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Title: Come What May
Series: Part one of Our Sinner's Redemption
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Darius/Edward Elric/Heinkel, pre-Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, spoilers for FMA:B ending, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, survivor's guilt, angst, original character death, slow build (btwn Ed & Roy), referenced underage relationships, off-screen violence against women
Summary: After the Promised Day, with his alchemy still intact thanks to Hohenheim's sacrifice, Ed finds himself and his chimera team getting dragged into the shadowy world of military secrets in an attempt to keep Bradley's legacy from causing a civil war.
A/N: Warning for some kissing between Ed and Darius? (Do I really need to warn for this shit? Is anyone who's sticking it out still actually disgusted by Ed having a thing with his team?)
Couple of people have been having trouble with remembering Ed's squad, so I'll put together a listing tomorrow – today is con recovery – and put a link in the beginning of chapter 14.
You can also read this at Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction.Net, or LiveJournal.
Chapter Thirteen
-0-
Getting the promised files from Grumman hadn't taken long, and Ed and Darius had used one of the communal bathrooms in the male dorms to change into civilian clothing, while Heinkel rolled his eyes at both of them and Sabine snickered.
Ed waited until they'd passed through the city limits of Central before pulling open the folder Grumman had given him and using the light of the setting sun to go through it. And it was actually kind of good that Sabine already knew what he was up to, because there's no way he would have trusted himself to do that otherwise, given how focussed he could get.
"Anything?" Heinkel asked when Ed finally packed it all back up.
"A couple of smaller groups closer to the border, probably being supplied arms by Aerugo," Ed offered and Darius let out a disgusted noise from where he was driving. "I know, but our enemies like it when we're fighting against ourselves." He tapped the edge of the folder against his automail knee. "There's one larger group out near Fotset, but they're too far out to be the fuck-shits we're looking for; Wackett's lead is still our best bet."
"Wackett gave you a lead?" Sabine demanded.
"Mm-hm."
"The same Wackett who you used to have arguments about Bradley with?"
Ed offered her a grim smile. "It's amazing how tragedy will change your tune, don't you think?"
Sabine flinched.
Ed sighed and slumped in his seat. "I'm sorry, Sabine, that was crude. But I wouldn't be surprised to find that Wackett knew about the group he passed on because he'd been looking to join."
"Are you going to turn him in?" she asked, and Heinkel glanced back at him.
Ed shrugged. "With what evidence? Maybe he came across their tracks over the course of his normal duties, or happened to overhear it from someone careless." Not that Ed believed any of that; Wackett's map had been too detailed for him not to have been there before, or have got it from someone who had. "All I've got is his lead, and the fact that he turned it in on his own would earn him a reprieve under military law."
"So," Darius interrupted, "Fotset after?"
Ed slipped the folder into the pocket he'd added to the back of the front bench months ago. "Unless something more viable pops up," he agreed before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. "I'm going to sleep while I can. Keep your voices down or I'll pull out my knife."
Darius scoffed but, notably, kept his voice down, same as the other two.
"You want us to leave you in Rush Valley?" Darius guessed later that night, while Heinkel and Sabine were both sleeping in the back and Ed was driving. "Take her down to South City?"
Ed nodded. "Gives you arseholes something to do that doesn't involve testing how mobile I am without my leg."
"Spoilsport."
"You're welcome to walk the rest of the way."
Darius snorted and shifted in his seat. "Do you want us to snoop around town while we're down there?"
Ed tilted his head to one side and considered that for a moment, staring out over the dark road ahead of them. "Might as well," he decided. "Take a day, then head back up. I can do some reconnaissance if I get in before you."
"Be careful," Darius warned him.
Ed glanced over at him, nodded in response to the honest concern in his eyes, as much as to his words. "I know." And then, to lighten the mood a bit, he said, "Don't get distracted by some pretty-boy in South City."
Darius' head came down to rest lightly against Ed's shoulder, just enough pressure that Ed couldn't miss him, but not enough to actively distract him. "You're the only pretty-boy for me," he promised sweetly.
"I'm not a pretty-boy, fuckwit."
"On the other hand," Darius added, head still resting lightly on Ed's shoulder, "you're probably the most disagreeable pretty-boy I know."
"I will stab you."
Darius chuckled and his hand came down to cover Ed's thigh. "Promises."
Ed let go of the wheel just long enough to clap his hands together and activate the array to manipulate the carbon in his clothing, which he then set to shifting under Darius' head. Not to form his shield, just for the motion.
Darius jerked back as if he'd been burnt. "Fuck. Do you have any idea how creepy that feels?"
Ed quirked an eyebrow at that because, seriously, he was the one wearing the carbon fibre.
"Shut up."
"Both of you shut up," Heinkel growled from the back seat.
Ed glanced over at Darius and, seeing his wide grin, reached over and covered his mouth. "You can still get out and walk," he warned quietly.
Darius huffed, but he kept his mouth shut when Ed pulled his hand away.
Well, for a while.
They got in at Rush Valley about two hours before the would normally stop for dinner the next day, and Ed wasn't the only one who was glad to climb out of the car and stretch.
"Please tell me," Sabine said as she stretched her back, "that this wasn't a normal travel day for you."
Ed shrugged while Darius started snickering. "I could lie?" he offered.
Sabine rubbed tiredly at her face. "I'm never complaining about getting stuck behind a desk. Ever."
Ed snorted at that. "Now who's lying?" he said, before walking around to the boot and pulling out his suitcase.
