shmengels

[shmengels]

Don’t Forget

Fullmetal Alchemist (Edwin)

Word count: 3,893 - FF.net - AO3

Grasping the concept that love can come unconditionally is difficult for some people.

A chorus of 'Happy Birthday Ed!'s rung out as Winry Rockbell set the cake in front of the elder Elric.

"Jeez, first you guys manage to convince me to drag myself all the way back here, but then you just had to throw me a party, huh?"

"Of course, pipsqueak. You didn't really think we'd only bring you home from the west just to lounge about for your birthday of all days, did you?"

Pinako Rockbells tone was teasing, but to Edward, he really would have appreciated as much.

Ed never was one for social gatherings of any magnitude, and he wasn't afraid to show his distaste. His following comment under his breath about how he would have rather settled for lounging earned him a stiff smack on the back of the head by his trusted mechanic, and sort-of-fiancé.

"Believe it or not Edward, some people actually enjoy celebrating the fact that you managed to live another year."

"She's right brother! You should enjoy yourself a little more once and a while."

Ed only scowled but it was quickly replaced when he caught sight of Winry's teasing smirk. He lightened up quickly; after all, they had been down this road before. As per Winry's request, Ed was required to just accept that sometimes people wanted to do nice things for him, and that he ought to act grateful. Of course, Ed already knew this full well but his experience with charity hadn't had a good track record in the past. When people went out of their way to do things for Ed, they typically ended up in danger, or worse. His mind drifted off towards memories of the then lieutenant Colonel Hughes who had lost his life assisting the Elrics search for the philosophers stone. His mind also envisioned Winry, determined on doing everything in her power to keep him safe with her automail, only to be caught in the crossfire of his escapades on multiple occasions. His disdain was a learned trait but he'd been realizing, slowly, that not all gifts or helping hands were one way tickets to suffering. Not to mention the second part of the problem; it irked him when people thought they could just spring kindness on him then act like he wasn't required to return them with a favor. He was an Alchemist, he full well understood equivalent exchange. All those favors were piling up and he'd have to pay the debt eventually. But for Winry's sake he smiled through it, keeping mental tallies of all the ways he could possibly repay everyone for all they've done. Fortunately, some debts had more leniency than others. For instance, thankfully, all they'd given him so far was dinner and some desert. He could live with that much…

"Alright, just as long as you guys didn't get me any-"

"PRESENTS!"

And there was his other half, dashing in with arms full of wrapped boxes.

His smile faltered and his eye twitched.

As much as he could do without the fanfare, his presents weren't that bad. He'd received silk pajamas, picked out by Al during his time in Xing, along with various figurines of idols he assumed to be of a religious origin. Neat to look at but not really of any use. There were some old alchemy books Pinako found out window shopping. A sort of makeshift kit with supplies for taking care of automail, accompanied by some not so subtle suggestions as to its use. As well as a plethora of new clothes to fill out the wardrobe he barely had.

Yep, he could easily repay a few trinkets one day. Best to not dwell on that though, he was finally to the part of the evenings which he actually enjoyed. When they would all sit, and laugh together and just enjoy each other's company. More cake was distributed, and just when he thought he could consider his birthday officially over, Winry's voice called out from the kitchen.

"Hey Ed, could you come here for a minute?"

He sat up, shooting a glare at Alphonse, who was snickering and giving him one of those looks again.

"Uh, Yeah sure…"

Crossing through the doorway, he found Winry stood in the opposite corner holding a small box close to her.

He began to groan at the sight of yet another gift, but was too intrigued by Winry's strange attitude. The closer he approached, the more nervous she seemed to become.

"H-here."

She shoved the box towards him, causing him to finch slightly.

The box didn't seem to be anything special, just a simple wooden case. However, judging by the fabric on the edge of the lid, it seemed to indicate that it was meant for something fragile within. It was some sort of jewelry box?

He glanced confusedly up at her, to find her biting down on her lip staring intently at his face.

When all he could do was stare back dumbly for a moment, her expression growing irritated.

"Well, open it! It is for you after all!"

Ed returned his attention to the box, unhooking the latch and pushing up the lid.

Inside was something disk like, and glimmering against the rooms lights from the polished silver that comprised the object. Gently dislodging the item, he lifted it higher to inspect it better. Its chain followed it out. As he was able to get a better view of it, his mouth hung open as he recognized the symbol on the face of the object. It was the same that had emblazoned his coat for all those years. A Flamel Cross, a symbol of Alchemy he inherited from his teacher long ago. It's meaning: 'fixing of the volatile'. He had told her it's meaning once and she certainly seemed to catch onto the significance it held with him.

Reaching his thumb upwards to the latch on the top, he jumped when the device sprung open, only confirming the obvious.

