Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. That credit goes to the genius Hiromu Arakawa.
A/N: OK, so I know everyone was really pleased to see a return to the Kluge plot in the last chapter, and that is why I hope no one is too disappointed that this chapter involves very little action and is once again back to the dialogue/family drama format that has pretty much dominated the last several chapters. This is just filler. I really wanted to have one more look at these characters as a family unit before I send them off to Paris where they will eventually be separated. I also want to build on certain relationships, in particular the Ed/Eddie and Ed/Winry/Eddie ones.
Also, something pretty major happens in this chapter. I'm sure all of you will figure it out.
So, don't be mad. In fact, I'm hoping you'll think this is cute.
Enjoy!
Little Things
Germany
27. Sept. 28
***
"Achoo!"
"Told you you'd catch a cold." Ed scolded smartly as Winry fumbled for a handkerchief on the side table.
"It's not a cold." she insisted as she wiped her nose. "Just the sniffles. The rain always makes my nose run."
"Bullshit." Ed muttered lowly enough that only Winry and not the other occupants in the room heard his curse.
Yafit and Eddie were happily playing with a set of tin trains. Paz was seated by the large sitting room window pretending that he was absorbed in a book of Edgar Allen Poe horror stories when he was really more interested in shooting furtive glances across the room at Ruth who was rather listlessly leaning against the radio, half-listening to a weather broadcast. The normally strong and active ten year old seemed transformed into a sullen and very sad little girl. In fact, it had not gone without notice that Ruth and Paz hadn't said a single word to each other since earlier in the afternoon, making the adults wonder if something had happened between the pair. However, they weren't speaking, and until they did, Ed, Winry, Al and Noa could only speculate. Al and Noa were sitting in the kitchen folding linens and chatting softly, both blushing adorably when their hands would brush together. Winry and Ed had overtaken the chesterfield, Ed stripped of his shirt and forced to hold his right arm over his head so that Winry could work on the nerve connectors inside of his armpit.
"Winry, you've been at this for twenty minutes. Can't we call it quits?" Ed groaned.
"Just a few more minutes, Ed. I think I've got it." Winry insisted, scooting closer to Ed, which forced her to throw her right leg across his lap and hike her nightgown up even more over her thighs.
Ed gulped, his golden eyes fixated on the pale skin revealed to him, beads of sweat gathering around his ears and neck. She was doing that infuriating tongue thing again and it was driving him up the wall with want for her. He wondered if he should suggest they move to the bedroom, for comfort's sake of course, and then, once they were locked away and alone, he was sure he could come up with some excuse for Winry to take off that damn nightgown…
"I can't stand this." he grunted.
"I know it's a pain, Ed, but if I can just get at the right connectors your shoulder won't ache so badly."
"Huh?" Ed asked, his mind momentarily suspended as he tried to decipher Winry's words.
What did his aching joints have to do with being horney?
"I'm going to loosen your nerve connectors, remember?" Winry asked, her large blue eyes questioning of her friend's memory. "The rain's made it really humid and you were complaining about the arthritis in your automail shoulder."
"Yeah." Ed answered slowly, his mind finally leaving the desperate needs of his crotch and returning to the moment at hand.
"I told you I'd learned of a way to alleviate some of the pain by loosening your primary nerve connector. Honestly, I know you find automail dull but please try and keep up." Winry lectured as she continued to probe inside of Ed's armpit, seeking the proper cable line. "This isn't working. Yafit, could you please go to my toolbox and grab the torch and red fabric and bring them to me?"
Always anxious to help, the six year old did as she was asked and brought the two items to Winry.
"Thank you." Winry said as she took the objects from the girl and turned on the torch so that she could get a better look at the interior of the automail. "I think I see it. Yafit, would you like to be my assistant?"
"OK." the little girl agreed, her bright smile reminding Winry so much of Elicia Hughes.
"Hold the torch so that the light shines here." Winry instructed, giving Yafit the tool. The six year old did as she was bade, a stern expression on her young face as she took her task very seriously. Winry smiled and unfolded the red fabric to remove the spectacles that were nestled inside. She put on the specialty glasses, fitted with a pair of magnifying lenses, and let the red fabric fall onto her lap without a second thought. Adjusting the focus on her glasses, Winry pressed her face close to the automail and resumed her work.
Ed smirked down at her.
"Don't start." She warned, knowing how ridiculous he looked in the glasses, allowing Ed only a few chuckles before punching him in the chest. Ed rubbed the spot where Winry had thumped him and rolled his eyes, resigned to the fact that he would be stuck on the couch, shirtless, with his right arm forced above his head until Winry was satisfied.
It could be a long night.
"Gnugh!"
Ed looked down to his left and spotted his son struggling to pull himself up onto the couch. Unable to move too much, Ed was able to grasp one of Eddie's arms and hoist him up. The little blond boy easily nestled himself at his father's side, leaning into Ed with a comfortable sigh. Ed looked down at Eddie with warm eyes and patted his head.
"What 'cha up to , little man?"
"Bored." Eddie answered. "I missed you today. I wanted to go, too."
"I know, Eddie. Soon, you'll get to come with me. I promise."
Eddie harrumphed and crossed his arms as he pouted.
"Are you mad? Even after I brought you back your favorite treat?" Ed asked a little incredulously. Eddie's large golden eyes strayed to the brown paper bag on the side table, pieces of soft black licorice peeking out from the opening. Still, Eddie said nothing and continued to sulk. "Well," Ed sighed, "I guess if you're so mad then you mustn't want the licorice. I'll just have to eat it by myself. All of it."
"No!" Eddie demanded. "I be good. I not mad."
