This is my first brotherly lovely Edward and Alphonse story, so please, please, PLEASE! Do NOT take this as Elricest! If you want to, please just don't read this...

So, if you think the title of this story might sound familiar and you've read "Let Your Guilt Go," you're right, it should; that's where I got the name from. There's a sentence I used in "LYGG" and while I was writing a scene in this story, the title still undecided, the expression "finding home" came to my head, and as soon as I typed it, I was like, "That's it. This is the name." If you're not sure where I got the name from, here's the sentence it's from in my first story.

"He (Edward) cried the first night he'd shared with Al in two years on the other side of The Gate, the brothers holding each other as tears streamed down their cheeks, finding comfort and home."

You see? Well anyway, since I don't really like the way the first series ended (the way the movie ended; it's good, but I wanted the brothers to stay in Amestris!), I decided I should add a few tender moments that (would) occur right before the end of Conqueror of Shamballa. Please let me know if I did okay, and let me know if you see anything that needs fixing. And, in case you aren't sure, this is based on the 1st anime series. I don't own anything, because I'm not the creator. Hiromu Arakawa created this masterpiece of a series. Enjoy!

StarKatt427

Edward wearily drug his feet up each of the steps that led into the house he'd lived in for a good portion of his time beyond The Gate, feeling exhausted and worn, but somehow, for the first time in two years, awake and alive. He felt the ache of his automail leg as he forced himself to move forward, yet it was just another reminder that he'd survived. The car's engine hummed quietly, and Edward heard a gruff voice ask, "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

Ed turned to look into the faces of the rocketry team, comprised of the four men he'd been around who knows how many times over the past year, all fair skinned with pale blonde hair and eyes ranging from midnight to sky blue. But he didn't see the fifth face, the one he still found himself searching for, the one with the lightest shade of hair and the brightest aqua eyes he'd ever seen. A face that had been so painfully familiar, he still hadn't been able to look directly in his eyes.

"We should be asking you that," he replied, a smile barely breaking across his face. "You've all done so much for me, and then this. You didn't have to take us home."

"No, we wanted to," the smallest man, Rolf, replied. "You were such a good friend to him, and with all that's happened…" He sighed, smiling sadly.

No, I wasn't. I was the worst. "Is there anything we can do?"

"No, no. All we're going to do is drive back to the morgue and be with him. That's all we can do right now, besides make the burial preparations. But, are you sure you can stay in that house?"

Edward looked back toward the building, forcing himself not to admit he wasn't the least bit thrilled about the idea of sleeping in the intimidating building. "Yeah, it's okay."

Alfons Heiderich was dead. The thought seemed unfathomable to Edward, but he knew it was true and he'd never seen his friend again. Death had become so common to him over the last several years, yet it hit him with a burning hurt every time. He forced this sorrow away, then nodded at the men, forcing a shaky smile.

"Try to get some sleep you three," another man, Bard, said, nodding back, the pain on his face barely visible in the night's blackness.

The vehicle had just begun to move when a female voice called out, "Wait!"

"Noah?" Edward watched as the young Roma woman ran forward, grabbing hold of the car with both hands, her back to the two boys behind her.

"Please, if it's alright, do you think you could ask Miss Gracia if I could stay with her for the next few days?" she asked, voice soft, still filled with tears. "Please."

"Noah," Ed said, walking quickly down the steps toward her, "you can stay here. You were already staying here." She turned to Edward, and it took all of his will power not to let his gaze travel down the front of her dress to the crimson stain that coated the fabric.

Alfons' blood.

"Edward, you have no idea how thankful I am for both you and Alfons. You took me in, let me live here. You made me feel like I belonged. And how did I repay you? I went and caused all this madness." She hurriedly wiped her eyes, then gazed at him with the strangest brown orbs, all emotions hidden behind them, yet revealing everything she felt: sorrow, anguish, pleas for forgiveness.

"Noah, you-"

"No, Edward. It was my fault. I accept that. But, even though I can't ever make it up to Alfons, I can repay you." She smiled softly. "And besides, this will be the first time you've really had with your brother, right? I don't want to impose." She smiled over Edward's shoulder at the other boy, then turned away. "Is it alright?" she asked Rolf.

"Yes, I suppose if she won't mind," he replied, opening the door of the vehicle.

Edward lightly laid his hand on her shoulder, somehow not minding that she was taller than him. "Thanks. For everything."

Noah gazed at him, eyes bright as she smiled, the first real smile he'd ever really seen on her dark face. She touched his hand, squeezing it softly. "Thank you too. Thank you so much." She turned, then climbed into the car.

Ed backed away, standing on the curb as he caught one last glimpse of the woman as the car drove away into the night. He watched the vehicle until it was out of sight, sighing deeply. When would he see her again? Tomorrow? The day of the funeral? He didn't know.

"Brother?"

Edward, still finding himself caught off guard by the familiar, gently voice of his baby brother, took a swift intake of breath.

Because he wasn't in armor anymore. His brother was back, flesh and blood and breathing, and Edward still found it hard to believe he'd actually saved his most important person.

He turned around, gazing with utmost gentleness at Alphonse, noting the way he seemed to be half hidden in shadows as he leaned back against the wall of the house. He still had his cloak's hood up, a cloak almost identical to the one Edward had once wore, hiding most of his facial features; but not his eyes, gray, timid eyes that watched his older brother with slight apprehension.

Edward hated the look he saw in those eyes. He walked toward Al, slightly annoyed that he couldn't see his brother's face properly. He hadn't seen or felt his brother's human body in over seven years; he wouldn't be deprived of it now.

"Al, why are you hiding?" Ed asked playfully as he reached him, surprised by the fact that he was actually taller than his younger brother; Al, who had always been the tallest. This, of course, was his own fault, he told himself. He knew if they'd never tried to attempt his plan of Human Transmutation, Al never would have gone without a human body, without sleeping, eating, or crying for years. He'd stolen all of this from Alphonse, trapping him a cold a suit of armor that was more of a prison than a body.

Pushing his morbid thoughts away, he reached for Al's hood, throwing it back to reveal the physically twelve, mentally seventeen, year-old boy's face, remembering that Alphonse was back to normal, that he was safe and alive.

And he was with him.

Alphonse smiled sheepishly, silver eyes reflecting the glow from the street lamps and moonlight. "Are you sure it's alright for me to be here? I mean, I want to be here, but is it okay?"

Edward brushed his fingers through Alphonse's light brown hair, eyes softening, a soothing smile he'd long forgotten he'd ever had appearing on his face. "Yeah, Al. It's more than okay."

It was harder than he thought it would be to not stare at Al. Edward kept finding himself watching the younger boy while he drank a glass of water, still amazed that he was actually able to perform the action. As if he knew Edward was watching him, Alphonse would slowly look up, smile at his brother, then wait for Ed to begin the conversation.

