Title: Body Breakdown
Pairings: None. This is Parental!RoyEd and Sisterly!WinryEd.
Summary: Winry realizes that she can no longer help Edward who is spiraling downwards after Al's death. So she contacts someone who can supervise him but not give into his emotions and let Ed slip through the cracks. Roy. Can he help at all or is Edward hopeless? No pairings.
Warning: Self-injury
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist.
This chapter is mostly Winry and Edward. Next chapter, I promise you, will be Ed and Roy. That is what this story is based on after all but I can't leave Winry out!
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Chapter One: Winry's Decision
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In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on - Robert Frost
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There is only so much that the human mind can tolerate. There is a line between madness and sanity that many do not cross. Edward had never looked back ever since the day that he and his brother had burned their old home down, walking away with only memories to guide them. The search for the Philosopher's Stone was grueling and Edward always faced it with a brave mask to try and terrorize his enemies into believing that he was the strong, raucous alchemist most thought him to be.
In actuality Edward Elric was a fragile, tortured teenager who was a hair away from crossing the line between lucidity and insanity.
When he thought that he could have normality, have a chance to be genuinely happy with his younger brother in tow, was not cracked but shattered. It fell apart in the cruelest way.
"RIP, Alphonse Elric. RIP, Alphonse Elric . . ."
No matter how many times that mantra was spoken Edward did not want to believe it. His subconscious wanted him to remain blind to the fact that his brother was not a soul, or person, any longer and he resorted to withdrawing from everyone he had ever known into a cramped apartment.
The floor was littered with debris from him punching the walls, leaving diversified holes that varied from size on how upset he was at the moment. There were books flung across the room and the only accessory was a single couch to the far left of the living room where he slept. Edward was not managing daily tasks well as though he were too much of a weight to carry to the kitchen and back to get food. Even when Ed did summon up the strength and will to go take a shower he left it either so cold that he shivered or so hot that the touch of the water made him flinch. That was only the beginning of Edward's abuse he perpetrated on himself day after day.
There appeared to be no savior that could touch his depression. Monthly Winry would come by bringing him delicious food, replacing the old comestibles that were defiled with flecks of mold all over them, and tried to talk Edward into getting help. This either ended up with him dismissing her, or when she really pushed it, his shouting at her about how she did not understand. Of course she did, because she missed Alphonse too, but Winry exclaimed she refused to see another one of her best friend's die, especially when he is doing it right in front of her.
Another month passed and Winry was reluctant to return. Edward was on the brink of self-destruction and there was nothing that she could do. She had her own life to live back in Resembool, not in Central, and the cost of making a monthly trip plus buying him food was enough to make any time the last time. Winry never did tell him about her newfound love, with a handsome farmer named Carlson, because she knew that it could be a heavy blow to him. She did not have a way of telling if Edward was romantically interested in her or not but she did not want to take that chance.
Gathering the courage she opened the door saying, "Edward it's me. Winry. I'm here again."
She stepped into the one bedroom, one kitchen apartment with a look of hardly contained disgust. There were miscellaneous things across the floor, mostly consisting of books and papers with scribbles on them, and Edward was standing at the window looking outside to all of the innocent bystanders that knew nothing of his suffering.
"Ed?" She called out softly.
Ed looked over a shoulder for a moment than back out the window. "I saw a girl with a box of kittens for free last week."
Winry's heart seemed to crack open and she found it hard to say anything. Of course she knew what he meant - Al always had a huge heart, especially when it came to those furry little creatures. She did have warm memories of Al always thinking that when he would own a cat he would name it after a month. He always said that Autumn was his first pick, with June being a very close second.
"I got one," He said. "After all that time I said I never wanted a pet … now I get it. How weird is that?"
"Um . . . are you sure you want a cat? I don't know if he can live in here," Winry put it as gently as she could.
Edward turned around looking unfazed. He had heard so many times before that the place was a pigsty, and there was no denying that, so it didn't matter if she said it nicely or not.
"I know. I was going to clean up today but . . . I just don't feel like it."
"Do you have any cat food or litter?" Winry asked.
"Yeah. I had to go outside for the cat anyway so I figured that I should do it while I felt half-way decent," Edward replied. He looked towards the kitchen and shouted, "Autumn, come here!"
A pudgy cat trotted out over the mess towards it's new owner. He was all black except for with dots of white spread across his face. Winry smiled lightly. "It knows you already? How sweet."
"After a week of being called Autumn over and over I would know my name to." Edward bent down and scratched the kitten under it's chin.
