Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. Nor do I own "I'll Stand by You." Credit goes to The Pretenders.

Author's Note: This chapter is shorter, I know! But I was busy and hada depression strike. >. And it's funny, I'm kinda going through the same thingas Ed and Winry here, with their funny little "Must develop trust" relationship...yeah, long story, stay tuned in the LJ for more details.

Chapter 15: I'll Stand By You

Edward smiled at her when she walked into the kitchen. It was a half-hearted smile, but still a smile. Since she was female, she'd appreciate it. But since she was Winry, and she almost knew what he was going through, she was astounded. Once he told her a few things he was going through, she'd be speechless. With a serious appreciative feeling, she smiled back at him through her bleary eyes.

"Morning, Edward."

He kicked out the chair opposite him at the island. "Morning," he mumbled. If possible, he looked even more tired than she was after first waking up.

Winry scratched her head a bit as she sat down. The awkward silence that wasn't so awkward to them settled in the kitchen. She looked around the room, waiting for him to say something. Even to her groggy mind, she knew Edward wanted to say something serious. If she wanted to hear it, then she would have to wait. Asking him would frustrate and fluster him, causing him to blow off the opportunity he'd given himself. She knew more about him than he thought. But there was just that one little thing about him that she was dying to know: his past. And Winry had a feeling that what he wanted to say was about that. If she hadn't been still tired, she would have been beside herself and on the edge of her bar stool with anticipation.

About five minutes into the silence, she was feeling a little more awake. She'd found where the coffee pot was, and probably where coffee grounds were kept. It sounded like a very good idea. So Winry looked at Edward and set herself to get up. "You want me to make some coffee?" she asked.

He seemed to immediately snap out of a trance of staring at the refrigerator when she spoke. He thought for a moment, processing what she'd said, before answering. "No. Winry," he said softly, leaning forward on his elbows. He tangled his fingers in his unbraided hair. He was stalling for time, she realized, as he pulled his golden locks back into a ponytail. Winry smiled a little when she remembered how his hair felt between her fingers.

"Yes, Edward?" she said patiently. She didn't sound like she was dying to know what he had to say, nor did she sound like she was completely uninterested. Her voice was the soft tone that merely spoke of wanting to be there to help, if he wanted it, to listen if he wanted to talk. And to top it off, she smiled gently at him, subconsciously telling him that things were okay, that they would be okay.

He looked at her a moment later. He looked less stressed, like he'd just won an inner battle with himself and he was ready to take what was his and run with it. "Let's talk," he said finally.

Winry couldn't have been more thrilled to hear those two words. So she nodded, not saying anything. Then she waited. What was she waiting for? She was waiting for him to say something, anything else. He seemed at a sudden loss for words. Then a half smile came over his face.

"That coffee does sound good," he said. Behind the façade of his smile, though, Winry saw the disappointment in himself that he couldn't talk to her.

She was disappointed, too, but there was only so much she could do to help him talk. Refusing to do anything until he talked wasn't one of them. So, she slid off the bar stool and went over to the coffee pot. She didn't usually drink coffee as she was more opt for tea, but people told Winry that she made the best coffee. It was just one of those ironic things that she was good at something she didn't like that much. But that's usually how things worked, right?

In about ten minutes, Winry and Edward were sitting opposite each other again. There was a mug of steaming coffee in his hands, and a mug of steaming tea in hers. It was really killing her to just sit, trying to be patient while he worded his phrases. It honestly couldn't take that long to sort his thoughts out, could it? Or, who knows? Since this was Edward she was thinking about, he could take a week and still not have things in order.

"Edward," she said softly, tracing her finger along the edge of her mug.

He nodded. "Okay." His voice was a little more sure, now, of what he was going to say. He looked at her seriously. "My mother died," he stated.

Winry nodded. "I'm sorry," she replied, not positive of what a good response would be. She waited for him to continue. He looked to be warring inwardly again.

"It, ah, happened when I was eighteen. She was sick." He nodded to himself and mumbled the phrase under his breath again. "But, that isn't what killed her." Edward took a deep breath like he was going to tell her what happened. "My dad walked out when I was six. I haven't heard from him since, so I don't know if he's dead or alive." He laughed a little ironically. "Frankly, I don't particularly care, either." He lifted his metal hand and ran it down his hair. He looked to be finished with his very short monologue. But she never knew what to expect with Edward.

