A/N: This is a one-shot inspired by ep. 40, set in Al's first-person POV.
Disclaimer: Don't own Fullmetal Alchemist; if I did, we'd see Al kick butt on a regular basis.
An Empty Shell's Grief
I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry--oh god, I'm so sorry Martel.
I don't care about deserving or not, obligations or promises, or even love, some juvenile crush--you shouldn't have died.
...Why couldn't I protect you? Why did I think, just because it worked so many times before, that it would work this time, that I could hide you away?
...I CAN'T EVEN FEEL YOUR DAMN BLOOD! I CAN'T, THERE'S NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING, OH MY GOD, THERE'S NOTHING--
I can...I can just hear you. Hear the blood drip, drip, drip, drip, hear it slosh against my steel. I can hear you tell me Fuhrer's a Homunculus, an echo of something that hadn't been said even a minute ago. Just seconds. Seconds was all it took. Snap, crackle, pop, life snuffed out, rinse, wash, dry, blood's wiped off.
...I should've handled the revenge issue between us better. I should've been...more honest, just cut the crap, admit that although an "eye-for-an-eye" makes no logical sense, is blurry in morals, I could understand it, as much as one who's never felt the desire for it possibly could. Until now. But no...don't let this thought drift away, finally give it form, even though it's too late. I...I...I...I was really afraid you'd die, if you continued running toward revenge; I just wanted you to live, be happy. I dreamt of touching you when I was normal again... Guess it doesn't matter now, does it?
...THE HELL? Metallic fingers snapping open, chalk clattering to the floor and rolling away, making a gravelly sound. Impossible eyes stare numbly at the hastily drawn, half-complete array, its chalky white texture mixing into a globby mess with the still moist blood. I know that array. Mom. Human transmutation. Homunculus. Boy without a body. ...God, have I learned nothing? I really am asking You, my impossible eyes staring up into the sky, my impossible tears and sobs still progressing, and her blood still impossibly dripping. God, did I just try to hurt Martel like I hurt Mommy? Did I think I could be You?
...Enough. I stand up, and the slow motion, no matter how careful, causes her to bang against my insides. I am disturbed by my total lack of shivering. I am disturbed by my sudden need to clean up. Must be quiet, must be sneaky, must bury Martel--no burning, too much like Kimbley--and then, and then wash away the blood. Make myself presentable. Make myself less heavy. Make myself less of a sinful demon. Make myself ready for the Homunculi.
I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry--oh god, I'm so sorry Martel...
A/N: I love Al. (Well, I love Greed more, but...) I've always liked the idea of armor boy having a crush on Martel, and I actually do believe it's a subtle canon on the show. Well, after this episode, just had to write this; FMA has way too many sad scenes... Then again, that could be part of the reason why it's so great.