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Winry didn’t hear word from the brothers until two days after the eclipse, and she had been fraught the whole time. Due to the fact that she and Pinako and the Briggs soldiers staying with them were still alive, she knew they had to have succeeded in stopping whatever was happening in Central, but at what cost?
She was reading when the phone rang, trying to keep herself distracted so her thoughts wouldn’t spiral out of control. She had been reading the same paragraph for the past ten minutes, which was to say it wasn't really helping. She jumped to pick up the phone, and heard an unfamiliar voice on the other end.
“Hello, is this the Rockbell residence?”
“Yes, Winry Rockbell speaking,” she said, clutching the mouthpiece tightly.
“I’m calling on behalf of Edward Elric.”
“Is he okay?!” Winry blurted out, interrupting them.
“Yes, miss, that’s what I was calling to let you know.”
Relief flooded through Winry’s body, making her light-headed. She collapsed into a chair, and switched the phone to her other ear. “Can I talk to him? Or Al?” she asked weakly.
“I’m afraid not, miss. But they wanted you to know that they’re alright, and they’ll be coming home as soon as they physically can.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Winry said softly. “Wait, can you give them a message for me?”
“Yes, miss.”
Winry gulped and twisted the phone’s cord tightly around her finger. What should she say? She had too many thoughts, too many feelings. Eventually she struggled to find her voice enough again to say, “Tell them that I have pie waiting for them.”
It felt lame, the words leaving her tongue with little conviction, but it was what Ed had asked of her the last time she saw him, and she didn’t want to pass on all her joy and fear and relief and hope to them through a stranger. So a simple reminder of their promise to see each other again would have to do.
She baked an apple pie every day, after that.
When the sun set and they still hadn’t come home, she would bring it to one of the neighbours as a gift. Then the next morning, she would start her day by making dough.
Eventually things began to settle back into normality. The train lines opened up again, the new Fuhrer was inaugurated, the Briggs soldiers received orders to head back north. Winry sent that day’s pie with them, because there had still been no word from the Elrics.
After two months of baking pie everyday, it was routine to her. She could do it from muscle memory alone, even half-asleep. She’d stayed up too late the night before, sketching new automail designs, but as always she still got up at 7:00 to start her dough. While she waited for the oven to heat up, she rested her folded arms on the table and pillowed her head upon them. Listening to the birds outside and the hum of the electric oven, her eyes slipped closed.
Den’s bark stirred her a few minutes later. She stood up, rubbed her eyes, and made her way to the front door, wondering what the commotion was. Den wasn’t an overly noisy dog, she really only barked when they had visitors.
Just as winry put her hand on the doorknob, she heard a laughing voice drift in from outside.
“Den, you’re tickling me!”
It sounded like Al’s voice, but it was missing the echoing quality that had become so familiar after four years.
Winry tightened her grip on the knob and opened the door. What she saw outside swelled her heart so much that she could already feel the tears swimming to her eyes. There was Ed, wearing his hair in a ponytail and his suitcase slung casually over his shoulder, and beside him was Al, the real Al, with golden hair and golden eyes and a bright, wide smile that was nearly blinding for all that Winry had missed it.
Immediately she flung herself at them, because how could she not? They toppled to the ground with the force of her tacklehug, and Al was laughing beside her ear, and she could actually feel him laughing, and landing on Ed’s shoulder told her that the arm under his jacket was metal no longer. She pushed herself up, hovering above her boys as the tears flowed freely.
“Dummies, welcome home,” she cried, overwhelmed with love and gratitude.
Once they picked themselves up off the grass, Winry ushered them into the front room.
“I was just about to put the pie in,” she told them, her hands fluttering with the energy coursing through her. “Ed, you should let Granny know you’re here, she’s in the basement. Al, you sit down. Do you want anything? Water? Tea?”
“Milk, please,” Al chirped, and his cheerful, polite voice was familiar, but the smile on his thin, pallid face had been gone for so long that seeing it again was dizzying. Winry beamed back at him and spun on her heel to fetch him a bottle and put her pie in the oven.
Ed shouted for Pinako, and everyone reconvened in the living room.
“So you managed to do it, huh?” Pinako said as Winry handed Al a glass bottle of milk. “It warms my old heart to see you boys happy and on the the mend.”
“Thanks, Granny!” Al said with another blinding grin. “It feels really good to be home. I didn’t realize how much I missed the smell of this place. And I can’t wait to try your apple pie, Winry!”
