The food at the eastern base, while still lacking in many ways, was definitely better than the MREs.

If only Ed could eat it without someone's help.

The nurses were all kind, offering him assistance in the most delicate way possible as to preserve is pride. Ed didn't really mind them. What he minded was that without fail, every time he told them he could do something on his own, he'd end up calling them in a few minutes later.

He supposed he should have given himself some credit, he was crippled after all. He had undergone extensive surgery to sew up his stump of a leg, and then to get a skin graft on the burns that decorated his arm. Needless to say, Ed would be no stranger to narcotics for some time.

The doctors at the base had given him a hearing aid that made it easier for him to function. Though originally it had given him headaches, as the weeks went by Ed had gotten used to it. At first it was far too much stimulation for him to know what to do with. He had lived deaf for nearly a month, and being able to hear the simplest things like knocking over a glass or opening a window overwhelmed him.

Lan Fan's crying did as well.

In the few weeks they had spent waiting for a rescue team her wound had become dangerously infected, and where it once was a stump that ended mid bicep- it was now completely absent. When the large jeep came to take them to the base, Ed could tell by the worry in the medic's faces that something was wrong with her. They spoke to each other (though he couldn't hear a word) as they leaned over her, gingerly pulling back her bandages and examining her wounds, only to shake their heads in dismay. A week's worth of surgeries was what it took to bring her back to a stable state. Though whenever the nurses came to wheel her out, she would look on the verge of a breakdown; and whenever she was brought back in, she would cry herself to sleep.

Ed didn't even bother to confront the soldier's at the eastern base about anything Kimblee had said. He simply let some large (and notably shirtless) man dote on him like a mother. The man, who he later discovered went by the name of Armstrong, was kind and chivalric, and so any fears Ed would have had ebbed away as he began to let his exhaustion and worry take over his thoughts. Paninya was still living somehow, though she still hadn't woken up. Brosh's burns had gotten infected, and as for Ed, well he and Lan Fan could hardly move on their own. Ed's burned arm was beginning to heal up, though the doctors had to remove his ring finger, they had promised him that he would be able to use the limb to its fullest extent soon enough. The group had lost a noticeable amount of weight when they were found, and even as he sat in his hospital bed weeks later, Ed marveled that they had lived at all.

As time passed Ed was able to make his way around on a wheelchair, and Lan Fan could perform most activities without assistance. It was then that their superiors had decided to send them home. They got a chance to write their relatives first, and Ed was ecstatic.

Well, only for a few minutes.

"Are you writing Ling?" he asked, looking over at Lan Fan who scribbled next to him.

"Yeah." She said. "I would write my grandfather, but he doesn't live near any rehab centers. I think it would be best if I stuck in Central City. Then I could get back to work as soon as possible. I don't think I'll have the energy to write him a letter until I get back. I don't know what to say to him."

Ed nodded, but before he could go off into his own thoughts, Lan Fan spoke again.

"What do you plan to do when we return?"

The camera man shrugged and looked away. "I'll probably have Al pick me up. We'll just go from there."

"Are you going to write Winry?"

He grunted. "And say what? 'Hey babe- I know I said I'd end up fine but now I can't even walk on my own. I know you thought I was really cool, but now I'm-'" he paused, looking at the empty paper. "Shit, Lan Fan. What is she going to say when she sees my arm? It's going to look terrible."

The girl next to him shrugged. "Scars just make you cooler."

"Yeah, I mean, just look at this one! I'm missing a finger, and I look like a fucking reptile. The blisters are a nice touch. The fact that I can't take a shit on my own is probably almost as attractive."

Lan Fan stared at him. "Once you get automail, you'll be fine. Even if you weren't going to be fully functional, do you really think she's that shallow?"

The blonde just gazed at his hand, examining the snow white bandages that would probably have to be changed soon.

"I know. She probably won't care." He said. "I just thought I could give her better." He glanced at Lan Fan out of the corner of his eye. "You know?"

The girl nodded. "I know."

