Slight AU, Light EdWin. Winry is stronger.
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"Don't you understand?" Winry cried, shoving him aside. "They are going to die, and if I'm not there to help him, they'll be fucking dead. Dead!"
"Fuck, Winry! This – is – one of the last battles. You don't need to go, and they'll fucking shit you over if they find you –"
"I'm doing it for something you'll never know!"
She dashed passed a fuming Edward Elric, but when she had a heavy feeling descend upon her hand; Winry knew he was going to try to forcibly keep her from going. Why, how dare he! She had every right to do what she wanted. She turned around to protest angrily and maybe even hit him over the head with her wrench to knock some sense into that insensitive boy, but the thought suddenly departed from her mind when she realized he was bringing himself closer and closer to her.
He was so near, so approximant. He was so close, just a hair's breath away, she found that it was almost unbearable to feel his slick, wavering breath on her trembling lips. He overwhelmed the gap when he kissed her, not exactly sweetly nor fondly, but … pleadingly, as though he wanted something desperately that Winry was unwilling to give. The kiss was so chaste, so dizzying, that she felt it simply unbearable to possess. She screamed internally, refusing the urge to massacre and return the kiss to him at the same time, but it ended as abruptly as it had started. His painfully soft lips had gone. She felt her mouth tingling with a strange warmth, as though somebody had gently patted her lips with a blanket, and try as she may, all she could stutter was, "Wha- … E-Ed, you … you …" What had Edward Elric had just done?
"You're not going even if I have to kill you," Ed whispered for her, and she heard the vague sound of a hand hitting something before her consciousness left her.
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Winry woke up startled from her sleep, twitching and yet, feeling very drunk. She cradled her head in her hands, moaning from a terrible headache, feeling like somebody had ferociously impaled her brain with a thousand little sharp needles. Oh, it was the most terrible feeling in the world, and for a moment, she forgot herself, dribbling saliva on her nightdress and the bed sheet. After a while, shaking with fatigue and hunger, she received herself from her bed and observed her surroundings.
She was in her room, back in Risembool! Everything was exactly how she had left it a few months ago, all the screws put away, her pictures gone for she had taken them to her new temporary residence, and the floor sparkling clean – no, it was slightly settled with dust, but she would take care of it later … How did that ever happen? The last time she remembered, Winry was in Central, arguing with Edward about … oh, he must have made her faint. How could he do that? Didn't Alphonse have anything to say about that? Oh, poor Alphonse! Such a sweet, kind, considerately affectionate boy, always having to follow that nasty, microscopic, sexually deranged idiot.
"Granny?" Winry called, clutching the side of her bed. She had forgotten how voices echoed chillingly through the halls in the morning. Or was it the morning?
There was a pause, then an exuberant, "Winry!" followed by heavy footsteps. Winry stared, completely confound, at the strange, novel image of her grandmother. Her bun had vanished completely and Granny had new, bunted short hair, and her new rectangular glasses suggested incredible style unfitting for a woman so old. She still sported large wrinkles on her dimples and forehead, but the mint red-collared T-Shirt and dark blue denim made her look remarkably rejuvenated into a young, happy-go-lucky human lark with a personality no older than her jeans. Oh, her goodness – where did her grandmother go?
"Winry, I'm so glad you're finally awake. Did you know you've been asleep for two days?" Granny smiled, entering her room. Winry was still stupefied but adamantly objected to showing it and instead, demanded, "Granny, why am I here?"
"Oh, child, it's wonderful to see you alive and unhurt," she sighed, wrapping her arms around her granddaughter while blissfully ignoring her question. "I prayed and prayed everyday that God wouldn't take another one from me."
"Oh, Granny!" Winry flushed, grateful to see that her grandmother had hoped dearly with her heart that Winry would come out unscathed. But even that was not completely true, Winry reminisced in a hungry daze. There was a deep wound in her heart, one that nobody in this world still knew existed, and one that could never heal, because nobody could ever, ever, lick the pain until it closed the way the one she missed could. It constantly bit and gnawed at her day after day, and because of it, she found possible for her to keep moving, to save those all those other souls that other would people would miss. Oh, Granny would never know this, the same way she never knew when Ed and Al were coming back for their stupid repairs, the same way she will never know what Winry will do if she couldn't go out and help in the war. "Oh, Granny."
