What cannot be said

will be wept.

-Sappho

It was the longest three minutes of my life. Three minutes of pure torture as I sat, nervously bouncing my knee up and down and waited. I tried to focus on breathing -inhale, exhale, inhale again, and silently told myself to take this one step at a time. There was a chance I could be worrying for nothing. The timer on my phone chimed, signaling what I prayed would be the end of my suffering. There was a large possibility that reading the results would only be the beginning of my anguish. I gulped, held my breath, and looked at the stick in my hand.

Oh dammit. Oh dammit.

It explained an awful lot. My never-ending hunger. My sleepless nights. My boobs getting bigger and more sensitive. Also the vomiting. My vision became smattered with large white splotches and I leaned over to hang my head between my knees and waited for the loud circus music in my head to stop. This was bad. Very very bad. Ed was gonna…

My stomach made a distressed gurgle and I sank myself from the couch to the floor and spread out flat on my belly, my cheek smushed into the rug and my fingers suddenly tingling as I huffed out air like a grumpy horse and pouted miserably. I'd missed a pill awhile back, and as precaution told Ed to wear a condom the next time we had sex. But a few nights later we went out for drinks with Al and Mei and stumbled home hammered and horny and without coherent thought, so in the nightstand drawer the raincoats remained. I was kicking myself for being so hungover that it took me until the following evening to get the morning after pill.

I didn't know if I wanted children. I thought kids were great, I enjoyed their bright happy smiles and hilarious lack of verbal filters, but my life was complicated and crazy and not something I was sure I wanted to bring a child into. Sure, there was a part of me that kind of liked entertaining the idea of motherhood, but there was an equal part of me that didn't know if I had the proper patience for children. There were plenty of examples of people in the world would shouldn't be parents, and I believed that just because you have working reproductive organs doesn't always mean you should use them. I believed that society had evolved past the stereotypical pattern of get married, move to suburbs, have babies. That wasn't to say that parenthood wasn't a beautiful, wonderful thing. To properly raise a human for this world is by far one of the hardest things anyone could do, I just wasn't sure it was for me. Yes, sometimes I got baby fever when I'd see those shining eyes and chubby cheeks out for a stroll with mommy or daddy, but that fever was sometimes squashed by toddlers throwing screaming tantrums and the faces of the exhausted parents who were working so hard to paint on a smile and try to make it through the frustration in a calm and reasonable manner, when in reality they might've secretly wanted to chuck their kid out a window.

These were the thoughts I'd contemplated since I was old enough to even think about motherhood, and I'd always found myself incredibly unsure of it all. I thought about being so young and losing both of my parents at once, how horrible it was and how fragile life was. The thought of leaving a child parentless was devastating, and I couldn't even begin to fathom how it would feel to be a parent and lose a child. It happened to people everyday. It was a possible hardship that I just wasn't sure I wanted to risk. It was an absolute truth that no matter how well adjusted a child becomes into adulthood, their parents would never ever stop constantly worrying. The idea of loving something so much and then having it running around in the world completely exposed to danger, I couldn't set myself up for that kind of constant worry. It was already hard enough constantly worrying when Edward was away on missions.

That was the bigger reason for the grueling dread I felt in my core. Edward was away. He'd been gone for two months, and he was coming home soon. I hadn't told him about my unusual behavior because it wasn't serious and there was no point in worrying him if he couldn't do anything about it. Now I was going to give him something to really freak the fuck out about, because Edward absolutely, positively, one million percent did not want kids. Ever. We'd had a few long conversations about it after the parade of mutual friends and their prodding questions began pouring in around the 2-year mark in our relationship, and it had only worsened since we'd begun planning a wedding. Edward didn't trust himself. His life was dangerous and scary, and for most of it he didn't believe he'd ever be normal. He never thought he'd be getting married, he never thought he'd find someone to fall in love with, there were several times when he thought he wouldn't live to see the next day wether it be by the enemy's hand or by his very own. Children hardly ever crossed his mind until he was sent to protect Shou Tucker and wound up adoring 4-year old Nina Tucker as though she were a little sister …or a daughter of his own. Her death solidified his decision to never reproduce because he'd considered himself ill-equipped to protect a child from his life, and the shakiness of his mental state was not the best thing to knowingly bring a baby into. That reasoning alone made it easy enough for me to get on board with not having children, because he and I were still a family. We would still lead full and happy lives because we were together, and it was easy to decide not to have children since I was undecided to begin with, and choosing not to be a parent meant you weren't making a commitment to anything.