"Do you want us to stay the night?" Heinkel asked, glancing towards where the sun was starting its slow descent towards the horizon.
Ed shrugged. "You can. I don't need babysitters."
"Sure you don't," Darius agreed.
Ed slammed the boot closed and pointed at him. "Just for that, smartarse, you can pay for your own fucking dinner."
Sabine wandered away from them, making her way towards the train tracks, and stopped just short of the safety barrier. Trading shrugs with Darius and Heinkel, Ed followed her, the chimeras following behind him. As they reached her, Sabine pointed one shaking finger down the line, past the Rush Valley station, at where the tracks crested a short hill, and said, "There. Just the other side of the hill."
It took Ed a second to realise what she meant, but then it hit him like one of Teacher's punches and he drew in a sharp breath. "The bomb?"
None of the papers he'd seen had said where along the line the train had exploded, just said it was the Central-South City line. He'd expected it to have been closer to Dublith, honestly, given where the most likely hideout was.
"Yeah." Sabine drew her arm back against her chest, her eyes haunted. "They said it was lucky," she continued, her voice cracking every few words. "Five minutes sooner, and the explosion would have ripped through Rush Valley. Five minutes later, we would have been too far for the doctors here to help."
Ed's mind caught on the 'five minutes sooner', his eyes casting over the space between the tracks and what he could see of the main street, couldn't help but calculate the distance to Garfiel's shop. Would the explosions have reached? Would Winry have–?
He was running for town before he realised it, only distantly aware of Heinkel and Darius shouting his name behind him.
First the message aimed at him, then the date, and now the proximity to his best friend and mechanic? He'd guessed it already, but now he was certain: Whoever was masterminding this had planned everything with him in mind. Left the specifics to their people, but Ed had been the target. And Winry–
She'd been in danger again. Because of him.
Winry was sitting in the main part of the shop, looking the same as ever, expression intent as she worked on some guy's arm while he sat there watching her with a grateful smile. Seeing her loosened the vice that had clamped around Ed's chest, and he caught himself on the nearest building, slumped against it and took a moment to just fucking breathe while he watched her work.
She was okay. She was alive. Those bastards had missed. They'd managed to wing him, but they'd missed her.
"Ed!" he heard Darius shouting from a distance.
Winry's head came up, her focus ruined, and their eyes met for a moment before she was shoving away from her work and running across the main road. "Ed!" she called.
He pushed away from the building and took a few steps forward to meet her, caught her in a hug that was probably too fucking tight, but her hold was just as desperate. "You're safe," he heard himself whisper, his voice coming out close to ruined. "You're okay."
Ed couldn't really say how long they stood there like that before he heard Darius say, "Oh, he found his girlfriend. Should have guessed."
"Shut up," Ed said, carefully disentangling himself from Winry. When he caught her rubbing at her eyes, he sighed. "Why do you always have to cry?"
"Shut up, Edward Elric!" Winry shouted, and Ed barely managed to dodge the spanner she swung at him. "I was worried about you! Because you're stupid and careless and you're always making yourself a target and–!"
Her legs gave out under her, and Ed jumped forward to catch her before she completely collapsed, people around them calling out in concern. "And you're calling me the stupid one," Ed said with a sigh as he picked her up. "Let's get you back inside."
"Put me down!" Winry ordered before hitting Ed's back with her spanner. "I can walk faster than your short legs!"
"I don't trust you to walk, you clumsy oaf! You're going to fall down again!"
Winry's only response to that was to hit him on the head with her spanner. Twice.
"I'm gonna fucking drop you if you do that again," he snarled at her.
"Put–" she hit him with the spanner "–me–" and again "–down!"
Ed dropped her onto the shop floor before she could hit him again. "Fine!"
"You're the worst!"
"You're worser!"
"That's not a word, bean-brain!"
"I just made it one, ugly-face!"
"Alchemy freak!"
"Automail freak!"
"Ah, young love," Darius said from behind Ed.
Ed waited to dodge the spanner until the last possible minute, ensuring the chimera would never see it coming.
"What did you do to my leg?" Winry demanded as Ed helped her to her feet, Darius whimpering about how his face hurt behind him.
"My leg is fine," Ed insisted.
"You're limping," Winry pointed out.
"I grew."
Winry levelled a suspicious look on him.
"I didn't fucking damage it! Why does everyone always assume I'm going to walk out the front door and step on a landmine or something?"
Winry pulled out a spare spanner and pointed it at him. "Because I know you," she informed him while he held up his hands in a show of surrender. "You do stupid shit like go north without cold-resistant automail."
Okay, so Ed didn't have a good response for that that wasn't guaranteed to get him brained with the spanner. So he kept his mouth shut.
Winry pointed at a chair. "Sit."
Ed sat down and stayed there while she walked back to her original customer.
Darius came over to sit next to him, Heinkel and Sabine following. "She's brutal," Darius complained, one hand held to his forehead.
"You really need to shut up about her and me getting together," Ed replied drily as he leant forward. "Let me see."
"He's fine," Heinkel promised as he sat Ed's suitcase down next to him. Then he stepped up behind him. "Let me see your head."
"I'm fine," Ed insisted, even as he let Heinkel check him over, wincing when he prodded at a tender spot. "I have a hard head."
"Hadn't noticed," Darius muttered, and Ed kicked him under the table. (He was nice, he used his right leg.) "Ow! You two deserve each other."
"I'll kick you with the other foot in a minute," Ed warned him.
"Me thinks the lady doth– OW!"
"You deserved that," Heinkel informed him, while Sabine started laughing a bit helplessly.