Edward, however, was at a loss for words. He'd thought of how this would go a few times, if, no, when, he got reunited with Al. But now, no words would come. All he could do was smile crookedly at his brother, then look away.

Alphonse, for his part, seemed almost comfortable with the silence. He didn't force a conversation, but Ed was surprised at how quiet he had been since they'd sealed The Gate. He's probably thinking of home, Ed thought, hands resting in his lap, closing his eyes as he pictured Resembool the last time he'd seen it, still as beautiful and green and warm as ever. He saw Granny Pinako, the old hag he missed more than he'd ever let anyone know, standing on the porch of her house, a pipe in one hand while the other rested on the head of the Rockbell's dog, Den. Edward saw Winry, hair tied back in her usual bandana, her jumpsuit tied around her waist as she worked over her newest piece of automail. He found himself smiling at the vision.

His thoughts moved away from the past then and into the present, where he again saw Winry, older, more mature, as she stood before him. Edward had been surprised at how much she'd grown up, had felt ashamed that he hadn't been with her those last two years.

"Brother, are you okay?" Edward quickly looked at Al, his eyes large with concern as he stared at him. "You looked like you were hurting."

"Naw, it's nothing."

"The automail?" Now that he mentioned it, Edward's left leg was hurting, along with several other slight spots all over his body, but none were unbearable.

"I was just thinking."

"Oh."

Utter quietness.

"You sure you don't need anything to eat?" Ed asked, trying to think of something, anything, to talk about.

"No, I'm fine. Not really hungry, actually. What about you?"

"I don't think my stomach's up for too much right now."

After another few moments of silence, a silence that was beginning to become slightly uncomfortable, Edward thought of something.

"Al?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you grow your hair out long?"

Edward hated himself as soon as the question left his lips. He saw Alphonse's eyes widen painfully, a strange, unfamiliar expression on his face as he bit his lip gently. Ed noticed Al's grip on the glass, having just been relaxed, become stiff. Al's bangs fell over his face, hiding his eyes from his brother's confused and regretful gaze.

"Alphonse?"

And just like that, Al was smiling again. "Just felt like something different," he said casually.

But Ed knew; he'd known his brother long enough to know when he was lying or in pain. Or when he was forcing a smile, like he was now. Ruefully, Edward knew the true reason he'd let his hair grow had something to do with him, but he didn't pry.

"Okay."

Another minute passed.

"Brother?"

"Yeah?"

"You're lying."

"Huh?" Edward, caught off guard, could only gape at Alphonse. The younger Elric giggled softly at his brother's expression, filling Edward with such joy, just because Al could laugh now and not have the laughter reverberate inside of a helmet. It had been so long since he'd heard that sweet, pure laugh that he suddenly found himself laughing as well.

And Al seemed to understand why his brother was laughing now. He smiled widely, watching as Ed returned the grin happily.

"Now, what exactly did I lie about?" Ed asked, trying to keep himself from smiling.

"You're hurt. I can tell. It might have been a while since we've seen each other, but I know you and how you move when you get injured."

"I'm really okay, it's just a few cuts and bruises. Seriously Al, don't go all mother hen on me."

Edward, for his part, nearly fell out of his chair in a fit of laughter as he saw the shock and embarrassment register on Al's face; eyes wide, a dark blush stained his cheeks as he watched Ed, only slightly bothered by the name his brother had always called him since they were little when Alphonse worried about him too much. He watched as Ed laughed, suddenly finding himself smiling as well.

"Brother, that's not funny! I am not a mother hen."

"Oh yes you are!" Edward, still trying to compose himself, smiled at Al. "You always have been." He grinned brightly, fascinated to find that his brother was actually blushing; how long had it been since Al could do something so simple?

"Fine, next time I won't worry about you," Alphonse mumbled, arms loosely crossed, not meaning a single word of it; there would never be a time he couldn't worry about Ed. He didn't force himself to worry, it just came automatically, like it was an instinct.

"I actually like it when you worry about me." Alphonse almost missed his brother's statement, it was said so quietly. He looked up to see Edward, no longer laughing or joking, but sincere and thoughtful. "I missed that a lot." Ed rose from his chair, standing in front of Al, looking down at him with gentle, molten gold eyes.

Al was almost surprised as his brother's openness; of course he remembered the way they had always been so extremely close, almost always able to tell the other anything. But for some reason, once Alphonse had entered this world and regained his missing memories of the five years they had searched for the Philosopher's Stone, he felt almost afraid that everything between them would be different.

Edward, as if he could sense his brother's fear, placed his flesh hand on his younger brother's head, ruffling his hair tenderly. "Nothing's changed. You know that, right?"

Al smiled. "Yeah, I know."

It didn't come to very much of a shock to Edward when Al suddenly took on the role of looking after his injuries, just as he'd done during their quest. After asking Ed where the lavatory was, Alphonse had pulled his only slightly confused older brother along. Edward, realizing what Al was doing, simply said, "Top shelf in the medicine cabinet." After grabbing a bottle of rubbing alcohol and bandages, Alphonse had quickly began attacking Ed's shirt, unbuttoning it until Edward, still somewhat amazed and now fully amused, was standing shirtless before his little brother as his body was examined for any major cuts or gashes. He felt himself smile, realizing just how much he had missed Al's worrying.

It made him freeze up, though, when he felt Alphonse's fingers gently touch his skin, because this was the first time he'd felt his touch in so many years. So, instead of brushing him off like he would have once done, he let him continue his assessment, enjoying the pleasant feeling. He watched Al prod his side, slender fingers amazingly gentle, felt the sting of the alcohol against the gash his brother had just located, heard the soft, "Sorry," from Alphonse.

But Edward didn't complain. Because, despite the burning of the antiseptic against his raw skin, he was happy.

Finally satisfied with his job of cleaning and bandaging his brother's wounds, Alphonse stepped back, satisfied with himself; he hadn't lost the talent of bandaging Ed, even after all this time. He watched Edward as he pulled his shirt back on, eyes lingering on the automail arm that was attached to his brother's shoulder like a leech. Al felt his stomach knot up, suddenly feeling the guilt of not having returned his brother's limbs to normal resurface. All those years of searching and Edward still didn't have his arm and leg back.

Does Ed resent me for that? he wondered.

"Al?" Edward noticed as Alphonse's eyes suddenly dropped from his covered arm to the tiled floor. "You okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, I'm okay."

Whether it was the of the lack of sleep that caused him to or just the way Al's voice had sounded so discouraged and guilt filled, Edward somehow found himself latching onto his brother's hand with his left hand, his skin warm against Al's cool palm. Alphonse looked up, eyes confused, surprised by his brother's show of affection.

"C'mon. You've got to be tired. Let's get ready to turn in."

Al, looking from his hand enclosed in his brother's larger one to his brother's face, smiled. "Okay."

