5 Second Countdown
by. Poisoned Scarlet

03: Endurance

03 days, 04 hours, 03 seconds ago

She was spitting blood, as her granny would say.

She had lost weight in those few days and it was obvious that they were starving them. They would eat in front of them and laugh when they saw the primitive spark in their eyes that yearned for supplement. They splashed cold water all over them with hoses sporadically, watching as some of them desperately licked the liquid to ease their parched throats.

But mostly it served as a torture method.

One of them had already succumbed to the icy waters and was stinking up the entire cell; the smell wafting into other cells. The stench was starting to become unbearable, as the body began to decompose. The cold was helping stunt the decomposing process but that didn't mean that the body had stopped rotting completely.

They didn't bother to remove the body.

That was probably because the smell was a warning to them all that if any one of them tried anything, that would ultimately be their fate.

Winry didn't even try to act out in rebellion. Her body felt too weak and cold. She felt utterly helpless.

She hated it.

Sometimes her muscles would give out on her early and the men would try to undo her blue trousers but Melanie would always fend them off for her, screeching and biting and punching until they let her go or tried to fight back and forgot about Winry.

Winry felt it was a miracle that the female officer that often checked up on them had absolutely no tolerance for rape. She said, coldly, that mating with Amestrian filth was an insult to her people and that the men should have more dignity than to fuck things like them.

Winry didn't really let the scathing words get to her. As long as no one touched her, as along as she could retain this last shred of innocence, she didn't care. Their words would became a distant memory soon enough, right? Just like everything else...

However, that female officer had no qualms in watching them get abused, battered, or tortured, by the male soldiers for 'information gathering', as they liked to call it. There was nothing informative about what they did, especially when they did it in the cells and everyone could hear the howls of anguish as they were beat again and again and again...

Melanie had, luckily, survived the freezing walk with her to this jail unlike others who had succumbed to the cold and were left to die when they saw they really couldn't go on anymore. She hovered close to Winry, not letting her stray too far from sight when they transferred them to different cells as they received more and more prisoners.

During the time spent in their semi-permanent, eight by twelve, cell, Melanie had been taken out a lot to get 'interrogated' and she often came back with new bruises on her body, a haunted look in her eyes, and an empty smile that twisted Winry's heart every time she saw it.

Somehow, Winry knew the woman was protecting her from more than just severe beatings.

It made Winry sick just thinking about what the woman had bargained for in order for her to retain her dignity.

"I promise you," she had said, that day that seemed so long ago now, and Winry hoped, really, truly, hoped, that it was not what she knew it was.

I won't let her go, not this time, she thought, determinedly. She side-glanced Melanie, who sat a few feet beside her; knee's drawn up to her chest to conserve heat. She could barely see her but there was enough light to warn Winry that she was most likely resting her eyes.

Melanie didn't really sleep.

The door creaked open, a light blinding her.

"You, come!" a soldier snapped, beckoning Melanie with his finger. The woman jerked awake automatically. "Now!"

This was it.

She grabbed Melanie's hand and pulled her down when she stood up.

"No—Win—"

"What do you want with her!" Winry yelled, her voice rough from disuse. She stood up on weak legs, pushing Melanie behind her to keep her face from that man's sneering face. "Answer me! What do you want with her?"

The soldier snarled and marched forward, his hand striking her cheek brutally without a seconds hesitation. "Don't you dare raise your voice at me, you filth!" he sneered, teeth bared. "It is none of your business what I want this whore for!"

But he had said it all.

N-no way, Winry shakily thought, tightening her hold on Melanie's hand. The words caught in her throat. They really are...?

Winry sent Melanie a despaired look.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Winry," the woman smiled kindly, painfully. "You remind me too much of my own daughter. I wouldn't be able to bear it if... if they abused you like this."

"But w-why?" Her voice cracked, as she sobbed out her words: "How come you're taking all of this? You don't have to protect me, the-the commander said that they couldn't—"

"Oh, Winry, do you actually think they listen to her?" Melanie interrupted her, as the Drachmian soldier chuckled coldly. "You don't know the types of things they do to girls like you. I'm old, Winry. I'm already fifty three. I've lived my fair share but you... you haven't. I don't want you to carry scars like these for the rest of your life."

