Winry was not able to concentrate on the eulogy the priest was giving. All she could do was run in her head, over and over again, what she was barely able to believe. Edward is dead. Edward is dead. Why is my Edward dead? She felt numb all over, like she'd been frozen inside a block of ice and then tossed into the depths of the ocean. She could not stop shaking, and every now and then a great sob would wrack her chest. She felt like her entire world had come crashing down, and she didn't know how to deal with it, especially not after that great miracle she had discovered shortly before being informed of his death. I can't believe he's really gone. I can't believe he'll never know, that they'll never meet. She glanced to her right and saw Alphonse almost collapse, and Mai quickly catching him in her arms and holding him. She ought not feel jealous, she should not, yet, she did, because Alphonse had someone to help him pick up the pieces broken in him by Edward's death. Winry had no one; Al was in no fit state to help himself, let alone her, and Granny had left this world already as well.
As she looked past Al, she could see Riza crying silently, Havoc gripping her hand fiercely in his, his eyes bloodshot and red, as if he had been crying too. Winry could understand why. She knew that he had been the one to pull the trigger that had ended her fiance's life, but she did not hate the man. He had not meant to to it. It had been an accident, it had never meant to happen. Although, from the medical report the doctor's had given her after his autopsy, it was obvious he would not have likely have lived much longer anyway. It had been a kindness, she told herself. Though he hadn't meant to, Havoc had saved Edward from a slower, more painful death at the worst, a coma he would never wake from at best. This was better. He had never even felt the bullet touch him. He'd been dead before he could have. At least that was something.
No, she couldn't hate Havoc for this, though she knew he hated himself for it. Who she hated was Roy Mustang. Mustang, the man she had always trusted, the man she had always counted on to keep Edward safe, had, long before the end, had been the one who had ultimately sent Edward to his deathbed. He was the one who had spent months beating Ed, threatening him with his own past in order to keep him quiet. He was the one who had forced their separation, who had forced him into his own home just to have more access. He was the one who had kidnapped Ed for the sole purpose of torturing him, he who had beaten and tortured him to the point of almost death. Winry hated the man, and she loved Riza for being the one to put a bullet through his head and end his miserable existence.
She hoped the bastard burned in Hell for what he did.
She became aware that the eulogy had finished, and she brought her eyes to the casket as they began to lower it into the ground. On top of it was the green banner of the military. Despite no longer serving it, everyone had agreed that Edward deserved the honor of being buried under it. Everyone was silent as he was covered in dirt. Everyone except young Elicia, who clung to her mother's side, bawling, as her big brother was lost to her, just as her daddy was. Hearing the child cry made Winry cry even harder herself, though no one could hear her. She imagined this would be how her own child would cry when she told him or her the story of the father they never got to meet, when they were old enough. She touched her tummy, which was not yet big enough to hint at anyone that she was carrying Edward's child. She didn't intend to tell anyone. Except Riza, who was the only one who knew. Her, and Winry's friends at Rush Valley, of course. Riza had been the only person Winry could bring herself to confide in after the news of Ed's death. She had planned to make it a big surprise for everyone, when she had been summoned back to Central a week ago. But now, nobody could ever know.
Riza only knew because she was the only one who had been in the room with Winry at the time Winry had been informed. And as she had cried, it had just...slipped out. Winry made Riza swear never to tell another soul, and she had agreed, not quite understanding why but never questioning Winry's reasons. Winry appreciated that.
It felt like an eternity before there was no more dirt to hide away Edward forever, but, all too soon, there was. Soon after, people began to trickle away. First Havoc, who couldn't seem to get away quick enough, quickly followed by the rest of Riza's team. Riza herself moved to stand by Winry's side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Gracia and Elicia left then, followed by the rest of the military personnel who had attended, including Fuhrer Grumman himself. Soon the only people left were Edward's closest friends and family; Emperor Ling, Lan Fan, surprisingly enough, Scar, Paninya, Maria Ross, Mai, Alphonse, Riza and herself. For a long time, nobody spoke, just stared at the headstone that was the only marker of Edward's existence now. To the shock of them all, it was Scar who broke the silence.