Heinkel had found some ice and forced Ed to hold it to his head by the time Winry finished, and she came over to them as soon as she'd waved her previous customer off. She blinked in surprise at Sabine, then held out her hand. "Winry Rockbell, Ed's mechanic."
Sabine smiled and accepted her hand. "Private Sabine Hamilcar. Ed was my squad commander at the academy." As they let go, she added, "You helped with the train, right? I recognise your voice."
Winry blinked again, then took a closer look at Sabine, her eyes very obviously catching on the remainder of bandages at her throat and hands, the healing scabs along her jaw and up her cheek. "Yeah," she agreed quietly. "I'd just got off the phone with Ed when I heard the explosion."
Ed couldn't keep himself from stiffening. "I'm sorry," he offered quietly, hating how his voice shook. "I put you in danger again."
"It wasn't your fault," Winry insisted.
"I know that."
She kicked his real leg a few times, until he glared up at her. "It wasn't your fault, Ed."
"I know that," he insisted.
Winry let out an irritated noise. "I hate your guilt complex!"
"I don't have a–"
"Shut up," Winry ordered, pointing her spanner at him, and Ed swallowed the rest of his words, eyeing the tool warily. "You have a guilt complex. Al agrees with me, you're outvoted, so shut up." She turned to the others while Ed closed his eyes and shifted the ice on his head; suddenly, he had a massive headache. "Were you four eating here?"
"If it's not too much trouble," Heinkel agreed.
"We're not staying overnight, though," Darius added as he stood. "Taking Sabine down to South City. Ed said he didn't want us around to see him hopping around on one leg."
"Shut up," Ed muttered.
Winry let out a quiet laugh. "That's fine. The house is through this way, come on," she directed, leading the way into the actual house. "Ed, close the gate," she called back over her shoulder.
Ed sighed and got to his feet to do so, leaving the ice on the table. When he turned back after latching it, he found Darius waiting for him, his gaze piercing. "What?" he demanded, starting for the house.
Darius caught him as he tried to shoulder past. "She's right about the guilt complex."
"Drop it."
"No." Darius gave his shoulder a light shake. "What did you tell that vulture? You're gonna take his hate and punch this son of a bitch for him?"
Ed scowled up at him. "Yeah."
"Do the same thing with your guilt. Redirect it."
Ed sighed, slumping against Darius' hold, and the chimera's hand shifted to hold him steady. "Easier said than done."
Darius ducked down slightly, catching Ed's tired gaze. "Do you need one of us to stay?"
"No." Ed forced himself to straighten, to meet Darius' eyes more firmly. "I need you two to get Sabine down to South City safely. And then I need you to meet me in Dublith so we can take these fuckers out."
Darius sighed and pressed his forehead against Ed's, edging at the line of acceptable public behaviour. "Okay," he agreed quietly. "Keep your head down and be careful; if you weren't their target before, what you told those vultures will make you one."
"I'm always a target, Darius," Ed admitted. "I'm fine with that. It's when they start aiming at everyone else–"
"I know. Guilt complex."
"Shut up."
Darius sighed again and brushed his lips against Ed's forehead before straightening. "We should get in there."
Ed grabbed the man's jumper before he could pull away all the way and used his hold to yank the chimera down for a proper kiss, biting hard at the arsehole's mouth for entrance, and not even pretending to be gentle when it was granted, swiping his tongue across Darius' teeth, forcing his tongue into submission when it rose to meet him.
When he started to withdraw, he tasted blood and swiped his tongue over the wound he'd made with his teeth. Darius let out a quiet groan, one that Ed was familiar with, and he flashed the arsehole a mean smile as they locked eyes. "You keep her safe," he ordered, "and you keep each other safe. And if either of you fuckers end up dead because you're stupid shits, I'm kicking my way through to the other side and punching you in the face. And then I'm gonna leave you to Greed."
"Don't be an arse," Darius whispered, even as a hand grabbed Ed's butt.
Ed smacked the grabbing hand away. "You can have my arse when we've dealt with this group."
"You can't die," Darius insisted, his eyes gleaming. "You promised, now, and I'm not into necrophilia."
"You're disgusting." Ed shoved him back a few steps so he could get around the table he'd somehow got trapped against. "Get out of my face."
"I said I wasn't–"
"I don't care. Shut up."
Darius chuckled at that, so Ed shoved him one last time, then turned and stalked into the house, leaving the arsehole behind.
(To be fair, Darius was probably going to need a minute to manage his hard-on.)
Dinner was fairly lively, with Garfiel making eyes at Darius and Heinkel, Ed taking turns sniping at Darius and Winry, and Winry attempting to get Heinkel and Sabine to tell her 'the stories Ed always avoids telling me'. It was a nice change from eating with just Darius and Heinkel, or the meals with the Hugheses and Mustang, where Elicia served as the main point of entertainment (mostly because, if Ed and Mustang started going, something was likely to get broken).
Ed and Winry walked the three soldiers back to the car after dinner and saw them off. As they were walking back to the shop, Winry quietly asked, "How much of a rush job do you need this time?"
Ed shrugged. "It's not. I'm meeting them in Dublith after they're done in South City, so I can wait a couple days." He glanced towards the train station. "I'll have to check when the next train going south is."
Winry stopped. "You're taking the train?" she demanded.
Ed sighed and offered her a helpless look. "What else can I do? I'm not going to wait for them to get back up here, and I refuse to give in to these fuck-shits' attempts to scare me off."
