halfamoon | Fic - Tattered Hearts, Fullmetal Alchemist

Tattered Hearts
Author –

cornerofmadness
Disclaimer- all rights belong to Arakawa
Fandom – Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters - Chris and Roy Mustang
Timeline – pre-series
Warnings – Spoilers for Roy’s relationship to Madam Christmas and spoilers for the third profiles book
Summary – She would have to take care of him now
Word Count – 800

* * *
The tears fell like there was no end to the well that formed them. Chris threw her head back, raggedly sucking in a deep breath. She had to find a calming thought. She could indulge her grief later, in private. At the moment, someone very special needed her.

For years, Chris had raised orphans with talent, spreading her mother’s business far beyond Central’s limits. She loved children, loved seeing them play and learn and grow into strong people. She had four of her own but all except her daughter, Hope, had died within weeks of birth.

Chris took on the unwanted and unlucky children of the world. She couldn’t foster them all and Chris hated that she was limited to picking only the most talented of the ones that crossed her path because all of the kids needed someone. She did the best she could within limits of reason.

The newest child to come into her home was currently in her daughter’s room, reading a book he should have been too young to understand. He was different than all the rest and not just in his ability to tune out Hope’s chatter. Little Roy was barely five and so smart but Chris wasn’t sure he understood what had happened. What child truly understood that the parents they loved would never be home again: They would never hold him again, never read him to sleep, that is was all over.

Damn, this shouldn’t be happening. Spenser should still be alive. Her brother was one of the most vivacious men Chris had ever known. He took the natural-born acting talent they both inherited from their mother and translated it to the silver screen. His wife was a green alchemist from Xing who ran the tea house they had met at. Hai had been so proud of her son when he started paging through her alchemy books, almost as soon as he began to really read. Chris’s brother couldn’t have loved his son more.

And now they were both gone. A deranged fan of Spenser’s movies killed them in what should have been the sanctuary of their house. By a twist of luck, the woman hadn’t seen Roy. The screams of the dying couple had brought the neighbors but not before Chris’s nephew saw bloody death all around him. The fan had gotten away but she would not escape the reaches of Chris’s organization. She would be found and dealt with.

But for now, Chris had to take her anger and her grief and shelve them until she took care of a little boy who needed her desperately. There was a certain strength in women that people underestimated. They were able to withstand so much and it was her turn to withstand a little more.

Chris washed her face, checked to be sure her appearance wasn’t too haggard. Roy had enough frights already. There was no need to add to it. Hope glanced up at her when Chris entered the room. Chris nodded toward the door and her young daughter, barely older than Roy, left.

Chris sat on the bed with Roy. He set the book down, looking up at her with those exotic slanted eyes of his mother’s. She stroked his cheek, reading all the confusion in those dark pools. “How are you, Roy boy?” The question was inane, she knew, but he might wonder if she didn’t ask.

He leaned against her. “Aunt Chris, why were Mommy and Daddy sleeping and not waking up?”

The tears threatened to spill again. Chris bit them back. Before she could answer, he added a question, “They were wet with red stuff, like when I fell and hit my head on the table. It bled so much.” Roy’s lips pulled into a solemn line.

Chris put her arms around him. “They’re safe now, Roy, where no on can hurt them. They’re going to sleep next to each for a long time. And you’ll be living with me. Does that sound all right?”

“Why?”

Chris sucked in her bottom lip. She had rehearsed her answer but now it had flown out of her mind. “Because your mom and dad wanted you to in case something happened to them.”

His little hand went around her middle, which had gotten too soft and doughty from fine dining and wine with clients and those she spied on. “They aren’t sleeping, are they?”

She stroked his hair. “No, baby boy.”

“Are they dead?”

“They are. They’re someplace better than here, watching out for you.” She managed to choke out the words. Chris could no longer control the tears.

“I want them here,” he whimpered, crying now.

“So do I, baby boy.”

Everyone told her she was a powerful woman. If she had so much power, why couldn’t she fix this?