Archive of Our Own ^beta

She was passing his room, headed for her own to change out of the shirt she’d accidentally slopped milk down the front of, when he called out to her.

“Hey, Win?”

It was a nickname she’d heard on occasion before, but it had become his habit, and she loved the affection he managed to put into the single syllable.

She halted at once, and backtracked a couple steps to pop her head into the room the Elric brothers had often shared whenever they were in town over the years. “Yeah, Edward?”

It was a cloudy spring day, so the curtains were opened, and he wasn’t wearing his dark glasses, so she could see his eyes. Cloudy days were usually good days for Ed, the muted light letting him behave more normally. So she was a little concerned to see him looking so serious.

“Everything okay?” she added.

He was sitting on the floor, back against the side of his bed, a large book and several papers spread out in front of him. Notes Alphonse had sent in the mail from Xing, looked like. But at her question, he gave his head a little shake, and quickly smiled, covering up the gravity in his earlier expression.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said. “I was just, uh, wondering what you were making for lunch.”

Okay, definitely not what he had meant to say, she could tell that. But for the moment she let it slide, because that was an honest question too. Even though she didn’t like having to answer it.

“Lunch was Granny’s soup from last night. I’m making a cake now for dessert tonight.”

A series of emotions crossed his face: Confusion, ‘Oh, crap, I forgot’, checking his watch, and then the frown relaxing as he recalled something.

“It’s later than I thought,” he said. “But a cake sounds great.” He smiled at her again, a smile that struggled to reach his eyes. “Just wanted to tell you what a great cook you are.”

Winry’s smile was a little forced too. “Thanks. I like cooking for you.” Ed’s face softened, and her own smile got easier in response. “Now,” she added, “I really want to go change out of this shirt. That cat Al left you–”

“Snowflake? Come on, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Winry rolled her eyes. “That is exactly what she was hunting, when she got between my feet.”

Ed made a ‘humph’ noise, but then closed his eyes, and rubbed one hand over his forehead, the lines that the pain of the last few months had started to carve there.

Winry bit her lip at the gesture, and swiftly crossed the room to Ed’s side. “Don’t do too much reading again,” she admonished, then deliberately put a hand on top of his head where the scar slashed through his short golden hair, and bent to kiss his brow.

“I know,” he muttered, and it hurt to hear more sadness than frustration in his tone.

There was something awkward in leaving the conversation there, but Winry had no idea what to say. Snowflake saved her.

The white cat came sauntering in, walked right over the papers, and hopped into Ed’s lap.

“Hey, Flakey,” Ed muttered, scratching between her ears so that she began to purr. Winry thought it was hilarious to see them; after all the years Ed had spent complaining about Al’s affinity for cats, and grumbling about how much cats hated him, here he was insisting that a cat could do no wrong. Maybe that was the possible personality change the doctors had mentioned could result from head trauma.

“Take care of him, Snowflake,” Winry called over her shoulder as she went to the door.

“Hey, I don’t need a babysitter,” Ed protested.

“Sometimes I wonder,” was Winry’s parting shot.

She couldn’t help smiling as she continued down the hall to her room. It was good to banter with Ed again. Things had been so hard for everyone after the accident, but of course for Ed most of all.

Even after he’d gotten out of the hospital, he’d struggled so much. Headaches and nausea, being super sensitive to light and never being able to read for more than a few minutes at a time, the consistent memory struggles, and the awful uncertainty of when, or even if, any of this would heal.

Thank goodness, it had started to. Four months later, he’d reached the point where Al felt comfortable leaving for Xing, off to search for possible answers in alchemy.

It was similar to when the boys were always off searching for a way to get their missing limbs and body back, and yet it was completely different. Now one was gone, and one was at home, and the search was less… guilt-ridden perhaps. She was also privy to far more of this journey, which, on the whole, she was glad of, as hard as some days had been.

She took a glance on her return to the kitchen, reassured by the sight of Ed petting Snowflake, and talking to the cat. Was it selfish of her to be glad he was here? Where she could see him every day and talk with him whenever she needed to, and she had his company at the supper table.

She measured out a cup of milk once more, and chuckled at the fond memories of Ed’s aversion to stuff. He still didn’t care much for it, but if she put a glass by his plate, he’d drink it. Especially if it accompanied a slice of her apple pie.

Tonight she was going for a lemon cake recipe that Gracia had sent her. Lemons were something of a luxury in many parts of Amestris, but Ed had developed a fondness for the flavour on his first (and so far, only) trip out to the west. The green grocer in town had ordered some specially at her request.

Den came into the kitchen, and she tried not to think about how slowly he was moving. It had been a rough winter for him, getting sick and all. He wasn’t exactly a young dog either.

“Hey, Den,” she grinned. “You wanna try some of this?” She bent and held out a piece of the ragged squeezed out lemon.

The dog sniffed at her hand, took the tidbit carefully between his teeth. Then he spat it out, fast. Winry couldn’t help laughing at the disgust on Den’s face. “Sorry, boy, but I did honestly want to see what you thought. It tastes way better when you mix it with lots of sugar.”

