It really wasn't too great a feat for him to fall asleep in a hay wagon chock full of people that were traveling along a jostling country road. It truly wasn't. He'd always been told he could sleep just about everywhere, if he wanted to. And he slept pretty soundly for someone being in an upright position amongst a bunch of scraggly hay.

Sleeping soundly, of course, until the vehicle pulling the wagon hit a particularly rough pothole down in the dirt road.

Jolting forward with a startled yelp, Edward snapped awake an instant before he toppled to the hay-ridden floor of the wagon. He was shot several different looks from several different eyes. One pair of eyes had the courtesy to look concerned, though, and the owner of those eyes piped up.

"Are you okay, Brother?"

You couldn't really tell the hay from his hair, anyway, but Edward still went to pick the straw sticking out of his golden-blond bangs and ponytail. His eyes were also the same exotic color...maybe just a bit more amber, in hue. All the golden pigment was enough to make you think the boy was made purely from gold, himself. How fitting that would have been, knowing he was an alchemist. Scratch that. Knowing he had 'been' an alchemist fit a little better.

Edward shrugged a shoulder. "I'm about as fine as can be when hurled across a hay wagon at light speed, Al," Ed informed his little brother, a grin breaking out over his face. Well, this got a chuckle out of his brother...but that was about it, as far as amusement went. Then, his distant gaze went back out into the fields they were passing by.

Ed's face fell. So much for any sort of conversation with Alphonse. He had been giving those looks ever since he had come to the "Other Side of the Gate" with him. Perhaps he was a little homesick, too?

He began stretching, trying to get the cramped feeling out of two of his limbs. The other two--his right arm and left leg--were prosthetic. He couldn't exactly complain about them getting cramped. Smirking down at his fabricated right hand that didn't quite match the skin tone of the other, he suddenly yawned immensely. The other hand--the left hand--moved around behind his head and scratched--dislodging several pieces of straw. That's when he felt it. He stopped short once his hand passed over a large knot on the back of his head. Funny. He'd never noticed 'that' before. Now that he knew of its location, it would drive him crazy. Oh, 'super'.

'Where did I get a bump like that, anyway?' Edward wondered inwardly to himself, leaning an elbow on the wood railing that encased the wagon. He propped his face up onto his hand, pondering to himself. He hadn't hit his head very hard, lately. Where could it have--?

Then, suddenly, he had it...

A bittersweet smile replaced the thoughtful frown. Oh, yes. ...He remembered, now... He couldn't believe he had forgotten its origin, in the first place. Had living in this other world really caused him to forget such memories? Had it really shoved them all to the back of his mind...as ingrained as they used to be...?

'But', he remembered, now. He knew just where that bump had come from and knew just who had inflicted it, too.

She had been his automail mechanic. In other words, she was the one who fixed-up his prosthetic limbs when he had battered them to the point where you couldn't even tell what they were, anymore. He remembered how furious she used to get with him way back when. He used to be so reckless with the automail she had spent 'hours slaving away at'. He recalled how irritated with him she would get when he'd forget to pick her up at the train station. Or how about how aggravated she would be with him when he wouldn't drink his milk?

The Elric's reminiscient smile only broadened as he replayed a conversation they once had over in his mind:

"You'll never drink your milk! This is why you'll always be the size of a bean, all your life!" She shouted, shoving a glass of the vile liquid into his face.

"A bean?!!" He demanded, furious at how she compared his size to that of a bean.

"Yes, a bean," She said resolutely, placing a hand on his head good-naturedly.

Edward chuckled a little to himself. Yes, she had always been known to fly off-the-handle, from time-to-time. But then...they didn't 'always' argue with eachother. He'd never forget some of the things she had done or endured for him and his brother.

She was the same person who gave him automail when Alphonse had brought him to her house with two bleeding stumps for an arm and a leg. She was the same person who fixed that automail when it busted...even pulling all-nighters, if she had to. She was that very same person who had told him that she wanted to be there for him and Alphonse.

"I want to help you...so your road won't be so hard..." He specificially remembered her saying that.

Edward's golden eyes saddened. Yes, she had helped them out countless, countless times. And how had they repaid her, in the end? They left her in their home world on the side of the Gate adjacent to this one. For all the times she had repaired his automail and for all those times she gave those kind, comforting words...they had just upped and left her.

Did he tell her goodbye...?

...No.

Did he ever tell her that she meant a lot to him?

...No.

Did he ever thank her once, for all she had done?

...Yes. He had thanked her, at least for the automail. Those were his final words to her before he left that world and came to this one. He left her feeling like he wanted to tell her something more.

...Like...maybe he wanted to say more than just 'thank you'.

His eyes narrowed further out of the sadness for leaving her behind. She had never liked being left-out...not even when she was little... All the while, he continued fingering the bump on the back of his head. It was only at Al's voice did he jolt out of his guilty stupor.

"Brother? Is there something wrong with your head?" Al inquired, a curious gaze set into his brother's features.

Edward turned to his brother deliberately. "..." A smile suddenly dominated his solemn expression, and he slowly shook his head from side-to-side. "Nah. Not at all, Al,"

If anything...there was something right with his head.

After all, it held the only physical remnant of her that he had left.

He closed his eyes, leaving Alphonse to wonder.

'So, Winry,' he mused, 'what would I have say to you, if I had the chance to speak to you, again? ...I don't know, really.' His gaze swept out to the fields rushing by as he meditated on this thought. He could almost see her out there, among a patch of wildflowers near a rickety fence. Her blue eyes were smiling, waiting for his answer.

'What would I tell you...? Hah, thank you for the goose-egg you left on my head, maybe?'

And Winry would give a sulky frown. She wouldn't know he had been joking, and that was 'not' the type of goodbye she would be expecting, at all. As a sort of reprimand for such a crappy fairwell, she would whip out that wrench of her's and hurl it at his head...

That wrench...a source of what he had believed to be pain for so long...now brought him the greatest joy in the world.

That imaginary wrench whirled at his head...and he met it with a smile.

And it didn't even hurt.