"I noticed sometimes you'd reach for your pocket watch and well, you know, since they wouldn't let you…"

His shocked reaction had apparently unnerved her some, and her already quiet voice drifted off. He again examined the cover, a near perfect reproduction of the Flamel. He traced his fingers over the surface. This only grew his fascination.

"Winry… did- did you make this?"

"Wha-? Ah, No! Not really, I just went out and bought a plain old silver pocket watch then reworked some of the metal casing to make that design you had on your coat…"

She said it as if it wasn't a big deal. Somehow, she had perfectly adorned the watch with the cross and serpent he had worn proudly as a symbol of his mission. Without alchemy either. She really was amazing.

"Winry… this is incredible! I don't know how I could repay you for this."

"Ed, it's your birthday. It's a gift. You can drop the whole equivalent exchange nonsense."

"I know, I know, but how can you give me something like this and not expect me t-"

"Ed, really, how hard is it to believe that sometimes all we ask for in return is your smile?"

His smile? Ed was a smart man, some might even use the term 'genius', and he recognized the symbolism. She meant his happiness. Long ago Ed came face to face with these questions; what the material price of extra-physical concepts, such as emotions and life itself, was. He fully understood the properties of matter and the physical world, but Winry had a knack for working somewhere beyond that. Some place that didn't completely abide by set laws of equivalence. Where equivalence itself was subject to each's own perspective. Apparently, a meaningful gift such as this was worth his happiness to her. And eighty five percent of her life was worth half of his... To her anyways. Every day, Ed became surer that no amount of his life could be worthy in exchange for any of this wonderful young woman's. And yet she insisted. No, Ed certainly had yet to grasp what equivalence meant outside the bounds of the concrete scope of science.

Just as he did whenever Winry went off again, uprooting his laws and reasoning, he laughed and drew her in to his arms.

"Winry, you are so incredible! This might be the best gift anyone's ever given me. Thank you."

She let out an airy sigh into his shoulder that blended into laughter.

"Thank goodness, I was worried you might think it was corny!"

He clutched the pocket watch tighter, thumbing over the surface.

"No, it means a lot to me. It's another reminder."

She pulled back, looking up at him with curious eyes.

"A reminder of what?"

"That I have people that want me to be happy."

She blushed and looked down, her hands clasping a little tighter on Edwards shirt.

"Well, I wanted to show you somehow…"

"Win, you make me happy already, this is a reminder. One I certainly won't forget."

She returned the broad smile that he had, embracing him tightly again.

"Happy birthday Ed."

Four months later

She wandered out of her workshop that afternoon feeling slightly down. Edward was leaving today on another excursion to the west. He promised he was almost finished for good and she undoubtedly believed him but it was still hard on them both. Ed had been getting more antsy as of late, she could tell. He was bounding at opportunities to come back home, and then when home, spend time with her. She appreciated it greatly but she could tell he was tired. He'd been traveling for a few years now and he seemed to actually be homesick. She felt a little more disheartened over his condition. She knew full well he'd be back for good eventually; it was only a matter of time, but Ed was almost annoying with how often he reassured her it wouldn't be too much longer. It was obviously more reassurance to himself than to her, she decided. He really didn't want to keep her waiting, but the silly alchemist failed to realize that she'd been waiting on him for years. She knew her limits and she'd be as patient as she needed to be and eventually it would work out. She wished Ed would stop trying so hard to appease this fantasy that he absolutely needed to be home this instant. Really, what was the rush? They'd (sort-of) decided that they had their whole lives ahead of them. Was he afraid of emulating his father somehow, leaving her behind to a life of solitude? Or perhaps that she'd move on in his absence? Neither of those were ever going to happen. She wished she knew how to ease his mind but she didn't have a clue where to start.

Winry made her way to his room, expecting to find him packing. To her mild surprise, it was vacant. A suitcase laid open on his bed, not yet filled, but the intention to was there.

"Ed?"

She peered further into the room, silly as it might be, checking behind the door.

"Edward?"

She called a little louder, so that if he were elsewhere in the house he could have heard.

No response. She shrugged.

Wandering over to the items laid on his bed, she glanced curiously over what he'd take with him. She never really knew what Edward packed for traveling, but it wasn't anything too surprising. A few changes of nicer clothes, some work wear, a couple alchemy books and his journal. She adjusted some of the folded clothes, hoping that he wouldn't mess it up when he went to place it in the suitcase.

She had just turned to leave, when a shimmering glare caught her eye.

Set out on the corner of his desk was the pocket watch she'd given him for his last birthday.

Winry was proud to say she rarely saw Edward without it, so much that he almost seemed protective of her gift.

That, or…

He was keeping secrets again.