Edward felt uncomfortable about leaving Alphonse alone in the den, but he didn't want Al to have to worry about getting anything. Having realized there was no possible way for two people to fit in one bed and sleep comfortably, Ed had been at a loss only momentarily. He wouldn't make Al sleep in Heidrich's bed; just the thought nearly made his skin crawl, and since he wasn't too keen on sleeping in that bed himself, Edward had simply decided they would camp out on the floor of the den. He had grabbed his own pillow and blanket, had gotten two extra quilts and a pillow from the closet, then had found an extra set of pajamas and underwear of his for Alphonse before he finally realized he could barely carry everything back downstairs without falling. Leaning his back against the wall, he lifted the objects to get a better grip, loosing both pillows in the process.

Al, who had long ago heard the racket his brother was making, smiled as he climbed the stairs. He felt himself grin as he watched Edward at the top, trying to not drop anything else. "Brother," he said, trying to hold back laughter as he picked up the fallen pillows, "you need some help?"

"No, I do not. I've got it," Edward strained, nearly tripping again. I can barely walk, he thought, annoyed at his incompetence at not being able to carry all of the fluffy stuff by himself.

Laughing, Alphonse climbed the remaining stairs, reaching out toward Ed to take part of his load. "You don't have to do everything. Besides, I'll be using them too." He laughed again, grinning at Edward. "Try no to trip, Brother."

"You little…" Edward muttered quietly, smiling all the while as he watched Alphonse cautiously descend the stairs. Al had always been Ed's reasonable half, the only one who could ever calm him enough to knock some sense in through his thick skull and into his brain.

How many times had he heard those words? He didn't have to do everything, to carry every burden alone.

But, for the last two years, and even longer than that, he had tried to not worry anyone, to conceal his deepest thoughts and desires, pain and tears, far inside a part of his heart that only Alphonse could reach. Ever since their mother's death, he'd made nothing but mistakes, the only good result being the restoration of Al's body.

Edward felt himself being pulled deeper and deeper into The Gate, the arms of the Gate Children holding onto his body as he flew into oblivion; he paid them no mind, only focused on finding Alphonse. Tiny hands pulled at his limbs, wrapping around his arms, their texture cold and hot at the same time. He felt them wind around his legs, encircle his waist, cling to his back and chest. They burned his bare skin, particularly his right arm.

His right arm, no longer cold automail, but warm flesh, a mixture of blood and bones, ligaments and tendons. This limb actually had feeling again, the first time since he was eleven. His left leg was back too, feeling almost unnatural under his body, as he had gotten used to the automail. Both of his missing limbs were back, but at what cost?

Al.

Just hang on a little longer, Ed silently begged his little brother, clenching his fists. Bright golden eyes flew wide, their intensity filled with a determination he had felt only once before: when he had decided to become a Sate Alchemist, when he had promised to restore Alphonse's body.

He would die before he didn't fulfill that promise.

Setting his jaw, forcing away his own terror, he called to the Gate Children in the strongest voice he had ever mustered, feeling the concentration of the golden light of The Gate mixed with the Gate Children's darkness encircle him.

"TAKE ME TO AL!"

And just as quickly as the burning hot glow had surrounded him, it was gone and he was left in cold darkness. Disoriented, Edward felt blind in the blackness, unable to see anything. He felt his breath come in short gasps as he stood alone, not understanding.

Where was he? Where in the hell was he?

"I'm not playing any of your games, Truth," he called, trying to ignore the coldness biting at his skin. "I told you where I want to go."

"Then what are you willing to sacrifice?" a voice seemed to call from nowhere and everywhere, even inside Edward. This voice was familiar to Ed, the same it had been all those years ago; not male or female, it had no exact gender. "What will you give, you, a human, so your brother can live?"

Without hesitation, Edward replied, "Anything and everything."

A swirling sound filled the air, making Ed's ears ring, but he wouldn't back down. He ignored everything surrounding him, trying to focus his thoughts on the pure white space, the place where The Gate was; that's where he'd find Truth. Edward felt an abnormal glowing warmth surround him, obliterating the cold and darkness, and he found himself being pulled back through one of The Gate's many portals, only to land at his destination.

The White Room's a good name for this place, he decided at that moment. It was so familiar, but different in some ways.

He could see who had been speaking to him, who had spoken to him when he'd first transmuted his mother and when he'd gone back into The Gate for Al's soul. He faced the being head on, only slightly unnerved by it's appearance.

It didn't have a body; defined only by strange black vapors the rest was white. That was new; he hadn't seen its form last time.

They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, Edward waiting for anything to happen, Truth simply watching, seeing without actual eyes.

"What will you give, alchemist?" Truth asked once more.

Even though this was the worst situation he'd ever been in, Edward smirked slightly. "We goin through this again?" He grew serious then, gaze steady. "Everything and anything. Even if it's my life."

Truth suddenly laughed, sounding strangely happy and defeated at the same time. "That is the correct answer, Edward Elric!"

Edward felt the walls begin to shift as the White Room vanished, along with Truth's grinning face, and once again, Edward found himself in the strange golden tunnel. It was different this time though; no Gate Children, no rushing heat or cold, just a strangely tranquil warmth. This warmth was so familiar, yet so foreign, it scared Ed. He looked around, turning to face the opposite direction.

And saw a small body, pale and unclothed, seemingly floating in the golden vastness.

Edward would know that figure anywhere; it wasn't the suit of armor he'd somehow gotten used to seeing over the years, yet it held the same soul the armor had possessed. Body unchanged even though it had been five years since the transmutation, Alphonse seemed suspended in midair.

And Edward, who felt like he was about to die because seeing Al's body made his heart swell so much it ached, couldn't believe he had finally gotten to him. A tired yet satisfied smile graced his face; moving calmly despite his fear, he began the short walk that would put him within reach of Alphonse's body.

Only steps away, the tiny figure began to descend.

"Al!" Edward quickly reached out, catching his brother's body.

Was he always this small, this fragile? Ed found himself asking. It was odd; Edward had always been smaller, but now, his body was sixteen and Al's was still ten, and Edward knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for cheating his brother of all these years. Gazing at the boy's body in awe, an utmost softness filled his being, Ed was transfixed; brown hair still clean cut, Alphonse's face was innocent and serene, still holding a roundness associated with childhood, just as he remembered it. For all he knew Al could be simply sleeping. Ed noticed the tiny movement of the boy's body, barely rising and falling with the smallest breaths. He placed his hand lightly against Al's chest; just a diminutive heartbeat, like his body had gone into hibernation. His skin was pale, cold to the touch, features small and childlike, never having matured.

And Edward felt his heart break.

"Al? Hey, Alphonse?" He shook him softly, rushing his fingers through his little brother's hair. "C'mon Alphonse. You have to wake up now. It's time to wake up." Edward smiled wearily, a forlorn look crossing his features; here was Al, Ed's most important person, lying right there in his arms; yet at the same time, it wasn't Alphonse. Without a soul, this body could never really be Al.

