Disclaimer: FMA not mine. Emily mine. That is all.
A/N: I heard that in Japanese hotels there are doors on one side of corridor leading to the hotel rooms, and the other side of the corridor was either a blank wall or window to outside. Since FMA was made in Japan I decided to follow the Japanese concept of hotels rathe than the Western 'doors on both sides' concept. That's why Emily's hotel is at it is...
Alphonse and Emily were laughing loudly as they walked along the street towards the hotel where she was staying.
"Do you want to come in?" She asked him, picking at the sticky candyfloss. Al's own hands were covered in the pink fluff. He knew that Winry was going to kill him and the rest of the night would be spent picking the nuisance fluff off...he wondered briefly if it would be a nice nuisance, serving as a memory-trigger for the evening they had spent together.
"I'd better go back…" he trailed off. He saw the disappointment in her face and then shrugged, his voice filled with amusement. "Unless there's coffee on offer…?" He couldn't drink coffee but he didn't know what else to suggest.
The light in her face beamed again and she nodded, "Sure, I can order some through room service!"
Al followed her through the foyer, ignoring the suspicious gazes of the night staff, and trailed behind her down the white corridor, the windows on the one side looking out at the hotels elaborate garden. Emily inserted the key into her door and flicked the lights on as she walked in. The room, Alphonse noticed, was not much different from the one Edward and he had in the other hotels. It must be military standard. He did notice a slight difference – Emily's room was a lot tidier than theirs. 'Girls much be neater than boys…'
Emily dialled for coffee on her phone connection as Al slowly looked around the room, trying not to look as though he was being nosy. He spotted a framed picture on the table of a young girl and boy, arm in arm and smiling brightly at the camera. He leaned forward slightly to look at it more clearly and realized with a shock that the girl with short black hair was Emily. The boy had short brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. They were both tanned, making the photo seem like a holiday snap.
"That's me and Greg."
He jumped and swirled around, "Oh, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to be nosy!"
Emily shook her head and stepped up to him. Her arms were folded lightly as she looked down at the photo, sadness etched into her face. "I've no idea why I brought it with me. Maybe I thought I'd be lonely."
"Is he your brother?" Al ventured even though he couldn't see any similarities between them.
"No, my boyfriend." She sighed. Al suddenly felt cold as the shock swept through him. A boyfriend? She had a boyfriend?
She continued, "Or, rather, ex-boyfriend. I don't know…" she scratched her head in confusion and swallowed thickly to keep her emotions under control. "I can't really claim to be a widow, can I? So what do I call our relationship?" She laughed meekly. The doorbell rang and she said brightly, "Ah, the coffee is here." She moved towards the door.
Al's head was reeling. A boyfriend? Ex? Widow? Does that mean her boyfriend…'
He watched as she put the coffee on another small table and poured milk and sugar into the two steaming cups.
'…died?'
There was a burning curiosity in Al and he wanted desperately to ask more, to find out the whole tale. Politeness stopped him, as well as the feeling that he didn't want to make her recall any painful memories. When she had looked at the photo and said that he was her boyfriend she had already looked pained enough.
Despite his resistance on approaching the subject, it was Emily who continued. She nursed the coffee and sat on her bed. "We had been going out for two years-"
"Emily!" He interrupted, causing her to look up at him in astonishment. "You…don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He sat down next to her and placed his hand on top of hers.
She smiled sweetly and sadly. "I want to." She took a deep breath and he listened in silence. "Everyone was expecting us to get married. Two years is a long time to date…especially in the military. But Greg always said that we didn't have to rush, that we had all the time in the world to get married, have kids and grow old together. He was very sentimental and romantic like that…
"I liked the idea of it though. To me, Greg was the only family I had. My parents died shortly after I joined the military – they had been ill for a long time and I joined the military in order to get enough money to send them to a good hospital. After they died I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. After all, I joined the military for them and I saw it as the only way to get money fast. I threw myself into work because I had basically nothing else to live for. I admit, I went through depression for a while and I even wanted to die in honour in service…" she shook her head quickly to dispel the evil demons forming in her mind, "Anyway, I rose through the ranks quickly and met Greg. He helped me through the depression and life was finally looking up. But…" she trailed off and looked down at the floor as she continued in a quiet voice.
"He went out on patrol one time and never came back. They found the patrol car as well as all of his possessions – his uniform, weapons, identification, everything – all covered in blood. The forensics found that it was his blood as well…" her face was ashen and she swallowed thickly again. Al squeezed her hand in an attempt to comfort her. "The worst death of all is the ones where you don't have the body. If you have the body it's still sad but at least you know where they are. They know that they are safe, in a way. But if you don't have the body you don't know where they are. You don't know what happened to them. It's like they're still a missing person and you can't fully grieve until you see with your own eyes that they are, really, dead."
There was a moment of silence before she went on, "That was a year ago. I nearly fell into depression again but I soon realized that if there was any way Greg was alive – any way at all – then I would have to stay in the military to know for sure. Since I'm not legally tied to him it's most likely that if I left the military they would never contact me on finding him. And so I stayed. But after a year…he won't come back. I know he won't. I can tell." She closed her eyes and a quiet crystal tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm trying to move on now. I have to live my life again rather than let it run on false hopes, always grieving and being alone."
"I'll be here." Alphonse suddenly said, causing her to open her eyes and look at him. The whites of his eyes burned brilliantly in his silver helmet, his voice strong and firm. "I'll always be here for you, Emily. You don't have to be alone. You aren't alone!"
"Thank you, Alphonse." She smiled at him and leaned her head against the cold metal body. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her body jerk as she cried softly; the tears running smoothly down the shining surface of the amour.