"B-but..." She never felt so useless, so hopeless, as she did in that moment. "Why?"

Melanie smiled, exhaustedly. "I promised, didn't I?"

She felt her heart crack right down the middle. Promises...she knew all about promises. She had been promised a lot during her years. Edward was mostly the one who made promises with her. He promised to never make her cry again; he promised he wouldn't try to bang up her automail too badly; he promised...to always protect her...

"Be grateful, girl," the soldier told her, voice casual. "Accept and move on; she is doing this for you and you should not be as selfish as to deny her this request."

Who's he to tell me this? She clenched her teeth, glaring darkly at the soldier standing at the door. Winry was livid, her blue eyes crackling with rage. The weakness her body felt was temporarily forgotten, as rage pumped through her veins. "You're scum!" she spat, injecting as much venom as she could into those two words.

He smirked in reply. "If I am scum, then you must be worse."

He grabbed Melanie and pushed her to the door.

Melanie smiled a comforting, tired, smile before the door closed and engulfed Winry in darkness once more.

She felt useless.

Hopeless.

She slid down the wall, slumped forward on her knees, and didn't try to stop the flow of tears as her hands fisted. That rage that pooled inside her, poisoned her, was becoming too much to bear as she heard the clacks of Melanie's shackles slowly fade the farther she walked away. She twisted her mouth, screwed her eyes shut, and punched her fist onto the cement, pain flaring in her knuckles, and repeated the action a few more times.

She stopped after five violent punches.

Her knuckled hurt too much.

She was sure they were bleeding a little. The ground was rough and frozen from the slush that frosted under her dull boots. She felt little shards of ice dig into her knuckles as she slowly brought it back down on the floor one last time.

I couldn't do anything! Why can't I at least...at least do something useful? She grieved, closing her eyes against the thick drop of tears.

She knew why though.

She was afraid.

She was terrified of being touched. She was terrified of being beat. She was terrified of pain, of darkness, of so many things that it seemed ridiculous now, as she kneeled alone in the dirty, cramped, cell with no one but her shackles as her friend.

She was as good as dead.

She had nothing else to fear but death; all her problems at home, Ed and Al, they all seemed minor and stupid compared to what she was faced with now. All of this pointless hoping, all of this useless praying, would do her no good in a few short hours, when she was sure, by the darkly delighted look she had received from her previous tormentor, they would kill her once and for all with their bare hands.

"Skull means nothing against those who are willing to kill you with their bare hands"

She hiccuped a hysterical laugh that faded into pitiful sobs of resignation.

"W-why does it have to be like this?" she whispered, curling up into a ball on the floor. The ground was cold against her cheek, cold like the soldiers that patrolled the area all day and all night, and she allowed that one person she had stubbornly refused to think about because it hurt too much to dominate her thoughts again.

It made an old ache sprout back in her chest.

At least it was a different type of pain.

This was a pain she'd grown used to over the years. She could handle this pain...

And who knows? She thought, numbly. I-I'll probably never see him again so...so.. She felt her chest tighten with emotion again, her throat close up as tears stung her eyes again.

"E...Ed," she whimpered, screwing her eyes shut to keep in the flood of tears. They would do her no good in this barren wasteland. "Edward... Please, I, Ed... Ed.. Ed..."

She fell asleep chanting his name like a prayer.

01 day, 02 hours, 14 seconds ago

"ARGHHHHH!"

Winry covered her ears and stared at the wall.

Another scream.

Another shout to shut her up.

There were sounds of pincers falling on the floor and a loud curse that made her wince because of its harshness.

She shut her eyes against the blood-curdling screams that penetrated every wall in the dungeons they were kept in. Melanie shifted forward and brought Winry's head to rest on her chest, shushing her as small hiccups escaped her lips.

"W-what are they doing to her?" Winry whispered.

