A/N: So, I started this fic a long time ago with a specific sort of end goal in mind, a twist ending if you will.

Probably the last time I looked at this was in November of 2015, and when I found it again, I decided to erase what I'd already written and start anew, so I hope you enjoy this story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Al could well remember the day his brother had found a kitten soaking alone in the rain, and had cried when their mother wouldn't allow him to keep it.

Little Edward had honestly been heartbroken when Trisha said no. Al had watched from behind a corner as Ed tearfully begged her to let him. But no, Trisha had been adamant in her decision.

So it was with many tears and much reluctance that Edward let Alphonse help him find a comfortable carboard box and a few too-small shirts to stuff in it, then find a place to leave the kitten.

Once Ed had set the box down with the kitten inside it, he had seemed to pull himself together a little. That may have been because of Al, he was a little sorry to say, because Al had cried more than a little at the time as well. In the short time he'd known the tiny animal, he had forged quite a connection to it. It was more than likely that Ed had stopped his tears to be strong for Al, which Al quite appreciated.

What Al could not, however, understand was why his mother refused to let them keep the cat. It was only a tiny creature, and even it did grow to get very big, couldn't possibly eat that much on its own.

But as Al leaned over to pet the precious kitten one last time, a small tear dripped from his cheek and fell to land on the kitten's nose. She sneezed, licked her paw and wiped it over her face once, then shook her entire body out as if it hadn't just been her nose that got wet.

Al sneezed, then again. And again. Ed pulled him gently away from the box and looked at his younger brother in concern. "You alright, Al?"

Al nodded, rubbing his nose furiously. "M-hmm. I think I just got a bunch of her fur in my n-n-nACHOO!" Al sneezed again. He smiled wrly through another. "I think I ought to step away, brother."

Ed grinned slightly, though sadly. "Yeah." He looked back at the kitten in the box, who mewed at them cheerfully while exploring the confines of her new temporary home. "Let's go home, huh?" He tousled Al's hair roughly, then slung his arm around the younger boy's shoulder and led him away, still sneezing.

Edward and Alphonse were in the town of Herondale, yet again searching almost fruitlessly for the Philosopher's Stone. And yet again, there was nothing.

Even though Ed was constantly reassuring Al that they would find the stone, Al still felt sometimes as if they were doomed to fail. Like something was deliberately keeping them away from it. It was most frustrating, though what was even more frustrating was Al's current state.

Right at that moment, Al was sitting cross-legged in a dark alley, watching as the sun set slowly in between the buildings. The alleyways lined up perfectly, allowing someone in Al's position to watch the beautiful sunset at his leisure.

And in his arms was a small, furry companion. It purred happily, arching its back underneath Al's careful metal fingertips, turning round and round on the metal legs, kneading on his loincloth.

Al only wished he could feel it. He couldn't feel the soft rumble of the cat's purr, or the warmth of its paws, or its kneading on his legs. He looked sadly away from the sunset to the cat, who appeared quite content in contrast with its new friend.

"I wish I could feel your fur," Al whispered to it, hugging it gently to his breastplate. It mewed softly, as if it understood, then climbed up onto the flar surface of his armor and wrapped itself around Al's head, and promptly fell asleep.

"Yo, Alphonse!" His brother's voice called loudly, and it took all of Al's willpower not to hush him. The blond-haired boy stepped into view, glancing both ways in search of his brother. Spotting him, Edward's golden eyes brightened, and the teen headed toward his younger brother.

"Hey, Al. What's up?" The question soon died in his mouth as he spotted the alleycat fast asleep around Al's neck, and he smiled softly. "Ah, I see."

He held out a gloved hand and gently petted it its full length while he spoke. "I was at the train station just now. There are no trains leaving here for either Fairchild, Lightwood, or Wayland until tomorrow, so I guess we're just gonna have to stay here for the night."

Al nodded gently, so as not to disturb the cat. "Okay. Have you found a place to sleep yet?"

Ed looked around the alley thoughtfully. "Well, this place looks pretty nice. I could make do with that cardboard box over there," he said with a slight grin, while Al would have rolled his eyes if he had them.

"Funny, brother. Really, though."

Ed nodded assent, scratching at the cat's ears. "Yeah. You remember that supposed shaman guy Magnus from earlier?"

"The one we thought might know something about the stone? What about him?"

"He also owns an inn in town, and has offered us a place to sleep for the night, so we're set."

Al nodded, then shifted his soulfire eyes back to the fading sun. "It's beautiful, isn't it brother?"

Ed watched as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon. "Yeah, brother, it really is."

"I want my body back, Ed," Al said softly, and Ed knew that if the armor could have cried right then, he would have.

"I know, Al. And I'll get it for you, I swear."

"I know you will, brother."

Three weeks. That was how long it had been since Al had gotten his body back, and he would have liked to say he'd never been happier. Except he wasn't.

Well, on a sort of spiritual level, he was. Al finally had his body back, and no longer had to live inside that ghastly armor.

