Archive of Our Own ^beta

X X X

Hope is the hardest love we carry. - Hope and Love – Jane Hirschfield

The Elric brothers left on a sunny, summer day. Ed didn’t look back, even though Winry stood on the porch, waving at them until they disappeared into the distance. Al turned back once, when they reached the edge of the Rockbell property, waving at Granny, Winry and Den. Granny patted Winry’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before going inside the house. “They’ll be back,” she said, though she didn’t sound as if she quite believed it. “When they want a home cooked meal, they’ll be back.” The door squealed closed behind her. The smoke from Granny’s pipe drifted around Winry’s head, then blew away in the summer breeze.

Winry stood on the porch for a long time afterward, staring toward the road, wishing the brothers would appear on the rise.

They didn’t that day, nor the next, not the next week, nor even the next month. The brothers didn’t come back that year, nor the next. And sometime, finally, Winry stopped waiting. They’d come back when they came back, and she couldn’t keep standing on the porch. There were other people who needed her help, who needed her, and Ed and Al had each other. Needed each other. If they needed her, when they needed her, they’d come back.

And not before.

X X X

The Elric brothers returned on a summer afternoon, when the wind was still and the sky heavy with a possible storm. Thunder had been rumbling through the sky most of the day, the lowering, darkening clouds promising rain. Winry had been working on a piece of plate metal, turning it into a foot casing for a customer in East City. Granny would leave in a couple of days to take the foot to the customer for attachment, and stay a few days longer to make sure the attachment didn’t cause their customer any problems. The customer was a shopkeep who couldn’t take the time to come to Rezembool, and Winry understood his need to stay with the shop.

Granny was downstairs, cooking in the kitchen, making something for supper, the scents rising through the house. Winry had been smelling fresh bread and stew for some time, and her stomach growled as loud as the thunder.

Den’s barking broke through the whirr of the drill press and Winry shut off the machine, pulling her goggles down to let them loop around her neck like a clunky necklace. Getting to her feet, she unzipped her coveralls and her way to the open glass door that led to the balcony. She could see Den near the lane, trotting to meet someone – two someones, Winry could make out that much – still in the shadows of the trees. Something made her heart thud hard in her chest and she swallowed, leaning her hands on the railing and squinting, as if that would make their figures clearer.

Someone waved – both arms over his head, his golden blond head – and Winry felt her heart drop down to her toes. Relief, pain, annoyance, all three jolted through her. Pushing back from the balcony, she ran out of her room, racing down the stairs with a clatter. “Granny!” She couldn’t catch her breath as she swung into the kitchen, both hands on the doorframe to hold herself up. “Granny, they’re here!” she squeaked out, and pushed off the doorframe to run outside to the porch.

They were walking up the path from the road, both of them in the flesh, Den dancing around them, between them, her head tilted up to look from one to the other, her tail wagging madly. Al leaned on a crutch to help him walk and Ed had his suitcase slung over his shoulder. Both of them smiled, such huge smiles, and Winry felt her own mouth stretching in response. Her eyes blurred but she didn’t care, they were here. She could see them coming back home, to her.

Running down to meet them, Winry flung herself into their arms, knocking them all to the ground in a heap of laughter and tears. Den barked, running around them and darting her head in to give kisses to the nearest face. They lay crushed together, a pile of joy, and it took some time for Winry to realize Granny had been yelling at them for some time to wash up and come eat supper.

Over the meal, she studied the brothers, mentally making comparisons to the boys who’d left her so long ago, who’d come back as men. Al was still taller than Ed, but only by a hair’s breadth, and his body was more slender. Ed’s shoulders were broader, and his hair longer, and he was smiling again, like Winry hadn’t seen since before their mom had died.

But she could still see something in his eyes, hidden in those amber depths, and it made Winry curious. She wished she could just ask, but Ed wasn’t one to talk, even though Al and he told stories well into the early morning of their adventures and the people they’d met on them. Granny’d already heard some of Ed’s story when he’d been hiding out in Rezembool, waiting for her to return home. Winry suddenly wondered what it had been like for him, waiting on her. Maybe, she’d ask him sometime, maybe when she worked up the nerve to ask him about that secret he was hiding.

But maybes would have to wait, because it was very late, or very early, and Al’s yawns cracked his jaws, and the tabletop was starting to look comfortable, and Granny shooed everyone off to bed.

X X X

It shouldn’t have surprised her how Ed and Al somehow managed to fit themselves back into the rural life. Helping neighbors round up sheep and fix barns came easily to them. They answered the telephone and took down customer’s information, walked to the station to pick up orders, shopped and harvested and weeded and collected eggs, butchered animals for meat and helped smoke and salt it for storage. They went with some of the other men to collect honey from a giant hive someone had found in the woods, splashed each other in the creek on hot days, took Winry to see the movie when the movie man came to town. Sometimes, Al spent time with her alone, sometimes, Ed did. Some days, she might not see them at all until late at night. Still, she always knew they were here. They left her little notes, well, Al did. Ed sometimes dropped off something on her workbench: a piece of granite with mica flakes, a daisy. Once a set of tiny screwdrivers, so small they might be best for toy repair.

Winry responded by leaving them little gifts, too: a kitten, for Al, despite Ed’s protests, a plate of cookies. She got used to them being there, even though she thought they’d go off again. When a week passed, then two, and six, and three months and they hadn’t gone anywhere longer than a day’s trip, Winry found herself relaxing into something of a routine with them. They’d eat breakfast together if they had time, and sometimes make plans to do something later in the day. It was easy, and comfortable, and Winry cherished it.

Still, she wasn’t surprised to find Ed standing on the porch some evenings, a cup of coffee or tea in his hand, staring off at the road. And while Al seemed comfortable with reading a book in front of the fire, and pulling a string for Skip to play with, Ed still had a jittery feel to him, like he might explode if he didn’t contain himself.

When Al and he announced, two years after that Promised Day, that Al was well enough to travel again, and he’d be heading East to Xing, and Ed would go West to study alchemy there, Winry felt something fragile inside her pop like a soap bubble. She watched as Al packed his clothes and his journal, and a few gifts to take to Xing, and waved him off from the porch, since Al didn’t want her to come with him to the station.

