{[Disclaimer]} I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist...Duh.

"Brother, come back here!"

Edward ran through the hallway, his face layered with a frenzy of emotions, as Alphonse's stuffed cat swung limply in his hands.

It was all meant to be a little joke. Alphonse had, as of lately, grown into the habit of sleeping in his boxers and a t-shirt, just as his older brother had when he reached the ripe age of three. Al had, one day, happily claimed to his mother that "big boys don't sleep in PJ's", to which Trisha complied, stowing away the young boys' pj's in the attic with Edward's for safe-keeping.

Edward, of course, was a little irked that Alphonse ceased wearing his pajamas. Ed hadn't particularly cared about pajamas either way. He always felt it too much of a hassle to have separate clothes for sleeping and to be honest, thought they looked kind of lame. Al, on the other hand, had always loved the cozy wool. He enjoyed sorting through his clothes every night to see which pair of pajamas would have the honor of keeping him warm as he slept. He loved them all. Especially the footy ones-ies with the cowboys on it. Those were his favorite.

But really, it wasn't so much that Al was sleeping without pajamas. Those were the least of Ed's cares. It was that as Al got older, he was beginning to have all the same privileges as Edward. First it was not needing to wear a diaper in the middle of the night in fear of an accident, then it was drinking without the sippy-cup, and now not using little kid PJ's? Edward had always been glad to be born the eldest, because he believed that he got more rights. But their rights seemed to have little difference now, and Ed felt it was all just getting ridiculous. He had to make sure Al knew his place as youngest. Make sure he regretted ever trying to out-class Ed. As first born, he should be allowed that much, right?

Damn right he would!

So as a practical joke and a form of petty revenge, his little mind thought up of the brilliant idea of cutting holes in the back of all of Al's boxers.

It was all going well, too. Trisha had gone out to the market to buy ingredients for their dinner, and Al had fallen asleep on the living room floor after their afternoon snack. Ed found it to be the perfect time to attack. And so, quiet as a mouse, he snuck into their father's old office to grab a pair of scissors (because Edward had, previously, been restricted from using anything besides the safety scissors since the incident where he almost gorged Winry's eye out. And everyone knew safety scissors couldn't cut anything right.)

Pulling his shirt collar up over his nose like a mask, Edward crept to their bedroom door and leaned back against the adjacent wall, the creaking of the door hinges resounding through the hallway as he pushed the door open slightly with his foot. His narrowed eyes swiftly darted back and forth, checking his surroundings in the nigh possibility that someone could catch him any second, before he quickly spun through the entrance and shut the door.

Inside he paused for a moment, smiling stupidly to himself in the dim light, ecstatic that he made it in without trouble. He pondered flipping the light switch to flood the room with light and better his vision, but decided his anonymity was of more importance. And that ninja's didn't need light to complete their tasks. Besides, he wouldn't be long.

Quickly, he toddled over to Al's dresser and opened the top drawer where the boxers lay. His golden eyes widened with mirth and his lips tugged into a devilish grin, as he pulled his shirt collar down from his nose. He grabbed a handful and dropped his little tush to the floor, raising his hand to snip the scissors in the air a couple times, and started the task at hand, the whole time snickering quietly to himself.

Of course, three pairs in, Al strode through the door, chestnut hair tousled and small chubby fist rubbing one droopy gray eye. Edward's body flinched from the surprise and he dropped the pair of blue striped boxers he was holding, a large gaping hole in the process of being cut in the butt. Al, still quiet groggy from his nap, let his arm swing to his side, blinking slowly as if adjusting to waking up. Ed could only stare, frozen stiff as he watched his younger brother take in the scene. In sudden realization, Al's face vaguely began to scrunch up, eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and glistening in the soft hallway light with the impelling of oncoming tears.

Oh god, there were only two possible options here: let Al begin his onslaught of wails and screams, or hide until morning and delay the inevitable smack in the behind he would surely receive from their mother. Either way, Al was sure to cry from the ruining of his new boxers.

Edward, his young immature mind weighing the options, decided that the latter would suffice, and got up quickly and made a beeline for the door. But not before irrationally grabbing Al's favorite stuffed cat as a last minute revenge.

Which brings us back to the primary situation.

