Just a little one-shot for FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST DAY! I wrote this pretty quickly, but I think it's pretty good, all things considered. It's set on October 3, 1916, shortly after the end of Brotherhood.

Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Hazeljv does not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Period.

Ghosts of the Past: October 3, 1911

I stood in front of the long-burned foundations of the house Ed and I had grown up in. It had been five years ago to this day, when we had burnt down our home and vowed to never look back. Five years. How things had changed...

I knelt down in front of where the door way once stood and ran my fingertips over the blackened thresh-hold. I could see the house in my mind's eye as though it still stood, tall and proud upon the hill, protected by the large tree that stood beside it.

Dad's study: The windowless grey fortress of secrets. A dark place of dim lamp light and shadowy corners with smooth stone walls and a cold stone floor that felt hard and unfriendly under bare feet. The loose papers and pens that littered the surface of the old wooden desk, along with the stacks and shelves of books crowded by the desk that gave the room a cluttered appearance. The musty smell of old books, dust and knowledge that hung so heavily in the air one could almost taste the information on their tongue. A place where the only sounds where flipping pages, scratching pens, and quiet breathing. A place so silent you could almost hear the books murmuring their secrets to one another, waiting patiently -as only books can- to be read.

The Kitchen: Mom's favourite room before she fell ill, and the polar opposite to Dad's study. A bright, sun-lit room which always seemed to be radiating with warmth. The soft, worn-down hardwood floor, garnished with a few pastel rugs in front of the front door and the sink. The large table where Ed had refused to drink milk more times than anyone could count and light, translucent curtains that covered the window over the sink, which would billow in with the breeze on warm days. Where, on any given day, one could smell something delicious being made, and walk in to see Mom in all of her glory, beautiful and glowing with that happiness that never seemed to falter.

After she had died, we'd all but refused to step foot in there.

Those were the rooms I remembered most clearly... Well, there was one more...

Mom's room: The place where she had spent her last moments on earth. The bare, monotonous room that only grew colder and more unforgiving as Mom grew sicker and sicker. The room where death and decay seemed to hang in the air, choking and suffocating all who dared to enter. And after she died... The room that had haunted Ed and I as we tried desperately to bring her back to us.

I sighed, blinking hard as tears prickled my eyes.

We had just wanted to see her smile again.

I stood up, sweeping my gaze over the scarred ground.

We had done so much, sacrificed so much, to see her smile, hadn't we? Both when she was alive and after her death.

I tilted my head up to look at the blue, cloud-spotted sky, my gaze searching for something I knew I wouldn't see.

Was she smiling now? I had regained my body. Ed had gotten back his arm and was bound to get together with Winry soon enough. I had always thought they would end up together. I think Mom had, too.

Was that enough? Was she happy?

"She has to be happy... What more can we do to atone for our sins?" I whispered to myself, smiling ruefully.

October 3, 1911.

I thought back to the words Ed had etched into his pocket watch, into his memory: Don't forget 3/Oct/11. As if we had needed to be reminded of our decision. I would never... No, I could never forget October 3, 1911.

"Hey, Al!" I spun around at Ed's voice. He was walking up the dirt road beside Winry. Both wore amiable smiles, but I could see the memories that this place brought up shining in their eyes.

"Hey Brother. Hey Winry." I said, smiling and turning back to the ghost house. Ed and Winry stopped on either side of me.

"What're you doing here, Al?" Winry asked, blinking at me curiously. I shrugged my shoulders in a non-committal way.

"Just thinking." I turned to look at Ed, watching memories play before his eyes, like shadows across a wall. "Ed... Do you think we did the right thing?" I asked quietly. Ed paused at that, his gaze growing unfocused with thought.

What an arbitrary question. What did I even mean by that?

Did we do the right thing when we tried to bring her back? When you joined the military? When we burned down our home? When we turned our backs on the only traces left of Mom?

Whatever I meant, Ed seemed to understand. He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Yes." He said firmly, his expression somber. "We did."