Granny was in the workshop finishing a new automail hand for a little girl who wasn’t so little anymore, and Den wandered off in that direction.

So yeah. Maybe life wasn’t perfect or easy, but it was pretty good.

»»»«««

Ed missed supper that night. Begged off because of a headache. He sounded worn enough when Winry went to check on him, and found him curled up in bed with the curtains pulled to.

“Leave the door cracked for Flakey,” was all he muttered in response to her question of what she could do to help.

“Okay,” Winry whispered. She tiptoed out, not liking the uneven sound of his breathing.

She cut one piece of cake each for her and Granny, put the rest of it in the ice box, and then stood staring at the closed ice box door for a while.

Granny came and touched her elbow. “You won’t do the boy any good worrying about him.”

Winry gave her a small smile, and sighed. “That doesn’t make it easy not to.”

Rain pattered against the windows as they washed up, and the wood stove made the house just comfortably toasty. It had been a slow, cold start to spring. Winry stared out the window and doubted that was helping Ed’s head. He could predict weather changes with great accuracy now, depending on how and where his head ached. Or didn’t ache. Would that go away when they found a cure?

“He hasn’t said anything more about it, has he.”

Startled, she looked round at Granny, catching the tail of her eye as the little old woman snapped her focus back to the plate she was scrubbing.

“Who said anymore about what?” But then Winry guessed, and her cheeks warmed.

“Ed,” Granny answered briskly. “Proposing to you.”

Involuntarily she glanced over to the stairs. Granny and Gracia Hughes were the only people she had told about that. She was pretty sure Al knew from Ed, but then… they’d had so little time, only a few days together after the boys’ return, before the horrible car accident that changed everything again.

“Not really,” she murmured, bowing her head. “He has been… different, and not just because of the injury and everything.” Absently she traced the scalloped edge of a plate with one finger. “He didn’t bat an eye at the hospital when people assumed I was his girlfriend. He actually called me his girlfriend.”

Granny chuckled.

“But he hasn’t really done that since. So sometimes I wonder if he even remembers it.”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes he’ll…” She stopped, bit back a little smile. “…hold my hand.” There was something almost sacred about that fact, and part of her instantly wished she hadn’t said it. “But no,” she added hastily. “He hasn’t said anything.”

Even Winry could hear the ache in her own voice, and she wasn’t sure whether to roll her eyes at her pining self, or wish someone would give her a hug.

“Maybe he’s scared,” Granny muttered.

“Scared?” Winry blinked at her grandmother. “Of what?”

Pinako Rockbell frowned, and jerked her head, as if she wished she hadn’t said anything. “What’s he usually scared of?”

“Nothing!” But then Winry hesitated. Because as much as that might look true on the surface, she had known Edward Elric long enough to see deeper. “Being a burden, I guess. And… losing people he loves.

“But, Granny!” She whipped around, wide-eyed. “He’s not a burden! Not to me. Never to me!”

Her grandmother grunted. “Eh, maybe you need to tell him that.”

“Well, I will!”

Tears abruptly burned in Winry’s eyes, and she bit her lips together. Sorry, Ed, she thought. I’m crying over you again. But it’s because I love you. Hastily she turned away with the plates, and busied herself at the cupboard till she had sniffled her emotions back under control.

“Why don’t you go on up to bed?” Granny suggested quietly. “I can manage sweeping up just fine.”

Winry hesitated, then gave in. “Thanks, Granny. And don’t forget to bank up the fire in the stove either.”

Granny gave her a sharp grin. “I may be old, girl, but I ain’t senile.”

Winry couldn’t help smiling as she bent to kiss the old woman’s forehead. “I know, Gran. See you in the morning.”

»»»«««

She was woken well before dawn by the sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom.

She had been deep asleep, and it took her a few moments to really clue in to what that meant. Ed, her brain finally concluded, and then she was scrambling out of bed in a flash. She was wearing shorts, and the air was cool on her bare legs, but she grabbed her favourite big grey hoodie to pull over her t-shirt; that would keep her warm enough.

The retching stopped, and then came a truly heart-wrenching moan. Winry half-ran down the hall to where the bathroom door stood slightly ajar.

“Ed?” She tapped lightly on the wood, then stepped inside. “Are you-?”

He lifted his head, and the ‘okay’ died on her lips. The smell hit her, that particular combination of bile and sweat, and she gulped. He was flushed, almost feverishly so. He kept blinking and squinting, and couldn’t seem to focus his eyes on her.

“Win?” he croaked, before he jerked back to the toilet and was vomiting again.

Swiftly she stepped forward to cup her hand under his forehead, and he leaned into the touch. “Ed…” was all she could murmur.

There was nothing left to come up, and it was only a few seconds before he stopped. He slumped forward, breathing hard, and letting her take the full weight of his head.

Trying not to jostle him too much, Winry stretched to grab a washcloth out of a drawer beside the sink, and quickly wet it with cool water. He moaned again when she eased the wet cloth between her hand and his forehead.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Do you think you can keep your pain pills down if you take them with a glass of water?”

