5 Second Countdown
by. Poisoned Scarlet
04: Rescue
00 days, -01 hour, -5 seconds later
She crashed to the ground again, eyes crossing, part of her face numb and her leg hurting so badly; canceling out with the pain in her arm. But the pain in her body were the least of her worries as the man circled her predatorily. Everytime he asked her a question and everytime she answered wrongly he would pick her up and throw her against the wall like some children's ball.
Half the time, he either kicked her or didn't do anything, which wound her up in anxiety as she waited for him to snap and hit her again.
It was a sick game and he was winning.
She hated it.
But then again, when didn't she?
Hate was an emotion she had grown used to feeling during the days spent in the isolation of her cell. The light emotions she failed to cherish when she was safe and sound made her mourn. She took for granted so many things, she regretted so many things, and now she was face-to-face with her soon-to-be murderer and she could nothing but cry like the weak little girl he taunted her to be.
"How can we enter Briggs unnoticed?"
"I... don't know," Winry gasped, clutching her cheek. She sat up slowly, still holding her throbbing cheek, and gazed guardedly through the veil of her blond hair, which was in tangles and knots and splayed across her face from the rough handling.
"We have evidence that states you were given a tour by that traitor Zolf J. Kimblee," the commander said, a frown in his voice. "You must know another way inside. There must be."
"There is no way inside," she said quietly. "Briggs was built...to be impregnable. If there is a way, I don't know it," Winry confessed hoarsely, hacking up what little liquid she had in her stomach when he kicked her with a sneering wrinkle of his nose. She fell on her side, deliriously thinking that maybe if he kicked her again she'd pass out and then he couldn't do anything else that might harm her.
Because she would be long gone and in the realm where miracles happened; where anything could be easily created or destroyed; where Edward could reassure her and smile at her and hug her and wash out the darkness in her heart with a single whisper of her name...
"I shall ask you again, how can we—!"
There was the sound of the iron door slamming open.
A gust of cold wind hit her, making her recoil on the dirty floor as she held a palm to her swelling eye.
A surprised shout distracted her.
The squelch of boots made her stomach churn.
Winry weakly rolled on her back and lolled her head to the side, trying to focus her swimming vision on the two shadow figures that seemed to be fighting. She could hear shouts and snarls; backs slamming against concrete and the distinct sound of bone breaking under the force of fists. She felt something sweep past her, to the wall, which was followed by the frightening snarl of: "get the fuck up, you bastard."
A whimper escaped her throat, as she breathed in shallow breathes.
She couldn't feel her hands, even as she shakily tried to sit up to no avail.
Her lower back had this scary numb feeling that had her struggling to touch it in an attempt to assure herself that she was alright; that the numbness was from the cold and not from the wall-cracking kick she'd been victim to. She gave up trying to touch it and instead focused on staying awake.
When she rolled to the side, her elbow caught in her ribs and shot a scalding pain down her body. Her body lapsed in control and Winry screamed through bloody, clenched, teeth. She choked on the pool of blood in her throat, spat it out and continued to scream because her ribs hurt so badly and she didn't know what was worse: the numbness in her lower back or the acidic spread in her side.
Someone was there suddenly, picking her up. She felt urgency wash through her. She desperately shoved her way out of the arms, side still burning and head still pounding. She released a pitiful sob of fright and ducked her head, too pained to do anything more, but the sob received a soothing "shhh" in return instead of a mocking taunt.
Her eyes couldn't focus on whoever it was carrying her and she couldn't say anything because her jaw felt oddly slack. There was no pain – just a mere absence around her upper jaw – but she was sure it was dislocated and the sheer cold had numbed the pain enough that she did not feel it.
But she would eventually.
She always felt every kick, every punch, every scathing word, once the trauma passed and she was left with the bitter aftertaste.
"Let...go.." she rasped, trying to throw off the arms wrapped around her frail body. A sob hiccuped from her raw throat. "No... p'ease.."
