Decco6226: Al with a horse is the cutest ever! And you can have him :) I know you'd take good care of Alphonse :)
Guest: First world problems indeed, haha. Disney World is the happiest place on earth so I figured the boys definitely need that. Thanks for the review!
Yveltal45: Hey good to hear from you! :D You're really too kind, but I'll take the compliment! Thanks so much and I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far!
PierceMyChemicalHorizon: I love that about Dr. Hughes! He loves them so much and you're absolutely right; if Hoho weren't around, they'd turn to Dr. Hughes for support. I love that line, too! It felt real to me and I just love how blunt it is. I love that Al's opening up, too! I feel like he's finally comfortable enough with Dr. Hughes to actually take advantage of having such a kind and supportive therapist. 'Cause let's face it - Dr. Hughes is like the best therapist ever! I'm proud of Al, too! He did so well when Papa Hoho went away and he was so brave! Ed is such a good brother. Even if his face isn't okay (which it is, haha) he wouldn't even blame Al for it. he'd act like it wasn't even hurt for Al's sake because he loves him so much. I'm proud of Ed, too. Even though he's having some problems, he's progressing really well and I'm proud of him. Glad you're very happy and I hope this chapter makes you happy as well!
Hey, guys! Happy Saturday! As a warning, this chapter does contain descriptions of child abuse as Ed tells more of his story. Just letting you guys know if that makes you uncomfortable. It's near the middle to end of the chapter but doesn't take up the end of the chapter. So if you skip it, make sure you find where it ends so you can read the end of the chapter :) Thanks again for all the support and reviews. You guys are so great! I don't have anything else to say, so I'll let you guys read! See you next week!
When my alarm for school goes off, I can barely lift my head. Last night was rough. After Al's huge nightmare, I ended up having one a couple hours after that took forever to recover from. After that we slept really restlessly and now we're beat. Like, I can't get out of bed. I'm too tired. Beside me Al groans. He sits up only to fall back down on the bed with a soft thud. Picard bristles at the motion and jumps off his lap, his tail flicking angrily 'cause Al woke him up. Al tries sitting up again and succeeds, his head hanging. I manage to sit up and groan. I rub my face with my hands and swing my leg over the bed.
"Uh, Brother?"
"What?" I answer wearily.
"I can't go to school," Al tells me tiredly.
"Same," I reply. Granny peeks into our room and grimaces at the sight of us. She walks in and shakes her head.
"You boys look terrible," she comments. "Bet you feel terrible, too."
"Oh, we do," I answer. My eyes are itching and I can barely hold my head up. Granny frowns and shakes her head again.
"Bah," she barks. "Take a mental health day, kids."
"Oh, God, thank you," I sigh, falling back into bed.
"No problem," Granny replies. "I'll be at the garage on and off all day today. Just so you know."
"Okay," I say, curling up under the covers.
"Don't get into trouble while I'm gone," Granny warns. I nod and I hear her leave. I turn to talk to Al but find he's already asleep, drool running down his face. I shake my head and soon, I'm asleep too.
I sleep until ten. Al's still sleeping but I decide that he needs to wake up. Mostly it's selfish. I just don't want to sit in Granny's house alone. But I've justified it by saying he shouldn't sleep all day. So I force him to wake up and we walk downstairs. Al and I take mental health days sometimes. When our anxiety's really bad or we don't sleep well, Dada lets us stay home from school. If Dad can't get off work to watch us, we hang out in his office so he can take care of us. I don't know why Al and I have such a hard time remembering to do simple human tasks. I really don't. But we do. We make it down stairs and sit in the living room. Picard joins Al on the couch and I turn the TV on. Day time TV is lame, but Al and I sometimes watch The Price is Right and laugh at it. Until then we flip through channels and Al pets Picard with a shaking hand. The show starts and we watch it but neither of us make fun of it. We're too warn out for that. It ends and I check my watch. It's noon. Al hasn't eaten yet and he didn't pee when he woke up. I grimace. I hope he isn't so detached that he forgot that using the bathroom is important. That doesn't happen as much anymore but every once in a while he gets that bad.
"Al," I say, "Do you need to pee?" Al looks over at me and nods. I exhale in relief and say, "Okay, let's go." Al nods again and gently places Picard on the couch.
"Be back soon," he tells the cat. He lightly touches Picard's nose and takes my hand.
"Cold and wet or dry and warm?" I ask.
"Cold and wet," Al asks. "I like his nose either way, but I like it when it's cold better for some reason."
"When Captain's nose is dry it feels like his tongue," I say. "Feels like sandpaper." Al laughs and nods.
"Oh, that's true," Al agrees. We get to the bathroom and Al says, "Thanks for reminding me."
"No problem," I say. "Let's eat after."
"Mmm, 'kay," Al replies. "Then we'll have to remember to brush our teeth." I nod. I'm good at reminding Al to take care of himself and he's good at reminding me to take care of myself. That is, Al's good at taking care of me when he's taken care of. If he's not taken care of he can't take care of me. So as long as I keep him clean and fed, he can do the same for me. Al lets go of my hand and Den walks by. I pet the dog and when Al's done I decide I should pee, too. So I do and when I'm done I take Al's hand again. I guide him to the kitchen and I rummage around for something to eat. Left overs, easy things we can make in the microwave, and I find a note from Granny.
I'll be back at noon to feed you. Hold tight until then.
Granny
"What's that, Brother?" Al asks curiously.
