A/N 1: This chapter was inspired by the song named Fávola (Fábula) by the Italian singer, Eros Ramazzotti. The song itself was inspired by Piktors Verwandlungen or Piktor's Transformations (La Metamorfosis de Piktor) written in 1922 by Hermann Hesse. Both the song and the story can be found online. The song reminded me of Edward and the change his character has taken along the course of this story of mine.

A/N 2: Finally! I finally managed to edit the chapter. So sorry for the long delay, I've had many obstacles thrown my way since the last time I posted. Anyway, this is a better version of the final chapter for the First Arc of Convergence. I wanted to reduce the word count but ended up having a bigger chapter than the original. You have now over 1 hour of reading material at your disposition. Also, check the Auhtor's Notes at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Warnings: This chapter contains crude language and racist and sexist ideology. It also has a decent amount of violence. Look at the end notes for more info. Read at your own discretion.

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Earth, March 26th, 1940 A.D — Late Morning

It felt nice; the wind against the face, the way the hair swung wildly, just like golden wheat on rolling fields. Winry inhaled deeply taking in the fresh country air and smell of gasoline pumping through Betsy's intricate engine system.

"Wow!" she cried out, overjoyed by the sheer beauty of everything. "Isn't this great?!" she added as she looked at her companion. Mavis, who was sitting on the passenger seat, offered a tight smile in response.

"Aw, c'mon, Mavis! Don't be like that!" Winry said, having found the facial expression funny. Mavis grumbled something under her breath and then shook her head.

"Miss Winry, I think this test run of yours has been a success, so please, let's go back to the estate before Master Edward notices our absence."

Winry's nose scrunched up upon hearing Edward's name and his pompous title. "Edward can go screw himself for all I care," she grumbled petulantly.

Mavis had the puzzled look of a person who didn't quite catch what was said. Winry also found this funny.

"Didn't you say that the pantry needed to be restocked now that the Master's children were in the house?" she said, trying her hand at the Southern accent by mocking Edward in the process.

Mavis wasn't amused. "That's what James is there for," she spat, "And, you shouldn't be talking about the Master that way." She shook her head, adding, "Honestly, child, what's gotten into you?"

"You said that James was running an errand and wouldn't be back until much later," Winry retorted a bit irritated. She glanced at the older woman and scowled once her eyes were back on the road. Why couldn't Mavis understand her point of view?

Clutching the steering wheel hard, Winry stepped on the gas pedal. No one was going to ruin her perfect escapade.

Betsy roared with the sudden surge; Mavis held on to the side of the door, stiffing considerably.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" she cried, flashing an angry glare at Winry. But Winry didn't care.

"Betsy is a roadster, Mavis," she said in her defense. "She's meant to burn some rubber."

"You're insane!" Mavis screeched.

Winry's expression hardened upon that. Finally, she turned to Mavis, and said, "I'm not insane, I'm just pissed off."

A long, awkward silence followed that comment.

A few miles down the road, Winry began to notice the scenery of Highway 17 gradually changing from vast farmlands to a more urban environment as they neared the area called Portsmouth(1).

"So, where to?" Winry asked, deciding to put a stop to the silent treatment.

Mavis sighed. "We need to go to A&P(2) on High Street, that's where we get our groceries."

Winry noticed sadness, perhaps even pity, in the older woman's voice. She looked away, suddenly feeling exposed.

She kept driving.

The following road sign read as High Street. "Mavis, now what?" Winry asked, and when she didn't receive an answer she looked at the housekeeper.

Mavis was staring into the distance. She looked like she was in deep thought. Whatever she was thinking about wasn't pleasant seeing how her lips curled downwards.

"Mavis, we're on High Street," Winry repeated loud enough to snap the housekeeper out of her reverie.

Mavis blinked then gave out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, child, what were you saying?" Mavis was definitely acting weird, but now wasn't the time to start asking questions. "We're on High Street," Winry said. Mavis looked around to familiarize herself with the location. "Just keep driving, Miss Winry, A&P is located near the end of this street." Winry nodded.

One street block later, Winry decided to slow down and admire the urban scenery.

Red-brick buildings of different heights stood on either side of the street. Some buildings had stores, and Winry could observe the variety of wares being displayed behind large window panes. Other buildings looked like they served as apartment complexes, the small windows both enumerated the floors and the living units.

On the sidewalk, people went about their daily life. Mothers walked with their children, store owners tidied up the front of their businesses, and men in suits made haste as they rushed to their destination. In the end, this earthling city called Portsmouth wasn't all that different from Central.

Traffic slowed down four blocks later.

Winry got a chance to experience being stuck in a traffic jam surrounded by the haze of burning fossil fuel. It was annoying and suffocating, but oh, so exhilarating!

While she reveled in the experience, Mavis complained. The older woman abhorred pollution, or so she griped. Winry smiled to herself. Yes, the air was gross and polluted but it was also amazing. Mavis simply complained because she didn't know that this never happened in Central.

Thinking about comparisons led Winry back to Edward. His image had enough pull to erase the smile from her face.

I don't get you, Edward Elric, Winry thought, like she always did whenever Edward popped into her mind. Yesterday, he wanted to talk and she didn't let him. Had she made the right choice about turning him away? No, stop, she told herself. Edward has never opened up to you and never will. Winry shook her head to clear all thoughts of Edward.

She kept driving.

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The Annex — Midday

Edward didn't mean to slam the door to Alphonse's private office as hard as he did. He had been in a terrible mood since yesterday. The office was dark and desolate, oddly fitting too. Edward went to the desk and plopped on the chair. He leaned back, letting his head loll against the backrest. His head was killing him, his stomach felt like a rock and his eyes were on fire. At least he hadn't spent the night hugging the toilet like he had been expecting.

The past few days had been the worst of his adult life. Things had proven difficult after Benjamin senior's intrusion, but the unexpected arrival of Patricia and Benjamin junior turned out to be the proverbial cherry on top. Yes, things had turned out to shit, and as always, it was all of his own makings. Will he ever learn? Probably not seeing he was sinking deeper into this clusterfuck he called "life choices".

Winry hated him and now Patricia did too. Little Ben was too young to understand the mess his father had made otherwise he would be siding with his sister, of that Edward was certain. He counted himself lucky that Alphonse was still on his side.

Edward brought the automail arm across his forehead. Coldness bit into his skin, and he welcomed it. But what he truly wanted was rest, every fiber of his body agreed. Alphonse hadn't let him rest, and now he was in The Annex, wasting everyone's time.

As the minutes passed by, and the headache didn't let down, the urge to go home became stronger. Edward knew he could have James pick him up seeing Alphonse was tied up at the moment.

Edward motioned to pick up the receiver but stopped short. Letting his hand rest on the desk, Edward wondered if anyone even wanted him home. Not Patricia, that's for sure; Benjamin, perhaps. Winry? He gave a dry laugh, knowing the answer. But even if almost everyone didn't want him around, he wanted with them.

Edward picked up the receiver before his resolve waned. He ignored the operator's greeting, quickly giving her his security code and telephone number. He perked up when he heard ringing on the other side of the line.

"Good morning, you reached the Rockwell-Von Elric residence. How may I help you?"

Edward arched his brows, surprised that Mavis hadn't picked up the phone. He cleared his throat, and said, "This is Edward, with whom am I speaking to?"

A pause.

"Oh, Master Von Elric! It's Amelia, Amelia Steward," said the person on the other side of the line.

Amelia Steward? Edward felt slightly embarrassed for not recognizing the name. "Where's Mavis?" he said, deciding that putting a face to a name wasn't as important as knowing why the person in charge of the household hadn't picked up the telephone in the first place.

"Mavis is not here, sir."

Edward frowned. Mavis didn't mention she was going to be away. Could something have happened after leaving for The Annex?

"Where is she?" Edward asked. He had sounded perturbed but there was nothing he could do about it anymore.

"Mavis told me that she needed to go buy extra groceries because Miss Patricia and Little Ben were going to be staying over for a while."

Edward relaxed some, the maid's answer did make sense. As a senior staff member, Mavis was in charge of keeping the house well-stocked.

"So she's with James then." He let out a long, soundless exhale, resigning to the idea that he was going to be stuck in The Annex the entire day.

There was another pause.

"No, sir," Amelia finally said. "Today is Tuesday and Mister James runs errands that Master Alphonse had assigned to him. I believe he went to Richmond to pick up some wares at the airport."

