CHAPTER WARNING: Ed-level crude language, implied mental health disorders. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of hate crimes. Nothing graphic.
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Earth, February 2nd, 1940 A.D — Late Afternoon
Alphonse's eyebrows narrowed ever so slightly as he went over Wendy's notes. How many times had he gone over them now? Way too many times to count, he supposed. Not that it mattered for he could find nothing in them that could help shine some light on what happened at The Annex. He raised his glance to Edward, who at the moment was immersed in one of Wendy's many journals. "Ed, most things in here were either used or discarded during the initial phases of the experiment," he said. Edward stopped reading and glanced back. His lips curved into a frustrated frown; Alphonse could relate. Things weren't looking good.
Alphonse went over every step taken during the experiment; went over all formulas, and dissected every theorem until they were but mere symbols. Nothing. All that effort only help to further exacerbate his frustration. He was about to give up when a thought waded its way through the front of his mind. What if Wendy didn't follow the conventional rules? It was a ludicrous idea, but he knew Wendy had a particular interest in esotericism—Hermeticism to be exact—and if he added his own opinion on the subject, he would have to admit that Hermeticism and Quantum Mechanics did go hand-in-hand(1).
"Did you find something?" Edward's question intruded upon Alphonse's consciousness. Alphonse blinked a few times before meeting Edward's gaze. "I'm not one-hundred percent sure, but I think Wendy added something more to the experiment," he said rather grimly. Edward caught on to what he implied for his eyes narrowed a fraction. "What kind of thing?" Edward asked. Alphonse shook his head. "How can I put this?" he mumbled, thinking how crazy his explanation was going to sound to his brother. Yet he knew in his heart it was the only thing that made sense, especially when considering the end result of the experiment. Alphonse raised his eyes to Edward, and said, "Brother, I think Wendy turned to esotericism to make teleportation a reality."
Edward, to Alphonse's surprise, took the explanation rather well. He didn't say something right away, though. Edward shifted in his chair to lean on the armrest, the wood creaking under the weight of his automail arm. "What makes you think that she delved in esotericism?" he asked after getting comfortable in the chair. Alphonse leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Hermeticism to be precise," he replied and shook his head, again. "Hermeticism does have a direct correlation with Quantum Mechanics."
"That's a preposterous idea, don't you think?" Edward's brow tensed as he spoke. Alphonse also frowned. "I know how it sounds, but, so far, all evidence points to it," he said, then gazed at the rows of bookshelves stacked at the far end of the study. "There are tons of books in this library dedicated to that subject itself."
"Oh, I been through the Rockwell's private collection," Edward said, his expression now turning grim. "But that kind of knowledge isn't meant for science as we know it." Edward shook his head. "Applying such knowledge to such dangerous experiment it's—" Edward paused as if he was considering his next words. "It's downright reckless," he finally said and sucked in a breath in an obvious effort to remain calm. "Why would she even consider doing something like that?" he added in a quiet voice.
Alphonse scowled at his brother for his harsh judgment of Wendy. "It was probably because of The Havoc," he said in her defense. "The Havoc?" Edward's eyes narrowed into contemptuous slits. As much as Alphonse wanted to share his brother's views on Admiral Montgomery, he refrained from doing so, for if he did it, he would be insulting their version of Jean Havoc; besides, he much preferred focusing on the subject at hand.
"The Admiral had a few closed-door meetings with Dee shortly before she ran the experiment..." Alphonse trailed off, his eyes unfocusing, his features bunching up into a grimace of doubt. "Whatever The Havoc said to Wendy was enough for her to push the experiment forward even though things were far from ready."
Edward balled his hands into fists. "Dammit, Dee! How could you be so stupid?" he bit off with frustration. Alphonse flashed his brother an admonishing look. "Please don't judge her, Ed."
Edward sniffed with annoyance.
Then everything went quiet.
Alphonse sucked in a sharp breath. He hated Edward's silences. It was inevitable, though, he supposed; they just couldn't see eye-to-eye anymore.
"Al, is it possible to replicate the experiment?" Edward asked after a while, breaking the stalemate between them.
Alphonse couldn't be more relieved. "We would need to reverse-engineer the experiment in order to replicate it. Will we be successful? We won't know until we try," he replied. "I'll have to break into Wendy's desk to see what I can find..." Alphonse trailed off. There has to be a clue laying somewhere.
"She's just as bad as me," Edward said quietly. Alphonse pursed his lips and stared at his brother with a mixture of both guilt and pity.
Edward straightened in his chair. "What's done it done. Now we concentrate on moving forward," he said in his defense, then fell quiet.
A beat passed and then another.
"Agreed," Alphonse said after an interminably long and awkward interval. Edward gave a nod of approval.
Alphonse was grateful—and relieved—to have reached a mutual understanding.
Only more one thing was left to address. "Brother, isn't it about time you got ready for your date with Winry?" he mentioned cheekily.
Edward's eyes grew wide, and a faint blush stained his cheeks. But then he looked away as if riddled with guilt; a telltale sign in Alphonse's eyes.
Ever since they left the guest room, Alphonse suspected that Edward wasn't going to keeping his promise to Winry, Edward purposely avoiding his gaze confirmed this.
Alphonse pushed Wendy's notes aside and leaned forward, resting his folded arms on the desk. A knowing grin spread across his face. Edward stole a glance in his direction. "It's not a date," he grumbled.
Alphonse blinked in surprise. For once, he'd had been wrong about his older brother.
Alphonse did everything in his power to keep from bursting out in a fit of laughter, but his smothered laughs earned him a deathly glare, and he ended up cackling. Alphonse expected an onslaught of colorful words coming his way; but there were no sarcastic remarks, not even a single insult. His mirth died a quick death as his head filled with worry.
"Brother, you know I'm joking, right?"
Edward refused to answer. He stood up and walked right up to the window.
Alphonse felt a pinprick of guilt. "Ed, don't be like that..."
Edward finally broke his silence. "It looks rather cold outside," he said in a clipped, almost dismissive tone.
"Then don't go outside," Alphonse supplied in an aggravated voice.
Edward chose to ignore him.
"You promised her, Ed!" Alphonse growled, hating the fact that he'd been right about his brother all along.
Edward shot him a sideways glance. "Tell her I'm feeling indisposed or something."
Alphonse stared down at him. "I'm not going to cover up for you."
Edward stiffened and scowled at him. "And why the hell not? You seem so good at it."
Alphonse leveled his glare on Edward. "What's that supposed to mean?" he spat, but stopped short, looking extremely put out. And he stiffened when a sudden realization intruded into his thoughts. "I knew it! God—! I KNEW you were eavesdropping!" he roared, his nose scrunching up in outrage.
Edward turned around. "When were you going to tell me, Al? never?"
Edward's thunderous voice took Alphonse off guard. He turned away from Edward and stared at one of many the paintings hanging from the wall. Finally, he said, "You were listening, you should know the answer."
