A/N: So sorry for the super-late update! Oh gosh, with college starting up and everything, I've been so incredibly busy! Anyways, here's an actiony emotional chapter! Woohoo- No filler here! :D
Winry sat on the edge of the fountain, her eyes searching the dwindling crowd for Ed's slight form. She sighed as her thoughts drifted. Ed's muscles are looking more defined lately… has he been doing extra training? That black shirt he wears all the time shows his arm and shoulders really well… WINRY! Stop that!
Shaking her head firmly, she dug in her bag for her brand new five-eighths Whitman wrench, just to make sure it was still there. Cold metal touched her fingertips. I can't wait to use this- I'll have to find some excuse. Ed's automail does need a tune-up. I don't know if he's built up enough muscle to compensate for the weight I added last time… although he IS pretty muscular- NO, no, no, no, NO! He's my friend. Yeah, like my brother! I shouldn't be thinking about him that way, not ever. Way too weird.
She pulled her knees to her chin and glanced at her watch, then stared resolutely at the dimming lights from the festival booths. It was almost ten minutes past their agreed meeting time, she noted, and getting dark. Where is he? She sighed again. He's always late.
Moments later, a hand closed over her shoulder. "Finally you showed up, Ed," Winry began. "I was starting to-"
"Who's Ed? All I see is a pretty lady all by herself." Winry whipped around to see a very tall, very burly-looking man grasping her shoulder. His eyes were glazed and sunken and his hands were dirty, and he smelled of alcohol. Gasping in surprise, she tried to jerk away, but now his hands shifted to her wrists and held tight. The wrench she was holding fell to the stone floor with a clang. "Where ya going, little miss? I just want to talk with ya. I'm –hic- an automail mechanic meself, ya see."
"Get off of me!" Winry yelped, pulling at the man's ever-constricting grip. "That hurts!"
"I just want some tips from the best mechanic in town is all. I heard you're even better'n Garfiel!"
"Let go!"
"Heh, don't think so, pretty lady. I lied just now, ya see. I want a little more than tips." He pulled Winry closer, blowing his beer breath in her face as she struggled. "Now stop fighting me." His face grew uglier, contorting with anger. "Stop that right now, little miss." He put one hand over her mouth and dragged her into the heavy shadow behind the fountain, where they were virtually invisible to passersby.
Winry's eyes widened in fear as tears coursed down her cheeks and adrenaline thundered through her veins. "I want a little more than tips," the drunkard repeated, his voice husky. "I want you."
Edward strolled calmly through the festival booths, surveying the scene around him without attracting attention to himself (or to his automail). Taking another bite of his roasted corn-on-the-cob, he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. Crap, he thought with a groan, quickening his step. I'm already late… Winry's gonna kill me.
He arrived at the fountain a few minutes later, his snack discarded, and to his surprise Winry was absent. "Hey, Win," he called, in case she was nearby. "You there?" No reply, no wrench to the head... This is weird- she's always on time. He sat down on the edge of the fountain and put his elbows on his knees.
A loud whimper and angry muttering echoed suddenly from the other side of the stone structure. Ed was on his feet in an instant, his stomach rising in his throat. "Winry?" His heart practically stopped when he rounded the corner and registered the scene before him.
Winry was backed into the fountain's wall, her shirt ripped up to her chest and her belt unbuckled. The drunkard was pressed into her, smashing his lips messily onto hers and running his hands up and down the length of her body. Rivers of tears poured down the girl's tormented face.
Bile rose in Ed's throat as blood red rage filled him to the brim. It was wrong, so damn wrong. It was Winry being kissed that way, Winry who was crying, and her belt was unbuckled and her shirt was riding up and this thing was all over her and she didn't want it and it was his Winry. "GET YOUR FILTHY FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!" he roared, and the man looked up in surprise, smugness saturating his features.
"Make me."
Ed knew only blackness.
He was in the forest clearing again. It was just dusk, the fading sunlight dappling on the leaf litter and a chilly breeze blowing through the trees. This time, the wild man in the toga was hunched over a fallen log, his back to Ed as he did something with his hands.
A shiver ran down Ed's spine, and some feral instinct in his brain screamed at him to run, to run away NOW. Shoving the niggling thought to the back of his mind, Ed stepped forward and looked over the man's shoulder. The bowl he had held in Ed's previous dream sat on the log, and it contained a greenish liquid that looked like ground-up plant material. Several jagged pieces of metal lay alongside the bowl, twisted, burnt and of varying sizes.
The man began to arrange and rearrange the pieces as if selecting an order, although there was no discernible system that Ed could see. When the man seemed satisfied he turned to face the alchemist, his orange eyes piercing in the half-light.
He said nothing, merely gazed at the seventeen year old with a strange sort of scrutiny. The forest man looked exhausted -his eyelids drooped and there were dark circles above his cheekbones- but he had a spark in his features that communicated his enthusiasm for something. Edward had seen Mustang bestow a similar gaze on the coffeepot: tired, but even more motivated by the caffeine boost he would receive if he could muster up the steps across the hall.