"I think it's the woman a few cells down," Melanie said, closing her eyes as another howl of pain came and went. "She's been here for more than seven months already. I think she was a spy for Briggs sent to investigate Drachma headquarters... and she was caught." The woman sighed. "I'm not sure, I could only speak to them very briefly when the soldier comes to take me out and locks me up to the bars while he goes to fix something or the other," she shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.

Winry gazed at her, to the tense glimmer in her green eyes.

"Are they torturing her?"

"Probably," Melanie said testily. "I... yes, they're torturing her."

"You hesitated," Winry accused. The screams became weaker, the longer they took doing the lord-knew-what. "What is it? What are they doing to her?"

"Nothing," Melanie smiled, almost believably. But Winry knew better.

"No, you're hiding something from me." Winry pushed off of her. "What is it? Tell me."

"It's noth—"

"Bullshit! It's something!" Winry snapped, her hands balling as a familiar ache appeared in her chest. "Why don't you just tell me? What's so important you have to keep it to yourself? Why doesn't anyone ever tell me anything? I can handle it! I-I know I can!" Winry bit her lip, her blue eyes carved out and hollow.

The days were staring to seem like too much.

She had new wounds.

New bruises.

New everything as they took her out of the cell to 'interrogate' her.

They did it more often now.

They touched her sometimes, tried to fondle her breasts and forcefully kiss her, they tried to violate her and take her last shred of somethingshe had, but she resisted and often times it helped, as they seemed to love the fearful, wild, look in her eyes every time she tried to run away from them.

Now it was a game for them. They loved seeing her crawl away like a terrified animal.

It was a sick game and it would not stop until one or the other succumbed to their tactics.

Winry refused to succumb to their disgusting advances.

She was better than that. She'd give them hell, no matter how tired or weak she felt, before they could take that from her.

Melanie surveyed her sympathetically. "You... weren't talking about me, were you?"

Winry's shoulders slumped and her chin hit her chest. "...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You're right, I wasn't. It's...it's just that these two really close friends of mine always keep things from me." Winry sunk into the wall, rubbed her arms against the persistent chill. "Dangerous things, you know? The type of secrets that could get them killed or worse..."

"Maybe that's why they keep them from you." Melanie scooted closer to her. "They don't want to put you in danger."

"But they put me in even more danger when they don't," Winry mumbled a little irritatingly.

"That might be so but they are probably trying their best to keep you out of their affairs in order to protect you, right?" Melanie's eyes twinkled with knowing. Winry looked down at her scratched up boots.

"Yeah... I guess they are." Winry picked dirt from underneath her nails. "Someone once told me men speak more with actions than words. I guess it's true, huh? They've shown me more than they've spoken to me about their adventures... I guess I just have to be there for them when they need me the most, right?" She heaved a sigh. "It's still hard..."

"Wise words," Melanie smiled warmly. "But it is something you just have to endure for the time being. There will come a time when they will let you in. Until then, you should just be there for them."

Winry gave her a searching stare. "He...that man who told me that was a wise man," Winry responded, sadly. "He.. he was murdered a few years ago."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Winry rested her chin on her knee's. She could still hear anguished crying from the woman a few cells down. It wasn't bothering her too much now. She was glad. "I got over it."

She hoped she would be able to get over this if she ever made it out...

It was naïve hoping but it was something to cling onto when all this darkness threatened to make her insane.

"If you really want to know," Melanie said, after a while of companionable silence. "They're preforming surgery on her."

"Surgery?" Winry furrowed her brows in concern. "What type of surgery? And why aren't they sedating her? It's really dangerous to preform it here, too, in the cells..." she trailed off, timidly.

"They wouldn't waste such valuable resources on us," Melanie chuckled, bitterly. "You know that. You said it yourself."

Winry looked at her, apprehensively. "What type of... surgery are they preforming?"

Melanie closed her eyes and leaned heavily on Winry.

"Abortion."

Another scream tore through the building.

00 days, 02 hours, 12 seconds ago

Winry had the feeling that Melanie knew something she didn't.

The woman kept glancing at the door and in the dim lighting Winry could see her fingers tap impatiently on her knee. There was also the tense shoulders, the flicker of emotions that fleeted her face if Winry stared at her long enough, as well as the soft sighs that escaped her lips.

