Something about these made me want to do more. So, here we go!

.Eleven.

"I caught the bigger fish!" Edward proclaims, holding his fish up high so his mother can look at it.

"No, I did!" Al says and holds his up also.

"Well I think they both look great," Trisha says proudly. "I'll make sure they're put to good use."

"Measure them! Measure them!" protests the elder Elric. It seems he is adamant on being the 'winner' of this little competition he's put together in his head. "I think mine is bigger."

"Nu-uh," says Al. "My fish weighs a lot more than yours."

"That doesn't mean it's longer. That is what counts."

"You're changing it now because mine is heavier! If yours was heavier you would say that would count more instead," argues Al, fuming. It seems he doesn't want to lose to his brother -- yet again -- even if it's something as silly as fishing on a Sunday afternoon.

"It's the length that counts. It's always been that way."

"Always? Since when?"

"I dunno, way back."

"You weren't even there! You're only nine!"

"You weren't there either so you can't say it hasn't always been that way," smartly replies Edward, a smug smile on his face as though this automatically makes him victorious.

"Let me measure them," sighs Trisha since she's had enough of this bickering. She takes hold of the two fish and takes them to the kitchen and she can hear Alphonse reiterating his point of view. Edward is the only one who can ever get him this heated up since he's rather complacent otherwise. Then, when Edward is heated up, Al is the only one who can calm him down.

She takes out her ruler and lets out a small laugh. She says loudly, "Come here boys! I have a surprise!"

Both boys come rushing into the kitchen on account of this surprise. She turns around and holds out her measuring tape so they can read it.

"Nine inches?" They echo.

"Who had the nine inches?" ask Edward excitedly.

"Well, to tell the truth, you both did," Trisha says with a smile. "They measure exactly the same. I guess you two were so riled up that you didn't notice they were exactly the same."

Both are silent at this for a moment until Al exclaims, "Ha! Mine's heavier!"

.Twelve.

"I'm stuck!"

"No you're not, now climb down. I did, so you can too," Edward surmises, his arms crossed in front of him with impatience.

Alphonse clings to his branch for dear life. He looks down to the ground, all nine feet separating him, and he doesn't feel as though jumping is a wise thing to do. He knows he should slowly make his way across the branch again and slide down . . . but the splinters. Al shivers at the thought of it.

"Go get mom to bring the ladder," says Al, hoping this will solve his problem.

"Climb down, Al. You don't need the ladder."

"I don't want to climb down!"

Edward snorts. "You have do a lot of things you don't want to do."

"Come on, brother, please get the ladder?" Al seems close to begging.

The older Elric sighs and says, "How about this. You jump down-"

"No!"

"You didn't let me finish!" He snaps. "Jump down and I'll catch you."

Al blinks dumbly. He sends his brother a look that merely says 'Are you stupid?' and he says nothing in reply. Edward holds out his arms, a lopsided frown on his face, waiting for his little brother to jump.

"Come on Al. I'll catch you, I swear," promises Edward sincerely. He doesn't think of how the wind is going to come rushing out of his lungs once Al plummets down on him but he doesn't really care. He could get the ladder but if Al is going to climb up the tree with him with no qualms, he's going to have to get down the usual way too. After all, if Edward can do it, Al can too (even if there are some awful splinters in his hands he'll have to pick out later).

Alphonse swings his legs off, letting his trembling hands grip onto the limb. He looks down to check that Edward is beneath him and with one huge gulp of air he lets go. He drops down towards his older brother, who is not prepared for Alphonse's full weight crashing in to him. Edward becomes sprawled out on the grass, any air in his lungs suddenly gone. His little brother is on top of him questioning whether he's committed murder via falling on someone.

"Brother? Are you okay?" Al asks, rolling off of his elder sibling quickly.

After a moment to catch his breath, Edward gasps, "You . . . should have . . . climbed down."

.Thirteen.

