Well hey again! ((waves))

First off, THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed for the first chapter and the previous posting of the second chapter! I really appreciate and adore all of your wonderful comments. This rewrite (haha) is in your honor. I really hope it's worth it. ((crosses fingers))

Remember how I said I thought this chapter felt a bit incomplete? I let it sit for a bit and then pulled it back out last week. All I can say is holy crap, some of the things I missed! Thought my dad was going to kill me for all the times I printed the thing out so I could take it with me to work. But I can tell you now, after all those sessions, I think I caught my mistakes, fixed up the flow, and added a little to the story - I like it so much more! Feels so much more done. I'm ready to share it with you all - hope you like! I know I've already posted this chapter before, but even if you read the old one and you've got the time, please let me know what you think of the differences. I will love you forever!

Disclaimer: Edward and Alphonse Elric do not belong to me. I just happen to be very protective of them.

Warnings: Angst and brotherly love. A lot of pain, confession, listening, and comforting. (You have sooo been warned!)

Music Recommendations: Add Trading Yesterday's "Shattered" and "The Beauty and the Tragedy" to the list. Beautiful songs.

Feedback: Any questions, comments, opinions, insults, and threats are most welcome. (Just don't think I won't defend myself if needed!) Constructive criticism will be cherished!

PLEASE READ! (Or suffer the torment of my Balrog!) All right, I need to explain myself at this point before someone takes it the way I would rather they didn't. First off, I did not take this at all lightly. This was not written for either entertainment or pleasure purposes; everyone has their breaking point and no one is incapable of tears. This is a story of healing, a small exploration into Ed and Al's relationship, plain and simple as that. I do not support any yaoi or incestuous relationships. I understand that some people take it that way and it's their right, but to take this in the way of brotherly love (just being tied together in a very personal and emotional way) is mine and there is zero reason for that to be doubted.

Gomen-nasai for the rant, but it had to be done for the sake of my own sanity (or lack thereof ;D).

Thank you much, and I'll stop talking. You want to hear about Al, right? Well... here you go.

OoOoOoOoO

Al wouldn't look at him.

Ed leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, watching his little brother. Night had nearly fallen; Al lay on his right side, eyes transfixed unseeingly on the wall and all the empty space in between. For days he had hardly even changed position.

Gathering his confidence again, Ed reached forward slowly, his metal hand stretching for the limp fingers resting near Al's head. They were brightly colored with bruising, deep and painful; the result of Al's own defense from that night. Barely two feet away Al retracted his hand, pulling it underneath the covers, wincing as he did so. His head buried itself deeper into the pillows, away from open air with a sigh.

Ed sat back in defeat. He had already tried this method several times throughout the last few hours, but Al wouldn't let himself be touched. They had to physically restrain and drug him to tend to his wounds; redressing them was nearly as difficult. The memories haunted him, still too strong. Since that night, Al had barely moved, refused food, slept little, and hardly spoke. Any attempt to make it otherwise was met with silence, anger, and above all fear. He was afraid of everyone.

Ed wanted to help him, but he could not stand the thought of breaking him in the process. The attempts he had already made; even going as far as to gather Al into his arms in the rare times his brother slept the closest he had ever come to seeing Al nearly normal, and yet even those small windows of opportunity slamming shut when Al would waken and immediately pull from his embrace, choking as though he could not breathe.

And every time Ed had given in, found himself retreating before even considering other choices, unable to give Al further pain.

An ugly, grating voice pulled itself out from under the surface of his thoughts and taunted him while he sat there. "You can heal wounds to the body, but it is not possible to do the same for the soul. You think you can do the impossible? You are not a god and you are not him. I know how he will act... should he live. How can you help him when you don't know how he will react, when he won't listen to your words, and even fights your touch?"

Was he right... after all?

"Al..." Promises he had made, both to his brother and to himself found themselves broken, and they were tormenting his already overflowing heart in angry, accusing voices not so very different from his own. "Al, please..." He wasn't sure of what he was pleading for anymore.

Oh yes, some part of him still knew... a glimpse maybe. A chance.

Al shifted, the motion accompanied with a groan. He was hurting so badly, several of his wounds were not healing well. Unable to stand the touch of clothing, his only protection was the sheets, and those alone made him wary of anyone who came too close, all too conscious of his vulnerability.

His open eyes were dim. There was no fire, no life, rimmed in red but he did not cry. He couldn't.

Al could not ignore Ed speaking every time; even in this state there were brief moments when he almost seemed himself again. His eyes shifted to the form of his brother next to him, half wishing these moments of sanity would remain still. "Don't touch me... please..."

The same words he had spoken so many times. Their eyes locked in a rare display of attention; Al looked as though he wanted to say more but could not force his tongue to form the words. Ed could make out so many emotions in Al's dark eyes; of pain, of fear, of uncertainty, of powerlessness, even of self hatred. After just a few seconds, Al looked away, the pretenses of his former self fading. Again.

Ed sighed in frustration, and stood from his chair. He was done with this; seeing cold eyes laughing at him in the form of Al's fear. He couldn't stand to see such pain. He knew Al wasn't afraid of him as he was but of his touch, combined with the effects of such vivid memories. All actions considered, everything he tried up to this had ended in ruin... there was only one thing left he could do, one he had somehow already known he would have to try in the end. Edward walked over to the door and locked it.

Ghostly eyes did not follow him.

