Hello everyone! Ok, so I decided to depart from my usual fandom (Fruits Basket) and try a Fullmetal Alchemist story. - For all my regular readers, don't worry, I promise to continue "Quand on se retrouve encore" and possibly write a KyoxHaru story after that. Well, I absolutely love this pairing, but so far this story has been quite a challenge for me...writing first person, in present tense, from an 11 year old's POV...gah! But I hope it's turning out all right!
Just a note: Yes, this is an elricest story. That means it contains incest and yaoi relations! Also, it is set before the brothers try human transmutation, so they are both quite young. If this bothers you, don't read it! As far as the rating goes, it is K+ right now, but in two chapters I'm increasing the rating to M. Consider yourselves warned! -
Please enjoy and review!
"I want to touch you again, Niisan."
I jolt up in my bed, flashing the other boy an abashed grin and hoping the darkness will hide my flushed cheeks. "Al?" I manage to stutter, biting my lip as my heart clenches in my chest. I never expected this, never hoping that he might voice the desire I had hidden in the back of my mind for many years. I really want to believe what he's saying. Forcing my body to relax, I try to meet his glowing stare, longing for reassurance. 'Dammit!' I curse his emotionless steel face.
"Isn't that weird?" Al continues, not even pausing to consider my shock. I am surprised. Doesn't he realize how awkward this sounds? It seems like he doesn't remember. Was it so terrible that he's already pushed it from his mind?
No, that's not possible. There's no way he could ignore what happened between us, not when it meant so much to me. We might have been only children at the time, but some memories never go away. There's just no way. I clench a wad of blanket in my fist. I can't let him see the tears in my eyes.
Tricia Elric. I stare at the stone in front of me, tracing each letter in my mind. But the words mean nothing. They aren't mom. They aren't the hands that comfort me when I fall down and hurt myself. They aren't the warm embrace I run to in the middle of the night when I'm afraid and can't get to sleep. They aren't good enough to be her!
My stomach feels painfully empty. I study the ground, trying to ignore the onlookers' sympathetic murmurs. They try to pretend they understand, but they just don't! They can't really see how scared I am right now. I don't know what I'm going to do when I get home tonight. How will I go to sleep without her there to kiss me goodnight? How will I cry without someone there to hold me?
I think I am going to throw up. Auntie Pinako's hands feel like ice on my shoulder. I don't like her touch. It just doesn't feel right. It's too different, too foreign. Her fingers aren't soft like mom's. They're cold and clammy like a frog. I shiver.
Winry tries to comfort me, nudging my arm and flashing a teary smile. But I can't look at her. 'I have no right to bother her with my problems,' I look away, slumping my shoulders. 'Not after she's lost so much.' I remember the day she found out that her parents had died in the war. Running home, I clutched mom's skirt, never believing she could go. I always assumed that she would be there for me, for both Al and I. It just couldn't happen to our family. I glare at the ground, hiding my face from my blonde friend's gaze as I brush a mound of dirt with my heel.
At my feet, I sense another trembling form. Al. As I stare at his messy brown locks, my heart clenches suddenly, like someone is trying to rip it out. "Al?" I whisper under my breath, reaching one shaky hand to stroke his back. I hate the sound of his sobs. The people around me don't matter anymore. I only care about easing his pain, forcing the lump from my throat as I kneel beside him on the slippery grass. I have to do this. For mom.
"Niisan?" He manages to croak, accepting my touch with a forced smile. "I just," rattling with fear, the younger boy shifts his weight, leaning against my arm. "I miss her already!" His words comes a little too loudly as he dissolves into tears once more. "I miss her!"
I don't know what I should do. Opening my mouth, I try to find my voice, but it cracks as I hold back my own tears. "Al," I have to be strong. Mom called me a big boy once. I'm probably too old to break down like my brother and sob.
Tugging on his smaller form, I pull him up, meeting Winry's concerned stare with a nod. She shouldn't worry. It's my job to take care of Al, because I promised her, I swore that I would. Looking back towards the younger boy, I struggle to keep a stony face. "Everything's OK." I can't believe my own lie.
His bottom lip quivers. "Niisan?" His shoulders collapse as he hides his face in his hands. "Niisan, it's not," Al shifts his gaze to his feet, "that's not true! It," he chokes on his sobs. "It can't be!"
As his voice rises sharply, the people surrounding us turn to stare. Their eyes are soft, but I'm still annoyed! Why do they have to watch everything we do? They aren't in charge of me! Auntie reaches to grab his shoulder, but I stop her. Her hands look like dead tree branches against Al's soft skin. Completely out of place. "Mom should be," I mutter under my breath, not really caring who hears, "she should be the one holding him right now." Why isn't she here? Why?
Replacing the old woman's touch with my own, I wrap one arm around Al's shoulder, biting my lip until I taste metal in my mouth. He can't see my pain. I have to be a big boy now. "Shh," my voice sounds surprisingly steady. "Mom wouldn't want you to cry."
His eyes slide shut, and I feel him relaxing against my body. "I know, Niisan," he murmurs, trying to catch his breath. "It's just really scary. I don't understand."
I don't understand. Why did this happen to us? Staring ahead with bleary eyes, I try not to watch as a group of men cover the casket with dirt. They're taking mom away from us, and I can do nothing to stop them. If I pretend it isn't really her in the wooden box, I'll only hurt more when I realize the truth. At least that's what Winry told me. But it's too hard to take her advice. As I lean against Al's head, I feel like my body is frozen, like the time I got stuck in the snow and mom had to pull me out. But she isn't here to save me this time, no matter how much I pretend.
