And so, without further ado, here is my first fanfiction! It is Edward/Winry, and it's based on the first series. I really like this one a lot, for some reason. The only characters that are mine are, well, the ones you don't know. I don't own anything, it all goes to Hiromu Arakawa.
StarKatt427
Three small figures lay in the grass as the sun dipped behind the hills of Resembool, the sky an orangy pink with the last light of day. A cool breeze blew around them, bringing in leaves that flew through the air, their colors varying from electric yellow to muted red. The children had been in enjoyable silence for some time now, their hands clasped with the one next to them, and even though the wind was growing cooler as night drew closer, not one moved.
The child in the middle, a girl of six named Anna, suddenly said with strong conviction, "I wanna fly."
"Huh?" the boy to her right, her brother, asked. "Why would you wanna do that?"
"I just would," she said simply, deciding to keep her reasoning to herself. She watched as a bird flew overhead, slightly envious that she was stuck on the ground. "Don't you want to?"
"Not really." He let her hand go, then turned his back to her and closed his eyes, still annoyed with his little sister because of the fact he'd been this close to sleep when she just had to talk, and about something so stupid as flying.
She glared at her brother's back for a moment, then turned to her cousin, her gaze softening tremendously. "What about you, Al?"
The youngest child thought for a moment. "It would be fun, but…wouldn't it be scary?" Anna felt his hand tighten around hers. "It's just so high up, and the sky's really big."
"That's okay." Anna sat up, then looked down into the child's face, taking in the soft gray eyes, eyes that watched her with admiration and content. "I'd be with you, so why would you be scared?" She smiled, then her smile turned to a grin, and before they knew it, both children were grinning as Aldoss nodded softly, then sat up next to his cousin, hand still entwined with hers.
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"Oh, come on, there are plenty of things to be scared of." Trishen, Anna's brother, was now sitting up too, an roguish glint in his blue eyes. Being the oldest, he believed he was also the smartest of their little group. "You could fall, or get burned up by the sun, or get shot-"
"Shot?" Both children repeated in unison, their eyes wide as they gazed at the oldest of the bunch, who seemed to be enjoying the attention.
"Yup. And besides." He grinned deviously at his sister, the moment of torment coming. "Anna's too small to fly."
And that was all it took for him to get his revenge on her from being stirred from his almost slumber.
Anna shot up, golden eyes like fire as she screamed at the top of her lungs, "WHO THE HECK ARE YOU CALLIN' SMALL?" It took all her self control to not hit him directly in the face, so she settled for jerking her leg upward, directly striking his shin, then grabbing Al's hand as she headed toward the house. The boy followed obediently, only turning back to see Trishen crouched over, his hands wrapped around his leg, muttering about how stupid little sisters were.
"Mama!" Anna yelled as she walked though the door and down the hall, only to find Al's mother, Fae, with her second oldest child toddling around on the floor and the newborn baby sleeping on a soft yellow blanket. As Anna headed into the kitchen, Aldoss walked toward his mother, then crawled into her lap as he watched Elizabeth lean over a sleeping Lillia, lose her footing, then fall on her backside with a soft Oof.
"What happened this time?" his mother asked, her voice softly amused as she began picking grass out of his hair.
"Trishen called Anna small again." He leaned back on his mother's chest and closed his eyes as her heard Aunt Winry's voice coming from the open kitchen door…
"I know he made you mad, but that doesn't mean you should kick him," Winry chided gently, playing with her daughter's messy hair as she sulked. Having just invited her grandmother to dinner, she'd barely hung up the phone when Anna had rushed in, eyes bright with fury, mouth drawn into a scowl as she stomped into the room and began to tattle on her brother.
It was amusing to see the way her children and nephew acted so much like herself and the Elric brothers had once when they were children, Trishen goading Anna the same way Winry had once provoked Edward about his own height. Of course, both Als, her brother-in-law, Alphonse, and her nephew, Aldoss, were always the peace makers between the two. Although Aldoss was only three, he was usually more mature than either of hers.
"But he started it," she whined.
"You still need to apologize."
"I'm not until he does."
Just like Ed, Winry thought. "Okay, how about this? I'll go talk to him and make him feel bad, so that he'll want to apologize. Then, you accept and say 'I'm sorry' back to him. Okay?"
Anna thought it over a moment, then grinned brightly at her. "Yeah, that works. He just has to say it first."
Just then, Edward and Alphonse walked through the door, carrying firewood into the living room.
"What happened to Trishen?" Edward asked, amusement apparent in his voice. The clonk of dropping wood could be heard through the ajar kitchen door as the two tall figures bent over the fireplace. "When we came into the yard, he had his leg drawn up and was rubbing a nasty looking bruise."
"He called Anna small," Winry heard Fae reply, "so she kicked him."
"Ah, I know how she feels. I was often the target of short jokes too," Edward replied as he walked into the kitchen, glaring softly at Winry. "Most of them came from my own wife."
"Well, you've definitely grown some," Winry said as Edward wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to his chest. "Barely." She laughed at his scowl, then placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently. "At least I finally have to look up at you."
"Will Trishen ever have to look up at me?" Anna asked, gazing at her parents hopefully.
"Probably not, sweetie," Edward replied as he released his wife, then bent down to be eye-to-eye with Anna. "Boys get taller than girls. Usually."
"I'm gonna go talk some extreme guilt into Trishen," Winry said, patting her husband and daughter on their heads as she headed toward the door.
"Let's hope it works." Edward watched her until she closed the door, certain adult thoughts entering his mind.
That is, until he remembered his young daughter was still gazing at him. Embarrassed, he forced said thoughts away.
"Okay," he began. Edward smiled, then picked Anna up and sat her on the bar so her legs hung over the edge. He pulled a chair over and sat down in front of her, straddling it backwards. "What exactly did your brother say?"
Anna's comfortable mood dissipated as quickly as it had come with his simple question. She stared at her chubby hands, feeling angry and hurt. "He said I'm too small to fly. And he knows I wanna, so…"
"Why do you want to fly?" her father asked curiously, absentmindedly playing with her hair, the same shade of gold as his. It still amazed his sometimes how much she resembled him. While Trishen gained most of his features from Winry, including hair color, eye color and shape, and the fact that he was already tall for a seven-year-old, Anna was a girl version of himself when he was small, not to mention she acted just like him; always moving and somewhat defiant, the small blonde child was constantly finding her way into mischief.
