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As much as he tried to hide it, Ed was in rough shape when he and Al stumbled, dripping, onto the Rockbell house porch, taking everyone inside by surprise with Al’s heavy metallic knock.
“Edward, Alphonse!” Granny exclaimed, ushering them in. Den wagged so hard her entire body wiggled, weaving between their legs and nearly knocking Ed over in the process.
“Hey, girl, it’s good to see you too,” he gave her a halfhearted pat on the head.
“We’re sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night,” Al apologized. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”
“What brings you two? I assume you aren’t here just for Winry’s apple pie,” her voice had an undertone of accusation. What have you two gotten into now?
“Well we were just passing thr–” Ed started.
“Brother is badly hurt and his automail is damaged,” Al interrupted.
“Thanks a lot, Al,” he snapped.
“What? It’s true isn’t it? You need help.”
“Alright,” Granny interrupted their bickering. “Come in let’s get you comfortable and see what we can do until morning when Winry can take a look at it.”
“Take a look at what?” came the engineer’s voice through a yawn from the doorway behind them, pushing her disheveled hair out of her bleary eyes.
Ed and Al exchanged glances, knowing what was coming next.
“Well, uh, you see..”
“Out with it, Ed!” Winry snapped. “It must be bad if you’re showing up in the middle of the night during this storm.”
As if on cue, a crack of thunder rang out that shook the entire house, causing Den to yelp and scamper under the table. Alphonse sat on the floor against the cabinets, reaching and calling to coax her back out.
“I just need a good night’s sleep and a tune up,” Ed protested.
“And let me guess, you’re pressed for time, too?” she shot back, looking up at him with exasperation.
“It’s not like I planned for this to happen!” he exploded.
“Brother, you have to calm down, your injuries–” Al cried.
“No!” Ed snapped at him, then turned back to Winry. “You think I want this? Having to come crawling back here every time–” he stopped abruptly, hissing in a breath through his teeth with a grimace as he clutched at his side.
A beat passed. She knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him like this.
“Alright,” she resigned. “Let’s go up to my workshop so I can take a look at it.”
He padded up the stairs, lagging behind her. She remarked about him being slow, only for worry to creep in when he had no response. They stepped into her room, cluttered with equipment and a number of projects in various stages of work, some of them laid atop their blueprints.
“Let’s have a look at you.”
Ed sighed and gingerly shrugged off his red coat, grimacing. The rain must have washed away most of the blood on his face although some scrapes and bruising were still visible, but his condition became apparent when the skin under his jacket revealed where it had dried in splotches in his shirt, sticking it to his body.
“It’s really not so bad as it looks, I just need a good night’s rest and for you to work your magic.” he gritted his teeth as he attempted to pull his shirt over his head, the movement clearly agitating whatever injuries it concealed. He sighed and started slowly working at the buttons with his left hand.
“Let me help,” not waiting for an answer she stepped to him, noting again his lack of protest as he dropped his hand, heavy eyes looking down. Each button revealed more scrapes, gashes, and bruises on his chest and abdomen, not to mention the smashed up bundle of scraps that made a sorry excuse for his automail arm hanging at his side she saw when he let the shirt slide off. He was usually so strong, even now the evidence of his consistent battles showed through the muscles of his chest and shoulders, which she could tell had broadened even since the last time she’d seen him even though in that moment he seemed to be sinking in on himself. She knew he got himself into all kinds of trouble but had never seen him in such bad shape. Her face twisted with concern she tried to temper, clearly he already knew how poorly he must have looked.
“You’ll need to get out of those wet pants, too,” she blushed. “We don’t need you getting sick on top of…all this.” She broadly gestured to all of him.
He sat in the chair at her work bench, intending to unlace his boots, biting back a grunt as he leaned over. She lowered herself to the floor in front of him, not giving him the chance to argue.
“You better not get used to this treatment, and you’re lucky I don’t charge you extra,” she said, trying to make light of it so he wouldn’t feel worse. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her nimble fingers made quick work of his laces, loosening them enough for him to kick them off himself and peel his sock off.
She rose, fetching a t-shirt and bottoms from her wardrobe, trying to keep the mood light, “I swear I’ll never see the day you’ll be too big to borrow my clothes; I’ll spare you anything pink or lacey. I don’t suppose you’ll be wanting any underwear?”
“You calling me little, gearhead?” he retorted flatly with a halfhearted smile as he took them from her, his attempt making her smile nonetheless. She turned around to clear off her desk, making room to work while she gave him a moment to change. She gathered his wet clothes and hung them where she could find space around the room, then returned to his side and took his automail arm in both her hands, bracing to remove it.
