"I'm not human; I'm not your son," He said, glaring intently out the window, "But I'm not one of 'them' anymore either. Whatever in-between thing that makes me, I'm not your sick little creation anymore. I'm my own monster."

Izumi looked up suddenly at the surprisingly poignant way he had decided to break their silence. With all the years and anymosity that had built up behind this inevitable meeting, there had startlingly been no violence from the creature who had once been cripplingly blinded by the hate he harbored for the woman who created him. The spark of a long held grudge still hung in his gaze, but it seemed as though his fury had been softly leeched away over the years replacing it with something that almost resembled human patience. That was... unexpected.

He waited as though to let her speak. Unsure of what to call him by, she began akwardly,

"I had never-"

He had already interrupted,

"Never what?" He shut his eyes, his hands curling into fists, "Never meant to make me? Never meant to abandon me? Never loved me?

"I had tried..." For one rare time in her life, she was unsure of the right words to say; she was shocked at the near-civility of this encounter; the sudden... eloquence that this one called Wrath had suddenly drawn up seemed to pull away all of her own.

"But you failed, didn't you? You failed, and you didn't want to remember that. You didn't want to believe that you created something so awful. So much that you even pretended to love me, until you realized I could never be perfect."

"That's not-"

"Don't try to play innocent! You would have sent me to rot in hell without a second thought! I should have killed you for what you did to me. But what if I did? Then I would have still just been a monster. I wouldn't have been any better than you. So I changed. And he helped me."

"Alphonse...?"

"Al is nothing like you," Wrath said, gritting his teeth, "He knew I was a monster and loved me in spite of it. He knew I coculd change; he still believes I can get better. And I love him. I love him more thana bitchlike you could ever understand." With that, he had left the room, his eyes brimmed with the tears of restrained scorn.

It could never be 'right' between the two of them, but perhaps... so long as they both still loved the one who connected them, something small would be forgiven.