Yay, chapter 2! Well, I'll try to get chapters up on weekends and holidays, and if I have time during the weekday, (if 7th grade science homework allows…-'')
Anyhow, I can't believe I got two reviews already! Thanks so much you guys!
PyscoNeko15: Ya, it is really sad, this story is pretty angsty, but you'll see how things go as the chapters get put up!
Prides Tears: Yup, this is my first FMA fic, but not my first ever fic. I have written another one, but I didn't really like it so much…hehe. Anyhow, I'm glad that you like this story, I really enjoy writing it!
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Winry gave one last turn to the screw that she was working on and set the wrench down. Wiping her brow, she turned to the elderly man who was holding up his right pant leg, revealing shiny auto mail that formed his calf and foot. Winry smiled as he lowered the pant leg and beamed at her.
"Thank you so much again Miss Winry, I was helping my grandsons build their new club house, and I guess the strain took its toll on ol' steel-leg here." Winry laughed, and said, "Well, you shouldn't over-exert yourself Mr. Wayatt."
The old man stared out the window of the living room, watching the late autumn breeze make the leaves of the large oak tree near the front of the house ripple and dance. "I know, but it makes me feel good to spend quality time with ma' family, y'know, be a good grandfather while I can."
Winry packed away her materials and said, "You shouldn't talk that way Mr. Wayatt, you have plenty of time left."
Mr. Wayatt just smiled softly and put his right shoe on, and then grabbing the old walking cane that he normally used to get around. "Heh, ye never know Miss Winry, especially at my age…I'm just happy that I still have some energy to romp around with the kids."
He pulled out some money out of a leather wallet, and after handing it to Winry he added, "Well, I should get back, or the missus will get worried…she's making her famous beef fondue tonight. You're more than invited to come if ya want, she'd be so happy to see ya."
Winry laughed and said, "Thanks so much for the offer Mr. Wayatt, but I need to stay home…I'm looking after a friend right now, and I need to stay so I can check up on him."
Mr. Wayatt simply shrugged and added with a glint in his eye, "Well, I'll tell one of the kids to drop off some of the missus' apple pie for the both of ya. Apple pie and a warm fire is the best medicine one can have on a cold autumn day. Anyhow, thanks again Winry," he said, putting on his cloak and hat.
Winry opened the door and said, "Don't mention it Mr. Wayatt," She watched as the old man walked out the door, and started down the road that led away from the Rockbell's house. Suddenly he stopped, and said, "You're friend, he's the Edward boy, right?"
Winry paused for a moment before saying, "Yes, he is."
Then old man just smiled again, as if he knew something that Winry didn't. He tipped his hat to her and then continued down his way on the old dirt path. Winry closed the door and turned around, staring across the hallway to the door where Ed's room lay.
He still hadn't come out of there, not since the day that Col. Mustang had brought him to their house, explaining of the accident that had occurred.
Winry remembered crying when she heard the news, she remembered running over to where Ed sat in his wheelchair, his eyes lost and distant, as if he barely knew where he was. She remembered hugging him and sobbing into his shirt, but he hadn't even reacted. He didn't even seem to acknowledge that she existed.
Winry sank to the floor, burying her head in her arms. She held back the tears; she had done enough crying for that past few weeks to last her a lifetime. Al, her childhood friend, gone. But what saddened her most was Edward. He hadn't even shed a tear since the day he came, he had just seemed to be in permanent shock.
And those dreams, those horrible nightmares that he had almost every night, the sounds of pain that she could hear coming from inside that room, sounds of anguish, dying from the inside.
He seemed to be lost inside his own world now, as if fighting an internal battle inside of him. He rarely spoke; the conversation between him and her that morning had been the most she had managed to get out of him. A small victory, if she could call it that.
She could only imagine what he was going through right now. She knew that his family had never been perfect, his father leaving them, his mother then dying…it had always been Edward and Alphonse Elric against the world. Now it was just him, alone.
But why didn't he cry?
She looked back up to the door, forcing herself to think positively. "At least he's starting to react to things around him…he actually woke himself up this morning. I should go and check on him."
