Ten things about Alphonse Elric
1. Alphonse doesn't remember his father, and that is why he doesn't hate him; you can not hate what you don't remember loosing.
2. Alphonse doesn't remember what happened that night in his fathers work room. He doesn't want to.
3. Alphonse loves Edward, he does; he just doesn't think Ed loves him as much as he says he does.
4. Alphonse thinks that the real reason Ed hates their dad is beacuse they are so much alike. They both craved knowlledge and power, they both used whaever means necesssary to get it, and they both left behind people they said they loved for thier quest.
5. Alphonse does not feel the way that Edward does. He knows what is going on around him, he sees sings of it in his brother, but it has grown hard to remember the little things. Warmth. Cold. Pleasure. Pain. They are all gone to him, and have been for so long. Alphonse will watch his brother curl under blankets, shivering, and try to remember the sensation. He feels guilty, of course, for wanting to share something that torments his brother so much - but he doesn't have it; doesn't have any of what his brother had. All pain is hollow and metallic.
6. It's true enough to say he doesn't feel, even as he does feel, but what he feels is nonsense. It doesn't make sense, it has nothing to do with sense. He will be walkin beside his brother and feel hands reach around him, touching him with sticky fingers. They cover his mouth, gaggingly sweet-flavoured, children's hands that've had too many candies. They cover his eyes and for a moment he stumbles, blind. They wrap around his torso, stroke teasingly over nipples he doesn't have anymore, start an ache up in a groin he lacks. They're ropes around his belly, holding his innards in, hot and aching, and he writhes within their touch. He lies awake at night sometimes, not fitting in a bed, unable to feel the blankets under him, and hangs in the air by ropes that are arms, by hands that stick to him and pull him left and right, up and down, that shift all over him. He stares at the ceiling and suffers orgasms he's never had, has little fingernails draw nonexistant blood from a nonexistant chest, has nothing fingers dig in nothing wounds in a nothing place where nothing exists and nothing really matters. He writhes, and there's nothing there to let him do so.
7. Alponse tells his brother "I want to feel again." It is better to claim that he does not feel these things, to deny all sensation. They don't make sense, they don't make sense, and so it is better not to feel them at all. He thinks he might be going mad.
8. Alphonse loves his mother. Even now, unable to feel anything, lacking anything inside, he swears he can feel his heart contract a little when he thinks about her.
9. He'd thought enough time had passed to let go, he had, but then he had seen his mother in the Fuhrer's secretary, heard her voice. He told his brother, and Ed had said he was imagining it; It was just an illusion, it wasn't real. He had felt the warm feeling stop, withdraw. He hasn't felt it again. Alphonse just wishes he could feel again, feel warm again. He wants to go home.
10. When he came out of the gate, human, whole, he told everyone that he could not remember what happened; he lied. Alphonse never forgot the empty shell or the memoreis, never forgot what it was to be hallow. He walked into this new life on legs that had never known whart it was to be twelve, thirtenn, fourteen, just fifteen, just now.