#gearxhead

“Hey- Winry? Mind helping me out here?”

Send me 🔪 to stab my muse.

It was cold. That was the only descriptor Edward to could muster for the sensation that spread through his body at first contact.

Pain didn’t come until he looked up. Until gold made contact with blue, proving the placement of the other, proving the responsibility, proving the darkest possibilities of reality to have come true.

The pain sucked away the cold sensation of imminent death, lighting his body with full awareness of every drop of blood that was spilling from the wound, the sense of betrayal leaving only fiery suffering behind in the boy.

He could feel that consciousness was a status that he would not hold much longer. He had moments left before his broken body fell for what could easily be the final time.

Shaking lips opened in those final moments, a single word leaving them before the small body fell limply to the floor.

“.... Are you ever angry at me? Not for, like, breaking my automail or dumb stuff. For, ya know... leaving Resembool. Or joining the military. Or... or-”