Familiar Strangers: Part 2
Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction
by The Cinderninja

Alfons' first clue came during breakfast one morning. Ed was staring at his food rather then eating it, so Al knew he was in one of 'those' moods. It would be one of his quiet brooding days where he sat in the study and read and drew circles and wouldn't talk to anybody.

But then he had haltingly announced "I'm... not your brother." He said it as if he was unsure of his wording. Like he wasn't exactly sure whether he was trying to sound sure of himself, or guilty, or nervous. He said it as if it was something that he'd thought should have been so obvious that no one would need to say it out loud, but it was so important that he still needed to ask, just to make sure, even if it made him look silly.

Alfons stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to look up, but he never did. So he sighed instead. "I'm sorry." He replied, and the apology seemed to confuse Ed. Then he stood up and cleared his plate. "Is that all?"

Ed's eyes flashed as something in their conversation seemed familiar to him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again. He sat there staring at the table in silence. Alfons waited. After a long silence, he continued. "I have no idea what happened to you, Ed, but I hope that someday you'll decide to tell me." And he left the room.

Right as he was passing Ed, he barely managed to pick up "I will" but said nothing of it. He recognized that resolve, and knew that eventually, he would learn what had left his brother so defeated and unsure of himself.

A few days later, Ed tried again.

"I must look an awful lot like him."

Al looked up, but didn't say anything. Ed was brooding again.

"I mean, you do- that is. I remind you of your brother, okay. And you remind me of mine. But I'm not him. And you've been letting me stay here, and you've been putting up with me, but it's all under a pretense, and it isn't true. So you should know that."

And he sat with a stiff back, and rigid shoulders, and he was making eye contact though it was obvious he wanted to be looking anywhere but Al's eyes. And Alfons had no idea what to make of Ed's statement. So he reached over and rested his right hand on top of Ed's own, which made Ed flinch, and he leaned in to Ed's stare, and he said "I don't care what's happened. You're still Edward."

And Ed said, "I'm not who you think I am."

And Al said, "You're my brother."

And Ed got angry and pulled his hand away, and walked off to brood in the other room.

And Al sat at the table for a little while longer and wondered what he must have done wrong, and what must have happened to Ed to make him feel that way.


Ed tried to make Alfons understand. He really did. Because after the conversation they'd had the other day, he realized he really was taking advantage of this boy. He'd been drawn to him because he wore Al's face, but Ed knew they weren't the same person, and it was wrong, wrong, so wrong, so stay here and let him think he was his brother. He knew he must look like Alfons' brother – it made sense, with all of the doppelgangers he'd seen, that he himself would have one – but he wasn't that person.

He didn't know who Alfons' real brother was or what he was like or where he may be. But it was wrong to go on letting Al think that they were the same person. Would he be willing to share his home and his food and his books with Ed if he knew who he really was? And what if the real Edward Heiderich ever showed up?

So he had to try again. This time he spent more time thinking about it. He couldn't just go around denying to be the person that he very obviously was.

The next conversation went something like this.

"Alfons... I'm not whoever you think I am. I can't be."

And Alfons thought This again... but he didn't say anything out loud because as strange as these talks with Ed were, he felt like he was slowly but surely getting to the heart of things, and the truth behind what was wrong with Ed, so he didn't want to dissuade him from talking.

"Tell me why."

"I'm not even from this world."

Ed explained everything. He left nothing out. And in the story that followed, Al finally began to see the truth of things. He understood that perhaps Ed really had been in some sort of terrible accident, and he hadn't walked away as unscathed as it had at first appeared. Not all damage had to be physical, after all.

And that was when Alfons first started to feel the coldness somewhere inside him that came with the thought that maybe he really had lost his brother after all. But he pushed that thought somewhere deep, deep down, where it wouldn't bother him.

Because Ed was still in there. That much was obvious.

In the stories he started to tell about Edward and Alphonse Elric, and of a magic called alchemy, and a whole world that was the same but different, Alfons could still hear it. Underneath his shame and insistence that he wasn't Alfons' brother, and fantastic stories that he swore were the truth, was someone who was still very much Edward.

A boy who had a constant thirst for knowledge, and a stubborn streak, and determination that made it impossible to keep him from reaching his goals. And who loved his younger brother more than anything. These were all things that Alfons was familiar with.

A boy who did alchemy, and tried to bring back his dead mother, and who trapped his brother in a suit of armor. These were things that troubled Alfons, because he didn't understand how Ed could speak so freely of them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

At first Alfons wondered if maybe his brother was being intentionally difficult, if this were perhaps some sort of prank or a scheme of his. But he dismissed that thought. Ed would not have let it go on for as long as it had. And where did that leave Alfons? With a brother who barely knew him.

It was just like how some things Ed did filled Alfons with such a sense of familiarity that it hurt, and yet some things were so utterly alien to him that it made him pause and think maybe this really was some other person. Some of the things about Al were just so Alphonse that it was almost unbearable. Ed didn't even know if his younger brother was still alive. He didn't know if he was still in armor, or if he'd gotten his body back. And not knowing killed Ed. But to see Al reflected so plainly in Alfons was worse. And then to be reminded that it wasn't the same person.

Alfons' lack of imagination and whimsy. His loyalty to Ed even when Ed insisted he should have none. His eyes were too blue and his hair was too blond. His intelligence was still there. He took things too seriously. He had the same laugh. He refused to accept alchemy as a possibility. But he was still a scientist. And that shy smile that reached his eyes and made them sparkle - it was exactly the same.

Ed's odd accent that didn't sound like it came from London. He always had his nose in a book. His eyes were gold instead of hazel. A familiar fire still burned within them. His obsession with alchemy. He was still brilliant underneath it all. He spoke of different people and different places and a different life. His unwavering devotion to his little brother. And his grin. He had a huge toothy grin that was just so Ed, that no one else could ever imitate, and though he rarely showed it, that grin was his all the same.

They were achingly familiar, yet still so different.

And both boys felt the same way about the other, and it hurt them to live like this.