Hospitals had never been a place of comfort for Winry Rockbell, despite her ancestral ties to medicine. The smell invaded her senses, brought dizziness and fear, clouded judgment. The sounds rushed her ears and caused her fingers to tremble - her back to stiffen. And, if it wasn't bad enough, the sight of violence, of pale faced children, of teary eyed loved ones, filled her heart with the heaviest sense of ache.

She preferred to treat her automail patients in the confines of her comfortable home. She tried to create an atmosphere of trust, calm, quiet and cool breathing...something her patients truly appreciated. This was partially inspired by her time working on Edward, but her sensibilities delegated her heart be soft and her touch be gentle...why should her work space be any different?

Foreboding marked Winry's history with hospitals. Therefore, it was only natural that her stomach felt shaky as she slipped inside the revolving doors of the Central Memorial Military Hospital - not for the first time. There had been a phone call - after weeks of anxious waiting, locked safe and hidden in the four walls of her own bedroom. Edward's voice trembled on the line as he asked her to come to Central as quick as she could.

"I have a surprise for you."

That phone call had brought her here today...

The hospital was overrun, overwhelmed. There had been countless injured during the past 72 hours of chaos. She could smell blood all around her, and it nearly made her sick. Despite all this confusion, her eyes were deliberate, determined and she sought out the information desk with a stern look and set eyes.

She had to see him. She had to see them.

Things began to slow - as if the clock of the world was being wound backward. Even the physical air around here felt thick with anticipation. She felt as if she waded through molasses...pushing through the gooey texture of the hallways, swimming against the currents of people who blocked her access.

It felt like an eternity to be shown through the endless maze of wards, wings, corridors of sick people. She caught the sight of a man she recognized, though she could not remember his name. He guarded the door to a private room. His eyes were misty and his hair still damp with sweat - he seemed highly agitated. Winry tried to rack her brains to remember his name ...

Then, the room was upon her. She noted the nick in the door frame and the small signs of mold around the ceiling tiles (the hospital clearly lacked in funding and proper maintenance, being government run). The room she had been told to visit, the room where they were currently residing, room 441.

She was shown the way in.

Winry's first reaction was to squint her eyes against the outpouring of sunlight in the room. She was expecting drawn curtains and the kiss of florescence and the sterile closeness one always feels in hospitals. Yet, the overheads were turned off - and the curtains wide open to the morning sunlight. The bed, which she expected to contain the reunited patient, was empty. Instead, he was sitting in a chair, looking out through the window. Of course he was looking out - seeing the world with his long, absent eyes - underused and just now being reacquainted with earth, water, light, love, existence.

He looked at her, emaciated though he was, glowing brighter than she could have imagined.

She couldn't quite think straight - drinking in his presence was enough. For long years and nights, the tin can had been her only visual clue that Alphonse was still alive - still human even in his empty shell...now, he was again flesh, bone, blood, and reaching out for her.

He was too weak to stand. Winry's heart almost broke when his hands could not reach out any farther, and his eyes pleaded for her to cross the expanse of the room -

But before she could even move, she had to find Edward - her heart wouldn't beat until she had confirmed that he was also safe.

The hesitation was only a moment - he was there. Gloomy, almost, the darkest point in the room - slouching in the corner - automail leg still intact - Edward was watching her with rapt attention. Winry saw the new flesh arm that jutted from his badly scared shoulder. He still had nuts and bolts from his automail dock sticking out of his skin. It seemed to Winry that one was becoming infected. She felt wonder at the sight and badly wanted to fix the sore sight and make sure he was not in pain. His eyes were bright. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment, just as strongly as she had been.

She turned back to Alphonse. Her body shook with a rush of happiness, joy, and the tears began to flow - as Edward had predicted they would. Within seconds, Winry was at Alphonse's chair kissing his hands and pulling him to her in a hug, years in the making. Alphonse, melting into her, began to sob - his own joy too deep, rich, and plentiful to be contained silently.

The embrace lasted several moments. When Winry pulled away, she began to laugh.

"Long time, no see." she spluttered amidst her own tears. He nodded - his lips still horribly chapped from long underuse. Winry then became aware of the IV, still deep within his arm, bringing him new strength and nutrients. It nearly ripped her in two to see how thin, skeletal he was. How strange Alchemy was. She knew would ensure that from now on he would only fatten with home cooking, relearn the mechanics of walking with therapy and help, and return to his old - beautiful self.

His voice had matured - as if puberty had come even from beyond the gate - and when he spoke, it was a voice Winry barely recognized...it was thick, sorrowful and full of joy.

"I am home." he said.

"Yes. I knew you would come home."

For a moment his eyes flattened with a sense of sadness. He raised boney fingers to Winry's shoulder, giving her a slight squeeze of pressure. "But." He croaked..."Brother, brother could not get his leg back. He also sacrificed his power to do Alchemy. Brother is different now"

"I told you, I don't care, Al." the interruption thick in the air, Edward, speaking for the first time - his own eyes glossy with restrained tears. "I don't need any of that, now quit bringing it up!"

Winry chanced another look at Edward, tears still slipping sporadically from her wide eyes. He had moved closer, slowly inching out of the corner and to Alphonse's other side.

Winry noticed with a great shock that he had sprouted, perhaps 5 inches taller since she last saw him in Rizembool. He must have had a nearly nuclear growth spurt. She vaguely remembered his theory that he had been eating and sleeping for both his own and Al's body while he was beyond the gate. Perhaps now that Alphonse was restored, his body had finally normalized?

Clearly, his automail no longer fit him. His left leg no longer fit his stature and he was slightly off balance. Winry noticed that he did not put any weight on the metal foot, as if it hurt to put pressure on it. He was also dressed in a hospital gown and had several bandages wrapped around his waist, head, and arms. Winry noted that the room had two beds. As always, the sight of Edward injured made her heart full with compassion and love – and a desire to protect him with all her might.

She rose from the floor, put a reassuring hand on Alphonse's shaggy head, and met Edward's gaze head on - determined to show him not only the happiness, but the pride she felt in this moment.

He raised his two flesh hands, scooping her up and pulling her body against his. He smelt like Edward as she always remembered him. Winry couldn't contain a small sigh of utter acquiesce - the softness of her skin caressed by the new-found openness of his embrace.

"We are both home." he whispered against her hair.

Sharing the moment of bliss, they reached out to both put hands on Alphonse - all three gulping down the sight of the other - a harmony beyond any living memory.

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