"This is what always happens!" Winry shouted at him. "You get all puffed up and stupid about your pride and then you come home in pieces!"
"It was only three times," Ed tried.
"That you managed to make it home?" Winry shot back. "And how many times did I have to run up to East or Central and find you in hospital? You're going to get hurt again!"
"Then I'll get hurt!" Ed shouted, and she flinched. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at them. "Dammit, Winry. You really think the possibility of a couple scrapes is gonna put me off stopping these fuckers?"
"It's never just a 'couple scrapes'."
Ed opened his eyes to give her a flat look. "Fine. Do you think anything will stop me?"
"You could die."
"I have no intention in dying."
"That's not how this works!"
Ed crossed his arms over his chest and put on his best firm look. "I am not going to die."
Winry threw her hands up into the air and stormed off.
Ed rubbed tiredly at his face. He knew that wasn't how it worked, but he also knew that going in expecting defeat meant you were already dead.
Well, Winry would be less likely to throw something at him if he gave her time to cool off – he hoped – so he side-tracked to the station and checked the train schedule. They appeared to be operating on an every three days schedule, and one had gone through while they'd been eating dinner, so he definitely had time.
Winry had already shut herself in her room by the time Ed got in, and Garfiel shrugged at him as he let him into the inpatient room, which he and Al had been made to use last time they'd been through, Winry and Garfiel in agreement that 'family cannot be expected to get a hotel room'. (And, well, he was technically a customer, this time, so he felt a little less bad for taking the room.)
Without anything else to do, Ed went to bed.
Conversation was stilted over breakfast, Winry still clearly irritated with Ed. Garfiel fled at the earliest opportunity, and Ed sort of wished he could do the same, but Winry grabbed his ponytail when he tried and coolly ordered, "Follow me," before storming down to his borrowed room.
Feeling a bit like he was about to face the Gate again, Ed followed her. He stopped in the doorway, though, when he found her standing in the middle of the room, back to the doorway, and cleared his throat. "Win–"
Winry pointed with a spanner at the bed. "Trousers off," she ordered.
"Winry–"
"Edward," she growled, turning to shoot him an angry look.
Ed kicked off his boots, shimmied out of his trousers, and got on the bed.
Winry, using the spanner to direct him, got him to straighten his legs together and took some quick measurements, then nodded to herself and walked out of the room.
"Winry?" Ed called after her, more than a little freaked out by the silence. This was... In all the years they'd known each other, silence had never really been a thing. They snapped at each other over stupid shit and called each other names and she yelled at him for being careless and he yelled at her for throwing spanners at him and...
This was wrong. This wasn't just about him putting himself or her in danger, but he had no idea what it was about.
'Just apologise,' his inner Al suggested, in that 'I'm resigned to the fact that my brother is emotionally stunted and I need to lead him around by the hand' tone that he had perfected not long after Mum died.
Winry walked back in, her head bowed over the temporary leg she was holding, and Ed offered, "I'm sorry."
She froze, her arms tightening around the leg. "You're sorry," she replied, tone flat. "Do you even know why you're apologising?"
Ed really, really wished she would just look at him, maybe give him a hint what he was supposed to say to that, but her bangs remained shading her expression. Left with nothing better, he admitted, "No."
She continued her course to the bed. "Of course you don't," she agreed, before tossing the temporary down next to him. "Lay back."
Ed sat forward, instead, pulling his automail leg up to his chest and wrapping his arms around it. "I'm not fucking Al," he reminded her, struggling to keep his voice even. "You're going to have to spell this out for me. What did I do?"
Winry's fists clenched at her sides, never a good sign, but she didn't pull out a spanner. Instead, she finally looked up, and the world of pain and anger in her eyes made Ed flinch. "I saw you," she said, her voice shaking. "Last night, in the shop. I saw you kissing Darius."
'Ah.' Ed closed his eyes.
"Why?" Winry demanded, her voice cracking, and Ed couldn't look at her. "Why him? Why not me? It was supposed to be me!"
Childhood promises were a pain in the arse, and he really should have cleared this up with her and Al a year ago, but he'd chosen the coward's way out. And now he'd hurt her. "I'm sorry," he offered. Took a deep breath, opened his eyes and met her teary expression. "It was never my intention to hurt you."
"Stupid!" Winry shouted, and where she'd pulled the spanner from that she was pointing at him, Ed couldn't even begin to guess, but between that and the threat of tears in her eyes, when she ordered again, "Lay back!" he listened, stretching his legs out straight so she could work.
Disconnecting from his automail didn't bring any pain, but there was a definite sense of loss when the remains of his nerves no longer had anything to fire at, and Ed set his jaw against it. The temporary didn't connect to anything, just locked into his port and gave him something to balance on, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, no added pain of connecting nerves, on the other, his mobility had just tanked. (And all he could do was hope those pro-Bradley fuckers didn't try any pot-shots, because he was only a little better than a sitting duck like this.)
Winry stood, clutching his leg to her chest. "Don't follow me," she ordered before hurrying from the room.
Ed sighed and rubbed at his face. "Damn. Damn, fuck, shit, fuck."
'Well, Big Brother,' he could practically hear Al saying, 'you screwed that one up.'
"Thanks for that, Alphonse," Ed muttered as he sat up and started going through the process of getting up when one leg was a deadweight. The process was so much easier when he had someone to lean on, but he grit his teeth and set to it; he deserved the snub, and it wasn't like he was a complete invalid. He knew how to manage a temporary.
He ended up in the kitchen, washing the breakfast dishes, because it was between that and reading old intel.