Al shifted uneasily when a sound touched his ears, of cloth being drawn away from skin; speaking in a weak, slow voice, "Brother... brother, what are you-"

Ed set down his jacket, folding it carefully. His movements were slow and full of thought. He didn't look at Al, refusing to even glance, fearing he would break if he saw the fear directed at him again. "I promised I would help you. I promised and I will not break another..." he slid his shirt over his head; heart tearing a little more as he heard his little brother whimper; his actions accurately guessed. The spirit of the room transformed from unease to thick, consuming fear.

"Brother, no... please..."

That faint, pitiful plea nearly made Ed stop, made him yearn for another way... but he didn't know another way. He could see those lifeless eyes from that night and they haunted him... he looked at them now and they still lacked their luster. Somehow, there had to be a way to find it again, even if it meant hurting them both. Though his heart bid him otherwise, he ignored the pleas and continued to shed his clothing, down to his own bare skin.

Life could not have been crueler, that he would have to nearly reenact the circumstances of that night in order to gain back what was lost. He would have to be cruel in order to be kind, re-teaching lessons his brother never should have had stripped away from him – that there were some people he did not need ever fear.

Ed hesitated, considering one last time his actions. Once he began he knew he had to see it through to the end, no matter how long it took or how difficult it became. The only comfort he garnered from his intended actions was what set him apart from the man that had brutally molested his little brother. Ed's head dropped. That was the last thing he wanted Al to think of him, he himself disgusted by the very thought of it and anything like it. Ed could still remember clearly what Al's first reaction had been to him after that night had ended. One hand passed over his eyes. That reaction had nearly killed him.

Ed jumped up when he heard Al scream.

It was of no use, they had locked the door and barricaded it sufficiently from the inside so he could no longer force his way through. Balling a fist, Ed punched the wall angrily. His rage drained into the strike and the wood shattered, leaving a large dent in its wake.

He couldn't do anything. Those doctors had forced him to stay out.

Barely a minute later he heard Al cry out again and nearly broke at the sound. Instead of again rushing at the door to beat the living crap out of whoever was hurting his little brother, Ed felt his body weaken and slump against the wall. His shoulder and forehead pressed into the wood, his left arm wrapped around his ribs while his right hand found a place against the left side of his neck. And he waited.

Al screamed again, the cry followed with bitter pleas. Even muffled through the wall Ed could still make out his brother's voice; his angry, frightened words. Ed's right hand tightened. He couldn't comfort or help... scared to death Al would die from the pain without him there.

"... Al..."

Time blended. Ed didn't notice anything that happened around him, his every thought trained elsewhere, anywhere but the room he was in. He didn't talk, didn't move; saw nothing, did nothing. Later, he wouldn't remember if anyone had been in the room with him, or how much time had passed. He wasn't trapped in his own living room, he was in the other room with Al, watching every painful thrash of oxygen-deprived limbs and hearing every choked cry as the two doctors worked relentlessly to clean and bandage wounds, reset broken bones, and slowly wash the blood away.

Al would have to be confined to bed for several days. It would be weeks, even months before he would have full use of his leg again, and only because they had gotten to the wound before infection set in. The rain had kept the gash more or less clean, and in all likelihood, probably saved his life. His ribs would require at least a month, most of his injuries within the same timeframe. There were concerns about his immune system, about his breathing, and whether or not he would be able to walk without a limp. Those, only time would tell.

But no one could say anything about the state of Al's mind.

Every sound Al made, however small, bore their ways into Ed's mind and tormented him, so drastically that soon Ed found himself sliding down to kneel on the floor while still pressed against the wall, wincing painfully like they were his cries, his lips even parting in hard grimaces, but never once made a sound.

When the two doctors emerged from that room nearly three hours later, disheveled and worn out, and told him Al was stable, they barely had the words out of their mouths before Edward was back on his feet and long past them in a single bound. They never got the chance to warn him in time...

"Al? Hey, Al..." Ed knelt by the bedside, taking a moment to study his little brother. Al looked a lot better than he had just hours before, blood and rain cleansed from his body and nearly all his wounds hidden beneath clean bandaging. He was sleeping it seemed, half-curled on his right side.

But when Ed, full of overwhelming concern, reached forward and laid a hand on Al's head to gauge for himself the current situation, he got a reaction he had never once anticipated.

Al's eyes snapped open a split second before his hand settled, leaving Ed to believe his little brother had not been sleeping at all. Al flinched from his fingers like he had been burned by them, his breath snagging in his throat when he gazed up at his brother; his normally calm, expressive eyes nearly wild. Al was looking at Ed in a way he never had before; full of unrecognizing, terrible panic.

"Get away from me," Al hissed in a voice that didn't belong to him, eyes widening. "Don't touch me!"

Ed pulled his hand back, studying his fingers before looking back at Al, his own eyes full of confusion and hurt.

"Al?" Ed knew his voice had gone a notch higher than what he would have liked, but could not help it. "Al? It's me..."

Al trembled; tried to burrow deeper beneath the sheets to drown out the sound of his voice. "Just leave me alone..."

Ed's hand dropped to his side. "Al?..." He didn't understand. Why was Al so afraid of him? He had never been afraid of him before. There had been times when they had gotten into angry fist fights years ago and Al had been jumpy around him afterwards, but never, ever like this. Not this clenching, blind terror. He had never seen such fear in Al's eyes. Like Al expected him to rise up and attack him. Wait... attack him?