This time, she hadn’t waited on the porch. Instead, she went to work. There were orders to fill, and they took up her time. A few hours later, a part of her was surprised to hear someone clear his throat.

“I’m back.”

Winry stared at the parts on the bench in front of her. Her heart thudded once in her chest and her stomach twisted itself into a knot. She hadn’t expected Ed to come back alone, even though he said he’d see her later. ‘Later’ was a relative term to an Elric boy, and might mean a few weeks or a few years. And even though Ed hadn’t taken his suitcase with him, it hadn’t meant he didn’t stash his journal in a pocket, and be ready to go without telling Granny or her.

“I thought I’d fry some eggs and bacon for supper, since you and the old hag have been working so hard the past few days.”

She couldn’t even look over her shoulder. What if it was her imagination that he was there?

“Is that okay? Or did you want something else? Granny said something about wanting chicken a few days ago.” A pause, as if he was waiting for her to say something. “Winry?” Another pause, though Ed’s voice took on a bit of an annoyed tone. “Look, I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but I’m sorry!”

“I’m not angry.” For a second, she didn’t recognize her own voice. “Really, Ed!” Turning her stool to face him, Winry pulled off her magnifying goggles.

He fumed, his jaw muscle flexing. “You’ve sure been avoiding me for the past few days! Ever since we told you we were leaving Rezembool!”

“I have not!” Winry snarled, pointing a gloved finger at him. “You’ve been helping Al pack. And wandering off. And sulking!”

“I have not been sulking!” Winry arched an eyebrow at him and Ed had the decency to hunch his shoulders and take a step back. “I haven’t!” He sulked.

Winry sighed, pulling her gloves off and tossing them on her work table. “Did Al get away okay?”

Lower lip poking out, Ed scowled at her. “Yes.” He spoke sharp and short and his glare deepened even more.

“Good. I’m sure your teacher will be happy to see him.” She got up, unzipping her coveralls, pretending not to notice the faint flush on Ed’s cheeks and the way his eyes followed her hand down the front of the suit. After tying the sleeves of her coveralls around her waist, Winry pulled the bandana off her head, dropping it next to the gloves on the table. Ed appeared to be staring at her belly button. “And you’ll be going in a few days, right? So everything will be quiet here again.”

Her words made Ed jerk his eyes up to meet hers, the weird glint in them again. Winry hadn’t seen it in a long time, and she almost didn’t recognize it now. “Yeah. I guess you’d like that, huh? We turn everything upside down.” He twisted a tiny smile.

“Well,” Winry didn’t like his expression. Ed seemed hurt, almost. Or trying to hide the fact he was hurt. “It’s been really nice having you guys here.”

Ed’s shoulders slumped as if he was relieved but he turned away before she could get a good look at his face. He mumbled something that wasn’t even translatable, wagging his hand over his shoulder as he left her room. Winry watched his retreating back and, letting out a sigh, she followed him.

X X X

The day Edward Elric left Rezembool was cool, and he’d asked Winry to walk him to the train station. She walked back home in a daze. Had Ed actually proposed? Or kind of proposed? And she’d accepted? And now he was going to be gone out west for who knew how long. Winry felt like throwing up her hands and screaming at the sky. Were they both idiots when it came to the other? Granny and Al would certainly think so! And at this point, Winry would agree with them. Ed hadn’t even promised to write, or even call. Not that she figured he’d do either – he was Ed, and the only time he’d called was when he’d thought she was in danger from the military or he’d broken something. Now if she was in any type of danger, well, there’d be no way to even notify Ed about it.

As if anything would happen now! The country was peaceful, and building relations with Aerugo and Creata, ones that relied on words rather than weapons. The only danger she might be in was if the river rose high enough to flood Rezembool, or maybe there was a train wreck, or possibly a runaway horse.

Sighing, Winry kicked at a pebble, making it skitter down the road ahead of her. She almost felt like the rock – not really in charge of her own destiny, just waiting for someone to boot her along.

And then she stopped, staring straight ahead. No, she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for Ed. There were things she needed to do. She needed to call Mr. Garfiel and find out if he’d let her finish out her apprenticeship. A journeyman automail engineer’s license wasn’t just going to appear in the mail without her testing for it. And then, with her journeyman’s license, she could move forward on her next step.

Feeling better than she had in weeks, Winry ran the rest of the way home.

X X X

Rush Valley didn’t have the same seasons Rezembool did. It went from insanely hot to mildly hot, to amazingly cold. And sometime during the year, if they were lucky, the rains came and everything went from being copper red to green and yellow and pink and white. Bees and butterflies appeared, as if blossoming with the flowers. Winry learned to appreciate the green time and the time when the weather was cool and crisp. The cold, clear nights brought brighter stars than she’d ever seen anywhere else, and the sunrises dyed the red rocks the most incredible hues.

A little over a year passed in Rush Valley, with Winry earning her journeyman’s license and starting the next phase of her training. Mr. Garfiel knew a surgeon in Central City who agreed to accept her as her apprentice while she started school for surgery. Moving from Rush Valley to Central City was a definite shock to her system. At least Gracia had an extra room, and Winry accepted her offer of it with the agreement she’d pay for its use.

Central City’s winters weren’t quite as mild as Rezembool’s, but at least the snow didn’t pile up like it did in Briggs. That made it relatively easy to get around the city, even to the hospital and the college where Winry attended classes. She worked with an automail shop near the hospital, learning more about the business end of her trade and how the medical part of it corresponded with the engineering part. In what spare time she had, Winry worked hard on an idea of her own, of a way to reduce the temperature conduction on automail to the ports and flesh and metal attachment area. How to refine the nerve conduction, so automail might have at least a rudimentary sense of touch.

She’d had little time to think of the Elric brothers, though she’d sometimes dreamed of them. Al and Ed, sitting on the porch, as the sun set. Al, in armor, petting Den. Ed, eating a wedge of pie. Sometimes, the dreams were nightmares, with Winry trying to staunch the blood from Ed’s shoulder and leg, and unable to stop it. Or Al’s armor remained quiet and still, rusting, eventually falling apart. There wasn’t anyone she could talk to about those dreams, no one who could really comfort her from them. She refused to tell them to Gracia, whose own nightmares were sometimes broadcasted through the house. And Granny didn’t need to know. Al was too far away to do anything about them and Ed, well, who knew where Ed actually was out West.

