Dear Brother

For twelve years, Alphonse stayed away to give his brother a second chance at the childhood they never had. For twelve years, Aphonse wrote his story, chronicling everything that happened so that someday he could share those moments with his brother once again. These are his letters.

A.N. Here it is – the last little bit I've decided to write for Dear Brother. It feels really good to actually be completing a multi-chaptered work, even if this is just a part of a much larger story. I think I'll be ecstatic when I finally finish ABNE and I don't think Home or IP will ever actually be listed as complete because I may always come up with another story to add.

Anyway, I want to thank everyone who has been following these letters – and the other stories as well. Honestly, this is the first long work I've felt motivated to continuously work on and keep expanding and I have all of you to thank for that. I honestly can't bring myself to go more than a week without writing something because I know that there are so many people waiting to read the next chapter. Even when life gets busy or my muse decides to abandon me, I push through and write something. I used to write only for myself but now I write for you guys. Your support continues to encourage and inspire me. I know I don't respond to every review. I will always try to respond if you ask a question that needs to be answered or if your review is particularly inspiring. It would take too much time away from writing to reply to each review I get. But I do read them all and I am grateful for them. Whenever I get writers-block I just look at my profile and see all of the reviews and they remind me to get my butt in gear because the people are waiting to find out what happens next. So thank you all for your continued support.

Now I'm going to let you read this last little installment. It wasn't something I planned to do from the beginning but I decided it would be fun and a good writing challenge. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

Rating: This story is rated K+

February 2, 1915

Ed leaned into Al's side as he opened the book and started reading the letters his brother had written for him. The first phrase surprised him and he had to look up at the date again before he understood and laughed, tilting his head back to look up into his brother's inquisitive eyes.

"You know I celebrate my birthday on January fifth now, right?"

Al smiled. "I thought it might be different. Why January fifth though?"

Ed shrugged and looked back at the letter to keep reading. "It's my adoption day."

"That makes sense."

Silence fell between them as Ed kept reading, pausing every now and then to comment on something.

"Dr. Marcoh, huh? I wondered what happened to him."

"I should have figured you'd be weak – I saw your body that time I went through the gate with Ling to get out of Gluttony's stomach."

"I don't remember anyone named Yoki." Al laughed at that.

February 19, 1915

Ed smiled as he read Al's descriptions of the food in Xing. He wished he could have been there to actually see his brother's reactions to all of the new smells and flavors after have been deprived of them for so long.

"Hah! I wasn't eating anything but milk at the time, Al – well formula anyway." He said out loud after reading Al's concerns after his health.

"Well I didn't know that then."

The grin faded as he kept reading. War, borders closing – Ed knew from his history classes just what happened to Xing in those days and he realized, suddenly, that his brother would have been caught up in all of that.

"The war. You were there during the war?" He sat up and looked at Al with worry in his eyes. Obviously, Al was fine now but what had he faced while all of that was going on.

Al nodded solemnly but gestured back to the letters. "Keep reading. That's not for awhile yet."

March 7, 1915

Al's frustrations at being weak and stuck in Xing… Ed could understand that. He remembered what it was like to be weak and bedridden after his automail surgery – both times. It was easier the second time around, having not come after a traumatic experience and with his parents there to comfort and support him. It wasn't hard to imagine what Al must've been going through during his recovery – unable to care for himself and having to rely on strangers.

It was the anger in the words that surprised him. Al wasn't one to lose his temper easily and for it to be so far gone as to have come out in the writing – the letters rough and jagged, the paper torn and pock-marked in places where the pen had come down too hard, and then those shocking words… scratched out and quickly followed up by slower, guilty strokes.

How was it that Al had managed to put so much emotion into, not just the words, but the way they were written? He leaned heavily against his brother and fought back the urge to cry as he read the guilt ridden words. He felt a strong arm tighten around his shoulder and knew that Al was reading the letter as well.

It wasn't like Al to wallow in guilt like that – that was Ed's area of expertise. And it didn't make sense. Al had no reason to feel guilty. He couldn't have done anything wrong. There was nothing wrong with feeling frustrated and saying things you don't mean. Everyone does that. But this guilt and anguish – what was he talking about? What happened? It wasn't Al's fault! It couldn't have been. It couldn't…

"So I was shot." He muttered, rubbing the place on his chest where he knew – he knew – the bullet had once pierced him. The memory was still fuzzy. He wasn't sure he actually wanted to clear it up. But Al's letter was enough to confirm it.