"Edward, I am sorry we parted in this fashion. I hope you find peace where you are now, and I am confident God has welcomed you into his arms. If anyone were ever more worthy of God's love, it would be you." He said, and, without another word, he turned around and left the Resembool cemetery. Nobody even noticed.
Next it was Paninya who spoke. "Ed, I never really knew you for all that long, but...just know that I'm sorry for stealing from you, and I thank you once again for helping Winry deliver my Goddaughter." She left after that as well, most likely heading back to Rush Valley. Winry barely noticed her leaving either.
"Edward, you were the bravest young man I've ever met." Said Maria quietly. "There are no words to express my gratitude in knowing you." Winry didn't even look her way when she spoke, and nor did she turn her head when she left.
Next to speak was Lan Fan. "Edward, if it weren't for you, I never would have known about auto-mail limbs, and when I lost my arm, I never would have know there was a way to replace it, and protect the Emperor. So I thank you, for that." She said, but she did not leave. She stayed right by Ling's side, as he spoke.
"If it weren't for you, Edward, I would never have found the Philosopher's Stone that saved my clan. I would never have been able to rise to the throne and I would never have been able to protect both my clan and Mai's. It just wouldn't have been possible. For that, I thank you, my good friend." Ling bowed to his grave, lower than an Emperor ever should, and slowly turned away, taking Lan Fan with him.
"I could never have become such good friends with Ling that he would protect my clan without you, Edward." Mai said, her voice cracking. "And I never would have met Alphonse had I not searched for you first. There are no words I can say that will ever be enough, but I guess I have to make do with the simplest words of all. Thank you, Edward. Thank you." She sobbed, clutching Alphonse's arm tightly, burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"Goodbye, Ed." Riza said, breaking the long silence that followed Mai's speech. "Goodbye, but not forever, surely. I do not know what lies beyond here, I do not know where you have gone, but I know I will see you there one day, Edward. I know I will. And Edward...I'm so, so sorry for not protecting you the way I should have. You were nothing less than a son to me, and I couldn't protect you. I am so sorry." Silent tears slid down her cheeks, and she gave Winry one last hug before departing, hugging herself tightly, as though she were china that might break.
Winry did not have it in her to give a speech, and apparently neither did Alphonse, because for a long, long time afterwards, there was complete and utter silence. Not even the wind dared interrupt it, and Winry hated it. How dare the day be so perfect on a day so tragic? The sun was shining brilliantly, as it lowered slowly back down below the hills as time went on. Winry realized that this day matched perfectly to her dream, one she had had months ago. Here she was, standing beside the grave of Trisha Elric. Beside it on the right was the grave of her husband, Van Hohenheim, and to it's left was Edward's, the grave she stood directly in front of now. Just like her dream, it read simply: Edward 'Fullmetal' Elric, 1899 - 1915. In front of his headstone were dozens of bunches of flowers, all as beautiful as he had been. Even as in the dream, her subconscious was making noises that resembled a ringing telephone, but Winry pushed that to the back of her mind. The sun had begun to set completely now, and Mai finally managed to coax Alphonse into leaving. Winry suspected that they would head back to Xing, but she was wrong. They turned left at the road instead of right, and headed towards Winry's house. They would probably wait there for her, and it was too bad that it would be in vain. Unconsciously, she touched her tummy again, and she realized the subtle differences between her dream and reality.
The first difference was that Mustang would never be dropping by, because he was dead. And neither would Hawkeye.
The second difference was that in reality, she could not find it in her to fall to her knees and break down crying like she had.
The third was that she had no intentions of committing suicide this time.
The fourth and most important difference was the baby she carried. He had not existed in the dream. Winry knew the child would be a boy, through some parental instinct she just knew that the child would be born and he would be a boy. She knew he would have beautiful golden hair rivaled only by his golden eyes, and she knew his name would be Maes. Because that was what Edward had wanted, a son named Maes. So Maes it was going to be.
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Mustang was hot, hot all over. He was burning, his skin was burning, he was on fire! He opened his eyes, and shouted, as he discovered he was waist deep in flames. He was floating, in midair, though it could hardly be called that, because there was nowhere for him to be stuck between. There was no sky nor ground, no left nor right. There was no top, no bottom, just empty space that was burning. He was surrounded by fire that burned everywhere, the only visible colour was the orange and the red of it's flames. The flame had no beginning, but at least it seemed to have an end. Which happened to be at his waist. He screamed as the fire turned his blue military uniform to ash, and screamed as it blackened his skin, and screamed at the pain that enveloped him, and the scream echoed off of the empty space so that the sound was the only sound that could be heard, other than the roaring flames.
