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batsutousaiTitle: Pieces of Me
Series: Paper Walls
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Lan Fan/Winry Rockbell, Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis
Warnings: Modern AU, meet the family, angst, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, dying character,
Summary: Okay, so maybe bringing her girlfriend home over spring break to meet her family hadn't been Winry's brightest idea, but, in her defence, she'd just wanted everyone she loved to meet once.
Ed's growth spurt meant she spent most of the rest of the day working on his leg, while he hobbled around on the spare she'd had to make him the first time she'd needed to take his leg for a whole day. He made his usual complaints, then went to visit with Izumi for a bit, before settling in to talk with – Winry could only assume, based on the lack of anyone pestering her – Al and Lan Fan about goodness knew what. Something that eased the murderous looks Lan Fan had been occasionally tossing Ed while Winry had been doing her usual checks on his automail. (Surprisingly, he'd only scuffed his arm a little bit, and she'd been able to buff the marks away without having to take his arm off, something she knew they both appreciated.)
Ed and Lan Fan not going at each other's throats was actually pretty nice, even if a part of Winry was just waiting for the other shoe to drop – she knew Ed, and he only ever played nice when he was up to no good. Hells knew Izumi needed the peace, and Winry managed to finish Ed's leg by the end of the night without his usual nagging, which was a nice change.
"Now? Or in the mornin'?" Winry asked she she brought down his finished leg to where he, Al, Lan Fan, Sig, and Mason were playing some bastardised version of Go Fish, which she had little doubt was another one of Ed's brainchildren. (He seemed determined to find a game that he could beat everyone else at, consistently, without getting caught cheating, but Winry knew all of his tricks, and Al was learning them quickly, so he hadn't had much luck, so far.)
Ed considered her from behind his hand for a moment, his brows carefully neutral. Then he sighed and set his hand down, face up. "Now," he decided as he stood.
Al grabbed his arm as he passed him. "And the cards you stashed up your sleeve, Brother," he ordered, and Mason started snickering, while Sig just sort of sighed and Lan Fan sent Winry a flat look. As if she had any control over Ed's cheating habits.
Ed huffed a bit, then folded back his sleeve and handed Al the cards he'd hidden there. "I need to find a better system," he complained.
"If you start transmutin' your arm to cheat at cards, Edward–" Winry started, waving his leg at him threateningly.
Ed held up both hands in a show of surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it," he swore.
She knew he was lying, because she'd caught him doing it before, but so long as she didn't have proof, she couldn't validate clocking him with one of his limbs, so she huffed and led the way up to his and Al's room.
He shut the door behind them and wasted no time in kicking off his trousers and sitting on his bed, bending forward to unlatch the temporary and letting it tumble to the ground as he twisted to lie flat.
Winry huffed a bit at the abuse to the temporary, but she didn't bother telling him off, since she knew he wouldn't listen. Instead, she shifted his leg and pointed at the knee joint. "Here, pay attention for a minute, would you?"
"I always pay attention to you," Ed promised.
"Horse shit," Winry tossed back, and he grinned at her. But the humour didn't reach his eyes, and she had to look away, back at his leg. "Figure you'll probably grow a bit more before summer, so there's a latch, here–" she pointed to the part she meant "–that you flip, and it'll lengthen just a bit."
"Winry, you're a genius," he breathed, so honest, she couldn't stop a flush.
She cleared her throat, couldn't manage to look at him. "It's only good for about a centimetre, so don't get so excited. And it's usin' a bit of the extra platin' that I'd've put in there anyway, so it might be a bit weaker than usual when it's extended."
"It'll keep me from limpin'," Ed said, his real hand resting lightly on her forearm. She chanced a glance up at him and found him smiling, so heartbreakingly grateful. Because he hated his automail, only used it because she'd made it for him, because it was necessary for him to get around on his own. But he didn't like it, didn't like the memories it held, and she couldn't really blame him for that. "Thank you."
She managed a smile that ached. "Of course. Gotta find some way to keep up with you, you bein' so far away and all."
"Don't," he warned, withdrawing his hand and lying back down.
"I get why you had to," she said quietly as she scooted her chair down his bed a bit and laid his leg out in the empty space where the real thing should have been. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Keepin' Al and Teacher safe from the military is more important than you likin' my choices," Ed replied flatly.
