Warning: Series spoilers will be present in this fic!
I don't own FMA.
The rain was supposed to wash the blood away.
It would wash it away and make the world better. The tears would fall, but the rain would clear that away also.
It would, it would.
But what if the bleeding never stopped? The tears were so harsh that no rain could stop the new ones about to form. The thick droplets became a nuisance, they weren't there to help.
Winry took shallow breaths; the pain was almost over baring. She was losing too much blood and the bleeding just wouldn't stop.
It had been an accident. That is all that it had been, but the mere accident was having a devastating conclusion.
A cry tore its way from her throat. She tried to sit up but her vision was too blurry and her consciousness wasn't yet stable. She was fairly certain that right after the accident had occurred she had passed out, that was why she had lost so much blood and had not attended to her wounds.
She took a deep shuttering breath, willing her eyes to look down. She had to see the damage, see if it could be fixed.
Her eyes widened at the sight before her.
A shrill scream tore through the midnight air.
Edward's eyes snapped open.
His pen suddenly fell towards the floor with a loud clatter. Shit, he had fallen asleep at some point.
Edward sat up, forcing himself to wake more. He looked out the window, it was still night time. He sighed as he pushed his chair against the wooden floor, the chair loudly scrapped in protest.
He stretched his arms trying to get more feeling into them. Once he felt his body was suitable to begin to walk, he made his way to the window. He pushed aside the drapes and lifted the wooden frame. The night air had a stale feel to it compared to his homelands, but who was he to complain? Stars broke through the thick clouds.
"It will probably rain later." he muttered to himself. A guest of wind toyed with his bangs causing them to flutter around his face. He paid no heed though. The wind was a comfort; it always reminded him he was still alive.
Even though Edward was more awake, he knew he needed to go back to sleep. This time though, he planned to sleep in his own bed. No more desk. His bed was going to be his final destination. Besides, he had a long day ahead, he needed sleep and energy.
Edward began to undress himself. He un-tucked his shirt and began to unbutton it. The white fabric fell to the floor in a careless heap.
The creak of the door suddenly grabbed his attention. He turned his head around sharply.
"Don't you ever knock?"
Hohenheim stood in the doorway. "I apologize. I was worried you were asleep again with the candle burning. I hadn't heard anything from you in awhile."
Edward grumbled. There was no use in arguing. He turned his back towards the man, waiting silently for him to leave.
But the door never shut. The silence began to bother Ed, he turned to complain to his father. "What?"
His father's mouth was partially opened; his knuckles were turning white against the door frame. That caused Edward to feel slightly worried. "What is it?"
"Edward, what is that on your back?"
Edward lifted an eyebrow, not sure what in the world his father was talking about. "My mole?" It was a small dot that was barely noticeable to most. It was something not to fret about, that he was sure.
His father shook his head. He pushed the door open the rest of the way. His face had become rather pale, his eyes looked slightly shocked.
Edward didn't like the look his father carried as his father walked towards him.
His father wrapped his hands around Edward's shoulders. He guided his son to the full body mirror in the room, turning him so that his back faced the mirror. His finger latched onto the back of Edward's pants and pulled down. Edward gave a startled cry of protest. No way did he want his father to undress him! But his father shushed him and forced him to look behind him.
In the mid of Edward's back, right at the waste line where there was a dip in the skin was a red marking. It was more like a tattoo. A tattoo he was rather familiar with actually. It was a tattoo he had seen before in the past life he had once lived. A life that seemed so long ago.
Edward suddenly felt shaky; his hand ran along the soft skin.
…he had never noticed before.
"It can't be." He breathed.
No, no, no. He began to shake his head roughly. His eyes opened wide as his breath came in short gasps. His mind was like a machine. In an instant he placed together the past events that would lead to a conclusion like this; in an instant he was able to make sense of things. It wasn't that hard, not that illogical. But… how could this be?
His whisper held emotions beyond what one could comprehend. "…No…"
Al looked down at the alchemy array. Why he was doing this, he did not know. Call it a compulsion or a simple gut feeling.
He stood to the side of the array. The only light in the room was provided by a dim candle. Dust covered the floor like a blanket, it had been so long since anyone had entered this building. It felt like a life time ago since he was last there, it felt like a faint memory. However, he had returned for a purpose, a reason. His faith and instincts were his guide..
It was time. No more waiting.
The alchemy array was etched deeply into the ground. Al poured water into the deep cuts. The water spread and filled the array.
The knife did not really hurt that much as it pierced his skin. Don't think Al came to kill himself. No, he needed the blood for something else, something much more important. With all of his studies he had realized one thing… Edward and he were blood bound. This blood bound went beyond family ties.
They had used their blood to bring back their mother. When they did the alchemy reaction and Al had lost his body their blood had mingled and become one. The Gate had assured this.
From what Master Izumi had told him, when Ed brought Al back, Al's soul was sealed into the suit of armor by the use of Edwards blood. Ed used his blood to bring Al back from the gate. So why…why couldn't Al do the same thing?
He was willing to sacrifice himself just to bring Ed home.
His blood dripped into the watery alchemy array. The water would help the blood expand, that way Al didn't have to give so much. After awhile of having a stream of blood leaving his flesh and dripping to the ground, the water turned a foggy shade of pink.
It would be enough Al finally decided. It would have to be.
"I can do this. I have too."
Al closed his eyes tightly, begging for some God or whatnot to help him. During all these years he had become quite the alchemist, but sometimes being a good alchemist just wasn't enough.
His hands balled into fists. Blood splattered to the cement floor, but Al did not care. He took a deep breath and allowed it to leave slowly. His voice echoed throughout the room. "It's time."
To Al, this would be the final conclusion in a chapter that needed to be closed.
His hands thrust their way towards the ground and the world suddenly turned a ravishing blue.