Written for fma_fic_contest on livejournal.

Prompt # 63: Weakness

Title: Deadened Eyes

Summary: Beasts claw at his insides. They- he –weren't strong enough.

Word Count: 489

Rating: T for language/intense subjects

Mangaverse, if only because their training with Izumi seemed more intense in the manga.


His fingers couldn't even fucking work right. His nails scraped against his already bruised skin as he worked at the knots tying the sharpened rock to the spear. But his hands were shaking too much.

The fires they made were useless, without something to cook over them.

The knife Izumi had given them was stuck in the sand next to him. Al was sleeping in their makeshift shelter. They took turns taking watch, keeping an eye out for whatever the hell was stalking them.

Al's cuffs were rolled all the way up, but they still sagged. His brother's ribs stuck out at sharp angles, like the arrowheads they carved. Al's cheeks were hollowed now, a skull with gold hair and impossibly wide eyes.

He knew his own face and body were no different. Beasts claw at his insides. They- he –wasn't strong enough.

He couldn't save his mom. His brother lay beside him, wasting away as the moments passed. His own hunger threatened to make him collapse, while bruises and broken bones from the thing that attacked them throbbed. The stupid fucking alchemy that his mom had loved and that could save her didn't help him now. The books that man had left behind were of no help to him, no matter how much he ran through the paragraphs in his memories.

The stick of the spear splintered under his nails as he attempted to get a better grip. But the rope continued to fray, ends peeling as the sharpened rock slipped from his stupid trembling fingers.

The sand was a constant grit in his teeth. He spat, the pitiful expulsion of air crippling him even more. He needed his nonexistent energy. For Al. For the family they had waiting, and would have again. He crawled along the sand, the fire casting long shadows that made it seem as if winking eyes peered at him from the trees or the water. There was no moon tonight, and no mother to calm him even as he protested that he wasn't afraid of the dark, and he couldn't wake his brother because Al needed to sleep.

His own eyelids drooped closed at the thought. Winry talked about all the things she read in her medical books- what she had left of her mom and dad- things like how tiredness could make you crazy, how going without sleep for so long could actually kill you. She'd thought that he'd ignored such comments, but he listened to everything she said. Her and Al and his mom and his dad, he'd listened-

But here he was. Dying, weak, and afraid. He couldn't find the fucking rock and his stupid hands would keep trembling and fail, just as they'd failed to save him mom.

In the dark, his fingers brushed against the cold and sharpened stone. He grabbed it, pulling it close, finding the frayed rope again.

The rock slipped from his fingers once more.