They hugged each other fiercely for a long time, and Winry finally realized simply how much she had missed her grandmother. The familiar scent of her skin, the reassuring strength of her voice … her grandmother was a beacon of light through all the darkness in Winry's heart, one that even Ed and Al, in all their glory, would never learn to shine through, after all they had done. How could she have never seen it? Her grandmother was a beautiful person and it was a shame to anybody who could not see it.
At last, they let go and Granny wiped a tear as she spoke, "Well, I have to say. I never imagined my miracle would come true."
"What is that, Granny?" Winry asked.
"You, coming home so soon," she replied, gazing forlornly but not unhappily out the window. Winry was slightly confused at her grandmother's tone. She presumed that her grandmother would be all joy and merry to know that her granddaughter had come back, not even the littlest despondent, and yet here she was, weeping out silent words lonely as a bottle floating in the middle of a vast sea. Sunlight filtered in, falling from the sky, spreading its brazen yellow out and reaching for the two women as they sat contemplatively on the bed.
"Ed said you fainted and he brought you straight back here," Granny said suddenly, breaking a golden quiet.
"Ed said I fainted?" Winry said, surprised. "Why, he was the one who hit me and made me faint in the first place!"
"Did he?" Granny raised an eyebrow. "Well, that sure took guts."
If Edward were present, Winry would have crushed her wrench into his smug face and pulverized it into a billion pieces so she would never have to look at it again. The peacefulness she was feeling a minute ago shattered and she exclaimed, "Granny! He – I don't believe it."
"He was trying to help you, Winry," Granny explained. "He didn't want you to go to fight."
"No, he was trying to be stupid."
"Winry, where did you get that idea?"
"Oh, I'll kill him when I see him, I will. Where the fuck did he get the idea to leave me behind?"
"Winry!"
"I was just doing my job, Granny! I was a doctor! How could he? How could he stop me from doing my job!"
"He did not want you to get hurt!"
"Ed wants people to die? Is that what he wants?"
"No, Winry – he cared about you."
"He knows I'm not a child! I'm not somebody he can just tolerate and fuck like his kind … a bitch…"
"Stop that right now!" Granny barked disapprovingly.
"Granny!" Winry cried in a passion. "Don't you get it? He's trying to keep me! He's trying to leave me behind! He doesn't want me anymore than he wants … himself. Damn, damn, damn that idiot!"
"I won't have that kind of talk in my house!" Granny shouted, and Winry flung herself and retired to her bed. They had stood up, and both were panting as though they had just run a marathon. Winry felt old, older than she had ever felt since the last battle, and in her mind she could hear the screams and triumphs of the men ringing through her head like an automatic speaker. People were so difficult!
She felt the bed sink beside her and Winry weakly opened her eyes. Granny was looking at her solemnly, and she felt the weight of the gaze fall upon her like a string of bricks. Granny looked terribly ill.
"Winry, I'm old now," she sighed. "I've lived most of my life waiting for others and now, I realize just how much of it I've truly missed."
Winry opened her eyes wider.
"It's strange, really," Granny continued. "I used to think that Risembool is all I've ever really needed. But I suppose as you near the end of your life, you start getting desperate. You think, 'Oh, have I done enough? Will anybody miss me when I'm gone'?"
"I'll always miss you, Granny," Winry whispered.
"Child, I'm too old to be thinking this way," Granny said. "I should feel satisfied with what I have and what I get. There's nothing more to expect out of life." She paused. "But ever since Den died, I've no real attachment to my age now. Somehow, I'm lonelier than I've ever been but never more alive."
The wound in Winry's heart wept a little more.
