Tears
Ed had made fun of Winry for years about being a crybaby when they were young. He would mock and shout at her for crying at anything, even it was justified in her mind. Winry hated that he would make her feel small and weak, when she was already feeling down.
Ed had never liked seeing Winry cry, so his reaction was big and boisterous when she did. It never dawned on him how much it hurt her to be scolded by him.
When her parents died, he didn't scold her for crying. It was a new side to him she didn't know.
Ed had expected after returning home with his arm and Al's body that Winry would still be a crybaby. He had expected her to still tear up and get emotional, and he didn't know how to respond when she didn't.
"What happened?" Ed lifted her sleeve up higher on her arm, watching her run cold water from the faucet over it.
Winry shrugged. "The soldering iron hit my arm and went through my shirt. Got to cool the spot down before dressing it."
Ed stared at the angry red welt being pummeled with water. "You did what?"
"I got clumsy and dropped the soldering iron on my arm when reaching for semantics. It's not a big deal."
Ed visibly baulked and took a step back. "Not a big deal?" he hissed out at her. "You've got a nasty burn and it's not a big deal?"
Winry's eyes sparked, daring him to question her. "No, it's not. I've done it before and I'll do it again."
Ed opened a drawer and grabbed a towel, pulling her arm from the sink to get a better look at the line crossing her forearm. "What do you mean by that exactly? How many times have you burned yourself like this?"
She winced a little as he dabbed it dry. Ed growled out in frustration, whipping his head up to meet her gaze. "This is serious, Winry. This is going to scar."
Winry didn't back down from his glare and tossed him one back. "Yeah, and so? I've got scars. I'm not some pretty princess who has unblemished skin. Things happen." She pulled away from him, walking into the front room to find the medical kit. "It stops bothering you after a while. It's a risk of the job."
Ed stormed after her, watching her put salve and wrap up her forearm. "A risk? Winry, pain is supposed to tell you to not do something. You're not supposed to get used to it!"
"Oh that's rich coming from you." Winry muttered, tucking away what she had pulled out.
"From me?"
"Yeah!" Winry spun on her heel and faced him, her head ever so slightly tilted up to stare into his face. "Yeah, from you! Look at how many scars you have, over half of them I don't know where they came from! I don't see you breaking down and stopping what you're doing over some pain, so why should I? People rely on me!"
Ed inhaled quickly. "That's different."
"How so?" Winry's demands were met with silence. Huffing and rolling her eyes, Winry pushed past him and back into her work station where he heard the whirling and grinding sounds that were constant in the house starting up again.
Ed had expected her to cry, to scream, to do anything but brush off being hurt like that. Most people would have cried from a burn that severe, and sought out medical attention, but here she was just going back to her work like nothing had happened.
She didn't even go upstairs to change her shirt. Ed's mind raced, wondering why he was so bothered by her not crying for once.
Al's head popped into his vision after a while and they stared at each other.
Al was the one who broke the silence. "Automail making is dangerous I guess."
Ed nodded, finally looking at the door that led to where Winry was working away on who knows what.
Al joined him in observing the barrier. "She's not a little girl anymore, brother. She's learned how to handle her own."
Ed didn't really notice when Al finally took his leave. The realization that the absence of her tears hurt more than her crying had hit him too hard.
