He came on a cloudy day.

The sky was a sheet of white above the boomtown of Rush Valley, with temperatures slightly below sixty degrees; a very rare occurrence indeed. Those who were too used to the heat were actually wearing jackets, but there was one wearing mittens and a scarf.

He wore the worn, blue uniform of the military underneath a black trench coat that was clearly far too big for him. He took slow but confident steps, which strangely contradicted his face, void of expression, eyes focusing straight ahead. What made people stare was not the fact that he was 'underdressed', or because of his military stature, but because of his arms.

His left arm was swinging slightly as he walked, his fist clenched in determination. Meanwhile, his right arm hung strangely limp and lifeless, the fingers not moving and the arm not swinging alongside his gait. There was also a slight limp when he put weight on his left leg. That was when many people realized it.

He had automail. Broken automail.

The wind chimes gently hit the door and the usual tender tingle followed, alerting Winry Rockbell to hurry to the front of her shop in order to greet the next customer. She left the back room, which was her workshop, and raised a curious eyebrow. Her next customer wasn't due till five, and it was only three in the afternoon. Winry placed her half-eaten sandwich back onto the crumb-filled plate and brushed off her hands. After passing the shelves of tools and parts she needed and used, she began speaking through the stacks,

"Um, hang on a sec I'll be right with you!" She yelled, still in slight disarray from the surprise. Then she remembered something important...now, what was it again? Oh yes. Manners. "Please just wait a moment!"

She ran past the waiting room, past the surgery room, past the resting area, and finally, she was facing the front door, which was finally slammed shut.

It was then she stopped running with a dramatic skid. Her mouth dropped and her eyes widened. Very slowly--very, very slowly--she stuttered,

"I--is that--y--you, Ed?"

There was no doubt about it once his infamous lopsided grin appeared upon his face. It was him, in the flesh (and automail), dressed in that uniform. It suddenly occurred to Winry that Ed never wore a military uniform (he claimed they didn't have any more and didn't need to wear it, although Winry knew that they simply didn't have his size).

Of course being the blunt and curious type, Winry pointed, rather rudely, to his attire.

"Y--you--those--!"

"What?" Ed broke her speech, then realized as he looked down and opened his coat somewhat, speaking sheepishly, "Oh, yeah...you noticed..." a chuckle came after his words, a rather nervous chuckle.

His hair had gotten longer, Winry noted. He shoulders had also gotten broader, his body especially muscular, and there was a scar right along his jaw...

"Is it over?" she blurted out.

"Huh?" Ed raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing what she was talking about; or he was just slow.

"The war," Winry spoke casually, as if nothing had happened in the past three years, "Is it over?"

Ed's eyebrow did not fall, but he visibly flinched, as if something bit him.

"Oh..." Winry finally realized, "...news here travels slowly...us being in the countryside and all…so...I didn't know you were at war till about--a year and a half into it." she spoke quietly this time, as if treading on thin ice.

And she was.

His eyebrow fell, and Ed's curious expression changed into a sad, distant one, "Yeah. It's over."

There was an awkward silence. Surprisingly, it was Edward who broke it,

"Uh...so...yeah...I need you to fix my automail, Winry."

"I see." Winry nodded carefully, as if the slightest statement or twitch, even, would make Ed withdraw into that shell he'd built.

It was then she noticed someone was missing,

"Where's Al?"

Instead of flinching, Edward relaxed and actually smiled, "He's actually in Central helping everybody...you know, rebuild."

"Oh..." Winry nodded again, "...Miss Riza told me that--!"

"--yeah," Edward finished for her, "--he's back to normal."

Another awkward silence.

To be honest, Winry was shocked she wasn't beating poor Edward to a pulp with her wrench. She was angry--for these past three years she was angry that Ed didn't even think of telling her where he went...when Al had gotten his body back, for goodness sake. Winry had always imagined that occasion to be something all three of them would celebrate. They would always come home and tell her the news in person, and they would eat the birthday cakes that Al had missed. All eight of them. Then they would all keel over from too much cake. Really, you didn't always get what you wanted. Sadly, Winry knew that fact all too well.

Instead of yelling, though, she smiled,

"I'm happy Al's back to normal. Are you...doing okay?" She hesitated now. She felt like she was walking on eggshells. Honestly, the experience wasn't new; she'd been doing this with Ed for years.