He tried to figure out where he was, tried to figure out what was happening to him, tried to figure out why! He had no memory of anything other than this fire that engulfed him. He had no memory of how he had come to be here. He continued to scream as the flames rose from his waist to his chest, and the skin there turned black as well. He became aware of a sticky wetness that was flowing continuously down his face, and when he touched it he found that there was a hole in his skull, in the exact middle of his forehead. It was leaking a continuous stream of blood. As he screamed new screams rose from below him, completely engulfing his sense of hearing, and he closed his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears to block out the ear-splitting noise but it made not a scrap of difference, if anything, it only made the noise louder an more painful. He shouted aloud again and threw his eyes open, looking down to see what had made the sound.
Below were thousands upon thousands of people, people who seemed utterly unaffected by the fire, yet people who screamed cries of agony anyway. These people were a range of ages, from newborn infants to the wizened old elderly. They were all naked, all the babies and the little boys and the little girls and the women and the men, and not a single one of them had a face, save for a pair of glorious red eyes that contrasted with their tan skin and white hair. Despite the lack of mouths possessed by these mysterious people, they all seemed to be screaming in agony.
Slowly, memories of his life returned to him, in brief flashes, but it took a hundred years of pain and confusion for them to surface. The flashes were of a desert land, of a war. In these flashes there was always screaming, and he was always the one causing it. He would snap his fingers, and fire would shoot from their tips, and he would incinerate hundreds of people at a time. After three hundred years of screaming, pain and memories, he was completely black, completely engulfed in flames, and only now was he able to begin piecing those memories together to form a pattern, to form a story. But it was only just the beginning of a story, and he could never ever seem to find the pieces where he was a happy man doing good things, only the parts of the puzzle that were bad revealed themselves to him. Only the parts where he did terrible things to people, terrible thing like killing and burning the red-eyed people, the people he would never know because in his memories no one ever had faces, just eyes, the parts where he remembered torturing the golden eyed boy who, also, owned no face to call his own, the parts where he felt like he was the most miserable man on the face of existence, only then did he know who he truly was.
A monster, a monster who deserved the Hell he had been allotted.
But as soon as he was able to realize this fact, over a thousand years after he had first awakened in this place, he forgot. He forgot everything he had remembered, everything he had realized, he forgot everything he had ever known about himself except for his name, but after a thousand years living in the fiery pits of Hell, what was one supposed to do with one's name anyway?
And this process repeated itself for the rest of time. Pain, fire, screaming. Remember the reasons, forget them again, and then spend another thousand years in pain trying to discover who you were, only to forget again as soon as you realized.
This was Roy Mustang's punishment for his crimes.
This was Hell.
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Edward was standing outside his front door.
He blinked. How could he be standing in front of his front door, when his front door had been burned to the ground, along with the rest of the house? It took a moment, but soon enough the memories that he had momentarily forgotten flooded back to him. He remembered his human life, all the rights and wrongs he had done, all the rights and wrongs that were done to him, and he remembered leaving the world suddenly, not understanding why, until he had been told by Truth it had been Havoc's doing. But Edward did not blame Havoc, not at all. Truth had smiled at him after explaining, but not the cold smile Edward had always associated with it. The smile had been genuine, and then he had gone through the Gate. As he had passed through, a he had seen, in the distance, a golden being of light, in the shape of a man. As he had drew closer to this man, the golden arms belonging to him had wrapped themselves around Edward, and he had been overcome with warmth. A nice, pleasant warmth that made him understand that everything was okay, and everything would be forever. He had known then that all his life he had been wrong. God was real, and God loved him and God forgave him for his sins.
And now he was here, in front of his door.
He hesitated, unsure of what he was supposed to do now that he was here. For a moment he looked around, and, from what he could tell, he was in Resembool. It certainly looked like Resembool, but there was a brightness to it that the real place hadn't had. It seemed so much more...cheery. As he looked he saw the big tree that had always stood outside the house, and, hanging from it, the swing that Hohenheim had fixed before he had left them. The grass was the brightest green and the sky the purest blue, the sun shining and warm on his face, partially blocked out by the house that stood in front of him. Everything seemed so perfect that it could only be...
