Disclaimer: Legendarily Quiet does not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Winry stared out her window through half lidded eyes. It was mid-afternoon, and the weather was lovely. The sun warmed her skin, and a light breeze played with her hair. These were the kind of peaceful days that could only be disrupted by Elric brother chaos. Her gaze wandered to the dirt road and Winry felt her heart give a little lurch as thoughts of the older Elric entered her mind.

Edward Elric. Childhood-friend. Dummy. The-person-who-never-calls-before-coming-in-for-maintenance. Oblivious idiot.

He had just recently left, and these days Winry found herself always staring down the road, waiting for his return.

How long would he keep her waiting this time?

Edward always headed off on his adventures without a second thought, offering no more than a careless wave over his shoulder as he walked away without looking back. Winry admired his strength, she really did, but she hated the fact that he always seemed to forget that he left people behind to worry while he charged ahead, chasing his dreams into the sky.

The times when he came back to earth – to her – were few and far between, and were always accompanied with the devastation of her precious automail in ruin. How hard was it for the alchemy freak to take care of an arm?

Winry slipped her hand into her back pocket and brought out her wrench. She held it in front of her, and the sunlight glinted off of it, almost blinding her. She blinked the spots out of her eyes and gripped the wrench firmly, angling it away from her.

To be honest, most of the time Winry didn't really mind that Ed was incapable of keeping up with his maintenance. If automail could tie Ed to her like a balloon to a post, then she would gladly spend sleepless nights slaving away on his metal limbs. To know that she was part of the reason he could stand tall and face the world filled her with pride, and inspired her to make each creation better than the last.

So in the end, even though Ed was a loud-mouthed shorty, she always made his automail top-notch, so that when the time came for him to walk out the door again, he would be confident that he had the best of the best.

But of course, even when backed with her amazing automail, the idiot had still managed to find a way to die.

A cloud suddenly drifted in front of the sun, casting a shadow over Winry. Her wrench lost its glint and took on the appearance of something dull and grey. Winry stared at it for a long moment, then wound her arm back and sent her wrench straight out the window. She waited for the sound of an unmistakable thump and an outraged cry, but the road was still as empty as before. A small cloud of dust rose up as her wrench hit the ground.

The cloud continued on its way and the sun came out, but Winry couldn't appreciate the warmth of it this time. Her wrench lay in the middle of the road, reflecting light that didn't quite reach her. Winry released the breath that she hadn't known she was holding and let her shoulders sag.

She should have been expecting it, really. Ever since they were kids, he had always played the protector, and as the years went by, he had gotten more and more into the role. It was just like him to sacrifice himself for another. He really was The People's Alchemist.

But he was never hers.

He had certainly gone out with a bang, leaving behind the remnants of an explosion so powerful that the shockwave had torn through everyone and left them shell shocked. Alphonse was still sitting downstairs. Just sitting and staring, and she had to wonder what he could possibly be waiting for.

What she was waiting for.

Winry reached out and closed her window.

The idiot was never coming back. She was used to waiting, it was just like him to leave her waiting, but now she knew that she would be staring out her window at an empty road for the rest of her life. The joyful day when his coat flapped in the breeze as he came trudging down the road would never come.

Her lip quivered, and tears ran down her cheeks as the reality of it finally hit her.

"And he said he wouldn't make me cry."

It was just like him.

It wasn't raining, but it might as well have been. There was nothing that Roy could say or do to make things right again. He was useless. Completely and utterly useless.

And again, it wasn't even raining.

"Hey, Shrimp."

There wasn't a reply, but Roy hadn't been expecting one. He stood before the empty grave, all decked out with honours bestowed upon the People's Alchemist, who had died in the line of duty.

But duty for what? Fullmetal had always made it clear that he would never die for the military.

But for people? Yes.

The sun shone weakly through the blanket of clouds that fought for dominance over the sky. Though he couldn't see her, Roy knew that the lieutenant stood not too far away, ready to cover him with the umbrella should it rain.

It was just like him, really, to carry on with his insubordination until the very end. How many times had Fullmetal charged into danger without a second thought, not heeding a single word from his superior?

If he had listened, just that once, maybe he would still be alive today.

