Title: Anger
Characters: Edward and Winry
Genre: Angst/ Hurt and Comfort
Type: AU or AR
Words: 1681 (without AN or Intro)
Anger:
(noun) a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire
Sunlight filtered through the glass of the windows, falling onto the contents of the room with golden glory, the white walls illuminated to a sickly brightness. The room was overcrowded, machines of all shapes and sizes attached to the small frame resting on the bed. Echoing beeps trailed along walls, closing around as the followed the walls like a racetrack, their screens glaring bright blinking numbers in the corners of his vision as if demanding out his attention.
He ignored his surroundings, disregarding every distraction set before him as he tightened his hand that gripped the plastic rail, his orbs fixated on the sickly form propped up like a wooden puppet on the angled mattress. Amber eyes gazed at him through the curtain of long cinnamon bangs, his dark eyelashes easily noticeable the same eyelashes that their mother used to have.
A grunt slipped from his brother's lips, a feeble attempt to clear his infected throat and as he expected a bone chilling cough would come next. When they came, his brother's entire body was shaking, trembling as his tried to regain control and after what seemed a fruitless effort he would watch as his brother weakly accomplished the task. The long acted routine would end when he would hand his brother a Styrofoam cup, filled with cold sterilized water, his brother sipping at it greedily before placing it shaking into the palm of his hand.
The cup was placed securely on the edge of the nightstand, removed of all traces of the crystal liquid with the exception of beading drops that clung to the side. His brother's veiled orbs, holding a slight misted glaze from the powerful dozes of pain medicine, stared at him, the sort of stare that made one feel as if they under the scrutiny of a lie detector.
"What are you thinking about?" His brother's tone held a tired lisp, this ragged tone of unfocused exhaustion.
"About how much I hate this hospital. Or rather hospitals in general if I want to be honest. You think with all the money they receive they would at least be able to buy good enough cleaning supplies to at least get rid of the smell." His brother gave him a gruff chuckle, his eyes travelling to the machine directly in front of him as he watched the line rise higher, the number increasing.
"You're just annoyed by the fact that I am in one." His brother's words held the hint of vindictive intent but his natural good disposition had toned down the harsh syllables, his hazed eyes decreasing the offensiveness of his words.
The validity stung his heart but he hid it behind a vehement laugh, earning a ghosted smile from his brother. "I suppose your right." He admitted. "However they really could do something with the furniture. I mean even a grandma wouldn't buy this tasteless piece of junk."
His brother gifted him with another quiet chuckle, a rare occurrence on an ordinary day and miracle on this one. His brother's laughter died down; to quickly for his taste and he watched as Al eyes shifted away from his form, a vague and unfocused expression as he stared outside the window, the world taunting him with its clear blue sky, chirping birds and relieved patients as they headed toward their parked cars.
"Can you promise me something Ed?" Al's tone was light, a decipherable disconnection between his eyes and voice. He was about to fall into a light sleep again, the medicine had been given to him thirty minutes ago and if Ed knew correctly its effects would kick in some time soon.
"What is it?" Ed asked, knowing very well that his brother would only stay awake long enough to say what he wanted and would never hear his answer, whatever it might be.
"I don't want you to be angry when I die. I am begging you now; when I die please do not grief for me longer than necessary. I don't want to be the reason your life comes to complete halt and you refuse to move on and to continue to dwell in the past." He took a deep breath. Al's voice rose to almost a scream, the highest Ed had ever heard it in his life and something he never wanted to hear.
"You're going to fall in love some day with a woman. And you're going to date her and act as her lover but when the times comes for when you known each other long enough and you should take it to the next step you are going to say no because of my death. This isn't a worry it is a fact. Do not give up your life; do not dishonor our mother's memory by using us as an excuse."
Ed's features twisted in defiance, the corner of eyes narrowing, his brows furrowed into the bridge of his, fingers gripping tightly to the plastic rail. "You're not dying."
