Title: Dreaming
Author: tir-synni
A/N: Thanks to Gozilla, Henrika, and MusicalRileyChan for reviewing the first chapter!
Oft times, small things reminded Alphonse Elric of his inhumanity. Watching his beloved big brother shiver or fan himself . . . when birds landed on him, the hollow ting their feet coaxed forth . . . opening the torso of his armor to hide kittens. . . . Everyday things and all the worse for it.
However, the chunk torn out of his armor proved the greatest reminder of his inhumanity . . . and his weakness.
"Bro. . . ." Alphonse managed.
Scar towered over Edward's slumped form. His brother shivered now–minutely, beyond the perception of those unaccustomed to studying Edward Elric–perhaps from pain, never from fear, and Alphonse wished he could shiver, too, as Scar stared at the bowed head.
"I will keep my word," Scar swore solemnly. Too solemn for one about to commit cold-blooded murder.
"What are you saying. . . ?" Al choked. "Brother, what are you doing! Run away!"
Edward never flinched, the rain soaking his resigned figure. His drenched bangs hid his face. Scar's hand grew closer.
"Get up! Run!" Alphonse screamed, struggling to move his body. Pieces of metal fell to the ground. The hole in his side gaped mockingly. "Stop . . . stop it!"
The hand was inches from Edward's head. His fiery, beautiful brother never lifted his golden head.
Alphonse's hands tore into the cement. "STOOOOOOP!"
The flash of an alchemical reaction lit up the alley. Alphonse couldn't hear it over his own screams.
And white eyes abruptly glowed, lighting up the dark hotel room.
"Brother," Alphonse whimpered inaudibly. That had not been the first time he had dreamed of that incident, nor the first time with the alternate ending. Never, though, had he seen it so clearly. Inspired by their new plan? He didn't know or care. Alphonse only cared about one thing at that moment. He swept the room with his eyes. Even with the window, the room seemed so dark.
Ah. There he was.
Framed in the moonlight streaming through the window, Edward's lithe from barely took up half the bed. Bathed in the soft white light, his brother's beauty, as always, stunned Alphonse. From this angle, he could see Edward's hair tumbling like white gold over the covers, Edward's smooth cheek and elegant cheekbone, and his brother's slim form stretched out under the covers. Alphonse wished he could touch Ed and feel it.
"You're only after me, right? My little brother, Al. . . . Are you going to kill him, too?"
I dreamed tonight, Brother. Don't I need a mind to dream? Surely you were right earlier. My body would need support; you're the only possible means for the support. How much more are you going to sacrifice for me, Brother? Alphonse wanted to weep. You would have allowed Scar to kill you, just to keep me safe.
How would tears feel sliding down his face? Would they be hot, burning his skin? Or would his flesh be feverish, making the tears seem cold in comparison?
I want to cry for you, Brother. You never cry for yourself.
Riiiip!
Glowing eyes refocused on Edward. The small blond lay still on the bed, but Alphonse could see his automail arm writhing like a snake under the covers. Slender, shining figures tore restlessly at Edward's pillow. Al mentally frowned.
"Brother?" he called softly. "Are you all right?"
Instantly, his brother froze on the bed. "I'm fine, Al. Rest up. We have a long day tomorrow."
Edward's strained tone made Alphonse's nonexistent heart ache. "My body can't get tired, Brother," Al gently reminded him. One benefit of this body.
His brother's voice was painfully soft when he answered. "You've had a lot shoved at you in the past couple weeks. You may not be able to get physically tired, but you can get mentally and emotionally worn out. Rest."
Like you can't! Al wanted to shout. Brother, please, stop it!
Edward never relaxed on the other bed. In the moonlight, his older brother looked as beautiful and tragic as any of the heroes Mother told him about when he was young.
And suddenly, Alphonse hated it.
Then promise me . . . you won't touch my little brother.
As Alphonse swung his large body off the bed, countless memories assaulted him: Edward's bloodied, broken body huddled in their basement; the expression on his brother's face when Scar approached; the countless times Ed had been harassed due to his height; the endless nights so similar to this one, where he had been separated from his brother by mere feet that impossibly stretched out to several miles, all too aware of Edward's anguish and feeling helpless.
Not again.
Approaching Edward's bed, he could see his brother's eyes, wide and bright as they stared out the window. The pain that Alphonse could see there made him clench his fists.
Edward started as Alphonse gently grabbed his chin, taking care not to harm his brother with his inhuman fingers, and turned Edward's face towards him. Impossibly wide golden eyes stared at him.
"You're tired, too, Brother," Alphonse said firmly, fiercely. "And you can get tired physically. Rest, and tomorrow we'll both try to finish what we both began."
The surprise increased on that beautiful face, a vulnerability not allowed to the Fullmetal Alchemist. For that moment, he was only Ed, big brother to Alphonse Elric, and that gave Al the freedom to pick Edward up, slide himself onto his brother's bed, and settle his brother against himself. Finally, Al tucked the covers around his brother like a far younger Ed used to tuck the covers around him.
"Now sleep," Al commanded.
From his angle, Al could see the smile sliding over Edward's lips. "Right, right. I'm sleeping already!"
Only after Edward's breath relaxed into a sleeping rhythm did Alphonse allow himself to rest.
When he dreamed again, his metal, hollow body was the farthest thing from Alphonse Elric's mind. Instead, he dreamed of himself and Ed, both whole, curled together on Ed's old bed.
And pressed against him, Edward's lips curled into a secret smile, his breath and flesh keeping Alphonse warm.