Middle of exam week, what better thing to do than write a story? lol The second I heard this song I though "yeah, that's totally Ed..." and this idea's been bugging me ever since so I figured this would be a good way to skive revision. Got Your Back is still being written, for anyone who actually cares, but it's going slowly and I get easily distracted by shiny new ideas that won't leave me alone but never seem to get done, so I got this one done while it was in my head.
It's set about 10 years after Conqueror of Shamballa, so spoilers ahoy!
Disclaimer - If I owned FMA, I'd be milking it for all it's worth, not letting people read the stories for free...
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As Edward sat – alone – in an alleyway in the heart of a German town, he thought. How had he ended up like this? He couldn't remember... Couldn't remember what had kept him going all this time, couldn't remember the people who had watched him keep fighting... Couldn't remember at all the woman whose death began it all.
I stumble through the wreckage, rusted from the rain
There's nothing left to salvage, no one left to blame
What kind of person had he become in that time? What kind of life had he lived? One of hurt, certainly, one completely shattered by his continual mistakes. One that had all but faded from his thoughts.
Among the broken mirrors, I don't look the same
I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain
How did he used to be? Brash, determined, full of a confidence borrowed from some strength he no longer possessed. If anyone who had known him then were to look upon him now, they wouldn't recognise him; there was no way that hopeful, animated boy could grow into this long-broken shadow of a man. But when that animated boy had been forced to stop moving, his sins had caught up with him.
Dissect me till my blood runs down into the drain
My bitter heart is pumping oil into my veins
Why had he even committed those sins in the first place? At the time, and for years after, he had told himself it was all for Alphonse. It was only later that his violent breakdown ripped him from those illusions.
I'm nothing but a tin man, don't feel any pain
I don't feel any pain, I don't feel any pain
His wrist still bore the scars from his 21st birthday, when he could no longer cope with the guilt of all he had done. Alphonse had stopped him, of course, and Edward had agreed to keep his heart beating, but not for himself. After that he was numb, for weeks in a trance no-one could shake him from; when he finally came out of it, some wished he had stayed there so they could keep fooling themselves that he was alright.
I'm rusted from the rain
But now he was tired; tired of this mocking world he was forced to live in, tired of people constantly asking how he was, tired of Alphonse covering for him when he should be living the happy life he had earned. No... Everyone had constantly hesitated around him from the moment they realised something was really wrong with him; his brother had been the only one to see the fractures before he shattered completely, but he wasn't fast enough to catch him as the pieces fell.
Go on... Crush me like a flower, rusted from the rain
He wanted... No, needed, someone to fight back at him, to tell him he was useless like this and to fight this off like he had done before. But he hadn't seen the one person who could do that for over ten years – he could barely remember his name, and his features had long been forgotten. It didn't help that Edward had pushed all thought of that world away from himself once he knew he could never return.
C'mon... Strip me of my powers, beat me with your chains
He had only ever felt truly weak once, when he realised the life that he had known was over; there had always been a plan forming to combat every other situation, but there was no way around this fate. He was doomed to fade away from every person he knew could help him, every security he had built up for himself. Every strength he had.
And if... I'm the king of cowards you're the queen of pain
I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain
And then there was her; he had called her friend but meant so much more. He knew it would be a bad idea to admit to himself what she meant to him, but once she had been taken away from him, his heart began ripping itself to shreds and he was powerless to stop it.
You hung me like a picture, now I'm just a frame
I used to be your lap dog, now I'm just a stray
Back to the man. Why had it hurt enough to block the memory of him out, when he had barely tolerated him before? He was loathe to admit it, but the man's treatment of his youngest subordinate had taught him as well as denied him that knowledge, exploited him when shielding him, built him while destroying him. If it weren't for him, Edward would have broken before he turned fourteen.
Shackled in a graveyard, left here to decay,
Left here to decay, left here to decay,
Instead he had broken with no-one around him but his brother and the gypsy. The girl had tried to release him, but he had woven himself so deeply into his regrets that they had bitten into his soul and trapped him in the darkness. She had given up eventually and left, unable to cope with Edward's emotionless dismissal of any kind of interaction.
I'm rusted from the rain
His spirit was too tired now, he was too worn down to do anything. His back rested against the wall of the alley, the icy air sending shivers through his body. But he wasn't cold.
Go on...Crush me like a flower, rusted from the rain
C'mon... Strip me of my powers, beat me with your chains
And if... I'm the king of cowards you're the queen of pain
I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain
Why had he even done it? Maybe the thought of her had been playing on his mind lately. But why would he still think of her? How could he still think of her, when he had made such an effort to forget everything else that now caused him pain? He just couldn't let her memory go, and now he had done this for someone he had never met. He had seen her before... Dear God, had he seen her before, every night taunting him that he couldn't have her. But the one he did this for, that wasn't her – she just wore the same face.
Go on... Crush me like a flower, rusted from the rain
C'mon... Strip me of my powers, beat me with your chains
And if... I'm the king of cowards you're the queen of pain
I'm rusted from the rain, I'm rusted from the rain
He knew he should be fighting onwards, but he couldn't remember how. Where had all his old strength gone? Maybe it was back home, with all the things he had been fighting for before. His listlessness began with that ending, maybe he really had lost everything then...
Go on... Crush me like a flower, rusted from the rain
C'mon... Strip me of my powers, beat me with your chains
And if... I'm the king of cowards you're the queen of pain
I'm rusted from the rain
The pain was losing its sting now, and it no longer hurt to breathe – but he didn't have the energy to breathe anymore. Warm liquid had long since pooled within and around him, but he didn't really mind; truth be told, he rather liked that deep ruby colour. It was always warm, and was a symbol of life – now it was leaving him through a wound in his chest and he was content to sit and watch it soak his clothes and the ground. There was nothing he could do now anyway...
I'm rusted from the rain, Oh the sun will shine again,
I'm rusted from the rain
Maybe this was the best thing? He couldn't get back to his own world, and he couldn't live in this one; perhaps a different world was better. His brother wouldn't have to worry about him then, he would be free to live the life he deserved...
I'm rusted from the rain, Oh the sun will shine again
As his vision dimmed, the faces from his past became clearer as their names all returned to him; the soldiers he had met along the way, Roy Mustang, who had pushed him to his potential even if it did more harm in the long run... And Winry, who had never left him.
His eyes drifted shut as her smile remained in his mind.
I'm rusted from the rain...
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Took about half an hour, barely proof-read at all, but meh. Did you like?