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He could hear her scream, despite her being so far away.
He sat up from the ground abruptly, looking around the greenery for a sign of the bratty girl.
"Winry?" he called out, and he spotted her tiny silhouette running towards him.
A group of men on horseback wasn't far behind.
"Shit."
"RUN!" she screamed, and grabbed his arm, jerking him to her side.
"What the hell did you do?!" he shouted, trying his best to not get caught in the wild foliage and keep up with the girl.
"Me? What did YOU do?!" she replied, and he noticed the chain of his pocket watch hanging outside of her dress.
Damn. They must have seen it.
The men were getting closer, and he was fearful of the weapons they might have, or the alchemy they may know. He grabbed her by the wrist and made a sharp turn to the right, darting into a darker part of the forest. The horses didn't catch their turn in time, putting a little more distance between them and the soldiers. Edward's grip tightened, and he pulled Winry into another sharp turn, earning a yelp from the girl as she nearly tripped and hurt her ankle. He saw it and cringed.
"Try to keep up!" he shouted to her. "We can't slow down!"
He could hear as she fought to stifle back tears but continued on.
The horses caught up to them. They were just as close as they were before, and Edward swore loudly as he tried to formulate a new escape route. Winry's limping was apparent as she ran, fighting to keep her tears from breaching. He clenched his teeth and pulled her into another sharp turn.
A fallen tree blocked their path, and Edward jumped over it. Winry attempted to mimic, but her injured foot hit the bark and sent her hurdling into Edward's back.
They tumbled down a steep hill. Edward flipped himself and grabbed the girl by her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. He wore garments to protect himself from rough terrains, she didn't. When they met the flat ground, he lifted her to her feet and began running again. The soldiers couldn't be far behind, even if he couldn't see their location at that moment.
He could feel Winry pull against him; she was losing momentum, and he couldn't keep going for much longer, either.
There was a cave in the distance. He knew the soldiers would inspect it immediately, but if he could alchemically create a hiding spot within it, maybe they'd be safe. He pulled Winry towards it, and her eyes locked on to the blackness within its opening.
"No!" she cried, her body shaking and pulling from his hold. "I won't go back in the dark!"
The fear in her voice caused Edward to pause, but only for a moment.
"I promise you'll come back out," he vowed and tightened his grip on her. "But we need to go. Now!"
He pulled her into the mouth of the cave, and they plunged into the darkness.
It was hard to navigate in the solid black of the cave, but Edward felt his way through with his free hand against its walls. The other was clenched tightly in Winry's hand, and he maintained a firm grip as if to tell her that he wouldn't leave her there to be alone in the ground once more. He wasn't sure why her fear affected him so, but in a way, it helped give him the drive to keep moving. He wasn't going to let her stay afraid.
"I'm not going back," he heard her whisper. "I'm not going back there, I'm not going back."
They reached the cave's end, and Edward found a deep crevice within the walls; it would fit both of them perfectly. All he needed to do was alchemically create a barrier to hide behind. He tried to retract his hand from hers, but Winry refused to let go.
"I'm not leaving," he told her, but her grip did not ease. "Winry, let go!"
Fire spiraled its way between them, just barely kissing the leather of Edward's glove before Winry reluctantly pulled away.
"What the hell?" Edward spat, and his wide eyes landed on a small fire, held in the hands of a black-eyed soldier.
"Stop running," the soldier warned, and he rose his hand high slowly. "And I'll spare you from unspeakable pain."
Edward snarled at the man.
"Dammit," he growled, and, quickly, began to formulate a plan of escape.
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Winry was quaking in fear. Her stare snapped between the soldier and Edward at a panicked speed. He was going to hurt them, he was going to hurt them. She didn't want to feel any more pain, but Edward couldn't heal the way she could. She unconsciously clasped her hand around the chain of Edward's watch.
The black-eyed shoulder saw her movement, saw the chain, and the ominous hand risen high above the flame moved its fingers to snap.
"Surrender to me the watch," he ordered darkly. "Now!"
Winry gasped. He's manipulating the flame, she thought, though she didn't know how she knew. It was instinctive, almost. Somehow, she knew that if he should snap his fingers, the flames would propel into them, into Edward.
She couldn't let him be harmed. Not when he was her only chance at escaping when he was the only one on her side.
She took a step forward but tripped on a piece of loose earth. Edward saw her in his peripheral vision, and the soldier, misinterpreting her bad footing as the beginnings of an assault, snapped his fingers. Winry saw a glint of silver hit the ground before a twisting, vibrant light blasted into them.
Edward pushed her back, letting his right side be engulfed in fire. He screamed as the heat burned through the fabric of his shirt, marring the skin of his right arm. Winry couldn't make a sound; the red and yellow of the flame illuminated the fear etched into her features.