Despite knowing this, that it was just an empty vessel without a soul, Edward still felt a strong connection to his brother's body. This was Alphonse, no matter what. Suddenly realizing he was about to cry, whether from joy or grief, he didn't know, Ed bit his lip as a broken sob ripped from his chest and he hugged Al's body to his, tears spilling over as he lovingly held the child's body tightly. Simply held him.

But without his soul, it wasn't really Alphonse. Not yet.

Carefully releasing Al's inactive body from his hold, Edward rested him carefully on the floor of the golden space, standing over the still form. He fiercely scrubbed his eyes, then inhaled deeply as his palms crashed together in a transmutation, creating an echoing resonance in the immensity of nothingness.

At that moment, he had only one objective: to call Alphonse's soul back.

Al, I know you're here somewhere. I'm here to get you, but I can't do it alone; I need you.

Through the blackness of his closed eyes, Ed saw a slight, very weak light, distant yet near at the same time; he felt the faint, diminutive glow it was emitting, desperately trying to reach him.

Find me, I'm right here. Feel me, follow me. I won't leave you.

Ed felt the soft, warm sensation intensify inside himself, the light becoming brighter, nearer. The glow was becoming stronger, no longer completely lost in darkness.

I won't leave you, Al. I promise I won't ever leave you.

The light became too intense; opening his eyes wide, Edward looked ahead to see a small, floating light, iridescent silver vapors encircling it. The strange light floated weightlessly, just over Al's body and within reach of Edward, giving off the feeling of safety and warmth and utter happiness, mingled only slightly with fear and uncertainty.

"Hey Alphonse." Ed smiled softly, amazed by how beautiful Al's soul was, a kind of pureness he wondered if all souls exhibited. Maybe it was just his brother; Alphonse had the most beautiful soul, even when he couldn't see it. Edward could remember the same glow Al's soul had given off, the same warmth, when he'd bound him to the armor; it had been smaller then, but still just as transfixing.

Reaching out, gently cupping Alphonse's pure silver-white soul in his large hands, all Ed could do was smile, a somehow content yet lonely smile. The soul's warmth filled his entire being, calling to him without words or a voice, yet Ed knew the meaning that was conveyed.

"I know. I missed you too."

Gently releasing the silver orb, he stepped back, reflecting on all that events that could happen in a single day: in a single morning, your little brother can be born, eyeing you without any understanding, yet seeing into your very heart. In a single afternoon, your mother can be taken from you, leaving you feeling so completely lost and alone, except you aren't alone; you still have that one person you've sworn to protect, to live and die for, the one that matters more than anything else. In a single night, your hopes and dreams can be crushed by a blunt and painful truth, everything you've worked for destroyed, but that doesn't matter, because he isn't there anymore and you're all alone. You're all alone, and all you can think about is how you'd give anything so that he could live, anything to have him back, so you do the only thing you can think of: you bring him back, but does that really save him?

Yes, Edward decided, because this was the moment he'd waited for all these years, the moment where he'd get Al's body back. When he'd woken, slightly lost and disoriented, to find that his little brother, his most important person, had sacrificed himself so that he could live, Ed had felt like he had lost everything all over again. Life without Alphonse was unbearable, inconceivable, not an option. So he had done the only thing possible; transmuted himself into The Gate, to bring Al back.

For all these years, the brothers had been all each other had, their sole source of reassurance and home. They'd spent years searching for what was believed to be a legend, determined to restore what they'd lost, even if they couldn't fix their mistakes. All the pain and loss, the sweat, blood, and tears they'd sacrificed, arguments and fights they'd shared, the research they slaved over, the comfort they gave each other.

In Edward's eyes, it was all worth it; as long as Alphonse was back to normal, he would be content.

Bending over the Al's physical form, he watched his brother's soul float down to be level with him. Edward gazed avidly at Alphonse's soul, somewhat nervous and giddy. "You ready, brother?"

The translucent soul floated just above the body's chest, and Ed noticed the soft, anxious aura it was giving off. He reached up, patting it softly, like he had patted Al's head so many to times during his life. He didn't say a word, just smiled encouragingly, knowing words weren't necessary.

Smiling confidently at Al's body, small and empty, and Alphonse's soul, so strong and full of life, Edward clapped his palms together once more.

After Edward had seen Alphonse's soul merge with his body, knitting itself into every fiber, he had been pulled back into The Gate's tunnel by the small, inky black hands of the Gate Children. For a moment, he had struggled, suddenly terrified by the prospect of leaving Alphonse again; after finally restoring his body, leaving Al seemed impossible. He had pulled, trying to reach his brother, Alphonse's body still glowing with the light of Ed's transmutation. But the hands wouldn't give in, wouldn't relent, and Edward had been pulled back toward that Gate, the one that led to the place called London. He wasn't sure if he had screamed, the memory was too dim, but he remembered reaching out for Al one last time, calling his name, eyes blurring with tears.

And then he'd remembered what he'd told Truth; everything and anything. If that meant being taken away from Alphonse, never seeing him smile again, Edward realized with sorrowful acceptance that it was okay. Just as long as he got Al back to normal, everything would be okay.

Sighing softly, Edward had stopped resisting the Gate Children's agonizingly slow pull, feeling his limbs suddenly relax as he'd accepted his fate. Funny; he'd never really believed in fate before.

A howl of pain had nearly tore from his throat as he'd felt the sharp, excruciating agony of his limbs being ripped away from his body for the second time in his life; keeping his jaw locked, he'd felt himself scream through clenched teeth. Oddly enough, there had been no blood, just a bright light surrounding his shoulder and thigh. Gasping, body trembling, Edward had simply acknowledged this as another price to be paid.

As he'd finally reach the portal, the one that would throw him into a completely different world and away from the people he loved, all Edward had done was look once more at Al's small body, his little brother's face peaceful as he'd slept soundly, the slightest smile on his lips.

Edward felt tears stream down his face as he'd smiled regretfully; he just hated the fact he wouldn't be the one there waiting when Alphonse opened his eyes.

I didn't tell him I love him. I never told him enough.

"I'm sorry, Al."

"Here," Edward said, handing Al the pair of pale blue pajamas and underwear, smirking at his little brother's expression. "What?"

"Are these for me?"

"Well, yeah, who else would they be for?" he asked playfully. "We're both disgusting and, as much as I'd like to go to sleep, this is too gross, even for me. I gotta get a shower, and I figured you needed one too."

Alphonse smiled, slightly embarrassed, feeling himself loosen up a little more. "Thanks."

Edward walked around the mess of blankets he'd tossed on the floor, grinning at Al as he messed with his hair. "You okay?"

