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The sliding door of his modest apartment’s balcony was open letting in the cool evening breeze. The radio played quietly from its corner, that evening tuned to a county music station. It wasn’t one that often held time on the dial for him but he’d been in the mood for something different than the classical or the jazz stations he typically listened to. Maybe he just wanted to escape the nostalgia.
Sitting in his chair by the door, an ash tray with a half burned through cigarette resting in it, Edward looked out over the city he now called home. The light chill of the air had him thinking that he wasn’t long off of his hundredth birthday, not that he particularly cared to count at this point in his life. One hundred wasn’t so unusual for people to live to these days, though very few of them that made it that far appeared to only be in their seventies. Many times over the years he and Al had talked about how young he looked for his age, especially the older he’d gotten. It was actually glaringly obvious as Alphonse had started to look his age far sooner than he had. No, the point had been to escape thinking about the past, not remembering it.
Taking up his cigarette, he took a light drag, slowly letting the tobacco and nicotine fill his lungs. For years friends and family alike had said these things would likely kill him… at this point he could only wish that were true. Closing his eyes, he slowly let the smoke slip from his lips as the sounds of the music filled the room. At first the song didn’t grab him but as more of the words filtered into his mind and nested there, Edward began to feel his chest get tight.
He hadn’t wanted to think of the past but it seemed the past had other thoughts…
“Our lives are better left to chance… I could have missed the pain… but I’d have missed the dance…”
Images started to drift through his long memory and Edward caught himself feeling the sting of them behind his closed eyes.
“And now I’m glad I didn’t know… The way it all would end… The way it all would go…”
Edward couldn’t take this anymore. Getting up from the chair, he went and retrieved a rather ragged and worn, leather bound book from the drawer. The gold lettering had long since faded from the cover but the impression of the word still remained, ‘Photos’. As much as he’d wanted to fight nostalgia, it had won this round against him. Setting the book down on his table, he managed to catch the name of the song… and he wanted to hear it more now that it had caught him so completely.
Going to the radio, he flicked it off. Looking over at the computer his kids had insisted he needed, Edward stepped over to it flicking it on. If he wanted to hear the song again he knew this was the fastest way to accomplish that end. Thankfully he’d become pretty good at using it so when it fully came to life, he was easily able to search for the song and bring it up. After taking a minute to poke around, Edward figured out how to get the song to play repeatedly on the machine’s small speakers. Good enough.
With that, he went back over to his chair, pulling the old photo album over to him. As he flipped it open, he took one final pull from his cigarette before snuffing it out. He had a feeling though, this wouldn’t be the last one of those that this little trip down memory lane saw. Looking down, the first picture in the book was simply one of him and Alphonse not long after they had come here. Each page he flipped, his own eyes or Alphonse’s looked back at him. Sometimes it was just them, others with the various people they’d met and friends they’d made as they had travelled the world.
“Looking back on the memory of… the dance we shared ‘neath the stars above…”
The next set had him looking back at his wedding day and into eyes he’d lost going on forty years ago now. “Winry…” he said quietly as metal fingers drifted over the pages. She hadn’t been his childhood friend but she had been so close and her personality had been so much the same… he couldn’t help but have feelings for her in this world too.
Those pictures easily slid into pictures of their first son, then their daughter a few years later, and a few after that their youngest son. So many memories filled these pages… and the more the song played along with the photos before him, Edward could feel the sting of the tears getting more and more present. He was determined not to cry though. Taking another cigarette from his pack, he put it to his lips. Lighting it was the usual challenge as his left hand had started to feel the years, arthritis beginning to set into his joints. Once he did get it lit though, he turned his attention back to the book.
“For a moment all the world was right…”
Each page had photos of him and Winry, photos of the kids as they had grown, and photos of Alphonse and his family. Things had been so good then, not easy, but good none the less. For the first time Edward had felt like maybe his life was finally normal, finally right.
“How could I have known you’d ever say good-bye?”
