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FMA 2003 | Angst | Edward Elric x Reader | One-shot♱

Year: 2005

Age: 100

Edward Elric never believed he’d live to see triple digits. There had been too many battles, too much blood spilled, too many close calls. His younger self would’ve scoffed at the idea of growing old, wrinkled, and slow. But here he was.

Alone.

The years hadn’t been kind, but they hadn’t been cruel either. There was laughter. There were stories. There were children—his children. And then, their children. And their children. He had a family. A legacy. A home.

But all of it felt… hollow now.

Because you were gone.

You, his beloved. His swan.

The two of you had once been young and wild, navigating the uncertainties of life together with worn-out boots and a shared bedroll. You had seen his scars, physical and emotional. You had held him when the guilt for Alphonse’s fate was too much to bear. You had kissed the metal where his arm once was. You had danced with him barefoot in the rain.

But even swans grow old. And you had aged gracefully—smiling through each wrinkle, loving through each pain. Last year, in 2004, you fell asleep beside him, the way you always had.

You just… didn’t wake up.

Edward remembered the stillness in the room that morning. How your hand, once so warm, had grown cold in his grasp. He remembered whispering your name, at first gently, then desperately. He remembered pressing his forehead to yours and begging the universe to give you back, just one more day.

But even alchemy had its limits.

⸻

Now, in 2005, Edward Elric sat in the old rocking chair, a faded photograph clutched tightly in his trembling hands. It was of you, from decades ago—smiling softly, eyes full of the love that never aged.

The house was quiet, filled only with the soft ticking of a clock and the breeze outside brushing against the windows.

He closed his eyes.

And breathed one last time.

⸻

The door creaked open the next morning, followed by the pitter-patter of feet. His great-great-grandchildren rushed in, calling his name excitedly, ready to hear another wild tale of alchemy and love.

“Grandpa Ed?”

No answer.

They found him in his chair, still and peaceful. His lips held a faint smile. His hand held the picture of the woman they had only known through stories—the one who taught the Fullmetal Alchemist how to love.

And they cried, but it was a soft kind of sorrow. The kind that understands love doesn’t end. It just changes form.

⸻

Light.

That’s all he saw.

Then… warmth.

He opened his eyes and gasped softly, a weight lifting from his chest. His body—strong again. His limbs—whole again. His automail was gone. His youth had returned.

He looked down at his hands, then around the field he now stood in. It was familiar, but dreamlike. Soft golden light stretched across the horizon, trees swaying gently in the wind. It felt like the place he once saw in a dream, long ago.

Then—

“Edward.”

That voice.

His head snapped around, and there you were.

Just as he remembered you from the very beginning—radiant, alive, smiling just for him.

He didn’t hesitate. He ran, feet carrying him faster than he’d moved in decades. You met him halfway. Your arms wrapped around him, and his around you.

You laughed softly. He cried.

“I missed you,” he choked.

“I waited,” you whispered. “Just like we said we would. Like swans.”

He nodded, burying his face in your shoulder. “One can’t live without the other.”

And in that place beyond time, where swans sleep and hearts don’t break anymore, Edward Elric was finally home.