They were lying in bed, curled next to each other. Their heads were nearly touching, their hair mingled on the pillows around them. The mid-afternoon sun streamed through the window, bathing the bed in warm light. It had been a lazy day.
Winry tinkered with an automail order for all of an hour, after waking up around noon, before she sought out her boyfriend. He'd been outside, working out lightly to build the muscle back in his right arm. Al napped in the grass a few feet away, laid out on a blanket with a book resting on his stomach. She smiled briefly at his form before walking up to Edward. He'd stopped his stretching to stand and face her. His face was warm and open, his eyes squinted slightly in concern.
She grabbed the edge of his shirt gently and tugged, silently communicating for him to follow her. He came easily enough, trailing after her curiously as she led him inside. She pulled him all the way to her bedroom, pushing the door open and gesturing to the bed. She flopped onto it heavily, twisting in the blankets and peaking at him. He grinned slowly at her, pulling off his sweat shirt as he walked to the edge of the bed. He crawled in carefully so as not to jostle her as he laid out next to her.
They'd been laying there for an hour before either moved. Winry reached out carefully, her fingers whispering over the skin of his left arm. Ed barely suppressed a shiver that rose up his spine. When her fingertips ran along the inside of his palm, he curled his fingers around hers. He held them gently, enjoying the connection to her. She didn't pull away, simply using her other hand to trace invisible partners along his arm. She turned the appendage over slowly, continuing to draw.
Ed dozed as she did it, his eyes closed in content. He felt her fingers dance over small bumps and scars as they went. He peaked his eyes open when she paused. She was holding his arm tightly, staring intently at the flesh as if she was working out some large puzzle. He slowly released her hand to push a strand of hair out of her face.
"What's up, Win?" he murmured softly. She looked up at him from under her lashes. She relaxed her grip and ran her thumb over his skin.
"What are all these from?" Her chin trembled when she spoke. It was always a little jarring for her to see all the scars Edward had accumulated. She always knew that he was fighting and hurting himself, but it was rare that she studied his flesh limbs as intently as his automail ones. Metal was far harder than flesh; his arm had retained all the scars his automail had been spared from. There were dozens and dozens of them peppered along his arm, various sizes and shades.
Ed stared down at the crown of her head, hearing the wobble in her voice. He sighed softly and pushed hair behind her ear to stroke her cheek.
"Some are from fighting. When you have two of your four limbs made of metal, it's hard to always remember to be careful. I was a bit reckless with the flesh ones," he joked quietly, absorbing her chastising punch humbly. He swallowed before continuing.
"Some are from...me. When it got to be too much. When I couldn't handle it anymore. When I needed something I could control-"
"But why this, Ed?" she whispered harshly. A tear rolled against his thumb on her cheek. He hated himself in that moment, more than he had ever before. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he started speaking again.
"Everyone else hurt me whenever they wanted. I never felt like I had a choice than to fight and hurt and bleed. I liked the ability to control when I bled, control how and where I hurt." It felt weird to explain this to her. He'd never been this open with anyone regarding his self harm. Not even with Al, who had seen the scars and lines running up and down his arm. He blamed it on the sleepy warmth in the air and the soft joy at finally being home. Regardless, he decided that today he would be open with her.
Winry traced the lines gently, trying to think of Ed in a dark room somewhere, lonely and hurting, holding a blade to himself. She shook with the thoughts and pressed her face into his chest. He held her tightly against him, kissing her head and stroking her hair.
"How long?" she mumbled. "How long since the last time?"
"Six months, before the Promised day," he murmured back, his breath tickling her hair. She absorbed the information and slowly nodded, soothed by the fact that it had been that long.
"Do you still feel that way?" She was almost too scared to ask. Ed shifted against her, holding her more tightly.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "I'll get waves of panic and feel like everything is spiraling. But I don't want to do that anymore."
Winry's breath hitched in a hiccup and she nodded hard against him. "You can come and talk to me like this more often, you know?" she muttered forcefully, gripping his sides. Ed smiled wistfully and kissed her temple.
"I don't want to scare you, Winry. The things Al and I have seen, what we've had to do. It scares the hell out of me, I couldn't imagine telling you."
Winry pushed against him and gripped his face tightly between both of her hands. "You listen to me, Edward Elric. I've stood by you and Al through all of what you went through. Never once was I so scared that I thought about turning my back on you guys. Why the fuck would I decide run now when you've finally come home?"
Ed blinked at her in surprise, absorbing her words and staring at her. Her nails gripped against his chest, snapping him back into his sense. Gently, he drew her back to his chest and held her. He peppered kisses on her face and hair, soaking in her presence.
"Alright, Win. You're right," he mumbled against her ear. "I'll try to open up."
Winry nodded against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him tightly. They held each other into the evening, mumbling quietly and kissing occasionally. They rose when Al came into the house, shuffling sleepily and calling for them. Winry caught his wrist before they walked out, holding it tightly. She stared openly at him, taking in his soft expression and messy hair.
"I love you, you know," she blurted, blushing wildly. Her eyes shifted away in her embarrassment. Ed gaped at her and stared down at her hand holding his. She had her own scars peppered on her arms, nicks and cuts from working on automail or bumping into things. They had gotten their scars in such different ways; his fighting and surviving, hers from helping and healing. And this amazing, loud, gentle gearhead woman loved him. He couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face, so big that it hurt his cheeks a little bit.
"I love you too," he replied confidently, his cheeks pink. He planted a solid kiss to her cheek to prove his point, enjoying the way her cheeks got impossibly brighter. She peaked at him, taking in his carefree smile and light blush. She smiled herself and punched his arm gently. She knew that Ed had been telling the truth about opening up to her, he could tell by the bright look in his eyes. When he lied to her, or edged questions, his could never look her in the eyes. Now, he was so open and bright, making her fall even more in love with him in that moment. She'd make sure, until her dying breath, that Ed never had to hide away from her again. Not when he was finally, finally home.