FMA: Reassurance: Chapter 1

"What's on your mind, Alphonse?"

The suit of armor shifted nervously on the couch, and Maes tried not to think about the upholstery getting caught between the metal plates. "Well, it's . . . it's about—about my brother. . . ."

Maes nodded. He had figured as much; otherwise, Alphonse wouldn't have come here on his own. "Go on." The boy fidgeted with a great clanking of metal, but was otherwise silent. So he prompted, "Is something wrong with Edward?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. Maybe."

He propped his chin against his fist and smiled in spite of himself. "Well. That certainly clears it up."

"I'm sorry! I really don't know—if. . . ." Alphonse clasped his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry."

Maes patted the air. "It's okay, Al, it's okay. Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"It doesn't—really have a beginning—but, um. . . ." The boy twisted his fingers together. "Well . . . you know that Brother turned fifteen recently, right?"

"Mm." As if he would forget, with Edward's birthday being the same as his dear Elysia's. He always tried to send both boys something for their birthdays.

"Well—I've done some reading—about puberty, I mean, since he's been at that age. . . ."

"I see."

"So I know about the—the kinds of—of dreams boys have at that age. . . ."

He raised an eyebrow. "Alphonse—am I correct in remembering that you don't sleep?"

". . . Yeah."

He straightened, chuckling. "Well, I can see how that would be embarrassing."

"Oh, it's not that—I mean, it is, kinda, but I just pretend I didn't hear anything and pretend I don't notice when Brother cleans the sheets with alchemy. But—all that's normal. Or . . . or it would be."

"Yes . . .?" he prompted when the boy fell silent again.

"Well . . . you see . . . Brother talks in his sleep."

"Oh. My." Maes chuckled again. "That would be embarrassing."

"Most of the time he doesn't say anything that makes sense. But . . . but sometimes he'll say a name."

"Mm." He pulled his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt. "People you know, I assume." Maes remembered the types of dreams he had as a teenager; no remotely attractive female had been safe from his subconscious, no matter what his waking relationship with them had been.

"Yes. . . . But . . . you see . . . when he had those dreams. . . ." There was a great clattering and screeching as if Alphonse was trying to squirm through the couch. "He never . . ." he continued in a small voice. "He never says a girl's name."

He paused, digesting that bit of information. "I see." Well. That was certainly a new development.

"I don't know if it's something that'll pass, that—that maybe he'll grow out of it, or if there's something wrong with him but I don't know what could have happened—maybe it was because our father wasn't around and he didn't have a male figure to look up to, but—"

"Woah. Woah!" Maes held up his hands to stop the torrent of words. "Stop right there, Alphonse. Just—Stop. Okay." He put his glasses back on, and focused on the armored boy. "First of all—and I can't emphasize this enough—there's nothing wrong with Edward. Nothing."

"But—"

"But nothing. This isn't a question of 'right' and 'wrong.'"

"I—um—o-okay. . . ."

He sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look. I know the kinds of things you must have heard, and I can guarantee you that the vast majority of it is garbage."

"A-all right. . . ."

"Homosexuality isn't caused by anything. It's not a reaction. And sexuality isn't something anyone chooses, because I'm sure you've heard that before, too."

"Yes, but that never made sense to me," Al muttered. "I couldn't see why anyone would want to choose to be that way. . . ."

"Be that as it may, the point is, it's not a choice. It's just. . . ." He shrugged. "It just is. And it's more common than I bet you think."

"But it—it doesn't make sense. Lust and feelings of attraction are nature's way of getting us to reproduce. We can't—we can't reproduce with someone of the same gender, so why—"

"Look, I'm not a scientist. I can't explain why homosexuality occurs. I just know it does. But all of that is beside the point."

"It-it is?"

He nodded. "None of that changes who he is. Gay or straight, Edward is still the same brother you've always known." He paused to give that time to sink in. Al was so hard to read without expressions, but the kid at least seemed to be considering his words. "But think for a moment," he continued. "All the negative things you've heard about homosexuals and homosexuality, well, Ed's been hearing all of that, too."

"Oh. . . ."

"It's hard enough dealing with a developing sexuality without having to worry that you're somehow perverted or abnormal."

Alphonse seemed to draw up for a moment, then folded with a clatter, dropping his head into his hands.

"Alphonse?"

"I . . . think I just realized something," he said quietly. "Brother and I have always talked about everything, and I've been wondering why he's been so withdrawn about this." He raised his head. "I thought maybe he was doing something bad, but—now I think it's because—because he feels bad about it." He dropped his gaze and twisted his hands together. "I feel awful for not realizing, and for thinking. . . . Brother takes so much on himself, he must be feeling so ashamed."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did," Maes agreed. "But, Alphonse—that's where you can help him."

"Help him? How do you mean?"

"If I were to guess, I'd say Ed's probably feeling confused, and frightened, and maybe a bit betrayed by his own body. And, yes, ashamed. He's probably worried about what would happen if anyone found out. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"I—I think so."

"If he is gay, he's going to need your support now more than ever. You need to show him that his sexuality doesn't matter. It's the bigots who are wrong, not him, but he's going to need you to help him understand that."

". . . Yeah."

Maes leaned forward and patted one metal knee. "You shouldn't feel too bad about being confused yourself, Al. There's a lot of negativity about homosexuality out there, and not a lot that's positive, or even correct."

He fidgeted again. "Yeah. I still don't really understand, but. . . ."

"All you need to understand right now, is that it's not something he chose, and it's not something bad or wrong. And above all, he's still your brother. Right?"

He nodded. "Right."

Over the next hour or so, Maes answered the rest of Alphonse's questions as best he could. He knew it was simply going to take time for the boy to come to terms with his brother's sexuality, but he hoped he'd been able to provide a little reassurance.

"Poor Edward; he feels different enough as it is," Gracia commented later, after Maes had related the conversation to her.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Poor kid seems destined not to have an easy time of it." He smiled. "I think he'll be all right, though. He has his brother."

"Are you sure?"

"It would take more than this to drive a wedge between those two. Hopefully they'll talk soon. . . ." He trailed off as something occurred to him. Alphonse had indicated that many of his brother's hormonal fantasies seemed to be focused on the same person, but hadn't said who. But when Maes thought back now over some of Edward's past behavior, and reports he got from other sources. . . .

He chuckled. "Well. Talk about irony."

"Dear?"

"Nothing, nothing."

He probably shouldn't say anything until the kid was of age, but he had the strongest urge to call his best friend.