"What about your metal limbs?" she asked. She was especially curious about that story.

He shook his head. "Another day," he said, sipping his coffee. He set down the mug and sighed. "I hate my dad. I don't remember him, but I hate him. He left, and that's why my mom died. The doctors said it was some form of cancer, but she died of a broken heart." He clenched his hands tightly on the mug. Winry was afraid it was going to crack, but then the phone rang. She watched him flinch in surprise. Where was the phone, anyway? Winry hadn't located it earlier.

Edward growled and slid off the bar stool. Then he walked over to part of the counter that was buried in newspapers. He looked to be a little regretful as he tossed the papers to the side and unearthed the cordless phone.

"Hello," he said curtly.

Winry took this as her cue to zone out. But, no matter how hard she tried to not listen to him, she couldn't focus on something else. So she stared out of the window over the sink and took in his words.

"He's in the hospital. No, I don't know when he'll be released." With ever word, his tone was becoming more and more aggravated. "Yes, I mind if you ask; what happened was none of your business. I'll have him call when he is out, whenever that is." Promptly, Edward hung up the phone. Winry sighed to herself.

He was so uptight all of the time. Why couldn't he just take five minutes to breathe, to figure things out? If he just had a good conversation with himself, and maybe even a good cry, maybe he wouldn't be so stressed all of the time. Or if he would just talk to someone, really talk to someone about the things that had happened in his life, some of the burdens would be lifted from his shoulders. Winry could see them. He carried the weight of his mother's death on his shoulders. Maybe he thought that there was something he could have done to keep her from dying? Or maybe he felt responsible for some aspect of her death.

Whatever it was, it certainly chained Edward down.

"Winry?" His slightly miserable voice brought her from her pondering.

She looked at him. He was over at the sliding doors with his forearms against the glass. His head was in his hands, and he was looking at the ground. "Yes, Edward?" He truly looked pitiful. He didn't just need to talk, to cry, or anything. He also needed a hug.

He sighed, and his entire body moved with the action. "I don't want to talk anymore," he said, like it really mattered to her what he did, like she had control over him.

She slid off the bar stool as well. Slowly, she made her way over to him. "Then don't," she murmured when she came up behind him. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around his waist. There really wasn't much to the man, physically. He was short and lean, but well-muscled. However, he more than made up for his slight self in the issues he carried around.

Winry felt him stiffen in her arms. In response, she merely rested her cheek on his back. "Edward," she whispered, "just let go." He was thinking; she could practically hear his thoughts.

"I'm afraid," he began, "if I do, I'll do something I'll regret." His voice was low and careful. He really was scared of what might happen.

She squeezed him gently. "I'll still love you, Edward, no matter what. I'll stand by you, even though you probably don't want me to. I promise." She smiled to herself, now that she had finally gotten those words out, the words she'd been wanting to tell him for so long.

Edward put his hands over hers and pulled her arms from his waist. Winry was about to sigh in disappointment that she hadn't been able to get through to him when he turned around and replaced her arms around his middle again. Before she could look at him, he had pulled her against him tightly. He was shaking a little, but Winry pretended she didn't notice. Or maybe she should?

Slowly, she rubbed his back. "Edward," she whispered, brushing her cheek against his. She wanted to look at him, to see his face when she told him she loved him again.

Once more, he beat her to the punch of an action. "You don't want to know me, Winry, you really don't," he breathed against her ear.

She rolled her eyes to herself. Then she moved her mouth next to his ear. "Stop telling me what I want and just kiss me," she whispered.

There was a pause, the two second silence before the collision. Then there was a shuddering crash as his mouth came down upon hers firmly. Winry shivered when his hand went to the back of her head and into her hair. It was probably one of the most world-shattering moments she had experienced to date to have this man kiss her now, like he was. He was forceful, yet gentle; urgent, but patient. He was a contradiction of himself, really.

