"Fuck." Edward stared at his twisted, melted, completely unrepairable automail in denial. That phosphorus compound didn't really explode, did it? Of course it didn't, it couldn't have. That would mean that his automail really was destroyed, and they really did have to go see Winry, who was quite possibly the most perceptive female the world had ever known, especially when it came to the Elric brothers. The blond wilted, looking beyond the scrap metal that used to be his right arm at the absolute destruction of the alchemy lab around him. Said phosphorus-methane explosion had blasted a hole in the table, completely destroyed most of the equipment (hopefully not beyond repair, though a few of the more delicate instruments appeared unsalvageable), and erased a whole week's worth of work. This was in addition to the damages done to Edward himself, who was quite singed, and, as previously noted, missing an arm. A worried brunette poked his head in, opening the door with a foot and groaning as he saw the mess his older brother had gotten into.

"Bro-ther~! You let it get out, didn't you?" The blond looked away sheepishly, noting the small clunk as his sibling set the box of supplies down.

"You know that both phosphorus and methane are combustible and highly volatile, especially when in contact with oxygen! Why weren't you being more careful?" Despite his angry tones, Al was gentle as he examined his older brother for serious injury.

Said older brother was highly reluctant to admit that he was daydreaming about the teen who stood not five inches away, currently probing the shoulder port with fingers used to such ministrations.

"Well, at least you're not hurt... much. We're gonna need to go to Risembool." Ed wilted; not only would he get the beating of his life, but he had no excuse now to ask for a rush job, meaning he and Al would have to hide their... situation from their childhood friend for a week or more, and he would have to abandon this project for however long it took to get a new arm. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

The train ride had been uneventful; hiding their relationship in public had become second nature, although neither of them thought they were fooling Mustang. Ed chose to ignore this fact; Al just preferred not to think of it, for fear of what trouble his brother might get into if they were found out. Hopefully, Winry and Pinako would be just as blinded as the rest of the world. The key word of that thought was hopefully, of course. The arched eyebrow on Winry's frowning face showed she knew more than they wanted her to.

Or she was just trying to think of what new way Ed could possibly have found to destroy her 'precious baby,' as the automail was often referred to.

Whichever.

A bleeding, sulking Elric sat on the couch, letting Al bandage the lump on his forehead from the beating administered earlier.

"Really, Winry, I'm already injured! Did you have to hit me?" The blonde young woman nodded, chin high and stubborn before her posture softened.

"Al, lemme see him. I promise, I won't hurt the idiot any more." Winry sat beside her charge, prodding gently at the port that attached the automail to his body. The brunette glanced into his brother's eyes one last time, before smiling a bit, and leaving.

Mere moments passed between Al leaving and a loud thud coming from the next room over. Ed bolted after his little brother, hardly noticing the sting as one of the wires in his arm was wrenched awry.

The brown-haired teen was sprawled on the floor, grey-green eyes glassy, mouth parted slightly in a belatedly surprised expression. Fearful seconds (though they seemed hours to the worried Edward) passed before either conscious teen noted the slight rise and fall of the youngest's chest. A relieved sigh passed from the blond's lips as he kneeled next to Al, finding a steady, if somewhat weak, pulse in the teen's wrist. He draped an arm over his shoulders, hauling his lover to his feet, and tried to ignore the waves of guilt and 'what if's rolling through his gut.

"Let's get him to a room, hm? Or the couch." Winry blinked, mind snapping out of shock, before affirming Ed's idea and trotting off to find a blanket for her unconscious friend.

Al came to several hours later, and his first impression was yellow. Then colors resolved into definite shapes and recognizable features, and the brunette realized he was staring into his brother's face... which was about two inches away. The younger Elric blinked a few times, reacquainting his eyes to the lovely concept of vision, and sat up. Alphonse realized that someone had moved him to the couch in the living room, and that someone was probably Ed, who was still nearby. Swallowing something that was tasted vaguely like bile, the brown-haired teen cast through his remaining memories. Leaving Ed to get his automail fixed, planning what to make for dinner, blacking out, the Gate, that blond kid in there- wait, the Gate? Al held a quivering hand up in front of his face, shuddering as he remembered the last time he had seen that... place, perhaps, was the right word.

"This shouldn't happen anymore." His voice was quiet, almost fearful, confusing the elder boy.

"What shouldn't... oh." Quiet understanding suffused Ed's tone, and the blond leaned against the couch, resting his forehead against his brother's arm. The spells were back, those times when Al would momentarily lose consciousness... when his soul would be temporarily rejected from his body. Small shudders, suppressed feelings that the brunette couldn't identify, ran up Ed's small frame and transferred onto Al's.

"This shouldn't... I'm sorry, Al... I'm sorry, damn it. Thought I got it right, could've sworn there was nothing I missed... fuck, I should've-" The blond cut off as Al rested his forehead on Ed's.

"Brother... it's not your fault. Neither of us could have guessed. I thought I was fine; so did everyone else. I'd rather be stuck like this than have you... do that again." He referred to the events under Central reluctantly, though Al knew it was one of the few sure ways to get through to the alchemist once he started rambling. Ed's golden eyes closed as a shuddering sigh made its way out.

"Whatever you say, Al. Whatever you say."

A/Ns:

Yeah, I TOTALLY own FMA. Really. *laugh* If I was Hiromu Arakawa, would I be writing fanfiction? No. I'd be writing the new chapter. You think a manga-ka has enough time to write fanfic, anyway?

Sorry for the dramatic moment near the end... Al just kinda flopped on me and said 'DO THIS!' You all know I never deny my characters (except when they're being extraordinarily stupid), and thus he's losing his soul again.

Chapter 4 is already written and will be up as soon as I feel like it. Not nearly as long a wait as this one.

Reviews are appreciated; flames will be used to keep Mustang at bay.