"Al? It's me-... Don't you... Don't you recognize me?"

Al's eyes weren't focused at all; though he was looking in Ed's direction he wasn't seeing his brother. He was looking right through him, to another face; remembering another voice.

Unable to stand the connection any longer, Al turned his head into his pillow, still murmuring softly, "Don't..."

And Ed couldn't. He backed up a few paces and stumbled to the floor in a painful daze.

Al...?

Ed shook his head fiercely. Al had been scared to death of him then. Though time together over the past few days had improved it, it had not been nearly enough. Somehow he had to help Al, really help him remember that his touch would never harm, and through it heal the open wounds in his brother's soul.

Al was already on the verge of tears, cringing underneath his covers. He shook from the fear, the cold, and the pain; he could hardly stand being in such agony. It may have been good that he was still so weak, 'else Ed would have had a problem keeping him where he lay. One of his hands weakly clutched at the sheets, trying to hold them down like they were the only shield he had left... a shield that was slowly killing him.

Al had always hated being coddled but he wanted to trust, he wanted to be held again. Though he no longer looked at his older brother in the same fear as that first night, he still couldn't stand his touch, sometimes not even his voice. How could he when every touch, every soft word drastically warped within his mind and took him back? It chilled him deeper than the bone. He shied away, full of dreadful fear when the covers shifted lightly, easily pulled from his grasp... and zinged up to immeasurable proportions when he felt Ed lay down next to him.

Al stopped breathing; replaced it with airless, hitched sobbing and a terrifying cold sweat.

"No Al, breathe... don't quit on me now, come on, breathe... can you feel me breathing Al? Just breathe, breathe with me..." Ed pulled close to his little brother, drawing up Al's face to press against his own. Ed let his own breath play gently against his brother's lips, encouraging similar action. Before, he had backed off at this point when Al reacted so fearfully, but this time he did not. He couldn't. Forced to hurt Al in order to help him, and oh how the very thought was painful in and of itself. Al tightly shut his eyes, refusing to look into the golden ones centimeters away; gulping, choking on some invisible force caught in his throat. His left hand wrapped around Ed's right, trying to stop him. He wanted to hit his brother, shove him away but couldn't; found his arms pulsing with adrenaline yet frozen in place.

Ed put himself entirely at the mercy of Al. He would only heal; he would not punish. Even if Al decided to hurt him in any way Ed would let him, and if he was forced to endure a strike that would end his life, then so be it.

Somehow Al knew this, could sense it in the warmth of the hands he knew and in his young heart still trusted, and as quickly as the urge had come his grip failed, slackening yet never completely letting go. Hard as his sense of self protection wanted him to fight, he couldn't find it in himself to harm his brother.

"Al, open your eyes... look at me, it's all right." Ed whispered desperately, his voice cracking when he felt stray tears fall against his nose... Al's tears. "I'm the one holding you. Remember Al, like when we were kids... when you would come to me after a nightmare or during a storm... you know me, you know my touch, you know I would never hurt you. Open your eyes Alphonse, remember who's holding you. Please."

Al's jaw shook violently, several more tears marking new paths down his face. After a few moments a shallow, shaky breath passed through; Ed could feel it force weakly through his own. As Al took in a new breath, unsteady and weary, his eyes opened slowly, locking with Ed's. His own were full of barely restrained tears, growing red under the strain, full of pain and longing and memory. He couldn't let go of his older brother's wrist now. He exhaled, coming out as the sob it really was.

Their roles reversed and it was Al who would have taken the beating; one part of him actually hoping Ed would end this suffering for him, while another wishing, wanting his brother to save him.

"That's it Alphonse, just breathe... you're safe, all you have to do now is breathe... breathe with me now, just breathe with me..." Ed whispered those slowly grounding words and several more, taking away the chance for silence to reign. He drew the sheets back up around his brother and himself, over both their heads to shield them completely from any outsider's view. His steel hand, comfortably warm in this room thanks to the stove in the corner, found a place against Al's left cheek. At first Al withdrew from the touch and balked at the filtered darkness, but at a few words from Ed, he stilled again.

For a while Ed left his hand there and just whispered to him, letting the words he spoke wrap around Al like a protective embrace. For a long time, all Al could do was limply force himself to endure the touch, wavering through Ed's hands and voice; his own catching, choking constantly against his will. Fear had the agility of a viper against his heart and it wasn't letting him go easily.

But slowly, gradually, as time passed patience and need began to slowly strip the beast of its powerful hold. Al began to relax, his unnaturally tense body wearying, unclenching with every minute they lay together. He was too hurt, far too weak to give much effort into resisting for long. In place of the tight, encompassing pain came a deep, aching soreness that in the enduring seemed to sap what little strength he had and yet amplify his senses tenfold.

"Brother?..." Ed could see the growing discomfort even in the limited light under the sheets as it spread over Al's face and began to cloak his limbs. Yet even as it pained him so to see it, Ed began to understand, at least in part, what compassion Al needed from him.

