There were times when Winry would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and catching her breath whilst gripping the sheets tightly, eyes suddenly fluttering open at the images that seem to haunt her nights every now and then. She could feel her whole body trembling in fear and trepidation because she’s scared that what she saw in her sleep was true and that something like that was going to happen in reality.

Nightmare.

Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

She’d repeat that mantra in her head, eyes forcefully closing and then she’d try to forget the scary pictures that float about in her head. Right then she would hug her pillow and go back to sleep.

But the bad dreams gradually come back and Winry would try to ignore the hot tears flowing freely from her tightly shut eyes.

.x.

Al was crying and Ed was shouting out to him.

The boys were afraid, so afraid and all Winry wants to do is to reach out and hug them close to her heart.

It’s alright…I’m here…I’m here, I won’t leave.

.x.

When the boys come back from whatever they were doing in the far ends of the planet, with a broken armor and even more broken automail, Winry’s secretly happy. Even if she throws her wrench at Ed for being so reckless and not taking care of her precious work, her lips tug upward every now and then while repairing at the workshop.

The sound of Ed and Al training again and again with each other is like music to her ears, and she ignores the fact that when she is done with his automail and Al’s armor is transmuted back, they’ll leave. So she absently hums a little tune to override that stupid fact repeating over and over in her head that she knows will say that she’ll have to wait for them to return again.

She hates waiting for the boys, and sometimes she asks herself if secretly being a little happy that they come back to Risembool when they get into all sorts of trouble would be considered a sin. Her conscience tells her that she’s being selfish for thinking that way and she resents, but she still doesn’t take back her thoughts. Because, hey, they come back, and she’ll be able to see them—her waiting pays off.

But as she twists her wrist to push the last screw on his mechanical arm, she realizes that she has to wait and they’ll have to leave her again. If she wants, she could break it all up and tell them it’s not yet finished, but she doesn’t anyways. It’s her precious automail and what she’s thinking of is not befitting of a professional like her.

And that will only mean that she’s holding them down, and Winry doesn’t want to be a burden, especially not their burden.

So she bears the sight of Ed cringing in pain when his artificial arm and leg are connected to his nerves, and she wonders briefly how does he bite back those shouts of pain, then she remembers Al waiting outside and that immediately answers her musing.

She wipes a drop of sweat hanging below her chin as Pinako double checks, and she sees Ed thinking deeply with determination in his eyes. A part of her heart shouts with joy at the knowledge that she’s somehow helps him get back the fire in his system.

The other part cries in vain because that will only mean they’re going to leave again.

Winry says goodbye to them in front of the house, waving her right hand. “Make sure you two don’t get into anymore trouble! Take care!” she shouts so loudly that it makes her throat hurt, but she’s only making sure they hear her, so they’ll remember that Winry would worry.

Their silhouettes fade as they walk far, far away, and she’s still staring and waving her hand. Pinako shakes her head and looks at her with softness her eyes, the old woman is worried about them too, she knows it, and she fully understands.

They go back inside the house, and it’s sort of painful to take every step knowing that they’re not going to follow her inside. She steps in front of the window and rests her elbows on the sill, she’s staring off into the horizon again, thinking about Al and Ed, and if they’re doing alright, even if they’ve only left a couple of minutes ago.

.x.

She stares off with a blank look and Pinako glances up at her granddaughter. She sighs and blows off smoke from her pipe.

Winry hates waiting. And it’s kind of ironic that it’s what she does most of the time.

I already miss you two.

.x.

When she was younger, her world would only revolve around running around the grass fields with Ed, Al, and some of their friends, then coming back home, and waiting for tomorrow to repeat it all over again.

It all comes to an end when they left.

The death of her parents was one of the most painful things that had happened in her life, and she has never really gotten over it, the past still haunts when she sees families of three laughing happily with each other. It may be due to that that Winry creates a makeshift smile that others were always used to seeing, to mask the ghosts of the past that she does her best to avoid remembering.

The times she spent with the boys helped her a great deal, they somehow pulled her out of her misery, because she was still young back then and couldn’t really do anything but to laugh innocently and ask nonsense questions.

Do you think that they’d come back? Mama and Papa?

Trisha Elric was one of the most beautiful women Winry has ever met, next to her mother of course. And when she asks that question to her, Trisha merely smiles softly and brushes her blonde hair with her fingers, and gently says, “We’ll just have to wait and see what life will bring, Winry-chan”.

Then she leaves just like Winry’s parents, but a little different, because Trisha looked so peaceful and still too beautiful when she passed away, and Winry never had a glimpse of her parents’ death. And she wonders if this was what Trisha had meant when she answered her question, and she shakes her head because she still cannot comprehend what the older woman meant.

Winry could never forget that night that would start the misery all over, Al in a bulky armor carrying his older brother’s bloodied body, begging them to save him. It makes her whole body tremble the second she even thinks about it, so she hums the nameless tune that was stuck in her head once more.

.x.

La la la la. La la la la la.

Ed said that his pain was greater than his own. Does he know that it hurts her too?

How Winry wishes that she could see Al’s pure smile once again.

La la la la. La la la lala.

.x.

Winry reads all of Ed’s letters and holds every piece of paper dear to her heart, it is a proof that they haven’t completely forgotten about her and that she constantly thinks of their well beings. That they remember they care about her and her grandmother’s constant worries, and it makes her kind of happy.

Sometimes, she sighs and stares off at the sunset through her window, grasping his latest unopened letter or report, as he calls them, and she waits patiently for them to come back and fix whatever they have broken this time.

Then she wonders, if Ed finally regains his missing limbs, and Al’s body, would they come back? If there were no longer any automail to fix, maybe they won’t even consider going back.

After all, the house on the small hill was already burned down.

A startled cry escapes her lips and she finds herself still staring at the darned windowsill like forever. They wouldn’t really, right? They were her boys, after all. And if there were Ed and Al, there should always be Winry with them. Right?

It was like a law of nature, that she’d be the one to cry for them, because they wouldn’t for themselves. She was giving her heart out to them every time they left and she’d be the one who would smile when they come up the front door, because she was Winry, their Winry, and-and—

She needed them. So badly, that sometimes it hurt.

she needed to hum the tune so much, but it left her hanging, damn she couldn’t remember.

Right then she could feel her eyes tearing up and her chest tightening, so she slaps her cheeks with her hands lightly, because if she cries like this again, she’d be weak. And there needed to be someone who could throw a big fat wrench into Ed’s big fat ego, to stop him from dragging Al into all sorts of trouble.

That’s right.

So Winry shakes her head no and looks at the beautiful orange sunset through the window and merely sighs. She opens the letter carefully.

As her crystal blue eyes skim over the piece of paper, the corners of her lips tug upward and show a sweet, sweet smile forming.

.x.

Dear Winry,

Love, Ed

.x.

HomeHomeHome

Winry decided, with a smile and bright, bright eyes, that as much as she hated waiting, at least it pays off.