DISCLAIMER: Not my toys, but I love the game!
SUMMARY: post Promised Day. No spoilers. The Elric brothers return to Resembool, but finding their way back home is more difficult than anyone expected.
WORDCOUNT: ~3650
NOTES: Prompts taken from 4purposes.
FEEDBACK: Please!

Written for ishte at fmagiftexchange.

HOME, SWEET HOME
by Leni

i. the sky is a hazy shade

This time it only took Winry half an hour to find him. Were she optimistic, she'd be given to think that Ed was trying to make it easier for her. But optimism had always been better reserved for occasions that didn't involve the Elric boys, and so Winry acknowledged that the heart of the matter was simply that in the last months she'd grown better at reading Ed.

She considered avoiding to make noise as she closed in on him; but Winry was so tired of walking on eggshells around him.

Since the afternoon that the brothers had arrived in Resembool, Edward had seemed to do his best to vex her. Truly vex her, in that way where she couldn't scream at him and berate him before the whole town if necessary.

"Edward has grown up," Granny had mentioned as they made their way home back from the inn.

Winry had pursed her lips and thought back to his negative to come stay with them, even if only temporarily. "He's grown stupid," she'd muttered, wishing again that she'd thought to take her wrench to the meeting, and then wishing she believed that the tactic that had terrified the boy would work on the man that had come back. "Al didn't even try to convince him," she continued, exasperated at what she considered an even darker betrayal.

Because Edward Elric had never known what was good for him; but between his younger brother and herself, they'd managed to make Ed see reason for two decades. That Alphonse had sided with Ed, despite the brief flare in his golden eyes at the mention of a real home life, had told Winry more about Edward's state than she'd been ready to handle.

Now, almost a year later, Winry had gotten yet another call from a tired Al. This pattern had started the fourth day after their return. Hearing the pounding at the front door, Winry and her grandmother had rushed over from the automail shop and been surprised by Al's panicked expression.

"Is he here?" the young man had asked. At the women's headshake, Alphonse had stuck his head through the doorway as if he'd need proof that Ed wasn't in their living room before moving on. Then he slammed his fist against the wall and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he whispered.

Hearing Al curse was the equivalent of the most violent of his brother's tantrums.

"What's the problem?" Winry had asked, already picturing rogue alchemists and revengeful Homunculus.

Al wouldn't tell her, hastening a mumbled goodbye as he turned around and started walking away.

"What was that about?" Winry had wondered aloud when a friend of a lifetime, one she cared about like a brother, left without asking for help. Granny had silently opened the door further, just in time for Winry to sprint forward to catch up with Al.

They hadn't found Ed until late that evening, when they saw him at the brothers' usual table at the inn.

Ten months afterwards, Winry had learned his favorite haunts.

Ten months afterwards, Winry was growing tired of running after him.

"Is it worth it?" she asked as she approached Edward. She saw him shrug his shoulders, a careless movement that would have earned him a punch when they were teenagers. "You scare me, Ed. Every single time you decide to disappear, you scare me."

More silence.

"At least tell me you won't leave without telling us."

Edward sighed. "You have no idea why I come here, do you?"

Winry looked around. Today he'd chosen the Rosenbaum barn. This place had been old when they were kids, and now it was a ruin. Patches of the roof were missing, probably eaten by mice, and the barn doors they'd once used as fort gates had crumbled into rotten wood. "Not to make repairs," she answered. As far as Winry knew, when Ed came here, he lay down on the moist hay and stared up at the sky. "The place could use some, though."

Edward stared at his hands.

Winry took the chance to check his right arm. He had claimed not to need her services since he'd been in Resembool, and while Winry wanted to be happy at the sign that it was a sign of the peaceful life he led now, she missed that closeness.

Especially since it was the only brand of closeness that Edward would have allowed.

"Are you okay?"

Ed chuckled. "You sound like Al."

He wouldn't say anything more. "Why do you come here?" she asked instead. Until now, Winry had thought that Ed had chosen the most unlikely spots to hide from a worried brother and a childhood friend.

But it would be like Ed to have many layers behind his behavior.

"This was our favorite place to play hide-and-seek."

Winry nodded. With the many stalls that had once housed horses or cows, and the smaller nooks for tools and feed, the Rosenbaum bard had been a hotspot for Resembool children under ten. "Al got stuck behind some crates once," she remembered.

Edward laughed. "Right. I'd forgotten." He turned toward her. "I forgot too many things, Winry. We spent whole weekends here, and I could barely find my way the first time."

