Author's Note: Since the previous chapter was very short, and in honor of the holiday weekend, another chapter. ;) Enjoy!
September 12th, 1952
When the unit Winry was assigned to finally arrived in Bueáire in the late afternoon, troops had been trickling into the Capitol for quite some time. She looked around with curiosity as they were directed to the Amestrian Embassy. She was sure that the grounds were ostentatiously spacious when they weren't crammed full of nearly two Divisions worth of men, munitions, and other supplies. There were hints of beautiful landscaping here and there, but a lot of it had apparently been fairly open lawn. That was good because there wasn't a spare inch of it not in use now.
As soon as they were setting up camp and Winry had nothing she was supposed to be doing she inquired as to where she might find the Generals Elric. She really wanted to speak to Edward, but she wouldn't object to finding Alphonse first if he was the only one available.
"They are in a meeting at the moment, ma'am," the Colonel standing in the doorway of the main entrance to the embassy talking with a couple of other lower officers replied. "Is it critical?"
Obviously they didn't recognize her from anyone else. Winry tapped the tool kit she never took off her belt. "I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist's primary mechanic."
They still didn't get it. The Colonel's expression brightened and he nodded. "Oh. All right then, ma'am. Go on in. I believe they're in the conference room on the second floor."
"Thank you, Colonel. Gentlemen," she nodded politely at the other two officers and walked in. Finding the stairs was easy and one of the embassy staff told her how to find the conference room in question. It was good to find out that the only people currently in there were apparently Ed, Al, and Hal Brewster.
As she got closer Winry felt herself tensing. She had dreamed – and had nightmares about – this moment for months. She had practiced her apologies to Edward in her mind as often as she had chewed him out for abandoning her at home again. In her mind she had sobbed over his wounds, kissed him, kicked him, listened to him apologize profusely for making her worry. In the worst ones, she had found herself crying over his coffin. Her throat constricted and she did her best to compose herself. Now was not the time to lose her temper. She still wasn't sure why that was more of a problem lately.
The door to the conference room was open. Winry stepped into the doorway then paused. Her presence was not noticed immediately. Standing around the table, looking at a map of some kind – the city perhaps – were Edward, Alphonse, and Hal Brewster. Brewster was explaining something, gesturing to the map, and Ed and Al were both focused so intently that she went completely unobserved.
Winry took a moment to observe while she had the opportunity. She briefly noticed that Al's hair was longer by a good inch – almost shaggy – and he looked a little leaner than she remembered, and somehow sturdier and more confident at the same time. Sad too and less… well less innocent. Something had gone out of his eyes though she could not say what.
Inevitably she was drawn to Edward. He was standing at an angle to her, mostly turned away, but she could see that he had changed as well. Like the others, he wore his uniform, though the jacket was currently slung over the chair in the heat of the day, and his sleeves of the dress shirt were rolled to the elbows. He wore no gloves, and his hair was back as always but the braid seemed a little longer than she remembered. The auto-mail needed a good detailing though it seemed in workable order. He looked pale, ragged, thin… Ed had been shot three months ago, but if someone had asked Winry without her knowing, she would have been sure it was less than five weeks.
Whether it was the obvious dents in the auto-mail, the way his shirt hung on his too-thin frame, or his absolute ignorance of her presence, Winry wasn't sure which, but the pain and anger she had been holding back ever since he left, that had been building for eleven months, exploded without warning despite her efforts at calm!
Winry crossed the distance so quickly that Ed had barely started to turn around when her fist connected with the side of his face.
"Oww, damn it, what the –? Winry!" Ed clutched his face; his eyes wide open in shock and confusion.
She couldn't help it; she just started shouting. "I can't believe you, Edward! I didn't want you to go in the first place – didn't want you to get hurt – and what happens? And then you don't even send one word; not one damned word to me to let me know that you're even alive let alone okay, and all I get is 'I'm not dead yet?' You never consider my feelings! You just go off, time after time, and almost always end up getting yourself nearly killed while I'm stuck sitting at home with the kids, worried sick. Well no more! Never again! I can't take the pain and the heartache anymore!" It just hurt too much to watch him tell her flat out he was going when he knew about her objections. That was why she was here now – she wouldn't be left behind again. He had promised her that much! Before their wedding he had promised her! She was supposed to get to choose when she was left behind, and he had sworn years ago not to run off without her. "Do you hear me? I won't wait around anymore to find out that you're dead! Cause one day that's what I'm going to get if things continue this way and I can't live with that."
