, would you grow another leg to make up for it?" Al asked innocently. Ed glared at him.
"No, stupid! That would be dumb! Why would someone have three arms and one leg? That would look weird!"
Winry giggled. "You'd look mutated!"
"Like a chimera!" Al added. "Like a chimera in that alchemy book!"
Anger flared in Ed's eyes. "'Alchemy book?'" he repeated. "You mean my alchemy book? Why were you looking at that? It's MINE!"
"No it's not!" Al said defiantly. "It's dad's book!"
"Well, dad's gone! And since I'm the oldest, I get his stuff!"
"He's coming back."
Ed and Al looked up to see the interruption of their verbal battle. Trisha Elric, holding a plate of cookies and a sad expression.
"Don't fight," she said, kneeling down to look them in the eyes. "Fights turn into wars, and wars turn into death."
"What's death?" Winry asked.
"It's where someone leaves forever," Trisha answered simply. She placed the plate on the floor among the scattering of crayons and artwork.
"Like daddy?" Al asked.
"Sort of."
"Are you ever gonna leave?" Ed asked, staring up at his mother. She paused, the words lingering on her tongue for a moment longer than necessary.
"Of course not." She smiled.
"My arm still hurts."