Many thanks for last chapter's reviews. It was a quicker update than usual, wouldn't you say? Don't know about the next one though. This chapter is a little down. Well, a little dramatic. But isn't this a romance drama fiction after all? Be ready for a bit of OOCness, but not too much I hope.
I chose you
Chapter 28 - Broken resolve
Defective. Infertile.
They made me wrong.
He walked up to the kitchen, finding it hard not to drag his feet. A single word shouldn't affect him that much, but the wrath wasn't after the right things. He was angry at himself. Angry at Gold tooth. Angry to feel suddenly inadequate for something that should never have mattered. But he could tell that it mattered to her.
"Ame…"
"I've got an errand to run." She cut him off, already opening the door. "You're off to work, aren't you?"
He blinked, taken aback. Was she really leaving now?
"I…"
"You're still half asleep, aren't you? You got home so late yesterday. Eat and grab some rest. I'll be back in an hour."
The door locked behind her and King wondered if he could go work in his current state of mind. But that would mean running from her. Postponing again. And he was afraid waiting would make it worst. He swallowed down some bacon and phoned Grumman. It took time to reach his friend and he wouldn't explain his absence to anyone else. He wasn't exactly planning on explaining himself anyway.
"I need the day off."
"King, we're up to our…"
"I'm not asking. There's… Put Butcher in charge. Put Baron in charge if you need to."
"Is everything alright with you, man?"
"I don't know." was his honest answer.
Grumman seemed ready to insist, but he hang up. He was furious now. He didn't want to confide to his friend. Not now. Surely never. Not about this. He finished breakfast and started pacing around the room. The clock ticked every minute slowly. His thoughts were reminding him of every occasion Amelia had talked about starting a family. He tried to count them. Less than ten but more than five. He started analyzing his memories, hoping he remembered something in her eyes, in her face that could tell him she didn't care that much about the possibility. But he remembered how she'd looked after Eli's daughter. How she cared for Roy. The fact even Juliett could tell she was good with kids.
They made me wrong.
The thought hurt, but it was going on and on in his head. Monster. Half human. 12. Defect. He went back to their room. Flattened the paper and reread it, as if his mind had played tricks on him. But the word was still there. Almost compatible, but not efficient. Almost human, but one of his eyes showing the truth beneath the mask. The monster inside. He needed to stop thinking, to stop torturing himself.
When Amelia walked back in their apartment, he was sharpening one of his blades.
"Hello there. Still home?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Took a day." He replied.
He sheathed the sword and found his wife looking at him with puzzled eyes.
"We need to talk." He heard himself say.
It sounded wrong. He didn't read romance novels or went to bad theatres, but he could tell that it sounded bad.
"Okay."
She walked up to him and he flinched away, trying to hide it by heading to the living room, keeping his distances from her. He was afraid he'd lose all countenance if she touched him.
"You'd better sit down." He warned her, keeping his voice even.
"Good lord, King. Is something wrong?"
Me.
He held it in. His green eye was dark and she sat down on their couch, right in front of him, apprehensively staring at him. He stood behind his favorite chair, looking for the right words. Those that hurt less. Or maybe just a way to start. He was scared for many different reasons. The main one was the fact she might decide to finally give up on him.
"You remember the letter I had from Central?"
She frowned.
"The one that wasn't important?"
He closed his eyes, feeling the underlying fear in her voice.
"Amelia…"
"Are you sick?"
He blinked and shook his head. She forgot to breathe an instant, before to ask for the next most obvious question in her mind.
"What's wrong then? Are you… you're not dying, are you?"
He grabbed the chair's back, his shoulders sagging.
"No. No, but I'm… broken."
Her eyes widened, filled with worries and questions. He tried to keep his breathing calm. To focus on her face, not on the words in his head. Not on his irrational fears.
"Brad…"
"They said I'm infertile."
Amelia jumped slightly. His voice had turned darker than his eye.
"That's…"
"They can't tell if I was before the stone or not."
"You're not broken. You're…"
She was at a loss of word; he could tell she had trouble adjusting to the idea. She had never questioned, never wondered… Himself hadn't thought he could have been changed this much, but the stone had been trying to destroy him after all.
"I can't give you a family, Melia. The only damn thing you dare to ask of me, I can't…"
His voice broke a little and he gripped the chair's back harder between his fingers.
"You think I care about…?"
"Take time to let it sink in before to say things that aren't true. You want kids. At least one. Any moron could give you one and…"
He was so angry, he couldn't hold everything in. His hands tore through the green fabric. His shoulders heaved slightly. He wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to get rid of this terrible idea she was going to turn her back on him for something so petty. He had never promised a family when he'd asked for her hand. But he hadn't thought then… hadn't doubt he could offer if he ever felt ludicrous enough to indulge her.