Winry curled closer into herself, trying to ignore the chill that always reminded her of the darkness in her life.

"Is something wrong?" Winry asked softly, when the tapping became too much for her not to question.

"No, nothing," Melanie frowned, pausing the fidget and instead curling her hand into a fist. "Why do you ask?"

"N-no reason," A shiver ran down her spine. The cold was becoming worse. "I think there's a blizzard outside..."

"There probably is. Look," Melanie pointed at the rectangular window toward the ceiling. White puffs splashed through it; the snow very visible. "It's going to get worse, too. Snow storms in Drachma are worse than in Briggs."

Winry rubbed her arms. The white medical coat only offered so little warmth, the material still stiff and starchy, and they refused to give them any other clothing aside from a dirty rag which they called a 'blanket'.

Both woman never touched it.

It looked filthy and they did not want to inherit some disease from the dirty piece of fabric.

"I hope it goes away soon."

"It will. Everything fades with time." Melanie scooted closer, offering body heat. The cell was dripping with water from a leaky pipe across from them and the water was soaking their bottoms. She could feel Winry's trembles transfer into her own body. "It will all fade soon..."

Winry closed her eyes, only to snap them open again when she heard the familiar sound of a lock on a door being turned.

Before she could react, a bright light blinded her and she felt Melanie release her, letting the cold wrap around her once more.

"Are you going again?" Winry asked hoarsely, watching despondently as Melanie walked over to the soldiers silent beckon. It was always the same soldier, who could pass as Amestrian save for the black eyes and sharp facial structure that defined Drachma civilians, that came to get her.

"Faster," the soldier barked.

"I'll be back soon. I'll make sure no one comes in while I'm away," Melanie promised, as she took the man's hand almost gently. Winry narrowed her eyes and tucked her legs closer to her. She had been given some food, very bad food, due to Melanie's persistence but it wasn't nearly enough to keep the hunger pains away.

However, as Winry observed Melanie, the woman looked quite healthy... kind of like before, when they were in the hospital...

Winry brushed these thoughts off when the soldier cuffed Melanie as per usual.

"Melanie," Winry called, before the door shut.

"What is it?" Melanie hovered by the door, the tall soldier waiting for Winry to speak so he could shut her in the darkness again. His cold eyes foreshadowed pain if she said the wrong thing... she needed to be careful.

"I-I'm sorry.." The words sounded weak, frail, and Winry didn't think she could ever voice such a pathetic sound. She looked down at her lap, unable to meet the woman's gaze.

The door shut before Melanie could respond.

She was once again engulfed in the dark that served more as a blessing than a curse.

At least in the dark she didn't have to see her deprived body; the hands that hurt as the tips had turned a shade of black nor the scratches, bruises, or swelling around her face and ribs and arms.

She didn't have to see her mangled body and for that was grateful.

The swirl of snow clouding the rectangular window became worse.

The water became frost under boots in no time at all.

Winry closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep.

00 weeks, 00 days, 00 hours, 05 seconds: Present

"Let me go! Let me go you son of a—ow, no, let me go!" She kicked and struggled and dragged herself and held onto whatever she could get her hands on. She refused to be flung into some dark room and have people beat her senseless.

She was tired of being submissive.

She wanted to get out.

He had come into her cell when she had been dozing off and immediately grabbed her by the neck. It was the soldier who had touched her before. The one who usually loved to bring her out for apparent reason and start to molest her in the Interrogation Room; start to kick her and watch her snivel on the floor with that disgusting smirk plastered on his face. He didn't even give her a chance to digest what was happening before he was dragging her down the hall, seemingly in a spitting rage for some reason.

She was going to be used as a tool to expunge his fury.

She refused.

"Be still!" The soldier snapped, a dark menace in his eyes.

"NO! I told you! I don't know anything! Just let me go!"

"You leave me no choice then," the soldier smirked, effortlessly slamming her head into the wall hard enough to disorientate her.

Stars exploded behind the lid of her eyes and her head gave a mighty pound.