There was nothing she could say to that.

So she laid next to him, watching a thin cloud fly across the opening in the roof. "Kyle used to bring cookies, and then he hid them so he didn't have to share." She pointed to a loft beside them. "It was Den who finally discovered the hiding place - it was your plan to bring her along to sniff out the cookies. Not one of your best plans, I'm afraid."

"Den ate the cookies." Ed smiled. "I miss the old girl."

"So do I." It was the perfect moment to tell Ed that she missed him, too. Winry kept quiet, though. If he didn't know already, then it was not worth telling him. "Then some of the older boys started bringing stuff and hiding it, and you'd bet on how long it'd take Den to find it."

"I did?" The sound that came out was supposed to be a laugh. "Sounds fun."

"Until I found out, I guess it was." She crinkled her eyebrows a little. "No wonder you were scared of me."

He did laugh at that. "Believe me. I wish I'd never come across scarier people."

"You're home now," Winry told him.

"That's what Al keeps saying," Ed muttered back. "Doesn't really feel like it. Something about the burned ground where home used to be."

Winry pressed her lips together. She had found him, they had talked - she had one more piece of the puzzle that used to be her best friend. "You're making it difficult to stay in love with you," she sighed. Her feelings were an open secret in Resembool, and she didn't regret voicing them when she saw his reaction.

His shoulders relaxed, his eyes closed and he didn't need to say it; Winry had always known that a relaxed Ed was a content Ed.

They stayed like that, side by side, for another hour, maybe two. "You'll find your way back, Ed," Winry said once she'd processed their conversation. When she turned to gauge his response, she saw that he was asleep. The sky was darker now, but Winry didn't care. For once she didn't feel like bugging Edward into starting their way back to town. Instead she looked at the sky, the occasional birds barely distinguishable from the gunmetal background. She kept her eyes fixed on another passing cloud, wishing she was still seven years old and her biggest problem was to discover why Den wasn't eating at home.

Maybe Edward was right. Maybe there was no way back.

The edges of the cloud grew hazy and watery, but Winry didn't want to blink the tears away.

Maybe it was time she applied the best of her optimism where it belonged: back into the lives of the boys she'd always loved best.

xxx

ii. willow in a windstorm

"You have no right, Winry!"

Winry took hold of the narrowed eyes, the golden shade fanned to a dark yellow. She suppressed the urge to smile, didn't do anything but raise her eyebrow in that angle she'd copied from her grandmother, the one that put the fear of Rockbell women into stubborn Elric boys. "I'm your girlfriend and you love me, don't you?"

Edward's nostrils flared, but he didn't deny it. "Hell if I'm going!" he yelled as he stalked back to his room, leaving her and Alphonse in the hallway.

"Brother was angry," the younger man breathed, his whole demeanor wavering between pleasure and wariness.

"He was," Winry confirmed, knowing she sounded smug.

Anger was good.

She had known how to deal with Edward's anger since they were out of diapers.

The listless man that had returned to Resembool was a stranger to her, a stranger that had kidnapped her best friend's body and ruined his relationship with his family. Winry wanted that man out of her sight; she wanted Ed - old Ed, her Ed - back.

The process had started since their evening at the Rosenbaum barn. Winry didn't let him make excuses, forced down his stubbornness and on more than one occasion, she'd practically dragged him up the road to her house. But her efforts were working: now he came over for dinner every couple days, he talked to Granny in the porch and even waved back when a neighbor passed by. He had asked her out four months ago, and though the phrasing would have cost him a bruise if she'd had her wrench at hand ("Whole town is talking, damn busybodies - might as well give them something to talk about."), Winry had said yes.

But outside his family circle, Edward remained the quiet, prickly man who'd stepped into the train station eighteen months ago.

If Winry needed to bring his more distinctive behavior patterns to the surface, then she would do just that. For too long, Edward had kept himself away from his old friends; but Winry knew him, and she knew that while he'd chase everyone out of his life without any remorse, he had always possessed a soft spot for the young ones. Suggesting to Gracia that she had her daughter invite Edward to Central for the girl's birthday had been Winry's latest strategy in this campaign.

Edward's reaction had been… explosive.

While everyone, from the inn owners to the very last guest, scurried downstairs to avoid the storm, Winry gave Alphonse a confident smile and started her way after his seething brother. Edward Elric'd worst moods didn't scare her; soon he'd remember why Winry had been the only one to stand her ground against him, and why his aggressive responses had never fazed her.

