RenofAmestris_ Thank you for the review and story alert. And I know, there are not enough fics with these two, as there should be. :]
I woke up from a dead sleep. I was having the reoccurring dream again. I tired over and over to talk myself past the night mare. It never worked. I had it night after night. I have never felt so alone after I woke up from it.
I started having this dream after I first met Scar, after I learned the truth and saw the face of the man that killed my beloved parents, the ones that tried to help him, and the ones that saved his life.
I felt water drip down my face. I felt my forehead and felt a damp cloth on it, light in weight and still dripping on the ends. I took the cloth in my hands and looked at it.
"You were sweating and whimpering in your sleep, I thought it would help you out a bit," a deep voice told me, very calmly.
It was Scar; he was sitting up, propped against the wall behind me. When I turned to look at him I saw that his eyes were more glossed and clouded over than usual, he masked his feelings well, but I lived with Edward, I've had practice reading the feelings behind the wall.
"Thank you," I told him, it wasn't anymore than a whisper. I looked back down at the cloth in my hands and again I felt the feeling that we were becoming close to friends.
I knew that the feeling wasn't really bad, but part of me didn't want to forgive him still. He was a murder. He tried to kill Edward; he killed my parents, and other state alchemists and a few rare people that have gotten in the way of his destructive path. I tried to tell myself that I would never forgive him, but I knew that I have already had. Now I just had to get past the feeling I had towards him, and try to stop his mad man ways and save a few lives from his strange way of thinking.
"You were calling out for you father," He told me. I didn't look up but I heard the reluctance in his voice. "Would it be too much to ask for you to tell me about him?" the question caught me off guard, I looked up to search his face for anything more, and anything he might not be saying. There was nothing, and again I thought of how well he hid what he really wanted to know, what he really felt, and what he was seeing though his own dark red eyes.
I swallowed, my mouth was dry and tears were still in my eyes from the night. I looked up from the cloth finally, looking back at him. He stared back, unfazed.
"He was a great man; he taught me the beginning of what I know of automail. He taught my mother the medical care she knew. He would fight for what was right no matter what, as you can probably tell by how he helped your people. I think he and my mother wanted to go to Ishbal, no matter what, they took pride in their work. Saving lives and putting smiles on people's faces." I paused, thinking about what I was saying, and every word I spoke I became more and more engulfed in my world of before they were killed, before my world was turned upside down.
For the rest of the night, we slept in the underground tunnel. I told him about my father, mother, my relationship with Edward and Alphonse. I told him about my teachings with automail, and what I wanted to do with my life. In return he talked to me about his brother, but that's all he could seem to talk about.
At that moment I knew we took a step forward. I fell asleep to a story about the girl he had fallen in love with, the girl with deep chocolate black hair and piercing red eyes. But I got a sense of regret, like he wasn't talking to me.