I s o l a t i o n.

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To set apart or cut off from others.

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It was in the nature of Alphonse Elric to worry. He worried when he was four; he still worried when he was fourteen. Especially about his big brother.

Edward Elric wasn't faring good in the eyes of his little brother; he was unnaturally pale, eyes more shadowed and blank, slowly loosing their fire as it usually did this time of year. His normally golden blonde hair had seem to fade along with him; it was now a light, cornsilk color, something that oddly fitted him as his usual hair color.

Alphonse knew that he wouldn't have interrupted Edward when the elder told him quietly that he was going for a walk. And he didn't. Because he knew that his older brother needed the space, or because he wanted to be alone too.

He tried to tell himself that it was the former. His heart told him it was the latter.

Everything, everything was all his fault. When they were younger, Edward would do everything that he asked him to. No questions or obligations, no complaints (well, not that many) swiftly cut, clean, pressed, anything to make Alphonse happy. He should have known better, he could have told Edward no, he could have said that he was scared and that he didn't want to do it, but he didn't. Even though it was Edward's idea, Alphonse could have stopped it. But he wanted to see his mother too, he missed her as much as Edward did. He didn't object, he didn't do anything. But he could have, and they wouldn't have been in this predicament right now.

Alphonse stole a glance at the clock. Five hours. Edward didn't take this long to go out on a walk; his maximum was always two hours. Always. He never stayed out later, and it was hastily approaching the darkness of the nighttime. Alphonse stood up, metal creaking.

He burst out of the door and walked - practically ran - toward Colonel Mustang's office. Edward may have not liked him that much, but he was trustworthy. Officers stared at him, and some greeted him (they recognized him as the little brother of the famous Edward Elric) and some plain out ignored him. He didn't get the chance to greet them back; he was in a rush.

The doors to Colonel Mustang's office burst open as Alphonse stood there in his seven foot tall glory, silent and unwavering. A few pairs of surprised eyes strayed his way; it was usually his brother's job to break down the door, not Alphonse. Colonel Roy Mustang, a six foot tall man with messy black hair and eyes to match, blinked before smiling pleasantly, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye by his side.

"Ah, Alphonse. It is...unusual to see you here." Alphonse knew what Mustang was talking about. He rarely came alone, only with his brother. Although he trusted Mustang, the man still creeped him out for some weird reason. "Where's Fullmetal? I have a new mission for him. And please, tell him that his handwriting need's to improve - " Alphonse knew that Mustang was simply whining for no reason, because Edward's handwriting was the best he had ever seen, neat and perfectly spaced with looped 'p's, 'g's, 'y's, 'd's, 'f's, and an assortment of other letters. Still, he interrupted.

"I can't." If Alphonse had a proper face, he would have looked devastated. But he didn't, so all he looked was indifferent, and his voice was quiet, blank, and crisp. No other military officer had ever heard Alphonse speak this way, and it was kind of scary. Mustang closed his mouth before digesting this new information.

He started again. "Why...not?" Alphonse's voice still had the same tone, the tone that spoke that he had finally lost everything.

"Because he's gone."

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This place isn't like where I came from. It's a brave new world.

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It's exactly the same; people still live, cry, laugh, and die.

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Alphonse was getting impatient. Because they were searching for half and hour and it was freaking pouring. Thank god that he felt nothing on his blood seal so far, but luck can only hold out for so long. He wanted to find his big brother, quickly, and he wanted to see that reassuring smile on his face and that warm feeling in his heart whenever he saw Edward. He wanted to feel it, because it was the only he could feel at the moment and he wanted it so badly.

On this day in particular, Edward's eyes were the equal of a dead person. They didn't see, they didn't have that burning fire that made them so bright. There wasn't any hard determination or smug victory that burnished in him. There was no stubborn streak in them; there was no reckless glare or selfless bravery that was usually reflected. They were painted, they were blank and dull and monotone; they were drab and blue, they were absolutely lifeless.

The only other time his eyes turned like that was when he was absolutely ruthless.

They weren't his anymore. Instead, they were of a wise man's, more of a person who had seen so much and experienced to sadly live the tale. They were simply distant, like he was, they were so cold and gone, gone far away from him or wherever he was allowed to reach. And, he thought, that is the scariest. Because this day scared him more than anything, it made him want to cry and it made him want to throw a tantrum because it took his brother away from him. It made him scared because Edward Elric wasn't his brightest on this day, he wasn't the flame that everyone wanted to touch and see and yet still stayed away from, because he was much, much better than them. Because his eyes weren't as warm or as mesmerizing on that day.

They simply weren't gold anymore.

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That's nothing but a dream.

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A dream...but which one is the dream, and which one is reality?

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You'll never know.

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Alphonse scanned the gray area once more, feeling desperate. His eyes passed a flash of blonde, and he trained them again to focus on the most gruesome sight ever since that day -

Edward, with his face down on the pavement floor. Limp blonde hair flowed past his shoulders, and he looked like he simply fell from standing than just laying down, his arms in front of him. Alphonse couldn't see Edward's face, but he did feel his mouth move.

"Big brother? Brother?" He started to walk toward the red-cloaked figure, sure it was Edward. Behind him, Mustang, Havoc, and Hawkeye moved in order.

"Fullmetal?"

"Chief?"

"Edward, sir?"

He barely heard them, his nonexistent heart beating franticly. His mind was going haywire, and seeing Edward on the floor like that, hair out around him. pale and looking cold...

"Mom!" Trisha Elric was passed out on the floor, the thump of her wooden bowl falling to the floor echoing throughout the house. Alphonse and Edward stood on the doorway, looking distraught.

