The Water Alchemist

Things Left Unsaid

Welcome back to The Water Alchemist. I don't own any of the intellectual property of Fullmetal Alchemist.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Things Left Unsaid

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The metal handle of the shovel dug into my skin with each drive into the dirt. My whole body ached painfully and begged me to stop after what felt like hours, but I kept digging. Ed was quiet, aside from the occasional break he'd take to lean against the tree and heave. When he was hunched over, I'd keep digging. He'd eventually rejoin me, and we'd continue, the rain pounding at our backs making the dirt slick and dense. My sneakers slipped once or twice, and each time I just barely caught myself on the pole of the shovel. My hair clung to my face in stringy clusters, and my clothes were completely soaked through— a pre-wash before laundry, I joked to myself in my head to keep from thinking about how angry Ed was at me, at how impulsive I had been. I couldn't worry about it now; it was far too late for that. I had brought it upon myself. Besides, there were more important things to focus on. If I was going to be there, I was going to be present. Things were going as smoothly as one could hope for a while, but at some point, Ed doubled over suddenly, clutching at the fabric at his shoulder. He cursed through grit teeth, and a swell of worry drove me forward. I let my shovel fall to the ground beside me as I knelt in front of him.

"Your port?" I asked.

He nodded, jolting with a yelp as a second wave of pain hit him. His face screwed up in agony, and small whimpers escaped his lips— a truly pitiful sound. One I'd gladly go the rest of my life not hearing. I took a deep breath and encouraged him to do the same, unsure how else to help. I was already on thin ice. He didn't say anything, but he took a ragged breath and another, but breathing only did so much.

Screw it, I thought as I gently circled my arms around him, hesitant enough so that he could withdraw at any moment. But as my hands rested against his back, he leaned his forehead against my shoulder, still clutching at his. He was trembling, maybe from the cold or the ache in his port. I sat there with him in my arms, rubbing small circles on his back and encouraging him to ease his breathing until it stopped. I eventually felt him tug against my hold, his hands resting at his knees now, and I pulled away, my hands lightly tracing his shoulders before I released them. He nodded just once but didn't look me in my eyes as he stood. I sighed, trying to stand on my legs— which had fallen asleep beneath me when he held his hand out. I was surprised enough he had let me hold him, had let me return the favor he had given me; I wasn't expecting an act of chivalry. Even so, I took it gratefully. I began coughing a bit as I stood, and he gave me a look, but I waved him off, and we got back to digging.

I kept at it until I hit something and felt the vibration up from my shovel, the sound echoing around in my head. As I gazed down into the hole, I realized I had hit my shovel against the skull of the creature. A shiver ran up my spine as I looked over to Ed. He glanced at me with wild and terrified eyes as he threw his shovel away and ran over. I stepped back with mine in hand as he fell haphazardly into the hole. I watched anxiously as he dug out around the remains, purposely avoiding the bone poking through the earth, instead pulling a thick clump of hair from the mud. I covered my mouth, gagging a bit as a wave of nausea crashed over me, and I just barely managed to suppress a cough that climbed up my throat. He sprinted to the water bucket and sank to his knees before it, plunging the specimen into the water and ripping it out to inspect it, his face grave.

"Granny?" he asked, sounding like a terrified little kid. "Mom's hair was a light chestnut color. This is black." He choked out his last words as if he were choking back bile.