"God. It's almost like you're incapable of listenin'," Winry muttered as she carefully slid his leg into his port, checking to ensure everything matched up properly. "I get it, you moron." She straightened to shoot him a glare, which he looked away from. "And don't fuckin' lie to me; Al and Izumi weren't the only reasons you went to East."
"Yeah, well, if you'd fuckin' stayed in Rush Valley–" Ed started.
Winry wrenched the switch to connect his nerves, and Ed choked, jaw clenching and the muscles in both of his legs – probably his whole body, but it was hard to tell with his shirt in the way – tightening.
She shoved her guilt away as she set about checking the connections and replacing the plating she'd had to remove to connect everything. "You can't get licenced to perform surgeries without at least a basic medical degree," she reminded him flatly. "Hells, I'm not even supposed to be doin' this much without supervision, as green as I am. And don't start," she added, as if he was actually capable of interrupting her right that moment. (She shoved her guilt back down again.) "I know you don't want anyone else fuckin' with your automail."
"It's– Called– Trust," Ed got out, each word bit off like they might have been accompanied by a scream or a sob if he hadn't stopped it. "Idiot."
"It's called being a pain in my arse," Winry retorted, even as she reached up and grabbed his left wrist, giving it a squeeze. "You're set. Want your blankets?"
Ed managed a jerky nod, his face lined with pain, and Winry was grateful for the chance to focus on pulling his blankets up over him.
Once she'd covered him, she stood to leave, but he caught her wrist with his flesh hand and, when she glanced down at him, he said, "Night, gearhead."
Somehow, she managed to dredge up a smile and replied, "Good night, alchemy freak."
He let her go and she left the room, returning to the card game, which had apparently returned to normal Go Fish. "Ed's gone to sleep," she said to Al. Lied, really, because it would be a couple hours before he'd be able to sleep, judging by previous reattachments.
Al, though, just nodded, hadn't been awake and around them for long enough, yet, to know when she was lying, or exactly how painful Ed's automail was for him.
Lan Fan, though, clearly caught something, because she dragged Winry down into the empty chair next to her, then pulled it and Winry closer, wrapping one arm around her waist.
Winry allowed a quiet, relieved breath and dropped her head onto Lan Fan's shoulder, closing her eyes. Just for a moment.
A body held taut beneath her hands, she looked up, expected to find Ed's face lined in pain, but she found tubes filled with red, instead, draining down, down, down–squirting out everywhere, flesh torn asunder, and Ed was screaming for Al, for her, reaching out a hand that was disintegrating before her eyes, torn into by tiny black hands and some of them were starting toward her and Ed screamed–
Winry sat up with a gasp, clutching at the fabric of her nightgown over her thudding heart and staring at the nightlight that she'd never been able to give up, even though she knew light didn't stop those reaching hands, hadn't that night, had just lit them terrible purple as the energy of the array flared out of control.
"Winry?" Lan Fan murmured, and a hand brushed against her belly.
Winry swallowed, somehow managed to say, in a passible tone of voice, "Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep."
"Sure?" Lan Fan asked, her hand not moving from Winry's stomach.
Winry caught her hand and squeezed it, then set it back on the bed. "Yeah. 'M just gonna get some water."
Lan Fan let out a quiet noise of agreement and relaxed back against the bed.
Winry carefully climbed out, over her, and crept from her room. And then she made for the kitchen, rather than just going to the bathroom for water, because she didn't really have any interest in returning to her nightmares so soon.
Somehow, she wasn't surprised to find Ed already in the kitchen, standing at the worktop with a mug, the kettle heating on the hob. He glanced toward her, then immediately pulled down a second mug and teabag without needing to ask.
Winry dropped wearily into one of the chairs in the kitchen and rubbed at her eyes. "Talk to me," she requested quietly.
He was silent for a moment, before he started talking about some sort of energy transference relating to water alchemy, using words and turns of phrase that meant nothing to her. Which had been exactly what she'd wanted – needed; the memory of his screaming fading back into the darkest reaches of her subconscious – and she felt so much steadier when he brought the two mugs over, steam rising from them.