"Granny's gonna be home soon," I reply. "She's gonna feed us."
"Mmm, 'kay," Al hums, sitting at the table. I sit down to and Al looks up at me. "What are you gonna talk about tomorrow, Ed?"
"One of the games," I answer. "Then I guess I'll talk about the wedding."
"That was a bad day," Al says softly.
"Yeah," I agree. There are three days that live in infamy in my head. April 8, 2005 – Mom died that day. June 17, 2006 – Dada married her that day. October 3, 2013 – the day she went to trial after the most miserable summer of my life. Those are the three days I hate the most. Those are the days I take mental health days. Those are the days I wish would just get scrubbed off every calendar for the rest of my life.
"If Dada marries Lucy, d'you think the wedding will be fun?" Al asks.
"I don't know," I answer quickly.
"I hope so," Al sighs. "A fun wedding would be nice."
"Could you drop it?" I snap. "I don't wanna talk about that!" Al finches and nods.
"Sorry," he whimpers. "Okay." I sigh and shake my head.
"Sorry, Al," I apologize. "I just don't wanna talk about that." Al nods.
"Okay," he says softly. "I'm sorry." I smile weakly at him and stand up. I ruffle his hair and Al laughs.
"Don't be," I tell him. "It's okay."
"Boys! You up?" Granny calls as the door opens.
"Kitchen!" I call back. Granny walks into the kitchen and smiles at us.
"Morning," she teases. We grin and she puts a sack of food on the table. "Sorry, boys, but I can't eat with you. Are you gonna be okay until Winry gets home?" Granny knows that we have issues taking care of ourselves when we're anxious. But honestly, I'm not that anxious right now. I didn't stay home 'cause my anxiety was awful. I stayed home 'cause I was freaking tired. I don't know how Al's anxiety is, but just looking at him I guess it's not too bad.
"We'll be okay," I tell her.
"If you're sure," Granny says. She kisses us good-bye and leaves again. We tear into the bag of food, eating in silence and talking only with our eyes until the front door opens again.
We sat at the table until Winry came home from school. She looked worriedly at us before asking how our day was. We both shrugged. There wasn't really much to tell her. We sat around in our pajamas all day and didn't even brush our teeth. Winry seemed really worried for some reason and she pestered us until we got dressed and brushed our teeth. So now I'm just sitting on her couch but wearing jeans. Oh, joy. On mental health days I like to just lay around in my pajamas. I know Al likes that, too. But Winry gets worried for some reason when we take mental health days. I think it's 'cause she gets pulled back to a time where our mental health days meant we laid in bed all day and didn't do anything. We didn't eat, bathe, or do anything normal humans do. We're better than that now. Now we sit on a couch and forget to do normal human things. But with a little prompting we'll do it. You just gotta know how to motivate us I guess. No, motivate isn't the right word. Pull us out of our thoughts so we realize that we haven't showered in three days is more accurate.
After Winry's done with her homework we decide to play video games. Since Winry promised yesterday that we could play LEGO Marvel we start with that. Al gets antsy and it's the most he's moved all day. He's excited to try the game and I can tell it makes Winry feel better. She feels better when we're normal. Well, normaler. Al and I aren't exactly normal kids. Nothing anyone does will make us that way, I think. But we can get close to that. We take turns playing and quickly get bored. Not 'cause the game's bad or boring but because it's exactly the same as all the other LEGO games that we've played a million times. If it ain't broke don't fix it, I suppose. So we decide that it might be fun to use the Kinect. I remember when that thing came out everyone wanted one and it still managed to flop. I think it's the same reason no one really likes Wii Sports; nobody wants to play video games that require movement. But hey, you tried. Anyway, Winry's Xbox came with Kinect so she has one and this dumb dancing game that came with it. It's stupid, but all three of us like the game. We like to see how can dance best so we decide to play that instead. All three of us are kind of competitive. Dada always says that it's good we're not in sports 'cause none of us work well as a team. I don't think that's true but I get what he's trying to say. We want to win individually, not as a team. I get it. And he's right. But I've always kind of wanted to play a sport. When I was a kid, I tried lots of different sports but she never let me join a team. Now I can't imagine being part of one. Maybe if Al did it I could do it too. Maybe.
All the songs on the dance game are old. It's funny 'cause I can remember when they were popular as we scroll through them to pick one to dance to. Winry's going first and I have a pretty good idea what she'll pick. It'll either be Drop it Like it's Hot or Down. Not 'cause she's good at doing the dancing but 'cause she likes to sing loudly to the song as she dances. Winry's actually got a pretty nice voice. I mean, it's not star quality or anything but it's nice. She stays on pitch and can carry a tune really well. She actually used to be part of a children's choir but absolutely hated it. Since she hated it Granny let her quit. She picks Down to dance to and the game loads.
"Get it," I laugh. Winry turns back at me and smirks.
"Wanna make it a contest?" She asks. "We all dance to this song and the winner gets the loser's desert?"
"Sure," I say, accepting the challenge. "Al?"
"You're on," he says with a smile. The song starts and Winry turns back to the TV. She dances to the song, singing along as the game comments that she's doing well.
"Even if the sky is falling down," she sings and I watch as she dances. I blush, looking at my lap. I like watching her body move that way. Am I a pervert because of that? I don't know. I glance over at Al and he's singing too. He's moving slightly in his seat and I grin. I stand up and pull him to his feet.