Edward ran, stumbling over his own pudgy legs, as he heard the padding of Al's bare feet on the hard wood floor, not far behind. Why hadn't Ed thought if this before? Of course he wouldn't have ever thought of the third option; where Al would violently chase after him in an attempt for vengeance.

The fierce outburst was nothing like his customarily cry-baby of a brother, and frankly it kind of frightened Edward. His brother's normally soft gray eyes flared madly, and his quiet voice lined with hate. Maybe it was because of the stuffed cat he possessed at the moment. It was Al's favorite; the last thing their father gave him before abandoning them. Ed could care less for the thing, but he knew that Al slept with it every night in faint hopes their father would come back. That, and it scared the monsters under the bed away with it's ferocious roar...meow...

And now it was currently clutched tightly in Ed's tiny fist, Al was in terrorizing pursuit, and the young blond had no idea what to do. He ventured to cock his head back to see just how close his brother was to catching him, and when he saw Al less than five feet away, he screamed and quickly turned to the nearest room on his right, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Al stood outside, banging the door furiously and yelling, as Ed collapsed against the wall, eyes wide and chest heaving quickly. Good lord, that boy could run fast. If Al was that great of a sprinter, why hadn't he ever won in the school relays?

"Ed, come out right now! You're gonna get it!" Al threatened, his fists pounding loudly against the white-painted wood.

And Ed knew he was in trouble. Because Al never called him by his first name. He jumped, wedging the stuffed animal closely between his hands and his chest. "Go away! Or the cat get's dunked in the toilet and a swirly!"

The assaulting knocks silenced for a while, and Ed stiffened, thinking for a second that Al had retreated. But soon enough, they came again, harder even. "You wouldn't dare! Give him back!"

Of course Ed wouldn't dare. He hated the little critter, and he positively wanted to make Al go away, but he wasn't that mean. It was something his baby brother treasured, and he would never take that away. Permanently, anyway.

Quickly he searched around for a place to hide the cat. Why he didn't just give it back to Al, he didn't know. But for some reason, his immature, adrenaline-coaxed mind was positive that it was urgent to hide it. His eyes locked onto the cupboard under the sink, and he opened it swiftly. Bottles of cleaning supplies and boxes of who-knows-what were lined up inside, and Ed shoved them aside messily to hide the cat in the back. One of the boxes got pushed out of the cabinet, the lid opening and the contents falling to the floor.

Ed leaned back, the cat safely behind all the bottles and boxes, and he stood, holding his chest and sighing in relief. He lifted his foot to take a step back, only to slip on a cardboard box. He crashed to the tile floor unceremoniously, and rubbed his behind, squinting his eyes from the pain.

"What the hell..." he turned to see just what had tripped him, and suddenly his eyes widened curiously. He reached forward, grabbing the dented box and flipping it around in his hands, examining it carefully. "Kotex...?"

Ed had only vaguely noticed that Al's poundings had ceased, and that the door knob began jostling. And when the door swung open and Al burst furiously in, Ed paid no mind, still engrossed in finding out what a 'kotex' was.

"Where is he? Give him back, Ed, or I swear you'll-!" Al stopped mid sentence, as his older brother slowly turned his body upward and raised his hands to show Al, his eyes still locked on the box. "What are these?"

Al slumped down to his knees, suddenly forgetting his anger momentarily and taking the cardboard container from his brother's hands. "I don't know. What's it say?" he asked, still too young to be able to decipher words other than his own name.

"It says 'kotex', but I don't know what the hell a 'kotex' is."

Al frowned. "Don't say that. Mommy'll get mad if she hears you say bad words."

"Ah, Mom's not here. It won't matter." Edward answered, reaching for the contents of the box that had fallen on the ground. It was in a wrapping, and Ed scrunched the plastic wrapping tightly between his fingers and opened it. He pulled out the contents and examined it, intrigued by the white cardboard cylinder covering and the string trailing out one end.

"What is it?" Al asked, leaning forward to get a better look and placing the box on the floor next to Ed's foot. Ed didn't answer, instead choosing to tangle his fingers in the string and pull, the white fluff sliding out of the cardboard covering with ease. They both looked at the fleecy material, trying to figure out what it was.

"It's soft." Ed mumbled, squeezing the cushiony cylinder between his fingers.