He didn't ask what had brought her down, and she didn't ask after his nightmares in turn; they'd had years to perfect their midnight meetings over tea, both of them scrambling for topics that had nothing to do with the horrors that chased them from their beds.
"Tell me about Lan Fan," Ed finally requested, his real thumb rubbing at the handle of his mug. His right arm was hanging down next to him, almost like it was broken, but Winry had seen him doing that so often, it didn't even phase her any more; she knew he was just treating it like a deadweight, too tired to act like it was actually connected to his nervous system.
"Why?" Winry had to ask, a niggling of suspicion peering through the shadows of her nightmare. "You been zonin' out when I get you on the phone?"
His smile was tired, but it lit his eyes just a little bit, and she knew she wasn't the only one who was starting to shake off the night's shadows. "Not answerin' that one."
Winry huffed and took a careful sip of her tea, then said, "Let's see... First time I saw her was across campus, durin' my move-in. Tail-end of orientation for the new lot, you remember?"
"Mostly," Ed agreed with a hint of amusement.
Winry made a face at him and his smile widened a bit. "She wasn't really payin' attention to their guide, which wasn't that weird, really, but she was a bit focussed on other people, sorta assessin' them, like. Same way you'd look at someone tryin' to pick a fight with you."
"Maybe that's what you do," Ed said into his tea.
Winry kicked him under the table, smiled at his scowl, then continued, "Anyway, it was a bit odd, so it caught my eye. And she moved like she was just waitin' for someone to attack her. And then she happened to look my way, and she'd got just–" Winry pointed at her face, tripping over the words she wanted.
"Pretty eyes?" Ed supplied.
"Arrestin', more like," Winry corrected. "Too far to really see if they were pretty, but there was somethin' about her gaze caught me still. Couldn't move again 'til she'd moved on to look at someone else. Saw her again a few times after, from afar, and she was always lookin' ready for a fight, always lookin' around like she was expectin' one."
"So, how about the first time you actually met?" Ed asked, and she knew he'd been paying attention the first time she'd told him about Lan Fan, because that was the same question he'd asked over the phone, his tone that exact same level of interested fondness.
She made a face at him, but obediently explained, "That was Ling's doin'. He got sick of us always starin' at each other across whatever open space, so he came over to where I was sittin' in the commons with a couple of my friends, and Lan Fan was followin' him with this–" she circled her hand at her own face "–full-on blush, and he sorta motioned Christy down a bit, then gave me this massive grin. Bit like that one you always do when you're up to no good."
Ed snorted into his tea, eyes nearly sparkling with amusement.
"So he says to me, 'I'm Ling Yao, of Xing, and this is my bodyguard, Lan Fan, who has a crush on you'–"
"Tell me she hit him," Ed pleaded with a hopeful grin.
Winry shook her head, grinning herself at the memory. "Nah. She just sorta got even redder and wobbled a bit and I reached out to catch her. Didn't really think about it. But then Ling, he gives this really loud whoop, like he's gone and won somethin', and that's what got Lan Fan to turn and hit him. And then she sorta sat down next to me and buried her face in her hands while he laughed a bit more."
"I feel like I'd really like this Ling guy."
"You'd try to kill him after less than ten minutes," Winry insisted, because she was pretty certain that Ed and Ling were way too much alike to actually manage to be friends. Or, well, friends like normal people thought of; they'd probably think they were getting on swimmingly.
"Why're you sayin' that like it's a bad thin'?" Ed asked with one of his more manic grins, thus proving her point for her. The idiot.
Winry rolled her eyes. "Anyway. Ling finally fucked off, but only to the next table over, because Lan Fan really woulda freaked out if he'd gone much further. And, once she'd calmed down a little, Lan Fan looked up and, yeah, she really does have the prettiest eyes, I swear. There's little bits of brown in them, so when the light's just about right–"
"Fuckin' hell," Ed interrupted just loud enough to interrupt her, but not so much as to chance waking anyone else. "Save that love-sick shit for the bedroom."
Winry grabbed one of the napkins out of the holder on the table and threw it at him. "You're the one who asked."
He grinned and lied, "I would never. Hearin' you go all gushy is never on my list of thin's to be involved in."