I pulled myself to my feet and shuffled into the bathroom. I'd chugged a half-gallon of water and taken three tests just to be sure, and there was something about peeing on plastic sticks that made me instantly crave a shower. As I stripped of my clothes and turned on the shower to begin heating I stopped to examine myself in the large mirror. I didn't look different, and my body didn't feel any differently than it had an hour ago before knowing the truth, but I felt nauseous and paused for a moment, waiting to see if I would be sick again. I'd gotten sick every morning for the past week, and I had been so busy at the library I'd failed to notice my missing period. I couldn't remember how long it'd been since I'd had one.

A few days later found me scurrying throughout the apartment; my bare feet patting from ceramic tile to hardwood and back as I ran around straightening up and watching the pie baking in the oven. Edward would be home any minute and I was nervous. I had kept the pregnancy to myself for nearly a week, wanting to wait until he was home to tell him while also buying some time to figure out how I was going to broach the subject.

All my worry disappeared for a brief and beautiful moment when I heard the soft ping of the elevator and turned to see from my place in the kitchen. The doors slid open and there he was. Black cargo pants and boots, a fitted black tshirt, and that cocky grin that became wicked when his golden eyes zeroed in on me. I found myself breathless and rooted where I stood, realizing in that moment how desperately I'd missed him. He set his large canvas bag down before sauntering over to me and taking my hand. He planted a kiss on my forehead.

"Hey you."

"Hi." I breathed out, snaking my arms around him to bury my face in his shoulder as he held me. His crisp and earthy sent was so comforting; I hadn't washed his pillowcase since before he left just so I'd be able to smell him every night. He pulled back to look at me.

"I'm starving, food please?" He asked. I giggled in response and nodded, moving to take the pie from the oven and I asked him how his flight was.

An hour later we'd finished eating and were curled up together on the sofa enjoying each others company. Ed told me a little bit about the mission and what countries he was in, and I filled him in on what work I'd been doing with the exhibit curators at the library. It was heaven just being together again, Hulu providing low background noise and me laughing at Ed's absurd impersonation of a cranky Mustang busting his balls for taking longer than expected to finish the mission.

'Tell him now.' A tiny voice said. I set my glass of water down on the side table and looked back at him, his gaze fixated on the flatscreen as he grinned at John Stewart once again making politics a laughing matter. I opened my mouth to speak only to have my words catch in my throat. I couldn't ruin this. I knew what his reaction would be, and it would be a giant fight. He would be angry and scared, and beyond stressed out. I didn't want to rob him of his peace the moment he got home. I knew I had to tell him, but I just couldn't get it out. A few minutes passed and he stood from the sofa pulling me up with him towards the bedroom.

"I would love to take full advantage of you," he said with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows, earning a laugh from me, "but I'm jet-lagged beyond belief. I'm going to bed."

I nodded in understanding and stood on tip-toes to plant a soft kiss on his mouth. He responded by sliding an arm around me and pulling me against him to give me a kiss that counted, deep and full with fireworks shooting off in all directions in my belly. It broke my heart, because I still had to tell him and I was running out of time; I knew I needed to make a decision about wether or not to keep it. But I would delay the inevitable storm for one more day.

I awoke the next day and rolled over to him sitting up in bed with coffee and his iPad, looking domestically adorable.

"Good morning." He said as he slid a flesh finger up the screen, scrolling through the pages of the New York Times.