She strode to the desk and picked up the watch, her suspicions being confirmed when the lid did not immediately flip open. They were supposed to be past this whole hidden guilt thing! So help her if she found some angsty message when she got this thing open...

Despite her tugging on the lid, it would not reveal its secrets easily. Something about this situation seemed eerily familiar, but how he even managed to seal it without alchemy was beyond her. She finagled it with a spare screwdriver until at last the silver cover popped.

She could only stare wide-eyed when she found no message of remembrance or past regrets. Instead, staring back at her, in a photograph neatly trimmed and pressed into the lid, was her own image.

She was smiling brightly, she remembered that day well. It was shortly after Ed and Al had returned, granny dragged them outside, taking pictures of each of them and then one of all three of them together. For memories, she had said. The picture of her and the Elrics was hung downstairs next to a similar one of them in much younger years. Last she'd checked the individual photos of the brothers were framed and placed on the tables flanking the couch. She never was sure where the photo of her had gotten to.

Her vision misted over at the thought that Edward had been carrying her around, everywhere he went, always with him.

She knew he thought of her, but this meant more than she could have expected. She closed the lid gently, proudly admiring the craftsmanship she had embellished on its cover before taking it with her back to her workroom.

"Dammit, where is it?!"

Ed threw more papers to the side, checking under books and notes. He was not leaving without it.

Under his bed and behind the desk he crawled, tearing apart his room in search of his missing item.

He needed it on him. He regretted even setting it aside now.

Where was his pocket watch?

Certainly, he needed it to tell the time; that was its practical use. Winry had been correct when she noted that he should have a new time piece, seeing as how the military would not let him keep his old one. If he was still an Alchemist the story might have been different but it's shockingly hard to be a state alchemist without the ability to use alchemy. But just to tell time he could have went out and got a cheap watch at any general store if he wanted. No, he needed his watch right now.

Following a quick knock, the door to Winry's studio opened.

"Hey Winry, have you seen my pocket watch?"

She whipped around on her stool, pressing her back against her workbench, blocking any view of whatever complex project the gearhead was captivated by.

"Uhh… N-no! No, I haven't. Did you check the, uh… living room?"

"...No, I'm sure I didn't leave it there."

"W-well check there anyways, you never know!"

"Win, I know it's not there…"

Her face was bright red, which thankfully for Winry, the young man only assumed was annoyance.

"Well it must be in your room then! Look harder!"

"I practically tore the place apart, it's not there!"

"Tell you what Edward, give me a minute to finish up the… thing I'm working on and I'll help you look."

"Alright fine, fine."

"And check the tables by the couch, Granny forgets things there all the time too!"

"I'm not the old-hag but okay!"

His voice carried with him down the hallway and she heard the telltale sound of feet stomping down the stairs.

That was too close.

Just. One. More… There! She held her project up admiring it before replacing its original contents and racing off to Edwards room.

Downstairs, Ed humored her and glanced over the side tables on either side of the sofa in the parlor. Of course, it wasn't there, he knew absolutely that it was last in his room. In fact, he was certain it was sat at the lower left hand corner of his desk. He sighed, and made to check elsewhere when Winry's voice carried from above him.

"I FOUND IT ED!"

He raced into the room to find her stood smugly holding up his watch by the chain.

"Wha- but I checked everywhere in here, where was it?!"

"On the floor, next to the desk."

"There's no way I missed it there, I looked everywhere!"

"Well that's where it was! You always give up looking for things if they're not in most obvious place, then come begging for help, don't you?"

She knew that wasn't totally true but if she tried berating him, it might draw his attention away from the obvious lie.

Luckily it worked, just not quite in the way she anticipated. He let out a breath,

"Thanks Winry, I don't know what I would have done without it!"

He was smiling softly at her, relief obvious on his face.

Winry held the watch out for him, which he took hastily, placing it with care into his left pocket; the chain being attached to his belt loop.

"Now, you've got a train to catch!"

With that, he raced to gather his things.

"And remember to take care of your automail, okay?"

"Hey, I've made it this far without any problems, haven't I?"

She laughed,

"Maybe, but it's never too late to pick up a few bad habits again!"

He chuckled in response, before turning somber.

"Listen Winry, it won't be too much longer I promise."

Here he goes again…

"Ed, Stop. It's okay. I understand that there are things you want to do."

"I want to be here with you."

She gulped under his intense gaze. She did not expect him to be quite that direct.

"I-I get that Ed, but really it's fine. Just as long as you come back."

"I will, I always will Winry. I swear."

"I know Ed, I know. I've waited this long, I'm pretty sure I can wait a little longer."

Her attempts at lightening the mood seemed ineffective.

"But for how long? This isn't good for me to be away so much."

"Edward, you are not your father if that's what you think. You're not leaving me to wither away. And I'll gladly wait for you to get back, I promise you that."