"Let me see it." Al said, reaching for the strange object.

"Wait, Al. Let me try to find out what it is, first." Ed responded, standing up and walking to the other side of the small bathroom.

"Okay, you can do that while I'm looking at it." Al argued, getting up on his knees and outstretching his pudgy arms to try and take it from his reluctant brother. They argued and fought, until Al accidentally hit Edward's hand, causing him to release his grip on the fluff and drop it into the toilet bowl, making a plopping sound into the water.

"See? Now look what you did." Ed swatted his brother's arms away, frowning and bending down to grab another from the box on the floor.

"Wait, Brother. Look." Al called, peering into the bowl.

Ed snapped back up, staring down into the bowl along with Al. The once cylindrical fluff was now spread out into a rectangular shape, floating aloft in the water.

Ed raised a brow and narrowed his eyes, clearly confused. "What the hell?"

He coughed when Al elbowed him in the side. "Maybe that only happens when it gets wet," Al deducted idly, as Ed rubbed his aching ribs. He reached down to grab another, pulling it out of the cardboard and dropping it into the bowl with the other one. Both boys' eyes widened as they watched the cylindrical fluff open up into the same rectangular shape as the first one.

"...Huh," Ed grunted, amazed at what was happening before them. He bent down to grab the box, face scrunched as he switched it in his hands. "Still doesn't answer what they are, though." He opened up another one.

"They kinda look like stingrays, don't they?" Al said, smiling into the toilet at the thought of cute stingrays swimming carelessly in the sea.

"...Yeah...and when they're not, they look like missiles!" Ed exclaimed, flying the covered cylinder through the air while making 'whooshing' noises, only to add exploding sound effects as he crashed it into Al's shoulder. They eyed the box, both thinking up how much fun they could have with their new discovery.

"Hey Al. Let's go have some fun with these," Ed smiled, twirling the 'kotex' in the air by the string.

"But we don't even know what they are. And aren't they Mom's? She'll get mad."

"Oh, come on! Stop bein' a big scaredy-cat. You've seen them. They're harmless. And besides. If Mom didn't want us touching them, she would've hidden them in a better place." He encouraged, placing one hand on his hip exasperatedly.

Al bunched up the hem of his shirt in his fists, looking down in contemplating thought. Ed sighed, grabbing the box and walking out. "Alright. While you sit here worrying about what's right and wrong, I'm gonna go outside and have some fun."

"Brother, wai-" Al called, but it was too late. Edward had already ran into the hallway, descending down the stairs and laughing giddily to himself. Al looked at the plastic wrappers scattered on the ground, then into the toilet, where the 'stingrays' swam and played together. He stepped out the door, grabbing the knob to pull it closed before he left. "They're harmless," He assured himself, reaching up on tiptoes to turn off the light switch. He closed the door, running and toddling down the stairs after his brother.

"Captain, we've located the enemy. Initiating target lock on in 3...2...1...Fire!" Ed roleplayed through his fist, shooting the 'missile' into the air, the string flying majestically behind, and crashing it into a trail of ants in the dirt, complete with exploding sound effects and played victim screams. He smiled, seeing the ants scatter in a wild mania, while one of them twitched and fussed under Edward's fluffy weapon.

Al looked up from his 'stingrays' in the nearby stream, distracted by Ed's evil laughter. "Brother, don't do that. What did they ever do to you?"

Edward paid no mind, watching as the ants re-assembled themselves, one of them curiously examining its fallen comrade. The ant analyzed the twitching injured one, before picking it up in it's jaws and carrying it back to the trail. Ed stood, taking out another 'kotex' and walking towards Al, not caring about the ant flailing ant on top of the other's back. Ants were cannibalistic, anyway.

"Whoosh!" Ed ran through the shallow stream, smashing his projectile into one of Al's unsuspecting 'stingrays'. The 'stingray' wobbled in the ripples for a bit, before the cotton and fluff dispersed in a fuzzy mess down the stream. Al watched the remains sink to the bottom, as his bottom lip quivered and Ed stood, shoving two 'kotex' up his nose and cackling loudly, arms raised in feigned triumph. "Take that, evi-"

He was cut short by a 'kotex' bopping him in his left temple. He turned swiftly to the attacker, seeing Al standing on his two feet on the outer banks, 'kotex' in hand. He furrowed his brow, dropping his arms to his sides. "What are you doing? You're not the one with the missiles, Al," he questioned, voice nasally and 'kotex' still shoved up his nose.

