Title: Tears
Characters: Edward, Alphonse, Winry, Scar and Homunculi
Genre: Angst/Hurt Without Comfort
Type: Cannon Universe
Words: 2,675 (without AN or Intro)
Tears:
(noun) a fluid appearing in or flowing from the eye as the result of emotion, esp. grief
Tears are regret. (Edward and Alphonse)
We were children then. Clueless about life and all its proven facts, our naivety had become our enemy. We knew only very few things about the world that surrounded us. We never had ventured past the borders of our small town, our mother had become our God and Alchemy was the method we worshiped her. Our neighbors were nothing more than strangers living next to us, school was a place to learn useless material and church topped our list as the biggest waste of time.
When we were with our mother, our worries disappeared and became nonexistent while our spirits were filled with joy. Her smiles were gold; her laugh was the most beautiful music, her beauty was incomparable, and she had the purest soul on the earth.
One day, when we were at school, our mother fainted on the porch. We never thought that our invincible mother, our God, could have contracted a disease. However, when she only got weaker and weaker, all we could is watch as her life faded, along with the past that we knew.
Foolishly, we were unable to accept that she was dead. We disobeyed life's most sacred fact; the dead can't return to the world of the living. For months, we locked ourselves in that house, researching relentlessly for an answer; a cure to this harsh truth. If anyone knew what we were doing they would have expected us to fail and tried to convince us to stop. Yet we continued to push, push for what we latter found out was an impossible dream.
The ceremony itself wasn't all that exciting, the results it brought us were the very definition of terrifying. In place of what was supposed to be our mother's body was a deformed creature made of stretched flesh, blood, and cold cruel eyes that our mother could never have possessed.
Years had passed since then. We learned our lesson; we knew that being naïve would get us killed in the end. We burned our old house with all its memories and left the little town that held no sentimental value to us.
The rusted wheels rattled against the train tracks, children laughed as they ran around joyfully, mothers scolded them for getting out of their sight. We stayed silent, staring outside the window, our regret plaguing our minds as the scenery changes in a fast blur.
Together, we ponder about that deformed creature and where it was now. We think of the sacrifices it had caused us, physically and mentally. Without the world knowing, we watch the life we had known slip through our fingers like sand, the memories of smiles become nonexistent, the laughter nothing more than a sorrowful song, joy a long forgotten emotion. Together, in this rattling train, we watch the image of our mother blur and slip away from our memories, and inside our hearts, we silently cry.
Tears are love. (Winry)
I promised myself that I would never cry in front of them. I wanted to appear strong; I wanted them to think that women were strong creatures and not weak like they may have believed.
I wanted to know their thoughts. I wanted to know what they were thinking, what their goals were, what they wanted from this life, what they valued, and most importantly what they thought about me. Did they find me annoying with my constant offers of help or were they grateful? Did they want to visit me only because of their injuries or did some part of them actually like seeing a familiar face?
I wished, maybe once, they would come on their own free will and not for injuries, just because a small part of them wished to see me. I knew I was being selfish. I knew that what I wished for could never be but I couldn't stop the part of me that deeply desired it.
Every time they wondered to my house, dismembered and crestfallen, I hid my broken heart. I would smile, scold them for getting in trouble and making me worry constantly before I would guide them into the house they knew as well as their childhood home.
They came wondering home, just like they did a million times before, however, this time they weren't discouraged or crestfallen. Their bodies were torn apart, gashed and scratched, both of them missing one of their artificial limbs. I could see through their eyes, that whoever had done this had crushed them from the inside. It was as if they had reached a hand into their bodies, torn their heart out and crushed their hopes and dream.
Their eyes, even when they were beaten down and broken, always held a desperate determination to find this mystical stone that could grant whatever they wished. Now that their determination, a delicate flame, was harshly put out by a waterfall, it seemed as if it was their very souls were broken and not their bodies.
