well, this was something i had not attempted before- a songfic request. but it was a request from a dear friend, so i did my best. i also have never written anything from this characters POV, so let me know what you think. i love reviews. flames though are, with all due pomp and ceremony, given to Colonel Mustang. -fireun

lyrics used, by request,are from "Without You", from Rent.

"Without you
The ground thaws
The rain falls
The grass grows"

It was always disorienting to wake alone after dreams of being held tight. It was a disappointment that surged to the foreground each day, a burning unhappiness that would settle back into a dull familiar ache as she wiped the grainy sleep from her eyes. The gentle, loamy smell of spring drifted in with a chill, but not quite uncomfortably so, breeze, just a hint of the slowly turning season. 'Another year already…'

There were some things that a mother could not indulge in, and sitting in bed moping was one of them. She swung her legs out from under worn, comfortable blankets, wincing at the uncomfortable pull and pain that had become far too commonplace, and pulled off her night gown, and on one of her favorite dresses. He had always liked that one…

"Without you
The seeds root
The flowers bloom
The children play"

She could hear them talking quietly in their room, young voices piping in the inept whisper of the young. They never failed to make her smile, those children of hers.

"Edward, Alphonse, I am up. What would you like for breakfast?"

She heard Ed's whoop of delight, he was always a hungry child, and Al's slightly more restrained but no less honest exclamation. Both children hurled themselves out of their room, only just managing to open the door before pelting through it, and landing firmly into their familiar greeting of clinging to her dress and legs.

Ed tilted his face upwards, beaming. "Pancakes!"

"Pancakes." Al agreed, ignoring the tongue his brother stuck out after muttering a playful "copycat!"

"Pancakes it is then." She laughed, mussing the hair of one child, then the other. Her boys. Her treasures.

"The stars gleam
The poets dream
The eagles fly
Without you"

She sent the boys out to play for a bit, and set to work in the kitchen. It was impossible to cook with them in there, Ed constantly wanting to help out and Al eternally curious as to exactly what she was doing. A glance at the stove reassured her that the dried flower that has rested there for years was still firmly in its place, even as the motion set her head spinning. The disorientation and the headaches were getting worse, this past month or so. She made a mental note to talk to a doctor soon. Maybe Pinako would watch the boys for her for an afternoon if she made an appointment.

Outside Ed howled, most likely losing some argument or another to his younger brother. They got along so well, all the tussles and scrapes they got into just a piece of what it was to grow up close to ones brother.

She wished he was there to see them. He would be proud. Or at least amused. His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"The earth turns
The sun burns
But I die
Without you"

She didn't finish the pancakes before the boys herded themselves back inside, lured by the smell of cooking. They settled in their seats at the table, appearing patient if one did not notice the look of anticipation glittering in each of their eyes. She let out a chuckle, watching the way Ed leaned into and over the table, almost as if trying to get a better vantage point from which to watch the impending approach of the breakfast delicacy. The chuckle turned into a dry gasping cough for a moment before she managed to suck in a breath deep enough to attempt to calm down her struggling lungs.

"Without you
The breeze warms
The girls smile
The cloud moves"

"Ma? Ma? Are you alright?" Al was at her side, his eyes anxious, and pancakes forgotten.

The pancakes!

She lunged forward, pulling the frying pan from the stove, effectively saving breakfast. The pancakes only a little singed, herself only a little worse for the wear, she managed to get the boys settled with their breakfasts, after reassuring Al that she was, in fact, fine.

She watched her boys eat, munching half heartedly on her own meal, a small smile ghosting across her face. Ed launched into his pancakes, pointedly ignoring the milk she had poured him. Al, while a little more apt in the realm of table manners, didn't lack at all in enthusiasm.

Her boys…

Ed looked up at her, maybe sensing her mood, gold eyes inquisitive. He looked so much like his father sometimes, solemnly intent.

"It's alright, Ed. Are the pancakes tasty?"

The look in his eyes informed her that he didn't believe a word he was saying, but he nodded and stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth, an eloquent response to her question.

"Without you
The tides change
The oceans crash"

"We're going over to Winry's." Ed decided immediately following their midmorning feast. He waved for Al to follow and trotted out the door. She smiled, watching their retreating forms.

As soon as they were out of sight her face fell. It was just so damn quiet in the house, so unbearably quiet. The little sounds his studying had produced, the rustle of papers or the more eclectic muffled chinks and clanks that had drifted out of his lab were glaringly absent in these quiet times when the boys were gone.

