.Forty One.
Thirty days abandoned on an island without using alchemy would be a feat for adults. For a nine and ten year old, it's made that much harder.
"Whoever said rubbing two sticks together makes fire lied!" exclaims Edward as he throws his stick into the bushes.
"Brother, you're supposed to do it like this." The younger Elric demonstrates by setting the bottom of his stick on the log, then quickly turning it back and forth with his palms. He holds the log steady by placing his feet on either side. It takes a minute to combust but a small lick of fire spurts forth. He blows on it and it rises even more. "See?"
"Don't look so happy. All that means is you're on the same level as a caveman," grunts Edward crossly.
.Forty Two.
Trisha Elric is hardly an angry person. She likes to solve problems through talking, not arguing. She's not one to resort to raising her voice.
But right now she's positively furious.
"How dare you unleash your dogs on my children!" She shouts. Trisha places herself protectively in front of her boys.
"They were on my property," snarls the owner. He's a middle-aged man with glasses, a farmer named Willus. His hands are wrapped around the leashes keeping his dogs at bay, though they are growling at the terrified children.
"You're lucky they weren't bit," says Trisha curtly.
"I got scratches," Al voices and holds out his forearm. Three diagonal, red scratches adorn the skin of the six year old.
"I had to pull the brown one off of him!" angrily snaps Edward. "I shoulda got a stick and hit him!"
"I have a right to defend my land against little brats like them," Willus says. "They shouldn't have come near my barn."
"They were just curious!" Trisha states firmly. "Edward and Alphonse have never caused any problems for this town. You had no right, Willus, you're just too proud to admit it. But what if they were seriously injured? Could you have lived with yourself?"
Even Willus is surprised by the ire in her voice. He shakes his head and says, "If they stay away I won't do it again. I didn't mean to loose control of Buster and get the little boy hurt. I just wanted to scare 'em."
"Job well done. You've scared a six and seven year old out of their minds. Are you happy now?"
"Mom, I wanna go in the house," says Al. His wary gaze is settled on the large brown dog who had pinned him down before. Luckily Edward had saved him and the other two dogs had been caught by Willus. The brown dog had followed them all of the way home which has led them to this confrontation.
"You'll be safe inside or out Al," comforts Trisha. She turns around to look at her sons and smiles. "I won't let them hurt either of you."
"Lets go in the house," says Edward to his mother, being a pacifist for once. "It ain't worth it."
"You're completely right Ed," agrees Trisha. She looks over her shoulder at the farmer and says, "Nothing is worth the safety of two children."
Trisha leads them into the house, ignoring the words of half-hearted apologies from Willus. He's probably never going to be truly sorry until he has children of his own. Even someone as kindhearted as Trisha can turn into a force to be reckoned with when her precious offspring are involved.
.Forty Three.
"Um, brother, I heard the slide was broken," voices Al hesitantly.
Edward stops where he's climbing, half way up the ladder now, and stares down at his brother. "If you want a turn you're gonna wait. I got here first," he says.
"No, really. Tanya said that Morris said that Mr.--"
"I don't care what Bunion and Torris--" ("Tanya and Morris, brother . . . ") "--said. They just want the slide for themselves."
"But what if they were right?"
Edward chooses to over look his brother's warnings. He climbs to the top, plops his butt at the start of it, and slowly descends. It's when he reaches halfway that he realizes that something isn't right. In fact the left slide has lost it's screws where it connects with the ladder, so, by Edward's weight, the left side of the slide disconnects with the ladder making is hang lazily to the left. Edward topples over the side of the slide and connects head-first with the ground.
"I dunno if it was broken, brother," teases Alphonse, trying to hold back his chuckles. "It coulda been your fat butt."
Edward rubs at his sore forehead and sends his younger brother a harsh glare. "I'm never gonna go above ground again," he mutters.
.Forty Four.
"This is the song that never ends. Yes it goes on and on my friends," sings Al. "At first people sang it not knowing what it was, but they kept on singing it forever just because this is the song that never--"
"Augh! Whoever taught you that song needs a kick in the head!" Edward shouts, running down the road.
"You can't outrun me!" Al shouts. He starts to jog, staying a foot or so behind his brother, going on to sing, "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves and this is how it goes: I know a song that gets on--"
"Or maybe I'll just kick you in the head!" threatens the older Elric.
Al grins at his brother wickedly. "Miss Susie had a tug boat, the tug boat had a bell. Miss Susie when to heaven, the tug boat when to hell-o operator--"
"If you drive me insane I hope the voices tell me to hurt you first," calls Edward over his shoulder.
