DISCLAIMER: Hiromu Arakawa.
WORDCOUNT: ~3300
RATING: PG-13.
SUMMARY: Future Fic. And I've happily skipped over any and everything that might be considered a spoiler. lol! Listening to the pouring rain / Waiting for the world to change
THANK YOu: to Sharon, for the beta. *HUGS*
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.

Written for evil_little_dog at April (sorta) Drabbling.

WATCH THE WALLS CRUMBLE (one by one)
by Leni

It had been supposed to end.

She almost laughed at herself. But she had believed with all her heart, with all evidence at hand, with the brothers' own assurances supporting her hopes, that once Ed and Al came back, they would stay.

(How naïve.)

It had been supposed to end.

Instead, all she had gotten were six months.

"Hello, Miss Rockbell," a familiar voice said when she opened the door. He even tipped his hat at her, and the corners of her mouth started to lift before before she noticed the woman with her stoic expression, standing two steps behind the visitor.

She had slammed the door in his face. She'd sprinted through the house and then down the road to the village, raising the alarm. She'd overridden Ed's objections and made him flee.

She had done nothing of the sort.

ooo

The first month had a blur of people coming and going, sheets and sheets of freshly baked cookies, and the most ridiculous inventions pouring out of townfolk's lips who wanted little from Rockbell Automail, and all of a glimpse of Alphonse Elric.

"He's recovering," Ed had protested more than once, throwing an irate look at whatever 'client' happened to lose his way and end up in the living room, gawking at the younger brother with ill-disguised awe.

"They saw a walking armor for too long, child," Granny would say, but nonetheless she'd stick her pipe in her mouth and rise to shoo the intruder away.

"I don't mind, Brother," Alphonse sometimes whispered, too tired to embrace the infamous Elric temper.

Ed set his brow and pulled his chair closer to the door.

ooo

"It's been a long time," she said as she allowed entrance to the pair. Careful not to meet their gazes, she showed them to their seats. "I believe it was for Elicia's birthday, wasn't it?" She didn't let them confirm or deny it. Words rushed out of her mouth and she encouraged them (how coward); a wall between her and the reality they'd dragged into her home. "Al was so glad he could make the trip to Central, even if Ed insisted we dragged as many pillows as possible with us."

She had played at bravery once.

"You'd think he'd be able to transmute them, but no." The man opened his mouth; she hurried into her next sentence. "He wanted to be certain we'd have them."

She had stared down powerful alchemists.

"But the trip was uneventful, and Elicia was so glad to see Ed…"

She had stood up to military chiefs.

"…even if she was a little afraid of Al at first. Kids."

She had faced war and destruction and promised herself that once it was over, she would never let herself forget.

"I think she's the only one of us who'll miss that big armor."

She hadn't forgotten.

"I've already asked Ed if there's something I can do with the metal. Anything. He-"

"Miss Rockbell." At such pointed interruption, she was forced to halt. "Is Edward at home?"

But it was not over.

ooo

The second month, Ed and Al had all but been at each other's throats. Al felt more sure of his own body, chaffed at the idea of spending more weeks sitting in the furthest couch from the window, with only a book as his daily adventure.

"He isn't strong, yet," Ed murmured into his tea, his left hand worrying the tablecloth until she could see sweat stains smudging the white material.

"He is better," she tried, giving a meaningful look at the door. "He left on his own, didn't he?"

"Stalked, more like," Ed snorted. "Brat."

She took the cup out of his hand, and he looked as it made a clinking sound against the table as if he had couldn't remember why he'd ever raised it. "What are you afraid of, Ed?"

"Nothing." His eyes strayed to the door through which his brother had left, a clear mark of his recovery. "Not anymore."

With a small smile, she rephrased the question, "This is Rezembool, Ed. You are home now, even with the gossip and the stares," she admitted. "You are safe and so is Al. You know that, don't you?"

Golden eyes blinked slowly.

For a long second before Edward nodded, she knew that behind his eyelids raged years of blood and deceit, of battlefields that in their majority she'd seen only in their aftermath.

She wondered in which one he'd forgotten what 'safe' meant.

ooo

She shook his head. "They're all in town. The boys are helping Granny to bring back the groceries."

They flinched when she said 'boys'. Good.

