Fic - "The Primrose Path"
Title: The Primrose Path
Author: colonel_bastard
Characters/Fandom: Shou Tucker, the future Mrs. Tucker. Fullmetal Alchemist [first anime].
Word Count: 2,114
Rating: PG
Summary: Gates are meant to be opened. She taught him that.
Warnings: Spoilers for the Tucker story arc. Hint of sex.
Notes: In the first anime, I figure Shou has performed enough human transmutations to have seen the Gate more than anyone. However, Sloth observes that even with the Philosopher's Stone, he doesn't have the strength to do anything about it. Written for the prompt "The Gate" at fma_fic_contest.
Her voice drifts back to him, a song on the wind.
“Keep up, slowpoke! What are you doing back there, counting the leaves?”
He laughs and waves at her, cherishing her silhouette against the sunlight, the dappled shadows playing across her golden hair. He is falling behind, and he feels a bit foolish for it. The truth is, he’s not quite as outdoorsy as he led her to believe. The extent of Shou Tucker’s experience in the wilderness has been lazy strolls in the park downtown. When Maggie suggested a walk in the forest on the outskirts of their university, he was picturing something a little more leisurely and a little less- taxing.
Within minutes of entering the woods, Maggie had taken his hand and pulled him off the trail. He hemmed and hawed in protest, stammered about how trails are there for a reason, but she just laughed and ran ahead, vanishing among the trees.
Panting, he braces a hand against the nearest trunk, his other hand on his knee, head dropped down towards the earth. His face is slick with sweat, and that combined with the angle pulls his glasses forward, sliding down the bridge of his nose.
“Shou?”
He looks up to see that Maggie has returned to him- she’s barely breathing hard, her pretty brow creased in concern. He manages a weak smile, too busy gasping for air to offer a proper response.
“My poor little scholar,” she smiles in return, removing his glasses before they fall off completely. “Now I see why you wanted to stay on the path.”
“It’s true, dearheart,” he wheezes. “I’m more suited for the library than the great outdoors.”
“Would you like to sit down, catch your breath?”
“I’ll be all right. Just a moment more in this humiliating position should be enough.”
After another minute of his comical stoop, he feels that he’s regained enough of himself and straightens his back- which emits a vaguely alarming crack. Maggie bursts out laughing. He swats at her and misses, his vision too compromised by the absence of his glasses.
“Such heartlessness!” He laments. “No sympathy for one crippled by the pursuit of knowledge!”
“If you balanced your time at the desk with some time in the forest,” she points out. “Then you wouldn’t have a back like one of your professors.”
“So you’re suggesting more walks?”
“Exactly!”
He swings again, not to strike, but to catch her in his arms. Although she could undoubtedly escape from him with ease, she pretends to stumble and allows herself to be captured. Her hands press against his chest and her face swims into his focus now that she’s close enough.
“If I’m with you,” he says quietly. “I won’t mind.”
He wants to kiss her. She wants him to do it. At the last moment, he turns his face away, chuckling nervously. She cuffs him on the back of the head, trying to hide her disappointment.
“Silly boy.”
“Yes, well,” he mumbles. “You’re right about that.”
With a gentle hand, she turns his face towards her again. He thinks that she might be the one to finally move things forward, but instead, she just slides his glasses back into their proper place.
“Come on,” she says kindly. “Let’s go back to the path.”
- - -
The first time he sees the Gate, he has just activated the array that will bind Maggie to the chimeras he has prepared. It’s a human transmutation, absolutely forbidden, and he’s not surprised that there could be consequences beyond comprehension. He struggles against it, his mind digging in and holding on, but the alchemic forces are too strong and his consciousness is ripped from him and thrown into the void.
White and endless, and there in the distance, a structure unlike anything he has ever seen- but he’s too far away.
And the Gate is closed.
- - -
It’s the last few yards that are the hardest, but suddenly he breaks through the bramble and practically tumbles onto the open trail. Maggie alights gracefully onto the road beside him, picking leaves from her hair, smoothing her bright summer dress.
“There you go, fuss-pot,” she grins. “A tidy little path for a tidy little boy.”
“I hope you still have an interest in continuing our walk,” he coughs bashfully. “Even if the scenery is not ideal.”
“I know a place,” she says coyly. “Follow me.”
