Title: Never Easy

Rating: M overall

Pairing: Royxed, but mainly Elricest

Genre: Romance, Angst, Horror, Hurt/Comfort... that sounds like a terrible combination 0_0

Summary: Things have never been easy for the Elric Brothers. Why would love be any different?

Warnings: Mature content, language, and violence in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Fullmetal Alchemist. *sobs in corner*

_,.-"~^~"-.,_

After meeting so many State Alchemists over the years on our quest, I began to think that the Fuhrer has his 'on' and 'off' days. The Fuhrer is the one who comes up with the titles for the State Alchemists, but some days, he must be tired or something. Take Major Armstrong for example; the Strong Arm Alchemist.

Really?

How much thought did he actually put into that name before he wrote it down and sent that letter off. And Major Armstrong isn't the only one, take Colonel Mustang for example too: The Flame Alchemist.

Are you kidding me?

I mean, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but that's just embarrassing.

So naturally, when I originally thought about my brother's title, the Fullmetal Alchemist, I was amazed at the lack of creativity. But you know what? I'm starting to think that Fuhrer Bradley might have known what he was doing.

Yeah, Edward has two metal limbs, but that's only the surface. Yeah, anyone who talks to Ed for more than two minutes would know that he's pretty headstrong, stubborn, impulsive, brash, and relatively obnoxious at times (no one knows that better than me), but like his name, it only scratches the top layer of who Edward is.

My brother is strong; a perfect example of someone who refuses to let anything stop them. Brother promised me that he would do anything to get me back to my original body, and I knew he would; it was hard not to believe him with his sense of conviction. Edward would do anything for me, but adversely, there was never anything I could do. I owed him my life; I know that and in no way feel confined by it, but Brother always did things by himself.

When Mother died, he never once let me see him cry, although later I would see him, puffy-eyed and his tear-stained cheeks giving him away. He was the one who had to become a State Alchemist; become a dog of the military, a slave to the whims of the state, but when I declared that I would join too, he immediately shot me down. The weight of the world was always on Brother's shoulders, and he wouldn't have it any other way; no matter how hard I tried to break those defenses, built with a horrible combination of love and guilt.

Even the more intimate things in life were things that Brother either completely repressed, claiming it a hindrance to his goals, or just hid away from the world again. Ed has never revealed any kind of affection to anyone…

Except me that is, which never ceases to comfort me.

And physically, I mean, I'm not an idiot; although I never went through puberty myself while in that suit of armor, I know enough to know that Brother must have…urges, for lack of a better word. On occasion, his restlessness would prompt me to suggest a girlfriend, but I quickly learned to stop bothering: Girls were at the bottom of Ed's priority list. Well, thinking about Mustang now, I guess girls were never on Ed's list, but that doesn't bother me in the least. Did he really think I wouldn't approve of something like that? Ed can be so oblivious sometimes. But once again, Brother kept his feeling buried inside.

Even though it takes a lot more work to see these qualities, Edward is passionate, sincere, determined, withdrawn, and above all, strong. So maybe his title does suit him: a fiery personality hell-bent on his goals disguising the guilt-plagued heart capable of so much love, a heart hidden away from the cold eyes of the world; a fullmetal heart. A Fullmetal Alchemist.

I couldn't help but think about these things again as I watched Ed; standing in the middle of our room, apparently musing as he inspected the contents of our closet. I had been watching for the last ten minutes, sitting on my bed, minding my own business, while he rummaged through the mess that is referred to his side of the closet, but I couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Brother, what are you doing?"

Ed turned his head towards me, which was the best he could do since he seemed to have gotten tangled in a flannel shirt and my winter coat when he was trying to reach something in the back of the closet.

"What does it look like?" he asked as he tried to untangle a piece of his hair from a button. "I'm trying to find something to wear."

He managed to get himself freed from all the clothes, but hadn't managed to pull out that particular article he was looking for, so with a deep breath, he dove back in. I couldn't help but shake my head and sigh.

"But Brother," I said exasperatedly as my patience started to waver. "You're already wearing clothes."

"Oh my god! I am!" he yelled sarcastically, patting himself down like he'd never seen the fabric before, even though it's what he wore every day since we lost our bodies. "Well then, that's going to save me some time!" he teased before he rolled his eyes at me and continued to explore the closet.

"I'm only confused here, Ed, because it looks like you're trying to find something to wear to the ball tomorrow," I explained, finally standing up and folding my arms across my chest.

"Of course I am," he said, although it was somewhat muffled from inside the closet. He finally pulled himself out, holding the item that apparently eluded him for so long. It was a red, long-sleeved, button-down shirt that I had made him buy a few years ago. He had complained that he was never going to wear it, but I had insisted he'd need it one day for some formal occasion. Like tomorrow. "I mean," he continued, "it's not like I can wear these clothes that you've been so nice to point out for me."

Gosh, he can be so stubborn.

"Ed, there's no way you can go to the ball tomorrow!" I exclaimed. "We just got back from the hospital two hours ago. You need to rest!"

He chuckled, ignoring me as he pulled off his tank top. I could feel myself blush slightly, and I was about to advert my gaze, but I noticed the bandages wrapped around his abs. When he turned slightly, reaching for the shirt on the bed, I could see a spot of crimson on his bandaged left side, causing a frown to fall on my face.