She'd heard the rumors, of course. New battles, new ambitions, new bloodshed. Ed had scoffed when he heard them, said loud and clear in the middle of the market that war was foolish, and even more foolish those who marched into it thinking they'd return unscathed.

"They won't be back for hours," she tried to dissuade them. (How hopeless.)

"We'll wait, then."

She shot a desperate glance at the woman sitting in front of her.

Riza Hawkeye, ever the Flame Alchemist's aide first, then a friend, held her gaze for a moment and then dropped it.

ooo

The third month had been even louder.

Al wanted their father to stay at the Rockbell house.

Ed threatened to rent a room in town if the man so much as crossed the threshold.

It took two weeks to reach a compromise, and it was she who brought the news to the bespectacled man waiting patiently at the Resembool inn.

"Hm. I expected no result until spring, if then," he said, wearing a small smile.

Granny, who'd accepted his invitation to lunch - and to share some of Alphonse and Edward's lives from before he'd reentered the picture, no doubt - shook her head. "You take too much credit for the boys, Hohenheim. For all their inherited stubbornness, they are Trisha's sons, too."

The man's golden eyes fixed on his diminutive friend. "That's why I came back."

When she recounted this part of the conversation to the brothers, Al's eyes filled with tears. "I believe…. I believe I understand why Mom loved him."

Ed let out a curse and stormed out of the room.

Before she could get up and follow him, she heard Al mutter under his breath. "Brat." She laughed, whirled on her heel and stopped to land a kiss on the younger boy's brow before she hurried after his fuming brother.

"Everything will work out," she said.

And she'd believed it.

ooo

Ed's smile widened at the sight of her, even though the bags he carried reached up to his chin. But his eyes narrowed when he noticed the military uniforms waiting for him. "What's happening here?" he asked, forgetting all pretense of niceties. His eyes flitted over man and woman, and what he found there made him turn his gaze toward Winry.

His eyes, she met with all the honesty she could find within herself. (How poetic.)

He blanked his expression before facing the others again. Flinging his bags onto an empty cushion, he planted his feet on the floor, as if anchoring himself to the house. To the quiet. To the lazy afternoons spent carting fruits, meat and boxes of screws for Pinako.

To the last six months.

"What is it?" he asked again, meeting the bored gaze of the older man.

Gone were the black clothes, the gloves and the red coat that had branded him as surely as the pocket watch he'd carried.

But in that moment, it was the Fullmetal Alchemist who stood at her door and faced her worst nightmare.

ooo

The fourth month, the cherry tree in the very limits of the Rockbell property bloomed.

Ed kissed her under its shade.

"I'm not sure that's how it's supposed to go," he laughed, passing his tongue over a spot where her teeth had nibbled too strongly.

She almost punched his shoulder, but decided against it with an echoing laugh. There'd already been enough mixed signals to last them a lifetime.

ooo

Al stepped up in his brother's stead. Having placed his own bags on the table, he hurried to greet the visitors. "Brigadier Colonel Mustang," he said as he extended his hand. No martial salute. Not since Ed was granted his resignation. "Lieutenant Hawkeye," and he smiled at the tall blonde who's raised after Mustang.

"Alphonse," she replied with the smallest smile, accepting his hand in hers and looking puzzled for a second that hers wasn't engulfed in giant metal hands. "You've grown."

Mustang nodded at the boy, keeping black eyes trained on the older brother. "Edward. We must talk." Whatever he'd been looking for in Ed's expression, wasn't there. So Mustang looked for Granny and found her making her way around the brothers to get to the scene. "Doctor Rockbell. We are sorry to intrude -" He ignored the simultaneous snort and denial, respectively from Ed and Alphonse. "But it's urgent that I speak with Fullm- with Edward. In private."

"Like hell," Ed snarled, and thunder seemed to wake in the background.

"I'm staying," she heard herself say, and wasn't surprised that Al echoed her.

None of the adults paid them any attention. Granny looked between the officers' faces, tapping her fingers against the seat of a nearby chair as she considered her decision. Finally her shoulders lifted and she gave the Colonel a hard glare. "Come, children," she told them.

Before she could protest, Granny's hand had closed around her wrist; as much as she wanted to defy her grandmother's wish, she had no reason beyond a bad feeling. Alphonse was luckier, dodging Granny's hand and staring at his old friends with golden eyes that ever since he'd recovered his body, resembled his brother's more than ever before. "I am staying," he ground out.