Maybe it was the fact that Ed didn't even try to get a word in edgewise – if he wanted to – and the continued shocked confusion on his face that caused it to register that maybe she was coming on too strongly. This wasn't how Winry had meant their reunion to be at all! She had thought about rushing into his arms, crying probably, hugging him tightly and refusing to ever let him go. This – well this wasn't anything like that.
"I…I need to go," Winry spun on her heel then and tried to flee.
It was then that Edward found his voice. "Winry wait!"
She kept running. This wasn't what she wanted. The last thing she had been planning was to completely lose control, but her emotions had overwhelmed her without warning. Damn it, what was wrong with her anyway?
"Winry!" A hand closed on the tail of her jacket and she was pulled up abruptly as his flesh hand settled on her shoulder. "Please! We need to –"
"Don't touch me!" Not right now, please don't force this. Winry turned sharply, wrenching away. Guilt flooded her as she saw the hurt anger in his eyes. He was so shocked that he just let go.
Tears streaming down her face, Winry kept running. Until she got herself under control she was too afraid to stay there. It would be a fight, a big one, and she knew she couldn't handle that either.
When she didn't hear him following, she slowed down and stopped around one of the corners, slumping to the ground and weeping into her knees. She would find him later, when she was calmer, and she would apologize. It was too late to start over, but maybe she could help him understand why she was upset. Maybe this time he would listen. Maybe eventually she would actually have an explanation.
Winry wasn't sure how long she remained there, but eventually the sobbing ebbed and she got control of her emotions. She was too drained to be angry or hurt, though the guilt remained. No one had come by, so she figured this part of the embassy was not heavily in use. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve she stood, straightened her jacket, and started back in the direction she thought she had come from.
"Mrs. Elric!" Someone shouted her name and came around a corner. It was one of the medics from the unit she had been with.
"What is it, Toby?" she asked, doing her best not to look as if she had just been bawling minutes before.
"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something," the young Sergeant replied apologetically. "But it's orders ma'am. There have been attacks today all up and down about a fifty mile stretch of track and they're short medics. There've been a couple of auto-mail breakdowns that need repair as well and we're one of the teams they're calling up. They want us on the train in half an hour."
"Half an hour?" That was almost no time at all. It took twenty minutes just to drive down to the station! Her chest seemed to tighten for a moment. There was nothing for it. Duty had to come first. Edward wouldn't have forgiven her for abandoning her post to talk to him anymore than he would for blowing up at him in the first place; less so really. She would just have to talk to him later and hope this was a short trip. "All right. I'm coming." I'm sorry, Ed. I'm so sorry.
Edward stood in the empty hallway, staring in disbelief at the corner around which Winry had vanished. Her words echoed in his mind, running over and over as if a record were skipping in his mind. What did she mean never again? She wasn't going to stand for this anymore? She wasn't going to wait?
He hadn't been expecting her. Winry was supposed to be safe in Central! Why was she here? When had she gotten to Aerugo? A million questions poured into his mind, but the only thing that kept registering – other than the throbbing pain in his jaw – was the look on her face as she jerked away and ran away…. Winry had run from him.
It was too much to take in. Ed turned and headed in another direction as fast as he could. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he couldn't face anyone right now. Winry wouldn't talk to him right now, and the last thing he wanted was to try and explain to Brewster and Alphonse. Hell, he didn't know how to explain, because he still wasn't entirely sure what had just happened!
Alphonse had been completely focused on the map and Brewster's newest idea for the best way to set up patrols in the city to minimize work for individual soldiers and allow more leave time for those who needed it that he missed Winry's entrance. His first clue that she was there was the resounding smack of a hand in Edward's jaw, and Ed's pained exclamation.
The tirade caught him entirely off guard! Al stared, too shocked that Winry was there to really register what was being said until she was half way through. Then she was turning, fleeing.
Ed stood dumbly for only a couple of seconds. "Excuse me…gentlemen…" he murmured, and then he took off. "Winry wait!"
When he had gone, Al turned to Brewster, who was giving him a very confused look as well. "We should continue this later," Al said.
Brewster nodded. "Umm… yeah."
