“Planning Ahead”

“Tell me you have a plan.”

Edward glanced at his brother and laughed dryly. He had to otherwise he’d cry, and Ed hadn’t cried since Al returned to his body. “Why must we already rely on me having a plan? Why can’t you have a plan for once?”

Grumbling, Alphonse slumped, his body slowly giving way to the torture he had sustained. Dark contused littered his chest and arms, while blood dripped from several wounds, all seemingly from cuts in his flesh. Standing now for the last four hours seemed only to exacerbate Al’s condition, and he seemed on the verge of collapse.

Thus, Edward looked away and did his big brother duty—conceived a plan to save Alphonse

Looking out at the packed and crowded square in Central, Ed glanced over the numerous faces that came to see their execution. Somehow, he knew Winry was out there and Teacher and probably the Colonel, Lt. Hawkeye and Major Armstrong. But none of them could help him now.

And armless, he couldn’t perform Alchemy and Alphonse tied the way he was, neither could his little brother.

But, like everything, they could succeed—together.

“Alphonse.” Ed nudged his brother in the shoulder, gaining the exhausted Elric’s attention. Those tired golden eyes gazed back him so hollowly that Ed almost screamed. “If we each slap one hand and one foot, we can circulate an array in both our bodies to transmute the chains and free ourselves.”

Al glanced at him, an accusing glare in his eyes. “And then what, Brother? We’re surrounded by thousands of people and armed guards, as well as a hundred of military soldiers.”

Ed shrugged and grinned. “One thing at a time, Al.”

“The story of your life, isn’t it?”

“Our lives, little brother.”

And Alphonse simply sighed and complied, having no retort for the truth.