Al's love of kittens flourishes when, at six, his mother reluctantly allows the helpless felines into the house. The mother cat comes in, with her four kittens in tow, from the field Al and Ed have been playing in all day. Al is joyful when the kittens get to stay in their room provided that they made sure they stayed in their box.

Edward, suffice to say, was not as excited as his younger brother.

This is where Edward's dislike of kitten flourishes when, at night, they begin to mewl and cry when their mother goes in the corner to use the litter box they've left out for her. He tries to put a pillow over his head hoping when they have their mother back that they'll stop crying but it's to no avail. They keep crying!

"Al, can't you hear that?" Edward snaps, sitting straight up with an angry expression.

"They're hungry, brother, that's all," Al explains.

"Make them shutup!"

"They'll be okay in a while."

"A 'while' won't let me go to sleep," he grumbles.

"They're just kittens. They can't help it."

Edward suggests, "They should be in a different room."

To this Al replies hotly, "Well why don't you go to another room?"

Instead of arguing more, he takes this hint, and gathers his blanket and pillow in an act of open defiance against his brother's stupid cats. It's a childish way to end things since this is his room and he has every right to it, but if Al wants him out he's not about to stay.

He takes up occupancy on the couch in the front room. It's not as uncomfortable as most would think. The couch is soft enough that he can sink in it as though he's in his own bed. Edward curls up in his blanket and doesn't have a second thought about his room, other than noting how he prefers this silence to the constant meowing those darn kittens make.

The boy falls into a peaceful sleep.

Edward isn't sure when he fell asleep but he knows it's awfully dark in the living room when he's woken up, the moon being the only light coming through the windows. He's groggy and has to rub his eyes to wake up.

"What? Al?"

"Hi, brother," He says shyly.

Edward notes in his mind that Al shouldn't wake him this late into the night "What are you doing? Why aren't you sleeping?" The first answer that comes to life is that they cats have disturbed him too, and that he wants to sleep on the other end of the couch. Ha! No way.

This doesn't ring true. Al replies, "Well, um, I couldn't sleep without you in there, brother."

"Huh?"

"I'm used to you in the room. It's empty if you're not in there . . . " Al clarifies. "I can't sleep. The kittens are quiet now. I'll get Mom to move them in her room later, okay? Just come back and sleep in your bed. I'm sorry."

Edward doesn't feel much like getting up but his brother's large eyes are almost pleading for him to come back to his bed. They also speak of regret for suggesting that he move out just because he doesn't approve of the kittens. But he's so tired . . .

"Okay, fine. Tomorrow night. I'm tired so I wanna go back to sleep here."

"But brother-"

He's quickly persuaded by the whiny tone he loathes to hear, so he gathers up his things a second time and takes them back to his bed. It doesn't take Al more than a minute to go back to sleep and, by luck, the kittens are quiet, so Edward is able to fall asleep too.

.Fourteen.

Edward tries to control his reactions but everytime thunder roars in the sky, he brings himself into a tighter ball on his bed. He tries to put his pillow over his head to block out the obnoxiously loud booms but it was to no avail. In a final act of desperation the eight year old hides under his blanket as though this will make the thunder stop.

Stupid weather, he hisses in his mind. I hate it, I hate it!

He's just glad Al is sleeping so he doesn't see his brother in such a scared disposition.

Another thunder crackles in the sky and he only flinches this time. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of something happy so he doesn't focus on his fear.

And this is why, when there's a rough tug on his blanket, that he lets out a surprised yelp.

"Aaah!"

"Brother, shh! It's just me," Al whispers. "Don't wake mom."

Edward rips the blanket off of his head. Despite his mop of hair sticking out at funny odd angles on his head he manages to pull off an angry face.

"I only yelled 'cause you didn't say anything. Don't just pull on my blanket when you know I was trying to sleep," snaps Edward. His fear has made him more than a bit grumpy.