They stared intently at each other, waiting for the other to back down.

And as per usual, Ed finally sighed,

"You're right, you're right. Sorry. I just can't help but worry."

She smiled up at him, placing a hand on his cheek.

"Sure, I wish you could be here with me too but you're not doing anything wrong and I don't think any less of you for taking this journey."

He looked at her in shock, sometimes he hated that she could read him like a book. It almost irritated him to admit something so mushy, but nowadays his biggest fear was that Winry resented him for not being there all the time.

"I know you Ed. I know that you need reminders to keep your head in the right place."

She took her foot and lightly tapped the shin of his metal leg.

"And you shouldn't worry, everything'll work out."

She pulled his head to her own, capturing his lips.

Ed's mind was as of this moment, putty. He hardly even noticed she'd pulled away until her giggle brought him back to his senses.

"Now you're gonna be late, better hurry!"

He glanced at the clock; departure was in just ten minutes.

"R-right!"

With one last quick peck and a sharing of goodbyes, he fled out the door.

The train bumped and rocked, making him incredibly uncomfortable. Trips within Amestris were fine, but as it turns out, international lines totally lacked the amenities one would think would be more likely with long distance travel. He rested his cheek on his fist, idly surveying the now familiar landscape of Creta. It really was a beautiful countryside. Large mountains that bled into rolling plains, perfect for the abundance of vineyards, gardens and orchards which dotted the landscape. He'd have to bring Winry here someday.

Winry…

The name alone made him homesick as of late. And he hadn't even reached his destination yet.

All he wanted was to make her as happy as she made him. He knew he had a lot of catching up to do on that front, and he certainly couldn't do it from a thousand-some miles away. Curse that woman, ever understanding, caring, thoughtful and patient. How the hell was he supposed to hold up his part of equivalent exchange? He knew she didn't believe in it, and that only made him more upset at himself. She'd give him the world, her whole life, and expect nothing in return. Meanwhile he had little to offer her but promises for the time being and despite her assuring the contrary, that just wasn't enough. That's why he worried. He wasn't giving enough, so how come he received so much in return? It didn't add up. And so, he worried; that she may move on, that she might not feel the same as he did, that he may lose her… It was like a little routine whenever he returned home: he'd be mopey, she'd reassure him, and he'd be ready to go back out and face the world again. But with every passing departure, the time it took for the doubt to creep back in grew shorter and shorter. This had to be a record time. In fact, it had only been…

He opened his pocket watch. It read 4:37.

Great. Only about five hours.

He shifted his eyes to the picture he placed under the lid shortly after she first gave it to him. He'd vowed long ago that he'd make that beautiful woman in the photo happy one day. He even read up on some jewelers where he was headed, and he hoped to pick out a ring. But in the meantime, how could she care for some idiot like him?

It was going to be a long trip at this rate. He wished Winry was beside him again with her words of consolation. She had been right as usual; he needed the reminder that she cared to keep him going, or else he wasn't sure he'd make it out of bed the next day. He had the watch, but he found that even that was no longer enough. He desperately wanted to have her say it again.

Removing the photograph from the silver lid, he held it up to the light shining through the window.

Sure enough, the sun wasn't nearly as radiant as her smile.

He remained that way for a while, determining everything he was going to do to give her the life she deserved, if only he could last through the next few months without her.

As he went to replace the photo in the watch, he was caught by surprise to find something behind the usual place of his keepsake.

He chuckled to himself, grinning down at his pocket watch.

It looks like he'd make it after all.

Carved, in a familiar manner, on the inside lid:

Don't forget

I love you

[shmengels]

A Passion for Life

Fullmetal Alchemist

Word count: 2074 - FF.net - AO3

The narrow dirt tracks, barely wide enough to accommodate a small cart, ran alongside the fields of Resembool. The weather mild and fair, the birds sang their hymns and the sun basked all with its glory.

Towards the end of this quaint country road, sat a yellow house. The Rockbell’s call this home, and by extension, so do the Elric’s. And that’s exactly what they were now.

Home.

Nothing about this scenario could have seemed more perfect. Life was peaceful now. No wars. No death. No danger. Just the quiet serenity of the hills and the joys of life. And best of all, Edward had come home, fulfilling his self-imposed duty to bring his brother Alphonse with him in the flesh. Oh yes, everything was perfect…

…And Winry Rockbell was livid.

“YEAH?! W-WELL YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER IS TALLER THAN YOU!”

“Eh, I got used to looking up at him in the armor anyways.”

With a dramatically loud huff, the fiery blonde mechanic stomped her way out of the parlor and up the stairs, leaving behind a very confused elder Elric brother.  