Edward was still screaming as he clapped his hands and slapped the cave's wall. The area quaked, large rocks fell from overhead. The soldier quickly backed away, but his sight stayed glued on them. Edward was panting hard, and with another clap, he slammed his hands against the wall once more, and an opening appeared. He took her hands in his, and they made their ascent to the outside world once more.
But before Edward grabbed her hand, and before the portal was fully formed, Winry locked eyes with the soldier. It was only for a moment, but it felt as if time had frozen within those few seconds. The falling rocks did nothing to distract him, but she saw that as she moved to escape, his expression transfigured to something like shock.
She did not dwell on that moment long, however, for soon she and Edward were back to running as fast as they could, never once looking back to see if they were being followed.
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Mustang nearly collapsed as he staggered out of the cave.
"That girl," he muttered to himself. "It-it was like looking at a ghost."
Her hair, her eyes, her face. There was no mistaking it; she was the mirror image of the late Princess Sara. Could it be that she…
"Impossible," he told himself. "How could she have survived all these years?"
One of his men reported to his side.
"Sir," he stated. "We saw an explosion on the side of the cave and scanned the area. Are you harmed?"
"At ease, soldier," Mustang ordered. "I am well."
He stood slowly, dusting the earth from his uniform. "The suspects escaped. I need you and the others to report back to the kingdom."
He paused for a moment. "If I'm correct, we're going to have to turn this higher rank retrieval into a full-blown manhunt."
"Sir?" the soldier questioned, but his superior chose to ignore the comment.
"What are you waiting for? Go now!" Mustang ordered, and the man swiftly moved away.
He wasn't going to follow them back to the kingdom. He had somewhere more important to go, with someone very important to find.
If he was right in what he was thinking, the Fullmetal Alchemist held something much more valuable in his possession to the Queen than a pocket watch.
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They had made a great distance between themselves and the soldiers when Edward collapsed. Winry was still running when it happened, and when her body was pulled down with his, she let out the shrillest of squeals.
"Edward?" she whispered and tapped his side when he made no response. "Edward, speak to me."
For a moment, she thought he was dead, but when she saw the rise and fall of his back, she quickly calmed.
Suddenly, she remembered the flames, and how he had screamed as the fire made contact with his body. She turned her attention to his right arm and covered her mouth as she gasped. The skin was mutilated, stained in putrid shades of red, white and purple. Blisters and swelling were apparent on nearly the entire limb, and it pained her to look at it.
"Oh gods," she breathed and tightened her hand against her mouth. "He must have lost consciousness from the pain."
Oh, was there something she could do? The poor boy was so hurt, and these wounds were so bad. What if he died? She couldn't bear the thought of such a horrid thing. He may be a brat, but he saved her life!
A thought struck her. Kimblee often took her blood to heal small wounds when he came home from his journeys, perhaps that would work for Edward! She searched his person for a sharp object, but he carried nothing of the sort.
"Dammit," she muttered.
She tried to bite down hard on her lip, to just draw a little blood, but cried out before she could. Gods, what was she going to do?
…and then it happened again.
A strange correlation of shapes and patterns flashed behind her eyes, and, before she could think, she pulled that thought to the front of her mind, and place her hands on Edward's wounds.
A faint red glow emitted from beneath her palms, and she let out a soft breath as a lightness flowed through her, unlike anything she had ever felt. Her vision blurred as her mind was flooded with colors and imprints of strange, archaic designs. Her limbs tingled with a strange cold, and her breathing grew tremulous and irregular. Her muscles tightened as the final surge of energy shot through her, and she became hyper-aware of all that surrounded her.
The bugs, birds, and other creatures of the forest sang in an ancient, native tongue that echoed through her head as she gasped harshly, releasing Edward's arm and falling back into the grass. She panted as she stared into the evening sky. Her nerves itched with a strange sensation, and she craned her neck to see if she did it; to see if Edward was okay.
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He sucked in the night air as if he were a drowning man. His chest vibrated in an unharmonious pattern, and he grasped his injured arm as he abruptly shot up from the ground. His ears buzzed, and his face felt hot. He tried to calm his breathing, but failed to do so. Releasing a deep, staggered breath, his eyes darted to his right arm.
It was fine. How was it fine?
He looked to Winry, who was rolling onto her stomach, slowly lifting herself into an upright position.
"It worked," she whispered. "I can't believe it worked."
What worked? What did she do?
Any type of coherence left his mind as he noticed the chain of the watch was no longer hanging from outside of her dress.
"You didn't," he stammered, his features hardened. "Tell me you didn't.."
She blinked, and her face fell. "You were hurt, you could have died!"
"So you used it?!" he barked, throwing his fist down into the ground.
