A/N: Aaand we're at halfway! This is dedicated to my lovely friend Cheezus who helped me so much with this chapter. Thank you if you're reading this! This is by far one of the hardest chapters to write, so I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)

Rev. 12/20/20

chapter 8: float together

Armstrong Residence, 9:40PM

Winry feels chills shoot up her spine. It paralyzes her, and she freezes in place momentarily. The whole apartment feels eerie, the air dense, and for a second she is transported back to the time she snuck into the old, abandoned house by the Warrenton riverbank.

She never went back there after that day. Even after Ed and Al goaded her with a promise of ice cream.

Olivier's commanding presence is enough to scare off a battalion of army men. Her older sister stares at her as though Winry's just committed murder. Her features are sharp and strict, her mouth in a scowl.

And just like that Winry dreads not inviting Edward in so she has someone to cower behind.

"Welcome back, Winry," Riza greets from the kitchen. Her adopted sister peeks her head out from in between the cabinet doors, waving at her.

With wooden feet, Winry drags herself into the living and gingerly drops her purse onto the coffee table. She is quiet as she takes a seat opposite of Olivier on the sofa. Her throat swallows a lump, and she shifts her blue awkwardly between Liv and Riza in the kitchen.

Her fingers twirl the fabric of her skirt, trying to calm herself down. "So, how was the business trip, Liv? Did anything interesting happen?"

Olivier crosses her arms at her chest. She brings one leg up over one knee, shaking it. "Fine," she replies flatly, emotionlessly.

Winry shrinks at her nonchalance. Though her audible answer is better than anything she had expected before she arrived home. "I see."

With a tray of tea in her hand, Riza lowers herself beside her. Winry doesn't think Riza has a clue at all of the things Winry is about to reveal. Her mien is light and relaxed, unlike her other sister who sits across from her with a glare so sharp it could cut stone. Olivier seems as if she knows something. And if there's anything Olivier hates, it is secrets as destructive as the one Winry keeps, hidden from the light. Her sense of justice (and retribution) has always been front and center, after all.

Her heart palpitates, and Winry feels her dry hands getting moist again. "What about the, um, case you were working on? Did you end up chasing some bad guys into a dark alley?"

"No. Nothing like that," Olivier replies briskly, as though she's got no time to explain it all.

Her fingers twine together, anchoring herself against what's to come. Though Winry does not quite know what it is. She merely feels it in her gut. "Oh, so it's more complicated than that, huh?"

Olivier takes a deep breath. Irritation gives way to a new countenance, weary but placid. And just like that, Winry feels her arrested breath release.

"How was your week?" Olivier asks.

"My week? It was good!" Winry answers quickly. A little too quickly, she thinks to herself. "Did some sightseeing around downtown; Ed took me to some Instagrammable places to see what the hype was about…" And then she squeals, masking her anxiety of confessing with pretend excitement, "Oh! Riza and I also ate some really good tacos the other day. What was it called, Riza?"

"Guisados," Riza answers without missing a beat. In her hand is now a novel, the page in front of her earmarked and highlighted. Her gaze is locked on it as if she can barely handle the building tension between them.

Winry knows Riza is feeling it too. Especially now that Olivier has spoken, curt and snappy.

With a scoff, Olivier brings her body forward and sits at the edge of the sofa. Her blue eyes found Winry's, seeing, scrutinizing. "You're in a better mood today, Winry. Last time I saw you you were crying your eyes out."

Winry can feel Riza stiffen at her comment. Her adopted sister's slouched back is now upright, as if waiting, anticipating the fight she can see coming a mile away. Winry hasn't talked to Olivier again since she refused her advice four years ago. Winry had been bitter then, Olivier even more so. Now, Winry can see it all laid out in front of her, clearer than a summer day.

Winry forces a half-laugh, attempting to turn the situation around, knowing she will probably fail. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm usually in a good mood!"

Riza chimes in quickly, "She's right. I mean, you were gone for a bit, Liv. She was fine the whole time you were in Vegas."

Appreciatively, Winry glances at Riza. Riza has always gotten her back, watching over her as an older sister would. But in a battle between the youngest and oldest, Winry truly doesn't know what she will do, which side she will choose. Olivier and Riza have been best friends for years before Winry was born into the family. They have been friends for so long Winry doesn't know Riza had been adopted until after she entered fifth grade.

"I'm glad you're in a good mood," Olivier begins to say, "but what's with the sudden change?"