“Ready?” He nodded, biting back a groan as she disconnected it from the base at his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I try to be as gentle as I can,” she set it down on her desk, assessing the damage with a glance and mentally calculating the range of repairs she had ahead of her. “‘Tune up’ my ass, this thing is in about as bad of shape as you are. Are you sure you don’t want me to fetch Doctor Marcoh? You look bad.”
“Ouch,” He clutched his heart in fake offense. “Nah, don’t worry about it,” he made his way to his feet, limping over towards the couch against her wall. “I just need some sleep.”
“No, you can take the bed. You really did a number on this so I’ll be working through the night anyway.”
“Are you sure? I haven’t exactly cleaned up yet,” he vaguely referred to the condition he was in.
“Don’t worry about it, I can wash all your germs out later. Please, you need the rest.”
He plopped heavily onto the bed and made himself comfortable, not bothering to put on the shirt she’d given him or pull up the blankets.
“Thank you, Winry,” he murmured as his head sank into her pillow, taking in her smell; a mix of her shampoo, automail grease, cinnamon, and vanilla.
“You’re welcome, Ed,” she turned around to see him already asleep, hand tucked in his waistband, mouth slightly agape.
“Gosh, you must be exhausted…” she said to nobody in particular. This time, to herself, “Alright, let’s get to work.”
—
A few hours later she leaned back in her chair, stretching her aching neck and back, clicking off her desk lamp to give her eyes a break. A rustling came from behind her and it took her a moment to place what it was. Ed stirred behind her, thrashing and muttering in his sleep.
“No…no it’s too much…make it stop…Al…Al, NO!” he clutched at the blankets. His hair had come undone and strands were sticking to the sweat on the sides of his face. A sudden clap of thunder made her jump, and cut into whatever nightmare he was having; he cried out and shot upright in panic. She rushed to his side, gripping his good shoulder and gently trying to shake him awake.
“AH….AH,” he yelled pained, gripping at his right side. “It hurts…it hurts.”
“Ed, what hurts? Where?”
“My arm…no…no!” he blinked awake at her grip on his shoulder. His chest heaved, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat. She grabbed the shirt she’d given him that was sitting on the bed and gently wiped some of the sweat off his face with it, unsticking his hair as she went.
He blinked hard a few times, still not fully lucid, “wha…what? Where am I? Win?”
“Ed, I’m right here, wake up, you’re here you’re in Resembool. You’re with me.”
His eyes started to focus, bouncing back and forth between hers. “I…I was in…”
“It’s okay,” she slid her hand up his neck and cupped his face in her hand. “I’m here, you’re here, you’re home. Al is downstairs, he’s okay too.” She scanned his side trying to locate the source. “What’s hurting you?”
His hand found the automail base at the stump of his right shoulder, “My…arm.”
“Oh…oh,” it sunk in; phantom limb pain. She’d heard of it plenty of times before but never truly applied that knowledge to Ed’s experience with it. She wondered how many nights he’d awoke frantically grabbing for his arm only to grip her metal handiwork. At least something was there those nights, this time there was nothing.
He closed his eyes and grabbed onto her wrist, pressing his face into her hand and taking a few deep breaths trying to anchor himself. The man before her suddenly looked a lot like the little boy she had known for so long.
“It’s okay,” Winry repeated, not wanting to say nothing.
He swallowed hard and nodded as if to convince himself.
“What was happening… in your dream? It might make you feel better to talk about it?”
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if to block out whatever he was seeing.
“No, no it’s okay, you don’t have to, it’s okay. What can I do?” she stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Do you want some fresh air? I can get you some water?”
“No,” his grip on her wrist tightened. “Please don’t go.” His golden eyes met her concerned gaze, and she nodded affirmingly.
“Okay, I won’t. I’ll be right here.”
“Will you stay with me?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion at his redundancy.
“Here,” he clarified. “Will you stay with me…here?”
“Of course, I’ll sit right here all night if you need me to.”
He looked away, hesitating. “Would you lay with me? Please?”
She blinked in surprise. “Sure I will.”
He scooted over, she slipped her feet under the blankets and laid back against the pillow. He eased himself down and as he settled, resting his head on her chest, she pulled the covers up over the both of them. They had slept together countless times growing up; she, Ed, and Al, but this time was different for them both. Before, the comfort was simply in proximity. Now, tangled up with one another, Winry hoped he wouldn’t notice her heart racing. If he did, he didn’t say so. His automail leg was cold against her skin when he rested it atop of hers, but the rest of him was hot. She hoped it was from his fitful sleeping, not that he was getting sick. He laid his arm across her, snaked it around her waist and spread his fingers across her side. She pressed her cheek against his forehead.