"Used what?" she yelled back, and her eyes grew wide.
She placed a hand on her chest, patting the area for something that was now gone.
"Edward, I—I'm so sorry."
He thought he might get sick. Rage, fear, defeat; they all engulfed his being as Winry stammered apologies. He slammed his hand into the ground again.
"Dammit!"
That was his only chance at helping him- of helping his brother. Damn it all, after everything he went through, why was it gone?!
He continued to thrash his fist into the earth.
"Edward!" she shrieked, and he barely noticed the small stone that cut through leather and wedged itself in-between his knuckles.
She quickly snatched his hand and inspected the wound. Her slender fingers clasped the stone and removed it almost painlessly.
"You idiot!" she exclaimed, and angrily removed the glove. "I just healed you!"
She then closed her eyes and placed two fingers on the wound. He saw a red spark, and a strange heat warmed the skin of his hand. A rush of energy flowed through his arm, through him, and he gasped as she let go of him.
There was no trace of the wound.
"What the hell?" he shrieked, and backed away from her with rapid speed.
He immediately regretted the action, for the pained expression Winry wore made him want to reach for her. He glanced at his hand, then back at her.
"What," he began, then cleared his throat. "What the hell was that?
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This was it.
It was now or never; she needed to tell Edward what she was.
His sharp, gold stare never wavered. What will happen when he knows? How will he look at her, what will he do with her? Her heart was beating so rapidly, and she feared her voice would fail her. She inhaled deeply through her nose and released the breath quickly through her mouth.
"I," she whispered, looking down at her hands. "I don't know how, but I can do things. Things people shouldn't be able to do."
She coiled and recoiled her fingers, then flipped her hands to look at her palms.
"I lost my family before I could even remember them," she continued. " They were killed, and all they wanted to do was keep me safe."
She paused, took another breath, and continued
"I lived in that place, because of that," she stated, her voice would not yet let her raise its volume. "Because people wanted my power. They wanted me, to take my blood and hands, and use me…"
She wanted to look up, to see how Edward was looking at her, but she was too frightened.
"The man who protected me, who raised me and taught me… tried to make me his," and she stifled a whimper at the memory of his hands on her, and how horrible it felt. "But I couldn't love him. Not like that."
She took another moment to breathe, to keep herself from breaking down. "I wasn't safe there anymore. So, when you came and you said you didn't want me, I thought, maybe, I can escape. I could go somewhere new, somewhere really safe, and I was scared that if I told you, you'd refuse, or maybe start to want me for the reasons so many others did."
Oh, how she wanted to see his face, to know what he must be thinking.
"I just want to be safe, to find a new home and be free of all this," she told him. "I didn't mean to scare you, and I'm sorry that I took your treasure. I-I-"
Then, she risked it.
She looked up at him through the curtain of her hair, and his expression caused her to feel a lightness in her stomach that emulated when she used her powers. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung slightly open, but he did not look away from her. He looked frightened, and she wondered if it was because of her, or because of what she told him.
Her lip quivered, and she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. All the pain that she felt from being alone so many nights, of fearing the world and everything in it, and all the anguish her young heart held throughout her life surfaced, and it was too much for her to bear. She twined her fingers into the grass and cried. She choked on whimpers and inhaled tears, gasping as her head dropped towards the ground.
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It was too much, it was just too damn much for one person to take.
He listened in horror as she told him, and her words made his stomach sink.
It made so much damn sense; her fearful looks, what she said underground, why he found her all alone in the dark..
His fists clenched in rage over it. How could someone justify such treatment? How could someone leave a poor girl in a place like that?
Her powers. It was all because of that. People wanted her for it, wanted to use her for it, and it made him feel sick. So sick, because he had done something for almost the same reason.
Would he have been one of those men, had he known of her power long ago? Could he possibly be the kind of man to hunt her, to use her for his own benefit? Wasn't that what he was after the watch for; because of what he heard it could do, and hoped it would for him?
Then he saw her lip tremble, her eyes fog with tears, and he knew his answer.
No, he could never do that to someone, especially someone like her. Although the pain of losing it caused a dull ache in his heart, the watch was just an object. She was a breathing, feeling, living creature. He could never bring himself to cause someone like her harm, nor could he bring himself to hate her for losing the object for which he pined.
He moved to her and reached for her hands.
"You're safe with me, I promise," he whispered, and in an instant, she fell into him, her sobs growing harder as she clinged to the fabric of his shirt.
He didn't know what he'd do now that he had lost what he searched so desperately for, but he found a momentary solace as he wrapped his arms around her.
Perhaps, they could find what they were looking for in each other. A cure, a home; it was possible that the only way to reach these things, was when they held each other in their grasp.
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