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Winry descended the stairs slowly, still a little groggy from sleep. She pulled her cardigan around herself tightly, yawning as she entered the kitchen and poured herself a cup of water. As she sipped, staring out at the pitch blackness of the Risembool sky, Winry found that her cardigan was not helping her.
The girl stepped into the living room, where the fire smoldered low. She stood still for a moment to warm herself. The old house always grabbed onto a chill as soon as it settled.
She heard Den whining and the click-click-click of her nails and Automail on the floor. The dog brushed up against Winry’s leg and the girl bent to pet her, but Den just kept prodding her and pacing around impatiently.
“What’s wrong, girl?” Winry whispered. She stepped towards Den and the dog led her down the hall with urgency. At first, Winry didn’t see anything, but when her eyes adjusted, she saw a shadow. She flicked on the lights.
Curled up in a little ball on the floor was Edward. Winry hurried to him, kneeling down to see if he was hurt. “Ed! What are you doing?” Den sat down at the end of the hall, watching as if to guard the two of them.
“Winry?!” He exclaimed, breathless with terror. He looked almost like a baby bird—swallowed up by a huge, threadbare sweater he’d had his whole life, a pair of pajama pants, and wool socks.
“It’s me. Calm down, okay?”
Her words seemed to reach him and he was able to take a slow breath, but then his eyes suddenly locked onto something behind her and his whole body stiffened. “N-no!”
Winry threw a glance over her shoulder. Nothing. She turned back to Ed. “There’s nothing here. It’s okay, try to take some breaths.”
“Winny, get behind me. I won’t let it hurt you!“ Ed brought his hands up as if to clap and transmute, forgetting he had no such abilities anymore.
She took hold of either of his hands and he looked at her like she was crazy. His yellow eyes were blown out, his skin pale and shining with sweat. His palms, clasped tightly against hers, seemed to scald her.
So that’s what it was—a fever. Edward always had violent night terrors whenever he became feverish. It was something she had learned to help with starting when they were tiny.
“Ed, look at me,” Winry said gently. He did, briefly, but then tried to crane over her shoulder to see behind her again. “No,” she reiterated, “look at me. There’s nothing here but us, okay? You’re dreaming.”
His mouth opened, then closed back. She saw his eyes start to shimmer. Winry let go of one of his hands and lightly brushed the hair off his forehead so she could feel. His skin was fiery, radiating heat without her even having to touch.
“Keep looking at me,” she prompted, “you’re completely safe. There’s no one in here but us, I promise.”
Edward blinked rapidly, golden eyelashes fanning his cheeks. “Winny…”
Her heart skipped a beat when he used that nickname for her. “Yep, I’m right here. I’m not gonna leave.” Eventually, he went from shaking in terror to staring at her blankly. Winry had no idea if that was any better. Impulsively, she cupped one side of his jaw, lightly stroking her thumb over the curve of his cheek.
“Ed, are you awake?”
He swallowed, collecting himself. “Yeah.” His lips were pressed together just slightly, his brows furrowed and eyes shining.
“You were dreaming. How long have you been out of bed?” She asked softly, continuing to fuss with Ed’s hair.
“I don’t know. Maybe an hour. I’m…sorry.”
Winry bristled. That word was always loaded coming from him. “No need to apologize, I’m just worried. You have a fever, will you let me help you?”
“With what?”
“Getting better, silly. C’mon, can you walk?” She gently helped him to his feet, guiding him to the living room where she sat him on the couch.
Ed’s eyelids fluttered briefly, but he seemed to snap out of it. Winry tossed him a pillow to squeeze for comfort and retrieved a glass of water, forcing him to take little sips until he’d downed about half.
“Okay, what do you need? How are you feeling?” Winry asked, planting her fists on either hip and looking down at him sternly. She was expecting him to start insisting he was fine.
Like clockwork. “I’m f—“
She cut him off. “You’re not fine. You’re as pale as death and shaking like a leaf. Now tell me how you feel.”
Edward somehow pouted despite his miserable state. He kept his head down, idly squishing the pillow on his lap with either hand. He reminded Winry of a cat kneading. “Tired. Pissed off,” he said pointedly.