"It's okay, Winry. You're going to be okay. Y-you're going to be okay. I swear I won't let anyone hurt you anymore," he breathed into her ear. "I promise they will never hurt you again."
She recognized the voice continuing to sooth the bitter crackle in her heart. That determined voice could only belong to one person. However, at that time, in those crucial one hour, five seconds too late, the voice was tinged with poorly concealed loathe but the panic and fear were more prominent than anything else.
She didn't want to believe it was him.
She was scared to believe it was him.
I didn't dream it, she found herself thinking. He's really here... She felt him pull her up, felt weightless in his arms, and then light blinded her and the cold was more sweet than anything as he ran.
"Did you get her—W...Winry?"
Alphonse.
"I have her, now let's go before they catch onto—!"
An alarm rang in the distance.
She saw red pulse behind her eye lids.
"Too late..."
"Oh, no, I think we've been detected! We have to go back and warn—!"
"The others are releasing the rest, Al! They're going make it!" he replied, sharply. "Our main priority was to rescue Winry! We don't have time to go back and help the rest! This place is swarming with those Drachmian scum and if we don't hurry then we're going to end up like them!"
"But... I... okay." The defeat in the younger Elric's voice had Winry contemptuously thinking that if he did not get the silly notion of 'helping everyone' out of his head then he, too, would be crushed by the cruelty of the North just as she was.
It was her naivete that got her into this mess and only she was aware that only she could get herself out of it.
However, her luck had pulled through after all...
"Remember that if you survive, it is on sheer luck alone."
She nearly laughed.
"Hey! You two! Stop right there!"
"Damn it! Alphonse, now!" She heard a clap, the roaring crash of rock before the gun shots registered in her head. One of them came too close for comfort and she felt Edward press her tighter into his chest; as if he would take the bullet if it came down to it.
She felt fear trickle down her spine.
She hoped he wasn't hurt.
She wouldn't bear it if he were hurt because of her; if another person got hurt because she was too weak to protect herself.
Melanie...?
"Exit, exit, exit..." she heard Ed's murmuring. She parted her lips, wanting to help the best way she could but all she could manage was a shallow draw of air. "Fuck this! I'm making my own exit!"
"Wait for me, brother—wait, why are we going this way? The exit is over—"
"We don't have time! Look at her! She's... she's... damn it!"
She cried out when he adjusted her in his arms.
"Al, do it."
"But brother—!"
"I'd fucking do it myself but if you remember I can't so DO IT ALPHONSE!"
She heard a faint clap, a short "we're almost out, Win", before a loud explosion deafened her for a moment.
Then cold.
A bitter cold that had her silently crying because it stringed along a myriad of memories she wished she could forget. It was no longer sweet, like before, now it was just daunting. Through clenched teeth, she cried, raising a weak hand to press into her eyes as she recalled the lifeless, expressionless, bodies of those forsaken by the country they had been fighting for.
What's going to happen to me now?
Was this even real? She believed it was. But isolation and fear had a way of making the most stony person break into a million shards of glass...
And she had never been very strong; no matter what people said.
"It's okay, Win, please stop crying." A hand brushed her cheek, gently pried the fingers open when she dug them into her eyes to stop the repetition of black memories. The cold was still overwhelming but she calmed down enough to grab his shirt and dig her face into his chest to protect herself against the harsh winds and merciless flashbacks.
...Edward...
"I'm scared," she whispered into his jacket. Melanie. She was thinking about Melanie and how helpful she had been in comforting her. Her soft words and sweet lullabies were enough to sooth Winry whenever she had an anxiety attack or couldn't sleep at night because she was too scared; because she knew the solders would rile them up with gun shots or haul them out before they even knew what was happening.
She wished she was with her in that moment.
But she had been taken out before herself.
She was being tortured or—or
Dead? Is she dead?
She, herself, had almost died.
Maybe she had already...?
She swallowed and forced the thought out of her mind.
A guttural growl brought her out of her thoughts; made her grip harder on his jacket. "You don't need to be afraid anymore, Winry. I won't let them hurt you. I won't ever let them hurt you again. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you anymore!"
