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One Year, Six Months, Part Six

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Edward wished that he was lost in a hallucination or a nightmare. He stood a chance of getting out of those alive. That wasn't always the case with Izumi Curtis, especially when she stood over him, her arms crossed, and her face set in an expression that promised death and destruction to anyone in her path.

"Explain, Edward." Her foot tapped lightly on the linoleum, making one of her many braids bounce.

Then again, if she killed him, he wouldn't have to live in this hell any more. I'd finally be free. Not that he expected Izumi to actually kill him, no, she'd just make him wish he was dead. The nurses would keep her from actually throwing him across the room, right? Even if that guy who'd brought him back from the other room hared off as soon as Edward was shifted into his bed.

"Now." The terse word hung between them.

Edward's mouth tightened in response. "I got into a fight with someone stronger than me." He shrugged, his forefinger finding the hole in the blanket he'd made last night. "I lost the fight. It happens."

"Not to one of my apprentices." Her frown deepened.

He gave her an incredulous look. "I lost so many fights, Master. Hell, Winry beats me up, too. I only started winning," Edward paused, realizing that he started winning when he and Al really started trusting other people and depending on their help. Ling, for one; donkey kong and lion king. Winry. Hell, if we'd let her in sooner... Deciding it was best not to follow that thought, Edward shook his head.

"When you realized your reasons for winning." Izumi's expression softened ever so slightly and she touched Edward's shoulder. "There were people counting on you, people you cared about, even people you didn't know, and you fought for them." Her face became stern again as her grip tightened. "Now you're fighting to lose and I want to know why."

"I'm not." Edward clamped his jaw shut before the rest of that sentence could get out. It wasn't true. What Izumi said was right. He was fighting to lose. "Why does it matter?" Stabbing his finger through the hole, Edward ripped the fabric more.

"Because there are still people who care about you." Izumi caught his chin, forcing his head up.

Edward could still turn his eyes past her, at least until she thumped him in the forehead with her knuckle. "Ow, dammit!"

"You do know there are people who care about you, Edward." It really wasn't a question at all and her fingers were tightening on his jaw.

"Ow. Yes." He squirmed, trying to pull free and failing.

"And people are still counting on you." Izumi leaned closer, one of her braids hitting his cheek. "People still need you, Edward."

He nearly jerked free at that. "Need me? There isn't anyone alive who needs me." Gall rose with the words that spilled from his mouth like bile. "Everyone is capable of looking after themselves, Master. I'm just the reminder of what could go wrong, the threat to the little kids, 'if you do something this stupid, you would wind up like Edward Elric'." His voice didn't rise over a whisper. "I'm tired of being the bad example, Master. I'm ready to be something else."

"Then prove it, apprentice." Izumi all but thrust him away from her. "Do something worthwhile to become the good example again."

Edward opened his mouth to retort but her eyes blazed at him in a way he remembered all too well – saying anything more was likely to get him stomped. He'd been stomped enough all too recently. It wasn't fun. Neither was a catheter. "Fine." He glanced away from Izumi in a sulk.

"I'm glad you agree with me because as soon as you're released from this place, you're coming to Dublith. I'm not letting you do something else to sully my name as your master." Her smile turned deadly and Edward pushed farther away from her reflexively. "You'd better heal up quick, Ed. You're going back into training."

* * *

"You're going where?" Roy blinked, nonplussed.

Edward had worried a large hole in his blanket, nearly big enough to shove his whole hand through. "Dublith." He glared up at Roy. "You called her, didn't you?"

"Called who?" Roy hated feeling like he had no clue what was going on. "Wait, your teacher?" By the snarl on the younger man's face, Roy realized he'd hit on it. "That was Miss Rockbell's idea."

"Winry?" Edward choked on her name.

"You've managed to upset Miss Rockbell, Edward, and I don't think you know just how deeply your actions have hurt her." Roy stared down at the restive young man, not surprised when Edward glanced away, refusing to meet his eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Edward. Shutting out the people who truly care for you is not the way to combat this."

