Winry wipes the sweat from her brow, taking just a second to actually breathe before she, yet again, attacks the hunk of metal on the table. Sighing, she works with meticulous concentration as her mind exits reality, existing only in that plane of haze as she bites her lip, eyes glazed over and focused, seemingly on nothing and everything all at the same time.

It's during this time when she can forget, when she can forgo the slight loneliness that hollows out her being. She has grandma, and Den, but there is just a slight ache she refuses to place. One single spot that hasn't been filled that she fears won't be for a very long time.

When she is done working, she polishes and looks for more projects, but can only frown when she realizes that she's fixed almost every single contraption in the place and had absolutely nothing to do.

Standing, she bites her lip again and fingers the earrings Ed gave her.

Ed.

Edward. She sighs. She misses him, it's no lie and she sees no reason to bury it under her gut like some kind of secret. It's fact, like saying she breathes or lives or is hungry. She just KNOWS and she refuses to fight against it. To do so would be the equivalent of fighting a tide in the ocean, of holding your breath.

You can do so for only a short while before you begin to regret it and lose.

So Winry looks down at the floor, her eyes downturned and drooping. She feels like a ghost of herself when he is gone and that is enough to make her grimace. If ever there was a time to need strength, this would be it. The absences he took from her life seemed to carve little milestones into her chest. Had she two bins, she could fill the one with memories without him far faster than she could with memories WITH him and that was just sad to her. While he went off, grew up, risked his life as he had to (HAD to, because he was Fullmetal), she stayed. It was like forever being a wisp that tethered him back to what he once called "home", unable to move on and only solid in the confines of the small house.

But, Winry reasoned with herself, that's nothing to be ashamed of. There is a special kind of strength in what she does. More powerful and profound that the hit she can deliver if she had a wrench in her hand and perhaps even stronger than the blows Ed can shoot out at his enemies. So, she walks outside, seeing the sky begin to change colors, and looks out at the road she wants to see him walk on. She wants to see his face instead of his back and sometimes she just can't stand the thought of his red coat and long braid being the last memory of him if he were to be erased.

When they say their goodbyes, she still watches. She watches as he turns his back to her, rejecting her humble offer of home and comfort while she holds in the clench of her stomach because she has to; that's just what women do. That's just what she does and so, she sits down on the small stoop and looks at the road, the sun setting, and waits. A piece of her wants to go out, running down the ribbon of a trail so she can find him, hug him, see him. She wants to leave, wants to be with him and reinforce the fact that he will not disappear from her life. The very thought is enough to make her cringe.

No, she tells herself. He will not disappear. He will come home, back to her because he must. He must come back because she had to wait and put her faith in him, had to swallow down her fear in favor of trust. So she looks out, watches as the sun rises, as the world comes to life and she does what she always does.

She waits and waits and waits.

Riza is polishing her gun again, and it seems like that's all she gets to do. Roy is sleeping in the other room and even Black Hayate is asleep in front of the door. She is taking watch, as she always does, because, well, what other option does she have? He needs her and so, she's there.

But sometimes, it's a little hard. She wants to scold herself for being so sentimental but she simply can't help it. The drop in her belly is enough to signify that she should just stop fighting the fact that Roy is a difficult man to love.

He has ALWAYS been a difficult man to love, but she stays because she wants to, because she WANTS to, she reinforces as a piece of her whispers that she NEEDS to. Riza Hawkeye does not NEED to do anything. She is loyal to a complete fault and incredibly selfless; a true soldier, but she does not NEED to do something. She has always had a choice and she accepts the ones she's made.

She chose to be with him and she chose to love him. How irrational it is to believe that one can't control their emotions enough to help love? Loving Roy is natural, normal to her, but, just like nature, it is sometimes difficult.

She chides herself again, shaking her head. She shouldn't be saying how difficult or easy it is to love anyone, and lord knows that she doesn't have to love him anyway. Her love is not worth any salt in the relationship they have, that of shield and sword where she takes the blows and deals them as well.

No, only her devotion, her loyalty strengthened by that adoration that she holds for the flame alchemist. Maybe, she muses, her adoration is strengthened by her loyalty. But she scoffs, a small smile twitching at her lips. She's not a philosopher, nor is she a curious woman. In fact, she's relatively simple: someone with few complexities. You tell her to wear a skirt and it will be black, hitting her knees with no billow. Her shirt will be a white, fully buttoned blouse.

Give her a uniform and she is not picky. She obeys as she is told to obey because she is a dog of the military and she follows orders because she should, but not because she NEEDS to.

No, she says again, she does what she wants and she makes the choices. Need is fueled by an absolute, like being locked in a room. She refuses to live under the rule of another's thumb and will do as she pleases.

It just so happens that what she pleases to do often correlates with what she is told to do. And as a soldier, that is perfect. She has always been sharp and precise, never really missing anything so she is a fantastic soldier, but if she WANTS, she will disobey.

She has learned that lesson the hard way: not all orders are meant to be obeyed. Grimacing, she stands, putting away her gun because she can't really stand to be around it any longer with the memories flooding her mind and instead walks to kitchen to cut up and peel an apple.

She grabs a plate and a knife, knowing that the sun will be up soon and walks to the room Roy is sleeping in. It is her CHOICE to follow him, her choice to do as HE says even when it does not coexist with what the military says. She sits down at the chair by his bed and begins to cut and peel, something she can put her concentration on fully so she avoids looking at her commander's face.

Maybe he'll appreciate the token, she wonders as she lays out the slices on the plate, setting the small ceramic dish onto his bedside table. Maybe not, she doesn't particularly care. She did so because she wanted to, because she chose to. Silently, she stands and exits the room, making sure that the door is quiet as it shuts and she looks out the window as the dawn breaks out in front of her eyes.

It is her choice to wait.

So she does, she waits, because she knows the love for him she has will not fade away but he needs his time and she wants to let him have it.

She does not want to wait. But a part of her whispers that she needs to.

I don't know why, but for some reason, this just came to me. It feels strange writing for an anime I saw years ago. Man, it was ages since I last saw FMA. Loved it, it made me sad, but I loved it. I guess all this writing is just getting to me.

I was a total shipper for Edry, Royza and AlMay. I swore I would go down with those ships! XD