Title: Unconditional
Summary: It is the first anniversary of Winry parents death. Al hopes he can make her smile, since such a shining, lovely soul should never know suffering so horrible. AlWinry Pre-FMA
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.
A/N: I'm not sure when Winry's parents died -- I think it was when she was six? Sorry if I got the age wrong. Oh, and PLEASE REVIEW WHEN YOU'VE FINISHED.
IIIII
To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. To just give, that takes courage, because we don't want to fall on our faces or leave ourselves open to hurt - Madonna
IIIII
Six year old Al doesn't have the cognitive ability to understand the pain that accompanies the death of not only one parent, but both. He can wish all he wants that he has the competence to be able to take Winry's pain away with words but it isn't that simple. Even after a year the pain is raw, and she still is upset at the fact Ed and Al still has their mother. For this reason Al no longer gripes over not having a father readily available - she'll only yell at him as she did before.
It isn't as though she wants them to be orphans as she is. She just wishes she could have her parents back, so they would be even, and so she won't feel this terrible longing when she see's Trisha Elric play with her sons.
What Al wishes is for her to smile. He tries every day, especially on the anniversary of their death, but it's only a phantom of a smile. He remembers when she used to smile and how pretty she looked. She's still very pretty; he's still enthralled by the way she moves, the way her dresses fan out from her knees and bounce every time she twirls. He especially loves the way she grasps his hand, her warm palm touching his that sends a warm tingle throughout his body.
She always takes the initiative to hold his hand. Today, on the anniversary of her parents' deaths, he makes a bold decision. He's going to take the initiative this time.
He waits outside of her house, a shy smile on his face when Winry comes outside. She's donned in her best dress - the light yellow one with the ruffled fringes - and a large white hat protecting her eyes from the sizzling sun.
"Hey, Al," Winry acknowledges him but it's no more than that. She doesn't have much of a greeting in her today.
The six year old recognizes the pain in her eyes. When he takes a closer look he sees they have a glassy look (has she been crying?) and he wonders if he should extend his invitation or not. Edward has told him not to bother her today but who really wants to be alone on a day like this?
Who would wish to be alone on the anniversary of their parents' death? Somewhere, deep inside, he knows she's aching. He wants to remedy this. He wants to do something.
Even if she gets mad, tells him to leave her alone, he doesn't care. Al's willing to take this chance.
It shows how dedicated he is to her. How much he cherishes her.
"Are you going to their grave, Winry?" he asks just above a whisper.
She nods solemnly.
"Do . . . do you want . . . me to come with you?" Al is hesitant to ask. He doesn't want Winry to be angry with him but he's going to open the door anyway.
Winry stares at him for a moment as though he's speaking another language, but then she shrugs sadly. "I might cry," she warns.
"It's okay to cry," He tells her.
The blonde begins to walk the path, not addressing what he said, and he follows obediently behind her. Al isn't sure what he's supposed to say to comfort her, there most likely isn't anything, so he decides it's best to keep his mouth shut. Instead he takes in the lovely view of the fields, watching children play with their parents, with their father, and he absentmindedly wonders where his father is right now.
Should he grieve like Winry is right now for him? Edward's words of "He's dead to me!" echo in his mind, giving him more reason to mourn over a makeshift grave.
Except he clings to the sliver of hope that he will come back. This hope is only hanging by a thread, and it has no support.
Al snaps out of his thoughts when he notices wet drops in the sand. It isn't raining, he thinks to himself. So . . . ?
Winry rubs at her face to hide her shame and it clicks. So he takes the initiative in this moment and grabs her hand. He still keeps his other hand behind his back, the one holding three sunflowers.
The girl grasps his hand tightly for reassurance. Her smile is tiny but it is a smile nonetheless and Al takes pride in being its cause. Even so, he blushes slightly.
The rest of the walk consists of silence but the hands remain connected at all times. Winry needs the comfort of knowing someone is there for her and Al needs to know if he is doing the right thing.
When they arrive at the graves Winry cries silent tears. She isn't wracked with sobs but the grief she feels in her heart is telling her she should be crying out. For this conflict her grip on Al's hand becomes so tight he might lose circulation but he doesn't let her know this.