Al nodded, then watched Ed walk toward the bathroom, the light still on from earlier; he followed him slowly, watching his brother pull different toiletries out of the closet, towels already lying on the sink.

"So," Ed replied, turning back to Alphonse. "You wanna go first?"

"Not really. I mean, if it's okay with you, can I look around while you get your shower?"

Ed laughed. "You don't have to ask my permission. Have at it." He turned around, walking back toward the den, then returning moments later with his clean clothes. "I won't take long," he said, turning back to Al, that caring smirk on his face again. "You won't get lost, will you?"

"Honestly, Brother…" Alphonse mumbled, faintly exasperated. He smiled though; just hearing Edward laugh was enough to make him forget how much he used to hate being teased.

At least Brother can tease me now. Hearing the bathroom door softly click shut, he gradually began his analysis of the old edifice. Al wasn't exceedingly surprised; there weren't many differences from the houses in this world and the ones in Amestris. The construction and foundation were the same, only slightly altered to fit this world more accurately. Still, there was a subtle dissimilarity between the two world's buildings, though Al couldn't place it.

He walked through the hall, glancing swiftly at the kitchen before moving on to the small dining room and flipping the light switch, filling the room with dull light. Not finding anything to be remarkably unusual or abnormal, Alphonse quickly scanned the next few rooms, looking at pictures or certain objects that fascinated him or made him smile, reminding him of old memories. He walked back through the hall, the flow of running water muted slightly behind the door as he passed the bathroom. Moving into the den, he noticed a tall floor lamp, then walked over to pull the small rope attached to it. Engulfing half of the room with light, Al looked around; it was small, the den, like most of the rooms in the house, yet the dimensions seemed almost perfect to him.

Hardly having taken notice of the hearth, Al pulled himself to a stop when he saw a picture, the colors dull and faded, like the rest of this world, placed on the mantle. Looking at the photo, Alphonse recognized the four men from earlier, the rocketry team, their faces grinning with excitement.

He also recognized the other boy, this world's Alfons, smiling happily at the camera, eyes bright and laughing. Alphonse felt slightly unnerved; seeing this boy's face, so similar to his own, yet so different, was strange. Alphons Heiderich's hair was a pale blonde, not like his own brunette hair, and his eyes were light blue, not gray. He was older by a few good years than Al physically, but mentally, Alphonse was just two or three years younger.

A sad little smile spread across his face. Alfons Heiderich had had so many friends, people who cared for him. Edward had told him earlier that Heiderich had been sick for as long as he'd known him, an illness that effected his lungs, causing him to cough up blood frequently. It reminded Al of Teacher, vomiting up the dark liquid; she was dead too.

He moved to the next picture, then caught his breath. He picked the photo up, rubbing his fingers along it, the frame polished and new.

It was an image of Edward and this world's Alfons, side by side, both grinning, a small rocket set up behind them. Heiderich was laughing, eyes crinkled, just like his own did when he laughed. He was smiling broadly, his face alive with light. Alphonse looked over at Ed then, seeing the familiar smirk plastered on his brother's face. He was a full head shorter than Alfons, something Al knew probably had incessantly annoyed him to no end.

What really caught his attention though was that in the picture, Edward was looking at this world's Alfons the exact same way he had looked at Al for so many years. He looked happy, fondness evident in his eyes, and maybe even a little proud.

Had Ed looked at him like that since they'd been reunited? It had been so long since he'd seen Ed, and he knew things were different now, but Al, in some ways, wished things had never changed. Alphonse had experienced the best times of his life while they searched for the Philosopher's Stone, and for two years, he couldn't remember anything except for the dreams that came to him so rarely.

But had Ed felt the same way? Al knew his brother had wanted to get back to him, to get home. But what if he'd actually been happier here with this other Al, the one that was older, smarter. The one who didn't look twelve years old.

What if everything was different?

The room suddenly grew colder as Alphonse stood alone with his fears.

The lonely silence of the old house nearly drove Ed insane as he waited for Alphonse to finish his shower. More than once he'd been tempted to just open the door and sit against the wall of the bathroom, to just talk to Al, but each time this came to him, he decided against it. Was it so strange that even though he and Al were together again, in the same world, he hated every minute his brother wasn't by his side? Alphonse wouldn't vanish, Edward knew that, but it still felt like he was being sharply pulled every time he was separated from him; maybe it was because their souls were actually bonded that he felt the need to be with Alphonse this desperately.

Sighing, Edward began pacing the kitchen again, trying to find something to keep his hands busy. He'd already set out their bedding in the living room, and, although it wouldn't be as comfortable as a bed, he knew Al would like it. Reaching over, he now placed Al's glass in the sink, pushed their chairs back under the table, then ended up jerking one back out as he plopped down onto it harshly. He tapped his foot repeatedly against the floor, arms crossed, looking out into the hall as he waited for it to brighten with the light from the bathroom.

Sitting down wasn't working so well; Edward jumped up, growling under his breath as he poured himself a glass of water. He gulped it down, then grimaced slightly, just like he had done since he'd first gotten to Europe two years ago. The water here was always thin and slightly bitter, tinted light brown and never completely clear. It didn't taste as clean as it did back home.

Ed shook his head. Resembool wasn't his home anymore. They were here, and they always would be. It would be difficult, but he'd just have to accept it.

And maybe with Al here, it wouldn't be quite as heard.

The bathroom door quietly squeaked open, and Ed quickly placed his glass down, then headed back toward the hall. Damp hair falling loosely over his shoulders, he rounded the corner to find Alphonse standing there, looking so lost and horribly young that it painfully pulled Edward's breath away.

Alphonse's hair fell down his back and around his face, still slightly dripping water. It was long, almost the same length as his own, the only difference being that Edward's was golden blonde and Al's caramel brown. His eyes looked large and heavy, somewhat sleepy, as he turned away from the den and looked up at Ed. A smile broke out across his young face, eyes lightening up tremendously; maybe he was just as terrified as Edward was about loosing the other. The pale blue pajamas were big on him, the shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, sleeves almost falling down past his hands. Still, he looked relaxed in them and more like Ed remembered him. When they were kids, Al would always wear Ed's old clothes and, when they were still fairly young, they always seemed to swallow the little boy up.

He realized that even with Alphonse's hair longer, they didn't exactly resemble each other very much, something that made him feel a little sad. Al looked more like Trisha, soft and loving, with round eyes and a gentle smile, while Ed was more like his father, possessing Hohenheim's blonde hair and strong jaw, an aloofness entwined into his every feature. Not to mention they were both like the parent they resembled in personality; Edward was standoffish and distant, harsh and brash, asking questions later, and Alphonse was affectionate and tender, calm and determined, thinking before he acted.

However, they did have similarities: they both could be hardheaded and passionate, their emotions getting the better of them. Another of their only similarities was in the way they loved each other; both brothers loved unconditionally and without reserve, with their entire heart and soul and who they were, because nothing was more important to them than the other.