He nodded almost immediately, trying to convince her--and himself as well,

"Oh, yeah," he shrugged his good shoulder, "I'm perfect. Never been better." he grinned again, then changed the subject,

"When Garfiel told me you opened up your own shop, I honestly wasn't all that surprised. You are a great mechanic after all. So how many customers do you get in a day, huh?"

Winry blushed at the rarely given compliment, "Thanks...uh...well usually, I'm booked for months--but this is one of my rare quiet days. You came at a good time, Ed. My next customer doesn't come till five."

"Great, then!" Ed's grin widened, "You can start as soon as possible right? I hate leaving Al all by himself."

There was an unusual pang of jealousy in Winry, but she shrugged it off,

"Uh, sure! Just follow me, and I'll inspect your damages."

"I can't...believe this!!"

Winry gaped at the very limbs she'd built especially for Ed, now practically scrap metal. Only two fingers left on his right arm, dented, wires protruding, some even ripped in half. The socket was just as busted, thus explaining Ed's sudden paralysis on his arm.

His leg was just as bad, if not worse. Absolutely no toes, the leg was about five inches too short for him, no wires connecting to his thigh, and his knee was almost gone.

"I told you it was bad," Ed grinned sheepishly, holding up his left hand to ward her off, "But military wouldn't let me come here soon enough. You know, Drachman soldiers could've followed me and--!"

"How can you speak so casually about something so precious?!" Winry yelled, "I can't believe this, Ed! My God!! Do you know how much surgery you're gonna have to go through again?!"

He visibly gulped, "No..." he spoke timidly.

"Well your sockets are busted so badly I may have to insert new ones, not to mention that I have to check if there are any bonessticking out! I also have to build your arm and leg from scratch!! Surgery, plus all of that and my other appointments--Ed, you're gonna be here for a while!!"

"What?!" Ed blanched, "B--but what about Al--?!"

"Al will understand; I know that for a fact!" Winry exclaimed, "But Ed, who treated your automail all this time?!"

There was a long pause here. Then, he spoke,

"Heh, heh," Ed was sheepish again, "Yeah...uh...well, we were always fighting so--!"

No. Freaking. Way.

Winry was done being nice. Taking her wrench from her pocket, she flung it with all her power at his head.

"OW!" he yelped, flying backwards until his rear hit the floor. He held his head and looked up at Winry, his trademark temper finally flaring up,

"Hey! What the hell was that for?!"

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU'VE GONE BY FIGHTING IN WAR--UNTREATED?!" Winry didn't know she was crying until her screaming voice cracked, "DO YOU KNOW YOU COULD HAVE DIED WITH ALL OF THIS DAMAGE?! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU, ED!!"

"It's not my fault, you know!" Ed hollered back, still rubbing his sore head, "I didn't ask to be sent to the front line!"

She stopped, realizing he was right. Ed didn't have a choice when military ordered him up front. If there was anyone to blame here, it was the military itself.

She sighed, putting her wrench away and offering a hand,

"Fine. I'm sorry."

He looked at her hand suspiciously, then took it, rising, "Sure...whatever," he replied, still a bit upset.

She studied his automail again while speaking,

"I have a guest room upstairs, so you can stay here for a while. Your surgery, plus everything else...it may take me a week to just start because of all the patients I have booked, and then another month and a half for you to heal--!"

"--Half a month." Ed already set a determined standard.

"That's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible for me. Besides, I've already went through it, so this time it won't be as difficult. Right?"

She sighed, "I guess. It depends on the patient."

Yet another awkward silence.

Then, Winry spoke hesitantly,

"How...how bad was it?"

"What?" Ed looked suspicious.

"The war. You can't hide it, Edward. How...how bad was it?"

"That's none of your business, Winry," Ed suddenly snapped, his golden eyes hardening to polished brass.

Winry was about to retort, to say it was her business, but Ed had already gone.

When Winry's customers filed in for the rest of the week, they often gave suspicious glares to the young man standing behind her, clad in just blue boxers, busted automail out and exposed, his good hand feeding an apple to his mouth. On a good day, Ed would stare back or ignore them. On bad days (which seemed to be every day), he would bluntly ask straightforward,

"Do you have a problem? Because you're staring at me with the most dumbass expression on your face."

It would usually start an argument, or a 'you'd-better-take-care-of-your-automail-because-Miss-Winry-is-a-phenomenal-engineer-and-you-shouldn't-take-her-for-granted' speech, which led to a bigger screaming match. Winry would often finish the work day with migraines from the yelling and thinking while she fixed things.

