The scent of cinnamon began to waft from her creation as the apple pie started to take shape. Whenever the blonde girl got into one of her reminiscing sort of moods she always ended up making their favorite. Ed and Al always loved her apple pie and it seemed as if every time they go around to visiting her in Resembool, no matter what the reason, there was a pie in the oven. So now, after years of not seeing them, it became almost habitual to bake one when the Elric brothers' absence became overbearing.
As if the sweet scent of apples and cinnamon would lead them home to her.
Of course, at twenty-four, Winry Rockbell knew that the concept alone was ridiculous but what could one say to her about holding on to childish hopes and dreams? She couldn't let go of the path, yet she was forced to accept that time was ticking away. "You killed my mom and dad?" I asked shakily. I had always wondered how they'd died. There are lots of ways for a doctor to die on the battlefield, especially since they tended to both sides of the war, but never had it ever crossed my mind that an alchemist had killed them. It was just too ironic, too close to home. My legs didn't seem to be able to hold my weight up any longer so I sunk to the ground. Vaguely, I heard voices yelling at me but my mind couldn't seem to distinguish what they were saying. Like they were sending me signals they refused to register in my mind. All I knew was the tanned man in front of me who claimed to have killed my parents.
"What did they do to deserve death in your eyes?" I choked out, tears rolling down my cheeks. The man didn't even try to deny what he'd done. He hardly flinched, as if he were welcoming my ridicule.
"I deserve to be killed by you." Before then I didn't notice, couldn't have noticed, but now it is as if the water in the dam just flooded out. I hear the screaming, pleading that's coming from my dearest friends. I feel the unbearable pain that seems to be attacking my heart and then I feel the cold hard metal of the weapon I used to hate with everything I had in me. In my hand was a gun. Cold, merciless, and unforgiving are a few words I'd come to associate them with in my lifetime, but now that I'd found out the truth I'd need to find new adjectives. Those described the alchemists. This gun was a good thing. It would allow me to avenge my parents. Beautiful people like them didn't deserve to die in vain.
"You do." I wish I were strong like Riza. Strong enough to pull the trigger, but I'm not. Deep down I know I'm not.
"Shoot Me!"
"Don't shoot Winry!" and for the first time in my life, I listened to Edward Elric.