"You find everything okay?" Edward asked, watching as Al turned back to flip the light switch off in the bathroom.

"Yeah." Alphonse looked tired, but he also seemed happy, and Ed realized just how much that affected him. He hoped Al had been at least content the past two years and not just now. For the most part, that was how his own life had been.

Al cocked his head slightly to one side, then the other, as he studied Ed.

"What?" Edward asked, suddenly anxious. "What's wrong?"

It caught him off guard when he felt Al's fingers catch hold of his hair, pulling it softly. "You need a hair cut," he said, grinning softly.

Edward cocked an eyebrow. "You want me to even start on that?" he asked, grabbing Alphonse's own hair, jerking it gently through his fingers.

Al's eyes darkened only slightly, but it was enough for Edward to regret taunting his brother. It was a sensitive subject, as he'd already learned, but the fact that Alphonse had grown his hair out made Ed extremely curious, if a little apprehensive.

A sad little smile spread across the younger boy's face as he asked, "Can we go to bed now?"

Unable to speak, Edward simply nodded.

The silence was about to kill him. Edward was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his head resting on his pillow, arms, for once, at his sides and not behind his head. Al lay next to him, hands resting on his stomach, eyes closed, keeping a good few inches from him. Ed felt scared to move, to even breathe too loudly, because what if he shattered this scarily fragile quietness between the them? For as long as he could remember, silences were never awkward with Al, always comfortable and easy. They would rarely speak as they did research, each deeply observing their notes or lost a book.

That had been years ago though. Now, both boys were on their backs, one looking straight up, the other at the blackness behind his eyelids. Still, Ed knew Alphonse was wide awake.

Carefully glancing over, he looked at his little brother's pale face, still round with baby fat, and he felt something similar to affection fill his heart at the sight. Although Al wasn't really twelve anymore, it was, though he hated to admit it, kind of like he was, and Ed was filled with the urge to protect him even more deeply than usual. He'd always been slightly protective of Alphonse, although they were actually just one year apart and his brother could take care of his self (for the most part; he would always need Ed). It was worse now, though. He realized just how physically young Al was, but mentally, he was along the same scale of genius as himself.

Still, it was his fault Alphonse wasn't normal anymore, would never be normal. How was it for him, to be seventeen in a child's body? Was it hard? Edward felt his throat tighten.

"Hey, Al?" He cringed as his words filled the air, shattering the silence, but now that they were out in the open, he could do nothing about it.

Alphonse inhaled, a little more deeply than before. "Hm?"

"Look, I know you already told me a long time ago, and you probably are gonna just think I'm stupid, and I probably am, but I just needed to ask you-"

"Whoa, who, Brother! Slow down!" Al was sitting up now, leaning over Ed slightly as he looked at him. Edward hadn't even been aware of how fast he was talking until Alphonse stopped him. "Now," Al started, looking only slightly amused, "go slow and speak clearly."

Sighing harshly, Edward pulled himself into a sitting position, Al moving back to give him room. Ed looked down at his hands in his lap, beginning to fiddle with them, unable to meet Al's expectant gaze. "Do you hate me?" he mumbled uncomfortably.

"What?"

"Do you," Edward repeated, looking up, voice louder than before. When he saw his brother, he looked away again. "you know," he said, more quietly.

"No, I don't. Brother, what are you talking about?" Ed could tell by the tone of voice Alphonse was using that he was beginning to get exasperated with him.

"Hate me."

Al took a painful intake of breath as he watched his big brother, suddenly looking small and scared and completely unlike himself. "Ed?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

"Do you…hate me?" Painfully, Edward forced himself to make eye contact with Alphonse and to not break it. "I know I asked you already, but that was years ago, and a lot has changed since then." He bit the inside of his jaw, unable to look at Al any longer. His gaze traveled down to the left, as far away from Alphonse as possible. "I screwed everything up, pretty much. I messed up, and I can't fix it."

"Fix…what?" Al asked, barely breathing. His hands were shaking beneath the quilt as he watched Ed. Why won't he just look at me? He asked himself in frustration, at Edward and at his own detachment. Why was he making it so much harder for Ed?

"You!" Edward yelled, eyes bright at he looked fiercely up at Al.

"But you did fix me, Brother!" Alphonse didn't want to believe what he was hearing, what his brother was saying. He'd saved him, and even though it wasn't exactly the ideal body, at least Al had been alive when he'd been bound to the armor. At least he'd been with Edward, and that was al he had ever wanted. That was all he still wanted.

Edward shook his head harshly, bangs flying wildly around his face. "No, I didn't! It's all my fault; I bound your soul to the armor, and you couldn't even cry because of me! I made things better, but I couldn't fix them." He grabbed his head with his left hand, gripping his hair tightly, his vision growing horribly clouded by oncoming tears. "I…I still can't. I can't fix you."

It nearly destroyed Al to see Edward this guilt field, hating himself this much. But it also made him slightly annoyed to be having this conversation with Ed again. Hadn't he already established he could never hate him?

Alphonse forcefully gripped Ed's hand in his own, pulling it away from his hair and placing it in between them. "Stop it, Brother." His voice sounded stronger than he'd imagined it would. His hands were still shaking, but he ignored them and focused solely on Edward. He felt Ed's hand begin to quaver, along with his shoulders, and Al was suddenly filled with raw fear. Had Ed felt like this for the past two years? Edward tried to pull his hand away, but Al's grip was unyielding. "Brother, stop," he said, more softly this time.

Edward's eyes were squeezed shut, and Alphonse moved forward slightly. "Hey," he said, hoping his voice wouldn't break from fear. "Look at me." Ed shook his head, closed eyes tightening, his jaw rigid; but Al saw the way his bottom lip was on the verge of trembling. "Edward." Al's voice was forceful, stronger and deeper than usual, and Ed inhaled harshly, the air entering his lungs brokenly. "Look at me."

"No," Edward replied, voice cracking, shaking his head even more fervently. "N-no."

Al felt a tired smile spread across his face. "You just always have to try to be strong, don't you? Ed, please look at me." He reached under his brother's chin, pulling his face up to where they were only a few inches apart. Edward didn't struggle, but he looked like he wanted nothing more than to flee from Al's intense eyes.

Alphonse sighed. "Brother, you really are an idiot sometimes."

"W-what?" Alphonse felt the beginnings of laughter rise in his chest as his big brother's pride got in the way. Edward's eyes were wide, voice suddenly annoyed as he said, "Am not!"

"Are too!" This time, Al did laugh, and was rewarded by a frail smile fleetingly crossing Ed's face. "Listen to me, Brother. First of all, I'm not broken. I never have been."

"But-"

"I'm not a toy you can fix with alchemy, Ed," Alphonse continued, ignoring his brother. "I'm me. And another thing, in case you haven't realize it, you saved my life."