Anna fidgeted with her hands, then glanced at Edward slowly. "You'll make fun of me."
"I'd never make fun of you," Edward said seriously, his other hand, his automail hand, now moving across her back, fingers rubbing soothing circles through her sweater.
"Then you'll get mad." Anna's bangs covered her eyes as she looked down, only to feel warm fingers lifting her chin up softly as Edward gazed at her expectantly.
"Anna, do I even have to say anything to that?" Her bottom lip quivered slightly and Edward, slightly taken aback, soothingly rubbed his fingers over her soft cheek. "You can tell me anything and I won't get mad."
"It's just…you always go to different places, and I never get to come with you. You never let us go. So I…I thought if I could fly, then…I could go with you." She looked away quickly, hands balled into small fists as she felt embarrassment take hold of her, vision blurring slightly through the frustrated tears she refused to let fall. He'll probably laugh at me now, she thought glumly.
Edward didn't feel like laughing, and he didn't feel anger; he felt shame. Shame for always leaving his family behind while he went off to other parts of the country, sometimes even other countries, to learn information or a new type of alchemy skill. And, although he'd always told himself that he had a good reason, that learning how to defuse chimeras was an important task, he knew deep inside that he wasn't home enough.
Oh, no, he thought, a sudden realization hitting him. I'm turning into Hohenheim. I'm leaving, just like he did.
Edward knew his father had had his reasons for leaving, and he'd forgiven him years ago when they were both on the other side of The Gate. But, still…he'd left them, and Edward wasn't sure he'd ever completely forgive him. So, before Edward and Winry had even mentioned the idea of having children, before they'd even gotten married, he'd told himself he'd never leave, that he wouldn't become his father. That he'd be there for his family.
And now, here he was, getting the newsflash from his little girl that he was his father. Maybe he hadn't been gone for ten years, maybe he hadn't just left one day without telling his children goodbye. But he was leaving them constantly.
Recently, he'd arrived back from Xing, a country to the east, and he was already supposed to return there in a little over a month. Barely six weeks with his family, then he'd be gone for who knows how long. Once it had even been six months. Half a year. Half a year he'd never get back, of missing his children grow up, of not being with the woman he loved.
Edward knew Winry understood how he was helping people by doing this, and even though she didn't like it, she never said anything, because it was exactly the same as when they were teenagers, him leaving, sometimes not even calling, and she'd told him years ago how him leaving hurt her.
Edward gazed at Anna, his hands no longer moving, and he realized that he'd been holding his breath. Sighing, he rushed his automail fingers through the fringe of his bangs, biting the inside of his jaw. "Anna…I know how me leaving…is hard, but…ah, crap. I'm not good at this," he muttered, pulling at his hair.
"No, you're not," Anna replied quietly, and Edward realized with slight panic that she was crying. She sniffled, then wiped at her eyes quickly, annoyed she'd let her tears slip.
"Baby…" If there was one thing Edward hated more than to see Winry crying, it was his children's tears. He still remembered the pain and despair he'd felt a few years earlier when Trishen had been so sick with the flu, the way his little voice had called out for him when the fever hit, so weak and fragile, tears falling gracefully from his red rimmed eyes. And when he'd held that trembling little body racked with coughs to his chest, hot tears streaming silently down his own cheeks, Edward thought his heart was shattering into a million pieces.
Anna crying was a rare sight. Her shedding tears scarcely occurred anymore, stopping once she'd gotten out of the toddler stage. Now, if she ever ended up with a scraped knee or bloody nose, she held her tears at bay and gritted her teeth, considering herself a big kid, and, according to Anna, big kids never cried.
"It's okay," she said, smiling slightly as more tears rolled down her cheeks, then quickly wiping them away with the back of her arm. "Really." She sniffled again, then laughed. "I'm turning into a crybaby."
If she'd hoped her father would agree and say 'Yeah, you are', she was wrong. Instead, Edward wrapped his arms around her little body, his head on her shoulder as he fought the choking feeling in his throat and tried to ignore the burning sensation in his eyes.
She's so strong, he thought forlornly as he felt her arms twine around his neck, then felt her bury her face in his shoulder as she hiccupped through her remaining tears.
"It's okay. Daddy's gonna stay home a lot more now." Being as choked up as he was, he honestly wasn't sure how he'd managed to get that out in such a strong, sure voice.
Edward Elric wasn't the type of person to openly cry. Most men aren't. Even at a young age, he'd always kept himself from crying until his tears finally got the better of him. He could only think of a handful of times he'd cried when he was young; after Winry's parents had died, he'd run into his mother and wrapped his arms around her warm, familiar form. He remembered crying the night she died, holding Alphonse to his body, trying to give comfort and receive it at the same time. The tears he'd shed the night of the failed Human Transmutation, when we was left bleeding and alone, when he brought Al's soul back. He cried during his automail surgery when he was so afraid his little brother would hate him for putting him in that hollow suit of armor, cried into the night when they'd found what was left of that little girl Nina he'd grown to love like a sister. He somewhat remembered tears running down his cheeks after nearly being killed by a psychotic butcher, the pain of losing Nina still fresh on his heart.
Yet, there were the other times he cried, more recent than others. He cried the first night he'd shared with Al in two years on the other side of The Gate, the brothers holding each other as tears streamed down their cheeks, finding comfort and home. He remembered his eyes getting moist after three years of trying to get return home a second time, only to be greeted by another big hug from Winry. He'd wept on the train the first time he and Al left their families to go to Central for alchemical information, the image of his toddlers crying, clinging to him as he left. Alphonse hadn't had any children yet and it would be another two years until his first was born, so even as he tried to tell Ed it was only one week, he had still cried. He cried the night he'd held his little boy to his aching chest, hating the way the sickness caused his baby so much pain. He cried the afternoon Winry lost the baby and the doctor said they couldn't have anymore children, cried the first time he held his nephew who was born four months after he lost his youngest son.
And now, here was another time he'd have to add to the list as he realized his cheeks were damp. Even as he held his little girl to his own slightly shuddering body, somehow he felt himself smile as he shakily kept repeating it would be alright over and over.
And it would be. He would make sure of that.
