To Live Afresh
Author – DM Evans
Disclaimer – still not mine
Rating – FRT
Time Line/Spoilers – consider there to be spoilers up to the current chapter, definitely mangaverse
Summary – There are many things that he regrets
Warnings – none
Author's Note – written for the fma_fic_contest for the prompt, Angst. First time for me writing Scar. Thanks to SJ Smith for the beta.
Word Count 646
He never expected to feel this sort of mental torment, this sudden flood of guilt. Blinding rage over the fate of his brother, his people was his usual constant companion. Wrath had been branded into his soul, nearly driving his faith in God from him. Slowly, that faith trickled back as he learned to use the arm his brother miraculously, blasphemously, welded to his body. Ishbala had allowed him to wield the bastard power of the enemy and he had been reborn.
They called him Scar, hunted and feared him as they should. They whispered his new name, huddling together for protection. It had been so long since he had heard his real name, he had nearly forgotten it. What did it matter? That man died in the desert years ago. Scar was all that was left.
Or so he thought. First he met Yoki and didn't kill him. Scar still didn't know why. Then he met a diminutive girl who didn't fear him. She seemed to actually like him. Then came an alchemist he knew helped to slaughter his people. Marcoh merely offered himself up as a sacrifice as penitence for his sins. Scar told himself that he only kept this man alive so they could more easily complete their task.
Those chinks in his arm hadn't compared to what would come. Even with those companions, he never thought he'd feel human again. Then he met the threesome. Oh, he had fought the brothers before, nearly killing them even though they couldn't have been those he wanted, no needed, to punish them for the war. The little mouthy one just had been that much of a nuisance, forcing his hand, quite literally.
Now Scar saw Elric in a new light. More importantly, he saw the agonized face of a young woman whose parents he had slaughtered so needlessly. Her pain reminded him of his own and yet, while she hadn't said she had forgiven him – how could she – she had trusted him enough to save her from that truly evil bastard, Kimbley. Oh, Scar remembered him from the war all too well. He wanted to feel that man die under his hands but knew that, like the Flame Alchemist, getting close to him would be tricky, maybe impossible.
Still, it was the simple acceptance of his help, even though she had every reason to kill him, that set Scar into his downward spiral. Rage he knew but this was different. The feeling the young lady stirred in him, overwhelming him, was bone-chilling regret and anguish. He wanted to drop to his knees in front of Miss Rockbell and tell her that when he killed her parents he had truly been driven out of his mind by his own pain and loss. All he knew at the time was that her parents fixed up soldiers so they could continue killing his people. The thought that they helped Ishbalans, too, had been banished from his mind. Of all the deaths on his hands, those two were the only ones that made his heart clench. She wouldn't forgive him. He didn't deserve it so he kept his regrets to himself.
They needed him to be Scar, the hardened embittered assassin. Any signs of softness or remorse on his part currently served no purpose. Maybe if they all lived, he would confess his sins to the girl and throw himself upon her mercy much as Marcoh had done with him. She would probably turn him over to whatever government won and let them execute him. That would be fair enough in her eyes surely. Or maybe she would be crueler and let him live. Living with such pain and regret could be the worst punishment he could face. Either way, Scar pushed the thoughts out of mind. There was a job to do. Regrets could be dealt with later.