"Because I'm a depressed fucking mess, right?" Edward sneered in derision. "That's a load of crap and you know it!"
Alphonse's face contorted in a grimace of guilt. As much as he hated to admit to it, Edward had been right about calling out his bullshit. What Edward didn't know is that his decision to keep things hidden from him hadn't been born out of malice but out of necessity.
Equivalent Exchange: his choice had been nothing but a reaction to a world that had tried to condemn him for the type of person he was.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Those had been Wilhelm's breathy response to their first kiss.
Wilhelm Braun had been the boy who helped Alphonse discover his true self.
From the beginning, Alphonse knew that Wilhelm wasn't like the other boys at his school. Wilhelm wasn't into sports nor he was at the top of his class. Wilhelm was in a sense, unremarkable,p; but to him, Wilhelm had been intriguing. Wilhelm Braun reminded him of a swan: lithe, regal, and infinitely gorgeous.
But, regardless of how he—or everyone else, for that matter—saw Wilhelm, the young German had been special.
Any accomplished alchemist was well aware that the key to a successful transmutation was found in its design. Alphonse knew that the same approach could be applied to art, but, as he painfully found out, this hadn't been the case. When his grades began to slip, his art teacher assigned him a tutor. This was how Wilhelm came into his life.
Through art, Wilhelm showed him another side of planet Earth. Art was also the medium that made their first kiss possible, and while Wilhelm had been spooked by what had happened between them, he was the one who insisted on taking things further.
Over time, their relationship grew intimate. They were always careful when they got together as they didn't want to be caught doing anything that would offend others. Eventually, their secrecy began to gnaw at Alphonse's conscience. He wanted to tell Edward everything. He wanted to confess that he was in love with a boy named Wilhelm, he wanted to share with Edward the many ways Wilhelm made him happy; but most importantly, he wanted to come clean to Edward, because he was certain Edward would support him just as much as he had supported him over the years. Wilhelm, however, was adamant about keeping their relationship a secret. "Trust me, Al. People say they understand, but deep inside, they don't. This is especially true when it comes to family." He respected Wilhelm's wishes for the time being though he secretly began working on a way to make Wilhelm see that things weren't as grim as he thought them to be.
Unfortunately, he never got the chance to change Wilhelm's mind. That same night, after Wilhelm left his place to go home, his father confronted him. Rumor has it that Wilhelm's father demanded to know if what he heard about his son—that he was seeing a boy—was true. There had been different versions to the same story, but they all ended the same way describing how Wilhelm's dad decided to beat the "pansy" out of his son. The man gave Wilhelm such hard beating that sent him to the hospital. Wilhelm succumbed to a coma, one he didn't wake from. And he died shortly after, alone, for his family members had forsaken him.
Wilhelm's father never went after him, which could only mean that Wilhelm never gave out his name. Wilhelm's sacrifice kept him safe from the cruel jaws of hate.
Wendy and Winry switching places had affected him just as much as Edward, though for different reasons. Watching a comatose Winry made the memories of Wilhelm—all those painful memories he'd thought long-since buried—resurface.
"How dare point a finger me when you're as bad as me—scratch that—you're worst than me!" Edward's scathing words happened to intrude upon Alphonse's consciousness. While Edward chose to drown his feelings with alcohol, he chose to face his own feelings head on—that is what Wilhelm would've wanted.
Alphonse turned to glare at his brother. "At least I'm not hurting people," he spat with as much vitriol as Edward.
Edward tensed. "That's because you don't let anyone in!" he roared, nostrils flaring.
Alphonse shrank in his chair, Edward might've as well punched him in the gut. Once again, Edward managed to call out his bullshit. Yes, there had been others after Wilhelm, but nothing as serious as what he had with the German boy. He just couldn't let anyone get that close to him for fear that they would get hurt, as it happened with Wilhelm.
"As if you're one to talk!" Alphonse retorted, though his voice betrayed him by breaking at the end. Dammit! He broke off in chagrin, hating the way he'd sounded. Edward fell silent. His features softened. Clearly, the fight had gone out of him. And Alphonse hated him for this because it made him feel worse than he already did.
Edward kept to himself for a long moment and looked lost in thought. Finally, he glanced at Alphonse, and said, "Remember mom's face whenever she found us fighting?" Alphonse blinked, perplexed. Of all the things Edward could've said to him, he chose to talk about their mother. "Mom used to twitch her nose when she got angry," Edward continued.
Alphonse quickly caught on to what his brother was doing. Edward had the tendency of smoothing things over between them by bringing up some fond memory from their past.
Alphonse wasn't a fan of Edward's tactics, not because he hated them, but because he was a sucker for it. "Mom squeaked when all she wanted was to sound angry," Alphonse offered with a genuine smile. His comment made Edward burst out laughing. Soon after, he joined Edward, expelling a laugh every bit as hysterical as Edward's had been.
But Edward's laughter died down rather fast, and an earnest expression fell over his face. "Al, I don't care if you like men. All I want for you is to find love and be happy." Alphonse stopped laughing, his face darkened. "I know Ed..." he said quietly. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you, it's just...I didn't want to burden you with my problems—"
"Dumbass," Edward cut him off, sensing his compunction. "You could never burden me even if you tried, and believe me, you've tried."
Alphonse's eyes widened, and a hint of a smile curled the corners of his lips. "Shut up," he said, feigning mortification.
Edward gazed at him tenderly. "There's probably a long story behind this. Just know that I'll be there for you when you finally feel like telling it to me." He paused. "Just promise me that you'll stop bottling things up." Edward looked away. "Don't end up like me," he added, his voice breaking like his had moments before.
Brother... Alphonse's heart twisted painfully in his chest. A strong urge to comfort his older brother came over him.
Alphonse stood up, and walked up to Edward; pulled him into a tight hug. Edward gasped; and hugged him back just as tightly. "Brother, I promise I will tell you everything," Alphonse breathed, imagining Wilhelm concurring with his decision.
After a long moment, Alphonse pulled away from the embrace. His gaze locked with his brother's. "Well, I can tell you this much: I'm fine." Alphonse paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "I made my peace with my past, but you haven't," he said and offered Edward a warm smile when he tried to look away. "As if things have been bad enough already, now you have to sort out your feelings for Winry too," Alphonse added. Edward gave him a hard glare, but he brushed it off as childish petulance, especially since they both know he was speaking the truth.
Several clicks of silence ensued. Then Alphonse spoke again. "Winry's a Rockbell, she can handle anything—even you," he said, merely stating the obvious. Edward sighed, long and hard, signaling the full extent of his exasperation with him.
After a moment, Edward's shoulders sagged, and he sighed again in defeat. "Okay, fine. I'll take her for a walk." Alphonse simply smiled.
"It'll be alright, Ed, just be yourself," Alphonse said as Edward started for the door. He then remembered his brother's temperament. "Ignore what I just said. Just don't make her angry."
