Well guys, here it is: the final prompt. I'm both so ready and not ready at all for this collection to be over—I had so much fun with so many of these prompts.

But now that it's over, I'll refocus on, first and foremost, finally breaking Simple Things out of its year and a half long hiatus...and getting around to posting all the oneshots and short chapter fics I've got lying around (it's close to a dozen, I'd say haha)

Thanks to everyone who's read this little (not so little) collection, and I hope you all enjoy its finale!

(update 10/1/24: fixed italics)

Ch 31: PTSD

Rated K for…PTSD

Characters: Edward, Alphonse

Timeline: BH/Manga

Notes: There were several character pairings and timelines I wanted to do for this. I thought about doing Ed and Winry, post canon…or Ed and Al, post canon… or Ed and Winry, pre-canon…or Ed and Al, pre-canon…or Ed and Roy, during canon…But as much as I think a wholesome EdWin or parental!Roy scene would be great for this (and maybe it'll show up in some other story someday), I ultimately had to go with Ed and Al, because as a finale chapter, it deserves to focus on the most important relationship of the series. I also decided to ultimately set it during canon (shortly before the show starts off) for the same reason…So, for the final prompt of this collection, we go back to the classic: Ed/Al hurt/comfort, featuring all the tropes—nightmares, physical pain, mental pain, shared trauma…and unconditional love and understanding. I hope it's worthy of its finale status…enjoy!


It was one of those nights.

Edward and Alphonse were out on the road, investigating yet another potential lead on the philosopher's stone. The weather had been iffy all three days so far, but today, it finally took a turn for the worse. All evening, the clouds had built and moved closer, until finally, they let loose over the town with torrential rain, and wind, and thunder and lightning. The lights flickered periodically, so often that the Elrics had given up on trying to get any real studying done. They were already holed up in their hotel room, unable to go out and converse with locals when, a) their only method of travel was on foot, and b) many of the businesses had closed early when it became clear the storm was going to hit.

Because of this forced pause on progress, Edward decided to try and make up some of the sleep he'd missed the last couple nights (too focused on studying to notice the time). He thought it would be difficult, with all the sudden bouts of thunder and the way his old injuries were prone to achiness after a lot of travel and inclimate weather. But it seemed he'd been granted a break from the usual sleepless nights these conditions brought, and he fell asleep without too much struggle—deep enough to be unbothered by the startling noise and mild pain.

Once Edward was asleep, Alphonse sat by the window, watching the wind blow the rain sideways in the light of the lone street lamp outside. He was grateful Ed fell asleep so quickly; he knew how hit or miss stormy nights were for his brother, but today seemed to be alright. He could tell when Ed's automail was really bothering him, and he hadn't seen any of the usual signs (like favoring his leg or rolling his shoulder). Al was glad; Ed would never equate his automail to Al's body, but Al did, and that was why he wanted the philosopher's stone for his brother just as much as for himself. Right now, he was just grateful that despite being "one of those nights", things were seemingly going okay.

At least, until they weren't.

Ed had been asleep for several hours, and it was probably close to three in the morning. The storm was still raging outside, after only an hour or so of reprieve. As he had learned to do a few months after losing his body, Alphonse was in a sort of meditative, almost dissociative state—the closest thing he could do to sleep. However, it wasn't very consistent tonight, as the thunder kept startling him out of it, and he'd have to refocus.

In fact, it had just happened again—a particularly loud crack jerked him back to awareness, and he looked around the hotel room. It hadn't woken Ed, and Al was just about to try and "drift off" again when he realized something seemed off. He did a double take, studying the bed and the small body occupying it. Ed's back was facing him, but his position looked more tense than before. Al continued watching, growing concerned. Having observed his brother's sleep for over three years now, Al knew all of his quirks…including what it looked like when Ed was dreaming. Ed was the type of person whose dreams bled into his physical state. For some people, an onlooker would never be able to tell if they were dreaming or not; but with Ed, it was always obvious, even when he was really little. And this—the tense, curled posture—was usually how a nightmare started.

