A/N: so, this is the story i've decided to work on first. i've got a pretty good handle on the plot, though it'll take a while to get it good and actiony. yes, i do consider that a word. :D this was actually a really fun chapter to write, and i hope to hear that you all enjoyed it. if it didn't capture your interest, by all means, tell me so that i can improve!
also, this is an AU-universe, so don't be offended by the lapse in continuities. it will eventually turn into a high-school AU, though that's obviously going to be a few chapters off. hope to see you all stick with me until then!
"Momma! Momma!" Edward squeels, racing down the stairs of his house. One hand clutches the railing as he goes, the other is clenched around something small and fragile, holding his find close to his chest.
In the kitchen, Trisha looks up from the sink she was loading and turns towards the door. Waits patiently for her eldest son to burst in, then offers him a smile and a tilt of her head.
"What is it, Ed?" She asks, wiping her sudsy hands off on her apron before walking over to her son. She bends down just as he opens up his hand, holding the precious creature out to her.
"It's a grasshopper!" Edward tells her, and behind him, Alphonse pokes his head into the kitchen. "I found it in Al's bed!"
Said boy nods frantically, refusing to set foot inside of the brightly lit room. Two chubby hands clutch at the door-jam, honey brown eyes watching the green insect that his brother is so enthralled with.
Trisha cannot help but laugh.
-x-x-x-
"Now what, Mom?" Edward asks, peering up at the brunnette woman next to him.
Trisha smiles, eyes raking across the book propped on the back of the counter. It's sitting open, one page revealing the recipe for a chocolate cake, the other giving instructions on how to bake chocolate chip cookies. They are simple recipes, really, but she has not baked in so long.
Not since her husband left, almost five years ago. She just hasn't been able to bring herself to do it - but Edward had been so excited when he thought up the idea of baking a cake for his brother's upcoming birthday. She just couldn't tell him no.
"Go get us two eggs please, Ed." She instructs, then busies herself with pulling the flour from its space on the back of the counter.
As she counts out the scoops needed, her eldest son gleefully hops down from the stool he was standing on and rushes over to the fridge. Moments later, he is clambering back up the step-stool and cracking the two eggs into the bowl.
"Like that?" he asks, beaming up at his mother with wide, golden eyes.
"Just like that." Trisha assures him, and she gives him a gentle smile in return.
She cannot believe that Edward is already seven.
-x-x-x-
"What? But we have to have eggs!" Edward whines, voice full of dissapointment. In an effort to prove his mother wrong, he squeezes his way between her and the fridge to search for the elusive product himself.
The container where they normally deposit their eggs is empty. In fact, most of their fridge is bare. Just essentials, no embellishments. If he were older, this might strike Edward as odd. But he's only nine and, at the moment, his only thought is on the fact that without eggs they can't bake a cake.
And they always bake Alphonse a cake for his birthday!
Distraught, he turns his wide eyes onto his mother. Doesn't notice how her own eyes are shot through with red and rimmed with black, nor does he see how her skin is almost deathly pale.
"Mom! We need to get eggs!" Edward says, waving one hand at the empty refridgerator.
Trisha is silent for a moment, debating the risks of getting behind the wheel in her condition. They are high, she knows, but the store is also just down the road and, though slightly cloudy out, the weather is still good.
So she nods ascent and then slowly, carefully, crosses to the hook that she keeps her keys hung on.
"Alright, Ed." she says, voice soft and weak. "Let's go get eggs."
-x-x-x-
By the time that they leave the super-market, Trisha's ever-constant headache has risen to a new level. It feels as though someone has crawled inside of her and is pounding away at her brain, striking it time and time again.
She almost falls on the way to the car, and if she had remembered to grab her cell-phone before leaving the house she would have called someone else to come get them. But that is still in her bedroom drawer, just like her bottle of medicine, and she doesn't have enough change for the pay phone.
Cannot bring herself to ask a stranger for assitance.
And, really, home is just around the corner.
"Put the groceries in the back, Ed." Trisha tells her son, and her voice shakes when he does. Edward does as he's told, then pauses before getting in the car.
"Mom?" He asks, narrowing his sharp eyes at her. "Are you okay?"
And he looks just like his father, right then. Sounds just like him too. It is unbelievable really, and Trisha has to blink hard to keep the tears from spilling over. Bites her lip and just nods at her son, then she pats the seat beside her - because she doesn't trust herself to speak. Not without crying.
"Really? I get to sit up front?" Edward doesn't wait for an answer, just clambers into the passenger seat and pulls the door shut behind him. Without even having to be told, he hooks his seatbelt and then settles down, all worries forgotten.
-x-x-x-
She is so tired and her head hurts so badly.
Home is less then a mile away. Just a little bit longer, Trisha tells herself, then she can get inside and lay down. Take some medicine and relax. Maybe even get a shower, if her body feels up to it.
She is so tired. Her head hurts horribly.
In the seat beside her, Edward is fidgiting. Something isn't right with his mother, that much he knows. She never looks like this or acts like this. The car is never silent when it's just the two of them - yet she hasn't uttered a single word since they left the parking lot. Not once. So he followes her example and doesn't say anything either. Just stares at her with worry filled eyes.
She is so tired. Her vision is blurring.
Trisha doesn't realize it when her car swerves into the wrong lane. Just knows that the pain in her head has spiked and that she cannot breath right. Vaguely, she can hear Edward screaming beside her. Someone honks and the skid of tires echoes in her mind - then there is a sharp sting in her chest and nothing more.
She is so tired. Her eyes close and never again open.