"I don't want anyone's…"
He couldn't listen to her voice trying to comfort him.
"I know that! I know and I'll fail you because they made me wrong. Or they broke something with their damn stone and…"
His throat felt too tight. He hadn't lost her before but surely now. Wasn't that the ultimate test? Wasn't that a good reason for divorce? He was flawed merchandise. Defective. She got up, her cheeks bright red from anger. Angry Amelia he could face. But she wasn't angry at the news he was giving. Angrier at the way he was taking it. At the evident distrust he must feel for her to think she'd walk away on him for something he didn't control. And since it hurt, she tried to hurt him back.
"Shouldn't you be happy, Brad? You didn't want kids in the first place and now you got the perfect excuse."
She regretted the words as soon as they were out but it was too late. The fragile mask he was wearing crumbled.
"What?!"
His face was distorted by rage, but after the initial outburst, his features softened. Pain took over the anger. He looked younger, almost lost. And she heard the words ringing in her mind, like an apology that no one should ever bear. They made me wrong.
"You… I wanted to make you happy." He told her. "I'd agreed eventually. Now I don't… There's not even a choice left to make."
He was fighting against the pain, the fears. He was taking this a lot more seriously than she'd expected him. And she felt like crying, because she'd had to bury another dream, but she couldn't cry now. Not when he looked ready to crack.
"You're not broken." She told him, almost fiercely, walking up to him, reaching out for him.
King wanted to collect his thoughts and shatter every last one of them. He wanted to control the shaking in his limbs, the awful need to collapse. A comforting Amelia meant he could cry and he shouldn't be crying. She was the victim here. He was just some damaged tool. A puppet without rights. They'd broken his past, controlled his present and doomed his future. Hadn't he paid enough already? No mother, no love, no care, all this sweat and blood and now…
"Defective." He supplied her.
"You're perfect, King."
The sob almost got out of his throat and he covered his eyepatch with his hand, feeling his scarred eye throbbing madly.
"Be angry at me. Get mad, but don't…"
It had always been his only answer at everything they threw at him. It was his homunculus name. It was the only thing keeping him upright.
"This isn't your fault." Amelia whispered.
"Please, just be angry."
He saw the tears on her cheeks. The loss in her eyes. The quiver in her lips that tried to smile at him with that tenderness he didn't owe. Her arms were open and he backed away, knowing her touch would be enough to shatter him. She backed him against the wall, removing the hand that hid the eyepatch, removing the patch itself and raising herself to her toes.
"This wasn't and will never be your fault, Brad."
Her hands cupped his face. He forgot himself, leaning in for a hug, letting her kiss him. Her tears tasted salty. He was hurting her again, just by being what he was. She felt warm, warm and the sobs took over as the words kept running in his head. He was made wrong. He was made so, so wrong.
"I'm… sorry."
"I'm sorry too, King. But it's not… our fault."
He held her back, at first meaning to push her gentle hands away, meaning to break free of her embrace, to regain control, to stay the cold, strong King. But instead he held her to him and let the pain take over. He wanted to howl, he wanted to hide. His face found her neck, her hair. She leaned on him and he realized she could crumble too. Seeing him like this. Absorbing the reality of this news. She sobbed with him, her words not coherent anymore. They slid against the wall and remained entangled in each other, desperate for comfort. When the worst was over, at least so he thought, King dared to push himself up, to look into her eyes. What he saw hurt and healed all at the same time.
"I love you for you, Brad."
He remembered the question he had asked her once. What was there to love? It had never felt more accurate. But even with her red and puffy eyes, even with her running nose, she was beautiful and she was clinging to him. She covered his tattooed eye with her fingers. Covered the human one too. Gave him a peck on the mouth. Clumsily kissed both eyelids. He thought he knew what she was trying to do. Distract him. Remind him they had faced worse. But he was so open, it hurt just to be with her. He shivered as she sighed against his neck.
"Make love to me." She pleaded.
That hit too close to home, he almost gasped as thought the pain was physical.
"No. No, no, no, no, not now."
He wanted to cry again.
"But I still want you." She retorted. "Fertile or not."
The tears fell down once more, from both his eyes, and she apologized until he was apologizing too. This time, they waited longer and remained silent when their tears dried, Amelia was afraid she had gone too far. King felt broken. And she wanted to mend him now, because she needed him whole and strong to stand strong herself.
"I won't leave you." She whispered against his chest.
