I should really be going to bed for school tomorrow, but this little bunny snuck into my mind and refuses to go away. Not to mention I had a long nap after being stuck outside the dentist office for three hours because the car broke down. It's still there, mechanic's coming tomorrow. Just got that car a few months ago too. (off topic)
Well, any who, needless to say, I love Pride, I love 2003 Wrath, and I love mixing the two animes together in some sort of disfigured bastardization. So that's mainly where this came from. Well, enjoy.
Disclaimer- I do not own FMA, in any way, shape, or form.
-Guardian-
If there was one thing that made itself known over and over again during his short life, it was that Wrath wasn't fit to protect anyone. Any and all attempts usually ended up backfiring terribly, with either himself or someone else, most likely the person he was trying to save, dead or dieing.
Of course, that didn't stop him from trying. And of course, that was how he ended up meeting his own end. Trying to protect and help Full metal's little brother. That annoying, optimistic idiot who actually thought something would be accomplished if he sacrificed himself for Edward's return. From the black haired sin's point of view, Al dieing would be setting things backwards, and just create some sort of endless cycle. Ed wouldn't be happy if Al wasn't alive, and vise versa, and they would just keep on sacrificing for each other until there was no more philosopher's stones and no more loopholes with nothing left to give, and they'd both be gone forever.
So he'd protect them from that fate. Or, as was more likely, die trying. So that's exactly what happened, not that he really minded all that much. Yeah, having most of his ribs crushed, ripping up his internal organs and having his body just generally beaten to a pulp by the gigantic, mindless remains of his former ally hurt like a bitch, but once it was over, it was over.
The pain was gone, and he'd protected the happy idiot too. At least, he hoped he did. There was no way for him to know whether or not the transmutation worked and Ed returned. Knowing his luck, they'd managed to open the gate, but the older brother had not come through. Yes, with his luck, all he'd managed to do was save Alphonse from the certain death he brought to him when he showed the blonde the way to underground Central where Gluttony was lying in wait, while putting the guilt on that innocent little creep's shoulders of taking a life.
No, not by any standards was Wrath fit to protect someone.
So what was he doing here?
Yes, he wasn't alive, so yes, he couldn't mess anything up by just watching, but the entire situation seemed to just reek bitter irony. Besides being what was possibly God's last choice for a guardian angle, this person, child, monster, was in less need of protecting then a raging forest fire.
Wrath had no idea what had drawn his invisible and confused spirit (was it a spirit? Did homunculus have those?) towards the seemingly innocent child at first. He'd already realized by then that this world was some sort of cruel mockery of his home, after watching the other Elric brothers search for ways to regain their bodies with something called Alkahestry and when they went north and fought the homunculus Sloth who was not his Sloth and he had to leave because he couldn't watch anymore and they used water (or at least, it looked like water to him, he didn't really care either way) to defeat him and it reminded him too much of more of his failures to protect. His biggest failure.
It was still uncertain in his memory exactly when he'd arrived in Central after that, or when he first noticed the president's son. It was a gradual process though, having seen and heard of him many times before actually paying him any notion.
It was probably because of King Bradley that he did, Pride, no wait, Wrath. It almost made him laugh when he found the homunculus' true name. Sure, it was only the byproduct of this mixed up world, but for some reason it made something sink in for the first time. He was dead.
Despite the disturbing realization, and complete lack of interest when he had been alive, it intrigued him now. Bradley (it was simpler then calling him Wrath or Pride, too much confusion with those names) had a family. A normal, human family, and yet he was a homunculus. The prospect seemed unreal, and even though it was the same in his world, it was different here.
Of course, it hadn't taken long at all to figure out that this normal, human family indeed was unreal, and the only thing remotely close to what he'd imagined was the poor, unsuspecting mother. It was always the mother.
A child homunculus. Just like him, and yet different in so, so many ways. For one thing, Wrath truly was a child, fifteen at his death. This homunculus, sin, monster, was a child in looks and looks alone. Smarter and darker and crueler then most adults could even imagine. Over three hundred years of deception.
Or well, that's what he thought, at least. When he watched the century old child slaughter and destroy with an enjoyment hauntingly similar to what used to be his own, Wrath was sure that nothing would change these thoughts as well. Unsurprisingly, he had a habit of being wrong, as well.
The promised day, as the people involved called it, was upon them. It interested him, to say the least. There was nothing he could do but watch and see how the world would either fight off yet another threat or finally succumb, like some sort of sick play. The child homunculus had already consumed Gluttony with ease. The sin he had given his life to defeat, destroyed without moving from his spot.
His victory hadn't lasted long though, tricked into some giant dome which made his terrifying and destructive powers completely useless. And of course he was trapped alongside Alphonse. Stupid optimistic idiot.
Going into the dome was beyond easy, he had no body to be kept out. Even when he did, at the height of his power, he still wouldn't be been able to be kept out. The two trapped sat, neither able to see. Wrath could though. He had no physical eyes to be hindered by the lack of light.
Al had questioned, tried to understand without being tricked, and the three hundred year old monster explained, truthfully, that he did care for his mother. That she had surprised him, and despite the deception, he wasn't being cruel to her. Didn't want to be. That was when the invisible spectators views had changed.
It was always, always, the mother.
He'd figured out that the meaningless banging was a signal quickly. He might have appeared dumb, but he wasn't. Just careless. There wasn't anyway for him to warm Alphonse though, and he wasn't sure if he would have if he could. Sick as it was, this world needed to figure out it's own problems, and if Wrath helped, he'd just make things worse. Just like everything else he tried to protect.
He's escaped, and fought, and tricked and deceived. It was nothing short of what the long haired sin had expected. The forced human transmutation of Roy Mustang, as well as his undying loyalty to his father was a small surprise though. Broken, beaten and literally falling apart, he kept on fighting. Because he had to protect and follow his father. Because he created him.
Again, Wrath felt like laughing. He was thankful. For being created, for being alive, and was trying to repay the debt of existence. What a strange thing for a homunculus to think. Wrath shook his head sadly as the other child sin fought with the last of his strength. He couldn't tell who the oddball was here, himself, or the three hundred year old.
When he heard his plan, it was the first time that the transparent boy felt the urge to actually do something. Stay in your own freaking container, don't use Ed! It will end badly! It always ends badly.
He was right, but went unheard. Betrayed by Kimbly even after his death, not that there was any surprise there, Ed gained the upper hand. Destroyed by someone who was suppose to help you, and from the inside. Only Kimbly had done it on purpose. It wasn't a failure, not like his. On the contrary, the destruction of that child, sin, monster, Selim Bradley, Pride, had been a triumph.
Staring down at the pebble of a being, seated comfortably on that gaudy red coat, Wrath sighed. He hated babies, and it was always, always, always the mother. What had he expected though? He was no guardian, so why did he keep trying to be?
No, if there was one thing in his short life that made itself known over and over again, it was that Wrath wasn't fit to protect anyone.
Wow, still not 100 percent sure where this came from, but I like it. Now I really need to get to bed, gotta wake up in four hours. Well, please review, it makes me happy inside.