Why was it that Fullmetal always chose to do things the hard way just because he could? Roy was able – and willing – to offer up his services whenever Ed needed help with something. Why did Edward just assume that he had to do everything alone? There were people who were always ready to aid him at a moment's notice, damn it! It was just like Ed to not even think of asking for help.

And look where that got him.

The weak light from the sun was slowly fading away as the clouds redoubled their efforts to take over. The cemetery was cold, and the gravestone stood there like a silent accusation. If Roy had only been stronger, had been more assertive, he could've easily prevented this. If only he had kept a closer eye and acted faster, Ed would still be alive today.

If only . . .

Roy closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. He knew that it never did anyone any good to dwell on what could've been. What was done was done. Fullmetal had never understood that though; he had always refused to give up, to never stop trying no matter how high the odds were against him.

Fullmetal had always known where he stood and he never faltered. It was admirable, but Roy had always thought that what Edward had been trying to do was foolishly naive. One always had to sacrifice things in order to survive in the world, and even though he had always spoken about equivalent exchange, the boy had always thought that he could hold on to everything.

To everyone.

Roy wondered if it had been hard. Probably not; Fullmetal had always been known for being spontaneous. It was probably even second nature to him, to use his body as a shield for someone else at the very last second. He probably didn't even have time to think of anything else as the bullets tore through his body and he hit the ground spurting blood. Really, it was just like him to make everything more dramatic than it had to be.

And it was just like him to have his brother dominating his thoughts even as he struggled to take a breath.

The clouds finally took over the sky completely, and the rain came falling down. Roy felt a few drops hit him, light and quick, before Riza was by his side, holding an umbrella over both of them. He waved her away. It was only right that the rain should drench him, so he could bask in all his uselessness.

What kind of a leader was he if he couldn't even protect his own men? How could he expect to save a country, when he couldn't even save one child?

Of course, everyone told him that it wasn't his fault. That Fullmetal was Fullmetal, and when he did something, nothing could get in his way.

Roy had ordered him to stay alive, but like always, the brat hadn't listened to his orders.

The rain came pouring down.

It was just like him.

He was hollow. That much Al knew for sure.

He stared at the steaming bowl of stew in front of him, and his stomach turned into knots. Why should he get to eat this food when Ed couldn't? Why did he have his body back, complete and whole, when Ed didn't even have his life?

Alphonse was pretty sure that he couldn't feel anymore. He picked up the spoon, but he couldn't feel the cool metal between his fingers. He put some stew in his mouth, but he couldn't taste anything. It was just like being in that armour again, only worse.

And it was just what Alphonse deserved.

Edward had told him to stay behind, but Al hadn't listened. Yes, he had been worried about Ed going in alone, but he should've known better. Ed could take care of himself, while Alphonse could not.

Why had he been so stupid?

So what if he had been worried about his brother? So what if he hadn't wanted to let Ed out of his sight at the time? He could've gone to the colonel for help, and Edward would've had the back-up he needed. But he didn't do that. Instead, Alphonse had rushed in by himself and ruined everything.

Alphonse set his spoon down and stared at the wall across from him. It was just like Ed, to throw his life away to protect someone as weak as him. It should've been him six feet under, but it was just like his brother to insist on suffering for him.

Al would do anything to be stuck in that armour again, if it meant that Ed would still be with him. What good was this weak flesh body anyway? It was already bad enough that he had been weak while wearing the armour, but pair that with a weak, mortal body and disaster is sure to follow.

Why did Ed always have to make up for his shortcomings?

Alphonse blinked his eyes back into focus and stared down at the bowl in front of him. He placed his hands around it, oh so carefully, as if to pick it up, before shoving it violently away from him. There was a clatter as the bowl tipped over and stew spilled across the table.

It just wasn't fair. Al had sworn to himself that he would never let it come to this, that he would never let his brother sacrifice himself for him, but Edward had promised the exact same thing to him, many times.

And Ed didn't break his promises.

Tch. He had never stopped loving, never stopped playing the big brother role until the very end.

It was just like him.

L.Q: I hope you enjoyed this little something that I came up with while in the shower. Actually, now that I think about it, I get all my ideas while in the shower . . .

Lest: . . . I don't know what to say to that. But this story is depressing.

L.Q: Yup. I had to make each entry shorter and shorter as my tolerance for the mood slipped away. We didn't spend much time with Alphonse at all.

Lest: Please review! Whether you liked it or not, we'd love to hear all about it!