Ed had left his address with the doctors, asking them to give it to Paninya if or when she awoke so that she could write him. Armstrong had tearfully decided that he would accompany Ed and Lan Fan back to Central City. The train ride was long and monotonous, and Armstrong had taken it as an opportunity to go in depth (extremely so) about the various health benefits they would receive, as well as a monthly pension. Ed tried to nod and appear to be listening. Lan Fan didn't even attempt, and was soon sleeping on the other side of the car. Perhaps unknowingly, he followed her lead, leaving Armstrong to grumble about the foolishness of youth.

When they had finally pulled up to the stop, Ed could see a familiar crew gathered around on the platform. He wasn't surprised to see Al and Winry, or even Pinako, who stood about a head shorter though no less noticeable. Ling was a few feet away from them, standing alone.

Ed wasn't listening as Armstrong went off in another speech, only silently trying to gather his courage as he stumbled further towards the doors, doing his best not to trip over his own crutch. Lan Fan walked stubbornly behind them, refusing to take anyone up on their offers to help.

His heart beat increased as they got closer to the exit. He could see that the group was now inching closer to the train, anxiously awaiting the two veterans.

Armstrong graciously offered him his arm as Ed made his way down the stairs. Though he had been practicing for quite a while, the cameraman was nowhere near functional with his crutch.

As his foot touched the platform Ed cautiously looked up, only just in time to see a figure rushing towards him.

It was Al.

"Thank God." The blond said, wrapping him in a tight hug. It was the kind that made your back pop and your chest a little tight. Ed nearly cursed; he was already blinking back tears.

"I was so worried." The man said. "You're an asshole."

"I know." Ed said, doing what he could to reciprocate the hug, though his right arm was still pained at this point, his brother stepped back, wiping his eyes. The older of the two offered a small smile. "Sorry I worried you."

He only had a moment to breathe before another force hit him- this one still a blonde, but slightly smaller and prettier than his brother.

Winry didn't say anything. She simply wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. Ed gingerly placed his wounded hand on her back, the other still holding tightly to his crutch.

She was crying too, though in a little less dignified way. Ed stayed quiet, though he smiled to himself.

He had missed them more than he could say.

The smaller of the two pulled away, and Ed noted that she hadn't changed much, her hair had grown some, but other than that she was the same woman he had left.

"There's apple pie at home." She said, "Just like I promised."

Ed grinned. "There better be, I blew off my leg just to get back here."

Winry gave him a look, and he stopped grinning. "Too soon?"

"Not soon enough!" Pinako said, appearing from around Al. "With your behavior I figured you'd become a customer one day, I just thought it would have happened earlier. You were always reckless."

"Nice to see you too, granny." Ed said.

"It looks like you brought in another client while you were at it." The old woman said, nodding in the direction of Lan Fan, who was currently speaking with Ling a few feet away. "I knew I kept you around for something."

"Better be careful with that automail." He said, "You wouldn't want to make me even taller than I am now."

The woman grunted. "Or shorter."

When Ed had finally healed up, Pinako was quick to attach his automail leg. The cameraman had been told it would hurt, but shrugged it off. His certainty dimmed however as Winry and Al came to hold him down.

Needless to say, there was a great deal of screaming.

But it was a good fit, as Ed was sure it would be, and it only took a few adjustments to get it into top condition. Pinako and Winry only spent a few weeks on Lan Fan's arm, and though she offered to pay, Winry insisted that she take it as a gift from coworker. The two stubborn women butted heads for nearly ten minutes before Winry suggested they simply go out to dinner at some point, which Lan Fan was able to settle with.

Once she was sure that he and Lan Fan were set, Pinako packed her things. "I've already spent a month in this godforsaken city." She had said when Al asked if she could stay a bit longer. "As much as I love pestering you, I think it's time I go home."

Ed and Lan Fan attended regular therapy sessions at the local hospital, spending at least a couple hours a day learning how to function with their missing limb and new automail. Luckily for Ed, Lan Fan was just as competitive as he was, and they were able to get through the program in two weeks through sheer willpower to beat the other.

Riza, Roy, Maes, and nearly all of his friends from the station came to visit him once or twice. Roy had promised to set him back on the job as soon as he was ready, and Riza had even offered to refresh him on the editing system. Maes poked fun at him and his now obvious relationship with Winry, all the while Elicia examined his automail leg in wonder.

