A/N: Last chapter. Short chapter. Wierd chapter. This is the only fic that I've found that this happens. Fullmetal Alchemist and the respective characters do not belong to me.

Scars are souvieners you never lose, the past is never far...grew up way too fast, and now there's nothing to believe, and reruns all become our history... "Name" by the Goo Goo Dolls

Scars

A week later Edward Elric stared down his own reflection. He'd been released from the hospital several days earlier. Alphonse Elric and Winry Rockbell were out, seeing the town. Edward had been left behind because, in roughly an hour, he needed to report in to Colonel Roy Mustang for a report and a briefing of his next mission, as it were. Edward stood, leaning on the bathroom sink, and staring fixedly at his reflection in the mirror. It showed determined eyes obscured by the fine cloud of blonde bangs. His hair was loose around his shoulders, drifting in soft locks down to his shoulder-blades.

He took a deep breath, and squashed the vain hope that Alphonse and Winry, or someone else, would come in and stop him. He lifted his right hand, took hold of his bangs, and lifted the scissors with his left. With a sharp snick, the hair on the right side of his face now ended just about his ear. He sighed, tossed the shorn lock into the trash bin, and started on the other side. Slowly but steadily, he trimmed away, until his hair ended about his ears. He looked up when he was done, and was surprised by how strange he looked. It was the even fringe of bangs across his forehead, he decided. For the longest time his bangs had parted in the middle. Now they were too light to separate, and so covered his forehead.

He dusted himself off, picked many fine blonde hairs from the sink, and tossed a paper towel in the trash, hiding the hair he'd thrown in there. Then he returned to his room to finish getting ready. His head felt strangely light, the back of his neck oddly bare. The shift and sway of his shortened locks felt strange, after the flow of longer hair. He missed the weight of a braid curving to his neck and spine. With a sigh, he pulled on his coat, hopped into his boots, and left the barracks. He felt rather self-conscious walking along the street, but saw no other choice.

Colonel Roy Mustang wondered what the commotion outside his office was all about. He tapped his pen against his desk, and looked at the clock on the wall. Edward Elric was about to be two minutes late for his report. Roy did not like lateness. He looked to First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, who was sitting in a chair by the door, sorting through several folders in her lap. Roy glanced up when the door opened, and saw the familiar red coat of Edward. Roy did a double-take as Edward shut the door. The boy's braid was missing; not just missing, all of his blonde hair was cut obscenely short. Roy forced his jaw shut, but it was Riza who beat him to the question.

"Edward, what did you do to your hair?" She was up in a small flurry of papers, frowning down at the teenager.

Edward hesitated, surprised by the reprimand in her tone. "I cut it, obviously."

"You cut it so short! Why?" Riza leaned over and put a hand on Edward's shoulder, running the other over his cropped locks. He shrugged uncomfortably, moving his head away from her hand.

"Too many people kept grabbing me by the braid. So I cut it."

Riza stepped back as Roy came meandering around his desk. "Hawkeye could have told you how to keep long hair from being a disadvantage during a fight, you know," Roy offered. He leaned down and caught Edward by the chin with a thumb and forefinger. Edward scowled, but did not pull away. Roy stared intently at the shorn hair, lightly turning Edward's head this way and that during his examination. In the end, he too ran a hand over the shortened blonde hair.

"Cut it out. Everyone back there in the hall had to pet me, too." Edward pulled back, crossing his arms in annoyance. Roy read a touch of defense there as well. "Why are you all so upset? It was just hair."

Roy shrugged. "You look strange without it. I'd gotten used to the braid."

"Oh, Edward," Riza sighed. She did not elaborate. Instead she started gathering up her scattered papers.

"Well, Fullmetal, now that you've shocked us all, it's time for business." Roy headed back for his desk. "About this last trip you went on, how did the townspeople react to a military alchemist in their midst?"

Edward Elric stirred the pot of soup vigorously. Winry Rockbell and Alphonse Elric were due back any moment from their outing. Self-consciously, one hand rose to his short hair. He discovered himself twiddling with the ends, and removed his concentration back to his soup. He didn't want to burn it. No, a ruined supper on top of his haircut would not fly well at all with either Winry or Alphonse. So it was with great relief that he finally judged it ready and set the pot off the burner. As he was doing so, he heard the door open, and Winry and Alphonse call out to see if he was there.