"Mom!" they shouted again, dropping the groceries and instead choosing to stumble to their beloved mother. Her skin felt pale and cold, clammy and ill. Alphonse shivered from looking at her and Edward's bottom lip was trembling.

"Mom! Wake up!" Edward shouted, shaking his mother gently. Alphonse started to cry, hot tears forming at the corners of his eyes. What was happening? "Mom! Please!" Alphonse joined his brother in trying to wake his mother up, trying to figure out if this was a dream or not. It felt so real... it felt so sick... it felt so wrong... What was happening?

Trisha Elric did not move.

Alphonse stopped in his tracks as that memory came back, haunting him again. His soul-eyes flashed to Edward's unmoving body, where everyone was now crowding over. How it looked the same, in somewhat the same position in which signified the last few days were the person would never see light again...

Oh no, Alphonse thought hastily. Why are they mixing?

Flashes, memories of both his mother and his older brother, both parental figures to him, mixed together. If their mother died, then would Edward...

"BROTHER!"

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If your so persistent with this, I'll send you to meet God myself!

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Nah. Me and God, we don't get along to well. Even if I went, he would send me right back.

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It was two hours, twenty six minutes, and thirty-one seconds since they found Edward passed out on the floor. It was an hour and a half, two minutes, and fifty-six seconds since he was admitted into the hospital. Right now, the four of them, all waited in the door outside Edward's room, feeling the incredible urge to break down the door and force his way through to see the blonde. Well, Alphonse felt so, anyways. Mustang was calm and cool, the perfect commanding officer. Hawkeye was sharp and ready, eyes darting back and forth. Havoc simply frowned, looking only the slightest bit troubled.

Alphonse felt his ire raise. How dare they act so indifferent! This was his big brother they were talking about! Edward was the only thing he had left, the only person he would die for in his life, and here they were acting as if the doctor inside the medical room was a furniture sales expert and was choosing what colors would match with their sofa!

Alphonse stopped and berated himself for that terrible acronym. Honestly, his mind was going insane. But this was Edward, the only person he would ever go insane for.

The doctor opened the door, and three pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly while one stared, desperate. The brown and gray haired doctor sighed heavily, and Alphonse felt his heart sink. The doctor flipped a page on his clipboard.

"Mr. Elric has been under the high influence of stress, a slight case of malnutrition, and from his body status, insomnia." the doctor peered over his wire-rimmed glasses, then continued. "His mental status also states a severe case of melancholia, or depression. Unfortunately, Mr. Elric has also caught a bad case of pneumonia from being outside in the rain for too long." The doctor sighed and flipped the page again, wisely ignoring the shocked looks of everyone around him. "You were lucky. Depression not only affects the mind, but the body too. When the mind is depressed, the body's vital functions start to decrease. He might have gotten another more life-threating disease. People who are stressed often have their immune systems not functioning properly, making them more prone to illness." The doctor looked up at them now, eyes completely serious.

"Which one of you is Alphonse Elric?" The doctor blinked surprised when the suit of armor raised his hand timidly, but shook off the shock. This was no time for that, because what he was about to say was serious, and the younger needed to know. "Well, Mr. Alphonse, your brother is also in the danger of getting a particular illness. It's called cancer. Perhaps you heard of it?"

Alphonse heard of it alright. He stumbled back, falling back into his seat. Cancer... No way...

Mustang hesitated, before trying to talk the younger Elric out of shock. "Alphonse?" he asked softly.

"Cancer..." Alphonse breathed. The participants of the room watched as his armor trembled. "Cancer...was the sickness that caused mother to die."

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Water, Carbon, Ammonia, Lime, Phosphorous, Salt, Saltpeter, Sulfur, Magnesium, Fluorine, Iron, and Aluminum.

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The circle of life only goes in one direction, not even alchemy can change that.

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The doctor said that the cancer cells in Edward's body were practically nonexistent, and antibiotics had helped get rid of them completely. But Alphonse couldn't help it, because his older brother was so close to dying, so close to going the same way that his mother did.

He was sure that if Edward died, than he would perform suicide by breaking his own blood seal; he didn't care if life was worth living if Edward wasn't there. Then, at least he would be in peace and forever with his family, forever with Trisha and Edward.

But now, he sat and stared at the peacefully pale face of his older brother, hoping that this day would finally pass and Edward would regain that burning fire in his eyes, just like Alphonse knew he would, every year. Right now though, he thought how Edward was so close to going to a place where Alphonse couldn't follow, but he would still do so anyways. Edward was his older brother; but he was so much more.

All those times when they were little, when Edward would take care of them when Pinako couldn't and after Trisha died, Edward became something more to him than just an older brother. What he became, what he depended Ed to be...

Dad.

Someone that was his father. Alphonse never held any monstrosity against his real father, because he never remembered him clearly like Edward did. And also, because to him, Hohenheim was never his real father, so he never hated him. Even though he called Hohenheim 'otou-san', the only one he would really ever feel like deserved that title...was his 'nii-san'.

Edward would always be his father, and if Alphonse could help it, he would even call Edward 'dad'. But he supposed that would be too awkward, not for Ed, but for everyone else. He wondered if Edward would actually like it, and he left those thoughts for somewhere else.

All he could see right now, was the face of his (father? brother?) and wishing that Edward would wake up, give him his warm, brilliant smile, and they would be up and running again, just them two together. Because he knew that Edward would wake up, because that was just the person his (brother? father?) was. He knew so.

But right now Edward wasn't with him (yet), and he never felt so lonely.

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Don't Forget.

Oct. 3. 11.

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