He would be going to Central.

He would reconnect with people who loved him.

Even if Winry had to carry him into the train wagon herself.

xxx

iii. a look like white heat

Winy hadn't expected to surprise him. Sneaking up to Edward had been difficult when they were children - now he tensed as soon as he sensed a presence that wasn't his brother.

"Winry!" Alphonse greeted her, looking so grateful that she felt sorry for having taken so long before starting her way down to town. "I'll…." Al looked between Edward and her, gave a little shake of his head and stepped toward the door. "I'm going downstairs for lunch."

Winry nodded as the younger man grabbed her shoulder for a second as he walked past her. The gesture could have been part of his greeting (nobody had missed how Alphonse had grown fond of touching people once he recovered his body), or a show of support.

It could have been a warning.

When seconds passed and Ed didn't acknowledge her, Winry guessed it was the latter. Holding back a long sigh, she entered the room uninvited, came to a stand on the other side of his bed, his open suitcase between them. She grabbed one of the shirts Edward had thrown in, and before he could protest, she started folding it with the obvious intent of depositing it back in the bag.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Winry almost laughed. Figures it would be now when Edward decided to apply some manners. Instead she shrugged, and picked up another item. Al's phone call an hour ago had been short and to the point: Ed was leaving, and he wouldn't even say where he was going. Winry had tried to be surprised, but the truth was that she had seen it coming for months already. Every day that they spent together, Winry tried not to read the signs, but as train ticket stubs accumulated on a corner of Ed's night table, Winry saw a familiar light growing in his golden eyes.

He wanted more. He wanted everything.

Their trips to Central weren't enough. Resembool was growing too small for him.

Again.

"At least you gave us some notice," she said after three more shirts and a pair of pants. "What if Al hadn't called me over?"

Edward chortled. "Al thinks you walk in water, Winry. He would call you if I sneezed too loudly; of course he'd call you now."

"True." She snapped a pair of shorts out of the tight corner into which they'd been shoved. "Why did you come back at all?"

Ed lifted his automail shoulder. "Al wanted to."

And he'd do anything for Alphonse. "Why leave now?"

Winry sensed that he was trying to meet her eyes. She kept her gaze to her work. Then he sighed, "Because I don't fit."

It was true. Alphonse was still Alphonse, the years away from home had left him ravenous for the small comforts of the country and the people who'd seen him grown up. He maintained a steady correspondence with most of their old friends, but showed no desire to return over his steps across Amestris to see them.

Edward looked as if he didn't fit in the skin Resembool had designed for him.

Then again…. "You never did, Ed."

He chuckled. "Then you won't ask me to stay?"

Winry gave him a look. "You'd say no. I'd rather keep my strength to twist your arm over important stuff."

Edward's eyebrow snapped up at that. Winry could see him hesitating between the wisdom of asking what she meant, and the instincts that pressed him to stay far, far away from that statement. "Okay…."

"Ready!" she announced, placing down the last pair of socks and maneuvering to zip the lid close. "We're cutting it really close," she said as she checked the clock on the wall.

His blond eyebrows raised even higher. "No."

Winry smiled, hefting his suitcase and walking to the door. "Come on, Ed. I won't be carrying both bags all the way to the station."

"No," Edward repeated, rushing after her.

"It's so cute," she told him as she turned around to find him a hand span away. She ignored his heated look, the fisted hands at his sides, and focused on the things he wouldn't say. The world thought that Edward Elric gave in to emotion too easily; Winry knew he never chose the right ones. With her free hand, she pushed a strand of long hair behind his ear, then she tilted her head up to kiss his lips. "You actually think you have a choice."

xxx

iv. falling leaves are whispering

Autumn in Central had been depressing; the city was nothing but buildings with a few pitiful parks crammed between housing blocks. The dry rusty-colored leaves on the pavement had looked more like blood tears than the landmark of the season. "Not here," Winry had said, at the edge of tears herself, and Edward had nodded and brought her to Dublith.

Winry still thought it wasn't as beautiful as Resembool; but the southern town had its charms, and she knew better than to press Ed to go back before he'd burned out this bout of wanderlust. "I know it's short notice," she'd told Izumi over a cup of chamomile tea after Ed's old master had sent the men away, "but I - we would appreciate if you could help us set everything up…."

Five days later, Sig offered to go to the station to pick up Granny and Alphonse, hopefully Gracia, Elicia and the Mustangs as well. Edward was banished to the yard, to work off his nerves against whatever invisible enemy he chose for that day.

