"Al!" Edward sat up abruptly. A sheen of sweat clung to his face and body and he was panting heavily. Loafs of air were coming out of his lungs and were sucked back in with a dry, rasping sound. He was shaking beyond control. His thoughts swirled in his head in a dizzying revelry and it took him a while to breath normally again and realize that the vivid words and images in his head were nothing but a dream.

He shuffled unsteadily to the bathroom sink and washed his clammy face. He didn't trouble to turn the lights on and in the darkness, he glared at his pale, shadowed reflection. The memories from the dream were now foggy and as they disappeared, they left behind a distinct feeling of sickness, which always accompanied bad dreams. He frowned at his mirrored image. He could recall his brother's brutal eyes accusing him silently and then, his once sweet voice filled with disgust as it slowly recited everything he had ever done to hurt him, all his faults, his sins. And it was a long list. He could still recall his icy voice declaring ferociously:

"You, you robbed me of everything I could ever have: my peace, my happiness, my humanity. You might as well have let me die." His voice grew in harshness and loathing. "You killed me, brother."

The image then morphed to that of his mother, smiling at him and then to the thing he had created that night. Its smile was evil and distorted and it whispered in a voice that was not human: "You killed me, Ed." The thing then started to laugh, a horrid, evil laugh, and tried to pull him down to the endless darkness.

"NO!" he screamed and heaved into the sink. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stumbled back until he felt his back clash against the hard bathroom door. Leaning against it, he let his back slide till he fell on the cold tiles. He stayed like that for a long time, dejected, empty, his mind slowly processing the strange dream. He didn't even try to repress the thoughts. When he had calmed down, he started to doze off again.

Darkness. A shattered glass in the middle of the ground. He bent over to inspect it. There was a picture in it. A family. He didn't understand, but he felt like he had seen them before. It felt strangely familiar. The man's face in the picture was smudged and he couldn't see his expression, but the woman seemed so happy that it sent him tingles of joy. The other's faces had an equal shade to them.

Had he ever been this happy?

Who was he?

Then the scenery changed and he was in the middle of a war, and the people were killing each other. There were sounds of bodies clashing with the floor; there were gunshots and crying. He shuddered as some people were blown off right in front of him. He was scared; he stepped back and trudged in the opposite direction. Then he stopped when he saw a man that seemed vaguely familiar. He had black hair and dirt-smeared clothes and black eyes that were so tired, so hollow. He cringed. He knew the look in those eyes. He had seen it before, yet he couldn't remember when. It was heart-breaking to see him like that. He wanted to do something about it. He wanted to turn to him and say, "Don't worry. You're not alone. I have felt that way before." As if that would make any difference. He turned to the man and was about to speak to him, but then he realized he wouldn't listen. This was not his memory. He hadn't been here.

The scenery changed again and he felt himself falling. He gasped and then he realized he was back on his feet. He was pacing a dark corridor. He couldn't see anything ahead of him, but he knew he was walking in circles. He could feel the pulse of the Earth beneath him, undying, unchanging. But what did that mean anyway? As he walked the endless corridor, he started to feel tired and uneasy. Was there no end to it? He needed to get out of there; he needed to break the cycle. But how?

Then he was in a familiar building. He was receiving a silver watch. He heard a voice tell him: "It's your choice, Edward Elric." And then Al was in front of him, and his piercing green eyes were looking directly at his. He felt guilt. "Brother." He inwardly flinched; waiting for the harsh words he knew were coming.

"You look like a wreck."

"What?" He cracked one eye open to see a huge metal armor looming over him. A faceless expression; a voice tinged with concern. His mind was still hazy and it was certainly trying to trick him. "What you said was true. I know it. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to be happy while you're not. But I can fix it. Just give me time," Ed rambled, eyes half lidded, nodding slightly.

"Brother…what are you talking about? I just got here from Risembool, and you seemed to be having a nightmare so I woke you up."

Was this some sort of joke? It wasn't funny. The Al in front of him stretched a metal hand to help him up. Confused, he sprang to his feet and shakily backed into the hallway. He lunged to the door of his apartment and continued to run aimlessly until he tripped on something hard and fell face first on the soft, wet grass. His head throbbing painfully, Ed rolled until he was looking at the parade of immaculate white clouds on the blue morning sky. Then, something clicked in his mind and the cogwheels returned to their normal state of motion. It was morning. The dull ache on his head told him he wasn't dreaming. It was his brother he had seen. The real flesh…no, metal Al. He must have returned from Risembool that morning by train, entered their apartment and found him sleeping on the floor. Great shit. He had mistaken him for one of his dreams. Why had he come anyway? He wasn't ready to talk to him. So, why now?

Already perfectly conscious and lucid, Edward got to his feet and found his way back to his apartment. When he got there, he noticed Al had already left. A large suitcase was standing in the lobby instead and over it was a small note that said, "I'm at the library". Edward felt his stomach grumble. He glanced at the nearest clock. It was nine a.m. It was time for breakfast. As he helped himself to whatever food he could find in the kitchen, he remembered he had to collect some papers in headquarters, something he had forgotten to do the last time he'd been there. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to delay it any longer as he needed them for his next mission. Besides, it would distract him from his present situation.

Then a thought struck him. He would be there. Immediately, he started to fret. Ignoring the fluttering anticipation he felt, he told himself that seeing him would probably make him even more confused, and he wanted to avoid that. But he really needed those papers; maybe there was a way he could get them without being spotted by the man?

Sighing, Ed went to take a shower and dress himself in fresh clothes. His current ones were fairly sweaty due to the bad dreams he had had that morning. When he was finished, he quickly made his way to the military headquarters, while conjuring up plans on how to avoid facing the Colonel directly. Once he was inside though, everything seemed to be going just fine. The coast was clear and the first person he spotted was Fury, who was at his desk, busy with some papers. No one else was in the room. Perfect.

He had just finished retrieving the information he was looking for, folded the necessary papers and stuffed them into his coat when suddenly, an all too familiar voice rang from behind him: "Fullmetal!"

His eyes widened in alarm.