Winry made her way into the kitchen and started sorting out food. The good, the almost expired, and the downright disgusting is what she would categorize each as. She knew that Edward depended on her, knowing that she would come month after month just to help him, and she wished that she could continue but after seven months she was growing tired. At first she thought that he would get better as time rolled on but his grief over loosing Alphonse for good while trying to bring his body back was obviously too much for him to handle.
Winry wasn't sure if she could do it anymore. It broke her heart to see Edward in such a condition. Without Alphonse there to help him he was so lost. It had always been Al that set him straight when he was losing control or made him smile when all hope seemed defeated. After Trisha had died Ed had depended on Al to help him but now he had no immediate family, just a few very close friends left.
After cleaning out the refrigerator and putting the new groceries in she cleaned off the counter that was littered with empty water bottles and washed the few dishes he owned so he wouldn't feel overwhelmed when wanting to make something right away. Edward was devoid of motivation and she wasn't sure what would make him give up so easily. Even washing a dish would be an excuse for him to not eat. Did he think that he didn't deserve to be happy since it was 'his fault' that his brother died? Did he think that he had no right to live decently?
She joined Edward in the living room and asked, "Do you have any laundry to be done? I can go outside and do it for you."
"Oh. Sure," He said tonelessly. He was sitting on the couch petting Autumn who was purring on his lap. Ed gestured over to the pile of clothes in a small hamper.
Winry wanted to plug her nose but didn't. She was about to take it out when she noticed how filthy Edward looked in his clothes.
"Ed, give me your jacket and shirt. I'll do them for you."
Ed shook his head. "I'm fine."
"You know you're not. You've probably been sleeping and living in those clothes for the past two weeks," Winry said with frustration clear in her face. "Hand over the jacket and shirt."
"I said I'm fine. Just leave it at that."
He's so used to me leaving things alone, She thought to herself. Well not anymore.
"I'm not going to. Not this time," Winry said. She set the hamper of clothes by the door and walked to her friend, determination surging from within.
"Winry, I'm fine."
"That sounds artificial. How many times have you repeated it in these last few months? You've lied every single time." Winry held out her hand and added, "Now hand over your jacket and shirt and I'll go do your laundry. I'm not going to go to Resembool knowing that you're wearing dirty clothes."
"I'll change when the clothes are washed," Ed bargained.
"What is so wrong that you can't do it now?"
"Leave it alone will ya'?" Edward snapped back. "You came on the wrong day."
"I wish that you would do something to help yourself," Winry coveted aloud.
"Wish is a word meant for the naive. I don't use it because I know better than to wish anything to appear or disappear."
"Maybe I use the word wish because that's all it is. A wish. Something that will never come to light," sorrowfully Winry countered. She saw the coldness in his eyes and she knew that she was not reaching him. "Do you think you deserve this-" She used her hands to indicate around the room "-for the rest of your life? If you do I swear that I'll smack you until you come to your senses!"
"Go ahead. Do it," Edward said sounding detached from his so called senses. "Nothing gets to me anymore."
"Well maybe it should! Maybe you should let it get you so you can realize how bad you're getting!" She retorted. The anger in her voice was not one of true rage, but one where her concern had simmered so long that she could not help but yell it so he would pay undivided attention. "You don't do anything anymore. Where is the Edward that used to travel with a goal? Where is the Edward who would tell others to quit whining and deal with their lives because it is possible to move forward? What happened to that spunk you used to have?"
Edward remained silent but did not break eye contact. He was not sure what to answer those questions with because he himself did not know where that part of him had ventured off to. Maybe that part had died along with his brother and would never return. Just like Al never could.
"I just want my friend back!"
Tears fell and soaked the papers she was standing on. Edward's eyes glimmered for a moment and he looked away, thoughts raking at his brain.
"How can I move forward? Al is gone."
"I know but you can't let grief dictate your life."
"You don't understand."
"Al was my best friend too!" Winry said, astonished that he would even say something so demeaning to her. Although she could tell he hadn't meant it to hurt her it did wound her. "He was like my little brother. I loved him . . ." She stopped for a moment considering her next words carefully. "And . . . you're like my brother, too, Ed, and I love you too much to let you go like this."
Edward eyes flickered for a moment up to her as though trying to see if she meant it or not. Was he really that untrusting to think she would say that for nothing?
He answered her heartfelt words with melancholy ones. "But I failed him."
"You failed? Tell me how you failed."
Edward gave her an odd look as though she said the grass was orange instead of green. "I couldn't bring him back. He died after all of those years stuck as a soul in a suit of armor! How can I say I didn't fail him?"
"You never gave up when things seemed hopeless. You joined the military just on the chance they could help you find the Philosopher's Stone. You traveled on the slightest hint of where it was, faced countless dangerous situations, all the while taking care of yourself and Al from age twelve! You protected him and yourself from things you shouldn't have gone through but you did. All for him."
