Chapter 4
War Stories
After several hours the driver announced they were approaching Central, and Ed began to wake the other passengers. Al and Riza woke quickly – Riza with a slight tension in her muscles that betrayed a life in the middle of a war. Breda and Paninya were just as easy to rouse – like Riza, it took very little to wake them and the instant they did they were ready for action. Envy flipped neatly onto his feet when Al tapped his shoulder and Scar opened his eyes as soon as Ed was within five feet of him.
Finally Ed stood in front of Winry, smiling fondly at her sleeping form. Curled into a small ball, with her hair splayed over her face and hands tucked under her head, she looked like a young girl again, asleep after pulling an all-nighter while working on his arm.
He reached down for her shoulder, only to find his wrist gripped in Paninya's automail hand and yanked away.
"Don't," she hissed, shaking her head. "It's not a good idea."
Carefully, Paninya toed the sole of Winry's foot. "Winry, wake up!"
It happened within the space of a heartbeat. Winry leapt from the seats, a gun flew into her hand, and before anyone could react she was on her feet, gun cocked and ready to fire, her body tense as a coiled spring. She blinked, seemed to realise there was no threat, then relaxed and holstered her gun.
"Morning, everyone," she yawned.
Ed knew his jaw was hanging open. Beyond anything else, the hair-trigger reflex had given him a terrifying example of just how much Winry had changed – of what she must have gone through to change like that, to develop reflexes like that.
He knew Riza and Al were similarly astonished, but Paninya, Breda, Scar and Envy didn't blink twice. He supposed they considered it normal.
Winry yawned again, stretching. "Are we at Central?"
Riza recovered herself first and nodded. "The Major General should be waiting for us at the gates."
"Major General...?" Winry murmured, "Oh, right...Roy Mustang."
"Okay, people," she turned to the others, her voice sliding into 'Commander' mode once more. "I think everyone is aware of the potential shock value your appearance has."
Breda snickered, Envy snorted, and Scar just nodded in acknowledgment of Winry's words.
"Which is why I think I should go out first," their leader continued. "And I'll introduce Paninya first, then Breda...and then Scar and Envy, because you two are the ones most likely to produce a hostile reaction. One shock at a time, people."
Ed noticed that Winry seemed to be slipping into the manner of speech often used while planning battles.
But then Riza was opening the doors, and he stepped with her, Hayate and Al into the light of the early dawn.
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Major General Roy Mustang waved the truck in through the gates that protected Central. He, Fuery and Armstrong stood at attention as it coasted to a stop, ready to welcome the Commander of the Rush Valley Resistance.
He just hoped they weren't some old, balding man with an ego the size of a mountain who was bent on taking over Amestrian government simply because he had the biggest army.
Ed, Al and Riza stepped out of the truck, and Roy had a moment to be surprised that the Elric brothers had returned with Riza. He would have thought they'd have wanted to spend more time with Winry. But then Riza saluted him, and his surprise was lost in the familiar stab of guilt that speared him whenever he glimpsed the black ink on her forearm.
Just one of the many things that were his fault. He'd sent her and Breda to guard her grandfather, saying that the Dissident's founder needed the very best guarding him. And then they'd been captured; Breda never to be seen again, and Riza...
Roy swallowed the pain that came rushing upwards at the memory. He'd been among those sent to help liberate Camp 13, and finding Riza leading the prisoners there...words couldn't describe it. He'd shouted her name and run towards her, the facade of professionalism tossed in the dust behind him...
And her face had paled, and she'd skittered away from him like a frightened rabbit.
And then he'd known.
He'd been careful ever since...religiously so. He never touched her or leaned too close to her, and he was careful to leave her plenty of personal space so she never felt trapped. Not one word of innuendo passed his lips, and his playful flirting had vanished.
He didn't know if it made any difference, didn't know if she was grateful for his clumsy attempts to ease her or contemptuous of his pity. But he had to do something to ease the savage guilt that gnawed at him, and if he couldn't take away the nightmares or the haunted look from her eyes then these gestures – pitiful though they might be – were the only things he could do for her. And she did seem to be getting better, however slowly that recovery was progressing.