During her third week in Central City, Winry met Ben, Elicia’s teacher. He wasn’t a native either, even more out of place than she was, having never even visited Central until he’d accepted the position in Elicia’s school. Winry would walk Elicia to school some mornings, though she never had time to pick her up afterward, usually on the run from her own classes to the hospital or vice versa. Ben wasn’t like any of the men she’d been close to in the past; quiet when he wasn’t in front of a classroom of kids, thoughtful, less likely to leap before he thought things through. Their friendship surprised Winry, as Ben wanted to write stories, and usually had a notepad for scribbling observations, and he had dreams for becoming a famous children’s author. He listened to classical music on the radio, rather than Gold Street Theatre. He also listened to Winry’s dreams about an automail breakthrough, and encouraged her to keep working.

When he tried to kiss her, Winry pulled back. Ed’s face flashed in her mind, how he’d laughed at her on the train station platform, the hard hug he’d given her before climbing up the steps. His wave from the window of the passenger car.

Ben’s swarthy face flushed, his hands fluttering. Stammering out an apology, the words he said made no sense. He fled, his coat tails flapping behind him, he walked so fast.

It took four weeks before he’d even look at her again; five before he could say something beyond a short, ‘hi’. Their friendship picked up, but it was broken, not as easy as it had been at first. Winry tried to tell Ben that it was okay, she understood. He was lonely. She was, too. Central City was a big place, and not always friendly to outsiders, and Ben, with his coloring, could be taken for an Aerugan amongst the generally fair Amestrian citizens. Winry put a bit more effort in trying to keep in touch with him, not wanting him to feel so alone. Colleagues, classmates and coworkers didn’t need a lot of work but friends were harder, and Winry didn’t like losing them. The time it took to rebuild their friendship was something she felt well worth the effort, and she was relieved and happy, both, when Ben started coming over to say hello again in the mornings again when she dropped Elicia off at school.

At least Ben appeared to be happy about it, too. He didn’t try to push any type of romantic relationship on her past that one attempt at a kiss. Elicia, on the other hand, seemed to be determined to get Ben and Winry together. Any school function she could wheedle Winry into attending, she did. Gracia even commented on it, laughing slightly as she did. Winry made a mild protest. Ed and she had an understanding. Even if it had been nearly two years since it was made, Ed would come back eventually. He always did.

But sometimes, when her colleagues or coworkers or classmates talked about their dates, Winry got a little wistful. She didn’t have time to go out, barely had time to breathe, and yet, hearing them gossip about the best restaurants and walks in the park made her feel a bit more alone. Her best friends were in Xing, Rush Valley and somewhere off in the West. Gracia and Elicia were wonderful, and Winry couldn’t – wouldn’t – complain about their company. Still, she sometimes wanted to go out dancing in one of the clubs, or wade barefoot in the pond in the park. It wasn’t that they didn’t ask if she wanted to join them, but even if they went in a group, most of them had boyfriends or girlfriends, and Winry wound up feeling like a wallflower. Not that she figured she’d feel any different if Ed was there. He didn’t dance, a walk in the park would probably bore him into sarcastic comments and dining at a fine restaurant would be more stress than enjoyable for either of them.

“You should still get out and have fun,” Gracia argued.

“I don’t have a lot of time for fun.” Winry doodled a wrist joint, flesh rather than automail. She’d been doing that a lot lately. “Between work and school and homework, I don’t even have time to sleep!” Coffee had become her constant companion, the thicker and blacker, the better. Cutting it with cream and sugar didn’t keep her as alert, and the burnt taste of day-old coffee woke up her tongue, if nothing else.

Gracia folded her arms, giving Winry the ‘mom’ look she directed at Elicia when she didn’t want to pick up her toys. “You need to make time. You’re pale. You need to get out in the sun. You and Ben should go on a picnic!”

Winry couldn’t help but wonder if it had actually been Elicia’s idea. It sounded like something she’d say. “When? I’ve got a test I need to study for, and I’m trying to design a new leg for a customer. I get one day off in three weeks, and I wanted to try and catch up on some sleep!” Even if she didn’t sleep, it was a good excuse.

Gracia wasn’t having any of it. “You’re going out Sunday, if I have to kick you out of the house myself. Ben agrees.”

Feeling as if everyone was ganging up on her, Winry gave her assent. Reluctantly. She really did need to study, though Mrs. Anderson’s leg wasn’t going to take much more work to be complete and ready to attach. But she had to be available in case an emergency case came in. Those were important, too. And what if Dr. Stunkel suddenly decided on conducting a procedure on Winry’s day off? She couldn’t miss it, not and continue as an apprentice. All of her protests came to naught when the sun rose on a beautiful day, Dr. Stunkel didn’t contact her for any emergencies, and she’d finished a lot of her studying and work through the week. Almost as if she’d decided subconsciously, despite her reservations, she really did need a day off.

The green of the park, different than Central City’s normal yellows and greys, brought on a bout of homesickness. Winry realized she missed the foothills of Rezembool, the smell of lanolin, Den barking. A little pang shot through her at the thought of her dog. She was so old, and Granny had mentioned Den had developed arthritis and couldn’t climb the stairs to the second story any more. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk to Ben about. How could she explain how much her dog meant to her, when she’d left Den behind to go study medical engineering? Pursuing your dreams, your passion, it counted for something, but Winry understood how things got set aside.

“You’re distracted,” Ben said, interrupting her thoughts while he spread out the blanket for them to sit on.

Winry set the picnic basket in one corner, anchoring the blanket to the ground. The sun shone warmly, with only a light breeze. Still, she didn’t want to chance chasing a blanket all over the park. “Thinking of home.” She closed her eyes as a warm smile flashed in her memory, along with the sight of Ed getting on the train to leave Rezembool. He’d been gone so long and there were things to occupy her while he was gone. It didn’t stop her from missing him. Winry hoped, wherever he was, he was safe, and sometimes, remembering to think of her even if he didn’t call or write.

“Hmm.” Ben sat on the blanket, stretching his legs out. “How long has it been since you’ve gone home?”