"She's mad," Garfiel said as he came in, waving a hand in front of his face. "Seriously mad. What did you do?"
"Something stupid," Ed snapped, because he really didn't want to get into how he'd fucked this one up. He should have told them. And Al deserved to be told in person, but Ed had no idea when he was going to get back to Amestris, and if Winry was in contact with him at all, there was a good chance he was going to hear it from her. Which, well, Ed would probably deserve Al refusing to speak with him, on top of Winry, but at least he could lessen the damage a bit by telling his brother himself? (Yeah, and the sky was green.)
At least Winry was too hurt and angry to be demanding details? That was a silver lining, right? (No. No, that was not a silver lining. Ugh. Ed hated silences with the people he cared about.)
"Did you apologise yet?" Garfiel asked, because he clearly knew Ed way too fucking well.
Ed sighed and nodded.
Garfiel whistled.
"Don't," Ed ordered before the man could ask after his misdeed again. He pulled the plug in the sink and shook his hands before grabbing the tea towel he'd set out within easy reach. "Is there anything to read here?"
"Books about automail and anatomy," Garfiel offered after a moment.
Ed sighed, debating between his options; none of the reading material to hand was really his thing, but if Winry caught him trying anything more strenuous than walking around the house and shop with the temporary, she might actually implode. So... "Anatomy," he decided, since at least that might prove useful, should he ever get impaled with a steel beam again.
Garfiel showed him to the shelf of books in the living room and pointed him to the chair that was the easiest to get out of, then left to go buy things around town. (Ed suspected the man just didn't want to be within the blast radius when Winry finally exploded. Truthfully, neither did Ed, but it wasn't like he had much choice.)
The first anatomy book he grabbed was way too dry to do anything more constructive than put him to sleep, so he switched it to one that looked a little more worn and found himself with a far easier read. Which wasn't to say it was by any means simple – it had been years since he'd actively studied anything to do with the mechanics of the human body – but it was sufficiently engaging that he managed to lose himself in it and didn't notice Winry until she spoke.
"Drink this," Winry ordered, before a glass clicked against the wooden table next to Ed.
Ed glanced over, his mind still half on the text, but it helpfully pulled itself into the real world when he recognised what was sitting so innocently next to him, and he shifted away from the milk. "No."
Winry's stare was icy when he looked up at her, and he felt his disgust warring with his oft-ignored sense of imminent danger. "Drink it, Edward," she ordered again.
"I'm not drinking that– that–"
Winry picked up the glass and waved it in his face, and Ed couldn't muster up the necessary fucks to be ashamed at the way he flinched back. "This is your punishment for being an idiot."
"That's hardly equiv–"
"You'll drink this," Winry interrupted, as she slammed the glass back down on the table, white sloshing disgustingly over the sides, "or you'll still be sitting here, staring at it, when Al gets back from Xing."
She didn't need to finish that threat; as soon as Al figured out what was going on, he'd hold Ed down so Winry could force the milk down his throat.
Ed swallowed and gave in to the inevitable, pinching his nose shut with one hand before sitting forward to chug it like the absolute worst of the bottom-of-the-barrel beer he'd allowed himself to be talked into trying.
As soon as the glass was empty, he dropped it back onto the table, then slumped in his chair, feeling vaguely nauseous. "I think I hate you a bit," he complained.
"Then we're even," Winry informed him as she snatched up the glass and stalked from the room, her ponytail swinging angrily.
Ed covered his face with his hands and moaned into them. He was going to need a drink, at this rate. Or a spanner to the head.
He didn't realise she'd come back until the book vanished from his lap. As he dropped his hands to look up, she straddled his extended legs, her expression challenging.
Ed stiffened. "Winry," he warned as his abused stomach churned.
Winry crossed her arms under her breasts, staring at Ed, and when he couldn't help but watch them move, she declared, "You're not gay."
"Dammit, Winry. Get off of me."
"No." She unfolded her arms and Ed had about half a second to feel relieved before she was leaning forward, bracing her weight on the arms of the chair, which eased some of the strain on his good leg and the connections of the temporary one. "You owe me an explanation."
"I owe you fuck-shit," Ed retorted.
Winry pinned him with an unimpressed look.
Ed slumped back in the chair, which had the added bonus of putting a little bit of space between them. "I'm not gay," he agreed grudgingly, "not that it really matters. I just...prefer sex with men."
Winry's mouth tightened. "I'm sure you've had a great deal of practise with–"
"It's not like I have a bedpost to notch for you," Ed snapped, and couldn't help but feel a bit vindicated when she flinched back at that, which quickly morphed into anger at being cornered. "Do you want numbers? Details? Get off me, Winry!"
She scrambled off of him and tripped over the ottoman his feet were resting on.
The temporary slowed him down, but he managed to catch her hand and pull her back against himself, rather than letting her crack her head on the low table behind her, and her knees took the brunt of the impact, making her grunt quietly in pain. They both took a moment to catch their breaths, Ed wincing at the angle his leg was in – the temporary was pulling at the port – while Winry clutched at his shirts, her face pressed against his chest.
"You're so fucking clumsy," Ed complained when he couldn't stand the discomfort of his abused port any more.
Winry smacked his side with one hand as she drew back, rubbing at her eyes with the other hand, and Ed bit back at groan at the proof that she'd been crying. Again. (He was gonna make a new record, at this rate.)
With her out of the way, he was able to lean over and move the deadweight of the temporary, settling it straight again, then leant back in the chair and eyed her, feeling more tired than angry, after the scare. "What do you want from me, Win?" he asked, and his voice came out tired. "You're my best friend, practically my sister; I love you, but not–" He shook his head. "I don't want to sleep with you. I wouldn't do that to you."
