"Water, thirty-five liters."
There was a sloshing sound as water flowed into a large metal container.
"Carbon, twenty kilograms."
"Ammonia, four liters."
"Lime, one-point-five kilograms."
Something bubbled as it was heated in a glass beaker.
"Phosphorus, eight hundred grams."
"Salt, two hundred and fifty grams."
"Saltpeter, one hundred grams."
"Sulfur, eighty grams."
Chalk swiped across a cobbled office floor.
"Fluorine, seven-point-five grams."
"Iron, five grams."
"Silicon, three grams."
Practiced fingers sketched out the last complicated rune.
"And trace amounts of fifteen other elements…"
The two brothers stood and surveyed their work in the cool air of their father's office.
"Niisan," the younger one said hesitantly, "you sure we should do this?"
"Of course!" snapped the older sibling. "We've come too far to wimp out now."
"Maybe…we should ask Dad…"
"Don't talk about that bastard," the older one spat. "He didn't care. He just left us one day. He didn't even come to Mom's funeral."
The two stood still. The memory of their father in his old brown coat, raising one hand in farewell while gripping his suitcase in another, was faint. But it was still there.
The younger one eyed the metal container with all of the contents of a human body in it nervously. Specifically the two splotches of red amongst the gray. "Do you really think that blood is equivalent exchange for her soul? That it's enough to bring her back?"
"This is our blood," the older one said, the knife still clenched in his fist. "From her blood. I think it's a pretty good trade."
The younger sibling sighed. Then smiled. "Well," he said, "we do look a lot like her. Like Mom. Maybe we have a lot of her blood in us."
"Nah. You look a lot like Mom," the older said, smirking. "You got her eyes. And her hair."
The younger brushed at his tousled blonde hair. "…I miss her."
"Yeah."
There was a heavy silence.
"Let's do this, Russell."
"Okay, Niisan."
The explosive light of alchemical energy filled the entire house. One ray beamed from one open window and glanced off of the stone edge of Winry Rockbell's grave.
A/N: To make it less cruel, this will never happen because Ed will never leave his children and his wife. Nevernevernever.