He hated himself for being scared. Hated her for reading him like an open book. He had to get over this. He had gotten over being bitten by rabid men, burned, destructed and reconstructed, being slashed and trashed and beaten, over seeing her bloody, losing one of his only friends and facing things like Pride. What was some potential birth defect next to that? But the shakings were threatening to take over him, because he was vulnerable in her arms, more than he'd ever felt.
"I wouldn't blame you. But if you stay, I can make it worth your time." He tried to sound confident despite his raw throat that turned his voice weaker.
He felt too open still, but he had to hold out until the first shock died down. He had to prove her he was still a man even if he cried and even if he couldn't give her the children she'd wanted. So when she stroked his hair, he stole her lips for a kiss without restraint. He held her with trembling arms. Kissed her senseless, because his feelings didn't make sense anymore.
How could he want to corrupt an innocent live after what had been done to him? How could he want to be a father when he had no idea what it meant? He'd never thought of it. He was made to be a ruler. But a father could rule too. Although they protected and he was a killer, pretending to protect only to raise through the ranks. Pretended for everyone but for her. He had failed his friends. He could give her pleasure and bliss, but he couldn't… Create life. What alchemy desperately tried to emulate and humans could without an afterthought. It felt like a drag down. As if he wasn't any better than the other homunculi, or than father. What should have made him different made him less. And although he hadn't managed to think about all that already, it nurtured the pain, deep inside.
He felt raw when he gathered her in his arms. Raw like a new-born when she kissed his jaw and neck and went soft beneath his hands.
The lump in his throat was swallowed and felt like a stone in his stomach. The shakings were shared and suddenly good and back to feeling wrong. She cried against his chest when she realized how lost he was. She covered the oroborous eye an instant. Pulled on his hair to have him kissing her again. Tried being sweet and hard all in turns. Her nails dug marks in his skin, to bring him back to himself, to them. She was warm glass against his skin. He was afraid she could break if he held too tight or pushed too hard. And that was only because he was still so close to breaking himself.
After love, she snuggled close to him, listening to his breathing that finally calmed down. She kissed the hand holding her, one rough knuckle at a time. Suggested dinner.
"I'd rather stay like this." He admitted, holding her closer.
She agreed with a cute whine and he was smiling once more. The tests sheets had been shoved beneath the bed and he was slowly realizing that he could stop turning those words around in his head. The words didn't define him. The words couldn't reach him as long as she backed him up like she did.
"How long has it been since we got married?" he asked her after a few minutes.
"Seven… maybe eight months?"
Not even a year and she was still there, despite the many mistakes he'd already done. She tried counting on her fingers but he tickled her before she could reach an assured answer.
"King! We can't spend all day in bed."
"Is that a challenge?" he retorted, almost sounding playful.
The following weeks weren't easier than the others. Bradley simply tried not to think too much about his newly discovered handicap and Amelia made sure not to give any fuel to that fire. But some night, if he showed up unannounced, he might find her lost in deep thoughts. He never asked what was on her mind. He had reacted so strongly when he gave her the news the first time, he was afraid of going back there.
The conflicts were slowly getting under control. People got killed left and right. Butcher was hurt and Baron was captured by enraged civils. Grumman gave harsher orders, but King knew things could get even more out of hands. So he grabbed Eli and convinced him that they had done enough damage control. Under the cover of the night, King Bradley attacked a rebel camp, threatening their chief before dawn, while an alchemist recruited in secrecy was creating the new rails. By next morning, the rail road was far enough from the city to convince rebels that their efforts had been in vain. Baron was safely given back in exchange for the rebel's commander. And while the rail road kept being developed, going further east, Grumman and Bradley worked like madmen to restore the city to what it used to be.
Over the weeks, both men had taken a habit of sharing a drink after a long, tedious day of work. King emptied his second glass, welcoming the numb sensation in his sore limbs when Grumman asked him:
"How is everything going with your wife, Brad? Haven't heard from her in a while. No King junior in the making yet?"
King choked on the beer, which only got Eli laughing, until he saw the seriousness in the younger soldier's eyes.
"Did I say something wrong? You know, it's…"
Bradley could have lied but Grumman was a trusted friend. Maybe the only one he still had and the guy had confided in him over many things before. And maybe telling the news to someone else without breaking down like last time would mean he was finally over it.
"There won't be any junior." He interrupted him. "We… I can't… Birth defect or something."
Eli's blue eyes widened at first and his mouth hung open an instant.
"Oh… That's… that's rough. How long have you…?"
"Learned it a few months ago."
Grumman seemed deep in thought before to clap his hand over the table.
"Damn, that was your reason for the day off?"
He looked ready to scold him and King threw him a dark look.
