Hello everyone! I dearly apologize for the long wait. I hit a very very busy time in my life - Prom, Graduation, College Class Registrations, starting a summer jobwhere I get to bashinstruments over the heads of small children - er, I mean, tune cellos for a strings camp.

I've actually had this chapter finished for a couple of weeks (woah there! Before you throw the rotten fruit, let me explain). I'd made a deal with myself that I would never post a chapter until I'd already written the subsequent chapter. Because I've been busy, I haven't had time to write the chapter that comes afterwards. In fact, I still haven't finished it... but I figured you folks have waited long enough.

After careful deliberation (and some experimental ventures), I've decided to answer reviews in the body of chapters. That doesn't mean I won't use review reply here and there... but I think this way is easier for me. For one thing, I can barely keep track of who I've replied to and what I said to whom. If I've already replied to your review... I won't do it in chapter now since I've already talked to you, but I probably will next time.

CaptainKase: of cors i 4give u sillie!11!one! Ack... inner Grammar Nazi is spazzing out. Congratulations on Shattered reaching 150 reviews! Yay! And don't you fret about leaving long reviews... I love long reviews. They make me happy. :-) --- see, happy me.

Child of a Pineapple: Thank you so much! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Yellow Mask: Some of the best you've seen? You can't be serious! Be careful now, you're going to inflate my ego. Meep!

Issachan: Thanks! I was hoping these could be taken as gap-fillers. AU stories are fun, but there's always those little moments you want to see that you know did or might have happened off screen.

Beboots: I'm glad you're enjoying it! One more person to add to list of those who adore this timeline. :-D highfive


Rhythms

He buried his face in the warmth, hot tears staining little smudges on the soft fabric. Another smaller body came up beside him. There was enough room for both. There always had been. In, out, in, out. Pressed up against her like he was, he could feel her breathing. In, out, in, out. The breaths were quick from worry. As long as he held on tightly, closed his eyes, and could feel her arms holding both he and his brother close, nothing bad could happen – to any of them. Winry's face flashed before his eyes, her face pinched with grief. A sob broke out. He clutched on even tighter.

"What's the matter with you two?" With his ear pressed to her stomach, he could feel the words vibrate. But he could not answer. Any words he might have said caught in his throat.

"Come on, Ed, even you? My little man?" His face flushed with shame. What was he doing? It was such a childish thing. No matter how hard he held on, he could do nothing. If she got called away and died in some far away place like Winry's parents, there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless.

He knew this, and yet he could not – would not – let go. His breath hitched through the tears.

"What could be so bad?"


Bubbling up as if from some deep, dark expanse of water, Ed returned to consciousness. Even before he opened his eyes, he was already weary again. He felt strange and out of sorts; his head seemed like it was filled with dense cotton. Most of all, he felt heavy, heavier than he had ever felt in his life.

"Brother?"

The word stuck inside his cotton-filled head and continued to ring. A deep, stabbing pain throbbed somewhere deep under layers of metal and skin. That pulsing ache lined up with the beats of his heart, causing an endless rhythm to slog through him second after second.

The automail had finished being attached days ago, but he still wasn't used to it. The cumbersome limbs lay stiff and solid, tugging at areas that were not accustomed to the extra weight. Winry said that it was always more painful the first time. Automail attachment, she said –

"Brother?"

- was a rude shock for frazzled nerves. To suddenly have a missing limb be there was about the worst form of "phantom limb" you could get.

Ed didn't want to open his eyes. It was an odd cruel torture to be awake and yet be unable to do anything. Ed had not been able to lift himself from this bed for days. Winry and Pinako came in from time to time to help him with exercises to strengthen his muscles, but so far he couldn't even manage raising the metal arm or leg a few inches without assistance.

"Brother?"

Ed sighed and clenched his eyes shut. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep…

"Brother, I know you're awake."

… Damn it.

Opening his eyes, Ed watched as a very blurry suit of armor almost came into focus. He blinked and squinted. The light reflecting off of his brother was doing nothing for the brewing headache.

"Are you feeling better?"

Groaning, Ed buried the side of his face in his pillow. "Define 'better.'"

