Where were You?
Winry was alone that night. She was alone most every night, tinkering with scrap metal and bolts, just trying to find a way to make Edward's life easier. And yet, though her attempts were all souly for his benefit, though she did it for him to have an easier life, he was never happy. He was always looking to be…normal…and no matter her attempt, Winry knew that Edward would always feel that way. Even though he wasn't the only one…even though he still had his life, and, in some small light, so did Alphonse. She knew, she understood why it would always be like this; why he wouldn't stop chasing the dream…She knew it and still, she didn't see him the way he saw himself, and so she always thought he was being selfish…No, it wasn't that.
"If you succeed," she said aloud despite herself, the pain resounding in her vocal chords, "you won't need me anymore…" She stared at the parts scattered throughout her space over the wrench she held loosely in her left hand and sighed. She couldn't help but think then that maybe she was the one being greedy…the one who was selfish… "If I were just this, and you become yourself again…would you honestly still come to me when you're in trouble…"
The silence was becoming thicker in the room. She leaned over the edge of her bed to bat with the small bolts and nuts accumulating next to her butter mellow bed skirt with her fingertips. The small, tinkering noises eased the tension of the silence, but it didn't make her feel any better. She knew it was pointless to be depressed about the matter, it wasn't going to do anything for the issue, but she couldn't help it. Her attention found itself on a singular bolt on the floor. She rolled it about absently, staring past it; deep into the memory it played silently within the reaches of her mind. She thought she could see him –Edward –in that little metallic instrument, but it was only her heart creating illusions. Letting her see what she wished was there…it was cruel.
Outside, the rain drummed monotonously, creating a depressing composition with the humming ceiling fan over the moody teen. She was still focused on the little metal object. It was surreal…one of the originals…from the first arm she fitted for that Edward Elric. Dropping her wrench gently on the floor, she reached and took it with her left hand. It glinted in her palm when her fingers blossomed back outward, exposing the polished, silvery metal. She saw her eyes inside of the material, saw them looking back at her. It was a sight she wished to see soon, but somewhere else. She wanted to see herself inside a brighter light…a brighter color, deeply golden…yet still…despite the oddness and single-minded-ness the bearer held…human…She wanted to see herself in his eyes, Edward's eyes. Though she knew all the wishing and wanting and yearning and praying still may not be enough to receive it. It still wouldn't be enough to convince him that he was perfect. The cold metal of his right arm didn't make him inhuman…it only proved that he was human. It exposed that deep down, he was as frail and vulnerable as any other person.
"And it's not that bad," she said as though he were there inside that little bolt, "in fact it's refreshing having something that cool touch your skin after a good work-out." She smiled a little, but only to release it into a frown after a good sigh. "Come on, Ed. Whadda ya say?" she breathed as she rolled onto her back. The ceiling fan droned over her as she stared, unfocused, up at the ceiling.
Why was she so depressed, on this of all days? It was her birthday, after all. She sighed to herself. Of course, with no one to celebrate it with, what makes it so happy? She stretched her arms over her head; then let them go limp over the side of her bed. The small tool rolled out of her relaxed fingers, clinking against a still-standing bolt and toppling its perfect balance to create the artful, lifeless dance Winry's items seemed to always be performing. In rhythm, the little bolts rolled about, eventually stopping before the melancholy song of the rain and ceiling fan was complete.
And all the while…all Winry could think about…
"Ed."
The nickname held so much.
…The rain was still pouring when the knocking resonated from Winry's door. She wasn't still sulking around –she managed to find a part to fix that stupid VCR in the other room –but she wasn't really in the mood for company. Still, it would be rude to just let the poor person out there stand in the rain. She walked to the door cautiously and opened it.
"Good evening, ma'am," said the man on the other side. He was much taller than she was, seemed professional in his blue business suit, but there was something off about him.
"Good evening," she answered after the awkward pause. The man smiled. She didn't trust that smile.
"Ma'am, I'm looking to find a buyer for this item," he said holding out the golden locket. "You see, it's all I have left and it won't do me any good if I starve to death." The ceiling fan droned on in the background, pushing around papers on the floor. Winry looked at the item, gently closing the door halfway.
"I'm not interes-" Suddenly, she found herself being encased in a rather large burlap sack. She kicked and screamed, but couldn't loose herself. There was a scuffle outside the bag; she heard the businessman shout at her captor to set her loose, but apparently, he failed. Winry was stuck in that itchy bag.
And still, all she could do was think of Ed…
Why wasn't he there to bail her out, to save her? She was thrown into some sort of vehicle as she panicked in her mind. Why couldn't it for once just go the way she wanted it to.
"Lemme out!" she shouted over and over, but her captor gave no response. Eventually, she was forced to give up screaming. She let herself listen to the raindrops hitting the windshield and the melody of the windshield wipers streaking back and forth. Without any warning, sleep entranced her, and she was dreaming.
"Is she awake yet?" she heard a familiar voice say. She opened her eyes and saw another ceiling fan, one different from hers. The ceiling was starch white.
"Winry, hey!" came another familiar voice. The girl sat up, looking at…
"Ed! Alphonse!" she cried, jumping off the sofa she had been laying on, effectively tackling Edward in the process.
"Hey, there's our birthday girl," Edward said in his normal, soft tone. "Get off me, wouldja," he added under his breath. She obeyed, standing and looking about the room.
"You guys saved me from that sack?" she asked, directing her glance at Alphonse. "Just you tell me who that creep was! I swear, I'll-"
"That was me," came Armstrong's voice from the doorway. "It was a joke played on friends that has been passed down on my family for many generations. The businessman was an alchemic puppet."
"Why you!" Winry shouted, lunging toward him, Edward held the girl back.
"Hey, hey, take it easy," Alphonse tried. "It's just a little-"
"Hey!" Ed shouted back at Alphonse. "Stop using the 'L' word already!" The armoured spirit raised his palms to show no harm.
"Sorry, big brother," he apologized. Winry stopped squirming for Armstrong at that moment.
"Get your hands offa me!" she shouted, giving an unprepared Ed a good slap on top the head.
"OW!" Ed complained. "Jeeze, last time I surprise you on your birthday!" he screamed at Winry.
"Who said I wanted to be surprised!" she countered. "You probably only did all this because your arm needs fixing!"
"No I didn't!" the bickering continued. "I just wanted you to have a nice birthday!" Alphonse walked over, putting a hand on each of their shoulders as they engaged in a glaring contest.
"Stop fighting you two," he advised. "Ed, why don't you give her your present?" The blonde haired youth untucked the parcel of which his brother spoke from beneath his jacket.
"Here," he said at last. Winry took it carefully and opened it. Her heart started when the little lid came up and she could look within.
"Omigosh!" she squealed. "A Skillman 842 adjustable screw driver with 84 driving heads!" She nuzzled the plastic handle to her face. "I love it!"
These were the times she would cherish forever. But underlying all the joy moments like this brought her, she knew that eventually they would cease. As soon as Ed no longer needed her, he wouldn't want her around. Her joyful expression became a saddened one.
"Is there something wrong, Winry?" Edward asked, a bit concerned. "I thought you said you loved it." The girl looked at the tool, a tear slipping from the eye Ed couldn't see.
"I do."