"I'd rather this stay between us, okay? I don't want sympathy or…"
"You'll get no sympathy from me, man. Still happily married after that, and to a beauty like Amelia?! Ha! As if I'd pity you! You don't have piles of files waiting for you at home!"
Bradley was grateful, although he'd never say it. They resumed drinking and making fun of recruits and civilians alike. Eli warned him as they walked out the bar that Central seemed ready to fall back to chaos.
"They'll call you back before you know it, I swear. The search for alchemists has never been this intense."
King wondered if it could be put back under control. Alchemists had always been given free reigns in their society as long as they didn't cause trouble. But now the society feared them and to reverse it…
His walk back home was filled with reflections and he had a plan half cooked up as he reached his door. Amelia's guards gave him a salute before to get back to their home while he walked up the stairs. It was almost midnight and the apartment was dark as he entered. He eyed the shadows warily and silently reached the bedroom. His wife was lying in their bed, her brown hair covering the pillows, arms extended on either side, the covers kicked at her feet, entirely surrendered to sleep. The picture warmed his heart and he swiftly switched clothes for light pajamas so he could join her. Since she took all the space, he carefully climbed on the mattress, positioning himself above her, stroking her waist and ribcage with one hand as he leaned down to kiss her neck. Her night robe was light, the straps barely hanging to her shoulders and had moved up her legs. She shivered from the feel of his beard against her skin but didn't give any sign of waking up.
He almost wished she did wake up, but gently snuggled next to her and resigned himself to sleep. Until her peaceful slumber turned to a nightmare that had been hunting her recently. An elbow in his ribs and he was looking up in alarm, Amelia tossing and whimpering in her sleep.
"Give him back. Dad!"
King gently shook her awake, hating the guilty feeling in his guts. Her eyes opened, quickly flooding with tears.
"You're home?" she asked once the tears subdued and most of her fear was gone.
"I'm home." He acknowledged, half a smile growing on his face.
"Are you okay? You didn't get hurt? I mean you're all there, you're alive?"
The nightmares had started a few weeks ago. Bradley knew he wasn't always there to hold her through the worse nights and resented his job for it. But somehow, he was comforted to see her getting as fragile as he had been. Knowing he could hold her together and ground her. She made him human, not wrong.
"I'm all there." He told her.
She stubbornly pulled off his clothes, needing to verify firsthand and he obliged her, despite his fatigue. She rarely showed how scared she was to lose him and although he despised the fact she judged him potentially weak, he knew it was only fair. He was still an overbearing oaf every now and then. He didn't get any sleep that night.
In the morning, the official news came. He was called back to Central. They would be moving in a week. Amelia was shocked and said there was too little time. King simply wondered how bad the situation could be, since Envy had been the messenger, daring to knock at his apartment door. His homunculi brothers and sister had laid low lately. He decided it was time to keep his promise and get to the practical part of Amelia's training. It might even reduce the frequency of her nightmares.
…
"Like this?"
She repeated the defense motion he was trying to teach her, her arms not raised enough. He adjusted her pause, drawing on all the patience he could muster. He was a lot nicer to her than to recruits and she wasn't exactly as painfully slow to learn as some soldiers he'd trained. But she had a lot of catching up to do.
"This will really work to push away an attack?"
"Maybe what you need is practical work."
Without further warning, he lunged for her. She gasped but managed to evade him.
"You weren't serious, were you?"
"I can't really go serious on you," he countered matter-of-factly.
Wrong choice of words. Her eyes hardening was his only warning. Amelia grabbed his wrist and tried an arm-lock he'd taught her before. He hadn't been prepared at all. He let his old training kick in, making sure to calculate every move. Escaping her hold first, twisting himself around to sweep the air beneath her legs and get her to fall on her back.
"That's dirty." She whispered, catching back her breath.
"When you defend yourself, there's no dirty trick." He told her, giving her time to recuperate.
Amelia got back on her feet after rolling on the kitchen floor, putting distance between them. She looked quite into this now. After a little while of staring at each other, he charged her, quick for a human but not for him. She deflected his fist with the protective move and rushed in the space between his arms, puzzling him at first. There was no way she could… A kick in his nether regions took away his voice, leaving him breathless, and shocked, the pain ringing up to his ears. He hadn't been hit like that since his potential furher school's days. But it got the effect Amelia was aiming for. His next attack wasn't reflected at all. And he didn't hold back, spinning her around, gripping both of her arms and pinning her to the nearest wall. Her head hit the wood a little stronger than intended and her moan of pain was enough to get him back to reality. Had she just tried to get him to fight her at his full strength?
