I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Cinderella
Everything was getting blurry. It faded out like a photograph that hadn't turned out quite right and was then left sitting alone on the table, an unknown memory of an unknown place. It sat silent, an image taken through a lense of tears, forgotten in the pain of the moment and ruined forever in solitary waste. No one would ever know what those tears had been for.
Hughes struggled to take in a breath, vision shot through with red lines of pain.
He was dying, almost dead now. The world faded piece by piece, a finished puzzle now being swept back into the box from which it had come.
Another breath jerked into his lungs.
What would he tell his wife and daughter? Apologizing for dying seemed a little too lighthearted. Ah, but then he supposed he wouldn't be telling them anyways. Someone else would do that.
Someone else would give them the news. He could see it, the shock in Gracia's eyes, the little quiver of her lips, a slow nod and soft "thank you officer". He could see Elisia waiting for him at the door, asking his wife where he was. He could see her trying to explain it to Elisia. He could see them crying.
Don't cry.
He struggled to get another breath in, letting his thoughts flow. They would be his last; at least they were of his family. It was the most he could do for them now.
Never again would he get to hug his wife and child. He would never see them laugh or smile.
Elisia would grow up without him. She would learn to ride her bike without him. She'd start school without him to drop her off and pick her up each day. She'd make friends, laugh, cry, dance, sing, dream.
Would she miss him? He was sorry if she would. He hoped she would. He hoped she wouldn't.
Soon, Elisia would grow up into a young lady. She'd have her first boyfriend, one he approved of. She'd change and rebel against them, stay out at night and speak with sarcasm. She'd turn into a beautiful girl, graceful and lovely. He'd have to chase away all the boys. Lucky he had a gun.
He could see her yelling at him, mad and stomping up to her room. They'd fight. He'd make her breakfast because she was his darling daughter. She'd give him a hug and run out laughing to go out with her friends.
He'd stay up late worrying about her, pacing the floor till steps were worn in the cream carpet from him moving back and forth.
She'd be grounded.
One day she would move out of their home and strike out on her own. She'd become whatever she wanted to be and he would be the proudest father in the world.
Then would come that day. The day he would give her away to some other man. She'd be dressed in white, smiling at him, eyes so full of hope and joy that his chest would swell with pride. She would be beautiful, gliding down the aisle till he took her hand and led her up the steps to give her hand away.
She'd cry.
He'd cry.
He was crying now. All those days would never come. He would never see his little girl growing up, never get to teach her how to ride a bike, help her solve the hard homework questions, give her advice about life. Never get to see her married.
It was too late. His clock had struck midnight and Cinderella was already fading away.
His chest burned.
I'm sorry Gracia.
I'm sorry Elisia.
So sorry.
Forgive me.
Please.
Thoughts? Just a small idea about what was going through Hughes' head as he was dying. I imagine they would have been mostly about his wife and daughter.
