FicWad

f they never see the color again it will be too soon. Blood that poured from an open wound, death disguised as eternal life that dribbled into an untended cut -- so shallow to be so deep. (But he would have died if he hadn't taken it in, and he needs her to understand that he took this risk in order to fight for one more day. She needs him to know that she doesn't need to understand; she only wishes she'd been there, whole and able to be whatever he needed.)

It is the color of the alchemist's cloak that flutters in the wind behind him as he dashes off, leaving his brother behind with her. They do not like being left behind; they are the guardians for these impulsive, brash youths. But it is necessary, and while Lan Fan cannot help but hope the palette of her life blends all shades but one, she knows it is the color Alphonse looks for every day. Still, she hates the color red.

It is the color of waiting.