"Brother?" He asks. I shush him and start dancing with him. Al giggles and we start dancing behind Winry. It's sabotage but I needed to distract myself from my nasty thoughts about Winry. She doesn't get angry, though. Instead she ignores the game and dances with us and we start singing together.
"Baby don't worry, you are my only, you won't be lonely," we sing, "Even if the sky is falling down! Baby, you won't be lonely, you are my only, even if the sky is falling down! Down, down, down, down, down!" The song ends and Winry gets her score but ignores it. We laugh loudly, the game booing her because she failed the song. She doesn't care, though. I think all she really cares about is that this dumb game managed to make Al and me laugh. Al and I aren't obnoxious teenagers often and I think Winry's made it her goal in life to help us act that way more often. She thinks it's part of the teenage experience. I don't know. What I do know is that I'm glad she cares enough to make us laugh and act silly, even on bad mental health days.
Granny gets home during our dance-a-thon. After the first song, Winry put on another one and all three of us danced to it at the same time. It really confused the computer, though, and we lost every time. Not that we really cared. It was more fun that way. Granny made dinner and when it was over we sat around and did some homework. Al and I were functioning better after a day of sitting around so the homework Winry brought home for us could actually get done. I gnaw on my pencil as I work, bad thoughts beginning to rise up in me. What if we have another bad symptom day tomorrow? We can't afford another mental health day. I sigh; our symptoms can get ugly. I really don't want to put Granny and Winry through that. But I can't control what my anxiety or depression or PTSD does so I'm stuck. If my symptoms are gonna get ugly they're gonna get ugly. Al suddenly stands and I check my watch. It's only nine thirty but I guess he's tired. He walks up to our room and I put my stuff down. I follow him and we both end up in our room. Al takes his shirt off and puts a pajama shirt on. He bends over and I say,
"You need to take a shower first." Al jumps a little and stares at me.
"Brother," he breathes. He shakes his head and says, "I didn't know you followed me."
"Sorry," I say. "Didn't mean to scare you." Al smiles weakly.
"I can shower in the morning. I'm really tired." Al says.
"But you could forget," I point out. "Besides; if you go into the bathroom to shower it's more likely you'll remember to pee and brush your teeth." Al's brow furrows and his cheeks turn pink. He looks down at the ground and shrugs.
"I don't need you to take care of me," he grumbles.
"What?" I ask.
"I'm not just some big baby you have to take care of!" Al yells. "I know I'm supposed to shower and pee and brush my teeth! Just back off!"
"Hey!" I yell back. "I'm only trying to help! You forget those things sometimes when your symptoms get bad!"
"I don't need your help!" Al cries. "I can take care of myself!"
"Like hell you can!" I argue. "You would have peed yourself this afternoon if I didn't remind you to get up and pee!" Al blushes really hard and he shakes his head.
"No!" He yells. "I wouldn't have! I don't do that anymore!"
"Yeah, you do!" I argue loudly. "Face it – you need me to function and you know it!"
"Shut up!" Al screams at me. "I do not! I don't need you!"
"Whatever," I mutter angrily. "Do what you want. If you want to skip a shower and forget to brush your teeth that's your problem." I turn to leave when the floor creaks behind me.
"Brother."
"What the hell do you want?" I demand. "Want to yell at me some more?!" I turn around and Al's crying. My face softens and he sniffles loudly.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I sigh. "I know it's embarrassing. But it's okay to need help sometimes, Al. We all need it." Al nods.
"I know," he cries softly. "But it feels like I need a lot more if it than other people."
"Well, that's 'cause you do," I say. "But it's not a bad thing. You'll get to the point where you can take care of yourself but right now you can't. It's okay." Al cries harder and I pull him into a hug. "C'mon, Ally," I say gently. "It's okay."
"I'm sorry," Al cries, "I do need you."
"I know," I reply. "I know you do." I pet his hair until he calms down. "You really should shower, buddy. Your hair's getting gross. How long has it been?"
"I haven't showered since…." Al trails off and pulls away. There's blush crawling across his face as he says, "Since Saturday."
"Oh," I say. "Well, that's okay. Go take a quick one now." Al nods and I gasp.
"What?" Al asks worriedly.
"I just remembered something," I say. I wave my hand and say, "It's not important. Go take your shower."
"Are you sure?" Al presses. I smirk. Oh, I'm fine. I just thought of a way to help Al remember to take care of himself, something that worked before. I nod.
"Yup," I say. "I'll wait for you here, 'kay?" Al nods.
"Mmm, 'kay," he replies. "Be back soon." I nod and watch him leave. Once he's gone I hurry downstairs and look for a pack of stickers. There's bound to be one somewhere. Winry loves stickers. I finally find some and grab a piece of paper before hurrying back up to my room.
When Al was twelve, he responded really well to a sticker chart. Well, it wasn't really a chart. It was more like a piece of paper with stickers all over it. Dada would give him a sticker when he'd remember to do something on his own like taking a shower or eating. He also got a sticker when he'd do whatever it was me or Dada would remind him to do. We stopped doing it sometime last year but I can't remember why. I think it's 'cause his good days started to outweigh his bad ones so Dad didn't think he needed it anymore. But this week, I think he does. He needs to be told he's doing a good job. I just hope it doesn't backfire. I don't want him to think I think he's a baby. 'Cause I don't. I really don't. Al just…. Well, he needs help remembering that taking care of himself is important. He thinks so little of himself that self-care gets forgotten. I'm the same way. Somedays I don't really care all that much about how I smell or if my clothes match or if I eat. And that's when Al reminds me it matters. It goes both ways.