“Dunno,” Ed breathed.

“Do you want to stay here, or go back to bed and I’ll bring you a bucket?” A migraine made Ed hypersensitive to both sound and light, so she knew to keep her voice down.

There was a long moment of Ed considering, before his head jerked.

“Is that a yes to the second?”

His head jerked against her hand again, hard enough to knock it against the edge of the toilet bowl.

“Ed?” She caught her breath as he went stiff, everything in his body suddenly being pulled toward the floor. She just managed to save his head from cracking against the toilet.

“Ed?!” In the narrow space of the bathroom floor, Edward’s whole body was suddenly twitching and jerking, his bare automail leg clattering against the floor tiles. A faint gurgling came from his mouth.

“Ed!” Winry gasped. “Ed, can you hear me?!”

There was no answer. His eyes had rolled up into an awful fixed stare, and his head kept spasming in her hands.

“Granny? Granny!” she almost yelled. Terror had her heart beating against her ribs like thunder. “Granny, help!”

It felt like forever, and it felt like half a second, but the old woman was there in the bathroom doorway. She took one look, and Winry saw the sleep-flush drain from her cheeks, but she stayed calm.

“It’s a seizure,” Granny said briskly. “That’s right, put his head in your lap. Last thing we want is him hitting it again. Help me turn him on his side. That’s right. Nothing we can do till it passes. Just let his body work it out.”

Winry’s hands were shaking as she obeyed, but the word ‘seizure’ was actually something she understood, because she had read about that in her parents’ old medical books. Right after the accident she’d dug them out again and read everything she could find about brain and head injuries. Seizures had definitely been mentioned in there. But it was one thing to read about something like that, and another thing entirely to see it happening right in front of her. And to Ed worst of all.

Already the spasms were beginning to slow, the violence easing off. And then they stopped, as suddenly as they had started.

Winry couldn’t help gasping when Ed went all limp, his eyes falling shut. “Ed?!” But then she saw the rise and fall of his shirt over his ribs, and she breathed again too. He’d drooled a little, and that was getting cold on her leg, but she didn’t care. Gently, still a little shaky, she ran her hand over his head, fingers dancing lightly over the scar that ran down behind his left ear. “Ed?” she tried again.

“He might be unconscious,” Granny muttered, bending down to gently pry open Ed’s jaws. “Good, he didn’t bite his tongue. But keep talking to him, so he knows you’re there when he wakes up. He won’t remember any of this.”

“What- what do we do? Should we call Dr. Pence?”

“Not unless it happens again tonight. We’ll call him in the morning.”

Ed looked like he was simply sleeping, and she lifted his head a little so she could sit more comfortably, with her back against the wall. Her hands needed something to do, so she started rubbing his shoulder and down across the back of his neck. That always helped him with a migraine.

Granny had gone out, and came back into the bathroom with a quilt, gently covering Edward with it.

“He’ll be tired out whenever he comes round. Best thing is just to get him back to bed once he’s able to walk.”

“Okay.” Winry felt suddenly exhausted, and hoped she wouldn’t cry because she needed to be there for Ed. She paused and frowned at her grandmother. “How do you know all this, Granny?”

Granny’s face was hard to read. “Known a few people with epilepsy in my time. A girl I knew growing up. There were a couple your father and mother treated, and then there’s Hamish’s son.”

Winry blinked. “Mr. Hamish at the Dry Goods store?”

“Yep.” Granny eyed her sharply. “Are you alright, or do you want me to stay?”

Winry hesitated and looked down at Ed. She wasn’t at all sure how to answer that. She had gotten up knowing Ed was in pain, and ready to help him however she could. Now it felt like when she had first visited Edward in the hospital after the accident. Shocked and trying to process what had just happened and what it all meant. The seizure hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes, even though it had felt like forever. She had gotten out of bed less than fifteen minutes ago, and yet she felt like she had just pulled two all-nighters in a row.

Ed answered the question for her.

She felt his breathing change, quickening, and then he groaned softly.

“Ed?”

“Win?” He cracked his eyes open, and with an effort rolled onto his back so he could look up at her.

“Hey.”

“You’re. Crying,” he said thickly.

“No, I’m not.” She took a few deep breaths, quelling the wave of emotions, and hastily wiped her fingers across her eyes. “It’s okay, Ed. You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

“What happened? Did I pass out?”

“Yeah.” Winry met Granny’s eyes. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, they told each other.

Ed gave a long sigh. “Tired,” he whispered, eyes drifting shut again.

“Alright now, Ed,” Granny spoke up quietly, but firmly. “It’s better if we can get you back to your bed, instead of you sleeping on this hard floor. A lot nicer for you when you wake up, too.”

Ed moaned. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?” Winry asked anxiously.

“All over.”

“Can you sit up?” Granny asked.

