Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, but I do own three mangas, one novel, and- as of today- a complete guide.
Author's Note:
This is something that I typed up today. I don't know if the quality is that great when it goes near the end, and if that's truw then say so and I'll attempt to revise it. This is sort of to take a break from my other two stories, which I haven't been able to work on as much because of summer school. :(
Enjoy!
If there was anything that Edward Elric did that could be referred to as a stress reliever, it was his morning walks.
There were mornings when he would wake up sore and stiff from lying on top of his metal arm for too long. On those mornings he would sleepily get up, stretch, pace around the room, and then fall back on the bed to catch a few more winks of sleep.
There were mornings when he would be forced awake by the numbing chill his limbs had absorbed throughout the night. On those mornings he would throw some of the covers back over himself and scoot across the bed to snuggle close with his wife, who was able to unconsciously fill him inside and out with a warmth that not even ten cups of piping hot coffee could surpass.
And then there were mornings when his legs would wake him up with the itch and need to just get up and go. It was on those mornings that he would reluctantly remove himself from the warmth his wife provided and, grabbing a jacket and pair of shoes, step out into the misty air. Hence, the initiation of his morning walks.
He didn't mind, of course. He enjoyed the way his shoes squeaked in the dewy grass of their home, or the soft thuds they made in the moist dirt on the road through the town. He enjoyed how his breath fogged and puffed in the cold air as he took deep breaths and relaxed.
And always, after every morning walk that he undertook, his wife would have breakfast waiting for him fresh from the stove. His wife's cooking was always enough to bring a smile to his face, especially in this time of long-awaited peace.
Which is why the first time was probably after one such morning walk. Instead of a warm breakfast, there was...nothing.
Puzzled, he made his way to their bedroom and found Winry still asleep. He gently nudged her shoulder.
"Winry?"
She sleepily opened her eyes halfway. "...Hmm? What is it, Edward?"
He cocked his head to the side, still puzzled. "Why aren't you awake yet? You usually are after I go out to walk."
"Oh...you went on one of your walks again?" She yawned, then turned away from him. "I'm...sorry...I'm just very tired right now..."
Something in his brain ticked at that, but he shrugged it off.
The second time was probably when he started competing with her for food at dinnertime.
"Hey Win...where are the rest of the mashed potatoes?" Edward said, peering in the now-empty bowl.
"I ate them. Can you hand me that bowl of stew?" She answered, her fork still in her mouth and her hand held out over the plate. It was picked clean.
He took the bowl of stew and held it close to his chest as if protecting it. "You already ate out most of the salad, ham, and now the mashed potatoes!" He moved the bowl even farther from her reach. "No way am I going to let you eat out the stew! You know how much I like it!"
Her glare was sharp as she stood up. "You've been hogging that bowl all night, alchemy freak!"
He stood up too. "What was that, you automail freak! You've been hogging the rest of the food! I don't think I even got a taste of that ham!"
"Who cares! Just give me that bowl!" She darted around the table and grabbed for it, but he took a few steps backwards and snarled.
"Why you-"
He stopped short at the glint of metal in her hand.
"Edward!"
He made a run for it, the bowl of stew still clutched in his grasp.
The third time was definitely when one night he was awakened by the sound of vomiting.
"...Huh?"
Still half-asleep, he sat up and rubbed his eyes with one hand, the other patting the spot on the bed next to him.
His eyes widened, and he turned to where his hand was.
Nothing.
"...Winry?"
"Yes, E-" More puking sounds.
Not wasting a second more, he dashed for the bathroom. He was more than surprised to see Winry huddled over the toilet with gray-greenish substances pouring out of her mouth. He ran to her side.
"Winry! What happened?! Are you okay? Was it something you ate? Are you fee-"
"I'm fine, Ed." She grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped her mouth.
However, it took more than that to get him to stop worrying. "Are you sure? You should probably call a doctor."
"No, no, it's okay. It was probably something I ate, that's all."
"Well I think that you should still-"
"I'm fine, Ed. I promise." She then smiled at him before heading back to bed.
Somehow he didn't believe it.
The fourth time was at that encounter during one of his morning walks through town.
"Hey Edward!"
Turning around, he saw one of his neighbors cheerfully waving at him and beckoning him over to where she stood.
"I was hoping I might catch you before you leave for work again," she gushed as he approached her. "I want to know if you could give your wife this."
She bent over and hoisted up a basket chock full of fruit.
Edward's face was skeptical as he accepted the gift. "Uh...thanks?"