Whatever rebellious thoughts were in her mind quickly dissolved into thoughts of just how much her head hurt. It was enough to shake her back to reality – to make her realize just how exhausted and weak her body really was – and even though she hated the weakness, there was nothing she could do about it.

He dragged her the rest of the way.

Winry gurgled out something incoherent, gasping for breath as his hand clenched reflexively against her neck.

Then it happened.

Winry froze, the fingers clawed around the wider hand that strangled her with its strength.

She saw it, them.

It was a mere glimpse – it could have been a trick of the eye – but she was so sure it was them.

Their hair color was different – black – but their eyes still had the piercing gold shade that she'd always admired throughout the years. But the warm, kind, emotion usually shining in their eyes was replaced with something different; something she had never seen before.

Their eyes were wide, frozen: one pair blistering with savage rage and the other with horror.

Winry hoped she didn't look as bad as she felt.

"LEMME' GO!"

"Hold still, you trash!" the man spat, tightening his grip.

"NO—STOP—UGH!" Her throat crushed closed, air suddenly become a necessity. The panic which was already full-scale drained into an urgency she'd never felt before as she clawed and choked and kicked.

Her eyes began to roll up, water, as her body slowly shut down against her will.

Her surroundings turned black, spots appearing from the corner of her eyes, and her lungs burned for air so badly tears started to roll down her face in excess.

Then, release.

Her cheek collided with the concrete floor and she strove for air. She clutched her head and allowed the acrid air of Drachma to fill her lungs. Despite the cold that seared her lungs, she had never been so happy to breathe than she did there.

Her vision became clearer, the urgency for air fading into exhaustion, but the terror that they had arrived to that looming, steel, door that promised a world of pain was crystal clear in her dizzy mind.

Not again, she thought weakly, trying feebly to turn away from the door that opened up a myriad of horrors. Why do they keep doing this? Why me?

"Now, will you cooperate this time?" he asked, kneeling down and lifting her chin with one finger. She blinked tears away, trying to be strong but ultimately failing because how can you be strong when the person who might very well be your murderer was staring straight at you?

"I... I swear," she sobbed, ripping her chin from his grasp. "I don't know anything."

"What about Full Metal?" the man asked. "What are his special techniques?"

"I don't know."

"How about his brother? There are rumors stating that he is in an immortal state. Is this true?"

"No!"

"Full Metal's specialty, what is it?" he rephrased, which only earned the same answer.

"I don't know!" Winry shut her eyes and sucked in another sob. "I-I don't know! Just let me go... please, I really don't know anything..."

The commander stared at her, a darkness foreboding the hell she would go through shading his eyes. That slick smile appeared on his face again, as he gazed at her fallen body with primal desire.

"I guess it's time, isn't it?" he whispered, almost comfortingly. "You'll be put out of your misery soon, girl, but not after I get my fun." He grinned, as if he hit the jackpot.

Winry tremulously lifted herself on her forearm, shaking her head, a pleading glimmer in her glossy eyes. She cried out when the soldier lifted her limply by the neck again, grabbed her coat and tried to shrug it off of her. She refused but he was quick and managed to jerk the coat off of her, letting the cold air touch her trembling skin.

Her eyes desperately flashed to the two men she had recognized as Ed and Al.

They weren't there.

Her stomach plummeted to her ankles.

Had she hallucinated her deepest hopes?

She was thrown into the room before she could think into it anymore.

Screams filled the room for the next hour.

A/N: And the heros finally appear. About time, right? I've gotten a few reviews that asked if Ed and Al were ever going to appear. Well, they would - eventually lol. I also got one that asked if I'd ever make a chapter on their thoughts and I have to say that this is more Winry-centric. It's all revolves around her and not the boys although there will be a lot of EdWin interaction, I can assure that.

This story is actually complete XD

I wouldn't have posted it up if it wasn't. I know myself enough that it'd take me YEARS to complete a fanfiction since I lose interest fairly soon. So first I complete the fictions and then I post them up and update crazy-fast. I'll try to update every three to five days, tops. Man, this story is going to be completed by the end of the month D:

Review!

Scarlett.