Title: Welcome Home
Author: vanillavinegar
Rating: T (for language and suggestive scenes between a married couple)
Summary: Ed's wife isn't waiting for him at the train station. Naturally, he panics.
Warnings: SPOILERS for the end of the manga/Brotherhood, fluff
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and all associated characters, settings, etc., belong to Hiromu Arakawa-san. The only profit I make from this work of fiction is my own satisfaction and, possibly, the enjoyment of others.
Author's Notes: This has seriously been under revision for months. I'm really just glad to be done with it. ^_^; Happy Valentine's Day!
Write a review, get a response from the author – promise! :)
Ed was already frowning even before the train stopped, still in a foul mood from his unexpected trip to the capital. Stupid bastard wanted to lead the country so bad, why's he need to keep calling me up there? he thought fiercely. I'm retired, as I've told Fuhrer Moron enough times. No, I don't want to know what jobs are available for a person with my 'talents and knowledge' – no, I don't want to run for office, what the hell? Does he not understand what 'I want to go back home to my wife' means? Can't he run his own country by himself? All that work getting to the top and now he needs a fucking baby-sitter…!
Ed hadn't really minded running to Central to advise Mustang the first couple of times – secretly he was rather flattered that the man sought his opinion, even if he would have rather swallowed his pocketwatch whole than admit it. But, dammit, enough is enough! And Rush Valley wasn't nearly so close to Central as Risembool, as the bastard knew very well, and what with the shop being still so new… It had been very hard for him to leave, harder still to stay in Central an entire week, and rather than being pleased at returning, he was just irritated it had taken him so long to come home.
Winry had been reluctant for him to leave, too – at least, that's what he thought her quiet, troubled behavior at the station had meant. He hoped she wasn't still worrying over whether he minded moving to Rush Valley.
She had been very uncertain when she first suggested it, months ago, and though he did not exactly have fond memories of the town, he had been enthusiastic about the move. After all, one automail shop in Risembool was more than enough, but Rush Valley could never have too many. And it gave Winry the chance of being right at the forefront of her field, rubbing shoulders with the best as she worked, still trying to improve her craft. Ed, of course, could do what he did – primarily independent researching, with occasional bouts of counseling Mustang and other top officials – from anywhere. Except when Mustang called him to Central.
Which was why he was now jumping down onto the platform at Rush Valley, shooting one last glare at the train for good measure. Maybe it would take some of his ill will back to Central and the bastard would be less inclined to summon him there for such trivial matters as running a government when Winry's shop was only six months old and still finding its feet among all the competition in the hometown of automail.
The first thing that told him something was off was the absence of his wife. That brought him up short when he noticed, making him stop and look around more carefully, frown deepening. Had she forgotten his train? He had told her the time he'd be arriving, hadn't he?
When it became obvious that Winry was not suddenly going to appear from beneath a bench, a twinge of worry touched his heart, but Ed shook it away. She had probably got caught up with a customer or something. She was still too new to shut the store just to meet him. There were a dozen possible, even plausible reasons. Still, he was uneasy as he shouldered his bag, making his way out of the station and trotting down the street.
Winry's store – technically they held the deed to both shop and their second-floor apartment jointly, but he always thought of the shop itself as hers – was not the biggest or the busiest in the town, yet her reputation had not dimmed from being away for several years. She was doing very well, and Ed couldn't have been prouder. So when he saw the lack of customers jostling for entrance into the door and noticed the sign turned to 'CLOSED', he felt the faint stirrings of concern flare into outright panic.
There's no reason for her to close the store. Something has to be wrong, his thoughts pounded furiously as he broke into a jog. And why wasn't she at the station?
He slammed through the front door, dropping his bag on the floor and sprinting up the stairs like a man pursued. "Winry!" he shouted as he reached the landing and barreled into the first door on the right, their bedroom, coattails fluttering around him.
She bolted upright from where she had been lying on the bed – Why was she lying down? Was she sleeping? In the middle of the day? She must be sick – eyes wide and confused. "Ed?" she asked, sounding bewildered. "What are you doing back early?"
He halted. "It's Wednesday," he said carefully. She blinked. "The day my train was coming in? The day I told you about over the phone?"
Her mouth dropped. "I thought – is it really – I must have – oh," she finally settled, brows furrowing, her cheeks reddening. She looked embarrassed, but Ed paid more attention to the dark circles under her eyes, the paleness of her skin that the blush only served to emphasize. Had she changed so much in a week? Or had she been like this before he left and only the time away had allowed him to notice?