In one sense, it was like reading a story – something that had happened to someone else and was all in the past. But Ed knew that it was real. Every word was real and this was his brother. It hurt to know that Al had gone through all of this alone – that he hadn't been able to prevent his little brother's suffering. That was his job. He was the big brother. He was supposed to take care of Al – to take on the guilt and the burden so that Al wouldn't have to. But the table had turned.

His brother gave him another squeeze and he felt a deep, shaky breath rise and fall against his back. Was Al remembering that night now? Remembering the guilt and fear? Ed didn't want him to feel like that. He placed his flesh hand on top of Al's and squeezed tightly, his own fears and confusion choking his ability to say anything.

"Keep reading, Brother. The next letter explains everything."

March 8, 1915

The next letter was calmer – the words neat and precise. Ed took a deep breath to calm his own racing heart. Al hadn't just sprung anything on him suddenly. He wrote it like a story – beginning, middle, and end. It was much easier to take it all in like that. Al really was good at story telling.

But he couldn't stop his heart from pounding once more when Kimblee was mentioned. This was it. This was the event that changed everything. The suspense was too much and his eyes swept over the page quickly absorbing every word.

"Al! No!"

His mind jumped back in time in a sudden flash – nothing distinct – a loud bang, a vision of his brother's armor flying backwards, broken into so many pieces, his own voice, Al's voice.

"Brother!"

Laughter, shouts, pain.

His knuckles cracked and bled.

Another explosion.

A distant train whistle.

"I don't have time for this."

He remembered the pressure against his chest – lying there, unable to move, bleeding, desperate.

Then nothing.

Only Al's written words revealed to him what went on beyond the gate. He could only imagine what it was like to say goodbye to his brother in those moment – to ignore the pleas and do the only thing he could – to keep his promise.

He didn't blame Al for being mad at him. That wasn't how things were supposed to happen.

But to think that he waited there, after it was all over, desperately trying to think of another way – and he did. Ed's eyes flew open wide when he realized what Al had done. It suddenly made sense. It made perfect sense.

"You gave up your alchemy… for me?"

"You would've done the same for me. Are you okay?"

"Yeah… it's just a lot to take in. It explains a lot though."

It was then that Ed noticed the gentle pressure of fingertips against his scalp, running through his hair. He looked up at Al, curiously.

"Sorry." Al said, moving his hand away with a slight blush on his cheeks, giving Ed the impression that it was a habit his brother had picked up after getting his body back – when the ability to touch and feel must've been so new and wonderful. Now it was new and wonderful again because it was them – together again.

"It's alright. Don't stop." It felt good – soothing, relaxing, easing the tension that had built while reading the letter.

"Your hair is so short."

"I was growing it out this year. Dad didn't want me to look too much like the Fullmetal Alchemist while I was on my trip, so Mom cut it before I left. Does it bother you?"

"No, it's just different. I got used to you wearing it long." Al's gentle fingers resumed their course and Ed leaned into the touch while he continued reading.

"Where's the stone now?" he asked with a small frown.

"Probably gone. I gave it to Dr. Marcoh, like I wrote there. He should have used it all up by now. I haven't actually heard from him in years so I not sure."

Ed nodded and was about to turn the page when realization dawned on him. "Dr. Marcoh is the one who healed Uncle Jean!"

"Uncle…? You mean Lieutenant Havoc?"

"Yeah! He said someone used a Philosopher's Stone to fix his legs but he never got the guys name."

"I asked Dr. Marcoh to visit Havoc specifically. It seemed like the right thing to do considering what the homunculi did to him."

March 25, 1915

"Hey, Al. Do you think I could learn alkahestry?"

"I'm sure you could. Do you want to?"

"Yeah. I think I do. Will you teach me?"

"Of course."

April 17, 1915

"A Gate for the whole world… Al this is awesome. I've never thought about it that way. You should totally write a book about this or something."

"Sure." Ed didn't notice the yawn in his brother's answer. His mind was already racing through the theory of a World Gate trying to decipher what it could mean for both alchemy and alkahestry.

May 11, 1915

"I'm gonna head on to bed, Brother." Al extracted himself from his place between his brother and the arm of the couch. Ed didn't respond other than leaning forward a bit to keep himself upright. His eyes were locked on the letter he was reading, a concentrated frown creasing his brow.