She stood up, and started walking cautiously to his room. She paused for a minute, her hand resting on the handle of the door, before entering, debating with herself whether to go inside or not. She hated to see him this way, this tired, listless version of Ed. It almost scared her to look at him. His eyes were now a dead copper, not the holding the golden brilliance of before.
And the worst part is that he seemed to be worsening.
"No Winry, what are you thinking? He's just been through a lot; it's natural for him to be…"
Suddenly another voice snickered in her mind.
"Stop lying to yourself Winry, he's slowly dying from the inside. And there's nothing you can do about it."
Winry shook her head, forcing herself to think straight. "He will get better; I promise I will help him! He's my best friend; I can't give up on him now."
With that newly created confidence, she opened the door.
Ed was still in bed, his blond hair tied in a loose ponytail, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed the text of a book. Winry wondered if he was even reading, his eyes seemed to stay on that one page forever.
"Hey…Ed…I was just coming in to see how you're doing…" She said softly. Ed looked up at her for about a second before answering in barely a whisper, "I'm fine." Then his eyes returned to the page.
The room was very dimly lit, so Winry went over to the curtains and pulled them back, letting a shower of light illuminate the room. "I have no idea how you can read in this darkness Ed, you must be a bat or something," she said, half-smiling. From his bed Winry could hear Ed mumble something like, "It's ok…"
She turned to look at him again, not sure of what to say. "Um…" she thought, fiddling with her hair again. "Oh ya, Mr. Wayatt came today, y'know, the old man who used to own the grocery store down by in the main square, to have his leg checked up; you remember how he had an auto mail leg too? Uh, anyhow, he said that he'd be sending one of Mrs. Wayatt's pies over…you remember how much we loved them, right?"
Ed nodded slightly, his eyes still not leaving the page.
Winry felt like slapping him. What is wrong with him, why won't he talk, why does he just sit there all day doing nothing, barely eating, just reading that stupid book?
That's when she saw the unfinished milk bottle.
"GODDAMMIT ED!" she yelled.
It was as if she had snapped. With an almost inhuman-like strength, she grabbed the milk bottle, then Ed, and shoved the bottle in his mouth. Ignoring his protests, she didn't let go until finally Ed shoved her away furiously with his auto-mail arm.
The finished milk bottle fell to the floor next to her. She clutched her pants, tears forming in her eyes, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR WINRY?" yelled an enraged Ed, wiping away the milk from his mouth with the back of his hand.
Suddenly Winry began laughing. "He said…my name…at last. He reacted to something."
"Winry, why are you…" Ed started, dumbfounded.
Winry stood up, wiping away her tears. "I…it's nothing…oh Ed…" she said, still laughing.
Ed couldn't help but let a small smile break through, like a small shutter of light in a dark field of rain. He hated seeing Winry cry; it made him feel horrible, like he had committed one of the greatest crimes in the world. But, when she smiled…it lit up her face, making it even lovelier than it already was.
He wanted to say sorry, he knew that Winry was worried about him, but he couldn't seem to get the words out straight. Lately his mind had been elsewhere, in a world where only he had the key to enter.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. Winry looked happily in its direction, and said, "That must be one of Mr. Wayatt's grandchildren with the pie, just wait a sec here Ed while I go pick it up."
Ed watched as Winry ran over to the doorbell, thinking, "It's not like I'm going anywhere…at least for a while."
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In a dark ally, a boy of about 14 stumbled about blindly. Rain was pouring down mercilessly, soaking him completely.
But the rain was the least of his worries. Inside his head, questions and sudden flashes filled his mind, voices and pictures of people jumbled around in an incoherent fashion.
"Who…who am I? Why can't I remember who I am? What am I doing here, where is…where is…"
The boy knew that there was someone he should be looking for, someone he had to find. But he couldn't figure out who it was he needed to see. Suddenly he tripped over something and fell on the cold, hard ground.
He lay there for about a second, his hands still grasping the only object which he could remember ever having; a piece of metal that appeared to have been cut in half, a symbol written in blood on it.