"Morning. How long have you been up?"

"Since 4:30. My clock's all over the place. But the good news is..." He set down his iPad and coffee on the nightstand and turned back to hover over me as he slid a hand up my side. "...I'm ready to take advantage of you."

I couldn't help laughing happily as he descended on top of me to playfully attack my neck as my arms went around him. His warm mouth on my skin after being away for so long was like a feast after days of fasting. The feel of taught muscles in his back began to very slowly wind the coils in my lower belly as he kissed me, and I felt his hands slide under my shirt. His thumb softly ran over my nipple earning a gasp from me and he grinned, savoring my reaction to such a small and simple touch before kissing me again and pushing his hot tongue past my lips. I welcomed it happily, and laced my fingers into his long and wild hair as his hand shifted from my breast to slide lower …lower …before softly touching the black lacy edge of my undies as his mouth returned to my throat. Warm fingers slipped under fabric and passed themselves over my wetness, and the moment he dove in I felt my stomach roll and I froze.

"Omigod." I murmured as my fingers flew to my mouth. I felt him grin against my neck.

"I know baby-"

"-No. Get off. Omigod. Get off, get off!" I pushed him back and scrambled out of bed to make a bee-line for the bathroom, having barely enough time to slam the door behind me before I pulled back my hair and vomited into the toilet. After retching twice I paused, breathing deeply and waiting for the nausea to pass before I slowly got to my feet and moved to the sink to brush my teeth. I was fighting back the nervous panic growing in my chest and swishing my foamy toothbrush over every inch inside my mouth when I heard soft knocking and the door slowly cracked open.

"Win? You okay?" He peered in through the gap in the door and I nodded, my eyes cast down at the sink as I continued brushing. The door swung wide and he stood next to me with the stoic, analytical look he got when he was trying to figure something out without asking questions. I spat and rinsed, and wiped my mouth on a hand towel before shuddering and turning to him.

"Sorry." I said, still unable to meet his eyes.

"Don't be. You're obviously not feeling well, but that's kinda scary because you don't get sick, right?"

I nodded slowly. Shit. He was right, I'd never been ill in my entire life. The only time I ever got sick was from the side effects of the medical experiments and those all went away in a matter of hours. My body had a perfect immune system and destroyed any disease entering my blood, so falling ill on my own would mean something was very wrong. I looked up at Ed and was met with palpable anxiety. Sure he was beautifully composed as usual, but I could see the underlying flicker of concern in his gaze. He gathered me to him and I clutched the fabric of his tshirt in my hand, feeling his increased heart rate thumping under my palm. He was afraid for me.

"Let's get you downstairs to the hospital." He took my hand and started to gently pull me along with him into the bedroom, but I stopped him.

"No, Ed. It's ...it's not what you think. I'm not sick." My heart smashed against my ribcage frantically. This was it, I had to tell him. He shot me an incredulous look.

"Of course you are. You don't have to be embarrassed babe, it happens to everyone. Did you eat something bad maybe?"

I pulled in a shaky breath and stepped to him, settling my hands on his strong arms. I bit my lip in frustration and fixed my eyes on his chest and it came out an exhaled whisper.

"Edward I'm pregnant."

Nothing. He remained rigid and unblinking, for a moment I thought he might've stopped breathing. But then muscles shifted, and he stepped backward, out of my grasp and my arms fell limp to my sides. That razor-sharp glare was all I could see. It was angry, wild, and accusatory.

"How could you let this happen?" He spat. My response died in my throat from utter shock. I knew he'd be angry, but I wasn't expecting this. I found my voice again and said,

"I didn't do this by myself you know, it was an accident-"

"-YOU forgot to take your fucking pill!" He hollered. Oh no. Oh HELL NO. My blood boiled.

"You fucked me without a condom!" I shot back. He raked his hands through his hair and looked like he was doing everything in his power to not blow his brains out.

"Why didn't you get the morning after pill?!"

"I did you jackass but its not a foolproof plan!"

