Alphonse had noticed Edward getting progressively more distant, staring out the windows of the small Rockbell house for hours, eyes vacant. He had heard his brother pleading in his sleep for it all to just stop, had heard the soft cries to loud screams as Edward woke from a particularly violent night terror.

And yet his brother refused to see anyone.

Refused to get the help they needed.

It was infuriating, because everyone but Ed seemed to see that he needed help.

They fought. They had fought before, sure, but never, never, like this.

This was rage, denial, sorrow, pain, confusion, regret, guilt...

So much.

So much all snowballed together.

And that's what they were doing now. Duking it out while Winry was gone into town.

They never fought when Winry was there.

"Goddammit, Edward! You need help! And don't give me that bullshit about you being fine, I know you're not! For fucks sake, I'm your brother! I've always been here for you so can you just listen to me, for once?!"

"For once?" Edward asked, eyes cold and lifeless, but there was something, something...that Al didn't like...rage. Hatred. Betrayal. "Everything I've ever done is listen to you! I stayed up all those nights sitting with you, I watched over you, I protected you, I did my damn best, trying to make you happy! Trying to get your body back! It was never about me and my limbs! It. Was. You." He said, his voice a harsh growl.

"You say you listen, you say you always have! But when we were going to bring mum back? When I told you I didn't want to anymore? You know what you did?" Alphonse spat. "You said no! You said we were going to see her again! And you know what happened? I was stuck in a suit of armor for how many years? Unfeeling? Unable to smell the grass or the breeze or even the oil of the trains we were on? Unable to feel actual joy, emotions muted..." He was practically shaking with rage, unable to see exactly how his words were effecting his brother through his indescribable anger.

"You don't think I know that?" Ed's voice was quiet. "You don't think that that was what was on my mind, every damn second of every damn day when I was able to feel the fabric of my shirts against my skin? To eat?

"But this conversation wasn't about that, was it? No, it was about you, and your damn insistence that I'm some sort of fucking insane person, who needs some sort of psychiatrist! I'm not," He spat.

"You do need help! Have you seen yourself lately?! Looked in a mirror, maybe? You're not the brother I used to know." Alphonse's voice was all steel.

Ed broke then. He had thought he had already been broken beyond repair, but apparently not.

A desperate sounding, broken, rasping, insane laugh ripped it's way out of Ed's body. "No," he agreed, once the terrible, aching laugh had finished it's course. "No, they died when I first went to that damn war and killed all of those people. And why? Because if I didn't do that, they were going to start drafting people. They were going to draft you. They told me." Ed let another one of those dark laughs escape him as his lips twisted up into a smile that was simply wrong, in every single way.

If anyone were to look at the brothers, they would be shocked at how much the two boys, once so close, had fallen.

--

Three months later, Edward had sent his resignation to the military and was waiting for it to go through. His watch had been included in the thick envelope, signifying he was serious.

He kept the gun.

--
It had been nearly a year since Edward had resigned, getting better and better at hiding his feelings.

Coward.

His brother had found out about his harming himself and that had provoked yet another screaming fit between Ed and Al, this time with Winry still in the house.

Bastard.

He wasn't worthy of living.

Not after what he'd done.

With that, the eldest brother went upstairs, took the military issued gun that he kept underneath his pillow, and snuck out the window.

He had a particular destination in mind, and nothing would stop him from reaching it and completing what he had now set out to do.

Hardly twenty minutes later, a shot rang out through the country side.

One of the most famous and well respected soldiers in the country had fallen to his own hand.

It took four days to find his body, hidden in a cave where he and Alphonse had played as children.

--792 Words--

Uuuuhhhhh....TheHawksEye_O3 Have fun with this. You said you wanted a new chapter of something and I was in an angst mood. This is the end of this book, I guess. Thought it would be longer, but oh well. ~The_Sin_Pride