"Who says I want to." The hole in the blanket widened with Edward's growl.

"All right, if not for yourself, then why not for her?" Brow knitting, Roy gestured toward the hallway and Winry, wherever she was. "She does care about you, Fullmetal, even if you're too jackassed to realize it." The boy was ignoring him or, at least, pretending to, but the tension in his shoulders said otherwise. "At any rate, it was her idea to contact your teacher. I had nothing to do with it." And even if he'd been asked, Roy thought he probably would've agreed to it. Edward's family, such as it was, kept dwindling. If his surrogate mother couldn't reach him, if Miss Rockbell wasn't able to get through, Roy wondered if Edward could be saved.

"Fine. How soon can I leave this place?" Edward started making a new hole in his blanket, picking at a damaged thread in the weave.

"Whenever your doctor says you're able to travel, since you're going to Dublith with your teacher." Roy kept his voice level. "I'd suggest against moving you so soon, except that I don't want to be saddled with you, either." He smirked as Edward raised hot eyes to glare at him. "I can't think of anyone who would, truthfully. Your teacher must be made of sterner stuff than the military. Don't worry," he added, as if imparting a favor, "I'll make sure that you have plenty of medical leave."

Growling, Edward thumped his automail hand on the mattress. "You bastard." Even his favorite word for Roy didn't carry the same vehemence; it seemed more like Edward was going through the motions than actually getting angry.

"Maybe it'll give you a chance to grow up, Fullmetal, since you still seem lacking in that department."

That got Edward's attention and the focus of his rage. "What did you say?"

"Come on, Edward. You don't really think that living with a woman is enough to make you an adult?" To himself, Roy admitted he missed the fireworks that involved much of his conversations, such as they were, with Edward. He wished this was as much of a game as it had been previously.

"I haven't been a kid since I lost Al's body." The words came out stiff and icy though Edward's eyes blazed. "Maybe I'm not living up to your expectations, Brigadier General," he fairly spat that title out, making it an epitaph, "but I think I've done fairly well."

Roy folded his arms. "Really? This is what you call doing fairly well? How many friends do you have left, Edward? What about your family?"

"Al's dead, you bastard." His automail whined in protest though the splints kept Edward from fisting his other hand.

"Mrs. Curtis, Mrs. Hughes and Miss Rockbell aren't but if you keep using them like doormats, they'll take the hint you're offering. Strong women usually do and by the time you realize you want them back, they'll have moved on." Roy watched Edward's jaw flex in response, the way his nostrils flared. If he hadn't been hobbled by the cast on his forearm and the missing left leg, Roy thought Edward might've leaped out of the bed and challenged him.

Instead, he turned his head away, loose hair effectively curtaining him from Roy's stare. "Let them." His automail hand moved languidly, making Roy wonder if Edward had increased the morphine drip when no one was looking.

"Why? Because it'll be easier for you to slip away if there isn't anyone looking out for you?" Roy shook his head, his stomach twisting. That wasn't what he'd wanted Edward to think.

"That's what you just said." His voice darkened. "I don't need this, sir."

"Edward, if you spoke to your opponent that way, it's no wonder you were smashed into the ground." The woman's voice came from the entryway to the ward, the hint of a southern accent in her words, though the words came out in a staccato rush, like machine gun fire. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightened, though Edward didn't turn toward the woman as she entered the room. She crossed the ward, her sandals clicking on the old linoleum. "Ed?"

He lowered his head, hair blocking his eyes from view. "What does it matter? I lost the fight. I told you that already, Master." Edward tacked on her title at the end and, from the tone of his voice, Roy was sure the younger man was trying to pick another losing battle.

"You are a fool." The woman knocked her fist against the top of Edward's skull. "I don't know why I'm volunteering to do this."