Al doesn't try to point out how he wasn't sleeping, he was hiding. He sighs and holds out two small puffs of cotton. "Use these as ear plugs. Then you can sleep."

"Oh." Edward stares dumbly at the balls of cotton for a moment then takes them. "Thanks. Don't know why I didn't think of that . . . "

"Night, brother," Al says and takes residency in his own bed.

Edward stuffs the cotton in his ears and the total silence surprises him. It's very odd for a moment, he briefly wants to pull them since it's frightening to lose your hearing, but he forces himself to close his eyes and relax. Soon enough he falls asleep, thankful that Al watches out for him, even in the night.

.Fifteen.

When you're the oldest you naturally assume the responsibility for your younger siblings. You fill in when your parents aren't there, provide them guidance and protection, and most importantly a strong bond. Then, when the parents come home, the oldest sibling of the family can stop being the responsible one.

The parent-child roles, however, are often misconstrued when one of the parents is missing.

Edward carries the burden of being the oldest in the family - therefore he must be the male role model in Al's life. It doesn't matter if he's only a year older than him or if he hasn't the experience a grown adult has. Nor does it matter if it's not fair for him to have to undertake this position.

It's true that Al and Ed have their mother to look out for them but life isn't complete without a father there.

Edward still tries to fill the void for Al. He's always being there for him, trying to get him to do the right things, and always protecting him from others even when they are twice his size. Yet he always remembers that he is only the brother and hands off the duty to their mother when it becomes too much.

Ed doesn't like the word 'burden' for this, though. Even if someone is going to use the word burden, it doesn't make it bad. It's something he's glad to have. He happy to be there for his little brother and Edward is positive Al feels the same way for him.

.Sixteen.

All Edward knows is that he can't lose him.

"AL!"

"BROTHER, HELP!"

No, no, no. This can not be happening. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. We're supposed to be happy again. We were going to be a family again.

I can't let him die for my mistake. Edward feels a certain self-loathing begin to rise but he will not let this distract him. I'll give something up. I'll give anything up. Just, please, don't let him die.

Transmutation circle. Bind his soul into something, he thinks quickly. He only has seconds to act. Transmute his soul. Transmute him into . . .

His gaze settles on the armor suit not to far away. He has no time to think of what will happen to Al once he settles into this hollow body. All Edward can think is that he cannot (no, he will not) lose another family member.

Al is all he has left and he isn't willing to let him go, even if it means binding him to a suit of armor, his entire existence going to be unfeeling and numb.

To this day he isn't sure if is an act of love or selfishness.

To Al, it doesn't really matter, because he knows his brother made a sacrifice to save him. To him it is the purest love there is.

.Seventeen.

"Aaaaah!" Al jumps back from the bushes when someone pops out unexpectedly. When the bush had rustled to get his attention he had been suspecting an animal, hopefully a cat, but instead a human jumps out from the thicket with a yell.

Al lands on his butt and stares up at Edward, whom has leafs stuck in his hair and twigs sticking out of his clothes, but despite his foolish appearance he's laughing loudly.

"Brother, that's horrible!" Al snaps, embarrassed.

"You should have seen the look on your face! Oh, that was great," Edward exclaims, still chuckling.

"Well you look stupider than I did so I wouldn't laugh," huffs Al as he gets up, beginning to chuckle also, only this at his brother's state.

There's nothing he can say because he knows he must look ridiculous. This immediately shuts Edward up and he begins to pick out the foliage and sticks from his person so other people don't have a good laugh too while he walks home.

.Eighteen.

Seven year old Edward knows not to talk to strangers. His mother hasn't given him specifics on why strangers are dangerous, just that they are, and that if they try to take you you should scream and kick.

So when he see's his little brother has wandered off with some unknown man he's immediately suspicious. It's not to far away, about five feet, but the man is talking animatedly and is ruffling his brother's hair. After collecting the dozen eggs their mother sent them to fetch, he walks over to the man and steps in front of Al, successfully knocking the man's hand away.