Winry's chest constricts. It makes it so difficult to breathe she feels herself panicking, numbing her body from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. She shrugs her sister off. "Hormones, maybe? I mean, you used to get mood swings quite often… especially when you have something you're embarrassed about."

And Winry clasps a hand over her mouth. The hopes she will have a calm, amiable talk with her oldest sister vanish in an instant. She closes her eyes, feeling her shoulders tighten at the idea that Olivier is now going to eat her alive.

"There is something you're not telling us, right, Winry? It's no use to lie. You know me. I can see right through it," Olivier hisses, flicking a pair of menacing eyes, threatening her.

At this, Riza rises to her feet and reaches out to place a hand on Olivier's arm. "Calm down, Liv," she pleads.

Winry scoots to the edge of the sofa. Enough is enough. Pointing at Olivier, she snarls, "So you do have something you're embarrassed about. You want to tell us about it? It's no use to lie. I can see right through it, too!"

And Olivier jerks to a stand. She shrugs off Riza's hand and begins to accuse Winry, "Look. I'm trying to understand what's going on with you. Stop throwing the question back at me."

Winry stares back pointedly. "And I'm just trying to understand you!"

Beside her Riza stomps a foot down, glaring at both of them. "Stop it, you two!" Her hands stretch out to separate them, holding Winry back and pushing Olivier away. Frustration is clear in her voice.

Olivier scoffs, squinting her reproach at Winry. "You would say something like that if you're trying to hide something from me."

Whatever Winry has prepared to say tonight is set aside. Clearly, Olivier is immovable, untouchable. Nothing can change her mind. And the realization hitches her breath and makes her hot and teary eyed. She bobs her head side to side, incredulous, saddened by her optimism and wishing things could have gone on a different path.

"I don't have anything to hide, Liv. You need to quit making me feel like the family fuck up!" Winry hisses, her volume rising with the urgent need to end everything, end this. Now.

"Ah-ha! So you are hiding something!"

Her heart is beating so loudly Winry can barely hear herself. From the coffee table she grabs her purse, out of instinct, out of anger. "I don't even know why I bothered trying," she mutters under her breath as she marches towards the foyer.

"Winry!" Riza calls out, her tone sick with worry, begging her to stay. "Winry, wait!"

"Sit down, Winry! We're not done talking!" Olivier shouts from behind her, muffling Riza's pleas.

But Winry ignores her, taking a deep inhalation, praying for strength not to cry. If she loses her temper now she might just punch Olivier in the face. That wouldn't be good; that would only exacerbate things. With her purse slung across her shoulders, she crosses the living room for the door.

It's better to leave, she thinks sadly.

But Olivier repeats herself, her thundering voice bouncing off the wall. "Winry, I said I'm not done talking! Get back here!"

In desperation, Riza interjects, her volume raised more than usual, "Olivier, calm down!"

"Riza, stay out of this!" her sister growls in return.

Tears pool in the corners of Winry's blue eyes. And over her shoulder, she shouts out of frustration, her arms shaking above wobbly legs. She'll deal with the consequences later. "Tough luck, Liv. I'm not about to sit there and give into another fight with you. We can try again when you stop being an ass!"

Olivier snarls back, "I'm trying to help you here, and you're just going to run away like you always do?"

At this, Winry stops and turns. Running away is not what she does. She shoots daggers back and roars, "I didn't run away!" She points to her oldest sister, and then back at herself, "You left me!"

Fury rises and consumes, and Olivier marches towards her, her face red, her knuckles tight at her sides. She points an incriminating finger at her younger sister, nothing held back. "I left you? I asked you to come with us and you refused. Don't put the blame on me, little girl."

Winry scoffs and tangles her shaky arms across heaving chest. "You must be joking, Liv. I was a kid. Barely fifteen. You're supposed to do what's best for me, not just decide things for yourself and then leave me behind!" And then she glares at her, her breath heavy, the tears that have gathered in her eyes rolling down her cheeks. "You're selfish. At least admit that. If you weren't, mom and dad would still be here."

At this, Olivier's taut shoulders droop down. Her breath is still ragged, her mouth still firm, but in her eyes are something else. They glint with dullness, disappointment or sadness, and her voice is low and quiet when she speaks, "So you are blaming me for their death…"

Her eyes roll, still in the thrum of rage. "Who's mom and dad's number one girl? You are! They never could say no to you! And that's why they drove in the middle of a freakin' winter gale and hit a tree!"