My fists clenched as I watched him disappear into the closet and reemerge dressed in dark pants and a different tshirt and I followed him as he stormed out to the great room, but halted when I saw him pulling his boots on as he shook his head. I didn't know if it was from disbelief or disgust, and it became hard to breathe as I watched him pull a jacket on and grab his wallet and metro card off the kitchen island. I bounded up to him.

"Where are you going?!" I touched his arm but he instantly ripped away from me as though I were scalding hot and he glared at me.

"I never wanted this. I don't want this and you knew that. I've never asked you for anything. I never ask you for a single fucking thing, this was the ONE THING I asked you to make sure never became an issue and you couldn't even do that!"

Tears brimmed in my eyes and his feral glare began to swim into obscurity before me.

"Ed please..."

"Don't you dare!" He roared. "Don't you dare turn on the tears and make me feel bad Winry! I'm allowed to be fucking pissed about this!"

"You're not allowed to act like it's all my fault!" I wailed. I'd never been more angry at him in my life. I hated that I was someone who cried out of anger instead of lashing out or being aggressive like stronger women. I wished I was more like Riza, who could send Ed away with his tail between his legs with one fierce look. His brow furrowed and I could see the muscles working in his clenched jaw. He finally turned and shoved the stairwell door open, and without so much as a backward glance at me he said,

"Don't follow me."

I awoke in the middle of the night to the elevator announcing itself followed by heavy, uneven footfalls on the wooden floors. His steps were sloppy, and I could only assume that meant he'd been drinking. I scowled and wrapped my arms tighter around my pillow, curling myself further under the covers. The angry tears I'd sniffled here and there throughout the day gave way to full, unladylike sobs of rage when I finally crawled into bed at 2:30am feeling exhausted and pathetic for waiting all day and night for him. It was nearly 5 now, and fury still burned in my chest as I listened to him drop his boots and jacket to the floor before ridding himself of his shirt and pants. I shut my eyes again and pretended to be asleep as the mattress dipped from the added weight; I was too angry to talk. I felt him crawl up to his pillow and his usual crisp, earthy smell that I loved so much was tarnished by the hoppy scent of beer, which I loathed. He lied there for a moment, and I listened to his breathing even out. I thought for sure he'd fallen asleep, but was taken by surprise when I felt his fingers brush the hair away from my face. He sighed, and I felt warm lips press themselves to my cheek.

My eyes fluttered open the next day to the sight of him passed out next to me in bed with deep shadows under his eyes and his skin shiny from sweating out the alcohol. I slipped out from under the sheets and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee and found flowers on the kitchen island. A large bouquet of pink roses, bound in a simple wrap-around of twine and accented by intermittent sprays of delicate baby's breath. My heart squeezed as I picked them up and gently rubbed a feather-soft petal between my fingers. They smelled even better than they looked. I wasn't panicked that he would leave me forever; I knew Ed well enough to know he wouldn't just cut and run, but I still had every right to be hurt by his reaction. It wasn't like I wanted this to happen either, I was just glad that it seemed he wanted to make it right. I released the roses from their binding and snipped the ends with scissors before finding a vase and submerging them in tepid water. I set them back on the island and arranged them carefully, admiring the gradient pink that bled from a saturated fuchsia at the base of each half-bloomed bud to light baby pink at the tips. Where the hell did he find such beauty in Manhattan at 4am?

