Chapter 12

6 months passed swiftly. Alphonse began to take on an imperious air that Ed and Winry teased him mercilessly about. Bergman suffered them in his house, only because he took a shine to Winry, who smiled sweetly at him and discussed mechanics with great aptitude. He regarded Edward's half-hearted attempts at common courtesy with tolerance bordering on contempt.

Winry and Edward battled passionately over plans for the workshop, employees, budgets, and everything else. They chose to keep the operations base in Resembool, and had begun construction. Edward's wanderlust reemerged in a tempered form. He took many research trips, ranging from 2 or 3 days to 2 or 3 weeks, though he always felt a quiet relief in returning home. In the beginning, Winry often accompanied him, delighted to finally be escaping Resembool for the rest of the world.

Her enthusiasm soured sooner than she had expected. She was somewhat used to having her competence underestimated due to her age and gender, but customers in Resembool had usually been fairly quick to adjust perspective. Not so in places where the name "Rockbell" was little known. Everywhere they went, men scoffed at the idea of her as chief mechanic. The judgmental stares of innkeeper's wives regarding her lack of wedding ring weighed heavy on her every time she and Ed retired to a shared room. Not that Edward never experienced disregard, but the moment he touted his famous title or showed his silver pocket-watch, he instantly gained respect. When the strain of ignoring the constant snipes began to eat at her, she started making excuses to stay home.

Now she chose the trips carefully, accompanying Ed only when she felt the information she could gain was critical and beyond his scope. As exciting as it was to see new places, she grew tired of being constantly slighted. Somehow, even with all her doubts, the ardor between them hadn't yet cooled significantly, especially after Edward had been gone for a little while.

When Ed had reappeared in her life, her only thought had been that she needed to be with him at any cost. Now that the situation was less fraught with desperation, she was beginning to wonder whether the current state of affairs would ever progress. Throughout their childhood and adolescence, she had always figured that, someday, she and Ed would grow up and get married. There had been no talk of that, however, and she was too loath to disrupt his apparent happiness to bring it up. Also, she was concerned she would get another "that's obvious," which would cause her to go ballistic.

A few days before their first planned trip to provide Mustang with a progress report, Ed noticed Winry had begun to appear ill and run down. She was eating very little, sleeping late, going to bed early, and vanishing from her workshop several times during the day. Worry slowly grew to consuming proportions in Ed. The morning before they were slated to leave for Central, Winry told him she thought she should stay behind.

"Why? Mustang wants to hear from you too, probably more than he wants to hear from me. Besides, you haven't gone anywhere with me in over a month. Aren't you getting sick of being at home?"

She huffed. "I'm just not feeling up to it, okay? And I happen to like my house. You can tell him everything. We've barely gotten started."

"What's the matter? Are you sick or something?"

"Nothing!" she snapped, then stomped off to her workshop. Her watched her carefully. She was even listless about her beloved automail.

Later, watching her poke her dinner around her plate, he exploded, "What's wrong with you? Are you sick?"

She glared, mumbling a reply, "It's probably just a flu."

"It's been days."

"Are you spying on me?"

"I'm just worried about you."

"Butt out! I can worry about myself."

"I think you should go to the doctor."

That brought a spark to her eye. She slammed down her fork. "I'm fine, Ed."

"No, you're being weird. You look sick. You need to go."

She rolled her eyes and pushed her plate away. "Lay off! Who are you to tell me what I need to do? I'm fine. I don't need to go!"

"Yes you do! I'll call Mustang and tell him I'm not coming! I'll hog-tie you and drag you to the doctor if I have to!"

The both stood, facing off across the table.

"I'm a grown-up, Ed! Don't treat me like a baby!"

"Quit acting like one and go to the damn doctor!"

"Why won't you drop it already? I'm fine!"

"That's exactly what my mother said. She died!"

Winry's complexion went completely white. Her legs felt like jelly. His golden eyes were jewel-bright with hurt. The sight cut through her anger like a flaming arrow to the raw wound in her heart where the memory of her parents' death dwelt - the most devastating event of her life. She was still frozen inside that hideous memory of loss when Edward stalked up the stairs and slammed the door to the spare room he had turned into a library.

Edward flung aside books and notes, looking for a clean sheet of paper. He struggled to tamp down on his wild emotions. He wanted to hit someone. He couldn't stand to lose Winry. The terrible abyss he remembered from his mother's death threatened to swallow him whole. If something happened to Winry, all his dreams and plans would be nothing but ash.

