Disclaimer: I don't own anything obviously...Writen for lj's fma-fic-contest, prompt 10. Enjoy!


Even after everything was said and done; she liked to reflect. She reflected everything that ever happened in her life, and his. Some might say it was a bizarre way to reflect on the past. But she would say different and so would he.

When things were peaceful and swept away by the quiet, nighttime winds; and when all the dishes were put away, the floors swept...

She would crawl into her warmed bed and trace every scar he had. From the jagged and rough scars of his ports to the hardened, white gashes on his torso and arms. She would trace every single one of them; and he let her. He knew what she meant, and what she was doing. That was okay him...

Because he knew that every scar she traced, was an opening into his soul and place to reflect on things no child should see. They both had an equal understanding and respect for each other's way of reflection. And when he reflected, he would rub and trace her callused hands and wonder how many of them were caused by him.

And that was okay with her, because she understood.

Tracing their scars meant reflection.