#*edwin

Her free hand was in her pocket and reaching for her spare wrench an instant later because it really was him. “You!” she yelled, pulling the wrench out and aiming for his head.

The man yelped when the wrench made contact with his forehead and he was knocked off the porch onto the grass in front of the house.

“Ah, what the hell, Winry?!” the man yelled back, rolling on the ground and clapping a hand to his forehead.

Winry stepped out onto the porch with her arms crossed. “I’d like to ask the same of you, Edward Elric! What are you doing here?”

“You couldn’t ask that without throwing a fucking wrench at my head?” Edward Elric retorted loudly, getting up and glaring at her with the eye that wasn’t covered by his hand. She noticed a little red between his fingers, signaling that she’d drawn blood. Good.

Winry didn’t answer his question. She tried to calm her heaving breaths and racing pulse instead. It really was him. She stared at him with equal parts disbelief, anger, and annoyance. And a tiny bit of relief, but she wasn’t about to admit that to herself just yet.

Edward met her stare evenly, his visible golden eye bright like shining amber. “This is the welcome I get?” he asked tersely after a tense silence, his voice clipped.

Winry dropped her hands to her hips. “I’m sorry, were you expecting me to throw myself at you when you disappear for two years and show up at our door without so much as a call or a postcard?”

He growled lowly and wiped at his forehead before turning to pick up a suitcase that was dropped near the path. “Is Granny here?”

“Yeah, she’s asleep,” she replied curtly. “Were you planning on sneaking in without us noticing?”

“No, not really,” he mumbled, dusting himself off.

Winry watched him shift uneasily as he came up to the porch again. He looked worn. His brown overcoat still had a little bit of dirt on it from his fall, the white collared shirt he wore under an unbuttoned black vest looked rumpled, and the bags under his eyes made his trademark scowl look worse. He also looked older, but she supposed that was what was supposed to happen when someone is gone for two years.

“Winry? What’s going on?”

Winry looked behind her to see Al coming through the entryway, rubbing his eyes. He was in his pajamas, a white t-shirt and loose gray pants, and his hair was sticking up erratically from sleep. She’d completely forgotten about staying quiet to not wake him or Granny.

“Sorry, Al, it’s just that—“

Al was looking at her with concern, until the expression in his green-gold eyes shifted once he looked past her to see Edward standing at the bottom of the porch steps behind her. “Ed?” 

The disbelief in his voice snapped her attention back to Edward and she noticed how his scowl melted away into a surprised, happy smile for Alphonse. He probably hadn’t been expecting him. “Yep,” Edward said, nodding.

Al gave a startled laugh, darted out onto the porch and threw his arms around Edward, nearly knocking him on the ground again. “Brother! It’s really you!”

Winry watched as the two brothers hugged each other tightly, trying to quell the sudden rush of emotion at seeing them reunite. She knew that if anyone would be happy to see Edward regardless of the circumstances, it would be Al.

“Why is your forehead bleeding?” Al asked once they pulled away.

Edward threw a sharp glance in her direction. “Winry said hello with her wrench.”

“I didn’t say hello,” Winry snapped, her irritation flaring again.

Al stepped back to look between her and Edward, and suddenly he looked uneasy. “Let’s go inside so we can talk,” he suggested, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder.

Edward looked at his brother, his scowl returning, before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

They walked up the porch steps and Winry stepped to the side to let them pass. Al gave her a sympathetic look as he passed her, and she tried to smile for him, but couldn’t. Den, who’d been skittering around excitedly the whole time, quickly followed after them, leaving Winry alone on the porch.

She sighed and walked down the steps to pick up her fallen wrench from the grass. There was blood on one of the edges and she rubbed her thumb over it to clean it off, all the while trying to get a hold of her racing heart, and trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter that he didn’t look anywhere near as happy to see her as he was to see Alphonse. 

Winry rubbed her tired eyes and looked out towards the countryside, the early rising sun splashing light across the rolling green hills, and took in a deep breath of fresh morning air to settle herself before looking back at the house. The yellow paint was fading in a few places and needed a touch up. The last time anyone had done any work on the house was…two years ago.

She shook her head, dispelling the memory from her mind, and walked into the house, tucking her wrench back into her boiler suit. Al and Edward’s voices were drifting from the kitchen when she walked in. Winry paused for a moment, but kept going towards the stairs. She had been up all night and she was tired.

Her grandmother was coming out of her room when Winry reached the landing to the second floor.

“Winry, I heard some racket just now,” the tiny old woman said as she tied on her work apron.

Winry yawned. “Yeah, sorry if we woke you, Granny. Edward’s here.”

