"We're going to find the Philosopher's Stone and turn our bodies back to normal."
He's been saying it for so long that neither one of them notices the slight dim in his voice that builds each time, like shadows stacked upon each other to blot out the sun.
Its their mantra after all. That single bead of light that holds them together as a world of chaos whirls around them.
Deeper and deeper into the storm they plunge, yet neither one knows how to stop.
They've come too far, after all, to turn back now.
Alphonse wonders just how far they have yet to go... and if they will ever make it.
It was always Ed who was in the future, always dreaming up ideas and awards and success.
Al was content to live with his brother's shadow, supporting, being a team. If his brother had a dream, then Al would do whatever it took to make it happen. Because Ed would have done the same.
He is glad to cling to his brother's dreams and be swept up in the wake of promises of rainbows and sunshine.
That's all he has, after all, are the dreams of a boy half-made of metal and the wishes of a child trapped in machine.
Ed always looks at him when he speaks, as if his words alone will turn this shell into flesh.
Those who listen always nod patiently. Those who don't do anyway.
It doesn't matter who listens or how many times Ed has to say it, anyway.
The dream is always just beyond tomorrow's sunrise, a bit farther than the next rainbow.
Al remembers chasing rainbows when he was small, though he doesn't know how he can.
And he remembers that they never, ever found the end of it.