InsaneJournal

Walking Lost [FMA, Rose, PG]
Title: Walking Lost
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama
Words: 500
Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for the anime. Done for fma_fic_contest prompt 'second person POV'. (It tied for 3rd place)
Summary: An attempt to put the reader in Rose's shoes for a scene.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist copyright Hiromu Arakawa/Studio BONES and this derivative work was created without permission.


They come to you in ones and twos, and just start talking. You can't offer answers, since the words have been trapped in your throat since that day, but they don't want advice, you realize. Just someone to listen as they spin their tales.

The stories all sound the same: a litany of tragedies at the hands of a cruel world and its people. Some had put their hopes in Leto and Cornello, some claimed they had seen through it all at the start, some had gathered after, seeking the Holy Mother. You listen, wondering what they expect of you.

You were once in their shoes, clinging to the dream of a miracle to restore your heaven. After that hope failed, you were one of many people trying to keep a bit of order as the world fell into hell. But, now, all you can do is make sure the babe in your arms stays fed and comfortable.

Maybe that's what they want, to be like the child. To know that the world beyond your face and arms is of little importance, to have you standing between them and the world.

But, this isn't something you can give them. An ear and a comforting nod is one thing. Being a Holy Mother is another. You do not want to be another Cornello for these people, even if only by omission. You can't grant them grace, and the hope you give them is a fragile thing built on the sands of the desert outside the town. Soon the gales from Amestris will scatter it to the four corners of this earth. But, you cannot say this, and the scarred Ishabllan who has become your protector does not seem to notice or care that you are just a girl yourself.

You wonder what Edward would make of these people. He'd probably draw himself up, and yell at them to solve their own problems instead of coming in supplication to the plaster saint hiding a fellow refugee. Edward hadn't let you be carried by your faith. He hadn't let Lior be carried by Leto.

Some might think it was because Edward was opposed to con-men, but not you. Even if Cornello had been sincere, Edward would have still railed against him. As he told you, you had to keep moving forward as long as you had feet to walk on. He had knocked you out of the stasis of Leto's arms where you waited for the world to improve, but he then offered a hand up. The rest he left to you.

You don't want to be these people's Holy Mother. You don't know how to be these people's Holy Mother. You do want to be these people's Fullmetal Alchemist, but you don't know how to do that either.