Trisha loved her children dearly.
She loved them like any mother should love her kids. She tended to their wounds, she cooked them every one of their meals, she kissed them goodnight and she loved and nutured them. But whenever she did so, there was always an itching feeling in the back of her head. Like something wasn't right, like something bad was happening that she couldn't stop. Most of the time, she ignored the feeling, but it became too unbareable sometimes. It always happened when her sons were together. She knew she couldn't think too much of it, as they were only 9 and 10. But as the time went by, she knew there was a reason for all of her worries.
Why did they do this? Was it due to the absence of their father? Was it because she wasn't tentative enough or didn't express her love enough? Was it the other children in the neighbourhood? Whatever the cause, the feelings Trisha got were getting stronger and stronger by the years. One night, while the boys were sleeping over at Winry's, Trisha took the time to sit down with Grandmother Pinako and have a glass of tea together. Then, the conversation took place.
"Pinako, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Trisha blew at her tea before placing it down on the little saucer. Pinako took a tiny sip of her own tea, making sure to not burn her tongue. She gave a low grumble. "What is it?"
Trisha stared down at her drink, trying to morph the sentences in her head. She hoped the words would just flow out after getting started. "Have you noticed anything odd going on between Ed and Al?"
Pinako placed her cup down, staring at the younger woman with worried eyes. "As a matter of fact I have. I have noticed the two are extremely intimate, and Winry has even complained to me about them sneaking off and avoiding her at times...and the way they interact almost seems too close for comfort."
Trisha kept her eye on her tea, avoiding actual eye contact with the elderly woman. "I was afraid you were going to say that."
"Even though I have said this, I don't feel there is much to worry about, Trisha. Ed has hardly turned 9, and Al is still 7; they are far too young to actually be what you're implying."
Trisha still avoided eye contact, losing the words she wanted to say. "I know, Pinako. It's just...worying I guess. Every night, in the silent house, you can hear their moans and screams and cries. I know they're doing something up in there, and whenever I go to inspect they pretend to be asleep. I can smell the sweat, I can see it on their faces, and the saliva around their mouths- they're not very good at hiding it honestly. But most of all, I can hear the bed creaking, and Al calling out his brother's name desperately. For months I have turned a blind eye, assuming it was innocent and harmless experimentation, but as it progresses, I fear of what the two will become later in life," she explained, looking up finally to see Pinako's tired face. The old women took another sip. "I know, but as I said, Ed is hardly even 9, and 9 year olds don't even know about sex or love. Al is 7, he would know even less. It is not going to carry out in their later life, but if you're that concerned, my advice is to discuss it with them, teach them about what's morally right and wrong," she replied, before taking another sip. Trisha gave one nod in agreement. She felt much better after discussing it with someone of great knowledge, but it was easier said than done. How was she going to address the issue? How was she going to bring up the fact that what the brothers were doing was wrong and not allowed? Was it just harmless experiments? Or was it something much more disturbing?
Trisha loved her children dearly...though sometimes she questioned their relationship.