"Brother?" I look up and Al's walking in. I smile at him.
"Hey," I greet. "Come here a second." Al walks over and his brow furrows when he sees the stickers and the paper.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"Well, I thought you'd like to collect stickers this week," I explain. "If you don't wanna, it's fine, but I thought it might help you remember to take care of yourself." Al stares at me and I'm scared he's upset. But soon a smile spreads across his face and I relax.
"Yeah!" He cries eagerly. "Okay!"
"So, you took a shower," I say with a smile, "So that's a sticker."
"And I brushed my teeth," Al tells me. "And I went pee."
"Good boy," I praise. I put three stickers on the paper and Al takes it from me. He frowns and I ask, "What's the matter?"
"You should collect stickers, too," Al tells me. I blush and Al says, "That way I can keep track so I can help you better." I look up at him and Al smiles at me. "I'll do my best to help you take care of yourself too, Brother." I smile weakly. Al's so nice. It's like he knows exactly what I need to hear all the time.
"You're the best," I tell him. Al blushes and shakes his head.
"I don't know about that," he replies, "But I do know that I care about you."
"I…. My symptoms are getting bad again," I admit to him softly. "It's 'cause Dada's gone." Al nods.
"Me too," he says.
"So," I say, "Let's help each other so they don't get as bad as they were two years ago. I'll keep you clean and fed, Al. I promise." I hold my fist out for him and he grins. He taps it with his own and says,
"I'll keep you clean and fed, too, Brother. I promise."
"On that note," I say, "I'm gonna shower." Al nods.
"And I'm going to sleep," Al tells me. He sits down on his bed and says, "Don't forget to brush your teeth, Brother." I grin at him.
"I won't," I reply. "I'll tuck you in when I'm done." Al nods.
"'Kay," he answers. I ruffle his hair and leave, knowing full well he'll be asleep long before I get back.
It's Wednesday. I really hate Wednesday. Last night was better than the night before, but I'm still tired. I'm cranky when I'm tired and as I sit through school I debate if I'm even gonna tell my story today. I sigh and rest my face on my hand. Of course I'm gonna tell my story. It's like I have no other choice now. It's such a habit that if I didn't tell it, I don't know if I could function. So even though I really don't want to tell it, I do at the same time. The final bell rings and I hurry to my locker. I beat Al to it like usual and Winry talks to me. She asks if Dada hangs around during group and I tell her no. I don't know what he does for that hour but it's not sit around and wait for us. She nods and asks me if I'm okay. As much as I like that Winry cares about me, I sometimes wish she'd back off a bit. She makes a big deal out of nothing. Like, when I don't talk much she assumes something's wrong. It doesn't. Sometimes I need to internally process things and when that happens I'm quiet. It doesn't mean somethings wrong with me or anything. I know she means well but still. Al finally makes it over and we walk out together. Granny's waiting for us and we all pile into her car. She asks how school was and we all say it was fine. Well, I think it was. Can't really remember.
Granny drops us off at the building and we walk inside. The group's not all here yet and Al and I take our usual seats. My palms are sweating. I really don't want to tell my story today. It might make my symptoms worse. It might send me right back to where I was when she got arrested and that was a bad place. But I owe it to myself to see this through to the end. I owe it to Al, too. We both need me to tell our story. We need to do it or we'll never stop running from it. I think that's what I want. I really don't know. More people trickle in and I'm silently panicking. I'm so anxious. I can't seem to get my lungs to work right. I know exactly what I'll talk about. I'll describe one of the games she liked to play with us and then talk about the wedding. Oh, God. I can't breathe. I can't. Someone squeezes my hand and I know it's Al. I glance over and he smiles warmly at him. I watch his chest rise and fall and it helps me to breathe again. Al makes me safe. Al makes me feel less anxious. I honestly don't know what I would do without him. Soon, the group all arrives and they all look at me. I take a deep breath, set my watch, and start talking,
"Things got progressively worse for us as the months went on. When Al's fifth birthday rolled around, Vanessa had convinced Dad that he didn't need a party. Al wanted one, though. He wanted to go to Chuck-E-Cheese so he could see what it was like there. A kid in his preschool class had their birthday party there but he wasn't allowed to go. So he wanted to go so he could know what it was like. But Vanessa said no. So we wound up just going to Granny's house and having a tiny little party there. But Vanessa didn't allow games or anything like that. It was about as basic as you can imagine. No balloons and Vanessa didn't even get him a cake. When Granny realized he didn't have one, she and Dada hurried to the store to get one. They couldn't get one that said happy birthday, though. I remember that Dad came back to Granny's house that day, all flustered and frustrated because he thought Vanessa had gotten the cake. Luckily Granny managed to find some letter candies and spelled out 'Happy Birthday Al' on the cake with a big number five candle in the center. I remember that Al cried a lot that day. Even though he got a cake, it was like an afterthought. Dada didn't check with Vanessa to make sure she actually got one so to Al it was like Dad didn't care about him and neither did Granny. I did what I could but I knew that there wasn't anything I could do to help him. If I did, it would only end poorly for both of us.