Winry snorted and mimed throwing her mug at him before taking a sip of her cooling tea. "What about you, then? Finally figured out how to settle down, yet?"
"Perish the thought!" Ed shot back, grinning. "I could never think of subjectin' someone to bein' your siblin'-in-law."
"Better me than you," Winry returned sweetly.
Ed raised an eyebrow, then said, "I really hope Al's smart and moves away from both of us when he finds someone."
Winry smiled, because she knew he meant it to be funny, but it hurt, too. Because the idea of Al not being there, not being able to check on him, see him awake and smiling–
And, too, she knew what Ed wasn't saying: At least one of us deserves to live happy and free from our sin. Because Al had slept through the worst of it, didn't really remember that hellish night; of the three of them, he had the best chance to live his life without the nightmares that kept Ed and Winry up.
She reached across the table and met the hand that he was stretching out in return, clasping them together and both of them squeezing tight.
"Yeah," she whispered past the block in her throat, "I hope so, too."
Ed closed his eyes, and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was: Al would never leave them. It wasn't in him to let them bear their sin for him.
And then Ed opened his eyes and tried on a grin that Winry knew had to hurt, and said, "So, bets on how long it's gonna take Teacher to throw Lan Fan when they meet tomorrow?" As if it were a certainty that Izumi would be well enough to get out of bed in the morning.
"Approximately as long as it takes for her to get us all outside?" Winry suggested, trying on a smile of her own that didn't feel real.
"Ooh, yeah. I guess Teacher wouldn't wanna throw her in the house."
"Not enough ceilin' space," Winry agreed, then paused to raise her eyebrows at Ed, because Izumi had thrown him indoors more than a couple times.
"Oiy! 'M not a fuckin' midget! And I was a kid then, besides! Doesn't count!"
Winry's smile nearly failed her as she pointed out, "You're still a kid, Ed."
His smile vanished and he squeezed her hand as he met her eyes and quietly said, "We're not."
For a moment, Winry was holding him down again, was watching his leg disassemble as black hands clawed at him and–
"Winry," he hissed, his grip far too tight on her hand.
Winry swallowed back nightmares and caught his gaze, stared into gold eyes that weren't in pain, but looked as haunted as she felt. "No," she whispered, her voice cracking, "we're not. Haven't been for..."
"Drink your tea," Ed murmured when she couldn't quite bring herself to count the years between that night and then.
"It's gone cold," she managed to say, looking down at her mug.
He shifted, and automail brushed against her hand as he pressed his hands together without letting go of her. Steel fingers motioned her mug forward, so she held it out and when he touched the ceramic, blue light arced, then steam started to rise from her mug again.
"That's a new trick," she commented as she brought her mug back to sip at the last half of her tea.
He shrugged, letting his automail hand fall back to his side, hanging useless again. "Not really," he offered. "I just haven't ever used it around you, before."
She narrowed her eyes at him, remembering study sessions the year previous, when they'd huddled back-to-back in one of their rooms, staring at their books and trying to pretend they just really cared about getting something done for class, that they weren't just trying to avoid sleeping. "How not new is it?" she demanded, because she'd usually been the one who got up to refill their mugs.
Ed looked away, but not fast enough that she didn't see the hint of guilt in his eyes.
"You little shit," she snarled, tightening her grip on his hand until he winced.
"It'srelatedtoflamealchemy!" he got out in a rush.
Winry didn't need to ask him to repeat that, because 'flame alchemy' was one phrase she'd always recognise, and she quickly set her tea aside. "I'm full," she announced, even though she wasn't, not even a little bit.
Ed's smile was a terrible, broken thing, and she had to look away, because if she couldn't bring herself to drink something that'd been reheated with that horrible alchemy, how must he feel to know it? To use it?
(She didn't ask why he'd decided to study it, didn't have to: Ed always looked to master the worst alchemy, because then he didn't have to be afraid of it. Could fight back against it, should he ever find himself faced with it. Could, maybe, step forward and, next time Mustang decided to burn down a few small towns to win a war, stop him before someone else lost everything.)
Ed squeezed her hand again, then drew his hand away, catching the handle of first her mug, then his own as he stood. "Think I might try sleepin' again. You?"