"I need to be myself, Winry. I need something else. And after I'm done, then I'll be old and die a happy woman. But now … I've been thinking of starting … over. As you can see, I've already prepared myself physically," she swept a hand across her attire, which made Winry smile softly. "I'm going to do some things I would have never imagined of doing before. The Automail business is still on, don't you worry. I can't think of leaving those poor limbless people lying around in the dirt as much as you can. But … I'll be going on a mini-vacation for about a week. I'm hoping it might help me. I've been feeling quite depressed lately, Winry, with you and Den gone. My train is leaving tomorrow."
Winry felt that wound in her again at the soft sound of Den's name. It caressed her ears, leaving the tingle of a whisper singing memorably in her head, but it tore open that gap in her love, the one that had once burned for a distant memory, not nonexistent.
"Winry, would you like to come with me?"
Winry almost did not hear her, mourning over Den, but her answer was already there. Granny must think be ridiculous to know any other response. "No, Granny. I have to go back to the war."
Winry noticed Granny's shoulders sagged. Oh, Granny must understand. She was the only one Winry had the full heart to trust anymore! "You're barely sixteen, Winry."
"I don't care. Oh, please, you must understand. Every time I go out there, I think that every single person's life I save helps ten more people. Think of all the family back home that must miss those soldiers."
"Think of the family that misses you back home."
"Granny, I … ever since Den died, for me, too, I … I've been feeling like I need to do something. There's nothing in me, Granny, nothing at all, and saving those soldiers is the only thing that fills up the space inside." Winry had let it out. Didn't she just tell herself a while ago that Granny would never know? Oh, it didn't matter now. She simply had to understand that Winry could not refuse her services any longer. She had a heart to fulfill!
Granny remained silent, and then said, "Well, I don't think you could go anyways."
"What do you mean I can't?" Winry said, slightly frustrated that her own grandmother wouldn't listen. "Of course I can go if I want."
"No, Winry," Granny said firmly, putting a hand on her shoulder and staring eye-to-eye. "Ed issued orders for the military to not be allowed to recruit you."
Winry's eyes were round as olives, and she felt her breath leave her. Did Granny just say that Ed had permanently restrained Winry from helping the war? Did Granny just – Winry wanted to rip his head off. How could he control her life like that! How could he! Did he honestly forget who helped him perform all the lowly, pathetic things that State Alchemists do, by helping him attach his automail? Did he truly not remember who wept, worried, and nearly sickened herself with depression and yet still supported his decision with his brother to find something that even she knew was taboo and could land the two in without a body nor mind? Did he think that a stupid kiss could – oh, heavens, Winry couldn't take it anymore.
"He thinks he can do that?" Winry hissed, her voice quavering. "He honestly, really thinks he can do that? And Alphonse didn't stop him?" Realization slapped her in the face as she unlocked the terrible truth of it all. Alphonse would never think himself superior to her enough to boss her around. Alphonse would never do such a thing, he wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't!
"Granny!" Winry cried, unaware of the volume of her voice, "th-then, I'm going out there myself. I … I don't need the military."
"Winry!" Granny gasped, her eyes the biggest Winry had seen in years. "You can't … it's too dangerous."
"Mom and Dad did it, didn't they?" Winry cried fiercely. A million thoughts rushed into her head. She would have no protection. She would be alone. She would see the agonizing wounds and torturous hours of grueling, ensanguined broken soldiers whose bleeding hearts dreamed of the safe, unassailable haven of home, not that brutal suicidal battle! War was a terrible thing, but Winry belonged there. Oh, I have no idea what I'm getting into! she thought bitterly.
"Winry, I … I …" Granny was lost for words.
"Oh, Granny, understand!" Winry shrieked, and was slightly surprised to find the wet slick of tears burdening her face. They tasted so salty when she licked them, not the kind, gentle sweetness she longed to feel.
"Winry, I … I don't know what to say …" Granny closed her eyes and Winry saw her body drop.
Winry swept her within her arms.
"Oh, Granny, I-I won't die, because if I do-o, I'll know that there'll … there'll b-be no one left to take … t-take care of you, and I could – could never, e-ever, die knowing that-t," Winry sobbed. "Ooooh, p-please, Granny! I-I can't g-go without knowing you'll … you knew me."
