A Promise To Protect

AN: Urey and Trisha. Say it with me – 'aww'!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Trisha Elric sobbed into the dark material of his overcoat. She clutched the woolly fabric between her fat fingers and pulled it towards her, pressing her cheek against the comfortably roughness. She could hear him sigh gently, and then his hand descended to pat her on the head with a sort of tentativeness she'd never felt before.

She hiccupped, her breath coming out in harsh pants. The tears just kept coming and coming, streaking down her cheeks, dripping into her open, wailing mouth and tasting like salt on her tongue. They dampened his coat and caused it to become even darker, soiling it with tears of anguish and rage and fear.

"Trisha…" Van Hohenheim's voice was gentle. "Come now. Don't cry. Your father wouldn't be happy."

Trisha jerked away from him and stared up into his face, looking indignant and sorrowful. "That's none of your business!" she screeched, whirling around and tearing off in a random direction, any direction to get away from him.

Van Hohenheim was a stranger to her. He had no right… no way to know what her father would have wanted… She released a strangled half-sob and dimly noticed the lack of people around her. She hiccupped again and sank to her knees, her dark dress slowly turning mud-colored.

Trisha wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth, her body shuddering. Her father… her father was gone. Gone. He wasn't going to come back.

Trisha was eleven years old. She knew what death was. She knew that everyone eventually had to die… but she'd never thought of a person she knew dying, much less a person she loved and treasured so much.

Her mother had always babied her and tended her to wounds and moods, but her father had been her closest companion. She'd gone to him for everything and anything, and he'd always answered her questions with an air of quiet comfort. She'd loved her father so much.

The tears started up again, and Trisha pressed her palms into her face, gulping. She felt a light hand on her shoulder and froze, her spine stiffening.

She'd thought it was Hohenheim, but it turned out to be Urey Rockbell, his wild golden hair tamed by means of a wet comb and a somber expression on his face. He crouched down next to her, his knees pressing into the crumbly soil.

"Hey there, Trish," he spoke softly, tenderly. "Don't worry. Don't worry."

Trisha swallowed again. "How can you tell me not to worry?" she asked him in a cracked voice. "He's gone, Urey. He's gone."

"I know." Urey paused, and she could tell that he was trying to think of the least hurtful way to say something to her. She'd always appreciated that about him. "But… but you're not, Trish. And you won't be for a long time. So don't cry, okay? I don't like it when you cry." His mouth turned down at the corners. "Please?"

Trisha closed her eyes. "I can't help it," she whispered, reaching blindly towards him. "I miss him so much." Her hands clutched the material of his jacket, and he pulled her closer, letting her head rest in the crook of his neck as she cried all over again.

Urey held her close and rocked her gently, and she guessed that his instincts had taken over – very few boys would consent to being so gentle, even with a crying girl. He patted her back soothingly, and Trisha released one last shuddering sigh before going limp.

"It'll be okay," he told her, and at that moment, she believed him. She would have believed anything he said.

Trisha pulled away and offered him a watery smile. "Thanks, Urey," she said in a subdued voice. Urey's smile was brighter and livelier.

"That's all right," he responded cheerily. "Just as long as you don't ever cry on me again, okay?" He made a mock threatening face, and Trisha couldn't help but laugh, even though it felt somewhat sacrilegious.

Urey patted her chestnut hair softly. His kind blue eyes shone in sympathy as he let her snuggle close. "Y'know," he told her, "I could protect you. Make sure you never cry again."

Trisha raised her eyebrows skeptically. "You can do that?" She could feel most of the sadness evaporate, but a small fraction of it settled down on her shoulders and in her heart. She didn't think it would ever go away, and although the thought scared her, it comforted her, too. She'd always have her father with her.

"Sure can." Urey smiled easily and ruffled her hair. "I'll marry you, Trish, when we get older. And I'll make sure you never cry, not ever."

Trisha thought about that for a while. It was a comforting, safe idea – she knew Urey would never make her cry. He was a good friend – the best. She smiled up at him, green eyes dancing as she caught sight of a brown-clad figure from the corner of her eye.

"No, thanks, Urey," she responded brightly, nudging him with her shoulder. "I already have someone to protect me from that."

AN: Mostly Urey/Trisha interaction. At twelve and eleven respectively, I think they would be really close friends, and honestly? I think most little kids of the opposite sex talk about marrying each other at least once. x)

851 words.