Roy thought he now knew where Edward had picked up that particular growl. Edward scowled at the woman through his bangs, a glare that should've flayed flesh from bone. "You could just leave me," Edward began only to have her hand slap over his mouth. Expecting her to be bitten, Roy drew back, not wanting to be included in the fireworks and bloodshed but the boy, aside from jerking his head back, remained quiet.

"I could," Mrs. Curtis said, a particularly frightening curl to her mouth, "but where would be the fun in that?"

Edward's stricken expression answered all too well any question Roy had on the horrors that awaited him in Dublith. "Well," he said, his own flirtatious smile back in place, "I'm sure you have plans to discuss with Edward, Mrs. Curtis, and I shall leave you to them." He ignored Edward's hiss of, "Don't leave me with her!" to wave at them both, ducking out into the hallway.

And when they said 'discretion is the better part of valor', Roy knew they were right.

* * *

Winry took a deep breath, looking up at the crumbled façade of Edward's apartment building. Somehow, it managed to look even more run down than it had before. Beside her, Mr. Curtis made a telltale sound of surprise, drawing her attention. "I know it doesn't look like much," she began and the comment petered out. It really wasn't that much. The building wasn't in a good part of town and the warm weather exacerbated the stench of sewage lingering in the air. "Well." Winry started up the cracked stairs, thinking again how beautiful this building must have been at one time; how much work would be needed to bring it back to its prior splendor.

Mr. Curtis followed her, moving quietly for such a big man. Even when they started up the creaky stairs, Winry didn't really hear him. It was kind of creepy, to tell the truth, though she thought him trailing behind her wasn't making her nearly as nervous as what she was going to face.

Brigadier General Mustang had told her that he was going to release Edward on medical leave, to go with Mrs. Curtis to Dublith. He'd mentioned sending someone to Edward's apartment to get his things and Winry had blurted out that she'd do it. Gracia protested that idea and Mr. Curtis volunteered to go with her. The two men had exchanged a look over her head that normally would've made her seethe but this time, Winry accepted the offer without argument. She really didn't want to face Josephine Wagner alone.

Edward had reluctantly told her which key went to his apartment, showing very ill grace, even for him. Winry figured he was pouting over being sent away with Mr. and Mrs. Curtis. The Brigadier General had told her that it would be best that Edward not be allowed to return to his apartment himself; that it would be far easier for him to make a clean break if he didn't have that chance to reconnect with Josephine, though he hadn't exactly put it in those words. No, he'd been more blunt, his arms folded and his face grim, advising Winry and Mr. Curtis that there might be opium or alcohol squirreled away in the apartment and Edward would know all the hiding places. Best that someone else get his things and he not be allowed to choose what he wanted to take.

Winry hated the duplicity of all this but understood why it was necessary. It was just difficult to think of Edward as being…sick this way. His misery; she understood that all too well, though finally, it seemed she might be moving past Alphonse's death. Not healing; no, there would always be a huge wound in her heart for him; the same as for her parents and grandmother; even Den's death hadn't left her unscarred. Life had to go on and Winry had other people to live for, not just Alphonse, and now she had to be strong for his idiot brother and face Edward's lover. There was always a chance that Josephine wouldn't be at the apartment but Winry didn't hope too much for that.

It seemed to Winry that it grew more difficult to climb the closer she got to the third floor of the building and Edward's apartment. The air felt thicker and her shoes felt heavier. She shook it off, knowing it was her own emotions playing tricks on her. A board sighed under Mr. Curtis' weight as they walked along the worn carpet to Edward's apartment. Winry fished the key out of her pocket but stood still, waiting for a few seconds, before she knocked. The first time, her knuckles barely made any sound against the wood, making her roll her eyes at her own timidity. The second time, she rapped at the door loud enough that a neighbor down the hall peered out at them, ducking back inside at the sight of Mr. Curtis. She clearly heard the sound of someone locking a door, feeling her stomach sink. Ed, you idiot. You could've done so much better.

