By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. R/R because you like tragic love stories.

It's cold outside. It's cold inside me to match. The snow falls quietly now, blanketing everything in soft white. It's so pure, blindingly pure. If only it was true. If only the world was as pure as a new-fallen blanket of snow would have us believe it is. Maybe then I wouldn't be here. Maybe I'd be at home by the fire, her soft body safe in my arms. But I have seen past the curtain this world wears. I know the dark and ugly secrets, the truth behind all truths. I first learned of them when I was eleven years old and I almost lost my little brother. I was reminded of them again when I was sixteen and I sacrificed my life in this world to return my brother to normal. And now, two years later I return from that other world I was in and am hit over the head with them again.

God, the snow's so white and pure. It makes me forget where I am. But I can't forget. This place is damned and cursed and only someone as sinful as me could remember it. This is the place where they put my mother in the ground. I remember how numb I felt as I watched her inside that casket. The look on her face was so peaceful. No more pain from the disease that poisoned her body. No more longing for a man who couldn't even come to her funeral. It was so peaceful the way she looked, so peaceful I almost forgot why she was laying there in the first place.

But I am not here to visit here this cold, snowy night. I almost wish I was. The guilt and sorrow I've felt over my mother's death is so much a part of me now I don't mind it as much. But this new guilt, this sorrow for someone else's death, it haunts me. I couldn't save her, didn't even know she was hurting. Why didn't she say something? I would've listened if she had talked. I could've done something. I could've told her I cared.

I've thought about this moment before. I've contemplated the moment I would stand at the grave of Winry Rockbell. It sounds morbid and it is. But it wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to lose her. Sure I always worried about it but . . .God it wasn't supposed to happen.

"Winry," I whisper as I kneel at her grave, "Why couldn't you fix yourself? You could fix anything. Why couldn't you fix yourself?" I remember every single moment I ever spent with her. She was my best friend. I loved her. I loved the way she got all embarrassed when I'd buy things for her. I loved the fiery look she'd get in her eyes when I'd tease her. I loved the way she'd smile when I called her the best mechanic in the world. Why did she have to stop holding on? Why did she have to take her own life?

"I'll bet you looked peaceful too," I tell the headstone. This is my fault. If had just told her I loved her. If I had stopped trying to set things right and had just gotten on with my life. If I had just done something she wouldn't have killed herself. I can imagine the funeral. So peaceful, so gentle inside the casket. Her blond hair so sparkling and golden, gently falling over her sapphire-colored eyes that would be forever closed.

"I promised you I'd come back," I cry, "I promised you that. Why couldn't you believe me?" This is my fault. It's always my fault. I wasn't good enough to save Mom and I wasn't good enough to save the one girl I care about more than anyone else in the world. Why do I have to fail everyone?

"I loved you, Winry," I whisper, "God, I loved you so much. I just hope you can forgive me for all this. I hope that somewhere, somehow, you hear me and know that I'm so sorry for all this." I am sorry. The guilt for my sins haunts me and consumes me. I cry harder now, my tears staining the pristine, snow-covered ground. I am stained as well, tainted by the horrible things I've done. I know it will consume me one day, this pain inside me. Maybe when that day comes, she'll finally forgive me.