What Amelia said made no sense. In the Rockwell Estate, there were only two cars available: the one that Alphonse drove to The Annex and the one that James used for carrying out errands—

No… Edward lowered the receiver, his body going tense. After a moment of hesitation, he held the receiver to his ear, and said, "Amelia, can you go to the garage and see if the old roadster is still there? I'll wait in the line while you check." He had tried to sound calm but was far from it.

"Sure thing, Master."

Edward heard Amelia put the phone down. He gulped, then undid his necktie with his natural hand.

Winry, you couldn't— There's simply no way she could've fixed that old lemon when everyone on that side of the Gate had failed to do so. Edward wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, knowing in his heart that she did.

A few minutes later, he heard rustling on the other side of the line. He sat ramrod straight on the chair and braced himself for the news.

"Master—"

"What did you find?"

"The garage is empty, sir."

Edward closed his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. It took a great deal of self-control not to snap the receiver in half with his automail. "Thank you." It was all he could manage to say without sounding like a brute.

Edward hung up the receiver. As he leaned back on the chair, he fixed his attention on a point in the distance. He was livid but also so—

Out of a sudden, a maniacal-sounding chuckle bubbled out of him.

"She did it, she actually fucking did it!" Edward cried into the empty office followed by another bout of hysterical laughter. He was laughing so hard that tears sprang from the corners of his eyes. Winry is really something, Edward thought as he dried his eyes.

And that fantastic woman who can make the impossible happen was out in the world doing God knows what at that very moment.

"Winry is going to be the death of me!" he grumbled, petulantly.

Edward hadn't given much thought to his words until he did, and the image of Winry bathed in crimson quickly made its way to the front of his mind. His blood chilled.

Winry knew next to nothing about the rules of that world, and she's out there with Mavis out of all people! His breath suddenly became dry and harsh in his throat. His brain froze in utter panic and he could not think.

In an act of utter desperation, Edward slammed his metal fist against the desk, denting the wood grain. "Fuck!" he hissed as he stared at the defaced piece of furniture. At least the outburst had helped him regain some focus. He started thinking.

Amelia, the maid, had said that Mavis went shopping for groceries. Mavis is picky and she only shops in A&P stores.

And the closest one is in Portsmouth!

Armed with this knowledge, Edward picked up the phone. This time, he instructed the operator to redirect the call to Wendy's private office.

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The Rockwell Estate — Midday

Patricia tip-toed into the hallway the moment she heard Amelia talking in the parlor. If for some reason she was caught in the process, she simply would say that she was heading to the kitchen to grab a snack. It was what she came downstairs to do anyway.

From what little she got from the conversation (seeing how she had just arrived downstairs) Patricia deduced that the maid was talking on the phone with her father. Thinking about that man made her temper sour. She was about to leave when Amelia left the telephone receiver next to the base instead of hanging it up. Patricia flattened against the wall as best as she could when said maid started for the front door.

What did Edward ask her to do? A boring occurrence had suddenly turned into an interesting something.

With Amelia gone, Patricia pushed away from the wall. She thought it best to find a hiding place closer to the parlor. Patricia decided that the sofa closest to it was the perfect hiding spot. She went behind the sofa and sat on her haunches and waited for the maid to come inside.

Amelia returned to the parlor a couple of minutes later, Patricia's legs were starting to get numb at that point too.

Amelia casually told Edward that the garage was empty. Patricia didn't get it at first but then she remembered that her Uncle's car was collecting dust in the garage. Things were interesting indeed.

Amelia hung up. Patricia peeked from behind the sofa to see in which direction the maid was heading. Amelia went towards the kitchen.

"Perfect," Patricia said to herself as there wasn't going to be extra detours.

She counted until sixty before leaving her hiding place and heading for the kitchen. She decided to look demure as she walked up to Amelia, who was working in the pantry.

"Miss Trisha, you scared me!" the maid said when she finally noticed her presence. She even brought a hand to her chest for a more dramatic effect.

"I'm so sorry!" Patricia replied. She waited for Amelia to say something in return, and when the maid didn't, she continued.

"I'm famished!" Patricia whined. "I'm going to wait for Mavis to hang up the phone—I sure am craving some apple pie."

Amelia gave her a puzzled look, and said, "Mavis' out dear." It was clear to Patricia that the maid had become suspicious of her story but didn't dare voice it.

"Oh!" Patricia continued with the farce. "Then who was it on the phone?"

Amelia offered a tense smile. "That was me taking with your father."

Patricia arched her eyebrows at that. The silence that followed urged the maid to continue.

"He wanted to know how things were here, nothing more."

Patricia held a fake smile, hating how the stupid maid had to be so tight-lipped.

Since Amelia wasn't speaking, Patricia decided to take a more blunt approach. "I saw you coming into the house when I came downstairs. What were you doing outside? Running an errand?" She stopped for a beat before adding, "Or slacking off?"

The maid's face went from guarded to downright outraged.

"None of the sort!" Amelia snapped back. "I was checking the garage as the Master requested."

Gotcha! Patricia put her hands on her hips, a smug smile spreading across her lips. "Why?" she simply asked.

Amelia opened her mouth and then closed it. Her scowling face was telling that she had been bested by a child. Patricia reveled in that knowledge too, adding insult to injury.

"Your father wanted to know if the car was inside. It wasn't." Her response was churlish as expected. Amelia smoothed the skirt of her dress. "Now, if you excuse me, I have work to attend to." Amelia turned around to face a shelf and began rearranging cans, completely ignoring Patricia in the process.

Patricia crossed her arms in front of her chest, frowning as she went over the findings. "But Mavis doesn't know how to drive," she said without thinking.

Amelia stopped what she was doing. "No, she doesn't," she said then continued working.

"And Mister James isn't home," Patricia responded, bemused. Benjamin had told her so earlier that morning.

Amelia let out a long, sighing breath. "Your father is aware of this." Amelia exhaled some more, then added, "Your father knows who took the car and Mavis with it. Are we done with the questions?"

Patricia nodded even though the maid couldn't have seen it. "Yes, Amelia," she mumbled. And with that, she left for her room, the snack forgotten.

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Patricia finished another magazine(3) in record time. She tossed it aside and plopped back to bed, sighing. She would've taken it slower if it wasn't for Bombay Nights(4). Stupid men writing about stupid love triangles.

Patricia pushed the unsavory thoughts aside, preferring to go back to the mystery of who took her Uncle's car.

She rolled her eyes shortly after. How could have she not seen it before? It was so obvious that her Uncle was the one who took Mavis into town.

But her inquisitive mind raised another question: Who fixed the damn car?

Patricia blew a raspberry. "Who cares?" she said, having decided she'd done enough sleuthing for one day.

Patricia looked at the time noting it was ten until two in the afternoon.

There was no bastard father in sight and no nosy uncle either. A smile spread across her lips.

Patricia got up and went to Edward's study where she can use the other telephone to her heart's content.

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Downtown Portsmouth, VA — Midday

Winry looked around, her jaw slightly slacking. She had never seen so many articles gathered together in one place. So this is what a supermarket is all about?

Everywhere Winry looked, she saw the same thing: evenly-spaced shelves taking up the length of the large warehouse; items sorted by both color and brand. To her knowledge, there was nothing close to resembling a supermarket back in Central City, least in Resembool.

As Winry followed Mavis around the supermarket, the more she thought the space to be unnatural. Perhaps it was her country-girl ideologies doing the thinking for her, but she just couldn't see past the air of irony the place was giving off. Who in their right mind would put contraceptives next to baby items? And the sallow look cast off by the incandescent lighting didn't help either. The supermarket atmosphere might feel unnatural, but people shopping inside, they were a different beast entirely.

Winry inched closer to Mavis who just stopped to pick some tomatoes. "What's with the looks?" she whispered.

Mavis didn't answer right away. Apparently debating which tomato was plumper took far more priority. Finally, the housekeeper was done with the tomatoes. She turned to Winry and said, "Miss Winry, they're not used to seeing a white woman helping a black woman while she shops for groceries." Mavis then placed the tomatoes inside the grocery basket Winry was carrying.

