Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Who Do You Love? ❯ Chapter 1

Written from Roy's pov.

 

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Who do you love, who do you pray to, who hears your prayers?

 

I found you. I'm always finding you. When you're broken, when you're not looking to be found. I can find you. But, I am not who you are needing. I am not the one you pray to.

 

Not the one you love.

 

That's alright. I'm used to that. I'm used to the way you run from me, avoid me, hate me and assign all your disgust on me. It is how I love you back, being this representation of everything you do not want.

 

All I want to know… All I want is to know… Who is it?

 

Who are you praying to?

 

I found you, in this church. We are… two pagans who do not belong. What's science? It's another religion. Didn't anyone ever tell you that? And we are the gods, struggling to believe in ourselves. Sometimes we can.

 

Mostly, we fail.

 

You cry. You don't think anyone is listening. But I can hear you. You don't think any one can see you. But I can. You don't think anyone can reach you. But I do.

 

The pews stretched, but not too far for feet to close the gap. Wood was polished, ready, waiting for consumption in a brown polish mute. Heavy air. Somber metal; gold. It doesn't suite a utilitarian scientist. Too much gilding. Too much mystery. So I touch the auto-mail, where your arm used to be.

 

You look behind you. And there I am. Science.

 

You look away. And I know, I am not who you were praying to. That god up there, you weren't praying to that, either.

 

Were you praying to yourself? Do you? No. I know you, Ed. I know you, like I know the spark in my blood. I know you doubt yourself more than you should. I know you curse yourself, hate the way the words seem to go backwards when you try to read.

 

I know your little secret, see. I know you're dyslexic. I know you're colorblind. I know you can't even tell me what color my eyes are. You depend on your brother, for so much.

 

So much.

 

“Did Al tell you I was in here?”

 

Am I blind too? I nearly step back. My hand's already fallen away. I should have realized…

 

“Tell him… I'm alright.” You bow and pray. I know why, now. Shit. I should have known. “Tell him I'm just in the church, again.”

 

“Asking for forgiveness?”

 

“Sometimes I have to be a kid and pretend.” You won't look at me. “All understands. I don't need to explain it to him. Don't want to explain anything to you.”

 

“You did, anyway.”

 

The rows of pews- they multiply when a person leaves a church. Even when they are empty.