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Getting Edward’s arm back and Alphonse’s body does not set everything back to the way it was before. Perhaps it was foolish of Winry to think that once their quest was over they would be ok. Foolish, naive, but not necessarily unreasonable considering how she views the two of them. Her entire life, both of them have been putting on an act, pretending that they were better than they are. Healed, mentally whole, stable.
She could see through it, most of the time, but apparently they had her convinced far more than she thought they did.
When the fighting is done Edward goes quiet. Not immediately, not when they take Alphonse to the hospital, and not even when Winry and Pinako have to do extensive surgery to remove the metal remains of his Automail arm from his shoulder. He’s chatty and normal and happy, until about a month later when he just shuts down.
Alphonse is still in the hospital recovering from severe malnutrition and regaining his strength, slowly but surely. Winry wanted to stay in Central with them, but it hadn’t been reasonable. So after a few weeks and Edward’s surgery, she returned home with her grandmother.
She talked to Alphonse every couple of days, and Edward almost never, but Alphonse told her that he comes to visit every day and is just a little too busy for phone calls. Now, though she thinks it may have been something else keeping him from calling.
Answering a call from Central and hearing Alphonse on the either end is neither surprising nor unwelcome, but his voice is shaking and he sounds extremely upset, which she had not expected.
“Is everything ok?” she asks, frightened. No shortage of terrible things could’ve happened since she last spoke with him three days ago, and somehow all of them immediately flick through her brain.
“I’m not sure,” Alphonse admits. He sounds the same as when he was in that armor, but the awful metallic echo is gone. Winry relishes in it every time she hears it. “I haven’t seen my brother in a few days.” That is very odd indeed. “And he hasn’t called, and no one else has heard from him either.” Even stranger.
“How many days?”
“The last time I saw him was on Sunday, the day before we last spoke,” he answers. “I assumed he’d come by later that night, then the next day, then the next, but he never showed.” Winry’s heart is sinking quicker with every word. Edward could very well be dead. She isn’t going to say that to Alphonse, but Edward is also adjusting to a new limb, and one that he recently had surgery on at that. He’s off balance and still recovering and he’s not used to not having Alchemy on his side. If he were attacked- “I know that he’s alive, at least.” Alphonse tells her, as though he knew what she was thinking. “Ms. Hawkeye went and checked on him, but he wouldn’t open the door. He spoke, though, so he’s definitely ok-ish.”
“Alright, well that’s good,” she sighs. “What’s the matter with him, then?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say anything other than ‘I’m fine’ and refused to answer her questions.” Alphonse sounds mildly exasperated, as well as afraid. “He’s not going to answer the door for anyone but you or me, and I can’t leave here yet. I don’t know if he’s sick, or if he’s been eating, or if he’s been taking care of his arm, or if he’s ok at all. Please, please, come and check on him. He lets you in more than you think he does.”
“Yeah, ok, Al, I’m on my way,” she promises. The relief in Alphonse is palpable, even through the phone. “I’ll catch the next train out.”
“Thank you, Winry, thank you so, so much.”
“Of course, Al, anything for you two.”
“I’m fine,” Edward says through the door in response to Winry’s knocking. “You can go, Hawkeye.” He sounds hoarse, and completely unlike himself. The attitude, for starters, is not something he would usually throw at someone he respects as much as Riza.
“Ed? It’s Winry,” Winry tells him. “Can I come in?” Edward goes quiet and all the shuffling she’d heard ceases.
“What are you doing here?” he asks after a moment. The harshness is gone, but he still sounds defensive and standoffish.
“Alphonse called me,” she replies. “He said you haven’t been stopping by and you won’t talk to anyone. Can I please come in? I just want to talk to you. Give me something good to tell your brother, at least.”
“As I said before,” Edward says, firmly. “I’m fine. Tell Alphonse that. I’m fine.”
“Well, I think you know that’s not going to satisfy him,” Winry argues. “And he’s supposed to be working on recovering right now. Worrying about you doesn’t help.” There is a painfully long moment of silence, nearly a minute, before Edward finally comes up with something to say to that.
“Don’t… don’t do that to me,” he whispers. “That isn’t fair. Don’t use Alphonse like that.” It’s very effective at making Winry feel terribly guilty.
“You’re right, Ed, that wasn’t nice of me,” she admits. “I’m worried too, you know? I want to make sure you’re ok, so please open the door.” She doesn’t think it will work, really, and if she’s right then she’s marching down to find Riza and having her force the door open. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to, because the heavy wooden door does in fact open, revealing a very disheveled Edward. He looks terrible, hair unkempt, face gaunt and gray with deep purple bruises beneath his eyes. It’s clear he has not been eating right for the last month as his clothes hang off of him in a way they never used to.
“Hello, Winry,” he greets, dryly. “You’ve seen me. I’m fine. You can go.”
“Ed, you really don’t look ok,” she says, gently. He bristles, turning red and avoiding eye contact, crossing his arms, but he doesn’t slam the door in her face or start yelling, which is good. “What’s going on here? Have you been eating?”
“Not hungry,” he answers, though the look on his face tells her he knows very well that she will not be convinced by this. “And I’ve been busy, ok? You tell Al I’m sorry I haven’t been by, but I will be soon. I hadn’t realized how long it’s been. My bad.”
“What do you mean you hadn’t noticed?” she asks, backing him into his apartment so she can close the door behind them. “Have you not slept?” The way he does not answer tells her all she needs to know. “Edward, why are you not sleeping or eating? Or from the looks of it, doing anything to take care of yourself?”
“Winry, I have been busy,” he repeats, sternly. “I’ve had stuff going on and I lost track of time, it isn’t a big deal.” Winry finally looks around the room and finds a mess of scattered papers and open textbooks, all very clearly pertaining to Alchemy. Winry knows that Ed had lost his ability to perform Alchemy, but she had been told it was his choice and he had accepted it. This is not acceptance. This looks more like bargaining than anything.
“I don’t know, Ed, this really doesn’t look good,” she argues. “Why are you researching Alchemy?”
“Does it matter?”
“A little bit, yes, it does.” He gives her a very unimpressed stare, but she’s always been better at it than he has and he caves quickly, a testament to how tired he must be.
“I’m trying to get it back,” he finally admits. “I just don’t- I don’t know what to do anymore. We spent all this time on this mission and now it’s over and I don’t know what to do.” That makes a lot of sense, actually. Alchemy has been Edward’s whole life. First it was getting his mother back, then his limbs and his brother’s body, and now what? It’s all over and he’s lost his purpose and his talent and he’s directionless.
“Oh, Ed.” Her pity is not met with fondness. He turns away from her, very clearly trying not to cry. “Why don’t we start with some sleep and a meal?” The issue here is systemic, built into his very bones, not something she or anyone else can fix overnight. She can, however, get the ball rolling.”We’ll just sit and eat, and maybe we can read something. You can pick what.”
She thinks he will refuse, continuing his petulant refusal for assistance, but he caves immediately, shoulders physically sinking as he accepts her offer.
“Fine,” he concedes. “Fine.”
It’s a start. And with Edward, that’s a lot.
She wraps him in a hug, and he lets her, and she can feel something shift in them both. She’s not going to leave him like this again, that she swears to them both.