Title: Because He Left

Summary: A vivid dream brings back the past, making Edward how much pain he feels every Father's Day since he had rashly wrecked his father's study. One shot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist.

IIIII

The hatred you're carrying is a live coal in your heart - far more damaging to yourself than to them - Lawana Blackbell

IIIII

"Edward Elric!" The rare stern tone used in my mother's voice rings out to me from the front of the room. "What are you doing?"

In a last exhibition of rebellion I kick one of the books away from me. It opens, falling onto it's back against a pile of books that I have thrown hastily from the shelves in my show of rage.

"Edward please do not do that to your father's books," She says more softly hoping that I will calm along with her.

I refuse to. I exclaim loudly, "It's not like he'll ever use them again!"

"Don't say that. Your brother may hear you."

"What? Don't want him to ever see that Dad left us alone? I think he knows that already, Mom."

My fists unclench when I can recognize the look in her eyes. It tells me that she doesn't even know when my father will ever return, if ever, and me telling her this is only making it all the harder. She must feel more lonesome than us. She knew him for much longer than I ever had.

"I didn't--I mean, I'm not upset with you," I say in an attempt to make that frown she wears when she's disappointed, or sad, disappear. It doesn't work. "I just can't stand him."

"What made you so upset?" She walks into the room, kneeling to my height. I'm short now but I'm only eight. Mom says that I should have a growth spurt when I become older.

"It's Fathers Day!" I say as though it should be obvious.

"You've never gotten this upset over it," Mom tells me.

I shrug, not saying a word.

"Ed? Can you look me in the eyes, please?"

She puts a gentle hand underneath my chin and pulls my head slowly up so I can look at her. I don't want to because I know what she is going to say.

"I know you're sad but please don't give up hope. Your father may still be out there."

"I'm tired of waiting," I huff. "I want a real dad. I want the other kids to shutup!"

"Other kids?" She questions.

Oh. Exactly what I didn't want to explain.

"I know that Alphonse was crying earlier but he said that he had gotten some hay in his eye. I know it was an excuse, you both were never very good at making them," She smiles lightly. Her hair falls around her face, a gentleness about her, making her look so calm even though she is upset. "Can you please tell me what they said?"

She lets go of my chin and I look away immediately. I scowl deeply as I tell her what had happened earlier that afternoon.

"Thomas and Vince were picking on us. I tried to ignore them but then they started talking about Dad." My fists roll up once again as I recall the anger I had felt surge inside of me at the very thought of him. "They said that we must have been really bad sons to make him go away like that. That we were useless without a father."

"Oh, sweetheart, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

I shake my head. "It's his fault. He's the one that left us. We weren't bad, were we?" I look up at her looking for an answer within her kind eyes.

She hugs me then and I know that she wants to cry. I know that I don't have any control over what emotions go through her but I want to make the pain go away. I want to take the burden from her and place it onto my shoulders. I know that I can't and that hurts me more than anything.

Not only did Dad make Al cry but now he was making Mom cry too.

"Son please do not believe those children." She pulls away so she can look at me. Although tears are pooling her eyes there is a bravery in her voice that demands me to listen. "They were only trying to hurt you in the worst way. It is not anyone's fault here that your father is not home. It is not your fault. You didn't do anything to deserve his absence. Do you understand me?"

I nod mindlessly.

"Good because your father loved you. Both you and Al. I know you don't believe it, and you may not like him at the moment, but I saw the way he looked at you. His eyes would light up because you were there."

My hatred swells still in the pit of my stomach as I listen to her. Although I would love to believe her I can't help but feel so much anger towards the man who is supposed to be my father. I find it hard to accept that a man who had loved me would abandon both of his children, and his loving wife, and never look back. I bet right now he doesn't even think of his sons. He doesn't even think twice about Father's Day!

"I hate him!" I snarl. "I hate him so much!"

"Edward you know that we do not use that word around here."

I break away from the hold she has on my shoulders and start to kick books, not caring that underneath my shoes my toes are aching from so much force put upon them. My mantra of "I hate him" grows more extreme and I yell it one final time before I throw a book across the room and it crashes into a framed picture of my father, me, an infant Al, and mother.

I stop cold. So does Mom.

Al comes running in, concerned from the all the commotion. "Mom? Nii-san?"

"It's okay," says Mom. She stands up but does not say a punishment. All she does is start to pick up the various alchemy books I had strewn across the floor.

"Did you do this?" Al asks with awe.

I merely shrug. I feel empty inside as though all of my power had been taken away. I don't even bother helping Mother although I know that I should. I was the one who made the mess, after all. Instead I sit on the floor fiddling with the dirt on my hands. I had left the part out where I had swung at Thomas for calling me a snot-nosed brat. He had pushed me onto the ground but I had caught myself. They were scraped too and the sand burned.

"You need to wash your hands," Al said suddenly. I hadn't even noticed that he walked over. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." There was no need to worry him.

Some minutes later Mom, and Al who had joined in, was done putting books back into place. I didn't feel as empty as before but, in place of it, now sad that I had said I hated him. Not because I didn't - he didn't deserve anything but hate - but because I had made Mom so stunned that she did not speak a word to me.

Plus there is the picture. I get up from my place on the floor and start to pick up pieces of glass. I set them on the desk and look at the picture carefully. I don't even gaze at my father's face, I don't want to recognize him any longer, but I stare at who he's holding. A little me. I'm smiling too so I must have enjoyed having him hold me but right now I can only feel frustration that he isn't here to hold me.

"I don't remember Dad," I admit loud enough for Mom to her. "I think I liked him but I don't know."

"I know you did," Mom softly asserts. She kisses my forehead and I feel warm inside. "Now you should clean up your hands before they get infected. Hurry now to the bathroom."

As I walked down the hall I heard footsteps behind me. Al was following me, of course, and when I looked over my shoulder I could see that he was upset still. I went into the bathroom and started to clean my hands when suddenly Al hugged me. I was a bit taken back, and wasn't able to hug back with my hands wet, so I just smiled down at him.

"I don't remember him either," He says sadly. His head is on my shoulder but his eyes are downcast towards our feet.

"You were only a baby."

"I wish I did."

"He was probably a jerk."

"Mom wouldn't marry a jerk," He counters.

I shrug and shut off the faucet. He lets go and I ruffle his hair. "Atleast we still have Mom. That's all we need, really."

"She'll never leave us like Dad did."

"Yeah, I know."

IIIII

That was one heck of a dream.

I hate those, when I wake up in the middle of the night looking as though I've seen a ghost. The actuality is that - technically - I have seen a ghost. Mother. In my dreams she is as vivid as ever and I'm not sure if I want to go back to sleep for the fear I have of re-living past moments.

That day was seared into my mind for two reasons.

One: I have loathed Father's Day since. I had hardly thought about how lonely I was beforehand, until those morons decided to remind Al and I with the harsh reality.

Two: Although she never meant to, she did leave us behind.

I look outside the window next to my bed and wonder where my father is. It's Father's Day once again, which had brought on the dream, and my feelings still remain the same.

Because he left, he brought sorrow upon our family.

Because he left, Mom died grieving for him.

Because he left, causing Mom to die, Al and I did a human transmutation that was unforgivable and ruined what little we had left.

I will accept responsibility but I want him to feel this weight I have been dragging around with me. One day I will get Al's body back, and mine wholly flesh, and it will be without him by my side.

I hate him not for who he is, because I cannot remember that, but for what he has done to his own flesh and blood. Still it is hate all the same.

I dispise him. It's as simple as that.

IIIII

So angsty.

Reviews PLEASE?