Winry blinked. Her own bewilderment and surprise were overlaid by shock. Feeling suddenly conscious, she looked around again. Immediately, she caught some people staring at them. A young mother started pulling her son by the arm when he asked her why the "Pretty lady is dressed like a man." Winry looked down at her clothes. Was it that offensive to be wearing overalls in public? She also caught the word 'negro' a few times. What does that even mean? Winry searched Mavis' face for answers but the older woman was looking away. Even without looking at Mavis' face, Winry could tell the woman was holding on to a sentiment of restrained anger. A sharp pang of emotion struck her and she opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. Winry ended up shutting her mouth close.

More people cast disapproving looks their way as they walked. Winry squeezed the handle of the basket until her knuckles turned white. "Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer!" she yelled, finally confronting the onlookers. Some people stared at her in shock while others murmured that she was insane. Winry wanted to throw some crude words right back at them, but restrained herself from doing so, thinking that they weren't worth the bother.

Mavis stared at her, a look of pity crossing her usually jovial features. It was infuriating.

"How much longer, because I want to leave this place," Winry snapped, having found her voice.

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The Rockwell Estate — Early Afternoon

"Oh, hime, my hime(5), your voice is like music to my ears!" Patricia rolled her eyes, feeling rather embarrassed by such corniness.

Smiling into the telephone speaker, she replied with a "How is my prince doing today?"

"Much better now that I get to hear your voice." There was something about Junpei's velvety voice that made Patricia swoon.

"So I take it that the coast is clear?" Junpei followed.

"Very clear," Patricia replied, smiling some more and twisting the telephone cable around her fingers.

"Have you heard the news?"

Patricia blinked at the question. "What news?"

"I also got suspended from school."

Patricia leaned forward in the chair and rested her elbows on the desk. A pause followed in which Patricia debated if her boyfriend was trying to pull a fast one in her or was telling the truth. "What did you do, Jun?" she finally said, curious to know what had happened.

Patricia could feel Junpei smirking on the other side of the line. "Nothing too serious," Junpei said, and paused, most likely to mess with her. "I simply lifted sister Margaret's habit over her head."

Patricia burst out in laughter. She remembered that she was in her father's office without permission so she toned it down to low giggles. "Please, tell me you're joking!" she said, falling into another laughing fit when the image of the squealing nun crossed her mind.

"My old man is still blowing a fuse over the whole thing."

"No kidding!" Patricia chortled. "So, how badly are you grounded?"

"I'm supposed to stay in my room at all times, except for eating or going to the bathroom." Patricia shook her head, knowing her boyfriend got away easy.

"How about you?" The question snapped her out of her musings.

Patricia hadn't considered this until now. "I'm not grounded yet," she responded. She fell silent all of a sudden, realizing that she had completely gotten off the hook because of the incident with doppelgänger.

"Hey, hime, are you still there?"

Patricia was jolted out of her reverie and was floundering for an answer. She settled for a "Yeah, I'm still here."

Her answer must've sounded unconvincing because Junpei added, "Did something happen?"

Most people saw Junpei Albright Fujiwara as a good-for-nothing punk, but that was only because those idiots couldn't see the kind, caring gentleman hiding behind the 'tough guy' exterior.

"Ouji-sama(6)," Patricia began but her voice quieted when the image of Winry came to mind. After a few moments, she found breath and voice again. "A lot has happened in this house, but I don't want to talk about it over the phone." Patricia went quiet after that.

After a few moments, Junpei said, "Hime, get ready. I'm going to pick you up in a half hour."

Patricia was holding the phone, stunned and stupid, trying to understand what Junpei just mentioned. And once she got it, she said, "Won't you get into more trouble?"

"Worried about moi? How cute," he chuckled.

Patricia felt a fierce blush creeping up her face. "I'm not cute," she grumbled.

"You are, hime, you just don't want to admit it," Junpei added. Patricia imagined Junpei with one of his smug grins plastered across his face. Her face flushed deeper.

"Go, put on some pants, because I'm taking the bike."

Patricia's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Okie-dokie!" she said in a cute voice and heard Junpei chuckle on the other side of the line.

"That's my girl," he said before hanging up.

Patricia gingerly replaced the receiver on the base. She was so enthralled with the prospect of seeing Junpei that she didn't see her brother slipping into the room. She jumped when he spoke.

"Trish, dad will get mad if finds out you're spending time with a boy."

After recovering from the scare, Patricia stared down at her brother. "I dare you, Ben. Go on, go tell on me, see if I care." Benjamin frowned but didn't answer. Patricia found the lack of response amusing. "You know, dad will take it out on you if you tell on me." It was a fib, but one that wasn't far away from the truth. The way Benjamin's blue eyes grew with sudden fear told Patricia that he believed this to be true. She felt a sudden prick of guilt for being so mean to her precious little brother, so she got up and approached him.

"I promise to bring you a treat after I come back," she said in a soft voice while ruffling Benjamin's soft locks. After she was done messing up his hair, Benjamin looked up and nodded, thus reaching an unspoken agreement.

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Downtown Portsmouth, VA — Early Afternoon

Winry walked separately from Mavis as they walked back to the roadster. A couple of people on the street were staring at her but not at Mavis. Their scrutiny made Winry shoot back nasty glares at them.

Mavis insisted on carrying the bags and Winry let her. It took an enormous effort on her part to concede too. Pride hadn't been the motivator but her innate willingness to help others.

Mavis waited by Betsy. She looked quite composed despite having been the subject of ridicule back at the supermarket. Winry fished out the car keys from one of her pockets. She frowned when thinking how desensitized a person must be to remain so level-headed. She returned her attention back to the present moment and unlocked the trunk. The space was narrow but it had to make due.

Winry motioned to grab the groceries from Mavis' hands. Mavis took a step back. "I got this, child," she said in a calm tone. Winry stared hard at her but let go of the bags.

Mavis started placing the groceries inside the trunk as best as she could. She ended up moving some things around to make up for the lack of space. Winry stood there, staring, while a deep sense of hatred started coloring her thoughts.

"How can you do it?" Winry asked, breaking the small silence that had gotten between them. "How can you not be angry?" Mavis stared at her as if she had grown another head. But after a moment, she spoke.

"Miss Winry, I don't know in what world you think you live in, but in this one, this is how things are—have always been." The comment made Winry snort in disdain. After that, they both fell back into silence.

Winry got in the car as Mavis locked up the trunk. She was dying to get back into her room and staying there for an indefinite time. Winry choked Betsy then turned on the ignition. Nothing. She frowned. She choked the car and tried again. Betsy didn't even make a noise.

"Not now!"

Winry tried the ignition one more time but Betsy wasn't responding. She started hammering the steering wheel out of sheer frustration.

Winry brought her hands over her nose and mouth and took some calming breaths. Mavis had approached her by then.

"Is everything alright?" Mavis asked.

Winry lowered her hands and glared after having heard such a stupid question.

"I need to get out of the car," she spat seeing how Mavis was in the way. Mavis moved away and Winry got out. She popped the hood open and looked around to see if there was anything loose, leaking, or jammed. Everything looked fine, so why was Betsy acting like a spoiled little brat? Winry slammed the hood back in place and took a step back. She fisted a bunch of hair as she stared at the dammed roadster.

"We can use the telephone booth next to A&P," Mavis said, matter-of-factly. The sensible suggestion made Winry want to scream.

The last thing she wanted was to ask anyone—especially Edward—for help. But seeing she couldn't find what was wrong with the car, she had no choice but to concede. "Fine," she said, the word tasting bitter on her tongue.

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The Annex — Early Afternoon

Alphonse slammed the door open, making Edward jump from the sudden intrusion.

"I got here as fast as I could!" Alphonse cried in between gasps. He went past Edward and opened the top left drawer.

Edward couldn't help but glare when he saw the car keys in his brother's hand. All this time the car keys had been at his disposition—

"You just could've told me the keys were in the damned drawer," he snapped in annoyance, thinking of the minutes he could've saved if Alphonse would've told him this information in the first place.

"I know, Brother. That's why I didn't tell you."

Edward frowned at that. "And what in blazes is that supposed to mean?"

Alphonse pocketed the keys in his pants pocket. "It means that you're not driving."

Edward gaped at his brother. "What the hell?"

"You're angry, Ed, which means you're in no condition to drive." Alphonse took the lab coat off but made sure to keep his ID card handy as he was going to need it as they leave The Annex.

Edward scoffed, but he couldn't deny that his brother was right. "What about work?" he asked.

