Title- Fresh Wounds

Author- D M Evans

Disclaimer- all rights belong to Arakawa sensei

Rating- FRT

Characters/Pairing- Ed, Al

Timeline/Spoilers- post 108

Word Count- 248

Warning- mentions of canon losses

Summary - It was too soon to lose him.


Ed didn't want to tell his brother about the call that came into Mustang's office. He still didn't know what to make of it himself. Ed hadn't been there when the call came, but Riza had gently relayed the news to him. Ed had gone to the library first, not reading, just thinking, feeling at home among the alchemic texts. Finally, he couldn't put it off any longer and he headed to the hospital where Al was recuperating.

"Brother, are you all right?" Al's voice still sounded thin, reedy. "You're pale. Is your shoulder hurting you?"

"Yeah." That wasn't a lie. They operated on his shoulder as soon as they could before the oils on the metal could poison him. "But that's not it. The bast…" Ed clenched his jaw. "Pinako called. Dad made it home."

"Ed?" Al's lip quivered, sensing it.

"He died next to Mom's grave."

The words hung there, flat and stinging like an open hand slap. Al's eyes welled up then tears fell in a torrent. Ed had promised himself he wouldn't cry. Leave it to Hohenheim to desert them again just when he proved he loved his sons, that he was really a cool son of a bitch. He was mad. Ed wouldn't shed a tear.

When the nurse came to check on the monitor's beeping like mad, registering Al's anguish, Ed couldn't even pretend he wasn't clinging to his sibling, mourning their loss just as loudly and wetly. Fate was a bastard.