Like all other times, I helped them into the tiny house with a bright smile. This time, I didn't have the heart to scold them this time. They had already been stomped on and violated earlier, I didn't want to see their self-esteem fall any lower.
Once I had them settled into their usual room, my grandmother dragged Alphonse to our storage so she could see how much metal she would needed to make his arms and legs.
Alone with Edward, I stood in the middle of the room, watching as he slumped against the wall, agonizing over the thoughts in his head.
Unable to bear his pained expression, I walked toward him, kneeling quietly in front of him. He showed no signs of acknowledging me for invading his personal space and he didn't put any effort to verbally object. With gentle hands, I lifted his face so he was staring directly at me.
His jaw tensed under my touch but he didn't reject it. My eyes roamed over his features, drinking them in like a woman who hadn't seen her lover in years. His jaw line had gotten sharper and square with muscle; his golden hair lay loosely at shoulder length, which had been ripped violently out of its normal braid. His eyes, veiled by his long sooty eyelashes, were dead, lifeless and confused; much like the day when he had to watch his mother's casket as it was lowered into the ground.
Mother like, I kissed his forehead, wrapping my arms around his small but strong frame, as if the world was going to tear him away from me. Moisture began to build behind my eyes, I sobbed loudly as they fell from the corners.
I wanted to tell him that he wasn't alone in this world. I wanted to tell that he had people that loved him and he didn't need a silly legendary stone to get what he desired. I wanted him to quit his job before he got hurt worse or die. Yet as soon as I tried to speak, the words caught in my throat and more tears fell from my eyes. So I kept quiet, silently begging him not to leave me again inside my breaking heart.
3 days later, they disappeared from our sight like a bad storm, not even bothering to say a word goodbye. 7 months later, a couple State Alchemists came to our house, carrying the full body of Alphonse clutching Edward's bright red jacket.
I didn't hear as they told me Edward disappeared and they had found Alphonse body outside the ruins of a large mansion. I didn't hear them as they apologized. I didn't notice as they passed me to enter the house and set Alphonse's body in the nearest bed, saluting me as they left. I didn't even hear as they got in the car and drove away,
I stood in the doorway, crying pained sobs because my crush, my first love, had disappeared in whirlwind of mystery and left his most precious possession behind.
Tears are weakness. (Scar)
Most of the fundamentals beliefs that formed my values today I learned from my childhood. Alchemy is the devil's magic. It is unnatural force and can only cause disaster and destruction. Emotions are useless. They easily clouded one's judgment and only lead people down a path of pain and suffering. I had to be the strongest of the strongest, so in the future I could protect the one's I loved.
My brother was the lucky one. He was what you would call the "rebel" of the family. He had broken our main belief and had taken an interest in the forbidden "black magic", known to the rest of the world as alchemy. My father had taken the most natural action he could have done, he disowned my brother. My mother simply pushed him out of her memory and if someone had asked her about her other son she would inform them she only had one son.
While I didn't quite understand my brother's reasoning, I deeply respected him. He was the only one who talked to me like we were equal, rather than a child who didn't know anything and they could easily bend to their will. So the day he had left, I had convinced him to take me. Together with two packed bags, we left and never came back.
We got our bought house and for a while lived undisturbed. Then he had met her. She was one of the local woman, notably the most beautiful and daughter to a rather proud, but morally sound man. She had instantly taken a liking to my brother and him to her; and without anyone's approval they began date.
When I first met her, I developed an immediate hatred toward her. I could see she was occupying all my brother's attention and I couldn't bear the thought of him focusing on anyone else but me.
For weeks, I avoided her every time she came by our house and never gave her answers longer than one or two words when she attempted to have a conversation with me. She never once complained to my brother about my behavior and continued to act friendly to me when others would have just caved in.
