Chapter 9

Revelations

"She's changed," Riza said simply. "I don't think I actually realised how much until..."

"Until today," Roy finished.

The journey back to Central had been made in silence, no Dissident capable of meeting Winry's eyes. It seemed almost incomprehensible that the sunny mechanic who had so often breezed through Central's headquarters on a mission to repair Ed's automail could be the same Commander who had calmly suggested killing a man in cold blood.

"Armstrong, you knew her best," Fuery said at last. "Did you ever think...?"

Armstrong shook his head. "I knew Winry as an innocent girl who was passionate about automail. I didn't recognise the woman I saw today."

All were silent for several moments, in the acknowledgment that the Winry Rockbell they had seen a few hours ago had definitely not been an innocent girl. She had been a warrior, a soldier forged in the flames of war and tempered with the steel of battle.

Roy remembered the tattoo seared onto Winry's chest like a brand, the lines and symbols of the circle mute testimony to what she had suffered. He remembered her icy calm during the raid, the cool distance of a fighter used to life or death situations to the point where their body can ignore the thrumming of adrenaline in favour of clear thought and decisive action.

"I should have seen this," he found himself saying.

Riza shook her head. "Don't blame yourself. We all saw that she had changed-"

"You didn't see her with the other Dissident officials," Roy laughed bitterly. "When she steps into that room...her whole bearing changes. She stands tall and straight, she radiates dignity and confidence – a charismatic Commander whose word is her bond, someone who could lead an army larger than ours even though she's only a single voice to our many...I was foolish to be taken in by her cheerful, careless mask."

"I knew Breda respected her," Fuery said quietly. "When we went drinking...it was the way he talked about her. I could tell he was as loyal to her as he was to you, Major General. And it takes a lot to get Breda's true loyalty."

"She was such a charming girl..." Armstrong muttered sadly. "All smiles and sunshine...completely obsessed with automail, of course..."

"I haven't seen her so much as touch a wrench," Riza added. "But I suppose that, as the Commander, she has too much to do."

Amstrong frowned. "I would have thought her love of mechanics would never fade."

"I doubt it has," Riza said, shrugging. "But as Commander, her duties take precedence over her desires. The needs of her people are more important that what she wants for herself."

"Only a true leader thinks and feels that way," Roy mused.

For a moment, he wondered if such qualities in Winry were a product of the war. Or had they always been within her, a small seed of greatness, that the war had simply allowed to grow to full potential?

oooooooo

Ed was still shaken by the day's events as he rolled in his bed and tried to get some sleep. He suspected everyone was shaken – Roy, Riza, Fuery and Armstrong had all been struck dumb by Winry's revelation, and had been sneaking glances at her under the lids of their eyes on the journey back.

But it wasn't Winry's revelation that had shocked him. It was her casual suggestion of torture that had him so astounded.

"Envy, break him in half."

Though after everything she had told him of her ordeal, he wondered why he found it so astonishing. In dealing with captured H-Faction troops who were unwilling to part with their information, Winry would have been forced to employ torture at some point, probably learning from the very techniques the H-Faction had used on her.

But there was knowing and then there was knowing – knowing in the intellectual sense and knowing in the sense of seeing your oldest friend ordering a man's spine to be snapped in two.

Ed had the feeling this was spelling another sleepless night for him, and Al made no acknowledgment when his brother rose and left their room.

oooooooo

Ed wondered if this would get to be a habit – this midnight walking he seemed to have developed since Winry and the others came to Central.

Ed wasn't paying attention to where his feet were carrying him, so it was with no real surprise he found himself in the cafeteria. What surprised him was the person he found there.

Envy was sitting at one of the tables, casually consuming a sandwich as though he had every right in the world to be there. It was one of those things that were so unexpected – as out of place as a fish riding a bicycle – that they made you stop and stare.

Envy's eyes rose to his. "Something you want, Fullmetal?"

Ed wondered if the slighty sarcastic tone was a permanent feature of Envy's voice. He knew Envy had never addressed him – or anyone else, for that matter – in any other way, though he tended to use a more moderate tone when speaking with Winry.

Ed shook his head. "I don't want anything."

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"Why are you here?" Ed retorted. It irked him that his former foe could reduce him to this kind of immature comeback – it felt like he was in kindergarten again, standing up to a playground bully.

"I'm eating," Envy smirked. "Boss introduced me to the concept of a midnight snack."

"What you ate at dinner wasn't enough?" Ed muttered, unable to resist a subtle needling. Envy had eaten more than anyone else, and considering he and Al were at the table that was saying a lot.

Envy shrugged affably. "I have a big appetite, so what? Probably making up for all those years I didn't eat."

Ed just stared at him.

Envy scowled. "What's bitten you?"

Almost against his will, Ed found himself sliding into the chair opposite Envy. "Would Winry really let you...you know...?"

"Put that guy in a wheelchair?" Envy grinned. "Don't look so surprised, Fullmetal. Your little mechanic ain't so little anymore. She grew up, grew fangs and claws – sharp ones, too – and a serious set of brass balls."

"I second that!" came a voice from behind Ed.

He turned. Paninya was leaning against the door jamb, laughing softly.

"You're up, too?" Envy said, snorting. "Regular party."

"Couldn't sleep, came to grab a drink," Paninya said succinctly, ambling into the cafeteria and pouring herself some water.

"I heard what you said," she continued, sliding into the seat next to Envy. "And while I can understand where you're coming from...you have to understand that Winry does what's necessary. She's changed, Ed. She's not a household tabby having hissy fits anymore...she's a tiger that stalks with the intent to kill. And it's not surprising, considering what she's been through."

"You know?" Ed asked, his head tilting to one side as he regarded the dark-haired girl.