“You’re burning up, I hope you aren’t coming down with something.”
She felt his small grin against her chest. “Our mother used to check our temperature like that, too.”
Ed took a deep breath, stress leaving his body as he sighed it out. She combed her fingers through his hair where it wasn’t matted with blood, wrapping her other arm around his broad shoulders. She noted just how much bigger than her he had become, how small the bed seemed holding his frame along with hers.
The rain continued pouring down in sheets outside.
“I worry about you so much,” Winry said softly into his hair.
“I know…I wish you wouldn’t.”
“How could I not? I have an idea of what you two get into between visits.”
He huffed in response.
She decided not to press the issue. “We’ll have to get you cleaned up tomorrow, you’re a mess.”
“Yeah, yeah, you aren’t exactly ready to go out on the town yourself.”
She smiled, relieved their familiar banter wasn’t skewed by the strange newness of holding each other.
“It’s not my fault you came rolling up in in pieces in the middle of the night expecting me to put you back together. How’s a girl supposed to get any beauty sleep in these conditions?”
“Beauty sleep, yeah right,” his voice was growing thick with sleep and his head was getting heavier on her chest. “You’re beautiful.”
“You must have taken quite a few blows to the head,” she said, heat prickling across her face in a blush.
“Nothing as bad as you and your wrench. You sure know how to pack a wallop.”
Winry giggled, followed by a small gasp as he slid his hand up her shirt, fingers squeezing her side softly before relaxing and holding her as he was before. Her pulse quickened again at the sensation, not sure what to make of the gesture; she opted to assume he didn’t mean anything by it in his current languid state.
“It’s grounding to feel your skin,” he whispered. Then a pause. “I worry about you, too, you know.”
That was something she hadn’t considered. She assumed everything he and Al got themselves into kept him too busy to do anything of the sort.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he continued. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did.”
“You know how Granny and I busy ourselves, we keep things pretty tame around here. I’m safe,” she tried to assure him.
“You’re never safe, because of me…they know.” “Who? Who knows what?” she had no clue what he was talking about, her worry about potential fever increasing.
“They know you and Al are all I have, you’re all I love,” his breathing started to speed up for a moment. “He’s my brother, you’re my…my Winry.”
She froze, I shouldn’t make anything of it, she told herself. He’s not himself. She hadn’t seen Ed show much vulnerability in a long time; ever since the incident he had clammed up. Even before that, he had always been a hothead, not exactly the warm and fuzzy type. Now here he was, nuzzling into her and gripping onto her as if she was the only thing holding him to this Earth. She returned the gesture, holding him closer.
“Don’t worry about any of that right now,” was all she could think to say. “We’re all here and we’re safe tonight, you, Al, and me. We’re safe.”
“Safe…” he echoed, relaxing into her again.
“Yes, we’re all safe,” she repeated. His breathing began to level out, growing deep and slow. She thought he may have fallen back to sleep.
“I love you, too, Ed,” she whispered.
He squeezed her side one more time before his body became heavy against hers again, and he was asleep. She lay there for a few more minutes, running her fingers through his hair and feeling the weight of his limbs holding her. A soft smile spread across her face; she would have to finish her repairs tomorrow which would keep Ed and Al home with her just a bit longer, home where she knew they were safe, and that was all she could ask for in that moment. She drifted off to sleep not long after him.
—
The night didn’t take the storms with it; at dawn the rain pattered against the windows, though the thunder was now a low rumbling in the distance. Winry blinked awake, now on her side with Ed’s body curled around her from behind and his arm holding her body against his. His hand rested on her chest, their fingers entwined. One of her first thoughts was that she should get back to work on his automail, but she was far too comfortable wrapped in his warmth and didn’t want to wake him. If she was honest, she knew the longer they stayed there, the longer it would be before he and Al left her behind once again. He couldn’t very well leave without a functional arm. Just a few more hours wouldn’t hurt…he needed the sleep anyway. She let her eyes drift closed.
Ed wriggled a bit with a soft grunt, she could only imagine how sore his body was, but he didn’t move further than that. He lifted his head briefly, and she kept her eyes closed, hoping he’d think she was asleep. Seeing her still at rest he laid back down on the pillow and pressed his nose into her hair, breathing the scent of her deeply before he planted a kiss on the crown of her head. He softly squeezed her hand, pulled her closer against his body, and sighed.
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair. She could feel the tension melt out of his body before they both fell back asleep.