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"Dummies. Welcome home!"
Ed grinned, "Thanks."
"Good to be back," Al chuckled.
Winry helped Al to his feet as Ed retrieved Al's crutch. Laughing and crying, Winry pulled them both into a tight hug, beyond bewildered that Ed and Alphonse – a flesh-and-blood Alphonse – were standing there before her. Hale and healthy and home.
"Easy, Winry, he just got that back!" Ed was mostly joking, but that protective tone was loud and clear. She couldn't blame him for it, though.
"Calm down, brother. It's fine." Alphonse beamed at her as she laughed and pulled away. Winry held onto Al's hands – his hands – and scanned him head-to-toe.
No longer was the small boy she remembered, nor a towering suit of armor with red soul-fire eyes with which she was so familiar. He was a young man, eyes brightened with pure happiness and the same brilliant shade of gold as his hair. He was taller than her now, too. almost taller than Ed. She hesitated briefly before gently holding his face in her hands. Bright eyes gazed back at her, as golden as his hair shining in the sunlight. As she stared in disbelief, Al rested his hand on hers and smiled.
"Hey, Winry."
She choked on a laugh as a new wave of tears appeared. "Hey yourself.” Lowering her hands, but still holding on to Al’s, she asked, "I'm not dreaming then?"
Al squeezed her hand and smiled brilliantly. "Definitely not."
She laughed softly and squeezed back. "And you’re both okay?"
“Yeah,” Ed replied. “And we’ll get better as we go. Me and Al both need to get our strength back.”
She looked at him, puzzled. “Both…?”
He smirked and held up his right hand.
His right hand.
Not automail.
Winry grabbed it and gaped. She was so overjoyed to see Al back in his own body that she completely missed the fact that Ed had his arm back. She stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, then examined his palm. It was weaker and paler than the other, sure, but it would be back to normal soon enough. Her eyes widened at a sudden thought, and she looked up at Ed. “And your leg…?”
“Nope, still automail,” he said, tapping his foot for added effect. “Don’t worry, you crazy gear head, you still have an income.”
She smacked his shoulder and Ed laughed.
“Well then,” Winry said as she turned toward the house. “Come on. I have an apple pie to bake!”
Ed collected the luggage and followed Winry and Al inside. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly Al made his way up the stairs. It was probably a new physical therapy record. He made a mental note and passed through the doorway.
They were home.
***
By early evening they had finished off not only the apple pie, but a container of ice cream, a crock of stew, and a loaf of rye bread. Al alone probably ate as much as Ed and Winry combined. How was it even possible for anyone to eat so much in his condition? He supposed there were a lot of flavors to get reacquainted with. Ed chuckled as Winry once again poked Al to make sure he was real. She had been doing things like that all day, and he didn’t blame her. Sometimes he couldn’t believe it himself. Ed roused from his musings when he noticed Al’s head bobbing.
“Alright, Al?”
Al hummed and nodded through a yawn. “Just tired. It was an eventful day.”
“Well that’s an understatement,” laughed Winry, chin in hand.
Ed snorted. “If you had laid down when we got here like you were supposed to–”
“Our first day back home and you expect me to sleep through apple pie and stew?"
“It would've been ready by the time you woke up.”
“If you didn't eat it all before then,” Al said, smirking.
Ed feigned offense as his hand flew up to clutch at nonexistent pearls. “I would never!”
A beat of silence.
The tension shattered and they all doubled over in laughter. The kind of fit where just looking at each other only made it worse.
Ed managed to compose himself first. The joke wasn't that funny. It was probably just the long day finally getting to them, but he wasn't about to complain. They were back in Resembool, safe and sound, no worries weighing down their happiness. He sat back in his chair as Winry and his little brother tried and failed to stop laughing. He chuckled softly and stared absentmindedly at the condensation beading on his glass. Al and Winry laughing and chattering on without him.
If Ed was honest with himself, he nearly forgot what his little brother’s voice sounded like without the echo of that suit of armor. Hell, he almost forgot what he looked like. The only reminders he had were memories and the pictures on the cork board of this house, and they hadn’t even visited unless they had to. By the time he saw Al’s body beyond the Gate, it had been years. He had been trapped in that hellish void waiting for him to finally figure out how to get him back… None of that, he chided himself as he shook his head lightly. Now was not the time for another trip down Guilt Boulevard. Maybe he was getting tired himself.
“Brother…?”
Ed’s head snapped up to concerned faces. He gave a small smile and shook his head. “I’m fine," he said quietly. He sat up and poked a finger in Al’s direction. “Anyway, you’re pretty much falling asleep at the table.”
Winry nodded in agreement after a moment’s skepticism. “Don’t push yourself. Like you said, it's been a long day for you." Al was about to protest, but she continued, "What if I make a quiche for breakfast? I’ve gotten pretty good at making that too!”