Ed chuckled at his child, remembering that he used to be just as compliant to his mother's every command whenever she threatened to not save a share of stew for him.
Relieved that his licorice wasn't going to be taken away, Eddie and his father lapsed into a cozy silence as Winry continued to tinker with Ed's automail.
After a few moments, Ed nudged Eddie. The three year old looked up at his father curiously. Ed had a mischievous smirk on his face and his calculating eyes were darting downward. Following his father's gaze, Eddie discovered that Winry's bare foot was resting before him. Still unsure of what his father was planning, Eddie watched as Ed stealthily snuck his left hand towards Winry's foot. With practiced fingers, Ed tickled Winry's defenseless appendage.
Eddie laughed as Winry's toes curls and she jolted her foot back and wiggled it around, doing her best to avoid Ed's fingers. Chuckling, Ed then took Eddie's hand and brought it to Winry's foot and together they ran their fingers all along the arch of her foot, poking at her toes and curving around her calloused heel. The whole time father and son were tickle-torturing her, Winry never uttered a protest. She was deeply concentrated on her work on Ed's automail, although she was lowly growling and gnashing her teeth together as she moved her foot back and forth in a futile attempt to escape Ed and Eddie's fingers. Delighted with the prank, Eddie began to chortle, the sound filling the apartment and spreading a magic throughout the room as if it was a fairy's spell.
The three year old slipped his small hand out of his father's and began to clap his hands as he expressed his joy.
Ed suddenly stopped laughing, his body stiff and alert, and his mind rigid and focused.
It was faint, barely a tingle, but it was a familiar jolt of electricity that made the hair on Ed's body stand on end and his heart rate speed up exponentially.
Alchemy.
He could feel alchemy in the air.
To explain the sensation of alchemy to a non-alchemist, one would claim the feeling was akin to an electric shock that formed at the base of the brain and traveled in one coursing wave down the spine and through the arms until it erupted from one's hands. It was energy and power that required control and concentration and those who were in-tune with that energy could sense it when someone close by was performing alchemy.
Ed hadn't felt that sharp electric rush in years.
After all, alchemy didn't exist on this side of the Gate…but this feelings in his blood…
It was an alchemic reaction, he knew it!
Eddie clapped his hands again.
Terrified, believing that it couldn't be true, that it wasn't possible, Ed turned towards his child.
Eddie was still giggling from the round of foot-tickling, clapping his hands in a natural, childish manner. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but that feeling…that feeling that there was alchemy…Ed had to be certain.
Holding his breath, the man who had once been known as the Fullmetal Alchemist watched his son's hands intently and waited. Just as the boy's palms were about to touch Ed was certain he could see a spark of blue energy…
"OUCH!"
"Got it!" Winry exclaimed happily, removing her glasses and smiling radiantly.
"Woman, that hurt!" Ed whined, gripping his right side just under his port.
"Consider it revenge for teaching your son how to be a brat." Winry grumbled. "So? How does your shoulder feel?"
Ed took a moment to collect his thoughts before rotating his shoulder. The sharp jolt from the shock had already faded and Ed focused on the movements of his right side, noting that the muscles around the port no longer burned with that terrible stiff ache. In fact, all that he could feel was a dull soreness, equivalent to how the muscles might burn after an intense workout.
"That's amazing!" Ed exclaimed, lowering his arm and flexing the fingers, surprised with the range of movement he still had. "It feels like all the pressure has been released."
"It has. The nerves need to be tight in order for the automail to perform at one hundred percent. By loosening the main connector at your port your arm is now at about sixty percent operational."
"Which means?"
"Don't try to pick up anything heavier than eighteen pounds with that arm. Otherwise, you'll completely detach all of your connectors and you'll have a dead arm."
"Seems like a lot of trouble just to alleviate some arthritis." Ed commented.
"Tell that to anyone who has automail at the height of the rainy season. Besides, you can't admit that you don't feel better." Winry answered, removing her glasses and stretching, the bones in her back popping softly.
"When will you tighten the nerve?" Ed wondered.
"In the morning. By then, this humidity shouldn't be so bad."
"Is it gonna hurt?" Ed asked wearily, unprepared to go trough the debilitating pain of limb connection every time it rained. Winry smiled sympathetically and gently patted Ed's automail arm.
"Just a shock, like when I loosened the nerve. I know you felt that."
Winry chuckled and Ed grimaced.
Suddenly, Ed's head twisted to look at Eddie, still tucked against his side. The child was languidly playing with a loose thread on Ed's trousers, no longer clapping excitedly. There was no shift in the air, no strange current of electricity, no alchemic energy…nothing. Taking the three year old's hands, Ed forced them together in a clap, staring expectantly at the fingers, seeking that familiar rush of blue energy.
Still, there was nothing.
"Daddy?" Eddie asked. Ed sighed, releasing his son's hands and lowering his head in defeat.
He had been stupid to believe, even for a moment…
'I can't believe I'm still having withdrawals after this long. I'm going crazy.' Ed mused as he passed a hand through his loose hair. Those rushed feelings of tingling power couldn't have come from Eddie. Alchemy didn't exist in this world. There was no possible way that Ed could have picked up on those specific energy waves. He had simply been feeling the backlash of Winry's nerve tampering, that last strong shock of energy obviously having come from her loosening his connector. That had been where the spine-tingling sensation came from.
It wasn't alchemy.
It wasn't possible.
"Well, now that that's done." Winry sighed, pushing herself off of the couch. "Thank you for being such a good helper, Yafit."
"You're welcome." Yafit answered, exceptionally pleased with herself. She smiled up at Winry with adoring eyes before spotting something on the floor by the mechanic's feet and picked it up. "What's this?"