After a few moments the man broke the tenuous eye contact. He returned to his metal pieces, rearranging them again, and waved a hand in Edward's direction without looking at him. Ed felt himself being pulled away from the scene, as if a huge invisible hand had grabbed him around the waist.
"Wait! Who are you?" Ed's cry went unanswered as he was dragged out of the clearing. He lost his balance and fell backward, closing his eyes to brace for impact.
It never came. He opened his eyes again to see a damp concrete ceiling covered with mold.
"Damnit," he muttered angrily, flopping over onto his side. A stabbing pain immediately jarred his ribs, and a gasp escaped him. "Ah, DAMNIT!" Glaring at the wall, he took in a deep breath. Another lightning bolt of pain went through his chest and he clenched his fist to keep from screaming.
"Ed?" A timid voice echoed off the walls. "Are you okay?"
Edward blinked and rolled –slowly- over to face the sound. That was when he noticed the iron bars. "I-I'm in a jail cell?" he exclaimed, and swore again.
"Yeah." This time Ed saw the source of the voice: Winry sat on a small wooden chair on the outside of the cell. She was wrapped in a rough, navy blue blanket and bruises blossomed around her mouth and temples. Her eyes were red –probably from crying, damnit, Ed thought- and she looked frail. Too frail for Winry, anyway.
"Aw shit, Winry." Ed sighed and stood slowly, making his way gingerly to the bars. "I'm so glad you're safe. I'm sorry, I should've gotten there earlier-"
"That's no excuse for almost killing him right in front of me, Ed." Her voice was harsher now.
Edward stepped forward, gripping the bars. "What? I don't… I wasn't-"
"Why didn't you stop? Don't get me wrong- I wouldn't have cared if you'd knocked him unconscious or even beaten the crap out of him -he had no right to do what he did-, but you would have killed him if that big automail vendor hadn't intervened! I knew you were strong, and I know he hurt me, but that's no excuse! I can't believe you-"
"Winry, let me explain!" Ed interrupted her tirade, which was becoming more emotionally charged and high-pitched by the second.
She crossed her arms on her chest and half-heartedly glared at Edward. "I'm waiting."
Edward rolled his eyes. "Okay, so… I wasn't actually conscious for that." Winry raised an eyebrow. "Well, for the cursing part at the beginning I was awake. But after he taunted me, I just blacked out. And then I had some crazy dream-"
"You weren't awake." Winry's eyes were narrowed skeptically.
"No, I wasn't, and I'll prove it." Ed's voice rose and he gripped the bars tighter. "You want to know the reason I got sent home? It was because I did the same thing to Mustang. I got pissed, blacked out, and tried to beat the living crap out of him! He managed to fend me off, so all he got was a broken arm and a headache. I got a month of forced leave. Do you believe me now?"
Winry was quiet after his outburst. She touched her cheek and flinched- the bruise ached. Finally she nodded, and looked at her feet.
"Okay."
Ed let out another sigh, his brow creasing. "I'm so sorry, Winry. It was my fault that he hurt you like that. He wouldn't have even touched you if I'd been there."
Winry shook her head and made some small noise of disagreement.
"No, don't you dare put this on anyone but me," Edward growled.
"Who says you have the right to tell me who I can blame?"
"I do, because it WAS my fault!"
Winry shook her head again, more firmly this time. "It was an accident on your part. That thing did this to me, not you."
"STOP trying to defend me! It was my fault, I should have been there to protect you and you know it!"
"This is a stupid argument. I don't blame you, so shut up and accept it already!"
Silence filled the room. Finally Edward shook his head. "I probably would have kicked his ass into the ground even if I was conscious. That dirty bastard had no right." His automail hand formed dents in the iron bar. "Touching you that way… was unforgivable." Ed's shoulders shook with repressed anger, and his voice was venomous. "He hurt you and he made you cry- that was reason enough for me to do what I did. He deserved what he got, although I'm sorry you had to see it."
Winry looked at her wrists, where hand-shaped bruises were starkly purple against her lightly tanned skin. She could think of nothing to reply, so she just nodded. Ed watched her closely for signs of tears- he hated making her cry, even if what he said was true- but was surprised to see that her eyes were dry. I burn down my house and she bawls, but she almost gets- well… that thing hurts her like that and she doesn't even leak? He sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching with a strange mix of admiration and bemusement. That's my Winry.
A/N: Aww poor Winry And Ed goes all D: "Oh no you di-int!" on the bad guy! Hehe this chapter was cool to write! I felt bad hurting Winry (and thus pissing Ed off), but it had to be done, for the sake of good fanfiction! Ah, the writer's dilemma!
Anyways, reviews are always lovely, they brighten up my day so much you have NO idea, and they help motivate me to write faster! I love my readers! :D Thanks so much!