"You were insane before I started driving, brother," replies Al. "Anyway . . . hell-o operator, give me number nine, and if you disconnect me I'll kick you in the behind the refrigerator, there was a piece of glass. Miss Susie sat upon it and broke her little a--"
"Let's just hope you drive into a ditch and your vocal cords gets broken," mutters Ed bitterly.
.Forty Five.
Alphonse is pretty sure that if he lets go of the horse's mane he will fall to his death.
"You're doing fine honey," says Trisha, guiding the horse by the reins. She glances at Ed, who has a wide grin plastered on his face, as the horse strides next to them. "Edward's doing good too. See how he's sitting straight? Your horse will like it better if you do that."
"I'm gonna fall," he mumbles.
"No you're not. I won't let you." She stops the horse to look at her younger son. She puts her hands under his arms and gently lifts him into the upright position, hoping her warm smile will be enough to get rid of his fright.
"I don't like horses," says Al. "Can't we go pet cats instead?"
"Horses are very nice animals, Al. And you can ride one with ease. Now come on, you can do it," Trisha says encouragingly. She hands the six year old the reins and guides him along, slowly.
Al looks at this surroundings and it appears that he's looking down from a height of fifty feet. "It's so high off the ground."
"It's not that far," says Ed. "And we've just got one more lap to go before we're done. I bet I can race you!"
"Edward--" Trisha begins before Ed kicks his heels on the horses sides, pulling on the reigns, and this sends the horse darting forth. "Edward! Stop!"
What Edward doesn't realize is that with every gallop, he's slowly sliding off. The idiotic move he makes is when he throws his hands into the air with a declaration of, "I'm gonna win! I'm gonna win! I'm gonna--"
Ultimately he slips off. There's no worse spot that he could have fell off, really, because he lands right into a pile of horse dung. Upon seeing this Trisha runs to her fallen son, who's seething with rage. Al suddenly gets rid of his fear of heights and jumps off his horse, scratching his knees on impact, but ignores this as he runs over to his brother.
"You okay brother?"
By this time Ed has gotten out of the manure and Trisha is trying to wipe it off with a handkerchief. Ultimately, she just pulls his shirt off. It's a nice summers day so Edward can go shirtless. As for his shorts . . . that's a lost cause until they return home.
"I reek of poo! How do ya think I'm doing?"
"Crappy," he puns with a grin.
"Hardy har har, Al," Ed grumbles irritably.
.Forty Six.
"Do you ever wonder what dad is doing?"
"No."
Al's shoulders sag slightly. He knows this is a touchy subject with Edward but he needs to talk about this with somebody. He'd go to their mother but he doesn't want to burden her with his thoughts. Al knows she thinks about him enough; she doesn't need another reminder of how he's left. It just bothers him so much that on their way to school he brings it up.
"Why, brother?"
"I hate him."
"I know that but--"
"Can't you see what he's done to mom?" snaps Ed, his footsteps now turning into stomps from pure anger. "He's made her miserable! She can't hide it all the time and he's made her feel that way."
"I don't remember him at all. It's not fair."
"I disagree," says Edward with a harsh bitterness. "It's harder when you know he was there and that he supposedly loved youand then just . . . !"
He takes his frustration out on a nearby tree. He punches it as hard as he can, all of his fury, vehemence, and hatred at his father wrapped into one hit. He brings his fist back and his knuckles are bleeding from the blow.
"Brother . . . " Al looks very concerned about his knuckles but Edward shrugs it off, walking down the road without a hint of pain as his hands become fists again.
He dourly adds as they approach school. "You're lucky, Al. You can't miss what you never had."
.Forty Seven.
"Let me out! Let me out!"
Claustrophobia. Darkness. Help. Help!
"Please . . . "
The sound of his hands slapping the door and jiggling the handle reverberate around the cramped janitors closet. How this came about is their group was discussing fears before lunch, and Al decided to say, "I have a bad fear of the dark."
Where's Ed? He should notice me gone!
It's his only hope to get out of here. Atleast, until the kid holding the door handle gets bored enough to let him out. By the sounds of it they're still calling him a wuss and mocking his pleas for release. Al doesn't want to frantically beg to be let out. All it's doing is feeding their sadistic pleasure.
Al tries to control his breathing so he's calmer.
There's nothing bad in here, he repeats in the privacy of his own mind. Nothing can get me. I will be okay. They can't keep me in here forever.
What snaps him out of his mantra is his brother's voice, loud and clear over everything.
"Is Al in there?" Ed's voice is dripping with venom.
"So what?" A kid snaps.
"Let him out or I will shove your nose into that empty space where your brain should be."
