Chapter 10

Departure

"What's this?" Envy asked, regarding the block of chocolate with undisguised suspicion.

It occurred to Ed that – as Envy had only started eating when he joined the Resistance, and taking into account the Resistance was fighting on the front lines and would have had no time for luxuries like sweets – Envy had no experience with things like chocolate.

"This is chocolate," Winry told him, dividing the block between Ed, Al, Paninya, Scar, Envy and herself. They were sitting around a cafeteria table, having just eaten breakfast. Winry had swiped the block of chocolate from the kitchen store.

"It tastes very nice," Winry added. "But it's not very good for you, so don't eat too much."

"I'm not a kid," Envy growled, sounding very similar to a sulking schoolboy.

"Didn't say you were, I was just telling you that's it's not particularly healthy."

But Envy taken a bite from his piece, and Ed could see Winry's words barely registered as chocolate touched his tongue for the first time. Purple eyes widened in surprise, then Envy began to devour the chocolate in a whirlwind of motion.

"Don't eat so fast!" Winry snapped, yanking his hand away from his mouth. "You'll be sick!"

For a moment, she looked so much like a mother scolding her child (complete with Envy's scowl and reluctant obedience) that Ed was hard-pressed to keep from laughing out loud.

"This is good!" Envy murmured indistinctly around a mouthful of chocolate. "Really good...what's in this?"

"It's a dairy product," Paninya explained.

"No kidding? Doesn't taste at all like milk or cheese..."

Winry smiled and wandered a small distance away, nibbling on her piece of chocolate with more moderation than Envy. The cafeteria didn't boast much of a view, but as she sat on the windowsill and stared out at the sky, it wasn't the view Winry was interested in. She just needed to sit apart from those across the room for a moment, just to gather herself...

"Are you okay?"

Winry didn't startle – her sharp ears had already alerted her to Ed and Al's approach. The younger Elric's footsteps were not accompanied by the sound of clanking metal as they once would have been – it was one of those things that just struck her out of nowhere to remind her Al was back in his body and cause a smile to hover on her face.

"I'm fine," she said, one arm rising to rest on her bent leg. "Just thinking."

"No, I mean..." Al looked uncomfortable. "Are you okay with...with what happened yesterday?"

Winry stiffened, Hira's face flashing before her eyes. Being hurled towards him from the prisoner transport truck...strapped to a table as he prepared to tattoo the circle on her chest...smiling as he gave her an order of assassination...and finally, towering over him as he cowered in the dirt.

Hira had been a long-nursed terror, a spectre in her nightmares, a private bogeyman...and then, to see him like that...it was almost a let-down. He wasn't a monster, he wasn't some hideous being of unspeakable evil...he was just a twisted, cowardly man.

"I'm a little shaken," Winry admitted. "I could have killed him...I wanted to...but I didn't. I think that proves, more than anything, that I can get past this. That my memories don't rule me. I mean, they say our experiences makes us who we are, but I don't believe that. It's how we react to our experiences that makes us who we are. I can try to move on...or I can curl up and die. And I'm going to move on."

In that charged moment, Ed didn't trust himself to speak. Once again, he found himself in awe of Winry's strength and courage.

"And by the way," Winry continued, turning towards them. "Thank you...for letting me collapse on you that day. I think...I think I'd been holding that in for a while. It helped...to tell someone, you know?"

Then, to the surprise of both brothers, Winry reached out, looped an arm around each of their necks and hugged them tightly. They returned the embrace readily, but were surprised again when Winry laughed.

"What's funny?" Ed asked.

"Nothing much," Winry giggled. "Just wondering...five years ago...did you ever think we'd end up like this?"

"Not really," Ed said ruefully.

"I didn't either...but I think it's okay anyway."

oooooooo

When Winry next strode from the negotiations room, her expression was exultant. She looked ecstatic, flushed with triumph as a broad grin stretched her lips.

"They believe me!" Winry laughed. "Finally, they believe me! The Resistance and the Dissidents are going to cooperate fully, and I'll leave with a whole train of supply trucks."

