by Melissa the Sheep
For fma500 challenge #3, "heretic." (And here I was thinking that writing about Scar's brother was too obvious.)
Summary: He felt cowardly for not leaving, and cruel for wanting to go.
Characters/pairings: Scar's brother and his lover
Spoilers: Episode 40
Date: March 24-25, 2005
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa-sensei, Square Enix, Funimation, Studio Bones, etc.
Feedback: melissa at hippiegoth dot org
Archive: List/community archives and by submission. Otherwise, ask.
She had always loved him, selflessly, patiently, faithfully.
She had waited here for him when he went away to Amestris, and loved him still when he came back, bringing with him trunks full of books in a language nobody else knew how to read. When nobody else would speak to him on the street, wary of his glasses and his strange clothing, and more wary yet because he never went to the temple any more, she still stood by his side. She never asked about the circles that some of those books diagrammed, although he knew she had looked sometimes.
At night, he sometimes sighed, spoke longingly of East City, and said that people there understood and respected his studies. She would curl closer against his body and wouldn't say anything in reply.
He asked her once if she would go with him, back to Amestris. She was silent for a long moment.
No, she said finally. She belonged here. To leave behind the sand dunes, the sun, the harsh beauty of this desert--it would break her heart.
And to be parted from him? he asked.
That, too, would break her heart.
And so he stayed. For her sake, he told himself, and for his younger brother's sake. He felt cowardly for not leaving, and cruel for wanting to go. Cruel for leading her on, for not letting her go right now, for not making his choice. Each day he asked himself what kind of man would live like that.
When she died with his name on her lips, when he heard his own voice suddenly choking out those broken sobs--then he knew what kind of man he was. He was a coward, but not for staying here. He was cruel, but not for making her wait for his decision.
It was fear that had kept him from seeing how much she had mattered to him, from seeing that she was far more important to him than his dreams of Amestris. And it had been nothing but cruelty to ignore such love as hers.
For days he did not sleep or eat. He studied his books feverishly, and considered all that he would risk. If he did this thing, he could lose everything. He could be maimed in the transmutation, or killed. And if he lived, he would certainly be branded a heretic and driven away. His brother would be left alone. He could never return to Ishbal.
He convinced himself that none of that mattered. His life felt hollow now, worthless without her, and dying would mean little to him. His brother was a young man now, old enough to get by alone. And Ishbal no longer held a place in his heart.
All he wanted was to have her back. To hold her close in his arms. To ask her to forgive his cowardice, his cruelty, his foolishness. To love her this time as much as she had always loved him.
In the cool darkness of the house, he stood by the carefully drawn array. He murmured a prayer to the god he had half forgotten, begging Ishballa to forgive him this sin. Begging her to understand how he needed to do this.
He knelt down and reached to touch the circle.
END