Since Al, and more specifically Ed, had returned, things were great! No. better than great! But at minimum once a day, she and Ed got into a spat about something. Well, really it was mostly her yelling at Ed while he stood there baffled. But that’s beside the point. Was this unusual? No, not by any means. What was peculiar is that she had no idea why she was mad at him. Always there was something. Whether it was ‘Ed doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut’ or ‘Ed didn’t keep up on his maintenance’ or worse ‘Ed tried putting all the blame and responsibility on himself again’ and at the expense of her own sanity, the classic ‘Ed was a selfless idiot who put himself in harm’s way without a thought for his own well-being’. No matter what, there was always a reason.

Yet, for the life of her, she couldn’t find one. In the few months Ed had been home now, he had been better behaved then she even dreamed possible. He volunteered to help with menial chores. He went out of his way to do something nice every once and a while for them or treat them all with sudden compliments. He’d laugh it off when someone insulted him, joking or otherwise. On a bad day, the worst she received was some grumbling and a scowl when she asked a favor of him. But he never attempted to shirk his responsibilities. One afternoon, she nearly fainted upon entering the kitchen to find Edward performing his own maintenance on his leg. Al insisted he hadn’t told him to do so, and Granny claimed that she hadn’t seen him all day, which left her with the unthinkable third option that Edward Elric actively chose to take care of her automail. This behavior just didn’t sit right with her. Something had to be wrong and that idea alone was infuriating her with every passing day. Trouble was, no one believed her when she attempted to explain her plight. Apparently, she was the only one who could see his very un-Edward-like behavior. Granny told her she worried too much and Al had the gall to laugh in her face. Sweet little Alphonse had clearly been influenced far too much by his older brother these past few years!

Even though by this time it was only mid-afternoon, her workroom remained dim and the air still. It was a sharp contrast to the breath of life that swept over the countryside recently. She wished she could simply appreciate it, but she was a Rockbell, and she’d be damned if she ever let a problem in need of fixing go so easily.

She shuffled some of the various schematics and diagrams around her desk hoping something in the pile would kick-start her mind. From deep within a stack of old designs, slid out an old diagram.

She could only stare at it numbly for a few moments.

It should have been tucked away somewhere safe; this was quite possibly her most precious design and here it was, lost among a clutter of forgotten plans and failed projects. She wanted to kick herself for not taking better care of this one.

In the lower right hand corner, written as neatly as an eleven-year-old could, were the now fading words ‘For Ed’.

It was her original schematic for Edward’s right arm.

She caressed the paper fondly, remembering how proud she had been when she finally completed her draft. Granted, Granny had helped her with it but it was still primarily her project. She recalled how she couldn’t wait to show him. She had bounded up to him, blueprints in hand as he sat on an old armchair doing his best to thumb through a book with only his left hand. He had been elated as she babbled on and on about all the intricate details of her masterpiece. She knew he couldn’t care less about the inner mechanisms of his replacement appendage, but she could feel the excitement radiate from him as he came to realize everything he’d be able to do again. His attitude had been so infectious then that it seemed to have bled straight into her as well. He was overjoyed to finally get moving and brimming with determination to move mountains to return what they had lost. Admittedly at first, she thought they were in over their heads but with each passing grin and reassurance she became more and more convinced that Edward could make even the impossible happen.

Her lips turned up slightly as she traced her hand down the drawing, stopping as her fingertips came into line with the sketch’s own. Though she may still have his leg, she secretly missed Ed’s mechanical arm. It had become a part of who he was after a while but she could only be wistful for so long. After all, Ed moved mountains and he achieved the impossible. She could never have doubted him if she tried. But that was also just who Ed was. As tactless as his methods might be, he inspired determination and hope wherever he went. It seemed at times like Ed’s purpose in life was to take the weary and downtrodden and those drowning in the pits of despair and drag them kicking and screaming if necessary to the surface. He’d never give up, she knew him better than that. As long as she could remember, Ed wore that trait on his sleeve…

Or more specifically, in his eyes.

The way his brow furled and his eyes lit up when he really got fired up over something was awe-inspiring at times. She enjoyed it, there was no denying that. She dare even say that she maybe, possibly, could have potentially picked a fight or two or dozen in her life just to see his eyes flare up so she could again find the warmth of the flames that were there. She knew it wasn’t seeing Ed angry that she enjoyed so much, it was what that fire symbolized. His conviction, caring, valor and strength. It was his…

Passion.

That’s what was missing.

She’d been searching for it behind his Iris since he got back.

And she had yet to find it.

Nearly knocking over her chair as she quickly stood, she marched briskly out of her studio to find the former Fullmetal Alchemist. She could picture every time his eyes flared with fortitude; from when she had first instilled hope in him with her automail to the day he walked off her porch to save the country. Winry Rockbell was not about to sit back and let Edward Elric’s flame die out.

