He was at a loss for words watching her as she dissolved into tears. The pie really was good, and even though he had already eaten, each bite was an excuse not to say anything. She looked so soft and delicate at this moment. His mind wandered back to when Aunty and Uncle Rockbell had left; how upset they all were then, worrying about whether or not they would come back. She had cried like this then, and then again when word of their deaths came. How stupid that after seeing her cry so much he still had no ida what to do. He thought about his mother's death and what she had done for him and Al afterwards. It was similar to what she did now, she fed him and she cried. He had cried with her then like all of the other times. He wanted to cry now.
He gave up thinking about what to say, nothing would ever be enough. He resorted to what he knew. He moved beside her and mussed her hair a little, just to let her know he was there. His actions brought a halt to her soft sobs, as she glanced up at him. Raising her hands, she gently pushed his hand aside, taking it in hers and giving it a slight squeeze before letting it drop on the covers between them. She pulled the ponytail out of her hair, letting the band drop to the floor. Hesitantly, she leaned into him, her face in his neck, left arm resting across his chest and onto his shoulder where metal meets flesh beneath his jacket. He sat frozen, breath caught in his throat, heart hammering, until he felt her warm tears slide down his neck. She was softly crying again. His breath came ou in a sigh, and he relaxed, left arm coming up to hug her closer. He let himself feel the pain with her, a few tears escaping his eyes. When he felt one drip off his chin, she moved again. Not looking up at him, gratefully, but moving her arms. One tugging his hair out of it's braid, the other trying unsuccessfully to move his jacket from his back. He complied, shrugging out of the jacket without jostling her too much. Leaning down a little, his right hand caught at her boot laces, bringing her leg up and pulling the knot free, removing her shoe. She brought the other leg up a little, helping him with her toes to free her other foot. He kicked of his own shoes and moved back towards the head of the bed, tugging her with him, until they were lying properly on the bed. She lay with her head resting on his left shoulder, both squirming together to tug the blankets down far enough so they could get under them. Her tears had stopped. Shaky breaths gave way to a regular deep rhythm as sleep took her. Unable to resist his own grief and exhaustion, his own breath slowed and deepened, eyes closing as his body succumbed.
When he woke in the morning, she was gone. He wasn't worried and donning his shoes, walked down the hall to the shower. He would let her spend the morning with Al, hopefully cheering him up. As he walked towards his room, towel around his waist, dirty clothes in one arm, boots in the other, he was greeted by laughter and happy voices. They would go with Winry to take Hughes flowers, he would think about Maria Ross slapping him and then smiling, and it would be a good day.
Thank you for reading.