“Edward?!” Granny exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah,” she replied, looking down the sunlit hall to her bedroom. “He’s downstairs with Al.”

A smile crossed on Granny’s face before fading as she continued looking at Winry. “Are you alright?”

Winry nodded and yawned again. “I’m fine, Granny. I was up all night working. I’m going to bed.”

Granny watched her for a moment, and the intensity of her eyes behind her glasses nearly made Winry want to squirm. “Alright. Get some rest.”

She nodded, offering a smile, and turned away to walk down the hall to her bedroom. Once she was safely inside, the walls closing her away from the rest of the house, Winry slumped against the door, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and choking back the wave of emotion she’d been holding back since she saw Edward on the porch. 

Two years, she thought quietly. Two years, three months, four days. And here I thought I stopped counting a long time ago.

Downstairs, she heard the faint muffled sound of voices, inevitably tinged with happiness at his return. Winry pressed her lips together, feeling anger twisting in her chest, spreading over her face and arms in a hot tingle on her skin. It wasn’t fair that she was the only one even a little angry at seeing him again.

She straightened away from the door and kicked off her sandals, the shoes landing with a pointed crack against one of her bedposts. A part of her wanted to march back down the stairs and give them all a piece of her mind, especially him, but it was probably for the best that she stay holed up here. Winry balled her hands up into tight fists at her sides and stared hard at the floor. Yes, it was best if she didn’t let her temper get the best of her this time. Her wrench had done enough damage for now.

Winry threw off her work clothes and shoved a soft old t-shirt over her head and stuck her feet through her baggy sleep shorts before throwing herself on her bed. The sun was starting to fill her room with light, but she didn’t mind and she was too tired to pull the curtains shut. Staying up all night had made her tired than she realized, and the daylight wouldn’t do anything to keep her awake.

She threw the covers over her head and tried to drown out the sound of Den barking happily and the muffled sounds of laughter downstairs, going over all the automail parts needed to assemble a hand over and over until she was floating somewhere between the lulling escape of sleep and heavy, exhausted consciousness.

It was as Winry was on the tipping edge of unconsciousness that she vaguely heard a set of footsteps pause at her door, one foot lighter than the other, followed by the person heaving a deep breath. But Winry was too close to sleep to notice much more, nor did she hear the quiet whisper of her name as sleep pulled her under.

Winry was vaguely aware that she was dreaming. A memory like this, with its blurry edges and bright colors, could only be a dream. She was sitting at her worktable, much like any other day, and she was working on a set of blueprints for an automail arm with a carbon-fiber base she had designed for a final piece as part of her apprenticeship, to show her instructor her skills. She remembered that design very well—her instructor had warned her that an arm like that was too ambitious for a final piece of work, especially when she was already done with her apprenticeship, and Winry had forced herself to set it aside to work on something for a customer. Now that it was summer and she was back home, she had time to work on it all she wanted.

She was working feverishly on the arm design, weighing the different metals she’d need aside from the carbon fiber to make the outfitting durable, when a knock at the door raised her attention.

Winry turned her head, feeling light in her dream-state, and saw that it was Edward standing at the door with a tiny smile, wearing nothing but a light blue cotton sleeveless t-shirt and plain white boxers, his blonde hair hanging loose like a golden curtain around his face and shoulders.

“Are you gonna work all through the night, Winry?” he asked, stepping in. Winry looked around, startled to find that her workshop was dark save for the lamp she had on at her worktable. She dropped the pencil in her hand and stretched her arms over her head, letting out a small groan. “I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late. What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. Everyone else is asleep.”

Winry turned to look at him, standing barely within reach from the light of her lamp. His metal leg and arm glinted brightly, catching her attention before looking up at his face. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Edward shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check on you.”

She got up and watched him with raised eyebrows. “Well, thanks, Ed.”

He nodded and started to turn out of the room. Winry was quick and reached out to grab his hand to stop him. His fingers were cold in hers.

“What’s the matter? Are you alright?” she asked, trying to look at his face, but they were in the dark part of the room, and his face swam in the darkness.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice echoing through her head. “You should go to bed.”

“Talk to me, Ed,” she insisted, holding his hand tighter. His fingers slipped out of her grip and he turned his back to her. “Ed!”

Edward disappeared into the black outside her door, leaving Winry floating in the dim light from her work lamp, reaching out to him futilely. The room spun and Winry clenched her eyes shut tightly to steady herself and shut out the cold timbre of his voice pushing her away.