Winry opened the front door hurriedly but found herself apprehensive to step out onto the porch. Admittedly she was too caught up on having finally figured out what the problem was, she didn’t even stop to think about how she was going to solve it. Mentally she berated herself for not thinking this through beforehand. For crying out loud, she was a mechanic. A proper engineer. A problem solver. This was not like her to go charging in without a plan of attack. That was more Ed’s style. But, she supposed, some things took precedence. Ed was definitely not okay, and to her, that was definitely not okay.

Surveying the scene before her, she could only gasp. It was so beautiful it was heartbreaking. The sun had begun its descent and early signs of reds and oranges illuminated the horizon. Wispy clouds floated endlessly above them, making their way to some to some other corner of the earth. Birds sang from the tree tops, the breeze accompanying their symphony with the gentle rustling of leaves. The winds made waves across the fields, as if an ocean of greens, browns and tans were laid out before them. The sweet aroma of the vibrant flowers which skirted the fence lines met her senses. In her front yard, Alphonse Elric, newly acquainted with his human form, laughed gleefully as Den bounded her way back with the branch he had thrown. And only a few feet in front of her, as the breeze lightly swayed his hair, sat Edward.

From the top step, he leaned back on his two flesh hands, his gaze not visible but trained somewhere out ahead of him. Winy felt a pang in her heart to think that he could not enjoy the spectacle around him.

Timidly she approached and sat beside him. He made no motion to acknowledge her presence, which was only making this whole scenario more difficult on the girl. She’d have to just be blunt and direct. But as she opened her mouth to speak,

“You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve had nothing to do.”

She lost whatever words she had had in her throat, leaving her mouth somewhat agape.

“It’s just for so long, getting Al’s body back was the only thing I had on my mind.”

Well, so far this was going exactly where she wanted it to, and without prodding. To say she was surprised was an understatement, though it would appear more outwardly that she was just letting him continue.

“There was plenty of time to do nothing, but I never allowed myself to really relax, I guess.”

She tried to lean forward to catch a glimpse of his eyes but Ed’s lengthy bangs hindered her attempts.

“But now, everything’s over and I have to decide what I’m going to do, at least for a while anyways.”

Her hands tightened on her legs. She dreaded to hear Ed say he had no direction in life.

“And you know what?”

She had leaned towards him more than she was probably aware, awaiting his words.

“I think I’m happy right here.”

At last, he turned to her, and she felt an intense chill overtake her body like a shockwave.

She saw something she had not seen in nearly eleven years.

Ed was smiling.

A truly genuine smile.

And his eyes seemed to glow brighter than ever.

It was then that Winry understood.

So much of his drive was built on hurt, loss, regret, and pain that the fire she had always known was a raging, crackling inferno. Wild and untamable. The fire burned in such brilliant concentration that it seemed everything around it had dimmed.

He had stoked the flame with every bit of suffering he carried, and when at last he ran out a fuel, the fire diminished to embers and ash to be blown away. When the intensity of the flames left, they made way for what the blaze had overpowered. The sun peered through the fading smoke, and the whole world was alight.

Deep in his eyes, she could see it all. Like a phoenix rises from the ashes, so does one’s spirit from anguish.

It seemed now as if the sun itself had been eclipsed by his pupils and she felt nothing but the comforting warmth of its rays.

Finally, she smiled back as well.

Together, they sat in peaceful company, both able to enjoy the tranquility which befell the land.

Granny and Al were right, there was no need to worry.

After all, she knew Edward Elric better than that, he could never lose his passion.

Now, he only carried a passion for life.

[shmengels]

Labor of Love

Fullmetal Alchemist (Ed x Winry)

Word count: 2285 - FF.net - AO3

               He was a middle aged businessman. A native to Rush Valley for most of his life. He sold higher quality automail parts at his shop on the other side of town and like many others here, he had an automail limb. Most of his left forearm and down was lost to an accident in his younger days. Though he wasn’t a mechanic himself, he knew quality when he saw it, and he knew that the young apprentice of Mr. Garfiel was nothing short of prodigal. It was common knowledge around here after all. The man sat idly on a bench within Atelier Garfiel.

               He had made an appointment for her first opening that morning, trying to beat the midday bustle of the crowds across the city, so it was surprising to find the mechanic already in the front shop with another customer.

               He looked down at his watch. It read ten after the hour. Ten minutes later than his appointment was scheduled for. The girl had simply told him when he had entered the shop those ten minutes earlier, that she wouldn’t be much longer before asking him to have a seat anywhere. So here he sat, waiting his turn, watching her tinker on a young man’s automail right arm.

