pandora_culpa: (Ed golden eye)
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Title: So Comes the Rain
Author: [livejournal.com profile] pandoraculpa
Word Count: 480
Rating: PG?
Characters: Edward Elric
Summary: Edward cannot trust the rain.
Warnings: Spoilers for chapters 6 and 43 of the manga.
A/N: Written for the [livejournal.com profile] fma_fic_contest, for the prompt 'rain'. First place winner, ee! Must thank [livejournal.com profile] truths_in_lies for once again being my second set of eyes on this piece.



banner by [livejournal.com profile] darkblysse



He was born in the country, where rainfall was a blessing to the earth, and yet Edward cannot bring himself to trust the rain.

It seemed that the worst points in his life were inextricably bound to the patter of water against rooftops and soft ground, and every dull-ceilinged day where the clouds hung low and heavy sent his mood spiraling into sullen melancholy. Nothing, no matter what the old farm men said, nothing good came of showers or storms; no pale shoots of hope bloomed in his life from such nourishment. No matter what song others heard, the only words the rain spoke to him were of pain.

There had been a storm the night of the failed transmutation. As rain lashed the windows his brother's face had disappeared before his terrified eyes, the agony of that loss overwhelming the sickening sacrifice of his leg, his arm. A crack of lightning lit the room, and he thought the moan of the wind was the voice of the twisted thing that was meant to be his mother, dying once again on the floor.

A steady, cold rain fell on the day he learned of Nina Tucker's death, the same day he fought Scar for the first time. Lying stunned in the street, ruined pieces of his automail arm glittering wetly about him, his brother blasted open and defenseless and beyond his reach, Edward felt the heavy hand of mortality upon him. Every drop that pelted down upon him whispered accusations in their rhythm: impotent, helpless. Such a small, weak man, to think he can save anyone, when he can't even save himself.

The rainfall came once more with malicious certainty the day he'd dug up the grave of the thing that he and Al had made, the day that his father had walked away, yet again (the day he'd arrived had been bright with sunshine, and he'd not forgiven the bastard for that, either). His tears were hidden in the downpour, water washing the taste of vomit from his lips as he held up strands of hair that could not possibly have belonged to his mother. All their losses, all their pains, and it had never been her. They had been wrong from the start.

And now today- the Promised Day. The sky hangs heavy as an implication, thunder growling deep in its throat, and despite his hard-won knowledge, despite the experience he's earned, despite his hopes and yearning and heartfelt penitence, Edward is afraid. Because the rains are coming. Bearing his sins and his memories, his weaknesses and guilt, ready to drown his tentative hopes in a deluge of loss, a lifetime of shortcomings. Darkening the day, a chill breeze moaning like a lost soul, the traitorous rains are coming.

The rains are coming, the time is at hand, and God is poised to spit on him once again.
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