Winry sighed and nodded. "Yeah." She let out a quiet, humourless laugh as he poured out their tea in the sink. "Fuck. I told Lan Fan I was just getting' some water. I hope she went back to sleep, instead of waitin' up for me."
Ed looked back at her, his eyes shadowed. "Have you told her?"
"What? That we decided to play god?" Winry shot back.
Ed flinched, his mouth tightening.
Winry closed her eyes and rubbed them roughly. "No," she admitted quietly. "I haven't told her anythin'. Didn't even tell her 'bout your automail 'til we'd got on the train, or 'bout Izumi 'til we'd got here."
A hand touched her right shoulder, and she looked up into Ed's eyes, as tired and old as she felt. "Do you love her?" he asked quietly.
Winry swallowed and nodded, because she couldn't have lied to him, even if she'd wanted to; he knew her far too well.
Ed squeezed her shoulder. "Tell her. Somethin', at least. Not– Not about the taboo, maybe, but, bein' there, for my automail. That'd explain rough nights, right?"
She tried a smile. "Listen to you, givin' love advice. You haven't had a relationship that's last more'n a month."
He smiled back, tired and falling sort of his eyes. "Yeah, well. Seen enough relationships that work to extrapolate."
"Science freak."
"Mechanics freak."
She reached up and knocked her knuckles against his right arm, steel hidden under his long sleeves, but still all too easy to feel. (She wondered, a bit distantly, if there was some way she could disguise that for him.) "Thanks."
His smile lifted a bit, lit his eyes just enough to be obvious. "What're big brothers for?"
"Three months, Edward!" Winry snapped, reaching up and flicking his chin before he could step back out of range.
"Those three months are important," he insisted, laughter in his voice.
"Pretty sure," she retorted as she stood, "that height trumps age, little brother."
His eyes went wide for a moment, apparently unable to process that, and then he let out a quiet snarl and pointed at her. "Tomorrow. You and me in the sparrin' ring."
She flashed him a smile with teeth. "You're on," she promised.
He glowered at her for another couple seconds, then made a show of turning his nose up and stalking from the room, uneven footsteps sounding his retreat.
Winry waited until he was on the stairs before following. Lan Fan, thankfully, didn't seem to be awake when she crept back into her room, so she breathed out a sigh of relief and climbed back into bed to sleep without having to explain herself.
When Winry made it downstairs that morning with Lan Fan, they found Izumi standing determinedly over the hob. Al was trying to get her to sit down and let him handle the cooking, while Sig was hovering nearby, looking a bit helpless.
Winry smiled at Lan Fan and suggested, "Have a seat," then walked over to the cooker and reached between Al and Izumi to snatch the spatula out of the latter's hand.
Al shut up, while Izumi turned to glare at her.
Winry smiled back and chirped, "Good morning, Izumi!" Then she very firmly elbowed her way closer to the hob, accidentally-on-purpose getting Izumi to step back a couple steps, into Sig's waiting arms. "I'll handle breakfast, then!" she called.
Izumi slumped a bit and led herself be led over to the table by Sig.
"Thank you," Al breathed as Winry took in the meal in the works and set about keeping things from burning. "I've been tryin' to get her to sit down for almost ten minutes."
Winry raised an eyebrow at him. "I know you missed a couple years," she said flatly, studiously ignoring his flinch, "but that shouldn'ta given you any trouble in figurin' out that you've gotta be firm with her. Seriously, Al. I figured that much out after a week in this place."
"I suppose," Al mumbled.
Winry reached out and ruffled his hair. "Ed still sleepin'?"
"You know Brother," Al said with a huff. "He'll show up soon as the food's ready and not a second sooner."
Which was...about what happened, unsurprisingly. Not that Winry really blamed him for sleeping in as long as he could; if not for Lan Fan getting up, she'd probably have slept in for another couple hours herself. Or, well. As long as Ed and Izumi'd let her.
Izumi must have made a proper introduction while Winry'd been distracted with the food, because she was listening to Lan Fan explain a Xingan move when Winry and Al started bringing the food over. Which, go figure, of course fighting would be the thing Izumi would end up relating to best with Lan Fan. (At least they could relate; Winry could almost imagine the heavy silence over the table if Lan Fan hadn't had anything in common with her family. As it was, they all had fighting, and Al managed to at least pretend interest in Xingan politics.)