Edward stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Fuck off, Al," he spat and marched out of the room closing the door behind him with a loud bang.
Alphonse sighed and shook his head in resignation, thinking how some things never change.
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Winry's Room
Winry took a seat by the window. The cane in her right hand rattled in unison with her legs as she lowered herself on the chair. She let out a tired sigh; chose to ignore her inner critic telling her how weak she'd become. You will regain your strength in no time, Doctor Marcus had said, and she believed him. If only this would happen faster...
Winry knew that obsessing about her recovery was pointless so she turned her attention to the wintry landscape beyond the glass pane. It'd been years since she had seen snow, she was still a child the last time she saw everything covered in layers of frost. A fond smile tugged at the corners of her lips remembering how much fun she had at the time.
Edward and Alphonse shared that memory with her. The brothers had been gathering snow to make a snowman while she chose to make snowballs. If she recalled correctly, Edward and Alphonse ended up fighting as there was not much snow around to finish the snowman. She threw a snowball square on Edward's face when he demanded that she handed over her arsenal of balls so he and Alphonse could finish their project. Winry chuckled to herself, thinking how some things never seem to change.
A loud rasp on the door broke through Winry's thoughts and through the silence in the room. Winry jumped, being startled by the sudden intrusion. Another knock followed, then some clearing of a throat was heard.
"Winry, it's me."
Winry's eyes rounded. "Edward..." she gasped in a panicked way that was unbecoming of her.
It wasn't like she hadn't been expecting Edward to stop by, after all, she did accept his invitation to go out for a walk; still, leave it to her to end up getting all flustered thanks to accepting his invitation. Winry sucked in a few breaths and told herself to get a grip on her nerves. Only after she managed to calm down she called out to Edward.
"Come in—!" Winry said, though her voice came out as a squeak. She cringed inwardly, hating how she'd sounded. But she didn't have a chance to berate herself since she heard the doorknob turning.
Winry's back straightened like a rod once her eyes caught sight of Edward walking in. She blinked in mild confusion when she noticed the stack of clothes in his hands. Seeing the clothes made her all too aware of what she was wearing at the moment. Winry's face turned as red as the field flowers in the painting hanging next to the dresser. Her hands found the belt of her robe, and she cinched the belt tighter.
Edward took notice of her shoddy attempt at modesty since he averted his eyes. He even turned around midway and approached the bed. Winry cringed at her stupidity, but it was too late to change things now. She chose to ignore what happened and concentrated on what Edward was laying on the bed. She saw a coat among the folded clothes, which made her wonder what Edward had in store for her.
Edward turned as if sensing her growing curiosity. "It's cold outside," he said when their gazes met.
Winry noticed something rather peculiar in Edward's expression: he was blushing. Her mouth went slack with shock. Edward looked like he wanted to die of mortification. Winry couldn't deny that his reaction was cute, and the sudden realization made Winry's breath caught in her throat.
The blush that had crept over Edward's cheeks had disappeared. He was now staring directly at her, his eyes scanning her person, his expression a mixture of confusion and irritation. "I'll be taking my leave now," Edward said and gave her a tense smile before heading for the door. Winry couldn't form words, all she could do was watch Edward as he marched away. Edward stopped midway. He turned to Winry, and said, "Take your time. I won't be far away, so if you ring the bell, I will be able to hear it." Then, he turned around and continued his march out of the room. The sound of the door closing behind him put an end to the awkward moment between them.
Winry let out the breath she'd been holding. She didn't know what to think about the encounter—it probably was a good idea not to think about it at all. She grasped the cane tightly in her hand, and with much effort, stood up. Winry walked up to the bed and took one long look at the pile of clothes. "These are her clothes," she said to herself as her eyebrows pinched into a frown.
Winry shook her head, sucked in a breath and told herself to remain calm. She leaned the cane against the bed and picked up the first item in the pile: a blouse, by the looks of it. The contraption had puffy long sleeves and string of buttons that ended in a high collar. Winry sniffed as she deposited the stuffy blouse on the bed. She picked up the next article of clothing. At first, Winry thought she'd picked a pair of trousers because of its length and neutral color. Her eyebrows hiked up when she realized the pants weren't pants but a skirt. And she scrunched up her nose when she discovered the pair of brown stockings that went with the skirt. Winry tossed the skirt next to the blouse and glared at the outfit as if it was some foul thing.
Alphonse had said that Wendy and she were pretty much alike, but the evidence before her screamed the contrary. Winry's legs began to shake; she didn't know if it was from exhaustion or from anger. She plopped on the bed; squeezed her eyes shut when her chest tightened. Her breath became shallow. She did her best will away the sensation of suffocation but it was too late. Winry let out a desperate sob.
"Dammit!—why now?" she cried. She hadn't had a panic attack in years. At least she was grateful that she could recognize the signs of an attack, the first few times she hadn't been as lucky. "Rockbell women are strong!" Winry invoked out loud. The Rockbell motto had become the key to overcome an episode. Winry repeated the phrase over and over, until the fear gripping her insides dissolved into nothingness. Winry drew in a deep breath, then took another. She closed her eyes and concentrated in her breathing the way Izumi taught her. She repeated the exercise until a sense of serenity filled every inch of her body.
Winry opened her eyes and returned her attention to Wendy's clothes. She frowned. She wasn't happy with herself for how she'd reacted, but she would sort things out later, she assured herself. Winry pushed herself off the bed; she wobbled a little but managed to regain her footing. Her hands worked fast in untying the knot of her robe. . . . Winry hoped Edward had meant what he said before he left the room. The clothes he brought had been a nightmare to put on. Everything didn't fit well, and there were way too many things to fasten.
The woman in the mirror looked like a sad nun. The boots didn't help the attire. They were a two-tone, chunky disaster.
Winry turned away from the mirror and lumbered to the bed where she picked up the coat before heading for the door.
Edward had said to ring the bell once she was ready but she wasn't going to do that. She'd have far too many weak moments already, and it was time for her to regain control of her life.
During the last conversation she had with Alphonse, he mentioned that Edward tends to spend his time in a study, and that room was located not far from her room. Winry quietly treaded down the hallway fully confident she was going to find Edward on her first try.
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Edward's Study
Edward put the pen down and closed his notebook; rubbed his tired eyes. He tried working on Wendy's notes but his mind wasn't in it at the moment. Maybe if Alphonse was there with him he would've put more effort into the task, but he wasn't. Alphonse was already gone by the time he returned to the study. Edward leaned back and pulled out his pocket watch. It was three o'clock already. The sun would be setting in less than two hours. Edward intended to go on a stroll with Winry around the garden, he had Mavis raid Wendy's closet for this sole purpose. What could be keeping her? Edward thought, even though he was the one who told Winry to take her time.