He raised his fist and knocked three times on the door, and, after the shortest moment, it opened and he was face to face with his mother. His mother that he had not seen since he was a little child. The mother he had once that he had killed a second time after her premature death. Her beautiful eyes were still the exact shape of gum-leaf green they had always been, her long brown hair still tied in a loose ponytail that hung over her shoulder. As always, she wore a purple dress that flowed to her knees, and a white apron to protect it. Her radiant smile made him melt inside, and, before he could do anything, she opened her arms wide, and he found himself rushing into them, wrapping his own arms around her and holding her tight, as though she might promptly disappear on him.
"Mum." He whispered, his voice cracking.
"It's okay, Edward, I'm here." She said, her voice gentle as it always had been when she had been alive.
"I can't believe it...mum!" He murmured.
"There there, Edward, there there." She whispered, pulling him forwards into the house. Once they were in, she shut the door. "I've missed you Edward, it's good to see you again."
"I've missed you too!" He said, looking up. "But, where are we? Are we in Heaven?" Just asking the question made him feel unbelievably foolish, especially considering he had never been one to believe in God or Heaven, but, after what he had just experienced, and what he was experiencing now, it could only by that. His mother did not laugh at his foolish question, only continued to smile up at him. Imagine that, Edward Elric, finally taller than his mother!
"Yes, honey, we are. You came too soon." She said, her smile faltering. "I'm so, so sorry about everything you had to endure, Ed."
Edward was unable to respond for a moment. So am I, is what he wanted to say, but somehow he didn't think it was the right thing to say. What he said instead was: "It's over now."
"Yes, honey, it is. Come here." And she pulled him into another hug. In that moment, in his mother's loving arms once more, for the first time since he was just a small child, Edward felt like it just couldn't get any better.
As usual, he was wrong.
"Honey, what's happening?" A voice called from the kitchen, and, as both Edward and Trisha looked up, Hohenheim walked around the corner, saw them, and froze. He was dressed in his usual attire of pristine white shirt and green tie, black vest, brown trench coat and black pants. His golden hair was tied back in a ponytail at the back of his head and his glassed gleamed in the light from the window beside him, making it impossible to see his eyes. He looked shocked. "Ed?" He said finally. Edward found that, for the first time in his life, at least, that he could remember, he didn't have to put on a fake smile for the man. Because it was genuine.
"Hey, dad." He said.
Hohenheim moved his head, and the gleam from his glasses was gone. Edward could see into the man's eyes, golden, like his, and he could see that he was sad. "Oh Ed." He said, his voice low, and then he was moving forward towards him, and Edward was aware of Trisha letting go of him and then Hohenheim had his arms wrapped around him and Edward's head still only just reached his father's goddamn chin but that didn't matter because for the first time in his memory his father was hugging him! Completely taken aback, Edward could only relax in his father's arms and rest his head against him.
"Hey, dad." He said again.
After the family's reunion, Trisha had cooked lunch and they had all sat down at the dinner table and eaten a truly lovely meal. Edward wouldn't have thought that a person needed food in Heaven, and he was right, but that didn't mean that they couldn't eat delicious food, apparently. Over lunch, Trisha and, Hohenheim explained to Edward everything there was to know about living in Heaven. After that, they talked on and on into the night about everything that they'd done since their separation. Edward told Trisha about everything that had happened after her funeral, Ed and Al deciding to bring her back to life, going to Dublith, training with Izumi Curtis, the failed Transmutation, the quest for the Philosopher's Stone, everything. And when they had finished, Edward went to bed, closed his eyes, and watched Winry's life go by.
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Hey guys. As promised, before the end of the week, the final chapter. Now, I need to make something clear here. For reasons I choose not to divulge, I will not have access to my laptop for the next week or so, so it will be a while until the epilogue is posted. Also, I will get to replies for this chapter and for the last DURING said epilogue, because I'm writing this on my phone right now and it is a giant pain in the patooshie.
In any case, I hope you enjoyed this final chapter, and I'll see you all in a week or so.
~Kala~