Hawkeye moved forward, to try and reason with the boy, probably. But Mustang waved a hand, "Let him." His expression was set; a man used to opposition and brokering it.

Ed's expression told of dozens of lessons learned under Mustang's orders. If anyone had a chance, well….

(How optimistic.)

"We'll bring back some tea for all," Granny said, and nobody outside their makeshift family could have guessed at the weariness laced in the words. "Let's go, my girl."

She went.

ooo

The fifth month, wanderlust started creeping into Edward's eyes.

She wondered whether it'd been that shadow, that small sigh when he walked to the porch and gazed into the horizon, the same symptoms Aunt Trisha had once seen in her husband.

"Would you like to go to Central?" she asked, hooking her chin on his shoulder. "Elicia would be thrilled to see you again."

He shook his head, caressing her hair with fingers still unused to obeying his command. She didn't complain at the tugs and closed her eyes instead.

Central wasn't far enough, exciting enough…. A week later, a walk to the village gave her an idea. Ed and Al had been in high spirits, celebrating the advent of spring in their own way. The loud way, she had thought as she saw them sprint and jump and attack and duck in unconcerted choreography, mindless of the spots of runny mud - a leftover from that night's rains - that landed on their clothes. It wasn't flawless, no. Nowhere near the sight of a near-invincible armor and a half-metal boy. But it was beautiful, and when their laughter reached her, she felt proud to have been part of the process.

That last thought was the kernel for her next proposal to Ed.

"I'm sure Mrs. Izumi would like to see Al's progress," she said one night as he lay along the sofa, his head pillowed on her lap. "She and her husband seemed very worried about him when they saw him at Central," she reminded him, rubbing his right shoulder with careful strokes. It still bothered him, especially when the weather grew moist.

"Master?" he asked, coming back from the brink of sleep.

She nodded. "She'd love to see you, too." She waited until he turned his eyes on her, and smiled at his wordless question. "I think we should go visit, yes. If your Dad comes while we're away, Granny can-" His scowl made her pause. "Or not. Just think about it, Ed."

"But your work…."

"Can hold for some weeks." A wonderful idea came to her. "Granny will stay here, anyway. It's not as if she hasn't done without me before. And in summer we can go to Rush Valley, see what Mr. Dominic is up to."

"I thought you wanted to stay in Rezembool," he mused. But she knew that he was already thinking of sparring with his old teacher, of having someone better capacitated tell him how to maneuver the limbs that had returned after so long. Of having a challenge after so long a quiet stay. "You don't have to…."

"I want to," she cut him off. "So you won't fit in Rezembool life, who cares?" She'd never pictured him as one of the other boys anyway, growing up to be husbands and fathers and shopkeepers or farmers. Even after he announced he'd leave the military, over her own tides of joy, she'd known that sooner or later something would reclaim him. "There's a world outside, and an automail mechanic is needed beyond a village," - Winry thought of what she'd seen outside - "maybe even the country…."

His eyes flashed at the idea, then dimmed. "Al loves it here."

She smiled, thinking of his younger brother occupying what had been her place for so many years. "Then we'll make sure to always come back."

ooo

"Amestris' wars are no longer my problem, bastard," she heard Ed's hiss despite the wooden door separating the living room from the kitchen. Beside her, Granny set a teacup with extra force on the tray. She opened another drawer looking for spoons, a part of her mind sure that yesterday she'd known where to find them.

Most of her wanted to run, though, stop the charade and tear away from the madness.

She was grateful that she couldn't hear Mustang, wouldn't know his reasons to pull who'd once been their best alchemist back to their ranks. Major Elric; she mouthed the words, as she'd done many times in her girlhood after she received notice that Edward had passed his exam.

Then Ed spoke, screamed, again: "I'm not a child for you to lead at your whim."

"He loves you," her grandmother said, yanking out a middle drawer.

The spoons laughed at her.

"He hasn't unpacked yet." The fact caused her to giggle. She'd packed both their luggage in the room where Sig had showed her to, while his wife, Ed and Al kept conversing deep into the night of their arrival. "We'd thought the boys would take the bigger room, but…." He trailed, scratching his head as he tried to find some subtle way to point out the obvious. Feeling the beginning of a blush, she turned away and with a rushed 'thank you' and 'good night' entered the guestroom. "I left one of my shirts in his bag," she remembered now. "Think I have the time to recover it?"