The man smiles brightly his black bangs getting in his eyes. Although there's nothing threatening about him Edward knows his mother warned him for a reason.

"We have to go home," Ed says over his shoulder to Al. He hopes this guy can get the hint and leave.

"He has a brand new litter of kittens, brother! I want to go see them. He says I can," whines Alphonse.

Ah, only five minutes of conversation and his gullible brother is already in by this guy.

"You should come see them too," the man says with a welcoming, warm voice.

"No, we have to go," he says authoritatively.

"Don't be in such a rush kiddo," says the man, "I'm Brenton. I know Al's name but what's yours?"

Ever the sarcastic one Edward replies, "Ficklestein Shlegenhiemer. We're leaving. Now." He emphasizes his last word by grabbing Al's hand starting to half-walk, half-run down the road.

"Give your kittens pats for me!" Al shouts to Brenton.

Brenton only gives a half-hearted wave. His shoulders are slumped in disappointment.

This tells Edward that he made the right decision and that he should really drill it into Al's mind not to talk to strangers, even if they do have kittens.

.Nineteen.

Trisha watches as her boys splash eachother in the bathtub. They're only four and three so they don't mind being bathed at the same time. Then again if they weren't bathed at the same time they wouldn't have fight over who gets which toy. The toy boat is deemed 'cooler' and the rubber ducky, by Edward's words, "A baby toy."

When Edward finally succeeds in taking the toy ship Al screeches loudly that it's his. It's a quick reminder of how Al is going through his "mine" phase. This bowl is "mine," this toy is "mine," this blanket is "mine," and this side of the bathtub is "mine." It never ends.

Not to mention Edward does not want to cooperate and assist in doing laundry. He's stubborn and would rather play. Trisha's only trying to teach him responsibility at a young age but he'd rather sit and do nothing (ex: time out for being mouthy) than do laundry.

Nevertheless, she wouldn't give anything up for motherhood.

If only Hoenheim was here to enjoy a family . . . but if he hasn't come back after four years, it isn't likely that her boys will ever have a father.

This only makes her more determined to love her children (even when they throw toys at eachother in the bathtub).

.Twenty.

The loss of innocence is tragic.

The first thought that strikes Edward's mind is, We're orphans. We're not just fatherless . . . we're orphans.

The death of their mother has struck the very last nerve in each boy. Alphonse is almost hollow, lifeless, and any talk of his mother makes tears roll down his face. Edward is having no better time in dealing with his overwhelming emotions. He's constantly moody and visits her grave every day for a week. He refuses to be comforted by Winry or Pinako. It seems as though he wishes to grieve alone.

He isn't alone though when Al joins him on the seventh day of visiting the grave. Al can't stop himself from crying. He wants to be stoic like this elder brother, who looks more enraged than sad, but he can't help aching horribly for their loss.

"W-What will we do without her?" He sobs, wiping away his tears.

"We won't, Al," He says, his fists shaking. "We're going to bring her back."

"What?"

"Human transmutation," He whispers.

"B-But that's-"

"Dangerous? Yeah, it is, but we can't survive without her Al! We just can't!" He shouts.

"Brother, I miss her too, but it's against the law of nature. And what about equivalent exchange?" He reminds his brother hesitantly. Al doesn't want to state this because part of him wants to jump at the chance to bring his mother back, but there is a logical side to him, one that is stronger than Ed's that is screaming for everything to come to a halt. "It's so dangerous and . . . I-I can't loose you too."

Edward glances at his younger brother and the determination is never going to become deterred.

"We'll need training," Edward says. "We're going to have to do a lot of things to reach that point . . . but we have to."

Alphonse knows his brother well enough to realize when his mind is made up. So, tentatively, he nods. He knows they'll probably wish later down the road that they haven't done this. But when he looks at the grave in front of him . . . of his mother buried six feet under . . . it is enough to drive two lonely sons to do anything.

IIIII

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