Work Text:
Winry starts reading anatomy texts for comfort.
She sits at her desk for hours into the dead of the night, the candle on her desk acting as her only source of light. She absorbs as much information as she can until she falls asleep on the book.
Granny catches her one night and gives her a sad smile. She takes the book from her and tells her to go to sleep.
Winry bites her lip and stomps to her bed, tears flowing down her face with each step.
She dreams of tendons stretching across muscle and bone and nerve endings.
She wakes up cranky and scowling until Granny tells her stop and tosses some old clothes at her.
“Not afraid of blood are you?”
“No,” Winry says as she tugs the shirt over her head. She shakes her head to emphasize her point. “Why?”
Granny smirks and motions for her to get off the bed. “Good. You’re goiing to watch an automail surgery today.”
Winry’s mouth falls open and she closes it immediately when her heart starts to pound with excitement, and a voice rings in her head (“You look like a fish when you do that, Winry.”).
Granny leaves the room and Winry chases after her.