Author's Note:

I am posting A LOT recently…proud of myself!

Ok, so another story from my deranged mind

I'm getting back into writing for FMA…hopefully more inspiration will hit me…got this idea from episode one of the first series….NOT brotherhood (I hate brotherhood with a passion)

Rose before she reappears later in the series

Disclaimer: My imagination could never expand to the limits that it would have to in order to make a world as wonderful as FMA

…

…

Wobbling

…

…

She's like a newborn child again, wailing and hairless and bloody.

Well, maybe not hairless. She can see the strands of pink mixing with brown becoming one big blur as tears start to form and roll down her browned face. On the inside she is bloody, from the disbelief and mind-numbing pain that sweeps over her. Her fingers tremble, as does the lower half of her body, and she wishes that she could be as strong as Edward.

Edward Elric.

The man-child who exposed the last few years of her life to be a lie.

She didn't know whether she should hate him with every fiber of her being or thank him, and see him as a wonderful savor.

It was so much easier to hate, a thing that she knew all too well. All of her life had been consumed by it, so of course she knew that for a fact.

After her family had died she had little to nothing left. The clothing on her back held little meaning to her, as did the food that tasted like ashes on her tongue. Rage grew in her heart when she saw the pitying looks in people's eyes and tentative smiles that offered hope.

And she hated them all.

How dare they.

How dare they offer something like that.

No one could replace the aching and burning hole that gnawed away the middle of her heart.

Except for Cane.

He had found a way to a way to somehow break through to her, with his cheerfulness and his lovely voice and eyes that held so many secrets that she couldn't wait to unwrap.

Then she had a bright splotch of sunlight on her drearily painted canvas, once again making her eyes shine and make the rest of the world shield their eyes from it's brilliance. And she had been happy. Truly and wonderfully happy. There was nothing that Cane could do to make her anymore so. Rose would say readily that those were her dearest memories, the ones that she held closest to her heart. She couldn't remember much of her family anyway, only that she had had one and then lost it in a moment's time.

He had been a dream, a fairytale in a world of textbooks that told the horrible truth. In her dream world nothing went wrong, and she was always happy, with her prince ruling by her side, making sure that unhappiness and fear would never touch her. Rose knew that it was awfully childish of her, but to be quite frank she couldn't bring herself to give a damn.

When one is in a dream, they aren't aware of how horrible reality is, and they cling to it with all of their might when they feel that is about to be wrenched away by waking the dreamer will do anything to hold onto the feeling of floating. It is simply human nature, and Rose knows that no one would blame her for that.

When he died in that horrible, terrifying accident she hadn't thought that there had been a way for her to move on. The pain was so much more acute than it had been the first time. If questioned on as to why her answer would have been "Because I could fully remember the way that it had been when he loved me."

Father Cornello had saved her from the dark, showing her a path filled with light. She could hope and believe in the almighty sun-god, who could make everything right and set things straight. He was even so great and powerful that he could bring Cane back from the dead!

The nightmare of her life had once again become a dream; one filled with hope and strings of trust in the unknown.

Again her life was turned upside down on her head when a boy with shining locks like the sun and wings that were invisible but surely there, question her belief system. Rage had simmered through every part of her entity, and she had hated the angle like she had never hated someone before him. Denying her the right to her happy ending that she so desperately sought, wanted, deserved even. Who did he think he was? He was an angel but surely all angels had to fall.

Rose couldn't believe that she had fallen for all of the tricks and lies that the false angel had spouted and proposed when Father Cornello once again had shown her the way.

Well…maybe she could.

In some sick, twisted way, he reminded her of Cane. Seeing the world in his own blunt way and turning her round in every way until she didn't know what was up or down.

But Father Cornello had been her savior, shining on and showing the way when she had thought previously that there had been none. Was she really so fickle that she let the words of a mere boy who reminded her of her dead lover affect her so resoundingly?

But no matter how hard she tried to rekindle her belief she couldn't take out that tiny seed of doubt that had been sown in. She wishes that she could, but wishing never did make anything happen.

When Cornello is exposed, she already knew it down in her heart.

And she find that she does not hate the angel-boy who she so wishes was another.

She hates that he has broken her dream world where fantasies were glass marbles, and he had come stomping in, cracking each and everyone of them under his feet.

What comes after you are woken up from the dream though? Do you blearily blink your eyes and feign sleep so that you can try and remember it? Do you sigh and move on, not pondering on it too much?

Before, when her family had been wrenched away from her at such a young and tender age, she had gone with the first option, clutching onto the other world with the chubby fingers of youth and eyes of a child. When Cane had left her to wonder why the world hated her so much, what she had done so wrong, she had crushed it close to her chest and locked the dreams away like a secret.

The woman before her now was not the same woman of yesteryear, though. She had grown bones in few places they had never been before, offering her support. Her eyes had grown a luster that was called the truth, replacing the way that they had previously been clouded over with lies and falsities.

Even as she cried like she must have on the day that she was born, she was finally the woman that she wanted to be.

So what did she need dreams for anyway?

When the boy told her to walk on she knew that she could, simply because she now had the will to.

The tears were cleansing, and the weak smile she aimed at his back were all the thanks that she could give.

Placing her hands down in front of her she leaned forward, putting the weight of her upper body on them before shifting so that she was on both her hands and knees. Curling the toes of her feet so that they were underneath her she pushed upwards with all the points that were touching the ground, lifting herself up from the crouching position.

Turning her face away from the retreating angel's back she looked to the east, the direction of the sun, knowing now that there is not some great and magical deity hiding behind it.

She walks, leaving a trail of dreams behind.