Disclaimer: I do not own FullMetal Alchemist…If I do, Edo would sooooooooo be mine!

Heart of Metal

Chapter 1

Grieving Heart

"Hey, Winry…"

In truth, Winry Rockbell never expected the Elric brothers to return during this time. Though living far from the city, she sometimes heard words of the dangers faraway. She also knew vaguely of what the brothers had been involved in and she could only imagine the danger and pray for them to return safe. And, as involved as they were, they should not be home yet, especially after their goodbye not too long ago. More strangely, Al was alone. At first, she thought Ed was trailing behind, afraid to look at her. But as Al towered over her and she searched high and low, front and back of him and found nothing, she began to look at him questioningly.

"Ed…?" she asked quietly, her mind already fearing the answer, "Is Ed here?"

"That's what I'm here to tell you, Winry," Al said, his head lowered. The armor clinked lightly in response to the timid movement.

"Please tell me he's OK!" Winry shouted suddenly despite herself, reaching out to touch the cold hand of the armored body.

"Winry…" Al said softly, his voice strained as if he was crying within himself, "B-Brother is not here."

"Why not?" Winry forced a smile, brushing a stray blond strand out of her eyes, "I-Is he coming?"

Winry took two steps back and put a hand on the table in which she laid all her automail equipments, hammers, and screws.

"I-I've been preparing and working on something new for him," she said, adjusting her bandana nervously, "Please tell me he's coming…"

"There's been an incident," Al said quietly and quickly, as if wanting the pain to pass by fast, "And I'm afraid…"

"No!" Winry shook her head.

"…I'm afraid Brother didn't make it," Al finished.

"NO!" Winry balled her hands at her side and ran over to the window, "No, it can't be! It's impossible!"

"Winry! What's going on?"

Al turned towards the door that led to the stairway in the house and his eyes laid on a short, old woman who was looking sternly at him. Through her glasses, her gentle eyes now seemed to be asking what he had done to make her cry. Al almost wanted to laugh nervously like always, but this time, there was nothing to even smile about.

"Granny Pinako…" Al began.

"What's wrong, Al?" the old woman, Pinako, asked, "Had Ed made her cry again? That little pipsqueak…"

"Brother wouldn't like that," Al laughed forcefully, "Even if he's not here…"

"Eh, he's not here?" Pinako asked, "How so? He became a stranger to us now and sent only you to visit instead?"

"No, Brother is…" Al began.

"Ed is gone!" Winry cried, "He's gone, Grandma Pinako!"

Winry wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling colder despite the sun hitting at her through the window. Or perhaps it was just because she had had the top of her mechanic suit down and tied around her waist like always, leaving nothing above except her black tube top.

"Gone?" Pinako asked, turning to Al, "Alphonse, what is the meaning of this?"

"Brother is dead, Granny Pinako," Al said bluntly, though still trying to deliver the meaning of the words as gently as possible.

Silence draped over them like the evening sky fell over a stretch of land. For a long and painful second, nobody said anything. Pinako muttered something under her breath and turned around to head down the basement. The last Al saw of her before she disappeared down the steps was her unusual, stiff ponytail on top of her purple hair.

Always thought this would happen one day…

"Was that what Granny had said?" Al questioned himself, then looked over to Winry, whose fists were still shaking at her side in anger and grief.

"I'm sorry, Al," Winry said, her voice breaking, "I have to say that now, I'm sorry…for your loss…"

"No, it's not only my loss," Al shook his head, "It's as much as yours, Winry…I know…"

"You know what?" Winry smiled forcefully and wiped her tears.

"I'm not just here to deliver the tragic news," Al said timidly, reaching inside his armor and produced a stack of envelopes, "I…I have other things to deliver as well…"

"W-What are those?" Winry approached him, though in her mind, she already had a vague idea.

Without a word, Al handed the stack to Winry gently. Winry also did not know what to say as she accepted the enveloped clumsily, spilling some on the table of automail supplies right next to her. Wiping a tear off her cheek again, she quickly glanced over the letters written on the envelopes. Through the blurred sight behind the curtain of tears on her eyelashes, all the words written on each and every one of those envelopes look the same. Could they be…?

"They're all…" she began, picking one up, "They're all addressed to…"

Winry Rockbell

"I know you probably think Brother never wrote," Al said sadly, his voice just above a whisper, "But it's more like he never gathered the courage to send them. He wrote…almost every night, Winry. And I…I don't think I should explain why. I think you and I…and him, I think we all know why."

"I…I know," Winry's tears reached the point of uncontrollable as she clutched a letter to her chest and looked away, "I know…"

"Keep the letters, Winry," Al said unnecessarily, "I think Brother would want you to see them someday. It's pointless…to keep them in his suitcase now…"

With that, Al turned around looked ready to leave.

"Wait, Al!" Winry called.

"What is it?" he turned back slightly.

Winry bit her lower lip, deciding between asking him to join her for dinner, and perhaps fill her in more on Edward's death. But she also wanted tonight to herself. She wanted to sit in her tears and go through all these letters that were, perhaps, written with love for her.

"T-Thanks…" she said at last.

Al said nothing, except offering a nod. Then a second later, he was out the door and her mind was still too stuck in its mass of confusion to ask him where he would go.

-

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AN: So…how was that?

I came up with this story just by my strong stand for Winry and Ed. I mean, just look at them, they're so cute yet their pride are both so strong to actually admit anything to each other. But just look at his cute blush everytime she does something for him or compliments him. Anyways, he never wrote, but I bet if he had more time, he would (so this is my idea on what would happen if he does). But then again, it was never him to look back at what he left behind.

And that's where us fans come in, of course!