Al's eyes held a spark of sarcasm, one of the very few times in history he could remember his brother's eyes shaded with bold hues and the stirrings of a rebellion.
"Ed, there is no argument, I am going to die. There is going to be no arguing or fighting and there most certainly isn't an 'if in this equation' either. I am dying, Ed."
He shook his head, as if to shake away all the negative promotions of death his brother was so harshly spewing. "Look the doctors—"
His brother interrupted him; hand on his, eyes crinkled at the edges, a frown pulling his lips. "The doctors gave me a fifteen percent chance of survival. That is an eighty five percent chance of certainty that I won't make it. The doctor's have given up on me; I have given up on myself. Why do you continue to argue this?"
Ed looked away, listening carefully as another unwanted sigh slipped from his brother's mouth. Slowly, Al's eyelids drifted lower, a few minutes later falling to a complete shut, a light snore flaring is nostrils and Ed alone with his thoughts.
X-x-X
They would meet again on two ends of busy street in perpetually moving New York City, standing on opposite sides of the crossroads, toes just hanging over the edge of the grimed sidewalks. In the sea of blank strange faces, they would be quick to find the others presence.
Irises of exotic colors would climb down their opposites figure, noticing the small details others would over look such as the aging wrinkled lines, the conditions of their forms, their unique features and the shaded exhausted pain they shared in their bright hues. While this scrutiny occurred they would compare their present form to their memories which were slightly altered by the hazy blur of time.
They would continue to stare even after the sign had changed, the pale man signaling the safety in crossing the street. The white painted cross walk would become their bridge, the bridge that had always connected them no matter where they were but one they could never find the courage to cross.
For he was consumed in his anger, the world always peering as if at any moment it was going to rip him apart and destroy him. There was no such thing a generosity given under the motive of good will or love given without the circumstance of unholy lust and greed for money. He always revolved around the benefits, keeping his mind only with rational logical thoughts and forbidding the adrenaline of his emotions.
Anger had flooded her judgment, had violated her soul, tearing and shredding away what she had originally believed to be her rock steady beliefs. It resulted in a quicker temper, her impatient irritation one of the causes for his abrupt leaving and the crashing end of their relationship. It plagued her like guilt, guilt no matter the hours of therapy and talking she was never able to rid herself.
X-x-X
As he knew and she as well, he would come to the choice to not cross the walkway. With one last fleeting look, he turned on his heels and glided away from her, the heavy pressure of loneliness weighing on his shoulders. And as she watched as her old lover walk away, the breathing reason she felt as if someone had scoped the insides of her heart and hollowed her, she debated whether to act upon her inner desire to chase him down and to attempt their relationship one more time or to turn her back and accept the fact that there was no second chance and move on.
Then a thought entered her mind, one of those pestering thoughts that would hover at the edges, always echoing darkly and never silenced despite the best of efforts. She turned her head quickly, seeing the light was still signaling that it was safe to walk. And without a second thought she ran down the cross-way, conquering the bridge he could never.
X-x-X
Her footsteps echoed in his ears as she thundered down the street, determination burning in her crescent blues. He didn't know what had stopped him, what had made his feet pause and turn so he was directly in line with her.
He supposed it was because part of him wanted to stop running, to live fully instead of running away from those he cherished and admired. So he stayed rooted to his spot, unmoving to anyone.
He would take anything she would throw at him, any harsh words, any crying tears, and any abusing kisses. He would consume greedily everything she presented him and love her right, love her fully, as a man and human being for that was his obligation, the only way to right the wrong he had committed. Because he was starting to get tired of all this anger and the pain it brought him. With certainty, he knew his brother was smiling right now with their mother in heaven.
I know its been a long time since I have written one of these and so I hope this is will satisfy your appetite and earn your forgiveness. So has anyone noticed I promised a light fluff drabble but haven't given you one. Well I will fulfill that promise, emotion permitting me, and I don't care how long it takes. So for those still reading, thank you, you are all wonderful people and I hope I can receive a few more reviews from my wonderful readers.