“Don’t give me lip or I’ll spit in your Automail,” she joked. “If you’re tired, are you ready to go back to bed?”
He shook his head vigorously, seeming genuinely upset by the idea of sleeping once more, but quickly returned to his cool exterior, pretending it didn’t happen.
“I can stay with you in your room, how about that?” Winry said.
Edward paused, looking away and blushing in a way that told her that was exactly what he wanted. “‘s up to you, Win…”
“Well, I’m tired too. Let’s try to get some sleep, ‘kay?” She smiled, helping him to his feet.
The walk up the stairs was slow, with Winry supporting Edward’s weakened body. Whenever he became ill, the weight of his Automail did him no favors—he was essentially dragging his prosthetic leg. She wished there was a way to make it all better, to somehow make a perfect prosthesis for him that would never hurt him.
Ed took every chance to praise her for her work, to thank her again and again for putting up with his antics and always striving to build him the best Automail. She appreciated it, but some part of her nagged that she would never be worth her salt until she could make Automail that wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was a childish desire, something naïve and unrealistic, but that came from one too many times where Edward came home to her battered and broken. She could only tolerate so many years of seeing him suffer. She just wished she could make it stop.
She chewed her lip, watching Edward wince at every movement. She saw sweat trickling under his collar. This was easily the worst fever he’d had in a while, unless he and his brother had withheld another instance. In that case, a firm scolding would be due, but that was the least of her concerns.
Electing not to wake up Alphonse by sneaking Edward back into their shared room, Winry made a detour to her room instead, laying him on the bed and smoothing his bangs away from his face. He seemed like he might say something, but she was out of the room before he could. Winry returned to the kitchen and made him a cup of Pinako’s herbal tea, which tasted absolutely foul but would help bring down his fever.
Tea in hand, she entered her room and turned to Ed. “You’re gonna drink this, okay?”
“More medicine?” He whined, screwing his eyes shut tight. He accepted the cup when she gave it to him, though. A cursory sniff made him grimace. “This is that stuff Granny makes us drink…”
“Yep. It helps with the fever,” Winry said pointedly as she cleared some tools and Automail pieces off the foot of her bed.
Taking the hint, Ed pinched his nose and drank the tea quickly. He handed her the empty cup afterwards, earning him a smile from her.
“Alright, time for bed,” she announced, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed.
“Win—are you sure?” He asked, a little pathetically. “I don’t wanna bother you.”
“You can barely move.”
He just grumbled, rather petulantly, but quickly clammed up once Winry placed an icy towel on his forehead and crawled into bed beside him, sitting upright against the headboard so his head was right next to her thigh.
“Lights on or off?” Winry asked as she fussed with the covers, and she took Ed’s hesitation to mean “on.” She turned down the lamp slightly, settling in and giving his hand a squeeze.
He shifted, looking up at her with blown-out eyes. “You’re not gonna sleep?”
“I’ll sit up for a while so I can change the rag once it gets warm. I want to make sure your fever goes down.” Winry smiled at him, poking his forehead through the towel. “Don’t worry about me, just get some rest.”
“Don’t stay up all night for me…I hate when you do that.”
“I said don’t worry,” she scolded. “Let me take care of you, okay?”
Ed huffed, relaxing into Winry’s touch as she ran her nails over his scalp, arranging his hair in swirling patterns on the pillow. She had always been captivated with his hair, how it stayed so silky no matter what he did to it, shining like spun gold.
She got ready for a long night, propping open a book in her lap with her free hand. It wasn’t a particularly interesting read, but it was enough to keep her awake. She found her thoughts wandering and fought to maintain her attention, but her eyes drifted away and she kept losing her place.
Edward smushed his face against her hip, letting out a long, heavy sigh. Winry adjusted the cold rag on his forehead, then moved her hand to rest on his head.
Whenever she saw him like this, whether it be asleep, relaxing, or otherwise at peace, she couldn’t help but feel a pang. Against all odds her Edward had braved it all. Even after so long she wasn’t used to him being with her, no longer a state alchemist or even an alchemist at all. He was just Edward, and he was everything she had ever wanted.
