Little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep.

Little do you know I'm still haunted by the memory.

Little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece.

Little do you know I need a little more time.

I'll wait.

-A&S

"You didn't eat after midnight, correct?"

"Yea."

"And you used the bathroom right? You're good to go?"

"Right."

Edward sat on the edge of the steel operating table with a furrowed brow and a heavy heart. He was finally having his arm repaired, but he knew the worst of the procedure would come at the very end, when it was time for re-attachment. Vulnerability was a concept not foreign to him, but one that he hated all the same. He was a leader, a soldier, and his art made him a healer. He thrived off of being strong for others and strong for himself. Strength was all he had to get him through his difficult life. The knowledge that he would be robbed of that, to be forced to rely on someone else during the pain of reattachment, did not sit well with him. He breathed out heavily and pulled his hair loose from its restraint.

Winry watched his actions from across the room as she gathered what she'd need before walking over to finish setting up her station beside the operating table. He was not himself that day, not by a long shot. She watched his shoulders slump and his head hand dejectedly, a golden curtain of long hair disguising his handsome face. Setting down the rest of her tools, she rolled her jumpsuit sleeves to her elbows and eyed her morose customer keenly, before stepping to him to try and lighten the mood when she gave a tiny tug on the black hair elastic entangled in his flesh fingers.

"Mind if I borrow this?" She asked, offering a smart smirk and a wink when his head turned up to meet her gaze. Edward sat blinking for only a moment, having been rooted in place by her beauty before snapping to and acquiescing with a nod. She pulled her long buttery hair into a high pony.

"Okay, shirt and pants." Winry stated, letting Edward know that she was ready and it was time. He grimaced and slid off the table before removing his shirt and sliding out of his pants, which the all-too-casual mechanic took from him and folded before setting them on a nearby chair. She'd informed Ed earlier that judging from the state of his shoulder she wouldn't be surprised if his leg needed some love too, but it remained to be seen if the leg would need to be removed. As Winry turned around to face him again she reminded herself to not be distracted by his looks. She was a true professional and would always remain so, even if she wanted to run her fingers over the ripples of her client's washboard abs. She again noted his melancholy state.

"Hey, everything's gonna be fine. I know its painful—"

"—You don't know this pain." He shot back a little harder than he meant. Edward's eyes cast away from hers again.

"…You're right," She responded softly after a beat. "I don't know what you're going through. I haven't lost a limb, so I don't know what you're going through. All I can offer is that I'll be here, you won't be alone."

Ed's gaze found the side table where her tools were set, and found his mind wandering as he noticed each instrument. What it was for, where it might be used, how it would feel, …and what memories it would conjure. A hand on his arm brought him back and he looked down at her earnest face.

"I'll take care of you. I have morphine for the pain once we're finished." She said as he lied down on his back on the table and she draped a white sheet over his boxer-brief clad mid-section. He swallowed, knowing that the pain wasn't what he was most worried about.

Two hours later Winry had worked her way into every joint of Edward's leg checking for signs of damage similar to his arm. What she found was minimal and resolved fairly quickly without needing to remove the limb. He'd fallen asleep not long after she'd placed an oxygen mask over his nose after to starting the procedure, she wanted him to remain calm. Once finished with his leg Winry took Edward off the oxygen but he remained asleep as she set to work detaching his arm from the moulded port in his shoulder. The rusty build-up in his arm would be a bitch to clean out, but now that his port was exposed she had full view of even bigger problems, and her heart sank. The rust forming in the joints of his arm and leg were likely due to poor ventilation, and it made sense knowing where he lived. The attic space he called home wasn't exactly open and airy, and the studio had only the large front window, but it didn't open. The studio rest room was a decent size, and she'd seen the shower stall in it, but it too had no open windows. Ed would need to do a better job of drying out his limbs with a towel if he didn't want to deal with this problem again. She pulled her black gloves a bit tighter on her hands and reached for a metal pick to gently scrape out the rust and other blackish wet splotches from the lining of his port socket.

It took another hour for her to effectively clean everything, and asked Paninya to clean his detached arm for her in the meantime. Winry had run into a problem she prayed she wouldn't face for his sake, but once she noticed the mold running deeper into his shoulder socket, her fears became reality and she knew she would need to devote all her attention to this much bigger issue. There was a soft, pinkish red hue to the skin on his chest between tattooed flesh, near his clavicle where flesh met the edge of the steel plates making up the base of the port. Removing the plate revealed the growing infection from the bacteria that came with the mold, and suddenly Winry was furious. How could anyone be so irresponsible? All he had to do was get in the nooks and crannies with a towel every time his limbs got wet. He didn't have the luxury of letting himself air dry, and now because of his laziness, the small infection had caused a tiny bundle of nerves to detach from the port. Winry sighed audibly and sat back in her chair, blown away at what she'd uncovered during what should've been and simple and quick procedure. Paninya noticed her friend's distraught face from her station nearby.