One night, she stayed over for dinner and I began to notice the little details. They way her mouth tilted up in a smile whenever my brother told her about his latest discovery; her bell like laugh when my brother apologized for being gone all the time and not being able to spend more time with her. I began to note the way she touched my brother. Her fingertips gently brushed the back of his hand before her slender fingers mesmerizingly grabbed his hand and wrapped it into her dainty one, holding it closely to her pale pink lips.
The more I began to notice, the more I began to fall in love with her. It had taken me two years of denial but when I finally had admitted it to myself, it was already too late. During those two years, they had gotten more intimate and their lives slowly began to fold into each other until they couldn't find the line that separated them.
The day they told me they got engaged, I hid any displeasure toward the idea. Instead, I congratulated the both of them, gave them some lame excuse and walked away so they didn't see the scowl that had formed on my face.
A year later, she caught a deadly disease that was quickly spreading into epidemic, leaving most of the people in my village in ruins. Like many others, the disease had claimed her life. The day they declared she had died, I watched as my brother fell to her bedside on his knees, tears flowing freely as he hugged the vessel that used to hold her soul.
He began to divulge himself more and more into work, locking himself in his room as he diligently worked on something that I could only guess.
Seven months later, we were invaded by the State Alchemist army. At the time, I was coming home from visiting her grave. They were easy to notice, the sound of their heavy footfalls and machinery against the hot sand, their loud voices in sync as they yelled across the barren desert. Quickly hurrying to our house, thoughts of my brother were the only thing I had on my mind. It was easy to reach our house in time, yet I didn't realize that I was too late.
I had expected my brother to automatically understand what was happening and to have been ready when I got there. Instead, he was naked like newborn baby; ugly thick black lines swirled in incisive patterns that marred his tanned skin, his ruby red eyes veiled over with vague unawareness. He was mumbling to himself, his voice carried by the wind. His tone was whispering low, contrasting the loud noises that surrounded us. Unaware of his surroundings, he kept on mumbling, kept on talking about some useless nonsense I couldn't comprehend.
Not wanting to waste another second, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the next house. Stealthily, I searched the house for some clothes for my brother. I struggled to put them on him as he fought me, but I managed. Without skipping a beat, we left the house.
Gathering with the surviving group of people, we had escaped from the alchemists into the desert, our native land that had protected us for many decades.
It wasn't enough though. An Alchemist had managed to find us quickly. In order to protect what I had thought to be the last surviving Ishbalans, I engaged him in battle.
It wasn't difficult to see that he was far better than I was. I barely scratched him, while he exploded an ugly gash on my forehead and torn my right arm off my shoulder. In my brother's last attempts to save me; he used to last of his energy to give his right arm to me, joining it by alchemy.
The alchemist had left, assuming we were all dead. There, in that hot, lonely desert, I broke my promise and let the only water left in my body leak through my eyes.
All alone, I cried for the ones who had left me. I cried for the ones who had been killed so coldly. I cried for those who were hurt and suffering as death waited patiently to claim their lives. I cried for the two people who managed to smile genuinely at me even in the worst of times and wondered why they deserved such a cruel fate.
Tears are dreams. (Homunculi)
We are monsters. We don't need to be told that, we can see it in your expressions, in the deepest depths of your eyes.
We cannot feel. It is impossible to know what joy or happiness or sadness is; or to even relate to you by a natural death. It is impossible for us to genuinely laugh or smile or smirk; even though it appears that way.
All we have is our hazy past memories and the sick dream of a stone that we will do whatever it takes to get our hands on. We don't care who gets hurt in the process, even fuzzy faces of our past will not hinder us. We will not listen to the people who created us because they couldn't bear to let go of the past.
We know better than to try to blend in as if we are normal humans. We won't beg for your forgiveness and we won't accept your sympathy. We will never see your love and only perceive your hate.
However, we will ask you one favor before we leave you. When you watch us walk away, please cry, because we are unable to.
As you can see this is a different style from most of the drabbles I have given you so far. I am actually quite happy with this drabble and really like this style of writing. Well that's all I have to say is review!