The Empath Alchemist {Edward Elric X Reader}

39

Following that eventful night, there were five days spent at Havoc's childhood home leading up to The Promised Day.

Five days spent preparing, reflecting, training, learning, scheming, and worrying. Five days that would drag on for what felt like weeks until the night prior to the dreaded day finally crept up on the group of fugitives hiding within the woods, suddenly making those long, drawn out days feel as swift as a gnat buzzing by.

Five days, that was it. Each person within Jean's home focused on specific tasks and goals, introduced new strategies and trusted guests. Five days leading up to the moment everyone's lives would change drastically, whether it was for the good or the bad. Five days leading up to the moment sacrifices were utilized and promises between friends and foe were put to the test. Five days of watching loved ones crack under the pressure of engrossing emotion, hatred and love. Five days of limited sleep. Five days of endless sparring. Five days of staring at the same research for hours on end. Five days of pondering inconceivable concepts that they had never dared to give a second thought prior to the unraveling of these events.

Five days of watching the sun rise and fall over the trees, anticipating the beginning of the end with nauseating apprehension. Five days of crying, smiling, reminiscing, relishing as much as they could before they could not anymore.

These five days began with Edward staring down into the sink of the hall bathroom on the first floor with glossy, fixated eyes. It was past one in the morning. Riza and Havoc had retreated upstairs and Roy into the basement an hour ago. (Y/n) had gone back to sleep soon after her conversation with Riza. She slept soundly in her room, Alphonse keeping her company on the floor in fear of leaving her alone in the darkness.

Edward was the only stirring person on the bottom level of the house.

His bare feet settled soundly against the unforgiving coolness of the white tile decorating the small lavatory floor. The sink had stopped running, nothing but the occasional drip of liquid into the pool of transparent red that swirled about the oval bowl, contained by the stopper the boy had been sure to put in before dunking (Y/n)'s gloves into the water, filling the air.

Soap suds hid the vision of his dear friend's iron laced transmutational gloves, yet suds were tainted with a light pink as a result of the mixture of liquids that resided within the sink. Edward watched blankly, his thin brows knitted together as the blood stains refused to wash away with the steady stream of water and soap. He stared, motionlessly, even after he'd turned the handle and ceased the run of water to allow the once snow white fabric to soak. It was silent as he stared. Nothing but the drip from the sink to fill the eerie silence.

Edward had always thought human blood to be the symbol of mortality. It was a substance that pumped through the veins of every man, woman, and child. It was the same substance that kept people of all races, religions, and backgrounds alive. Every person bled when they were cut. The very same red liquid oozed past an opening in one's flesh and down their skin, staining it red.

Blood was only ever forced out of an injured or dying person, therefore, it was the general symbol of mortality amongst human beings.

And though the blood that stained (Y/n)'s gloves (that Edward had promised to wash out for the sake of sparing the (e/c) eyed girl the trouble and trauma of doing so herself) belonged to Scar, it could have easily been her own blood one day.

Mortality was what all human beings had in common. Unlike Homunculi, a thrust of a sword into a human's heart was enough to drop them to the ground and pull the life from their eyes. When humans were stabbed, blood spilled. It was the same blood that leaked from Scar's wounded leg, and the same blood that pumped through (Y/n)'s body.