Properly bribed, Al conceded. “Deal!”
“And afterward, I’ll go ahead and take a look at that leg, Edward. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you limping around all day.”
Ed laughed nervously. He was lucky she didn’t have any wrenches nearby. He daudled by taking longer than necessary to get Al settled upstairs in their room. Al was too weak to climb so many steps this late in the day. Al shooed him off after being asked for the sixth time if he needed anything else. Ed swore Al wanted him to get bludgeoned by his mechanic.
Ed begrudgingly followed Winry into her workshop, automail creaking with every step. She would have just let him be, but she could hear her poor hydraulic actuators screaming for help. She knew his leg must be bothering him already since the rain set in right after the sun dipped below the rolling hills in the distance.
As she reached her workbench, she motioned to the couch. “You know the drill,” she said, donning her work gloves and collecting her tools.
Ed harrumphed as he peeled off his white sweatshirt. He should have known that she would want to see why he was limping. The fact that it was raining was apparently not a good enough excuse. He threw the sweatshirt on the couch and lifted his shirt up over his head, and he heard her gasp behind him.
He froze.
"Edward Elric, what the hell is that?!"
Shit.
Taking off his shirt was purely reflex after months spent at Central Hospital since his plethora of wounds needed close observation to prevent infection. It just made it easier for the staff to do their jobs and get the hell out of his hair. They monitored his injuries gained from the Battle for Amestris as well as the surgical sites on his chest, back, and shoulder from the automail shrapnel extraction. On top of doctors and nurses coddling him all day, the physical therapists insisted that they help rehabilitate his right arm, and even though he declined, their persistence won out. Ed dubbed it entirely unnecessary. Despite being severely atrophied and weak, it was perfectly healthy. He often commented to anyone that would listen that once it was as strong as the other, he would use said arm to sock Truth in its stupid face if they ever met again. Regardless, the appointments became a routine and so had the action of removing his shirt.
Perfectly reasonable explanations aside, he mentally kicked himself. Here he was in Winry’s workshop with his stupid shirt still in his stupid hands, and now Winry had seen the stupid scar on his stomach and back. He knew she would eventually see it – and would deal with the subsequent wrench-throwing then – but not as soon as the day he and Alphonse returned to Resembool. Damn it.
Ed sighed heavily and sat down heavily, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. He didn’t have to look up to know that Winry was seething. Steeling himself and preparing for the impending concussion, he lifted his head, retort ready on his lips to squash the whole subj–
She wasn't glaring, she was crying.
Again.
Because of him.
Again.
Double shit.
"Winry…”
Tears streamed down her scowling face, and his mouth clamped shut. She was trembling all over, arms held tightly to her sides, wrench in hand. Emotions flashed across her face in rapid succession: anger, concern, sadness, anger again… He looked warily at the wrench, expecting Winry to pull a fast one on him and whack him with it if he wasn’t watching. When he looked at her again, her face had finally settled on an emotion:
Fear.
Triple shit.
He could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before hanging his head, not wanting to see her cry despite still being able to hear her.
He jumped when the wrenches clanked to the floor, his head jerking up to see Winry running at him. She dropped to her knees in front of him and yanked him into a tight hug. And she was still crying.
“You said you were okay,” she whispered through sobs.
"And I wasn’t lying," he said softly as his arms settled around her. "We’re here, and we’re okay." He drew her away by her shoulders. “Look, I’m fine.”
She hiccupped and wiped her cheeks with her palm. How was this “fine”? She was used to his tendency of getting himself into trouble and acquiring new scars each time he came back home, but this scar was different. It was violently red, fissures of white tissue crackled throughout like lightning. She hadn’t seen scarring like this before. It terrified her to think how badly he had hurt himself to have a scar as angry-looking as this.
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
He lowered his gaze, debating whether or not he should tell her, unsure if he even could. She would just blame herself, and he didn’t want that. She blamed herself for enough already.
“Ed?” She tilted her head to catch his eyes, and he sighed.
“I.. got hurt.” Smooth.
“Edward…”
“I know, I know,” he pinched between his eyes and tried again. Maybe if he told her “who” instead of “how” she would drop it. “It was Kimblee. I had to stop him from following you and the others.”
Briggs. He got hurt protecting her. She sank back onto her ankles, unable to support herself anymore, and began crying again.
“Winry, I’m fine! I didn’t die!”
“You clearly could have! Look at this!” She shouted as she weakly gestured to his torso, tears still falling. “How did you even survive?!”
“It doesn’t matter! It worked out, I’m alive, and there’s no reason to worry about it!”
“I don’t care,” she said, exasperated. “I deserve to know what happened! You almost died trying to save me!”
“But I didn’t, so drop it!”
