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Trisha’s soul mark faded the longer she was gone from them. The once saturated purple ink dripping down the two boy’s skin before fading completely. Along with the color drain were the memories of her. Childish in nature and slowly fading into a fuzzy haze at the back of both children’s minds. Neither could be blamed for the memory loss, time is cruel and their mother left them at too young of an age.
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With ink and markers, Al watched as his brother tried to replicate their mother’s mark on both their skins.
The color is wrong. Too dark and the lines were shaky. There’s no warmth beneath his skin anymore.
It won’t be the same…
It won’t matter.
The color will fade within a few days anyways. Their mother’s memory fading quickly with it.
Still his brother draws. The best he can do from memory and Al will do the same.
Something that neither speak aloud about. Never bring up again past holding out their arm and a purple marker in the direction of the other. There’s a sense of safety that comes with the mini ritual. Like they won’t truly lose their mother. The time they spend researching, how to bring her back, they won’t forget about her. And when she returns, they will no longer need to mourn for her signal of love for the two of them.
That’s all the two can hope for.
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Al could still remember the pattern his brother’s mark left on his arm. Vibrant and warm like the sun.
The armor he finds himself in is cold and dark. Steel gray plates, the only color being his brother’s blood, smeared in the back and serving as a constant reminder of all they gave up.
Everything they lost.
Al’s own soul mark is gone from his brother’s skin. Al’s not surprised, not really. There’s no way of knowing if it would have still been there whether or not Ed lost his arm in the exchange for his soul. Not when he ended up like this.
Not human. Not dead either. Existing.
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Al tries to draw their mother’s mark. It’s not memory that fails him this time but rather his own hands. Clumsy in a suit that isn’t his own body.
He’s frustrated and hurt, and if he could cry he knows that his face would be damp with snot and tears. He’s going to hurl the marker across the room.
He doesn’t get the chance too.
Al watches as his brother takes the marker from his uncoordinated hands, uncapping it with his teeth and starting to draw the familiar purple pattern along his one remaining arm.
This time Ed adds blue. In a swirling design that overlaps with their mother’s artificial emblem.
The younger Elric watches. Watches how his brother draws now with a shaky metal arm, not doing much better compared to his own attempts, getting used to the changes made to his body far too slowly. Watches while Ed tosses the mark away not even bothering to cap it off, as tears slide down his older brother’s face, ink pooling where his griefs drip onto his skin.
He thinks he can feel his chest ache.
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His brother dyes his hair the second month after joining the military. He’s not sure if it’s through grief and pain, a rebellious stage that so many adults claim that teens and preteens go through, or a lack of control in his life that drives him to do so.
All Al knows is that the bathroom is a mess and the ends of Ed’s hair are now tinted a muted shade of purple and blue.
He looks…
Ridiculous.
With the bright red jacket that he refuses to go without and black leather pants. Al wonders if he might look a bit more ‘put together’ if he would wear the military uniform instead. At least the blues might match together a bit more.
“Brother…are you sure you want to-”
“For the last time Al! Yes!”
“Okay…”
Maybe if he had looked more put together no one would have made a fuss over his appearance.
“What are you wearing…?”
“Clothes.” The snarky reply does nothing to quell the cornel’s temper.
“This is the military, not a circus.”
“I know that. Hard to forget it actually.” He turns to leave, which is the worst possibly outcome to this argument as it allows everyone a good view of his now dyed hair.
Roy steps forward and grabs Ed’s face in his hands, squishing his cheeks.
“Ow! Hey!”
“Tell me this isn’t permeant dye and that it will wash out in a couple of days.”
“Umm...”
“Fullmetal!”
“It’ll probably wash out!”
Roy sighs, letting go of the teen. Ed rubs at his face, scowling at the colonel with a scowl. “I’m letting you off with a warning. Al?” Roy knocks on Al’s armor a couple times. “Make sure your brother doesn’t do this again.”
“Yes sir.”
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There’s gold dripping down his fingers, making them look as if coated in a layer of liquid gold. Slowly the color drips to rest on the inside of his palm, curling to mix with soft shades of blue that swirls to wrap across his knuckles on the other side of his hand.
