A/N: This one is meant to be an experiment on my part. I am in the process of writing a few one-shots that all have a title that starts with "If We Were..." I wanted to do something with all of my favorite couples from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. (I haven't read the manga yet, and I never saw the first anime, so bear with me.) The first one-shot is Edward and Winry centric, the second will feature Mustang and Hawkeye, and the third Ling and Lan Fan. They are all separate stories with disjointed continuity; each has a different rating and features different people.

Also! If you aren't caught up to speed with FMA: Brotherhood, there's a good chance these will contain spoilers. Just being safe and looking out for you guys.

Hope it's not too confusing. Enjoy the read and feel free to review, I love reading them!

If We Were Older

Winry held a gun to Scar. Edward held her back. It might have been permissible if they were older. Might.

T for violence.

Edward x Winry

x x x

She had nightmares.

In each one, she could never put the pistol down. On the better nights she was facing Scar. On the worse she was standing at point blank range from Edward.

On the better nights he came to her rescue. She was left in tears at an unmoving, blonde savior who simply frowned down at her. On the worse nights she murdered him and was left sobbing her heart out as she fell to her knees. Some night she understood. The majority of them, she couldn't comprehend why she even decided to pick up the gun in the first place.

It was for vengeance, wasn't it? It was to redeem her parents' lives, right?

Or perhaps it was to prove she herself was not afraid of death. Perhaps she clutched the gun to show that she would not die as they did. She would save herself incase he wasn't there to rescue her. Hell, as the days dragged on, it looked like he wouldn't even be able to save himself any more. The shadows laughed at her and reminded her of this fact—Edward, dear Edward Elric was a child, those shadows laughed, he was immature and overwhelmed. Her love would be the death of him, the shadows taunted.

Winry woke on the couch with tears in her eyes. It certainly wasn't true, she later realized, but at the time the shadows had seemed so convincing.

Another day passed. The Elric brothers came and went, going here and there and speaking to X amount of people in high places, trying to figure out this that and the other to get their bodies back. To save the world. To fix the shit that had befallen the world. Winry didn't know what was going on anymore. She told herself she didn't care so long as they came back alive. But it was getting hard to believe, even if she said it out loud. It was impossible not to care.

Edward sank onto the couch beside her, or rather a good two feet across the way, leaning on the complete opposite arm rest, and sighed after a hard day's work. His automail grinded and clanked as his arms folded behind his head. Winry smiled inwardly at the sounds that might as well have been music to her ears. Yet as she glanced sideways to him, ready to ask how his day was, she bit her lips. The way he sat, his arms blocking his face in such a precise manner, she knew something was wrong. He was hiding something.

"Edward?" she pressed in a tiny voice.

He didn't respond for a long while.

"I wish we were older already," Edward growled.

"What?" It was not the response she was expecting.

"Then I wouldn't have to deal with this shit. I'd either be dead or in the future. I just want to know the end already," he continued in perfect rhythm.

Her eyes went wide. Dying was not an option as far as she was concerned, but she was too startled by the words to express her opinion.

"If we were just five years older…Al would have his body and you and I would be together. Married, even, maybe with a kid…"

Winry couldn't breathe. Edward wasn't making sense. She hadn't heard him speak of his future since they were kids. Even then all he ever spoke of was becoming a great alchemist like his father, filling the shoes of the man of the house…never did he comment on his desire to have a family or even fall in love. If she didn't believe so firmly that she herself loved him, she likely wouldn't have any hope for him finding someone.

He glanced her astonished face and chuckled. "You can't tell me you haven't thought of it." As much as he masked it, he knew her heart very well. It was his own he was scared of. As far as he was concerned, his heart would stay locked behind steel bars until everything else in the world had been fixed. He didn't need anyone to see to him until then. But Winry, the poor thing, would always be looking out for him before herself. Something about that fact was comforting. Something about it was frightening.

Edward's heart raced for a split second. He promptly closed his eyes. The image that greeted him was wonderful.

He was taller. His hair was longer. Alphonse was stronger but his face was warm and comforting, as he had always known it to be. Winry… Winry was remarkably beautiful. She was the same and yet somehow different, thin and lithe with worn hands from automail work and at the same time she still didn't wear nearly enough clothing to be considered decent (though he didn't mind).

The vision quickly faded, and Edward was left smiling to himself, his teeth gnashed behind the grin.

Winry suddenly spoke. "I can't think of it," she whimpered. "I can't think beyond the week if you don't even believe you'll survive. I can't tell you how many times I've had to convince myself you're some type of superhuman that can't die because I don't think I could take it if you did. I don't like worrying, Ed. I don't want to have to live like this, worrying… I want to be able to think of the future, but…but I can't. I can't if I can't assure myself you'll be there."

She would have gone on but she suddenly cut her words short when she realized he began to slouch—Edward had passed out on the spot and was slumping into sleep. Winry was left leaning into the couch, looking in his direction with watery eyes for a pitifully long time before Alphonse entered the room and quietly informed her that his brother hadn't slept in three days.

Filled to the brim with concern, Winry felt she would burst. However, she silently promised herself she would not cry in front of the brothers, as she knew how much it hurt them. Instead, Winry bit back her tears and crept across the couch. She drew a quick breath and thought to herself, if he had the courage to speak of his future, one that he saw her in, she could sleep there, beside him, without offense. The girl curled onto herself tightly and rest against his side. The slightest smile crept onto her face but soon slipped away as sleep crept onto her being as well.

Alphonse crossed the room once more that evening. Much to his surprise (and secret delight), he found his brother's arm around their longtime friend Winry Rockbell, both deep in sleep and breathing in time with one and other. Al always knew it was meant to be.

That evening, Winry dreamt of her future. Two blonde men stood just out of reach, each smiling and laughing. One held his hand out to her. His hair was longer, and he was taller than she had ever known him to be.

Finally.