As I brewed myself some decaf and rubbed the sleep from my eyes I placed on hand on my stomach and weighed the options. Before this I had been very much afraid of motherhood for many reasons, and I'd always considered myself a pro-choice individual simply from a women's rights standpoint. I'd spent my entire life hearing doctors tell me what I can and can't do with my body, I wasn't going to allow them to make this decision for me too. I'd always told myself that if I ever got pregnant before I was ready that I wouldn't keep it. But when I fell in love with Edward, a new voice arose in the back of my mind. A quiet but unwavering one that when presented with the thought of not keeping an unborn child, would pipe up and say 'this time is different.' I knew wholeheartedly, without a shadow of hesitation, that I could never abort this child for one very big reason: It was Edward's. This child was something Ed and I created together. I could never throw that away, no matter how afraid of parenthood either of us might be. That realization squeezed my heart horribly with fear of the unknown. Could Edward get on board with being a father? I wouldn't force him to be in the child's life if he didn't want to be, but I knew I was facing the possibility that if Edward truly didn't want this, our relationship would be over. I would leave and be a mother to our child on my own if I had to, because even though parenthood terrified me, it hit me in that moment that I wanted to have Edward's children. It was barely a blip on the radar, and I already loved the damn thing because I loved Ed so much. I stirred creamer into my coffee and held it under my nose to breathe in the wonderful aroma, only to feel my stomach flip again and I set the mug down on the counter hard and pulled my hair back to vomit in the sink. It was time to switch to tea.

A couple hours passed during which I'd showered and dressed and called the Central Hospital to make an appointment since I had yet to see the doctor. I decided to visit the drugstore down the street and picked up some prenatal vitamins to get myself started until I could see my doctors a few days later. I told the secretary it was just for a checkup; I knew if I mentioned pregnancy they would drop everything and rush me to the front of the line and I didn't want special treatment over their other patients. I also didn't want them telling Roy, whom they were obligated to send all test results to seeing how he was in charge of my involvement with Central's medical science team. I would have to convince them to conveniently leave my pregnancy out of the paperwork so that Edward and I could tell people ourselves, that is, if Edward was on board with me keeping it.

The elevator doors opened and I entered our home again to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and stopped in my tracks. Edward sat at the kitchen island with his iPad and a steaming mug halfway to his mouth when he saw me falter. I put my hand on my stomach and breathed slowly, waiting for the nausea to pass as he paused and watched me carefully.

"Do you need help?" He asked. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed in again before saying,

"It's the coffee smell. Can we open a window?" Edward promptly set his mug down and crossed the room to take my hand and lead me to the sofa before opening the sliding glass door that lead to the small balcony. My head instantly cleared as cool spring air washed over my skin. I heard him pour his coffee down the sink and I felt a little guilty before remembering that I was supposed to be mad at him as he came over and sat on the coffee table in front of me with his elbows on his knees and mismatched fingers steepled in front of his mouth. I could see the wheels turning in his head like a poker player considering his next move.

"I'm sorry for yesterday. I was in shock. I still am." He said carefully. "How far along are you?"

"I don't know for sure, I haven't been to the doctor yet."

"Why not?" He asked, sitting up in alarm.

"I wanted to wait for you."

He softened fractionally at this, realizing it made sense. He drummed his fingers together as he thought, flesh and steel meeting each other in synchronized timing while his unseeing eyes scanned the floor before looking back at me.

"I'm not ready for this." He stated gravely. The finality of his tone slammed into me hard and I feared the worst, only I wasn't sure what the worst thing would actually be: him asking me to abort or him leaving me to raise a child alone.

"I'm not either." I said with shaky words. "But… I'm going to do it anyway." I found a stronger voice and looked back at him to continue, "I know we didn't plan for this, and I'm not going to force you into it if you truly can't do it. I understand why you wouldn't want to have a child, but I… I just can't get rid of it. It's yours. It's a part of you. Please don't ask me to—"

His hand on mine stopped me.

"Winry I would never ask you to do that for me. It's not my choice it's yours." Wide, golden eyes swallowed me with their beauty as I looked back at him, suddenly feeling even more hopeless.

"But you don't want this." I said as I swallowed hard and pushed my words out through a tightening throat. "I can't force you… I… I have to leave. I'll move out. You don't have to be a part of this, I swear I won't be mad. I'll be fine, really."

Ed shot me an incredulous look.

"Are you crazy? You think I'd just leave you?" He asked, moving to take my hands in his as he settled next to me on the sofa. "I'm freaking out about this, but I'm not gonna abandon you and I'm not gonna force you into anything. This is your decision Winry, frankly I don't care. The only thing I know for sure is that I want you in my life."