"In the kitchen!" he hollered back, setting down his hot-pads. He opened the oven and peered curiously at the rolls. They looked almost done. One hand patted around on the counter for his hot-pads, and with them he pulled the pan out. He had just set it down on the stove-top when Winry's shriek assaulted his ears.

"Edward Elric, what on earth did you do!" Winry came flying into the kitchen. She almost knocked him over, and pulled anxiously at his shortened hair. He tried to fend her off with his hot-pad.

"Winry! Get off! Ouch, that hurts!"

"Niisan!" came Alphonse's horrified cry. "Your hair!"

"I know! Winry!" Edward succeeded in beating her off with the hot-pad. "It's not enough to kill me over, Winry. It's just hair. I cut it off this afternoon."

"Why?" Winry wailed, reaching over to pull again at his hair. He flinched out of reach.

Alphonse came over, and he, too, ran a hand through Edward's hair. "Niisan, why did you do that?"

"Sheesh, you and everyone up at the military headquarters has to pet me, huh?" Edward complained. But he stood for his younger brother to finish his inspection of the protested haircut. "I cut it off because too many people grabbed my braid during fights. I got tired of it."

"Hawkeye could have told you how to handle that," Winry protested, trying again to get her hands onto his head.

"Stop that." Edward retreated a quick step. "Dinner's ready, if it isn't cold by now."

They ate dinner, and slowly settled down for the night. Much later, lying in bed, Edward waited until he heard Winry start to toss and turn in the next room. Certain that she was sleeping, he got up, pulling his blanket around his shoulders. He padded over to where Alphonse sat, and squeezed himself between the suit of armor and the wall. There, he draped his arms around Alphonse's neck, and leaned all his weight upon the armor. Silence rested on the two brothers for a moment.

Alphonse raised a hand and stroked Edward's shorn locks. "Did this have to do with the fight at Tramp's Hole?"

Edward leaned his head into the touch, and sighed. "It might," he answered. "And it might have to do with my disappearance, too."

"Niisan, why won't you tell me anything? You always tell me everything. But you won't talk about why you scared me, or why you tried to fight at Tramp's Hole even though you were hurt." Alphonse sounded genuinely aggravated.

"Oh, Al," Edward murmured. "I just...I just...I can't." To show no ill intention, he leaned a little farther forward and put his cheek where roughly Alphonse's was. "I'm sorry, otouto."

Alphonse sighed. "Niisan, what am I going to with you?" he asked, shifting his hand along with Edward's head, keeping the contact. "What will I do with you? I can't leave you alone...you'd never take care of yourself properly."

"No, I don't think I would," Edward chuckled. "I'm glad I have you, otouto."

"Ed, will you tell me someday?"

"Why are you harping on that?"

The hand on his hair shifted, caressing, conveying what Alphonse could not. "Because you're my brother. And I can't stand to see you hurting. When you get so quiet, or get that look in your eyes, I know you're hurting. You get so defensive..."

"I just...it's too much for you to know." Edward ducked his face down, pressing it against the cool metal of Alphonse's shoulder. "It's too new," he whispered. His breath condensed on the armor, creating a damp spot. "It hurts too much... I don't want you to have to hurt like this. And you will...I know how you are."

"Would it hurt more than not knowing, niisan?"

"...I think...it might."

"Not knowing, I guess, and every guess scares me, niisan."

"Otouto, the truth often hurts more than not knowing."

"If I guess right, will you tell me?"

Edward hesitated, and the hand in his hair paused in its motion, sensing his distress. It resumed after a moment, and he sighed. The moisture under his lips chilled, then warmed. "I will tell you if you're right, otouto."

"It has something to do with your hair...something to do with Tramp's Hole... Was that criminal involved? He was mentioned in the newspaper... Roy said he was a very bad man. You were missing almost all night. You were hurt...you'd been fighting. But I don't think you won...you had bruises on your wrist that looked like hands. You ankle, too. And a bruise on your neck. Your lips looked like you had bitten them. Was it torture, niisan?"