Two months after his run in with a bomb and Ed was functioning just fine.

Physically, that is.

It was Al who first spoke to him about his mental state. His brother had sat him down at the kitchen table and asked him about nearly everything, ranging from his relationship with his crew to how stable he felt with being in public. Ed did his best to answer the questions, though soon became uncomfortable and opted to leave and take a nap.

Since Ed had been gone there were hundreds of more crimes, so many that no one could recount specifics, though there was one that left nearly every person he spoke to with a white face and cold hands.

"There were two children killed in the street." Winry explained when Ed finally got the nerve to ask what the big deal was.

"I mean, by now we've seen it all, but this was a little too much." The blonde said, leaning back against the armrest of the couch as Ed took up space on the other side.

"But why?" he asked cautiously, not interested in upsetting her.

She stared blankly at the wall. "They were shot, execution style, but only after their killers sang our national anthem."

Ed took a breath. "Were you there?"

She nodded, not meeting his eyes.

The cameraman crawled over to where she sat curled on the couch. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"You had a lot on your plate." Winry said, finally meeting his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, not quite sure of how to make up for his apparent ignorance of her trial.

"Yes." She said. "I think I'm fine now."

Years later, she would divulge to Ed that she had stepped forward to try to free them, only to be a moment too late. She would reveal the details of how she had gone home that night and tried desperately to get the bloodstains out of her dress, and how she cried herself to sleep for a long time following it.

But for now, he wouldn't know.

A man named Jean Havoc had taken up his job as a camera operator during his time in Ishval, and from what Ed could gather, he was alright, though rather flirty.

Al had assured him that Winry had acted with an iron fist, and shot down every single attempt Jean had made at seducing her. Having been at the brunt of her anger before, Ed honestly pitied the man.

Jean would move on to train as a producer with Al once Ed returned, which the later planned to do before the end of the third month.

Well, he at least hoped he would.

For some ungodly reason, Ed could by no means force himself out of bed in the mornings. His automail was working just fine, and had nothing to do with the fact that he could hardly make himself shower, and eating became a once-a-day thing.

He didn't read, or watch TV, or write, he would simply lie in bed all day, occasionally getting up for a drink or to use the restroom. He ignored the plaguing thought that something was wrong with him. He was simply tired, and making up for the rest that he didn't get in Ishval. That was what he told himself- anyways.

Al would poke his head in every now and again, and Winry came visit sometimes, this was one of those times.

"Hey handsome," she said as she entered the room and set down her toolbox on his bedside table. Ed figured he looked anything but handsome, with tangled hair and dark bags beneath each eye.

"How's your leg holding up?" she asked. "Al said you were having trouble with it."

Ed sat up, confused. "My leg is fine."

"Are you sure?" Winry asked, sitting at the edge of his bed to examine it. "He said you hadn't been walking on it at all."

"Bullshit." He said. "It works just fine."

"That's good to hear." Winry said, her fingers tracing the ankle of his automail. Ed noticed that her mouth was pulled into a frown.

"Hey," he started cautiously, "Are you okay?"

He was taken aback when she looked up and asked with a rather sharp tone, "Are you?"

Her question was simple enough, but it still left him stumbling to find an answer that he felt he could share with her. There were far too many things that still rubbed him raw and left him on the verge of tears.

Winry continued when he said nothing. "You haven't been bathing or sleeping or eating, and no-" she held up a hand when he began to speak, "You can't convince me otherwise."

A few moments of silence passed. He simply stared at her, at a loss of what to say.

"Ed, I'm worried about you. I'm scared for you."

He was quiet for a few moments, simply gripping his bed sheets and staring at his lap.

"I'm sorry for scaring you Winry." He said finally. "I don't know what it is, I just…" he took a breath as he tried to find the right term. "I'm in a funk."

"You're depressed."

Ed swallowed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Winry stared at him for a long moment before nodding. She then stood and moved to slip under the covers with him, resting her head on his shoulder as she toyed with the fabric of his shirt. He put a hand in her hair. It had been a long time since they had shared intimate contact like this. The first three months back were either too busy or too stressful for either to find a moment, but now they had one, and he planned to hold on to it for as long as he could.

"Hey Ed?"