With Winry supporting a fair amount of his weight, Ed managed to do so, though he was pretty unsteady. Granny made him drink some water, and that seemed to spark a little something in him. Between the three of them, Ed got safely back into his bed. He was shivering slightly, in his sleeveless shirt and boxers, and Winry pulled the sheets up, tucked the quilt under his chin. He gave her a faint smile, before he was out like a light.

Winry’s knees gave out, and she stumbled back into the armchair that was always kept near Ed’s bed now.

“There now,” Granny muttered, patting her shoulder. “We’ll get the doc out in the morning, and he’ll tell us what to do next.”

“Is- is he gonna have to go back to the hospital?”

“Dunno. Probably, so they can run tests.”

Granny’s arm around her was strong and steady, and Winry leaned into it.

“Is it going to happen again? The seizure, I mean.”

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I wish Al was here.”

“We’ll have to write to him. He’d want to know as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do that. I don’t think I’m going to be able to go back to sleep.”

Granny eyed her. “You make sure to call me if anything changes.”

“Yes, Granny. Thank you. For everything.”

“My pleasure.” Granny padded silently out of the room.

Winry sat for a long time, just watching Ed sleep. Her heart ached. With his hair starting to grow back in, he was looking more like himself, and she thought of nursing him after his original transmutation injuries and then the automail surgery. When the fever would finally break and the pain would ease and he would lie, completely surrendered to his slumber.

His even, deep breathing soothed her, and eventually she pushed herself up to find some paper. Each of the brothers had a desk in the room, and she went straight to Al’s, because you could never find anything in the mess Ed kept on his.

By the yellow light of the lamp by the door, she finally settled down to write, glancing up every sentence or so. Just to check.

Dear Al,

I know you said I was to write you immediately if anything changed with Ed, no matter what he said, so I’m writing now. He’s asleep, so he can’t tell me not to.

»»»«««

Ed had his second seizure right there in the lobby of the hospital in East City.

They’d waved goodbye to Dr. Pence’s wife Janet, who had done them the kindness of driving them all the way to the city, not five minutes ago, and were just sitting together, waiting for a nurse to come and tell them where to go next. She was holding Ed’s hand.

Ed was sitting quite still, watching the people move around them, but she could tell he wasn’t really seeing them. He’d hardly said two words all day, since she and Granny told him about what had happened.

And then it was happening again.

Somehow it was almost worse this time.

His hand tightened painfully around hers, his head was jerking, his whole body flooded with spasms. Winry managed to brace him, and let him down to the floor gently enough. Then nurses were swarming, people were calling things to each other, and Winry was gently, but firmly pushed aside.

For a minute she couldn’t see his face, and then she did, and that was scary. Blood on his lips and chin, trickling down from the corner of his mouth. She must have made some noise, because one of the crouching nurses looked up over her shoulder.

“He’s just bit his tongue, dear. It’s not the worst thing that can happen.”

That just scared Winry more. Because what was the worst thing that could happen? Well, death, of course. The medical books had said that people could die from seizures, if they lasted long enough.

“Ed,” she tried to say, but the fear choked her.

Sitting beside Ed’s hospital bed, watching darkness fall outside while Ed slept, Winry couldn’t remember the last time she felt so alone. Sure, a few of the nurses remembered her from Ed’s last stay, and the doctor was the same woman. But none of them were here with her. They worked here, they might have been there for her if Ed needed anything, but they weren’t here with her.

Feet passed in the hall, and voices chattered and laughed. Outside, street lights were coming on, and windows were lighting up. Stuff was happening all around her, yet it seemed so far away. She sat quite still, aching for Ed to open his eyes and speak to her, to try to reassure her, longing for the door to open behind her and let someone in who would be strong and warm and sympathetic and who knew them.

She’d called Granny, and posted the letter to Al. But Granny was at home, and Al was in Xing, and it was just her sitting beside her best friend-turned-boyfriend’s hospital bed. Who else did she have? Gracia was wonderful friend, but she and Elicia lived in Central. Winry didn’t know anyone who lived in East City.

Oh! No, wait. Of course, there was one person! But… should she call her? Wouldn’t she be busy? But she’d been so kind when Ed was in the hospital last time, letting Winry sleep at her flat overnight a few times. She’d been the one to comfort Winry through at least one break-down back then, when Ed hadn’t remembered her visit the previous day. She’d even given Winry her private number, as well as the extension on the government line. That was a clear invitation right there.

Still Winry hesitated. She didn’t know if she could handle putting in the effort to reach out to someone and then having it fail. But she was also getting dangerously close to a full breakdown, and she just needed someone. Captain Riza Hawkeye would be a wonderful someone to talk to right now.

Winry stood on unsteady legs, and leaned over to whisper, “I’ve just got to make a call, Ed. I’ll be back.”

It took her a couple minutes to find a phone she could use, and then she had to dig through the backpack she had brought from home to find the paper with the numbers. She glanced at the clock, realized how late it was getting, and dialled the home number.

Two rings, before the click of it being picked up.

“Hello, Riza Hawkeye speaking.”

Winry gulped. “Um, Riza? It’s Winry.” She couldn’t keep the shake out of her voice.

“Winry?” There was a pause. “You sound upset. What’s happened?”