Winry and Ed looked down at the six year old girl. She was holding the red fabric by a corner leaving the mark that was on it open for all in the room to see.
Al gasped.
Ed gaped.
Winry blushed.
Ed slowly took the fabric from Yafit. He reverently ran his fingers over the black markings that stood out starkly against the red, as if in a trance. His thumbs traced over the form of the serpent delicately.
"Flamel's Cross." Ed sighed. "Winry? Where did you get this?"
"I…well, you see…uh…look, when you and Al were gone I got lonely so I had a red coat made that looked like the ones you used to wear. It…it made me feel like you and Al were walking beside me. But then when I came here Gracia thought I should burn all of my old clothes. I wanted to keep that symbol, though. Even though I never really understood what it meant, it was a part of you two…the only part I had left, really."
Ed stayed quiet as he continued to caress the black symbol on red fabric. Al joined his older brother in admiring the small piece of their lives, of their art, that they had never thought they would see or touch again.
"It's an alchemy symbol that dates back hundreds of years in our country." Al stated softly, also reaching out to touch the symbol. "It represents the 'truth'. An alchemist is supposed to seek and spread the truth with their science. Alchemists have the ability to destroy and create, and that knowledge wields a great responsibility…this symbol…Teacher's symbol…we wore it so that we would always remember how dangerous alchemy is, not just for us, but for everyone."
"You two would carry something heavy like this on your backs all those years." Winry joked. "I just thought it looked interesting."
"You would think that." Ed parroted.
"Do you want it back?" Winry asked.
"Naw." Ed said, taking Winry's mechanic's glasses from her and wrapping them securely in the fabric. "You can hang on to it for me."
"Alright." Winry said, putting the glasses and red cloth back in her toolbox and then rejoined the group to enjoy a fairly peaceful evening, the only outbursts Winry's occasional loud sneezes.
Germany
29. Sept. 28
***
"Hello?"
"Yo! Ed? That you?"
"Maybe."
"Uno est omnis. Omnis est Uno."
"Tout est le monde. L'un m'est."
"Do we have to do this every time I call?" Hughes grunted, annoyed. "A code in foreign languages won't mean a thing if the phones are tapped."
"Good thing the number is unavailable to anyone who hasn't personally been told it by me." Ed answered smartly.
"You mean good thing nobody's thought of tapping the phones in your building. I swear, Ed, Kluge would have your ass on a platter if I was his right-hand man." Hughes griped.
"Yeah." Ed responded sadly. "Guess I'm lucky."
"Ah, come on! Why do you always sound sad when I joke about that? You know I'd never actually team up with that man. I mean, you hate the bastard just as much as I do." Hughes argued.
"Is there something you have to report?" Ed grumbled, not prepared to get into a discussion about the sometimes jarring reversal of the relationship between Hughes and Mustang. It only brought up bad memories and things Ed didn't want to dwell on.
"Oh, you're moody. I thought you'd be a little more relaxed now that your girlfriend was with you."
"I'm not talking about this, Hughes! Be serious!" Ed bellowed, a vein in his forehead beginning to throb. It was really amazing. Even after all of these years, whenever he was being teased about his relationship with Winry, Ed completely lost his cool.
"So you're not getting anywhere with her, eh?" Hughes sympathized. "Don't worry about it, Ed. Gracia did the same thing to me, the tease. Pretending not to want me while cleverly ensnaring me with her coy smile and come-hither eyes. One day, I just couldn't take it anymore! So I pulled her into my arms and bent her over…"
"Bullshit! You were so shy with her that she had to ask you out first! Now cut the crap and tell me why you fucking called!" Ed roared, his face magenta with unbridled horror as he envisioned just what Hughes had done when he took Gracia in his arms and bent her over.
Ed shuddered.
"Daddy said a bad word." Eddie squealed happily from his perch on the kitchen counter. Ed rolled his eyes, knowing he was in for another lecture from Noa if she found out that he had cursed in front of Eddie.
By mistake.
Again.
"Listen, Ed, I'm calling because Kluge's up to something."
"What? Is he sending another artillery shipment across the boarder?"
"No, but according to Armstrong, Kluge's been seeking other transportation for his current shipment. He's only managed to change trains at the Freiburg station, so far. I don't have a train number, but I do know that it is scheduled to leave one day earlier than originally planned."
"Damn!" Ed hissed. "We need a number. If I loose track of those weapons I won't be able to find out why Kluge's having them shipped to Paris."
"We've still got five days." Hughes consoled. "If you have to go on ahead with Al and Noa and Winry have to stay behind with the kids, then that shouldn't be too much of an issue. I doubt Winry would mind."
"Yeah." Ed muttered, lowering his head in proper guilt.
After that long night of baring himself to Winry for her to reject or accept, after discovering that they finally had a chance to truly be together, after swearing that he would never keep a single secret from her, Ed had chosen not to tell Winry of his plan to track Kluge's weapons into Paris while at the same time escorting Yafit, Paz and Ruth to their new families. If he told her about the mission to follow an artillery train and infiltrate Kluge's storehouse, Winry would only worry, or tell him it was dangerous, or make him promise to not go or worse, she might demand to come along.
And Ed wouldn't risk her.
Not again.
So instead, he risked her trust in him by keeping this one secret. After the mission was over, after he knew what Kluge was planning, then Ed would tell Winry. She would be mad, he didn't doubt, and she would rant and threaten and likely beat him severely with her stupid wrench, but in the end, she would forgive him because she would come to realize that he was trying to protect her.
That was his decision and that outcome was the best he could hope for.
