Alphonse was a positive thinker. He had always believed that where there was a will, there was a way. And although he’d been a bit skeptic of Edward when Hohenheim introduced them, he was willing to give the boy – and his story – a chance.

And where had it gotten him now? All Edward did was point out mistake after mistake after mistake.
“It’ll never work that way,” Edward told him in frustration. “You aren’t thinking. Theories aren’t just based on imagination. You should know that.”

It had been the last straw. He’d been trying so hard. Did Edward not see that he was working on it as best he could? Edward helped him, taught him things, and explained more complex theories. But he didn’t believe that it could be done. He didn’t believe that Alphonse was capable of getting a rocket in space.

Space was a big thing for them. It was vast, unexplored, and filled with endless opportunities. That’s what Alphonse told Edward when he explained to him why he wanted so desperately to get into space. Better yet, he could use those opportunities to his country’s advantage; he could salvage some of their pride. And Edward had shot that all down.
“That’s why you want to go to space so badly. It’s perfect for a dreamer like you.” Edward hadn’t said it in a cruel tone; and yet that was exactly why it hurt Alphonse so badly. Edward didn’t care at all.

Alphonse reached for a rock, hurling it into the murky waters. It landed with a loud ‘plunking’ noise, sinking straight to the bottom, to be swallowed up by mud and other filth that polluted rivers. Who had given Edward the right to be so critical anyways?
“Finally found you.” Edward said suddenly. Alphonse whirled around, nearly jumping at the sudden intrusion.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Edward was watching Alphonse with an amused look on his face, and Alphonse was glaring angrily back.
"You’re so much alike. You and my brother.” Edward told him, sitting next to the young scientist. Alphonse still could only glare moodily, his anger still burning strongly.
“Whenever we got into a fight, Al would always go to the river by our house. And Mom would always send me there to get him.” If Edward sounded nostalgic at all, Alphonse ignored it.

“So come on,” Edward held out his hand, standing.
“Take it all back first,” Alphonse demanded.
Edward shook his head, half amused, half annoyed.
“Al never put up this much of a fight though. Then again, I was always mad at him, not the other way around.”
“Stop comparing me to your brother.” Alphonse hissed. “For all I know he could be some made up character in your deranged mind! Don’t compare me to someone who never existed!”
Edward took a step back, as if Alphonse’s words had slapped him across the face.
“Is that what you think?” His whisper was painfully hoarse and quiet, and Alphonse suddenly wished he could take back what he’d said.

“Al did exist.” Edward insisted weakly. Alphonse took a step forward.
“Edward...”
“I have the memories to prove it.”
“Edward.” Another step, a little firmer, less uncertainty this time.
“Don’t tell me he didn’t. You don’t know.”
“Edward!” One more step. Alphonse was right in front of him now.
And Edward stopped.

“I didn’t mean it. Not quite like that anyways. It’s just... you’re certain you weren’t dreaming all of that, right?”
“Positive.” Edward spat, teeth clenched.
“Then...” Alphonse paused, sighing. “Then I’ll try to help you. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I’ll try. Alright?”
It was Edward’s turn to pause, as he considered Alphonse’s offer.

“I’ll take you up on that.” Edward finally said, a grin on his face.
“You’d better not be making this up.” Alphonse joked, linking his hand with Edward’s.
“I’m not.” Edward firmly told him; following Alphonse step for step as he lead them both back home. And although outwardly Alphonse was smiling, inwardly he was wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.