Title: Sometimes
Spoilers: None
Pairing: Al/Ed, if you squint (though not very hard, I suppose)
Disclaimer: Not mine. At all.
Warning: Well, elricest, like I said. Otherwise, just introspective Al-in-armour angst. (That needs a warning, right?)

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Sometimes
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Sometimes, Al watches his brother sleep.

The constant tightness around his eyes and mouth are no longer visible, slackened and relaxed by slumber. On occasion, he smiles fondly in Al's direction, as if he knows his little brother is regarding him just as affectionately. Other times, he turns his back unconsciously, clutching the sheets and moaning in pain, his legs thrashing the sheets onto the floor, a pile of casualties to his inner struggle. As softly as a body of armour can be, Al picks the sheets up again and drapes it over Ed when his nightmare calms. More times than they should, both he and his brother lay on their backs, staring alternately at the ceiling and at each other, silent the entire night of wakefulness.

Sometimes, Al laughs as his brother loses his temper.

Al only dares to laugh in silence, not wanting to provoke his older brother's wrath onto himself. Still, fondly watching Ed yell obscenities at anyone who dares utter the word "small" or mock his alchemist abilities, Al can remember that the boy who his brother once was didn't die with either their mother's death or the death of the creature they'd made in ignorance and hope. Al laughs to know that he still can, that their punishments can be reversed, that, no matter what he thinks or what others believe, his armour is not empty. That their hope is not empty.

Sometimes, Al wishes he could shed the tears his brother sheds.

To feel the cool emptiness that comes after the purge of crying, Al it wants with an oftentimes desperate need to feel that instead of the constant emptiness at not being able to express his emotions fully. Ed knows this, realized long ago that his brother wants his emotions, and he seems to unconsciously cry harder, laugh louder, yell longer, and love deeper, as if feeling for two people. Al still has the urge to feel tears rolling down his cheeks, but, for now, Ed's tears splashing on his metal body will have to make do.

Sometimes, Al wonders, when his body is restored, if he'll be as beautiful as his brother.

Al sees his brother now, standing outside in the rain, his blonde hair having slipped from its customary braid and the strands wrapping themselves around him like a lover's caress, like how Al always longs he could touch him, Ed's face upturned to the sky, peering into the clouds. His face is still marred by scratches and bruises from his latest assignment, one eye swollen shut and a bandage peeking up from the neckline of his uniform. Yet when he looks over at Al, the boy wishes he could blush, seeing the beauty of his brother that many cannot even recognize when they see his sleeping figure, let alone in the midst of a screaming match, his face bright red and his voice grating. Now, as Ed comes towards him, droplets of water smoothing over his cheeks like tears, Al can only hold breath he doesn't need and hope that he can match the boy in front of him someday.