Leave A Scar

I was flying.

I hit the rooftop hard, landing on both feet, the scar on my calf screaming.

Ed met my eyes, that gold wide with alarm.

Those eyes went wide, and I could do nothing but stare as a massive gust of wind suddenly blinded both of us. When my eyes opened again, when I looked as fast as I possibly could, Ed's human arm was reduced to nothing but a bleeding stump.

I woke up with a jolt. Enough for Ed to jump in shock from where he was standing.

"What's wrong?!" he asked me.

I could only give these stupid heavy breaths in response. My eyes shut tight, and I curled my body against bent knees. Just trying to get enough air. Gain enough composure.

Just a dream.

It was just a dream.

But the reality of it... The fact that it could have happened so easily... That's what scared me more than anything.

I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to hurt either of them...

Ed was crawling to me with his knees, shifting on the bed until he sat in front of me. Hands found mine; contrasting in temperature. I resisted the urge to slip my hands out of his gentle hold. I resisted the urge to start shaking, distracting myself by listening to what Ed was whispering to me.

Deep breaths. I did that. I was fuċkɨnġ smart enough to do that. The thought sent a sting of pain into the place behind my ċhėst, and I focused on that. Continuing to pull air into my lungs through my mouth. Deep breaths.

His thumb kept moving along my hand. Rhythmic strokes. Loving. I felt disgusted at the feeling.

I tried to focus on the emotional pain in my ċhėst, but it was quickly fading. Walls beginning to break. I'd already let Ed see a part of me I had only showed one other person... I'd already let him in and even now I felt myself beginning to break.

I pulled in another breath, squeezing my eyes shut. But Ed pulled me into an embrace, murmuring words that were spoken so sweetly I had to turn my head into his ċhėst. Press my face roughly against him until I thought my nose might pop.

"It's okay," he said. I just kept trying to draw in deep breaths like he told me to. He briefly looked away from me, hand brushing a tendril of hair away from my face. Tucking it behind one ear. "It's okay," he repeated. "Just a dream."

He smiled at me, eyes curving a little. "I know they can be really realistic sometimes, but everything's okay now! You're safe!"

Safe, I repeated. I almost shook my head, almost told him how we really WEREN'T safe, going like this. Traveling with bȧrėly a goal, bȧrėly a way to get their bodies restored, all the while being hunted down by these THINGS THAT COULD KILL US

Some part of that must have slipped out in a small breath, because Ed took my hands in his again, trying to comfort me. Like a child. Like a kid.

"There's nothing we haven't been able to handle," he said. And he grinned again. "And you know what Al and I went through—some pretty crazy stuff, right?"

He paused, a silence arriving when I didn't answer him. I felt one of his hands leave, and my heart lept at the idea that he had actually gotten it through his head to go. But then I felt a thumb run along my cheekbone, wiping away tears I didn't know had spilled. Ed spoke, words incredibly quiet. Just for me to hear.

"You remember what I told you after we found out the amulet was fake, don't you?"

I did. I remembered. I remembered how he pointed at me with that blood-stained glove, grinning as he tried to tell me things were going to be okay. And he spoke so confidently that I believed him.

Ed smiled a little more, and the gesture was enough to catch my focus. Bring my attention to him, look up and see the bottom of his eyes curving in such a kind smile, continuing to hold my gaze. And he said those same words again, spoken with such love.

"Get that look off your face. We've done this before—" He stopped, and I filled in the silence like he wanted me to. Repeating his own words back to him.

"And we'll do it again," I said.

"That's right!" He grinned, and squeezed my hands that were still clasped between his. I breathed, focusing on breathing. I nodded.

"Okay."

And just like that, I was repaired. A fracture overtaken by a band-aid.

We continued on, shortly after that. Ed made sure I was okay, speaking the question a few times.

"Are you okay?"

And at this first one, I nodded, already standing again. Dressed in that floofy, oversized shirt Al had given me when we went shopping for shorts.

"But... Are you sure you're okay?"

I forced out the smallest of smiles, letting him know his comedic undertones were being well-received.

"Yes, Edward," I responded, "I'm okay."

He gave me a bigger smile.

"Good."

And we left it at that.