When he turned so her back was against the wall, Edward changed the depth of the kiss. He slid his tongue between her lips, causing a shudder to claim her momentarily. She felt him smile a little against her mouth at her reaction. Winry had never really been kissed like that, so it was only all right that she was a little surprised. Especially surprised, she thought, when she could suddenly taste him more than she had a moment ago.

She let him kiss her for she didn't know how long. The feel of his tongue touching hers was so different that she couldn't think in a straight line, much less judge how much time had passed. She started to realize, though, that Edward was slowly becoming less and less gentle with the kiss. At first it had started out as a mind-numbing event. Now she could feel his fingertips on her shoulders, pressing down hard enough to possibly leave a faint mark. So she tried to pull her head back from his gently, but he didn't seem to realize what he was doing.

Winry was halfway grateful when the phone rang again. Edward tore away from her with a curse. His face was turned to the side and facing the floor. He was breathing heavily. She could understand why! She was at a loss for breath, as well, after that. Then he looked at her. There was a slight dazed expression in his eyes as he took in her expression. There must have been a bit of fear, or hesitance in her eyes because he swore again.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked. It almost took all Winry had to shake her head. In reality, her lips were tingling and her head was spinning. She was pretty sure that she might have a little bruise or more on her shoulders from his fingers, but she wouldn't tell him that. He had enough that he seemed to hate himself for; why add to the pile when she was trying to save him?

The phone continued to ring. Edward kept his eyes fixed on Winry, as if he was expecting her to suddenly burst out into tears, proclaiming she hated him and never wanted to see him again. Actually, quite the contrary. She was sure a smile was about to slide onto her face and the love she felt was blossoming more that he was able to show her a different side of him. So, with a shaky hand, she touched her fingers to his cheek softly and leaned forward to touch her lips to his again.

"Answer your phone," she said with a half smile.

Ed looked a little confused, but he reached over to the bar and picked up the handset. "Yeah?" She watched him step away, listening to the person on the other end. A brief look of excitement had crossed over his features. But it had quickly dwindled back to his impassive mask. He nodded to himself occasionally, making noises of confirmation to whomever he was speaking. "All right, I'll be there," he said then hung up. He set the phone down and remained motionless for all of five seconds. Then he swore loudly and rather savagely. Winry didn't think to correct him. He was obviously pissed off at something now.

She followed him with her eyes as he went into the living room and sat on the couch. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands for a few seconds, then sat back against the couch again. His head tilted back on the edge and he shut his eyes. Winry wondered what it was that plagued him now. The poor thing was having a rough morning. Hesitantly, she stepped into the living room and stood beside him.

"Edward?" she asked softly.

He grunted at her. "Give me a minute," he mumbled. Then he patted the spot on the couch next to him.

Winry thought a moment - not that she didn't want to sit next to him, she did, but it just seemed like she should be a little hesitant at the moment. After all, they had just shared a mind-numbing, world-smattering kiss, and he seemed to be a little on the edgy side at the moment. Yeah, she had a bit of a right be a little wary. But, she sat down next to him anyway. It was obvious she was tense. Even Edward sensed it and lifted his hand to her shoulder.

She peeked over at him. He looked so ridiculous, leaning his head on the couch back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open. Occasionally, his eyes would twitch, like he was dreaming. But she knew he was very much awake still. His breathing was steadily becoming louder and heavier. In fact, it was much like his breathing when he'd been having his night terrors.

"Edward?" she asked again, placing her hand on his knee. Then she took her hand back when she felt the metal there. A shiver went through her. Not knowing his past, the reason behind those odd metal limbs, was absolute torture.

He opened his eyes slowly, taking in a deep breath. Then he turned his head to look at her. "Sorry," he murmured. He put his arm around her shoulders lightly.

"Who was on the phone?" she asked softly, leaning her head onto his arm.

Edward sighed. "The hospital. Al's awake, finally, and slightly coherent. They want me to come down within the hour," he mumbled to her, staring up at the ceiling again.

Winry shifted so she was facing him. "That's good, isn't it?" She nodded. It was good, right?

He shook his head. "Not really. I don't like that hospital. Too many bad memories," he grumbled. "So I'm halfway glad that they're going to destroy that one and build a new one a few blocks away."

