Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Notes: This is completely impossible, but the fic bunny bit me and I had to write it anyway.
It was me, a small, cheerful voice says, and Seig swivels around, Izumi still sitting in the corner, hair covering her weathered face. She looks down at the words.
Seig is still clutching the pills in his hand, and he clenches his fist tighter when he sees the boy – boy, becausehe can't be much older than fifteen – sitting by the door, grinning and wiggling his toes.
Who are you? Izumi, who is this? Who is he? she says, in an unusually quiet voice. Seig, I'm sorry.Then it's true? Izumi, who is he?
She looks down even further, towards the floor, and Seig resists the urge to throw the prenatal vitamins at her.
He isn't anybody, she says, face shadowed. Nobody. Aren't you even a little bit happy? her voice is shaking a little bit. Is she crying? You always wanted a baby.Not if it's his.How old is he, twelve? Izumi, just tell me who he goddamn is!I'm Wrath, and Seig turns around again. The idiot is still grinning, climbing onto the windowsill and swinging his legs like a child. Looking closer, one of his legs is made of automail, along with one of his arms.
Yep. That's me. He's still completely unperturbed.
Seig turns around again, asking the only question he can. Why, Izumi, why?
She looks up, strong eyes burning into him. Because I love him. Each word accentuated. I'm sorry. Not the same way I love you, you have to understand. I couldn't love anyone else like I love you.
He looks at her, and then at Wrath, but can't say anything more until his wife speaks again.
I didn't mean to do it, and mostly I didn't mean to become pregnant. You know I thought I couldn't.
Seig looks at the boy again; there's a strange red mark on his foot. An alchemist?
he says, and it unnerves him that the child doesn't stop grinning. You slept with my wife.
He doesn't mean to do it, but the bottle of small white pills goes flying, hitting Wrath's chest, and then suddenly it's gone.
He blinks. It's inside of Wrath?
And then it clicks in his mind, the name and the mark on the boy's foot, and now that he knows he can see the way Wrath resembles his wife, uncannily, in his hair and his eyes and the way he holds himself.
He turns and stares at her, and for a second he can't make his voice work.
This can't be happening.
In the corner Izumi is crying in earnest into her hands, and then she crumbles, shuddering, and he can see the blood on the floor.
He turns, and walks away.