When Winry walked outside, the first thing she noticed was how much colder it had gotten in the last few hours, signifying the fast approaching winter. She pulled her coat around her body tighter, then looked across the yard to see Trishen sitting on the ground, knees drawn to his chin as the cold wind shook his thin body.
"You know," she started, "you really shouldn't provoke her." Trishen jumped around, surprise apparent on his face. He looks sleepy, Winry thought affectionately as she walked over, then sat down next to him, wrapping her arm around his small frame. He cuddled into her side, resting his head against her body, eyes closed.
"It's funny though," he mumbled. "Her reaction."
"Don't you think you went a little too far?"
"All I did was say she was small!" he said, crossing his arms as he pouted. "And she is. She's little. Tiny."
"Have you ever thought about how she feels when you make fun of her? You know she's sensitive about her size." Like someone else I know. She watched as her son contemplated this, his brow furrowed. A look of deep thought was apparent in her son's eyes, reminding her of Edward.
"Not really, no," he said quietly. "I just do it cause it's funny."
Winry remembered how she used to torment Ed about his height as well. Once, she remembered telling him she wouldn't kiss a boy shorter than her, and just to prove her wrong, Edward had stood up on his tip toes, hands fisted tight and eyes closed firmly as he kissed her, full on the mouth. After beating him with her toy wrench and running away as she wiped her mouth, she had realized, face glowing light pink, kissing Ed ward actually kind of nice.
Of course, both were around six then, and when replayed the memory to him one night not long after they'd gotten married, he quickly denied it, but Winry didn't miss his flushed cheeks.
Winry's fingers glided though her son's short blonde hair, massaging his scalp. "Well, how do you feel when those boys in her class pick on her?"
Trishen looked up at his mother, eyes wide with confusion. "I get mad. So?"
"So, why do you get mad?"
"I dunno. I guess it's cause they make her upset," he stated truthfully, arms crossed over his drawn-up knees as he watched leaves rustle across the ground, the sun's light beginning to depart for the day.
"So how do you think you, her own brother, make her feel?" Oh, I'm good, she thought rather smugly.
"Sad?" he asked, Winry noticing the guilt that had crept into his voice, along with understanding, at her words. "And angry?"
"You got it."
"So, I need to apologize, right? Then she won't be sad anymore?"
"I think so, just make sure you mean it. Oh, yeah. How's your knee?"
Trishen grinned at that. "Feels like I won't ever walk again. She kicks hard."
Winry smiled and kissed her son's forehead. "Of course she does. My kids are touch."
The sound of the front door opening caught their attention, and after they'd turned, they saw Edward holding Anna's hand and they slowly descended the steps from the porch. Winry and Trishen stood slowly; it took him a moment to gain his footing, and Winry noticed he was favoring his right leg. She kept her arm around his shoulders.
When they were about three feet away, Anna finally stopped, Edward behind her slightly. She kept her gaze down, shuffling her feet in the grass. Winry pushed softly on Trishen's back, then looked down and gave her son a reassuring smile. He nodded, then wobbly stepped forward.
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hey," Anna replied. Winry noted that she still sounded upset. "You called me small."
"I know. Sorry." Trishen stared at his feet, afraid to meet her gaze. His hands hung loosely at his sides, fingers bitten by the cold wind.
"Yeah. Me too… I mean, about kickin' you."
Leave it to Anna to avoid saying sorry, Winry thought. She watched as Ed nudged her gently, then as Anna finally looked up. Trishen followed suit, and both children gave each other crooked, nervous grins.
"Sorry," Anna managed to get out as she walked over, taking one of his hands, to which Trishen looked extremely surprised. He gazed at her, seeing the smile in her eyes. "C'mon. Let's go get Al and play some before dinner."
"Kay," he said, nodding as he held her hand tightly.
"Well," Winry said, feeling Edward come up behind her. "I think we did pretty good."
He nodded, his arms wrapping around her as their children ran back into the house. He kissed the side of her forehead softly. "Yeah, we did."
After dinner, Alphonse and Fae had taken their three home to bathe and put to bed, while Granny Pinako had remained at the oldest Elric's to help Winry clean up. Ed was in charge of baths that night, so after a splash fight that left him completely soaked, he changed into something dry and finally got both children to sleep after three different accounts from his and Al's adventures of when they were searching for the Philosopher's Stone.
Once Pinako had left, Winry flopped down on the couch and, since Ed didn't seen to be in a very talkative mood, began flipping though some automail magazines. She watched him over her magazine as he stared blankly at the floor, sitting on the other side of the room, something unusual; usually, he would plop down next to her. Several times, she found him watching her with what appeared to be a mixture of guilt and adoration in his eyes.
"Ed?" she asked, noting the way he jumped slightly at the resonance of her voice, sounding louder in the empty room than she'd meant it to. "You okay?"
"Huh?"
"You've been staring at me for a while now. It's like you're in another world."
"Sorry. Just spacin' out, I guess." She watched as her husband frowned at the wooden floor, body slouched over in his seat, elbows on knees, his face resting on his hands in a way that reminded her of someone about to pray.
It was almost eleven when Winry walked out of the bathroom and into their bedroom, her hair slightly damp from her shower. Having taken his shower first, Edward was propped up on his flesh arm, sprawled out on the bed, when she entered the room. Winry simply stood for a moment, gazing at her husband with odd fascination.
Edward was the hardest person in the world for her to figure out, he always had been. When they were younger, she'd often wondered how his mind functioned. Was it like a piece of machinery, gears and cogs, bolts, screws, and wires, constantly whirling like the automail she made for him? She'd often thought so. As teenagers, he'd always had a shield ready to throw up at a moment's notice, so that one second he would be open and laughing, eyes dancing with joyous light, reminding Winry of a different time long ago, and the next he was closed off from the world, a scowl marring his features, eyes hard with memories from the past, making him appear older than he really was and revealing just how much he'd seen in his fifteen years. After they'd gotten married, this occurred less often, but every now and then, usually after returning from a long assignment, she often noticed how quiet and reserved he became, eyes subdued as he contemplated thoughts he'd never reveal to Winry, still determined to protect her from the world's corruption.