She sets off down the trail, arms outstretched, fingertips brushing the foliage on the nearest side. She wears her hair loose and free, and at its longest point it brushes the swell of her dress that’s been pushed out by the curve of her backside. Her hair is same color that his mother’s was- but never mind that. He picks up his pace enough to match her and draws up alongside.
“Must I follow?” He wonders. “I’d rather walk beside you.”
“That’s all right, I suppose,” she breezes.
Spring is just fading into summer. She’s still waiting on the invitation to come and stay with him over the holiday. He’s still waiting for himself to muster up the courage. They walk side by side down the sun-speckled path, the warm air swimming around them, the future beckoning. She moves a little bit closer, allows her fingers to brush against his. With a sudden surge of bravery, he takes her hand.
- - -
The second time he sees the Gate, he has just activated the array that will bind Nina and Alexander into a perfect chimera. This time, his hold on his own mind is significantly weaker, and it slips away from him after only a split-second of resistance.
The structure is nearer this time. He can see it clearly- a Gate, huge and monstrous, pulsing with energy. He regards it from an uneasy distance, the absence of everything creating a whistling in his ears, his skin prickling as if from sudden cold.
He has no desire to open it.
- - -
The land around them turns more and more to open country. Trees are replaced by wildflowers, the shade by open sunlight. Shou wants to shield his eyes, but since Maggie doesn’t, he doesn’t. Her hand is small and warm in his. He has a strange urge to squeeze it, to prove that she’s here, but he resists and forces himself to be content with just this.
He notices a low stone wall running alongside the trail, reaching only up to his knees. As they walk, it gets higher, until it reaches up to his hip and levels out. The field beyond must be private property, and the owner has no intention of letting the youth from the university help themselves to his land. Maggie brushes the back of her hand along the rough stone and hums at the texture. It causes her to shiver and clutch Shou’s hand just a little bit tighter.
When they reach the gate in the wall, Maggie strolls towards it without hesitation.
Shou pulls his hand away and falls back. “I don’t think we should.”
“But look at the wildflowers out there!” She gestures. “That’s where I want to be.”
“There’s a wall,” he points out. “We’re not meant to pass.”
“There’s also a gate,” she argues.
“It’s not ours.”
There’s an uncertain moment. The field beyond the wall is so, so green. Maggie’s eyes are so, so beautiful. She walks towards him, and he can feel his pulse speed up, as panic explodes in his chest and his palms break out in a sweat. She’s so close. He can smell her perfume- the scent that he bought for her birthday, the one she asked for so often. Her hand settles on his chest as if to soothe his desperate heart.
“Come here,” she murmurs, and when he leans close enough, she kisses him.
Thank goodness for instinct- his scholarly mind is no good to him anymore. His body takes over, his hands finding their own way around her, his mouth responding to hers in a harmony that he’s never known.
When she pulls away, she taps a finger against his lips.
“All gates are meant to be opened,” she whispers. “Otherwise they wouldn’t exist.”
- - -
The third time he sees the Gate, he has just activated the array meant to bring his daughter back to life. The words of the past are burned into his brain. This is meant to be. It’s still so far, but this time, he runs for it. It glides away, impossible to approach.
The fourth time he see the Gate, he gets a little closer.
The fifth- the sixth- the seventh- eventually he loses count. He just knows that he’s getting nearer every time. He drags himself on hands and knees, uses fingernails and teeth and everything he can to pull himself closer inch by inch. The distance is too great.
- - -
They go deep into the field. Maggie was right- the blooms are incredible, every color, every type, as far as the eye can see. She runs ahead, waist-deep in wildflowers, and he follows at his own pace, marveling at her, just the sight of her, the sound of her, the knowledge that she wants him to follow. Looking back over his shoulder, he realizes that they have passed out of sight of the road. There’s nothing around them but earth and sky.
When he looks back, Maggie has vanished. Worry stings him like an insect. He calls her name, speeds up, and as he crests the hill where he saw her last, something grabs him by the wrist and yanks him off balance. He lands hard in the grass and looks up into Maggie’s smiling face.
“Alone at last,” she giggles.
“Madame, is this an attempt on my virtue?” He jokes feebly, scared out of his wits.
“You bet your ass it is, Mr. Tucker.”