"After Al's party all Dad could think about was the wedding. It was all he could talk about. It was happening in late June and that whole month was torture for us. It was during that time that Vanessa started playing games with us. Not the fun kind, though. The kind that kept us up at night and scared us to our very core. The first one she came up with involved food. She'd put a full plate of food in front of us and tell us we could eat only if we met certain criteria. The first game ever had to do with being quiet. She said it was the quiet game. I remember it really specifically, too. Al and I were in our room and she told us to play the quiet game. She said that whoever won got some kind prize. We were scared, of course, but we knew better than to disobey. So Al and I stayed quiet for hours until dinner time. We came down for dinner and Vanessa asked us who won the game. We told her that no one did; it was a tie. So Vanessa smiled and put two plates of food in front of us. We stared up at her and she gave us the okay to eat. We exchanged glances, wondering if it was really okay to eat. But it had been a few days so we were hungry. And she did say that there would be a prize when we won. So we each picked up a fork and took a bite.
"That was a mistake.
"In an instant the plates were completely broken and food was splattered on the wall because Vanessa threw the plates. We were confused, shivering as we waited to see what she was going to do to us. Vanessa stood, her shadow engulfing us both as she demanded to know who gave us permission to eat. We told her she did and realized that was another mistake. She smacked us both, calling us liars and thieves. I remember being really confused by her mood swing. I won the quiet game. I was allowed to eat 'cause it was my prize. But I was wrong. I quickly realized as her games got more and more elaborate that there was never a way to win. Her games were a way to keep us in line, especially when Dada was home. She could abuse us that way without really ever laying a finger on us.
"As May became June, Dada stopped traveling. He needed to focus on the wedding so Vanessa played the food game with us a lot. She would also put us in the corner for no reason just so we'd stay out of her hair. As the big day loomed closer, I remember feeling sick to my stomach. I didn't want Dada to marry Vanessa. I wanted to tell him everything so he wouldn't marry her. But I never had the courage to. That is, I didn't have the courage to until about three days before the wedding. The rehearsal dinner was happening soon at some fancy restaurant. Vanessa had to work so Dad took me and Al to scope it out. He was trying to make conversation but Al and I weren't really all that talkative. He seemed worried so after he showed us the wedding hall he took us out for ice cream. But we didn't touch it. We sat in the restaurant and allowed our ice cream to melt.
"'Is something wrong?' Dada asked us. Al didn't do anything but I could feel the words rising up in me like puke. I knew better. I knew I shouldn't say anything to him. But before I could stop myself I blurted,
'I don't wan' you to marry her!' Both Al and Dad looked at me. Al's eyes told me everything I needed to know in that moment. I messed up. We both knew I did. When Vanessa came home that night Dada would tell her what I said. And somehow, I'd get in trouble for it. I started shaking and blinked away tears.
'Ed,' Dad said softly. 'Are you scared that I'm trying to replace Mom?' No. No, I wasn't. I knew that Vanessa couldn't replace Mom. Vanessa was mean and Mom wasn't. But despite that, I felt myself nodding. Maybe Vanessa would go easy on me if I said yes to Dada's question. Maybe.
'Yeah,' I sniffled miserably. 'I don' wan' you to forget 'bout Mama.'
'Oh, sweetie,' Dada sighed, 'I could never ever forget about Mom. Mom was special and I loved her very much. No one could ever replace her.' I nodded but said nothing. There was nothing else to say. I wasn't really afraid of Dada replacing Mom. What I was afraid of was Vanessa joining our family for real. But I knew then that my concerns weren't going to be taken seriously. I knew then that when it came to Vanessa, I would never ever win.
"That night I stayed up in my room with Al. I was terrified of what Vanessa would do to me when she found out what I told Dada at the ice cream place. Would she beat me even though Dad was home? Would she make up some new game to play with me? Would she make me stand at the mirror and chant how I was bad over and over again? I didn't know. I didn't want to know. The door opened and I frantically turned toward it. At first I thought maybe Dada was coming to put me and Al to bed but I was wrong. It was Vanessa. She grinned at me and shut the door behind her. I whimpered and tried to hide Al behind me. I always did my best to protect Al. She didn't always let me, of course, but I tried. I took more beatings so he wouldn't have to get hit as often. It was all I could do to protect him, really. Vanessa smirked at me and walked over.
'Heard what you told Daddy earlier,' Vanessa informed me. She grabbed my hair and said, 'You little shit. I know you lied to him.'
'I-I'm sorry,' I managed to say.
'You know what your little stunt just cost you?' Vanessa asked. I shook my head and she said, 'You and Al aren't going to the wedding.' My heart slowed to a stop.
'What?' I breathed. Vanessa chortled loudly at me.
'You heard me, stupid,' she chided. 'Vic doesn't want you at the wedding. He doesn't want you messing up our special day.' Al whimpered and Vanessa glared at him.
'Don't you start crying or I'll give you a reason to cry,' Vanessa warned him. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't! How could she take that away from us!? How?!
'Dada!' I cried, Vanessa smacking me instantly.
'What the hell are you doing?' She demanded. I blinked. I really wasn't sure. It was instinct, I guess, to call for him. Soon Dada was in the room and Vanessa wasn't holding on to my hair anymore. I ran over to him and gave him a big hug, shivering violently. Al hurried over too, demanding to be held as Dada hugged me.
'What's wrong, Ed?' Dada asked.
'Dada, please let me go to the wedding!' I begged. 'Please! I'm sorry 'bout wha' I said! I wanna go! Please, Dada!' Dada smiled sadly at me and kissed my hair.
'Don't worry, Ed,' Dada assured me. 'You and Ally are my guests of honor.' I looked up at him, tears in my eyes and he said, 'I won't get married unless you two are there.' I grinned weakly but turned briefly to look at Vanessa.
