A/N: Sort of angsty drabble type thing, written on yet another whim. I should be working on chapter 7 of Second Chances! Oh well here you go. I guess it can accompany Love by Definition, though this one takes place much later. Setting is post anime pre-movie.

POV is Winry in 2nd person. I like 2nd person...(goes to work on other story)

Disclaimer: I am not Hiromu Arawaka nor am I BONES. So no I don't own this.

Never There

It's always the same. The same look on his face as he just stands there looking at you; knowing that no matter how much you want to, you can't be mad at him. He knows you know it too.

You put your hand on your hips as you try to hold back a sigh, a smile, a stream of tears, all at once.

Mostly you just want to clobber him.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," you tell him with a small smirk. You try to hold together your cracking composure, but your voice gives you away.

"I know, I know. I have a lot of explaining to do." he says as he walks closer to you, and seven feet away changes to only three.

He's letting his guard down, you think.

"You do," you answer.

The silence that follows hurts your ears; but it's only for a minute.

He looks at you with those eyes; two half suns. You can tell this is as hard for him as it is for you.

"You know I didn't want to leave, not really. But..."

He looks down, and is quiet for so long you wonder if he's looking for an answer in the soil under his feet.

"It wasn't the way I planned it, but I had to do it," he continues. "Even if I didn't think it'd work. You now I'd do anything for my brother, Winry.

"Al does know," you inform him. "He doesn't even remember."

"It's best he doesn't. I—"

You wrapped your arms around him cutting him off, "Welcome home."

"I'm...thank you, Winry."

Then he smiles and tells you what you want to hear the most, in a whisper so low it seems like a voice in the wind. "I won't leave you again."

Suddenly you don't feel him, and the sound of thunder pounds in your ears and the cold sheets cling to your skin as you awake to nothing but darkness. No warmth, not here.

You wonder why your bed feels so big; as if it's not meant for only you. You didn't feel so alone a second ago...

You tiptoe across the room trying to remember how it felt but the memory of the dream is already dissolving into the darkness.

Outside the window, the sky is falling and the thunder is hitting the ground as in anger at the world. You remember another night like this; almost seven years ago. If not more.

And you hear the scream again, and cast your eyes over the stretching hills expecting to see a suit of armor carrying a child.

And you hit the window harder than the thunder. You don't want to remember, but your tears are already falling like rain.

You hear the water running down your cheeks, hitting the window and the lightning slowly erases the dark. Out of the corner of your eye you can see that the door is open a crack.

Curiously standing from your wretched position, you wipe your tears; wondering if the sound of footsteps is due to your nostalgic mind.

But you open the door anyway. Creep down the hall. Nothing but silence and rain. You whirl around at the cold fingers of nothing, expecting to catch of glimpse of something. Anything. Because you don't want to go back to that empty bed.

A low whine breaks your thoughts as the furry legs of the dog come in contact with yours, and warm you for a second. Just a second.

"So it was you making all this noise," you tell her, wondering if her keen nose can sense your disappointment. "Go back downstairs, you don't want to wake Grandma or Al, do you?"

She whines again, but seems to understand as she walks away down the stairs.

Good dog.

And you wonder what it was you expected to see. And you scold yourself for even hoping. It's always the same; the footsteps. Al, Granny, Den, but never him.

You know it. You've grown enough to accept it, but sometimes you forget.

With no choice you make your way back. To room where he is awaiting you when you close your eyes.

It's always the same look on his face. That warmth in his eyes. The sun radiating in his touch. He shines brighter than the sky in the backdrop. And you give in every time, wrapping your eyes around him. Breathing him in until morning...

Even when you wake up, he's there. For a moment. Always the same. His eyes of transparent gold, see through smirk; invisible against the white wall of your room, the cold warmth of his touch.

Always the same. Never there.