"There's something else." Hughes said, cutting through Ed's personal dilemma. "Riza Spitzer, aka Eaglewing, left the Fortress two days ago. She hasn't been seen since and her whereabouts are unknown."
"That's weird." Ed admitted.
"It's more than weird, it's unheard of." Hughes stressed his voice thick with crucial seriousness. "You need to understand, Ed, Roy Kluge would never let Riza Spitzer out of his sight unless it was for something of major importance. If she's not in the Fortress and no one can account for her whereabouts except for Kluge, then this is critical."
"You make it sound like he's in love with her." Ed joked lamely, having been long aware that there was an unspoken, emotional relationship between Kluge and his bodyguard. The knowledge that the Roy and Riza from his world had married and started a family only strengthened Ed's belief in the bond between Kluge and Eaglewing. Still, Ed did not fully grasp why Eaglewing's absence from the Fortress was as crucial a detail as Hughes believed it to be.
"Do not take this lightly." Hughes warned. "It might seem like something of little matter, but if Kluge sent Riza away you can bet it must involve something very dangerous. I'll keep my nose to the ground and try to trace her. I've also got Armstrong looking for any useful information. When I learn more about the train I'll let you know. Goodbye."
Hughes hung up and Ed stared at the phone, the dead silence holding him captive as his mind processed what his friend had told him. It wasn't often that Maes Hughes became overwhelmingly serious so it made one pay keen attention.
"Daddy! Water's boiling!" Eddie reported, his little voice tinged with the slightest traces of worry. Ed hung up the phone and turned back to his son.
Eddie was seated on the kitchen counter, a foot away from the stove, his golden eyes focused on the large pot whose contents were bubbling. Ed wasn't worried about Eddie burning himself. The child had already suffered a nasty burn to his left hand six months ago when he had touched the stove after he had been warned not to. Like his father, Eddie was a fast learner and Ed was confident that a repeat of the incident wasn't likely to occur.
"Hand me the empty bowl." Ed asked as he stood before the pot. Eddie did and watched with quiet interest as his father fished out two large soup bones and placed them in the bowl. "Now the carrots." Eddie followed Ed's instructions with perfect precision, passing his father handfuls of the chopped vegetables. He was proud to be helping his father cook, especially because he had never known his father to cook anything.
"Is it soup yet?" Eddie asked once Ed had added onions, potatoes, celery, garlic, cabbage, some herbs and a few scraps of beef.
"Not yet, but soon." Ed promised.
"Is it gonna make Winnie better?"
"I hope so. Your grandma Trisha used to make this soup for me whenever I got sick and I always felt better after I had some."
"Magic soup!" Eddie chirped.
"That's what your granny called it." Ed said with a smile as he patted his child on the head. "You're a good helper. I think this will make Winry feel all better."
Like Ed had predicted two days ago when they got caught in the rain, Winry had indeed caught a slight cold. The whole day before she had done nothing but sneeze and complain about achy muscles and some inflammation around the stitches in her left arm. She had been hoping to remove the threads from her wound, but had decided to wait for the swelling to go down before attempting that. When she had awoken the following morning, still sneezing, still achy and still stuck with an inflamed injury, Ed had forced Winry to spend the day in bed and recover. He gave her free reign of his room, left a cup and water jug on the bedside table, put some salve on her stitches, gave her some aspirin and told her to wait in bed and read while he made her some soup.
Al, Noa, Ruth, Paz and Yafit had decided to spend the day out in the city. Not only would it be one of the last chances that they would get to be together, but it wouldn't do for any of them to catch Winry's sniffles just before they were to leave for Paris. So it was Ed, Eddie and Winry in the apartment.
For Ed, it was comfortable to be alone with just Eddie and Winry. In a way, it felt like the three of them were a family, which was as wonderful as it was surreal. Up until a week ago, Ed had only dreamed of what his life would be like if he and Winry had ended up together. It had been a perfect ideal, something he could never actually achieve. And now, here he was with his son, making his mother's beef vegetable soup for an ailing Winry.
Ed smiled.
This feeling of the three of them being a family…it was nice.
Really nice.
"Daddy?" Eddie asked quietly. Ed stopped stirring the soup to look at his son.
"Yes?"
"Is…is Winnie my mommy?"
Ed frowned instantly and Eddie lowered his golden gaze in shame, his chubby fingers playing with the buttons on his trousers. Reaching into his back pocket, Ed pulled out his wallet and removed a frayed and creased photograph. He held the picture up for Eddie to see and urged the three year old to look at the smiling woman whose image was forever captured in black and white on the thick card.
It was Manka, dressed in a simple gown on the day she and Ed married. She was smiling happily, her black eyes shinning like dark little stars. It was the only photograph Ed had of his late wife and he had kept it on his person for the last three years knowing a time would come when Eddie would ask about his mother. The boy had already seen the picture many times, had listened to Ed tell stories about Manka and her piano playing and her unending love for her child. He had asked before where his mother was and tried very hard to understand the concept and limitations of death. Ed had believed Eddie had a grasp on what it meant to be dead, but the boy's question about Winry proved that the three year old was having difficulties comprehending his relationships to both women.
"This is your mommy, Eddie. Remember? I've showed you this picture a hundred times." Ed explained softly, placing a large comforting hand on Eddie's knee.
"I 'member." Eddie mumbled, taking the picture from his father. "You said mommy died and that now she was in the earth and in the trees and in the animals. You said she's everywhere, so I thought…if she's everywhere, isn't she in Winnie, too?"
"Oh, buddy." Ed sighed, kissing the child's brow. "It's different for people. You're mommy's son, so you are the only person in the whole world that has a part of her inside of you. I don't, and neither does Uncle Al or Auntie Noa or Winry."
