Disclaimer: I don't own the world of FullMetal Alchemist: Hiromu Arakawa is the creator.

A/N: Third installment! This one, so far, is probably my favorite, just because I think it's really cute and sweet; plus, I enjoy writing a pissed off Edward tremendously ;). Anyway, I suppose this could take place about two months after "Promise". And now, I just want to take a tiny sec to thank everyone who's enjoying Little Wonders and for leaving comments (for all my stories as well). Thanks guys, you rock!

StarKatt427

Story Three: Faith

...Because she believes in him even when he doesn't...

This was the third day he had tried.

Edward's fingers divided his hair into three sections, then proceeded to try and wrap them around each other as he attempted to make a braid. He was just able to form three loops before his fingers slipped, like they always did, and the work he had finished unraveled.

Edward sighed harshly, angrily, growling darkly as he yanked his hands away from his hair and balled them into fists. Finally, finally, after months of letting his hair grow out and refusing to cut it, even with Pinako nagging him to, Ed's hair had finally achieved a length that hung down past his shoulders and, while no where near as long as Winry's tresses, his was now long enough to be tied back.

He didn't want it in a ponytail; he wanted it braided. The problem, though, was that he just couldn't braid it.

For what seemed like the thousandth time that afternoon, Edward brushed his fingers through his hair to rid it of the knots he kept producing and again sectioned off his hair as he tried to braid it. He had barely started before his automail fingers twitched (something that was lessening the longer he had the new limbs) and the hair slipped from his fingers.

"Dammit!" he yelled, pulling the hair tie from his teeth and throwing it across the yard. Why the hell was this so hard? When they were little, he'd seen Winry do it to her mother before, twisting Sara's lemon colored locks into an elegant braid, and sometimes even plaiting his mother's. It had been easier for Winry to braid his mom's because her hair had been longer than Winry's mother's, and while she would twist the hair, Trisha would sit there and smile contently, her eyes closed as she hummed softly.

If Winry could do it, so could he.

Ed quickly stood up from the ground and stomped over to where the ponytail had landed, then flopped back down onto the late summer grass, grumbling the whole time. Stretching out his legs, he sighed deeply, then began to try to braid his hair again.

It didn't end well; the parts kept slipping from Edward's fingers and flowing back into their original positions, leaving Ed growing hotter and hotter, his blood boiling at his own incompetence. It annoyed him beyond reason that he kept messing up, but what really pissed him off was that he wasn't able to actually get a good braid going. Along with his anger rose frustration and discourage, and though he pretended not to notice, his eyes were beginning to burn with unwanted moisture.

After his sixth mess up in this one particular spot, Edward let out a roaring yell that developed into a high pitched scream and slammed his automail fist into the grass, punching it over and over without relent. He knew he was acting childish and having a temper tantrum, but this was his third day at trying to braid his freakin hair, dammit! It shouldn't take this long!

"Brother! What's wrong?" Alphonse called, voice echoing inside his armor as he drew nearer, and Edward screamed again, hitting the ground with both fists until he felt his hands slide into raw soil.

Al, coming from the back of the house, came into view and froze about five yards from Edward. Although the helmet's face betrayed no emotion, Edward could see even through his fit of anger that his little brother was alarmed but knew to keep his distance. "Brother?" Alphonse asked softly, taking a few steps slowly forward. "Are…you okay?"

If it had been anyone but Al, Edward would have screamed at them to go away; instead, he tried to somewhat compose himself as he forced out, "Fine. Just…go away, okay?"

"Brother—"

"Please," Ed whispered, tone gentler this time, as he glared down at his grass stained, dirt covered hands, unable to bear the hurt in Alphonse's voice, the shame rejecting his little brother was inflicting upon him. "Please, Al."

Alphonse was horribly reluctant; he knew Edward wasn't hurt, but he was definitely upset about something, and Al had a feeling that since he wouldn't tell him, it was something to do with his big brother's pride. Sighing softly, Al nodded, then headed back around the house, knowing Edward would have to work out whatever was wrong without him but hating the very idea.

Edward, for his part, felt deep shame overwhelm him because he'd let his little brother see him like this. Biting his lip until he faintly tasted blood, he picked up the discarded hair tie once more and tried to start a new braid.