               He felt as though he should be upset that his appointment was delayed by another customer, but he couldn’t bring himself to be. Everyone knew Miss Rockbell was nothing if not orderly and automail repair took time after all. Still, he swore he’d asked for the earliest available time.

               Glancing to his side he noticed her schedule for that day was laid on the workbench. Just as expected, it was completely packed from open to close; her services were wildly popular with residents of the city of amputees. Scanning back up the mechanic’s agenda, he saw that he was in fact the first name listed on the appointment chart. Slated at seven a.m. sharp. It was now a quarter after seven.

               He turned back to observe the current customer’s maintenance. Though, it’d be unfair to call it maintenance, it looked more like a total overhaul of his arm from roughly the elbow down. At least that’s what he gathered from the tools and scrap parts strewn about the place. By the looks of things, she’d been at work on the arm for a couple of hours now. How the boy attained such extensive damage to his prosthetic, he didn’t know. Poor kid, must have been a hell of an accident. And not just the recent damages, clearly whatever took the arm in the first place was not a pretty scenario to mull over.

               From his first impressions of the lad’s physique, he’d have to guess he was a farm hand; though the choice of clothing was perhaps a tad eccentric. Maybe he lost it to some machinery. Regardless of how, it must have been traumatic. The false limb reached all the way to his shoulder. He must have certainly been within inches of meeting his maker.

On the topic of the boy’s automail arm, it was...

Well…

There was no other way to describe it.

It was perfection.

                Only for a moment did he consider that it must have been the work of some unknown master, far from Rush Valley. Then he noted the familiarity with which the young woman weaved her way through the inner mechanisms. There was no doubt about it, she must have made it herself.

              The young man’s metal arm was faced palm up with the panel on the back of his forearm removed, giving a clear view of the complex web within. The businessman could only gawk at the pinnacle of automail design before him. Every wire, every rod, connection, gear, rotor, and hinge was clearly placed with the utmost care for ease of access, weight distribution, and versatile range of motion. Not just the design, the parts themselves were even of extraordinary quality. He’d seen many of them before passing through his shop or at displays throughout the town. They were on par with the most skilled artisans of machinery, and were generally reserved for the highest bidders. Many of these would have needed to be special ordered, they weren’t readily available at the drop of a hat. No part was either too large or too small. Yes, every piece must have been individually sized and fit for this arm. No replaceable parts to speak of. And it was clearly practical too. The metals used were highly durable, able to withstand literally tons of force. Yet, simultaneously feather light; relatively speaking of course.  The metal composition must have been handpicked.

For a moment, the man wondered again what could have caused so much damage to such a resilient limb.

              The arm may have been a beast, but it was beautiful one as well. If you removed the need for any functionality, it could have been placed alongside the works of the great sculptors of ancient Aerugo. It was made to have the appearance of a totally anatomically correct arm, perfectly proportioned to its wearer. It seemed as though it was made to not just be a useful replacement for the lost appendage, but to make the poor soul forget he ever lost it to begin with.

              The businessman hadn’t seen commercial automail quite like this before. In fact, he’d hardly seen better in the hands of military engineers, aside from maybe those ones they had way up north. The sheer effort of design, testing, and implementation for a final product so streamlined and optimized must have taken a month minimum. And that’s assuming she didn’t have other responsibilities to take care of, which of course she would normally.

              This arm must have been months, if not years in the making. Of course to a layman’s eye, they’d probably have guessed a few days. Now that was just ridiculous! To someone like himself, who had been around automail for most of his life, he knew the definition of quality. And as an entrepreneur of the industry, he knew just how pricey that work could run someone. He didn’t even want to think about having to empty his coffers for automail as good as this boy’s.

              He returned from his thoughts, noting that Miss Rockbell seemed to be at the tail end of a lecture on the practice and importance of a long list of maintenance techniques. The young man looked annoyed but listened nonetheless. How, he thought, this boy could be at all aggravated when he had a work of art for a right arm was beyond him.

              The boy stood up from the table at which he sat, walking towards a suitcase with a red coat draped over it near the entrance while the young mechanic milled about, returning tools to their correct drawers and shelves. He gathered from their conversations earlier, that this young man was apparently an alchemist. He could be employed by the state, which would explain the higher quality prosthetic, not to mention where he got the money to pay for it. However, at such a young age that seemed unlikely…

“So, how much do I owe you this time?”

Miss Rockbell looked up from brushing metal shavings off the workbench, apparently surprised to hear him speak. She stared blankly at him for only a second before closing her eyes with a smirk.

“Well I should make you pay double for dropping by on such short notice…”

The boy appeared firmly irritated before sighing and reaching to his pocket.

“…But I suppose I can manage with the usual payment.”

The boy paused and glanced back at her, somewhat perplexed. He grinned and continued to pull out a wad of bills, which he quickly thumbed through and handed to the blonde mechanic.