"Brother?" Al tried to get the twelve-year-old's attention.

"Hmm?" Ed didn't look up.

"I laid out a futon for you in Edmund's room. He's a deep sleeper so he shouldn't wake up when you go in. Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"'kay." Ed responded automatically. Al was pretty sure his brother hadn't heard a word he was saying.

He shook his head and turned to head upstairs where his wife was likely already asleep. "Goodnight, Brother."

"Goodnight… shoe-shong." Ed snorted and Al rolled his eyes but he was unable to suppress his own smile as his gaze lingered on his brother's all too familiar smirk.

June 1, 1915

Ed liked Master Lao a lot and was glad Al had found a mentor in Xing. But he was just a surprised as Al to read about the book on terminating life. For half a moment, he wanted to hate the old man for trying to corrupt his little brother. But as he kept reading, he realized what Lao had done and was grateful.

June 30, 1915

Ed didn't want his brother to be part of a war. It was in the past. It was over now. But reading about it from Al's point of view felt like going back in time. It was like these things were about to happen now and Ed actually had a say in the outcome of it all. Except he didn't. And it looked like Al was going to have to face a war after all.

July 10, 1915

It was odd to think of May, Al's wife, as a princess trying to lead a clan. She was certainly brave and had a strong will and he knew first hand that she could fight. But she was just one woman – girl at the time. He remembered how young she had seemed when he first met her. To think they would put that kind of pressure on a little girl. It's one thing for two young boys to set out on their own and try to do the impossible. It's another for a whole clan to expect one girl to make decisions for all of them. Even with advisors… it's not fair.

His serious frown dissolved into amused snickers at the end of the letter though. "Sheesh, Al. You're such a sap."

August 21, 1915

Ed didn't want to think about the possibility of Al not coming back from Xing. He knew that Al was safe now – that no matter what was written in these letters, Al would be fine. It just seemed so real – and terrifying. And he didn't know which would have been worse – to receive those letters from a stranger and know for sure that his brother was gone or to spend his life searching for a brother who could never be found.

He'd been prepared to search – to travel the whole world looking for Al – but always with the belief that he would succeed, that Al was out there somewhere. He'd never once let himself think that Al could be dead. And he was so, so, so glad that none of Al's fears had come to pass. Al was alive. Al was here. Everything was fine.

September 8, 1915

It's not fair! Why did Al have to lose someone else? Why can't things just go right for us for once? Ed squeezed his eyes shut and turned the page. He didn't want to read anymore about Al's pain. The oath was far less heart-wrenching.

October 16, 1915

Ed smiled with pride when he read about Al's success with alkahestry and the boy with the broken leg. It was good. Al was good. He was wonderful. It was what Ed had always wanted for him – to be happy and successful. Al had to be loving his work as a medical alkahestrist.

Pinapples? What?

November 16, 1915

Ed blinked and flipped the page, looking for the rest of the letter. It cut off so suddenly with lots of room left on the page and the next page started a whole new letter. What?

January ?, 1916

Are their letters missing? There was no December letter. And the question mark in the date was confusing. Ed's breath caught when he realized what had happened – right then, right in the middle of writing a letter.

Ed bit his lip as he read about the battle and the number of people who had been lost or separated. And Al had nearly been killed too. "Damn it, Al. You need to be careful." He muttered.

March (maybe), 1916

That was a little mind-boggling. His little brother basically got engaged at fifteen? Ed thought maybe he should find it funny. If Al hadn't already gone to bed, he'd have probably teased him about it. As it was, Ed was mostly just bemused. Obviously it had worked out for the two of them since they were married now. Still, Ed logged the information in his mind for later teasing material. Only Al would find a way to get himself accidentally engaged.

May 4, 1916

Ed smiled. A real ocean. That's so cool. He'd seen pictures and heard stories about the sea but that was all it was to him – a story. Al had seen it though. He wished his brother was still awake so he could ask more questions about it. I wonder if there are really sea monsters and mermaids. For now he was just glad that Al had made it somewhere safe.

June 21, 1916

So. Not. Fair. Binan Suo sounded amazing – the university, the library, the scrolls, the very foundation of alkahestric science and Al got to see it all. Ed couldn't help but feel a little jealous as he read the letter. He was happy for Al, but how cool would it have been to see that place and spend hours studying together and just soaking in the knowledge?

