New fic I've had rolling around in my head for a while! I'm just using it as an opportunity to kinda delve into how ed's character and relationship with his mom may develop as he grows older. This is gonna be fairly short, 6 chapters total, and it's already completed so I'll be updating once or twice a day for the next few days! Enjoy!

Edward hadn't cried since his mother's funeral. That pivotal day when the sun had had the audacity to shine, when nearly all of Resembool's underwhelming population had gathered to say their final goodbyes to one of their own, and Edward had stood next to his little brother, both dressed in their Sunday's best and openly sobbing. Pinako, similarly dressed in formal black and a string of pearls, had been tasked with trying to quiet the young, inconsolable Elrics with firm, comforting pats and an arsenal of handkerchiefs. Ed wouldn't have it though; for the first time since he could remember, he wept openly and unashamedly, not even bothering to try to be strong for Al, who was too swallowed up by his own grief and tears to notice.

The audacious sun had set, lighting the sky ablaze in hues of orange and red, and as day turned to twilight, all of Resembool's residents had returned to their dwellings, emptied of their words of regret, and ready to go on with their lives as though Trisha Elric's death wasn't the earth-shattering catastrophe that it was to her orphaned sons. By the time the rest of the funeral party had gone, including the reluctant Rockbells, who had parted with a soft word of warm dinner waiting, Ed stood, dry eyed and numb at his mother's fresh grave. Al sat next to him, head buried into boyishly scraped and knobby knees, still crying softly. Ed had no tears left to cry, and a determination had taken over that left no room for regret or processing grief. Alchemic equations and theories had replaced the what-if's in his head, as he desperately tried to comb through his knowledge of human transmutation, homunculi, medical alchemy, anything that could bring their mother back from the dead.

It had been well over half a year since then, and after a bit of persuasion, Ed had recruited Al into the tedious task of learning how to bring their mother back to them.

Ed hadn't cried a single tear since standing before that grave which now stood, waiting, under a scattering of flurries in the early February air.

Days, weeks, milestones, and holidays had passed, but none of it felt the same without their mother. That was why Edward had dreaded the coming of his birthday, and had refused to acknowledge it in celebration. Winry, however, had different plans, and had adamantly demanded he and Al at least come over for dinner and cake. Ed had agreed, mostly to avoid an argument and unwanted questions that would dredge up all those feelings he worked so hard to push aside.

They day came with little fanfare besides Al wishing his brother a happy birthday during breakfast before they went to their father's study to scour through his vast library of alchemy tomes.

"Brother, the post came!" Al called. Ed hadn't even noticed his brother had left the room, until he reentered with an envelope in his hand. He hadn't even noticed how long he had been sitting hunched over a book until Al's distraction caused him to feel the crick in his neck. Besides, the mailman didn't make his deliveries before noon. "It's for you!" Al continued. "There's no address or anything, isn't that weird?"

Ed took the letter from his brother's outstretched hand and turned it over. Sure enough, the only thing written in a semi-familiar script was his name and the date. "Huh," Ed grunted, confused.

Al settled on his knees next to his brother, eagerly waiting for the mysterious letter to be opened. "Maybe it's from Granny or Winry?" he suggested.

"I don't think it's either of their handwriting," Ed countered. "Besides, we're going to be seeing them in a few hours anyway."

"Maybe someone else in town?" Being the tiny country town that Resembool was, everyone knew everyone's business, it would be common knowledge that today was Edward's birthday.

"Maybe," Ed allowed.

Without further ado, he tore the seal open with all the carefulness of a six year old and pulled the letter out. When he unfolded the single piece of parchment, to find a neatly written letter, Ed almost dropped it in his shock.

Al must have sensed the change in his brother's mood. He leaned closer trying to get a look at the words written. "What is it, Brother? Who's it from?"

"I…" Ed swallowed, staring at the letter. Without another word, he stood and left Al in the study. This was something he needed to do alone.

Five minutes later found him on the swing tied to the tree beside their house. His feet idly pushed him back and forth as his shaky hands held an impossible letter.

My Dearest Darling Edward,

The letter began, the elegant script so painfully familiar now, and Ed felt his stomach clench in a way it hadn't in months.

Happy birthday, my little man. I'm sorry that I cannot be with you there to celebrate. I hope even if this letter may cause you sadness, that this is a day of happiness for you, and you spend it knowing you are loved. I hope the past year has been kind to you, sweetheart, and if your father has not yet returned home, then I am at peace knowing the Rockbells are taking good care of you and your brother and teaching you both the things I should be there to tell you.

I hope you still smile brightly, you always had the biggest smile, Edward, and I hope it still shines on the world, even when the skies are gray and life doesn't seem so fair. I promise, sweetheart, it may not be fair, but it is all worth it. I know you may be too young still to understand, but I want you to be happy, even if the past few months have been tough. I never wanted to leave you and your brother, and I am so sorry to have to put you both through that. I always imagined the days we would spend together as you both grew older, checking your heights on the kitchen wall, celebrating holidays and birthday together with more than a simple letter, I wanted to watch where life would take you two and watch how our lives would grow together here in our little sleepy town. And even when I am not there to do these things with you, Edward, I want you to still do them. I want you to find happiness in the small things, and take comfort in those around you. Resembool is our home, and it always will be, no matter what changes or what life puts us through.

I'm sure this isn't what you expected on your birthday, so after you read this, I want you to go have fun, sweetheart. Remember to still be happy and laugh. Remember that it's okay to still be sad or angry at times. You have had to deal with something hard at such a young age, but I know you will learn to live with it. Ed, you will have such a wonderful life, I know you will, you are so brilliant and talented and strong-willed, you will accomplish anything you set your mind to.

So please, I know you are still young, but do not sit and let life pass you by because you are upset. You have a great life ahead of you, sweetheart, as long as you take the chances you are offered.

Take good care of your brother, Edward, as I know you always have. And remember that I love you even though I am not with you.

Love forever and always,

Mom

He read the last word once, twice, overall, almost disbelieving. Suddenly, acutely, he missed his mom more than words could convey, more than a six year old could understand. He choked on a sob, unconsciously pulling the paper closer to his chest as if he could feel his mother's embrace through her words.

He peered around, suddenly self-conscious, but Al thankfully seemed to have gotten the hint that Ed wanted to be left alone. Ed broke down, sitting there alone on that squeaky swing; the only thing his father had ever done for them. With that thought, Ed felt the abandonment of his father, the pain of losing his mother, all at once. And Ed wept, the first time since his mother's funeral.

Alchemy theories and transmutation circles were shoved aside for the raw emotions Ed rarely let himself feel these days. He tried to be rational, to be strong for Al, and be the domineering presence they both needed in order to solve alchemy's greatest taboo. But Ed couldn't help it; he was six years old and missed his mother.

He heard the letter crinkle in his tight grip as his shoulders shook, though the worst of the wave of emotions seemed to have settled.

He was thankful, so so thankful to have his mother's words once more. It was like she was here again, and now that the letter was over, it was like pulling the scab from a poorly healing wound. He needed her words again, he needed to hear her voice again, not just imagine the words she said. His mother may have thought she would never see her sons again as she wrote this, but she didn't understand alchemy. Not the way Ed did. He would see her again, someday. Her letter had only refueled his resolved. He quickly folded the paper and placed it carefully in his pocket. Then he wiped the tears roughly from his face with his forearm and headed back inside.

After all, there was research to be done.