"Look who's starin' now," she heard him say, bringing her back from her thoughts. He had a smirk on his face, though it didn't seem to completely reach his eyes. His long, sun colored hair, instead of being in its usual ponytail, now hung loosely down his back, hanging over his shoulders, the ends gently brushing against his ribs. He was shirtless, so Winry couldn't help but glance at his bare chest, noticing the scars that marred his solid body, but to her made him even more stunning, then at the automail arm she'd recently adjusted for him. She knew it made him uncomfortable when she stared at his automail too long because of the fact that he'd left five dark bruises on her shoulder their first time, and years later, he still hadn't let it go.
"Huh?" she asked quietly, reluctantly forcing her gaze away from his chest, only to lose herself in his stunning eyes as he watched her intently, her breath catching somewhere in her throat as she felt her stomach flip.
"I know it's me, but woman, you're makin' me nervous."
"Oh, sorry." She looked down, feeling herself blush. Why am I blushing? she thought irritably. I'm thirty years old, not sixteen.
Ed's eyes softened as he watched her, thinking her embarrassment to be extremely cute. "Get over here," he growled gently, his arm outstretched.
Winry walked to the bed, sinking into Edward's embrace as she felt him cover her legs with the blankets. She smiled as she felt him put his forehead against hers, a contempt sigh escaping his lips.
God, she loved him. She still found it hard to believe that she'd fallen in love almost fifteen years ago with this boy, this man, that was holding her in his arms now. After all, Edward had once been her short, cocky, ungrateful, bad tempered best friend.
Of course, Winry was bad tempered as well, but not to an extreme.
Now, though, everything was different with Ed. The cockiness had disappeared, making him a more humble person toward others. His temper was still around, though somewhat subdued, mostly thanks to their children, while he always remembered to thank Winry for his arm and leg after she'd pulled a few all nighters working on them. Although he was still short compared to most men, like his little brother, he had finally gotten taller than Winry, and that was all that really mattered. He was taller than her, so now, she was proud to say she was married to him, although she would have been proud even if he was still short.
She watched his face, so calm and at peace, felt his hands on her neck as he caressed her bare skin. He took a deep breath, then exhaled through his mouth; Winry faintly smelled spearmint on his soft breath.
She rested her head against the base of his thick neck, fingers dancing across his warm skin as she said, "You seemed sorta distant this afternoon." Immediately hating the way his eyebrows drew sharply together and the way he tensed under her touch, her fingers froze, then slowly resumed their stroking. Her other hand reached up to his face, fingers rubbing delicately against his cheek, then his tense brow. She hated to see him uptight and in pain, the way he kept things bottled up inside until he nearly burst. "Sorry," she tried to amend. "I should have left it alone."
"No. I was gonna tell you anyway." He unwrapped his arms from her body, and Winry nearly let out a small whine in complaint, but checked herself as she found her small hands being clasped in his much larger ones. He opened his eyes, staring intently at her, and Winry was surprised by the amount of pain in them.
"Ed?" she asked anxiously, watching him take several deep breaths, then pull his shoulders back. The grip on her hands tightened, and Winry could have sworn she felt a tremor run through his long fingers.
"I need to ask you a question, okay?"
"Okay," she replied, tension slightly creeping into her voice. She forced it away, then said, voice stronger, "Okay, go on."
Edward took a deep breath, then look Winry straight in the eye, hands gripping hers tightly. "Winry, why do you love me?"
The next few moments were made of bright lights and white stars as Ed lay on his back, head at the foot of the bed. A hard, metallic object shook in the abuser's hand while he stared at the ceiling in shock, trying not to loose consciousness.
Winry hadn't used the wrench in a while.
"What the hell? I ask you a question and you beat me? Ya know, beating your spouse isn't exactly a turn on!" he exclaimed, glaring fiercely at her as he rose into a sitting position. He sat directly in front of her, his fury and irritation suddenly fading when he saw the variety on emotion in her eyes: anger, shock, annoyance, but what really got him was the confused, wounded look he saw in those moon-reflected eyes. "Winry?"
"How…how can you even ask that, alchemy freak?" She shrieked, raising the wrench in her hand above Edward's head. Realizing she was shouting, Winry lowered her voice a few octaves as to not wake the kids, then forced herself to lower the wrench as well. "Why would you even ask that? Are you that stupid?"
"Don't call your husband stupid," he growled, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Hadn't he already had a conversation similar to this with Alphonse once long ago?
"It's not my fault you are! If you ask that question, then you're the world's biggest idiot. And even I'm really mad at you right now, what in the world makes you think I'd ever hate you?"
Edward's harsh façade suddenly diminished, leaving him with large, scared eyes filled with sorrow and despair. His shoulders sagged and he seemed to deflate right before Winry's eyes, leaving her mildly shocked. She was still pretty upset with him, but her anger quickly transformed into annoyance, and then was completely disappearing altogether. Whatever he was trying to say must have been really freaking him out.
"Ed?" she asked softly, to which he ignored her. "Edward, look at me." Whatever was wrong with him, Winry was determined to fix it. She watched as he slowly looked up, eyes darting from her hands to her eyes, then back down, flinching as she carefully touched his flesh hand, but not moving away from her. "Edward, tell me the truth; why would you think that?"
"Because," he began, rather shakily, "I don't understand you at all. I left and didn't see you for three years. And after that, I kept you at a distance, always hid things from you, like with your parents. I knew what had happened and I didn't tell you I'd known until years later, and by that time, you'd already found out!" he exclaimed, voice growing stronger with each confession, grim and filled with self-loathing. Winry held her hands in her lap, surprised and slightly scared of the Edward she hardly ever saw, the one without control. "And after I found out Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had been killed, I was a complete ass "
"Ed, lis-"
"I could have really hurt you!" he all but screamed, the anger apparent in his voice. But he wasn't angry at Winry. He was angry at himself, because he'd been too big a coward to face any of it until now.
"But you didn't," Winry softly tried to reason. She hoped that the kids hadn't been woken by the shouting, but luckily, both were heavy sleepers and the bedroom doors were closed. And she didn't have it in her heart to tell Edward to quiet down, not now.
