Work Text:
Sometimes, when everything is still and the world around him sleeps, Al closes his eyes and plays pretend. He sits perfectly still and pictures himself as he should be and not as he is. Dreaming with his eyes open, he can be real again. He can have rough hands scrape against unblemished skin.
What if, he thinks. What if...
But he opens his eyes and there is sand stinging everyone else while Al remains an impenetrable fortress.
"There is God's work to be done, Alphonse Elric," say the echoes in his head.
Alphonse touches his breast plate and murmurs, "Yes."