Winry saw Edward's eyes flicker towards her. “How did you know to make one today?” he asked, voice caught somewhere between suspicious and impressed.
She ducked her head, embarrassed. “I’ve actually been making them every day,” Winry confessed. “It still has to bake for an hour, and then cool for another half hour.”
When she looked up, Ed was shaking his head at her, but he was smiling too. “You’re incredible,” he said, amused.
She felt her cheeks get warm and she fidgeted with the sleeve of her shirt. “So, tell us about what happened!” she clamored to make up for the sudden lapse in her brain function.
The smell of the pie baking wafted through the air as Winry sat and listened to Ed and Al describe the climatic events of the Promised Day. She felt a little lost at some points, like how their father was involved, or what they meant every time they brought up the ‘gateway,’ but she was moved to tears again when Ed described Al’s sacrifice. Then he surprised her by saying that he traded his alchemy to get Al back.
“So you can’t do alchemy anymore?” Winry asked, wiping her eyes. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
Ed shrugged and looked down at his lap, where he was massaging his right palm with his left thumb. “Nah,” he said softly. “Some things are more important.”
“But you love alchemy,” Winry insisted. Being an alchemist was cemented into Ed’s identity, as far as Winry was concerned. She couldn’t remember a time in their lives when he wasn’t talking about the properties of elements and equivalent exchange. Alchemy was to him as automail was to her.
Although, she supposed, if she had to choose between being able to create automail and saving the life of someone she cared about, she would also forgo her passion to do the right thing. That doesn’t mean it would be an easy decision though, or that she wouldn’t miss it.
“Like I said, some things are more important,” Ed repeated. He glanced at Al, who smiled back.
Before anyone could say anything else, there was a sudden buzzing from the kitchen, causing Winry to shoot up from her seat. “The pie!” she exclaimed, dashing off to the oven. She snatched up the timer and switched it off before donning her oven mitts and pulling the pastry out to cool.
Winry shut off the oven and leaned against the counter with a quiet sigh. She could hear Al and Pinako’s voices carry over from the other room, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She also heard the floor creak behind her, and she turned to see Ed standing in the kitchen entrance.
“Smells good,” he said, leaning on the door jamb.
Winry smiled. “Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice so I’ve gotten the recipe just right.”
Neither of them moved. They simply stood at either end of the room, looking at one another. The morning light through the window bestowed a warm, golden glow upon the kitchen, rustic and serene.
Ed had a sort of complicated expression on. His eyes were fond, but there was a nervous tension to the line of his mouth that had Winry worried.
“Would you mind looking at my leg?” he eventually asked, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Winry relaxed slightly. Was that all he was nervous about? She hadn’t noticed him limping, but she had been so distracted -- now that she was paying attention she could see he was slightly favouring his right leg, even standing still. “Yeah, of course. If there’s something wrong with it, you shouldn’t have walked all the way here without a cane,” she scolded lightly, tugging off her oven mitts.
Ed blinked at her. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” Winry huffed. “I don’t like the fact that you’re always breaking my hard work, but I’d replace your automail a hundred times as long as it meant you came back alive. You went through a lot recently. I get it.”
The sheepish look on Ed’s face turned to guilt, and he looked up at the ceiling. “Well, but, I didn’t break it in the fight, I just kinda… forgot to maintain it while Al and I were recovering. You should be mad. Why are you being so understanding?”
Now Winry’s temper flared. “What are you saying?” she demanded, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m always understanding!”
He finally looked at her again and cracked a smile. “Right, of course. All those wrenches to the skull must have made me forget how understanding you are all the time.”
Winry shook her head at him, but she had to admit that she was smiling too. “Shut up and sit down, Edward. I’ll go get my tools.”
She started to walk past him, but he reached out to her as she went by, making her pause. It was his right hand that encircled her wrist, the one he’d gotten back, and Winry’s breath caught unexpectedly in her throat. His fingers were warm.
“Wait, I wanna give you something,” he said.
Winry turned to face him, eyes wide. He was so beautiful up close, every shade of gold between his eyes and hair and skin; he practically glowed in the sunlight that slanted across the room. She had to tilt her chin up slightly to meet his gaze now, and even just those few inches to his height felt dizzying to her.