She shot up, towering over him, “Edward Elric, I swear to you, I am not going to ‘drop it’!”
They stared at each other, neither moving, one waiting for the other’s resolve to crack. Moments passed, and Winry’s glare hardened. She clearly wouldn’t let it go.
I’m going to regret this, Ed thought. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Maybe if he didn’t look at her, it would be easier.
He doubted it.
Lowering one hand so his voice wasn’t completely muffled, he said, “Kimblee figured out where you went and I tried to stop him, but the asshole blew the whole damn building wide open. I fell, and… a beam ran me through.” He heard her gasp, but he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He crossed his free hand over his stomach in a useless effort to hide it. He saw Winry lower herself back to the floor in his peripheral. He took a breath before continuing, struggling to find the words, “I… I did what had to. The lion guy took it out, and I…” He swallowed. “ I healed it… with alchemy.”
They were both silent for a long time. When he finally found the courage to look at her, she was of course crying. He sighed.
“Winry–”
She interrupted him, “What did you have to trade?”
He blinked. She must have listened to his and Al’s alchemy chatter more closely than he thought. He stammered, not sure how much to tell her.
“What,” she asked again, emphasizing each word, “did you trade?”
He swallowed his trepidation. No use backpedaling now. “My life force,” he said slowly, “I used it the same way a stone would be.”
Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she choked on a gasp. He flinched.
She covered her face and just cried. That idiot! How could he be so stupid?! How would it affect his future? How much of his life had he sacrificed? How long would it be before the consequences caught up with him? Would he get sick? What if–
She felt a tentative hand on her shoulder, and she lunged forward into him again, holding on as if her life depended on it. Maybe she could give him some of her life if she held him long enough?
All he could do was hold her. The last time she cried like this was after he had pulled her fingers from around a gun in an alley in Central. He told her then that her hands were meant to give life. Maybe she was trying to give some life back to him now. His hold around her tightened, and he lowered his chin onto her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, trying to comfort her, “I’m okay.”
They held each other for ages, Winry sobbing into his shoulder. He could feel her tears falling, and his heart ached more with every one. Time passed, and her sobs lessened to quiet sniffling.
“Winry, I’m sorry.” He felt her stiffen, but he continued, “I’m sorry I made you cry over this. I never wanted to upset you over something so stupid.”
“It was stupid,” she replied, voice trembling. “And how I ever fell for such an idiot, I’ll never know.”
Ed's mind blanked. ...What?
She froze, realizing what just poured out of her mouth. Did I really just say that? Out loud?!
He pried her away from him, saying, “Wait a sec, did you just say–”
“No!!” She felt her face flush furiously.
“Yes, you did!”
“I did not!”
“You’re blushing!”
“I-I was crying!” Very convincing.
He grinned, “Oho, I don’t think that’s it…”
She quieted, noticing the shift in his expression.
Ed’s eyes paralyzed her. Fiery, yet soft, and gazing at her with an intensity that made her body weak, her mind blank, and her heart pound in her chest. She had only seen that expression once before, not as intense as now, but just as familiar. Even though it had only lasted half a second before he completely freaked out and started hysterically mumbling the elements to himself, she saw it. Eyes widening at the realization, her hands reached out for his on their own.
“Ed?” She asked, hoping that her voice reflected the question she wanted to ask him.
Have you fallen for me too?
He chuckled and watched as she searched his face. Heart hammering in his chest, he untangled his right hand and lifted it to her face to wipe the tears still clinging to her cheek with his thumb. He looked into her misty eyes. Holding her gaze, he pulled her closer to rest his forehead on hers. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Me too.”
She pulled his hand to her heart, gripping it tightly in her own. He never expressed his feelings so openly in the past. She wondered what changed. Maybe it was the fact that the gates of his vulnerability were already open. Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to complain.
Ed moved, interrupting her thoughts. He had leaned forward ever-so-slightly, and stilled, as if waiting. He was apparently leaving it up to her.
She lifted her chin and kissed him. He smiled against her lips and she dropped his hand to weave her fingers into his braid. Ed wound his arms around her to pull her closer. She sighed as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss, pouring everything he hadn’t said yet into it:
I missed you.
I love you.
I’ll never make you cry like that again.
Ed broke the kiss, their breath heavy and eyes glazed. She rested her hands on his bare chest, skin hot beneath her fingers. A shiver ran up her spine despite the warmth. Goosebumps prickled under her touch, and she grinned at her effect on him. Ed pulled her into a hug, and she sighed contentedly as she melted into his embrace.
Thinking for a moment, Ed said softly, “I do, you know.” He might as well cross one off his list.
Winry pulled back to look at him quizzically.
“Love you, I mean.”
Her face softened, eyes misting over. “I know,” she replied, “I love you too.”
Ed grinned and kissed her again.
“Gear head.”
“Alchemy freak.”