But it was the Dragon's Light that made Ed pause and think. He flipped back to the letter about the World Gate and read it again. His mind was working quickly, trying to wrap his head around some new theory which didn't seem to want to solidify into something substantial. It was like his memories when they first started returning – so many bits and pieces and he knew that they made up some magnificent whole but he couldn't get them to fit together right – not yet anyway.

He wasn't even sure what he was grasping at. It was like some inkling in the back of his mind that this all fit together somehow – that it could be used. Al wrote that the Dragon's Light wasn't really useful but Ed was almost positive that there was a purpose for it. Why else would it exist? Nothing ever exists for no reason.

He eventually had to just close off that part of his brain so that he could get back to reading. He didn't have enough information yet to figure it out anyway. He'd think about it more later. Right now, he wanted to finish reading Al's letters. He'd barely made a dent in them.

Winter, 1916

When Ed saw the time gap and the lack of an actual date, he almost stopped himself from reading. He didn't want to know. Something bad had happened. That was the only reason Al would have left out the date.

His stomach hurt as he read about the colony and the university and everything, everyone that was lost. He was glad that Al was away when it happened but he wished… he wished something could have been done. It hurt to think about it. It wasn't fair. And for May to lose everyone… it was amazing that she could be as cheerful as she was now. But then – this was years and years ago. He supposed she must have found a way to heal and move on. She had Al and Edo now. That was something.

Ed just had to keep reminding himself as he read. This is the past. It's all in the past. They're fine now. But it was hard to imagine his brother shivering in a cold cave trying to write him a letter.

"You're not supposed to have nightmares, Al." he whispered into the night.

Spring, 1917

Ed wanted to think positively as he read Al's optimistic prediction about getting home in half a year. But he already knew it would take longer than that. He knew because Al had said he got to Central on his parents wedding day – that was March 3, 1918 – so at least a year from this letter. Ed didn't want to think about what might have caused the delay. They made it. That's what important. Keep reading.

He turned the page.

August, 1917

Ed was almost relived to read about Al's broken ankle and the sickness which caused most of their delay. Those were common things – annoyances compared to fighting for their lives against enemy armies. He would tease Al later for tripping – teacher would have smacked him for not taking better note of his surroundings.

Now Al just had to get through seven more months. Seven month until March. Surely there would only be more common delay which kept them for that long.

But Ed didn't really believe his own thoughts. He already knew about the wall. That thing still stood today, although the borders were no longer closed completely. He'd read in history books about the people who were killed trying to cross the border during the war. He knew that there was no way Al and May and Dr. Marcoh were going to get out easily. He almost wished that there was a way he could go back and tell Al not to take the risk. It was too dangerous.

Past. It's the past. Relax. Keep reading.

September, 1917

The length of the next letter told Ed what it was about before he actually started reading. His stomach twisted itself in a knot as he prepared for the worst.

Just go back, Al. Don't you dare get hurt.

The next letter didn't have a date.

Al's fear became his own as he read. He tried to imagine what could have driven his optimistic brother to write such hopeless words. But he couldn't do it. It was too much. His eyes stung. He wiped the tears away and kept reading.

"You'd better promise. You're not allowed to give up, Al."

He turned the page and stopped.

He didn't even read it right away. He just stared.

It wasn't a letter. It was barely a note – a scrap of paper glued to a larger sheet. It was torn and crumpled and clearly written in a rush. The words were smudged – smeared with dirt and probably tears and blood. He could see the years-old dried blood on the corner.

He couldn't breathe. His chest tightened, constricting around his heart. And the words he read… it was too real, too close. His brother had given up. The words were final. And suddenly it wasn't enough to keep telling himself that Al was alright. He needed to see his brother.

The book was discarded on the couch as he got up and rushed upstairs towards his brother's room. He stopped just short of barging in, knowing that May would be in there as well and not wanting to intrude. But he had to see Al.

He knocked hesitantly and then he waited. He shut his eyes tight against the tears which threatened to spill from them. He choked back the sob which welled up in his throat.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and Al was there, alive and whole. Ed wasted no time in burying his face against his brother's chest. He breathed in that now familiar scent that was his brother. He wrapped himself in the comfort of his brother's warm, flesh and blood arms.

He's fine. He's alive. I can tell him.

At some point, Al escorted him back downstairs, away from where his wife and son were still sleeping, and they sat on the couch together. Al didn't have to ask what had brought this on. He knew.