"Oh…"
"But that little piece of your mommy inside of you…that makes you very, very special. You should be happy." Ed reasoned as best he could. Eddie studied the picture of his mother a little longer before handing it back to his father. Ed placed the photograph back into his wallet and hugged his child.
"So, if Winnie's not my mommy…then who is she?" Eddie wondered.
Biting his lip, Ed took a moment to try and explain Winry's place in Eddie's life that wouldn't be beyond the three year old's level of understanding. To be honest, Ed himself wasn't even sure of the role Winry was going to play in their lives. While they had spoken of their pasts and agreed that there was a long-lasting attraction between them, Winry had suggested that they not pursue a relationship right away and instead take the time to discover the adults they had become. That, however, implied that he and Winry would be together romantically in the future, which would mean that she would be Eddie's stepmother…
Ed could feel a headache coming on, hoping he wasn't catching some of Winry's cold.
In truth, Ed didn't think he and Winry needed to take the time to rediscover each other. He knew everything about Winry that was important, like her indomitable spirit, her generosity, her courage and strength and her passion of her work and for life. If he could have things his way, he and Winry would be…well, not just friends. But he had waited for her, mourned her, loved her, and he respected her, and if Winry wanted to take things slow then he wouldn't argue.
Still, how to explain that to Eddie…
Placing his hand on Eddie's head, Ed forced the child to look him in the eye as he spoke.
"She's your Winnie." Ed stated firmly. "And she'll always be your Winnie."
Eddie nodded slowly and Ed hoped the three year old understood. He wanted Eddie to like Winry, to respect her and look up to her and maybe, one day, to think of her as a mother.
However, who knew when, or if, that day would come.
"Here, have a taste." Ed asked, wanting to change the subject. He dipped a wooden spoon into the soup and offered it to Eddie. The three year old blew on the steaming liquid and took a tentative sip.
"Yummy." he said honestly.
"Think Winry will like it?"
"Yup! It'll make her all better." Eddie assured. Ed smiled and began to prepare a tray for Winry, including a few pieces of bread slathered with butter and some cheese to go along with the soup. He even cut up a peach he had swiped from a fruit stand and arranged the pieces delicately on a plate before filling a bowl of hot beef soup. Helping Eddie off of the counter, Ed then took the tray into his bedroom.
"You can't come in, Eddie." Ed warned, knowing the three year old was hoping to sneak into the bedroom by walking closely behind his father. "You don't want to catch Winry's cold."
"It's hardly a cold, Ed." Winry grumbled. "It's just the sniffles and few aching muscles. I'm actually much better than I was yesterday."
"That's because today you rested and stayed in bed like I told you to." Ed answered smartly, waiting for Winry to shuffle some of the books she had been reading aside so that he could place the tray on her lap.
"It's good soup, Winnie. Daddy made it." Eddie reported, standing in the doorway of the bedroom cutely. The pride in his voice as he spoke of his father's kind gesture did not go unnoticed by the incapacitated mechanic.
"I think I'm scared." Winry teased, dipping her spoon in the soup and giving the dark brown broth a critical inspection.
"Just eat it." Ed moaned, filling her glass with water and taking a seat beside her on the bed. "So, what have you been reading?"
"History." Winry answered, taking a small sip of soup and swirling it around in her mouth as if she was a noted wine taster. Ed watched her with an annoyed expression as she made a show of savoring the soup and swallowing it.
"Did you taste the poison I snuck in there?" he asked, his voice soaked in sarcasm. Winry stuck out her tongue and continued to slurp the soup with healthy vigor.
"Not bad." she offered. "Almost as good as my apple pie. I'll have to make you some."
"That'd be great. It's my favorite." Ed said, relaxing beside her. He looked back towards the door and noticed his son was still standing in the archway, desperate to cross the barrier and sit with his father and Winry. He looked sad and put out, like a puppy kept locked in a house on a sunny afternoon. "Eddie, go grab a cushion and some toys and bring them to the door. You can't come in but you can sit by the door and talk to us, OK."
"Kay!" Eddie squealed happily before running off.
"Doesn't take much to make him happy." Ed whispered in amazement.
"That's just because he likes to be close to you." Winry answered, dipping a piece of bread into the soup. "I can understand how he feels."
Ed blushed at Winry's words and moved himself a little closer to her so that their thighs were brushing together. They sat in silence for a moment, Winry eating and Ed daydreaming, before Eddie returned to the doorway. He sat down on a large cushion which looked like it came from the plush chair in the sitting room, and he held in his arms the model automail hand Winry had given him to play with as there were no sharp edges he could hurt himself on. He sat contentedly on the cushion, smiled at the adults on the bed and began to tinker with the mechanical appendage.
"Only you would give a kid automail to play with." Ed groused, images flashing through his mind of his son frolicking among a field of screwdrivers and wrenches.
"Oh please! I was playing with automail when I was even younger than Eddie and look how I turned out." Winry said with pride. Before Ed could offer a smart-ass reply, Winry shoved the book she had been reading into his hands and returned to sipping her soup. "Go on, read to me and Eddie." she ordered.
"Where were you?" Ed asked, looking down at the book and noticing it was text on Greek mythology.
"Read about the hero who flew too close to the sun with wax wings. That one was always your favorite, wasn't it?" Winry asked. Ed smiled softly at the woman beside him and sunk deeper into the mattress before flipping the pages of the book to the proper chapter. Clearing his throat, Ed began to read.
"OK, we're here. You can pick any pastry you want." Al promised.