"I'm fine Al," he said as he started to pull the new shirt on, pausing when he got to the buttons. I knew that buttons were a bit of a difficult, but not impossible, task for Brother with his automail, so I walked over, sighing dramatically (did I learn that from him?) and grabbed the front of his shirt from him, lining the buttons up and starting to work my way down. Ed let his arms drop to his sides: although he wouldn't ask for help, he saw that it was best to just let me do it, especially when I was in this mood.

"I mean," he continued, his voice low. I looked up at his face and saw he was smiling at me. "I probably won't be able to dance, but I didn't really want to in the first place."

Did I mention how stubborn Brother is?

I finished the last button, and stepped back. Ed walked over to the dresser, looking at himself in the mirror that sat on the top. He looked perfect, and he must have been satisfied with it because he nodded before walking back over to his bed.

"You better find something to wear too Al. You need to look presentable for your date," he teased, flashing me a grin. What in the world was he talking about now?

"What date?"

"I invited Mei for you. I ran into her yesterday," he explained.

"I hope he's out fucking that little Xingese chick I saw him with, because he only has a few hours left to live."

Kimblee's words echoed in my head. I could feel nausea and fear drip down into my stomach, my knees felt weak, and I couldn't help it as I started to shake.

Ed was there in an instant, pulling me close to him, and I immediately hugged him as my face buried into his neck and my arms wrapped around his back, being careful of his wound. He folded his arms over me, his flesh hand resting on the back of my head and his automail on my lower back, pulling me closer to him: anything to get me to stop shaking.

Was this going to happen every time I thought about what happened? Mustang told me that we were safe; that Kimblee was never going to see the light of day again, but then why was I so scared? Why did my veins ice over at the thought of him? I felt my face burn, but I wasn't going to cry: I couldn't ruin Ed's new shirt. My breathing hitched, giving away how close to tears I was.

"Why couldn't I be strong like Brother?"

"It's alright," he whispered to me, although whether he was telling me it was alright to cry or that everything was going to be alright, I don't know. Knowing Ed, it was probably both. His flesh hand stroked my hair, massaging where my hairline met the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, focusing on just Ed, and I could feel the quakes racking my body start to dissipate.

"I'm sorry," I whispered back. I didn't want Brother to have to deal with this burden too. Even though I never felt safer than I did in his arms, I didn't want him to have to fix me. I could do this on my own.

"Don't be," he said, his voice comforting and warm. "You're not weak or foolish for being scared. Men are fools without fear, and I know you Al. This won't hold you down: you'll change this fear into strength. Just give it some time."

I couldn't think of anything to say. My heart skipped a beat, and the only thing I was afraid of now was him letting go of me.

"This won't last forever," he whispered, sadness in his words, and I couldn't help but think he had more than one intention behind his statement. I hugged him tighter, not wanting him to disappear, and he seemed content to hold me a while longer.

He surprised me when he finally spoke. "I'm sorry Al; I didn't know Mei was that terrifying."

I pulled back and looked at his face. He looked back at me, and a smile slowly invaded his face as he tried not to laugh. It was just too much: I burst out laughing, tears forming in the corners of my eyes and my back ached from shaking so hard. Ed erupted too, and I don't know who was holding who up as we laughed hysterically. I eventually had to stop, just so I could get some air again. I sat down on my bed and watched as Ed walked over to his bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt himself while stifling the few remaining chuckles.

"Fine," I said, giving in. "You can go to the ball. Just promise me you'll take it easy," I begged, trying to gain some handle on the situation.

"I promise Al," Ed confirmed as he pulled off his new shirt and put on his tank top again. I saw him wince slightly when he reached his arms up to slip the shirt on.

"He better take it easy, although I don't think that's in Brother's vocabulary…"

"And besides," he started as he grabbed his black jacket, "Mustang would give me such a hard time if I didn't show up after making such a big deal about going stag."

The words were out of my mouth before I could even realize what I had said: "You're not going with the Colonel?"

Ed froze, his back turned to me, but I could imagine the look he had on his face. I sat there, horrified, hands covering my mouth and eyes wide.

"Oh fuck."

"How… how did you know about that?" he asked quietly, not even trying to pretend like he didn't know what I was talking about.

I contemplated lying, but I was a terrible liar, and besides, I didn't want to lie to Brother. So finally I spat out, "I found out Wednesday… I saw him… I saw him kissing you."

Brother didn't move and I could see how tense he was. I couldn't even hear him breath. Finally he resumed putting on his jacket. He sighed deeply, letting his shoulders fall and he bowed his head, but he still didn't turn around.

"I'm going to the library," he said, and then walked towards the door.

"Ed, wait!" I called to him, but it was too late: he was gone.

I mentioned how stubborn Brother was, right?

Edward's fullmetal heart has kept him safe from horrible things that would have stopped a lot of people if they had been in his shoes, but sometimes I hated it, because sometimes, it hid the person I knew he could be. Sometimes, it forced him to be alone in the darkness that we had created together. Sometimes it made him harsh and cold when I know that's not the role he wanted to play. And sometimes it made him blind.

"Why couldn't he just see that I love him too, like he loves me?"

Things are never easy.

Author's Note: Awww, now we finally know how Al feels about all of this. I have to admit it was fun writting about Ed being trapped in the closet, literally and figuratively. There's probably going to be only 2-3 more chapter (depending on if the next chapter is super long, I might break it into two) but I don't know yet.