He watches it with a sort of sick fascination.

As each ruby drop slips down the miniscule tube his golden eyes follow it, traveling down the glass. It's times like this that I am almost frightened of my brother, thinking that his sanity had left him and all that was left was an obsessed shell, casting away all rationality to sit and just look.

It is strange to think that he is only sixteen. Yes he looks like his age, but when he is like this, he looks old and weary, as if the burden on his shoulders were crushing him to death. He shoulders on however, not caring about himself and focusing mainly on me. Sometimes, when it his silent, he just sits and stares at me, as if the adoration in his eyes would shed away the armor like a shell and reveal the child beneath, frightened and alone. It is his obsession, to have me whole again, I am his obsession.

The look on his face makes me feel sick to my stomach. He stares, mouth open slightly, faint breath fogging up the glass, molten golden eyes wide and reflecting the red liquid that ran down the window in streams. He is strong, he is fearless, but he is sick nonetheless. It is like a disease that grows in him, spearing and swallowing his heart and leaving an empty cage behind.

I'd like to think there's something in that cage. Like a small golden flower blooming out of a pile of dust. You can see the flower in his eyes, if you look hard enough. It blooms and shines when he is happy, you see droplets run off its petals when he cries. I have seen the flower before, but lately it has been sheltered, tucked away inside.

The droplets hit the flower when Nina was transmuted; it shook and blackened when she died. I saw it shiver when the Colonel approached him in the rain, telling him he couldn't save everyone, he couldn't bring everyone back to life, he couldn't play god.

The Colonel had turned and walked away, and though I know the dark haired man hadn't seen it, I had. The flower twitched and lifted, like it was awakening for the first time. I could see a sort of saneness reflect in Ed's eyes for a moment, and I'm sure the flower brightened.

His human fingers brush against the glass, as if he could feel the warm residue that poured on the other side of the window. A small, barely noticeable, smile curves his chapped lips. It is insane and if I had a body I would shiver. I want to scream at him, to shake his shoulders and just scream at him. I cry quietly, and for a moment I wish I could feel the tears stream down my face, just for a moment, just so brother can see.

He is kneeling in front of the window, hands placed on the glass, staring through it with that twisted half-smile. I sit against the wall, I don't dare approach him, the last time he was like this and I tried to approach him he had turned to me with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Don't you see it Al?"

He had whispered.

"Don't you see it?"

I was scared then.

"I don't see it," I had said, very quietly.

Edward had slowly turned back to the window and said under his breath, as a hushed whisper that was concealed and confidential-

"I see it"

I try to muffle my sobs; I stuff my large gloved hands against my helmet as I cry. It does not make a difference, what mouth is there to muffle? But I'd like to think it makes some difference. Edward turned to me and left the window, left that god-forsaken window. He knelt beside me and stared at my helmet for a moment, before leaning forward and pulling my armor into a hug.

"I see it" I sob to him "I do"

"I know" Edward whispers. The blood pours down the window, and the screams of the thieves in the street being massacred by the Military were echoing through their room. The door opens, and the Colonel steps into the room, blood splattered on his uniform.

Edward turns to him, and I can see the flower bloom.

Fin.