For hours, Ed watched spindly shadows drift across the sharp blade of light at the bottom of his bedroom door. Beneath layers of notes and details woven together in tangles of red string, the pale walls sagged under the weight of so many sleepless nights. His own silhouette repeatedly disrupted the silvery moonlight pooling in a perfect square on the wooden floor, the warped plank just beyond giving beneath his weight with a muted creak.
With a shallow sigh, Ed finally lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. The springs whined softly as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. Behind him, a shadow lingered on the other side of the door.
"Ed?" Winry asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she rapped her knuckles softly against the worn wood, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Win," he answered, "Go to bed."
He rolled his eyes as the door clicked open anyway. He could sense her lingering a few few behind him and a little to the left, the air around her crackling as she debated her next step.
"If you're going to come in, you might as well come in all the way," Ed muttered.
His eyes remained fixed to the moonlit floor in front of him, even as Winry disturbed the continuity of one of its corners. The light reared up to illuminate one of her sandal-clad feet and trailed off where her heavy tan jumpsuit bunched around her knee. The bitter scent of grease filled his nose.
"What's going on with you?" she asked, "You disappeared up here after barely touching your dinner."
"I wasn't hungry."
Judging by the way the shadows shifted, Winry had folded her arms across her chest.
"Not hungry?"
Her voice was riddled with disbelief and he could clearly picture her expression; right eyebrow raised and the atmosphere in her eyes veering towards stormy.
"I don't buy that at all," she continued.
Ed shifted on the bed until she was completely out of his sight, "I just need some time to think—"
"About what?" she asked, as she turned and squinted to make out the layers of notes overtaking the wall behind her, "And when are you going to take all this down?"
"When I want to," Ed replied, his tone growing sharp.
"What kind of an answer is that?" Winry asked, "It's not like you need them anymore."
"Maybe I do," retorted Ed, the crease between his brows growing deeper.
"To reread them? That's going to be pretty difficult when you're sitting up here moping in the dark."
"I told you, I just need some time to think," Ed's voice rising dangerously above a whisper.
"Something's on your mind," she insisted, "Please talk to me."
"Leave it alone, Winry."
The room suddenly dimmed as the blond mechanic stepped in front of the window, her hands on her hips. The moon rising behind her set her aflame in blue light.
"Edward Elric, I'm not going to leave this room until you tell me what's wrong! I know you, and you sulking up here alone isn't like you at all. Al noticed it too. "
Ed refused to meet her gaze, instead fixing his eyes on the darkest corner of the bedroom.
"Go away," he muttered bitterly.
"Are you serious?!" Winry gaped, her arms growing animated as her exasperation intensified, "You're acting like such a child! What's with the pouting and empty answers? This is just the way you always acted when someone brought up Hohenheim—"
Heavy silence clamped down on her words as Ed suddenly rose from the bed, his hands grasping tightly around her shoulders.
"I'm stuck god dammit!"
Winry remained frozen as Ed's gaze bore into her own with a golden ferocity she'd never encountered. Then, as quickly as the moment came, his eyes dulled, his grip loosed, and he sank back onto the bed.
"I'm stuck," he said again, resting his face in his hands.
Every response in Winry's head faltered under the weight of his declaration.
"There were plenty of times before when we didn't know what the next step would be," he continued before she could regain her composure, "Weeks. Months even would go by, but we always figured out every puzzle put in front of us. Every step we took put us closer to righting everything that was wrong. We succeeded too. Not everyone can say that—"
"Ed?" WInry asked as she eased herself onto the bed next to him.
"— We got our bodies back, we defeated the homunculi, and I even got on good terms with my old man. Don't me wrong, I'm happy the way everything turned out—"
"Ed."
The blond alchemist's head snapped up as he felt Winry's hand come to a rest on his left shoulder.
"It's just, I've been staring at the next big puzzle for a year now, and I don't even know where to begin. I never regretted it for a second, but without alchemy I…"
"You're a gigantic idiot," replied Winry with a giggle.
Ed frowned and folded his arms across his chest.
"So I finally tell you what's bothering me, and all you do is laugh?"
Winry shook her head.
"You're a scientist, Ed," she explained, "And even if your gate was destroyed, alchemy will always fascinate you. It will always creep into your mind and fill you with questions, and those questions, I know, will pull you the ends of the earth to find their answers—"
The frown slowed faded from Ed's face.
"— It's always been your way into any puzzle, and there's no reason the next one should be any different. I believe you once called it an occupation hazard?"
"W-Winry… I-I…"
His thoughts refused to organize themselves into coherent sentences as his heart thudded relentlessly against his ribs.
"Follow them, Ed," she said, and offered him one of her heart-stopping smiles, "I know you're been worried about Al, too, but don't worry, he's got me to look after him!"
"Uh… ah th-thanks Win, I—"
"And you have me too, of course!" she added as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.
Ed froze as he felt wildfire erupt across his cheeks. He silently prayed the darkness would be enough to conceal it.
"We'll talk more in the morning," she reassured him as she slowly pulled her arms away, "I just hope you're feeling a bit better."
"Uh… huh," he managed to answer.
"Great!" replied Winry as she rose from the bed and headed towards the door.
Several notes tacked to wall loosened in her wake and flurried to the ground.
"Night, Ed!"
"N-night!"
It wasn't until the door softly clicked shut that his thoughts cleared.
"Crazy gearhead," he mumbled, and as naturally as breathing, the questions of alchemy he had pushed away began to whisper in his head.