His heart beat almost painfully fast in his chest. It wasn't like her to forget things like this. Or to be napping when she could be beating happily away at a sheet of metal or giving someone a tune-up. Or to look so ill – in fact, Rush Valley always made her look and feel more energetic than ever, as he had been pleased to discover when they first moved to the city.
"What's wrong?" he asked urgently, stepping toward her with one hand raised. Sudden images of his mother dropping things when she was usually so composed, tripping when she was always so graceful, falling asleep when she was typically so alert – and finally giving in to the sickness that had shortened her life when she had always been so healthy – assaulted his mind. Ed shook his head to clear it, his outreached hand clenching into a fist. He wouldn't let Winry die, too. "Are you sick? Do you need to go to the doctor?"
"I'm not – Ed!" she exclaimed as he loomed over her, one hand feeling for a fever. She brushed it away and he bent to peer into her eyes worriedly, reaching out for her wrist and checking her pulse.
"Do you feel nauseous? Have you been sneezing or coughing? What about—"
"Ed!" she shouted, pulling her hands from his grasp and placing them on either side of his face, stilling him. "Calm down." When he moved as if to speak, she slid one hand down to cover his mouth. "No talking. Listen to me." Ed's mouth twitched unhappily beneath her palm but he stayed quiet. "Good." She hesitated, then said with obvious reluctance, "You might want to sit down for this." She patted the space next to her on the bed.
Ed's heart lurched as he obeyed her. His mind seemed full of screaming white noise. He couldn't have uttered a syllable had he wanted to as he sat, eyes locked on her face.
Winry huffed out an irritable breath, making her bangs flutter briefly. "I wanted to tell you this… differently," she muttered, and he swallowed agonizingly. What's the matter with her? Please, not Winry, not— "I'm pregnant," she said loudly, obviously recognizing the panic in his eyes.
All the thoughts swarming in Ed's brain crashed together and, for a moment, the words didn't make any sense. He gaped at her. "You – what?"
The corners of Winry's mouth quirked as though she were fighting back a smile. "I am pregnant." When he didn't say anything, she elaborated, "Expecting. With child. Going to have a baby."
"My baby?" he asked, wonderingly.
She did smile, then, rolling her eyes. "Of course your baby, Ed, who else's would it be?"
"A baby," he repeated slowly. His mind tentatively began to work again. "You're going to have a baby. My baby. Our baby. Winry!" he suddenly exclaimed, eyes the size of dinner plates. "You – we're – a baby! Together!"
"Yes, Ed." She pursed her lips, somehow managing to retain her grin. "Well, I'll actually be doing all the work, but I suppose you can take a bit of the credit."
Ed didn't really hear her as he continued to process this new information. "A baby," he said again, face stretching into a wide smile. "I – how do you – did you go to the doctor?"
"Yesterday," Winry replied, nodding. "Paninya went with me." She put a hand on her stomach, eyes gentling. "About the beginning of spring, she said."
"And you're – I mean, you're okay and everything? And – and the baby?"
"Both fine. I was just a little more tired than normal this morning and I didn't have any customers scheduled after lunch, so I was going to rest before you got here – tomorrow, as I thought." She grimaced. "I can't believe I mixed up the days! I hope the next seven months aren't going to be like this." Still smiling, Ed leaned forward to embrace her carefully. She pulled him closer. "I'm not made of glass, Ed."
He chuckled slightly into her hair, reassured by the strength in her arms.
She tipped her head back to peer up at him, suddenly worrying at her bottom lip. "So, you're – you don't mind? You're all right with—" His mouth on hers cut her off, and she returned the kiss with interest.
"More than all right," he whispered huskily when they broke apart. "This is amazing. You're amazing." He combed his fingers through her hair slowly, and Winry smiled, clearly remembering his words. She leaned forward to kiss him again, and he quickly remembered that it had been a week since he'd seen her as the kiss became deeper, warmer.
She tugged his coat off his shoulders, eyes bright. "Welcome home, Ed."
They didn't speak for several more minutes, mouths otherwise occupied, before a thought popped into his brain, making him draw back. "Wait, we can still do this, right? I mean, it's not gonna hurt you or—"
"Ed."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
"Yes, dea—mmmph."
THE END