"Really?!" Yafit exclaimed, pulling excitedly on Al's hair as she jostled around on his shoulders. "I can get anything?"
"Sure." Al answered, his smile brilliant and warm.
"That movie was so good!" Yafit said. "My favorite part was when the building fell and the man didn't get squished but went right through the window! What was his name, again?"
"Buster Keaton." Al answered, adjusting his hold on Yafit.
The seventeen year old kept one hand clutched around the child's ankle, the other swung by his side, purposely brushing against the warm coffee colored skin of the Roma woman who walked bedside him. His fingers reached out for hers, enticing and charming like a butterfly's wings, coaxing her to try and capture them. He couldn't contain his overjoyed grin when Noa took his invitation and linked her fingers tightly with his, her gentle smile equally matching his in contentedness. They were holding hands, enjoying each other's company as well as the distraction offered by the three children that they would soon have to reluctantly give up.
After Noa's fight with Ruth two days ago, and because of Winry's minor cold, Al had decided that a day out with the kids was in order. Though their funds were already stretched thin, Al managed to get together enough marks to afford an afternoon movie and a pastry each for everyone from a nearby bakery.
"Do you know what you're going to get?" Al asked Yafit.
"A cinnamon roll." the child answered immediately. "And I want it this big!" She stretched her arms out as far as they would go to emphasize her desire.
"That big?!" Al asked. "You'll never eat it all!
"Yes I will!" Yafit said confidently. "And I'm not gonna share, 'specially not with Ruth."
Speaking of the ten year old, Al and Noa turned their attention towards the moody girl, noting that she didn't acknowledge Yafit's quip and, in fact, hadn't been tormenting the younger girl for nearly two days.
Not since the fight.
For two days Ruth had been disturbingly subdued, completely unlike her usual fiery self, and what bothered Noa and Al the most was that Paz, just as vibrant and hot-headed as Ruth, had also been suspiciously quiet for those same two days. They were acting terribly awkward around one another, something that had never been an issue before. Noa hadn't failed to notice that Ruth and Paz were going to extreme lengths to avoid one another, even refusing to look at each other, and always keeping Al, Noa and Yafit as a comfortable three person barrier between them. As it was, Ruth was currently dragging her feet alongside Noa while Paz was slowly strolling beside Al.
Seeing the ten year old girl glance with fright at Paz for easily the fiftieth time, Noa decided that something had to be done, especially when they were so close to sending the children away, likely to never see them again.
She was hoping that she could say goodbye to Ruth having forgiven and forgotten their angry words, but if that was not possible, Noa refused to leave Ruth when the young girl was so obviously confused and troubled with Paz.
"Alphonse, you Paz and Yafit go on into the bakery. Ruth and I will find a place to sit in the outdoor veranda." Noa suggested. Her husband threw her a curious glance but did not question her when he spotted the calm determination in her dark brown eyes. He nodded, released her hand, placed an arm around Paz's shoulders, and walked into the bakery.
Noa put a hand on the top of Ruth's head and directed the ten year old towards an empty table set along the side of the bakery. When she sat down she encouraged Ruth to sit on her lap, cradling the girl as if she was an infant. Ruth didn't push away from Noa's arms, instead falling into them like a weary wanderer. Noa smiled and stroked Ruth's hair.
"Tell me what's wrong." Noa said softly.
"I don't want to go." Ruth began shakily. Noa hugged Ruth closer to her and sighed.
"I won't fight with you about this again." Noa stated. "It is something neither of us can help and whether we like it or not, you're leaving soon. Please don't make our last days together miserable."
"Humph!" Ruth grumbled. She was still angry, but she didn't slide off of Noa's lap which the Roma took as a good sign.
"Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Paz?" Noa asked.
"No-noth-nothing." Ruth said, turning way from Noa.
"Now, Ruth…" Noa began, placing a warm hand on the ten year old's cheek and gently urging her to look her in the eye. "I can't help you if you won't tell me what happened. Was Paz rude? Did he hurt your feelings? Did he say something mean?"
"No!" Ruth cried, her ardent declaration earning the curious stares of those sitting around them. Ruth paid them no mind, however, her brown eyes boring into Noa's and begging her to understand. "Paz didn't say anything mean to me! He said…well…he said…oh Miss Noa!"
Ruth hugged the woman tightly, her small frame shaking as she held back her confused tears.
"Ruth," Noa said, "if you don't want to tell me, then I could look into your mind and see what happened. I'll only do this if you want me to."
Ruth didn't speak for a long while, trying fervently to control her shaking before daring to look up at the woman holding her. The ten year old nodded her consent and Noa quickly cleared her mind and channeled her psychic powers so that they were focused on Ruth's specific mental waves. She touched her brow to Ruth's, continuing to stroke the girl's hair as a strong encouragement to relax and let Noa into her memories. The fact that Noa found the specific memory easily hinted at Ruth's willingness to share the experience with the Roma woman. Waiting for the images to come into focus, Noa directed all of her senses onto the memory that Ruth was imparting to her, realizing that she was seeing that rainy afternoon two days ago when they had fought. The images began to clear and Noa realized that, after she and Alphonse had closed themselves in their bedroom, Ruth had made a mad dash for the bathroom where she began to silently sob…
Ruth clutched onto the sink as she tried to control her tears. She hated crying, and ever since she had been beaten into unconsciousness by the workhouse supervisor for wailing after breaking her toe on a textile machine, Ruth had learned to cry in silence. She thought she was going to be sick.
How could she have said such horrible things to Miss Noa? The woman had done nothing but care for her, perhaps even loved her like a daughter, and she had spat every kindness back in her face. She really was a wretched little spawn, just as her mother had claimed before sending her to the workhouse.