It was like he hadn't even heard her say a thing. "And then I disappeared for two years, making you worry even more, and when I came back, I barely said anything to you! I didn't even say goodbye!" His fists clenching the bed sheets, Winry faintly hearing the sound of it rip under his right hand. His eyes were closed tightly and she noticed his whole frame was trembling, from fury or grief or both, she wasn't sure. "And then I'm gone for another three years, you don't hear from me at all, and when I finally get back, you act like it's all okay. You just hugged me and said you were happy I was home." He gave a self-deprecating laugh filled with anguish. "And now, all I ever do is leave to do research or help stop some deranged psychopath. I'm home for short periods of time, and all you ever do is nod and tell me 'it's okay'. I'm the reason we can't have anymore kids, the reason we lost the baby!"
Winry wanted to scream at him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, to make him realize that she'd let go of the pain he'd caused her years ago. But words wouldn't work; not with Ed, not with him like this.
Actions might, though.
Edward watched her, desperately trying to calm himself, but it wasn't working; he was too wound up and afraid and disgusted with himself. Voice raw, he asked, "Why don't you hate me? I've put you though so much crap, so tell me, how can you possibly love me?"
She didn't tell him. She showed him.
Winry's mouth crashed harshly into his, kissing him furiously, but with a gentler meaning behind her forceful actions. Edward froze completely, then weakly tried pushing her away, but to no avail. She heard a soft whimper and inaudible words escape his lips as he pulled away slightly, only to be vigorously kissed again, his body shuddering with his uneven breaths. Her hands went to his shoulders, then around his neck as she crawled into his lap, feeling his arms shake as they wrapped around her body. His lips trembled under hers as she deepened the kiss, one hand going to his hair. She tugged the golden strands gently, then felt two hands, one warm flesh, the other cold metal, enclose her face. He began kissing her back, pulling away only for painful intakes of breath, then attacking her lips with a hunger that burned through his entire body and soul. And as he did, Winry felt the pain he'd kept bottled up since his mother's death; all of his grief, sorrow, and hurt, he was pouring out into this kiss. His shoulders shook violently as they held each other, one seeking console while the other gave it willingly.
Edward finally pushed Winry back, but only so he could lean over her as she lay on the bed. He kissed her eyes, cheeks, nose, lips, everything he could get to. Winry held onto his quaking shoulders as she felt his lips move to her neck, then her jaw, then back to her neck. She suddenly realized that they were both trembling now as she held him tighter, leaning up to gently kiss his throat. She heard him gasp sharply, eyes glazed and face flushed as he tried to gain control over his body.
Soon enough, too soon, they began to wear down. Winry's arms loosely wound around Edward's waist as they took long breaths of precious air. Edward had finally stopped shaking, but now felt almost limp as he brushed some loose hair from Winry's face. She closed her eyes as his thumb ran over her lips, nose, and cheekbones, enjoying the sensation of his fingers on her skin, even as she felt the chilled automail gently stroke her throat. When she opened her eyes, she saw Edward watching her, his breathing still ragged. She touched his sweaty face, fingers brushing his damp bangs from his eyes as he placed his forehead against hers.
"Is that answer enough? I can tell you again if I need to," she said, words slightly taunting, breath coming in soft pants. Her fingers ran through his silky hair as he moved onto his side, careful of his automail leg. Winry turned onto her left side to gaze at him, seeing that the guilty emotions were still in his eyes, but now, they held a soft, almost contented light and…was it hope?
"Why?" he asked softly, cupping the side of her face gently. "Why me?" A small chuckle escaped her as she smiled at his expression, which reminded her of when they were small and he and Al had run into her house one afternoon, Ed's eyes wide as he'd exclaimed, "We can't find Mom!" Luckily, she'd just been at the neighbors, and once she'd confirmed she was safe and wasn't going anywhere, the brothers wouldn't let her out of their sight. Or, a much fonder memory for Winry, when he'd tried proposing to her as a child. He looked so helpless and lost, sad, yet hopeful.
As quickly as it had come, though, it was gone. He now looked slightly annoyed and hurt, his eyebrows drawing down over his eyes. "Why are you laughing at me?" he whined.
"It was your face," she said, kissing his nose. "You looked adorable." His eyes softened back to their previous state, that sad, nervous, little boy inside an adult's body that she'd fallen in love with years ago.
"Why me?" he repeated softly.
"Because, it's you," she said, smiling softly. "You, Ed, and I love you."
To this, he had no reply. It seemed so simple, yet he was at a loss. How could she simply love him because of who he was?
"Um, how do I explain this?" she said, seeing his confused look. "Okay. What kind of a person searches for a legendary stone for five years to restore their little brother to his original body? Who would give his own arm to attach his soul to a suit of armor to save his only family? Edward, you stayed in a different world for two years to save Al. Do you know what I call that person?"
"A big thinker?" he asked quietly, almost jokingly, as if he expected her to explode.
"No, silly," she gently replied, smiling in a way that took Edward's breath away. "I call them love in it's simplest form."
"Huh?" he asked, having lost her again. How was she being so confusingly calm after she'd hit him with that stupid wrench and kissed him until he could barely breathe?
She laughed softly. "You can understand the hardest alchemical equations, and what I'm saying is so simple, yet you have no idea what I mean, do you?"
"Not really," he replied sheepishly.
"Ed, you've sacrificed so much so the people you love most could have a better life. You became a dog of the military for Al, and you've always been watching out for me, ever since we were toddlers. You remember that little boy, Cole, from first grade? He broke the doll my parents got me from Central, and all of a sudden, you were there, hitting him as hard as you could with those tiny little fists.
"Not tiny," he said, smiling softly at the memory. "Or little."
"Not long after that was when you and Al made me that doll with alchemy." The one she still had, would always have, because it was, in her eyes, the best thing he had ever made with alchemy, and it had been made for her.
"The beginning of the end," he mumbled, eyes once more taking on that miserable puppy dog look.
She found herself gently rolling her eyes as she brushed some hair away from his face, moving closer so that their nose's touched. "No one would do what you've done unless it was out of love."
"I tired to bring Mom back out of selfishness," he said dejectedly.
"Because you loved her," Winry countered. "You didn't kill your mother, so don't think that. And let me tell you right now, you are not the reason we lost the baby."
"Winry "
"That happens, Ed. People go through that. You never really get over it, but you have to move on."
"If you were with someone else, you could have another baby. I can't give you that. When we were kids, you said you wanted tons of babies. Winry, two isn't tons." His voice shook with unshed tears just at the thought, and Winry sighed heavily before answering.