“It’s- um–” Winry leaned against the wall near the nurse’s desk, and shaded her eyes with one hand. “It’s Ed. He’s in hospital again, and- and–”

“You’re in the city?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alone?”

Winry nodded, then remembered she was talking on the telephone. “Yeah,” she whispered.

There was a moment’s silence, then something rustling. “Alright,” came Riza’s calm, comforting voice. “I can be there in 20 minutes. I just need to give Hayate his dinner, and then I’ll catch a cab. Will you be okay until then?”

Winry blinked and there were tears on her cheeks before she could stop them. “Yes.”

“Crying is okay,” Riza said softly. “Just don’t forget to breathe, too.”

“Okay.”

“What room number are you?”

“Um, 154. It’s on the same hallway as last time.”

“Copy that. See you soon, Winry.”

“Okay.” Winry swiped her free hand across her cheeks. “Thank you, Riza.”

“My pleasure.”

There came the click of the receiver being hung up, but Winry didn’t feel nearly so alone any more.

»»»«««

“I just don’t want things to be like they were before.” Winry sniffed, and clenched her fist around Riza’s damp handkerchief. “When he was staying in his room all the time and not talking and barely eating. I don’t want him to end up back there!”

Riza rubbed her hand across Winry’s shoulder soothingly. They were sitting against the wall, in the hallway outside Ed’s room. One look at Riza’s kind face as the woman entered, and Winry had barely made it out of the room before she dissolved into sobbing.

“How has he responded to this so far?”

More tears welled up. “He’s barely said two words to me. And if he’s eaten anything, I didn’t see it.”

“Yes, that is worrisome,” Riza sighed.

“But that’s what I’m really scared of. Him acting like he’s gonna give up. Because Ed doesn’t give up, not really. It was Al who really helped him through the worst last year. But Al’s not here, and how can I help Ed be brave when I’m scared myself?”

“Courage is not the absence of fear.” Riza sounded as if she were quoting something. “It is being afraid, and doing things anyway. You and Edward, and Alphonse, are some of the most courageous young people I’ve ever known. Between the three of you, you’ll find a way. And if you’re struggling, call me. Call Gracia Hughes. Call the Brigadier General. Call any of us. We’ll be here.”

Winry rested her head on Riza’s shoulder. “Okay. Thank you.”

“By the way, have you already written to Al?”

“Posted a letter this morning.”

“Hmm. Even with the trains, it will likely be a couple days till he gets it. I can make a few calls. Try to get a message through faster. When the Brigadier General hears, I know he’ll help in any way he can.”

“Thank you,” Winry whispered.

Oh, it was good to have someone like Riza to lean on. She was so strong and capable and steady, and she made Winry feel like a little sister.

Growing up, Winry had never really gotten close to any of the neighbour girls. She knew them, they would chat in town sometimes, but none of them had ever been her friend, let alone best friend. No, those had been the Elric’s. She was the odd girl, who grew up with two boys for best friends, and automail for her calling. And that was fine. Usually. But when it wasn’t, having someone to call made all the difference in the world.

They sat quietly for a few minutes longer, before Winry sat up straight, and took a deep breath. “We should probably check on Ed.”

Riza stood up at once, brushed her pants off, and offered Winry a hand. “Will you be alright if I make those phone calls now?”

Winry bit her lip, then nodded. Anything to get Al here sooner was a win in her book.

Riza smiled, and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be back.”

Winry watched her stride down the hallway, her shoulders squared. Even with her hair down, Riza Hawkeye could be taken for nothing but a soldier on a mission, and Winry was very glad to have the woman on her side. Spirits bolstered, Winry slipped back into the room where she had left Ed sleeping.

The lighting was softer than in the hall, and a pair of golden eyes so dull they looked brown, met hers as she looked to the bed.

“Ed! You’re awake.” She almost ran to his side, and grabbed his hand. “How do you feel?”

When he spoke, it seemed to take a great effort. “It happened again.”

No question, just a search for confirmation. His flat, hopeless tone made Winry’s heart hurt.

“A seizure? Yeah. But we were already at the hospital, so they were able to help you probably better than Granny and I could alone.”

His gaze drifted down to their clasped hands, but before Winry could make up her mind about whether or not he wanted her to let go, he squeezed her fingers. Her relief at the gesture was short-lived, however, because he then sat back and closed his eyes again.

“Hey, Ed,” she tried, “are you hungry? I haven’t seen you eat all day; you must be starving.”

“Not really,” he muttered.

A mix of fear and frustration welled up in Winry. “Ed, please. You need to eat something. You have to keep your strength up. You still haven’t even gained back the weight you lost after the accident, and if you’re going to deal with this now, you need to help your body even more.” She propped her fists on her hips. “Do you want me to get that Brigadier General Mustang in here to give you orders?”

Ed’s head jerked up, and he shot her a glare that was a mere shadow of his usual look. But at least it was a spark. “Last I checked, I wasn’t in the military anymore. He’s not my CO. I’m a civilian. He can’t order me around.”