Winry's brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ed sighed and looked towards the small window at the front of the house, only the bright blue of the sky visible from his position. "What would sleeping with each other get us?" he asked, couldn't quite bring himself to look at her. "Even if I was staying in Rush Valley, it would only be a one-off for me, and you'd expect more, wouldn't you?"
Winry sighed and the ottoman shifted as she leant against it. "I couldn't ask you to do that to Darius, anyway," she admitted.
Ed frowned and looked over at her. "Darius? What does he matter?"
Winry blinked, looking as confused as Ed felt. "Are you not...with him?"
"Sleeping with him?" Ed suggested and Winry's cheeks pinked as she nodded. "It's not like any of us are exclusive, Win."
That clearly took her a moment, but then her eyes went wide and the colour of her cheeks deepened. "Darius and Heinkel?" she breathed, something vaguely worrying about the tone of her voice.
Ed pointed a finger at her. "Wherever your idiot brain just went, drag it back."
"Together?" Winry asked, looking creepily hopeful.
Ed covered his face, honestly terrified about what her brain was conjuring. "Whatever you're imagining, I promise it's not anything like the reality," he insisted. "Please–"
Winry grabbed his real knee and shook it. "Have you?" she demanded, her voice going up an octave. "Slept with both of them at the same time?"
"I'm not discussing my sex life with you!" Ed insisted, pulling his knee out of her grasp. "Fucking shit, Win! Stop trying to imagine it! That's just weird."
Winry flapped a hand at him. "Shut up and leave me my fantasies."
Ed squeezed his eyes closed and slumped a bit more in the chair. "I need a drink."
Winry lightly smacked his leg. "There's milk in the fridge."
"I hate you."
Winry snorted and the ottoman creaked as she moved. Ed glanced up to find her standing, flicking her hair out of her face and looking down at him consideringly. "Why them?" she asked just before Ed gave in to the urge to snap at her.
"I– Because they're there?" Ed suggested a bit helplessly, and Winry gave him a flat look. He sighed. "I don't know, Win. Because I trust them, and it's just... We all know it doesn't mean anything."
"That's not what that kiss looked like," Winry informed him before turning to go back out to the shop.
Ed levered himself out of the chair. "Winry," he called and she stopped, but didn't turn, "don't romanticise us." Because he knew her, had seen her secret stash of romance novels when he and Al had stopped through on the way to Central (and been brained by a spanner for snooping). "If one of them decided to settle down tomorrow, it wouldn't mean anything to me. I'd be happy for them, and then I'd go find someone else. What I have with them, it's just physical."
Winry looked back at him, her mouth curving down at the sides as she searched his expression. "That's terrible," she said. "Romance is supposed to be–"
"That's what I'm telling you," Ed interrupted. "There is no romance. It's just sex."
"How can it be 'just sex'?" Winry demanded, turning to face him fully.
Ed rolled his eyes, because seriously? "You see, Win, when two people are equally horny–"
"Oh my god, shut up!" Winry shouted, covering her ears.
Ed shrugged. "You asked."
Winry groaned and turned away again. "I don't know why I expected an alchemist to have any sense of romance, anyway," she muttered, before leaving.
"Well," Ed said into the empty room once the door had fallen closed after her, "that could have gone worse."
Probably.
When Ed's stomach dragged him from his book, informing him it was well past lunch time, he sighed, then went and poked his head out into the workshop. Winry was with some guy, chattering animatedly about some new automail design or another while she – Ed realised after a moment of watching – finished putting the cover plates of his arm back on.
"Looks like your boyfriend wants you," the guy said with a grin, nodding in Ed's direction, and Ed rolled his eyes.
"Not my boyfriend!" Winry sing-songed as she took the money the guy held out to her. "Thank you for your business!"
The guy laughed in that really irritating way that said they knew something you didn't, and waved as he left.
"Have you eaten?" Ed called as Winry turned to him, mostly to keep himself from bitching about people deciding they belonged together, or whatever shit went on in their heads, because he really didn't want to find out that was an open sore still. (After all, she'd apparently been one of those people, until she'd caught Ed kissing Darius. Ugh.)
Winry shrugged as she slipped the money into the locked cashbox under the table next to Ed. "Not really. Why?"
"I was going to raid your kitchen."
Winry snorted. "And you need my help to figure out how to use the cooker?"
He sighed. "I figured I'd ask if you want anything."
Winry shot him an assessing look. "I think I like you when you're apologising for being a thoughtless jerk," she decided, shoving his shoulder lightly. "You can make me a sandwich."
"I'm not apologi–"
"Don't lie. That's what got you into this mess."
"Technically–"
"Shut up, Ed."
Ed shut up.
Once in the kitchen, she directed him to what she wanted on her sandwich, settling down to eat it while Ed made up his own lunch. As he was putting the last of the materials away, she asked, "Have you told Al?"
"What, that I'm fucking my team?"
Winry was silent for a worryingly long moment, and when Ed looked over at her, he found her looking a little too bright-eyed. "Wait," she said, "are you actually the one–"
"Would you stop?!" Ed complained before taking a large bite of his sandwich. Around it, not even pretending to care that he was being rude, he said, "No, I haven't told Al about my sexual preferences. It never came up."
"Some things, Edward, you have to bring up yourself," Winry informed him a bit primly. "Or you end up in situations like this one, where you have to drink milk."
