The Cycle of Pain and Hope

By Teenangel

Summary: a different ending to FMA, from Alphonse getting his body back to far into the future. Mostly following the life of Ed's daughter. Not what you expect at all! Blood, violence. Future fic. edxwinry alxelysia. Spoilers.

Author's note: some things may not be accurate to the anime, bear with me. And I swear this story has a happy ending!

Disclaimer: Got bored the day after finals, college student, so broke, wouldn't even bother.

1938-Risembool

Cocoa, no longer a kitten and not even a youthful cat, daintily jumped off her owners bed and slinked outside. She hunted a few grasshoppers on the way to the pond to catch fish; she was a terrible pouncer. When she arrived at the hill looking over the water, she noticed her master's father sitting under the large oak and stealthily made her way over, deciding it was already time for a nap.

Ed was startled by Cocoa's soft head rubbing against his hand and almost lost his fragile position, with most of his weight against the tree and the rest on his metal leg. He didn't argue when the cat curled up against him, although he always snapped at Al that he got Ali a cat just to piss him off. He looked out over the country side, a pink glow covering the valley, the sun shy behind the hills. It had been five years, five years of worrying if tomorrow he wouldn't wake-up. Always one more sun-rise he asked, just one more.

Ali noticed the loss of her bed-warmer, so much more comforting then a stuffed animal, and slumped out of bed to recapture it. She threw her hair into a messy braid; her eyes looked left, how she missed her father's braid, but he'd stopped bothering and wouldn't let anyone touch his hair. It just hung long and sad, like the branches of a willow tree. Cat, she reminded herself. Shuffling around the house, she found no sign of her precious cat, not even in the kitchen trying to get into the cabinets.

"That's funny," she walked through the living room, "the door's open."

XXXX

Ed heard the side door shut and looked down at his companion, "I think someone noticed you missing; you're gonna get me into trouble." Purrrrrr.

"Dad," Ali's voice scolded, marching across the lawn in blue PJ's. He smiled at her, thinking how she was definitely shorter then he was at the same age, and thankfully much more innocent. "Dad," she kneeled down next to him, absentmindedly petting her cat, "if mom find's out you made yourself tired again by wandering around, she—"

"I think we both know what she'd like to do," he patted the ground on the other side of him.

"Dad," she sighed, grabbing onto his arm as if the metal didn't even phase her "if you want to watch the sunrise, you can ask for my help. Mom doesn't even need to know."

"Thanks, I can see you've absorbed some of Al's sweetness," he mused.

"Only when it suits me, we all know I'm a lot like you."

"No too much like me I hope," he looked up, "isn't that beautiful."

The sun peaked over the hill and an array of colors painted streaks in the sky. Ed couldn't feel her grip on his automail, and put reached his real hand over to feel their silkiness. Ali's eyes were on the sunrise, marveling at a natural beauty that alchemy could never reproduce. Her father's rough skin stroked her fingers, like he was petting the cat.Then they stopped, and lightly laid on her forehand. A weight pressed into her, and pale golden hair brushed over her cheek and shoulder. Cocoa let out a cracked meow and began to rub into Ed's leg, begging for him to scratch behind her ears again. Ali grabbed onto her father, covering him in tears, muffling her cries into his hair.

"I love you, daddy."

A shadow fell over them, blocking out the pink-orange light. Ali looked up to her mother's grief stricken face, which was stuck halfway, unsure. Winry caressed Ed's face, his pale, smooth face, already turning cold. Her eyes watered, but she swallowed her sadness, she knew this was coming. She placed a kiss on her Edward's lips.

"Ali, you can let go now," Winry said, Ali blinked as she couldn't understand, "let go, sweetie."

She nodded, slipping her arms out slowly, letting her father slide to the ground, as if he was only taking nap under a tree. Just a nap. If she shook him enough, could he wake up, wake up and repeat all the stories he'd told her, so she could hear his voice again.