Macrocosm
A Fullmetal Alchemist one-shot by SurpriseSushi
"The silence keeps it easy, keeps you safe for the moment. As you walk away, your footsteps get louder. All you needed was time, but now time will destroy us."
Watch Me Bleed, Scary Kids Scaring Kids
Staring at the gravestone, he smiled. "I never understood death. As an alchemist, I tried to pry every problem apart and looked at it scientifically. It never occured to me that not everything can be explained. I never thought that my meddling would result in this, I never wanted this. It's my job as an alchemist to understand, find an explanation for eveything, no matter the cost. At least... that's what I always thought. All these years... I thought I was so fucking right." He knelt by the freshly dug up ground, and placed a hand on the cold ground. "I hope you can forgive me, my friend. I wasn't there when you needed me, I was too-" The lump blocked the rest of the words, he was unable to continue. He plunged a single finger into the ground and shaped out a transmutation circle. "I never understood the theory for human transmutation. I started studying it after the Ishbalan war, I wanted to bring back all the people I had slain. You, you of all people, made me stop." Completing the circle, he began to take container's out of his bag. "I can only hope I can make it up to you, Maes."
I walked into the dark, cold house. Fear quickly seized me, it was too quiet. What was going on? "Gracia?" I called into the creaking house. There was no answer. I walked into the kitchen, and with a quick glance saw no one. Living room, dining room, bathroom, no where, there wasn't a soul. I started up the stairs, trying to calm myself, taking them two steps at a time. "Gracia, honey?" The fear grabbed hold of my stomach, and twisted violently. I paused for a split second in from of the master bedroom, before pushing the door open. My heart jumped to my throat. I couldn't breath. Gracia lay spread-eagled on the bed, covered in blood, a small bundle wrapped tightly in her arms. Her empty eyes bore into me, digging further and further into my mind. I knew what was in that bundle. My daughter, my beautiful daughter...
"Water... 35 liters. Carbon... 20Kg. Ammonia... 4 liters. Lime... 1.5Kg." He emptied the containers one by one onto the mound of dirt. "Phospherous... 800g. Salt... 250g. Saltpeter... 100g. Sulpher... 80g. Fluorine... 7.5g. Silicon... 3g." He looked up to the dark sky, drops of rain falling in tiny rivers down his face, mixing with the pre-exitsting tears. "Maes, I don't understand why you left me here, without you. Life is a peculiar thing. A thing alchemists- no, humans can't figure out. Can't rip apart and study. So I guess I'll never comprehend it. Why you took your own life..." He laughed. "Of course, you wife and child... but..."
I choked. It's impossible. How could this happen? My wife, my daughter? My entire life, torn out of my life before my very eyes. I lay next to them, my tears flowing down my cheeks like rivers. I closed my eyes, and breathed in deeply, Gracia's smell lingering, although I could detect the smell of death and decay. That's what being in the army does to you, I suppose... I stood up abruptly. I took out my knife. I can't live without them. It had been but a few minutes, and I found it quite impossible. I held the knife against my neck, shaking, the cold steel spreading a chill throughout my body, shocking me out of my numbness. My arm steadied. I took another deep breath, the smell getting stronger. I could feel bile rising up my throat, my tears falling from my chin. I'm sorry, Roy. I'm sorry... Gracia... Elicia... Without another hesitation, I felt my neck split open, and spilling my life fluids over my collar, and quickly flow down my torso. I fell to the ground. I saw my blood on my hands and on the discarded knife at my feet. Then I could no longer see the dark room around me. I felt my conciousness slipping, and I could feel the ground below me falling away. And then there was nothing.