As if that thought conjured her, the door opened, a green eye appearing in the opening above the chain catch. That eye swept over Winry, the words, "Oh, it's you," sounding muffled but still irritated.

"We need to come in, Miss Wagner." Winry found her fists clenching and she forced them to relax.

The door closed, the faint rattle of the chain being released coming through it, then the door swung open. Josephine blocked the opening with her body, her mouth curled in a wicked smile. "Why should I actually let you in? There's nothing you want here, is there?" She flaunted her figure, as if that might be a temptation.

Winry managed to keep from sneering but only just. "Mr. Curtis and I are here to collect Edward's things." Putting her hand on the door panel, Winry shoved, sending Josephine staggering back a few steps. That was enough for Winry to push her way inside, trusting Mr. Curtis to follow her.

"Collect his things?" Josephine scooped her curls off her face, somehow managing to not look the least bit discomfited by Winry's actions. "Why?" She slunk across the room to a low table, picking up a cigarette and taking a long drag off of it. "Did he die?" The words came out with a puff of smoke, as distant and cold as Briggs.

Trembling, Winry shoved her hands deep into her pockets so she wouldn't be tempted to hit Josephine. "He's alive. He's going to be fine." She bit back whatever else she might have said, turning the tables on Josephine. "Ed sent us to get his things. He's not coming back here."

Josephine let out a low laugh, folding her arms. "Really? Is that what you think?" She moved closer to Winry, leaning over her, something both predatory and seductive in her stance. "He'll come running back just as soon as he can." Her smoky words caressed Winry's cheek, making her want to wipe her skin clean.

"No, he won't." Mr. Curtis had a voice that could've boomed out to fill all the corners of the room. Instead, he spoke calmly, though not quietly, simply stating the facts as he saw them. "The apartment is paid up to the end of the month. After that, you can lease it yourself or move. It's your choice."

The slight widening of her eyes showed Josephine's surprise though she moved to quickly cover it up. "Edward wouldn't just leave me like that."

"Yes, he would," Mr. Curtis said solemnly and Josephine turned her full attention to him, her brows furrowing.

"Edward's too good a man to do that." A tremor ran through Winry at Josephine's words. Josephine's expression was troubled now; confused. She brushed at her curls in agitation this time, barely hiding the tremble in her hand. "He wouldn't just leave me, not this way." Swallowing, she stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray, folding herself onto the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. "He's not going to leave me. He knows I can't stand being alone."

Winry bit her lower lip, turning away from Josephine's obvious pain. She stared at the books on the shelves as a way to distract herself, wondering idly if any of them were Edward's. Since he and Alphonse burned down their house, Edward had lived out of a suitcase. Any unnecessary item was tossed aside, though Winry had a tiny collection of souvenirs from both their childhoods and their travels. Somehow, she doubted Edward would've changed his lifestyle. The furniture probably came with the apartment and Edward had never shown any interest in music, so the records had to belong to Josephine. Tuning out whatever Mr. Curtis was saying to the woman, Winry made her way to the bookshelf, quickly deducing that these books weren't Edward's, either. One caught her eye and she took it down. Untitled, it was bound in black, tiny scraps of paper marking places in it. Winry opened it, realizing upon seeing the familiar scritchy letters that this was Edward's alchemy journal. She flipped through the pages, seeing tiny maps drawn out, a list of places that Edward wanted to go in Amestris toward the back. There was a page torn in half and Winry wondered where the missing part might be then shrugged it off. Edward may have had to leave a note to someone and no other paper been available.

"What are you doing?" The sharp question broke Winry from her reverie. Josephine glared at her, her hands clenched so tightly, her knuckles were bone white. "Put that back."

"We're here to collect Edward's things." Mr. Curtis spoke gently but his voice remained firm.

"But he's coming here." Josephine shot him a glare. "He's coming back here to live. With me." That comment was pointedly thrown Winry's way.

