Leave A Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist)

The Day the Earth Stood Still

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I sat where Ed had placed me.

I hated waiting.

I hated feeling like I was a statistic outside of the normal range; an outlier outside of the equation.

Look, I told myself, eyes closed and hand clutching chain. That's what your name means, isn't it?

Mirah

And yet I couldn't see a thing.

Nervously tapping my foot, hand on the garter that secured the weapon on my leg.

A weapon that would be so useless, against someone so strong.

I stood to a burst of wind, and it whispered to me, that silence.

Mirah.

I clutched at the necklaces hanging from my throat, resting on my upper-chest. Jewelry, promises of love and friendship...

And then I felt the earth leave me.

I blinked, that blackness filling the space between here and there. Losing me for a moment before I regained myself.

I was no longer in the outskirts of Hohenheim's setup.

I was falling, Ed's scream filling my ears, gravity filling my consciousness and body.

And then gravity stopped, strong arms holding me. I watched concrete ground grow closer, and laughter filled my ears.

Blood splurted from Ed's chest, partially covering me as well. And then a voice—one I didn't recognize.

"You fool! Your heart is now impaled—oh how weak humans are!"

"Ch'yeah, right." With me on the ground, looking up at him, Ed's chest began to heal. Snaps of powerful lightning, ones that taper out to me, healing a cut on my back. Some graze of whatever had hit Ed.

My worry grew to a triumphant smile. He was healing, after that attack... He wasn't going down so easily.

"And you think bringing her here would weaken me." He tossed his head up, golden hair crazed and splattered with dark blood.

Blood that held the Philosopher's Stone.

I nearly pushed myself to a standing position, but I felt energy settle me back down. Ed's words also, telling me to relax. He had this.

I nearly grinned, hearing the confidence of my future husband. He did. The win was his, especially with me there.

But then he cried out, holding his human arm. It was still covered with his coat, but whatever energy that hurt him was spiraling out like a tornado.

The scar on his forehead—gotten from some battle long ago—spurted open as well. Liquid red gushing down his face as his arm snapped in two. Then thirds, then fourths.

I waited for him to heal, but I just got the sight of him kneeled down and clutching his arm.

"W-what's wrong?" I asked him, crawling until my own hands settled in to the blood on the ground. A monsoon, a miniature lake.

"I... I can't heal. It's like he's blocking me."

I had to do something.

I began drawing.