Wellaway

By: murcuh

Rating: T

Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Family/Supernatural (but totally not supposed to be gut-wrenching, but kind of happy sad, if that makes any sense at all)

Summary: They've left, but they're not really gone.

A/N: Oh my goodness, I sobbed while typing out this whole entire thing. It's one o'clock in the morning and I read an article about this Iowa couple who were married for 72 years and they died while holding hands (If you Google "Iowa couple dies holding hands" it's the first result, the one from ABCnews). That was my inspiration and I just felt the need to convey it to this and I am so emotional right now. Wellaway means "expression of sorrow or lamentation."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Weathered hands clasp tightly together. His right, her left. This is it.

"I'll wait for you." He says, giving her fingers a squeeze.

"I don't think I can do it." She whispers, a tear slipping down her aged cheek.

He smiles gently at her, the lines on his wizened face crinkling, "I know you can. You're the strongest woman I know."

More tears fill her eyes, "Please don't leave me."

"I'm right here. I always have been. Don't let go of my hand." He encourages.

"I love you. I love you so much." She cries, clutching onto his hand tighter.

"You know I love you too." He replies, closing his tired eyes.

"If you go first, I'll kick your ass." She croaks, cutting off the circulation to his hand.

He lets out a small laugh, "That's my girl."

And then he's gone.

She moves his hand, "Did you go?" She asks, sorrow filling her heart.

He doesn't speak and she knows.

More tears slide over her cheeks and she shuts her faded eyes, "I'll be there soon." She whispers.

And then she's gone.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A cool breeze blows through the hometown where it all began. The crisp blue sky is clear with the occasional cotton tail cloud. All is quiet except for the funeral procession through the rolling green hills. One large, dark casket is being carried upon the shoulders of many men towards the familiar grave yard. A great long crowd full of familiars and strangers follows the coffin to the top of the knoll.

An elderly gentleman with graying, honey-colored hair leads the way gripping the hand of a smaller, older dark-haired woman. Once the casket is in place, everyone gathers around, waiting for the man to speak. He steadily walks to the highest point and clears his throat, "Friends. Family. Everyone who has come out on this day. We have come together from all reaches of this earth to pay our respects. It brings us much sadness to say goodbye to our dear ones, but they are not gone. They live on through the lives they have touched and the wisdom they have left behind. Their spirits are at peace and they will continue to watch over us." The man pauses and retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket. He proceeds to dab his eyes in one swipe before continuing.

"Brother was the strongest person that I knew. He would have given up his life for me. Our bond is stronger than blood and I know he's doing okay, I feel it in the depths of my achy bones. He's up there with the woman he spent his whole life with, our parents, and dearly departed friends. I know I will always miss him, but I know I will see him again. He had a difficult life filled with adversity and hardships, but he overcame them all and pushed through with determination and courage. He was an inspiration and I have looked up to him all my life. Brother was truly a hero, whether he acknowledged it or not. He saved this country by uncovering the malicious intent beneath and conquering it. With the help of our friends, we managed to rescue Amestris, and without him, we probably wouldn't be standing here today." Another pause as the gentleman holds his hand over his heart, but his voice does not waver. It is loud in the crisp air.

"Winry was the one we always could come back to. She accepted our flawed hearts with open arms. She gave us a home to be able to return to, gave us legs to stand on. And for that I am thankful. I am glad that Brother and Winry have spent their lives together. They built up their house and for many years they stayed side by side. Their children went on to have children of their own. Those children also went on to have children. The Elric bloodline is not lost and will never be forgotten. There's a little bit of Brother and Winry in all of us – whether it's by knowledge or automail – there's something tethering us all together." A breeze ruffles his hair, skimming over his face, and he smiles like it's the comfort of an old friend.

"I would tell you not to weep, for we will see them again, but it is such a difficult thing to do. So please cry, cry because they are no longer on this earth in their flesh bodies, but sitting happily in the heavens, looking back on their fulfilling lives. Cry because they died together, holding hands. There is no need for two caskets, for they were together in life and now in death. They have set an example for us and I know they would not want us to be sad, but to be happy for them. They're embarking on a new journey now, one we will all must take." The man stands a little straighter.

"Brother always did love adventure." The last word rings strong as he closes his eyes, turning his face to the sky.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"That Alphonse sure can give a good speech." Edward muses, staring down at Resembool. He waves his fingers and the wind brushes by Al.

Winry rests her head on his shoulder, "He makes our death sound valiant."

Edward looks at her, smirking, "We are valiant. I was the Fullmetal Alchemist remember? And like Al said, I saved Amestris. And you were a famous automail mechanic and mother of our beautiful children."

Winry swats a hand at him, "Alright, you can have your hero's death." She smiles.

He grins, placing a kiss on her forehead, "Come on, we have catching up to do." He takes her hand and they turn to a lush, open field where people are waiting for them.

"I'm nervous." Winry whispers as they walk closer to the edge. She gazes around until she sees two familiar blonde haired adults. Her heart picks up speed.

"You know what? I am too." He replies, squeezing her hand. He thinks it's a trick of the light, but there she is, there's Trisha.

Together they walk to the familiar faces of parents loved and lost, fallen comrades, and memorable ranking officers.

It's a brand new journey.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\