Sorrows of the Heart

Chapter 4

Boy looked up to find himself staring at a tall suit of armor. It was staring at him and asking with a childlike voice, "Brother, is that you?"

Boy leapt backwards at the site of the armor, remembering the story of how he'd been found. With a leap, Boy started to climb the old willow tree, scrambling to get a good grip in his panic.

"Brother, what's wrong? Where are you going?" asked the armor from the bottom of the tree. It didn't try to climb the tree, it just stood there staring up. Boy caught hold of a branch and swung higher, out of the armor's reach.

"You're the one Jerome told me about… the armor." said Boy, secure in his place on the tree.

"Brother, it's me Alphonse. I came back to find you."

Boy looked down into the armor's eyeholes, afraid of what he'd see there, and yet curious about what was in the suit of armor. All he saw were two red lights that had no real explanation behind them. Suddenly an image came to him, a memory.

Boy felt himself shifted from a cool, metal embrace to the warm arms of a human. His vision blurred, partly by the cold, soaking rain that had covered his body, but partly from his struggle to remain conscious. Turning towards the sound of clanking metal he heard a familiar voice, Jerome's voice, call "Now get out of here! Go on! Get!"

Suddenly he was being carried quickly through the rain, but before he reached the warm light of the nearby house, he caught a glimpse of a huge grey blur.

"Al…" he called, watching the image fade into darkness.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Boy realized that something was not as he'd left it. He wasn't in the arms of the willow tree anymore. Following the length of the metal arms holding him, he found that the suit of armor, Alphonse he had called himself, was holding him.

Boy started shaking as he realized where he was, even his newly remembered memory not comforting him. Still, he stared the armor in the eyes or eyeholes, or whatever they were.

"Brother?" asked the armor quietly, "Do you remember anything?"

Boy sighed, shaking his head. .

"The name Ed, doesn't ring any bells?" questioned the armor.

"No, it doesn't."

"How about Trisha?"

"No." answered Boy, shuffling uncomfortably in the armor's arms.

"Look, your name is Edward Elric. You are Alphonse Elric's older brother. I'm Alphonse." said the armor.

"I'm… Ed?"

"Yes."

"Okay…" said Ed, still extremely confused. "This still isn't familiar. Why isn't it?"

"Brother, there has to be something you remember."

Ed looked at the ground, ashamed, and shook his head.

It was then that Jerome's voice found its way to the three. Ed sat up abruptly and said quietly, "Jerome told me that you were the one who hurt me. I don't think it'd be good if he found us here."

"Then come with me." said Al. "We can go find a way to get your memories back."

"I can't…" started Ed.

"You have to!" said Al. "Brother, we agreed that we'd stick together, that we'd never lose each other. I can't lose you."

Ed looked at the armor that was supposed to be his brother. There was such emotion to that voice, but he couldn't quite connect with it. Something was keeping the voice from helping him. But what was it?

"Get away from him you brute!" hollered Jerome as he came flying down the hill.

Al fled, after setting Ed on the ground of course. Ed stared after them in a kind of shock. He knew he had to find them again, but he wasn't sure how.

"Boy… are you alright?" asked Jerome, panting.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You know, he may know who I am."

"What do you mean?" asked Jerome, straightening slightly.

"He said that he used to know me. Before I came here. They said my name was Ed, and I had a brother, and…"

"They are wrong." said Jerome firmly.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ed.

"That man brought you here hurt beyond repair. He was taking you to the State Alchemists for experiments because he didn't think you'd make it. I… I stopped him. I talked him out of it, and paid him to leave you here…"

"But…" Ed started, but a sharp pain brought darkness and an end to his confusion.

When he woke, Ed found he was in his own room again, the one at Jerome's house. The last afternoon had been lost in the haze of pain that enveloped his head, but one thing seemed to stick. Ed. His name was Ed. Wasn't it? Rubbing his forehead absently, he climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Stumbling into the kitchen, he smelled fresh toast and eggs, and quickly forgot his problems from the day before, who could worry when there was food on the table?

Several hours later, Ed was outside the school, happily playing Swedish with some friends in gym. The small Swedish balls zoomed around the group, catching one person in the back of the leg, another in the back of the head, and so on until almost everyone was sitting on the ground, waiting for their chance to rise. Ed smiled evilly, a Swedish ball in his hand as he circled his only standing opponent. This boy was easily twice the size of Ed, and seemed sure of his victory. The two stared each other down, and the race was on. The tall boy leapt forward, firing the ball at Ed's chest. Ducking, Ed flew across the yard away from his opponent. The tall boy sprinted toward Ed, cornering him. Ed smirked as he dodged the incoming Swedish and retaliated, hitting the boy square in the jaw. Tall boy dropped and everyone else rose, laughing. Those on Ed's team swarmed around him, babbling.

"That was great, man!"

"Awesome! We'll win this year's tournament for sure!"

"That was so great! Where did you learn to doge like that?"

The compliments pounded in as Ed beamed, his smile wider than Al had seen it for years.

Sighing, Al watched from the bushes. Ed was so happy. He smiled all the time, and joked, and had friends, and didn't worry about the military or the Philosopher's Stone or his past. Ed had become an innocent again, just happy to be alive and kicking. How could Al take that away from him? There would be no way he could remind his brother of all the horrible things they'd done. That smile, that laugh… it was too precious for words.

Sliding as quietly as he could from behind the hedge, Al made his way out of town.

AN: Hey, I don't know if I mentioned this before, but Swedish is a real game. We played it at our school from time to time when it was raining. We would be given two baseball sized koosh(sp?) balls and the full run of out little tiny wrestling room where we played. The rules were as follows:

1) Once you are hit by the koosh you must sit down, no matter where you are.

2) When the person who hit you is hit, you can rise and be back in the game.

The object of the game was to be the last one standing. It was a free-for-all, although small alliances formed, and tended to win. (Although this was not always the case, as one person in our class knocked both in a powerful alliance down and saved the class.) The idea ofteams I added to make the game more of a sport, same with the tournaments. I just thought it'd make more sense to work with a half-fabricated game that I know all the rules to instead of some well-known sport that I know nothing about. Swedish is an awesomely fun game to play though.

On a more important note, thanks to ish, Isisoftheunderground, monkeybitmytail, ABO, Angel-of-Music1331, St. Jimmy666, crazyanimefreak15, Kiralover2, Reis1gurl, Ryuujin Dragon King, MastahChibeh, and fullmetal 4eva for all of the reviews. I really enjoy the feedback.

Thanks for reading!

T.K.