The fierceness in his words was enough for her.
She may not have Melanie with her in those moments but she had someone better: she had Edward Elric and he would first die before letting anything happen to her.
In a way, she hoped he wouldn't.
Enough people had tried to save her from the darkness of the world.
Maybe it was time she just became another number to the cruelty? Maybe then she would learn and grow; no matter how many cracks adorned her heart because of it.
"Okay," she choked in a breath and felt something wrap around her and block the freezing wind.
There was some more talk, some more hands wiping away her tears, and a few more voices joining into the cacophony of noise as she slowly began to fade from the world of ear-splitting screams and malicious laughs.
She wondered for the last time if this was all a dream.
If it was, she didn't want to wake up.
02 days, 03 hours, 06 seconds later
The next time she awoke, it was to a white ceiling.
There were birds chirping outside and the warm sunlight filtered by the open window made her flinch and turn away. She couldn't comprehend this sweet nirvana as she sat up, crying out when her stomach gave a jab of pain and her leg and arm burned. Her side was also throbbing terribly...
There was something around her jaw, keeping it in place, but she could move her lips enough to talk. It wrapped down to her neck, thickly, almost suffocatingly.
There was some sort of cast around her arm, heavy bandages around her hands and feet, and needles stuck in her free arm.
A dull ache appeared in her lower back.
But the crash of pain was enough to disorientate her; to panic her enough that she disregarded everything in an attempt to escape. Her mind conjured this screwed up notion that maybe this was her opening for escape...?
Where am I?
The door creaked opened, something that made her blood run cold, and Winry screamed, fearing the worst as she remembered the dreadful creaking of the door in her cell...
He's back, Winry thought, blinded by panic. HE'S BACK!
"Winry? What're you—wait, calm down! Winry!"
"NOO! LET ME GO! ED! MELANIE! M-MEL—!"
"It's me! Ed! It's me, Win, it's me Ed! I'm right here!"
The door opened again, which only added to the churning urgency in the pit of her stomach. "Brother, whats wrong?"
"I don't know! She freaked out on me! Call the nurse, Al! Winry, stop it, you're going to hurt yourself—!"
But she couldn't hear him because she was suddenly struck with so many awful memories that had her quivering in place, her free hand desperately pulling at the contraption locked around her neck. There was pain erupting around every part of her body with her erratic movements but all she could think about was how she needed to escape and how she needed to find Melanie and just disappear.
Her mind raced as she whined and kept clawing at the rough neck-brace, thinking it was just another shackle to chain her down with; a torture device to try and make her squeal information she didn't even know.
Where am I? What is this?
"Pin her down," a sharp voice instructed. This only ratcheted her survival instinct; the pull inside her that told her to run away; far, far away and never look back. She gave up trying to get the device off her neck and instead focused on getting off the bed, as hands grabbed her and tried to push her back.
No, she thought, urgently. Not again! I can't let them get me! I can't! She ripped her arm from their hands, shoving it forward and feeling a flare of triumph when she heard a wheeze.
She hit one.
"LET ME GO!" Winry grabbed the nurses hand with startling strength. Her blue eyes were wide, fierce, and painted with misplaced determination. She saw her wild eyes in the reflection of the nurse's glasses. She didn't really think about it.
She shoved the nurse back, tore off the tubes connected in her arm and placed her feet on the cold ground.
Concrete. Its full of blood. Its full of bodies and—She tried to push through someone. She tried her best to escape. Where am I? How could this—?
"Winry, no one is going to hurt you! It's me, Alphonse! We're not going to let you go back, okay, so please calm down—!"
"LIAR!" Winry shrieked, forcing herself forward.
The anxiety was staggering.
They were pushing her back.
They were all pushing her back.
Just one break, she thought, heartbeat hammering in her chest. I just need a break! Just one! Please!
She felt her back connect with the bed again; hands pinned her down strongly; the dizzying smell of disinfectant was making her stomach cramp. "... please stop I don't know anything..." she rasped.