After breakfast, Izumi gave them a little over an hour to get dressed and let their stomachs settle a bit, then ordered Winry, Ed, and Al outside to "Check that none of you've been slacking without me breathing down your necks."
Of course they hadn't; Winry'd taken to training a bit with Ling and Lan Fan, once she'd admitted that she knew some hand-to-hand fighting, and Ed was probably still picking fights with anyone who looked at him funny, just because he could. And, of course, of all of them, Al was the least likely to slack off, given he was living under the same roof as Izumi, still, bedridden or not.
Lan Fan ended up coming out with them, and while Izumi didn't end up throwing her immediately, she did end up throwing her, and Winry probably shouldn't have been so amused at the shocked expression that had crossed Lan Fan's face right before she face-planted in the dirt, but at least she hadn't started laughing, unlike Ed.
Judging by the way Lan Fan sprung to her feet and went after Ed with narrowed eyes, Winry was pretty certain she wouldn't have to try and soothe her bruised pride with stories of how Izumi always got each one of them, no matter how prepared they were for her. (Also, bad health or no, Izumi was a force to be reckoned with; Winry absolutely believed the stories of her wrestling the giant bears of Briggs and winning.)
Winry didn't get to enjoy the sight of Lan Fan attempting to beat some manners into Ed – she wished her much luck – because Izumi had her sparring with Al, since the other two were occupied.
About forty-five minutes into their fighting practice, Izumi was shouting corrections at Al – who was sparring with Lan Fan, and holding his own a lot better than Winry usually could – when she choked, and covered her mouth just in time to catch most of the blood she coughed up.
They all immediately stopped what they were doing, Winry and Ed hurrying over to Izumi's sides and each grabbing a shoulder. "Perhaps it's time to lie down for a bit," Winry suggested gently, even as they very firmly turned her back toward the house.
"Yeah. Not fair if you're spewin' blood at us at the same time as you're whoopin' our arses," Ed agreed with false cheer, before stepping forward to catch the door, holding it open for Winry and Izumi.
"Don't want to have to wash it out of your clothing anyway," Izumi muttered, and she sounded so tired. Like she was only making the retort because it was expected.
Winry glanced up at Ed and found her heartbreak reflected in his eyes.
"You know," Ed offered, his smile looking like it was pasted into place, "there's an array for that."
Izumi's glare was every bit as strong as she wasn't, and Winry felt a little bit more hopeful at that show that she hadn't given up yet.
"What," she hissed, blood staining her lips and teeth and making her look even more terrifying than usual, "have I told you about using alchemy for chores?"
"Not to!" Ed sang back, before ducking hurriedly around them, well out of Izumi's range, and turned back the quilt on her and Sig's bed.
"Most disobedient little shit I know," Izumi muttered, and Winry managed a small grin at that.
"I'm a perfectly normal size!" Ed insisted, and Winry's grin felt a little easier.
Izumi opened her mouth to say something back, but what came out was a cough, and blood sprayed over the floor and parts of the quilt.
"Sure you don't want me to clean that the easy way?" Ed asked, forced humour in his words.
"We'll handle it," Winry insisted when Izumi frowned down at the blood. "You just lay down for a bit."
Izumi finally let herself be helped into bed, and Winry checked the pill bottle Doc Richardson had left while Ed helped fluff her pillows and bit and tucked her in with the unstained blankets.
Since the directions on the bottle said Izumi should take one in the event of a flare-up, Winry quickly shook out a pill and handed it over with water. "Take this, okay? And then get a bit of rest while we go back to beatin' each other up. And one of us'll come wake you in an hour or so."
"Fine," Izumi grumbled once she'd taken the pill, holding the water glass out for Winry to take. "Don't start slacking because I'm not out there."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Winry promised, hopefully loud enough to cover Ed's snort.
The glare Izumi shot him said she hadn't quite managed it.
Ed retreated with the stained quilt, and came back before Winry could leave with stuff to clean up the blood on the floor, so they double-teamed that, then left Izumi to her nap.
"Fuck," Ed said once the door to her room had been closed behind them.