"Ruth?"
Horrified at being caught weeping, Ruth threw an incensed look at the person who stood in the doorway.
It was Paz.
He was looking at her with large, overly worried blue eyes that seemed to be twice as big as his head from behind his reading glasses. He was frowning at her and looking so terribly sympathetic that she became enraged.
He was pitying her!
He had no right!
"Go away!" she spat.
"Why did you say such mean things to Miss Noa?"
"Get out!"
"She's been nothing but nice to you!" Paz yelled, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "She's treated all of us like a mother, so you had no right to…"
"I'm scared!" Ruth roared, no longer able to keep her composer. She let the tears fall down her cheeks, her breath hitching, her nose running and her eyes storming like the deluge outside.
Paz seemed distressed by Ruth's uncommon reaction to his lecturing. Normally she would simply bicker back at him or tell him to jump out a window. She had never once actually admitted to him what the core of her grief was. He just stood there like a pillar of stone and when his presence should have comforted her, it only made Ruth even angrier.
"Why don't you do anything?!" Ruth demanded, clenching her fists and taking a threatening step towards him.
"Why are you scared?" Paz asked steadily, though his voice did shake a little.
"Because they're sending us away! Because…because…because what if the people they send us to don't treat us nice? Have you thought of that?"
"They'd never send us to people who would hurt us." Paz said, his simple and unquestioned faith in the adults that took care of them humbling Ruth's doubt. Still, she was just so angry.
"You wouldn't understand." Ruth said bitterly. "I've never had anyone care about me, not before Miss Noa or Mister Al or Mister Edward. My real mom was a whore."
Ruth smirked when she saw Paz's jaw drop in shock. She had never talked to anyone about her past because she didn't like to remember it. However, Ruth couldn't seem to keep a plug on her pain any longer. If Paz wanted to know why she was so mad, then she was going to tell him.
"I don't know who my real father is. I asked my mom once and she told me that I could go around questioning every man in Berlin and I still might not find him. She never loved me and she never wanted me, and I know this because she told me so every day. When I was six, she sold me to the workhouse for five hundred marks. In that place, you were on your own. I was beaten all the time, starved, too! I would run away over and over again, but they would always catch me. And then, the last time, I hid in the sewers. I was there for weeks. I…I thought I was going to die, but then Mister Edward found me. He brought me here and fed me and gave me warm water and clothes…for the first time…for the first time I had a family, and now they're sending me away just like my mother!"
"Ruth…"
"Just shut up! You don't understand! You'll never understand what it's like to be sent away by people you care about." Ruth decided firmly. A long, drawn-out silence filled the bathroom, but the tension did not dissipate. Looking closely at Paz, Ruth realized for the first time that the twelve year old looked as if he was trying desperately to keep from crying.
"My mother and father live in Austria." Paz began, his words even and clear, immediately catching Ruth's notice. Just as she had chosen to never divulge her hard past to others, Paz had also never spoken of his life before coming to live with the Elrics.
He had her full attention.
"My father is a professor of music at the University of Vienna. My mother works part-time at the school's library. They are both full citizens, but both of them also have Jewish ancestry. My maternal grandmother and my paternal great-grandparents are Jewish. I wasn't raised Jewish, neither were my parents, but my dad thinks that, very soon, it won't matter. All that will matter, in time, is whether or not your family line is pure Aryan. About a year ago, a colleague of my dad's who has ties with some powerful military associates began to ask personal questions about my family. Dad figured that they're already weeding out the pure from the impure, so he contacted a friend of a friend and ended up making an arrangement with Mister Edward to take me in and get me out of Europe…Mom and dad couldn't come, too. It just wouldn't be safe."
Paz gulped loudly when he finished telling his story to Ruth, stepping a little closer to her and catching her eye so that they were both looking directly at each other.
Brown met blue, and for two children so young, a lifetime of hurt and pain could be seen reflected in their eyes.
"I know what it's like to be sent away by people you love. When mom and dad made me leave with Mister Edward and Mister Al and they brought me to Berlin and I met Miss Noa and you and Yafit…I didn't want to care about any of you. But I've been here for seven months and I do care, and now that we're going to leave in a few more days I feel like I'm being sent away from my mom and dad all over again!" Paz's voice began to rise in volume and his blue eyes seemed to come alive with a cool fire. "So don't tell me that I don't understand! I'm the one who understands best!"
He reached out and gripped her upper arms, shaking her in his desperation. Ruth was startled by this aggressive side of Paz and couldn't find a reason to explain why her heart was pounding and her face hot. In all of their past quarrels Paz had never become so passionate, nor had she ever become so flustered.
"I know you think of Mister Al and Miss Noa as your parents. I do, too! And…"
Paz paused a moment, his nose turning an enticing crimson that had Ruth hypnotized.
"What?" she found herself asking breathily.
"I…I-I kn-know how you feel about Mister Edward."
"What?!" Ruth repeated, her voice no longer sounding like it was lost in a dream. It was squeaky and panicked and had a hard edge of the obnoxious personality that made Ruth who she was.
"You like him…you fancy him. That's why you've been so grouchy ever since Miss Winry arrived."
"I-I-I…I have not!" Ruth stuttered, horrified that her feelings for the golden blond man had been somewhat obvious, and that Paz of all people had be the one to inform her. "I don't like him." she lied. "Not like that."
"That's crap." Paz declared, giving her another shake, his face getting closer and closer and Ruth's heartbeat getting faster and faster. His eyes were so clear, the slightest glistening of unshed frustrated tears collecting in the corners.