Feeling desperate, I clutch Al closer to my chest, needing his warmth. It just seems right, because it's something familiar, and I crave it.
"Niisan?" Al's voice comes as a tiny squeak as I feel the top bunk shift above me. "Are you still awake?"
"Yeah," I mumble, finding it difficult to hear my own words over the bed's creaks. I roll over, slamming my head into my pillow as I try to get comfortable. I shouldn't have given him the top! It's hard enough to sleep without dealing with a new bed! Twisting under the unfamiliar sheets, I glance towards the window. The sun's already starting to peek through the curtains, but still I don't feel tired. "What time is it?"
"I think it's almost morning," he whispers unnecessarily. His tone sounds slightly crackly, like he has a really bad cold. But I know he isn't sick, even after listening to him sniffle into his blanket for hours. "Niisan, I-," he pauses slightly. "I'm just scared to close my eyes sometimes, because I dream about her, and then, when I wake up," his voice trails off, "I feel so sad."
My head starts to hurt. Nodding in agreement, I study the wall, trying to ignore the growling in my stomach. "Yeah," I mutter, deciding not to tell him how many times I've had the exact same dreams. I hate being alone in the house now, because every time I turn a corner, I expect to see her standing there. I sometimes glance into the kitchen, imagining the smell of her cookies baking in the oven or the sound of a pot boiling on the stove. But soon I realize that I'll never find her here, no matter how hard I look, and I have to leave the room and cry.
Lost in my own thoughts, I don't notice my brother's movements until he climbs off the ladder and sits down on my bed. Gasping softly, I study his moist eyes, cringing at how dark they have become. I'm not sure he's slept since the funeral. "You know, Niisan," he mumbles, his voice becoming faint as he stares at me, "it's OK to cry sometimes, when you're really sad."
No, it isn't. Not when I have to be there to make you feel better. "Yeah, I know," I can't bear to look at his swollen eyes, because they show all the sadness I've tried to ignore in myself. It feels like someone is kicking me in the stomach, like I'm screaming but I can't make a sound. 'Why, Al? Why do we have to go through all this?' Falling back onto the mattress, I study the bed above me. 'Why can't I make you feel any better?'
The bed rattles again, and I gasp as I feel Al lay down beside me. "What?" I exclaim a little too loudly, flipping around to meet his hopeful gaze.
"Is it OK, Niisan," he quivers slightly, hiding his face in his hands. "If I could stay here tonight, I think, well," sniffling to himself, he takes a deep breath, "maybe it'll feel like we have mom back, and I could-."
My stomach jumps at the thought, heat spreading through my body as I remember the way his touch made me feel at the funeral. Something comfortable, and right. Something to keep me from feeling so alone. "Nah, Al!" I force my voice to relax, trying to sound natural. I'm the big brother; he shouldn't know how much I need him to comfort me. "What are you talking about? You never slept with mom! We're too old for something like that!"
"Niisan," he whimpers, ignoring my weak protests as he reaches to clutch my arm. "I'm really, really scared. I don't feel like I'm too old!"
As he makes contact, I feel a tingle spreading through my veins. My skin heats up on its own, and suddenly I can't bring myself to pull away. 'What in the world?' I ask, stunned by my reaction to his touch. We always play together, grabbing each other and wrestling over toys. But it's never felt like this before. I've never needed to be next to him like I do right now. Pushing my confusion away, I gaze into his glittering eyes, feeling my breath quicken. His stare reminds me of the one Winry's dog gives me when I'm getting ready to feed him, and as I study his excited face, I can't say no. "Oh, all right," I slide closer to the wall, spreading a blanket over his shoulders as I invite him to calm down. "But just tonight, OK?"
Nodding, Al gives me a smile. He almost looks happy, like the cheerful little boy that used to play with me and follow me around all day. He almost looks like the family I used to have. "Ok, Niisan," he snuggles against my chest, relaxing as he rests his head against my shoulder. "Thank you."
"It's fine," I promise immediately, not thinking as I pull him into my arms. Resting my fingers on his side, I sigh to myself. His body feels so soft and warm compared to the cold air on my back, making me remember the time I jumped into a stream in the middle of winter and mom had to wrap me in her coat and carry me home. Just like back then, I'm glad to be held. "It's OK."
My eyes slide closed, and I notice his heart pounding against my arm. Focusing on the sound, I start to feel like I might finally fall asleep. "Niisan," he breathes against my neck. It tickles, making me shiver slightly, but for some reason I want him to do it again. "Good night."
"Good night," I pat his head, smiling down at him as he squirms against my side. My face heats up for no reason, and it feels like my stomach is bouncing inside of me, but still I can't let go of him. I don't understand why I feel like this, but I like it.
Watching him as he closes his eyes, I note the kind smile on his face. He looks so nice, so pretty. 'Why am I thinking about this?' I groan, not really understanding why these thoughts are suddenly filling my head. 'Of course he looks nice to me, he's my brother!' I remind myself, forcing my eyes to close. 'He's the only person I have left in the world.' But this is different. I no longer feel warm like I did when mom used to hug me, but instead it seems like my chest is on fire. I am shocked as I feel a tug between my legs, blushing with both embarrassment and confusion. What's wrong with me tonight? 'Al what's happening?'
Shivers crawl down my back, and I don't feel so comfortable anymore. But I still can't pull away. And that makes me sick. 'Why am I thinking like this? I shouldn't. I can't-.' I refuse to let my tears fall from my eyes. 'Is there something wrong with my body?'