"I miss them," she whispers.
"I know how you feel," is the first thing to come out of his mouth and he realizes he's done it again. He's compared his father's disappearance with her parents death. So he flinches, waiting for the anger to come, but after a moment he notices she's caught up in her sorrow too much to even register his comment. So instead he tries to amend himself with a humble, "You look pretty in your dress today."
Winry snaps her gaze to him. "What?"
"I-I said, um, that you look pretty . . . " He trails off, trying to look at anything except her face.
Winry snatches her hand away. "My parents are dead and all you can say is that I look pretty?"
"I'm sorry," He immediately says. "I'm sorry, Winry, I just, um, thought it'd make you feel better."
"Well it doesn't," she hisses and stares back down at her mother and father's graves.
Al feels awful but he honestly thought it would at least make her smile again. He hates to see that frown so prominent on her usually light-hearted face. He doesn't dare open his mouth again in case he makes another mistake. He denies himself the chance to look saddened by her harshness. Al knows she wouldn't act this way if the stress wasn't so soul crushing. Only under duress does Winry snap at him with such bitterness.
After a couple minutes Winry says out of the blue, "I'm sorry, Al."
"Huh?"
"I didn't mean it," she says. "I'm just upset and I was mean to you. I'm sorry."
He knows he had mentally prepared himself for fury, but he hadn't anticipated any apologies, so this is why all he can muster is a confused, "Oh."
"I know you feel like your dad is dead," Winry says. "He might come back, though."
"Yeah." He doesn't like to admit it but he lost that wish a while ago. Even the sliver of hope is gone. "I'm sorry, too."
"For what?"
"Your parents."
"You had nothing to do with it. You shouldn't be sorry," she tells him. "But thanks anyway."
Al brings out the flowers he's been hiding behind his back and Winry's eyes grow wide. He places one on each grave and tears are afresh in her blue eyes. She wishes she had the idea to bring flowers to her parents but in the dizzy of memories, both good and bad, she couldn't think straight enough to even eat breakfast this morning. It touches her so that Al thought of her enough to bring flowers for her parents.
"Thank you," she whispers. She rubs the tears out of her eyes and notices Al's standing here, kneading the ground his one shoe as though nervous, with a single sunflower in his hand. "You've got an extra."
"I, well, um, I do," He stammers. He puts his head down to stare at the ground as he holds out the flower. He says as quickly as he can, "I got three flowers so I could put two on the graves, but this one is for you. I just thought it'd make you happy."
"A flower? For me?" She's astounded as she takes it in her hands. Winry smells it, enjoying the aroma, and for reasons she can't even fathom she starts to cry again.
He's always looking out for me, she thinks through her tears. He's always trying to make me feel better, even when I'm mean to him.
Al's alarmed by this and looks up, stuttering out a new apology, but she ignores his words and leaps at him for a hug. The seven year old buries her head into the crook of his neck and lets herself cry all of the heart wrenching sobs she's been holding back.
"I'm sorry, Winry, did I make you cry? If you don't like sunflowers I can go get a different one."
"No, no," Winry says as she lets him go. "It's wonderful."
"Then why-"
She interrupts him by kissing him on his forehead. Al's train of thought stops and his cheeks turn a very visible red. He searches for words in his mind but it's cluttered at the moment with "ohmygoshwinryhuggedandkissedme".Winry laughs at his stunned look and takes his hand in hers, sending the beloved tingly feeling throughout him again.
"I didn't think I'd smile and mean it today," she thinks aloud.
"I'm glad," comments Al.
As they walk away from the graves he asks, "Are you gonna' be okay, Winry?"
Winry takes a moment to think over her current life. She has Aunt Pinako, who's taking very well care of her, and she has Al, Edward, and Trisha Elric to look forward to seeing every day. Even though Al and Ed's mother might not be hers, she's been a true help to Winry, and so she looks up to the woman. She also has her dog Den who gives her unconditional love. And even though her parents aren't among the living, she has a hunch they're looking down on her from the heavens, wishing her the best.
Not to mention that Al is slowly becoming the closest person to her heart.
With a happiness she hasn't felt in a long time she replies, "Yeah, I'll be fine."