Title: His fault
Warning: Copious amounts of angst
A.N: I’ve been in an Al-centric mood today.
Al can’t sleep at night. Being only a soul trapped in a tin can means he has no eyes to close, no rest is needed to refresh his body and mind. It means he has time to think, time to wonder. Al hates the night!
He wonders if they’ll ever find the Philosopher’s stone. He ponders what will happen if they don’t. He fears what will happen if they do. What will they have to give up? He knows the stone is supposed to mean they don’t need equivalent exchange but he doesn’t believe it.
Nothing in their lives had ever come without a price before, why would that change now? What would they have to give up this time? Would they be willing to pay? He knows Ed would, Ed would give up his very life for Al and that is what frightens him the most. Ed had already come close to losing his life for him once and Al really doesn’t know what he would do if he ever actually managed to go that one step further next time.
What would happen to him? Would he live forever? Would he be able to go on? Would he be alone? Would he be able to cry?
Al hated the questions, they never stopped. He wondered a lot about the future but it wouldn’t stop at that. His mind always found a way to shift to what ifs about the past. They were worse.
What if mom had never died? What if Ed had never brought him back? What if teacher hadn’t taken them in? What if, what if… It always lead to the realisation that him being sat there like this was his own fault. He caused this, he made this happen. Ed never would have tried getting mom back if not for Al. Ed wouldn’t have lost his arm and leg if not for Al. Ed wouldn’t always be getting hurt if not for Al. Ed would be living a good life, or at least a better one, if not for Al.
The last question that always comes to his mind is the same night after night. What if he had spoken up? If he had been strong enough to say what he felt, to tell Ed it was wrong, they wouldn’t be here. It was all Al’s fault, all of it.
The thoughts continue, never stopping till the morning comes, if he could cry it might be easier but he can’t. He just sits there, eyes glowing red in the darkness, silently apologising to his sleeping brother for everything. Envying his broken, nightmare-filled sleep because even that would be better than this.
Al really hated the night!