Roy watches in wonder for a moment at the colors. Tilting his hand back and forth and does nothingbut stare at his skin for far too long.
Soulmarks.
He’d like to say that he didn’t know exactly who’s they are.
He’d be lying to himself.
Although he’s confused about how they came about. Better yet why neither boy brought it up.
Roy pulls his gloves back over his hands with a sigh. Of course nothing was ever straight forward with those two boys.
Very well.
They’ll see the marks and if they wanted to, they’ll come to him.
It’s something that he doesn’t need to worry about.
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It’s past sometime midnight. Al can’t sleep, instead sitting vigil, protecting his older brother as he tries to get some rest.
“Alphonse…” Ed’s voice cracks as if he didn’t expect himself to start speaking and break the silence in the room.
“Yes brother?” Al doesn’t comment about him still being up. Ed didn’t sleep much to begin with. It was a miracle if they could get through the night without a fit of nightmares or insomnia.
He had mistakenly thought that tonight was going to be a good night.
“Do you ever wonder,” he can’t make out the rest, his brother turning so that his face was squished into his pillow, voice muffled by cotton sheets.
“Huh? What was that?”
Ed pulls himself into a sitting position, pillow now clutched to his chest as if a child seeking comfort in a stuffed toy.
“Do you wonder why we never- I never- got any other soul marks.”
He hadn’t thought about it. Not much. It felt as though there was nothing to think about. His body was gone. There was no real way for him to ‘touch’ another person. To see if they were bonded or not. There would be no sign. No color that would spill across skin and settle in a pattern of shown connection. He’d more or less come to except this. Among many issues in front of him it seemed like the least of his concerns.
And yet Ed still possessed his body. His whole body wasn’t artificial. His arm was still flesh and real. It stood to reason that in all the people they’ve met there might be one who held a connection to the older teen.
“I know we can’t count you cause well…” ouch. “but- fuck! It hurts.” Ed collapses back onto his bed as though all his energy had been used on those last four words alone. He stares up at the ceiling, metal fingers abandoning the pillow and now digging into his own arm.
“Brother.”
“I don’t understand? It’s like no one cares. Does no one care?! Are we that fucking useless?!”
“… I don’t know.” His brother must not hear him, spiraling into his own pent-up tangent.
Dark thoughts are tumbling out of his mouth, info dumping months’ worth of trauma and doubt as though keeping them inside of his head for another moment longer would make him burst.
“Did we really go that far? It’s inexcusable, I know that. But I’m sick of indifference. I’m sick of pity. I don’t want pity I want someone to care! Like the death of mom wasn’t enough. Like being children wasn’t enough. We lost everything and it still feels like it isn’t enough! Would anyone even care at this point if you and I weren’t here? What are we even doing here? Is there even a point?! I just want to fucking end it all-”
“Brother! Brother enough you’re scaring me!”
Ed’s mouth clicks shut.
His eyes are hazy and dull even in the pale light. He blinks as though waking from a daze.
“Sorry.” Ed says. Turning to face the wall again. “Sorry Al.”
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“You look like hell Fullmetal.” Mustang jabs upon seeing the teen walking in late.
“Thanks for pointing out that out captain obvious, I feel like shit.” It’s clear there is no room for playfulness in the teen’s tone, harsh and sharp and a clear indication to everyone that he wants to be left alone.
Al bows slightly. “Sorry about brother. It was a… rough night.”
“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He hears Ed scoff behind him. “Damn bastard, don’t act like you give a shit.”
Al feels like kicking his brother just to get him to shut up.
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It doesn’t get better from there. Al’s realizing that if he can’t get his brother to at least settle a little at night then he’s going to run himself ragged researching until dawn to distract himself.
Even he can tell that Ed’s not doing well but there isn’t much that he can do for that anymore.
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“Is that supposed to be a soul mark?”
It’s a horrible question to ask and Al can’t help but flinch at colonel Mustang’s tone when he asks it.