She seemed so happy that Ed's spirits lifted as hers did, but he still couldn't help the slight pang that struck somewhere in his chest at the thought of Winry leaving. But she had a duty, a responsibility that was more important that anything he might say to try to sway her...

For the first time, he thought he understood why Winry had been crying when he and Al burned their house down. They had been forced to leave her behind, to go where she couldn't follow...

But this time, wasn't it possible that he and Al could follow her?

oooooooo

"Breda?"

The redhead turned at the sound of his name, easily spotting Winry walking towards him down the corridor. "Something you need, Commander?"

"I take it you heard the good news?"

Breda nodded. Negotiations were over, which meant they'd be returning to Rush Valley soon. It was disappointing – to spend so little time with his friends after so many years of separation – but if Winry needed him back in Rush Valley, he would follow her back there willingly.

"Do you know Major General Mustang has allowed Ed and Al to come with us? He says it's a good will gesture, something that's meant to show the Dissidents are serious about cooperating with the Resistance," she said, grinning. "But I think he just made that up to give Ed and Al an excuse to follow me."

Breda snorted a light laugh.

"But what I was wondering," Winry continued, "is whether or not you'd like to stay here?"

Breda blinked. He hadn't expected that. While some part of him wanted to say yes, his sense of honour compelled him to say, "I don't want to abandon you."

"That's not what I asked you," Winry observed in a level voice. "It's quite simple; do you want to stay, or not?"

"Well, a lot of my friends are here," Breda admitted. "And after the war, I'd really like to..."

Winry laughed again. "Then you should stay. We can call it an equal good will gesture – show we're just as serious as about the alliance as the Dissidents are."

The twinkle in her eye betrayed her serious words. She knew Breda had wanted to stay, and felt she owed it to him to give him what he wanted. With the Resistance soon to be disbanded (as soon as the remnants of H-Faction were dealt with), she saw no real need to keep him bound to her.

And most of all, she understood the burning desire to be with friends you hadn't seen in years.

oooooooo

They departed early, when the rising sun was just beginning to clear the horizon. While Ed grumbled and insisted that it was 'an ungodly hour to be awake', Winry could tell he and Al were pleased to be going with her.

It was certainly a change from the days when he and Al would return for repairs then leave as soon as possible. But Winry understood that, like her, they hadn't wanted to leave. But their duty – their quest – had forced them to, as her responsibilities as Commander forced her to now.

Ironic that when their quest ended, hers had already begun.

Winry clasped Armstrong's wrist in the age-old gesture of both greeting and farewell between soldiers. Traditionally showing respect and a certain amount of familiarity, she repeated the gesture with Fuery.

But when she clasped Riza's arm, she took the opportunity to pull the older woman aside. Just a small distance, just enough so they wouldn't be overheard. Winry had been watching Riza during her stay, and a sneaking suspicion had long been forming in her mind.

She didn't waste time. "It happened to you, didn't it?"

Riza's throat tightened. She didn't know what she had expected when Winry took her aside, but it wasn't this. But Winry couldn't know...could she?

Riza decided to play dumb. "What happened to me?"

"The same thing that happened to me."

For a moment, Riza was certain she had misheard. Winry...Winry couldn't have meant...

But the hard glint in Winry's eyes told Riza she had understood the younger girl perfectly. The most prevalent emotion shaking her usually-calm demeanour was astonishment – that this woman in front of her could have endured what she had endured. To look at Winry, no one would ever think something like that could ever have happened to her...

But some part of Riza also felt relieved. The women like her, the ones she'd seen in the camps, had always been scared, shadowed, haunted...broken. Since her escape, she'd never met one who had moved past it. Riza herself was the only person she knew of who was so much as functioning, and it was a relief to see Winry, who had suffered as she had suffered, not only functioning but thriving.

"How?"