"It's for her health, you know. I heard about her weekly visits to the doctor and thought that-"
He nearly dropped the basket. "WHAT?"
His neighbor stepped back with an uneasy smile on her face. "...Yes, Winry has been going to the doctor every week for the past month, hasn't she...?"
"She hasn't told me about this," he ground out. His metal hand clenched the straw handle of the basket with an intensity that threatened to rip the fibers apart.
"Oh...I see..."
He gritted his teeth. By now he was certain that something was wrong.
"Oh, I almost forgot! Give her this for breakfast today. We both know how much she loves apple pie!" His neighbor quipped as she handed him a covered tin. He snatched it from her and headed back home.
The fifth- and last- time was when she turned down that morning's breakfast.
"Winry!" Edward shouted. He stormed in the house and saw her sitting quietly in the kitchen. He put the apple pie in front of her.
"The neighbor wanted me to give you that for breakfast." He had a frown on his face.
Winry shook her head and pushed away the pie. "No...no thanks. I don't want apple pie."
That did it.
No matter when or where, Winry never, ever, avoided apple pie.
He slammed the basket down and looked her straight in the eye, somehow managing to keep her from avoiding his gaze.
"The neighbor had also told me to give you these-" he gestured towards the fruits, "because of your weekly visits to the doctor. Is there something that you're not telling me, Winry?"
She flinched at his harsh tone, and turned her face away. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Edward bit his tongue. "Winry, if you don't tell me what's wrong with you I'll-"
"You'll what, alchemy freak!" She stood up with her hands curled into fists.
"I'll make you tell me, that's what!" he shouted back, then waited for the trademark wrench to make its entrance.
Strangely, though, Winry couldn't seem to find it. Her hands dug into her pockets, but he could tell by her wide eyes that- for once- it was missing.
She was not deterred, however. "I told you, I'm perfectly fine!"
"This is no time for you to play games, automail freak! Tell me what's wrong!"
"I'm not playing games, alchemy freak!"
"Don't give me that crap!" By now they were yelling in each other's faces.
"You want to know what's wrong?"
"What then!"
"I'm pregnant!"
It was as if time had stopped. His brain instantly shut down and he stood there, his mouth hanging open in complete and utter shock.
He was barely able to register Winry saying his name. "Ed..."
He stumbled back a few steps, his hand to his forehead.
Think. He needed to think.
Without a word, he turned and walked back out the door.
He needed to make a phone call.
He drummed his metal fingers against the wall as he waited at the Resembool Train Station phone booth, the phone held against his ear. His pulse was racing and everything seemed louder than usual; the birds on the roof, the crickets in the grass, the-
"Hello?"
"Al..."
"Brother, what's wrong? You sound like-"
"Winry...Winry is..."
"What happened to Winry?!" Alphonse now sounded panicked.
"Winry's pregnant."
There. He said it.
"WINRY'S WHAT?"
He'd been afraid of that.
"She's...pregnant."
"PREGNANT?"
"Yeah..."
There was silence, save for a slight mumbling on the other end.
"...And you called me because you're feeling insecure about the whole thing, aren't you?"
Edward took a deep breath and leaned against the phone booth. He was always grateful for Alphonse's sense of perception.
"...What if I'm not a good father?"
That had always been one of his greatest fears- what if he ended up just like that...that bastard? What if his kid grew up hating him as much as he hated that guy?
"Brother, of course you'll be a good father. I bet Winry would say the same if you asked her too."
"But what if I turn out...like him?"
"You won't, Brother. Because Winry and I wouldn't let you," Alphonse replied with all seriousness in his tone. Then there were some flustered shouts and...giggles? on the other end.
"Al...?"
"I have to go, Brother. Work here is getting hectic as usual."
Edward smiled into the receiver.
"Okay. Thanks, Al."
He hung up and made his way back home.
The house seemed empty when he came back. But when he made his way towards the living room and felt two warm arms wrap around him from behind, he knew that that was not the case.
No one said anything for a while.
"I'm sorry...I didn't tell you..." Winry half-whispered, her breath warming his back. He swallowed once, and his throat moved.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was afraid," she said.
"Of what? Me?" Just the thought of that made Edward's heart sink and tremble.
"No...not really. It's just...what if I'm not a good mother?" Her voice quivered and Edward started.
"Winry." He turned around to face her, his hands gripping at her elbows. "Of course you'll be a good mother." He lifted her chin and saw the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Don't ever doubt that. Ever."
She smiled then, and his heart lifted.
He no longer worried now that he knew that this feeling of insecurity was mutual. Together, they would tear down each other's doubts.
Together.