"Did you persuade the Resistance Commander to return with you?" he asked, seeing no one following them out of the truck.
"We did," Riza nodded, "But I should warn you, sir...the Commander may not be what you expect."
A figure stepped from behind the open truck doors and into the sunlight.
And Roy stared.
It definitely wasn't an old, balding man with an ego the size of a mountain who was bent on taking over Amestrian government simply because he had the biggest army. It was a young, blonde girl with an air of calm assurance about her and a look in her eyes that practically radiated inner strength. She looked vaguely familiar...
She smiled, a chipped tooth flashing past scarred lips for a brief instant. "Remember me?"
Armstrong's eyes widened. "Miss...Miss Rockbell?"
"Call me Winry."
Roy's brow furrowed, and he heard Fuery gasp. This hardened warrior in front of them was Fullmetal's mechanic?
Looking her over, he could see the war hadn't been kind to her. The scar across her face, the lines around her eyes, the inherent wariness in the way she moved...all were mute testament to years lived in hardship, years spent on the battlefield.
Roy and Fuery were staring unabashedly and Armstrong was stumbling over his words when their military training asserted itself, reminding them of their job.
"Commander-" Roy began, his tone formal.
"Winry," Winry corrected, a note of command in her voice, saying she would brook no argument.
Roy caught the hard glint in her eye and conceded. "Winry...did any of your officials accompany you?"
Winry nodded, "I'd like you to meet Paninya."
A dark-haired, dark-skinned girl stepped from the truck. Legs and a hand made of automail reflected the early light like the glassy surface of a lake. Introductions were made, hands were shaken, and Roy's impression of the girl was of a true second-in-command – strong, capable and fiercely loyal.
"And may I re-introduce Heymans Breda?" Winry announced as the stocky man stepped out in his turn.
Roy felt the two men beside him jerk in shock. He felt his jaw hang slack, knew his eyes were round as a pair of coins...but he couldn't do anything except stare.
Breda had long ago been written off as dead. Yet here he was, standing right in front of them, grinning madly.
"Been a while," was all Breda said, swallowing past the lump of emotion in his throat.
"Been a very long while," Fuery managed, apparently struggling valiantly to keep his dignity.
Roy made a small, unintelligible noise, seemingly of disbelief. Armstrong, who was not quite as constrained as his two companions, swept the prodigal Lieutenant up into a bone-snapping hug.
"Glad to see someone hasn't changed," Winry chuckled.
But she supposed it made sense – that Roy, Riza, Fuery, Breda, Armstrong and all the others had changed so little. They had lived through a war before and however they coped with it back then was the way they coped now.
"And I think you've already met Scar and Envy," Winry finished as the final members of her group disembarked.
She could see the three military men stiffen. The very air seemed to crackle with electric tension, like the sky before a lightning strike.
"You have...interesting...choice in allies," Roy finally managed. "Are you sure-?"
"Don't worry about them," Winry cut in, "They answer to me if they mess with any of you." There was a pause, and the lines of Winry's face could have been carved from stone as her voice lowered, turning deadly serious, "And you answer to me if you mess with them."
"Understood," Roy said, squashing the urge to salute in reflex to the hard, commanding voice.
Winry's voice changed in the space of a breath, from the growl of a battle-hardened leader to the innocent, laughing tone of a young woman who had only just passed twenty-one. "Now, while I'm all for moving the negotiations forward, I really need some sleep. Do you have rooms for us or something?"
"We do," Roy nodded, gesturing for Winry to step into Central's Dissident headquarters. It seemed as though he'd have to be the one to show her around – at least until Fuery and Armstrong recovered from the double-shock of seeing a long-lost friend and two sworn enemies following the slight woman in front of him.
But as soon as Winry was settled, he was going to talk with Breda and figure out just what was going on here.
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"You wanted to see me?" Breda said, coasting into what was normally used as a briefing room.
"Is Winry sleeping?" Ed couldn't help asking.
Breda nodded, "Thanks for the rooms, Major General, the Commander really needs to get some shut-eye. I've never seen her so beat – not that you could tell."
Roy was surprised by the note of true respect in Breda's voice when he referred to the Commander, a woman almost fifteen years his junior.