"Yeah," Winry whispered, swallowing back tears.
He squeezed her shoulder, then took a deep breath, straightened, and pasted on a wide grin that almost looked real. "I'm gonna whoop your girlfriend's arse," he promised. And he almost sounded right. Close enough to fool Lan Fan, maybe even Al, but Winry knew him too well.
She also knew he was right, so she forced into place her own wide grin, flashing teeth, and shot back, "Maybe in your dreams."
They stepped back outside, bickering, and Winry caught Al's shoulders slumping with relief, and Lan Fan relaxing a bit, and she knew that they, at least, bought that everything would be okay.
It was for the best.
They did not, in fact, wake Izumi in an hour or so. Instead, after filling Sig in, it was decided she was better left to sleep through lunch, and then he sent them all out with a list of errands, so he was the only one there to face Izumi's wrath when she woke on her own. (Sig, Winry was fairly certain, was secretly a saint.)
That night, after they'd retired to Winry's room, Lan Fan caught her arm and quietly asked, "Are you okay?"
Winry stared at her for a long moment, swallowing what might have been a sob, and then shook her head, because it was pretty obvious, she thought, that she wasn't actually doing that well.
"Your mother?" Lan Fan suggested gently.
It seemed so odd to hear Izumi called that, though it was far from the first time, and Winry had been known to refer to her as her mum, just to avoid having to explain her origins to people who couldn't hope to understand what it meant to be one of the only three survivors of a tragedy. And, legally, Izumi was their mother, adopted though she was, and Winry couldn't never be more grateful that she'd been willing to take them in, even after everything. But, when she thought the word 'mother', it was her mum that she envisioned, not Izumi, so there was always a bit of a mental jog she had to do.
Winry nodded, then shook her head, then huffed a bit and rubbed at her eyes as she let herself drop tiredly back onto her bed. "Izumi, a bit," she admitted quietly. And then, remembering Ed's suggestion the night before, offered, "But, also, working on Ed's automail..." She shrugged a bit and peeked up at Lan Fan through her fingers. "I helped, with his surgery. I just...dreamt about it. Last night."
Understanding lit Lan Fan's eyes, and she sat down next to Winry, drawing her into a hug. "It is painful, the surgery?" she asked, though her tone said she'd already heard enough horror stories to have a pretty good idea.
"It's agony," Winry whispered, seeing again – always, forever, this was her punishment – the way Ed's face had contorted, nothing but pain in every line. "I had to help hold him down, 'cause you can't connect the nerves with anaesthesia, and it's– the pain, it would wake you up, so they can't–" She choked, squeezed her eyes shut, and Ed's face was waiting behind her eyelids, twisted in pain, and she could almost feel the way he'd been so tense under her–
Lips pressed against hers, and Winry gasped against Lan Fan's mouth, eyes opening wide and tears rolling down her cheeks as they came loose. The memories, though, faded back into the darkest reaches of her subconscious as Lan Fan pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "The past," she said quietly, carefully, like she was weighing each word before she spoke it, checking to ensure it was the one she wanted, "is the past. It cannot be undone. But it can stay in the past, as you are not. You are here, now, with me. With your brothers, who are not in pain, who are awake. Focus on this."
Winry stared at her, turning that idea over in her mind. It wasn't quite perfect, because the past would always haunt her present, could be found in the empty space when Mum and Dad and Granny should have been, in the gleam of steel that Ed always tried to keep hidden, and in the shadows lurking in the night, little black hands ever out of reach.
But she thought, for the moment, that she could manage to forget those nightmares and focus on what was in front of her. Because, yes, Al was awake and Ed had two arms and two legs and he still hated milk and hated how short he was, even though he wasn't that short any more. And Winry had this beautiful, kind, perfect girl sitting next to her, and maybe she didn't deserve to find happiness, but she wouldn't be human if she didn't at least try.
So she smiled, and cupped Lan Fan's face, and said, "I love you, you know."
And Lan Fan went bright red, her eyes opening wide, and stuttered, "W-w-wh-at?!"
Winry laughed and kissed her and felt, for that moment, that everything would be okay.
Forgiveness is a Gift
Pray the Sun Will Rise
.