(How pathetic.)

Granny stopped pouring the hot water. "Oh, my dear girl…."

"Don't dare bring that up." Ed's voice sounded so tired; it was a wonder it carried through. "I know perfectly well what my debts are."

And Edward Elric always paid his debts.

Thunder resonated through her.

Before she heard the spoons clatter and bounce dully at her feet, before Granny's call for her name reached her ears, before she could feel her heart breaking inside her….

She fled.

ooo

The sixth month, she watched as Ed's confidence turned from a cloak wrapped tight around his shoulders to a knowledge deep-seated in his spirit.

"You don't need me anymore," she let herself mourn one night, tracing a blue vein that ran down his right arm, trying to understand and control that steady flood of blood as she'd once done with the hydroelectric system of his automail.

She'd spent the afternoon watching the unlikely trio train in the yard. Ed's movements still didn't flow with the same grace; but in the few weeks under Izumi's careful eye, it became obvious that if it had taken him a year to master a metal arm, the next season wouldn't turn without him accomplishing his goal.

"Don't be an idiot," he said, some of his old irritation returning. "I've always needed you."

"Don't call me names," she spoke the retort she'd given since childhood.

It had the same effect as then. "Don't do stuff that deserves them, then."

She buried her face against his chest, finding the coarser texture of his worst scars with her lips. "First thing tomorrow, I'll ask Sig for a wrench." Over his surprised laugh, she continued, a whisper against his skin, "Someone needs to bring you to heel, Edward."

"Yes." He reached up to cup her cheek, tilted her head up so they could look into each other's eyes. "I'm glad it's you."

ooo

It was raining outside.

How had she missed it?

"Winry!"

She stood, letting the raindrop wash down her hair, run from her brow along her nose and leap into darkness. Only one stubborn trail burned its way on her cheeks. She rounded about, taking in the boy - the man - calling onto her.

"Come back before you catch a cold!" he yelled, raising a fist at her apparent foolishness.

She remembered a boy of five, raising a fist and yelling because she'd managed to outrun him on the way back from school.

She remembered a little girl in a purple dress with flowers, taunting him.

Winry blinked and the children disappeared again.

It took all she had not to call for them.

"Well?" Tapping the boards of the porch now.

She wanted to laugh, and the sound betrayed her, turned into a sob once it left her throat. She'd loved the child; she loved the boy; she would love the man he was becoming. Because otherwise she'd never be the girl - the woman - she was.

"Come for me," she whispered, dragging the back of her fists down her face, cleaning it from the stingy salty rain. "Damn it!" she screamed when he wouldn't read her thoughts.

At that, he did rush forward as if summoned by name. He didn't react as the raindrops hit his face, didn't once wrap his arms around himself to keep warm. "Winry," he said when he reached her, standing so close. His arms lifted in what seemed to be slow motion, and just as slowly did she enter their haven. "Winry," he called her name again, and again, and again, until Winry had heard all that word meant for him.

"I'm tired," she said.

He hugged her closer.

"Exhausted." (How… desperately in love.) "I've waited all my life."

"I'm sorry."

Winry shook her head. Guilt was something she'd leave for Mustang to use. She only wanted him to understand. "I still do. I'm waiting, Ed. I'm waiting -" 'Waiting for you.' She swallowed thickly, hoping he read her as well as he used to read his enemies. "- for the world to change."

His expression softened.

"Sometimes I'm really an idiot, Ed."

"No," he responded, a seldom heard ferocity in the one syllable.

She smiled, "Okay," and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and knowing that when she next opened them, the question that was beating at the rhythm of her heartbeat 'you're leaving again, aren't you?' would explode and… and what then?

As if she was in a dream, she felt him move and with not a word passed between them, she moved with him. Back step after back step until she couldn't feel the raindrops pattering the top of her head, until she felt rough bark against her sodden clothes.

If she looked down, she knew that she would find bruised cherry flowers around their feet.

Sanctuary.

'you aren't?'

At last, Edward had claimed sanctuary.

The End
20/04/09

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