Red Footsteps
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything except for the dream of wishing I did.
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He could still see the blood smears sometimes.
On his hands, in the mirror's reflection. They followed him, red silhouettes trailing as he walked. He dreamed it always, a dark abyss of fear that coiled tight around his stomach climbing up into his throat until he couldn't breathe, his mind frozen with endless thoughts. Then it was gone, all gone to be replaced by endless white and a figure with a beckoning finger. Always the same stupid mistake, yes. The arrogance, he disgusted himself sometimes, to think he had the power, to think he could.
But he had. He did. And so he was facing the consequences now.
It was a never ending fear, a long slithering snake that wound itself around him choking any thought off of his mind. But he'd bear it, he had to. It was his fault after all.
So whenever Ed felt that he just couldn't go any longer he'd remind himself, that it was his fault, he must fix it. And he did, he endured all he hadn't ever thought of possible, and brought Al's body back. But those mistakes still followed him, always haunted by what-ifs. And everywhere he went he could see, looking behind him, the path he'd raked for himself. Red footsteps trailing behind him, telling the story of one foolish arrogant boy.