But it was something she was quickly growing used to. She had to admit, it was actually pretty nice having Edward around (even though he was annoying and was mostly unappreciative of her work), but sooner or later she would have to operate on him. Ed wasn't the type to just wait for everyone else. He moved on his own, with a set pace, whether it be too fast or too slow, Ed was still Ed: always on the move.

By the fourth week, surgery was done and Winry was three-quarters way through building Ed's automail while he rested up. There was the occasional bleeding, the occasional fever, but overall he was doing pretty well. His assumption was correct.

Winry was about to complete her work on his automail when she'd heard coughing in the resting area. Winry immediately grew alarmed, and left her work almost instantly and raced to the room in which Edward was recovering in.

She stopped once seeing the limp young man, his good hand clutching the bed sheets. His knuckles were so white many would think it was stone instead of real flesh. Winry moved to comfort him, ask what was wrong, but it dawned on her that he was asleep. His eyes were tightly closed and sweat beaded his forehead. She remained frozen as he moaned in pain.

"Run..." his voice managed to speak, "...don't...let them see you..."

What in the world was he talking about? Winry wondered, baffled. She finally reached forward, tapping his shoulder.

With the simplest tap Edward leapt out of his sleep, his eyes snapping open and a yelp escaping his mouth. Wildly, he looked around, not aware of where he was as he struggled to regain his breath--as if he'd been running himself.

He choked out while reaching for a nonexistent gun on his belt, "General, don't make me do it!!"

When Winry cleared her throat, however, he was back in Rush Valley. Slowly, he began to focus, and he became aware of his true surroundings.

His eyes shot towards her, "What?" he snapped defensively.

"You...you were dreaming," Winry spoke slowly, a bit timidly; "You were saying something about running and not letting anyone see you."

She instantly knew she'd said too much when Edward looked away with that damn distant expression on his face. Or, as Winry liked to call it, the 'holy-crap-let's-not-tell-Winry' look.

This time, however, she wasn't leaving it alone,

"What did you dream about?"

Silence. Ed's gaze went to the window. Yet another cloudy day. Winry sighed, exhausted from caring for patients and also from helping Ed.

"Ed, I really don't feel like arguing," she snapped, "Why won't you just tell me?"

"Well, if you don't feel like arguing, then don't talk at all," Ed retorted, still staring at the window. He moved to cross his arms to emphasize his point, but realized he only had one. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

"You didn't answer my question," Winry was trying to be patient. She really was. But with Ed, your patience always slipped away in a matter of seconds.

"Hmm," Ed went into fake thought, and thenturned back to her, eyes blazing, "Maybe because I don't want to tell you?"

Screw patience.

"You never tell me anything, no matter how nicely I ask!!" Winry exploded viciously, fists clenching so she wouldn't have to fling her wrench at the inconsiderate jerk, "Honestly, Ed, are we even friends anymore?! Because it sure doesn't seem like it!!"

Her breath caught. Where did all of that come from?

Ed looked just as surprised as Winry did, so retorting came a bit slowly this time,

"Well...uh..." he blinked, baffled, "Um, Winry, of course we're still friends--uh--!"

The awkward reassurance melted away, and Ed's temper returned,

"Ah--you know what?! Real friends mind their own business!!"

"Real friends would like to know how their friend is doing!"

"Real friends leave their friend alone when they don't feel like talking!!"

"Real friends tell their friend when they go to war!!"

Ed was silenced. He stared at her through blazing golden eyes as he gritted his teeth. Through his teeth, he spoke, his lips barely moving,

"That's none of your damn business, Winry."

Winry was already gone now. Instead, an angrier, more vicious side of her was out this time,

"I have tended to you for four weeks and this is how you treat me?! You jerk! You know what, you'd be so good in a war, because you kill people with your big mouth! Or maybe--maybe you used your stupid alchemy to kill all those Drachman soldiers! Hmm?! AM I RIGHT?!"

Ed's eyes widened. Winry should've stopped there, but she didn't. Like an idiot, she babbled on,

"So how many did you kill with your own bare hands, Ed?! One? Three? A dozen? Maybe a hundred? OR KNOWING YOU, IT WAS PROBABLY THOUSANDS OF THOSE SOLDIERS!! RIGHT?!"

Winry had finally caught up with herself. And she was already aware of the bitter cruelty in the words she'd spoken. She wanted desperately to apologize, but it was already too late. She was ready for a hell of a backlash from Ed, because she deserved it.