"Shut the fuck up," Ed complained into his sandwich, his stomach giving a twinge at the reminder of the earlier horror. "Some things you don't just bring up in polite conversation."
"You do polite conversation?"
Ed sighed and shuffled over to drop into one of the chairs at the table. "Some things you just don't bring up," he amended. "I've only told a handful of people, Win, and you're the only one who knows I'm sleeping with my team."
She folded her fingers together against the table top, something like understanding sparking in her eyes. "You're their commanding officer, aren't you?" she realised. "If anyone finds out–"
Ed shrugged. "It's not like anyone expects me to actually give a fuck about the military's fraternisation regulations, but, yeah, I'd rather not get into that particular shit storm. Ever."
Winry leant forward, her brow furrowing. "So, why take the chance at all?"
Ed rolled his eyes. "I would like you to envision the fallout if someone realises how much money they'll get for telling a reporter that the Fullmetal Alchemist is paying for sex." Then he took another bite of his sandwich.
Watching the play of emotions on Winry's face almost made up for the milk incident; she went from thoughtful, to amused, to horrified, to trapped somewhere between the last two in rapid succession, then clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling. "Well," she said with an uneasy sort of laugh, "I guess that would be one way for those terrorists to discredit you?"
Ed snorted. "Might even get them somewhere. Right up until some dipshit decides all I need is to settle down with some nice girl–"
"Or guy," Winry insisted, clearly warming to the idea.
"Don't go giving them ideas. Please. It's bad enough Mustang's trying to set me up with some imaginary lover, I don't need real offers."
Winry perked up at that. "Oh, you can't just leave that without an explanation, come on."
Ed groaned and slumped against the table. Damn him for letting that one out. "Mustang and old man Grumman wanted to meet, all three of us, away from whatever fucker's leaking military intelligence–"
"Wait." Winry's expression had darkened, taken on a more worried look. "Forget the imaginary lover. There's someone–"
"There's always someone leaking information," Ed pointed out drily, "otherwise, we wouldn't have near so many rag newspapers. But, yeah, the Bradley terrorists have someone in the military. High up, too, we think, but Grumman hasn't been able to pin them yet. Which means assuming phone lines are tapped and the post is being gone through."
"And you can't have meetings at headquarters," Winry added, definitely worried now. "Are you okay doing this, then?"
Ed shrugged. "I have other ways of getting in contact with Grumman and Mustang in case I absolutely need to, and I'm careful about what I put in my reports. We're managing. It's a pain in the arse, but nothing's gone completely to shit."
"Yet," Winry cautioned. "Remember what I said about you getting cocky, Ed."
Ed finished off the last bite of his sandwich, then quietly admitted, "I have more than myself to keep safe out there, Win. I'm not going to take stupid risks that's going to get one of them hurt, not if I have a choice."
"Just sex, Ed?" Winry pressed.
Ed sighed. "They're my friends, Winry. I feel the same way about my academy squad." Then he slumped slightly. "What's left of them."
"Guilt complex."
"Shut up." He shot her a glare that felt weak. "Why the fuck'd you have to go and teach that bullshit to Darius for, anyway? Now I'm never gonna hear the end of it."
"Good," Winry declared. "Maybe if he reminds you often enough, you'll stop blaming yourself for other's actions." She leant back in her chair, putting on a regal expression. "Now, explain the imaginary lover bit."
Ed very pointedly dropped his face to the table and took a moment to stare at the wood grains before he turned his head until he could see her shoulder past his bangs. "Mustang's code for meeting privately with old man Grumman was a double date. Mustang suggested I keep to that cover for the next time I'm in Central and Grumman and I need to meet."
Winry shot him a knowing smile. "Did you tell him where to shove it?"
Ed snorted and sat up. "I corrected his assumption that I'd date a woman," he offered, and Winry rolled her eyes. "But, yeah, we settled on alchemy lessons, rather than a standing date, because I can't put someone else in that much danger, imaginary or not. And don't say it."
'Guilt. Complex,' Winry mouthed.
"I'm going back to that book," Ed threatened, and when her only response was to laugh, he did so.
Dinner was far friendlier than breakfast had been, and Ed found himself telling the two automail mechanics about all the people he'd befriended at the academy. He'd told Winry about a few of them – hard not to, when he'd called her from there a few times – and she'd clearly passed some of that on to Garfiel, but there was plenty he hadn't wanted to trust to a public phone call or just hadn't thought to bring up.
He went to bed feeling far more cheerful than he had the night before, and was somehow completely unsurprised to awaken only a couple of hours later from dreams tasting of blood, a scream still ringing in his ears, and the agony of certain loss collapsing his lungs.
'Water, 35 litres; carbon, 20 kilograms; ammonia, four litres,' Ed started listing, forced his mind to turn away from the nightmare and focus on one of the few absolute truths of his life.
Slowly, his body eased back into a more normal rhythm, and Ed curled tight around his real knee, feeling nauseous and off-centre. "It was the milk," he whispered, winced at the shredded quality of his voice.
Wrapping his blanket around himself like some sort of messed up robe, Ed shuffled carefully through the house and stepped out the little-used side door, stopping as soon as he'd closed the door behind himself to just stand on the stoop and breathe, letting the familiar smells of steel and oil surround him and push away the reminder of blood. It was a balm on his nerves, and he tilted his head back to stare up at the stars.
