Disclaimers: Don't own FMA.

A/N: Alphonse's POV. (Any typos, please excuse.)

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Hero of Young Age

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Risembool is a very rural town. You can walk to anything, from anywhere. Our house is only about a half an hour away from the central area of town, and thusly just a half hour away from the school. Our empty house resides amongst the notorious hills of Risembool, just five minutes down a sloping road from the Rockbell home.

I shifted my bag from one shoulder to the other, chancing a peek at my brother and Winry. Both were squabbling with each other about his injuries, his temper, his ego, his idiocy, etc, etc, the normal conversation between them. I quirked into a smile and turned my face to the other side, peering out across the tumbling rock wall that lined the road and down the hillside towards a farm; some kid was chasing a flock of sheep from one side to the other, where another person was waiting with food. My stomach twisted up a little in a stifled growl.

Brother's voice rose up as he howled at Winry and squeaks weaved in and out of his irate words. Winry's voice rose in turn to a high octave, and her ranting beat out his, ending in a grunt and a snort from Edward. The grass was rippling like the water in the river, the sun glinting off every blade. It was actually really pretty. I wished I could take a photo.

"Al, did you hear me?" Edward was leaning in towards me, his brows raised up high. I jumped, blinking a few times, but my pace remained steady. Winry was peering at me with an innocent, curious expression.

"Um…no, sorry, brother," I murmured, smiling a little more. "What?"

"I asked if you thought it was safe for Winry to be cooking dinner for us," he repeated, to which he got a rough shove and almost stumbled into me.

"Ahh, hey!" he shrieked, fwapping at Winry with newfound ire and cheek. Winry emitted a bubbly laugh and started running up the last few yards of the hill.

"Alphonse, c'mon," she called back to me. I glanced at Edward, fuming beside me and rubbing at his side, and then broke into a sprint as I cracked a wide grin.

"Catch up, brother!" I cried, and Winry and I cackled as he threatened us with raspy impertinence.

The laundry line was strung tight between two wooden poles, sticking up in the shade of a large tree. The windows were open and airing the house out. I felt a frown tug at my face as I realized that the garden was getting a little overgrown.

"Winry," I said, leaning towards her a bit as we strode through the yard, my brother panting and stumbling up the hill after us, still a few moments from catching up to us in the lawn. She raised her brows and looked at me. "Would you mind weeding that?"

She followed my finger and looked at the garden. She smiled. "You're so funny, Al."

"What?" I felt myself blush and I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"That was your mother's, I know that much. I didn't know you guys still grew things in it. I guess I never really noticed."

"Ed doesn't care. I do, though; I know that brother appreciates Mom in other ways."

"Of course," Winry agreed, dropping her bag near the threshold to our house. "I'll work on it right away, okay? Hey, didn't your guys' mom used to grow tomatoes and cabbages and other stuff in here, not just flowers? How come you don't anymore?"
"Don't really cook much," I mumbled. I looked over my shoulder as I heard my brother huff something. He caught my glance and pouted.

"Well thank you for being patient you guys!" he snapped, throwing his bag onto Winry's. "I'm a little tired after today, but that's okay, just leave me on the road!"

Winry giggled from where she had kneeled in front of the garden. She rested her hands on her knees and tilted her head and examined it silently. I watched her, my bag still hanging from my shoulder. Brother stomped over to us and put his hands on his hips, his left cheek puffing out and burning pinkish-purple.

"What's so interesting about some stupid weeds?"

I looked at Edward. Winry looked at Edward. We both just stared at him until he recoiled, looking a little startled and upset.

"What?" he sputtered, and then threw open the front door and stormed inside. Winry shook her head and reached up, pulling on my hand.

"I'll work on this okay?" She smiled at me. "Go drag him out here and have him help you with some other chore."

I nodded curtly and smiled in return, before making my way into the house as well. I pulled the front door open all the way and pushed the block of wood in front of it, leaving it open to let in some fresh air and a little more light than the windows allowed. The kitchen in front of me looked bare but still clean. I tried not to let a frown consume my whole face, and said, "Brother, have we done the laundry yet?"

"It needs to be put on the line," he called back, his voice sounding far away. I didn't see him, but I knew where he was. And I was right; he came walking into the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, directly across the room from me, holding an apple from the apple bin in the corner. It was missing a chunk and his right cheek was puffed out nearly as much as his left.

"Will you help me with that?" I went on, reaching back outside and pulling our bags into the kitchen to make sure no bugs got into them. We'd already learned our lesson with that one.

"What about my apple?" he replied, sounding completely puzzled, his voice squeaking on every other syllable. I grinned.

"Finish it?"

"How can I do it that fast?"

"Where'd you put the wet laundry anyway?"

"In the bathroom." He sunk his teeth into the apple again, his victim bleeding sweet juice all over his lips. He blinked.

"How long has it been sitting in there?"

"Since yesterday."

I stopped moving and looked at him, utterly indifferent but about to laugh my face off. Of course he would be the one who left the wet laundry to mold away in our dark, cool bathroom. I pointed down the hall, my lips twitching with a stifled smile. "Can you get it so we can hang it out?"

