Gunshots fired all around him. He could feel the bullets whizzing past him, his heartbeat pounding in his ears so loud he could barely even hear the shots. Motion fluttered all around him from his team, Mustang's loyal soldiers acting as his backup. Alchemy sizzled under his skin, the metal of his automail clanging against his flesh hand as he clapped his hands and brought them down to the earth—

Ed gasped, sitting up straight in bed. He was drenched in sweat, his heart thundering in his ears. He could feel how wild he looked, eyes darting around the room, looking for the threat. He closed them, doing the tactical breathing he had learned in basic training. After his heartbeat had slowed, he reopened his eyes. Sunlight weakly streamed in through the window— it must be around 7 a.m. if he had to guess. "At least I managed to sleep through the night," he muttered to himself.

He got out of bed and slipped on a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants— a run would help him clear out the residual energy. He headed downstairs and stood on the porch, taking in the countryside of his childhood home. Resembool had been both a special comfort and a personal hell for Ed over the years: a constant reminder of his past, but also the holder of his future. He fought down a blush at the memory of blue eyes under blonde bangs. Then he scowled when he realized he needed to do maintenance on his knee before his run.

He knelt down and grabbed the tools Winry kept on the porch for when clients couldn't get up the stairs due to a weak joint and began fiddling with his knee, cleaning out the breaks in the metal. He was so focused he almost didn't hear the footsteps coming behind him.

Almost.

"Morning, Al." Ed didn't turn around to see his brother, lest he notice the remnants of his dream lingering in his face. Al had always had the particular ability to deduce when Ed had had a nightmare. It was helpful for when Ed got into one of his moods when they were sent out on military duties, but lately it was a real pain.

"Good morning, Brother." Ed could hear the smile in his brother's voice. Al had taken to waking up with the sun to feel the temperature change in the mornings. Winry had confided in him that she thought it was strange, but Ed knew it was because Al hadn't felt anything for years.

Because of him.

You're a horrible older brother.

"What are you doing up this early?"

Ed hummed and was about to answer before something slid out of place in his knee, and he felt the joint lock. One of his nerves pinched and he swore, dropping the tool loudly on the porch. "Damn," he said again, picking the screwdriver back up and sticking it back in his knee in a way that would give Winry a heart attack.

"Sorry, Al, what'd you—"

"Does it bother you?"

Ed stopped, finally turning around to look at his little brother. He was in an old hoodie of Ed's that didn't fit him anymore— Al didn't quite fill it out since he hadn't reached a regular BMI yet. His face looked so sad that Ed instantly felt ready to conquer whatever was upsetting him. But first, he had to figure out what that was.

"Al, are you okay?"

"Brother, answer my question."

Ed furrowed his brow, not seeing what that had to do with anything. "My leg? I mean, when it breaks it's not great, but Winry does a good job with—"

"That's not what I meant." Al was quiet after his interruption, and Ed knew his brother enough to know that Al needed to come up with the words. Ever since his outburst at the hospital when he was a suit of armor, accusing Ed of inventing him, he was always more careful with his word choice in serious moments like this. So Ed stuck the screwdriver back in his knee joint, loosening the stiff joint as Al unwound his thoughts.

"What was your dream about?" Ed stiffened, looking back up at Al guiltily.

"I knew I shouldn't have made eye contact with you," he grumbled. Al laughed quietly. He started to bend down and sit next to Ed against the wall, and Ed reached out to grab his arm to help him down.

Once both brothers were settled, Al looked back out at the horizon.

Ed decided he needed to speak first— whatever was bothering Alphonse would come to him in time. "Same old dream— I'm back in the war. I don't know who we're fighting, I don't know who's around me, it's the same thing we lived for four years." Ed didn't know how he felt about those dreams. He always woke up feeling empty, like something was missing. He never told Al that, though— he knew what he would think, and he would be wrong. Ed would give up his alchemy a thousand times over if it meant Al was healthy and whole.

