A/N: FFN doesn't like my desktop, which is weird, because it agrees with my laptop, which is running the Windows 8 beta. Go figure.
88. Point of View
Dominic's family didn't have many spare rooms, so all the guests (who required sleep) were gathered in the sitting room. (Al was outside watching the stars). Paninya was out cold on a chair, slumped in what would have been a very strange position if she had feeling in her legs. Ed, however, was still lying awake, his mind buzzing with joy and professional curiosity about the birth, as well as some as-of-yet undefined feelings about Winry breaking into his watch. He still couldn't figure out why she insisted on crying for him; who would want to show that much weakness? The girl was crazy, a basket-case, a-
Awake, apparently, and (of course) sniffling. Ed cracked his eyes open and looked up at her on the couch from his place on the floor; sure enough, he saw her shoulders shaking.
"Winry, go to sleep," he groaned.
She half-squeaked in response and whipped her head around toward the source of the noise. "Ed don't surprise me like that," she snapped, wiping her cheek.
Ed sighed and resigned himself to getting very little sleep that night. He sat up and ruffled Winry's hair, earning a small smile from her. She slid off the couch and sat next to him, his hand still on her head. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?" he asked as gently as he could (which, considering the hour and level of frustration, wasn't much, but Ed thought he'd managed to keep the bitter edge out of his voice).
"N-nothing," she lied, and averted her eyes from Ed. He gave her a Look that spoke volumes about knowing her inside and out, and not being in the mood for bullshit. "I'm just worried about you," she finally sighed.
Ed suppressed most of his groan. "Uch, Winry, stop it. Al and I can take care of ourselves."
"Al doesn't walk around with the world on his shoulders the way you do," she countered.
"It's nothing to cry over!" Ed snapped, but Paninya shifted, and Winry put a finger up to his lips.
"It's just tears, Ed, it's not the end of the world," she whispered.
"Yeah, but if you're crying for me, then…" Ed trailed off as his thoughts became more jumbled.
"Yeah, yeah, you don't cry, I know," she groaned.
"I'm not showing that kind of weakness," he said stiffly. He almost crossed his arms, but instead found his right hand playing with her hair and loosely cupping the back of her head. There was a small smile on her face, and he couldn't bring himself to change that picture.
"It's all point of view, Edward," she said. "Crying just makes you human.
"Yeah, well I wouldn't mind if my enemies forgot that," he replied, a small frown darkening his face. "Everyone already thinks I'm just a stupid kid-"
"Well, you are-"
"Winry," he groaned. She closed her mouth and grinned at him. "Are you feeling better yet?"
She nodded, grin still in place. Ed gave her hair one last ruffle, and she climbed back onto the couch. Ed fell back onto the pillow, now thoroughly tired. That girl was exhausting, but (as she reached out and squeezed his left hand) for some reason, he always seemed to forgive her frustrating qualities.