She didn’t even bother to double check the amount she was given before shoving it into her own pocket.

              This whole exchange was getting more and more unusual for the businessman. Normally when transactions were completed, a bill of sale was issued to be paid usually within the week, if not already covered upfront. These things were very professional, especially in a master craftsmen’s shop like Garfiel’s. But she didn’t have anything for him.

               By now, the young alchemist was sauntering down the street, being joined by an enormous man wearing a vintage looking suit of armor whom had apparently been waiting outside. Miss Rockbell, noticing them leaving, quickly ran from her tidying to the door yelling after them,

“And don’t forget to oil it regularly!”

If the alchemist heard her he didn’t react.

She cupped her hands around her mouth as if to make sure he would hear her this time,

“And call ahead next time!”

The boy didn’t turn, but merely raised his nonmetallic hand in a half wave.

She stood there for a few seconds watching them go, before turning back to the seemingly forgotten customer, smiling brightly.

“Sorry about the wait, I just had to finish up with him.”

The man wanted to ask about the odd circumstances of the appointment, but he let it pass.

“It’s quite alright Miss Rockbell! I know you have many folks to attend to.”

Her smile grew, content that he wasn’t upset by the delay, and went to gather supplies to begin the man’s maintenance.

              While she darted around the shop, he examined his own arm, comparing it in his mind to that of that young man’s that had just left. His was also constructed by Miss Rockbell, completely from scratch. Though, it was nowhere near as exceptional as the boy’s had been. His curious mind got the better of him and he finally voiced his questions.

“So Miss Rockbell, I wasn’t aware you took special orders.”

“I don’t.”

She hadn’t turned or hesitated to answer.

“Well surely you must, all mechanics here do. If a customer wanted to pay more for a higher quality you would, correct?”

The man was perplexed that she would attempt to deny it when the evidence had been in front of him no more than five minutes earlier.

She had now returned to him with an armful of tools. Sitting on a stool, she began to arrange them next to his arm which was resting on the workbench.

She laughed lightly.

“I have the same rates for everyone, and I always put my all into each and every piece of automail my hands touch. So, none of my customers should ever have to worry about any of my prosthetics being better or worse than another.”

Now the man was wholly confused.

“Sorry to pry into your business Miss, but that boy that was just in here, your last customer-“

She glanced up at the mention of ‘customer’.

“-he had an automail arm of yours correct?”

She watched him carefully. She was beginning to catch on where he was going with this.

“Yes. And a leg too…”

“I couldn’t help but notice the amazing quality of that young lad’s automail, surely it must have cost a small fortune!”

She had now begun testing the maneuverability of his fingers.

“I don’t make him pay any more than any of my customers.”

“But Miss Rockbell, I’ve rarely seen such exceptional work, even here in the automail capital of the world! You could easily earn five times the standard rates on a piece like that!”

Pausing in her inspection, she responded slowly,

“Maybe I could, but there’s…”

She looked thoughtful, perhaps apprehensive to even continue.

“I’m afraid there’s more put into that automail than I could ever give to my other clients.”

The man watched her grow more solemn, realizing that his worries of favoritism were not being denied.

She continued to work for a few minutes in silence before speaking up,

“To be honest, I wouldn’t charge him a thing if he didn’t insist.”

After a moment she became visibly uneasy, stammering out a more thorough explanation before the man grew upset at having his mechanic reveal that she lets particular customers get freebies.

“I-I don’t want to sound like I’m prioritizing my customers, which I promise I don’t! Only him! I-I mean-”

She sighed before continuing,

“He might not think so, but let’s just say I owe it to him…”

              So that was it. There was something more personal with the client in question. Yet, he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t offer this service up to anyone else. She’d be the richest automail mechanic to ever grace the field of mechanical prosthetics if she wanted to. Again, he tried to sell his case as to why she should open up to custom commissions.

“Miss Rockbell, I can understand that you may not feel the need to charge that young man more but please, people around here would die to get automail of that quality! I know you’re well versed but I shouldn’t need to tell you that in that arm alone are some of the highest quality materials, most advanced mechanical designs to date, the most precise-“

His frantic rant about her masterful work was cut off by the mechanic’s cheery laughter. Dumbfounded by her reaction, he attempted to finish his point,

“Miss, that was one of the best pieces of automail I’ve ever see-”

“Well it better be!”

              She was now grinning ear to ear, clearly proud of the high praise. She turned her gaze beyond the shops front entrance to where the morning sun was slowly rising higher above the mountains. Her smile fell ever so slightly, and her bright eyes became distant as if she were someplace beyond those peaks with the golden sun.

“Sometimes, it seems like the only thing I have to keep him safe...”