Author's Note: Here's Chapter 2 so that the story can progress a little. I hate short chapters, so sorry about Chapter 1. Hopefully this is better.


Chapter 2: Memory

Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin. –Barbara Kingsolver

Edward woke up late the next morning; his hair was all disarrayed from thrashing in his sleep. He held his head in his hands, a ghastly headache starting to form in his temples. It was the pounding kind, the one that pulses through your cranium and aches in the back of your eyes.

Edward cursed to himself, slowly getting out of bed. He noticed that Alphonse was still asleep. His face looked a bit pale and sweat glistened on it, but the room was cool and his covers were kicked off. Edward nervously made his way to his brother's side and felt his forehead. It was hot.

Edward crept quietly down the stairs and got himself a glass of water. He downed the whole thing in one gulp. It made his headache slightly better, but not by much. He sighed frustratingly and grabbed a rag from next to the sink. He ran it under cold water for a few seconds, and then rung it out. He slowly walked up the stairs again, each creak of the floorboards sounding like thunder to Ed's poor migraine. He finally reached the bedroom he shared with his younger sibling, and he reached his brother's bedside.

"Here you go, Al," he said to the sleeping figure, placing the wet rag on his forehead.

Edward was in the room, two hours later, when Alphonse finally woke up.

Alphonse groaned and shifted. His eyes slowly opened and scanned the room, finally resting on Edward's face.

"Nii-san?" he asked curiously.

"Mornin', Al."

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon, are you hungry?"

Alphonse nodded, "Very."

Edward smiled, "Well then come downstairs with me and I'll make you some scrambled eggs."

Alphonse looked nervous, "You're going to cook?

Edward raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, why?"

Alphonse nervously glanced to the side. "Well, I've just never seen you cook before, that's all."

"I've cooked! Remember when we were little and mom would let us make meals sometimes?"

"Nii-san that was years ago, and it wasn't cooking, we baked cookies and stuff. Plus mom supervised the whole thing. She would measure everything; all we did was pour the ingredients in and stir."

"But how hard can scrambled eggs be?"

Alphonse looked skeptic.

"If you don't like it, then you can make your own afterwards! But at least let me try!"

Alphonse sighed, "Fine, Nii-san."

Edward raised his fist in the air in triumph. "Yes!"

Alphonse sat up and groaned.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked.

"I feel like I was beaten in my sleep," Alphonse admitted, rubbing his sore back.

Edward's expression changed from his victory face to his worried face in a matter of seconds.

"So you are sick?" he asked, dreading the inevitable.

Alphonse slouched, "I guess… maybe a little."

Edward tuned in to full over-protective brother mode as he showered his little brother with worried questions over his well-being.

"I'm fine, Nii-san! It's just a little cold!" Alphonse coughed to add to Edward's already growing nervousness.

"Can you stand up?" he asked.

Alphonse rolled his eyes in pseudo-annoyance. "Of course I can."

He swung his feet over the bed and slowly stood up on his feet. He whimpered slightly but that was it.

"Are you feeling light-headed?" Edward asked. "Do you see stars?"

Alphonse turned to Edward, "Just a little light-headed."

Edward nodded. He walked beside Alphonse the whole way down the stairs, even if he was going so terribly slow. He wanted to make sure he wouldn't fall and hurt himself. Once Alphonse was situated in a chair, Edward finally turned his back on him and started preparing their "brunch" since it was already noontime.

"You know, you don't have to be standing over me the whole time I'm sick," Alphonse announced from behind Edward.

Ed turned around and gave a big smile. "Hey, then what is a big brother for?" he asked.

He set a small cup of a thick, sticky liquid in front of Al. It was purple and chunky and it smelled horrible. Alphonse made a face at it.

"Nii-san, what is this?" he asked, sliding his chair away from it.

"It's medicine," Edward said matter-of-factly. "It will help ease your symptoms."

"Why does it look so disgusting?" Al asked, pushing it away.

Edward shrugged and turned back to the eggs, "Probably because it is."

Alphonse stared at his brother. "You're expecting me to drink this?"

"Be a good boy, Al. You'll feel better afterwards."

Alphonse didn't listen and simply sat there.

"If that medicine isn't gone by the time I'm finished making breakfast, I'll make you take more!" Edward threatened, a smile dancing across his face. Of course Al couldn't see it, since he wasn't facing him.

"You can't do that!" Al cried.

"Try me," Ed suppressed a laugh.

"Then… then I'll make you drink milk!"

"Shut up! I'm not the one that's sick!" Ed waved the spatula at Al.

"And I'm not the one that's short!"

Edward twitched dangerously. Al suddenly became very aware of the knife sitting on the kitchen counter.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SMALL!" he yelled, flailing around. "WE'RE THE SAME HEIGHT!"

Alphonse sniggered. "But I'm fourteen, you're nineteen."

"Do you want me to give you burnt eggs?"

"Sorry, Nii-san," Alphonse apologized.

"Now drink your medicine!"

Alphonse did what he was told. The stuff was even grosser than it looked. It took Alphonse three tries to finally finish the disgusting liquid—if he could even call it that. Even so, the taste still lingered in his mouth and made him gag.

"Breakfast is ready!" Edward announced, placing scrambled eggs in front of him.

Before he even inspected it for good quality, Al choked down the whole thing to get rid of the horrid flavor in his mouth. Ed look amused as he watched.

"Wow, Al, I think you beat my record."

Alphonse panted as he finished, relieved to be rid of the medicine-taste. It wasn't until after the initial rush was over did he realize he had just eaten something his brother had made. Then he really started to worry over his well-being.

Edward finished his breakfast not too long afterwards, and he made Alphonse go straight back to bed.

"But Nii-san…"

"But nothing!" Edward declared. "You need to rest if you want this sickness to go away."

"But I'm fine," Alphonse muttered.

Edward ended up having to drag Alphonse to his room, the young teen being uncooperative. Usually Al was more than willing to do whatever his brother asked, but he just wanted to go outside and play. It was snowing out and he wanted to make snowmen and have snowball fights and play other fun games like that. Sitting in bed wasn't exactly the picture of an "ideal day" for him.

Edward watched him the rest of the day, bringing up food for him when he got hungry, supplying extra blankets when he got cold, and even giving up his own pillow when he got uncomfortable. Ed's food wasn't that appealing, but he refused to let Alphonse get up to make anything. The day flew by, and Alphonse had long before fallen asleep. Edward was sitting on his trusty stool, leaning against the head of Al's mattress. He was watching his little brother sleep, the way he breathed so slowly and how peaceful and innocent he looked...not that he didn't look innocent when he was awake. He wanted to make sure nothing would happen while his brother was asleep. He pitied Alphonse for having to stay in bed all day, but he refused to believe he was overreacting. His little brother was sick, so he had to take care of him. After witnessing his horrible coughing fit the day before, he couldn't get it out of his mind. Edward suddenly found himself dozing off as well.

Once again he found himself standing in front of the Gate. He looked around, the sight being all too horrifyingly familiar to him. When he looked behind him, he noticed the same mysterious figure sitting there on nothing. There was nothing here—just the Gate, Ed, and the Truth. It was simply…there.


"Why am I here?" he asked it, unsure if it was going to answer, but begging in his mind it would.

"I have a deal for you."

Edward stared at it, or through it, or wherever he was staring. Nowhere. Nothing really made sense here.

"What-What kind of deal?" he asked shakily. He hadn't meant to sound nervous.

"For your brother's life."