She struggled against their grip and saw a flash of white, the gleam of a needle, and felt a pierce in her arm.
Not again...
"Melanie," she hoarsely whispered, as the adrenaline drained to sleepiness. Whatever they had injected, it made her limbs lose their strength and though she knew she should be panicking, she couldn't bring forth enough strength to properly express it.
Her eyes were too heavy; head pounding as if stuffed with cotton. Her mind screamed that she was in a dire situation but her body wouldn't respond. "Help me, Melanie, they're hurting me again..." she breathed, as her shoulders relaxed and her body sunk into the stiff mattress.
Her vision swam.
Her mouth slacked.
Her body felt so floaty and all rational thought melted into distorted images and misplaced sounds.
The last thing she saw were pained gold eyes.
04 days, 08 hours, 09 seconds later
The next time she awoke she wasn't as panicked as the first time.
She could wrap her head around the fact that the room was neat, stark white, and reeked of disinfectant. There was the familiar echo of steps and murmur that came from the paper-thin walls surrounding her and it made her nostalgic. She recognized what she saw. She was in a hospital.
Meaning she was safe.
Meaning someone had either saved her or this was another dream where she would wake up to darkness.
But it couldn't be a dream, she rationalized. No dream could be this perceptive; this real.
When she tried to sit up, a hand lashed out and she flinched, instinctively snapping her head down and waiting for the blow which would jar her brain in her head and leave her breathing in the slushy residue of snow that littered the ground in her dingy cell.
But nothing happened and instead the hand gently touched her shoulder.
"You're awake... that's good. Winry, I need you to lie back down, alright? Come on, lie down..."
She opened her eyes slowly and gazed into the relieved, but apprehensive, gold eyes of Edward Elric. Her body acted before her mind: her arms wrapped around his neck, mumbling things he could barely hear as he sighed and slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
There was a strange numbing that quickly wore off the more she moved but she didn't care, even as sharp pains began to blossom in her upper face and spread down her body.
"Don't move too much," Ed murmured, gently pulling her head back with his hand. "Your jaw's dislocated and it still needs healing."
"Dislocated?" she slurred and he nodded, a thin smile on his face.
"That... that bastard nearly broke it." His voice broke abruptly, eyes blaze with poorly concealed rage. "He broke some ribs too. That fucking bastard..." She kept holding onto him, even as he dropped his hand to grip the metal rail which prevented her from falling out.
His hand nearly dented it.
"Brother, it's time to go. Visiting hours are—oh!"
She raised her drug-clouded eyes, smiling when she saw Al standing by the door. But she was more surprised by his lack-of-metal-container-of-a-body. Instead, she saw a chubby boy with rusted gold eyes and light gold hair. He was wearing a traditional business outfit without the vest and she knew that she should not be surprised: the professional look just suited Al.
"Winry!" He rushed over to her, scooting close to his brother as Ed pushed Winry back down on her bed. She didn't want to, that much was evident, but she gave in in order to appease the brothers.
She reached down and prodded her side, hissing when she felt the developing bruise. "That's gonna' hurt when I walk," she frowned when her words came out all distorted. "Ugh. Stupid jaw..." She touched the numbed swelled spot on her jaw and sighed through her nose.
Her eyes flickered to her side instinctively, where she noticed her absence.
"What...? Melanie?" Winry frowned, the best she could with her jaw feeling nonexistent. "Where is she? Ed, Al?" She didn't like the grim looks on their faces nor the way Ed was clenching his fist.
"Who's Melanie?" Ed asked first.
"My cell partner," she responded, and his eyes flashed with something dark.
"We didn't find her, Win," Alphonse said gently. "We only managed to save a couple of people before Drachmian soldiers overwhelmed us... she wasn't one of them, as far as we could tell. She wasn't with you when brother rescued you, was she?"
