Title: 13, Misfortune
Wordcount: 1589
Rating: PG/T
Warnings: future!fic, some spoilers
Notes: I apparently have a habit of writing things that are so cute, Regent gets instant diabetes.


Guilty.

That's what it was. He felt guilty.

Ed groaned and massaged his temple with his left hand. He set his pile of notes down on the surface of Winry's desk, unable to focus and in dire need of a distraction. Something, anything. This wasn't as bad as the panic attack he'd suffered almost three months ago, but it was bad enough to drive him moderately insane.

He was a bastard. Now, this was something he'd known for ages. He charged in, head-first, with little or no thought for the consequences. Because of that, Al lost his body and Ed lost his leg, then his arm to keep Al's soul. He abandoned Winry, then repeatedly kept putting her and Al in danger. Al, at least, could fight, therefore enabling him defend himself and his brother. Winry, however wasn't trained. She was also entirely too trusting. Already a prime target for the enemies he'd created since he got his State Alchemist's license, Winry was even more appealing to those who really wanted to get under Ed's skin. Case in point, Kimblee. Ed hated to think what would've happened if he hadn't warned her. That being said, he was determined to get out of the military as soon as possible, come home, and make amends for that much of his bastardry.

That wasn't what bothered him though. As much of a bastard as he was for the aforementioned details, it didn't compare to this new level he'd ascended to.

Winry was miserable for another reason, and while she technically - technically - had a hand in it, it was his fault. It was completely, utterly, thoroughly, and entirely his fault.

"What are you moping around for?"

Ed jumped, Winry's voice catching him by surprise. He'd forgotten that he was in her room again, and that she came up here at multiple points in the day for some reason or other. Turning around in the chair, he looked her up and down, noting how tired and sick she looked, and felt like saving her the trouble of castrating him by doing it himself.

He was such a bastard.

It seemed as if she knew just what he was thinking, because she flashed him a small, reassuring smile. "Ed," she began, quickly covering the short distance from her doorway to where he sat at the desk to tug playfully at his long bangs, "it's okay. Stop worrying." When Ed only frowned, she reached for his hand, encouraging him to stand just long enough to walk over to her bed (which was practically their bed now, seeing as he never slept in his anymore). Once there, she made him sit next to her on the mattress, where she wrapped left arm around him, reaching for his left hand - his flesh hand - with her right, and gently squeezed. Ed would've laughed at what he had a feeling was an attempt to lecture him if not for the fact that he was sick with guilt and fully aware of the wrench in the pocket of her welder's apron. Even so, he carefully wrapped his automail arm around her waist and rested his cheek against the side of her head.

Winry sighed softly before nuzzling his jaw. "You shouldn't worry so much," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. She playfully bit his neck when he grunted unhappily. "If I could make you carry the baby and give birth to it, I would." Her tone was cajoling, as was the ornery grin that flashed across her face for but a moment in an attempt to at least look a little happier.

Ed finally smiled a little, though it was a sad smile, not a happy one. He wasn't in the mood for teasing. "And I would do it," he said with conviction, "I would do it so you wouldn't have to." He pulled his hand free of hers so as to gently rest it over her tummy. Her hand returned to rest over his, and he looked up from their hands to look her in the eye. It hurt him so much to hurt her in any way, and even though he was excited about the baby and couldn't wait to be a father, he felt that by getting her pregnant, he'd done more to hurt her than his extended absences.

She shook her head, her soft, reassuring smile still in place. "No, Ed. I want to." She lay back on the mattress, pulling him with her. Ed followed, also lying on his back, and Winry rolled over onto her side to pillow her head on his shoulder connector and cuddle close against him. "You have no idea how happy I was when I found out I was pregnant, and I'm still happy." She nuzzled his jaw and neck. "Now stop worrying. It's not your fault."

Silence fell between them, then, and lasted several long moments while they lay there. The mood shifted, too, gradually becoming lighter and lighter.

The silence was broken, though, when Ed coughed, something he only did when he'd been thinking about things that were very out-of-character for him. "I've been thinking," he began, sounding cautious and unsure, and stopped, knowing that Winry's curiosity would be piqued and she would want to know what was on his mind.

Ed couldn't see the look on Winry's face,, but he felt her head shift position on his shoulder to look up at him. "Hmm?"

He cleared his throat. "I know this will sound crazy, coming from me, but I've been thinking that if," here, Ed paused for a moment to order his thoughts and muster the guts to even admit he'd been thinking along these lines before continuing, "if there really is such a thing as salvation, you and the baby are it."

Winry lay motionless for a moment, then sat up to regard him with a curious look on her face. Ed pointedly avoided looking at her, even when Winry suddenly looked down at her tummy with a soft smile. "Salvation, huh?" she mused.

Ed cleared his throat in slight agitation. "You know, the whole 'your sins are forgiven and your soul is saved' shit that the reverend always goes on about." Religion had never been something he thought very highly of. It was too dependent on something whose existence could not be proven via scientific means. The corrupt used it to brainwash the uneducated, mindless masses the same way the government did. Case in point, Lior. Therefore, salvation wasn't something Ed bought into. It was too vague, too...intangible. He hated ideas and concepts like that. The way he saw it, if he couldn't detect it with any of his senses, if he couldn't prove its existence, it wasn't real. Of course, by that logic, he supposed he shouldn't believe that love was real, but love was complex and difficult to explain, much less understand. However, that was well beside the point, and he did his best to avoid even attempting to understand it.

The other reason he didn't buy into the concept of salvation was his guilt. He simply did not believe his soul was worth saving. Not after what he did to Al, to Winry, and to countless people whose names he never bothered to learn and whose faces he'd only glimpsed. How many lives had been ruined by his own ambition? The metal prosthetics that made it possible for him to walk and life as normally as possible and the hollow metal shell that housed his brother's soul symbolized his greatest sin. Greed. The vice for which the Homunculus was named. His own damned avarice was what got him places, but it also got him into trouble and hurt the people he loved, not to mention people the people he didn't even know. He would still find a way to restore Al's body. It was the least he could do. His own limbs no longer mattered.

A gentle tug on his bangs startled him, but the pair of lips that assaulted his relaxed him somewhat. He was only a little disappointed when their owner backed away just as he began to respond. Looking up, he saw that Winry was still smiling, that it was a content smile, not sarcastic like he originally feared. "And you think that me and our baby are your salvation?" Her voice betrayed the hope she was feeling; she wanted him to let go of his guilt so that he could move on. So that he could finally be happy. It just killed him that so far he hadn't been able to do that.

But everything changed when she told him they had a baby on the way.

Ed regarded her solemnly, then nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, "I do."

The tears that welled up in her eyes without warning scared him, but she shook her head. He'd done nothing wrong, he hadn't upset her. She was just happy, her out-of-control hormones amplifying the emotion to such an extent that it brought tears to her eyes. It distressed him all the same, but he just smiled reassuringly and pulled her against him, rubbing her back and pressing soft kisses against the top of her head while she cried. He remembered the night before when he told her he wasn't a hero, to which she said he was, and then called him her hero. Holding her now, he supposed that maybe he was. Heroes aren't perfect all the time.

And maybe, just maybe, sins could be forgiven.


02 March 2010

I think it's time I got started on the EdWin version of the 100 Theme Challenge. Because I'm going to end up with a crapton of shorts and I'll run out of ideas. But yes, my second EdWin fic, and I hope everyone likes it. Thanks for reading!