Winry sighed. “I’m not saying you have to drink nothing but milk, Ed. Just eat something. I’m hungry too, and it’s more comfortable if we make a meal out of it.”

Ed made a huffing sound, followed by a subdued eye-roll. “Well, what is there?” he finally muttered.

Winry smiled. “Actually…” She knelt to unzip her backpack. “I brought food from home. I remembered how you complained about the hospital food last time.”

Proudly, she pulled out the lunch box she had filled, flipped the lid open, and turned to offer it to Ed. But the look on his face froze her.

He was staring with all his trademark intensity, not at the food, but at her—with a kind of raw hunger that might have made her blush, if it wasn’t for the terrible sadness welling behind it.

He was looking at her as if he had never loved her more. And it was breaking his heart.

He blinked, the moment broke, and he was reaching for the box of food, asking if she’d brought any of that lemon cake she had said she made. As if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t seen anything.

“Yes, I brought cake, but eat a sandwich first,” was what she said, but inside she was dizzy from the impact of that gaze.

“Edward, you’re awake!”

“Lieuten- ah, Captain Hawkeye.” Ed gave her a little wave with his sandwich, then frowned. “Wait. Mustang isn’t here, is he?” His scowl switched to Winry. “I thought–”

Riza laughed, and came to sit at the foot of Ed’s hospital bed. “No, it’s just me tonight. I did just finish a call with the Brigadier General. He sends his regards, and will see about getting a message through to Alphonse in Xing as quickly as he can.”

“What? Al doesn’t need to come home for this,” Ed protested. “I’m fine.”

Riza fixed him with a cool stare. “If it was Al, wouldn’t you want to know?”

Ed’s shoulders dropped, and he grumpily went back to munching on his cheese and ham. “Hey, how’s Havoc doing?” he mumbled through a full mouth.

Riza smiled. “Oh, he’s doing well. He’s been on that new physical therapy regime for over a year now, and it’s working wonders. Breda swears he’ll be walking again someday if he keeps it up.”

Ed looked pleased. “Where’s, umm… Maria Ross these days?”

Winry was grateful for the easy chatter of Riza and Ed catching up, reminiscing about this person and that adventure. It meant she didn’t have to weigh in. Ed’s look had shaken her—the love and the pain, the twin flames of joy and suffering that something about her inspired him to burn with.

What was she missing? What was he not telling her that had bled into his eyes in that unguarded moment?

At least Riza’s visit seemed to cheer Ed up. He even chuckled a few times, and he made Riza laugh twice. He praised the lemon cake, and even Riza tried a little, and altogether the room felt much freer and brighter, by the time Riza stood up to leave.

“Well, I’m sorry to go, but I do need to let Hayate out before bed.” She smiled warmly at Ed. “It’s been wonderful to see you, Edward, even if the circumstances are unfortunate. I’ll let you know when we get in touch with Alphonse, and I’m sure some of the others will stop by to visit, if that’s alright with you.”

Ed shrugged. “If they want to, I guess.” Already he sounded down again.

Riza turned to Winry. “Do you want to sleep here tonight, or at my place? If you want to stay here, I can ask them to set up a cot for you.”

“Here, thank you.” Winry managed a grateful smile.

“No.” Ed was scowling at her. “You shouldn’t stay here. You won’t get enough rest. You’ll sleep better in a proper home.”

Winry frowned back. “I don’t care, I want to be with you. I need to be with you. I can’t just leave you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine!”

“And what if you aren’t, and I’m not here?!”

Ed winced, and she sank back into her chair, throttled down her voice. “I’m staying to take care of you, okay? So shut up and get enough of your own sleep, because you have a lot of tests coming tomorrow.”

They glared at each other until Riza quietly spoke up. “I’ll let the nurses know on my way out. Ed, behave yourself. Winry, take care of yourself too.”

Winry huffed out a sigh, and tried to give Riza a genuine farewell smile as she got up to hug her. “Thank you for everything.”

“He’s not really angry at you,” Riza murmured in her ear. “I know it’s hard, but try to remember that.”

Winry nodded against the other woman’s shoulder, savouring the warmth of the embrace, before she stepped back.

Riza paused once more in the open doorway, glanced back over her shoulder. “Oh, Ed? You know, Havoc always says, ‘If the chief could do it, I can do it.’ I think he’d want me to tell you that.” Then she was gone, and the door clicked shut, and there was a long, long silence.

»»»«««

Ed seized again that night.

Winry was starting to feel as if she were in a living nightmare, as if maybe she was really just still in bed back home, hearing Ed throw up in the bathroom, and she wasn’t actually quite awake yet. Because this was all happening too fast to be real.

When Ed finally woke shortly before noon, he spoke only in grunts, and listened stone-faced to the doctor, while Winry asked the questions.

It was mostly stuff that Winry had heard or read already. Seizures were always possible after a serious head injury; there was no real cure for it, but they did have a medication that could help to reduce frequency and intensity; they would do tests on Ed’s brain to see if anything had changed since Ed left the hospital last time; etc., etc., etc.