Someone knocked at the door. Edward shifted his attention in that direction, wondering who could it be. Alphonse seldom knocked and he dismissed Mavis after she finished with the task. Edward waited for another knock, but there was none.
Curiosity got the better of him. He stood up and headed for the door. His eyes grew when he found Winry standing on the other side of the door. "Uh...I decided to come to get you instead of you coming to get me," Winry said bashfully as if she'd become conscious of her actions. Winry looked away, blushing a bit, confirming Edward's suspicions.
Edward would've blushed too if he wasn't panicking. Winry wandering around the premises had been a scenario he'd been fearing since the beginning. His fears weren't unfounded: Winry hadn't fully recovered her strength, if she were to collapse, no one would know.
But what worried him the most was that Winry could stumble upon things he wasn't ready to explain. Thankfully, he remembered that Mavis kept all unused rooms under lock and key. His heart sighed in relief.
"Are you going to invite me in?"
Edward blinked several times. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd forgotten about Winry.
Winry cocked an eyebrow—never a good sign.
"Of course, please come in," he said as he stepped aside to let her in.
Winry offered him a sideways, sly look, as she walked past him.
"You know, you could've rung the bell," Edward said vexed by her attitude. Winry stopped and turned around. "I know. I just didn't want to," she said with a coy grin.
Edward felt his face flooding with heat. That woman... He'd completely forgotten about Winry's flirtatious nature. There was no way in hell he was going to let her see him in such an embarrassing state. Edward turned around to close the door, then rushed past Winry. He felt in control by the time he reached the sofa.
Edward didn't sit down yet. "Please have a seat," he said as he pointed to the sofa. Winry gazed at him for a moment then lumbered to the receiving area. "Need some help?" Edward asked as Winry approached, but she waved her hand in dismissal. He should've expected this out of her, yet another thing he'd forgotten about Winry.
He waited for Winry to seat down before taking a seat himself. But Winry didn't take a seat just yet.
Winry rested the cane next to the armrest and began to shrug off the coat. Edward's face twisted in grimace once he caught sight of what Mavis chose for Winry to wear. Part of him felt guilty for having Winry use Wendy's clothes, the other part felt terrible for not actively participating in choosing the correct set of clothes.
"What?"
Winry's snappish, reproachful tone startled Edward. He met Winry's narrowing gaze. He didn't blame her for being upset with him, she looked sad in Wendy's clothes. "It's nothing," Edward mumbled, and looked away, trying to hide his chagrin. Winry sniffed at him in annoyance, but other than that she said nothing. Edward returned his attention to her when he heard rustling. Winry had already taken a seat. It was then when Edward saw how terrible Wendy's clothes looked on Winry.
"Oh fuck," Edward blurted without thinking. Winry instantly flashed him an angry glare—the type she gave him seconds before clubbing him with a wrench. The mental image made Edward sit ramrod straight in his seat. "I'm sorry," he said and started rubbing the back of his neck. "Those clothes do not suit you at all." Edward snapped his mouth shut. He cringed at his inappropriate choice of words. His eyes darted to the cane resting against the sofa. Winry was still recovering her strength but he'd read about extraordinary human feats accomplished by the power of intense emotions. Edward started waving his hands in front of Winry. "Ah—what I meant is that there isn't anything else you could wear at the moment."
Winry crossed her arms over her chest. The blouse hiked up giving her the appearance of an overstuffed cushion. Edward winced. Wendy had always been curvier than Winry—this was especially true after becoming a mother—but he never expected the difference to be so striking. "I'm going to speak with Mavis to see if she can find something that fits better," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck for a second time. "Those clothes are ancient anyway," he added as an afterthought.
Edward fell silent. Winry refused to speak, making things more awkward than they already were.
Several clicks passed by in this stalemate. Then, Edward cleared his throat.
"Uh—welcome to my abode," he said, hoping that the change in subject would make things better between them.
Winry's glacial expression melted. "Abode?" she asked while arching an eyebrow.
Edward sighed in relief; his gamble had paid off. "Abode is another name for a house," he said and smiled when Winry's eyes gleamed with awe. "I know this is just a room, but I consider it my abode since I spend pretty much the entire day in here."
A sarcastic smirk spread across Winry's rosy lips. "So I've been told." Edward's lips curled at the edges in a pleased grin. "Really? I had no idea," he said with equal parts of sarcasm. Winry rolled her eyes at him, and he laughed. Playful banter was so much better than arguing.
Winry gazed at him a little longer then shook her head. A moment later, she motioned to get up. She was having some trouble lifting herself up, so Edward instinctively stood up to help her. Winry shot him a glare that froze him in place. She then reached for her cane and managed to get off the sofa.
Winry lumbered towards the bookcases in the far end of the room. Edward followed her closely behind.
Winry scanned the rows upon rows of books in the shelves. Edward left her to her own devices knowing well that Winry was far too engrossed to pay attention to him or to anything else at that particular moment. Finally, Winry returned her attention to Edward. "This is so you," she said. Edward's breath caught in his throat. Winry's earnest comment and her affectionate gaze completely disarmed him, whether she intended it or not. Edward began to splutter as a furious blush rose on his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Yeah...lots of books here," he mumbled as he scanned the books.
Edward turned to Winry only to find that she too had broken out in a fierce blush. His heart started thudding wildly. He hadn't felt this alive in years, and it scared him.
Edward rushed to the safety of his desk. His gaze was fixed on Winry as he sat down. Winry's posture was rigid, and she was grasping the cane so tight that the knuckles of her hand had turned white.
Edward sighed wearily. Winry was feeling rejected, and rightly so. He'd promised Alphonse that he was going to behave, but he was starting to fuck things up.
"Want to get out of here?" he asked, giving another try at reconciliation.
Winry stared at him for a moment before allowing a slow, appreciative smile to spread across her face.
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The Rockwell Garden
The garden, to Winry's surprise, was situated in the back of the estate. When she asked Edward about the location, he told her that there used to be a garden in the front but most of it had been paved off to make space for vehicles. Winry could tell that the Rockwell Garden—as Edward called it—was going to look majestic during the Spring and Summer seasons. All this time, when she peered through the window in her room, she'd been watching the landscape of the countryside; the Rockwell Garden was a welcomed change. Frost covered the ground and the tops of bushes. The pavers that gave the garden its shape had been brushed clean of ice. Edward mentioned he didn't want her slipping and hurting herself. Even though the foliage still had a long way to come to life, the winter wonderland before her eyes looked as if it had sprung out of a fantasy book.
Edward guided her to the center of the garden where a fountain reigned among all. Water flowed from it. "It's beautiful," Winry smiled. She let go of Edward's arm, and with the help of the cane, got closer to the fountain. It was completely useless to have such splendid fountain running during that time of the year, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Winry took one of her gloves off and leaned over the fountain's edge to touch the water. An instant chill ran up her fingertips, making her chuckle.