When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in her workshop, and her usual uniform of her boiler suit and sturdy black sports bra were replaced by the soft t-shirt and shorts she’d gone to sleep with. It was dark, still, but she wasn’t in her room—rather, she was in the room three doors down from hers, standing at the edge of a double bed with dark blue covers. The large open window at her back let in enough moonlight to give shape to the person under the dark blue covers, the glimmer of metal flashing for a moment as it caught the edge of the light as Edward sat up.

“Can’t sleep?” he mumbled thickly, without surprise, and Winry found herself nodding, feeling ancient hope swell in her heart.

He scooted over and made room for her, holding up the end of the covers to let her in. Winry slipped graciously into the warmth, wriggling until she was pressed up against him and his flesh arm was safely secured around her waist.

“You don’t have to come in the middle of the night,” he whispered against her neck, his breath damp and lips tickling. “You can stay with me, Winry.”

Winry snuggled closer and grinned, feeling tired at least. “Thanks, Ed,” she whispered back, reaching for his hand to twine her fingers with his.

His hand was gone when she felt for it, and the warmth of his body at her back disappeared. Winry sat up in bed and looked for him, but all she found was a white paper resting on top of the empty pillow beside her. Picking up the paper, Winry flipped it over and felt her eyes prickle.

It was blank, and then it disappeared out of her hands, leaving her empty and alone.

Winry sat up in bed, gasping. She looked around, finding herself back in her room with bright sunlight illuminating every corner and stinging her eyes.

Stupid dreams, she thought to herself, balling up her hands and roughly rubbing her eyes.

Her hands came back wet, surprising her. Winry touched her face, feeling her damp cheeks and stray trickle of tears pouring out of her eyes.

She sighed and wiped away at her face. “Figures,” she whispered.

A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand read that it was nearly one in the afternoon. Winry yawned and stretched, still feeling the pull of sleep but knowing it was best if she got up if she wanted to keep a regular sleep schedule. Granny would have come up and woken her up soon, anyway.

She swept her legs over the side of her bed and sat there for a moment, clutching the edge of the mattress tightly with her fingers, the fitted sheet soft as it scrunched up in her hands. The floor was cold under her toes but the sun streaming in from her window warmed her shins and the tops of her arms, followed by a soft, fresh breeze sweeping in from the tiny crack of the window she’d left open. Winry closed her eyes and let herself feel these sensations to keep her thoughts at bay.

After a few moments, she opened her eyes and got up before moving to her dresser to pick out some clothes to wear for the day. She’d have to shower first, but she wasn’t sure if it was safe to leave the room.

Then Winry shook her head, her hair falling in her face. Stupid! I’m not afraid to go out. I’m not!

She pushed her hair out of her face and grabbed her towel and bathrobe off the back of the chair next to her bed and threw them over her shoulder before marching out her door into the hall.

The bathroom door was to her right, at the end of the hall. Between her room and the bathroom were three doors—the one to her immediate right was her workshop, across from it was Alphonse’s room, and the last door, right across from the bathroom door…well, she supposed that would be Edward’s room again. Winry took a cursory glance over the hall and the stairs, confirmed that she was alone for the time being in this area of the house, and moved for the bathroom.

She came to halt when the bathroom door opened, steam wafting out as the door swung open, and Edward stepped out, hair wet and dripping over his shoulders and back, rubbing a towel over his automail right arm.

Damn it. Can’t he leave me alone for two seconds? Why couldn’t he have stayed in his room or something?

“Winry?”

She snapped her eyes away from his automail arm up to his face and was nearly taken aback by the intense scrutiny in his eyes. Like he was sizing her up, or trying to find something wrong with her.

“What?” she asked, her voice coming more confused than snappy, making her sound concerned, and not what she wanted to sound like.

Edward continued watching her with his mouth slightly open as if he might say something. Winry held his eyes, waiting and challenging him. In the end, his usual scowl returned and he shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered, walking past her to his bedroom.

“Weirdo,” she mumbled under her breath, watching him disappear behind the door. Whatever. She kept going into the bathroom, swiping away the stray, damp tendrils of steam left from Edward’s shower, and dumped her towel and bathrobe on the hook behind the door.

As she made her way to the shower, she tried to push away the image of his eyes almost burning into hers, and how they still told her things his mouth wouldn’t. Only this time, she didn’t know what it was he was saying.

Once she was showered and dressed—and thankfully didn’t meet Edward again on her way back to her room—she went downstairs, hearing Granny and Al moving around in the kitchen.

“—and while you’re at it, buy another sack of potatoes,” Granny was saying as Winry rounded her way through the entryway.

Granny was walking around the walk-in pantry and Alphonse was sitting at the table, scribbling quickly on a notepad in front of him. He raised his head at the sound of her walking in and gave her a tiny smile in greeting.