With a bit of a laugh, Winry leaned closer. "What bad memories?" Maybe, just maybe, she could weasel a few more facts out of him that morning before they left.

Edward looked at her again with an arched eyebrow. "You wish," he said simply, then turned his face back to the ceiling.

Okay, maybe not, she told herself. Well, she could get points for trying. A little bit of effort never hurt anyone. Heck, it even sometimes resulted in actually getting something! But with Edward, usually, if the effort was aimed towards his past, then she rarely found something out. So, with a sigh, she gazed at him.

He looked so content at the moment, just relaxing on his couch with her. It didn't matter if he didn't really register her being there; he looked deep in thought. But still, he was probably the type of person would tell someone to go away in an uncomplimentary way if they bothered him. And since he hadn't told her to go away yet, she took that as a good sign. Winry was probably very fortunate to have made it so close to him in this amount of time. She was pretty sure there were a couple of things that Alphonse had yet to be told. But, Winry was also pretty sure that Edward hadn't told her any of those things yet, either.

Would there be a "yet?" Did she want to wait long enough for a "yet" to come? She wasn't sure. She knew she would get tired of waiting eventually if she did decide to. Then what would happen? It would be hard to just drop things, since they were already working on a "history" together. Winry knew she would never be the same after that kiss earlier; she'd never felt anything like it before. And she hoped Edward wouldn't feel the same, either.

He had so much pain, and Winry only knew a fraction of it. He usually looked sad when he was thinking, believing no one was watching him. Occasionally, when she had been watching him, she'd seen him swipe under his eyes inconspicuously, as though to wipe away a tear he was ashamed of. Those were the times she just wanted to hug him, because she knew what it was to cry over something lost! It was a hard path to trod, but she'd been down it and come out all right. And if he was getting teary-eyed over something he'd done in the past, there was little he could tell her that would make her change how she felt. You couldn't choose who you loved. But she still wanted to stand by him, despite his usual crankiness and bad-tempered persona. When he wanted to get mad, she'd let him get mad; it was better to let his feelings out somehow or other! He couldn't hide everything! She even got mad at him, and let him know it, too! But, even though she got mad, he got mad, they both yelled, Winry did want to stand by him, to be with him, to wait for that "yet" when he would tell her his past.

He probably felt like he was in a dark place now, that no one was really with him. She wanted to let him know that she was there for him, and that he could trust her with his feelings. Winry imagined he had been hurt in the past; well, she would just help him trust again. And in doing that, maybe he would come to love her, truly.

Hey, she could dream, couldn't she?

"Winry?" His voice startled her out of her thoughts.

She blinked a few times to focus her eyes and saw that Edward was looking at her intently. He looked a little sad, still. Winry wanted to just hold him and tell him it would be all right. Wow, a lot of girlfriend-like feelings she was experiencing lately. She wondered if it was a sign?

"Will you come with me?" he asked softly, looking elsewhere now.

It almost broke her heart to see him so wary of a certain subject. So she reached out again and touched his cheek. Gently, but with enough force to let him know she was serious, Winry moved his face back to look at her. "Yes, I'll come with you Edward," she promised. He smiled at her, regaining a some of his usual arrogance, like he'd expected nothing else of her.

He stood. "All right, well, I'm going to get something to eat," he said and went into the kitchen.

Winry laughed to herself and stood up, as well. "I'm going to get a shower. You might want to, also, from last night," she advised, smiling. She didn't want to really sound like a mother hen or remind him of all the happenings. So, maybe if she acted like she was thinking about the club, then he'd remember that people get all sweaty when they dance. But, she saw in his eyes the memory of Al, bleeding on the floor against the turn-style. Mentally, she kicked herself. "Well...I'll be out in a few minutes."

He nodded. "All right."

When she was inside the bathroom, she shut and leaned against the door. "Idiot," she berated herself.

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What'd y'all think? Lemme know. And I'm pretty sure that I"m gonna start posting stuff, like thoughts and commentaries about my chapters on my Live Journal. (link in profile) And, I also had this idea...it'll be another EdWin fic that takes place during the Dick Tracy period...like the 1930s, 1940s...that time. Again, check out the LJ for stuff on that. Okay! I'll see y'all next week, hopefully. Peace...lurve...reviews.