Alphonse paused at that. "Work can wait," he said shortly after. "Make sure you have your ID on you—unless you want to waste more time by coming back here to retrieve it."

Edward took out his wallet and verified that the ID was in there. He gazed at Alphonse and gave him a firm nod, secretly thanking him for being the level-headed brother.

"Okay, let's go," Alphonse said, already in the hallway.

Edward locked the door behind him.

"So, Winry fixed the roadster?" Alphonse said as they rushed towards the parking lot.

"Oh yeah, she did."

Alphonse chuckled. A few moments later he added, "Winry is truly amazing."

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Downtown Portsmouth, VA — Early Afternoon

Ugh—what a horrible man! Winry thought as she bust open the front doors of the A&P. People kept staring as if she was a circus freak, but at that point, Winry didn't care, she just wanted to return to the estate and forget that awful day had ever happened.

"Miss Winry?"

Mavis' voice brought Winry back to the present moment.

"That stupid store manager refused to help us because apparently, I scare customers away," Winry explained.

Mavis didn't reply, not even to disagree with her. Mavis' silence felt worst than a slap to the face.

"I'm sure we can find another telephone booth along the way," the older woman said a few beats later. Winry clenched her jaw to keep herself from screaming.

Winry hated the suggestion. Walking down the street meant more staring, and she had her fill of it. Winry looked around for alternatives, her gaze stopping at the diner across the street.

"King's Korner Kafeteria?" Winry mumbled to herself, wondering why the owner chose such odd spelling(7). She shrugged it off as being an earthling thing.

Winry left Mavis' side and headed for the diner.

"Miss Winry!" Mavis called out. "Miss Winry!" But Winry ignored her.

Winry made it to the diner. By the entrance, in bold and in black, was a sign that read: NO COLOREDS. Winry frowned not fully understanding the warning but having an inkling of what it meant. Right then, she debated about entering the establishment.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Mavis said, heaving, after crossing the street in haste. "Can't you read?" she added in an accusatory tone.

Mavis' nagging tipped the scales.

"Of course I can read!" Winry lashed out like a teenager that had been scolded way too many times.

The sudden outburst stunned the older woman. Winry looked away in shame, she hadn't meant to have sounded so angry. She worried her lower lip.

"I'm going ask them if I can use the phone, or at least have someone point us to the nearest working one," Winry finally said after regaining her composure.

Mavis' expression was unreadable. Winry glanced at Mavis one more time before pushing on the glass door.

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The clanking of the bell welcomed Winry in. The greasy smell of fried food was heavy in the air. Upbeat tunes of what she had come to know as 'jazz' emerged from the far back.

Winry took stock of the people inside the diner, all patrons were light-skinned. "Forget this," she grumbled, she can find someone to help her somewhere else.

"What I can do for you, hon?" called out a woman when she was about to push the door open.

Winry stopped. The diner might have questionable rules but she supposed there had to be someone in there with some redeemable qualities, perhaps the woman greeting her would be the one. Winry turned around.

Red hair bunched up in tight curls, a face covered in freckles as if they'd been sprayed on purposely; thin long physique that reminded Winry of a twig. Flo. Even the name written in the pinned tag was oddly fitting.

The woman eyed her from head to toe the same way Winry had been doing.

"Um, yes, Flo," Winry began, deciding to be polite despite the scrutiny. "I was wondering if I can use your telephone, you see our car isn't working and we're trying to call home—"

"What the hell does that negro think she's doing?" cried out a man sitting in the farthest booth. Then, said man began wiggling out of his seat while grumbling, "Imma tell that bitch to go beg somewhere else."

"Sit down, Red," Flo warned. This 'Red' fellow glared at Flo in defiance. Flo raised her eyebrows in response.

After a few seconds of staring, Red sat down, waving off a hand as if to disregard what had transpired between them in the first place.

Only after Red settled down, Flo breathed a small sigh of relief. Then, she looked past Winry, past the glass door, at Mavis. When she returned her attention back to Winry, she said, "Hon, as you can tell by now, I have my hands full dealing with customers. I think is best that you leave."

Winry didn't question the waitress having understood perfectly well what she was implying. "I'll try next door," she said in response.

"Look at the getup on this one!" hollered the man closest to them. Said man elbowed the person sitting next to him. Cackling, he said, "she gone look like yer cousin Chuck!"

The man that was elbowed studied her. "Shut yer trap, Carl! She ain't look like Chuck."

The 'Carl' fellow chortled. "She looks better in pants than he ever will, that's for sure!" Winry's face glowed red with humiliation.

"Wait a minute fellas," said yet another man. Winry glowered at the new intruder, and when she did, she recognized him being in the supermarket when she and Mavis were shopping for groceries. The man had been one of the few people who complained about their presence inside the establishment.

"This one caused quite the commotion back at the A&P," he sneered.

"How so?" asked Carl.

"She was helping the negro standing outside"—he pointed towards Mavis—"with the grocery shopping as if she was the servant and not the other way around."

When he finished, everyone's eyes were fixed on Winry.

"Then, she began blabbing something about pictures like a raving lunatic," the tattletale added.

Winry started shaking from sheer anger. "Shut up," she said, but in her rage, her voice came out muffled. Winry swallowed hard and tried again. "SHUT UP!" This time her voice shot out like a lioness roar, and everyone was stunned into silence.

But Winry was just getting started.

"You lot are a sorry excuse for a human being," she said, taking advantage of the situation to unleash all the hurt that had been pent up inside so far.

"How dare you think you're above someone else based on the color of a person's skin? And I'm wearing pants: big fucking deal!" Her throat was becoming dry, and she swallowed to moisten it. "There's nothing wrong with a woman wearing pants, they're comfortable and they're convenient, and yes"—she looked at the man named Carl—"they look better on women than they do on men!"

All of a sudden the door leading to the kitchen shot open. It was the cook.

"Get the fuck out of my establishment, nigger-lover!"

The crazy look in the cook's eyes, and not his words, cut short her tirade.

Flo stepped between the cook and Winry.

"Please do as he says, hon. He gets violent when he loses his temper." Flo's eyes were pleading, and Winry nodded in acknowledgment.

Winry slipped away, leaving those awful people behind.

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Downtown Portsmouth, VA — Afternoon

"Take the Court Street exit. It should be coming up soon," Edward all but barked at Alphonse. Sadly, those had been the only words spoken between the brothers during the ten miles they'd been traveling down State Road 460.

Alphonse glared at Edward but said nothing.

Edward took out his pocket watch and noted it was almost one in the afternoon. He grunted softly.

Logic dictated that Winry and Mavis finished shopping and were heading back to the estate. He would be corroborating this once he talked with the employees of A&P. Said employees no doubt would offer him awkward smiles as they told their tales. Some of them might think him a stalker for asking about the two women while others would take him for a harmless crackpot.

And that would be the end of it—because there was no way Winry was in any real danger lest slated to die in this godforsaken world.

"Winry's fine, Brother," Alphonse said as if he'd been poking around in his mind.

Edward contemplated his brother's words for a moment, then said in a somber tone, "I hope you're right, Little Brother, I hope you're right."

"For crying out loud—!" Alphonse's cry of frustration reverberated inside the car. "Ed, you can't keep on living like this! God—dammit!"

Edward gaped at his brother in utter disbelief not understanding why Alphonse decided to harangue him for sharing his opinion on the subject. After a long pause (which he used to regain his composure) he spoke.

"Winry went out with Mavis who is black. Think about how she will react when she sees the way strangers treat that poor woman. You know Winry as well as I do, she will flip out at the tiniest sight of injustice." Edward stopped momentarily to consider something. "And sure I hope she didn't go out wearing those damned overalls, because that is something that's going to bring unwanted attention."

Alphonse rolled his eyes at Edward. "I'm not an idiot, Ed," he spat. "I remember Winry's temper very well." He let out a tired sigh. "And about her clothing . . . maybe people won't care."

Edward couldn't help but laugh dryly at that.

Alphonse took the ramp to Court Street. After entering the new road, he continued.

"Just because Winry has a temper doesn't mean that something bad will actually happen to her."

Edward frowned recalling how vexed Winry had been of late—his fault, of course.

"Look, Ed, we will be arriving at A&P in a couple of minutes." Alphonse stepped on the gas pedal to get there a little faster. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, okay?" he added, trying his best to appease his older brother.