"How bad is it?" She called to the blonde.

"Bad." She said gravely. "If I'd known this could happen I would've asked Garfiel to assist me. I have to do a nerve reattachment."

When infections spread from automail due to bacteria, the nerves attached from the subject to the port would reject the automail and pull away in efforts to stop the infection from spreading to the rest of the body. It was obvious to Winry that while Ed's infection was still mild, his body wasted no time trying to protect itself. She was in for a long night, and he was in for a world of hurt.

"I have to leave soon, my flight is the last one out until tomorrow. I can't afford to miss it." Paninya said sadly, wishing she could stay to help her friend.

"No don't postpone your vacation, I'll be fine. I'll just need a lot of coffee." Winry smiled, trying not to think about the night ahead as she and Paninya locked eyes, and then both looked back at the sleeping Edward who had no idea what he was in for.

The flames of hell licked at his skin, searing him with each touch and engulfing him in agony. Then they were gone. A deafening blast shattered the world around him, and his knees met the floor as he heard the screaming. Where was she? Why was she there? Where was he? …What had he been DOING? She was alone. She was waiting for him and he wasn't there, she was counting on him. She was…

'Edward it's time…'

He shook his head furiously. Not that voice again.

'Everything will be okay, but you have to be strong. Be strong for each other. I will never leave you.'

But she did leave. She left him and his brother alone, and then he came, but he was never really there…

'DON'T BOTHER ME'

Edward raked hands into his hair and shook his head again, trying to block out the loud blasts, the never-ending blackness around him. Pushing away the faces, when a message once again beckoned, but from a new voice.

'Edward, it's time… You have to wake up…'

The soothing softness stopped the blasts, and stopped the world from shaking around him.

"Tell me more." He said to the black abyss. The voice complied.

'Breathe Edward, I need you to wake up now… I'm so sorry but… I need a cognizant reaction…'

Ed stopped breathing only for a second as his mind sped to catch up.

"…A cognizant reac—"

And he screamed in agony.

The heart monitor sirened loud and frantic as Edward screamed, only to drag in air as his eyes snapped open and he let out another ear-shattering scream. Winry knew she had very little time. She needed to bring his heart rate down, but doing that required the pain to stop, and the pain wouldn't stop until every nerve was reconnected. She'd already attached one, but the remaining three would feel like an eternity to him. She couldn't afford to stop for more than just a moment for him to catch his breath. Before seizing the second loose nerve she stood from her stool to stand over Ed for a moment as he gasped and heaved, sweat pouring from his furrowed brow. Winry was no stranger to this procedure and the infantesimal scale it reduced a person to; she'd seen hardened criminals and survivors of war cry out for their mothers and even wet themselves. Nerve attachment relied on reaction from the body as the telltale sign of success, and therefore offered no room for the comforts of anesthetic of any kind, not even a shot of whiskey. An engineer's only sign that the procedure was going well was the screaming of the patient.

Edward feared his heart may burst from his body from sheer force, and he could swear he was able to see the blood surging fast and red behind his eyelids. Heart thundering in his ears, lungs dragging in air, the room was a thousand degrees when a cold wet cloth brushed over his face and neck. His arm… it was like it had been blasted from his body all over again. He attempted speech but failed only to gasp for more air over a lingering wave of pain.

"You're doing fine. Everything will be alright, I promise."

There it was again. That voice. He attempted speech again, pushing out his exhausted words in a rush, carried from a dry and grated throat.

"How many?" He couldn't open his eyes again. Winry passed the wet cloth over his face again carefully.

"Three more."

Ed wanted to cry.

"No—" He choked. His head shook miserably, and Winry pulled the microscopic surgery goggles over her eyes again as she picked up her tools to resume.

"You can do this. I'm with you. Now exhale in three… two… one."

Ed breathed out, Winry's tweezer grabbed a nerve, and Edward sucked in air sharply. Winry pressed the nerve ending into place, and the screaming continued.

