The putrid smell in the air, the blood, the confusion. Al’s clothes laying on the concrete without a body. A writhing humalike mass of blackness and bones reaching for him, in the center of the transmutation circle where his mother was meant to be. The agony in his limbs, traded away for the truth, and his brothers soul.

The fleeting and brief period of depression. Silence. Then the pain, internal and external. His heart rearing to life at the promise for a chance to fix this. The suffering through automail surgery, the worthlessness and guilt that shadowed his mind every time he looked at his brother. A suit of armor, bonded to his soul by blood, and the sacrifice of Ed’s arm.

Edward was no stranger to nightmares. Not a night passed that wasn’t plagued by them. Yet somehow they always made his heart roar in his chest and his body wake in alarm.

He shot up with a start, gasping softly for breath as his hair hung in a curtain around his face.

“Damnit…” He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his forehead.