He began drafting a furious letter to be delivered to Mustang in lieu of his presence. He didn't trust himself to place a phone call. Plus, the letter would buy him more time from retribution - at least enough time to figure out what the hell was going on with Winry. He was so intent, he didn't hear the door softly open. The slender hand on his shoulder made him start and blot the page.

"Dammit Winry! I'm trying to - " He looked into her melting blue eyes and lost the thread of his words.

"I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't think about that."

Anger still radiated from him. He turned back to his mess of a letter. "No, you didn't. So I'll stay and Mustang can go fuck himself until we figure this out. I think that's a good line. 'Go fuck yourself.' Should I underline 'fuck?'"

"Stop. You need to go. This is the beginning of our project. He hasn't even confirmed the funding. What if the Council pulls the plug because you weren't there?"

"I don't care. This is more important."

"I care. I promise I'll go tomorrow after you leave."

He cast a cold, accusatory glare at her. "I don't know. Can I trust you to actually go?"

"Don't start this bullshit! I said I would," she snapped, shifting effortlessly from soft to snarling. "You made your point, okay?"

Ed was silent for a moment. "Fine. But I'm sending Al with you."

Winry's eyes went from blue to blue-grey. She growled. "So now I need a babysitter?"

"I need to know that someone is going to take care of you if you're not okay. Al might seem soft, but he's even more stubborn than I am. He's the only person I trust with your life."

Her angry retort died on her lips. Of all the things she had imagined in a relationship with Ed, this intense protective streak surprised her. Ed was still stiff, glittering with offense. Love and exasperation wound themselves into a knot in her head. Winry slid into his lap, shoving his pen aside. He sat like a wooden doll, totally unresponsive, even as she laid her face into his neck. However, when she nipped his earlobe a little roughly, he relented utterly, sweeping her up in his intensity.

Not long afterward, Winry snored lightly. Edward crept out of the bedroom and downstairs to the phone, steeped in worry. It was late enough that the servant at the Governor's mansion answered moodily.

"Master Alphonse is abed Mister Elric." The "Mister Elric" part oozed distaste.

"So go wake him up," sniped Edward testily. "Tell him it's his brother." The servant sighed in response. Ed tapped his metal fingers on the table, making a little tune out of his impatience. Relief washed through him as soon as Al picked up the receiver.

"What's wrong, brother?'

"Nothing. Everything."

"Okay. Start at the beginning."

They talked long and quietly, well after Ed had disclosed his predicament. Edward drifted along paths of memory to nights in unfamiliar rooms, Al's voice piping through the armor in the darkness - the only thing keeping bloodcurdling nightmares at bay. He clung to the calm, intelligent sound of his brother's voice tonight in exactly the same way. The night was very deep when Edward finally ended the conversation. He curled himself around Winry, drinking in the comfort of her presence.

Edward left shortly after dawn, extracting whispered promises from a deeply drowsy Winry. She drifted almost instantly back into a deep sleep, absent of the occasional guilty pangs that troubled her when she slept in.

Edward usually sprang out of bed just after dawn, as fresh as Apollo hopping into the sun chariot. Winry had never been much of a morning person. His vivid alertness grated on her nerves in the early hours. Since she had been staying home during his research trips, she found herself reveling in quiet mornings alone. She loved to just lay in bed, dozing on and off for a couple hours before starting her day.

This morning's reverie was interrupted by polite knocking on her bedroom door. She pulled the sheet over her head, groaning. Edward had somehow made good on his threat to bring in Alphonse, the only person in the world who would barge right into her house, then be polite at the door to her room. The gentle tapping sounded again.

"Yes, Alphonse! I heard you! Can't a girl sleep in once in a while?" she shouted, more waspishly than intended to the door.

She heard his tread creeping back down the stairs. Oddly, his thoughtfulness irked her. Edward would have burst in and started shouting, or at the very least, stomped down the stairs, then banged some things around in the living room. He would have shown some signs of life. It was impossible to vent frustration on someone as considerate as Alphonse. She had been so looking forward to some time away from Ed's shifting moods. She was doubly annoyed to find she missed it. Everything seemed colorless without him.

Al was waiting patiently in the living room, absorbed in some obscure tome, as usual.

"So, you're here to be my warden?"

Al blushed. "No, I'm just here to keep you company."

Winry glared, sticking her hands on her hips. "I don't need you to come with me. I've been taking care of myself for a while now."

Winry was gearing up for a ripping argument. Al's expression just filled with compassion. Too late, she remembered that it was almost impossible to argue with Alphonse without coming off as a complete ass. He stood up and put an arm around her.