Warm peppermint tea soothed her unsettled stomach as Winry watched over Edward. She usually remained calm and focused on her task during procedure, but hearing him scream like that drove a knife into her gut and the knife turned each time he begged her to stop. While the worst was over for him, her night would press on. She had already washed and cleaned up and put her tools in the autoclave, so by his side she remained -perched on her high barstool with her teacup on the work table next to her, as she jotted notes in his chart to reference for his future appointments. Edward was fast asleep having passed out from the pain of the final nerve attachment. Attaching the final nerve had sent fear spiking through her when the heart monitor skyrocketed and the second she was finished she'd grabbed the nearby oxygen mask and pressed it to his face again, telling him to breathe deep. It only took a few seconds, but Edward's heart finally slowed and he looked at Winry; one pair of exhausted eyes to another before he slipped into subconciousness.

She had taken him off oxygen after cleaning up and settling in with her tea to allow him to wake naturally instead of forcing him; his body needed time to readjust and calm down from all the pain. Docking would be no picnic either, the one silver lining being that after enduring an unexpected nerve reattachment, the pain of docking should feel like a mere stubbed toe by comparison. Winry would need him awake for that too, but it would have to wait till morning to be sure his nerves fully adhered and wouldn't attempt to reject again. As she finished her notes she set down his chart next to her teacup and stood to examine him. The bleeding around the edge of the plate she'd removed and rebolted had ceased quickly, a good sign. Winry looked around the dark garage, she normally hated being there alone at night, but somehow having Ed there gave her comfort even though he was completely incapacitated. She looked down at his sleeping form again, and found herself unable to resist the urge to lightly run her fingers over his smooth, decorated flesh. Only then did it dawn on her that while she'd seen his tattoos before, she'd never truly taken notice of them. They were beautiful.

His strong chest was adorned in black and grey ink, an anatomical human heart in the center of his chest with panels of steel and bolted-over seams replacing what would've normally been winding patterns of muscle cells twisting around atria and ventricles. The large plates of his automail arm disfigured and obscured the right side of his chest, hiding the right side of the tattoo which disappeared under the steel edge. But the left side curled and twisted like black smoke, reaching out to his shoulder as it vaporized gradually to flesh, as an evanescence. His organic arm held a symbol she recognized as an ancient alchemical cross flanked with large feathered wings and a viscous, winding snake curled around it. The detail was intricate, the shading provided depth and realism, she could stare at his tattoos all day. The most intriguing was the piece adorning his ribcage. It was simple, and not much larger than a fist, but it was significant. Another ancient symbol used by alchemists, with a name derived from Greek words meaning "tail eater". The ink was a deep vermillion, the lines were crisp. A circular serpent, swallowing its own end, representing the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. It was a symbol of transformation; of starting anew. The center of the ouroboros was missing its traditional star, and was replaced with cursive writing. A name.

A woman's name.

Winry stood straight again, a sudden grip around her heart sending her brows to fuse together in suspicion. There was a woman in his life, someone important enough to symbolize a cycle of life with. Someone he loved enough to etch into his body forever.

'I should've known better.' She mentally chastised herself. That was what she got for letting herself fall prey to a pretty face such as his. She paved the length of the garage angrily, falling in and out of the shadows as she walked. She felt like a class fool for succumbing to his seemingly sweet nature, for daring to believe even for a second that he might not hurt her. Moisture welled in Winrys eyes as she thought of all the times she wanted to kiss him, of the times he made her feel so cared for, and of the comments Sheska whispered to her about not burning him. How dare he play the victim.

She grabbed a nearby wrench and flung it hard across the room, sending it sailing into a pile of steel scraps with a loud and oppressive crash. Edward's head only moved slightly on the table, and he remained sleeping. The icy glare Winry sent his sleeping face wasn't enough to inspire fear in his slumbering state, and she decided that since he had his life together enough to be playing women for fools, then he could certainly take care of himself for the night. She pulled her hair loose from her ponytail and stormed out of the garage, leaving Ed alone in the dark so she could make herself a bed in one of the private exam rooms. It took every once of her to push out the thoughts of Edward and his secret life, the thoughts of which punished her over and over for allowing herself to feel what she felt for him. She feared him even more now. For everything he'd done to her, and for everything he hadn't.

Edward groaned and his eyes blinked openly slowly, squinting against the bright lamp shining over him. The garage was silent and dark, save for the table he lied on. He blinked awake after a few moments and looked around only to be met with dark silence. His throat cried from dryness, and his arm radiated pain. Looking down he found himself still unattached to automail; the phantom limb syndrome radiated throughout his shoulder and chest. His attempts to sit up failed due to his exhaustion and he couldn't speak, his only constant thoughts being of water and to go home, and he realized he wasn't even sure what time it was. One last attempt to right himself on the table had gotten Edward rolled onto his left side and he considered it a small victory as he mentally coached himself through the process of swinging his legs down to plant his feet on the floor. His task accomplished, he was feeling pretty proud of himself until he pushed off of the table and his legs instantly buckled beneath him. The floor met him hard but not before he reached out in attempt to catch himself, taking an entire try of nearby tools crashing loudly to the cement with him. Edward groaned miserably at the new pain throbbing throughout his body and was about to give up and lie there when he heard a door open and footsteps shuffling down the hall towards the garage.

