Resembool Wishing Well

CHAPTER EIGHT

OBITUARY

Maes Hohenheim Elric

Maes Hohenheim Elric, age three, was found dead yesterday in his aunt and uncle's house by his mother, Winry Rockbell Elric. His funeral will be held March 3rd at Resembool Funeral Home. His mother, however, wishes to keep the funeral small.

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MARCH THIRD

Winry walked into the small funeral home she'd been in so many times. She remembers her parents service, Trisha, her grandmother, and now her toddler son.

She wiped her eyes as she watched the pallbearers lift the small casket into the black hearse.

When they got to the cemetery she walked over to the grave marked three down from Trisha Elric's.

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After they put the last bit of dirt on Maes' grave Winry sat there for hours. She let the crisp and chilly air fill her lungs. Winry sat in the cold wrapped in her wool jacket, however, come nightfall she took it off, letting the cold air run across her body causing her to shiver.

Winry didn't realize how long she sitting at her son's grave until the world turned black and her daughter tugged on her arm. She took her daughter to the empty house she inherited from her grandmother when she passed away. She tucked her into the bed she laid in as a child and went back to the cemetery.

Sitting there at the fresh grave she finally succumbed to the sadness and let the gallons of tears she held back to be strong for her daughter come out. She cried her eyes out until her eyes were red and puffy.

Winry laid down on the ground cuddling the tombstone with her son's name on it. She told him a bedtime story and started to fall asleep on the ground where his body laid. "I'm sorry..."

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Edward went home and cried his eyes out.

When the last bit of dirt was put on Maes' grave he ran, tears flying from his eyes, back home to grieve in privacy.

He sat at his kitchen table staring at the alcohol on his counter. 'Edward you piece of shit don't drink it' he thought to himself, knowing alcohol started this all, back in the bar with Mustang.

Edward walked over to the counter and got a good grasp on his whiskey bottle. He threw it against the wall and watched it shatter. Continually he grabbed the bottles, breaking them, watching and listening to the bottles break into hundreds of glass shards.

Edward was upset. Yet he held back his tears remembering the blood-coughing tears of his mother's death. He couldn't believe he lost his own son.

Trying to clear his mind, Edward began to wonder where Winry was sleeping while she was back in Resembool. She was probably staying in her grandmother's house turned Automail shop.

Winry

He thought about their childhood. He thought about their wedding.

The small chapel was completely white, save for the deep red pews, champagne colored tool draped between them. There was a long gold carpet running up to the pulpit, light flowers ran through the entire aisle.

He remembered the excited nervousness as the doors opened, Winry holding the bouquet, Führer Mustang walking her down the aisle in place of her father. Winery's dress had a long trail and shimmering in the lighting. It fit her perfectly in the bosom and expanded like a cupcake at her waist.

Her golden hair was curled into beautiful ringlets with a veil hiding her face.

Edward noticed a tear dripping down his cheek, he missed Winry. She was his everything.

He knew the Winry would be sitting at Maes's grave, she always did that when she lost someone. Ed used to be that way too.

Edward needed to try to make up with Winry. He wanted to do something like she had done when Edward had gotten mad at her.

He got up and found a silver tray in the kitchen cabinet and put a napkin on it. Ed walked into their bedroom and got a fleece blanket that was folded and tied with a golden ribbon. He walked outside and plucked three rosemary buds, tied them together with a piece of twine, and placed them on a napkin on the silver tray. Finally, he brewed a cup of chamomile tea and placed it on the right side of the tray, next to the fleece blanket.

He picked up the tray and began to walk to his son's grave.

His son's grave

Edward tried to wipe the thought from his mind as he walked towards his crying wife.

Is she even his wife anymore?

He tapped Winry's shoulder and handed her the tray he had assembled for her.

"Edward..." she began picking up the cup of chamomile tea.

Edward leaned towards her when she suddenly threw the teacup at the wishing well on the other end of the cemetery.

"Go to Hell"

{ Author's Note: This update took forever, sorry. Also, the next update will be the final chapter of the story. Please vote, comment, and share!}