Winry's body was vibrating, but she felt no signs of movement whatsoever from her grandmother. Clumsily wiping the tears from her eyes, Winry looked down and saw that Granny had closed her eyes. Slightly perturbed that she dared to sleep while her granddaughter was gravely in distress and about to make a suicidal decision, she gently hugged her and then placed her on the bed. Winry wondered if this meant that Granny would allow her to go to the war or not, but she decided that she could not wait for her answer. She must leave now.
Winry silently stole around her room, looking for objects that would not saddle down her load but enhance her abilities, such as many clothes and tools that were not originally picked by her when she first left to war. They were second-best, but Winry remarked that they would do. She paused at an image of Edward, Alphonse, and her, laughing and playing together under a swing (Edward was on it), and a smile flickered on her face before it vanished as quickly as a burnt flame. Then, she crept downstairs while clutching her suitcase with her items, and prepared much food for the trip.
Winry was just beginning her note on the kitchen countertop when footsteps coming from upstairs nearly made her heart explode with surprise. She looked behind her and saw Granny Pinako standing there, looking like an old and withered oak tree with its branches black and smoldered and its trunk falling apart. Winry felt her vision fog and burst into tears, crying about how sorry she truly was for leaving but still how it simply was her obligation to do this hateful thing, and how she would loathe herself if she died without telling her grandmother goodbye, so would her grandmother please, please, forgive her?
Granny looked at her granddaughter and said, "I understand."
Winry kissed and hugged her grandmother countless times before she finally left the threshold and found her feet moving forward automatically without any will in them at all. But there is will, Winry reminded herself. She had to go to war. It was just her job, it wasn't just her duty, it was so completely part of her that if she had stayed behind and simply acknowledged the fact that the soldiers were dying without her, she would have hung herself. Oh, she would be there for them, the way her grandmother had been there for her, and the way Ed and Al had been there for each other.
Suddenly, Winry stopped, and she looked up at the multiple roads of clouds above her. They were blushing a lightly tinted pink, but the sun painted such a gorgeous yellow over it all that Winry felt they had nothing to be ashamed of at all. The sky was resplendent with life and color, and for a moment she wondered how Den liked it all, being part of the waxen gold of the sun, the lovely blue of the sky, the embarrassed pink of the clouds. She knew it must be a very wonderful thing to have a part.
Winry decided that she would visit Den's and Trisha's graves before she left. Maybe she would even ask Granny to join her – oh, no, she couldn't. That would break her grandmother's heart, as if it hadn't been broken so many times in an old woman's heart before. Winry still felt that wound as open and vulnerable as ever, but she was depending on those soldiers to fix it.
Yes, yes, it would all work out. She would relish in the sweet memory of Den. And then, after that, she would bless herself with thoughts of Trisha. And finally, she would save her heart from Den's absence by filling it with others, others who needed her more than anybody else in the whole world. Oh, yes, she would prove to Ed and Al that she was one who could take care of herself.
Oh! Winry thought to herself, blissfully sad. God, give me strength to continue, because if you don't, I don't know what I'll do.
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This was supposed to be a one-shot, but if I get enough reviews and inspiration, I might change the ending of this first chapter to be suitable for … oh, another one (ooh-la-la).
I'm sorry if any characters in the story are OOC – I mean, if they are, because if they're not, then I'm a pretty good writer (which is impossible, so the first one). I just finished watching and reading Gone With the Wind, one of the best movies and books ever, and the spirit kind of just stuck on to me, and I was all like – "Hey! I bet Winry could be like Scarlett!" – and oh no! It became a fanfic (gasp)!
I know! I can't believe how it kind of sucks! Grr, please give me some criticism, because if you don't, I'll go die in a corner someplace and never be heard of again. I think I made the "wound in her heart" parts too scattered and random, and my writing style kind of switches on and off (does it?). Oh, you reviewers are the best people to ever come in this world after, uh … my Daddy (haha, another impossible one), so thank you so much ;).
Oh – and in case you're wondering, the title is "Winry is a Soldier" and not "Winry is a Doctor" because the "soldier" part means strength; so she is strong.