Synchronicity

--

With one breath, with one flow

You will know

Synchronicity

--

I never knew that it would go this far.

My brother and I always had been extremely close; even more so than other siblings. It was like having an invisible ribbon tied between us. Short, strong, and unwavering, it held us together during the best and the worst times of our childhood. If I cried, Ed was immediately at my side with softly-spoken words of reassurement. If he was angry, I'd flock to him and calm him with a grin and a silly joke. It was almost like being the same person. We always knew when one or the other was in trouble. Even when everything around us came falling down, our bond brought us comfort and happiness.

The ribbon pulled us close when our father left. It wrapped tighter around our hearts when mom got sick. It's hold only grew when she passed away.

The ribbon's limits were often tested but it never gave out. It never took my brother away from me, or me away from him.

But eventually, the ribbon began to wear and the firmly woven fibers stretched and frayed from too much tension.

And one night, it finally ripped in two.

--

It's quiet in our room at the inn. The plainly made bed is used as my prop to sprawl out on, offering imagined relief for my imagined exhaustion and the imagined aching of my feet. It's all in my thoughts, since I can't feel any of it. Any of what Brother is feeling at the moment.

As if on cue, Ed stomps into the small room, a towel thrown haphazardly over his shoulder and a grimace that could kill the average person smeared across his face. It isn't a becoming look, but I've grown so used to seeing it lately that it barely even bothers me anymore.

"Alll!" he whines, tossing the damp towel to the floor, "I can't wait to go to sleep. I feel like I got run over by a parade."

I laugh. "It can't be that bad."

He tosses me a serious look over his shoulder before grumbling "You have no idea."

He's right. I don't.

I sigh and fiddle with the large and awkward gloves, my "hands", as Brother turns the light out and slinks into bed, his auto-mail creaking the entire time. His sigh of relief echoes hollowly in my helmet as his head hits the pillow.

"Night, Al."

Watching him laying there, I have a sudden urge to speak. I don't have a particular topic in mind. I just want to spill out the long and rambling sentences flitting through my thoughts, anything to keep the silence away when Brother is asleep. I feel confused inside. Like there's something at the very bottom of all these confusing words I keep thinking that needs to be said out in the open, and that when I finally sort it all out, I'll realize what it means. It's a strange feeling.

I mentally tug on our ribbon, sewn together again, but weaker than before. Our ribbon doesn't work as well, now that I'm in this armor. I wonder if Brother can feel it, though, because I need him to be awake. I need him.

But he's already dead asleep, oblivious to the pulling on my end. I sigh. My efforts are futile. Nothing stands between Brother and his sleep. Not even me.

There's the faint sounds of him breathing now, which is of slight comfort to me.

"I love you, Brother." I whisper even though he won't hear me but I like saying it.

The jumbled mess of words rises in me again, and I can't help but wonder just how much do I love him? I mull over this for a few minutes, letting soul-fire eyes blink out, sinking into a deep and empty state of false-sleep.

I didn't know just yet how far my feelings for him would go.

I didn't know until years later, when I finally returned to my body, and to my Brother.

--

To be continued...

A.N.

Hello all! This is my very first Fullmetal Alchemist fanfic, so I hope it doesn't suck too terribly.

Please let me know what you think, because I'd love to be able to continue this.

The lyrics are from "Synchronicity" by The Police.