On second thought, Sundays are more convenient posting days for me. That's official; I promise won't randomly switch it to "Every Wednesday on which I eat a Fuji apple."

Comment, praise, criticize...but moreover, enjoy!

Alphonse walked the streets alone. The sun had long since set, but he had never been able to sleep since being trapped as an armored soul; since the disappearance of Ed, he hadn't even been able to rest. He didn't really see much of a purpose to life without his brother. He knew he needed to let go, but all he could think of was the possibility that Ed was still alive. The sliver light from the moon played with his sense of vision—one of only two senses he had retained—and every few minutes it led him to believe he saw the swish of a red cloak, or a glint of golden hair. Perhaps he was going insane…

"AL!"

The voice he heard was desperate yet relieved; it was Ed's voice for sure. Horrified at the thought that he was now hearing things as well, Al suppressed dry sobs. When would this mocking end?

"ALPHONSE!"

Al spun around and saw a figure running clumsily towards him. It was Ed; he looked terrible, frankly, but there was no mistaking the short Alchemist. With a clank of metal, Alphonse was running towards his brother. Edward gave a relieved smile, slowing down his pace. Alphonse ran into him full-force and he went crashing to the ground.

"STUPID!" Alphonse cried. "STUPID, BROTHER! YOU GO OUT TO DO SOMETHING DANGEROUS AND DON'T EVEN TELL ME WHERE YOU'RE OFF TO? DO MY FEELINGS REALLY MATTER THAT LITTLE?"

Startled, Ed tried to hobble to his feet and panted.

"What was that for? One day spent away from me and you panic?"

Alphonse fell deathly still; only the glow behind his eyes gave any proof that he was anything more than an empty suit of armor.

"Brother…what happened?" Al asked quietly.

"It doesn't matter. Why are you so worried? I'm back now."

"You go missing for over 6 months, and you show up thinking it's been only a day. If I may, that is plenty of reason to worry."

Ed's brows furrowed with confusion and terror. 6 months? He had been gone for over 6 months? Wow, that really was a reason to worry. What the heck had that man done to him that required such a long time to complete?

Almost as a response, he felt the sharp pain in his ribs again; it felt like they were shifting slightly inside of him. He tried to quickly hide the grimace of pain that had flitted across his face, but Alphonse had noticed. Ed came up with a quick excuse.

"Ah, I haven't been eating that much. My stomach kills."

"Brother, we need to get you to a doctor!" Al exclaimed. This was probably not such a bad idea, but Ed knew that doctors usually led to needles. Plus, it was probably nothing serious, since he wasn't dead yet.

"First, I want a sandwich." Ed had realized he really was famished. How much had he been fed over the past months?

Back at their flat, Al called the colonel and then fussed over Ed. Hundreds of needle scars threw him into a panic, and he insisted on testing Ed's blood, then dragged him to the military hospital.

"What a lovely welcome home," Ed grumbled as he parried the doctors' attempts to subdue him.

"Hold still, they just need a bit of blood!" Alphonse said, exasperated. In the end, Al was holding Ed in a full-Nelson, and after a small prick the tube filled with blood.

"I'll be back with the results as soon as I can," promised the doctor, leaving them in the hospital room. Ed was brooding, his back turned to Al. Al meanwhile was disconcerted with how little Ed was worrying. Did he really remember nothing?

When the doctor returned, he asked to speak to Ed alone. He later returned without Ed, wishing to speak to Al privately as well.

"Your brother was infused with something that caused temporary amnesia, erasing from his memory anything that happened within the past months that he was gone. As the infusion wears off, his memories of that time will return, and they may be traumatic. You need to support him, and don't freak out if he acts rather differently for a while." Al sighed.

"Is that all?" Al asked. The doctor licked his lips.

"No. Something in his blood steam altered his DNA, but it is unlike anything I've ever seen before. I can't identify it. I'll keep working on it and let you know if I figure anything out." He paused, seeming to have an internal struggle, then continued. "And…well…until we find a cure, it may…affect him. His body will want to adapt to the new DNA. It will likely… not be pleasant." The doctor was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable that he had to present this unsettling news.

"Take care of your brother," he added after the pause, and then he left.

The brothers rejoined, and Alphonse decided that a trip to the library could take Ed's mind off of the things, as it usually did.

There was a creak of floorboards, and Ed's eyes shot open. He pulled in vain at the restraints that left him with continuously deeper marks on his wrists.

"Hold still," said the man as he approached. A prick on Ed's arm, and a few moments later the scientist held a syringe half-filled with Ed's blood. He produced a small vial from his coat pocket and poured its contents into the syringe, mixing it with the blood. Satisfied, the man eyed the needle, then returned it to Ed's arm. Ed again tried to pull away, very uneasy with the idea that something foreign was being ejected into his bloodstream. Unease was abruptly replaced by pain; he felt like the veins in his arm had become liquid fire trying to burn through his very bones, and he thrashed wildly. The man picked up the needle and mixed Ed's blood with the substance again, ignoring the protests from the angry teen as he pricked it back into his arm…

"ED! EDWARD!"

Ed's eyes snapped open. He was on the floor of the library, surrounded by books that might have once been stacked neatly, but were now cast about him. Al loomed above him.

"Brother? What happened? Are you ok?"

Ed wasn't sure what to respond. After making sure he really was in the library with al and not in a dark room with a mad scientist, he relaxed.

"Just a dream, Al. Calm down."

"You were flailing and yelping!"

"…Bad dream."

"Bad memory," Al realized aloud. "What did you remember?"

"Nothing big. Just…trying to get unchained. I don't like being stuck."

"There's more to that, brother, you liar." Ed wondered how much he was willing to tell; he didn't want to concern Al.

"He gave me a shot, you know how much I hate those. I put up a good fight though—agh!" He had begun the white lie in what he hoped was a careless tone, but a pain in his flesh arm startled him. At that moment, he made a connection in his brain. The DNA…the odd pains…the laboratory.

The cure.

He had forgotten the final conversation with his captor, assuring him that he'd be back for the cure. That was a vital detail, and it helped to solidify his hypothesis. Moreover, he was indeed going to have to go get the cure at one point; now that he understood what was happening to him, he knew that there would be no hiding the fact that something was very, very wrong. He swore to himself that he would never let Al find out.

Al would find out anyways.