A day of white. The soft seedlings of winter drifting from the hazy sky onto frigid streets. The air so cold that it choked him, smelling of smoke and gunpowder.
His brother's silhouette in black, black coat and black gloves, strong and bold. An arm reaching for another- "You can't take them! They've done nothing wrong!"
"Stay back! Unhand me, you- do you want to join them?!"
He saw Noah loaded onto the train, pushed, shoved, tugged by many hands with so many hungry fingers like he'd seen long ago in a distant world. And the man- "Scar!" he called, even knowing that it wasn't his real name- get on after her, calling to his brother to stop, it was alright, it couldn't be helped, they'd be alright...
He saw his brother's hair lashing out in the wind, like a golden snake, as he fought. How could he not fight? That was who he was, no matter what they'd gone through, that was who he-
The silhouette of black crumpled onto a crisp mound of white, brilliant gold soon shrouded by a warm solution of scarlet.
Steam rose in the air from the melting snow. And Alphonse found he could not scream. No more. He could not scream.
He was alone again.
EDIT: And I think to myself....whatever happened to Ed Not Ded?? O.o
EDIT 2: Yeahhh...my "Adapting" fic was definetly more hopeful than this. >.>;;