Everything had changed not long after that though. First Winry had fallen ill and not long after he’d lost her much like he had his own mother. She’d had a cold that seemed to never get better. At first she had resisted going to a doctor, claiming over and over that it was just a persistent cold but he’d finally put his foot down and made her go to the doctor. Not long after, the cancer that had over taken her lungs took her from this world. If hadn’t been for his kids and Alphonse, well Edward was sure he’d have made it through that time. Remembering it actually had him looking down at the cigarette between his fingers. He didn’t know how many times over the years he’d been told to give them up because it was likely he’d follow Winry if he didn’t. There were days he wished…
At this point, as he flipped through more family photos, now without Winry in them, Edward felt his chest getting tighter and the sting getting stronger. As each page went by, as his golden eyes fell on pictures of him and Alphonse, the progression of Al’s aging against his own became clearer and clearer in the few that held the brothers together until he got to the last picture of Alphonse in the photo album. It was a picture that had been taken of him and Alphonse at the party the kids had put together for Edward’s eightieth birthday. The years had shown plain in Alphonse’s eyes in that picture. Nearly seven months later, Alphonse was gone as well, age taking his younger brother from this world.
Edward had to stop flipping the pages of his memories at this point as the tears had started to fall. It was moments like this that had him missing his younger brother the most. Losing Alphonse had near completely broken him, so much so that for a short time he’d lived with his youngest son and his family. Having his family close though had helped Edward move on, the light of his grandson’s eyes and his friendly personality so much like that of Alphonse, had given him hope again.
Taking his cigarette, pulling more from it, Edward looked away from the old photo album now, out at the now dark city outside. The chill had gotten to be a bit much, a dull ache starting to form in his ports from it. Getting up, he went to the door, but he hesitated in closing it…
“Holding you I held everything… For a moment wasn’t I a king… But if I’d only known how the king would fall… Hey who’s to say…You know… I might have changed it all…”
The words caught Edward off guard. With all the times the song had played over, this was the first time the words had actually completely registered in his mind sending the sharpest prang of sadness through him yet.
Closing the door finally, Edward went back over to the table, snuffing out his cigarette as he sat back down. There was one last photo in the album, one tucked in the very back and had been since he’d gotten the album almost eighty years ago. It wasn’t held down to the pages of the album like all of the rest and its edges were tattered and there were faint creases in it but the faces in the image were still crystal clear.
This was the most painful piece of nostalgia of them all in this book. There were so many stories to this one picture, the only remaining memory he had of a world and a life that seemed so far away now. He and this photograph were the only remaining ‘aliens’ in this world. As he ran his flesh fingers over the faces, he remembered how he’d come to have this picture.
Alphonse had given it to him when they’d decided to leave Germany. He’d kept it tucked tightly in the inside pocket of his coat the year leading up until they had finally met again. The picture had originally been in a frame in Mustang’s office, left behind after the day that had changed all of their lives forever. It had then ended up in Riza’s possession until she had run into Alphonse in Central. Al had said that Riza had said it was probably best if he hold onto it even if he didn’t remember that time. It was a photo of Edward and Alphonse while still in the armor as well as Mustang and his team. Seeing it Edward remembered instantly when the photograph had been taken. Hughes had insisted while he’d been at Eastern Command. It was the only time that Edward found himself grateful for that man’s insane need to take pictures.
“Holding you I held everything… For a moment wasn’t I a king… But if I’d only known how the king would fall… Hey who’s to say…You know… I might have changed it all…”
In the background the words played again and Edward let his fingers run over one face in particular. There was no eye patch in this picture, the face as perfect as it had been when… when he’d first fallen for that bastard. In the picture, Roy had insisted on resting his elbow on his head. At the time he’d wanted to deck Roy for being an asshole like that but now… now he’d give anything to have even that little bit of contact with him. As much as he’d loved Winry, it hadn’t been the same as when he’d been with Roy. Nothing about that relationship was ‘right’ though but Edward hadn’t cared, Roy had been his first love despite how things had started and he’d never forgotten him and knew he never would.
Clenching his eyes shut, the light streams that had just started to dry up began to run in over flowing. It didn’t help that as Edward remembered the stolen times with Roy, the thought that even if he COULD see him again, could get back to Amestris, it was all too likely that Roy and all of the faces in that old picture were already gone had him nearly sobbing. Here he was, nearly a hundred years old and crying like a child. He’d outlived everyone from his old life and he feared he’d outlive his own children and perhaps even his own grandchildren if his theories were correct.
As he sat there, his hands now over his face, the tears leaking out from around his palms, the song started over, playing one last time before Edward would have enough and stop it… it’s words ringing even more true now.
”Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I a king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd have had to miss the dance”
With everything that had happened, even with how painful it had been at so many times in his long life, Edward knew that no matter what he wouldn’t have traded a moment.