"You're not on your own. Ed's really worried and so am I. You're my family. I want to make sure you're all right."

Winry burst into noisy tears, clutching his surprisingly boyish frame. Sometimes it was hard to recall how much younger he was than he should be. She pulled away from him, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so upset."

Al hugged her and grinned. "I think I know why, but Ed's not exactly very good at being practical, especially when it comes to something he cares about. Let's go see the doctor and make it official."

Winry flopped onto the couch. "I'm scared to tell him, Al. I don't know what he'll say." She looked pleadingly at Al. "What if he doesn't want it?"

Tears began spilling over again. She put her face in her hands. Al sighed. At times like these, he resented being the only one among the three of them capable of acting like an adult. Al sat down next to her.

"You know Ed. When you tell him, he'll probably say something really stupid and insensitive because he'll be scared to death. It will probably take him a few days to pull his head out of his ass and think about you. Once he gets over worrying about himself, I think he'll be really happy. You just have to trust him."

"I just don't know."

Al finally vented his own irritation. "Well, you're both being totally stupid. You couldn't even keep your hands off each other in public, much less in private. Remember how Mr. Simms caught you guys in the coat closet at the winter ball? What did you expect?"

The corners of Winry's mouth lifted. In the rare moments that Al lost his temper, he looked exactly like Edward. She patted his knee, resolving to take on a more cheerful attitude.

"All right, Al. You're right. We're idiots. And that was one of the most humiliating moments of my entire life, by the way. Let's go."

Al followed her out the door, bewildered by her sudden shift of mood. She grinned at his dazed expression. "Just in case you got the wrong impression earlier, I'm glad you're here," she said, taking his arm as they walked into town.

Al chuckled. "I'll never figure you two out. Don't worry. It'll turn out okay. He loves you."

She sighed dramatically. "I know."

Edward called Winry early in the evening. Relief poured through him when he heard her voice crackling across the distance.

"Hello?"

"So, what's wrong?"

She blew out an exasperated breath into the receiver. "Nice to talk to you too. Nothing's wrong. I'm fine, just like I told you."

"Did you actually go?"

"Yes, Ed! I'm fine! Perfect health. Do you want a telegram from the damn doctor?"

"So why have you been so tired? You're barely eating. What about that?"

"I'm just in a funk. I'm okay."

"Why are you in a funk? What's the matter?" he asked, slightly frantic.

"We can talk about it when you get home.

"Why? Did I do something wrong? Is it my fault? Are you sick of me?"

Winry could hear the barely masked panic in his voice. Her tone softened. "I love you right now even more than I did yesterday. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Because . . . it's just something I want to tell you in person. Please . . . just trust me?"

There was a long pause. "Fine. Just as long as you promise you're okay."

Winry smiled. "I promise. When are you coming home?"

"In a few days. I need to look into some things in the library Can it wait a few days?"

"Of course. I'll be here."

Less than 5 minutes later, Al answered the call he's been expecting all evening. "Hello, brother."

The was a shocked pause. "How did you know it was me?"

"I know how long the train takes, you needed to get a hotel room, call Winry, talk long enough to get pissed off, then my phone rings approximately as expected."

"Damn! Am I really that predictable?"

Al laughed. The sound took some of the weight from Ed's shoulders. If Al was this cheery, surely there was nothing to worry about.

"Only to me. Everyone else finds you very confusing."

Ed grunted. "So . . . um . . . how are you?"

Al laughed again. "Now you're trying to be polite? You must be the sick one. She's fine. She'll be ready to pick a fight with you as soon as you get back. I'll tell her to use the heavy wrench so you'll believe her."

"Then what's wrong with her? She told me she wouldn't talk to me until I got back. I know she tells you everything. You're her little gal pal."

There was a long silence. Ed piped in again. "Don't try to lie to me. You're a terrible liar. I always know when you're lying, even when I can't see your face."

There was another long pause. "Al? Hello?"

"It's for Winry to tell you, brother. I can't."

"Is it really bad?"

"No. It's good."

"Then why can't you just tell me?"

"Because she has to be the one to tell you this. I can tell you that you should really start thinking about your future together."

"What the hell does that mean? Is she leaving me or something?"

"Ed, everything is going to be just fine. Just . . . just think about what kind of future you want with her, okay?"

"Enough with the riddles!"

"Goodnight, brother. Be safe."

Edward was left staring incredulously at a buzzing receiver.