I had a reviewer that was wondering why Evy got caught up in the assassining stuff, so here ya go! (Credit to AllINoIsImNotAwesome for this idea).

Warning: A whole lotta angst in this chapter, and self-harm. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA

2 years ago:

Today is worse than the others.

I trudge down the empty street, finding a hidden place. The hem of my skirt gets soaked from the puddles. I haven't come home to Al in several days. It's good he doesn't know. He would yell and I would feel bad.

I hate those feelings. The feeling that I am a shitty 'brother' to Al, and getting into fights, and stuff like that. Al's only 13; he shouldn't have to know, he can't know. It'll ruin him.

My soul is weak. Weak from self neglect (my hair is matted and the cuts haven't healed yet), weak from the pain. The pain of having to have an alias, the pain of the bruises that adorn my ribs from the fights, the pain of the cuts that crisscross my forearm, and the knife cradled in my automail hand.

The knife helps. The cuts help. The blood flowing down from my arms helps.

Finally, I find a small corner in the darkness of 10 pm. The darkness helps also. It lets no one know.

I take the knife and run the sharp edge against the unhealed cut. I watch my scarlet blood drip onto the pavement, creating a dark pool that reflects the half moon.

A foot splashes into the blood, and unfamiliar one. "Hey, little girl."

I tremble in rage.

"Well, are ya gonna answer, whore?"

I'm now clenching the knife tighter.

"Bitch, I'll just take you, then," the person says, grabbing my arm. I snap.

Pulling out of the man's weak grasp, I drive the knife into his ribs once, twice, until he falls.

That did nothing to ease my pain. Just one more person dead. I can't stand it. People dying because of my anger, of my self-hate, of things I've done. I'll keep the pain to myself. Then Al will be fine. I will go back to him. Still the harm and the pain will be kept to myself.

I knock on the door to the apartment. Al opens it and hugs me, crying. I don't blame him. I was gone for so long. I'm in one of my aliases again. I hate aliases.

"Ed, where were you?!" Al cries. "I missed you!"

"Nowhere, really," I reply. Still, I feel the pain.

"Come on in, you must be hungry and you need to sign these so I can go to school," Al says, leading me in. I love my brother, but I still need to release the anger where it can't hurt him.

I accept the food and sign the papers.

-Three days later-

The anger, all this pent up anger, is taking me over. I shouted at Al and hit him today. He cried out in pain, and I did too internally. If it spills out, I might kill my only remaining family member and a part inside me when that happens. It will happen, I'm sure of it. That's why it must go now.

I dress as myself and sneak out into the night, taking the knife with me. I find that dark little spot and sit down, leaning my back against the wall.

I hold the knife in my right hand, and slash my left wrist. The blood pools onto my skirt, staining it. It doesn't matter anyway, I'll die anyway, no one will care about the skirt.

The blood from my wrist does not kill me, just makes me dizzy as hell. I place the knife on my left side of my neck. I do a neat slash.

It's too shallow.

I place the knife in a different place this time, and prepare to slash.

A firm hand grasps my wrist.

Thinking it's Al, I turn and try to run. But the person does not let go. I look at their face, and they are not Al, this guy is from Xing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he hisses. I drop the knife.

"Ending." I sink back onto the ground, taking the Xing guy with me. He kneels down beside me and takes the knife out of my hand.

"Do you have anyone at home?" he asks fiercely.

"Al..."

"Listen," he growls, grabbing the collar of my shirt and pulling my face near his. "Who's gonna take care of Al when you're gone? There's only you. I don't want you to do this because I don't want you to take this farther, and kill yourself in a worse way than this. He'll be devastated."

I break down and cry. The person wraps me in a hug, and I cry on his shoulder.

"What's your name?" I ask, wiping the blood off my neck and the tears.

"Ling Yao," he replies. "You?"

"Evelyn Elric," I reply. "But my brother doesn't know."

Ling raises an eyebrow. "Hm. Okay, now go home and talk to Al. Come back to this same spot tomorrow."

I nod.

When I get back to the apartment, Al is happy to see me. He bandages the cuts and tells me to rest. I rest.

I throw the self-hate away.

The next day, when I go back to the place, Ling is standing there, waiting.

"Hello."

"Hey."

"I have an idea," Ling says. "Well, I just became an assassin recently to make some money and to let out some steam, do you want to join me?"

I think for a bit. "Sure."

I have no regrets.

I still do now, 2 years later.

Aaand that's how Evy becomes an assassin! Hope you enjoyed!