'But Nessa said….' I trailed off, the words getting lost somewhere. I knew I was being stupid. I shouldn't have told Dada that Vanessa told me and Al that we weren't going to the wedding. But I did anyway. I don't really know why, though. I guess it's 'cause since Dada was home I felt safe enough to. I don't know.
'Well, I think Nessa misheard me,' Dada tells me gently. 'You and Al are going and nothing will change that.'
'But I thought we agreed it was too stressful,' Vanessa argued sweetly.
'Hon, I won't get married without my sons,' Dad said sternly. 'End of discussion.'
'What if they were sick?' Vanessa questioned. Dada sighed and I felt my heart stop.
'Guess we'd have Pinako take care of them during the ceremony,' Dad replied. 'But they'd be there. I will not get married without my sons present.'
'Alright,' Vanessa said cheerfully, though I could tell she was pissed. She just lost. I knew then that though Dada was more inclined to believe Vanessa when it came to discipline and things, he was the only one who could beat her at her own game. He could shoot her down and beat her. He was the only one who could do it. And because of that, we got to go to Dada's wedding. I smiled happily and Dada kissed my hair. I was so happy. Little did I know that the wedding would be a living hell for us both.
"On June 17, 2006, my house was all awake before nine. Vanessa was trying to find an excuse why we couldn't go but was failing. Dada had made up his mind. He wanted us there. It was one of the few times growing up that I actually felt wanted by Dad. Dad got Al and me dressed and while he was getting ready Vanessa payed us a visit. She screamed at us and told us we ruined her wedding day just by existing. She told us that soon, we'd pay for it but she was going to give us a preview. We were terrified and when she grabbed my arm, I screamed. I fought to get away, screaming for Dada to come save me. But he was getting ready and couldn't hear my cries as Vanessa dragged me to outside of the room. We were in the basement of the church they were getting married in. It had these big metal doors that I was scared of getting smushed between. Vanessa pulled me over to the doors that led to the staircase upstairs and opened it. She forced my hands inside and the door slammed on them. I screamed again, Al watching fearfully from the hallway. I started crying, Dada hurrying out of his dressing room and over to me.
"'Ed!' He cried worriedly, 'Ed, baby, are you okay?'
'He didn't quite get his fingers out of the way, Vic,' Vanessa lied. Dada took my hands and grimaced.
'Oh, dear,' he mumbled.
'D-Dada,' I whimpered, 'It doesn't hurt. Let me go to the wedding.' Dada smiled at me and kissed my forehead. He turned to Al and said,
'Ally, help me find some ice for Brother's hands.' Al nodded eagerly and ran over. He took Dada's hand and Dad picked me up. As he iced my hands I felt so terrible. I wanted to tell him that Vanessa did that to me. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him she was the reason we were bad kids, that she hit us, and that we were scared. But I couldn't. I was too scared to. What if he didn't believe me? What if Al got hurt 'cause I snitched? What if Dada got hurt 'cause I snitched? So instead I kept buried deep inside and that afternoon, Dada got married to my abuser."
My watch goes off and I quickly silence it. Everyone stares at me like always before other people begin to talk. I sigh, thinking about Dada's wedding day. If I had just been brave, I could have told him everything right then and there. I could have prevented the seven years of hell Al and I were forced to endure. But I couldn't. I wasn't brave. I was scared. I was weak. And Al suffered because of my weakness. I squeeze his hand and he glances over at me. I tell him with my eyes that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell Dada the truth on his wedding day. I'm sorry I never told anyone the truth. I'm sorry that the only reason we got rescued from it all was 'cause Al had to have a breakdown at Winry's. I'm sorry that I couldn't do more to protect him, to keep him safe. I'm sorry for a lot of things. And Al – Al just smiles at me. He smiles that gentle smile that makes me feel safe and tells me that he knows I did all I could for him. He knows that I was scared and that it's okay. He doesn't blame me. I smile weakly at him and we don't talk again until group's over.
Al and I walk outside the office building to meet Granny and Winry. It was weird to not have Dada come inside to get us like always. He can't do that, though, 'cause he's in London. Stupid London. I shake my head. It's not London that's stupid, really. It's his dumb conference that took Dad away from us this week. Stupid work. I push the door open and my eyes take a minute to adjust to the light. Granny's car is sitting near the curb, Winry staring at her phone. Her eyes are wide and my brow furrows. I drag Al over to her and ask,
"What are you doing?" I ask. Winry glances up and her eyes widen.
"Ed!" She cries like I've been gone for a million years or something. I chuckle at her and she pushes me.
"What the hell, Winry!?" I demand, Al cowering behind me.
"Don't laugh!" She yells. "Miss Izumi called me!"
"What's going on?" I ask worriedly.
"Her foster kid ran away!" Winry informs me worriedly, tears forming in her eyes. "They can't find him anywhere!"
"What?" Al breathes. "They can't find him?" Winry shakes her head.
"No," she cries. "I'm sorry I pushed you, Ed, but this is serious!"
"Yeah, I know," I reply. "It's okay."
"Brother," Al says, tugging on my clothes, "We should go to Teacher's house. We have to help her find Wyatt!"
"Can Granny take us there?" I ask.
"Of course," Winry tells me. "She wanted to make sure it was okay with you guys if we went over there. Granny and I were going to go with or without you." I nod.
"Okay," I say. "Let's go." Winry nods and we get in the car. Winry tells Granny that we need to go to Teacher's and she looks at me and Al.