"So, what's up?" Breda asked, looking at the faces arrayed around him. Armstrong, Fuery, Roy and Riza were sitting in chairs, while Ed and Al stood near the window.
"We...have some concerns about who Winry chose to bring with her," Riza began, "Especially considering..."
"You're worried about how Scar and Envy will deal with being surrounded by people they once called their enemies," Breda supplied.
"It can't be denied that both were actively involved in attacks on the military, before the civil war," Armstrong said gruffly. "Scar, in particular, was on a crusade to wipe out State Alchemists."
Breda nodded. "I know. And no one really knows how Envy survived when Father and the rest of the homunculi were killed."
Ed, having been in the North, had not been involved in the battle that finally wiped his most implacable enemies from the face of the earth. But there were rumours a man calling himself Hohenheim had been involved...
"Well, Winry probably knows," Breda amended, "If Envy told anyone, it would be her."
"That's something else we're finding hard to grasp," Roy said, "Why would Scar and Envy follow someone like Winry? It makes no sense."
"Before we left, Winry said they'd be no problem, because they knew she'd deal with them," Riza murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. "I admit I thought they wouldn't care about that. But they seem...genuinely attached to her."
"But not romantically though," Al chimed in. "It's something...different. The bond is there, but it's more...spiritual...than anything else."
"You just don't get it," Breda sighed, shaking his head. "Scar, Envy, Paninya, me...we all follow the Commander. Every one of us is behind her one hundred percent. Scar and Envy trust her...as much as they trust anyone. And she reciprocates. They won't attack or sabotage or do anything along those lines – not because she told them not to, though that is part of it, but because to do so would be letting her down."
"But..." Fuery started.
Breda grinned, looking at his younger friend as though he could read his mind. "How can Winry inspire that kind of devotion?" He shrugged. "I can't really explain. But if you'd seen her during the war, you'd understand. She radiates this calm, compassionate assurance; the sort of aura that makes you follow her anywhere."
The large man paused for a moment, his eyes distant. "She got me out of that prison camp, you know? Me, and everyone else that was held there. The Resistance charged in and the guards fought back, some prisoners tried to escape, some tried to fight the guards as well...it was chaos, utter chaos. And Winry was there, in the thick of it, calm and collected – cool as ice – shouting out orders to bring everyone back under control. Then when the guards had been killed, she took every one of us back to Rush Valley, got us medical treatment, proper food, places to sleep. She didn't even eat until she'd gotten every one of us settled."
The door opened, interrupting Breda's story and making everyone jump. Winry strode confidently in.
"What are you doing here?" Fuery asked, before he could stop himself.
Winry turned cool eyes and an even cooler voice on him as she spoke, "The others informed me you had requested Breda's presence. Since you couldn't possibly have anything to say to him that you wouldn't say to his Commander's face, I decided to join you."
Fuery felt a shiver run up his spine. The look in her eyes was the look of a leader questioned, a leader whose ability was beyond reproach among those who followed her.
"So, anyway, if I guess correctly, you were discussing my current companions' questionable loyalties?" Winry supplied.
Her voice was cheerful, but there was a hard edge to it.
"We were merely-" Armstrong started.
But Winry interrupted, speaking directly to Roy, the commanding officer. "Look, I don't care what you think about my people, or my methods, or my choice of recruits. I'm on your turf here, I will show you respect, and you in turn will respect me."
The very air seemed to freeze in fear for a moment, as though even inanimate atmosphere was cowed by a voice like that. But Winry continued as though the moment hadn't happened, "Scar and Envy...I don't care what you say they've done, what you tell me about their unreliability or their turncoat tendencies or whatever else you try to dredge up. I trust them. Enough to know that they'll split before they snap. If it gets too much for them...they'll leave. They know the door is open and they'll walk through it if they need to."
"Forgive me for saying," Riza began hesitantly, still slightly shaken by the tone Winry's voice had taken for those few seconds. "But we were just concerned...it just seems so...incomprehensible...for either Scar or Envy to pledge their loyalty to anyone..."
