Summary: In which Winry has a nightmare, the Elric brothers try to make breakfast, and Edward and Winry make a promise over pancakes. One-shot.

Winry awoke with a jolt like an electric shock, eyes flying open. Her blonde hair stuck to her face with cold sweat, and it took her but a few moments to realize how heavily she was breathing. Her eyes stung, and hot drops ran down her cheeks, soaking the pillow behind her head.

She didn't move, staring up at the knots in her ceiling. She grasped reality feebly and realized, I'm still in Risembool. I'm still home. I'm okay, only half aware. Her brain was clouded by fear, and adrenaline still coursed through her veins.

She waited for the burn of panic to fade before rolling over, pulling her blanket up to her chin and burrowing deeper within the covers. "It was a dream," she told herself, but she said it as though she were asking a question. "It was...just...just a dream...yeah, that's right, just a dream…"

She shut her eyes.

Flashbacks of her nightmare played on her closed lids, and she sucked in a sharp breath of terror and shot up in her bed, eyes once again flying open. She put a hand on her chest, over her heart, and tried, once again, to reassure herself that it was just a dream, that she was home, safe, and that Ed and Al were safe, too…

She tried (and failed) to swallow the lump in her throat. Tears burned behind her eyes again, and she rubbed furiously at them with her knuckles. "Why...why am I crying?" she asked herself. "It was a dream...it was a nightmare...nothing...n-nothing more…"

She thought back to said nightmare, running its events through her head once again.

Sure, it was a nightmare, but, all the same...it could easily turn to reality…

CRASH!

She was already on edge, so at the sound of that clatter, she jumped and yelped, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to her neck. She looked around wildly, chewing on the tip of her thumb nervously.

She waited. She heard muffled shouting issue from downstairs, and admittedly, this confused her. It was still dark outside, which meant it was early morning; Winry had stayed up most the night working on an automail repair and had fallen asleep somewhere around two or three AM.

So it was early morning, and someone besides herself was awake.

Knowing there was no going back to sleep - especially not after her nightmare - she swung her legs off the side of the bed, threw a lightweight coat over her tanktop, and made for the stairs.

The light was on in the kitchen. That was the first thing she noticed. She wiped her eyes again, hoping they weren't red or swollen from all the crying. She skipped the squeaky board of one of the steps, not ready to alert the early birds - whoever they were- of her presence just yet.

When she made it to the last step, she paused, leaned against the wall, and listened.

"-can't dump that out, Brother, we need it!"

"Milk is evil! It must die!"

Winry sighed. Of course. There was another clatter that sounded like a pan being dropped, and Winry put her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Now certain of just who it was in the kitchen, she jumped the last step and kept walking towards the source of the noise.

"Hey! What gives!"

"Brother, please, stop shouting! You'll wake the whole house!"

Winry stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, and she couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips.

Edward and Alphonse, her best friends since childhood, were glaring at each other, surrounded by pots, pans, and what looked like spilled flour. The armor that was currently the vessel for Alphonse's soul was dusted white, and Ed's golden hair, tied back in a high ponytail, was no different.

Edward opened his mouth, no doubt to launch into another fit of shouting, when Winry cut him off before he had the chance to.

"Good morning," Winry said.

She watched Edward and Alphonse stiffen, and then, in unison, they turned and stared at her. Edward was gaping, and if Alphonse had a body, Winry knew he would be, too.

There was a beat.

And then, Edward groaned loudly and slapped his hand to his forehead. "Aw, great!" he shouted, and he gestured madly at Alphonse with his free hand. "Look what you did, Alphonse! You woke her up!"

"I woke her up?" blurted Alphonse, once again turning back to his brother, and he sounded offended. "You were the one shouting!"

"Yeah, well, if you didn't keep dropping every pan you got your hands on, maybe she wouldn't have gotten up!" Edward retorted, pivoting so his back faced his brother. "You blew it. Foiled it!"

"That's not very fair, Brother!"

"Foiled it! Foiled it!"

Winry couldn't help it. She laughed - hard. So hard she doubled over, clutching her knees for support. Once again, Edward and Alphonse turned to stare at her, but this time, Edward looked offended.

"Hey! What're you laughing at!?" he protested, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Winry said, but she didn't mean a word of it. After her nightmare, it felt good to laugh. "I just - gak!" A half-full bag of flour socked her in the face, thrown by yours truly. The bag of flour was light, so it didn't hurt her, but the force of the impact on her face sent the flour spilling everywhere. All over the floor, and all over her.

"EDWARD!" Winry fumed, and now, it was Edward who was laughing.

"Haha, you should see the look on your face!" he gawked, pointing. "You look like some sort of angry snowman - OH CRAP!" His grin curved into a look of horror when she pulled her trusty wrench from the pocket of her coat and held it threateningly, brandishing it like a sword. "OH CR-A-A-A-P!"

"Look what you've done, Edward," said Alphonse, who didn't sound one bit concerned. "Now she's going to kill you."