For just a moment, he could almost see himself living here – or another town like Rush Valley – owning a house and having the option to step out in the middle of the night and just stare at the stars. No having to worry about the military and their shadow games, or terrorists using him as a scapegoat. Just a small town alchemist with a fake leg and only the reminders of nightmares to whisper in his ear each night. And someone to share a bed with, some faceless man who he wasn't afraid to show how broken he was, to wake up next to in the middle of the night and trust they would know how to handle his nightmares.
He closed his eyes and let his head droop forward, a helpless smile turning his mouth. "No," he whispered. "I'd be miserable inside a week."
The partner, though...
He scoffed. "She's putting crazy shit in my head. Romance: who needs it?"
The door creaked open behind him. "Ed?" Winry asked, sounding exhausted.
He glanced back, over his shoulder, and offered her an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to wake you. I just needed some air."
She gave him a slow blink. "At two in the morning?"
Was that the time? Ed shrugged and looked back up at the stars. "Go back to sleep," he suggested.
She didn't respond for a long moment, but then the door clicked closed and he felt her moving to stand next to him, dropping her head to rest against his shoulder. "Up, now," she mumbled before yawning.
Ed glanced over and found her wearing the same skimpy nightgown she'd had since before he'd joined the military, and he sighed before unwrapping his blanket from himself. "You're a pain in the arse," he complained as he draped it around her instead, because he could get away with boxers and his black vest, even with the temporary leg, but he was damned if he was going to chance her showing off a bit too much because she was sleepy and careless.
Winry hugged the blanket around herself and leant a little more heavily against him with a quiet noise of gratitude, her eyes sliding closed.
Ed rolled his eyes and braced himself against her weight as he wrapped an arm around her, in case she fell back asleep on him. "Win, seriously."
"Shut up," she mumbled. "I'm enjoying the night air with my best friend."
That...was a lot more direct than they usually were, when it came to labelling their relationship, but Ed supposed he'd sort of started it, calling her his best friend first. And, well, he liked 'best friend', as far as labels went, even if it couldn't really define how much she meant to him.
He looked back up at the stars and, since she was there, quietly admitted, "I was just thinking it might be nice, settling down somewhere. Be able to walk out my door and just stare at the stars in peace. Not worry about the military or terrorists."
Winry let out an indelicate snort. "You'd hate it."
He smiled at the sky. "Yeah, I would."
She nudged him with her elbow. "You can always stop by here or Resembool, stand on our stoops in the dead of the night," she pointed out a bit drily, sounding like she was finally starting to wake up a bit.
Ed snorted and glanced down at her. "Suppose I could. Maybe I will, once this shit's blown over."
"Liar."
"Probably," he admitted, turning back to the stars. Thinking of places he could come back to and stand on the stoop reminded him of another place that was turning into somewhere he could almost see himself calling home. "Gracia gave me a key to her flat," he heard himself say, felt vaguely surprised at it.
"Huh." Winry was quiet for a long moment, then she asked, "Did you want one for here?"
Did he want another key? Was he looking to start a fucking collection?
Perhaps he was: a collection of places to come home to, of people that he'd give anything to keep safe. Hadn't he already decided that the Hugheses' key fit in nicely with his pocket watch and lighter?
"If–" His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, couldn't bring himself to look down at her. "If Garfiel doesn't mind, I wouldn't...refuse one," he settled on a little lamely. Fuck.
"Nah. You're family." She nudged him with her elbow. "I've got one for Granny's place, too. Made myself a copy because it was a real pain to get in the back door without."
Ed nodded in understanding; having alchemy meant he'd been able to sneak in the back without any trouble, but she'd had to sneak out the one from under the front porch and bring it around back. And she had been supposed to be hidden. "I– Sure. If you don't–"
"Stop," Winry ordered, pulling away from him and lightly smacking his chest. "It's physically painful to listen to you trying to be polite."
"I'm not trying–"
"Shut up." She grabbed his hand and tugged him back towards the house. "Come on. I'm up, might as well cut you copies now."
"Okay," Ed agreed, and let himself be led back inside.
Interrupted sleep meant that Ed wasn't at his best, and neither was Winry, he was certain, but they both played it off well enough, substituting minor sniping for any real conversation and helping keep each other awake while Winry did the last few adjustments to his leg.
After she was done, they went back to Ed's borrowed room and, after some last minute eyeing – better to check all you could before you connected it, Ed knew, appreciated because reconnection sucked – Winry asked, "You ready?"
Ed squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, then nodded.
Without a word of warning, agony shot through the nerves of his leg, and he forced back the noises that climbed his throat reflexively.
When the pain receded enough for him to actually think again, he found Winry going through the familiar post-attachment checks, and he could never stop being grateful for the professional distance she held during this part, because he didn't want sympathy or coddling, something way too many people didn't understand. Even Al, sometimes, pushed a little too far when all Ed wanted was space to lick his wounds.
"Looks good," Winry declared, before getting up and walking around the bed, then climbing in carefully next to him. "Wake me up before you do something stupid with it," she ordered as she closed her eyes.
And then, by all appearances, went to sleep.
"You realise you're weird," Ed told her.
Winry didn't respond.
Ed sighed and closed his own eyes, wincing as a particularly strong aftershock bit at his nerves. Well, he couldn't sleep, really, but he could at least rest his mind for a bit.
Come What May Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 ||
Extras:
Ch 04 (Roy) || Ch 07 (Roy) || Ch 10 (Roy)
Ch 10 (Darius - NSFW) || Ch 16 (Ed - NSFW) || Ch 17 (Roy)
We All Need Saving Chapters:
Unposted
Dancing With the Devil Chapters:
Unposted
.