“Hey, Winry! Did you sleep alright?”

Winry shrugged. “Yeah, kind of. What are you doing?”

“Need to send Al into town,” Granny answered for him, walking out of the pantry with a wry grin on her face. “Ed’s gonna eat us out of all the food in the house by tonight if we don’t stock up.”

Winry fought against her face’s immediate souring at the mention of his name. “Oh.”

“You wanna come with?” Al asked, picking up the notepad and waving it around. “You haven’t left the house in a while.”

Granny grunted. “Yes, it’s best if you go too, Winry. You want something to eat before you go out?”

Winry shook her head. “I’ll get something in town.” She looked over at Al. “Are we going right now?”

The way the question came out almost sounded like a plea, but neither Al nor Granny had any reaction to it. Al nodded, still smiling, and got to his feet. Granny walked around the table, behind Alphonse, and grabbed a stool to get to one of the cupboards.

“Don’t be too long,” Granny said as she fished some money out from the box she kept safe in the cupboard. “Ed’s sleeping right now, but he’ll be up soon and looking for you.”

Winry was looking over her shoulder behind her before she could stop herself, in the direction of the stairs. She looked away quickly and crossed her arms. Granny handed Alphonse the money and turned her eyes at Winry, jerking her pipe in her direction.

“Don’t be too long, hear?”

Great, now Granny was watching her like there was something wrong with her too? Winry puffed out a breath of air and nodded.

“And you should probably put a sweater with a hood on. You’ll catch cold going out with your hair wet like that.”

Winry sighed and nodded again. It was better to just do what Granny asked most of the time. “Okay, Granny. I’ll meet you out front, Al.”

The day was nice and cool as Winry and Al walked down the path that led to town, the wind gently carrying the smell of grass as it passed over them. Winry walked beside Al with her hands stuffed in her sweatshirt’s pockets, feeling her mood improve the farther they walked from the yellow house behind them.

“When was the last time you went out, Winry?” Al asked as they dodged a few puddles that were still in the process of drying from a rainstorm a few days earlier.

Winry withdrew one of her hands from her sweater and counted off the days. “I think it’s been…five? Six? I haven’t been keeping track. Granny hasn’t really held back on letting me do most of the orders.”

Winry had been slowly taking over most of the work in her grandmother’s automail shop after Winry had finished her year-long apprenticeship in Rush Valley three years ago and finished her certification in East City the year before. Winry didn’t mind at all—she loved automail and tinkering with things so much that it hardly felt like she was working most of the time.

“I can tell,” Al said, chuckling. “I couldn’t stay holed up in my room for that long, I think.”

Winry glanced at him and smiled. “You’re not thinking of taking off so soon, are you? You said you’d stay the summer with us.”

Alphonse chuckled again. “Nah, I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry. Well, I do need to go to East City sometime soon to check in with Dr. Marcoh, but it should only be a few days.”

“You’re almost done with your dissertation?” Winry asked.

Alphonse was working on getting a doctorate in biological engineering, an impressive feat for an eighteen year old. He’d graduated all his schooling at the age of fourteen, and had finished a bachelor’s degree in three years before being accepted into the doctorate program at East City University a year ago. It was hard to tell that Al was a kid genius when someone first met him—he had such a friendly disposition and knack for social skills that whenever he disclosed his academic achievements, people usually did a double take. He didn’t hold any pride for his accomplishments, either, making him instantly likeable by everyone who met him. Winry had known him since she could remember, and he’d always been one of her closest friends. The thought of him being done with his research made her incredibly happy for him.

“I’m getting there,” he replied. “I’m struggling with a formula right now, but seeing Dr. Marcoh should help. I kind of want to put it off as long as I can, though. Once I crack through that, it’ll be work nonstop until I finish.” Al looked up at the sky and laughed. “I want to be able to have a little fun this summer, if I can. And now that Ed’s home—“

He stopped himself and looked over at Winry. Winry had quickly turned her eyes ahead of them, where the path forked out to various directions towards different parts of Resembool, carefully keeping her face blank. He made an apologetic noise and started talking again. “I’m sorry, Winry, I didn’t mean to—“

“Did he say anything to you?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. She wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

Al sighed. “No. He clamped down the minute I brought it up.”

She turned her head to look at him, and noted the frustration in his expression. Winry felt a little more at ease, knowing he felt at least a little like she did. “Of course he did.”

“He’s been to a lot of places, though,” Al continued, seemingly more to himself than to her. “His suitcase has a lot of tags on it. I think he’s been traveling this whole time.”

Traveling…for two years straight? “Do you have any idea why?” Al frowned and shook his head. “Not even close. He didn’t even leave a note, remember?”