"No..." Winry slowly shook her head, eyes starting to water. "But you don't get it. You don't know what they're going to do to her!" She sucked in a breath. "T-They've already d-done so many things to her... I-I think they... they.. oh no.." Winry paled, as her worst fear arose again."If.. if she's pregnant." She clutched the sheets, listening to the new technology that was a heart rate monitor by her side soar with her heartbeat. "Oh, no. They're going to... going to.."
A scream tore the building.
"What type of surgery are they preforming?"
"Abortion."
She instinctively ducked her head down, tried to take in deep breathes to calm her racing heart.
"They're not going to do anything to her, Win, she'll be alright!" Ed reassured, tentatively reaching out to touch her shoulder. She tensed at his touch.
"That's...not true," Winry choked, her eyes watering. "If she is...if she becomes preg—they're going... to kill the baby." She had a brief flash of her full body; how her stomach looked a little bigger; a little more swelled out. How she thought that maybe Melanie had been hiding something from her...could it be?
The silence was thick.
"H-How could they?" Al dared to ask. "They wouldn't do...something like that to a woman..."
"Hah," she breathed bitterly. "I wish I could still think that." Winry swallowed, getting lost in the memory she had with the other people, spies, who had been captured long before; months before the war between Briggs.
She remembered that woman's screams all too vividly.
"What type of surgery are they preforming?"
"Abortion."
Winry tried to swallow down the heave. Her stomach felt strangely empty but not hunger-empty. "They... cut them open. And I guess they take out—take out the fetus before sewing them back up again... I-I don't think they use any type of anesthesia or sedater. They just do it."
Al looked horrified. "How could someone do that to a person?"
Winry shrugged, over the fact that such horrors could exist. "Its war."
Ed sneered and stood, kicking the stool he was sitting on.
He ran a hand down his face.
Alphonse gazed sadly at him, then steeled his eyes and looked at Winry.
"Did they... we need to know, did they ever touch you, Winry?" Alphonse forced himself to ask. "The doctors told us much but we still need to make sure, just in case. You're really weak so they can't really diagnose—
"What the fuck are you asking, Al?" Ed snarled, sending his brother a burning look. "She didn't get raped! She didn't! The doctor told us there was no... no sign of penetration or-or disease or anything!"
"But that doesn't mean she wasn't—" He didn't even finish the statement, a greenish hue on his face.
"I-I wasn't raped," Winry whispered, not daring to look up into Ed's eyes. "They—they tried a lot of times but I didn't let myself. There was this officer there who refused to have hostages sexually taken advantage of." She pressed firmly on her jaw so she could speak clearer. "But they didn't really care. They mostly did whatever they wanted to us. M-Melanie..." Winry whimpered. "She... made a deal with one of the soldiers. I-I think she took most of the rapes for me. She was gone an awful lot. Sometimes she wouldn't be back for hours."
"I see. We'll have to thank her when we meet her," Al smiled comfortingly, sadly. He patted her hand. "We'll find her, Winry. No matter what, we'll find her."
Ed spat viciously, hands balled into fists as he paced up and down the length of the room. Soon, he roared out a curse and punched a hole straight through the wall. When his hand came back, dots of blood splashed on the linoleum floor.
Wasn't that...his right arm? She thought quietly, a little confused. His automail arm?
Her eyes strayed to the dots of blood.
Automail did not bleed.
Her eyes widened in realization.
"Brother!" Al gasped, concerned as more drops trickled from the wound on his knuckles. "You—!"
"I need air." Ed stormed out the room, the thirst for vengeance spelled out in his rigid posture and fisted hands.
"Brother..." Al whispered sorrowfully.
"Go after him," Winry said softly, the familiar sense of fear sprouting within her again; for different reasons this time around. "Please, don't let him do anything reckless." She sunk into her stiff mattress and pulled the stiff sheets over her mouth. "Please tell him to come back." Her eyes strayed to the dark edging in the horizon. "I don't like the dark..."
Alphonse didn't hesitate to rush out of the room, yells of "I'm sorry! I'll be right back!" ringing in her ears as the pain in her ribs became sharp with every breath.
She didn't sleep that night.