Theme 29 – The other side
Why is it that every time Ed visits Rush Valley, he ends up stripped to his underthings in the middle of the street? He's always appreciated that his automail is something special. Winry certainly tells him that enough. But the minute anyone here notices it…
Well, the rushing stampede that results certainly explains the valley's name.
Edward is thoroughly sick of strangers running their sweaty fingers over every inch of his gleaming prosthetics, oohing and aahing like gawkers at a circus. But there's such of a crush of bodies around them that he can barely move to escape.
Winry is nearby, ringed with a throng of admiring fellow mechanics all trying to outdo each other with clever observations. Ed grimly imagines that next they'll start comparing wrench sizes. He would be out of here in two seconds if it weren't for that gratified flush on her face.
Someone jostles him from behind, and Ed lets out an oof!, falling against a young mechanic in bib overalls and not much else. She coos at him and runs a finger down the knotted scars on his chest, and he flinches back, shocked. Someone's hand pushes against his bare back; bodies press close all around him.
A burly man is nodding sagely over the sleek design of his forearm grill. "…and the best part is the way these grooves allow heat to escape more easily without compromising the strength or waterproofing of the casing," his admirer booms, leaving fingerprints on the metal as he examines it. Ed tries to pull away, but someone has his wrist held tight, and he suddenly realizes that he's really trapped.
Intense claustrophobia wells up in him like vomit, and he squeezes his eyes shut, forcing back memories of a million clinging little hands running over him, chattering, tugging at his skin…
"All right, move along!" comes the sudden shout. "Show's over!"
The crowd grumbles and doesn't budge.
"I said leave him alone!" Winry bellows, and they scatter immediately. He glimpses her brandishing a wrench like an avenging valkyrie, and then his knees give out and he stumbles a step forward, trembling.
And she's there, carefully helping him over to a nearby bench, her eyes spilling apologies for this bitter curdling of what she had always considered a harmless joke at his expense.
"I didn't realize how bad it had gotten," she says, gently helping him on with his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Ed. I won't let them do this anymore, I promise. Those stupid idiots!" and the last part is spat like a curse as she wraps his jacket around his shoulders, fiercely protective and furious.
The best part, he decides then, is not the design of the grill. It's the other side of it, where her name and mechanic's insignia are chiseled. She's left her mark on him, and she will always be there to chase off his demons. If he has to be marked with anyone's name, he can't think of anyone better.