"Ed? …Ed?!" The crash had roused Winry from her sleep, and blue eyes fell to the long strands of golden hair splayed out on the cold cement floor behind the operating table. She cursed herself. In a moment of anger and jealousy she'd foregone professionalism and left an ICU patient by himself. A gasp seared into her as Winry rounded the table. Her eyes found his but they weren't the lovely happy gold she'd become accustomed to -they were piercing and and angry, glaring daggers at her for not being there like she promised she would.

"Morphine." He growled at her. "Now."

Winry dropped to her knees to help him sit up, and Ed groaned loudly from the extreme soreness of his muscles. Nerve reattachment made every muscle in the body seize up near the point of strain, not unlike the moment of impact during a car crash. He was furious at her, enraged that she wasn't there when he woke up. Now he sat in his black boxer briefs on the frigid cement floor pathetically, and would've given anything for the strength to stand on his own so he could storm out. He hated being like this, he hated for anyone to see him this way, especially her. She said she'd understand -she was an engineer after all- so she should've been there. Edward cursed his stupidity for thinking he could trust her —for thinking she'd be different. How could he think she might be someone he could count on, when he couldn't even rely on her to be sitting on a stool waiting for him to regain consciousness? He breathed hard once sitting up with Winry's help, and she looked at him somewhat fearfully.

"…I can't give you morphine yet." She whispered.

"WHY NOT?!"

She shrank back from him, having never seen him angry before, let alone being screamed at. She swallowed hard, knowing this was her fault.

"We need to …dock your arm first." She said. The glare he was giving her made her think of her old life, the man who used to scream at her for working late and for working with male patients who would have to disrobe in front of her. He would scream at her for not giving him morphine when he asked for it. He would threaten her.

"I…I…can't…" She said. Edward saw red, the pain nearly crippling him and reducing him to a state he hated, and so unexpectedly. What had happened? What had she done during the procedure that made him need a nerve reattachment? And now she would deny him the only thing that could ease his suffering?! His mind rocketed back to the war, to the blast from the IED that robbed him of his leg and arm, and killed one of his best friends. Suddenly he was no longer in control of himself, and his flesh hand lashed out, seizing Winry by the arm and yanking her close.

"I need you to give me drugs right now. Morphine, Vicodin, I don't give a fuck, just give me something NOW GODDAMMIT!"

His hand vice-gripped on her arm sending tears springing to her eyes. "Ed stop, you're hurting me."

"Would you like to know how much I'M hurting?!"

Winry took advantage of his compromised state and swung her free fist around to land a hard blow on his chest, enough to hurt him but not enough to cause damage to the nerves she'd repaired. The sensitive muscles gave way easily and he hollered, releasing her to clutch his chest as Winry seized the opportunity to scramble to her feet and grab a syringe from a nearby drawer. Pain and anger fueled the adrenaline that surged Edward to his unstable feet, and as he staggered forward Winry gripped the syringe and lunged at him, plunging the needle into the side of his neck before scrambling away from him. He yelped and then stopped, swaying on the spot where he stood.

"…Winry… I…" Golden eyes rolled upward and he collapsed to the ground, leaving Winry standing over him with the empty syringe.

A/N: IMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRY I SUCK I KNOW I'VE BEEN GONE FOREVER. In my defense, I moved! Everything I own was boxed up and I couldn't find my macbook, but we were reunited (and it feels so good) last night sO I'VE COME TO RESCUE YOU ALL FROM THE HELL I'VE PUT YOU THROUGH. I treasured every single review and kind word I received while away, and my heart basically shredded towards the last few days when I started getting messages from people asking if I'd abandoned this fic.

NO! NEVER! I WILL NEVER willingly abandon a fic! The high I get from writing them and hearing reviews is just too good to pass up.

Anyways I'm here now, I'm settled (mostly) in my new apartment and I'm brainstorming plot lines. The next fic I write will most likely be the next companion in the Perfect Blood universe, so theres something to be excited about :)

I love you guys, I missed you guys, I can't wait to hear from you guys. The next chap will be up in a couple weeks.