Winry stood before the full-length mirror, staring at her reflection. "White is not my color," she admitted as she rearranged her necklace so it felt parallel to the neckline of her dress.

"Edward was always color-impaired," Izumi said. "The less said about his taste, the better."

Winry giggled. "I know. But it was for the better, you know, or we wouldn't be here."

Three months ago, she and the brothers had gone together to visit Gracia. Winry had been helping around in the kitchen when Elicia walked up to her and, with the largest grin she'd ever seen on the little girl, asked whether Edward-kun had gone to one knee as they did in the radio shows. Gracia was lucky that Winry hadn't lost her grip on the porcelain teapot she'd been drying… "Ed what?" When she'd pieced the story together, Winry hadn't known whether to laugh or to cry. Laugh, because Ed had gone all the way to Central almost every weekend, gathering up the courage to ask for Gracia's help to pick an engagement ring. Cry, because it'd been almost a month since Gracia and Edward had finally agreed on one, and he still hadn't bought up the subject.

And the look on his eyes had kept sending longing gazes further away from Resembool….

Two weeks later, Alphonse had made the call, and Winry had weighed the pros and cons for three minutes before she barged into her room to pack her things, and then ran all the way to the automail shop to ask her grandmother to buy her a ticket to Central (where else would he start this new trip?) while Winry talked some reason into Ed.

Now she was in Dublith, wearing white and wishing the anticipation didn't make her so nervous. "Any advice?" she asked the older woman.

Izumi shook her head. "I don't believe my method to handle Edward would fit you."

Winry laughed.

"Treat him well," Izumi said next, a hard edge in her look that Aunt Trisha wouldn't have worn for such a situation. Or maybe she would have. Watching over Ed tended to bring out the more predatory instincts in a woman.

"I plan to," Winry answered.

Izumi nodded. "I see you've packed your bags again. That means that you won't be staying in Dublith either?"

Winry shook her head.

"Where will you go?"

The white organza made her shoulders look thinner as she lifted them. Further south of Amestris, maybe, to parts of the country not even Edward had seen before. Maybe even beyond the borders, down to the Great Sea that most Amestrians had only seen in world maps. Winry looked down at her ring. Four sapphire stones cut in a tasteful shape, silver trapping them into the figure of a blooming flower. It matched her eyes, Ed had grumbled when he finally presented it to her, which should be good enough since Gracia had forbidden that he enhanced it. "Wherever winter won't be too harsh."

"And after that?" Izumi pressed.

Winry closed her eyes, picturing quiet afternoons in Resembool. "I don't know," she lied. It would be Edward's decision this time, and Winry had patience for the both of them. She turned around and gave Izumi a wide smile, "We're having a long honeymoon, anywhere but the places with too many memories. One of the best perks of marrying a handsomely remunerated hero, we don't need to worry about my job. Or his lack of one."

She needed to work on that speech. If Mrs. Curtis was giving her the look that said that she could see through the brave front, Winry had no chance to fool Granny, or even Alphonse. The last thing she needed on her wedding day, was her well-meaning family taking Edward apart and informing him of his bride's anxiety.

"He'll seek a home, Winry," Izumi said in a soothing tone. "Edward can't function without the hope of one."

Winry smiled. "I know." That was why, when he couldn't find one in Resembool, she'd stepped forward. Edward had needed an anchor, and Winry had provided it, had let him hold onto her when he couldn't grasp at anything else. "I know," she repeated in a lower voice, letting her thumb graze against the ring in her left hand.

Once, Winry had watched as her best friend burned all his bridges to the past. Not too long ago, she had stepped aside and convinced herself that Edward needed to flounder about before recovering his life. She had lived her life, watched him try to rebuild his, and she had told herself that they didn't need each other to be happy.

This time Winry knew better. It didn't matter how good her life was without him; Ed made it better, even when he wouldn't know what he was doing right if you asked.

And she made his life better.

Today Winry would walk down the aisle of Dublith town council. Before friends and family, she would become Edward's wife and they would leave together the next morning. It didn't matter how long this journey would turn out to be; be it months or years, Winry knew from experience that the alternative, the not knowing where he was or what he was doing, was a thousand times worse.

Resembool could wait.

That quiet future could wait.

The present was for a new life for her and Edward. It was to give Ed time to realize that, whatever he did, wherever he went, he'd never have to leave home again.

The present was for them, and Winry was done wasting their time

The End
06/01/10