Winry laughed. "Envy actually isn't as much of a mystery as you might think. You know that big battle, the one that wiped out the rest of the homunculi and Father?"
Everyone nodded.
"Well, something happened to Envy's Philosopher's Stone during that battle. I'm no alchemist, so I don't know the details of what actually happened, all I can tell you is the results. And the results are these...Envy can't really be called a homunculus anymore."
"What?" Ed exploded, but Winry shot him a look so reminiscent of the traditional 'you have trashed my automail again and if you try to say one more word in your defense I will make you nothing but a tiny blonde memory' glare that his mouth snapped shut on reflex.
"I mean," the blonde Commander continued, "He can't change shape anymore – he's stuck in that form. He's still incredibly strong and amazingly fast but he doesn't regenerate as quickly as he used to...he can recover from most blows, but...well, it's my opinion that a fatal one – instead of forcing him to regenerate around his Philosopher's Stone – will actually kill him. And he has the same needs a human does now; eating, sleeping, that kind of thing."
It seemed mind-boggling to Ed. If Envy was no longer a homunculus, then what was he? But he supposed that was why Winry had practically ordered him to go to sleep last night.
"So why does he follow you?" Al asked.
"We've met him before," Ed elaborated, "And he was a-"
"Jerk!" Al cut in, before his brother could say something ruder.
"Well, that part's a bit dicey," Winry admitted. "It took me a while to figure things out, but...has anyone wondered why the homunculi took Father's orders so complacently? And why they cooperated with each other when some of them seem to despise the others?"
Winry paused, gathering her thoughts. "The way I figure, when Father made the homunculi, he made them with the mentality of a wolf-pack. He's the 'alpha', the strongest, so they follow him without question. And the others are their 'pack-mates', so to speak, so they work with them, despite any differences of opinion they may have. I mean, I know Greed struck out on his own, but he was an exception."
"So when he came across you...those instincts just...transferred to you?" Al hazarded, wondering how Winry knew about the first Greed. But then, Envy had probably told her.
"Not quite. After the battle, Envy was in pretty bad shape. Wasn't sure what to do with himself without his 'pack'. Eventually, he wandered into Rush Valley. I was on patrol, and I thought he was an enemy scout. We got into a fight. And when I managed to beat him...I somehow replaced Father at the top of the food chain. In Envy's mind, I'm the 'alpha' now, and the rest of the Resistance is his 'pack'. We give him focus, we give him purpose, we give him a reason to live. He's not about to throw that away."
"And Scar?" Roy asked, remembering the man he'd confronted in a rainy street so many years ago. That didn't seem like a man who would take anyone's commands.
"Scar?" Winry shrugged. "Who really knows with that guy? One of my people from the prison camps, Travis Burns, used to be a State Alchemist, and while we were scouting some new territory, Scar attacked us. I told Travis to run back to headquarters and get back-up while I kept him occupied."
Ed was sure his jaw had disengaged. He'd fought against Scar himself, and knew it was no simple task. He could practically feel everyone's astonishment, a shift in the currents of air in the room as everyone inhaled sharply in surprise.
"You kept Scar occupied?" Al echoed faintly.
Winry nodded calmly, as though this was nothing special. "Took a lot out of me, too. Eventually, I managed to pin him-"
More noises of shock. Anyone who had seen Scar and Winry's relative size could understand how unbelievable it was for Winry to have pinned him.
"-And then I yelled at him." Winry shook her head, as though amazed at her own daring. "Can you believe it? God knows what I was thinking...but I yelled about how we were all in the same boat now, and he should be struggling against the H-Faction instead of hunting down those alchemists who were trying to do some good. Or something like that. Adrenaline kinda hazes the memory. But whatever I said, it must have had a real impact, because he came back to headquarters with me. And the rest, as they say, is history. But he's vowed himself to my cause – and whatever his faults, he's a man with honour; he won't go back on his word."
Winry looked around the room slowly, taking care to meet each person's eyes. "Do you understand what I'm saying? They've killed for me. I've killed for them. That's not a bond you just toss aside."
Ed flinched. Logically, he knew that as a Commander of an army in a war zone, Winry would have killed. But to hear her say it so baldly, so plainly...