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed up with you. I thought you'd go to bed before you got that far."

His voice helped. Ed took a deep stuttering breath and tried to center himself in the present.

"It's okay, Brother. I'm alright."

Ed shook his head. "It's not that. I know you're fine. I just… I realized. If you hadn't been… I never would've gotten to tell you."

Al frowned. "Tell me what?"

Ed gulped and wiped away his tears, still sniffling. He felt foolish. It could have waited till morning. Al wasn't going anywhere. It was silly anyway. He wasn't some little kid.

But he needed to say it. It hadn't been said in far, far too long.

He reached beside him and picked up the book of letters, still open to the heart-wrenching page. He pressed his fingers over those last words and took a deep breath.

Then looking up at Al, he offered a small smile.

"I love you too, Brother."

Al's gasp was almost silent but then he was holding his brother close once more. "I know. You didn't have to say it."

Ed choked out something between a sob and a laugh. "Yeah, I did."

Al pulled back and smiled. "Why don't you read the next letter? It makes a lot more sense after that."

Ed nodded and turned the page.

Winter, 1917

Ed laughed through his tears at Al's enthusiastic greeting on the next page. Then he leaned heavily against Al's shoulder while he read.

"Ricochet effect…" It took Ed a second to figure it out and then, "You idiot!" He punched Al's shoulder hard but Al just laughed and tried to shush him.

"Keep it down, Brother. You'll wake May and Edo."

"You got shot!"

"I guess we're even then."

"Stop making jokes. This is serious!"

"It's not that big a deal. I'm fine, remember. Look." Al turned and pushed up his sleeve to expose the small scar on the back of his shoulder. "See, just a scar. It's not even that bad looking. It didn't hit anything vital and my arm still works just fine."

Ed scowled. "You're not supposed to get shot."

"I could say the same to you. Now are you going to keep reading or shall we argue about injuries some more. I've got a whole list of times when you shouldn't have gotten hurt while you were a State Alchemist."

Ed let out an irritated huff and turned back to the book. "It was still a stupid joke. The ricochet affect doesn't work without the armor. No shit."

Al just laughed.

Ed read the rest of the letter in silence. The previous letters certainly made more sense now that Al had a chance to explain what was going on. When he finished reading, he closed his eyes and offered up his own thanks for the young man who had saved his brother's life.

Then he hit Al again.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For volunteering yourself as a sacrifice. You said I could hit you for it later so I am now."

Al sighed and rubbed his arm. "I was a long time ago and we all survived. Are you really gonna hold it against me?"

"Nope!" Ed grinned. "I already hit you for it so we're even." Then he settled a serious look on his brother. "But you'd better not try anything stupid like that ever again."

Al smiled. "Yes, Brother."

They sat in silence for a few more moments and then Al stood up and stretched. "C'mon, Brother. It's late. I'm going to bed. You should too. We can talk more tomorrow"

Ed looked between Al and the book of letters, then asked, "Are there anymore nasty surprises or near death experiences in here?"

Al shook his head. "No, everything else happens here in Amestris. It's not all happy but that was the worst of it."

Ed nodded and considered the book a moment longer before flopping back on the couch and opening it up to the next letter. "I'll keep reading then."

"Brother, you need to sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm tired. I want to get to the part where you find me in Central."

"Why do I get the feeling you plan on finishing them all tonight?"

"Because you know me too well."

"That I do. Goodnight, Brother."

"Night, Al"

Winter, 1918?

Al's idea of excavating Xerxes was intriguing. Ed had to redirect himself back to the letter after drifting off in his own mind, contemplating the possibilities of what could be buried beneath the sand.

But those thoughts were pushed aside completely when Al started writing about his dad. Of course, Al didn't know at the time but that didn't stop anything he said from being true. Ed didn't feel any shame in admitting it now – he had thought of the Colonel as a surrogate father, despite how the man would tease him. And he knew his dad had loved him even then – else he never would have adopted me.

Al had always had that amazing ability to people and to see the truth behind their blustering exteriors. And he thought Al was right, too, that the Colonel had come to think of them both as sons. Dad's gonna be thrilled that I found him.

March 2, 1918

The day before the wedding! Ed almost jumped up and did a dance when he read the date. That meant Al had made it home safe – no more wild foreign adventures.

No… now he just had to live the next nine years apart from his brother.