She felt him press something into her hand. When she glanced down, she realized it was her earrings, the ones she’d given him months and months ago way back when they were up north and Winry had made it clear that she wasn’t going to sit by and let the brothers be the only ones taking risks anymore.
“These are for you,” Ed said quietly, mimicking the words he’d used when he’d first given her the earrings back when they were thirteen. He let go of her, and Winry’s fingers curled around the bits of metal as she stared at him. He met her eyes for just a moment, then quickly glanced away and took a step back into the kitchen.
Winry remained in the doorway, frozen. “You really held onto them for all this time?” she asked, a little dumbstruck. With everything going on, she couldn't believe he'd bothered to keep track of something so small. In the scheme of the fate of the country, one girl's earrings hardly seemed important.
For Winry, her naked ears had been a reminder that something was missing, but she had never really thought about the moment she would get them back. When she wore them, the earrings filled her with a sense of pride; they were gifts from the brothers that she cared for so much. Ed and Al were important to her, and being away from them for so long had been difficult. She wasn’t any less human without them, any less herself, but it felt dull by comparison. Dull like plain, unpierced ears.
“Of course,” Ed said immediately. “I promised, didn’t I?”
Winry clutched the earrings to her chest. Warmth spread through her, and she smiled. Of course he kept his promise to her, the same way he kept his promise to Al. That was another thing about Ed that was cemented into the core of him -- he liked to bargain. He traded things for other things, sure, and called it equivalent exchange, but he also dealt in promises. He’d promised to make her cry tears of joy, because he couldn’t stand to watch her suffer. He’d promised to hold her earrings for her, so that he’d have a tangible reason to stand in front of her again. He’d made her promise, too, to bake a pie for them so they could come home.
When Ed made a promise, it was more than just words. It was an anchor.
“Right, of course,” she said, but it came out softer than she intended with these realizations swirling in her mind. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she understood Edward Elric.
He looked at her then, but it was more than just looking; he was seeing her, and in that moment she felt like he was understanding her too. It was exhilarating, and terrifying, and she felt herself blush all the way down to her neck. She watched Ed notice that she was blushing, and then she watched exhilaration and terror flit across his face as he began to blush as well.
“Well, um, thanks,” Winry stammered. “These are pretty important to me. I’m glad you didn’t lose them.”
“Did you really think I would?” Ed scoffed, crossing his arms and turning his head to hide behind his bangs. “Don’t insult me.”
“No, no, of course not! I didn’t mean…” Winry scrambled for words, the warmth from earlier replaced with squirming embarrassment.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Ed assured her quickly. He still looked as mortified as she felt, which was her only consolation in this. “Weren’t you grabbing your tools?”
Winry jumped like someone had shocked her, and she nodded. “Yes! Right! Be right back then!” She quickly spun on her heel and fled towards her workshop.
She stopped by the bathroom on the way to put her earrings back in. Most of them took a few tries, since it had been so long, and her ears were a little red and sore after, but when she turned her head side to side and saw the bits of metal glint in the light she couldn’t help but smile. Right where they belong, she thought, satisfied. She tucked her hair behind her ears so that Ed was sure to see them when she went back downstairs. Then she went to her workshop and gathered everything she thought she might need for the maintenance on Ed’s leg. If he had just been neglecting it, then it shouldn’t be too involved and she could do it at the kitchen table while everyone enjoyed her pie.
Apron donned and toolbox in her hands, Winry took a moment to lean on the wall at the top of the stairs. She could hear Ed and Al bickering about something below. Pinako’s voice joined in, and then Ed’s voice raised, which meant she must have sided with Al. Winry smiled and closed her eyes, hugging her toolbox close to her chest. It felt like finally, finally she had her family back.
It wasn’t like everything suddenly made sense to her, but there was a certain coalescing of happiness, of knowing that no matter what happened, these people would always love her, and she would always love them. With that thought locked up tight in her chest, she descended the stairs with a shining smile. When she walked into the kitchen, Ed had Al in a headlock and was administering a ferocious noogie, but they both looked up at her, and the way Ed’s smile lit up to match her own made everything inside her melt.
The rest of the day was a blur of automail and pie and jokes and laughter, interspersed with moments where Winry and Ed managed to catch eyes and then glance away again, knowing and bashful. Maybe one day they would talk about it, this thing that they shared, but today she was happy to just let it be what it was.
He was home now, and they had all the time in the world to decide.