His words sat stale on my mind. It definitely wasn't the happy tearful 'we're having a baby' moment everyone pictured for themselves. I wasn't expecting him to magically wake up that morning and be excited about it all of a sudden, but I guess I'd been hoping for a better reaction than 'I don't care'. It left me in an awful spot of knowing that he was only doing this for me. He wasn't even doing it for the sake of the baby. It was all for me. Fuck. This man, who made it extremely clear to me that he never wanted children, was suddenly forcing himself to get on board with raising one because it would mean we could stay together. What the hell would happen when I started gaining weight? What about the mood swings? What about when I'd start waking up at crazy hours of the night and asking him to go out and get me weird shit like pork rinds and cheese whiz? Its easier for soon-to-be fathers to be accepting of those things because hey, their baby is on the way and they're excited about it.

Ed wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't care about a baby, he only cared about me. But what would happen after the baby is born and we're up all night with feedings and the kid is screaming its head off and we're not getting any sleep? He's gonna start caring then. What about when the baby takes up all our spare time and we can't go out and be social with our friends like we usually do? He'll start caring. And sex? Might as well kiss that goodbye because we're gonna be so exhausted and so busy all the time between work and the baby, I won't be thinking about so much as a hand-job. Ed will absolutely care about having a kid when all the cushy comfortable things he loves go flying out the window. I feared he would not only grow to resent me for keeping the baby, but he would grow to resent the child itself. What kind of home was I preparing this child for? A home where one parent couldn't care if it were here or gone? A home with a parent with an incredibly dangerous job and mental health issues who didn't adjust to change very well? Was I really so self-indulgent to bring a child into this simply because it's Edwards? Edward didn't even want it.

I felt a headache coming on and I became misty eyed as I put my hand on my stomach again. I hated this. I hated how our already complicated life had found a way to become even more complicated. We were supposed to be planning a wedding and a honeymoon. I thought the following months would be filled with me visiting florists and trying on wedding gowns, not shopping for strollers and putting together cribs. He must've noticed my furrowed brow or maybe it was the way my eyes were fixed on the floor but cool steel fingertips touched my cheek coaxing me to look back at him.

"I love you. That hasn't changed." He implored as he gave my hand a squeeze. "What do you want to do about this?"

His golden eyes were alert as always but I could tell he was at ease, so different from the day before and I wondered what he had done or who he had talked to that got him to this state.

"I can think of a million reasons why I shouldn't, but I'd like to keep it. It's ours. We made this together. I want us to be a family, but only if you're on board. Do you want to do this with me?"

"I'll be honest, it's not ideal. But I love you, and I know I would love our kid. That's what scares me so much. I have a hard enough time keeping you safe, how the hell do we live this life with a baby?" He asked with a wary look. I know he was thinking about Nina, and how even a decade later he still felt her death was a result of his incompetence. I brushed a strand of hair from his eyes not really knowing what to say.

"There's no way to know. There's never a good time to have a kid, we'll just have to take it one day at a time and make it up as we go along. But like I said, I'm not forcing you into this."

"I'm not going to just let you raise our kid alone. That's ridiculous." He said before pulling me into a hug. "We're in this together."

It was music to my ears as I returned his embrace, my frightened heart starting to bloom knowing that we could be a family, thinking about how one day soon these wooden floors would have the pitter-patter of little footsteps running up and down the hall.

A/N: The intention of this short story is not to make any political statements, nor to push any opinions of my own onto others, I simply wanted to create a plot line for the Perfect Blood AU showing conflict that isn't a direct result of Ed's baggage. Its my goal to churn out original material that we haven't seen a million times over, and I intend to do that here. The next chapter is completed and will be uploaded in a few days. As always, thank you for reading and reviewing, and for sticking it out through the dry spell. Your patience will be rewarded with more than just this story, because I've been writing a lot since i've been away.