Olivier stands unmoving, though her clenched fists unwind. Her eyes find the floor before looking up at Winry, tentatively. "I'm sorry about mom and dad's death. I really am." Then her anger returns and she starts berating her, sharply, "But they couldn't say no to me because they knew I was right. They were willing to consider the move for you. Don't you get it? Don't you know how sheltered you are, Winry?" She scoffs, "Happily ever after? Well, that's not real. You and mom and dad are just as stupid as everyone else in that small town. When they finally decided to move, it was too late."

Disbelief widens Winry's eyes. Olivier could make fun of her, call her names and assign guilt, but no one speaks ill of her parents.

Even if they aren't here to witness the conflict between them unfold.

Even if they aren't here to shake their heads in disappointment.

A trembling hand swipes at her misty eyes, and Winry blurts out what she's been keeping in all along, "Yes, blame it on me. Blame it on mom and dad. Blame anyone but yourself. I don't know why I thought things would be different—that you would have changed. I was just an extra weight you couldn't wait to cut off so you could gallop off into your fairytale sunset." She elicits a mock-laugh, shaking her head. "You left me behind. All alone. I don't know why I expected anything from you."

And Olivier flicks a finger, pressing it into Winry's shoulder. "You left yourself behind."

"Don't touch me," Winry whispers.

But Olivier does it again and again, laying down her condemnation, sharper each time. And the same sensations from that fateful night with Russell resurface. He had touched her when she hadn't wanted him to. Fear starts to loom and enfold, grasping her until she feels nothing but a numbness in her limbs... nothing but her arrested breath and parched throat.

And then she screams, hysterically, shoving Olivier at full strength. Like a mad woman her eyes bulge out, a cascade of tears roll down her face, salting her mouth and making her belligerent. "I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"

In surprise, Olivier stands back. Her sister attempts to steady her by grabbing her arm, reaching out only to be deflected. "Hey! Hey, Winry, what's going on-"

"It's not my fault! I didn't ask for it to happen!" And Winry shoves her away roughly, mercilessly.

Olivier tightens a hand on her wrist. "Winry, calm down-"

But Russell is touching her still, pressing his cold hands against her, stinging her skin, even if Winry has told him no. Even if she's made all effort to push him away and beg him to stop. His nails scrape down her arm. And she feels the same sourness swirl in her stomach, making her dizzy and nauseous.

"N-no, please stop," she begs, tasting salt in her mouth.

But Riza is suddenly there, her warm brown eyes staring straight into hers. "It's okay, Winry. Everything's okay." Her arms thrash again, attempting to squirm out. But Riza pulled her into an unrelenting hug, shushing her, reassuring, "It's okay Winry. You're okay, Winry."

And everything is suddenly clear again.

The blue-grey apartment wall is there. The bright kitchen and beige upholstered stools.

And Riza is still there.

Into the crook of her sister's shoulder, Winry tucks herself in, letting her grief turn into sobs. "Riza… help me."

From beside her, Olivier steps in and places a tentative hand on her back, careful. Now that Russell is gone, now that the safety of the apartment is here to refuge her, Winry ceases her thrashing and lets her. Once her sister feels sure about being able to touch her, to console her, she rubs her warm palm in a sinuous motion.

With a tender voice so different than it has been a minute ago, Olivier whispers, sounding so concerned and so... caring. "Winry… what happened?"

Gradually she unfastens herself from Riza's gentle hold. She faces Olivier, and then Riza, her wails bouncing her body up and down, up and down. It is hard. It is so hard to speak about it that she can feel the lump in her throat grow, bigger and bigger, until all she can do is open her mouth and let it hang there, unanswering. But when Riza cups her cheek, rubbing a soothing thumb back and forth, she slowly finds coherence. Her tongue feels heavy, her lips unmoving, but she can speak.

"Someone touched me when I didn't want him to…" Winry whimpers, letting the truth out, feeling her stomach coil in the sensation. "I asked him to stop, but he wouldn't stop…"

Riza gasps, a quick hand over her mouth, while Olivier stares at her in shock.

And for a long while, all they can do is remain in place, motionless, letting the quiet in the room overtake.

"Winry, righty tighty, lefty loosey. Can you remember that?" Olivier asked, handing her a wrench.

With her short fingers, Winry took the tool, waving it in her hand. Then she did as her sister had advised, fitting it around the bolt and twisting it.

Lefty loosey, righty tighty?

Next to her, Riza chuckled. "Righty tighty, Winry. The other way," she explained.