Physically, if that was possible, Al was not a happy camper. His body had been in disuse, almost like he'd been in a coma, for four years. His muscles had atrophied beyond belief, and still cramped atrociously if he so much as stood for more than five minutes.

Edward visited him every day. Even though he was family, as well as Alphonse's only living kin, the hospital still wouldn't let him stay beyond visiting hours. Ed had had more than one fight with the nurses, but always left at Alphonse's entreaty at the end of the day, promising to be back bright and early the next.

The men from Mustang's team were also frequent visitors, as well as the man himself. Al had been elated to see Lieutenant Havoc stride into his room on the third day at the hospital, and beyond ecstatic to see Colonel (sorry, General now) Mustang walk into his room without the help of the ever faithful Colonel Hawkeye on the fourth.

They always brought him little gifts, usually games for him to play either when he was alone or when he was with friends. Food was also a big favorite to bring, for both Al and the soldiers.

Al loved to eat his food, and the soldier loved to watch their long-time friend finally be able to eat the things he'd been longing for. For instance, Gracia Hughes had promised to cook he, Ed, and the whole of Team Mustang a humungous dinner, consisting solely of the sorts of things Al liked to eat, which Al was already appreciated and wishing more and more often that he could just get out of the hospital.

One day, however, was a little different. It was just Ed who came in, and with him came a medium-sized box. He set the box on the bed, turned around and shut the door. Al peeked curiously at the box.

"What's this, brother?"

Ed grinned. Slowly, he opened the flaps on the box, though his surprise was ruined when a loud MIOU came from the box.

Al's eyes widened, and he stared at his brother in shock. "Brother!" He said in astonishment. "Are you sure you're allowed to bring animals in here?"

Ed gave him an odd look. "Yeah, m-hmm. Martha said it was cool."

Al's eyebrow went up. "And when exactly did you start calling Doctor Jones by the name of Martha?" He asked, holding out his thin arms for the warmth of the small animal.

Edward blushed red, handing off the cat to his brother. "Ummm, yesterday."

Al smiled at the mostly hairless cat in his lap, petting its head gently. "And why is that, brother?" He pushed.

"Be-because she asked me to," Ed mumbled.

Al decided to have mercy on his brother and instead continued in another direction. "Does the he already have a name?"

"What?" Edward asked, startled by the change.

"The cat," Al hedged. "Does he have a name?"

"Oh. Yeah, uh, Wyatt Blue Grassi-Hoying."

Again, Al's eyebrows went up. "That's quite a name."

Ed glared. "I didn't name him, his old owners did. They said they couldn't care for him anymore because they were always so busy, and didn't want to leave him alone anymore. So they gave him to me."

Al again smiled at the cat. "Hello there, Wyatt, it's nice to meet you!" The he glanced, startled, at Edward. "Wait, does that mean I get to keep him?"

Ed nodded, grinning. "Yep! You're finally getting your cat!"

Al smiled, then held the cat close against his chest, cuddling it. He could feel Wyatt purring, and he could feel his warm skin and the little hairs that covered his little body.

Then he sneezed.

No, not Wyatt. Alphonse.

And he sneezed again. And again. And again.

Ed stared at his brother, concerned. "Al? Are you okay? Al?"

"I'm," sneeze, "fine," sneeze, "brother."

Ed snorted. "You don't sound fine," he observed. He held out his hands and gently look a freaked-out-looking Wyatt from Alphonse's arms.

"Brother!" Al complained, then sneezed loudly again. At that moment, Doctor Jones opened the door to check on Al. Her eyes first noticed Edward, with the cat in his arms, before they moved to Al, who was still in the midst of a sneezing fit.

"Doctor," sneeze, "Jones!"

Her eyebrow went up. "Hello, Al. Alright, then?"

Alphonse nodded, frantically telling his body to stop sneezing.

It didn't listen.

Doctor Jones began to look concerned, and she looked to Edward. "Put the cat back in the box and take it out of the room," she directed, never taking her eyes off of Al.

Ed nodded quickly and did so, closing the door behind him. She stepped forward, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck.

"Are you having any trouble breathing, Al?" Martha asked, pressing it to his chest. At first, he shook his head. But then after a moment of indecision, he nodded. "My chest feels tight," he told her, then again sneezed.

Martha let out a small, disbelieving snort before wrapping her stethoscope around her neck and opening one of the medical drawers in the room. She pulled out a syringe of Epinephrine, and slowly injected into Al's arm.

A few seconds passed, and Al began to breathe normally. Edward entered a moment later, relieved to see his brother back to normal.

"So Doctor Jones," he started, then corrected himself at the doc's stare. "Martha, what's up with him."

She smiled, pulling open the door. "He's allergic to cat fur," Martha told him before leaving. "I suggest you find another home for that cat of yours."

Alphonse looked simply horrified, and Ed was torn between laughing and feeling bad for his brother.

He decided on the latter.