Summary: Two thousand miles and more ghosts than that to haunt them.
Spoilers: Post series, so yeah. A little bit of an alternate ending. No movie though. Doesn't even exist.
Rating: PG - NC-17. This chapter: PG
FMA does not belong to me and I make no profit from any of these tales. Any further archiving of my fiction is strictly prohibited unless cleared by me.
1. Anywhere But Here.
"I need to go."
It was too quiet with just the two of them and his voice cut sharply through the silence. Looking up, she noticed that he had not touched his steak.
"Anywhere but here."
"I understand. And I'm coming with you."
They left the dirty dishes in the sink as they packed.
He waited impatiently at her door as she hurriedly shoved clothing into an unused suitcase. His rested by his feet; he was so much more experienced at this. Occasionally he would sigh and tell her that she didn't need something she was about to throw into her bag, which only made her bumble along more, afraid that he would get fed up and leave without her.
How long Edward had wanted to leave? Since Al? Since Granny? Wasn't she reason enough to stay?
Walking downstairs, she turned out all the lights and barely had time to leave a note in the window for her customers – even though there had only been a couple since the funeral. Edward told her that she could call someone tomorrow and make arrangements. She tried asking if he knew where he was going, but all she got was a stiff back as he strode determinedly out the door.
He remembers it being a lot easier to just get up and go.
It was nearly dawn by the time they pushed the car out and got on the road. It would have been sooner but Ed had refused to take the train. Doing so would mean that he'd have to decide on a destination. Besides, every train car looked the same and held too many memories.
It was more convenient to just drive.
Winry had taken hours putting the finishing touches on her automobile. She had spent years gathering the parts for the car and putting them together. It was just a few days ago that they had taken it out for a test drive. He thought it extremely lucky that she had such a hobby and tells her so.
"Don't you have a hobby?"
He tells her no. There were no hobbies to keep him busy during the day. No books either. They all burned when he was eleven. The only volume he had left were his written notes from his years journeying.
"Why don't you buy more? You have the money."
It was true. Money hadn't been an issue after he left the military. On the days they did venture into the small line of shops that were called a town in Resembool, as Winry hassled with the shop keepers he would walk a few stores down and wander aimlessly around the bookstore. Nothing ever caught his eye, not even the alchemy section.
"It just doesn't seem the same since…" He trails off and moves his elbow to the window. "I still have my Al reflex." She looks over from the driver's side and he explains. "It's like, every time I open a book, I immediately want to show Alphonse. Just to talk with him about what I read or make fun of how simple it is."
She looks away, out into the bleakness that he was expecting to turn into beautiful sunrise any minute now. "I get the same way sometimes."
This time it is his head that turns.
"Sometimes when I am making an arm or just doing anything involving a wrench, I get this urge to find my Granny, to ask her advice or just brag."
He has nothing to say to that. No words to comfort her and assure her that their mutual ghosts bound them together in grief. All he can think to do was curl up in the passenger side and pretend to sleep.
The road out of Resembool is long and lonely, but with the silence of being wrapped in grief, it can feel like forever.