Dr. Santis was kind, with a sarcastic side that had endeared her to Ed last time, but nothing she said really helped. Winry could tell she wished she could tell them everything would be okay, that she wished as much as they did for a quick fix and a return to normal life. But it wasn’t there, there were no promises she could make, and after she had finished explaining how they would be able to map the electrical impulses on Ed’s brain (which she said they had done before, though this was the first Winry had heard of it), even she seemed subdued.

She would let them have lunch, Dr. Santis said, and then the nurses would come by to take Ed to the room where the machine was set up for the test. Then she bowed out quietly, and left them sitting in more silence.

Ed lay back, and closed his eyes. Winry watched him breathing, faster than when he slept.

“I got some things at a little shop across the street, when you were still asleep earlier. They had these honey buns with almonds–”

He shook his head.

The lump was back in Winry’s throat, and it felt as if Ed’s silence was suffocating her. Because when was Ed ever silent about how he felt? When he was scared. And that scared her. But they couldn’t go on like this. Whatever it was about, they needed to have a conversation. If Ed couldn’t bring himself to it, Winry would have to do it for both of them.

Quietly, she moved from the chair to the edge of the bed, sitting quite close, and pulling one leg up so she could face him fully. He stirred, sighed, opened his eyes. The dullness in them cut her to the quick, and she reached out to smooth her free hand over his spiky hair.

They were still holding hands from when the doctor came in, his right in her left, and now she switched hers to make it more comfortable. She avoided his gaze as she ran her fingers through the short golden strands, down the unmarred side of his head. From there she dropped her hand to his shoulder, brushing over the scars that peeked out from the collar of his hospital shirt, and then briefly massaging the place where metal had once met flesh.

He sighed again, and gently pulled his hand free of hers. She blinked, surprised, but it was his turn to not meet her eyes, concentrating on his own hand, as he reached to brush her hair back from her cheek. The brush of his fingertips over her ear, as he tucked the hair behind it, sent a shiver through Winry. For a moment he pressed his palm to her cheek, and finally their eyes met.

There! It was the same look as last night, the love and the longing, yet… the sadness was so much deeper.

His gaze dropped with his hand into her lap, where he took her hand again, lacing their fingers together. And still, he didn’t speak.

Winry swallowed hard. “Ed. Ed, can we talk? About this? About the seizures, and what you’re thinking? You’ve hardly said a word. Except for talking to Riza last night about everything other than why we’re actually back in the hospital. Please. We need to talk.”

Ed’s chin had dropped to his chest, as if he wished for his long bangs to hide his face. “What is there to talk about?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know. I just… want to know what you’re thinking. Because I know you’re thinking, even when you’re not talking. And I can’t read your mind, Edward Elric.”

A huff from Ed, and he looked up at her. “You wanna know what I’m thinking?”

There was almost a dare in his tone, and she took a deep breath. “Yeah, of course I do.”

A sad little smile twisted his lips, and he gazed at their clasped hands now resting on his thigh. “I’m thinking I must be the most selfish man alive.”

All Winry could say was: “What?”

“Sitting here, holding your hand, when I should just let you go.”

“Wha- what do you mean?” How was that selfish? This wasn’t making sense. “I like it when you hold my hand.”

His deep breath was shaky. “Do you remember what I said right before I left, at the train station?”

Winry smiled involuntarily. “Yeah.” How could I forget?

“I was… I was asking you to marry me.”

This time Winry couldn’t hold back a little laugh, even as she felt her cheeks heat up. “Yeah, I know. I figured that out. And I said yes.”

Ed’s long moment of silence made her smile falter.

“Well. Maybe you should reconsider.” His voice was low and pained, but determined.

“Why?!” That came out sharper than she intended.

“Because this isn’t what you said ‘yes’ to!” His chin came up, his eyes were blazing again. “Winry, look at me. I could seize and die at any time. I could!”

“The medication–”

“But it won’t fix anything. Not really. Nothing can. This wasn’t in the plan. None of this was! And now it’s never going to go away. Do you understand that? Never! I will be at risk for the rest. Of. My. Life. I mean, I know I shortened my lifespan a little, but not that much. This was not supposed to happen! But it has, and now I have to deal with it, and I am not making you deal with it too.”

“I’m already dealing with it!”

“Not for the rest of your life, you’re not!” He was breathing fast, glowering at her. “What kind of future do you think you could have with me? What kind of husband or father could I be if I’m going to be falling down with seizures out of nowhere any time? I mean the headaches and everything were bad enough, but this?! I will not let you waste your life on me, Winry. I won’t!”

He was sitting up now, so their faces weren’t more a foot apart. She could feel the heat of his emotions, the depth of where this explosion was coming from. And yet… something about it all seemed wrong. She thought of the way he had just touched her face, the way he had looked at her last night, how he’d taken up the habit of kissing her cheek when he thanked her for supper, the way he’d hugged her for so long when he came home from that first research trip.

So her heart was in her throat, and the back of her eyes burned, as she choked out the question: “But, Ed. Do you want me to marry someone else?”