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The Rockwell Estate — Afternoon

Patricia hummed softly to the tune of her favorite song. She even tried to match the tune to the rocking of the chair. It was one of those things she's done since she was a child, though her mother did the humming . . . and the rocking. The silly little thing also had a way of calming her when she was worried and lifting her when she was feeling glum.

Her sweet reverie was suddenly interrupted by a loud rumbling.

Junpei, Patricia thought, recognizing the sound of the motorcycle. A smile blossomed on her lips.

Patricia got off the rocking chair. Junpei had just passed through the main gate and was heading to the front of the estate. She started for the steps but stopped.

Remembering that there were other people in the estate, Patricia turned around to see if one of them had decided to check what was causing all that ruckus. She kept her golden eyes trained on the curtains for any signs of movement, but everything was still. Not even the resemblance of a person's shadow was in sight.

Patricia sighed in relief, but then, out of nowhere, she felt a pang of sadness.

Things would've been much different if her mother had been around. Patricia caught her pained reflection on the window pane. She quickly fixed this by putting on her biggest smile.

Junpei came to a full stop but kept the motorcycle running, there was no point in turning off the bike seeing he was there to pick her up and go.

Patricia tucked in a loose curl behind her hair as she descended the steps; a smiling Junpei slid his goggles up on his helmet to have a better view.

Junpei's eyes, despite resembling a moonless night, lit up as she approached him. Patricia fought off the blush that started creeping up her face as best as she could. It wasn't working though, so she tried focusing on something else, like the funny-looking chunks of hair sticking out from underneath Junpei's helmet. But as she stared, she realized that Junpei could make crazy wind-swept hair look good.

Patricia didn't realize that her efforts backfired, she went from casual staring to straight-up gawking. And who could blame her? Junpei looked like a movie star, a leading man, one of the handsome ones, the kind girls swoon over for. But this mere observation ran much deeper if she was being sincere with herself. Unwittingly, and on his own, Junpei had taken the imaginary role imposed on him and given it a personal touch. She loved how dashing Junpei looked in his signature black leather jacket and how imposing he looked while riding his motorcycle. Even the paint job on his bike worked in his favor. The flames painted on the headlight, gas tank, and exhaust pipes of the bike, gave Junpei a mystical flair—as if he had the power to bend fire to his will.

"Your prince is at your service," Junpei said, giving an exaggerated bow from his seat. Patricia chuckled at the silliness of it.

Junpei handed Patricia the spare helmet. Patricia held it behind her back and leaned over. "Ouji-sama," she whispered before pressing her lips against his.

Junpei stiffened from the sudden gesture, but soon relaxed, and dug his hand into Patricia's hair, deepening the kiss. A few beats later, he gently pulled away from the kiss, and said, "Let's get out of here."

Patricia nodded, smiling. She hopped on the back of the motorcycle, fastened her helmet, then wrapped her arms around her leading man.

And they took off with a loud roar.

Patricia didn't look back, not even once, as they left the estate behind.

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Downtown Portsmouth, VA — Afternoon

Mavis kept looking over her shoulder as they walked. They have been walking for ten minutes straight trying to find a phone booth that actually worked. Winry stopped all of a sudden, and she almost ran into the blonde.

"Finally!" Winry cried as she pointed to a telephone booth residing on the adjacent block. Mavis' brow furrowed.

To get to the phone booth, they had to cross a long dark alley. "Let's keep going, Miss Winry," she said and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Winry asked confused by her actions.

"Let's go around instead," Mavis said despite knowing that her answer wouldn't sit well with the young woman.

And just as expected, Winry protested.

"We can get to the booth quicker if we go through the alley!"

Mavis let out a tired sigh. "Child, don't you ever learn?" The words had slipped out of her brain. Winry's blue eyes narrowed to slits, clearly offended by the comment. Mavis sighed again.

She wasn't trying to be difficult. She could tell that Winry was as emotionally drained as she was. Cutting through the alley sounded like a great idea, but in reality, no respectable lady would willingly head into such dangerous places when there were other alternatives available.

"Mavis, it's a damn alley, they're meant to be shortcuts so people don't have to go the long way around," Winry insisted.

"I'm sorry, Miss Winry, but I'm not going in there," Mavis said, shaking her head, and secretly praying that her stubbornness would dissuade the young woman from going into that cursed passage.

Winry stared at her with a pinched look on her face. The expression was unnerving; God only knows what the girl was thinking. Mavis didn't have to wait long for the answer.

"Fine, you can wait here," Winry spat before heading into the alley.

Mavis sighed again, giving up, knowing that Winry was going to do what she damned pleased anyway. But as she watched Winry marching towards the distance, she felt a pang of guilt. Even though no one had appointed her to the role, she felt in charge of that petulant child. Master Edward would be quite disappointed in her if he found out that she had been disregarding her role. Mavis let out a frustrated grunt as she set her worries aside. She followed the young woman into the alley.

If Mavis hadn't been so engrossed in her thoughts, she would've noticed the two men watching her from behind one of the cars parked on the other side of the street.

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The letters that made up "King's Korner Kafeteria" rattled along with the glass when Edward slammed the door open. Had more force been applied, the glass door would've shattered to bits. The bell attached to the door's frame wasn't so lucky. The bell got ripped from the base and ended up crashing into the floor with a loud clang.

The people in the diner instantly looked up from their plates, some even stopped eating altogether as they watched Edward with looks of disbelief.

"What on God's Earth do you think you're doing!" Flo yelled from the back of the room where she'd been taking someone's order.

"The manager of the A&P told me that a young blonde woman and her black companion came this way earlier," Edward said, surly. What he didn't tell the waitress was how he'd gotten the information out of the bigoted asshole back in A&P.

The door to the kitchen area burst open. The cook stomped his way up to Edward.

"I told that nigger-lover to take a hike!" the cook barked as he stared down at Edward.

"You what?" Edward hissed, holding the man's stare and countering with one of his own. There was a significant difference in height between them, which made Edward's mood worsen, but height wasn't going to deter him from extracting information out of this new brute.

"I told that nigger-lover to take a hike, and now I'm telling the same thing to you," the cook replied with a smirk. He motioned to grab Edward by the shoulder. But Edward sidestepped, causing him to stagger as he missed his mark.

That little stunt earned Edward a nasty glare and a threat.

"You're fucking done." The cook had barely finished his words when he tried sucker-punching Edward in the face.

Edward expected something like this to happen. He could've 'bob and weave' to avoid the punch, but decided not to. He remained in place, waiting for the fist to get close. Edward brought up his automail when it was about to connect with his face. The fist hit the palm of his hand dead center, making a sickening sound as flesh and bone met solid metal. Edward didn't give the cook a chance to react, he curled his metal fingers around the man's hand, securing it in place.

Everything had happened too fast for the cook to respond adequately. Edward had seen shock and confusion take over the man's features when he realized he had hit something hard, then came pain and fear. The cook yanked at his hand, trying to get it free, but Edward's grip tightened around the fist. A slurry of curses and threats spilled out of the cook's mouth. His tantrum turned into howling after a series of loud cracks. It was only after hearing the final sickening sound that Edward let go of the man's hand.

The cook fell to his knees, cradling his hand, whimpering, as he stared wide-eyed at the misshapen fingers.

Edward wasn't proud of what he did but this man deserved the punishment. He stared at the cook some more before deciding on turning on a heel and head for the exit. He would try other places along the way, hoping that someone had seen Winry and Mavis. Perhaps this someone has already helped them out of the kindness of their hearts.

"Wait!" Flo called out all of a sudden. Edward stopped and turned around.

"The telephone next to the supermarket is broken but there's another one three blocks south from here. A young lady fitting your description headed in that direction with her companion when she left from here, so there's a good chance she might've found it along the way."

"How long ago was this?" Edward asked.

"About fifteen minutes ago."

Flo looked apologetic enough for Edward to say, "Thank you."

The glass door rattled again when it got slammed open a second time.

Alphonse entered the diner, his hopeful expression changing to one of horror as he took in the scene before him. He knew Edward was on edge but seeing the sorry state of the man on the floor upset him. He was about to reprimand Edward for his actions when the cook cut him off.

"I hope you find a bloody mess, you freak," he said, sneering and glaring at Edward.

"What did you just say?" Edward countered.

"My boys decided to teach those two bitches a lesson and I sure hope they hurt them good."