"Oooh, I'm so scared," laughs another child. "Big bad Edwardo is gonna beat me up!"
"It's Edward!"
There's a bang on the door. Al jumps back, wondering if this is his brother pounding on the door. He soon comes to the conclusion that he shoved whatever kid had called him Edwardo into the door.
"Nice going brother!" encourages Al. "But can you let me out?"
The door swings open and to Al's surprise there's no one there but his brother. With a startled expression he walks out, peering on either side of the hallway for his tormentors, then lets out a mile-long sigh of relief.
"Thank you," he breathes. "I hated that."
"So did I," agrees Ed. "But I punched Ben right in the stomach. You should have seen his face though, when I did. It was like a clown mated with a pig. All surprised and fat."
Alphonse laughs at this. His brother always knows how to make him laugh, even after something as terrifying as being trapped in a closet.
.Forty Eight.
"What's your biggest fear, brother?"
Great. Another late night chat with Alphonse.
"That a meteor will fall out of the sky and crush me."
"I'm serious!" snaps Al.
"Hey, it could happen," he retorts. "Meteors fall all of the time."
"I've never heard that."
"That's because you have a short attention span," says Ed, trying to veer off course of talking about his greatest fears. "One dropped not too long ago a little bit away. We could be next."
"Really?" squeaks the gullible younger brother.
"Really."
"That's going on my fear list too, then."
The silence thus proves that, yes, Al has a short attention span.
Edward sighs and says, "Good night Al. And don't try to wake me up. If you say 'Are you awake, brother?' more than once, no, I am not awake."
.Forty Nine.
There is only one piece of pie left and each brother has their eye on it. They look at eachother from across the table, gauging their reactions to see who's going to reach for it first.
"I should get it because I'm older," declares Edward.
"I should get it because I helped mom with the laundry."
"I cleaned the front room yesterday."
"I got an A on my math test."
"Liar! You got an A-!"
"It's still an A!" disputes Al crossly.
Edward scoffs at this. "I get A's all the time."
"Yeah, when it stands for ass."
"You swore!" says Ed triumphantly. He leans forward to snatch the piece of pie in victory but Al pulls it away. "Hey! That's mine now!"
"You're the one that taught me that word so it's not my fault," says the younger brother smugly.
Edward sits down in his seat and seethes. He's soon rewarded when Trisha comes into the kitchen and clucks her tongue.
"Al, don't eat that. That's my piece."
There's nothing that Al can say to this. He hands the plate to his mother, a solemn look on his face. It's a big contrast to the grin Edward has now.
As soon as Trisha leaves the room Ed chuckles. "I guess you're the ass now."
.Fifty.
"This is a dreamcatcher," says Trisha as she hangs it from the nail. It's hanging above the window in the boy's bedroom and it matches the one in her room. She smiles as young children look up at it, most likely trying to understand what a dreamcatcher actually does. "This takes all of your nightmares away and gives you peace."
"Does it take away the good dreams?" asks Edward.
"No, it leaves them behind for you to cherish."
"I want my good dreams forever," says Alphonse. "I don't want you or brother to go away."
"We're always here when you wake up," Trisha says.
"You're there after nightmares too," reminds Al, knowing he can go either to his mother or brother after this occurs. "But I like that. Maybe I dun want them to go away."
"Why? I hate nightmares," says Ed.
"'Cause if the nightmares go away, so does the stuff after, and I like that."
"You can always come to me for the afterwards," says Trisha. "Both of you. Even if you do have a nightmare that the dreamcatcher doesn't snatch, you can come to me."
"What if you have a nightmare, mom?" inquires Ed. "Our beds aren't that big."
"I'm a big girl. I can handle them," she responds. "Besides I don't have that many."
"What happens in your nightmares?" asks Al.
Trisha doesn't respond for a moment. She's not sure that she can come up with one off the top of her head. Soon she reaches something that plagues her horribly, although she's positive that it will never come to fruition.
"That you both are gone," she whispers. "That would be the hardest thing to endure."
"We'd miss you a lot," Edward says, hoping to comfort his mom. "So we ain't going nowhere soon."
She ruffles her oldest sons hair lovingly. "Me either. We have many, many years until that time comes. And when it does, I want you both to hold your heads high and lead good lives. Understand?"
The two boys nod, not really comprehending the serious tone she's using. Trisha really does mean these words: if, god forbid, something should ever happen to her . . . all she wants is for them to be able to continue their lives. There's nothing more that she wants other than for them to be happy. It's simple, really, and that's the beauty of it.
There's nothing that is better than a mothers love. Although, a love between brothers is a close second.
End.