A/N: Sorry.
It had been a surprise. A criminal they had apprehended resisted arrest. A day in the life of the military, right?
Wrong.
So wrong.
The man had shot to kill, and his target had been Edward Elric.
Al took the bullet for him. Being shot had never been a problem for the steel suit of armor, as the bullets always ricocheted off of the practically impenetrable shell.
It hit his armor, directly outside where his blood seal lay.
There had been a hairline fracture.
A tiny, near imperceptible crack had ended Alphonse Elric's life forever.
The man who fired the shot had been Ed's first kill, leaving his automail stained red with his sin and his heart left shattered, broken beyond repair because Alphonse, his little brother, his world, his purpose…
…was dead.
Gone.
Even weeks later, as he sat at the grave of his baby brother, (oh god, that name, carved into harsh, cold, unforgiving stone looked so wrong) he felt numb.
(Alphonse Elric, the gravestone said. Was it sure that that was the right name? Because surely, surely, Alphonse couldn't be dead)
Edward stared blankly at that stone, didn't shed a tear, didn't speak, didn't move, even when he felt a familiar presence settle beside him.
"Fullmetal," a deep, baritone voice called softly.
The man got no response.
"Edward," he tried once more.
Dulled, devastated gold finally met dark blue, near black hues, and they merely stared for a moment.
"Mustang." Edward said hoarsely.
"Hey, kid."
Silence.
Mustang spoke once again. "You can't sit out here forever, you know. You'll waste away. Come on." Roy beckoned him to stand up with one gloved hand.
Edward didn't budge.
"Al's dead," he whispered.
"I know."
"He's gone."
"I know."
"Why?"
It was such a childish question, nearly a plea coming from such a mature person (child, that's all he was) and Roy couldn't give a straight answer.
Death happened.
But Al didn't deserve it. Ed didn't deserve to have his brother taken away.
"I don't know." he responded quietly. "I don't know."
He lowered himself down to Ed's level and enveloped the small boy in a tight hug.
God knew that Roy Mustang wasn't a cuddly person. But he could make an exception.
"He's not coming back this time." Edward said, the words coming out in hushed tones.
"No, he's not."
Ed's breathing became heavier and erratic and Roy knew what was coming.
A sob broke through.
A tear fell.
And soon Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was a blubbering mess, gasping for breath between anguished cries as he clutched onto his superior's jacket.
"He's dead." he breathed out.
"I know."
"Gone."
"I know."
And that day, it rained.