Prologue: Six Months Later

I sat on my favorite fluffy chair in my workroom, idly flipping a A08 screw over and over with my head down on the table. I sighed and put the little screw down and turned to a flat, shiny, unused piece of metal. I picked it up and looked at my reflection. I saw my eyes filled with sadness and loneliness. A tear formed in my eyes and I quickly abandoned the metal. I sat up, grabbed my toolbox, and pulled it towards me. I flipped up the latch and opened the box. I left the lid half open, hoping it would stay open while I looked for something in the box.
I started digging through all sorts of tools, then, suddenly, the lid snapped closed on my fingers just as I was withdrawing them from the toolbox. I flinched and then closed my eyes tightly as the pain seeped in. "Unnghh..." I murmured through gritted teeth, and held back the pain-filled yelp that had suddenly leapt into my throat. After a minute or two, I opened my eyes. I used my free hand to lift the latch up and then the lid off. I quickly pulled my fingers away from my toolbox and examined them, rapidly checking each side of my hand and each finger repeatedly. I tried bending each bright red finger. Although they throbbed with pain, they were all fine. I looked up and pushed the toolbox away then pushed myself away from the work table and slowly got up. As I stood, a piece of paper fell to the ground. I looked down at the paper quizzically and bent to pick it up. I turned it over and gasped, eyes wide.
It was a picture of a boy with golden blonde hair tied back in a braid, a red coat, and honey amber eyes. My eyes softened as I gazed at the picture. *Ed... I wonder where you are now?* My eyes drifted to the side of the picture and caught sight of my unappealing red fingers. *Ed, if you were here, you'd be keeping me busy and I wouldn't have been so bored and then I wouldn't have hurt my fingers!* I thought teasingly, even though I knew he couldn't hear me.
I lifted my eyes up from the picture, "I miss you, Ed," I whispered. All of a sudden, the phone started ringing. I jumped at the sound of the ringer. "BRINNNG!" the phone screamed. I slapped the picture down onto my thigh, my eyes hardened and stared in the direction of the phone in the living room.
"Ok! I'm coming!" I shouted, and hastily walked into the living room. I paused to fix my tone before picking up the phone and beginning with an over-joyed, "Hello, this is Rockbell Automail, how may I help you?"

A chuckle sounded on the other end. "Ah, Miss Winry Rockbell!"
My eyes widened, *That voice!* "F-Fuhrer Mustang!"
"Hmm, no, you can just call me Mustang! Wouldn't want to wear out the title."
I giggled a little. "Well, if you're calling, it should be important. What's up?"
"Have you gotten any deliveries? Or SPECIAL deliveries?"
"What? No... Why?"
"Hmm..." Fuhrer Mustang put on a teasing, mysterious voice. "I am a psychic!" His regular voice came back, "There's going to be a knock at your door right about... Now."

"KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!"

I turned sharply towards the front door. "H-How did you know that?"
"I sent something to you that I know you'll love," Mustang replied with a sweet touch in his voice. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then! Have fun with your presents!" *Click* Mustang hung up.
I hung the phone back up onto its stand slowly, and walked sluggishly to the front door. "Bark! Arf arf! Hah hah hah hah hah..." *Den? Why is he so happy?* I wondered. I rested my hand on the doorknob, feeling its cold, empty metal touch my skin. I slowly opened the door and blinked my eyes open in surprise. *I guess Dreams really Do Come True...*