A/N: I wrote this several weeks ago and finished the first chapter but lost interest in writing after losing my only copy of the second chapter (I didn't feel like rewriting it). The first chapter has been rotting away in my hard drive ever since and I've finally decided that I'll just post it to FFnet and judge from reader feedback whether it's worth continuing. Your reviews are really important to me, readers, so weigh in!Even if you hate it—in fact, especially if you hate it! I won't continue unless I feel like there's somebody out there who wants to read it.

A/N 2: Also, remember I wrote this awhile ago and I haven't really looked at it since. If you find typos, point them out to me in a review or PM so I can fix them right away.

For Winry, life is a series of endless almosts. Edward is a shell of his former self, the Resembool house is always silent. Where is Alphonse? Who is Kate? And what happened half a decade ago?

Chapter 1: In which Winry picks a fight.

Winry was worried about her roommate and former friend. He wasn't himself; hadn't been for a long time. It was wrong.

It wasn't like he was suicidal or anything. He was depressed, sure, but he had good reason.

…And "time heals all wounds."

He wasn't pale, or sickly looking. He wasn't skipping meals. He communicated with people—sort of.

It wasn't as if he was suicidal. Winry's fears were unfounded.

He went outside often. Enjoying nature and soaking up vitamin D and sometimes getting sunburn if he stayed out too long.

He would leave unannounced—of course, the only person he might want to tell was too caught up to care anyway—and he'd stay away from the house for hours, sometimes all day or night. He never said where he went or if he saw anyone while he was there, and Winry had all but given up trying for answers.

Winry hated eating her meals alone every evening, but more than eating alone she hated eating with a silent companion. In the days before everything went wrong, Winry had always sat down to hot meals and family. Oftentimes she'd been lucky to get a word in edgewise. Nowadays she only wished that was the case. Edward avoided the dinner table like the plague, preferring to eat his food three hours cold over the sink.

Talking had never been something Edward did well, but in front of Winry, he had stopped even trying. She didn't seem to have gotten the memo: she still spoke to him often as if everything was normal, though the content of her speech was often carefully censored to avoid getting on his bad side. She didn't know what she was doing and she was too defeated to try very hard, but Edward gave her credit for her effort. Nobody tried harder than the stubborn Winry Rockbell to bring Edward out of his fog of an existence.

Fog was an accurate description of the way Edward lived. Nothing mattered to him any more. He saw and felt nothing. He avoided human contact and he avoided his memories.

Edward used to love reading. Now he wouldn't even read the newspaper.

Winry let her subscription to the Resembool Crier run out.

Edward hated it when anyone touched him. Whenever Winry had to maintain his automail, she wasn't permitted to so much as brush his skin or he would have a panic attack, push her away, and start cussing her out. He could barely even stand to watch her touching his automail: he had to look away the whole time and wouldn't speak to her unless she put everything down and backed away at least as far as the end of the worktable.

The only person who ever got near him was his 'girlfriend'—Winry thought this term inappropriate, as it implied some kind of an emotional attachment. The only thing special about Kate was the interesting exception she made to every rule Edward had set forth.

He had never told Winry that he had a girl in the first place. He'd come home one day with her on his arm and brought her upstairs without so much as an introduction. Rude, but not altogether surprising for Winry, considering the number of things Ed kept from her on a regular basis. Some heads up might have been appreciated, however.

The unconventional introduction occurred in the wee hours of the morning, when the puppy unexpectedly started barking and Winry dragged herself out of bed to investigate.

Standing inside the doorway, clothes disheveled, hair falling from a hasty bun, with her purse slung over her shoulder and her shoes on the wrong feet, Kate looked the part of late-night visitor. Edward, leaning against the frame in front of her, hadn't bothered shoving himself into clothes.

The girl looked from the barking puppy to Winry with her wrinkled pajamas, sagging eyelids, and unbrushed hair, then sighed loudly. "Can't a girl sneak out of her boyfriend's house without raising the Dog Alarm?"

Edward stared at Winry, his look of annoyance scarring her where a strong unfounded sense of betrayal burned. "Can't you shut that stupid bitch up?"

Winry was mute.

"Are you deaf?"

Revived by temper, Winry returned to her senses. "Don't talk to me like that, Ed."

"Or what? You'll hit me? I'll hit back."

Winry scowled at him and bent down for the dog's scruff. "Shh, Luda. It's just Ed and his… friend."

Luda whined pitifully and then quieted.

"Hate that dog," Edward muttered loud enough for Winry to hear. He then turned to the girl and leaned in, brushing her hair back from her ear, and whispered something in a provocative tone. She grinned, wiggled her fingers at him in a cutesy goodbye gesture, and hopped off the front porch.

"Who was that?" Winry asked bluntly.

Edward closed the front door and headed to the stairs.

"Hey." Winry followed him. "Are you listening to me?"

He ignored her.

"Stop walking away from me!"

He entered his bedroom, shutting the door in her face.

Winry slammed her fist on the wood. "Ed!"

No response.

"If you don't come out, Ed, I'm—"

The doorknob turned.

"What the hell—"

"I figured it might be prudent to put on pants," he interrupted calmly, gesturing at his newly donned pair of sweats.

Winry glared at him, trying to cool her sudden surge of anger. "You could have just said that."

"You could have just refrained from acting like a fool."

Winry swallowed that one. "Who was that girl?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"She seems to think otherwise."

"She's delusional."

"Does she have a name?"

"Kate."