"Are you sure you should be doing this?" Edward chided.
"Probably not," Winry replied as she straightened up. "But it's been years since I've experienced a cold Winter."
Edward's eyes grew round with wonder. "I take it that it hasn't snowed in Resembool?" he said, though his initial excitement had faded some. His eyes drifted away from Winry and towards the garden. A few beats later, he returned his attention back to Winry. "It snows here almost every year," Edward explained then fell silent, his expression turning melancholic. Finally, he said, "It was much worse back in Germany."
Winry offered Edward a small tense; Alphonse hadn't been exaggerating, Edward did carry a lot of baggage. At least he was opening up without lashing out like before. "Resembool is going through a drought, so this is a welcomed change," she said as she put the glove back on.
Edward smiled in acknowledgment. At that moment, Winry couldn't help but wonder at how young Edward looked for his age. She could hardly believe Edward was going to turn thirty-five the next day. He could easily pass as a person in his late twenties; the beard, however, pushed him back to his actual age. She had to admit, though, that the beard gave Edward a touch of elegance and sophistication.
"What made you decide to grow a beard?" Winry asked, indulging her curiosity.
Edward paled, but then ended up blushing to the roots of his hair. He struggled for several moments to say something, yet nothing came out. At last, he seemed to find some measure of self-control, for he finally managed to say, "Does it bother you?" Winry was expecting an answer, not a personal question. "No..." she said while trying not to blush. "I actually think it looks good on you."
"But?" Edward prompted when she began hesitating.
Edward's intense stare was making her anxious. Her heart began to hammer hard against her ribcage. Winry swallowed hard when her mouth went dry. Why? Why he was so insistent? was all she could think about, and Edward was making it sound as if he grew out a beard for her. Winry shook her head—that didn't make sense!
"Winry?"
Hearing Edward call her name made her anxiety escalate.
"Um—" Winry spluttered; quite frankly she did not know what to say. Finally, she said, "You kind of look like your dad." Winry clamped her mouth shut, her eyes rounding. That was not what she had intended to say!
Edward was staring at her, too stunned to talk. Winry's anxiety skyrocketed. She chastised herself for being such an idiot. Hohenheim was a taboo subject, and she just broke it.
When she stepped out the guest room, Winry had done so with a purpose. She wanted to regain control of her life, but she also stepped out of the room because she wanted to start things over again with Edward. She wanted to understand Edward the way Alphonse did.
The sound of Edward's cackling intruded upon Winry's thoughts. She blinked, then she stared at Edward, who was shaking his head.
Edward gazed up at her. "I do, don't I?" he guffawed.
Winry raised a questioning brow. "You're not angry?"
"Not at all," Edward replied as he dug his hand in his coat. He brought out a handkerchief, which he used to dry the tears that had sprung from the corner of his eyes. Winry pursed her lips into a hard line of displeasure. She grasped the cane harder in her hand, ready to go back to her room. She was about to leave, but then Edward spoke.
"You know, I've had the chance to spent some time with my old man."
Winry gaped at Edward. She remembered hearing that Hohenheim of Light had disappeared around the same time as Edward. But to think he'd been with Edward at this time—
"Maybe I should elaborate a little." Edward smiled ruefully at Winry's shocked expression. "Hohenheim took me in after I ended up stranded in this world. At the time we lived in Germany. He helped me learn the language and customs of the country...kept a roof under our heads..." He paused to clear his throat. "Hohenheim made sure I ate a proper meal," he added put stopped again. Winry couldn't help but notice Edward was rubbing his automail arm. "Made me some new prosthetics," he finally said as he returned his attention to her.
Winry was too stunned to do anything but stare at Edward. She was happy that Edward had lowered his defenses, but what he was telling her was heartbreaking. She remembered well the automail pieces Edward was wearing when he re-entered Amestris. At the time, she'd wondered where her automail had gone since what Edward was wearing clearly wasn't hers, but the Underground City had become a battlefield, leaving Winry with no other choice but to put her questions on hold. When things calmed down she was going to press Edward for answers. That day never came to pass—until now.
"That's great, Ed!" Winry said with a genuine smile. "Is your dad around? I would love to see him too." Not only was she starving to see a familiar face, but she was also dying to speak automail with Hohenheim.
Edward tore his gaze from Winry for a second. When he sighed, Winry knew something was wrong. Edward looked back to Winry, and said, "Was, Winry. He's dead now."
Winry's heart sank. She almost wished she would've kept her mouth shut. "How?" she asked; her voice broke but she didn't care.
Edward gave her a toothy grin—for her sake—Winry had no doubt about it.
"He—" Edward began but stopped to clear his throat. "He sacrificed his life so I could go back home." By the time Edward finished his words, he was looking somewhere past the fountain. His gaze looked haunted, and this made Winry's heart clench in her chest.
A moment of silence passed between them. Winry used this time to mourn Hohenheim's loss.
"It's getting too cold," Edward said, after a while.
Winry gazed up at him. Edward looked composed, all traces of sorrow: gone.
The memory of the time when Edward and Alphonse burnt down their house came to her immediate attention. She'd forgotten the thick walls Edward surrounded himself with so no one could trespass them and see him hurting. Winry also remembered crying for him back then; she felt like crying now.
Edward must've seen this in her face, because he said, "How about we go inside and warm ourselves with some hot cocoa?"
Winry nodded. The tears she was holding back, suddenly sprung to her eyes.
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In the Living Room
Edward sat in the couch opposite to Winry, both enjoying the promised hot cocoa in companionable silence. Because Mavis was gone for the day, Ruth, the apprentice cook in the house, was left with the task of making the drink and serving the drink. Edward took another sip of his cocoa. The beverage had cooled down, it was more enjoyable now that it wasn't burning the inside of his mouth. Edward rested the teacup in its saucer and gazed up at Winry, who at the moment was lost while enjoying her drink. A smile tugged at his lips; Winry's spirits were up again.
From the beginning, Edward knew things were going to be awkward between them as they warmed up to each other. He knew that keeping control was crucial for a successful connection. He wanted to make things right, not because Alphonse told him to, but because after careful consideration, this was what he wanted. It'd been hard to exert self-control, though. Winry had changed; her usual spunk was still there but there was a flirty nature that he found thrilling.
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Edward said and meant it.
Winry jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. She lowered her cup and offered Edward a coy smile as she tucked a lock of her hair behind an ear. "I am, thank you."
Edward let out a nervous laugh. He hadn't intended for this to happen, so he picked up the cocoa and took a long sip.
"Hey, Ed. How's your automail?" Winry asked just as she brought her cup to her lips.
Edward stiffened. He'd been expecting Winry to bring up the automail subject at some point, though he was expecting this to happen at a later day. He lowered his cup, and said, "The arm and leg are fine."
Winry gave him an askance look. Edward sighed, knowing he'd come across as reproachful. "Let's leave the automail talk for another day, shall we?" he said in a softer tone.