He sat there for several minutes, each time getting a little more hair braided, and each time his fingers would always slip and the hair would fall away and he'd start over again. Ed's bottom lip was caught under his top teeth and upper lip to keep it from trembling, but he couldn't get his fingers to stop shaking. He would get a little more done the more he practiced, but he never failed to mess up, and when a strand of hair finally got caught in the joints of his automail fingers, he cried out in pain. Dropping the ponytail, he pulled his hair around and tried to wrench it free from his artificial limb, ignoring the pain even as hair ripped from his head and the strands got tangled up all around the cogs and places between his knuckles.

"C'mon, you stupid…." Edward growled, wincing as he pulled harshly once more, only to be rewarded with an even greater hurt as a small section of hair separated from his scalp and his hand flew away, several strands of gold trapped inside the gears.

As soon as his hair was free, Edward's flesh hand was furiously rubbing his burning scalp, trying to take the pain away as he muttered, "It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt," under his breath.

"Ed?"

Edward looked over to see Winry standing a few feet away from him, a basket of apples she'd bought in town cradled in her arms. She was watching him quizzically, her head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide and incredibly blue.

He frowned at her, eyes narrowed as his hand stopped moving for a moment. "What do you want?" he spat, hand resuming its job of massaging his head.

"I was just coming back to the house," she stated, voice slightly stunned. She looked at him, her eyes squinting. "Are you okay?"

"Perfectly fine," he growled through clenched teeth, glaring severely at her. "Now will you leave me alone?"

"Geez, sorry," she murmured, turning away from him.

Edward felt bad for being so mean to her, he really did, but with all this crap about not being able to make a braid and the fact his head was still aching, he decided not to worry about her. He quickly grabbed the hair tie again and began the tedious process of trying to form a braid once more, moving more carefully and taking his time.

He was able to twist his hair five times before the locks slipped through his fingers. Snarling, a sound that was more a sob than growl, Ed drew his knees up, propping his arms on them and burying his face in his flesh arm. "Dammit, dammit, dammit… I can do this, dammit, I just gotta keep trying… I can, I just…" He sighed a broken sigh, keeping his eyelids shut tight against the saltwater that tried to leak out. "I can't."

Forcefully, Edward reached back to grab his hair, but was stopped by the feel of fingers already their. Soft, warm fingers trailed through his golden hair, gently brushing out any snarls and moving up to his scalp.

Turning back, he saw Winry kneeling down right behind him, a soft little knowing smile on her face. "W-what are you doing?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound firm, but failing miserably; he sounded very young and confused, his eyes large and somewhat covered by his long bangs.

"Helping," she said, "now turn around."

Muttering under his breath at her though he didn't mean a word of it, he crossed his arms and let her continue her work. He felt her fingers catch in a knot, untangle it, then continue to move throughout his hair. They traveled over his scalp, her nails gently scraping against it, and though he tried to stop it, a soft growl of enjoyment escaped his throat. Winry laughed, her fingers moving down to the little baby hairs near his neck, and she proceeded to play with them, fingers softly pulling and twining around the tresses. Against his will, Ed sighed, his eyes slipping shut.

As he stared into the blackness of his closed lids, Edward felt Winry suddenly begin twisting his hair, her fingers sure and quick, skilled. She made a few more interlaces, then pulled at the braid, making sure it was just right, not tight but not too loose either. Satisfied, she reached down, and her fingers were suddenly on his flesh ones, pulling the black hair tie from them, then quickly tying his braid.

Edward had been aware of her the whole time, but what he didn't want to admit was just how much he'd been conscious of her; he'd been able to feel her breathing on the back of his neck, her arms sometimes brushing his shoulders, and he'd liked it. He opened his eyes and lifted a hand to his braid, his left fingers gently brushing over Winry's handiwork: it was better than

anything he'd ever be able to do. Silently, and appreciatively, he turned to look at her.

Winry beamed brightly at him. "Is it okay?"

He nodded slowly, faintly smiling. "It's great. How long did it take you to…?"

"A few times to braid someone else's hair. It took me over a week to braid my own, I think."

"A week?" he whined.

She nodded solemnly. "Yup. But I didn't give up. And neither will you."

Edward was amazed at how much faith she had in him, but before she could really see just how much this meant to him, he looked away from her, throat suddenly tight and thick. "Thank you."

Winry placed a hand on his shoulder, gently leaning her head against his for a moment. "I know you can do it."

And then she was gone. Edward watched as she picked up the basket of apples, not once stopping as she headed back to the house. Still, he didn't miss the very pretty smile she gave him as she went by.

A new determination inside him, Edward felt his trademark grin fall into place, because he knew he could get this. He would be able to braid his hair because she said he could.