Juxtaposition
Cephied Variable
one.
The door swung open and
Edward felt his heart stop beating.
"I'm sorry but the proffesor isn't home right now!" the boy who answered was flustered and nervous looking. His dirty blonde hair fell across his pale forehead and blue eyes as he gestured apologetically. He was too old, too tall and his eyes were the wrong color, but there was a certain softness to his manner, a politeness to his tone and an awkwardness in the way he held himself that made Ed feel as if he could drop dead right there on the street and not care where his soul went either way.
He'd been prepared to meet them, of course- dopplegangers of the people he'd known on the other side of the gate. He'd been prepared to deal with the differences, the similarities, the pain he had no doubt would eat away at him when he caught sight of an elegant woman with Riza Hawkeye's eyes, or a ratty-looking waitress who looked far too much like a teenaged Nina for his comfort.
But this was not something he had been willing to consider. Edward felt a dizzying sickeness wash over him and he swayed slightly on his feet, unbalanced by the unfamiliar weight of his prosthetic leg. He gripped the doorway hard to keep himself from falling over. If he had still been equipped with his automail, he had no doubt that the wood would have cracked and splintered between his fingers. He hadn't meant to say anything at all- he had in fact, been planning to turn around and walk away and forget about rockets and space travel all togethers. But he said the name. He said it as if his heart were being ripped out through his throat.
"Al." he whispered brokenly. He wasn't as surprised as he should have been when recognition sparked in the boy's eyes.
"What?"
"Y-your name." Ed tried to regain his composure and failed. He settled for smiling fakely, "It's Alphonse, isn't it?"
The boy's nervousness fell away, quickly replaced by curiosity, "Yes." he answered slowly, "How did you know that?"
"Oh," Ed took a deep breath and forced nochalance, "It was just a lucky guess."
two.
Of course he would be a scientist. Al had always
been the methodical one, after all. Looking back on it, Edward was
glad for his brother's mathematical mind, realizing that it had
gotten them out of trouble on more occasions than he could count.
He told himself over and over again that Alphonse Heidrich was not his brother. He was nothing like him, in fact. Heidrich was simply too mature to be anything like naive, little Al who saw the world entirely in terms of good and evil. His world view was too jaded, too gray. Al had a sense of wonder and hope about him. He wasn't annoying enough to ever look for the silver lining, but Al did believe strongly in the goodness of people and the world around him.
But then Ed would look around him and realize that Alphonse Heidrich was who he was because the world around him was so dark and bitter and downright desperate. Still, Ed did not want to admit to himself that Heidrich was probably a lot like the man Al would have grown into given the chance. Admitting that would mean admitting to himself the possibility of never seeing his real brother again. That would be admitting defeat, and Ed loved his brother too much to ever admit defeat.
When Alphonse Heidrich smiled warmly at him and said: "Edward, you are just like the brother I never had." Ed wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the irony.
fin.