Edward stared at his younger brother, betrayed. "Do something, Alphonse!" he cried, because even the great Fullmetal Alchemist feared Winry Rockbell when she had her wrench, and for good reason, too.

"No way! You did this to yourself!" said Alphonse. "You're on your own this time!"

"Traitor!" Edward shrieked, pointing accusingly. "And just for that, you stay away from my funeral!"

Winry raised her wrench and took aim, ready to throw it (and probably crack Ed's skull afterwards), but at the last second, she paused. She took in a deep breath through her nose.

"What's that smell?" she asked, frowning.

Edward, who had been trying to hide behind Al's suit of armor for protection, poked his head around and looked at Winry oddly. "What smell?" he said, still eying her wrench warily.

"It smells...good," said Winry, lowering her tool (she was sure she saw Edward sigh in relief at that). And then… "What are you two doing up so early in the kitchen, anyways?" Winry questioned suspiciously.

"Oh, um, yeah…" said Edward, stepping out from behind Alphonse, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're heading back to Central this afternoon, so, well…"

"We wanted to make breakfast," said Alphonse, "as a sort-of parting gift."

"Yeah," said Edward, pointing at his brother, eyes still on Winry. "That. It was supposed to be a surprise, but..." He sighed. "Yeah. We screwed it. You weren't supposed to wake up."

Winry was shaking her head before he even got through speaking. "No, I was already awake," she said, and her nightmare flashed before her eyes once again. "That was really sweet of you two, you know, trying to make breakfast..."

"Erm, yeah, I guess," said Edward, looking up in thought, "if you want to put it like that...wait." He frowned, looked confused for a moment or two, and then turned his piercing gaze back on Winry. "Why were you awake in the first place, again?"

Winry's fake, fragile smile faded. "Oh," she said quietly, reaching to rub her arm. She hadn't exactly been expecting Edward to ask that question. "I was working on automail." It was an easy enough lie, and definitely believable; the Elrics of all people knew how obsessed she was with her work as a mechanic.

"No you weren't," Edward said, and he stepped over two fallen pots, towards her. "First of all, your drill wasn't running, and second of all, you aren't in your work clothes."

Winry sighed. Maybe that lie was a bit desperate. "...You're right," she said, lowering her head. She was at least four inches taller than Edward, but right now, she was slumping so horribly they were the same height. "I wasn't."

Edward forced a small smile - it looked like hard work. "You okay?"

Winry shook her head, sending down a small rain of flour. "No," she said. "I'm not."

...

"You know, you didn't have to lie to me."

Winry nodded shakily, shutting her eyes. "I know," she said. She and Edward were seated beside each other on the couch in the living room, and Winry currently balanced a plate of pancakes - courtesy of Edward and Alphonse - on her lap. Edward's own plate was on the coffee table in front of the couch, and Alphonse was in the kitchen cleaning up.

Edward sighed, folding his hands - one real, one false. "I get them, too, you know," he said. "Nightmares. What, did you think I'd laugh at you, or something? Is that why you lied?"

Winry shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "I just, I didn't...you and Al, you...you always deal with so much. I didn't want to...to...to make you worry, or...or burden you…"

Edward sighed again, this time more heavily, and he leaned back. "You idiot," he muttered.

Winry nodded and tried distracting herself with her breakfast. Blueberry pancakes, one of her favorite dishes, and it was no coincidence Ed and Al had chosen this to make for breakfast.

"...What was it about, anyways?" Edward asked. "Your nightmare. If you don't mind me asking."

Winry paused, set down her fork. She decided not to lie again; besides, even if she did hide the truth, Edward would figure it out eventually, if not right away. "Just...my parents," she said. "I dreamed about them, about their death...and then...and then it wasn't my parents anymore...it was you, and Al…"

Edward sucked in a sharp breath and sat forward again, looking down at his hands. "Winry," he said, and then, after a brief pause, "you know you can't always worry about us, right?"

Winry nodded for the third time, but she didn't mean it. "I know," she said, "but...but I can't...I can't help it. My mom and dad...I thought they'd come back, when they left to help in the war, but they didn't. And...and I can't help but wonder...what if...what if you and Al don't come back one day…?"

Edward sighed again, running a hand through his flour-speckled hair. "Honestly, I don't know," he said. "I can't tell you what to do if something happens to us, but...I can promise you that I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we come back. 'Kay?"

Edward took promises seriously, and Winry knew this, so when she nodded, she meant it. "Okay," she said, and she believed him. She had to believe him. "Thanks."

"Yeah…don't mention it."

There was a beat.

"So...how are they?" Edward said out of the blue.

"How are what?" Winry asked.

"The pancakes," Edward clarified, leaning forward and taking his own plate off the coffee table. He raised his fork and prodded one of the pancakes in question. "They any good?"

"Oh…" He's trying to change the subject, she realized, and she was grateful for that. "...Yeah," she said, slicing a pancake with the side of her fork. "They're great." She laughed softly, hoping it didn't sound forced. "Did you know they were one of my favorites?"