"But I didn't know that!" Edward yelled.

This caught Al off guard. What did he mean, he hadn't known? Unless…

"You…didn't know if the transmutation worked, did you?"

Guiltily, Edward looked back at his hands. "I could only hope."

"So that's why…" Alphonse whispered, eyes widening in understanding. "That's why you thought you'd messed things up. You didn't know if I was alive or not."

Edward felt his eyes grow dangerously wet, and he clamped them shut again to block the unwanted moisture. "Sorry. I'm so sorry, Al." Alphonse was about to yell, he could already hear it. He sat frozen, hands gripping his ankles.

Instead, he head Al laugh gently, but he could hear traces of tears. He felt Al's soft fingers pull his chin upward again to where, if he opened his eyes, he would find his little brother's face directly in front of him.

"Brother?" Somehow, Edward forced his eyes open. Alphonse was smiling gently, somewhat of a smirk, so similar to his own, but his eyes were wet. "Shut up."

Ed felt his eyes grow round and his lips part, but before he could say anything, Al placed a finger against his lips.

"Listen to me. I don't ever want to hear you say that again. Ever. Don't apologize for not knowing what would happen. Just be glad that it worked."

Edward pulled back, trying so hard not to just give in and let Alphonse comfort him. But he didn't deserve comfort. Ed lifted his hand, biting him knuckle harshly. "I put you in a body that couldn't feel, sleep, do anything human, and you never hated me. But I left you all alone and you couldn't remember anything, and you should at least be mad at me."

Ed, Alphonse noticed, looked older than before, like this conversation had aged him several years. His eyes were swimming with unshed tears, tears he refused cry. "I b-broke my promise."

"Promise?"

"I promised…promised I would never leave you," Edward said, eyeing Al with weary, golden eyes.

"You mean…when you bound my soul back to my body." Alphonse could faintly remember a moment between life and death, fantasy and reality, when he'd been nothing but a soul, floating through space, lost and alone and terrified.

And then he'd heard Edward's voice. Ed had called him, found him in the darkness, saved him from aimless wandering. And he'd promised he would never leave him.

"Brother," he chastised gently, "I don't expect you to keep a promise like that. You can't help but leave me sometimes."

"Do you know how horrible I felt when I left you?" Ed asked, voice shaking. "I wanted to see you open your eyes…so bad. And I wasn't there. I left."

Alphonse sighed softly. "You know something?"

Edward shook his head uncertainly.

"I was a little mad, at first," he admitted, horribly ashamed that he had ever felt that emotion toward Ed when it wasn't his fault. "I couldn't remember anything after trying to bring Mom back, and when I woke up, Rosé took me back home. I had Winry and Granny, and they filled me in on everything, but it wasn't the same. Not as remembering.

"And then you were gone. I felt confused and lost, even when things started coming back to me." Edward looked questioningly at him, and Al elaborated. "I started…remembering things," he phrased carefully. "Nothing big, but small, minor things." Not true. Al felt the acid lie on his tongue, but he swallowed it down. "And I knew that if you were gone, that if you'd left me, it was for a good reason. One like, maybe, saving my life."

"You did the same thing to me," Ed defended quietly. "You brought me back from The Gate."

"After you…died," Al managed to say, desperately trying to ignore the ache in his chest. He hadn't been able to stop Envy from stabbing Edward through the heart. He hadn't been able to save him.

But in the end, he had been able to.

"I was really hoping you wouldn't try to bring me back," Alphonse murmured sadly.

Edward's eyes widened in anger and he frowned darkly. "How can you even say that?" he asked, shocked and slightly hurt.

"Because I knew that something bad would happen if you did. You were…I finally got…" Al left his thought hanging, suddenly terrified to say it.

"Al?"

"I just knew something bad would happen," he said, changing his words. "Like us getting separated."

"Al…"

"I'm not angry. I never really have been." Alphonse smiled at his older brother, a lump forming in his throat. He took Edward's flesh hand again, gently rubbing his thumb across his brother's calloused calm. "And I don't hate you. I love you too much to ever hate you. So don't think that, okay?"

It came as a shock to Al when he felt Edward rest his head on his shoulder, small, shuddering sounds escaping him. His own eyes filling with tears, Alphonse smiled warmly as he placed his hands on Ed's shoulders, the wrapped his arms loosely around him.

"Can I ask you something else?" The brothers were sitting together, shoulders touching, and Ed felt happier, truly happy, then he'd been in a while.

"If it's something as dumb as, 'Do you hate me,' you'd better keep your mouth shut," Al replied, voice joking, yet holding a tone of seriousness behind it.

"It's nothing like that," Ed said, gently shoving his brother's shoulder. "But you have to promise you won't get mad."

Alphonse looked at him, lips turned up slightly. "Try me."

"Why did you grow your hair out long?"

It was amazing how quickly Al could distance himself from Edward; his shoulders stiffened and Ed saw that same, pained look from earlier enter his features. "And none of that 'I felt like it' crap. Tell me the truth," Edward said quickly.

Alphonse looked down, sighing softly. "It reminded me of you."

Edward had hoped this wasn't the case, but his suspicions had been correct after all. Softly, he asked, "But, why?"

It made his heart twist when he saw Al begin wringing his hands, saw his eyes suddenly turn to liquid silver. "Please tell me, Al. Hey, I'll even promise I won't get mad, okay?" He tried to achieve a joking tone, but failed. Instead, he sounded slightly afraid and frantic, but Al didn't seem to notice.

"It's just…I'd always ask Winry how you had changed, how you were different, since I couldn't remember you looking any older than eleven. She said your hair was long and you wore it in a braid, and I-I know it was stupid, but I thought if my hair was like yours you wouldn't seem as far away."

Edward felt his heart swell painfully inside his chest. Oh, Al. He raised his hand, running his fingers through his brother's soft, long hair. "You didn't have to do that," he said quietly, noting the way Alphonse's shoulders seemed to shake. "I'm always with you, even when we aren't together."

"But that's what I hate!" Al sobbed, tears beginning to descend his cheeks, each one tearing away at Edward's soul. "I hate not being with you. I can't stand it! I was never mad at you when you were gone, but I was always scared."

Edward watched, horrified, as Alphonse cried, big, bright tears rolling down his face, eyes pleading with Ed's. But, in some ways, he had to admit he was amazed; Al was actually crying.

A thought came to Ed then, one that made his insides drop: had Al cried a lot the past two years? God, he hoped not.

"It got worse when I started remembering."

"What?" Edward leaned toward him, hands wanting so bad to just wipe the salt water from his little brother's face; somehow, he restrained himself.

"I had…dreams. Nightmares," Alphonse muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest, crossing his arms tightly around himself, like if he were to just release the tight hold he had on his body, he would break into pieces. "I saw things that had happened when we were searching for the Stone. Some were nice, nothing really important, but I liked them all. And then I started seeing pieces of other memories, like when my body was ripped from my soul in The Gate."