“Too long, I think.” Winry smiled, shrugging. “I miss Granny and Den.” Tilting her head back, she looked up at the sun. It warmed her face, shone too bright in her eyes. Somewhere, she could hear music playing, an oompa band, and the rhythm made her smile. It sounded silly, overdone, and perfect for a sunny day.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? Being far away from everything you love.”

Ben’s voice broke into her memories. He didn’t belong there. He belonged in the here and now, where she was at this second. Not in Rezembool. Not working with Granny and walking with Den. “Yes.” She opened her eyes again, meeting Ben’s. “But it’s worth it. I’m learning so much, and I’ll take that knowledge and share it with others! Everything I find out, I use in some way. That makes it important.”

“You’re very dedicated, Winry.” Ben twisted his fingers together. He wouldn’t look at her, and Winry wondered why. Surely they were past all that. “It amazes me, how much of yourself you put into your work.” Finally, he raised his head. “I want you to know I appreciate you coming out with me today. Your friendship is special to me.”

The heat that flooded her face wasn’t from the sun this time.

X X X

Winter sneaked into Central City when no one was looking. One day, the weather was beautiful, the next, flakes sprinkled the ground and clung to lashes. Everything froze almost overnight, causing sprains and broken bones and bruises.

Winry watched her breath form clouds as she cautiously walked to her job. Elicia had the ability to bounce when she fell still; she didn’t have rubber bones any more. Even so, Winry hated walking like she was an old woman. She wanted to stride. There were things she needed to do today, and the slick sidewalks and roads were taking precious time. Urgency warred with the need to be careful and Winry waddled along the icy walks, hating having to be so careful.

As the capital of Amestris, Central City was large and well-populated. That didn’t always mean the road crew caught up to the weather as quickly as they should. Winry didn’t feel she had the right to complain, even if she did in her mind. Her breath plumed around her as she turned a corner, her feet skittering on a rough patch of ice. She unbalanced agonizingly slow, clearly thinking the fall was going to hurt just before the icy cement crashed into her hip and her shoulder. The impact juddered through her body.

For a few seconds, all Winry could do was blink. The pain started out like heat, blazing needles burning into her hip and shoulder and dammit, her back, god, it felt wrenched and Winry knew she needed to get off the sidewalk but it hurt to breathe, much less even attempt to move.

Her, “Ow,” long and drawn out, left a curl of steam in the cold air. Winry winced, carefully pulling up her limbs. Even her jaw ached. It was early, go-to-work early, and she knew someone would find her. But she wanted to get up now, get off the cold walk and into someplace warm.

The struggle to push up to a sitting position nearly made her scream. Sweat popped out on her forehead and seemed to turn instantly to ice. Winry shuddered, unable to move. Guilt and fear swarmed her, jeering voices in her mind, and she turned her face down toward her chest, trying to breathe through the pain.

“Hey, are you all right? I saw you fall – oh, hell. Stay right there.”

Almost before she could raise her head, her rescuer was gone. Winry saw a glint of metal on the bottoms of his shoes as he walked and laughed mirthlessly to herself.

Cleats. Why didn’t she think of that?

X X X

The fall had broken her arm and three ribs, bruised her hip and leg and jarred every muscle in her body. Dr. Stunkel shook her head over Winry, patted her shoulder, and advised her to get some rest. She personally offered to talk to Winry’s professors in the college. “You’ll be out of school for at least two weeks during the most important time of your semester, but considering your work at the hospital and with me, I think you’ll be able to pass your classes, regardless. I’ll have someone bring around study notes and homework, so you’ll be able to keep up.”

As long as it kept her from going crazy in a bed, Winry was all for it. Her employer wasn’t quite as understanding – he counted on Winry to fill particularly difficult orders, and with her laid up for as long as two weeks, and unable to even begin to work on automail for two months, and the end of the school semester coming up – he was understandably upset. He’d already been fretting about her cutting her hours for study time and tests, but for her to be completely unable to work beyond some designing was nearly beyond his patience. Winry was almost ready to tell him she’d quit – she had enough money squared away to live for a bit, and this next year of school and her apprenticeship with Dr. Stunkel would be her most difficult – when he had a change of heart. Later, Winry wondered if he’d been trying to rattle her and make her commit to returning prior to being able to work.

Somehow, she’d manage to get through her take home work, reading ahead and studying the best she could with out a professor’s lecture. Her friends’ notes were never quite as copious as her own, but she’d muddle through. And Dr. Stunkel offered to help as long as Winry was in the hospital, when she had time. If she couldn’t come in to quiz Winry herself, she promised to send someone in her place. It wasn’t as good as being able to attend classes and do her rounds, but Winry would have to make do.

Released from the hospital after four days, Winry went to the Hughes’s home. She needed to stay in Central City long enough to finish out the school year, even if it was that much more difficult. Her left arm in a sling, her ribs wrapped and her body full of analgesics, Winry wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to concentrate on her studies but the idea of having to repeat this semester, after nearly finishing it, made her that much more determined to try to test out the year. She didn’t kid herself that it would be easy. Her professors were determined to weed out those who couldn’t keep up. They wouldn’t cut her any slack because of her accident. That made it so much more important she keep up and take the test, even if all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep.

Ben stopped by the first day she was home with a bouquet of flowers in bright colors. His smile faded when he took in how badly she looked, with green and black bruises climbing up her shoulder to her throat and painting her jaw in lurid colors.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Winry lied, then corrected herself. “It doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks.” Another kind of lie. She hadn’t bothered check the mirror yet, being too afraid of what she might see. Ben’s expression made her think maybe she didn’t want to look yet.

They talked briefly, with Gracia serving hot tea and cookies that Winry couldn’t eat without soaking them to mush in her tea. Ben promised he’d return before he took his leave, and Gracia and Elicia agreed he should. Winry simply told him he’d be welcome to visit and she’d appreciate his company. As soon as he was out the door, she pleaded fatigue and crawled into her bed. It wasn’t as comfortable as she remembered, but Winry didn’t really care. She’d called Granny to let her know she was out of the hospital, and going to try to buck it out with her classes before she came home to Rezembool to complete her recuperation. Now, she needed to rest.