Al's excited words about reaching Amestrian soil fed Ed's own emotions for awhile and he laughed at the exclamations about gravy and showers and pillows.

But his happiness quickly faded into worry as he finally realized how harshly Al's hopes were going to be crushed. Al was thrilled – ready to go home and be a family again. But he was about to discover how much things had changed. And while it wasn't bad per say… it was still going to be hard on him.

March 29, 1918

The near month-long time gap between letters was almost painful. That meant Al had been lost and confused for awhile. Ed had already heard the story from Al, so reading it again wasn't a big deal but reading all of his interior thoughts and feelings about it was rough.

Al's brief debate about custody scared him briefly. The thought that he might have been taken away from his dad… but Al wouldn't do that. It was pointless to get worked up about something that didn't happen. Al was just trying to get his thoughts out and it was all scattered anyway – more scattered than Ed had ever know Al to be. This whole thing… it really shook him.

Al was dead wrong about not belonging but his other concerns sort of made sense. He still thought Al should have stayed but maybe it did work out for the best this way. After all, they were together again and it was so much easier on both of them now that Ed has his memories back.

It surprised him though, that Al had planned on coming back. Al hadn't mentioned that. He wondered how long it would have taken. If he hadn't gotten his memories back, when would Al have come? His parents had considered telling him the truth about everything when he was older. Would Al's return have spurred that revelation?

He supposed it didn't really matter now though. He had his memories and he had his brother. And Al… Al had gone on to follow his dream and help people with alkahestry. He got married and had a kid. He had a good life. So what if they'd been separated. They were together now and they'd both been happy while they were apart. They just had a lot to catch up on now. That's all.

Al was right. It didn't matter how long or how far they'd been apart. They'd always be brothers.

July 4, 1918

Ed couldn't say he was happy about Al's decision not to go back to Resembool. But he understood Al's reasons. They had always planned to go home together. Ed had been back a few times now without Al. But the next time, they'd be together. It wasn't really home anymore. But it was still important.

October 17, 1918

Ed smiled as he read about Al working as a "doctor." The job suited him well.

February 29, 1919

"Ugh, seriously Al… I don't want to read about this. Couldn't you have just left it with – I'm engaged?"

Ed muttered to himself and fought back a blush as he turned the page.

November 16, 1919

Ed read the letter twice… then a third time.

It started out alright, if a bit depressing. Then it sort of dissolved into nonsense.

"Kittens and pudding…? What the heck is he talking about?"

He turned the page, hoping for some explanation.

November 17, 1919

He wasn't disappointed.

Ed laughed out loud and then smothered it with his sleeve, hoping he hadn't woken anyone up as he continued to snicker.

April 10, 1920

Is it just me or does twelve seem to be a turning point age? Ed thought as he read about twelve-year-old Ming.

October 23, 1920

He chewed on his lip as he considered Al's frustrations as a teacher. What would he have done in that position? It didn't seem right to hold Ming back from what she wanted to learn. But driving a wedge between her and her mother wasn't right either.

February 28, 1921

It didn't take Ed long to figure out what Ming had done. He started dreading the truth before he'd read halfway through the letter. And then he grew angry at a girl he had never met, would never meet, for putting his brother through that pain.

He shouldn't have had to face that again. It's not his fault. It's hers. How could she be so selfish?

But a voice in his head argued that they'd been no different. Maybe their reasons were different but they'd done the same thing. Al was right. It could have been so much worse. Ming got it easy. She had no idea just how much worse it could have been.

September 3, 1921

Reading about Al's wedding jitters was a welcome relief after Ming's story. Ed let himself get fully absorbed in it and started thinking up ways to tease his brother. It wouldn't be as much fun, so long after the wedding. But it was still his job, as best man, to heckle the groom a little.

October 7, 1921

"Honestly… I'm glad you don't remember more than that." Ed mumbled as he read about the wedding. The details about the wedding dress were more than enough and the ceremony sounded boring. As much as he would have liked to have been at the wedding, reading about it was just lame. As for the wedding night…

"Thank you, Al." He breathed a sigh of relief for his brother's refusal to give any details. I'm twelve. I don't need to know. And even if I was older – I don't need to know about it from my brother. I'll find out later… much later.

The pie though… the pie made him grin. Al could write about pie all he wanted.