"Everyone in Winry's 'inner circle' knows, so to speak," she shrugged. "Me, Scar, Breda, Envy here-" she nudged the green-haired man. "I mean...I saw her when she first came back to Rush Valley. She was...she was in awful shape."

Paninya's voice had gone very quiet, and her eyes looked slightly unfocused as though she were looking back through her memories, looking back through time, to the day when Winry and her army drove the H-Faction out of Rush Valley.

"She rallied her army, forced the H-Faction out, and then practically collapsed. The wound in her chest had opened again and was bleeding on and off. The sternum itself had been cracked – the shrapnel had gone that deep – and there were pieces of metal still embedded in her skin."

Paninya shook her head. "And she'd crossed miles of H-Faction territory and fought a battle with those injuries! Normal people don't do things like that."

She sighed heavily. "I'll never understand how she did it. I always knew Winry was something special, but it was then I knew she was the kind of special they write about in the history books. The kind of special that changes the world."

"That was also the day I knew I wanted to go alone for the ride," she laughed. "And not just because she was going to make history. Because I thought – after what she'd been through – she'd need all the help she could get. And I wanted to be that help."

Another laugh. "I even persuaded her to give me some training in mechanics – to take the weight off her shoulders, you know? So she didn't have to be the Resistance's mechanic on top of being its leader. I mean, it wasn't easy – Winry has a real gift for mechanics, it's practically instinctive, and filling those shoes was a lot of work. I still have to ask her for help if I'm dealing with a particularly knotty machine. But I know I'm making it easier for her, so-"

Envy smirked, and Paninya rounded on him. "You think it's funny?"

"Just reflecting on how boss has a way of tugging at heartstrings you didn't know you had," Envy said honestly.

"What's your story?" Ed snorted with a bit more heat than he really meant to. Old habits were hard to break.

"Me?" Envy shrugged. "What can I say? When she took me in, I was determined to use her and lose her – stick around long enough to get back on my feet, then I'd be gone. But then...then I found myself actually wanting to talk to her, to sit with her, found myself liking the fact that I was under her command. Can you believe that? I actually liked following her orders...because I knew she was looking after me."

To Ed's surprise, a strange light came into Envy's eyes, and his face was softened by true affection. "Because that's what she does, you know? We – that is, the people who follow her...our wellbeing comes before everything else. That's just how she works. I mean, she stomps the H-Faction, too," Envy added. "She does a lot of that."

In a sudden flash of understanding, Ed realised why Winry had broken down with he and Al, and why she couldn't let go like that with the people who followed her. No matter how much she trusted them, no matter how much they knew about what had happened to her...she was their leader. And to preserve their peace of mind, she needed to appear calm, collected and above all, in control.

The story of Winry's life – always for others, never for herself.

oooooooo

When Ed headed back, he deliberately took the route that would take him past the room that housed the members of the Resistance. Winry's room.

Breda was standing guard and Ed would place money Scar had suggested it. The redhead turned as Ed drew nearer, his eyes carefully blank.

"Judging by your lack of reaction when our Commander revealed her tattoos, I assume you already know what happened to her?" Breda asked.

"I know," Ed admitted. "Al does, too."

Breda nodded. "It was only a matter of time. After all, you can't know the new Winry without knowing what changed her."

For a moment, Ed wondered how Breda could understand that. Then he reminded himself that Breda had only recently reunited with his old comrades, so he would certainly know what it was like to have a friend become a stranger.

Ed mused on how easy it was to write Breda off as a muscle-bound idiot with no brain to speak of. But such a thought couldn't be farther from the truth – Breda was one of the most cunning men Ed had ever met, with a knack for seeing more than people thought.

"In some ways, what happened to her made her a better leader," Breda reflected. "It meant she could sympathise with brutalised prisoners – meant she could know that what they wanted above all else was a safe place. Meant she could talk to people who might not have looked twice at her otherwise. But in other ways...well, it hardly did her mental health any favours, stopped her from seeking 'comfort', among other things..."

Ed's brow furrowed. "I don't understand. 'Seeking comfort'?"

Breda looked slightly uncomfortable. "On the battlefield, you want to remember that you're not just a killing machine. That the touch of your hands can bring pleasure, not just pain. You'll find on the battlefield, many comrades will 'help' each other rediscover that."

Ed's confusion only deepened.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Breda said, exasperated. "Having sex, making love, fucking, rutting...whatever you want to call it, that's what they do. Remember Travis Burns? He and Paninya 'helped' each other. A woman called Lily 'helped' me. Hell, Mustang and Hawkeye 'helped' each other during the Ishbal war."

Ed blinked, trying to resist the graphic images suddenly springing to life in his head. "Mustang and Hawkeye? But then why is there still so much...tension...between them?"

"They kid themselves it ended when the Ishbal war ended," Breda snorted. "Like we're stupid or something. When they're around each other, they practically ooze undying devotion."

Ed laughed. They did, at that. There had been a reason Wrath chose Riza as his hostage, after all.

Still, it was strange to think of people like Paninya and Breda doing things like that. Breda had said most people fighting on the front lines needed such an outlet, but Ed just couldn't comprehend it – he couldn't understand how anyone could be that cold, that business-like about sex.

Some small, selfish part of him was glad Winry had never sought 'comfort', as Breda had put it. Ed told himself firmly he shouldn't be thinking like that – it was petty and jealous. If anything, he should be saddened by the news she had never engaged in such activities – it showed how deeply the memory of her rape still affected her. On the other hand, he didn't think it would have really helped Winry any for her first experience with consensual sex to be...something like that.

When he finally went back to his bed Ed couldn't help but think that, after those conversations, it would be even longer before he fell asleep.

oooooooo

AN: As always, this chapter is free of stupid mistakes and OOC-ness by the grace of LaughingAstarael, my wonderful beta.