"But-"
"Edward, can't you see that you tried your hardest? Even if you didn't have the power to bring him back that wasn't your fault. Atleast you tried."
Winry searched his golden eyes for any hint of if he was coming out of his shell. Anything would be an improvement to her. After seven months of tormenting herself about being sensitive with him she had said what she always wanted to say, but it wasn't making a difference, was it? She couldn't help him.
It wasn't his indifference that hurt. It was that she could not aid him that struck her the hardest.
Winry took a couple steps back and wiped at her eyes. "I'll . . . go and do the laundry."
Edward nodded and continued to stroke Autumn. His purring was the only sound filling the room after Winry had slammed the door. Ed thought he had heard her sobbing as she closed it but he had trained himself to slip away, no longer alert of the things around him, so he could be at peace without his conscious ripping his soul apart.
He couldn't even get the guts to assure her that he would be all right because he wasn't quite sure about his continuing existence either.
IIIII
The two brothers had always been by eachother's side and didn't have a second thought of giving up their own life to save one another. Edward had known that Al could very well die in the transmutation to bring back his body, and he could have met his demise as well, but both of them had assured eachother that no matter what that their bond was as strong as ever.
Winry couldn't help but cry for Ed, once again, since he had not allowed himself to. The weight of his grief was too much for her to endure any longer. Of course she had to do something for him but what? Send him to an mental institution? That wouldn't do him any good! Edward had discipline that he learned in the military but following an hour by hour schedule, and being treated as though he were broken, was not going to help him. It would only allow him to continue as though there was no hope - that he couldn't do anything on his own without supervision.
What else was there?
Winry didn't return back into the apartment complex. She stayed outside in the warm sun, consumed by her thoughts and worries. Edward had only turned seventeen, so atleast an adult could force him into therapy, because if he became of age he could only be forced if he was seen as a danger to himself or someone else. A disturbing thought came into her mind: Was Ed suicidal?
She shook her head. He wouldn't dare do that. He would dare leave her, Pinako, and everyone behind.
Winry hung up the clothes after she was done washing them. It would take a while for them to dry so she returned to Ed's apartment to see if she could coerce him to get some sort of help.
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Instead of coercing him she spent the whole time recalling memories of Al, or from their childhood they had shared together, and for the first time Edward had smirked at the thought of a four year old Al eating his birthday cake with his bare hands. Winry was surprised to see how old memories could bring out the best in them both.
Still it was undeniable the weight of Edward's depression. He seemed quite disconnected and would not make eye contact for all of the time that they talked. Although she tried to get her baby blue's to connect with his, he would always look away, as though afraid to read what her eyes would tell him.
After an hour and a half she went outside and retrieved all of the clothes from the clothesline and brought them back. Then she brought up the bargain of Edward changing his clothes and she watched, in confusion, as the color drained away from his face.
"I'll do it when you leave."
"Oh what are you? Four? I know I'm a girl but I've seen you in your boxers more times than any other woman. Lucky me, huh?" She said with a smile, trying to joke with him.
Edward wasn't having it. He just stared at his feet from where he sat. Winry had cleared an area for them to sit that was clean and he seemed to gravitate towards the mess since he was sitting on a pile of books.
"I only want to know that you're going to do it. I'm not trying to invade your privacy. Just that now you have a tendency not to do anything at all without someone pushing you," Winry said. "Which reminds me, you need a haircut."
Edward pulled his braid, that was down past the middle of his back instead of his shoulder blades, and agreed, "I guess you're right."
"I usually am. Do you have any scissors around?"
"I have a pair in one of the kitchen drawers."
After finding them in an empty drawer where the silverware used to be she held onto the braid and asked, "How short do you want it?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Well in that case I'll give you a crew cut."
"Fine, fine. Just to where it used to be."
With one snip the long golden braid was cut down to where it always had been, down to his shoulderblades. Winry threw the rest of the hair into a half-empty garbage bag not to far away and used her fingers to draw out the rest of the hair into a flow of golden locks. She cut away any split ends and considered it a job well done and really needed.
"All done. How do you feel?"
"Eh." He shrugged. "But thanks."
"You're welcome," She said putting the scissors on the floor. "Now change."
"Winry, don't."
He sounds so . . . frail. The Ed I knew never sounded like that unless he was pushed into a corner.
"What is wrong with you?" Winry asked, a confused and concerned tone with an edge of panic mixed.
"You're better off not worrying about it."
