A/N: Ever since I'd started writing fanfiction, I've always wanted to write a Fullmetal Alchemist fic. The story of Ed and Al is so touching and I firmly believe that FMA is one of the best anime I've ever watched. 'Nyways please r&r. Thanks!

I do not own 'Fullmetal Alchemist' or any characters in this fic.

It was raining. Not the heavy downpour accompanied by brutal wind that hurled torrents of water down. It was the soft refreshing drizzle of a summer morning, the kind that was soothing to the mind and soul, which calmed troubled thoughts.

Edward Elric sat at the window, gazing out at the light shower. The lush green landscape of Resembool looked more beautiful than he had ever recalled it being so. The greenery even complemented the soft azure sky. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, yet a few drifting rays did escape the snowy blanket. They illuminated fantastical shapes formed naturally by wind movements and made the clouds appear lined with pure gold and glow slightly at times.

Just looking at the scenery brought back memories of his mother. Trisha Elric had loved the scenery so much, which was why she had never left Resembool. But then, she was always in love with gentle things, like flowers and butterflies…

The raindrops splattered against the glass before rolling down slowly like tears shed by the sky. Ed blinked, trying to swallow the lump which had risen in his throat.

It was a cold, hard fact. His mother was dead. He would never see her beautiful smile or hear her soft laughter ever again. And he had been stupid to think otherwise.

He had been very foolish, very foolish…

He should never have tried to bring her back. Should never have meddled with human alchemy. All he did was bring more pain to himself.

He glanced at the stump which had been his right hand. His left leg was gone too. But his brother had suffered far worse.

An image of Alphonse flashed into his mind. His brother's body had been destroyed during their attempt at human alchemy. Ed had managed to salvage Al's soul, but only just in time. Now Al's body was an old suit of armour, cold and unfeeling as metal had no sensation of heat, touch or pain.

Ed could only imagine how horrified Al must have been to find himself like that, but he had been desperate to save Al from being gone forever. Having already lost a mother, he did not want to suffer the loss of his brother as well. The thought of him being all alone to face the world frightened him, though he would not admit it to anyone else.

Ed ran his hand distractedly through his blond hair, frowning at a tiny cricket on the grass as it chirped softly. Somewhere in the distance, a frog began to call. It was soon joined by a chorus of other frogs, forming a soft harmony to the meditative atmosphere.

He felt sorry for Al. Al should not have had to suffer like this. It was Ed's fault that Al was going through this. If only none of this had happened…

The drizzle was receding now. A robin flew out from the branches of a tree beside the window. It landed on the windowsill, hopping a little as it cocked its head. Its beady eyes scanned for danger. Seeing none, it shook itself rapidly; scattering droplets of water from its feathers before taking flight again, oblivious to the wistful golden eyes that followed it, their shine muffled slightly by the glass of the window.

Ed dashed his hand across his eyes. It would not do for Al to burst in unexpectedly and see him crying. Al would certainly be worried, which he did not want at all. But, he sighed, it was hard, so hard not to give in to the tears. He had to be strong for Al.

Something soft brushed his hand. Ed glanced at it. It was a single red feather, just like the robin's. For some reason, it made him grin through his tears. He picked it up gently, looking out at the blue sky scattered with white clouds.

Ed could still atone for at least one sin. He could at least restore Al's body. But to do that, he had to become a State Alchemist. And to do that, he needed hands and feet.

But it was a trifle matter. He could get automail quite easily here, he thought, glancing at a decorative frame which rested on the bedside. It contained a yellowed picture of Al, himself and their friend, Winry playing together.

From inside the house, he could hear the sound of Grandma Pinako labouring in the workshop. Making another automail, no doubt. She was a great automail mechanic, a talent which her granddaughter, Winry, seemed to have inherited from her. The Rockbells did make high quality automail at an affordable price.

He knew the installation would certainly be painful, but he would endure it as well as he could. It was a tiny sacrifice in order to return Al's body to him.

He gripped the feather tightly in his hand as his eyes blazed with determination. He would continue to live…but only for Al.

Only for his brother.