Title-Patterns in the Rain

Author- D M Evans

Disclaimer- all rights belong to Ms. Arakawa

Rating- frt

Characters/Pairing- Edward

Timeline/Spoilers- Set soon after Ed and Al try to bring their mom back

Word Count- 484

Warning- Medical descriptions of wounds and bodily functions

Summary-The storm mirrors his inner self

Author's Note- With nano going on, I didn't think I'd have the time but sometimes they just won't be silenced.


Ed watched the rain hitting the window pane. Outside, the weather seemed to reflect the misery in his mind, lashing the house with wind and water. Drops condensed into patterns. For a moment, he thought he saw the array for making gold in the pattern. He wasn't supposed to know that but compared to other things he found in his father's books, that seemed so mild a taboo.

Of course, the rain array could be nothing more than a byproduct of whatever painkiller Granny had given him. He hadn't wanted any. He deserved his pain but she said his blood pressure was going too high. There was no arguing with her. The needle dipped into the muscle of his buttock, filling him with something that made the world slide sideways and fall into darkness. When he woke up, his mind was sluggish, groggy with things he wasn't sure were entirely real.

What was all too real was the pain the medicine couldn't completely take away. He could feel the pulse of his heart in the stump of his leg, thumping as if trying to escape its meaty confines. The smells when they came to change his dressings were so gamey and metallic, so stomach churning, Ed almost wished for more pain medicine to send him down into the comforting darkness where he didn't have to smell coppery blood.

The sad looks Winry tried to school off her face whenever she came into the room weren't the products of a befuddled mind. Did she blame him for the condition he was in? She should. But it was fear he saw in her eyes as she pressed cool towels to his fevered forehead or fed him salty, beefy broth to keep up his strength.

However, the harshest reality was the hollow yet heavy sounds of his baby brother's footsteps. Ed could barely look at him, look upon the thing he had turned his brother into. This was all his fault. Al would have eventually come to terms with Mom's death if not for him. He was the one who pushed so hard for this. He was supposed to keep his brother safe. Instead, he had imprisoned him in a body of a monster. He had heard Al and Winry talking when they thought he was asleep. His brother couldn't feel, couldn't eat, didn't even have the escape of sleep. How long could his soul last like that? How long could his mind?

Ed went back to watching the rain on the glass. It didn't look like arrays any more. Ed wished he had never found his father's books, had never spent a moment with Teacher expanding on their knowledge. If he hadn't fought for answers, his brother would have his body still and he wouldn't be in a bed, peeing into tubes, aching with guilt and agony. For the first time in his young life, Ed felt defeated.