Winry set her cup of hot cocoa on the saucer, her eyebrows dipped into a frown. "Why?"
Edward sucked in a calming breath. It was becoming clear that Winry wasn't going to let him off the hook so easy. He opened his mouth to answer the question, but Winry cut him off.
"You're wearing someone else's pieces, aren't you?" Winry accused.
Edward had flashbacks of Rockbell Automail, where he was laying down in the maintenance chair, with Winry hovering over him like a hawk hovering over its prey. Edward returned to the present. "Dammit woman!" he gritted out with frustration. "Why would you even think that? I'm still using your gear, okay? Now, can you just drop it?"
His outburst didn't seem to deter Winry, it made things worse. "Then who's maintaining it? you? That's pretty much impossible and you know that." Winry threw back at him.
Edward was starting to feel quite irritated by Winry's accusations. "Hohenheim taught me, okay?" he replied with equal annoyance.
Winry stared at him with a sullen look that told him she wasn't going to back down until he gave her a satisfactory answer. Edward sighed. "I passed down the information to Al..." He trailed off, debating or not if he would finish the sentence. Finally, he said, "When Wendy came into my life, I taught her too."
The full answer hit Winry hard. She looked as if she was about to say something, but she remained silent instead. "Yes...it would make sense to teach them," Winry mumbled after a while, then her face lighted up as if realizing something. "Why didn't you go to a certified automail mechanic?"
Winry's question wasn't born out of resentment, but out of curiosity. Edward looked around, making sure no one was listening in. When he felt that things were safe, he returned his attention to Winry, and said, "Winry, automail doesn't exist in this world."
Winry stared at him in utter astonishment, then she cast her eyes down. Edward's mouth set in a hard line, he would've preferred to keep this secret to himself.
"I'm sorry," Winry said, her voice shaking with suppressed tears.
Edward let out a shuddering breath. He wanted to console Winry but refrained from doing so, the close contact could be seen as improper to anyone who happened witness it. Things would've been different if they've been in the study where he would be free to comfort Winry without the fear of being judged. Edward had to push the image of having Winry pressed against his chest to the farthest reaches of his mind. Control, he reminded himself as he concentrated in the present moment. He forced a smile to his face. "Don't be. Al and Wendy have done a decent job at maintaining them."
Winry's eyebrows shot up in worry. "Seventeen years is a long time, Ed," she countered. "I think is best if I take a look at them—"
"No," Edward cut her off.
Winry narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "They're my work, Ed, and you will not keep me away from them!"
Edward glanced around, afraid of someone overhearing them. He returned his attention to Winry. "Calm down, Winry, you're making a scene," he hissed, and glanced around one more time before adding, "Did you forget what I told you earlier?"
Winry harrumphed like a petulant child, and turned her back, making Edward suck in a long breath.
After a moment, Winry turned back to Edward. "I can't stand this situation anymore!" she cried.
Winry's grief was palpable, and it made Edward pursed his lips in a grim line. Winry was the type of person who thrived by staying on top and in control of things; being thrown into a situation where she'd lost both was undoubtedly taking its toll on her.
"Okay-okay, fine. I'll make time so you can inspect the arm and the leg," he conceded.
Winry's eyes glistened gratitude. "I'll write down everything I do to your arm and leg, that way Al or your wife can make a proper maintenance when the need arises."
Edward was glad that he could help relieve some of Winry's sorrows, though he worried about her reaction when she performed the checkup since there had been some alterations done to the arm over the years to help ease the burden of its weight on his back and neck. Edward shook his head to clear it. He turned his attention to the future task of finding a suitable journal for Winry's annotations. Winry's notes can't—for any reason—fall into the wrong hands. He failed to secure the uranium bomb, a mistake he wasn't going to repeat with regards to automail. Thinking about the past was beginning to sour his mood, so he stirred his attention back to Winry.
"Once a Gear Head, always a Gear Head, right Winry?" he taunted, a smile playing about his mouth. And he let out a boisterous laugh when Winry flashed him a fierce glare. There was a momentary silence as Edward studied Winry's miffed expression.
"Hey, Winry," Edward said in a serious tone. He waited until he had Winry's undivided attention. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I never expected to see you again. When I saw you lying unconscious on that makeshift bed at the test site I—" Edward stopped as a sudden surge of conflicting emotions washed over him. He waited for them to pass before picking up where he left off. "I didn't know how to react," he admitted.
Winry quietly stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
"I'm not trying to excuse my behavior," Edward said. "I just want you to understand the reason behind my actions." He cleared his throat, then added, "What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. I was rude and unreasonably cruel to you." He sighed. "Can you forgive me for being a—"
"An absolute horrible human being?" Winry finished for him.
"Yeah..." Edward mumbled, his eyes sliding away from Winry in shame.
"You're forgiven," Winry declared with an ample smile.
Edward's head shot up. "Just like that?" he blurted out, incredulous.
"Just like that," Winry grinned. "Ed you're my friend, and my family. And I want it to stay that way, forever."
A breath caught in Edward's throat. Her friend? her family? "Of course, Winry. Always and forever," he uttered, for her sake, even though his selfish heart yearned for something else.
Winry offered him a warm smile in response. Then, they both drifted back into companionable silence.
Edward picked up his teacup and took a sip. His nose scrunched up with displeasure. The cocoa was lukewarm and undrinkable at that point, so he set it back on the table.
Winry too set her teacup on the table.
"Ed?" she called as she glanced up at him.
"Yes?"
Winry inhaled sharply, then said, "Do you miss her?"
Edward sucked in a breath, he hadn't been expecting more questions. He thought everything was said and done at that point, but he guessed wrong.
Wendy's disappearance was something he tried not to think about. He only focused his attention on her annotations, which were needed to recreate the teleportation experiment. Did he miss Wendy? If he was honest with himself, he would say he wasn't sure. He would have to cut through thick layers of guilt and resentment before getting a chance to sort out his feelings.
Edward returned his attention to Winry, who quietly waited for her question to be answered. "I do," he finally said, telling Winry what she most likely wanted to hear.
Winry looked lost in her own thoughts, and it made Edward regret what he said. Winry blinked and turned her full attention on him. "I understand how you feel," she said with a wistful smile. "I miss my fiancé."
Edward breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for not messing up. But he couldn't deny that Winry bringing up her fiancé stung. His eyes wandered to Winry's lap, to the engagement ring she proudly wore in her hand. He'd been wondering—ever since he laid eyes on that godawful thing—who was the man who ended capturing Winry's heart.
Edward straightened in his seat and fixed a determined gaze on Winry. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but who's the lucky guy?" he asked, giving in to his curious whim. Winry didn't seem bothered by the question, on the contrary, she welcomed it.