"Hm?"

Winry placed her hand flat on his chest, "I think you should consider seeing a psychiatrist."

Ed supposed he should have been doing so when he first got back, but he was far too focused on recovering physically to notice that his mental state was going downhill. He had lost even more weight since his return, and it was only reasonable for him to get help.

"I know someone you could go to." She said, breaking up his thoughts.

"Who?"

"I had a counsellor back when my parents died. I haven't had to see her for some years now, but she really did help me out."

Ed peered down at her. "I didn't know you had a counsellor."

Winry shrugged. "It's not really a time of my life that I like to relive." She paused. "You don't have to see her if you don't want to, but she certainly helped me."

"Who is it?"

"Her name is Izumi Curtis" she explained, "And lucky for you she's been living in Central City for six years now. "

He stared back up at the ceiling. Not wanting to think about the implications of having a psychiatrist. "I'll give her a call." He said, trying not to show his hesitation.

"Good." Winry replied. "Now how about this, you go take a shower and I'll change these nasty ass sheets and find her phone number. Fair?"

Ed smiled. "Fair."

Izumi was not at all what he pictured a counsellor to be.

She didn't sugar coat anything, and when Ed explained what had been happening she promptly informed him that he was "Depressed as fuck," and "Could probably use some medication."

"I'd rather not take any medication." Ed said quickly, trying to be civil and firm all the same.

The brunette stared at him over the top of her clipboard. "I can respect that, but I have to ask, why not? Your insurance would definitely cover it."

"It's not that." He responded, rubbing the back of his neck, "I just don't want this to take over my life."

Izumi put down her clipboard. "That's really what you think?"

Ed knew he had said something wrong, but had too much pride to take it back now. "I mean, what's happening to me isn't so bad, and medication is only for the people that are seriously messed up."

"Winry took medication for three years after her parents died."

The room was nearly silent; Ed listened to the birds just outside for a few moments, utterly unsure of what to say.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant." Izumi said. "But you're wrong if you think medication is only for, oh how did you say it, those who are 'seriously messed up.'? It must be a revelation to know that Winry was one of those people."

Ed clenched his fist, feeling his heart beat in his ears. "I didn't know."

"Exactly." She said. "And most people don't know if someone takes medication, so watch your fucking mouth before you hurt somebody."

Pressing two fingers to her forehead with an exhausted look, she continued. "I'm going to be honest with you, that's how most people think. But you don't have to let them know you take medication, and in reality if they don't like that then they aren't worth your time."

Izumi met his eyes. "It can really help you get back on your feet, and maybe after a while we can start to wean you off of it. If you still aren't interested, then that's your decision, I'm just giving you the same options I give everyone."

Prescription in hand, Ed returned to where Winry sat on Izumi's couch, and offered her a hand up.

"We're all good to go." Izumi said, coming in to the room behind him. "Come back in two weeks and we'll see how things are going. Until then, it was nice seeing you again Winry."

The girl smiled at her. "Thanks again, Izumi."

They exited the house; all the while Ed clutched his prescription tightly. He could feel words bubbling in his throat; he just wasn't sure how to let them go. Surely Winry of all people would support him in this.

His thoughts were interrupted as she slipped her hand into his. "We should go to the ice cream shop after we hit the pharmacy."

Ed looked at her, then back at his prescription. He then felt his lips tug up in a smile as they continued on to the car.

The feeling of having a camera in his hand was something he couldn't explain, and it only took a few short days for Ed's body to remember what he had taught it about the instrument. That following week he was sent out to shoot for the New Year's party. Ed promptly agreed, though he was still in awe at how much time had passed. It never occurred to him how long it had been since his deployment.

Roy was careful about asking Ed and Winry to cover New Year's again, though this time for a different reason. "I know that some people coming back from war have trouble with loud noises, and there's going to be a great deal of fireworks and cheering at the party." He had explained. "If you're not comfortable Ed, no one is going to judge you. You can just say so."

The cameraman was quick to shake his head no, his cheeks a pinkish hue from his embarrassment. It took at least three more confrontations for Roy to finally accept his answer, and Ed honestly thought he would be fine.

At least he would have been, if he had been paying attention.

