Sewing Life
Summary: Tucker has a conversation with his daughter while his chimera-wife rots in the basement.
Pairings: None.
Warnings: Sadness.
Shou Tucker sees nothing.
He looks ahead, and stares blankly at the wall.
He sees nothing, feels nothing, thinks nothing. He certainly doesn't think of a cold body beneath his hands, and fur matted with blood tangled in his fingers.
He is nothing.
"Daddy, can we play a game?" His little Nina is standing there, looking up at him with large, trusting eyes.
"Not now, Nina."
"How come?" she asks so sweetly and he wants to scream. Scream at her, at himself.
"Daddy has to work to do. You know that." He twists his wedding ring, pulls it off, and sets it on the table. The movement catches her attention.
"When is Mommy coming home?"
"Soon, honey, soon."
"How soon?" she presses.
"Maybe a few months," he says.
"Oh. Okay." She pauses, and he waits for the inevitable question. "How long is a few months?"
"Soon."
"Okay!" Satisfied with the answer she nods and beams up at him. Somehow, he is able to force his lips upwards.
He turns back to his work, but she doesn't leave. She fidgets and peeks up shyly at him through her bangs.
"What is it, Nina?"
"Are you sad?"
He glances down at her, startled. "Why would you ask that?"
"You look sad."
"It's nothing. I'm fine," he lies.
She places her hand on his. "Don't worry," she says earnestly. "Things will get better. Mommy will come back."
"I know," he says. Her hand is small and rounded; she still has baby fat.
There is an inhuman corpse lying in the corner, its limbs twisted at grotesque angles. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly. When he opens them again, the corner is empty. Decay lingers in the air.
Nina reaches for his pocket watch. "It's very pretty," she says solemnly.
"It is," he replies hoarsely.
Her tiny fingers trace the silver. "What does this say?" She points to the inscription on it.
He doesn't even look down at it. "Sewing Life Alchemist," he says.
"That's you, right?"
"Yes."
"Your job is important, right?"
"That's right."
"What do you do?"
The question feels like a punch to the stomach. "I…" he trails off. I make Chimeras.
"Do you sew?"
Here is something, at least, that he can answer. "No, I don't."
"Then what do you do?"
He picks the ring up off of the desk and holds it loosely between his fingers. He stares at it for a moment before coming to a decision.
"Do you want it?" he asks.
She looks from him to the ring. "A reminder of your mother," he clarifies. Her face brightens as she nods vigorously.
"Okay, then, here you go." He makes himself smile.
"Really?"
"Uh-huh. It's yours now."
He gives the ring to her. She cups her hands together and holds it as if it's made of glass.
"Thank you! I love you, Daddy!"
"I love you too." Impulsively, he grabs her and pulls her up into a hug. She is stiff for a moment in surprise, then she clings to him tightly. When he lets her go, she climbs on top of Alexander.
"Let's go, Alexander! To the backyard!" She digs her heels into his sides and the large dog obediently trots out of the room.
He sighs and puts his head in his arms. For just a few minutes, the numbness had retreated, chased away by the light of his daughter's smile. Now, he is all alone again, and the darkness rises up, bringing with it the foul stench of death.
"I want to die."
The words seem to echo in the air.
He slowly gets up, making the long walk to the basement yet again. He knows what he's going to find there, but he can't help but hope.
Nothing has changed. He stares down at the still carcass lying on the floor. Despair weighs down his heart.
"Sewing Life, huh?" The words taste like ash in his mouth.
A picture of his Nina flashes before his eyes.