"You sure you boys can handle it?" She asks us. We nod.
"Yeah," Al answers.
"Granny, Teacher and Sig need our help," I say. "And Lil' Nugget's probably scared. We have to help in any way we can." Granny nods and we drive away from the building. I wonder why Lil' Nugget ran away. Did something scare him? Was he afraid that Teacher was going to hurt him? Maybe he's moving homes already and it freaked him out. Whatever the reason is, I'm going to find him. Teacher doesn't deserve to be this worried. She was this worried when Al and me were kids and I won't put her through that again if I can help it.
We get to Teacher's house and hurry inside. The police are everywhere and we push passed them so we can talk to Teacher and Sig. They sitting at their kitchen table, their tired eyes staring blankly at the wood. Granny and Winry hang back to talk to the police while Al and me walk over. We sit down, Teacher and Sig looking up at us. They instantly stand and pull us into a big hug. I hug them back, trying to tell them it's not their fault. Foster kids run away sometimes. It's nothing they did. I can't find any words to say, though. All I can do is wrap my trembling arms around them and hope the gesture is enough to tell them all I'm feeling. The hug ends and Al asks what how long Wyatt's been missing. Teacher says he's been gone nearly three hours. I want to ask what happened, but the bubbles prevent me from doing it. Luckily Al's here so he asks for me. Sig says he isn't sure what set Wyatt off and Teacher doesn't know either. All they found was a picture in his room of me and Al with Teacher and Sig and the frame was busted.
"He might of broken it by accident and was probably scared he'd get hurt," Al says. "I know I used to hide in my house when I was scared Dada would hurt me 'cause I was bad." Teacher sighs and kisses his head.
"We're going back out to look for him soon," Teacher tells us. "But it's a school night and I don't want you or Brother coming with us."
"But Teacher!" Al cries. "We wanna help you!" I want to protest to, but for some reason my throat's closed up and I can't.
"It's just not a good idea," Teacher insists gently. "You and Ed are stressed enough as it is right now. It wouldn't be right of me to bring you along."
"Mrs. Curtis."
My blood freezes as a new but familiar voice floats into the room. There's another reason they don't want us to help. I fearfully glance up and see the one man I had hoped I'd never see for the rest of my life; Officer Roy Mustang. He blinks at me like he's surprised to see me before smiling gently at me.
"Hey, buddy," he says softly. "How are you?" I stand and stand in front of Al who's shaking violently. Teacher's got her hand on Al's head and my lungs stop working. I start wheezing and Teacher puts her free hand on my shoulder. I flinch and swat it away, panic mode starting.
"Edward," she says gently, "It's alright. Officer Mustang is here to help us find Wyatt. That's all. You're safe." I swallow and nod. Al clings to me and starts crying loudly.
"We're sorry!" He cries. "We're sorry!" Officer Mustang smiles at us and walks over. I back away and he pauses.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't realize you boys would be here." I can't say anything. The bubbles have clogged my throat and my lungs aren't working.
"Ed, breathe," Sig reminds me gently. "In and out, okay?" I guess they know to focus on getting me calm first. They know from experience that if I'm calm, it's easier to calm Al down. But I can't seem to breathe. Tears prick in my eyes and my chest feels like it's collapsing. I can't breathe. I can't. Suddenly I'm a little nine-year-old kid who's freaking out in Teacher's kitchen. I grip on to my hair and shake my head.
"I-I c-c-can't b-breathe," I manage to say.
"Of course you can," Teacher insists. "Your body's designed to breathe, Ed. Let's do it together." I nod like a little kid and Teacher says, "In…." I take a shaky breath and Teacher waits 'til I'm done before saying, "Out." I exhale and we start over. In and out. In and out. In and out. Soon, I'm not shaking nearly as hard. I look up at Officer Mustang and blush.
"Uh, sorry," I mumble. He simply shrugs.
"Does Al still liked stuffed toys?" Officer Mustang asks me.
"Uh, yeah," I reply, confused. It's then I remember Al's still scared. He's crying. I turn my attention on to him and say, "It's okay, Ally. He's here to find Nugget, remember?" Al nods and wipes his face.
"Uh-huh," Al sniffles. Officer Mustang walks over and squats down so he can look at Al's face better.
"Hey, kiddo," Officer Mustang greets. "You've gotten bigger since I saw you last. That's good." Al nods and Officer Mustang pulls something out of the bag he has. It's a stuffed bear and he hands it to my brother. Al's brow furrows but he takes it.
"What's this for?" Al asks.
"Well, I don't see your cat so I figured you needed something soft," Officer Mustang explains.
"Oh, I have Chico," Al tells him. He hands the bear back and says, "Thank you." Officer Mustang smiles and pushes Al's shaking hands back toward Al's body.
"Keep it, buddy," Officer Mustang says. "You like stuffed animals, right?" Al nods and Officer Mustang goes on, "Then it's yours. You keep it." Al nods again and switches the bear out for Chico.
"Any sign of him?" Teacher asks worriedly, her hand resting on my shoulder. Officer Mustang shakes his head.
"Not yet, I'm sorry," he answers. Teacher sighs and rubs her forehead.
"We'll find him, Izumi," Sig says.
"Teacher," I say, "Let us help. Please." Teacher glances up at me and smiles.
"Alright," she finally agrees. "I want you and Al to stay with me and we'll only look for an hour. It's a school night and I don't want you boys up too late." We nod, Al takes my hand and I ask,
"What about Sig, Teacher?"