Edward's rage fizzled upon hearing those words.

Alphonse watched as his brother turned pale, and so did the cook.

The man started cackling despite being in visible pain, no doubt feeling vindicated for having suffered a broken hand. "Go, run! Save them if you can! Little good that's going to do!" he jeered then laughed some more.

Even Alphonse was stunned by the man's gall. His eyes met his brother's who by now had acquired a haunted look as if was seeing death itself. Alphonse himself was starting to panic, but he focused on remaining as calm as the situation allowed—one of them had to!

"Ed, snap out of it!" he cried, and when Edward didn't react, he added, "We can still save her!"

That seemed to do the trick. Edward blinked a few times before his eyes met Alphonse's.

"Tell me you got something," Alphonse followed, while at the same time trying to hold on to a dissolving hope.

"They headed South," Edward said as he regained his composure. A few moments later, he rushed out of the diner in that direction.

Alphonse let out a long breath before directing his attention to the cook. He crouched in front of the cook, and said in the coldest tone, "Pray that those two women are safe because they won't find your bodies if they've been harmed in any shape or form."

After that, Alphonse stood up and left the establishment, sprinting to catch up with his older brother.

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"Miss Winry, wait up!"

Winry grunted upon hearing Mavis calling. She was already halfway down the alley, a bit more, and she would reach the telephone. And all will be over, she thought bitterly as she marched on.

"Winry Rockbell, stop!"

Being scolded like a child made Winry take a momentary pause.

Things had turned sour between Mavis and her, still, if she was going to be treated like a child, then she was going to act like one. Winry waited for the older woman to catch up but not before rolling her eyes as a comeback of sorts. She heard Mavis' steps getting closer, so she turned around.

Winry's plan fell through in an instant. Two men were creeping up behind Mavis. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. One man was taller than the other, but she recognized them to be the jerks from the diner.

Mavis' brow dipped in confusion. She stopped and turned around. And froze.

"Oh no…" Winry muttered sensing that things were going to get ugly, fast.

"Woo-wee!" As if on cue, screeched the shorter man, sounding like a pig.

"Woo-wee!" hollered the other in a similar fashion.

Mavis staggered backward, her demeanor clearly affected by the animalistic sounds.

Winry's heart raced. She looked over her shoulder to calculate how far they both were from the exit. She trusted she could make it out with ease, but Mavis—

"Get help!" Mavis cried, probably thinking the same thing and coming to the same conclusion.

"RUN!"

Winry finally reacted. She took off. As she ran away, images of Barry the Chopper began intruding into her already agitated mind. A loud scream pierced through, breaking the spell. Winry came to an abrupt stop.

"Whoo-wee! I gots me a nigger!"

Winry shuddered at the words. She turned around, slowly, fearing what she would see.

Mavis was being held captive by the taller man. Winry's eyes rounded when she caught a glint of light bouncing off a blade. The man pressed the sharp edge of the blade against Mavis' neck. "You better fall in line, girl, if not, I'm cutting this bitch's throat!"

Winry let out a whimper. For a brief second, she saw Barry slicing Edward with a cleaver. She was aware it had been a trick of the mind, but regardless, her legs suddenly felt like jelly, and if she wasn't careful, they would buckle, and she would end up on the ground. Winry squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head to cast out the frightening images distorting her senses.

A third man entered the alley.

"Keep an eye on the street, Red!" commanded the shorter man. He then turned his attention to Winry and said, "Get yer ass back here!"

Winry was able to put a name to the face once she heard him speak. His name is Carl, she reminded herself.

The lanky man pulled Mavis' head back by yanking at her hair. Winry got a better view of the knife against the neck.

She swallowed hard and did as told—for Mavis' sake.

"Please let her go," Winry said once she was near the men.

Carl cocked an eyebrow. "You sure are a nigger-lover, ain't ya?" Carl then looked at Mavis and asked, "What's she to ya? Are ya lovers or something?"

Winry gritted her teeth, realizing right at that moment how much she despised that horrible man.

"She's my master's wife!" Mavis cried, and the answer made both men cackle.

"This one's married?—get outta here!" the man holding Mavis captive guffawed. He carelessly nicked Mavis' skin while amid his own amusement.

"Her husband mustn't know that she's a fucking dyke!" Carl chortled.

Seeing Mavis' face scrunch up in pain and the trickle of blood running down her neck was enough incentive for Winry to break free from the ghosts of the past.

"SHUT UP!" she suddenly roared. "SHUT THE HELL UP!"

The men quieted down but kept their amused looks in place as they gave their full attention to Winry.

"Let her go or you'll be sorry!" Winry followed, hoping her tone was threatening enough for the men to heed the warning.

"Miss Winry don't do anything stupid, please!" Mavis cried.

"It's going to be fine, Mavis," Winry said, tearing her eyes away from the men for a moment and fixing them on Mavis. She offered the older woman a reassuring smile before returning her attention back to the two pigs.

"This will be over soon."

It was regrettable that the memory of Barry the Chopper had made Winry forget everything she's learned ever since that traumatic incident. But now, thankfully, she was in full control of her emotions and wasn't going to slip again.

Winry set her feet shoulder width apart with her strongest leg one step behind. She raised her fists at eyebrow level, the right one closest to her body.

The men started laughing. Winry let them savor the moment because they had no idea the mess they'd gotten themselves into.

"Look fellas, I think girly here wants to fight us!" said the lanky man.

Carl sized Winry up, then said, "I think you're right, Johnny." Then, he spat on the floor next to Mavis and added, "Fine, I'll take you on, bitch."

Winry would've preferred to fight Johnny first since he was the one brandishing a weapon, but his turn will come soon enough.

"Been wanting to bash your teeth in ever since you ruined my lunch," Carl said.

Winry calmly listened to the pointless drivel the way Izumi taught to.

Izumi Curtis had believed, like any other alchemist, in Equivalent Exchange. While there was still enough strength left in her, Izumi insisted on repaying Winry by teaching her self-defense, it was her way of saying thanks for having fitted Wrath with automail. At first, Winry was hesitant about learning martial arts thinking she was going to fail, but Izumi told her that she would only learn enough to get herself out of a tight situation. And after that explanation, she accepted the deal. Winry didn't think she would like the training as much as she did. Not only did she learn how to defend herself from common attacks, but she also went on to learn advanced military-grade combat techniques. Winry knew she wasn't acrobatic like Edward or skilled like Alphonse, but she could pull her own weight in a fight pretty well. She would forever be indebted to Izumi for showing her this remarkable path to self-discovery.

Winry steeled herself. Neither she nor Mavis was going to fall victim to these animals. Those three were going to be taught a lesson they'll never forget.

Carl took it upon himself to strike first. He launched at Winry with a right hook, and Winry jumped back to dodge it. The man ended up hitting the air, and his shocked expression was pure gold. Winry grinned smugly.

"What's wrong? I thought you wanted to put me in my place."

Carl's face twisted into a menacing snarl. He charged at Winry again with full force. This time Winry let him enter her space.

Carl was as predictable as they come, he swung another hook. Winry grabbed his arm and positioned herself in a way she would end up under him. Taking advantage of the momentum, Winry turned, facing Carl's direction, and launched him forward. The man flew across the alley, landing with a loud thud a few feet away.

Johnny had an incredulous look plastered all over his face, Carl would've too if he wasn't feeling so dazed.

All of a sudden, Johnny shoved Mavis hard against the wall as a means to get her out of the way fast. He then charged at Winry. He must've realized his thug friend wasn't getting up anytime soon.

Grappling and throwing weren't going to work this time around; Winry changed her approach. She round-kicked the man hard on the ribs once he was within reach. But one good kick wasn't enough to bring down a man like Johnny. Winry used the element of surprise to her favor and punched him above the belly button as hard as she could. Stepping back, Winry remembered how Russell had writhed in pain when she got him in that same spot the one and only time they sparred together.

Johnny fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his gut as he folded over. He too was out for the count.

And that would've been it if it wasn't for that one last thug that remained. Carl had called this man, Red.

Red left his post, wanting to join the action. An evil grin stretched across his lips as he pulled out a revolver.

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Edward ran. He dodged people when he could and pushed them out of the way when he couldn't. He could hear Alphonse apologizing to said people as he tried to catch up.

God, he hated being right, he couldn't help but think as he ran. He hoped to reach Winry in time before a tragedy struck.

