A/N: Excuses- I have them. They involve steins and SWTOR, and unrelated complaining about it being 50 degrees in December (my snow is disappearing). You probably don't want to hear said excuses detailed, but you do want another chapter later tonight, which you will (probably) receive. It'll be the scene immediately preceding this one.
This is Brotherhood/manga again. I thought I had more of a variety, but it's appearing that I perhaps do not.
34. It's not anxiety
Al really hoped Ed and Winry had finished their argument. He'd gone in first when they arrived at the shop, and practically flew out as soon as Winry saw what was left of Ed's arm. Even if he couldn't feel them, Winry's wrenches still scared the nonexistent crap out of him.
The storefront was dark when Al returned, and nothing inside looked broken- good sign. Unfortunately, he didn't see or hear any signs of life; they hadn't put each other in the hospital, had they? No, that would be ridiculous, even for them. Al wandered to the back, figuring they might be doing measurements for Ed's new arm; maybe Ed had been in big trouble and Winry had made him sit through another detailed explanation of alloys and synthetic nerves.
But the workshop was empty, too. An Ed-sized space was clear on her worktable, but aside from that, it looked normal. Al was starting to wonder if he'd been that far off with his hospital idea from before. He decided to check upstairs before he got really worried.
Mr. Garfiel's door was open and empty, and Al wondered briefly if there were girls who owned that much pink. The patient room was empty aside from Ed's case. That's when he finally heard something- muffled voices and the sound of feet hitting the floor. Al stepped back into the hall just as Winry opened the door to her room. Her work jumpsuit- which had only been unzipped before- was tied at her waist, and she was pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Al thought he heard a sound from in her room.
"Oh quit it, I told you- not now, I have to at least find the design for your old arm tonight," she replied. "Oh, hey Al," she added as she started down the hall.
Al stuck his head in the room. There was Ed, lying spread-eagle across Winry's bed. One boot was on the ground, the other had been kicked across the room. His red coat was spread underneath him, and it looked (from the missing top clasp) like his black jacket had been ripped open.
"Brother?"
"Al, don't speak to me right now," Ed moaned. He covered his eyes with his remaining hand.
"What did she do to you?"
"Nothing, yet," Ed groaned. "That's the damned problem."
Al nodded. "Worried about-"
"It's not anxiety, Al," said Ed. "I just need to be alone."
Still confused, Al went downstairs to see if Winry needed any help.
A/N: It probably doesn't add anything, but this is adapted from a scene my friend wrote involving Anakin Skywalker walking in on an OC and a prequel-era Obi-Wan Kenobi. Replace "brother?" with "master?"and you've got the gist of it.