X X X

Winry woke out of a dream of summertime in Rezembool. She blinked. Her eyes felt scratchy and dry, and her tongue tasted like a piece of leather in her mouth. It made her wonder how long she’d slept. As long as she didn’t move, the pain stayed at a dull ache, but Winry knew she’d need to get up soon. If nothing else, it was time for another round of medication and her bladder was starting to make its needs known.

The cast weighed her arm down and Winry wasn’t sure if she could get the sling back in place without help. Groaning under her breath, she managed to roll onto her right side, pushing up from there. For a second, the room spun. She kept her eyes open through it, breathing deeply through her mouth until the walls stopped rocking. At this point, Winry wasn’t sure she wanted to get up but the pain was starting to ramp up in intensity and she really needed to pee.

The sound of soft footsteps outside in the hall alerted Winry, though it was hard to turn her head toward the door. She opened her mouth to let Gracia know she was awake when the doorknob twisted, a head poking through. Her mind went blank at the sight of golden blond hair, eyes widening and narrowing in empathetic pain, and a smile, not quite as toothy as his brother’s would be. “Al?”

“What did you do?” he asked, coming into the room. “I’m scared to hug you! When Gracia called and said you’d been in an accident, she didn’t tell us you’d been hit by a truck!” Her room was small enough he crossed it in two strides, leaning down and kissing her right temple, the only place on her face that didn’t feel swollen. “God, Winry.” Al stroked her cast, cupped her cheek. “Did you decide to take on the whole of Central City yourself?”

“I fell.” The two words sounded so stupid, and the way she said it made Al’s eyes crinkle and his mouth turn up.

“Most people don’t look like they’ve been run over when they fall down!” He squatted in front of her, peering up in to her face. Winry stared down at him, wondering if this was still a part of her dream. Why was Al in Central City? His hands gathered hers up, giving her fingers a squeeze. That seemed real. “You’ve got to be in tremendous pain.”

She gave him a weak smile in return. “I need to pee. And take my pills.”

Making a face, Al rose and spun, moving too quickly for Winry’s drug-clouded mind to follow him. He sat next to her carefully, obviously trying not to jostle her too much. “Come on, I’ll help you to the bathroom. And after you’re comfortable, well, Mei’s Purification Arts might be able to help with your healing.”

“She’s here?” Winry winced as Al wrapped his arm around her waist, preparing to help her up.

“No, still in Xing. She didn’t come with me this time.” The wry grin she glimpsed out of the corner of her eye made Winry wonder if there were other times when Mei had come to Amestris. But why wouldn’t Al have come to see her, then? No, the medications were muddling her mind. Al wouldn’t have done that. Would he? “Ready?” He broke through her foggy thoughts. “On three,” he said, adding a little pressure to his arm, “one, two, three!”

Standing jarred her hip and spine, but Al’s stolid weight on her side helped keep Winry upright and balanced. She let him half-carry her down the hall to the bath, insisting she’d be all right inside without his help. At least, she hoped she would, but Winry wasn’t telling Al that. If she couldn’t do this by herself, she’d ask for help but she had to try. There were too many things she needed to do before she went home to Rezembool, and if she couldn’t manage using the bathroom by herself, she’d never make it to take her tests.

It took a bit of time, far longer than normal, for Winry to make use of the facilities, wash her hands, and make it out of the bathroom. Her customers had to deal with issues far more problematic, she reminded herself, opening the door. Al pushed off the wall, offering her his arm. “It might be easier for you if I don’t put any pressure on your ribs,” he said.

Winry was never so happy her bedroom was on the ground floor of Gracia’s home. The idea of stairs made her ribs ache in anticipation of climbing them, even though she didn’t need to. After asking what she’d prefer, Al walked her back to her room, helping her into bed. Notes were piled on the bedside table, along with coursework and books. She sighed, reaching for the top book, wincing at the pull of muscles and bone.

Al picked up the book and handed it to her. “I guess you want to know where Brother is.”

Opening the book to the correct chapter, Winry stared at the words printed on the page. “I know you’ve both been busy.”

Al stretched, as if he was uncomfortable. He didn’t raise his eyes from his knees. “We’ve been asses. Both of us.”

Winry slammed the book closed, making Al jump. “I don’t want to hear that, Al!” Ignoring the knifeblade sharp pain in her ribs, she smacked him on the shoulder with the book. “If you’re out doing things, learning how to use Xingese alchemy or Western alchemy, that’s important! It’s not you guys being asses or idiots. It’s part of your lives! You don’t know how to sit still. You go out, you…you do things! Help people.”

Rubbing his shoulder, Al gave her a bit of a pout. “We could’ve been helping you.”

“I’ve been fine.” At his quirked eyebrow, Winry sighed. “Present situation excluded! I’ve been learning things myself. I’ve got my journeyman’s license now, and I’m learning medicine. I’m used to doing things without you guys being around. I make my own decisions. I’ve got ideas for improving automail, building it so it’s less likely to conduct extreme temperatures to the ports. I can’t do any of that if I’m sitting around, looking out a window for you guys to come home. And I don’t expect you guys to sit around, thinking about me when you could be doing something amazing.”

Al blinked and tried to interrupt but Winry was used to talking over men who tried to break in when she had a point to make. By the time she’d finished, Al was rubbing his forehead. “You’re right. You’re always right.”

“It’s about time you learned it, too.”

“But we still should have written you, at least.” Al’s faint smile twisted into a frown. “Sent gifts, something, anything!” He sighed. “We’re family, aren’t we? Why do we have to be apart all the time?”

Winry took his hand in her good one, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “Because it’s what we have to be right now. We’ll be together some time. It’ll be different some day. We’ll be…together.”

“You hesitated.” Al turned his hand over, twining his fingers with hers.

She shrugged. “I don’t see Ed ever really settling down.”

“Winry.” He chided her gently. “It’s hard. You have to know that. We spent so much time wandering, it seems like that’s all we really know how to do. But we want to come home, you know that, right?”

What choice did she have but to answer yes?

X X X

The train ride to Rezembool wasn’t nearly as difficult on her broken bones as Winry had feared. Al’s alchemic healing had actually helped relieve a lot of the pain, once Winry had agreed to let him work on her. “I am trained, you know,” he’d said.

