Leave A Scar

The hotel room was quiet, the hands of a clock filling the silence.

I remained reading, sitting on the couch with both legs tucked underneath myself. Uncomfortable, especially for a long period of time, but the pain building from the position made me focus a little harder. Balancing the selfishness with the weak attempt at help I was offering both of them.

At the opposite side, Ed lounging on the couch, one leg hanging off the seat's edge, the other stretched out. His socked foot was relatively close to the leg nearest to him, my right one. I felt nervous about this; did he want us to touch? No probably not. Not with Al so close, but why would he be lounging like this if he didn't want us to be close? Just enough to act casual? Like there was nothing between us? Was there anything between us?

Al suddenly spoke, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I clenched the book in my hands a little harder, feeling Ed's stare go to me. Around us, Al's voice rang out.

"I... I just felt something?"

Ed sat up. "What?! What're you talking about, you felt something?"

Al stared down at the paper on the table. "I... I don't know. I just felt... An emotion, I think."

I searched his face, his paper. "What... What were you doing, when you felt it?"

"I... I was just writing a letter to May," he responded. He bowed his head a little, becoming embarrassed. The hand holding the pencil tightened a little bit. "I was just telling her how much I love her."

Ed was already trying to figure this out. He picked his other foot off from the floor, pulling both legs in to a loose sitting position, fanning out slightly. Face concentrated, searching the line in between the cushions like the answers were in between the darkness in the crack.

"You remember that idea I had," he began quietly, "about your body getting human experiences?"

Al nodded, hesitant. "Y-yeah."

"Maybe... That one was powerful enough for you to feel it."

Al looked back down to his paper. "M... Maybe... Why would it only work now, though? We've been writing that for months now."

Ed looked away, down to the floor, away from me. Still concentrated. Still trying to figure this out.

"I'm not sure, Al," he replied. "Whatever it is, we should keep our eye on it."

Al nodded, and before I could ask anything, a slight giggle came from him.

"I forgot how great it was to feel something!" he exclaimed. "It really is something you take for granted!"

Ed shifted around, arm resting on the back of the couch and hand holding his wrist. "Speaking of weird things..."

He paused, looking down for a moment with golden brows furrowed.

"I've been thinking about that Homunculi again," he said, speaking in Al's direction but regarding both of us. At least that's what I fooled myself into thinking. He turned, stare moving over to me, nearly sending me out of my own skin in surprise. He didn't seem to notice, continuing to talk about something I didn't pay enough attention to hear.

"The young one, that was at the train station." His head bowed a little, golden bangs failing to hide the hint of a blush. "It's possible... Well, a few hypotheses come up, actually."

His head rose, a flash of determination sweeping through his eyes as he looked directly into mine.

"First, homunculi can reproduce, and age with time. That'd make sense, with how many we've seen and how they vary in size and age."

"Either that..." He swallowed, and even still, I sensed the fear in his voice. "Or there's a new Father creating them."

"Where did Father come from...?" Al wondered, speaking the question I wanted to ask.

"Wish I knew," Ed sighed, and let go of his own wrist. His body stretched out, hands behind his head, heels touching the edge of my thɨġh. Friendly, I told myself. He was just being friendly.

My brain reached out, gathering something that wasn't my stupid thoughts.

"Maybe because you sacrificed twice," Al replied, turning to meet Edward's stare. "Maybe it's something to do with that."

"So I got this strange power as a bonus?" Ed mused, rubbing his chin. His metal hand came to his hair, twisting against his bangs. "Ahhh, that wouldn't make any sense though—it's been years!"

He sighed, hand falling away. "Plus, the Homunculi aren't actively coming after me," he said. "If they really wanted me, we'd be pursued twenty-four-seven."

"Why just you?" Al asked, his voice nearing a whɨnė.

Ed nodded once, palms hiding his eyes, and in a soft voice, he spoke.

"It just raises the question of what's different," he said. "What I have that you two don't."

"Could it..." Al paused. "Could it be that red light, Brother?"

Ed reached one hand up, twisting gently as his hand reached to the ceiling. Metal gently clicking as he spoke.

"Dunno, Al. Maybe."

"But..." My brain was already working, seeing some kind of hole in the speculation. I looked up, searching them both. "The amulet. Can we ȧssume that it was fake the whole time you two were searching? That it was part of the Homunculi's plan all along?"

Ed nodded, after a moment. "Yeah," he said, and my name... it actually made me feel useful. "I see where you're going with that. We caught wind of the first rumors six months before my transmutation light changed."