She kisses him again, deeper, more insistent than before. He responds, arching his back to meet her, and as her nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, his frantic mind goes finally, blessedly blank. There’s only silence within him, silence and heat, and he knows at last what he must do.
“I want you to stay with me,” he pants, mouth against her neck. “This summer. Come stay with me, I don’t want to be apart.”
“Yes,” she agrees, overjoyed. “Yes, I will.”
He rolls her onto her back. Her fair hair splays through the green grass like sunlight, spreading around her head and shoulders, surrounding her with a pool of gold. He aches to be near her. Her bright summer dress has pushed up to her waist. Fear freezes him, until she takes his hands and places them between her knees.
“Go on,” she whispers. “Open.”
Tenderly, he presses outwards, and her thighs part at his touch. There she is. His breath catches in his throat. As she pulls him down on top of her, his mouth finds hers. It’s already familiar. It’s already where he wants to stay.
- - -
By the time he reaches the Gate, he’s barely half a man. He has just activated the array meant to bring his daughter back to life, only this time, he has used Alphonse Elric as his Philosopher’s Stone. It can’t escape him anymore. Now, he’s face to face with it at last.
It’s still closed.
He throws himself at it. He pulls and pushes and digs and claws. He hisses and spits and screams and begs. It remains as it always has, silent and unmoveable, utterly indifferent to him no matter what he tries. The longer he struggles, the more his sanity slips away- he can feel it draining out of him, thought by thought. It doesn’t matter. If he can just- make- this- work- Only once, that’s all he asks. It only has to open once.
If he had a choice, he would stay in the void forever. He would stay until he finally found the way to unlock the Gate and repair the terrible damage he’s done. But it doesn’t work that way, and he feels his consciousness slipping away from him, spiraling back towards the wretched body that has become his walking punishment. A final glimpse of the cursed structure remains seared into his vision long after he comes to his senses in the factory.
His joke of a body is intact. His mind is not. It wasn’t enough. As he cradles the shell of his daughter and speaks to her as though she can hear his voice, he can almost trick himself into believing that it worked. Deep down, he knows it didn’t. Deep down, he has finally realized that yes, the Gate is meant to be opened.
Just not by him.
_________end.
Author: colonel_bastard
Characters/Fandom: Shou Tucker, the future Mrs. Tucker. Fullmetal Alchemist [first anime].
Word Count: 2,114
Rating: PG
Summary: Gates are meant to be opened. She taught him that.
Warnings: Spoilers for the Tucker story arc. Hint of sex.
Notes: In the first anime, I figure Shou has performed enough human transmutations to have seen the Gate more than anyone. However, Sloth observes that even with the Philosopher's Stone, he doesn't have the strength to do anything about it. Written for the prompt "The Gate" at fma_fic_contest.
Her voice drifts back to him, a song on the wind.
“Keep up, slowpoke! What are you doing back there, counting the leaves?”
He laughs and waves at her, cherishing her silhouette against the sunlight, the dappled shadows playing across her golden hair. He is falling behind, and he feels a bit foolish for it. The truth is, he’s not quite as outdoorsy as he led her to believe. The extent of Shou Tucker’s experience in the wilderness has been lazy strolls in the park downtown. When Maggie suggested a walk in the forest on the outskirts of their university, he was picturing something a little more leisurely and a little less- taxing.
Within minutes of entering the woods, Maggie had taken his hand and pulled him off the trail. He hemmed and hawed in protest, stammered about how trails are there for a reason, but she just laughed and ran ahead, vanishing among the trees.
Panting, he braces a hand against the nearest trunk, his other hand on his knee, head dropped down towards the earth. His face is slick with sweat, and that combined with the angle pulls his glasses forward, sliding down the bridge of his nose.
“Shou?”
He looks up to see that Maggie has returned to him- she’s barely breathing hard, her pretty brow creased in concern. He manages a weak smile, too busy gasping for air to offer a proper response.
“My poor little scholar,” she smiles in return, removing his glasses before they fall off completely. “Now I see why you wanted to stay on the path.”
“It’s true, dearheart,” he wheezes. “I’m more suited for the library than the great outdoors.”
“Would you like to sit down, catch your breath?”
“I’ll be all right. Just a moment more in this humiliating position should be enough.”