“In alchemy,” she’d pointed out. “And human transmutation is weird and what if something goes wrong?”

Al had given her a long look. “You trust me, right?” Winry had whined, but agreed, and had been more than mildly surprised when she’d felt better afterward.

That had been two and a half weeks ago. Winry had taken her tests, managing to pass three, though the fourth…she’d have to retake the class. It turned out better than she’d expected and Winry knew she had Al to thank for his part in it.

“I called Granny and asked her to arrange for transportation for you,” Al was saying as the train pulled into the Rezembool station. The conductor shouted out the location, and Al got up, offering Winry his hand as the forward movement stopped with a loud hiss and clouds of steam. The bell on the locomotive rang and outside the windows, Winry could see the porters and line men running around the platform on their duties before Al distracted her by leading her along the aisle.

Once they were out of range of steam clouds and drifting cinders, Winry shook back her hair. Rezembool smelled like nowhere else, full of the scent of sheep. Closing her eyes, she stood still for a few seconds, soaking it in.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Her eyes snapped open and Winry turned too fast, nearly losing her balance at the sound of that voice. Al caught her before she fell, holding her upright as she stared, open-mouthed, at Ed. He stared back, running his eyes over her, reaching out and hesitating, shooting a glare at Al over her shoulder. “Al! The hell? Why didn’t you tell me she was this bad?”

“Because you said you wanted to surprise her.” Al patted Winry in the center of her back, as if to confirm she was still able to stand without his help. “If I’d told you, you’d have come to Central City and made her crazy when she was trying to finish out the semester. And you should’ve seen her before I healed her with Purification Arts. She was nothing but - ”

“Al!” Winry snapped and he grinned, raising his hands in supplication. “Never mind what I was or wasn’t. And Ed, shut your mouth.” She reached out with her good hand and pushed his chin up.

Grunting, he scowled, but turned away before Winry had a chance to read his expression. “Come on. The old hag’s waiting.”

Mrs. Coyle had a dogcart with a shaggy little pony to pull it. Winry blinked at it, then at the brothers. Ed, at least, managed to look a bit sheepish. Al pointed at the cart, and looked all too ready to pick her up and put her in the back of it. Puffing out her cheeks in annoyance, Winry let the brothers help her into the cart and cover her with a lap robe. They refused to put her luggage in with her and she wondered if they were afraid either the cart wouldn’t hold up or the pony wouldn’t be able to pull the extra weight. Mrs. Coyle talked the entire trip to the house, about the upcoming Sheep Shearing Festival, how Mr. Nedobeck’s prize bull had escaped his pasture and there were a few cows he’d mounted before he was rounded up by the dogs and chased home, and how did Winry manage to get herself hurt?

Kept busy answering the questions, or at least nodding at the appropriate parts, Winry missed whatever the brothers might’ve been talking about as they walked next to the cart. She noticed Ed showing a lot of teeth, but that wasn’t exactly an uncommon trait for him. Al waved his hand a lot, though Winry wasn’t sure if he was deflecting questions or growls. She probably wouldn’t know until they got to the house, if she heard then. It didn’t matter, really. They were family. They were her family.

Den roused herself from a sunny spot on the porch, barking once to alert the house as Mrs. Coyle guided her pony up the path. Winry bit her lip at the sight of her dog. Den’s muzzle had been white all her life; now the dome of her skull was, too, and Winry could see peppering on her ears as well. It didn’t stop Den from coming down to greet them all, letting out a peculiar, high pitched whine when Winry said her name and reached out to pet her. She never jumped, ever, but this time, she rose up on her hind legs, not actually touching Winry, but smiling a doggy grin at her.

Everything kind of blurred after that. Winry realized she was crying, which sent Ed into blustering fits and made Mrs. Coyle chuckle and Al offer her a handkerchief. And Den whined again, and tried to rise up, but didn’t make it this time. She whined piteously, licking Winry’s arm as best she could around the cast.

“Thank you, Mrs. Coyle!” Al said while Ed patted Winry on the crown of her head, sliding his hand down to her shoulders and tugging her against him.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled into her hair. Winry thought he might’ve kissed her. “Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s chilly out here.”

Granny met them on the porch, a workman’s jacket slung over her shoulders. “You look like a mess,” she said, scowling at Winry. “But I’m glad you’re home.” Pushing the door open, she gestured them all inside, waving at Mrs. Coyle as she guided her pony in a circle to take to the road again.

Somehow, stepping inside the door of the old yellow house, it seemed some of Winry’s worries fell away. She took a deep breath, smelling Granny’s cooking on the stove – sausage, potatoes and onions, frying together in a big skillet, canned green beans cooking with a ham bone and a kettle singing softly, ready to be poured into the pot for tea. As always, the scent of metal was in the air, the same as any automailer’s shop, and the lightweight oil designed to keep both machines and automail well lubricated. The doggy odor was there, too, and the sweet scent of pipe tobacco, and the smell of the lavender soap Granny stocked, even though Ed always complained that he ‘smelled like a girl’ when he bathed.

Her eyes misted and Winry stood still, taking it all in. A hand in the center of her back broke her out of it. “Don’t just stand there.” Ed gave her a gentle push. “Come on. You’re blocking the hall.”

The meal tasted better than even Gracia’s cooking. It had to have something about being home, surrounded by family. Maybe it was the Rezembool air, or the familiarity of the food and the conversations, which seemed to have picked up exactly where it had left off a few years back. Den lay in the corner, gifted with the ham bone to gnaw on while they ate. Once everyone finished, Al and Ed cleaned up, giving Granny a chance to check Winry over. She took her time, checking reflexes and pulse rates and heart beats and breathing – Winry felt like she was going to scream before Granny was finished. She didn’t remember her grandmother doing anything like this before and nearly said so – but she was her grandmother’s granddaughter, and figured that was the reason.