"I know you like Mister Edward because he's strong and smart and brave, and I know I'm not, but…well, I'm not done growing yet! And even if I'm not, I'll always be around to protect you! Mister Edward's not going to America, but I am and no matter what happens, I'll be there and I'll always watch out for you! So, you don't have to be scared, Ruth. You don't have to be scared because I won't ever let myself be sent away from you!"
The weight of Paz's words settled over the children, making the bathroom seem much smaller than it actually was. Both were blushing, frozen in place for a few never ending minutes before Paz violently pushed himself away from Ruth and walked out of the room, leaving a shaken and terribly confused Ruth behind…
Noa lifted her brow from Ruth's and looked down at the quiet girl with wide, wondering eyes.
No wonder she had been throwing Paz those strange, worried looks. Any ten year old would be confused after such a confession. Seeing Ruth look up at her, her expression begging for an explanation, Noa just smiled warmly and hugged the girl.
"Oh, Ruth." she said. "Paz was just trying to tell you he cares about you."
"But…but he said…"
"He wants to protect you, just like I do. That's why, no matter how much it hurts me and you, I'll send you to America. I care more about you being alive than I care about my happiness." Noa declared passionately.
"Yeah, Mister Al said something like that." Ruth sighed. "I'm sorry, Miss Noa! I'm sorry I yelled. I don't hate you!"
Ruth hugged Noa tightly and the Roma woman accepted the girl's apology eagerly. She was glad that Ruth understood how hard it was to give her up to another family. Noa had come to regard Ruth as her very own daughter and when she thought of going to Paris to greet the American family that would take Ruth away, Noa couldn't help the sinking feelings of abandonment. However, she wouldn't let her emotions rule over her logic. Noa had seen the future of Europe in her psychic nightmares and knew of the horrors that would eventually come. No child should have to witness such atrocities, and if Noa was able to spare all of the innocent, she would.
Besides, Paz would protect Ruth. He had promised.
" I'm happy that everything is better between us." Noa admitted.
"Yes." Ruth agreed, smiling brightly. While the ten year old still didn't fully understand what it was that Paz had been trying to say to her that day in the bathroom, she was glad that she had chosen to share the incident with Noa. She felt better.
"Hey."
Turning around in Noa's lap, Ruth's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Paz was standing in front of the two women, one hand outstretched and holding a fresh, gooey honey bun. He was looking down at his feet rather than Ruth or Noa, an adorable stripe of red running across his nose.
"Here." he said, pushing the honey bun towards Ruth. "I asked them to sprinkle some cinnamon on top. That's how you like it, right?"
"Yeah…" Ruth whispered, gently taking the steaming pastry from Paz. "Thanks."
"Sure." Paz mumbled, moving to take a seat at the table and nibbling on his molasses cookie. Al and Yafit joined the trio and the little family all ate in comfortable companionship before making their way back to the apartment.
It didn't escape Al's notice that Ruth and Paz walked side by side, just behind himself and Noa, quietly speaking to each other in shy tones.
"Why's Ruth and Paz being so nice? How come they're not fighting?" Yafit asked, her lips and cheeks sticky with syrup from her cinnamon roll.
"Because Paz did something nice for Ruth." Noa answered vaguely.
"That's right. He brought her a honey bun." Al added, not aware of the events that had occurred between the pair two days ago. Noa linked hands with her husband and smiled, making a note that she would have to tell him about Paz's passionate promise to Ruth when they had a private moment.
"That's a silly reason." Yafit answered. "A honey bun isn't nothing special."
"That's not true." Al said, his voice gentle and wise. "You don't have to do something really big or fancy to be nice to someone. Often, it's the little things we do that say the most about how much we care about someone."
And when the group of five returned to their apartment, a pot of cold soup on the stove, Eddie tucked in on the cushioned chair and Ed and Winry dozing against each other in Ed's bed, Al knew that it really did only take a small gesture to speak a thousand ways about how deeply you loved someone.
After all, Ed hated to cook.
Oh my gosh! This chapter is long! I think it's the longest one yet! Oh well, readers like long chapters.
Right?
So, I hope everyone liked this. It's actually one of my favorites so far. I really enjoy writing and reading about Ed/Winry/Eddie being all domestic. And I'm really pleased with the Al/Noa/other kids side story, too. Did you like the whole Ruth/Paz thing? I'm sure most of you saw that coming. I'm trying to capture some of the innocence of young love with these two characters. In a way, they juxtapose the way Ed and Winry used to feel about each other before they became adults and hormones and sex and major life-altering events changed not only them, but also their love. It's still present, still just as strong, but it's different than what it once was.
I was also really glad to see (well, hear) Hughes again. He's a lot of fun to write, and he'll be making another appearance in a future chapter (but I'm not gonna tell you which one because then I'd have no fun).
I know this is basically a filler chapter, but I needed it to establish some very important things, namely, of course, Eddie's relationship with Winry and how he sees it. I think Ed handled the 'is Winnie my mommy?' question really well. It's hard to explain death to a ten year old, never mind a three year old, and I just can't see Ed telling his child that his mother is an angel in heaven with God since Ed doesn't believe in that. Despite wanting to spare his son pain, I think Ed would want to raise Eddie to know the truth about such heavy concepts as death, and so he would live by the credo of 'One is all. All is one". It's a good way to explain the cycle of life, and as Eddie gets older, he'll begin to understand it better and better.
Anyway, as always I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. And I promise, the next few chapters are going to be full of plot and action and suspense and intrigue, so enjoy this peace while you can!
Please, take the time to leave a review and let me know what you think of things so far. No flames, please and thank you!
Regards,
Giant Nickel