"He is not coming back, Josephine." Winry closed the journal, cradling it in her arms. "He's going away." She wouldn't tell Josephine where, no, not give her any chance to try to locate Edward. "He's sick and he needs to heal and he can't do it here." She crossed the room, moving slow, not getting too close to the taller woman. Lowering her voice, Winry said, "You have to understand that, Josie, that Ed needs to get better. We're going to do everything we can for him but we can't do it here."

Rising to her feet, Josephine stalked toward Winry. "He's coming back here to live." Mr. Curtis moved after her, his gaze not leaving Josephine.

"No." She shook her head slowly, deliberately, not backing away. "Ed's not."

Josephine's fists trembled, the tendons in her neck standing out. "He is." The words came out in a hissed breath.

Winry hated having to tilt her head back to meet Josephine's eyes. The taller woman almost blotted out the room. Winry could just see Mr. Curtis behind her, ready to grab Josephine if he needed to. A memory of the last time she'd been in this apartment came to Winry and she grasped at it. Making her voice calm, matter of fact, she said, "You said I was his goddess, remember? He'll do whatever I tell him to do to make me happy."

The words struck Josephine like a blow, actually making her stagger. "N-no."

Winry took a step toward her, making Josephine back up. "Yes. I've come to claim what's mine, Josephine. You've had your fun with Edward. That's over now." Any sense of compassion she had for the other woman was gone, evaporated like a puddle of water on a hot day. "He won't be coming back here." Josephine's face crumpled at that and she moved jerkily to the sofa, sinking down onto it. Her hands went up to cover her face, the cigarette forgotten as she let out a low, keening moan. Winry swallowed hard but forced herself to ignore the other woman's misery. Turning abruptly, she went on into the bedroom, setting Edward's journal on the dresser before opening the drawers. As she'd suspected, very few were devoted to Edward's use and it didn't take long before his clothing, what little there was of it, was laid out on the bed. Winry found a battered suitcase in the closet and used that to pack the clothing, heading on into the bathroom to search for any more personal items. The toothbrush, she'd leave behind, though the shaving kit and hairbrush, with its telltale golden strands, were going. Winry found a comb that matched the brush and tucked all the bathroom items into the suitcase, taking a final look around the bedroom.

She almost missed the photograph, squirreled away on the bedside table. Winry wasn't sure what made her go look but she caught sight of a flash of red and, before she realized it, she'd moved the base of the lamp out of the way. The picture was faded with dog-eared corners and was of all of them – Edward and Alphonse, Granny, Den and her. Winry wasn't sure she remembered this picture being taken but they were all – mostly – looking toward whoever had taken the photo. She recognized the porch of her old house and Alphonse was still thin, so it was soon after he'd gotten his body back. Alphonse had his arm around her shoulders and her hand was on his thigh. Granny sat next to Winry, a wicked grin wreathing her face as she said something. Den was starting to look back, away from the camera and Edward…his left hand rested on Alphonse's shoulder though the wistful expression on his face was turned toward her.

Swallowing, Winry slipped the photograph inside Ed's journal, putting the book inside the suitcase and closing the lid. She latched it tight, swinging it off the bed, carrying the bag out of the bedroom. "I'm ready, Mr. Curtis."

Josephine looked from him to her, catching her lower lip between her teeth and chewing on it. "He's coming back here, Edward is."

"No." Winry simply felt exhausted, wanted to leave this place. "He never will." Setting down the suitcase, she fished the key out of her pocket, holding it up so Josephine could see it. "Ed's key." She placed it on the table next to the door. "Goodbye, Josephine." Picking up the case, Winry twisted the doorknob, feeling its stiffness before she could pull the door open.

Mr. Curtis caught the door before it could slam shut again, following Winry through it and closing it quietly behind them. He reached for the bag and Winry hesitated before releasing it. "She has to find her own way, Miss Rockbell."

With a jerky nod, Winry started for the stairs. "I know. Everyone does." Some people, she thought, seemed to have to make it much harder on themselves.

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