"Last name?"

"What the fuck, Winry? Is this an interrogation?"

"No, Ed. Of course not. I'm just trying to be a part of your life, that's all."

"I already am a part of your life, dumbass. We live together, don't we?"

"You would leave if you could." It was true. If he could hold down a job, he would have kicked himself out months ago. There was certainly nothing left in Resembool that compelled him to stay. The heaviness of the memories that resided in the walls of this house repulsed him like two magnets of the same pole, but he was trapped here for now: caught between a rock and a hard place, he was stuck in a world of memories; unwilling to stay, unable to leave.

Edward didn't have to respond. They both knew she was right.

"I'm going back to bed," Winry told him after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "There's turkey in the oven if you're hungry, but it's probably cold by now."

He frowned. "The oven or the turkey?"

Winry snickered, but then realized it wasn't supposed to be funny and stopped. "Both."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I'll make a sandwich out of it or something." He edged around her, careful to leave his bedroom without touching her even slightly.

"Feed Luda the scraps when you're done."

"Whatever."

"Ed!" she protested.

"What? She's a dumb dog an' I don't like her. I miss Den. Now that was a good dog."

"I miss her too, Ed, but it's not Luda's fault about Den, and she's just a little puppy anyway. You can't compare her to a fully-grown, trained animal. That's like trying to force a child to do an adult's…" She knew as soon as the words were out that she'd said them wrong, that Edward would make that comparison in his mind.

"I'll feed the dog," he told her, leaving the underlying issue unaddressed.

There was never an agreement or compromise in Edward and Winry's relationship… one merely appeased the other.

"Well… goodnight then, I guess. Remember I'm doing a tune-up on your leg tomorrow morning."

He whirled back around, horrified. "What? You never said that!"

"I've been giving you warnings for a week and a half about it. It would be easier if we did the arm and the leg at the same time, but you insisted we do it this way and I accommodated your insistence. You can't be telling me you're going to back out now!"

"Winry, I have plans. I'm gonna be doing… some stuff tomorrow. You should have told me earlier."

"I did tell you early! I can't believe you forgot! Do you even ever listen to me at all?"

"Well I don't know why you need to do all this stupid maintenance anyway—"

"You haven't let me NEAR your automail in months!"

"—never had to come in this often when I was younger—"

"You did too! You just never showed!"

"Because NOBODY CARES."

"Why are you so stubborn? All you have to do is admit you're wrong once in a while!"

"Why are you so demanding? Just give me a break!"

"Why are you so insensitive?"

" Why are you so whiny?"

"You're IMPOSSIBLE!"

"You're a bitch!"

"And you're the asshole who brought some whore into MY house in the middle of the night, locked himself in his room all evening, then woke me up trying to sneak her out the door before morning like a tramp! You're pathetic!"

Instead of screaming back, Edward held his tongue, letting Winry realize what she had said.

Winry gasped. "Ed, I didn't mean that, I—"

"And how long have you felt that way?" Each word was another accusation leveled, another pain inflicted, a flaming knife that seared as it stabbed.

"Ed…" Words shriveled and died on her lips.

He pushed her away from the door and slammed it in her face, pausing a moment so the house was entirely silent as he locked it.

Knowing what came next, Winry slowly came downstairs, walking like the dead, while Luda's nails clicked on the hardwood close behind. She sat down on the couch, grabbed a pillow, and screamed her frustration into it until she felt almost calm. When she lifted her head, the first thing she saw was Luda's concerned chocolate eyes inches from her face.

"Luda, you're not supposed to be on the couch," Winry said weakly.

Luda whined, placed her two front paws on Winry's lap, and dropped her head.

Winry sighed and stroked her pet's head, enjoying the company for now.

As expected, Edward showed his face a few minutes later, fully dressed as the Fullmetal Alchemist and ready to ditch.

This had happened before. Winry didn't have to turn around to know what he was wearing and what he was planning. "Where will you go?"

"Away."

"Where will you sleep at night?"

"I'll figure it out."

"With Kate?"

"Geez, Winry, you sound like a jealous lover. Give it a rest. She and I just fucked, that's all. It's not like I'm planning to marry the bitch."

"You shouldn't have casual sex with people like that. You know that, right? You know about diseases and stuff?"

"Ugh, Winry, of course! It's not like you think. Have a little faith already; I know how to tell who's not safe."

Winry pushed Luda off her lap and leaned over the back of the couch. "Yet you don't have the good judgment to at least give yourself till morning to think such a big decision over. Where will you live? Where will you work? How will you feed yourself? With what money? What if there's an emergency and you need medical attention?"

He stared at her blankly. "…That kind of stuff works itself out."

Winry shook her head and stood, leaving the couch to position herself between Edward and the path of exit. "Sleep on it, Ed. You look like hell."

He scowled rebelliously. "You can't force me to stay if I don't want to."

"You're making a poor decision."

"I beg to differ."

"You've been drinking."

"Not that much."

"It's more than none."

Edward tried to stare her down, but nothing happened. Winry was well versed in staring. He exhaled loudly. "Fine. Have it your way."

Winry secretly smiled.

"If I sleep on it, will you promise to let me do what I want in the morning? You at least owe me that."

She nodded, smiling a well-worn smile. "Yeah, Ed. Of course."

When he was out of sight, she uncrossed her fingers behind her back. She didn't feel bad about lying. She didn't plan on letting him go anywhere, but she'd let him think it was his choice.

It was almost like winning.