"I'm sorry…" she sighed against the wall.
"I guess… you're learning." He rasped. His voice was weaker than usual and his breath wasn't entirely back.
"Now, do we stay like this, or do you teach me how to get out of this kind of lock?"
"You already know. And I'd rather keep… my balls intact."
"There must another way…"
She struggled and wriggled in his hold. Pushed against the wall with one leg, to get him unbalanced, but he held his ground.
"Do you want to hurt me that bad, Melia?"
"No… Maybe a little before but… You're so stronger than I could ever be." She angrily snapped.
She managed to use both her legs to push against the wall, although her arms must felt as if they were breaking at this point and he let go of her, sending them both tumbling to the floor. She ended up sitting on him, and hesitated an instant before to straddle his hips and grab a hold of his arms, pushing them on either side of his head. She was looking for her breath and an instant, he thought the training was over. That she'd just kiss him an apology for her dirty trick and that their second training session could end up in the bedroom. But she surprised him again.
"How do you free yourself now, Brad?" she asked him playfully.
He smirked, rolling his shoulders beneath her weight. He just had to free his hands and…
"I'm still stronger than y…"
Her face fell and he wondered if she was hurt.
"You don't have to rub it in," she sighed. "And I'm pretty sure that if I knock the wind out of you, I could keep you down longer."
"This is not a competition. You wanted me to train you. If I go easy on you and you get hurt out there taking an opponent that's too much…"
She sat more firmly on his stomach, trying to force her weight on him. When he squirmed his legs, she raised herself and pushed her knee in his solar plexus, effectively freezing him in place. He wasn't sure what she expected, or why she looked so serious, until she admitted what was on her mind:
"Don't look down on me, King. We're both human. I might need to play dirty, but I must be able to defeat you, even if you get half serious. Otherwise, there would be no point in training me. If I can't fight them…"
Bradley felt his heart missing a beat. She wanted to train so she could be able to face homunculi?!
"I don't want you fighting… You shouldn't…"
"King, please, we must be honest to each other."
She pulled on his collar and he slowly sat up, with Amelia still sitting in his lap, keeping a grip on his collar until his forehead met hers. She undid the eyepatch and he felt something breaking inside him as she shivered against him.
"I know you won't settle for this, Brad. Taking orders your entire life. I know you. You're planning something. And when the time comes, I need to be a part of it."
Her lips were brushing against his at each of her words, her voice so low that no spy could possibly hear her. She was so close but he felt a strange mix of desire and pain. She remembered the half promise he had started back when they both lied in the snow, over a year ago. A world where things would be different. A world where he would defy them.
"Why don't we start with smaller objectives for your training?"
He cut off her potential protest with a fleeting kiss that turned deeper than expected. When he finally pulled back, she looked torn, knowing how difficult she was making this for him. He had hesitated a long time before accepting to train her.
"You can't keep me on the side. I might never get as strong as…"
"At first you wanted to train to face human danger. How far will this go if I encourage you?"
She shook her head in surrender.
"This doesn't feel like me. And I know this doesn't feel entirely right. But I want to be stronger. So I can hold my ground in something else than words."
He wondered if the fact she couldn't be a mother had any influence in this recent development.
"I'll train you more seriously if that's what you want. But you must be realistic. You are not going to be a soldier. Or a vigilante. Or whatever you have in mind."
"Brad, I'm not saying I'll be roaming the streets chasing shady people. I just don't want to depend on bodyguards or to have you as worried as you were when we started living here. I know Central isn't right."
"If you're that serious, you'll need some kind of weapon."
She didn't look as put off as when he'd suggested of her learning how to handle guns. Amelia was hardening herself. And he wasn't sure if he liked that. But Envy had show up on their doorstep. And he'd rather know she could put up a fight if the need arose, although he'd never forgive himself if it did.
To be continued…
This might sound weird, but the whole training session is leaving me full of doubts. The first part, which I had envisioned for a while, like when I started the freaking fic itself, is much to my liking, even though it is overdramatic. But King has taken a nasty blow to his pride. And I can't help but believe that something that every human barely take for granted as fertility… Well it's a touchy subject. Bradley know that his legacy has been decided for him. And now he can't even let a child behind to change it. As if he'd want the job done by anyone else than himself. I might change the training sequence, for the third or fourth time, but I'd like to have your opinion. Amelia might have been taking some frustration out on King as it is. Unhealthy you say? Ha!
I'm sorry for not updating faster, as you can tell, this part gave me trouble. And since school is kicking up, I might not update any faster than I do, like about, three to four chapters a year. But I'm not giving up on this story! I still have a lot of action and heartache in store!