Two seconds passed. Ten. A minute.

Ed only stared at her with the bitterest hatred in his eyes; somethingWinry had never seen before. Tears brimmed in her eyes and blurred her vision. She moved to speak, but Ed spoke in a cold and steely voice,

"Get out."

She flinched. This gave Ed and opportunity to lash back,

"I killed so many men. I even killed women and children," he spat, his voice still in a deadly flat tone.

Winry bit her lower lip, and tried to speak again, but Edward finished off his retort,

"Hell...I even had to kill two doctors."

That got her, and Ed knew it. But he didn't care. He only watched her with rage and hatred.

Winry flinched when the last two words escaped his mouth. Her eyes widened in horror, and her mind flashed to her own parents. To think...those two probably had a family...

Winry shook her head, and her own hatred took over as she spoke,

"Edward Elric...you have no heart."

"I've lived without one for a long time," he snapped back.

The vicious battle became a staring contest, to see who would back down first.

It was Winry this time around, who turned her back and stomped off, seething the entire way back to her workshop.

Insertion was done quietly, except for Ed's two yelps of pain when both arm and leg were inserted. No words were exchanged before the insertion, nor were there any words exchanged afterwards. The only sound that camewas the slam of the front door and the loud chiming that followed suit. Winry briefly noticed Ed still had his belongings in his room, so apparently he was going to take a walk instead of leaving.

By the first hour Winry had made herself lunch, and ate it without a sound.

By the third hour she tended to five patients.

By the fifth hour, the sun had set and Winry was still tinkering with spare parts.

And by the seventh hour, she'd actually begun to get worried.

Ed was never gone for so long. Not unless he let her know--and he did that no matter how mad he was.

Winry took one more bite out of the dumpling one of her customers had given her for dinner, and she reached for her jacket and headed outside, locking the door behind her and posted a 'back in five minutes' sign in front.

The town was almost empty. It was either everyone was going home, closing, or heading to the pubs for the 'happy hour'. Winry concluded it wouldn't be difficult looking for Ed.

She began her trek, down the main streets, down alleyways, even in the outskirts. She'd even checked the train station to make sure Ed didn't go out of town. The token clerk swore he didn't. She'd thanked him and returned to the town.

By this time, it was already late into the night. Winry sighed and stopped in the town square, a wide open space bigger than any other street.

She kicked the dirt underneath her feet and replayed every moment in her head. How could she have been so heartless? And Ed...did he really kill two doctors...?

"Hello there, pretty lady."

Winry dramatically rolled her eyes and whirled around to see a local drunk behind her, slurring in his speech and reaching out to her with a free hand. Winry sighed and took out the wrench she carried everywhere, regardless of location.

"Sorry," she mumbled. He was one of her customers, after all. And with that, she violently threw the tool to his head, rendering him unconscious.

Next to his body, Winry picked up her wrench, "Idiot. I told him not to drink so much..."

"...Winry?"

For the second time, Winry turned around to see none other than Ed, hands lazily stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders up to his ears.

"...the hell are you doing out here?" he stopped in front of her, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Looking for you, dimwit," Winry placed both hands on her hips. It was then Ed's questioning gaze went to the unconscious man on the floor.

Winry gave a fleeting glance to the man and her gaze was on Ed in mere seconds,

"Town drunk," she explained.

"Un." Ed mumbled, nodding.

There was an awkward silence. Winry swallowed nervously, and Ed noticeably hunched in deeper than usual.

"So..." Winry began.

"Hmm?" Ed lazily met her gaze.

"So...what were you doing out here for so long?"

He shrugged casually, "Walking on my own. Thinking--moving forward." he finished.

"More like walking around town in circles." Winry lightly joked.

"So…I mean…about our last fight, I--!"

Another pause. Winry shuffled her feet again while Ed paid close attention to the dirt.

He turned suddenly, and began walking away from her. Or so she thought.

After about ten paces, he stopped, turning his head and saying casually,

"You coming or what?"

Winry was confused.

He rolled his eyes and spoke bluntly, "Walk with me."

"Oh..." she blinked, then ran to catch up.

It was their unspoken apology.

And so they walked, and they walked from dusk till dawn, moving forward together.

And I am done. Many, many thanks to my beta reader, who made excellent suggestions on how this would work, blaznXrapture (Green Tea pretty soon, if not already).