"He'll go with Officer Mustang," Teacher says.
"What about Granny and Winry?" Al asks nervously.
"How about they come with us?" Teacher suggests. "The more eyes the better I say." We nod and Teacher guides us through the doorway. She makes sure we have jackets on before handing us each a flash light. Winry says she'll go with us and Granny decides to hang back. She says too many unfamiliar people might freak Wyatt out and that's the last thing he needs. So we walk out Teacher's front door and begin our search for the lost Lil' Nugget.
The sun is gone and Wyatt's been missing for three and a half hours. We've been walking around for thirty minutes, calling his name desperately into the dark. Officer Mustang is on the phone with Teacher now, asking if we've tried looking at Wyatt's old house. Teacher says no but that the police should head over there. I look around as Teacher pockets her phone and realize I recognize the area. There's a little park nearby that Al and I used to hide at when we were little. I frown and pull Al toward the park. He glances backward at the group and tugs on my arm to get me to stop. But I don't stop. I know Teacher said to stick together but I have a hunch I know where Wyatt is. Al allows me to guide him into the park and we can't hear or see the group anymore. Teacher's gonna be pissed that we wandered off but if we find Wyatt how mad could she be? We make it to the park and I look around. Al clings to my hand, whimpering as a title wave of bad memories washes over us. When Mom died, I ran away. I ran here and hid under the playground until Dada came to find me. When the beatings got rough before we met Teacher, Al and I would hide here until she dragged us home. When I was thirteen and I was scared Dada was gonna hit me I hid here until he came to get me. We know this park. I guide Al to the tunnel and pause.
"Lil' Nugget?" I call. Something moves in the tunnel and Al bends over. He gasps and tugs on my sleeve. I look too and see Wyatt staring at us. I shine my flashlight in the tunnel and see he's been crying. Wyatt whimpers and backs away as Al gets on his hands and knees.
"Hey," Al says softly. "It's okay." Wyatt shakes his head.
"I w-was b-bad," Wyatt whimpers and I see so much of myself in this poor kid. I sit down next to Al as Al says,
"Do you mean the broken picture?" Wyatt nods and starts crying loudly.
"It's okay," I tell him. "Picture frames can be replaced, Wyatt. It was an accident, right?" Wyatt nods again and I say, "Tea…. Izumi will understand. You just need to tell her the truth instead of running away." Wyatt blinks, tears running down his pale face as he stares at me.
"B-But…" he snivels, "That's scary!"
"We know," Al says gently. "We know. But grown-ups like it when we tell the truth."
"Mommy didn'," Wyatt whimpers and my breath gets caught in my chest. No, Nugget. Don't talk about the abuse you went through. Not now. I can't handle it. I can't.
"I'm sorry," Al says, his voice strained. "I'm so sorry, Wyatt." Al whimpers and starts crying. "I promise Teacher's not like your mommy. Teacher's nice and really cares about you. Please come out. Let's go home." Wyatt shudders before crawling over to us. He crawls up in Al's lap and starts bawling. Al pets his hair in an attempt to comfort him.
"Good job, Al," I praise. "How'd you do that?"
"You," Al says instantly. "You taught me by treating me nice when I'm scared." I blink and pull Al into a hug. He obviously wasn't expecting it but slowly returns it with Wyatt in his lap.
"I love you," I tell him softly. "I'm so proud of you." Al giggles.
"I love you, too, Brother," he whispers. I let him go and Al says, "Let's go find Teacher." I nod and stand. I pull Al to his feet and Wyatt latches on to his waist. "It's okay," Al tells him, "I'll carry you if that's what you want."
"Yeah," Wyatt says pathetically. I put my hand on Al's back and guide him out of the park. We look around and find that Teacher and Winry haven't moved that far. They're calling for us and we walk over.
"Teacher," I say when we're close. She turns on her heal and hurries over. She engulfs me in a hug and says,
"You and Al better have the best reason I've ever heard for running off. You scared me!"
"We do," I tell her, pulling away. I step aside and Teacher lets out a strangled gasp. Al walks over and Wyatt squirms out his hands.
"Mommy!" Wyatt cries, running over to her. Teacher opens her arms wide and catches him. She lifts him off the ground and Wyatt wraps his legs around her middle.
"Thank God," Teacher breathes. "Thank God." Winry walks over and smiles at us.
"You found him," she says.
"Brother just knew where to look," Al replies. "We understand him; you know?" Winry looks down.
"Yeah," she says softly. She sniffles and I glance over at her. She's crying and I have no clue why'd she'd do that.
"What are you crying for, Winry?" I demand.
"You understand him," she says simply. "And that breaks my heart." I blink and look away from her. There's nothing else to say now. Winry has officially killed the conversation. Or so I think.
"It's okay, Win," Al says gently.
"No, it's not!" Winry cries loudly. "You guys went through so much growing up and there was nothing I could do to help!"
"You can't do that," I tell her. Winry looks over at me and I say, "You can't. It's not your fault." Winry whimpers and pulls me into a hug. She says she loves me over and over and says how sorry she is. Al joins the hug and soon everyone is a big crying mess. Teacher walks over and pulls Al into a one-armed hug, Wyatt resting on her hip. She's not crying on the outside, but inside she is.
"Thank you, boys," she says softly. We nod and Teacher says, "Let's go home." We nod again and I let go of Winry. She takes one of my hands and Al takes the other. We walk back to Teacher's house, hand in hand, Wyatt falling asleep long before we make it back.