Title: Ghost

Author: S J Smith

Rating: Tenn

Summary: Ed's keeping watch in Winry's room.

Disclaimer: You know the drill, right? Line up, look left, cough, and remember I don't own this.

Warnings: Second person POV, present tense.

Notes: Thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits!


You bite into your sandwich, thinking it's weird, sitting in her room, even if it's not the first you've been here. When you'd been kids, your brother and you'd shared a bed with Winry, too, or you'd slept on the floor next to it, or all of you sprawled downstairs in front of the fireplace. And after you tried to bring Mom back, Winry'd practically moved into your recovery room, and was beside you through every step from your surgery through your rehabilitation. Still, Winry's not here right now, and that makes it creepy to be sitting in her room.

It's almost like she's a ghost in here. When you close your eyes, you can still catch a hint of her scent. There're a few tools scattered on her workbench, and even though everything's dusty, it looks like she just stepped out for a few minutes, maybe to run over to the Nedobeck's to get some eggs for Granny.

You know where everything in this room should be, from her automail magazines to her underwear – not that you were looking for those! Winry's always kept everything in the same places, as long as you've known her. You've known what's in every drawer, nook and closet corner since you were little kids, and everything was open between you. You're not a pervert, dammit!

"Do you always gnash your teeth so loudly?"

The silken, purring voice comes from the doorway and you don't look back as you say, "What do you want?"

Greed slips into her room. It might be Ling, you know; they're both quiet as shadows, but he doesn't talk the same as the homunculus. "I've come to check on you." A toothy grin reveals it's definitely Greed in control of Ling's body. "The chimeræ were taking bets on how long you'd stay in this room without taking care of your," his voice is tinged with dark humor, "bodily urges."

You're glad the darkness in the room hides your hot cheeks, but your voice still gives you away. "What? Stupid! Why would they say that!" You know why. They've teased you about Winry before, about the fucking hard-on you got while you were recovering from that wound. About the way you called for her when you were trapped in those fever dreams.

"The little prince finds her to be a beautiful girl," Greed says, tapping his chest.

You stare out at the road, determined to ignore him.

He hates when you do that but he sounds like he's laughing at you. "And says you're jealous."

It's not jealousy, you want to tell yourself, but you've figured it out and you know better now. "So?" you snap.

"Tch! A little greed does everyone good, alchemist." Greed's voice drifts next to your ear, his breath stirring the hair there. "Just remember," he whispers, and the tone of his voice makes a shiver run down your spine, "you're mine first. You pledged yourself to me."

Your automail hand comes up and, with a slight clatter, you form a fist. "I made a pledge to her, first. And before her, Al. So I think they own me more than you." You show your teeth in just as scary a grin as any Greed manages to make. "But I'll keep my word to them and to you, too."

Greed's smile reminds you a little of Kimbley's. "Such a trusting, foolish boy. That's why they love you, you know." He straightens, adjusting his shirt, and leaves you with your thoughts, and your sandwich, and the view of the road.

And there's something out there on it, slowly making its way toward the house. You squint through the window, seeing two men, carrying something between them. It could be nothing. It might be something. You'll have to wait and see.

And in the meantime, try not think about being here alone with the ghost of Winry in her room.