"Yuh," he grunted, and disappeared with heavy, rapid footsteps that traveled down the hallway. Momentarily he returned with a basin full of (surprisingly, still sodden) clothes, the apple resting on top like a cherry on a sundae. He frowned crossly and stomped across the kitchen towards me.

"These are heavy," he grumbled, and nudged past me out into the sunlight. I giggled and followed him, grabbing the side of the basin that he needed a spotter on. Helping him across the yard towards the laundry line, I handed him his injured apple daintily after we'd set the metal basket down into the grass. He took it and thanked me with a grunt, taking another bite and licking over his lips.

There was a little tin bucket attached to one of the wooden poles with chicken wire. I flipped up the lid and took out a pin, holding my other hand out for an article of clothing. A gust of wind rushed past us, making the clothes on our bodies and our hair dance around slightly. I curled my fingers tightly onto the wet T-shirt to make sure it didn't blow away and then pinned one corner up onto the wire. My fingers searched for another pin and that's when I heard my brother say,

"Uh oh."

I looked at him, my eyes wide, naming off the things he could possibly have done, and past his guilty, innocent face I saw Winry working away diligently and lovingly at the garden.

Edward had gotten out a white bed sheet, and when another breeze had shoved roughly at us, the partially dry cotton had been yanked from his grip and was now dancing elegantly down the hill, hovering inches above the grass as the wind kept up.

"Great!" Brother squalled, ducking under the T-shirt I had hung and darting after the sheet, flailing. "Al, help!"

I dropped the pin back into the bucket and, laughing, ran after him. He was running full-force down the hill, jumping and reaching for the sheet as I caught up to him. "Stop, stop! Stop it now I tell you! Stop flying away you bastard, I'll rip you to shreds!" he was screeching. From the lawn, as we went further and further away from the house, I heard Winry call after us, "What the heck are you guys doing?"

"Brother, you're such an idiot!" I said once I was just a few inches away from him, both of us clawing at the sheet as it (somehow) stayed just beyond our reach. Another wild zephyr swirled it higher in the air and we both sped up simultaneously. I looked at him as he looked at me furiously.

"Why do you say that?" he barked.

"Because you're so proud," I said back, pinwheeling as I almost tripped. "Because – " I inhaled sharply and grabbed his arm as he almost fell in turn. " – you try so hard to be the hero for everyone and then you get hurt instead and you don't let anyone be a hero for you!"

He looked towards the sheet and jerked forward, pumping the air with his knees and his feet and his fists. His eyes went blank and then thoughtful and then determined. He jumped up high and snatched a corner of the sheet, howling with triumph as he did so and tumbling down a few feet to a stop. I skidded as we reached a curve where the grass turned into dusty road and stood on the edge, smiling at him, catching my breath with heaving shoulders, my hands on my knees.

"I don't need a hero," he panted, lying on the road and hugging the damp sheet to his chest. He touched his left cheek and I could tell he fought a wince. "I'm fine just how I am. My own consequences, you know."

"Equivalency," I shot back, straightening up and folding my arms behind my back, offering him my brightest smile. "Someday someone is going to be your hero, and I know that you're not going to like it."

"I don't need one, I said," my brother snapped at me. He frowned sincerely and sat up, trying to fold the sheet in his lap. His clothes were covered in more dirt smears than had aroused earlier. Winry's voice floated down on another breeze, something shrill and incomprehensible. Edward's hair blew off his face in the wind and I could see the band-aids on his temple. He climbed to his feet and brushed past me, stomping back up the hill.

I followed him.

"Hey," I said quietly after we'd reached the top, where Winry stood at the edge of the yard with her hands on her hips and a tight pout. Her hands were covered in green and soil smudges. Brother glanced at me silently. "If you want," I went on, loud enough for both Winry and Edward to hear me above the rustling of the tree's branches and leaves, "I can go up to Granny for a while. I actually like to watch what she does with the wires and the iron. If I weren't studying so hard with alchemy" – I quickly looked between Edward and Winry, a little apprehensive – "then I bet I would be training for an apprenticeship with automail engineering like you, Winry!"

Brother groaned, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe this! Another mechanic geek!"

"Shut up, you stupid scientist!" Winry squealed, snatching the sheet from him. They both looked at each other silently for a minute, and then laughed. I smiled brightly and brushed my hands on my jeans. I don't know why I did that.

"Okay, well I'll go now. Come and get me when dinner is ready, unless you've changed your mind about Winry making it?" I waited.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Just come get us when it's ready up there. Tell Granny that we'll be finishing up the chores."

"Laundry," Ed added in a mumble, yanking the sheet back and moving towards the line again. Winry smiled softly at me and touched my shoulder.

"I'll take good care of the garden," she murmured, and then turned and ran off with Edward, giving him a light shove. I heard their laughter and I have to admit that my heart sunk just a little. I felt left out, yes. But I knew that I needed to be a good brother, too.

And I knew, as I turned to head up the hill to the Rockbell house, by the way that they looked at each other, standing there under the laundry line, that they had other plans than chores.

I knew by the look in their eyes that they wanted to do the intimate thing.