Edward scratched his fingers against Al's scalp comfortingly, fingers catching in his hair. "Al, you don't have to-"

"I saw you die!"

Edward felt everything, including time, stop. His blood turned to ice, freezing his veins from the inside out as he looked at Al's heartbreakingly miserable face, bottom lip quivering, tears silently streaming from his eyes.

"I s-saw you die, and I d-didn't know w-what was going on! I c-couldn't remember anything e-else!" Alphonse curled up tightly, hands gripping his head, reminding Edward of how just a few minutes ago, they had been in opposite positions; he'd been the one pouring his heart and soul out, and now Alphonse was.

"I was scared to s-sleep after that, because I kept seeing you, a-always in blood." Alphonse crossed his arms over his knees, burying his face in them. "I was so scared…so scared y-you were really dead. And it was all m-my fault!"

A sob breaking from his throat, Edward grabbed Al by the shoulders, pulling him into his chest. He buried his face in his younger brother's hair as Alphonse clutched him around the waist, arms shaking as he held onto Ed like he was his only lifeline. He felt Al's tears soaking through his shirt as his own soaked into his brother's hair, and he held him tighter. It felt amazing, just hugging Al again, being able to feel him. Edward placed a hand on the back of Al's head, holding him. Tears steadily rolled down his cheeks and into his mouth, the taste of salt on his tongue; as soon as they fell from his eyes, more replaced them, obscuring his vision so that he could barely see.

But he could hear. He heard Alphonse sobbing into his chest, choking on his tears and gasping painfully for breath, small body trembling. Edward pulled Al partway into his lap, then gently started rocking him, back and forth, as he brushed his brother's hair away from his neck and gently stroked his fingers through the caramel strands, just as he'd done the night they had lain together so many years ago when their mother had died, when nothing else would work and he'd just held Al in his arms.

This was, Edward admitted, the best moment of his life. He wasn't holding back any longer, and neither was Alphonse, and they were both crying and, for the first time in years, finding home. There were no more barriers between them, no worlds separating them. They were together.

"I m-missed you. A lot," Alphonse sniffled into his chest, voice muted. Still, Ed caught the message, and he felt more tears slide down his face.

"And you think I didn't?"

Al looked up, eyes bright with tears and red rimmed, swollen from crying. But then, so were Ed's. Edward bent down, gently bumping their foreheads together as a tender smile came across his face. He felt his heart, warmer than it had been in years, finally feel whole for the first time since Trisha's death.

"You know what?" he asked, brushing the remaining tears from his brother's damp face.

"W-what?" Alphonse hiccupped out, and Ed's smile softened even further, filled with love and adoration.

"I love you. You're my brother, and I love you." A laugh that was almost a cry exited him, but he was smiling as he he gently cupped Al's soft, tear-stained cheeks with his hands. "Now, you gotta promise to stay with me, okay?"

Al's eyes widened slightly and more warm tears streamed down his cheeks. "And you gotta be happy," Ed said, grinning through his own tears, residual wetness that refused to stop spilling from his eyes.

Alphonse looked straight into Ed's eyes, into his very mind, body, and soul, then gave him the biggest watery smile Ed had ever seen. He giggled softly, leaning forward into Edward, throwing his arms around him as he hiccupped through his remaining tears. Al buried his face in the crook of Edward's neck, nuzzling into him, his hands fisted in his brother's shirt. "Okay. I promise."

Satisfied, finally beginning to come to peace with himself and his demons, Edward smiled and gripped Al back tightly. "And I promise I'll stay with you. Always."

"Al?"

"Hm?"

"You really okay with being twelve physically?"

The Elric brothers lay together, and if either had bothered to look at the clock, they would see it was way into the early hours of the morning. However, they didn't, only focused on remaining near each other. They were on their sides, facing the other, their foreheads placed together. Al's head slightly rested on Edward's shoulder.

Alphonse was quite for a minute. "Yeah. As long as I have a human body, and it's mine, and I'm with you."

"Okay. Good."

"Brother?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't able to get your arm and leg back," Al said, voicing his inner turmoil, his guilt at not keeping his word to Edward. He raised his arm and reached over Edward's chest, his hand landing on the port where steel met flesh that was Edward's right shoulder. Even through the material of his shirt it was cold to the touch.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for, you know that," Edward mumbled gently.

"Are you really okay with that though? We could still try to get them back, you know."

Ed sighed softly. "Not if it meant loosing you again." He felt Al's other hand take hold of his wrist, thrown up behind his little brother's head; he could somewhat feel the hand on his shoulder, Al's fingers adding pressure to his shirt so that it kissed the scar tissue. "I'm okay. As long as your here."

Alphonse nod against his shoulder, slightly burying his face in Ed's neck. "Just…don't leave me, okay?"

"I already promised I wouldn't, silly."

"Right," Al replied, warm sleep beginning to settle over him.

Edward gently stroked his metal fingers through his little brother's hair. "Al?"

"Yeah?"

"First thing in the morning, I'm giving you a haircut."

Alphonse opened his eyes to find Edward watching him, the softest smile he had ever seen gracing his face. Smiling back in return, knowing he didn't need this reminder of his brother any longer now that he was with him, he said, "Okay."

Both boys closed their eyes again, their minds growing fuzzier. "Brother?" Al mumbled.

"What?"

"Were you friends with this world's Alfons because he was a better me?"

Eyes now open, Edward noticed his brother's somewhat nonchalant tone, but saw the way Al's eyebrows were knitted together, lip caught between his teeth. "Stupid," he muttered affectionately, brushing Alphonse's bangs away from his forehead. Al opened his eyes, watching him closely, eyes swimming with emotion. "Alfons might have looked like you, but he could never be you, not in my mind. You're Alphonse, not him. You're my brother."

Al sighed contently, a soft little smile on his face. He liked the way Brother pronounced their names differently, Ed's voice caressing his name more, like each syllable was sacred to him.

They were quiet for a moment, Edward believing Al had finally fallen asleep, when a soft whisper filled the air.

"I love you, Brother."

Smiling, pulling Alphonse closer to him, Ed whispered, "Me too. Love you, Al."

When daylight came, it looked in through the windows of an old, worn out house in Munich, Germany, revealing two boys, brothers; one eighteen, the other twelve, but actually seventeen. They were sound asleep, their limbs a tangled mess, covers thrown wildly around them. Their long hair surrounded their faces, a mixture of soft brown, bleached lighter by the incoming sun, and golden blonde, almost white in the morning glow; the lengthy strands mixed together high above their heads to where it was almost impossible to determine where ones began and the others ended. Their faces were close, so close that as they slept, they silently inhaled the others breath. Peaceful, content expressions graced their sleeping faces.

And they only needed the other to live.

Silently, daylight left the brothers to their dreams.