When he let his right hand travel down Al's neck to his shoulder, nearly all the progress he had made evaporated. Terror seized Al again; his breathing speed up, the tears returned in full force, and he somehow managed to shift back in the attempt to get away. The action earned him more pain than the sense of safety he desired. Ed stopped him quickly, resting the back of his left hand where his right had been, his flesh warming the pale cheek below it, ever whispering, "Remember it's me, it's me Al... it's just me. I won't hurt you. Please Al, let me help you." He began to roll Al's shoulder with his metal hand, shifting the muscle and bone in its rotational circle. Al gave in, his eyes drifting shut, unable to keep eye contact. He sniffed, his breath coming stiffly through hitched sobs. This was the wrong time for him to even attempt to pretend he was in control. Submissively, his mind let Ed take over though his body was far less compliant, the remembrance far deeper than skin.

Ed worked at this process for a long time; after Al's shoulder he let his hand travel down his brother's arm, taking hold of his lax hand, carefully stretching the fingers apart and laying them flat on the mattress, his fingertips rolling over them in small circles. From there, Ed had no real set design. His hand slowly worked its way around Al's body, from his chest to his stomach, his side to his back, to his neck and over again. His hand moved in patterns, circles, waves, brushing lightly over bandages and broken ribs but taking special care of any exposed skin, pressing deep enough for Al to clearly feel him and carefully work the muscles that ached so. His hand missed nothing; no bruising, no scar, no wound escaped his attention. In any area Al would hiss in the torture of memory and call out in a plea for release, Ed would stay there a while longer, tenderly helping Al to remember the touch he should. All the while Ed spoke to Al, talking, murmuring words of gentle assurance and reminders of his own love. Every moment, every breath, every tear brought him closer, brought Al farther away from the brink. All through the night he lay awake, helping Al heal.

At one point Ed lifted Al's arm up and forward, the bruised hand finding a resting place against his jaw. He could feel near feverish heat through the fingers, could feel the rigidness and uneasy twitches against his skin. Ed did not pay attention to it, his hand traveling back up Al's arm to resume his unending cycle. As more time passed, the hand resting against him began to ease up, loosening slowly until they stiffened no more.

For hours Ed dedicated himself to this, fueled only by the desire to see Al whole again. His automail arm, though connected to him through every nerve in his shoulder could not feel the touch of fatigue, and did not falter. He could sense it was slowly beginning to work. Ed began to notice small changes in Al's demeanor; little things whenever he would hesitate or slow his hand to a stop for even a moment - Al would whimper against it, some part of him not wanting the comfort to stop.

Al did not let his gaze waver from Ed's, as though the connection were his only link to any control, wonder beginning to replace the destructive fear. How could he have ever wanted to harm his brother? When had he started trusting the fear more? Maddening. His true soul, again finding a voice in his reasoning, would have never accepted such a thing. Al forced it out, shoved that feeling away. He could do without it. He didn't want it to come back, but he was still afraid it would remain in him as the weakness that it was... but then, maybe Ed could help with that.

"Brother?" Al's voice, tentative and guarded, full of tears and agony, broke through the long kept silence some time in the early morning, long before dawn would even start to paint the sky.

"Hmm?"

"About that night, when I was walking home... can I tell you-... what happened?"

Ed stopped moving his hand, rising up only a moment to give his brother a soft kiss on his temple. "I'll listen to anything you need to say."

Al shuddered deeper into the mattress, but did not back away. And that feeling did not return.

And so began the story, the secret full of such suffering and nigh unbearable fear. He could barely tell Ed what had actually transpired, all too often his voice catching against his tongue. But somehow he made it through, unable to hold it inside any longer, unable to endure the terrifying memory alone. Al began to tell him of that night and his unexpected capture; of the fight, the helplessness, the screaming, and the pain. The desperation of how he had fought back even though he knew he had been overpowered; the wounds he had received and how they had come to be admitted to one by one. How even time had seemed to be against him, blending into one long, awful grey twilight as they beat and kicked him, yelled and hurt him. But most of all... Al told Ed of what he had felt, what he had been left with to feel. Broken, scarred, and filthy. Abused and without a hope of being redeemed from what had been done to him. Even now, days later, the intensity of them all had only grown in strength, unable to be cured through simple means. His hope was nearly gone, galvanized by the viper of fear, and it was killing him as surely as any deadly wound ever would.

Ed said nothing through it all, his only true reaction in his smoldering eyes and the rage that filled them. His anger and his vengeance had already flared and the need to avenge paid; all that was left was the result... and the hurt. He could not believe how badly he wanted to take all of it away... erase all the traces until there was nothing left.

Al couldn't bear that look in his eyes, couldn't bear the thought of causing his older brother more self-condemning grief.

He looked down between himself and his brother, his gaze resting on their feet for a time. At some point during the night they had overlapped, Ed's right foot resting between both of his. His own left foot had been wrapped; he had somehow broken three bones. Al's eyes traveled up his own body, seeing clearly for the first time the extent of his injuries – something he had avoided with great caution until now. His legs were scratched and red, bruised and aching. His right thigh had been carefully bandaged from that heavy knife wound, the visible white cloth dotted with blood; the wide gash still not yet completely closed and would not be for a while longer. His gaze stopped at his own hip; transfixed with horror on the deep purple bruising that spread like a stain below it... he jerked his eyes away.

He remembered all too clearly... seeing that bruise and it thrust him back into the night and the rain... back in that alley... his clothing torn through and he was covered in blood... so hurt and defenseless... that man's horrid touch, the one around his wrists and still the other against his body... Edward... he could still feel it, that sick feeling grinding past the surface of his skin, deeper and more painful as the moments passed... oh, the blood - it was everywhere; Al wrung his hands together, writhing, trying to rid himself of everything, every awful, ugly action and feeling from his mind... brother, get him off! Get it off of me! Take it away! Please!