Immediately Al went looking for his brother, or Winry, whichever he could find! He didn't see either of them down the hall he thought they had taken off down. Worry set in immediately. He had no idea what Winry was doing here, but apparently Edward's concerns about her being mad at him weren't as exaggerated as Al had figured. Still, Al had rarely seen Winry truly furious – not in years anyway – and this was an incensed rage he had never seen before. What the heck could Ed have done to set her off like that? Well, from her words – plenty.
Al searched for over half an hour and all he managed to get was a "yes, a blonde woman came into the building about an hour ago looking for General Elric" from a helpful staffer.
Trying not to be overly conspicuous, Al decided it might be better to find Ed. Winry would calm down eventually – she always did – and would return to her usual sensible self. Edward on the other hand… Ed had been so tightly wound lately that Al had just been waiting for the springs to pop like an over-wound pocket watch.
It took a lot longer to find Ed than he thought it would. Al finally had a hunch to try the less-occupied areas of the building. If Ed had left it, someone would have noticed him. He finally located Ed in one of the near-empty rooms in the farthest-most corner from the parts of the building that they currently occupied, in the wing that had been undergoing some repairs and redecoration before the mess with the government had abruptly aborted things.
Ed was slumped in a chair at a small table, arms resting on the table as he stared at a bottle of rum. It didn't take Al more than a moment to realize that his brother was already absolutely smashed.
"What are we doing here, Alphonse?" Ed asked angrily without even turning to look at him directly. "I hate this! I hate the whole damned war! Be thou for the people. Well, the Amestrians are safe, so is that the people? We're trying to do our best by the people of Aerugo too…but how do we know when we've done all we can? There's nothing left we can do to be of any real help here. They have to do for themselves and find a solution that works for them. But how do you convince those ass-kissing Assemblymen sitting up in Central that what we need to do is get the hell out of here and go home… while there's anything left." He tilted the bottle and drank.
Al didn't interrupt. He had been trying to get Ed to talk for months and he knew well enough that sometimes this was the only way Ed would open up and talk about things that deeply troubled him.
Ed didn't disappoint. "Four months, Al. Winry's been working as a doctor and auto-mail engineer in this hell-hole for four months and no one sent me a damned word. I found out from a medic with almost no rank to speak of and I'm supposed to be a frickin' General. Then today…" he cut off brokenly.
"She was angry. You know she gets mad when she doesn't hear anything and she's worried," Al suggested softly.
Ed shook his head, his hair bobbing in his face. "But what she said…. Did you see the way she looked at me?" Ed buried his face in his arm against the table top, hair spread out across it: a pathetically sad sight indeed.
Al had seen part of it. He was still stunned by the force of her anger himself. But it had obviously devastated Edward. "Give her a little time to calm down."
"She's right, "Ed sighed then. "Damn it, she's absolutely right; every word of it."
Al hadn't been expecting that. "What do you mean?"
"I've known every time that she didn't want me going, Al, but I went anyway. I did what I wanted to do. It's always easier to ask forgiveness than permission after all," he commented, the sarcasm so thick Al could almost taste it. "Winry begged me to retire after the Xing mess. She didn't want me to get hurt again, or get killed…and I gave her this pile of shit answer about teaching and how what we'd learned was what helped keep peace in Amestris."
"Didn't it though?" Al asked sensibly. He wasn't entirely sure where all of this was coming from now, but he was getting an idea of just what was going on. It matched up with Winry's own statements. "And didn't you feel that way?"
"At the time I did," Ed admitted. "But even then I was doing it 'cause I wanted to. Winry told me then how she felt and for eleven more years…I completely ignored her feelings. I may be the biggest ass-hole on the Continent."
"Well, certainly not the biggest," Al smirked humorlessly.
Ed tilted his head and glared at him. "I told her if there was another conflict I'd go," he replied, making no comment at all on the short jibe. That was never a good sign. "What moron let her come down here anyway? That was a stupid call." He took a long pull, then set the bottle down again and buried his face in his arms. "Winry was supposed to be safe, not out here where something could happen to her."
"Winry's capable of taking care of herself," Al pointed out, more than a little irritated. Ed knew by now he couldn't protect everyone all the time. Apparently he had forgotten that fact somewhere on this mission.
Ed lifted his face up, staring contemplatively at the bottle in front of him over his arms, his bangs hung limply down into his face. "You know what's funny," he said softly instead of answering the question.
"What?" Sometimes it was difficult following Ed's jumping trains of thought. It was odder still when he was drunk.
Ed gave a soft snort, almost as if he was laughing. "I haven't had a drink since Havoc died."