January 2, 1922

Al's blustering over his impending fatherhood was cute. Ed yawned widely as he kept reading. It was really late. But he wanted to push through and finish so that they could talk about it all in the morning.

May 9, 1922

Ed had never doubted that Al would make a great dad someday. Al loved kids. Even when he was a kid himself he had enjoyed seeing babies or really anyone more than five years younger than him. And Al was so patient and caring. His fears were unfounded.

The mention of their birth father made Ed grit his teeth. That man had been gone for so long… Ed didn't really like to think about him. He had a real Dad now.

But Al had a point. He'd never had anyone to show him how to be a father and that just wasn't fair. Ed wasn't worried that Al wouldn't be a great dad. He could already see how good he was with Edmund. But Al shouldn't have had to be so unsure of himself.

July 21, 1922

He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he read about Edmund's birth and Al's joy in the occasion. Having met the boy now, Ed knew that being an uncle was going to be great. And he was starting to get used to the name too.

August 1, 1922

"You stole my line, Al."

January 18, 1923

Ed yawned again and leaned back against the arm of the couch. Reading about sleep was making him drowsy. Of course, the time of night and the fact that he'd been traveling for most of the day had nothing to do with it. Nope, nothing at all.

June 21, 1923

Al was gushing – like, actually gushing about his kid. "Sheesh, Al. You're as bad as Mr. Hughes was about Elicia."

The end of the letter caught his attention with the mention of coming back to Central. "When he finishes… when will that be?" he thought out loud. "That was four years ago. He's gotta be almost done. Does that mean he was planning on coming soon?"

If that was the case, it seemed that even if this trip hadn't been successful, Ed would have seen Al in Central within one or two years. The thought cheered him. Al had been planning on coming home all this time.

December 9, 1923

"Well at least you admit it."

April 7, 1924

May's letter was a surprise. Ed read it through a few times and found himself smiling at the end. He didn't know May very well yet but he could tell that they were going to get along. It would be nice to have a sister.

November 16, 1924

"Just two more, Al. Well… two and a half."

April 7, 1925

"A beard? Really?" Ed winced at the mental image of Al with a beard. No… he just couldn't fathom it.

October 29, 1925

Danger-magnet genes? Ed laughed at May's letter even as he mentally lectured his brother for getting himself sick. May was right – he was an idiot.

January 10, 1926

Reminder to self – Beat Al up if he ever thinks about getting himself sick to find a cure again. Just because something works does not mean it is the best way to go about doing things.

Ed conveniently chose this moment to forget all of the times he had done something stupid because it happened to work – his dad might have listed an extensive list of blown up buildings and destroyed property.

July 21, 1926

That was a curious thought. If he hadn't gotten his memory back – what would Al's return had been like? Would he have accepted the truth? Would he have given Al a chance to be his brother again? He wanted to say yes, especially since his parents would have been backing it up. But there really was no way to know for sure.

As for Edo copying everything he did… that was a bit worrisome. Ed suddenly realized that he was going to have to set a good example for his nephew or else Al and May and his own parents were seriously going to start breathing down his neck for corrupting the boy.

August 12, 1927

It was the last page, Ed realized as he flipped it back and forth – the last letter. The date confirmed it. Al had written this letter yesterday and put it in the book just before he handed it over to he read. Ed smiled wondering what Al had written, unaware that they would encounter each other on the road the very next day.

Ed read the letter. And then he read it again.

He couldn't believe it.

No wonder Al had been so amazed.

The timing had worked out so perfectly.

Al was done. Pjoca was safe.

And Al was coming to Central in a month.

Even if Ed hadn't seen Edo at the grocery, even if he hadn't come to Raverk at all – Al would still have been home soon.

Al had never forgotten him, never abandoned him. He only left knowing that he would one day return.

Ed felt a little bad for doubting his brother at first – for assuming the worst and reacting out of anger. It probably wasn't the greeting Al had expected… or was it? One of the other letters did mention a predicted punch in the face for being gone so long.

He put the book of letters down on the coffee table and allowed his body to slide down, spreading out along the length of the couch. His mind continued to run through everything he had just read as sleep started to take over his senses.

It's amazing how the world works… how everything comes together at just the right time. Everything flows together, in and out… like that Dragon's Pulse thing… all is one and one is all.

I'm glad. I'm glad Al got to meet May and get married and have Edo. It's good this way. It's good. I'm glad.

Thanks for the letters… Brother.