“Sir.” Riza tries to step in but he holds a hand up to her.
“No. I want to know. I’ve never seen it before? Who’s it from?”
Ed’s fingers twitch, hand outstretched, jacket sleeve rolled up to expose his skin. “You wouldn’t know them.”
“Oh? And how do you suspect that? Someone here? That mechanic of yours? Or someone-”
“It’s fake.” Ed says, a dangerous edge coming into his voice. The same one that Al’s grown used to during late night conversations and long-winded rants. The same tone that scares him into thinking that his beloved older brother is going to do something that he will no longer be able to take back.
“It’s. Fake. Alright? The original faded years ago and I drew it in with a marker! There, are you happy now?”
Roy’s stunned, whatever jab he was going to say dying on the tip of his tongue. The room feels stagnant as though the temperature had just dropped several degrees.
“Kid.”
“Just give me the damn report.” Ed holds out his metal arm impatiently.
Roy stares at his arm, his real one, now covered by the sleeves of his jacket.
“The report, sir.”
Roy sets the pages down on his desk. “No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Ed bristles.
“I mean, that we need to talk.”
It’s as though the teen is doused in ice water. The way the anger leaves him all at once. “You’re not going to discharge me over something as stupid as no one caring about me, are you?!”
Roy doesn’t respond to him. “Lieutenant, do you mind stepping out for a moment?”
“No sir.”
He slams his hands down on the desk. “I’ve been doing fine! I don’t need you’re fucking concern now of all times!”
A sick feeling sinks into Al’s very being and refuses to leave when Roy still doesn’t respond to Ed’s outburst. Not to tease him, not to tell him to shut up. Nothing. He starts to back his way out of the room, intent on following Riza out and saving himself the grief of whatever lecture his brother is in for.
He doesn’t make it far before Roy looks up towards. “All three of us.”
Well now he really doesn’t want to stay.
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“What did you mean by saying no one cares about you two?”
“Nothing.” Edward pouts, sulking in the office chair he’s been forced to sit in, Al besides him, trying to cower despite his form.
Roy sighs, head in his hand as if he’s disappointed. “I know of a whole team of people who would do anything for you kids.”
“Uh-huh, sure you would say that.”
“I’m being serious here Fullmetal.”
“You have no proof! Or are you going to make me show my arm to you again?”
Al hates that he agrees. He wants to believe Mustang. He really does. But the evidence is as plan as day. They only have each other to rely on now.
“Of course I do. Really I’m ashamed of you, doubting.” Mustang pulls off his gloves without another word. “Take a good look Edward.”
The oldest Elric squints.
“Who’s…” Al doesn’t finish asking the question. Doesn’t need to. Blue and gold swirl across the other man’s hands. The same shades he remembers them appearing on his and his own brother’s arms.
“I was assuming that it would have shown up on your arm…” Roy’s voice trails off as the oldest Elric reaches out to touch the soul mark.
Al knows he won’t be able to feel the warmth when he runs his fingers over the marks, but looking at his brother’s reaction is more than enough proof.
A small gasp leaves Ed’s lips, as though he can’t quite believe the feeling as his fingers run over trails of blue and gold. A phantom warmth spreading through his automail.
“Now do you believe me?” Roy asks with a huff. “Of course, I care about you two kids. I always will.”
Ed nods numbly.
The colonel continues. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner. I thought you knew and didn’t want to talk about it.” They both stare at him. “Which, in hindsight yeah… not my best conclusions I must say.”
“Stupid bastard, leave it to you to not think anything through.” There are tears in his brother’s eyes.
Ed’s fidgeting with his sleeve, looking like he wants to run. Roy stands and both boy’s track him as he comes around his desk. Arms slightly open, Ed bounds into his arms without a second thought, Al following and despite the lack of sensation he can’t help but feel the warmth of the embrace.
“I know. I’m sorry boys.”
Ed’s crying, Al thinks he might be too if he could.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. But I promise to make it up to you both.”
There’s someone that care about them. At least one person who’s by their side. And even if they don’t have proof etched into their own skin, it’s enough.