"His name's Russell, and he's a State Alchemist, just like you. I met him over a year ago in Resembool," she said with a proud smile. "Remember the drought I mentioned earlier?" Edward nodded. "Well, Russell's been working with the locals to re-mineralize the depleted soil. He's also helping to stabilize erosion caused by the drought spell."
"Russell, huh?" Edward mumbled, the name sounded familiar for some reason. "And I assume he's using alchemy to reverse the effects of the drought?" he further inquired.
Winry nodded, pleased with Edward's quick reasoning. "'Plant-based alchemy', Russell calls it. And yes, he uses it in conjunction with botany to boost farming." Winry stopped up short as if realizing something. "Ed, do you know him? His code name is Emerald."
"Emerald?" Edward shook his head, and said, "Doesn't ring a bell." He most definitely would remember a State Alchemist using a stupid name like Emerald.
Winry nodded in acknowledgment. A moment after, he said, "Now that I think about it, you couldn't possibly know him since he joined the military less than two years ago."
Edward couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that had clung to him. Plant-based alchemy was rare, and he only knew of two people who worked with it. And one of them fit Winry's timeframe. "By any chance, is his last name Tringham?"
Winry blinked in surprise. "Well, yes, his full name is Russell Tringham. I'm amazed that you actually know him."
Russell Tringham is Winry's fiancé?
Edward's mind returned to The Annex, where he met Winry for the first time after seventeen long years. Ever since he laid eyes upon her nearly-naked figure, he'd mulled about the bastard who'd been sleeping with Winry—his Winry. It never crossed his mind that that bastard was a former rival of his.
"Russell 'Fucking' Tringham..." Edward let out a snort of derision.
"Watch it, Ed," Winry said with a glint of warning in her eyes.
Edward fixed his narrowed gaze on Winry. "Can you blame me? You asked me if I knew the guy, and I do." He paused for a second, then added, "Let me tell you something about Russell Tringham. He's a third-rate alchemist and a cheat."
Winry squared her shoulders and glared at Edward with defiance. She opened her mouth to say something, but Edward cut her off.
"Who's his Commanding Officer?"
"General Mustang," Winry bit out.
Edward caught his breath and stared at her in stunned silence. Not only had Russell Tringham claimed Winry as his, but he also took claim of his position in the military? That asshole was living his life! Edward couldn't help but snort with the irony of it.
"Oh my God, that is rich! The Bastard is his C.O.!" he hollered in scornful derision after snapping out of his stupor.
Winry sat quietly through Edward's tirade, her knuckles white as she clenched her cane. Edward shot her an accusatory glare. "You something, Winry? That pathetic loser will never do right by you." He didn't care if Winry used her cane to clobber him in the head. He was bitter and brimming with resentment, and he needed to tell her exactly how he felt.
Winry resumed her defiant stance and glared at Edward, now genuinely angry. "You got guts, Ed, I give you that." She used the cane to stand up and took her time to walk up to Edward. She continued once she towered over him.
"Let me tell you a little something about Russell Tringham. This third-rate alchemist and a cheat, as you so illy speak of. Russell Tringham is the kind of man that puts others first. He rescued our little town from falling into financial ruin. He—" Winry stopped. Edward could tell she was having a hard time keeping the reins on her emotions. "He offered me a shoulder to cry on when Granny passed away." Edward could feel himself paling, it never crossed his mind that Auntie Pinako would be gone, leaving Winry as the last living Rockbell in the region. "And when I fell into a deep depression," Winry continued, her voice oddly flat. "Russell made sure I had something to eat. He made sure that I got enough sleep." Winry exhaled, and a wry expression darkened her features. "He encouraged me to keep myself busy while I worked on my grief."
Emotional exhaustion must've been taking its toll on Winry since her legs began shaking. "That pathetic loser that will never do right by me made sure that I felt loved!" Winry cried, unleashing the full extent of her anger upon Edward.
Edward gasped, Winry's words finally sinking into his muddled brain. "I'm glad he helped you, Winry, but I still think you could better than him," he muttered.
Winry looked like she was ready to collapse from exhaustion, but her unbridled anger kept her going.
"Is that what you did Edward?" she hissed. Then a sardonic smile slashed across her face. "I guess I should feel flattered. I honestly had no idea you had feelings for me."
Edward froze, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. Winry looked pleased with herself, but she wasn't done with him yet. "Of course, that was until I saw that picture of your wife," she added.
"Winry—" Edward tried to cut Winry off but she didn't let him talk over her.
"You know something?" Winry continued. "Russell isn't a pathetic loser, that title belongs to you." Her face darkened with contempt. "Only someone who's utterly pathetic would marry a person that reminds them of their old flame. You took it a step further, though. You married a person who's a spitting image of your old flame."
"You know nothing, Winry!" Edward spat. "You have no idea of what I've been—" He snapped his mouth shut, it didn't matter at this point what he said or didn't say; the wedge that had existed between them was forced back in place.
Winry wiped away a tear that slid unbidden down her cheek. "Now that's the answer one would expect from a pathetic loser."
Winry stared Edward down for a few seconds, then turned on a heel. She wobbled to the stairs, leaving him in the company of his humiliating defeat.
Edward was too shocked and upset to react immediately, but he snapped out of it when he heard Winry ascending the stairs.
"Goddamit—!" Edward shot to his feet. "Don't you dare run away woman! We're not done here!" he yelled as Winry walked upstairs.
Winry stopped, looked over her shoulder toward Edward, then turned around, and continued her trek to the second floor, ignoring him altogether.
Edward stood in the middle of the living room, rooted to the floor, incredulous as to what had transpired. He was livid. "Fuck!" he spat, and in a blind fit of rage, Edward kicked the table with his automail leg. The table went flying along with the table set.
Edward bared his teeth in a scornful snarl as he stared at the broken mess he left behind.
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Alphonse stilled when he heard Winry raising her voice, and closed the book he was reading when he heard Edward yelling.
Those two are at each other's throats again.
Alphonse pushed back the chair and stood up. If he could hear Edward and Winry fighting from the study, then there was a high possibility that everyone else in the household was hearing them too. Edward and Winry tend to lose their head when they bickered, which meant that things that should be kept secret wouldn't remain secret for long.
Alphonse groaned with frustration as headed for the stairs. He stopped at the foot of the stairs when he saw Winry was coming upstairs like a bat out of hell. He opened his mouth to say something but she flashed him a glare that shut him up. Winry harrumphed as she walked past him, and didn't look back as she stormed to the guest room. Then Edward began yelling, demanding for Winry to stop and face him. But it was too late, Winry had already shut the door after her with a loud bang. Alphonse sucked in a calming breath when he heard his brother venting out his frustrations. The sound of something breaking replaced Edward's cussing. Alphonse tried not to lose his patience as he descended the rest of the stairs.