Winry didn't need to ask what she was talking about it. "Don't be fooled, I'm not entirely over it. I cried my eyes out in Ed and Al's arms the other day. The trick is, never think you'll forget it. You won't. Don't think you can be like you were before it happened. You can't. But you do learn to live with it, to live through and past it. Eventually, it's just a shadow in the back of your mind. It won't leave, not really, but it will fade."

"I had help, too," Winry admitted. "My friends helped me. Being the Resistance Commander, I had to interact with a lot of people, even when I just wanted to crawl under some blankets somewhere and hide. And that helped – forcing myself to be with people, to talk with them and argue with them and just be with them – made the wound fade a little. Friends and comrades help by just being there, being there and being themselves."

Five seconds of silence. Winry's eyes looked as ancient as if she had lived a thousand centuries, and in a sense, Riza supposed it was true. Winry had changed so much, been so many people over the years...a thousand lives in the space of a single lifetime.

"Paninya...was always there for me," Winry said softly. "Supporting me, backing me up...giving me confidence and reassurance. Breda was always cheering me up with his good humour, Scar and his warrior code showed me I still deserved to be treated with honour and respect, and Envy...his playful flirtations showed me I was still desirable, I wasn't tainted. And he was...safe, you know? I knew that if I ever told him to stop – really, stop – he would."

Riza seemed to be digesting her words, and Winry couldn't help adding another recommendation. Perhaps it was her feminine side – weren't all women supposed to be instinctive matchmakers?

"You should talk to Roy. He probably feels very guilty about it."

Riza started, testament to how deep the reverie she'd sunk into had been. "Guilty? But why would he-?"

"Your friends always feel guilty for it," Winry told her. "It's ridiculous, but it's what they feel."

Then, with a smile and a soft brush of fingers over Riza's hand, Winry stepped away.

She shook hands with Roy with an air of formality.

"It's been an...interesting experience," Roy said diplomatically, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Likewise," Winry laughed, her gaze flickering to Riza. She was pleased to note Roy's eyes following the path hers had already taken, lingering on the blonde woman with an air of yearning.

Winry deliberately lowered her voice so they wouldn't be heard amid the tumult of loud farewells around them. "It wasn't your fault."

Roy's eyes swung to her again, puzzlement clear in their obsidian irises. "Wha-?"

"You aren't to blame for what happened," Winry said. "What happened, happened, and you can't change it. What you can change is how it affects her, how you help her."

She made sure to make her voice as serious as possible when she told him, "Talk to Riza."

Then she released his hand and turned to Breda, the only one she hadn't farewelled. He didn't reach for her hand, but instead swept her up into a hug reminiscent of Armstrong's powerful embraces. Winry controlled the urge to flinch away and instead returned the gesture. Touched as Winry was by this uncharacteristic show of affection, though, the need for oxygen asserted itself and disrupted the moment.

"Breda..." she wheezed, "I need some of those ribs you're cracking."

Breda released her instantly, blushing lightly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. At least someone around here appreciates me," Winry laughed.

"I appreciate you plenty, Pidgeon," Envy leered from behind them.

"Do you ever miss an opportunity for innuendo?" Winry snapped. "This is a touching farewell here, so butt out!"

Envy snorted and turned away. Breda chuckled in spite of himself.

"Look after yourself, Winry."

"You, too," Winry said, then added with a touch of both mischief and affection, "Consider it my final order."

Breda slapped his open palm against the left side of his chest. "Understood, Commander!"

He held the salute until Winry returned it, then relaxed.

And then Winry climbed into the truck, the engine started, and with a rumble and a roar, Winry, Ed, Al, Paninya, Envy and Scar were gone – disappearing into the dawn at the head of a long convoy of supply trucks.

oooooooo

Roy and Riza were so caught up in their own thoughts they never realised that the people around them were leaving. Like smoke in the wind, the crowd in the courtyard slowly dispersed, vanishing into the buildings around them.

When their surroundings finally filtered through their well of concentration, it was with the startling realisation that they were alone. Together.

Riza stared at Roy. He fidgeted under her gaze, as though he were waiting for some sort of dismissal before he could leave, even though he was the superior officer.