Ed jumped as he felt cool, rough fingers on his shoulder. Al, with his leather armored gloves and hesitant touch, massaged the muscles that had been stretched tight and sore by the recent abuse of the automail. Ed opened his mouth to tell him it wasn't necessary, but succumbed to the calming gesture and relaxed into it. Under Al's hands, the sharpest of the ache slowly bled away.

When Pinako first suggested this method to reduce muscle pain, Al had been very timid. He was still a bit awkward in his larger body, and seemed almost afraid to touch anyone or anything for fear of hurting rather than helping. The thought hurt Ed more than his shoulder and leg.

"Winry and Granny Pinako should come in soon," Al said, suspiciously sounding like he was fishing for conversation material. "For your exercises."

"I can't wait," Ed mumbled, willing himself to sink into the mattress.

When he didn't say anything more, the two lapsed into a lengthy silence. Al continued to massage his older brother's shoulder, but his movements were now slower, more cautious. At last, Al spoke up, his voice small, anxious, and curious.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"It hurts enough," Ed replied. He looked down and away. Biting his lip, he forced his voice to take on a lighter tone as he turned his glace back to the expressionless helmet that served his little brother as a face. "You shouldn't worry. It's nothing I can't handle."

"Oh." And that was it. Just that one brief word that confirmed understanding. If Al knew that Ed was putting on a brave face (which was so obvious it wasn't even debatable), then he didn't seem up to trying to break it down.

"Gah!"

Ed winced and clenched his teeth. Al exploded into a frenzied stream of apologies; he had accidentally touched one of the tender scars that snaked out from under the lip of the docking port.

"Al, don't –" But his words were lost among the avalanche of 'I'm sorry,' 'I'll be more careful next time,' and 'I didn't hurt you too badly, did I?' The onslaught was crushing.

"Al!"

The sudden outburst cut him off, leaving Al staring at his brother, still and quiet.

Ed breathed deeply. "It's okay. It's not your fault."

After that, another silence stole over the room. Ed could hear rattling from the other side of the wall. Winry and Pinako were probably gathering what they needed for today's bloodletting, a.k.a. Ed's periodical strengthening exercises. Since when were those pathetic little motions and activities known as exercise? Ed refused to acknowledge the fact that these "pathetic little motions" were ridiculously difficult to perform.

It was several minutes later when Al spoke again. "Brother," he asked softly, "if you knew that getting automail was going to be like this, would you have done it anyways?"

"Of course," Ed answered without hesitation. "It's all part of the plan, right?"

"Well, yes," stammered Al. "But… but it doesn't… I mean, you shouldn't feel like you have to – "

"Don't Al. Don't." Laying his left hand on an armor gauntlet, Ed smiled at his little brother. "I do have to do this. You're not going to change my mind, so save your breath."

Easing back into the pillow, Ed closed his eyes, that declaration soothing his nerves. Then he realized what his tongue had let slip, and he bit back a curse. 'Save your breath' indeed. Stupid. Stupid, stupid.


Once, when Winry and Al thought him asleep, Ed overheard the two of them talking. It had been late, and the light coming in through the door to the hallway was like a streak of gold, partially shadowed by the hulking form of a suit of armor. Whispers echoed against the quiet walls.

Ed had been ready to go back asleep, when he came to the realization that they were talking about him.

So he listened, the unknown third party in the conversation. Confusion and dismay spun webs inside of him, as he caught little snatches of words and phrases. Winry sounded upset and worried… but as Ed began to understand, for once this worry was not directed solely at him.

"… think that Brother just…"

"… feel hurt that he… ?"

"… sure that he doesn't mean anything by it…"

"… but it's like he's afraid to even look at you…"

Ed's heart sank lower and lower with each word. Evidently, here was another failure to add to his list. He'd been trying so hard… the forced litany circulating through his thoughts. That wasn't an emotionless hunk of steel. That was his brother, damn it. But always, just when he'd begin to see his brother behind that blank helmet, it would dissolve into the image of Al screaming and crying for help as he was dragged away from the transmutation circle bearing a bleeding Edward and the tainted, twisted body of –

"… know how he is… do everything right, even back in training…"

"… think he…?"