She wandered out, arms heavy with a basket of laundry that the boys seemed to dirty by some sort of childhood magic. Her little garden was giving a valiant attempt at greeting the spring, little green shoots just starting to pry their way through ground just starting to thaw.

"The crowd roars
The days soar
The babies cry
Without you"

She loved flowers. It had been the one thing about her that he had always managed to exploit in an almost old fashioned sort of elegance. There had, unfailingly, been flowers for her every day. Even in the depths of winter. There had always been color in her days, a bit of life even in the most oppressive atmospheres.

He would surprise her with them at the oddest of moments, at times when she hadn't even noticed him wandering off or coming in. He seemed to genuinely enjoy surprising her, and it always did. He never established any sort of pattern, and the gifting never became routine- there was a gleam in his eyes when he brought her things that never allowed those moments to grow stale.

"The moon glows
The river flows
But I die
Without you"

Her days were full of housework, yard work, keeping track of her sons and all the other things women found in life to take up time when they were determined not to notice its passing. Or the things they were missing.

She was a study of domestic intensity, folding the last bit of now dry laundry, when her children came home. She could hear their laughing as they tromped along the road towards the house.

"Ma! Ma!" Ed sounded sublimely smug, Al's voice echoing his brother sounded excited. She glanced up to see just want it was that had the boys so wound up. What met her eyes made her face split into an adoring smile. Ed was running her way, a few early snowdrop flowers clutched in one hand. Al followed with a handful of his own.

"Without you
The hand gropes
The ear hears
The pulse beats"

"What would I do without you two?" She murmured, pulling them into a tight hug as she knelt. They were panting with exertion and excitement, and obviously very proud of themselves.

"Auntie Pinako wants us to come over for dinner." Al piped up after a long moment of silence in which each member of the small family clung to the others.

"That's nice of her. Did you make sure to say thank you?"
"Of course, Ma. We are big kids." Ed's voice was thick with childish affront.

"Well then, let me wash up for a moment and we will all walk over together." She stood, biting her lip slightly at the tightness in her chest that she hoped was due to overwhelming emotion, and made her way to the kitchen.

"Without you
The eyes gaze
The legs walk
The lungs breathe"

Pinako doted on her and the boys, which made life at once easier and a bit harder. She hated seeing the concern in the older woman's eyes as she sized her up, gauging how she was doing. "I'm fine." She would reassure, as always. And as always Pinako expressed her disagreement in a sort of snort, but would say nothing more. Ed and Al would play and fuss along side Winry, and the two women would clean up the remains of dinner, conversation usually straying only once or twice towards a topic that usually caused more distress than it was worth but was part of the ritual.

"Any word?"

"None at all." She would notice the look on Pinako's face and attempt to diffuse the bomb, as always. "It's alright. I'm sure he will send word as soon as he is able."

"Hell if that can be soon enough at this point, girl." Pinako would mutter from around her long pipe, and then ignore the topic altogether.

"The mind churns
The heart yearns
The tears dry
Without you"

It was most likely her blasé attitude that troubled the older woman, but she found it hard to react in any other way. The tears had been spent years ago, when the wound was fresh. What point would weeping have now? It would only upset the boys, and Ed and Al didn't need that. She didn't need them to worry over a situation that would resolve itself in due time.

But, as she crawled back into bed that evening, as with every evening since then, she rolled over and her chest clenched. There was just too much space in the bed, space that should be taken up by her husband's comfortingly large form. She wanted those strong arms around her, his breathing in her ear. She missed the unique smell of him, a mix of musk, chemicals, and a delicate perfume. She missed his smile, his deep booming laugh.

She missed him, but she had to be patient, strong…she had her children to look after. Their children. And one day he would be back for them. And she would be waiting. He promised. She promised.

"Life goes on
But I'm gone
Cause I die"

Al would still ask after his father every now and then, his eyes innocently hopeful. It was Ed who worried her, the way his eyes darkened and his face twisted at the mere mention of Hohenheim. But what could she say, how could she explain in a way so young a mind could understand, no matter how brilliant?

She hugged the pillow Hohenheim had used every night he had lived there, spooning her body tight around it, pressed her face against cloth so as to deny the tears that wanted to flow. Remember the times he had been there. Remember the words, the promise…and then fall into an uneasy sleep.

"Without you"

"I love you, Trisha."