Dear Al,

I don't know why I'm writing this, you'll probably never read it anyways. That's because you'll probably never get it.

I know, that would mean that it's probably pointless writing this, if that's the case, but what else can I do? The things that this letter contains, I'm too stubborn, or too stupid to tell you, to say out loud, so they have to be written.

The first thing I want you to know is that it wasn't your fault, and that I love you, And Winry too. You, my brother, and Winry? Winry is like a sister to me. (Don't worry, Al, I won't take her away from you.) I think that you and she are the reason that I've even come this far in my life. You wouldn't believe the amount of times I've thought, 'this is not worth all this pain' and wanted to give up, but then I've seen your face and realised that it was. You were there for me the whole time, and you cheered for me. Your courage brought me through.

That said, however, you are my greatest source of guilt. It is my fault (No matter how many times you say otherwise) that you are the way you are, and when I look into your eyes, I feel like crying, for I long to see you as you were, all those years ago. Not the way you are now. It's hard to explain my feelings to you, Al, I love you so much, but I hate what I have done to you. I hate seeing your metal face looking at me, when I know that it's my fault that you look that way.

But I guess that good things come from the horrible, sinful things I encouraged you to help me with. Though not nearly enough to atone for the pain that I must have caused you, you and I have met some fantastic people. There's Hawkeye, havoc, Maria, Fury, Farhman Breda... Even Mustang. They all have our best interests at heart. It's incredible, and Armstrong is right (Though I wish he wouldn't say it with pink sparkles and flexing muscles) Family is one of the most important things in the world, and these people are our family.

Yet more people for me to hurt, to kill, by sheer stupidity or accident.

Like Hughes.

It's sort of my fault that he died too, well, in a way. It's father's fault, for Hughes was killed trying to help us, killed by Envy. How is that father's fault? I haven't explained yet. I know. Envy is our older brother, who father brought back as a homunculus. Yeah, I was shocked too when I found out. Father had a son with someone else, before he met mum. But somehow, I can't see that Homunculus as part of our family, anymore than I can see Sloth as mum. I simply cannot make that connection. You are my only brother, Al. I love you.

But I don't know you. You know all my ins and outs, how I react, and in what situations. I'd like to say I know you the same, but you're always too damn sensible, and my anger doesn't help matters. I don't like my short fuse, I hate it. I wish I had your calm.

You always have acted the older brother, haven't you Al? Whereas I rest back on my talents and I got your body destroyed. I'm sorry. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am.

Your application has always been a strong reminder of my own laziness. Just as your calm serves to remind me of my own anger, your innocence of my bloodied hands.

Mother did come back you know, in a twisted wreck, struggling to breathe. I couldn't leave her like that, her exposed heart beating, blood, oh the blood everywhere, and spurting everywhere, and thinking back almost makes me feel sick. She was dying, Al, we brought her back, but the way she was? No one should live like that, even for moments. I couldn't just watch her in that much pain, and slowly dying Al! I had to do something. Please don't hate me.

But how can I ask you not to hate me when I hate myself? I see you, and I feel so guilty, I AM guilty, I see my hand, the left one, and I try to clean it of the blood that is there, but it won't go away. It doesn't seem fair to me that I lost only an arm and a leg, yet you lost your whole body. Why? You were the innocent one, and I corrupted you. I should have been punished, not you. Not like that.

I cannot tell you how much I hate the words "It's Perfect."

Nothing is ever perfect, not even God. He made me after all.

Still, my brother, I care for you more than I can ever say. Which is why I have to leave for awhile. I have to find who I am again. I have to learn to reign in my temper. Just so that I don't hurt you, or Winry, or Mustang, or anyone else again.

I'm going to talk with Teacher. She and I have been arranging this for awhile. She's going to leave me somewhere where I can think, and visit me once a week. Less, if I can convince her to. If you have any letters, send them to her, and I'll get them, I promise. Tell the others this too.

But I've made her promise not to tell you, or the military, or anyone whose last name is Elric or Rockbel where I am, my dear brother, I need to sort things out on my own this time.

I love you all so much, because no doubt Al is reading this out loud. I love you all more than I can say. You are my family.

I guess Al will get this letter after all.

Love, Edward Elric.

01/09

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This fic is a series of letters sent back and forth between the characters. The dates will be in the American style of month, day, rather than day, month, because we Australians will conform ourselves when necessary to avoid confusion. But if you see a date that does seem confusing or impossible, I've probably just slipped up and put the dates around the wrong way. Please forgive this.

However, my spelling will not conform! -Armstrong sparkly pink things- MUAHAHAH! PROPER SPELLING HAS BEEN HANDED DOWN MY FAMILY FOR GENERATIONS!

Does anyone know the proper way to spell homunculus? I guessed.