After Granny proclaimed her to be healing ‘all right’, they joined the boys in front of the fire, sweet smelling tea in a kettle, cookies on a plate. Al poured for them as they settled down, Granny in her rocker, Winry between the brothers on the sofa. Ed looked ready to go to sleep, cheek propped on his knuckles, eyes half closed. Al stroked the back of Winry’s neck with his fingertips, never having gotten over the fascination with physical sensations. Granny quizzed Winry on what she’d learned since returning to Rush Valley and moving to Central City. The sound of their voices was nearly enough to rouse Ed, who grumbled and shifted around on the sofa.

“If you’re tired, Ed, go to bed. You could use the beauty sleep,” Granny told him, pointing at him with her pipe stem.

“Nah.” Blinking sleepily, he waved her off. “It’s been a while since we’ve all been together. It’s nice.” Ed patted a yawn. “If I fall asleep here, just throw a blanket over me.”

“Does that mean I can smother him in his sleep?” Al asked Winry in a fake whisper.

Ed leaned around Winry, showing his teeth. “I heard that, Al.”

“Oh, look who’s talking.”

“Hey. Hey!” Winry wagged her hand between them. “I’m not listening to you two argue the first night I’m back home.” She glared at Al first, then Ed. His eyes glittered at her in a way she didn’t recognize consciously, but made her stomach feel fluttery and weird. Deepening her frown, Winry sat back, arranging herself on the sofa again. She could almost feel Ed’s smirk focused on her. Or maybe it was Granny’s expression, a flat, knowing look that reminded Winry of when she was a little girl and her grandmother caught her doing something.

The rest of the night was passed in story telling, with Al regaling them with tales of Xing and traveling with Ling and Mei, learning about the Purification Arts. Winry felt very aware of the heat of Ed’s body next to hers. Al rubbing the back of her neck and talking wasn’t enough to distract her from that sensation.

The feeling wouldn’t quite go away, either, even after she went to bed. It felt as if her muscles were twitching under her skin, like there was an amazing warmth flooding her, like a full-body flush. Sleeping that night made it fade, but every time she got near Ed, it started up again. Winry wished she could beat on some metal, just to relieve the stress winding her in knots. Ed, of course, seemed oblivious. He’d give her one of those goofy grins, or frown at her, or ask if she needed something. What was she supposed to say to that kind of question? The obvious answer wasn’t one she could really say to Ed. Not until she knew what he wanted. And that was the problem – he didn’t seem to want anything from her. Beyond picking her up at the station, Ed hadn’t really paid any more attention to her than he ever had. Winry didn’t know what to make of it. Or Ed, for that matter.

Six weeks into her recuperation, and Winry thought she’d be climbing the walls. The light dusting of snow outside the house meant it wasn’t exactly walking around weather, though Winry wanted to escape the house and the tension inside it. Even if she was the only one affected, she knew the others had to be reacting to her. Granny wore a smirk to rival one of Ed’s and Al, he kept needing to leave the room when Ed and she were in it at the same time. And Ed. Ed was just Ed. Still as casual toward her as ever. She was beginning to wonder if she’d imagined that proposal or whatever it was at the train station when he left Rezembool.

When he showed up in the den – without Al, or Granny, or even Den, carrying a tray with two steaming cups and a few cookies, Winry wasn’t sure what it meant beyond Ed wanting to talk. Or being unable to find Al, and not wanting to talk to Granny, or play with Den in the yard. He set the tray on the table, offering Winry one of the cups. “Cocoa for you, coffee for me.”

She took it, risking a sip. Ed and his prolonged hatred of milk meant someone had helped him with the cocoa, which also meant Granny and Al would be avoiding the den and the fireplace. Winry briefly considered her mood might’ve chased them off. Shoving that thought off to the side, she nodded at Ed, realizing he was still standing, looking at her with a hopeful expression. “It’s good, Ed. Thanks.”

His sigh of relief wasn’t quite as hidden as he probably hoped it would be. Maybe he’d made it for her himself? Ed distracted her from that idea by sitting on the table, picking up his own mug and slurping at the liquid inside.

They sat together, drinking from their cups. Ed seemed willing to just drink and not say anything, making Winry feel as jittery as if she was the one drinking the coffee. When he set his cup down, clearing his throat, she started. “You okay?”

Brow furrowing, Winry tightened her fingers around her cup, almost compulsively. “I’m fine.” All right, there was the twinge in her arm from the finger tightening, but it was just a twinge. “I’m not a porcelain doll.”

“Nah.” Ed offered her a lopsided grin at that. “You’re stronger than that.” His smile changed and he dropped his head so his bangs hid his eyes. “You’re really strong, Winry. Stronger than me.”

Before she could scoff, he straightened. “I kept hearing things about you. Yeah, I was a dick. I ran away after proposing, and I was planning on sending you a letter or calling and,” Ed sighed, picking up his cup and spinning it slowly in his hands. “And I didn’t. And a month went by and I still hadn’t tried to contact you and I felt bad, and I planned on writing you a letter, so I did, but it was terrible. I couldn’t think of anything to tell you. Everything I wrote was about what I was doing and it all sounded so stupid.” He sipped at his coffee. Winry figured it was to buy a little time. When Ed set his cup back down, she congratulated herself on guessing right. “And I felt bad about it. What could you be thinking of me? That I was an asshole? Some stupid jerk? Not worth waiting around for?” He held up a finger to keep her from answering. Winry let out a sigh through her nostrils. “So I did what I thought was the next best thing. I couldn’t write you. But I could show you something.”

This time, he hesitated long enough for her to get out a, “Show me what, Ed?”

He reached into his jacket, pulling out something and handing it to her. “Pictures. Pictures of everywhere I went. Everything I did.” Ed’s mouth twitched. “I didn’t even know some of them were taken but Donkey Kong and Lion King…I guess they heard me whining about writing you too much.”

Winry shuffled through the first few photos, stopping when she found a picture of Ed with a giant fish. “What is this?”

“Um, that’s a shark?” Ed showed enough teeth to rival the fish’s, though his smile wasn’t as scary. “It’s…uh. A big predator fish. Well, that species is! They aren’t all that big. Some of them are about as long as my arm when they’re full grown. They live in the ocean - ”

“The ocean!? You were supposed to go West!” Winry shot him a disbelieving look.

“Aheh.” Ed scrubbed at the back of his head, refusing to meet her eyes. “I did? And I went South, too. But I spent most of my time out west!” He reached over, plucking the stack of photos out of her hands. “There!” He showed her a photo of lush, tall grass, and Ed’s irritated face peering through it. “That’s from the west.”