Al was no stranger to witnessing Ed's nightmares. For months after their failed transmutation, they were an almost nightly occurrence—and often intense enough to cause him to wake screaming. They'd gotten better over the years, but he still had them once or twice a week—not that he ever admitted it. But as mentioned, with Ed, the physical signs were obvious; for a while (knowing he'd had a nightmare), Al would ask if he was okay in the morning. But either Ed genuinely didn't remember his dreams most of the time, or he pretended not to. The only times he couldn't deny it were when he was awoken directly, which, nowadays, typically happened once a month or so. So, unless it was one of these "waking nightmares", Al had just stopped asking.

That didn't mean it wasn't still difficult to watch, though. Al didn't like waking Ed from nightmares because it was often harder for him to fall back asleep…As horrible as it was, bad dreams seemed to just be a part of Ed's life. Al wished they weren't, but he understood why they were. He, too, would relive that horrible night when he let his mind wander, and Ed had no control over what his brain did when he was asleep. It was the nature of having memories like that.

After a few minutes of observation, Al was positive Ed was in fact having a nightmare. His breathing had quickened, and he was growing restless. It started with a little twitching, but was on its way to full tossing and turning. This wasn't unusual yet, but Al was still watching anxiously, hoping it didn't turn into one of the really bad ones. It had been a while, and storms didn't help…because it was storming that night, too.

But sure enough, the nightmare intensified. Ed was now entirely restless, moving as if trying to escape the images in his unconscious mind—all except for his automail leg, that was, as if it wasn't there. Al was sure that in Ed's mind, it wasn't. Sometimes Ed spoke during dreams, but not tonight; it seemed like he was trying to, but couldn't: only a distressed, near-whimpering made it out. He turned over, giving Al a view of his face, which was twisted in despair and fear and pain. The whole thing had been going on for close to ten minutes now since the first signs, and Al was about to wake him up, regardless of the potential consequences. No one deserved to be stuck in a nightmare like this.

But just as Al got up, so did Ed. The distressed sounds (which had come close to sounding like "Alphonse" now) ramped up suddenly, and with a sharp cry, Ed was forcefully thrown from sleep. He sat up, his hand reflexively moving to his right shoulder to staunch phantom blood, while terrified eyes searched the dark room for the horrors of the basement. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room, followed almost immediately by thunder, and still confused and afraid, Ed nearly leapt out of his skin.

Quickly, Alphonse moved into Ed's line of sight, not wanting a full-blown panic on his hands. Ed's mind was still in the past, and he needed something to anchor him quickly. "Brother, it's alright."

Luckily, Ed caught sight of Al and recognized his voice. "Al?" he whispered, his voice tight and high-pitched in distress.

"I'm here," Al assured, knowing Ed's number one priority was always to make sure his little brother was alive. He was about to explain (as he always did on these kinds of nights) that it was just a nightmare, but before he could, Edward fumbled with his blanket and stood unsteadily. "Brother?"

But Ed didn't respond, instead stumbling blindly toward the hotel room's attached bathroom. Al immediately realized what was wrong, and as he'd feared, heard Ed drop to his knees and throw up a moment later. This was something else Al had witnessed too many times—after about half of Ed's "waking nightmares"—when the memories were so overwhelming and stressful it made him physically sick. Al knew most of Ed's nightmares were about that night, and he wasn't sure why the same kind of dream would sometimes affect him so much worse than other times, but the fact was that it did, and he needed to help.

He also knew that Ed wouldn't want his help. He hated appearing vulnerable, and in moments like this, he couldn't deny that he was. But Al would never just allow Ed to be alone when he was afraid and upset, even if that was what he claimed he wanted.

After a minute, Al silently sat outside the bathroom door, which Ed had attempted to shut but had been in too much of a hurry to do fully. Al could see his brother, kneeling defeatedly with his forehead resting on the edge of the toilet. His hands were clutched onto the fabric of his loose gray pants, his hair obscuring his expression—but Al could guess what it looked like. Ed was clearly crying, sniffling and hiccuping softly. Al didn't say anything to announce his presence, because he knew Ed had heard him sit down, and was aware he was there.

Five minutes later, Edward finally lifted his head, turning to look at Al with such a shameful, guilty expression it broke his heart.

"It's alright, Brother. You were dreaming," Al finally said.

Behind the shame and guilt, Ed's eyes refilled with tears. He shook his head. "Not a dream…"

"I know…" Al said quietly.

