"Hughey?" This very worried mother placed a light hand to her son's door. As with the rest of the days
in the week, no stirring was heard, nor did a voice answer her's.
Winry's disappointment deepened as she drew backwards. She withdrew towards the room her
husband resided in. Perhaps he would have an idea on how to coax their guilty son from his room.
"Ed-"
"I'm not talking about it." His tired honey eyes traced over towards her.
"In case you were going to ask." He felt the need to add.
It had been only two days past the event in which Henrietta's life had been at risk. There was already
an identifiable lack of noise in the Elric home, especially from the son. His room had become his prison
where he locked himself into. Not a sound was heard from Hughes, and no matter the amount of talking
Winry tried, she could not get her son out of his room. Neither could she get her husband to speak with
the child.
Hughey blamed himself, and Winry was starting believe his father did too.
The mother sighed slightly at Ed's blunt words. She took a place next to him on the couch to perhaps
gain a better, more equal position to talk from.
"He's not going to come out on his own, you know. He already blames himself, and you not talking to
him about it is only making him believe it more. Ed.." Winry trailed off as her husband closed his eyes.
"I... Don't want to blame him, but I do. We've always told him, "Just look out for your sister" Why
couldn't he at least listen to that?" Edward leaned forward to the edge of the couch. He held his head
as it tilted towards the ground in silent worry.
While Henrietta had escaped the immediate danger of drowning, the cold water of the rapids had
chilled the girl to the very bone. She had not waken from the state of unconsciousness she had been in,
yet her heart still pumped the life-giving red throughout her body. Doctors had been by to determine
just the illness, but it was some sort of problem Ed could not remember. All he knew was that the
doctors could not be sure just when she would wake up. Would she ever wake up? How many more
days did her father need to wait and see if she would live as she had?
The girl now slept in her dark and lifeless room that had been painted pink many years ago. Oddly
enough, whenever Edward stepped in that room and saw the color, he could only feel a sense of grief.
Perhaps he had given up before the ordeal had even started.
The boy sitting against his room door as he always did could hear every disappointed word spoken by
his idolized father. Perhaps the very thought of Edward not trusting his son should have crushed
Hughey, but for some reason, no feeling was present. A cold numbness had overtaken his body in the
time his sister was declared comatose. All words and feelings simply bounced off of him and into the air
as if they had never really existed.
Hughes pulled his knees towards his body as he clutched his thin appendage.
Wow, Hughey! You're so strong, you could probably push dad's bookcase back upright!
"Stop it." The boy replied out loud to the girl's voice in his head. The memories of a sister who admired
her older brother so much were being played so loudly he could barely hear anything else.
Will you let me play with you next time, Hughey? Please? I'll try to keep up.
"Please, stop..!" The words could not be drowned out by anything but his fast beating heart. Hughey
stood from his position as he approached his desk. He leaned against the faded wood for any support it
could offer.
"I already feel guilty enough without you yelling in my head! Shut the hell up!" The books lining the
table were shoved to the ground by an angry and frenzied hand. They scattered all across his room
while some even hit the nearby wall.
Hughey fell to the ground as the tears finally came spilling from his blue eyes. They blurred his vision of
his surroundings as his pounding headache fogged his mind of any thoughts but the voices.
Defeated, the boy stared down to the pile of books somehow ending up opened.
Blue eyes widened as tears cleared from his eyes. Hughes dove himself towards words he could never
think to be written in a book. When his fingers finally did wrap around the text, the blurriness in his
eyes and the headache in his mind disappeared. Hughes read slowly from the circled pattern as though
the life-saving words would fly away if he didn't.
The peacock's feathers in bright colors, the rainbow in the sky above,
The spotted panther, the green lion, the crow and beak, blue as lead,
These shall appear before you in perfect white,
Pale white and black with false citrine, imperfect white and red,
After the perfect white follows the grey,
And after these shall appear the substance
The poem-like phrase was written above what he could only define as a god send. Hughes read the
words slowly and silently like a treasure.
The very thing to save Henrietta
"Human Transmutation."