"Ed, I know that. Two is two. We have two beautiful children who are always gonna have out bad tempers, who are always gonna fight, and who are always gonna love each other, no matter how much they drive each other crazy. And I'm completely happy with the two children I love to death that we have.
"And I would never in a million years be with a man just because he could get me knocked up. That doesn't matter to me, and plus, it's shallow. If we don't have anymore kids, it's meant to be. And there's always adoption. If we adopted, I know we'd give that baby all the love in the world."
"But our baby…" he said miserably.
"I lost our baby because of some strange reason, Ed. Not you. You had nothing to do with that. Maybe I wasn't strong enough to carry another baby, I don't know."
"That's not true," Edward said fiercely, eyes suddenly burning in that protective way he had with her. "You're the strongest person I know." Winry smiled at his expression, the one she'd first seen when he'd told her and Granny he'd recover from automail surgery in a year, voice filled with conviction.
"See? If I'm not blaming myself, why should you?"
Edward closed his eyes, then blinked slowly, taking in her words. He was weak again, but he felt like a massive pressure had finally been lifted from his chest, taking the ache away from his heart he'd felt for so many years, making him strong at the same time.
She didn't blame him.
It wasn't his fault their baby died.
He felt Winry's hands on his abdomen, brushing soothingly against the taught muscles of his stomach. Covering her hands with his own made of flesh, simply staring, he was almost too afraid to look at her.
"Can you ever forgive me for all that I put you through?" he asked softly, gazing into her eyes tenderly.
She kissed his on the corner of the mouth, then smiled. "Edward, I forgave you years ago. You're a good person, so don't ever forget that, okay?"
At that, all the barriers he had ever put up crumbled. He was that weak little boy he'd been when his mother died, when his leg was ripped out from under him, when he realized that he was alone with the monster that he'd created, that his little brother was gone.
And with that barrier came the tears.
Eyes flooded, a choked sob broke from Edward's chest as he clung to Winry, quivering, hair plastered wet to his face as tears freely descended his cheeks. He repeated her name like a sacred prayer, breathy sobs escaping him as she held his shaking frame, her hands in his hair while she kissed his forehead, humming softly into his skin. His hands clutched at her, desperate to know she was real and that he wasn't dreaming and that this was real. Leaning up, he kissed her softly with trembling lips, savoring Winry's amazingly sweet taste merged with his own salty tears, hands gently cupping her face as she simply held him.
And that was all he'd ever really needed.
Eventually, his tears turned to small hiccups, then to sniffles, and finally, he just felt extremely tired from all the crying he'd been doing lately.
Winry held him close, waiting for him to open his eyes and look at her, but didn't rush him. She enjoyed holding Ed, just being able to give him the comfort she hadn't known how to when they were younger.
"Sorry," he whispered. "All it seems like I've done today is cry." He gave her a watery smile as he gazed at her apologetically, golden eyes swollen with tears. His face felt sticky and damp and gross, but he really didn't care.
"There's a crybaby in us all," Winry said softly, rubbing her thumb over his tear stained cheek. To her, at that moment, Edward had never looked so touchable, so human. With his hair disheveled, large eyes guiltless for once, and a gentle smile gracing his face, Winry realized that he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. The mixture of strength and weakness that made him Ed was so apparent now as he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly in his tender embrace.
"I love you," he mumbled into her skin, his nose against her collarbone. "So much. I love you so much."
"I know. I love you too."
Edward slept in Winry's arms for what seemed like forever, but it ended all to soon for his liking. He woke a little before dawn, the room still being dark, a soft light slowly entering as he turned to her, taking in her angelic features, soft, yet strong. Her arm was around his waist, her hand pressed into his side, the other lying softly on his stomach.
How does she put up with me? he thought, a smile on his face.
Because, silly, I love you, he could almost hear her say, her face open and sincere as she said the words fondly.
He sat up slightly, propping his body up on his automail arm, still gazing at his wife. His wife. When he was a teenager, he'd never imagined those words would be spoken about any woman, let alone Winry. He was broken, after all. But maybe that was something that drew him to this girl in the first place, the way she helped put him back together, the way she fixed him, saved him from himself. Sure, he'd had a childhood crush on her, but she was his best friend besides Alphonse. He'd never thought of her as anything more until their teenage years, and even then he'd denied it. It used to make him so furious how just seeing her smile could make him smile, or the way she looked at him made him blush. He still refused to believe he'd ever blushed at her, but he admitted he'd finally realized that he'd never really gotten over his crush.
And then, it turned into more than a crush. Edward liked her. He liked being with her, even when she threw wrenches at him. He liked the way she moved, how her hair swayed back and forth when she walked, her voice, the way it sounded when she said his name. Whether she was happy with him or ready to murder him for breaking his automail, as long as she said his name, that was all that mattered. Just being in her very presence made his heart feel so light and free he often thought he'd leave the ground, except for the fact that she was what kept him bound to earth.
And her eyes. That was what lost him every time. She could be in the middle of screaming her head off at him because he'd broken his arm or did something else that annoyed her, and he'd be staring at her like a complete idiot, unable to force his eyes away from her bright blue orbs, even as a wrench flew up out of nowhere and bashed into his skull. Only then would he come to his senses and start screaming back at her, only when he'd been freed from her intense gaze. He honestly didn't mind the yelling and hits he received at moments like this, but what really infuriated him was the way be became speechless whenever he looked at her.
Soon after, to his utter horror and confusion, he found himself blushing madly for reasons he couldn't understand, his face flooded with a strange, foreign heat. Blaming it on is adolescent hormones and the fact that she was a girl after all, Edward had gone through a phase where he couldn't even stand looking at her for more than a few seconds. It made him nervous and unsure, this feeling, because, despite being an alchemic genius, he was still a teenage guy. This feeling eased eventually, reduced to lightly stained cheeks, which emerged without reason whenever she was around him, like when she was sleeping, or working on his automail, or simply laughing at something he'd said or done. He loved her laugh.
What he hated, though, were her tears. It seemed like for every one that fell, so did a piece of his heart. He'd do anything to keep her from crying, to protect her; that was why he had never told her anything Al and he had done during their teenage years, because he was afraid he would hurt her. And he had hurt her. So many times, he couldn't even keep track any longer. He hated those tears that showed just how small and fragile she really was, and all he wanted to do was make her smile again, to never see those tears again.