"So what you're saying," Roy said slowly, "Is that while Scar and Envy will never follow us, they will follow you, correct?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Because they respect me in a way that they will never respect you." Winry suddenly raised her voice, "And now that this discussion is finished, you guys outside needn't bother eavesdropping."
Everyone started, but Winry was proved correct when the door opened to admit Scar and Envy. Scar looking impassive, as usual, and Envy looking almost...embarrassed?
"We didn't mean to, boss," Envy tried.
Winry huffed a sigh. "Yes, you did. I know you could care less about what they think-" she gestured to the others around her "-so why did you follow me?"
"To protect you," Scar stated, as if it were obvious.
The expression on Winry's face was one of weary fondness – as though she had heard this many times. "Scar...I know these people. I trust them. They're not going to kill me."
"A warrior can never be sure where the enemy lurks. Kick an anthill over, and many still hide in the sand."
"Does what you say make any sense to you at all? Or do you just throw some words together and hope it makes you sound deep and philosophical?"
Again, the twitch at the side of Scar's mouth, as though he were hiding a smile.
"It doesn't really matter anyway," Winry shook her head. "I've said my piece. You can stay to say yours if you want, but I'm going back to bed."
She walked straight out without further comment.
Ed half-expected Scar and Envy to follow her, but at the same time he was not really surprised when they remained. Their presence made him feel slightly claustrophobic; the instinctive prickle of fear he felt with them had been, until now, always soothed by Winry's presence. As though without Winry to rein them in, there was nothing to stop them abandoning their vows and initiating wholesale slaughter.
A foolish thought, he knew, but fear was instinctual and did not listen to reason.
"We're not going to turn on the boss," Envy said bluntly.
"Why should we believe you," Ed shot back, anger flaring. "Does she even know what you're responsible for? What you've done?"
"Vharla is fully aware of all our past actions...and their consequences," Scar said softly.
"Vharla?" Fuery murmured.
"An Ishbalan word," Scar explained. "The title given to a warrior who assumes leadership in times of war or hardship."
"If Winry is fully aware of everything you've done...what could have possible motivated her to offer you a place in the Resistance, instead of killing you?" Riza asked.
Envy shrugged. "Who knows why the boss does what she does? You'll have to ask her. But this I do know," he said, his voice suddenly turning serious. "When I met her, I was practically dead on my feet. Didn't understand what I had to do to keep a mostly-human body functioning...so when she took me in, she was the one who'd remind me to eat, to drink, to sleep...she was the one who practically put me back together. She had more reason to see me dead than keep me alive, but keep me alive was what she did. More than once."
Envy's jaw clenched slightly, his eyes unreadable. "I don't care what you say I've done or what you think I'm going to do, I'm not going to turn on the boss."
Then he left. No words of dismissal or farewell, he just walked out.
Scar's lips twitched once more. "Vharla has a way of gaining absolute loyalty, even if she doesn't ask for it."
"What's your story?" Roy's voice was low, but his eyes were almost accusing. "Why do you follow her?"
Scar's eyes flashed. "I follow her because she is what a leader should be. A leader who is the first to rise in the morning and the last to go to sleep at night. A leader who is the first to work and the last to eat. A leader who cares less for her plans and visions than for the people in them."
"She saved your life, too," Al realised.
"There is no man, woman or child in the Resistance whose life Vharla hasn't saved in one form or another," Scar said flatly. "But yes, she saved my life. There was a surprise attack by the H-Faction and I sustained serious injuries. I told Vharla to leave me to die. She refused. She pulled me to my feet and dragged me behind an outcropping of rocks. The last thing I remember is her shouting for help. When I awoke I was on a stretcher, being conveyed back to Resistance's medical facility. Vharla was on a stretcher beside me, badly injured...and her hand was still fisted in my shirt."
Scar was silent for several moments. "I am a warrior...a warrior with honour. I have pledged myself to her and her cause, and I shall not go back on my word."
Then he was gone. Breda, who had been silent until this point, laughed, shook his head and followed his comrade.
Ed stared after them, struck mute with shock.
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AN: As per usual, LaughingAstarael was my wonderful beta.