'Talk to him.'

Winry's advice hummed through her head, as annoyingly persistent as a mosquito buzzing near her ear. Some part of Riza wanted to ignore it, to go on as she had before...but another part of her longed for Winry's easy, confident bearing – as though no one could doubt her, as though she had never been abused and violated. Riza remembered when she was like that. She wanted to be like that again.

'Talk to him.'

What could it hurt?

"She was raped, too, you know?"

Riza's tone was so conversational that her actual sentence didn't register with Roy at first. When it did, his heart kicked against his ribs like an angry horse.

It was the first time either of them had actually admitted what happened to her. There was always the sense that as long as they never said it, never named it, then it wasn't real. But Riza had named it, named the terror and called it down on their heads.

Roy's mouth moved, but no sound emerged.

"You'd never know, would you?" Riza continued, her tone thoughtful. "She's trying to work through it. It's inspiring, in a way."

Roy was still trying to get his tongue to work.

"She gave me advice – good advice, I think. And she also mentioned something interesting...she said that you might be feeling guilty about what happened."

Roy couldn't help thinking it was so typically Riza; having the guts to face the problem head-on while he was still dithering about it.

"So...do you?" Riza asked, looking directly at him. "Feel guilty?"

His first impulse was to lie. But while he often made a habit of dishonesty, he'd never been able to truly lie to Riza's face.

"Of course I feel guilty," he said flatly. He just needed to make sure his voice stayed level and his tone stayed flat...even if his voice felt as brittle as a dry cracker. "It was my fault, I sent you there..."

Fury; unreasoning, illogical, savage fury welled in Riza, flooding her body like a wave after a dam had burst. She was suddenly, inexplicably angry that he would feel this way, that he would wallow in his own guilt, that he would entertain for even a moment the idea that it was his fault...

'The way I did...' Riza's thoughts whispered to her. 'The way I did, the way I blamed myself. If I had only been stronger, smarter, faster...then they would never have...'

She had slapped him before she truly realised what she was doing. On some level that was frightening to Riza – to lose control like that. Control is the primary facet of a sniper's existence; to see the target, to watch for an opening, to see the opening and take it when the order is given...

But perhaps that was the point. She wasn't Riza the sniper here, she was Riza the woman, who had just learned the man she loved felt guilty for her rape.

So she didn't apologise for the slap.

"It was not your fault!" she hissed, her voice low but with as much urgency as a scream. "I knew the risks, I knew what happened to captured women, I knew...and I still chose to go along. I still chose to get involved. I still chose..."

Her throat was closed off, choked with memories, memories of fear, desperation and horrific, tearing pain. She could feel the slight sting of tears in her eyes and sat down heavily on the steps, swallowing in an effort to keep herself under control.

Funny...five years ago, she couldn't imagine doing anything like this. But now...how many nights had she woken from a nightmare, screaming in silence, and ended up shedding tears into Black Hayate's fur?

Roy stared at her, at the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, at the way her throat worked as she tried desperately to maintain control and wondered if he had ever loved her quite so much or quite so deeply.

He lowered himself beside Riza and watched her struggle with herself. He started to reach out to her, then he remembered and his hand stuttered in the air. Steeling himself for rejection, he rested his hand on her shoulder, his fingers moving in small circles against the fabric of her jacket.

Riza didn't flinch or back away or throw his hand off. For a moment, she didn't do anything. Then her hand rose and closed around his. Roy expected her to gently move his hand away, to politely and coolly decline his offer of comfort...but she didn't. She just held his hand on her shoulder, her thumb running across the back of his hand.

It wasn't exactly a lover's embrace...but it was enough.

"It never really ended with the Ishbal war, did it?" Roy mused.

Riza met his eyes, moisture still gleaming beneath her eyelashes. "No, it didn't."

It wasn't exactly a declaration of undying love and devotion...but it was enough.

oooooooo

AN: As always, the smooth reading and lack of grammatical errors can be credited to LaughingAstarael.