"In a way." The silence stretched. "Not for anything. Not even to get at the military. Just to see...just to...to do it. They didn't kill me. They just..."

"You're shaking, Ed." And he was, fine tremors that vibrated into and through Alphonse. "I've never known you to be so afraid. What did they do to you that hurt you so much?"

His voice hung, and he choked. The little sound was muffled, yet Alphonse was attentive to it. His hand slipped awkwardly to Edward's shoulder and squeezed. After a moment, Edward stood up. He pulled his blanket tightly around himself, and moved in front of Alphonse. Alphonse had already adjusted his position. Edward nestled into the secure hollow formed for him, and closed his eyes when Alphonse carefully put his arms around him, one hand nestling again in Edward's shorn locks. Slowly, hot tears slipped down Edward's cheeks. He hadn't cried, hadn't wanted to, hadn't been able to...but now, tucked as close to his younger brother as he could get, he found the desperate control sliding away.

"Otouto... I...they..." he trailed off, and shuddered hard, once. The tears were distorting his whispers until he himself could barely understand them. Alphonse waited, ever so patient, understanding. In the face of such loyalty, how could Edward withhold anything? He turned his face into the hand stroking his hair, and mouthed the words he could not speak.

Alphonse made a quiet noise very similar to a sharp intake of breath. Carefully, he started to trace one word across Edward's cheek. Edward nodded before his little brother could finish, answering the unspoken question. In response, Alphonse carefully tightened the embrace. For a moment, behind closed eyes, Edward could feel his brother, as they had once sat, holding each other until tears passed, bearing each other's hurts as their own.

But he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Edward, Alphonse, and Winry boarded the train for Liesenburg, waving farewell to the escort of First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye and two regular soldiers. The trio went to their seats, and waited for the train to leave.

"Granny Pinako is not going to be happy with you, Ed," Winry complained, staring at his chopped locks.

"I know." Edward's fingers twiddled the ends of his hair. "At least she won't bop me with her wrench." He glared in Winry's direction. She was steadfastly ignoring him.

"Well, niisan, you were only out for an hour," Alphonse murmured, trying to peace-make.

"Argh." Edward twisted a short lock around his gloved finger. "And I still have a headache."

"How long will you two be staying at home?" Winry asked, abruptly. Both boys blinked at her, before following her subject change.

"Who knows. There's a rumor about the Stone south of Liesenburg," Edward replied, still twining one lock round and round his finger. "Besides, I don't like staying in one place too long."

"Bastard," Winry sighed, staring moodily out the window.

The boys exchanged startled glances. Alphonse shrugged. Edward scratched his head, and sighed. "Girls are confusing," he whispered to his brother. Alphonse nodded in sympathy, and reached over to stroke Edward's shortened hair. Edward scowled, but did not move. Alphonse seemed to be treating him with pity. Edward did not want pity. He was fine. He was. He regretted acting so hastily about his hair, but he was perfectly fine. If only Alphonse would believe it.

"Hey, boys, d'you think Granny will make us chocolate chip cookies when we get home?" Winry asked, turning from the window and beaming.

"I hope so!" Edward chirped, grinning madly. His eyes had the glazed expression of a chocolate addict hoping for a high.

Alphonse made a sighing noise. "Niisan. Winry, now you've done it! We'll not get anything out of him for hours now."

Winry and Alphonse burst into laughter. They laughed long after the train had pulled out of the station. Edward smiled a little smile as he stared out the window, feigning oblivion to their merriment.

A/N: In case you're wondering "why'd Edward cry now?" I have a scientifical answer. No, really. It's called post-traumatic stress, when the reality of what has happened hits the victim days, weeks, months or even years after the event.

Edward: I am not that much of a wimp! And you CUT OFF MY HAIR YOU ---------- BITCH!

Roy: O.O

Inez: Shaddap. I didn't say you were a wimp. And I've never found a story in which someone cut Edward's hair. So I had to try it, see?

Roy: No, I do not see. ...okay, maybe I do.

Edward: ARGH!

Inez: Read, review, flame, carry on, me hearties, yo-ho!