"Worrying about what? Atleast give me a chance to see if it's a good reason to worry or not!" Winry demanded. Her patience with his habit of remaining so filthy, and not taking proper care of himself, was becoming scarce.
Edward ran his automail fingers through his hair. It was hard to do so since it had not been brushed in a while. That was when Winry went searching for a brush, or a comb, leaving her friend to brood on the subject whether to tell her or not. Surely she would be upset but how much more frantic could she get? Would she abandon him for good? Or would she think he was crazy?
After a five minute search she found one under the sink, oddly, and than went to the task of getting the knots out of Ed's hair. The teen didn't even grunt when she hit a particularly hard spot and had to tear some of his hair from the roots to get it unstuck. There was an eerie silence filling that time where both of them were searching their minds for the right words to say. Neither were aware that the other was planning to reveal a secret.
Winry started to talk, figuring that if she told him something personal maybe he would be at ease about sharing. It was as though she were trying to convince a child to give up his favorite toy.
"Ed . . . I don't know how to say this but I'm not sure if I can come here every month anymore. My earnings can't allow it and, well, I've found someone special who's asked me to marry him."
Edward's head turned around sharply, looking as though he were the older brother protecting his younger sister, and asked, "Who is it?"
"His name is Carlson. He's a farmer and we've been dating for almost a year now."
"I've never heard of him," said Ed.
"Before Al you both weren't too involved in my life. I never had the time to tell you guys. Besides, I wasn't sure if you had feelings for me and I didn't want to hurt you . . ." She admitted.
"It's not like that," Edward replied calming her down a notch. "I just . . ."
"You just what?"
"Nevermind." He turned back around and Winry was disappointed that he was ignoring his own feelings. His leg started to shake up and down as if he were nervous.
Although she wasn't ask Winry continued to talk about him. "He's smart, hard-working, and could have had any girl he wanted. I consider myself lucky to have won his heart."
"Good for you," Edward congratulated but it didn't have any well-wishing manner in it.
Winry sighed audibly. "Back to my original point: I don't know if I can come here every month. I've said yes to Carlson and we're going to plan our wedding. When we set a date you're definitely invited."
Maybe the old Edward would have joked "I'll go but don't make me one of the bridesmaids" but the Edward that was in front of her just nodded his head mindlessly. He was gripping at his flesh arm squeezing it roughly and flinched everytime he did so. Winry noticed that little detail and became more concerned what was underneath his clothing. How could she get him out of it though? She couldn't overpower him.
"Ed, I know you probably don't feel like it, but change into some fresh clothes for me."
"Fine! I will! Just don't look at me," Edward snapped back. He stood up and dug out a black T-shirt and his old black pants. He looked at Winry expectantly but she didn't budge.
"I want to see what you're fussing about."
"Don't push it."
"You need to be pushed."
"What are you so concerned about? I'm alive aren't I? What else do you want?"
"Being alive and living a life are different and you know it!" Winry snapped vehemently. "If you call this living than you're worse off than I thought."
"Don't make this any harder than it is," He grinded out behind clenched teeth.
Winry walked towards him and hit him on his flesh arm, not too hard, but enough to snap his arm away and gasp as the pain that flared from it. Her disastrous theory was correct, wasn't it?
"Lift up your sleeve. I want to see your arm."
"I said don't push-"
She walked towards him but he did not back up. His eyes shimmered with a mix of anger and fear. "Edward, let me help you."
"I don't want any of your help. Now get out and go back to your fiancé who actually wants you around, because I don't. You're being a complete annoyance! Shutup and leave me alone!" He sneered before he could think of the gravity of what he said.
Winry stopped, unsure of what to say in reply. What could she say to that? She wanted to shoot an insult right back at him but, deep down, she knew that he didn't mean a word of it. It was just the depression talking. Except it didn't make it less painful to hear. After all she had done for him those three sentences had shattered what little hope she had of saving him from himself. It was sad to admit that she, Winry Rockbell, could not help her friend that she had known all of her life.
With tears in her blue eyes she said stiffly, "All right Ed. I guess this will be the last time I come here."
Edward didn't say a word. Inside he knew that he wanted her to stay, since she was the only one who dared to come around anymore, but he refused to have her help him. He was fine.
You're such a liar, he chided himself. You know you're a wreck but just don't want to burden anyone else. What a sorry bastard you are.
"I'll always be in Resembool and you know my number so when you feel like apologizing, or want me to help you, you can call."
Just like that Winry was out of his life and Edward hadn't thought it was possible to feel any more empty inside but he had managed to exceed that boundary. He didn't even reach down to pet Autumn, who was rubbing on his leg after witnessing the argument, and he went over to the couch with his head in his hands wondering what the hell was so wrong with him that he yelled at her like that. After all Winry only wanted to help.
