A/N: Hi People! Umm... I'm Mage of Dragons. This is my first FMA FanFic. I just got into FMA last week when I watched the whole anime online in the course of three days. And now I'm obsessed. Anyway, this little drabble has been floating around in my head for a while now, and it wanted to be written so bad I had to stop re-watching the show to write it. So I hope you like it.
As he lies in bed at night, Edward thinks upon his life these past ten years. So much had happened- and everything had turned out differently than he expected. He had chosen this life, but, at the time, it had seemed there was no other option. He had tried to make the best of things, tried to not compare everything and everyone to what he had left behind, but it did not always work. Now, with each passing minute putting miles behind him and his far-off childhood, he couldn't help but wonder if things could have turned out differently. What life could have been like if things had been different.
His very soul still ached for the life he had left behind.
Lying in bed, his wife a warm, soft presence beside him, gave him enough comfort to be able to think upon the things that would be too terrible to think of otherwise, especially in the darkness. The sins that still weighed so heavily upon him; the decision to leave that pressed down even more heavily upon his heart.
On nights like these, when he thought of his childhood, of Resembool and Central, sometimes his thoughts strayed to the present. To his wife, lying beside him. To his children, and his nieces and nephews. Sometimes, a nagging thought pressed at the back of his skull, a little whisper of thought that trickled like a spring through his mind.
What does she think of me, lying beside her? It had been almost ten years since they had met, and she showed no lack of dedication to him, but still his insecurities would not rest. Does she hate the way my arm and leg feel when they brush against her? Did she want to flinch when they touched? Did she hide her disgust behind her compassion, as was her nature to put all others before herself?He had never been able to part with the automail that was his last tie to his past. It was a comfort, as well as a symbol, like the inscription he had scratched into his watch. Never forget. Never forget the past.
What does she think, when she sees me sitting, my hands pressed together, alone in the room? He could not help himself, could not stop himself to still try alchemy now and again… to try to, once more, to feel the power rushing through his veins. The science that made you feel like magic, he had once said. If he missed anything about Amestris, alchemy was it, he thought. From the moment he left, he had never been whole again. Alchemy had been his life—Edward Elric, the child prodigy, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Now he was simply Edward Elric, husband, father, professor.
As he thought back to home, he remembered something else, something that he missed even more than alchemy. It was the future he had always imagined he would have. The people he missed, all of them, even Colonel Mustang, even Armstrong, especially Hughes. But, most of all, Winry.
For, if in his mind, he thought that his wife hated the feel of his automail against her skin, hated her husband who spent too much time alone, lost in memories, then he knew in his heart that, if she had been given the chance, Winry would be right alongside him, clinging to his arm as if she would lose him if she ever let go, loving him with all of her heart.
And so, inside, Edward Elric cried- for the past that he could not let go of, and for the future he had always wanted, but would always be denied.