"Yeah, 'course I did," said Edward, and he, too, smiled - this time, it didn't look fake. "Remember the first time Granny made them for all of us? It was the middle of winter...we were running late for school, but we still wanted to wait for the pancakes to be done..."

"Oh yeah," said Winry, calling to mind said memory. "I do. We tried to trick you into drinking milk that day, too." She smirked at him, remembering the conversation she'd overheard just after coming down the stairs. "Is that why you threw out the milk earlier?"

Edward shrugged carelessly. "Something like that," he said. "Milk is evil, anyways. Pancakes, however, are life."

"But pancakes have milk in them, don't they?"

"Yeah," said Edward, "but the pancakes overpower the milk because milk is evil and pancakes will always prevail."

Winry couldn't help but laugh at that one. "Pancakes, really?" she said, shaking her head.

"Pancakes," Edward agreed firmly. He paused, waited a beat or two, and then continued. "How about this," he said, setting his plate aside. "I'll make you a deal."

Oh great. She knew where this was going. "A deal," said Winry, sighing. "You mean like equivalent exchange? I told you, you alchemists are crazy, I don't follow those rules-"

"No, not like that," said Edward, turning to face her. "Not an exchange. I mean like a promise."

"A promise," Winry repeated, because she knew Edward took promises seriously.

"Yeah, exactly," said Edward. He pointed a finger at her, inches away from her face. "Whenever you have a nightmare and Al and I are around, even if we're sleeping, wake us up and we'll make pancakes."

Winry couldn't help but smile. "Your solution to nightmares is food," she said.

Edward rolled his eyes, withdrew his hand and crossed his arms over his chest. "What, you got a problem with that?" he said. "It was just a suggestion, anyways, I never said you had to-"

"No, it's fine," said Winry, and her smile became more and more honest with every passing second. "It's fine. Pancakes are fine."

Edward nodded. "And if we're not around," he said, "and you have a nightmare, call me and I'll write you a rain check."

"A rain check for pancakes."

"Hey, pancakes are awesome. Don't question it."

"I won't."

Edward nodded solemnly and turned his gaze back to his plate, which he took from the coffee table for the second time, finally ready to eat.

"Thank you, Edward," Winry said quietly. "It...it means a lot to me."

Edward grunted in response, mouth full. Winry focused on her own breakfast for quite some time, before a question popped into her mind, and she turned her gaze back to the boy sitting beside her.

"Edward...what are your nightmares about?"

Edward turned to look at her, swallowed, then sighed. "Right," he said. "I guess it's only fair I tell you, huh?"

Winry nodded. Even if she didn't live by the laws of Equivalent Exchange, Edward certainly did, and she knew this very well.

"Well," Edward started slowly, "...normally they're about what happened on that night."

Winry didn't need clarification as to what that night was - the night Edward and Alphonse tried to bring their mother back from the dead. The night Edward sacrificed his arm to bond his little brother's disembodied soul to a suit of armor. The night Alphonse stumbled to the Rockbell's doorstep, his unconscious, half-dead older brother bleeding in his arms.

The night both Elrics looked death in the eyes and almost fell to it.

"...I guess that's the most common one," Edward said, pushing a blueberry around his plate with his fork, "but then there's the one about this little girl we couldn't save, and then there's losing Al, or...every once in awhile...losing you…"

Winry only looked at him, eyes softening.

And then...

"Pancakes," she said firmly, reaching over and poking Edward on the shoulder with her fork. "The same rule applies for you. You have a nightmare, wake me up and we'll make pancakes."

Edward smiled and shook his head. "I guess I deserved that," he said, rubbing his automail shoulder; the one she'd poked. "I knew those words would get flipped around somehow or another…"

"Do you agree to it, then?" said Winry.

Edward sighed, but nodded. "Sure," he said. "You bet." He raised his head, golden eyes meeting blue ones. "Thank you, Winry."

Winry smiled. "And don't you forget it," she said, flicking a bit of flour at him, and the duo went back to their pancakes.

Beyond the horizon, the sun began to rise.

A new day had begun.

Author's Notes:

This was supposed to be really short but it turned out being a lot longer than I intended it to be, and I hope no one's complaining. And for the record, no, pancakes are not my comfort food. I just like them a lot and they're great with whipped cream and lots of butter.

Anyways, I really like this and I ship EdWin to death, so I guess there's that, too. The first time I saw Edward and Winry on screen together the first thing I said was, "I ship it!" and my sibling, who was watching the show with me, said exactly the same thing.

AND THE BEST PART ABOUT IT IS THAT EDWIN IS CANON. THE AUTHOR SHIPS IT, TOO! YAY! THE SHIP HAS SAILED, THE SHIP HAS SAILED! :D It makes me happy! :D

Anyways, I hope you guys liked this little (or not so little) one-shot! I hope you guys leave me a review; they always make me happy. :) Almost as happy as the EdWin ship sailing. :D Thank you all so much for reading! :D

Cheers! ("Oh snap, snap! Spark, spark! It's time to light up the diggy-diggy dark!" XD)

-BeyondTheClouds777