It's strange, not being safe within your own head. Not having the strength to go against thoughts; to tell them otherwise and simply succumb to their demands. The orders of silence and confirmations of worthlessness; the measures of whoreishness and pure instability.

It's strange, those thoughts.

I never thought about it 'til now.

i never thought about the pain I'd caused them, the burden that made up my existence.

I never thought about any of it, until that train ride to Ebolas.

We'd been to this town before; a rather large city with many shops. Many places for Ed to stick his nose into, earning a grin from his brother and a muted laugh from me.

I wanted to apologize. To say I was sorry for everything and just jump out the train car, become a part of the tracks and the wheels would slice through me. I would cease to be a burden, and just become a part of the track.

I just wanted to take the weight off of Ed. And it pained me to no end that I couldn't.

"Ed..." I began, prompting the Alchemist's stare away from the window. With those golden eyes on me, I just thought of how they'd curved into a smile, at the beginning of the day. At the beginning of my second nightmare.

"Yeah?" he answered, and then his eyes flicked over my being, trying to read my body language. But I was nothing but a pair of crossed legs and an empty smile. "What's up?"

"I..." My eyes water a little, and I smiled enough to curve my vision. "I need to talk to you."

"S-sure." Ed rose from his seat, one leg uncrossing and foot going to the floor. Standing him tall again, gloved hands disappearing into coat pockets. Head tilted a little to the side, to an angle that sent a question to my mind.

Are you okay?

I wasn't, but that was a given.

When we were alone, when we were at the front of our train car, that's when I began speaking.

"Thank you," I said, body bowing low, hands clasping one another. "For this morning. I couldn't have gotten through it without you."

When I'd straightened, when I'd recovered to my full height, Ed reached forward. Taking a strand of hair and tucking it behind my ear. And just like that, I was back in room 403, in Kuijec. I froze, completely paralyzed as my dark eyes looked into his. How those golden irises shined, the dark pupil taking in the movements of his hand. How his fingers were tracing the length of the strand he'd moved...

My mouth opened, trying to birth words into existence. What exactly, I don't know. But the air those words would've taken was shut down as Ed placed a delicate finger to my lips. Shutting me down, closing my mouth once again. Leaving me silent; leaving me useless once more.

I couldn't do a thing, when he was around.

So I did nothing, and for a moment or two, I was back at the hospital rooftop. Letting them take care of me again.

I closed my eyes, feeling Ed's hand slip away as the last of my hair slid between two fingers.

"It's part of equivalency," he said suddenly, quietly. Never breaking the peace his hand had made.

I opened one eye, creaking apart my eyelids, and he smiled at me.

"I owe you!" He smiled—grinned, actually—and left me to smile as well. However small.

"You don't—" but he shut me down with a finger to my lips and a soft smile on his face. That one... he hadn't given me that one in a long time.

"I do," he responded, and we left it at that. Those words, however small, put me at a checkmate. I couldn't defend myself or send an attack that weakened his defenses. I couldn't do anything, when he was around.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe it was better that I stayed standing on the shore, never rocking the boat or cutting through the waves.

Maybe it was best that I didn't try to defy gravity. I let the apples fall, and even if they became bruised with the impact, I allowed them to knock against the tree or the grass. I didn't interfere, and maybe that was for the best.

I didn't know today had any sort of significants until Al spoke, quiet voice and quiet eyes looking up from the thick textbook in his ŀȧp.

"Brother..." he began. "It's—"

"I know," Ed said suddenly, and his head moved down, palm slipping from his chin. The gloved fabric tracing over tanned skin. "It's been six years."

No one spoke after that, and I spent my time looking between Ed and Al. A rhythm set in, and like large balls tapping together in a time signature, my eyes went back and forth. From one brother to the next, completely lost and not hoping to be found.

We got off the train, and it was there I stood, rain soaking me again.

Neither of them noticed, both sets of legs heading towards yet another hotel. It was then that I saw it.

Another braid had been added, making the total six.

Six years. Six braids for six years of searching.

I could only stand in the trench I had made myself, water quickly filling up the dugged dirt and slowly beginning to suffocate me.

Al turned, rain streaming off his helmet. And with a smile in his eyes, he offered a hand. A helping one.

I tried to smile, the action no more than a twitch of my lips.

I tried to smile, and my ghost followed them both, hand finding Al's and rain continuing to pour.