He was trapped, trapped inside this senseless body. No taste, no sleep, no breathing. Nothing. Could he really call himself alive? He was a walking suit of armor. Just a soul trapped where it didn't belong. They'd get their bodies back. How many times had his brother said it, with that willful expression? It was reassuring, but, it didn't stop him from wanting.

One night, he watched the way Winry's hands glided over the metal of his body, and he realized: he couldn't feel her. What was it like to touch? Had it been so long he'd forgot the feeling of soft skin on skin. Touch me. Touch me but I will not feel you. He could reach out to her, but there was no feeling. There were no tears to even cry his loss.

He was without, another reason he was cut adrift; real but unreal.

Ed kept rebuilding him, not matter how many times he broke. There'd been those dark moments when giving up seemed so much easier. Could his brother see it in his eyes? Those dull cold metallic eyes, lying eyes that were just a shadow of what should be human, could be human. Did he see his silent plea? Touch me brother, only you can feel me. If he saw it, he ignored it. Perhaps it was for the best. Touch was a fading memory, just another thing on a hopeful list for when he reclaimed his body.

If he ever reclaimed his body.

A/N: Originally written for the secret ingredient 'Willful' at the monthly contest community Fanfic_bakeoff