Winry looked away. She didn’t need to remember. The memory had never quite faded from her mind.

“Anyway, I’m not sure if he’s staying,” he said, and a sad edge creeped into his voice, turning his tone from light and cheery to quiet and low. “He said he couldn’t stay in one place too long.”

“So then why did he come back?” she snapped. Winry stopped walking for a second and shut her eyes tightly, blinking rapidly, to rein in her anger.

Al stopped with her and held his hands up, shrugging. “I don’t know. But don’t worry—he’s not going anywhere until he gives us some answers.”

Winry looked behind them, where the yellow house with green trim sat at the top of the hill, looking like a small yellow speck from where they were standing. “If he doesn’t leave in the middle of the night like last time.”

“I think he has a good reason to come back this time, Winry,” Alphonse said, sounding hesitant. “I think he’ll talk to you, if you talk to him.”

She didn’t like the way he said it, not one bit. When she looked back at him, she caught a mischievous glint in his eyes that he was trying to mask with a frown. Winry hmphed and resumed their walk. “If he won’t talk to you, his brother, what makes you think I can get anything out of him? He’s always been terrible at talking to me.”

Al giggled. “I think it’s because you scare him.”

Winry stared at him with wide eyes. “What?! Me? Scare him?” She sputtered, raising her shoulders indignantly. “You’re—you’re such a liar, Al!”

Al laughed, ducking away from her when she tried to smack him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Winry huffed and crossed her arms. Al’s laughter died out as he looked at her.

“He screwed up pretty big this time, didn’t he?” It came out more like a statement than a question.

Winry looked down at her feet and almost didn’t answer him. “Yeah. He did.”

There wasn’t a point in lying to Alphonse. If anyone could understand how she felt, it was him. She looked up at him again, and tried to discern his expression, which had lost all of its cheer.

“What about you, Al?”

Al glanced at her, his bangs slightly hiding his right eye, his lips pressed tightly together as he considered her question. “I’m glad you hit him with your wrench. Or else I would have punched him.”

Winry laughed. “You would have punched him?”

“Don’t act so surprised! It’s not like I haven’t punched him before!”

She kept laughing, trying to picture Al angry enough to punch someone. It was true, as kids Al and Edward had been sparring partners, but none of those blows had ever been serious. “I’m sorry, it’s just funny. If you’re unhappy with him, he’s going to have a rough time.” Winry sighed and shoved her hands into her sweater pockets. “Come on, we should hurry into town. We can stop at Field’s Deli for lunch, what do you say?”

“Yeah, that sounds good!”

Since the time of the Sheep Shearing Festival was nearing in Resembool, the small town was bustling more than usual as Winry and Al picked their way to the different shops and stands to stock up their groceries. Alphonse made them stop at the newspaper stand and bought three different newspapers, which took Winry by surprise.

“What do you need three newspapers for?” she asked, eyeing the thick roll of paper he’d stuffed into his coat pocket.

“To stay updated,” Al replied with a small shrug. “East City Reporter for local news, Central Times for national stuff, and South City Journal to keep better tabs on the situation with Aerugo right now.”

“What do you want to know about Aerugo for?” she asked, curious. Amestris had problems with the Aerugian government, but that was nothing new. Alphonse shrugged again. “I heard it it’s getting pretty bad. Aerugo is close to declaring war on us.”

“War?” The word twisted in her gut. 

“I know,” Al said, frowning. “I have a friend in the military stationed down there. I hope he’s alright.”

Winry gave him a sympathetic smile, before looking around at the busy town square as they crossed from the newsstand towards their last stop at their favorite deli. Well, busy for Resembool. The bustle of a small town was nothing compared to the nearly frantic action she’d seen in Rush Valley and East City. “There’s an awful lot of blue around lately.”

A handful of soldiers were hanging out by the coffee cart parked at the end of the town square, looking very out of place with their squared shoulders and heavy wool uniforms. Soldiers were being recruited left and right, and Resembool was no exception—not to the extent of the more populated areas and big cities, but even Resembool had a few blue coats among their population lately.

“Yeah,” Al agreed, glancing at the soldiers morosely. “We should hurry and eat lunch before Granny thinks we’re gone too long.”

Winry let her eyes linger on the soldiers before turning to Alphonse with a frown. “We should take our time.”

Al gave her a fleeting grin. “Don’t worry, Ed will probably be asleep forever.”

Winry crossed her arms. “I’m not avoiding him.”

“I didn’t say you were!” Al held his hands up in defense, but his grin grew wider.

“Shut up!” Winry exclaimed, stomping forward toward the deli where they were going to have lunch. “Let’s go!”