She had no idea how to tell him that, or if she should at all. Her feelings about him only grew stronger over time, threatening to overflow if she wasn’t careful. She told herself it was teenage hormones; Ed was one of the only boys she knew who was the same age as her. It was logical that she would eventually have a crush on him, right? But the crush had festered for so long she didn’t know what to think anymore.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he felt the same way. She remembered a moment not so long ago, his Automail fingers slipping into her palm, both of his hands cupping hers as he had told her that she was not meant to kill. Edward, who had seen so much in his short life, was so certain of Winry’s nature, her inclination to heal. The way he held her, the look on his face when he left her to help Alphonse—like his heart was being torn out. And she had felt the same pain. She wondered if it had shown in her eyes the same way it had in his. In that moment she remembered wishing harder than she ever had that things could just be different.
She didn’t even know what she wanted instead, just that she wanted change. And it kept her up at night until Edward came home to her after the Promised Day, living proof that her dream had somehow come true. She would never know what she had done to deserve it, but every day she was grateful.
“Winry, you’re not even reading,” Ed grumbled, snapping her out of her thoughts. Seeing him laying next to her now, where his biggest problem was that he currently had a fever, was nearly enough to make her cry. But she knew how much he hated to see her cry.
“I am too. I just zoned out for a second.” She stuck her tongue out.
“Yeah? Then what’s happening in the book?” He asked smugly.
She blanked, frantically scanning the page to get an inkling.
“That’s what I thought,” Ed rolled his eyes and she felt her cheeks heat up. “Go to sleep.”
“I have to stay up so I can keep an eye on you,” Winry reminded him with another poke to his forehead. “But I guess I’ll lay down if you insist.”
She shimmied down under the covers, adjusting the pillow to her liking. Edward immediately threw an arm over her waist and she turned to face him. “Your fever will never break if you have my body heat.”
He blushed, glancing away. “What if I have another dream?”
Her heart twisted—she didn’t miss the shake in his voice. Reluctantly, she scooted up close to him and tucked her face under his chin. His arms snaked around her, and she felt the hesitation in his movements. She looped her arm around his waist, sighing into his chest. “Do you need to talk about it? What exactly did you see?”
He was quiet for a long time, and she thought he might not say anything. “I saw the thing I made. When, uh…” he swallowed hard. “When I tried to bring Mom back.”
“Oh, Ed…” Winry squeezed him tight.
He lightly picked up a strand of her hair, running his fingers down the length of it as he tried to distract himself. “Whenever I see it in my dreams it’s always hurting someone. I don’t even know how it would.“
“It’s natural to be scared. You went through a lot.”
“I wish it wouldn’t happen. I feel stupid making you take care of me because of it.”
“You’re not making me do anything—I want to help you. And you have a fever,” she reminded, “a bad one. It’s nothin’ to sneeze at, especially since your immune system is still weak.”
“I feel weak in general,” Edward confessed in a small voice. “What if something happens and I can’t protect you?”
“What could happen?” Winry asked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “You defeated Father. It’s all over and behind you now. And not everything is about Alchemy anyways—“
“I’m not talkin’ about alchemy,” he said with a small smile. “I haven’t regretted giving it up once. It’s just an adjustment, is all. What I’m worried about is the fact that I can’t fight anymore, and I’m not farm strong, either, so I can’t help out around the house…especially if I keep getting sick.”
“I know it’s going to take you a while to get used to it, but I promise the most dangerous thing here in Risembool is the livestock. It’s just like it was when we were growing up. There’s no homunculi or doll soldiers…” she trailed off with a shudder. “…so there’s nothing for you to protect us from. Just focus on getting better, ‘kay?”
“Evil people are always gonna exist in the world. All it takes is—“
“Please stop worrying,” Winry said. “It’s not good for your health, and more than that…I hate seeing you so worked up. I promise everything is alright, and if it isn’t, we’ll deal with it together. You don’t always have to be the strong one, Ed. I know you have been for years, but it’s over and now you can rest.”
