There are times, when I really hate him. Brother. But not for the reason he would think, not for the reason he's scared of. Never for that.

I'm fully aware that what we did was wrong, and reckless, and by all rights stupid. But we did it together. Sure, I questioned it more than him, I was more hesitant, but that's because I've always been more cautious. In the end, I was right there kneeling before the transmutation circle with him, equally as eager to get our mother back.

So no, I don't hate him for saving my life and binding my soul to a suit of armor. Sure there are many inconveniences to being in such a strange body, but none of those are worse than death!

I hate when Brother pretends he's not hurting. When he pretends that everything is fine when it's so obviously not. He's not okay, and the fact that he pretends to be, for what? To spare me the worry? That's what I hate.

It's not like I don't notice when things bother him, when he's tired or sore. I want to offer to take breaks, or even carry him, but I know he wouldn't let me. The fact that he allows me to carry his heavy suitcase sometimes is a miracle enough. I may not be physically able to feel how long we've walked, but I can see it reflected in him, and the fact that he feels this infuriating need to push on, to keep his complaints quiet, I hate it.

I wish he'd tell me what was going on in his head, what scares him so badly it causes him to wake trembling, that he has trouble catching his breath. I can't help but think that, maybe if he talked about it, things would start to get better.

He doesn't think I notice, when his eyes glaze over and his mind is so obviously lost in some haunting memory of the past. But all I can do is notice, I can't feel or experience anything anymore, not traditionally anyway. So I notice things. It hurts that he doesn't ever want to open up to me.

Sometimes I try to voice my concerns, to show him my side of things. But he always brushes me off, tells me he's fine and then starts talking about something else. Maybe a new lead on the philosophers stone or some new alchemic breakthrough he'd read about, cheap meaningless chatter to keep my mind off what's actually bothering him.

I hate it, and I wish that he'd just see it's doing more harm than good. Him pretending to be strong is not helping anyone.

Unfortunately this is just the way things have to be. But he will never be a burden to me, and he'll never have to deal with it alone.