"Unless some sort of interception happened, and it's actually real..." I ran the side of my hand across my brow, fighting off a headache. My thumb rolled, knuckle replacing the light pressure and adding a harsher, more condensed weight. I had to focus...

"I don't think it'll do much good to leap like that," Ed replied quietly, not noticing my sorry excuse for motivation. "If we catch wind of more rumors in the coming months, then sure, we'll search again, but for now, it might be best to leave the trail cold."

"Do you think they'd lure us with the amulet again?" Al asked.

"Dunno," Edward said. "Guess it just depends if we'll fall for it or not."

Silence came between us. I kept my mouth against the back of the couch, fighting off fatigue and raising my stare to Ed. Wondering if they actually would go after it again.

His eyes lifted, and before they could meet mine, I looked back down. Confined to my own worthless questions again.

I rested my forehead against the couch, completely surrendering to how little I knew. "What if there's other parts to their plan?" I asked. "Other... traps."

Ed sighed, fingers pushing against the bridge of his nose. "Not sure," he said, splitting my name into one syllable.

We sat in silence, all of us, until once more, Al spoke, his voice much quieter this time. Thoughtful, even, as he gently jostled the pages he'd written to May.

"So... Something new came up"—He motioned with the pages, scrawled from top to bottom with words and the occasional heart. I immediately looked away, my walls building—"And May..." Al smiled, a little bashful. "Well... She wants to see a photo of you."

I blushed, leaning back a little; even going as far to position my foot to step back. "She... Wants a photo?"

I couldn't even begin to tell him I didn't photograph well.

Al nodded, setting the page down and looking at his most recent letter. "Yeah. She's curious as to how tall Brother's gotten."

"Heh!" Ed stretched out, bringing his hands on his hɨps and his [hips forward]. "Wait 'til her and Ling see just how tall I've gotten! It'll knock them off their seats, for sure!"

So, with the three of us posing for a camera, with train tracks behind us, we saved a moment.

I posed, briefly bringing up a smile, a lift of the leg, and a peace sign.

Ed and Al copied me, giving the same handsign, and with a flash, that second in time was captured.

Freezing that moment, forever.

The photograph was shaken, tucked with the letter, and slipped into a mailbox. Sealing that moment into my mind, after Al had shown us.

Despite the comment Ed had made, despite the teasing laughter from his brother the statement brought, I knew my place. Despite what Ed had said, I knew I looked hideous.

Ed must have seen something, as he walked beside me with Al leading the way. It almost reminded me of Dublith, how he had been leading us, and how I had held Ed's hand in my best attempt at cushioning his downpour of a mood

I thought of when he was blind, how the sun visors collapsed at the edge and sloshed onto him.

I nearly flinched back, my fingers twitching in fear as Ed's hand came to mind. Glove mixing with pale flesh.

And before I could even blink or look at the back of Al's head, Ed leaned over, teeth nipping the flesh of my neck.

"You're absolutely gorgeous," he breathed, words ghosting against tingling skin. He planted an open mouth kiss a bit higher, squeezing my hand, and spoke directly against my skin. Just low enough for me to bȧrėly hear him. "Don't ever doubt that about yourself."

In the midst of my inner-turmoil, I felt myself grow weak. My knees nearly gave out, but when Ed drew away as quickly as he had come, and when his hand left mine to return to his pocket, I was able to regain my composure. I took in a breath, thankful Al didn't seem to have realized anything had happened behind him. I stole a glance at Edward, who just beamed me a grin.

I froze that moment, committing it to memory. And before he could guess otherwise, I smiled back as best as I could. I don't think I would ever be able to truly get mad at him...

So we walked on, passing lines of sidewalks and my feet stepping on each. Another landmark, another moment saved.

I thought of the clock that ticked in our hotel room, seeing the face and the angled-hands as we arrived once again.

"I'll make dinner!" Al chimed, and before I could even offer my ȧssistance, his apron was pulled on, crooked chef hat secured.

My mouth opened, then closed, and my hand lowered from the partial reach I had stretched it into. One hand wrapped around my waist, metal holding me for a single moment, a single tick of the clock, before Ed slipped away as he walked passed.

Retiring to the bedroom, the door left halfway open.

A... invitation?

I swallowed, and picking up the pieces I had dropped with the photograph's existence, gently made my way into the room. I knew my existence, as frozen as that photograph.

I knew where I belonged.

I just hope I was strong enough to keep fighting. Fighting everything, from myself to homunculi.

I just hoped, and I prayed to a nonexistent God that it all would be enough.