Ed was so engrossed with getting his shot, whilst trying to listen to what Winry was saying at the time that he forgot that the countdown was coming up. It was only once the audience got to eight that he began to realize what was occurring.

He couldn't run fast enough.

Handing the camera to Winry, Ed was bolting back to the van before they even hit five.

He could have sworn his heart would explode as he flung open the door of the van and hurled himself inside, slamming it behind him and crouching on the floor. He could hear the muffled sounds of the audience counting in the distance, which only brought him more panic. Ed quickly turned off his hearing aid and ducked his head under his arms.

Loud cheers and fireworks were easy to mistake for screaming and explosions.

Sounds were muffled out now, and Ed tried to get himself to calm down. He pressed his forehead to the carpet on the floor of the van, counting each breath as he tried to slow them down.

The fireworks continued on for several minutes, and Ed simply kept reminding himself that they were just that, fireworks. There were no explosions. There was no bomb. It was just fireworks.

No one was going to die.

There was no bomb.

He shut his eyes tightly. Telling himself that it was almost over, all the while resisting the instinct to scream, to get out of the van and run further, or to take out whomever was lighting the fireworks.

As the muffled sounds steadily dissipated, he felt a breeze. He dared to look up, only to see that Winry was standing in the doorway, her face drawn in worry. Her mouth moved as if she were saying something. Ed simply stared at her.

Winry climbed into the van, pulling the door shut behind her and scooting to the driver's side with keys in hand, intent in turning on the heat. He then felt her place a hand on his back.

She was probably saying something again. He didn't dare turn up his hearing aide. He didn't trust his actions if there were to be more fireworks

Her hand touched his shoulder, and Ed glanced up, only to see that she held her arms open for him. He went for it without a second thought, getting to his knees and burying his head into her chest. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, with Winry running her hands through hair while Ed tried to control his breathing and the shaking in his hands.

Finally, after the traces of fireworks became significantly low, Ed dared to turn on his hearing aids.

"They probably aren't done yet." He could hear Winry warn.

"I'll be fine if we get home." He said, trying to ignore how fragile his voice sounded.

"I can drive."

Ed didn't question it, turning his aids back off he moved to sit in the passenger's seat. He stared rigidly at his feet the entire way home. The muffled fireworks died out, with about a minute between each, and he took as many deep breaths as he could in an effort to calm himself.

When they reached his apartment he bounded up the stairs and inside. Once the door had shut Winry promptly turned on the television and brought up the radio. Only then did Ed brave turning his aids back on.

The explosions were still there, but now much more distant and stifled, the late night news helping to drown out whatever was left of them.

He sat down on the couch, staring blankly at Maes and Rose, not even paying attention to their reports. Winry soon joined him, handing him a hot cup of tea and sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.

When the news ended Winry went to get the remote and find something interesting, though there were few stations to choose from, and she settled with one that showed old black and white films.

"I'm sorry." Ed said. His anxiety was nearly gone now, replaced only by a sense of shame. "God, that must have been so embarrassing for you."

"Edward Elric, if you think I give a damn about anyone's opinions, then you don't know me very well at all."

He felt his lips tug up in a smile. Of course she wouldn't.

Ed wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her over to him and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you."

Winry rested her head on his shoulder and letting out a deep breath whispered:

"We'll be just fine, Ed."

"Yeah, we will."

As that movie faded to black the next began, and then the next, for as long as it took for the fireworks to stop.

A/N

Hey guys!

There's some fairly serious and heavy subjects covered in this chapter, so I'm going to take a minute to once again affirm that the opinions stated in this story are not necessarily mine, but what I think would fit the character. Here's a couple of things I do believe though:

Depression is a rough thing, and whether or not you take medication is a decision between you and your psychiatrist. It's nobody's place to judge somebody else's decisions about their own mental health. They know themselves better than anyone else does.

PTSD will fuck you up, and we should all be courteous when we can to those who may suffer from it. It's not that difficult to warn your combat vet neighbor that you're going to light some fireworks. Usually they won't have too much trouble if they have a fair warning.

Winry and Ed reunited brings me joy. I missed these two together in the last chapter.

Let me know what you thought, thanks for reading!

Quiteokayish