“It looks like a bunch of grass.”

“Nng! It’s still from the - ” Ed shuffled through a few more photos, showing her another one. “There! From the west!” In the picture, he sat on a horse, mountains in the background and a few large rocks, nearly the same size as the horse, nearby. “See?”

Winry pursed her mouth. “You’re on a horse with rocks and a mountain. That could be Briggs.”

“Fine!” Glaring at her, Ed flipped through the photographs, making grumbling noises as he did. “I know I’ve got a picture in here somewhere.”

As he searched through the stack, Winry picked up her cup and took another sip. The cocoa was getting cooler, and she finished it off, not as willing to drink it cold. Ed growled under his breath. “Not finding it?”

“There’re stacks of pictures in my suitcase. I grabbed the wrong one, I guess.” He passed them back to her before picking up his own cup and drinking from it. “I said I’d heard things about you. I…um. I talked to some people in Central City.” At Winry’s arched brow, Ed hunched his shoulders as if expecting a more violent reaction. “It was business!” he squeaked. “And I kept hearing good things about you. That you were amazing. Working hard. Taking your knowledge and applying it to help people. Doing a hell of a lot more important things than I was.” He waved his hand as if to brush away his entire trip. “What was I doing but wandering around, trying to figure out what I should be doing with my life, now that Al had his body back? I never thought past that, Winry.” Ed leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, fingers twisting and retwisting together. “I just knew I needed to do something, and I didn’t think I could find what it was in Rezembool.”

“I guess not.” Winry watched Ed’s hands for a few seconds. He stilled them when he realized. “I mean, there’s not much here, after you’ve been through saving the country and all your traveling!”

“Hnng!” Ed pushed to his feet, pacing a few steps away from the table, his back to her. “That’s not what I wanted to say! I mean. Not what I wanted you to think! There was something here for me and I was an idiot. You were here. You were always here. And then you weren’t here, you were off living your life and doing what you needed to do to be able to help people. And I was off traveling around, trying to figure out what I could do with my life that didn’t involve me using alchemy.” He sighed, turning to face her. “Trying to be a better person. A real person, instead of just the Fullmetal Alchemist. And that was hard - ” He broke off, brows drawing down. “What’s so funny?”

Winry wheezed, hating her ribs still ached when she laughed. “You, you idiot! You didn’t have to go off to prove yourself! You did that a thousand times over!”

Huffing, Ed came back to the sofa, dropping on it next to her. He grunted an apology when she winced. “Sorry.” A pout formed on his mouth. “Sorry for a lot of things. I am a fucking idiot, aren’t I? Just like Al said. He kept telling me to come home.” Ruffling his bangs, Ed glanced at her sidelong. “But you’d done all these things, and I was just,” his voice trailed off and he sighed, leaning back into the sofa. “And now you’re here, and I still can’t say anything to you. You’ve…changed. There was that guy, the teacher, Ben?”

“You were spying on me?” Winry punched him in the shoulder, making Ed yelp and roll sideways. “Ed! That is being a jerk!”

“Hey!” He rubbed his shoulder. “You probably left a bruise!”

“Good.”

Ed sneered at her and Winry glowered back. “Someone told me about him! And I thought.” His pout came back. “I thought maybe you’d be better off with him – ow ow! Don’t hit me again!” Curling defensively, Ed quailed before her fury.

“Edward Elric.” Winry jabbed at him with a stiffened forefinger. “I make the decisions about my life. I made them after you joined the military, after you came home from getting Al’s body, after you guys left again. I wasn’t going to put my life on hold waiting for anyone! And Ben was my friend, that’s all! I made my decision about the man I wanted in my life and he wasn’t that man!” She poked Ed in the ribs again, making him squeal and squirm. “You were! You are! You idiot.”

“Idiot! Idiot?” He gaped at her then retaliated with a snarl. “Why was me thinking that being an idiot? I mean! You were changing. You had changed. You’re not the girl I left behind any more!”

That stopped her, made Winry recoil. “Really? You don’t think I am?”

“Well.” Ed squirmed again. “I mean…you look like her, but you’re so much…you’ve always been…nng!”

Turning to face him fully, Winry caught his cheeks in her hands, keeping hold when he tried to pull away. “I’m still the same girl. Your friend. Your mechanic.” Rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones, she smiled. “Your fiancée.”

His mouth twitched, trying to form a smile in return. Ed closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re right, I’m an idiot.”

“My idiot.” Winry rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “You know, I don’t care who you are. The Fullmetal Alchemist or the boy next door. My best friend or my husband. I’d know you, no matter who you are. Or who you believe you are.”

The kiss was soft and short and sweet, and Ed’s cheeks were flushed when he pulled back. “Well…I’ve been offered a job doing alchemic research for the Central City University. I’m not going to be teaching, but I might take on an apprentice or two. Teacher – Izumi – and Al are going to help when I need it, the bastard, too, so I’ll have someone who can test my theories. So, I guess, I’ll be working where you’re taking classes.” He took a deep breath, and reached into his jacket again, pulling out something small and glittery. “I…uh…was hoping…if you’re up to it, we can go back to Central a little early and see if we can find an apartment? If…if you want?” Taking her hand, he put the ring on her finger.

Winry looked at the green and white stones circling the band. Platinum, she thought; silver would be too soft and Ed would think of something like that. “Ed.”

“I thought you’d like emeralds. I mean, I was gonna get just diamonds but it looked so pale!” Scrubbing at his neck again fitfully, Ed peeped at her. “Do you like it? I could take it back and get something else. And Al said he could resize it with alchemy if you needed it resized, but I thought I knew your finger size, because Granny told it to me and.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway! Is it okay? I mean, us, and Central?”

“Yes.” Winry wrapped her good arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “Yes, Ed. It’s okay.”

“Thanks, Winry. For everything.” Hugging her, Ed buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you.”

She closed her eyes. “I love you, Ed.”

X X X

Ed and Winry left Rezembool on a grey day, with lowered clouds. As far as Winry was concerned, the sun was shining in her husband-to-be’s eyes.

X X X