Post by LadyRiona on Jan 7, 2007 23:18:41 GMT -5
For the Worst
Chapter 5
by LadyRiona
Chapter 5
by LadyRiona
It was late that night, well after dinner and usual bedtime rituals that Edward was creeping through the Rockbell house quietly. Al was already asleep in the bedroom the two Elrics had been sharing for the past week or so. Down the hall, Winry was probably asleep as well. Ed knew that at least one of the adults were awake; he could hear tinkering noises from inside the automail workshop as he passed.
Edward continued to walk further down the hallway on the first floor of the Rockbell house. All day, he’d been working himself up to this decision. In his small, slightly stubby hands, he clutched his heart he’d made that morning at church. After lunch, Winry had talked him into fixing his heart, gluing on the pieces that had fallen off in his hasty retreat earlier. Even though he still doubted that his mother would like it, especially after seeing Al’s, Ed had somehow convinced himself that he should at least try to give it to her. Winry had said it was pretty, and Mrs. Rockbell had liked it, as well. Maybe his mother would think so, too?
Very quietly, Edward crept to the door of his mother’s sickroom. Mrs. Rockbell had told him a few days past that the two households would combine for a short while, at least until his mother was well enough to move on her own again. Mrs. Rockbell hadn’t been able to give Ed an answer when he’d asked when his mother would be that well again.
Edward stood outside of his mother’s door for quite some time. As he stood, nearly frozen in place he kept seeing the times his mother had hit him fly before his eyes. He could almost feel the stinging sensation from each time her hands had connected with his face, arms, and torso, leaving red marks that eventually turned to black and blue bruises. He could hear her voice, shouting at him, telling him that it was his fault his father had left, his fault the house was still a mess, his fault for everything. Every accusing yell, every abusive touch burned into Edward’s mind, engraving themselves so deeply he would never forget the stinging of his mother’s hand or the angry sound of her voice.
All of this happened so quickly, so suddenly that Edward nearly threw himself to the floor in a heap, sobbing from the traumatizing memories violating his mind. Instead, he steeled himself once more to be strong against them, against his mother’s strange behavior. He stuck out his small chin, turned his lips down in what felt like a fierce frown, and pushed open the door to the bedroom. Ed’s eyes immediately focused on the bed. It was empty.
Where was his mother? Despite all of the thoughts and bad memories that had resurfaced, Edward was suddenly very afraid for his mother. Where could she be at such a late hour of the night?
Ed stepped into the bedroom and whipped his head around, searching for his mother. He cried for her, a thin, pitiful sound akin to wailing. It surprised him since that was the loudest his voice had gone for quite some time. He shook all over, not sure what to think of the feelings within him. One part of him felt so scared that his mother was missing; another was rejoicing, glad for her disappearance. Edward couldn’t understand these contrasting feelings, unsure if one or the other was natural.
As time progressed, Edward remained standing just inside the doorway. Tears were streaking down his cheeks from silent weeping. Unable to keep it to himself any longer, Edward whimpered and cried out for his mother once more. He clutched the heart closer to his chest, crumpling it slightly.
“Stop crying, Edward.”
The voice was so sudden; Edward let out a small yelp of surprise. Tears still fell from his eyes, even after he realized the voice he’d heard was his mother’s. “Mommy,” he sniveled quietly, stepping forward with much hesitance. As he moved into the room, he searched for his mother. When he spotted her, he could see her thin silhouette before the window. The stars outside illuminated her outline, making her look thinner than Edward remembered her.
“I told you to stop crying, Edward.” His mother’s voice was tight, a little weak and strained sounding. Ed didn’t know what to do, say, or think when she spoke. “Why are you in here? You should be asleep.”
Ed choked a little on his tears before forcing them back. What was wrong with his mother? Why was she now so mean all the time? Before his father had left, she’d loved Ed and Al so much, often hugging them and telling them what handsome little men they were. Since their father’s leaving, their mother hadn’t so much as uttered one compliment to them. She had hugged them both maybe once. Edward held tightly to that moment, holding it in the heart he had for his mother. Maybe it would give him the strength he needed to give the heart to her.
“I brought you something,” he announced to her, surprised slightly by the sound of his own voice. Very slowly, Ed walked over to the window where his mother was standing. He was a little frightened of what would happen, though he was clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe things would suddenly change. Maybe his mother was just having a long-lasting nightmare and would wake up, realizing it had just been a bad dream. Maybe she was scared, like Edward, and when she saw his heart, she would feel better. Maybe then it would be all right.
When Edward reached his mother, he held the heart out to her. “It’s a heart…it isn’t like Al’s; I didn’t write anything on it. But Winry and I fixed it earlier. I hope you like it, Mom.”
As Ed had been speaking, trying to sound like he wasn’t afraid, his mother had slowly turned. When her eyes had set on the heart, Edward had felt some form of hope in him that maybe she would accept it. As he turned his eyes up to hers, though, he saw merely an expression devoid of emotion. Ed hardly had time to gasp before he felt the sting of his mother’s hand on his face. He stumbled back, surprised. As he looked up at her once more, his expression was one of utter betrayal and hurt. He couldn’t feel angry right now; the grief growing in him was too overwhelming.
“Mom…” he choked out over the tears now spilling over his cheeks once more. He continued to stare at his mother, gold eyes wide and desolate, portraying the suffering he felt inside.
When his mother took a few steps toward him, Ed automatically shirked away, fearing another blow to his soft face. His shying away seemed to anger his mother more, judging from how she harshly grabbed his shoulders. The grip she had upset his bruises as she jerked him towards her. Edward let out a frightened cry, shutting his eyes and turning his head away from his mother, dreading the inevitable moment of her hand across his face once again.
As Edward waited for that feeling, it seemed to be in vain, for eventually he felt nothing on his face. All he felt was the pressure on his shoulders relieved and strong arms pulling him away from his spot on the floor. When Edward opened his tightly closed eyes, it was to see the off-white color of Mr. Rockbell’s shirt. His arms around Edward upset a few tender spots on his small, fragile body though he finally felt safe once more.
Within moments, before Edward was really able to comprehend, he was shuffled into softer arms, into an embrace that felt so warm and comforting. Edward pressed his face against this new figure and cried, not caring who it was at the moment. He just wanted to savor this feeling, the one that he hadn’t felt for so long.
Slowly, Ed lost himself in the feeling of safety he had at that moment. He was oblivious to the shouting going on around him between his mother and Mr. Rockbell. All he could hear was Mrs. Rockbell’s quiet shushing as she tried to calm him. Edward still felt tears staining his face. The tears he shed now were the ones he had refused to show in the past. Just like opened floodgates, his weeping wouldn’t stop anytime soon.
It was quite some time before Edward’s tears did cease. When they did, he was sitting in a chair in the kitchen. There was a mug of hot tea near his elbow. Next to it was the heart he’d made, crumpled and ripped. Mrs. Rockbell and Granny Pinako were sitting on the other side of the table. Neither had looked at him for a while, seemingly lost in their own thoughts regarding the matter. It was only when he spoke did they look at him simultaneously.
“It hurts,” he mumbled, pressing his face into his knees.
Immediately, Mrs. Rockbell was rounding the table to stand beside him. “What does, Edward?” she whispered, carefully placing her hand on his shoulder.
Edward was silent for a few moments, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. “My heart,” he murmured very quietly. “It feels like it broke.”