Something inside him seemed to break at her words. He curled into himself slightly, and after a moment Winry realized he was tearing up. His breaths came as shudders.
She quickly wrapped her arms around him. “Edward…you are the most resilient person I’ve ever met. You deserve some peace, don’t you think? You’ve suffered so much.”
“I’m not used to it,” he choked out, burying his face in her neck, “I can’t believe I get to stay home with you for so long, and I haven’t gotten hurt in a pretty long time, and I get to eat all your cooking…I’m scared to sleep lately, because I keep thinkin’ I’ll wake up and find out it was all a dream.”
“It’s all real, trust me. Sometimes I worry about the same thing,” Winry said softly. She ran soothing hands up and down his back and arms.
“You do?” He asked, genuinely surprised.
“Having you back for good is everything I would have wished for, so of course I’m skeptical,” Winry said with a slight smile. “I worried so much about you…I think I’ll have gray hairs by the time I’m twenty.”
“Winny…I’m sorry…I hate that I did that to you.”
“I don’t care, Ed. It was all worth it, you know that.”
“Was it? ‘Cause—“
“Yes,” she said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “You’re worth it.” She thumbed tears away from his cheeks, and he seemed to feel a bit better.
“You’re too damn nice,” he said, though his tone was fond and he held her gaze. Winry felt her cheeks heat, suddenly aware of a strange electricity between them, and unsure what to make of it.
Ed seemed to feel it too—she saw an orangey blush settle over his cheeks, and he glanced all over her face as if memorizing it.
Some kind of infernal demon must have possessed Winry, because she somehow said: “Ed, can I kiss you?”
His entire body stiffened and his face turned a spectacular red. He looked away from her. “Uh—well, I think my lips are really dry, and—what if whatever I have is contagious?”
“If it’s contagious I already have it,” Winry said, though her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Where she got that courage from, she would never know.
Edward sighed. “Win…I’ve never kissed anyone before.” He said it as if it was some kind of shameful secret he’d have to take to his grave.
She giggled. “And you think I have?”
“No way.” He shook his head. “I don’t believe that. There was no one in all this time? Not even in Rush Valley?”
“Of course not, silly. I was working on Automail.” She smiled softly and watched him malfunction for a second. “Should we try and learn together?”
Maybe being so flirty wasn’t the best idea. Ed achieved yet another shade of red, his shoulders tensing up before he frantically nodded.
Swallowing her own nerves, Winry lightly pressed her lips to his, letting her eyes flutter shut. It was only a moment—a chaste, fleeting moment, but she felt dizzy afterwards. She pulled back just slightly and felt his breath in the gap between them. “Was that okay?”
“Yeah,” Ed said breathlessly, “Yeah.”
They both went back in for more, but weren’t anticipating the other to move. Winry got a mouthful of Ed’s teeth and she giggled slightly as they readjusted, feeling his smile against her lips. Edward slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer and trapping his feverish body heat between them.
Winry had no idea how long they laid there, laughing like they were twelve again and learning every wrong way to kiss someone. Ed’s eyes sparkled in the light of her bedside lamp, sunlight even though it was the middle of the night. Her Edward, who she had loved so much for so long.
They’d have to have a talk in the morning, but for now Winry basked in the reckless, childish fun that came with experimenting like this. It was inherently embarrassing, but she never felt it with him. She thought of so many times she never had the courage to ask him, never thought to tell him how she felt. Now she wondered if there was hope for that.
Winry noticed his eyelashes start to flutter. “Getting tired?” She murmured, unable to stop a smile even though her cheeks hurt at this point.
Ed nodded, already snuggling into the pillows. His arms squished her up against him, tucked firmly into place. Winry shifted until she was comfortable, giving him a quick squeeze. “‘Night, Ed.”
“‘Night, Win,” he mumbled, so incoherently she doubted he was awake. Winry felt herself become drowsy as well, lulled to sleep by the comfort of Ed’s embrace.
Some nights, she was scared to sleep for fear of waking up and finding that her new life was all a dream. Tonight, she knew no matter what that it was all real.