Disclaimer: There are two hints to this: Fan and Fiction.


A twelve-year-old blond sat in front of a dusty old piano, his fingers running across the keys gently. His face was shielded by his long hair, but one did not need to see it to know that his face was covered in grief. Ten fingers, five metal and five soft flesh, found their places on the ivory keys. One finger pressed down, and a clear, sad note rang throughout the room until it softly faded away.

The sad note seemed to remind the blond of something, and his muscles tensed and his body shook as memories from one rainy night a year ago overtook him. Guilt forced his body into a small shaking fit, and he allowed it to come. Slowly, the fit subsided, but the blond took no notice.

After a few moments, he seemed to realize that he was no longer shaking, and he turned his attention back to the keys. Another finger pressed down, and another sad note resounded. As if transfixed, the boy's fingers pressed down on more keys, and more sounds rang through the room. Note after note combined, until they completely joined together in a soft, sad, and clear melody. The music rang out, and after a few moments of playing, another sound joined them – a voice. It was the boy's voice, and it rang out clear, soft, and sad.

How can I repay you, brother mine?

How can I expect you to forgive?

Clinging to the past, I shed our blood

And shattered your chance to live.

Though I knew the laws, I paid no heed.

How can I return your wasted breath?

What I did not know has cost you dear,

For there is no cure for death.

Beautiful mother, soft and sweet,

Once you were gone, we were not complete.

Back through the years, we reached for you,

Alas, 'twas not meant to be!

And how can I make amends

For all that I took from you?

I led you with hopeless dreams,

My brother, I was a fool.

Even though his fingers did not stop their playing, his voice stopped singing. The music continued, sad and soft, and a tear streamed unbidden down the boy's face. Suddenly, another form joined the blond's. The form was quite large and awkward. If metal armor could look sad, this one did. Finding their places on the piano, the armor's fingers started to play along with the boy's, and his voice took the place of the blond's. (1)

Don't cry for the past now, brother mine,

Neither you nor I are free from blame.

Nothing can erase the things we did,

For the path we took was the same.

Beautiful mother, soft and sweet,

Once you were gone, we were not complete.

Back through the years, we reached for you,

Alas, 'twas not meant to be!

My dreams made me blind and mute,

I longed to return to that time,

I followed without a word.

My brother, the fault is mine.

At the last sentence sung, the armor's voice shook ever so slightly. Both forms shook, but both sets of fingers refused to stop playing. Soon the two voices joined each other, each a little louder than before, stronger than they had been when singing alone. Neither looked at the other, but sang to the otherwise empty room in which their music sounded.

So where do we go from here?

And how to forget and forgive?

What's gone is forever lost.

Now all we can do is live.

As their voices faded away, the music slowly died as well. Two sets of fingers lifted themselves off of the keys, and two faces slowly returned to each other, the blond's lifting up from the piano for the first time, his eyes stinging with tears. The two looked at each other sadly, conversations spoken without words between the two of them.



Silence reigned, but for only a moment. The moment of silence was all that was needed for sadness to take control of the blond's body. The blonde's shaking form slumped over, tears now streaming down the guilt-ridden face. The armor quickly reached out for him, resting his hands on the blond's shoulders comfortingly. The blond did not acknowledge this, but continued to sob in miserable silence. "I'm sorry, Al. I'm so sorry."

The armor looked down at his brother. "It's not your fault, Brother. If anything, it was both of us. But Brother, the past is behind us. All we can do now is live. And if we can't live for ourselves, we will live for each other. We're brothers – we exist for each other."

The young boy nodded. "Brothers are supposed to be crutches for each other in times of need. They look out for and protect each other. They love each other and will do anything for them."

The armor nodded. "And I know that we would do anything for each other, Brother."

The blond nodded and raised his head to look up at the armor. He cracked a small smile. "Of course, Al. Because we're brothers, and that's what brothers do."


I give thanks to theretard5892 and blah blah blah for helping me edit both the fic and author's note! I love you both! ^_^

This was inspired by "Brothers", not written but sung by Vic Mignogna.

(1) I don't know how Al's armor fingers fit on the keys. This is a fanfic. Go with it.

To clear up confusion on this: The piano is at Winry's house, most likely in the attic. That's where Ed stays anyway while he's recovering. Maybe it was Winry's mom's piano or something. I don't know.

Okay, please read and REVIEW. I do NOT accept it when people put me on Favorites List or Story Alert without reviewing. It freaking annoys me. So if you're gonna do any of that stuff… review.