The fucking cook had put real fear in him when he confessed what his buddies had planned for Winry and Mavis. Thankfully Alphonse was there to help him recover his senses.

Please be okay Winry… Edward told himself as he pushed on. Please be okay—because I won't be able to forgive myself if you die!

He ran for two blocks straight and still no sight of the women or the telephone booth. That intense sense of dread he felt back in the diner started to creep up again. Edward ran past an alley when he heard what sounded like an altercation. He skidded to a halt and ran back.

Alphonse had stopped in front of the alley; Edward joined him.

Suddenly, a gun went off.

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Winry's eyes grew big as she stared down at the barrel of the revolver in Red's hand.

"Let's see you dodge a bullet, bitch!"

"Oh, no, no, no! Dear God! no!" cried Mavis.

Carl joined the conversation by saying, "Shoot her!"

Her survival instincts went into overdrive. Winry gauged if she could manage to disarm the man without getting killed in the process. No such luck. She cursed under her breath realizing that there was too much distance between them to launch a successful attack—and the bastard probably didn't move closer for that same reason.

Winry froze when she heard a click, and let out a shuddering breath as it finally hit her that she was going to die. Her eyes welled up.

She never asked to be thrown into this situation—heck—she shouldn't have been in this world in the first place! She was going to die first, then Mavis, seeing how much hatred those men harbored in their hearts. They were both going to die in a filthy alley, far away from loved ones…

Winry let out a loud sob refusing to acknowledge that returning to Amestris was not meant to be. I'm so sorry, Russell, she thought, bitterly, as the image of her smiling fiancé crossed her mind, but then her thoughts inevitably drifted to Edward. "I'm so sorry…" she whispered, hoping the words would reach Edward. Another sob rolled past her lips. Oh, how she regretted letting pride get between them!

"Dammit, Red, what the fuck are you waiting for?"

Winry tensed up, the end was near.

"Oh, Miss Winry!" Mavis howled, sensing it herself.

Winry turned her sorrowful gaze at her in hopes Mavis would see how sorry she was for getting them both in this terrible predicament. But Mavis was a sniveling mess and ultimately didn't notice. It was a bitter pill to swallow and Winry forced it down as best as she could. Then, faced her executioner. I wonder, will it hurt? she thought before closing her eyes, accepting her fate.

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

The revolver went off, and Winry flinched.

No solid impact; only sounds of the bullet ricocheting in the alley. Life continued, unperturbed.

Winry snapped her eyes open. She instinctively touched her chest, arms, and face checking for signs of injury. Wasn't she supposed to feel pain by now if she had actually struck? Her eyes went to Red who had a shocked look upon his odious mug. Winry let out a small chuckle of relief. It looked like Red was a lousy shot.

"YOU ARE A FUCKING MORON! Carl screeched most insanely. "Shoot her again—and don't miss this time or I'll fucking kill ya!"

Winry should've taken advantage of the opportunity presented to knock Red down, but her body was frozen in place. She managed to snap out of it a bit too late. Red had already cocked the revolver and was aiming at her. Winry was certain that he wasn't going to miss twice.

"WINRY!"

The all-too-familiar voice echoed in the alley.

Winry saw Edward leaping in the air, tackling Red from behind.

The sudden attack made Red lose balance. The revolver flew off his hand, landing far away from him.

Edward grabbed Red by the shirt and threw a right cross to his face. Blood as vibrant as his name gushed out of Red's mouth. Red howled in pain. The way he was holding his jaw was a clear indicator that Edward had broken it.

Johnny, who was closer to Edward, got to his feet quick. He launched at Edward but was intercepted by Alphonse who'd rushed into the alley.

Carl scooted over the discarded revolver while Alphonse was busy handling Johnny and Edward was focusing on Winry.

With the revolver secured in his hand, he cocked it fast and shot at Winry even faster.

Winry shrieked at the sound of the gun going off. Edward gawked at Carl in utter disbelief.

Thankfully, Carl didn't have a steady hand. The bullet rushed past Winry and ended up breaking the window of a car parked on the other side of the street. Carl cocked the revolver again but the hammer got stuck. "Goddammit!" he cried as he threw the firearm away. He then pulled out a switchblade from a leather pocket attached to his belt.

Winry's breath hitched. Edward glared at him with an unhinged look in his eyes. He dashed towards Carl to wrestle the knife out of his hands.

Carl put on quite a fight, and Edward was struggling to get the upper hand. Then, all of a sudden, Edward grunted and went limp.

Winry started shaking. "Edward!"

"Brother!" Alphonse cried, having been alerted by Winry's screaming. Johnny took advantage of the situation and hit Alphonse on the side of the face, making him lose balance.

Carl started laughing as he pushed Edward off, the blade in his hand dark and wet. His triumphant expression made Winry choke on her words.

But Carl's was a short-lived victory for Alphonse managed to regain the advantage over Johnny.

Alphonse finished Johnny off with a rock-solid punch to the face. Johnny fell to his knees, his hands shielding his nose. The bitter tang of fresh blood could be tasted in the air.

Alphonse set sight on his new target.

Carl didn't wait for Alphonse to get close. He took off, leaving his friends behind.

"What a coward," Alphonse grumbled before giving chase.

Carl was about to make it to the other end of the alley but then he lost his balance. Alphonse had tackled him from behind. Carl landed on his face. Alphonse turned the man around and started pounding on him. Winry almost felt bad for Carl.

All of a sudden, Edward groaned. Winry snapped her head his way.

Edward unceremoniously moved to a sitting position. There was a large stain spreading from under his right armpit. The stain was dark but it wasn't blood.

Edward groaned again. "I'm too old for this shit."

Winry threw herself at him. "You're alive!" She cried out, first out of joy, then out of relief.

"Hey—!" Edward complained at first, but then he wrapped his arms around Winry, and added, "Yeah…" His voice was calm and reassuring.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Alphonse cried from afar. At the moment, he had Carl by the collar of his shirt, but after seeing his brother awake, he dropped him unceremoniously on the ground. Carl was out cold and wouldn't regain consciousness just yet.

Alphonse jogged back to Edward and Winry.

He knelt next to Winry, relief crossing his face. He motioned to hug the pair but stopped after realizing his hands were covered in blood. Alphonse took a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped his hands clean as best as he could. Then, he hugged them.

After a long moment of intimacy, he let go.

Alphonse looked down when he felt the left side of his shirt damp. There was a large oil stain on it. He looked at Edward's automail, noticing the huge stain that spread from under the armpit towards the chest and down the arm sleeve.

"What exactly happened, Ed?" he said as his eyes met his brother's.

"It's all blurry," Edward replied as he considered Alphonse's words. "I don't remember," he added, in clear confusion.

"I think the blade hit a nerve cable, shocking the body and making him lose consciousness," Winry supplied.

"You're not hurt anywhere else?" Alphonse asked, his eyebrows knitting in worry.

"Yeah…my pride…my pride got hurt," Edward said and gave a dry laugh. Neither Alphonse nor Winry was amused.

Out of nowhere, and unexpectedly, Alphonse turned to Winry and wrapped her in a bear hug. "I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered to her ear as he held her tight. Winry was stunned.

Alphonse let go of Winry and turned his attention to Edward. "I can't believe it happened, Ed." There was a slight pause, then he added, "But I'm so glad you changed it." Alphonse sounded apologetic for some reason. Edward nodded and mumbled something unintelligible in response. Winry arched her eyebrows, puzzled by their exchange.

Soft sobbing coming from farther down the alley reached their ears.

Sometime between the intense battle and the emotional ending, the three of them had forgotten about Mavis.

Alphonse got up with sudden urgency.

"Winry, please check his arm. Getting shocked and not remembering doesn't sound good," he said before heading to Mavis. Winry couldn't agree more, but right now her full attention was on the older woman.

From where she was kneeling, Mavis looked small and miserable while she sobbed. Winry wondered what was going through Mavis' head as she stared blankly into space with one hand pressed against her neck. Nothing good, that's for sure.

Winry tore her attention from Mavis and fixed it on Edward. "Do you have a clean handkerchief?" she asked. Edward nodded and fished it out of his vest pocket with his good hand. Winry took it, and said, "Thanks." She got up and joined Alphonse, who was now talking to Mavis. Winry didn't dare look her in the eyes, the guilt didn't let her. Instead, she focused solely on Alphonse and handed him the handkerchief.