"I'm…I'm so sorry, Alphonse…"

"No, Ed. Not right now." It absolutely infuriated Al, in the most heartbreaking way, that Ed's first thought was still to apologize after reliving the worst night of his life. "Come sit with me." Al moved from the doorway, inviting Ed out of the bathroom. After a moment, Ed crawled over, curling up against Al's side. He was shaky, probably from both residual fear and adrenaline, as well as getting sick. Al knew he should get some water for his brother, but at the moment, it wasn't as important.

Several more minutes passed before Ed broke the silence rather suddenly. "That's the worst part, isn't it?"

"Huh?" Al asked, unsure what he was referring to.

"That it wasn't a dream."

"Oh. Yeah."

"That was the scariest moment of my life, Al. Even scarier than when Mom got sick. I thought I was going to die, all alone, because M-Mom was dead and you were dead and I've never been so afraid. I couldn't…" Ed's words were almost unintelligible. "...Couldn't let it happen. I couldn't let it end like that."

"I know, Brother." Al's voice tightened with fear, too, remembering it just as vividly. "It was the scariest moment of my life, too."

"I bet Mom hates me." Ed's words broke, full of so much self-loathing and pain. "I just made everyone suffer. Mom, and Winry, and—and you. And yet here I am, all upset over memories I created. I deserve it…I deserve all of it…"

"No, Edward," Al said forcefully. Ed was close to spiraling, and Al couldn't let that happen…because then he'd do the same. "You don't deserve this. I'm not suffering; I'm alive, and you're the only reason that's the case. Mom would never hate you. She loved us so much."

"But…"

"Do you know how much it hurts when you talk like that? How much it hurts to see you relive that night, over and over? My heart hurts so much for you, Brother, just like I know yours does for me. I think about it all the time, and it's scary. So please…don't talk like that…" Al's voice broke the same way as Ed's, laden with the tears he couldn't shed. "Let me help…please."

And even though Ed seemed to be physically unable to voice his response, he accepted the plea, pressing himself closer to his brother. A roll of thunder startled him, and Al gathered him up into his arms. Despite it all, it was safe there, because it was Alphonse. And as much as it hurt to admit it, Edward did need Al's help. He wanted so badly to be strong and unbreakable, but he hated this. He hated the nightmares, and the fear, and the guilt—and sometimes he just couldn't handle it anymore.

Sometimes he just couldn't pretend like it didn't get to him.

And, like always, Al was the one who understood. He understood because he felt it, too—and as hard as it was to witness, he appreciated when Ed couldn't take it anymore and finally broke down. Because this scared, haunted boy was Edward Elric just as much as the one who kicked down doors and beat bad guys, made sarcastic remarks and radiated confidence, hated milk and exploded at any perceived insult to his size. This was a part of Edward Elric that he kept hidden, only allowing those he truly loved to ever get a glimpse—but it was him nonetheless.

"It's okay, Brother. We're okay," Al said, stroking Ed's hair soothingly—a gesture he needed to perform just as much as Ed needed to feel. He did this for almost half an hour before Ed's tension finally calmed, and he began to relax. And with that, Al, too, finally began to relax.

"Do you feel better?" Al asked.

"Yeah…I think so…"

"Not sick?"

"No."

"You should drink some water, then."

"I…" Ed trailed off.

"What?"

"I don't want you to leave."

Al internally smiled. "I'm not leaving—the bathroom is a foot away."

"Yeah…you're right…"

Al set Ed down, returning thirty seconds later with a paper cup of water. Ed drank it quickly, and Al let him settle back on his lap once it was gone. He resumed brushing Ed's hair, not saying anything…because nothing really needed to be said. And in another ten minutes, Edward's breathing slowed and steadied, and he fell back asleep. Despite everything that had happened that night, he felt safe—enough to let down his guard and sleep again. Alphonse held him a while longer, both because he didn't get to do so often and to ensure his brother wasn't waking back up. Finally, he carefully stood to return Ed to his bed, because as much as Al would've liked to hold him the rest of the night, he didn't want Ed to wake up sore from sleeping on rigid metal.

Gently, Al laid Ed back on the mattress, tucking the blanket around him. He sat back by Ed's head, brushing some hair away from his face; he'd be right here when Ed woke up.

Outside, the rain still fell, but the thunder and lightning had stopped. It seemed like, at least for this night, the storm was finally over.


Thanks again for reading and sticking around with this month-turned-year-long project! I will see you guys...next time! *love hearts*