"Well you attacked me first. So now I'm counter-attacking."

"You can't do that! Not with my own weapon!" Ed argued, yanking the fluff from his nose and hurling one at Al, which pelted him in the chest.

"You killed my stingray!" Al said, returning the attack with a projectile of his own.

Soon enough, both boys were hurling 'missiles' at each other, laughing and dodging and running around in circles. Every which way, 'kotex' flew through the air, landing on the ground or plopping into the stream. "Screw this!" Ed yelled, throwing all weapons to the ground and tackling his brother into the water. Al yelped, falling onto the rock bottom, as Ed fell on top of him. They wrestled, giggling and splashing around, before Ed rolled off his younger brother and lay on his back. He looked around him, watching as fluff and cotton lay in heaps and scattered around the bank and stream, and his younger brother, chest rising up and down as he panted for air. He smiled, pushing himself up and taking Alphonse's hand, pulling him up with him.

"'Kay, Al. Let's go home now. I'm tired and I need something to eat."

Al complied, and they waded out of the stream, leaving behind their war remains."That was fun," Al said, bundling his shirt hem into his chubby hands and squeezing the water out.

"Yep. And it's great, too. I've forgotten all about why we were mad this morning," Ed stretched his hands above his head, smiling to himself. Ed stopped and turned around when he felt Al no longer following him. Al was standing still, head lowered. "Hm? Al, what's wrong?"

"My boxers..." Al mumbled, voice low and dangerous.

"Wha? Couldn't hear you. Speak up."

"My boxers," he replied again. "How could you do that, you monster?" Al looked up swiftly, brows furrowed angrily at his brother.

"Oh!" Ed exclaimed, remembering his want for revenge previously that day. "Um...I mean..." He quickly turned around and sprinted towards home. Al gave chase.

"You idiot! Now I have to sleep with my butt showing until Mom can buy me new ones!"

"There's still some good ones in the drawer!"

"And my cat! Give him back!" Al called, pulling out a hidden 'kotex' from his pocket and hurling it at Ed's head.

"Ahh! I'm sorry!" Ed yelled, running away as fast as his little legs could take him.

"What? I don't remember that at all, Al! You're probably making it up again."

"No I'm not! Why would I lie about something like this?" Al questioned, looking up to his brother's face.

Ed closed his eyes, brows scrunched together as he flopped off his back onto his stomach on the bed. "Well I don't recall. I think I'd remember being scared of you. If I was ever scared of you in the first place...But hey, do you remember our 'missiles' and 'stingrays'?" He smiled, chuckling at the memory.

"Brother, those happened on the same day." Al sighed exasperatedly.

"What? Nuh-uh." Ed looked incredulously down to Al, who was off-handedly wiping off a stain from his armored knee.

"Yah-huh. What were those things anyway? We never did find out."

Ed looked up to the ceiling, resting his chin in his hands. "Hm. Yeah, we never did. Hey Winry!"

"Yeah?" Winry called, stepping out of the small hotel kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron.

"Can you tell us what a 'kotex' is?"

Winry's eyes widened, face reddening slightly. "You don't know what a 'kotex' is?"

"Would I bother asking you if I already knew in the first place?" Ed retorted, looking slightly annoyed.

Winry closed her eyes and cleared her throat. She almost wanted to punch him for being so ignorant. Wasn't he already fifteen? She sighed, resting her shoulder against the wall. "It's a brand of tampon, Ed."

Al and Ed looked at her, obviously not understanding. "What's a tampon?"

She giggled, lips pulled back in a mischevious grin, sitting down next to Ed on the bed, enjoying every second his face changed from confusion to utter disgust as she explained what tampons were used for. Winry knew if Al could have facial expressions, surely his would have done the same.

Just a little drabble I thought up of while trying to write the next chapter for Kidnapped. How I strayed from kidnappings and child abuse to tampons, I haven't the slightest clue. But yeah. I feel as though the ending was a little rushed, or lacking. Oh well. I haven't written in a while. Ima lil' rusty :) Tell me what you think! I'd love to hear your input.