"It looks like you two can't have a civil conversation after all," Alphonse said as he entered the living room. He took a quick assessment of the damages. The coffee table was turned over, and the tea set was spilled across the floor. A pool of what looked like cocoa engulfed the porcelain, forming tiny islands out of the shattered pieces. Alphonse frowned when he recognized the pattern decorating some of the shards: Edward broke his favorite tea set. He turned his attention to Edward, who at the moment was sulking in a corner.
"You made her angry, didn't you?" Alphonse said as he frowned at his older brother.
"'Made her angry?'" Edward snorted in contempt. "She made me angry!"
Edward started pacing around like a caged animal, then motioned for the stairs but stopped abruptly. He turned to Alphonse. "I need a drink, but I can't have one because you decided to thrash my fucking liquor cabinet!" Edward growled while pointing an accusatory finger at him.
Alphonse narrowed his glare on Edward. "And you thrashed my favorite tea set."
Edward started chuckling at that. Alphonse suppressed his anger; he wasn't going to fall for Edward's cheap shots. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, and said, "Are you done?"
Edward scoffed, and Alphonse smiled knowing how much it bothered Edward when he treated him like a petulant child.
"Fuck you too, Al," Edward spat in turn.
Alphonse noticed Edward's intent to leave. "Will you at least tell me what happened?"
Edward stopped and turned around. "And what would be the point? We fought. End of story."
"I know you wanted to mend things with Winry, so please tell me what went wrong," Alphonse said in earnest.
Edward's hard expression softened. He tore his gaze away for a moment as if he was considering what to say. Finally, he returned his attention back to Alphonse, and said, "I spoke my mind." Alphonse inhaled a sharp breath. Things tend to end in disaster whenever Edward decided to speak his mind. "And what did you say?" He could only imagine what Edward said to Winry.
Edward crossed his arms over his chest. "I told her what I thought about her life choices."
Alphonse cringed. "Please tell me you didn't say something stupid, like speaking about her fiancé," he said though he knew well this was exactly what Edward had done.
Edward gave him a reproachful look. "And what if I did?"
"Goddamit, Ed!" Alphonse snapped. "You had no right—"
Alphonse's rant was cut short when Edward spoke over him.
"She's marrying Russell Tringham! Russell-fucking-Tringham, for Christ's sake!" Edward snarled. "You know damn well that jerk is a fake and a deceiver—did you fucking forget that fucker and his brother did to us in Xenotime?"
Alphonse was stunned not because of Edward's outburst but because he wasn't expecting to hear that type of news.
"I remember," Alphonse said in a measured voice. "But that doesn't give you the right to speak ill about him."
"He'll break her heart!" Edward growled with frustration.
"Break her heart?" Alphonse scoffed, incredulous as to what he was hearing. He shook his head. "No, Ed, you did."
Edward stared back at him in stunned silence. "You know, you're supposed to be on my side," he said, scowling.
"I'm on nobody's side," Alphonse said with a scowl of his own.
"Really? I didn't notice."
"Stop it with the sarcasm, Ed," Alphonse ground out, he wasn't going to let his brother take sabotage the conversation.
"Whatever," Edward scoffed in defiance.
"You acted without thinking—again—all because you're jealous of Russell," Alphonse replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Me, jealous?" Edward chuckled, trying to dismiss what he just heard. His condescending attitude rubbed Alphonse the wrong way.
"Really, Ed? You're going to insult my intelligence?" Alphonse retorted. Edward shut his mouth; Alphonse continued.
"You're so smitten with Winry that you don't know what to do with yourself."
Edward chuckled again. "Shut up, Al. You don't know what you're saying," he said, trying to divert the course of the conversation, but Alphonse wasn't going to let him.
"I don't know what I'm saying?" Alphonse repeated. "Winry is the reason why you messed up with Wendy."
Edward's eyes widened for a second before narrowing into a menacing glare.
Edward shortened the distance between them in three steps and jabbed his index finger to Alphonse's chest. "Don't you dare go there, Alphonse Elric!" he hissed. "I swear, if you keep pissing me off, I won't respond!"
Alphonse did his best to keep his cool under the circumstances. "I'm not trying to pick up a fight, Ed. I'm just putting things in perspective for you."
Edward bared his teeth at him. "Fuck you, Al!" he snarled, then turned around and walked away.
Alphonse inhaled deeply, and said, "Do I need to remind you that you gave Winry up the day you decided to return to this world?" The comment seemed to do the trick since Edward stopped.
Alphonse felt a pang of guilt for manipulating his brother's emotions, but Edward needed to face reality. "Ed, you know well that you have no claim over Winry. But I can sympathize with you," he added in a softer tone. When Edward turned around, he said, "I can only imagine how you must feel knowing that a former rival of yours has captured Winry's heart." He paused momentarily to reflect on what he was going to say next. "Winry isn't yours, and because she isn't yours, you don't get to tell her how to live her life. Winry doesn't owe an explanation to you or to me or to anyone, for that matter. If Winry chose Russell as her future husband is because he has proven that he is worthy. She chose him because she loves him too. And, you, out of all people, should respect that."
By the end of the speech, Edward was staring into space. His heartbroken and defeated expression told Alphonse that his words had cut him deep. It pained Alphonse to see his brother reduced to such pitiful state but Edward hadn't given him another choice.
"My head hurts," Edward announced before heading for the stairs. He stopped on the first step, turned around and said, "Can you please let the staff know about the mess I made?"
Alphonse nodded. "You don't have to worry about a thing."
Edward offered him a wry smile as thanks. He then turned around dragged his feet as he climbed upstairs.
Alphonse returned his attention to the mess Edward made, then his thoughts went to Winry. I'm going to help you find your peace.
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A/N: Another chapter is up! It's a slow drip but a steady drip. I've changed many things in this particular chapter including: the addition of automail earlier rather than later, a quick peek into Alphonse's life, more EdxWin drama, and of course a detailed look into the flaws of the main characters. I hope you like it. (n_n)
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) Hermeticism, also called Hermetism, is a religious, philosophical, and esoteric tradition based primarily upon writings attributed to Hermes Trismegistus ("thrice-greatest Hermes"). Source: Wikipedia.
I wanted to point out that Hermeticism has a great influence in the 2003 series and Conqueror of Shamballa (I'm including the Kids OVA too).
Hermeticism states: "That which is Below corresponds to that which is Above, and that which is Above corresponds to that which is Below, to accomplish the miracle of the One Thing." Source: The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus.
Sounds like "All is one and One is all", right?
Anyway, Hermetic Philosophy mentions the Infinity of Nothingness, from which, creation is born. To sum it up, the phenomenon of Infinity of Nothingness has been observed in experiments dealing with Quantum Physics. In the Infinity of Nothingness, Desire is manifested by Will. For this story, Alphonse suggests that Wendy's Will was so intense that her Desire manifested. Creation simply executed what was requested of it.
The philosophy found in Hermeticism is quite complicated but it's also quite compelling. The mechanics behind it can explain extraordinary phenomena, such as miracles, among other mysteries.