Webs
by Cinore
Disclaimer:
Full Metal Alchemist is not mine, but Hiromu Akagawa's.
A/N:
Credit should be given where it is due; the story was originally inspired by S J Smith's fantastic story, Devotion.
The "base point" of this story is placed 7 years after Alphonse Elric's death: the prologue. Time references at the beginning of each chapter should be assumed relative to that point. (For example, Chapter 1 is - 2 years, 4 months, which would make it 4 years, 8 months after Al's death.)
This tale is set post-manga, but in an alternate reality. In the manga, the end sorts itself out very nicely. There are no problems with anyone; everyone lives happily ever after. This story assumes that there are many more problems afterwards.
Enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated. :)
PROLOGUE
(They share one day a year.)
It's been at least a decade since either of them have lived in the decadent village they once called home, but they faithfully reconvene once a year now, unwilling and unable to let their pasts slip away.
It's been seven years since his death, but his presence hangs darkly over them as they hover over his grave, each one quietly shuffling through their memories of him. Too much time has passed his death, and so each memory has become warped from years of reminiscing and mourning.
Edward is 27 now, but this afternoon, he appears far older. He is dressed sharply, but as he stands over his young brother's grave, his eyes are dark and his breath is shallow. There's a bouquet of carnations in his hand, and he clutches the stems tightly as he stares dully at the inscriptions on the grave:
Alphonse Elric
1904 - 1922
Loving Brother
Talented Alchemist
Heart for Life.
He crouches down to string the carnations across his grave, running his metal fingers across the worn engraving as he does so. For a split second, he feels a strange otherworldy connection with his late brother. Then, the feeling passes, and he's alone again. Dusting his pants as he rises, he says flatly to the woman standing next to him, "Seven years."
"Yes, it's been long," she responds with a matching lack of fervor, knowing well that she has added nothing new to the conversation. And then the automail mechanic falls silent.
Her long blond locks twist elegantly in the gentle breeze, creating a web that catches her silent tears as they trickle down her cheeks. She isn't even sure why she cries anymore - it's been years since she's made her peace with Al's death - but still the tears come, without fail, year after year. They flow freely for a few moments, then she uses the sleeve of her coat to wipe them away.
Winry, 27, is a woman now, with a future of family and career to look forward to. The awkwardness of her teenage years finally gone, she moves with a certain, beautiful grace. With one sweeping movement, she removes her lilies from their plastic wrap and places them on Al's tombstone beside the carnations. A few of the stray petals are swept by the wind and are caught in her hair. And then she is crouching, her eyes level with his name of the tombstone, and she whispers to the cement slab as if it is the embodiment of Alphonse.
"I still think about you, Al. I'll never forget all the joy you brought." She pauses, then smiles half-heartedly. "I'll try not to cry anymore."
It appears as if she is finished, but she suddenly removes a pretty little ring from her ring finger and places it in the palm of her hand, as if the tombstone had Al's eyes. "Look, it's an engagement ring. I told you about Martin last year, right? We're engaged now."
The next words come out in a strained whisper. "I know you always hoped that things would work out for your brother and me. I'm sorry it never did... But... I'm happy now, so... Please, be happy for me regardless."
She finally stands now and steps away from the tombstone so that Ed can have his turn. Without missing a beat, he steps forward and crouches in front of it. A deep sigh leaves his lips and the dissolved Edward looks about the field for a few seconds before speaking.
"I know I said I'd never be a dog of the military again, Al," he begins quietly, his words barely leaving his lips before being swept away by the breeze, "but Commander Mustang invited me personally back into the State Alchemist Union, and the situations are different now."
"...So I accepted his offer a few months back, but I'm working entirely on my own terms. So please don't think too badly of your older brother."
An indignant chuckle. "And I wish I had a nice love story like Winry's to share. But it's the same as it's been for the past few years now. I wish I could tell you things have changed."
"...But I wish a lot of things." He pauses now, to cover a part of his face with his gloved hand. "...I now know better than to act on these wishes, though..." His voice breaks, and for a few seconds, Ed is an 8 year-old boy again, living on the hope of an unlikely resurrection.
He is older and smarter now, and so he knows well that his desires are nothing but dreams.
The pair finishes paying their respects to Al, then they hug briefly and part ways. Ed has a train to Central to catch and Winry wants to talk to the villagers before parting. They avoid saying unnecessary things like, "We should meet up sometime," or "See you soon," or even, "I missed you". Today, they are naught but two acquaintances with a very close, mutual friend.
It shouldn't have been this way.