"You fucking idiot!" He yelled, throwing out his arm, sending the ingredients flying in all directions. Breathing hard, he slammed his fist into the wet mud, tears streaming steadily down his face. "You fool. I... I can't do this. It's-... fucking selfish. There. I'm a fucking, selfish prick. I'm like most alchemists you see. I don't fucking think. It was me that caused this. All of this shit. Gracia, Elicia, it never occured to me it would lead to your death. Your death- you commiting suicide." He shook his head. "You fucking hypocrite. All those years after Ishbal, everytime I buried myself too deep, you pulled me out of the muk. All those times I tried to die, you stopped me, making me have a goal, making me keep my dreams in sight." He reached into his bag again, dumped the rest of the containers around the grave. "And what makes me really upset is that you didn't give me the chance to do the same." He pulled out a carton of cigarettes. "I remember you quit for Gracia. You said she hated the smell..." He pulled one out and put it in his mouth. "I hate you." He lit the cigarette, and took a drag from the cigarette, feeling the smoke swirl around his throat. He sighed, the smoke drfting away from him and disappearing. "I fucking hate you."
I stepped out of the car looking up at the house, sadness tightening it's grip around my lungs. I could barely breath. I wiped the dirt off my shoulder, and walked up one of the officers. "Who's in charge of this investigation?" I asked, pointed towards the lifeless house.
"That would be Major Armstrong, sir. He's right over there." The officer pointed to the too-large-to-miss man.
I thanked the officer and made my way towards Armstrong. "They gave it to you?" I tried to sound sympathetic, but the only feeling I had managed since I had heard the devestating news was none at all; I knew my voice was monotone.
Armstrong looked down at me, his face revealing how broken he was inside. "I couldn't let anyone else do it." He said simply, glancing at the house.
I put a hand on Armstangs arm, unable to reach his shoulder. "I understand. Would it be-..." I tried to find the words, but I could only put it bluntly. "Can I... Can I go see him?" I was staring at the house, and gripped Armstrongs arm.
"Of course." Armstrong said turning his head, so he couldn't see the tears running down his cheeks.
"Thanks."
Ducking under the yellow caution tape, I walked up the steps leading to the open door. Stepping through the doorway, I was intantly hit with the smells of death which I knew all too well from simply being in the army. Tears welled up in my eyes immediatly, but I held them back, determined to reach him. I couldn't break down into tears... not yet. I made my way up the stairs, trying with all my might to keep a clear head, but finding that to be extremely difficult. My breath came in shallower, and I mentaly tried to calm myself before I began to hyperventilate. Arriving at the top of the staircase, I paused a moment, to regulate my breathing. Straightening up, I walked down the hall, to the bedroom I knew lay my best friend, my best friend's wife, and my best friends daughter. Reaching the closed door, he hesitated, and then opened the door.
There he was, a few feet away from the bed his wife and daughter held to each other tightly on. Dried blood was caked on his neck, his knife lay at his feet, obviously dropped, his other hand outstretched towards his family, reaching. There was no sign of a struggle from either party, making him wonder vagely what happened. But most of his thought process was concentrated on the man. The gravity of what he had heard finally hit him, and he slipped to the ground next to the man, resting his hands on the man's back.
Cold. He was so cold.
I then noticed that my tears were slipping down my face. But I didn't care. Soilder's weren't supposed to reveal their inner feelings. But I didn't care. I looked at my fallen friend, my body seizing, and I lowered my face onto my friends back, sobs wracking my entire body.
"Maes..." I managed to whisper. "Maes..."
He flicked the cigarette away from him and stood, looking at his best friend's grave. Barely an hour ago, he had watched military officer's lowered his friend's dead body encased in wood into the ground. He had watched military men lower the bodies of his best friend's wife and daughter encased in wood into the ground. He had heard the numurmous goodbyes, made by soilder's and civilians alike. Glancing up at the dark clouds, feeling the rain falling onto his face and down his cheeks, mingling with the tears, he sighed. "Good-bye, Maes." And he walked away.
A/N: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Character death. O: Graphic character death. ACURATE character death. :D If it's not to egotisical to say, I really like this fic. I tried really hard on this one, and I hope my effort shows. I hope you enjoyed and will comment! :)
SurpriseSushi