"… more hurt than I am… failed transmutation… two of us… mistake so big like that eats at him."

Burying his ears into the bed, Ed willed himself to be deaf to it all. Was that all that he was guilty of, all that he suffered from? A mistake? Mistake was hardly a sufficient word for it.

Al went on to tell Winry how much he thought the incident was his own fault, but Ed could stand it no longer. He blocked himself from the pity and the pained voice of his brother and begged for sleep.


The day came when Ed had progressed enough in his exercises to try walking with his new leg. He still hadn't made much progress with the arm, but Pinako explained to him that arms are much more difficult to get used to. It doesn't matter as much when gravity pulls down on legs, since they hang down straight at the lower end of the body anyways, but when arms are too restricted, they are useless.

Because keeping track of both cumbersome automail limbs while walking would be too much trouble at this point, Winry pinned the right arm into a sling, keeping it out of the way and relieving some of the burden off his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, young man?" Pinako asked of the small boy sitting on the side of the bed.

The mattress creaked as Ed shifted. "Yes."

"If you want, you can start off with Winry and I supporting you."

"No thanks, I'll do just fine."

Despite his insistence, he still allowed Winry to help haul him to his feet. She grasped his left arm to steady him as he wavered. Pinako stood to the side, fiddling with her pipe, her face expressionless. On the far side of the room, Al sat silently against the wall with a slice of apple pie in his hands.

Winry seemed positive that the process would be a whole lot easier with reinforcement. So she had brought up the piece of pie from the kitchen, knowing that Ed had not had many sweets at all during his recovery. The pie had been greeted with laughter and smiles.

Pinako looked at Ed with a scolding eye. "If you start to feel pain in the leg, you be sure to stop."

"Sure," Ed blurted, as the old woman's words flew out the other ear unheeded.

He shook off Winry, and took a step forward. Then another, then another. The automail foot scraped across the floor. It was more like dragging a leaden weight then walking, Ed mused. Clink, scrape, thunk. Clink, scrape, thunk. A tight, pulling feeling gripped his thigh, but he ignored it. He stumbled as his foot caught on an uneven floorboard.

"Careful!" Winry burst out. She was holding out her arms towards him, following him with hands poised, ready to catch him at a moments notice. "If you feel unsteady, tell me. It will hurt if you fall – "

"I will not fall."

Gazing across the room, Ed latched on to the sight of the reinforcement Winry had laid out for him. Not the pie, but the person holding the pie. The massive armor suit, cold and hard, covered with spikes and set with empty, slitted eyes. Ed imagined how that face used to look, before being dragged away by swarms of grasping black fingers. He remembered the smile, the chubby young face, the wide innocent eyes. All ripped away into the void.

I won't let you be taken from me. Not like her.

He didn't remember when he had started moving again, but he was now walking faster than before, a clumsy stilted gait that sent spears of pain through his leg.

"Ed, stop!"

The voice tore through him, but he didn't listen. He was barely aware of the blood seeping out from his reopened scars, cracked from the pressure. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was Al.

Winry's hand took his left arm. "Ed, you're bleeding. You need to – Ed!" He wrenched himself from her grasp, the action sending him off balance. He swayed, staggering to the side, vision blurring from disorientation. Just when he was about to tumble off his feet, he bumped right into something solid. Two huge arms lurched out to catch him.

"Brother?"

Ed blinked. Colors swirled and danced before his eyes. The first thing he saw, as the painful haze receded, was a pie plate lying overturned on the floor. And then a sound… What was that dull thumping noise?

"Al?"

As Ed gathered his senses, he found himself slumped against Al, who apparently had jumped up to catch him as he began to fall. Winry and Pinako fussed about him, pressing gauze against the frayed strips of skin on his thigh, but their words made only distant babbling. All noise was drowned out by the rhythmic thumps beating out a mantra in Ed's left ear as it rested against the smooth armor chestplate.

It took Ed a full minute to comprehend that what he heard was a heartbeat, a warm, steady pulsation full of life and energy. Just soon enough after to quash his rising elation, he realized that the sound was merely the echo of his own heartbeat, reverberating within the hollow shell of his little brother.