After another minute of his comical stoop, he feels that he’s regained enough of himself and straightens his back- which emits a vaguely alarming crack. Maggie bursts out laughing. He swats at her and misses, his vision too compromised by the absence of his glasses.
“Such heartlessness!” He laments. “No sympathy for one crippled by the pursuit of knowledge!”
“If you balanced your time at the desk with some time in the forest,” she points out. “Then you wouldn’t have a back like one of your professors.”
“So you’re suggesting more walks?”
“Exactly!”
He swings again, not to strike, but to catch her in his arms. Although she could undoubtedly escape from him with ease, she pretends to stumble and allows herself to be captured. Her hands press against his chest and her face swims into his focus now that she’s close enough.
“If I’m with you,” he says quietly. “I won’t mind.”
He wants to kiss her. She wants him to do it. At the last moment, he turns his face away, chuckling nervously. She cuffs him on the back of the head, trying to hide her disappointment.
“Silly boy.”
“Yes, well,” he mumbles. “You’re right about that.”
With a gentle hand, she turns his face towards her again. He thinks that she might be the one to finally move things forward, but instead, she just slides his glasses back into their proper place.
“Come on,” she says kindly. “Let’s go back to the path.”
- - -
The first time he sees the Gate, he has just activated the array that will bind Maggie to the chimeras he has prepared. It’s a human transmutation, absolutely forbidden, and he’s not surprised that there could be consequences beyond comprehension. He struggles against it, his mind digging in and holding on, but the alchemic forces are too strong and his consciousness is ripped from him and thrown into the void.
White and endless, and there in the distance, a structure unlike anything he has ever seen- but he’s too far away.
And the Gate is closed.
- - -
It’s the last few yards that are the hardest, but suddenly he breaks through the bramble and practically tumbles onto the open trail. Maggie alights gracefully onto the road beside him, picking leaves from her hair, smoothing her bright summer dress.
“There you go, fuss-pot,” she grins. “A tidy little path for a tidy little boy.”
“I hope you still have an interest in continuing our walk,” he coughs bashfully. “Even if the scenery is not ideal.”
“I know a place,” she says coyly. “Follow me.”
She sets off down the trail, arms outstretched, fingertips brushing the foliage on the nearest side. She wears her hair loose and free, and at its longest point it brushes the swell of her dress that’s been pushed out by the curve of her backside. Her hair is same color that his mother’s was- but never mind that. He picks up his pace enough to match her and draws up alongside.
“Must I follow?” He wonders. “I’d rather walk beside you.”
“That’s all right, I suppose,” she breezes.
Spring is just fading into summer. She’s still waiting on the invitation to come and stay with him over the holiday. He’s still waiting for himself to muster up the courage. They walk side by side down the sun-speckled path, the warm air swimming around them, the future beckoning. She moves a little bit closer, allows her fingers to brush against his. With a sudden surge of bravery, he takes her hand.
- - -
The second time he sees the Gate, he has just activated the array that will bind Nina and Alexander into a perfect chimera. This time, his hold on his own mind is significantly weaker, and it slips away from him after only a split-second of resistance.
The structure is nearer this time. He can see it clearly- a Gate, huge and monstrous, pulsing with energy. He regards it from an uneasy distance, the absence of everything creating a whistling in his ears, his skin prickling as if from sudden cold.
He has no desire to open it.
- - -
The land around them turns more and more to open country. Trees are replaced by wildflowers, the shade by open sunlight. Shou wants to shield his eyes, but since Maggie doesn’t, he doesn’t. Her hand is small and warm in his. He has a strange urge to squeeze it, to prove that she’s here, but he resists and forces himself to be content with just this.
He notices a low stone wall running alongside the trail, reaching only up to his knees. As they walk, it gets higher, until it reaches up to his hip and levels out. The field beyond must be private property, and the owner has no intention of letting the youth from the university help themselves to his land. Maggie brushes the back of her hand along the rough stone and hums at the texture. It causes her to shiver and clutch Shou’s hand just a little bit tighter.
When they reach the gate in the wall, Maggie strolls towards it without hesitation.
Shou pulls his hand away and falls back. “I don’t think we should.”
“But look at the wildflowers out there!” She gestures. “That’s where I want to be.”
“There’s a wall,” he points out. “We’re not meant to pass.”
