-1Disclaimer: I do not own FMA whatsoever.
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Underscore-
I looked at that innocence and thought, 'how can something so beaten be so pure?'
The body was cut down. Extra -insignificant- branches, once powerful pillars of flesh that could mould proven laws into something else entirely, reduced to two stumps.
How would I feel to lose half of my strength?
I'd seen paintings in churches of beings with hair spun of melted gold. But being the non-believer I was, I paid no mind. The stained glass was secondary to my mission. Enemy targets burned at the tips of my fingers, consumed in flames that I had created.
He looked at me hard and long. Defeated, he lowered his gaze to the floor.
My mind flashed back to those intense flames. They were something I had created, but could not control.
And those eyes. Determined, independent, strong. The eyes of a beaten animal, wounded beyond belief for survival that did not accept the loss.
Science said he should not still be in the world of the living, nor the inhabited armour next to him. They had done something forbidden. It made me wonder if this was their first mistake.
Although, whether the answer was yes or no, why did he still look so innocent?
For all I knew he could have committed more crimes than my lifetime of sin.
He kept his childish qualities while I lost mine.
Yet as I gazed at the child -young man- in front of me I thought how much he had changed. He was no longer helpless without anything but determination to back up his words. Many times he has sinned, as have I.
I found no need to remind him of what he already knew.
His eyes burned into my mind, so different yet so alike out child counterparts' passion.
He would save his brother and I would exact my revenge. I am proud to call him my equal.
"Goodbye, General."
"Goodbye, Full Metal."
Suddenly, as I watched him run into the sunset and face his destiny, I realized that it was likely neither of us would survive. Determination can only get one so far. Innocence can be broken.
I unleashed my burning flames thinking that if only I had kept a strong heart and will instead of breaking down into a depression, my friends, alive and dead, might have been with me that day.
He was -is- better than I. He should have been the one to survive.
Alphonse told me he did. But I still doubt.
I can no longer bear to create flames at my fingertips. The brilliance is gone, to be replaced with a dull sheen of artificial lights.
Riza tells me they look the same as ever. She is wrong.
I look over to the crudely shining of the hospital lights as they reflect on him sleeping. The strength is gone, the innocence is lost, and all buried underneath the coma a boulder put him into.
I have lost half of my strength, an eye for a mad diplomat, but I can still see and function.
I see the determination to live behind his eyelids.
Maybe someday, I hope, the light will come back to my flames. Then I can embrace what my eyes could not see and hear what my ears could not.
A call that was thrown over a metal shoulder like a last minute afterthought, "I'll be back, bastard."
I smile.
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AN: I am sure people got confused somewhere along the line, but if you got the gist of it, be proud. This was written to be choppy, like thoughts often are.
The scenes are as follows: Roy answering the sent out "letter" and coming upon the transmuted Elric's, Edward and Roy saying their goodbyes at the end of the series, and the afterward plot change if Ed and Al did escape (instead of Ed going through the Gate) and debris falling on him (hence the coma).
You can interpret this as RoyEd or merely friendship-fatherly feelings. It was intended to be borderline between the two.