Al was rapidly close to hyperventilating; in immediate response Ed took his brother's face in his hands and held him close, "Al, listen to me, you have to calm down! Calm down... easy, easy, easy, brother, easy..."

At the sound of his voice Al burst into fresh tears; breathless, pain-filled sobbing that wreaked havoc on his battered body, but somehow ignored it completely and reached out to his true shield, his only protector. "Brother... brother help me! Oh please... p-please Bro-brother, ple-please-"

Ed's own eyes closed, then opened again, but still his voice was calm and even, hand just as steady, thumb gently stroking the length of Al's cheekbone. "I'm the only one here with you... easy...It's only me..."

Al shook fiercely, gasping. "Brother, I'm s-scared... they still have me..."

"Shhhh... they're gone and you're safe, you're safe here with me... slow down-"

"-Scared... brother, please... I r-remember... still won't go-o away-"

"It's okay, it's okay to be scared, but I've got you, and you're still safe... you're safe... shhh..."

"Brother, I can't, I can't b-breathe anymore..."

"Yes you can. Here," Ed took hold of one of the sheets and separated it from the other, wrapping it around Al's beaten body to hide the wounds from his view. Adjusting the remaining sheet over them both, he shifted close enough for Al to feel his chest against his own, could feel it expand when Ed took in new breath; retract when he let it out. "You can feel me breathing. Just focus on me, block everything else out... come on Al, I know you can do this... you're stronger than they are..."

Al's own chest shook with bitter, painful sobs as he tried to do as he was told. In came one short, wheezy breath, out it came the same way. It was rushed, forced, hardly better than before.

"Slowly now... slow and deep..." Ed kept talking, his fingers rolling against Al's cheek in rhythm with his own breathing, deep and wide, working to make them flow as one. "Steady... in and out... it's all right to be scared, but you don't have to be afraid anymore, please don't be... I'm here Al, I'm here... just breathe... breathe..."

In and out, in and out... breathe... block out everything else and just breathe...

Moments stretched into minutes and in gradual ease Al's breathing did slow, his breath evened out; he shut his eyes, allowing Ed's own breathing to ghost faintly against his face and worked only to match his own with it.

"That's it little brother, that's it, just breathe... easy, I'm here," Ed pressed his forehead against Al's, balancing his own against his brother's. "I'm here with you, I won't leave... easy... breathe..."

Ed's touch was so soothing, his voice so soft, Al couldn't help but be calmed as it wrapped around him and cut away those vicious voices. When his breathing was within comfortable boundaries again, he sunk into the pillow; his lips parted in a slow, choking sigh. The last of his strength slipped beyond his reach, the final traces stolen by his unseen foe... and yet even in its absence, a small beacon of light reignited itself somewhere in his eyes.

Al felt like he was being brought back to something he had lost, something so treasured and familiar, and began to follow its call as he would a lighthouse in the middle of a storming black sea. Above all else he had hated the lingering control he felt still over him, as if those men still had some power over his thoughts and actions, over his very heart. When his body finally stopped moving, there was nothing left of him, no barrier of fear or anger, no wall of distrust or pain, nothing... nothing but the reality of his own torn soul in its purest form. He couldn't fight, couldn't talk, couldn't do anything but softly sob; release the hellish pain that threatened to continue slashing into him until there was nothing left. Like a fresh breath of life, he found himself in control.

His eyes opened and he reached out for Ed, the back of his hand brushing over his brother's shoulder. It was the first time in days he had made any attempt to touch his brother on his own. He could sense every grasping emotion that had been holding him back breaking away, unshackling his heart and slowly allowing him to respond to Ed's still constant gentle treatment; the wish to pull closer, to eliminate any distance between them until he was nestled in his older brother's arms unlocked itself from his heart.

The message in his eyes was clear; he wanted to be held. He wanted to fight his lying mind, fight the control that should never have been placed over him. He would rather die then go back to the destroying black he had come to know and hate so much.

Ed's left hand slipped underneath his little brother's head and wrapped around his shoulders, while his right began to trace a path over Al's face; lightly, over his forehead, around his eyes, down his cheek, over his lips, and back up over his nose to begin again. Al let him, his eyes drifting halfway shut under the attention, no longer pulling away. More than once Ed took a moment to wipe his face dry of feverish sweat and warm tears, the support endured without comment or complaint. Their heads stayed together, foreheads touching; if Al lapsed back into another rise of fear all he would have to do was open his eyes and know who was touching him. Every time he did so, all he could see was Ed's; liquid gold full of soft compassion and protective warmth. At times his gaze was obscured by Ed's hand as it continued along its own ceaseless path over his face, crossing in front of his own grey eyes. But Ed was always there, never looking away, hanging on to him whether or not he wanted him to. And as their time together matured, the uncertainty of before came less and less often.

Al felt like the broken pieces of his heart were finally finding ways to repair themselves. His brother's warmth surrounded his injured body beneath the sheets, wrapping him up in both comfortable touch and smell, no clothing between them to hinder the gentle, careful contact. It felt so good to be held like this, protected by someone so strong and warm; accepted so completely even in the midst of his world of black. The chilling ache found itself diminishing, replaced by life far more real; touching on an even deeper need he had not known he had buried in the depths of his heart until he found it being filled now, untainted and pure.