Tears, flooding his anguished eyes, and the tremble in his lips, answered her more eloquently than any words. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he choked out. “What matters is what you need, and what you need–”

She leaned in to kiss him.

Honestly, it was the only sure-fire way left to both shut him up, and tell him exactly how she felt. He jerked back just before their lips touched, but she was ready for that and followed through.

His lips were dry and chapped, but they were warm, and she stayed there, eyes closed, waiting for him to breathe again.

Several seconds ticked past, before his breath brushed across her cheek, and then his lips softened against hers, and at last he was kissing her back.

It took a few moments more, but he shifted to lean into her, and gently she pulled away. Because really, she had things she needed to say, and if she let herself get lost there, there was no telling how long it would take for them to surface.

Ed’s eyes were huge and dazed, and she allowed herself a breathless laugh. They both cleared their throats at the same moment, but she spoke first.

“And what I need is you, Edward Elric.”

He caught his breath, opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “No, it’s your turn to listen to me, you self-sacrificing idiot. This is exactly what I said ‘yes’ to. You sharing your life with me, me sharing my life with you. Even when it’s bad and scary and no, it isn’t fair that this happened. It isn’t fair at all. But I will not let you deal with any of this by yourself.

“You’ve never let anything stop you before—not losing half your limbs, not any one of the injuries you’ve had, not fighting entire governments, not even giving up alchemy—and this is going to be no different. Yes, it’s gonna be hard and scary and all that. Neither of us knows how much pain the road could hold. But you have to promise me you’ll keep going. Because I want to take every step down that road with you.

“Ed, I’m the one who made you your automail! I’ve seen you covered in blood and crying and busted up. I’ve already seen you at your worst, and that’s when I fell in love with you in the first place. So why should that change now? Do you hear me? None of it could be hard enough to make me want to leave. I will wish all of this had never happened, but I will never wish that I didn’t love you.”

She had to stop to catch her breath, and Ed took the opportunity to gently wipe the tears off her cheeks, though that only caused more to well up.

“Please,” she finally squeaked out. “Please don’t ever tell me to leave you.”

Ed had to clear his throat and swallow hard a few times, but there was hope filling his eyes, and a smile on his lips when he finally spoke.

“I am a selfish bastard. What was I thinking? Half? How could I give you anything less than all of me?”

Winry choked on a laughing sob, because there! That was her Edward, shining through.

“Winry Rockbell,” he gathered her hands in his, looked her in the eye, “will you marry me?”

With a deep breath, Winry mustered all the composure she had left, and stared straight back. “Yes, Edward Elric. Yes, I will marry you.”

She had never seen that particular light in his eyes before, turning them the colour of a sunrise. 

This time he was the one who kissed her.

It was sweet with the love, and it was salty with the tears, and when the nurse came in to ask them about lunch, they broke apart red-faced and laughing.

»»»«««

The curtains had been pulled to, and only a single light glowed by the door.

Winry heard the hospital bed squeak as Ed rolled over, and on her cot she did the same without thinking.

“Hey, Win?” came his whisper across the room.

“Yeah?”

A long silence. “Goodnight.”

She smiled in the dark, weary but grateful. He’d had his fourth seizure during the electroencephalogram, which Dr. Santis had actually been happy about, because she said it was good to be able to measure the brain waves during a seizure, and compare them to the normal readings. As awful as the seizures were, Winry was starting to get used to them. A little. And he still hadn’t hit his head on anything, or incurred any injuries other than biting his tongue, so that was a small blessing.

So far there was still no obvious trigger of the seizures, and he never remembered having them. He would come out of it, talk a little, and then fall asleep as soon as he was comfortable. Only when he woke up a few hours or so later, was he really aware and cognizant. She supposed this would have been a lot harder if they hadn't already been through so much. 

“Hey, Ed?”

“Yeah?”

There was one other thing that had been bothering her, another thing she thought needed to be said while they were in this place of talking and being honest with each other.

“You know Al loves you, right?”

A beat of silence, then soft laughter, filled with affection and tinged with longing. “Of course, I do.”

“Then you know how far he’ll go to help you.”

Ed’s low exhale, before he rolled onto his back. Winry could see his profile against the warm, yellow light, and she would have bet that a part of him wasn’t even there, but was sitting beside his little brother, racing toward home through the desert night on a west-bound train.

Winry went on quietly. “You swore to him that you’d find a way to bring him back, to make him whole again. And he put his faith in you. Al will go to the ends of the earth to find a way to heal you, and he’s smart enough to do it to. So maybe it’s time for you to put your faith in him.”

After a long-enough silence to make her wonder if he had fallen asleep, she heard his bed creak, his voice clearer as he turned toward her again.

“Winry? Do people ever tell you you’re amazing? Cause you are.”

She was smiling, warmth filling her insides, and she pulled the hospital blanket up to her chin.

“And beautiful,” His voice dropped to a sleepy mumble. “So beautiful.”

“Goodnight,” she finally whispered.

There was no reply.