"One of those thugs nicked her in the neck with a knife," she said. As if sensing her misery, Alphonse took the handkerchief without asking questions. Winry left their side to check Edward's arm.

As she walked, Winry couldn't stop thinking about how her childish actions had gotten that kind woman hurt. She wouldn't blame Mavis if she ended up holding a grudge against her, after all, she more than deserved her hate.

Winry knelt next to Edward.

"What was that all about?" he asked. Winry knew he was in his right to ask, but she didn't have the courage nor the strength to talk about her stupid mistakes—not yet.

"Can we talk about it when we get back home? Please?" Edward studied her face for a few moments, then nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," Winry said with a watery smile. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment after that.

"Take off your shirt," Winry said, breaking the spell of silence and getting into her automail engineer role.

A fierce blush crept up Edward's face. Winry blinked, confused by his reaction, then she realized she had come up too strong. Winry looked away, a blush of her own coloring her face.

She didn't meet Edward's gaze immediately. Once she felt sufficiently composed, she looked back. "Alphonse wanted me to check the automail, remember?"

"I remember, and I agree, but not now," Edward said in that stubborn tone that always left her feeling rather irked.

"Have you noticed that the oil stain has gotten bigger?—this can't wait, dumbass—!" Winry said, but stopped. She sighed, regretting the last bit. Edward look offended and rightly so, she had come off too strong once again.

"Look, Ed, I'm not going to ask you to take the shirt off if you're not comfortable with it, but at least let me check the arm for mobility."

"Fine," Edward said dryly.

Winry didn't reply. She took Edward's metallic forearm in her hands and elevated it. "Does that hurt?" she asked when she went past the shoulder level.

Edward looked positively mortified. "The arm's fine, Winry," he said, and added, "Now let go—we're out in public."

Winry thought Edward was being overly dramatic, still, she respected his wishes. But as she lowered the arm, the automail port started buzzing. Then a jolt of electricity shocked them both.

"Shit—that hurt!" Edward grunted.

"Ow!" Winry whined while shaking her hands. She didn't realize until it was too late that she'd dropped automail when she got shocked. The hand hit the ground with a solid thud.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, Winry nodded.

"Yeah," she answered, and while she was still rubbing her hands, she added, "At least we didn't lose consciousness."

Edward frowned. "Yeah…" he said a moment later.

"Can you move the arm?"

Edward studied it as it rested motionless by his side. "I can sure try." He found it fairly easy to raise the arm, and once he got it to shoulder level, the port buzzed again. There was a small flash followed by another jolt.

"Goddammit!" he gritted through his teeth.

Winry worried her lip, not liking what was happening. "You have to let me check it, Ed. There's a good possibility of your heart stopping if you keep getting shocked like this."

Edward didn't answer right away. After a long moment, he muttered something under his breath and did as told. He unbuttoned the shirt with his natural hand and slipped down his shirt, exposing the automail port.

Winry barely managed to suppress her dismay as her eyes took in the sight of the large support strap connected to the shoulder plate. A strap of that caliber was assigned to patients who were overburdened by the weight of automail. Winry felt a sudden pang of sadness in her chest. Edward's condition was far worse than she could've imagined. She swallowed hard understanding why Edward had resorted to drinking, among other things. The pain must be unbearable, she thought feeling her throat constrict.

Edward put his natural hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her reverie. "It's okay," he said in a soft voice. "I've managed to survive this far." Winry stared into his sad eyes for a moment. She nodded and blinked back the tears.

Winry continued the assessment. She gently stuck her fingers in the armpit to reach the gap between the port and the metal casing surrounding the upper arm. She felt around until she found the site of the wound. As suspected, some nerve cables had been severed. But these were not responsible for the electric shocks. There must be other cables that got damaged but not severed, she thought. She didn't poke around any more than necessary as the risk of triggering another short circuit was high. She moved away from the artificial nervous system and reached for the oil line. She was not surprised it suffered the worst damage. She ran her finger across the puncture made by the knife. The slit was smooth, which meant the blade went in without causing a rip otherwise the oil leaking would've been far worse. Winry looked up.

"Most of the circuitry is undamaged save for two-maybe-three cables that were severed. But some cables are shorting and shocking you when you trigger a motor reaction. The hydraulic system suffered the worst damage and needs to be replaced." Edward grumbled at that. "Right now, I'm more concerned about the short-circuiting than the hydraulic system running dry." She paused to consider how to best approach what she needed to say next. There was no subtle way to put it, so she decided to go straight to the point.

"I have to cut the electrical flow to the arm."

Winry gave Edward time to come to terms with what needed to be done. Edward frowned, his expression looked almost haunted. Winry couldn't blame him seeing how painful it was to disengage the arm from the port. It was almost as bad as reconnecting.

Winry fixed her gaze on Edward's. "I'm going to disengage the arm now." Edward nodded, putting on a brave facade—for her sake.

Winry took in a deep breath and steeled herself. She ran her hand down the arm looking for the plate that needed to come off to have better access to the port system when she felt something strange. Winry yanked the shirt farther down despite Edward's complaints.

"What the hell is this?" she mumbled as she stared at the fleshy-looking material wrapped around the limb.

"It's synthetic latex. I told Wendy to mold it over the arm so it would look like an ordinary prosthetic," Edward retorted. He yanked his automail arm from Winry's grasp and screamed when he got shocked.

"I told you to stop moving it!"

Alphonse raised his voice. "That's enough, you two!"

They both turned their angry glares at Alphonse, who was glaring back at them looking just as angry, if not angrier.

"Shit," Edward blurted out all of a sudden.

Winry looked at him, and said, "What is it?"

Edward sighed. "Mavis didn't know about the automail."

Winry looked back at Alphonse and Mavis. The older woman was staring at them with big frightened eyes.

"Now she does," Edward added, his expression turning grim.

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A/N 2: The first arc of this story closes with this chapter. It's taken so long to do the rewrite but now it's finished. There were a lot of changes in the chapter, but the main narrative remains the same. The continuation of this story won't start yet. I'm going to concentrate on finishing a story I began writing in January of 2022. That story is written under my other account, the one I use when I decide to let my demons do the writing. DM me if you're interested in knowing more about that story. Just be mindful that I write things that can be considered shocking/controversial/obscene when I write under that other account.

A/N 3: I took a different approach when touching upon the racism and sexism found in this story. Before it was split between Winry's and Mavis' POV, now it's solely Winry's. Also, I changed the way she handled things in this chapter, so they were less cliché. All characters in this story have severe flaws, and it's their character growth that I will be focusing on in the second arc. I do not condone racism but I also don't condone what has come to be known as "woke mentality". I tried to be impartial in my portrayal of touchy topics and I hope that this has come through in this story.

A/N 4: I finish all stories I write, and I hope you stick around until the end.

Visit my Tumblr page: hirstories dot tumblr dot com for story-related artwork and other stories.

Thank you for reading!

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References

(1) Portsmouth is a city in the state of Virginia, USA. It's located near Norfolk and both cities have military facilities for the Coast Guard and the Navy.

(2) The Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company, or A&P, is a supermarket and liquor store chain in the United States established on the East Coast in 1859.

(3) I searched in Google Images for Cosmopolitan magazine from March of 1940. I found on eBay a copy that had the cover and table of contents. You can find the source here: : / / w w w . ebay itm / 294282725787

(4) I found it curious how earlier Cosmopolitan editions printed out stories. The magazine ran Bombay Nights divided into three sections with the ending being printed in the Cosmopolitan March 1940 issue. I searched online for the story and found the mass-market counterpart on Amazon. It goes by the title of A Night In Bombay. In reading the excerpt I found that the story was printed in 1946, but that it was first published in 1940, so Bombay Nights has to be A Night In Bombay. This is the link to Amazon for A Night in Bombay: : / / w w w . amazon Night-Bombay-Louis-Bromfield / dp / B0007HHFQS

(5) Hime is a Japanese honorific for a princess.

(6) Ouji-sama is a Japanese honorific for a prince but in this case a fairy tale prince.

(7) The restaurant name is fictional, however, places in the south that are named with a 'k' like King's Korner Kafeteria, are purposely misspelled. These, according to friends in Florida, are code names for establishments that support white supremacy and the Ku Klux Klan (KKK). BTW, I've personally seen places like this in Florida but especially in Louisiana.