That is, until he returned from the other side of The Gate. The first person he'd seen was Winry, gazing down at him, her voice thick with tears, eyes filled with the brilliant light that was love. He'd barely gotten her name out before she'd crushed him to her, holding him as she'd said 'welcome home', causing him to blush a light pink.
After that, she'd replaced his automail, and the last thing he'd told her was to hide. He didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself for that one. And all he had told Al to tell her was thanks, she made the best. He'd wanted to say more, to tell her about everything, the way seeing her made his heart grow to more than twice its normal size with some unknown emotion, but he couldn't. Not then, not when he thought he'd never see her again, because he wasn't sure what she did to make that sensation run through his veins.
But, three years later, he got his chance to when both him and Al made it back to Amestris, and again, Winry was right there waiting. From what she'd told him, she'd been on a trip to Central to visit with one of the automail mechanics there, when a hole had opened in the sky and a small plane had flown from it, crashing to the ground not far from her location. She once told him that she'd known it was him and Al, and without a second thought, had run toward the crash, only to find a group of murmuring people surrounding two weary looking men who were crouched on the ground near the wreckage.
All Ed truly remembered about their arrival was seeing Winry push her way through the crowd, eyes always on him as she ran forward. And that was when his eyes had started burning, when he'd realized just how much he had truly missed her with everything he was made of.
When she was finally in front of them, she'd sunk down to the ground, huge tears falling from her eyes as she'd thrown her arms around them, burying her face in Edward's shoulder as she'd asked if they were real, if they were home for good. Ed, voice thick with the tears he'd managed to force back, had told her yes.
And life began again.
That was around the time Edward finally started to realize he was in love with this crazy, beautiful, amazing automail geek of a woman. And she was a woman. She was twenty-one when they'd finally gotten back, him being just a few months shy of twenty-two. They were adults.
So, why did it take Edward almost a year to finally tell her face to face he loved her? Even he didn't know. Sick with nerves, he'd nearly ended up screaming it in her face so he could get the rejection over with. To his utter amazement and delight, she'd softly rapped him on the forehead with her palm, then smiled and said, "What took you so long, alchemy freak? I've been waiting for you to say that for years." She had smirked softly at him, then grinned as a few tears escaped her eyes. "I love you too."
Not long after, he'd proposed and they were married less than five months later, marking one of the most nerve wracking, incredible days of his life. Even if he forgot his own name one day, he knew he'd always remember the way Winry had shined as she walked gracefully toward him, her face glowing with radiant light, eyes only for him.
And, of course, he remembered the kiss, because it was the most amazing kiss he'd ever experienced. Counting the one they'd shared as children, Edward had only initiated a few of their kisses; too nervous and shy to try it often, it had been Winry who'd always began them. But eventually, he began to love kissing her, holding her hand, having her body against his.
And other stuff, of course.
Somehow, he'd even been able to put aside his pride and had invited General Mustang and his wife, the once Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, to the wedding. Worried at how Winry might feel, he'd been surprised when she'd told him she wanted them to be there, along with their small children, a girl of four named Alice and a small boy named Maes.
After they were married, Edward had decided it was time to make a home for his family, so, with Al's help and Winry's assistance, they had built an average-size white house, similar to the one the brothers had lived in growing up, yet having a new quality that was all Winry. There were a lot of blues and greens in the house, and, although she'd grudgingly agreed to it, even some red. Al was with them most of the time, but he often would stay with Granny Pinako or travel to Central, giving the newlywed couple more private moments.
Edward, no longer traveling all over the country and to other worlds, had become accustomed to a simpler way of living years ago. But with Alphonse back in his body and by his side, Winry in his arms every night as they slept in their bed, he'd finally realized what genuine peace was.
Three months after the wedding, Winry discovered she was pregnant.
For the most part, Edward was proud to say he'd remained calm, after the initial shock of becoming a dad so early had worn off. He had been terrified of the prospect that he'd be a failure as a father, to which Winry and Alphonse constantly reassured him, always there to calm his anxiety. The morning sickness was hell, so he could only imagine how bad it must have been for Winry. But he'd been at her side during the vomiting, the strange cravings, and the mood swings, somehow able to keep his temper when she randomly screamed at him and always there to hold her when she'd burst into tears.
It was all worth it, though, because nine months later, when Trishen was born, Ed and Winry became parents.
Edward still remembered holding his son for the first time, could still feel the sheer joy and terror that had run through his body.
"Is this right? I'm not hurting him, am I?" Edward asked nervously, watching the tiny bundle move around in his large hands, hands that could easily extinguish this new life with the wrong move. He sat beside the bed Winry lay in, too relieved that both she and the baby were alive and healthy to even stand.
"Ed, he's fine. Just watch the automail." Winry, her body relaxed for the first time in hours, was clearly exhausted. Pinako had just left the new family alone, giving them their moment, and Ed turned his gaze from the baby to its mother, seeing her flushed cheeks, damp forehead, the circles under her eyes from being in labor.
Edward leaned over, kissing her forehead. "You were great," he said, carefully watching his son's scrunched-up face, then tenderly smiled in beautiful fascination. "He looks like you."
"Funny. I expected him to look like you," she said, smiling at the somehow amusing scene. Edward, holding a baby. She laughed softly, grimaced slightly at the soreness in her abdomen, and forced herself to relax so Ed wouldn't freak out about her being in pain.
Edward, still leery about holding his baby, brushed his left hand's fingers with utmost gentleness against the baby's soft skin as his round eyes slowly opened, the exact shade of cerulean blue as Winry's. A small patch of blonde hair, lighter than his yet darker than Winry's, covered the crown of the baby's head. As he watched his son gaze at him with sleepy, newborn eyes, Edward stared in precious wonder at this new life he'd helped create.
"We still need to name him," Winry said softly, pulling him from his admiring.
"Do you wanna name him after your dad?"
"No, it's kinda painful. Makes me think of Dad too much. Plus, I never really liked the name Urey. Donathan?"
"You aren't naming my son that." he replied, grinning, but dead serious.
Winry smirked. Her eyes slowly filled with light, her smile soft as she said, "Trishen," her voice almost caressing the name.
"Trishen?"
"Yeah. It's got part of your mom's name in it, but not too much. Plus, it sounds kinda like Tristan."