Edward pulled up his sleeve without anyone to witness the blue, yellow, red, and purple bruises that covered his arm. There was hardly an inch of skin left untouched from his own brutality. He began to squeeze his arm to push away the emotions he felt inside, into the corner, like he never felt a thing.
IIIII
Before her train left in fifteen minutes she found herself in front of a phone, with a piece of paper clutched in her nervous hand, and the other gripping the handle of the phone. Now if only she had the courage to dial . . .
Winry was reluctant at first, wondering if she should just visit him, but he had been promoted to Brigadier General! It could take a while to reach him and she had no idea if he was even in Central. That would mean staying another night, also, and she only had fare for the train ride back to Resembool. If she really wanted to talk to him she would have to call his office number that she had taken from Ed when looking for the comb.
Roy Mustang had to help Ed. Edward needed a strong, healthy environment and someone who could be sympathetic but would not baby him. Winry couldn't do it - she was too emotionally invested in Edward. She could not look from a neutral perspective to make the best decisions for him. Hopefully he would help but what if he refused?
I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, Winry thought determined to help or atleast say she tried.
Before dialing the number she thought about how to state her case. Edward needed help, although he didn't want it; and Roy probably would not want to deal with a teenager in deep denial, and with a severe depression on top of that. Would Roy want to deal with it?
She dialed the number before she could talk herself out of it. Do it for Ed, she told herself. He needs you.
On the second ring she heard, "Brigadier General Mustang speaking."
For a moment she was silenced. Where to start? Before he took her silence as a sign to hang up she spoke. "Um, Brigadier General Mustang, sir, this is Edward Elric's friend Winry. I really need to talk to you about him. That is if you have the time, I hope you do."
"That bad huh?"
"Yes. I was hoping you could help."
"Go on."
Winry refused to be unnerved by his sound of objectivity. Atleast he hadn't hung up! "I'm worried about him. He hardly eats, his apartment is a mess, and although I've tried I can't get through to him. He thinks he's fine."
"And you think I could do better?" Roy asked, ringing of disbelief.
"I know that you may not get along too well sometimes but Ed does trust you," Winry explained her thinking. "I think you're the only strong, positive male figure still in his life. He needs structure. He needs guidance. I think you can provide that."
"I have a lot of work to do, I hope you realize that," Roy told her.
"Yes, I understand that. I wouldn't be calling you for help though unless Ed truly needed it. I can't give him the support he needs. He knows that I'll cave in eventually."
"So basically you want someone to kick his ass into gear? I've done that for years. I can do it again, I guess."
"Really? Thank you!" Winry thanked him happily.
"I'll do what I can but I'd like to know more about his situation. How bad of is he? He and Al were very close, so I'm sure he is still very devastated," Roy inquired.
"More than devastated. I think he's lost his love for life," Winry replied sadly.
"FullMetal lived for Al, really, seeing as his only goal was to return his body to him. I can understand that he must feel lost," Roy said. "I don't want to ask but do you believe that he is suicidal? I'll call in a professional to help before I do because I can't handle that alone."
"I don't think he is, but without someone there he'll only spiral down."
"Why can't you help him?" Roy asked more out of curiosity than needing to know.
"I've been trying for seven months." Winry hated to admit that she could not assist her friend but she kept going. "I've come every month with new food, done his laundry, talked to him. I just can't do it anymore. I've got a life in Resembool and as much as I'd like to have him come back with me I have my fiancé to worry about. It wouldn't be fair to him if I brought another man into the home, who I'd have to devote a lot of my attention to."
"You understand that I can't baby-sit him. I can't force him to accept my help either," Roy said although reluctantly. The man had known FullMetal for five years, the little guy had been through hell and back, and he would be damned if the one person he who defeated Ed was himself. "But I'll try my hardest."
Winry held back tears of appreciation. "Thank you. I was worried that you would say no."
"I don't think I could say no. FullMetal was a good asset to my team even if he was a hellion, and I haven't protected all of his secrets for him to just quit now. Besides I don't think any of my subordinates would ever speak to me again if I refused."
After giving Roy Mustang the address to Ed's apartment, which was placed conveniently in the north of Central just as Roy was, Winry said, "I do have to leave. My train is boarding now."
"Alright. Bye."
When Winry hung up she wondered if she should have mentioned something about checking his arm but shook it away. Maybe Mustang could get Ed to see, maybe through some needed harsh words, that he couldn't continue to live how he was. Winry had hope, atleast, and boarded the train looking up into the sky asking Alphonse, wherever he was, to give his brother the courage to heal.
IIIII
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