Years. It had been years since Ed had been close enough to touch... close enough, Al suddenly realized, that he could both sense his older brother's presence and feel it; really feel it.

Memories he had barely regained of his time in the armor somehow made their way to the surface of his thoughts, bringing back to life so many things that had until just recently been stolen from him. Before, he had hesitated sorting through them too deeply, uncertain of the things he might remember. But he could not stop them now. Among the many things they had seen and done together; every wonderful, twisted thing that had happened to them and what the recollections had left behind... now Al could only really think of how he had been starved of his brother, of his touch, his warmth, his smell, more recently even his voice; unable to acquire any comfort beyond words like this for so long. Those memories, made up of hope and trust, pain and betrayal, anger and death, wounds left to fester, burn, and scar now only amplified his need to be held. There had been days, terrible ones, when Ed had seemed as unreal and intangible as Al had been, days when they had become each other's greatest weakness, even though he had known it wasn't true. It couldn't be. Al shook his head and sniffed. Irony was nipping at him, his heart badly needing to be reassured.

Part of him felt like such a child for needing to be held the way he did, but almost immediately rejected the feeling; rather forcing himself to take the time to dig past the layers of pain, and the walls of confusion to reach the very heart and source of all this torment, to the very beginning of their journey and beyond. Minutes gave way to hours, layer gave way to a deeper layer, and as time aged his older brother was helping him heal far more than just fear.

If there had been times when one brother had been the other's greatest weakness, this was surely a time when one brother was the other's greatest strength.

Al let his hand wrap around his brother's metal one, silently stopping him. Ed could not truly feel how tight Al had grasped his fingers, but he could easily sense the light grinding of his steel fingers against each other and see how his little brother's knuckles whitened with sudden strength, as though he were afraid to let it go.

Al's eyes were quivering in the effort to not completely snap again, full of so many questions and still unresolved hurt. His hand shook as he held those fingers, shifting them around and unsteadily trying to match them against his own before stopping in sudden frustration. It was like he didn't have any control anymore, worn down to the place where he couldn't do anything but feel. Ed shook his head, sensing the struggle still caught behind those dark eyes. As long as it took, he would not question.

"I'm still here brother, I'm still here..." Ed reminded as he lifted his little brother's head softly and let Al lean heavily onto his jaw, and with a tenderness many people believed he was not capable held Al full and close, like a child in his arms.

Al let his head settle against his brother's, able to feel the warmth and flesh and life of Ed's being and trembled from the knowledge. That familiar smell that was Ed's own, of rosewood shot through with fire as he remembered, unchanged in all these years. Nostalgia swept over him in a true, tangible ache, coupling itself with the pain of a much more recent past. He'd missed his brother... Al sniffed, trying to fight that painful, over-sized lump in his throat back... so much.

Before these last several days, Al could remember wanting to burst from the uncertainty and the fear at the prospect of never finding his older brother again, but now it was all the more intense. Suddenly reunited after two years of complete separation, with another near five of lost adversity and sacrifice newly restored to his mind – the spirals of their lives together doubling and re-shaping the previous longing for his older brother's strength and shelter, the need to repay the debt left behind; casting it on him all at once... and it had not been until now that they had been at all open about how much this loss had crippled them both? Al didn't know if he would have ever brought it up had this not happened. He wasn't even sure how they had managed to take everything in stride as well as they had, and yet still, neither of them had healed from any of it. Is this what it took so they could both even start to really heal from... everything? Oh, the irony of that thought... Al's eyes slowly closed, weary beyond even his own understanding. He wasn't sure. He doubted he ever would be.

"I'm such a c-coward," Al confessed suddenly, softly, his arms crossing tightly in front of his chest. He just wanted to speak now, release so many words in the form of few and be understood. "They destroyed me... I couldn't stop them... they just wouldn't s-stop..." he shivered, his body momentarily forgetting the warmth.

"No..." Ed's arms tightened in sudden pain; turned his face upward, lips softly brushing gentle, pure kisses against the side of his little brother's head. Al gasped thickly, fighting weakly when Ed did not immediately stop, remembering all too well similar actions but with so much more ugly ruthlessness. But Ed didn't let him go, his own eyes shutting in grief as he held Al to himself, his lips pressing lightly and repeatedly against Al's hair and cheek. "You don't need to be afraid of me Al..." he whispered, guided it seemed by instinct and heart alone. "Just trust me... please trust me... don't be afraid..."

Ed didn't stop until Al quit resisting; when he began to realize the difference he was astounded... though constant, they were not hard and overpowering, full of demanding and malicious sin. They were soft and affectionate. They were grounding, a pleasant relief, pure in intention, uncorrupt... and eventually, another lesson re-taught. Before long Al found himself leaning into them, his trembling body beginning to steady, allowing himself to be comforted so. He took them as they were meant; brotherly, full of healing, wrapped in safety.

"No, Al... they hurt you but they didn't kill you, they couldn't take you away from me... you will heal, and I'll be here, I'll help you... shh, it's over now..."

Al froze, as though realizing something for the first time. "You... you saw that?" he choked out, not needing to clarify what 'that' was.

Ed seemed to shrink a little, but did not back away. "Yes." He answered, his voice lined with an all too familiar ache.

Al sniffed, cringing in bated breath. "And you don't hate me?"

