Patience was something she had acquired slowly, over a space of years, but it was something she had come to master. It was a virtue; she demonstrated patience in every aspect of her life.

In her work, she invested a great amount of time and love, and she would not trade her work for all the gold in the world. Every wire, bit of metal, screw… each piece had a specific, unconditional place in finished product, and if one part was even the slightest bit out of place, the whole thing was useless. Time wasted.

But she had patience; and she had devoted years to learning the art of mechanics, and it showed. With every metallic limb produced, with every satisfied customer, her hard work showed, and she was proud of everything she made. Some people had the gall to question her, why would a girl choose wrenches and metal over dresses and a husband? When they asked, she would give them a strained smile, and show them that just because she was a girl, didn't mean she wasn't every bit as good as any other mechanic. Maybe it was avoiding the question, but maybe she thought they wouldn't understand.

Wrenches and metal she understood, people she had more trouble with. Why would they submit themselves to such inner conflict, when they had a warm home and a loving family waiting for them? Sometimes when she worked, and raged, the words slipped out. Someone would ask her; just whom was she talking about? She would freeze, blush faintly, and throw herself headlong back into her job.

Screws and wires she understood, it was Ed that she could not.

Couldn't he see how much pain he caused her? Somewhere along the line, she had begun to wonder how long he would make her wait for him.

Occasionally, young men would come to her door, clearly having no interest in one of her specially made, handcrafted metal limbs. It wasn't too surprising- she knew she wasn't too horrible to look at- but she would chase them away with chatter about machinery, tools, and ask them excitedly if they wished to try anything on. She wasn't in the market for a husband, not right now.

She had her work to focus on right now.

With each passing day, she drove herself harder, trying to perfect her auto-mail, examining every flaw (whether it existed or not was hard to tell, her eyes always saw the imperfections). What if she formed the metal at a different temperature, would it be stronger then? If she reinforced the frame, would it be too heavy? Her customers respected her dedication, but wondered at this obsession with the auto-mail.

Was this new model lighter to carry, she would ask them, blue eyes wide in question. They didn't know, they didn't understand, why it mattered so much.

It broke her heart, every day he spent away from her. Even more painful, was when he would return, right arm shattered, leg hanging by a few wires.

No matter what she did, the auto-mail was flawed, and auto-mail with flaws set him at a disadvantage. It made the idea of him coming home seem more and more unlikely, and it made her feel cold. Every time he returned to her, and left again, she would vow to work harder. Make it better, stronger… She couldn't bear the idea of him dying in battle, and this was the only way she could help him in his journey.

She would sob herself to sleep nearly every night, and when she woke in the morning, Pinako would pretend not to notice the dried tear trails on her cheeks. The old woman would pray every night, to whichever god would listen to her pleas, that Edward and Alphonse would return soon. If they never did, she feared her granddaughter would never recover the loss.

Patience was a virtue, and Winry Rockbell had become very patient over the years. She waited for a time when Ed and Alphonse would come home, and she wouldn't have to watch them leave again. Until then, she would perfect her work, obsess over the disadvantages she might give him, and prepare herself to put the eldest Elric back together when he broke.

She would wait forever, if she had to.


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