Edward stared down into the small face again, only to be greeted with an extremely loud wail, signaling it was time for the baby to be fed.
He just had to gain her lungs, he thought somewhat fondly as he handed the baby over, then watched his wife and son as she breastfed him.
He grinned. "Trishen's a good name," he said, gazing contently at the two.
To Ed, that seemed like forever ago, when it had only been seven years. He remembered watching as Trishan first started off lying on his back, then as he learned to sit up on his own, then came crawling, and finally to the first time he'd walked across the floor, legs wobbling like a newborn colt as he'd placed him arms out to balance himself. He'd continued toward Edward, only to fall softly to the floor in front of him, a buoyant grin spread across his chubby face as he'd laughed, voice pure and jovial, reaching for his father with grasping hands. He'd only taken four steps that day, but to Edward, those steps were so much more.
By the time Trishen was eighteen months, having just learned to say 'ball', but pronouncing it 'baw', Winry had discovered she was pregnant a second time. Edward had been more confident in his parenting skills by this time, apparently having done a fair job with Trishen so far, since he wasn't missing any fingers or toes or other appendages.
While Winry was in the first stages of labor, Ed had sat with Al and his wife of five months, Fae, his son sitting quietly in his lap, both eyeing the door nervously until Pinako had finally called him in. An hour later, Anna had been born, marking another of Edward's favorite moments.
One thing he had liked a little bit more about their second child was that she didn't cry often like Trishen had, giving him more time to sleep. The downside was that she ended up being so lively and plundersome once she began to grow that he was always running after her. And when she did cry, she was loud.
In other words, just like her father.
When Anna wasn't quite a year old and Trishen was just a little over two, Edward would often wander to the nursery before daybreak to find Trishen sound asleep, curled up in a tight little ball, his shirt always pulled up above his tummy; smiling crookedly at the habit his son had picked up from him, Edward would straighten his shirt, then would always lean over and kiss his forehead and cheeks, enjoying the sound of the little boy's gentle breathing. After he'd spent a few moments with Trishen, he would move to Anna's crib, only to find her wide awake, eyes bright as she gazed fondly up at him, her stubby arms reaching for him to hold her. He would gently pick her up and brush her nose with his, then wince as she grabbed his still-loose hair. He usually would grab her a bottle of milk (he couldn't believe his children actually liked the foul liquid, but Winry had explained almost all babies did like milk) and they'd sit together outside on the porch until the sun finally rose, him listening to her baby babble as she played with his automail arm, surprisingly fascinated by it.
Edward had taken for granted all of the blessings he'd been given, remaining a State Alchemist, mainly for the research funds and for the books he found in libraries. Luckily, he'd never gone to war, but he'd often been called to Central for business or to give the military backup, leaving Winry behind with two young babies.
That was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, watching both children wave at him from the train station, their eyes flooded with sparkling tears.
And then, around the same time Fae had become pregnant with Aldoss, Winry had learned she was pregnant with their third child. She's been surprised at how excited Edward was, no longer nervous like with their previous two. Trishen, having just recently turned four, was now in his own room, which left Anna to share the nursery with the new baby. Getting a crib and blankets set up, Edward and Winry had even repainted the room a pale green over its original light yellow color, just because they'd wanted to.
Everything seemed fine until they made a trip to Central in the winter. Edward was supposed to meet with Führer Mustang and a few other higher ups, while Winry came in search of new automail equipment. Al had remained home due to the fact that Fae had been sick recently, while the children were staying with Pinako.
Edward could still remember Winry's moan as she collapsed on one of the many streets of the city. He had carefully picked her up, only to hear her groan, her body feverously warm, and to his horror, blood running down her legs, quickly spreading across the stone walkway.
After they'd gotten to the hospital and an emergency C-section had been performed, the couple had been told that delivering their baby was the only way to save Winry's life, and unfortunately, their son hadn't been far enough along to survive, dying shortly after birth. It had also been discovered that Edward was incapable of fathering anymore children, possibly the cause of Winry's early labor.
But Edward had understood the truth of the words the doctor didn't say: it was because of his incapability of fathering a child that this one, this innocent little baby who had never experienced life, would never experience life, died.
He didn't remember much else from that day, only holding Winry as they both cried, but apparently, he'd called Alphonse and Pinako, who'd come on the next train. When the brothers had met, they'd tackled each other, Alphonse crying, Edward on the verge of loosing it again and breaking down at the train station.
The next few months were miserable and filled with pain. Both had tried to put on brave faces as they faced their two children, but rarely gave any genuine smiles. Desperate, Alphonse had contacted Sig Curtis, his and Ed's late alchemy teacher's husband, in hopes that he could help the two recover.
Edward hadn't paid much mind to Sig's words, lost in a completely different world, while Winry had finally realized she was hurting the people she loved and that she wasn't being the mother her children needed. After that day, she began smiling more, and soon enough, she was almost completely back to her old self.
It wasn't until Aldoss was born four months after he lost his own son that Edward finally began to recover. He remembered holding that tiny body, tears in his eyes as he smiled down into the same gray optics the baby had gained from Ed's younger bother.
Edward had carried so much guilt for years, since he was a child, and all it had taken was one night with Winry for him to finally let it go.
He'd made mistakes, everyone did. And he'd paid for them. He still wondered how Winry ever fell in love with him, but he was more thankful for it than words could describe. He finally accepted that it wasn't just him who'd created the homunculus, Sloth, almost twenty years ago, but also Al, who took responsibility for his action. It wasn't him that killed their baby.
By now, Edward had carefully moved from the bed as to not wake Winry and had slid into some long pants to help fight the morning chill, though deciding to remain shirtless, somehow still able to feel Winry's touch on his bare skin. He sat in the rocking chair they'd kept in their room for years, watching the morning light filter in through the window as it lit her still sleeping form.
As he watched his wife, he thought back to all the times he'd left the past few years on missions. He saw Anna's tear-streaked face as she faked a smile, telling him that it was okay. He thought about Winry, always pushing him forward, never holding back. He loved her for that.
And as the sun lightened the dark, autumn chilled room, he felt his world brighten tremendously as warmth filled his entire body.
Grinning softly, almost a smirk, yet not quite, he knew what he was going to do.
Now, all he had to do was wait for Mustang to get to work.