Ed's face contorted at the implication, even though Al couldn't see it. "Why would you-? I would never... hate you Al. Ever."

Al sighed brokenly into his shoulder. He had been afraid... "I thought you would hate me... for this-"

"Don't even call it that; this is not your burden. You didn't ask for it, and you don't want it." Ed leaned into the head resting against his own, whispering desperately in his ear, his voice heavy but strong. "Do you hear me Alphonse? This isn't your fault! Even when they had you, you were fighting... and you're still fighting them now. This isn't you brother... it was them; it was whatever hard, cold sickness in them that is at fault. It's not you." His arms tightened a moment in confident assurance.

What had he been afraid of? For some reason, Al couldn't remember.

Greatest weakness... greatest strength.

Al sunk into the depths of that embrace. It would take time for him to really believe it, to really take it in, but the trust he had in Ed was enough to calm his troubled heart for now. He sighed, the sound reverberating from deep within his chest; his brother's embrace so tender and whole it threatened to break his heart again. Never before in his life had he felt so safe, not even in the memories of his mother. How many times during that forsaken night in the rain had he wished for Ed, plead to the darkness for his presence, cried out against their hands for his protection? Why he had refused it at first only his body understood. And yet here he was, gifted with it all. Undeserving fool he was, to push away and then cling tight after worth had been needlessly proven. Al was no longer weeping just for himself.

"Brother... I thought I was going to d-die... all I could think about was you..."

Ed held on to Al with a desperation only they would understand, knowing their fears had been the same, his metal hand reaching up to brush away the fresh tears. Al had barely ceased weeping the whole night, trying and failing many times to stop, amazed that Ed had not said a word about it when he ordinarily would have.

"I never should have let you walk alone... I'm sorry Al, I'm so sorry this happened to you..."

The thought of Al losing something so precious and dear bruised Ed to the core. How dare they do such a vile, disgraceful thing like Al had deserved it! But all that came nowhere close to the anger he directed at himself, that he hadn't been there to help... that perhaps had they gone together they could have evaded the two men that had attacked Al, even avoided it all together... he didn't know what his presence could have changed. Anything, he wished, that would have met a different outcome, a happier ending... anything but what had become harsh reality.

"It's not your fault brother. It's not..." Al whispered, sensing Ed's self-condemnation and immediately refused its presence; in response he burrowed his head into the warmth of his brother's neck and shoulder, wincing as he did so when his ribs protested. "I'm just glad you're with me now... I just-... I really need you with me..." he choked on the words, the lump of emotion still with him and ready to burst open anew. "Brother?..."

"Shhh... it's all right baby, I'm here, I'm-... I'm here..."

Al heard him say that name... and immediately knew Ed was trying hard not to cry. Ed had only used it once ever before, on the night after their mom's funeral. Unable to sleep when they had finally returned home, Al remembered escaping to the security of his older brother's side not long after dark. Ed had wrapped one small arm around his shoulders and held him close for a long time, saying very little but among his whispered reassurances Ed had called him that special name without even thinking about it. Al remembered lifting his eyes in response and seeing such a pleading, helpless look on his brother's face; one Al was sure Ed had right then. And oddly enough, Al hadn't minded being called that name on that night so long ago, even if it had been their mom's name for them both on occasion... just like he didn't mind now. It wasn't degrading, the way Ed chose to say it. It was warm, carrying an almost lethargic effect, used in such a soothing way.

And with it being said, gone was any desire Al had to ask Ed why he was trying so hard to heal his broken heart... he already knew.

There was no one else alive on either side of the Gate that Al would allow to do what his brother had done for him. No one else he would have allowed to take care of him and guard him like Ed. His older brother had given his arm, his life, everything... just to keep his ties to this waking world alive. While in the suit of armor Ed had been the only one capable of fusing his metal body back together after the times it shattered in battle; that link between them seemed to have stayed behind, just as strong, even with the armor long gone.

It was trust... seemed so fragile to the touch, yet strong and bright in Al's voice every time he spoke now. Such complete, irreplaceable trust. It was a gift Ed was sure he did not deserve. He let his hand slide down over Al's ribs, and this time the only reaction was a slight tremor of gooseflesh. No painful gasp, no tensing up, no flinching. The fear... it was finally gone, paid for in the price of his patience and his love. Ed felt his eyes moisten, not entirely against his will.

... Al?

Al felt his brother shiver as though he were cold. A gusty sigh left Ed slowly, emptying his lungs until he had nothing left. It took him several moments to attempt drawing in new breath, knowing it would only fuel what he would rather not do, yet at the same time found he really did not care at all.

Something slid against Al's cheek; he shifted slightly in surprise. "Brother... brother, why are you crying?"

Ed didn't respond, hadn't even realized he had actually mustered up the energy to cry until Al asked him. And he was, softly. Sobbing that had begun to slowly shake his body, shake the one he held so close. His face turned down into the mattress, barely breathing. It was all the confirmation Al needed. Where Ed had sometimes struggled reading his brother's emotions, Al had always been able to read him like an open book.

"Brother, no..." Without thinking, arms that had long since been pressed into Ed's chest moved out of the sheet they had been enfolded in, clumsily wrapping around him, clasping together behind his back, holding him close. When Ed did not immediately react Al turned his face into his older brother's neck with gritted teeth and a clenching heart, trying to draw him back up. Ed never cried... not anymore. "Don't cry for me..."