"Exactly the same?" Al's voice was quiet. Ed nodded, following Al's gaze and looking out at the sunrise.

Al let out a breath. "Does your leg bother you, Brother?"

"What are you actually asking me, Al?"

They were both quiet. Ed's leg finally loosened, and he stretched it out in front of him. The pant leg of his sweatpants was still rolled up, and he caught Al staring at the metal prosthetic. "I spoke to a woman in town yesterday," his brother said. "She said she couldn't believe her eyes that it was me. How lucky you and I are to have gotten back all that we lost after Mom died." Ed blinked, waiting for Al to continue.

"'Everything' was the word she used."

Ed didn't breath. Al's gaze didn't leave his automail. "I told her we didn't get back everything." A pause. "You didn't get back everything, Ed."

"I got back everything I needed, Al." Ed made sure his voice left no room for argument.

"We swore we would get our bodies back, Ed!" Al finally snapped, pushing himself to his feet so swiftly Ed would have been proud if he wasn't immensely terrified for where Al was going with this. "You promised me, over and over again, that we would fix what we did, that we would get it all back! But you…" Tears welled in Al's eyes, never wavering from Ed's metal leg. "You didn't. And it's all my fault."

"Alphonse." Ed stood and crushed his brother in a hug as firmly as he could without bruising his brother's frail skin. "I kept my promise. I got our bodies back. I performed the unforgivable sin— Truth wasn't letting me go without—"

"We did it! We both did that, Ed; it wasn't just you!" Alphonse was yelling, loudly, and Ed tried to soothe him so he didn't wake Granny— or worse, Winry. The last thing he needed was her overhearing this.

"Al, hey. Alphonse, look at me." Ed gently guided his brother's face to his own. He waited until he met his gaze. "None of this is your fault, okay? I was supposed to look out for you, and instead I led you into a hell worse than death. Every promise I made to you was for you. I'm not upset I didn't get my leg back. I would've been fine losing my arm again if it meant you got your body back, understand? It was my sin you paid for, and that's what we had to right."

"You lost everything, Brother! Everything!" Alphonse was sobbing now. "Dad, Mom, me, your alchemy, your body; I didn't lose anything. It's not fair."

"Yes it is, Al!" Ed yelled back, his temper finally snapping. Al looked shocked, and rightfully so— Ed never yelled at his brother. "That wasn't your choice and we both know it. If I hadn't said we were doing it you would never have even suggested it. You were the price I paid, and I'll be damned if that bastard Truth took you away from me, too. We tried to play God and we got caught, Al. Nothing more, nothing less. My leg is a reminder that—" Ed stopped. "That I'm nothing more than a human." He had never told Alphonse about his conversation with Truth; he hadn't even told Winry. He didn't know what to think of it, still.

Ed let out a breath. "My leg is a reminder that I shouldn't have done what I did. And it needs to be a reminder to you, too— that you did the unthinkable. You beat Truth, learned the secrets of alchemy and lost nothing—"

"Bullshit, Ed." Al pushed him away. "That leg is nothing but a reminder that I took everything from you." Ed could only blink at him. "You love alchemy. You were a prodigy— Mom said it, the military said it. You're the youngest state alchemist in history; you probably always will be. You outclassed Colonel Mustang and Major Armstrong and even Kimblee and Father. If you still had your alchemy you could find a way to get your leg back. But you had to give all of that up because your stupid kid brother put you in an impossible position." Ed felt his heart pounding. Al wouldn't look him in the eye. "You always understood what it takes to get something back better than I did— I should've known the toll would've been me again."

"Alphonse," Ed said, but his brother was already walking away. "Al!" Ed yelled, but Al didn't turn back around. Ed swore and took off after him, but his knee joint locked up again and he crashed to the ground. "Damn this leg!" he muttered to himself, definitely not letting Alphonse hear him after his confession. There was no way he would catch Alphonse in this state, so he rolled over and waited for Winry to find him.

Then, he would fix this.