“There’s also a gate,” she argues.
“It’s not ours.”
There’s an uncertain moment. The field beyond the wall is so, so green. Maggie’s eyes are so, so beautiful. She walks towards him, and he can feel his pulse speed up, as panic explodes in his chest and his palms break out in a sweat. She’s so close. He can smell her perfume- the scent that he bought for her birthday, the one she asked for so often. Her hand settles on his chest as if to soothe his desperate heart.
“Come here,” she murmurs, and when he leans close enough, she kisses him.
Thank goodness for instinct- his scholarly mind is no good to him anymore. His body takes over, his hands finding their own way around her, his mouth responding to hers in a harmony that he’s never known.
When she pulls away, she taps a finger against his lips.
“All gates are meant to be opened,” she whispers. “Otherwise they wouldn’t exist.”
- - -
The third time he sees the Gate, he has just activated the array meant to bring his daughter back to life. The words of the past are burned into his brain. This is meant to be. It’s still so far, but this time, he runs for it. It glides away, impossible to approach.
The fourth time he see the Gate, he gets a little closer.
The fifth- the sixth- the seventh- eventually he loses count. He just knows that he’s getting nearer every time. He drags himself on hands and knees, uses fingernails and teeth and everything he can to pull himself closer inch by inch. The distance is too great.
- - -
They go deep into the field. Maggie was right- the blooms are incredible, every color, every type, as far as the eye can see. She runs ahead, waist-deep in wildflowers, and he follows at his own pace, marveling at her, just the sight of her, the sound of her, the knowledge that she wants him to follow. Looking back over his shoulder, he realizes that they have passed out of sight of the road. There’s nothing around them but earth and sky.
When he looks back, Maggie has vanished. Worry stings him like an insect. He calls her name, speeds up, and as he crests the hill where he saw her last, something grabs him by the wrist and yanks him off balance. He lands hard in the grass and looks up into Maggie’s smiling face.
“Alone at last,” she giggles.
“Madame, is this an attempt on my virtue?” He jokes feebly, scared out of his wits.
“You bet your ass it is, Mr. Tucker.”
She kisses him again, deeper, more insistent than before. He responds, arching his back to meet her, and as her nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, his frantic mind goes finally, blessedly blank. There’s only silence within him, silence and heat, and he knows at last what he must do.
“I want you to stay with me,” he pants, mouth against her neck. “This summer. Come stay with me, I don’t want to be apart.”
“Yes,” she agrees, overjoyed. “Yes, I will.”
He rolls her onto her back. Her fair hair splays through the green grass like sunlight, spreading around her head and shoulders, surrounding her with a pool of gold. He aches to be near her. Her bright summer dress has pushed up to her waist. Fear freezes him, until she takes his hands and places them between her knees.
“Go on,” she whispers. “Open.”
Tenderly, he presses outwards, and her thighs part at his touch. There she is. His breath catches in his throat. As she pulls him down on top of her, his mouth finds hers. It’s already familiar. It’s already where he wants to stay.
- - -
By the time he reaches the Gate, he’s barely half a man. He has just activated the array meant to bring his daughter back to life, only this time, he has used Alphonse Elric as his Philosopher’s Stone. It can’t escape him anymore. Now, he’s face to face with it at last.
It’s still closed.
He throws himself at it. He pulls and pushes and digs and claws. He hisses and spits and screams and begs. It remains as it always has, silent and unmoveable, utterly indifferent to him no matter what he tries. The longer he struggles, the more his sanity slips away- he can feel it draining out of him, thought by thought. It doesn’t matter. If he can just- make- this- work- Only once, that’s all he asks. It only has to open once.
If he had a choice, he would stay in the void forever. He would stay until he finally found the way to unlock the Gate and repair the terrible damage he’s done. But it doesn’t work that way, and he feels his consciousness slipping away from him, spiraling back towards the wretched body that has become his walking punishment. A final glimpse of the cursed structure remains seared into his vision long after he comes to his senses in the factory.
His joke of a body is intact. His mind is not. It wasn’t enough. As he cradles the shell of his daughter and speaks to her as though she can hear his voice, he can almost trick himself into believing that it worked. Deep down, he knows it didn’t. Deep down, he has finally realized that yes, the Gate is meant to be opened.
Just not by him.
_________end.