"You can't ask me that," Ed whispered; his voice raw, honest. "I can't stop, you can't ask me... You're my little brother. You... are all the family I have. You're mine, Al, my hope and I need you... and you were hurt... I didn't protect you, I wanted to kill that man but I couldn't... I shouldn't even be able to hold you-" but even as he said it, he could not let go.

"But you're still here," Al cut him off, his voice shaky but uncharacteristically forceful, his tongue loosening even more. "Because you don't want to leave. I don't want you to go. You didn't hurt me; you were the one who saved me brother. You can't always be there, it was my own fault. I don't know why you think you keep failing... the world failed... not you. You're just doing the best you know how... you did everything you could do... you did more than I could have wished for. And I am glad... you did not kill that man-" the last of his words cut short, memory emphasizing what words could not.

Ed dug his nose into Al's loose hair, his eyes clenching shut as he fingered the thin, silky softness. This was the Al he remembered; the selfless, caring person he had always been. Tears slipped down his face, some landing on Al's head, darkening the already deep brown color of his hair a thicker shade. Al had let him in and allowed him to help carry the burden of his memories; in like manner Ed now did the same.

"Fine..." Ed sniffed, not releasing even a fraction of his hold. "But I never tell you enough and I should... how much I care..."

Al's eyes rested on the shoulder in front of him before responding, the automail he had watched be constructed, worked and broken several times. Ed's right arm... his fault, his responsibility, the cost and price paid for his very life. Yet somehow, just looking at it now washed some of his exhaustion away. He watched it shift slightly, the sound of metal scraping softly as it tightened around his shoulders. Some things can never fade under the strain of trial and time... even love.

Ed could almost feel Al try to smile. "I know. I really do, even when you don't say it," he whispered back.

Side by side, just like the old days they traveled uphill together; falling down only to be picked up again by the other's dearly familiar hand.

Slowly at first, but then building in confidence, Al carefully began to trace Ed's back with the tips of his fingers. It was something their mother had done years ago, whenever they were hurt or sick, or simply in need of comfort. She would lay her sons stomach down on her lap, and with tender fingers, softly stroke over their skin. The touch, light enough to be soft and deep enough to not tickle was entrancing; they could not help but fall under her spell and succumb to the dreams she directed through the melody of her words.

Al had several memories of watching his mother do this with Ed, a little different than what Ed had done with him. Though his brother had never once admitted it since the time of Trisha's death, it was one of the things he missed the most about her. It had been over seven years... such a long time to have only the memory. For all of what Ed had done since that time, he was more than deserving of a small touch of home, of what brought him a measure of true calm.

A warm spirit filled the room, chasing away the lingering remnants of the dark silence that had been.

Ed sighed gently at the first touch, like a whisper of longing. So long since he had thought of this, remembered this tender mercy. What Al lacked in their mother's grace he made up for in his caring soul, his caressing fingers as light and soft as feathers. For several long minutes Al let his hand rove over the expanse of Ed's back, many times lingering around the red scars that framed his brother's mechanical limb.

"Al... I'd forgotten... how did you remember after all this time...?"

Al said nothing, simply drawing Ed's shoulder closer to his face with his free hand, his mind so full.

So many times when he had wished to comfort Ed during their journeying but held back by what little he could do outside a mortal shell... little more than listen and talk, place that empty, heavy leather hand on Ed's shoulder in support, and do what he could to protect his brother from harm. But it had never been enough... how could it be, when he was forced to stand by and watch his brother suffer from the pain of mortality and feel things he could no longer truly understand?

Ed meant more than anything to Al. He always did whatever he needed to in order to make things right again, no matter how long it took or how many people told him it was impossible; even when he was fighting against everyone around him, even Al, even himself. He was so stubborn and bull-headed; but he loved... so much. And Al regretted... how much Ed had been forced to endure alone. He deserved more, far more than that.

"I'm sorry..." Al said after some time, his hand never breaking its pattern, his voice lined with soft guilt. Even if Ed rejected it, he still needed to say it.

"... Why?"

Al shook his head slightly at his own confusion. "For hurting you..." For all the burdens you take on for my sake.

Ed did not respond, but rather chose to just sigh, slow and deep, and shift into a more comfortable position. His left hand, long silent, began to trace light circles over Al's shoulder.

Al wanted to say more, to thank his brother for just being there, for holding him and listening to him, for caring as much as he did. He could spend a lifetime trying to repay what had given back to him and still be left feeling that only a fraction had settled to outweigh the odds. Oh brother... brother mine... He had fallen into the storm, but now, now he was free. His heart was whole and his own, and nothing would ever separate him from it again.

What could he say... to express the gratitude he felt? Was such a thing to the magnitude he felt even possible?

Al lifted his head and turned it to the side, brushing Ed's long hair out of the way and pressed his forehead into his brother's temple in its place. He hoped Ed would understand what he could not put into words... After several seconds of uncertain hesitation, Al gulped, shutting his eyes tight as he gave his older brother a soft kiss on the cheek, tears running down his own.

Ed's response was his fingers through Al's hair and against his scalp, an affectionate touch no longer recoiled from.

"It's going to be all right Al. No matter what happens... we're going to be all right."

Yes... Al could agree with that. Perhaps not quite today, but one day... one day they would be.

The End

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((Thank you for reading to the end. --Special Hugs--))