And Winry tried again, pressing her small body forward so she could gain momentum. Her pigtails bobbed with the effort, and she attempted to twist it, little by little.

Then, once it clicked a couple of times, Winry raised her arms into the air and giggled. "I did it, Livi. I did it, Liza!"

Enthusiastically, Riza clapped. Then she knelt to match her young sister's height, patting her head in congratulations. "Good job, Winry!"

But it was Olivier who grinned at her, her face full of rare delight. It made Winry feel like a winner. It was all she wanted to see.

"I knew you could do it," Olivier nodded, smiling, her hands on her hips.

If only things can go back to the way it was.

"Liv, I'm sorry," Winry moaned, burying her face into Riza's shoulder again, feeling her sister's chest rising and falling, all ragged breaths and thumping heart.

At this, Olivier slides an arm around her back. It feels heavy and solid…

Safe.

"Mom, please… I want to sleep in the back house with Livi and Liza," Winry pleaded.

"Sorry, Winry, maybe another night. They're not home yet and it's time for you to sleep," her mother explained in a soft voice.

Pouting, Winry splayed her legs on her tiny bed. Her eyes glistened as her mother tucked her under the blanket. She ran a gentle hand through her growing hair. "Love you, Winry."

When her mother flicked off the light, everything was dark. The room was quiet; the corners of her ceiling bare. Though in her mind there might be spiders there and they would drop down on her head as she slept. And Winry pulled the blanket over her face, making herself invisible from the monsters under the bed. As soon as she felt her eyelids fluttered, sleep closing in, she heard the door creak softly, eerily.

Her heart stopped.

But then she heard it.

"Winry... " Riza's voice came in a whisper.

Her eyes brightened in the dark, and gone were the night creatures in her room.

"Liza!"

Riza shushed her with a finger over her lips. Then Olivier appeared from behind her, dressed in a formal attire. Like a princess with her own glass slippers and pumpkin carriage.

Olivier proceeded to slip an arm around her back, and then she picked Winry up and cradled her into her body.

"Don't tell mom we're taking you to the back house," Livi whispered, her warm breath rippling the soft hairs on her temple.

Weary, Winry's knees buckle, crumbling her to the ground and taking Riza with her. As she huddles on the floor, she can feel hot breaths ruffling her perspired bangs. And then a pair of tender arms tighten, cocooning her. It feels warm and pleasant. When she opens her teary-streaked eyes, Olivier is over her, behind her, in front of her.

Her pretty sister is everywhere, all at once, embracing her.

Her parents were gone.

At the steps of their two-story home, Winry curled into a ball. Her legs were pressed into her chest. She'd cried all week. She'd cried so much she had nothing left for their funeral. The news of their death had hit hard and without warning and...

It happened so fast she hadn't had time to digest, to understand what it truly meant to live without two people who had given and taught her everything she knew.

Two black-clad figures approached her, and she looked up to find Olivier and Riza looking down on her. Their eyes were misty and dull, just like hers. But Riza swung a smile, tentative but gentle, kind and oh so lovely on her beautiful face. Beside her, Liv did the same, but with more confidence, bolder. Her smile might as well have been a grin. She proffered a hand, waiting for Winry to take it.

When Winry took it, Liv pulled her up. Quietly, she said, "Let's go to the garage."

Surprised, Winry said, "But there are people here…"

"Nah. They're just here for the food," Liv said. "Funeral food is still free food."

Riza giggled and Olivier sneered at the guests milling about their living room, pilfering food and stuffing it into their mouths. It made Winry chuckle. And it steadied her heartbeat and the breathlessness in her chest.

"How about it?" Riza asked again, smiling. "We've got a basket ready. We can eat their favorite dessert, at their favorite place, together."

Still, Winry looked on as if they were crazy.

Softly, Olivier added, still drawing down the same smile on her, the same confidence. "We can talk and catch up, too. It's been too long. I'm sure mom and dad would be happy to see us together again."

At her reluctance, Riza coiled an arm around hers, guiding her down the steps. Obviously, they wouldn't take no for an answer. Liv was right behind them, watching their backs. And as Winry found the last step on shaky feet, Olivier whispered near her ear. It was words full of promises and reassurance.

Just what Winry wanted to hear.

Just what she needed.

Two sisters she could rely on no matter the day, no matter the time. Even when grief was the only sentiment shared between them.

"We're here for you. Always."

A/N: Thank you for reading! As always, please let me know what you think in the comment below :D