"Brother…. "Al was momentarily floored. He had to think back, but he realized that Ed was right. At least, Al hadn't seen him drink a drop of alcohol that he could remember in nearly two years. Not in any town they had passed through, even when it was offered. If he actually thought about it the truth of Ed's statement was plain. How had he missed that?
"It just... didn't appeal; especially after what happened to Mustang." Ed's face screwed up then. "I never wanted to hurt her, Al. I just wanted to protect her from any more suffering on my account. Same damned mistake again and again."
"Looks like you're making more than one," Al didn't mean to sound snappish, but he didn't like seeing Ed in this state. It reminded him too much of bad memories. Al reached for the bottle, but Ed snatched it away with a petulant glare.
"If you're gonna start with a lecture get the hell out of here."
"Ed, this isn't going to help."
"One man's opinion."
"Damn it, stop being stubborn!"
"Save your breath."
"Don't you think this is kind of pre-mature?" Al felt momentarily helpless. The last thing he wanted to do right now was fight with Ed when what his brother really needed most was to think rationally and have some emotional support. Not that he was taking what was offered.
"'No more. Never again. I can't take it.' 'Don't touch me.'" Ed mimicked Winry's tone perfectly, but softer, his expression grim as he met Al's eyes. "Imagine Elicia saying those things, Al. If it ever happens to you, then talk to me." He drained the bottle.
His words were stinging, perhaps cruel, but Ed made his point well. It wasn't Al's relationship seemingly on the skids. In a million years, Al would never have imagined this type of rift forming between Ed and Winry. And it seemed to have formed without him – or Ed – being aware of it. Or maybe not. Ed had admitted months ago that he and Winry had been fighting a lot before they left on this mission. That she hadn't been interested in physical contact.
"So Winry's right," Al said finally. "Then what? You talk it out. You go find her later, if she doesn't come back and find you first, and apologize."
"I doubt she'll come back," Ed laughed humorlessly, drinking again.
"I think she will," Al countered.
"I'll take that bet."
Al shook his head. "You'll see. Though you could always talk to her first. If not, I'm sure things will work out when we all get home and this is over. Things are pretty intense down here. Of course everyone's temper is running hot."
"If she even comes home." Ed slumped further in the seat.
"Oh don't be ridiculous, Edward," Al stared as his brother. Of all the things he never expected to hear – had Ed really just said he thought Winry was leaving? "Of course Winry will come home."
"And if she doesn't?" Ed asked, looking up at Al with hopeless eyes. "I'm worthless without, Winry. Without her…what's the point?" Ed turned the bottle upside down. Not a single drop came out of it.
"Are you done now?" Al asked with a sigh. This wasn't going to go anywhere productive. Ed mildly drunk could think straight. His brother was well past that point, and had just downed a rather large bottle of rum after two years of utter sobriety. Frankly, Al was amazed he wasn't already unconscious!
"Maybe?" Ed replied.
"Can you walk back to your room by yourself?"
Ed smirked. "Not a chance in hell."
At least he was an honest drunk. "Come on, before someone sees you." It was early evening now. Most folks would be at dinner so hopefully no one would miss Ed. Al reached out and hauled Ed to his feet. It was testament to Ed's frame of mind, and physical state, that he didn't even object or voice a word of protest. He didn't try and stand on his own either. No, it wouldn't be long until Ed was unconscious. Al would have been less concerned though if Ed had done one of those things. Normally Ed's sense of dignity and his ego wouldn't let him accept Al's help without at least a token attempt at self-reliance.
Ed didn't speak all the way back to his room either. He wasn't asleep, but he didn't seem to be focused on anything going on around him. By the time Al almost literally poured his sodden brother into bed, Ed had finally passed out.
Al took Ed's boots off and tucked him in. Yeah, Ed was out cold, and almost certainly would be until morning. Al didn't envy him the hangover he would have when he awoke. The one or two very minor ones Al had ever experienced had been enough to keep him from ever really over-indulging. He preferred other beverages most of the time anyway.
He left Ed alone, glad that his own room was only one door down and they shared bedroom walls. He could probably hear if Ed woke up during the night or got violently ill. Though he made sure there was a glass and full pitcher of water – and an empty wash basin – by Ed's bed so that when he woke up he wouldn't have to try and make it out of bed.
After the emotional rollercoaster of the past couple of hours, Al wasn't particularly hungry, but he made himself head outside to the Mess to eat with the others. The Generals tried not to take too much advantage of the Embassy. It wasn't fair to the men. He went to eat because he knew he would regret it later if he didn't. His stomach was hungry even though his head wasn't, and his heart was heavy.
Something was wrong between Edward and Winry, and while Al was sure whatever it was could be fixed, until it was he was going to be worried about two of the people he cared about most in the world.
September 13th, 1952
Edward was sure his stomach, his intestines, his head, his ribs, and – ah hell – most of his body had probably disowned him by now. Well, maybe not the auto-mail. That was the only part of him that didn't feel like it had gotten worked over by a championship wrestler. It had only taken twenty minutes to empty his stomach of its rather limited contents, but he had spent two more hours dry-heaving before he got voluntary control back enough to sit up and get some water down.
He had jerked awake before the sun was even up, and lay sprawled across the bed, grateful for the wash basin on the floor below, until his eyes stopped crossing and his headache was only a constantly throbbing discomfort. Death wasn't worse than this…was it? He doubted it, because he was sure he would remember if it was.
Winry…. Shit! Ed's consciousness jerked him into action as everything from the day before reminded him exactly why he felt like hell. He was mostly dressed. That was good. Looking around – not too frantically, the sudden movements were very bad for his head – he spotted his uniform jacket draped neatly over a chair. Thanks, Al. Ed dragged himself out of bed and dragged on the jacket and his boots. He didn't bother checking to see how bedraggled his hair looked. Even a General was entitled to look mildly rumpled once in a while!
Ed headed straight outside and towards the area of the camps that he had learned only by happenstance yesterday afternoon in a run-in in the hallway that Winry was part of the medic unit that had come in yesterday. He strode right in to their hospital tent.
"General Elric," one of the nurses looked up and recognized him at once. "Can I help you?"
"My wife," Ed replied without preamble. "She's been working here."
"Well, yes, Sir," the nurse nodded, looking mildly confused. "She's not here, Sir."
"I need to speak with her…please," Ed tried his best to remember to be polite. It was hard. All he could focus on past the pain and occasional waves of nausea was Winry, and the urgency that he had to talk to her!
The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, General. She's not here. She's with the team that went back North on the train last night."
Last night? "What train?"
"There were several attacks." The nurse looked as confused as Ed felt, probably because she was explaining what was apparently common knowledge to a man who was supposed to know these kinds of things already. "They were short doctors and auto-mail mechanics. So we sent over a dozen back up the tracks yesterday."
Gone. Winry was already gone – yesterday evening. She'd barely been here a couple of hours…. And she hadn't even waited for him to come tell her he was sorry. Obviously, if she was already here, she hadn't received the letter he had written only days before either.
Ed realized simultaneously that his hands were clenched and shaking and that the nurse was giving him a very concerned look. "General, is something wrong?"
He made himself relax his hands, his arms, and his back. His stomach kept rolling, and he fought down the urge to throw up again. "It's all right," he replied, forcing a small smile to his face as he shook his head slowly. "I'll catch her later. Thanks." With that, he turned and walked quickly out of the tent before he broke down right there.
Not that he could afford that particular luxury. He still had a Division to run, matters to settle, and there was still a war on. In some ways, the hardest part was yet to come. Ed couldn't afford to be distracted, and he couldn't afford to fall apart. He wouldn't think about if Winry was really gone. Maybe Al was right. Ed desperately hoped Al was right. Winry would come back, or they would meet up at home. If anything happened to her out here… well it was Ed's fault for promising she could come along and then running off without her, wasn't it?
He had another meeting to get to this morning; this one with Armstrong, Kane, and a larger number of the officers under their command. It would not be a good time to be late. The last thing Ed wanted to have to do was explain. He just hoped Al had the sense not to say anything in front of the others.
This time, Ed paused to take a moment to re-braid his hair. Then he headed up to the conference room, which was already mostly full when he entered.
Alphonse and Brewster both gave him glances that combined worry and surprise. What? They thought he'd still be in bed? Probably; Ed certainly wished his was. He wished he had grabbed something to eat now too. Everyone in the room – even if they didn't know about Winry's showing up yesterday – could probably tell he was way off today. Still, Ed strode up to the table, ignoring the pain, the nausea, the jerking in his side where the heaving had aggravated the still-healing muscles. "Good morning," he flashed his usual confident grin. "So, what's on the agenda?"