Late at night, even now, Winry would sometimes find herself picturing a world where Ed hadn't been hit. In this world, he would have gotten between her and Scar, and while Al took care of the fight, he would have talked her down in a frantic voice.

She probably would have found herself unable to shoot, maybe she would have dropped the gun or maybe he would have gently taken it from her…

He would have said something nice, she would have cried and they would have healed so much more quickly…

But that was not the world she lived in. It was just a dream.

In the world she lived in, Ed was interrupted before he could reach her and give any stirring words of comfort. And it had all gone to hell from there….

—-

Ed was yelling something at her, but it was drowned out by her own heaving sobs. Metal chilled her already clammy skin as she gripped the gun tightly. She hesitated on the trigger, her fingers slick with sweat. She was shaking so hard that she felt like her bones were rattling. Her throat and eyes burned and each gasp hurt like she was breathing in smoke.

It was something she'd never felt before, anger and hatred so intense she felt feverish, almost delirious- she had to find some way to expel the sickness before it consumed her, took over her body completely, and all she could think to do was end the life of the man in front of her, maybe that would help, maybe that would bring it to an end…

Maybe if she destroyed the source of all her pain, her life could somehow repair itself.

Ed vaulted over Scar's outstretched arm, scrambling to get at Winry. Scar's clawed hand, crackling with alchemical energy, followed him closely. It was all happening so fast-

Ed stumbled- just a little- when he landed on the ground. The smallest of missteps cost him dearly, Scar managed to graze the edge of his nose .

Ed's nose shattered in a spray of blood. He fell down to the ground with a gurgle of pain, clutching at his face, red quickly spreading across his white gloves.

Not even sparing a glance in Winry's direction, Scar advanced on his prey.

Winry felt something rise up inside her. It wasn't exactly a desire to protect Ed- not anything quite as selfless or pure as that. In all honesty, she knew Ed would be able to defend himself in time- he was already letting go of his face and clapping his hands together. Al was approaching from the other side, ready to ram into Scar.

No, what she felt was an ugly, jagged rage that cut through everything else. The smell of Ed's blood was so thick and bitter in the air that she felt suffocated by it, her nausea increasing as it overwhelmed her. It wasn't that she wasn't used to the smell of blood, her parents had often returned home smelling faintly of blood from their patients.

"Sometimes you need give something up, like a little blood, to feel a lot better," her mother had told her once.

But the last time her parents had come home with the stench of blood on them, it had been their own. And despite all they'd given up, they would never "feel better"- or feel anything at all again.

He'd taken it all. Every last drop of blood until her parents had nothing left- but he wasn't satisfied with that. He was still taking all the blood he could from her family, and he wasn't going to stop until he bled them dry.

All she could see now was the back of her parents' killer and her gun pointed directly at it, it filled her vision, blotting out anything else. It was all she could see, all she GOT to see. Because he wasn't glancing back. He was only focused on Ed.

Look at me!

She tried to yell it out, but she was sobbing too hard to form the words.

All of the backs receding into the distance…they'd never turned back to look at her, not for one second. They'd all been looking ahead at something more important than her. No need to glance back at the helpless little girl who could do nothing to stop them from moving on…

But she wasn't a little girl anymore. She…she could stop this monster. She… could stop him from ever moving another step forward…

Her finger shook over the trigger.

Look at me, damn it!

He wasn't going to. He wasn't going to turn around and face her, even as he raised his hand to end the life of one of the only people she had left.

Fine.

That was fine.

She raised the gun a little higher.

He'd ensured…he'd ensured their backs would be the last thing she ever saw of them…

So… she would ensure his back would be the last thing she saw of him.

With a snarling, sobbing scream that tore at her throat, she pulled the trigger, pulled it so hard that it bit into her finger.

Just as she did, Scar turned. It was as if he sensed the shot coming, but he didn't try to dodge it. Instead, he stood there, his shoulders relaxing. He closed his eyes and the bullet tore through his skull.

Blood splashed everywhere as Scar crumpled to the ground. The foul smell engulfed Winry so completely that bile flooded her mouth. The gun tumbled from her numb fingers and Winry doubled over, heaving and heaving, feeling like she would never stop. She felt someone's hands on her shoulders, someone gently pulling her hair back with one hand.

When she was finally able to look up, her throat raw and burning, her nose and eyes still running, she saw it was Ed, that he had his arms around her, he was supporting her, but his face was paper white and his lips were trembling. Al was standing a little behind him, at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Ed croaked, squeezing her tightly in a hug. It was hard to understand him through his smashed nose. …I'm sorry…it's okay…it's okay…"

"No, it's not," Winry said, her voice weak and scratchy. She couldn't feel her arms and legs. "It's not. I killed him."

"No, it's my fault…this was all my fault, you're fine, don't feel like…you're okay, it's okay," Ed was repeating it over and over again like a mantra. He pulled her closer, enveloping her, and the horrible, bitter smell of his blood enveloped her too. Her head spun, she could barely breathe, she shoved at him, pulling away. "Ed…don't…blood…"

"A-all right…sorry.. Um…I can…" he started to back away, but stopped when she didn't let go his hand. As the world swayed around her, it was something solid she could hold onto, an anchor to keep her tethered.

They stayed that way, holding hands in shaky silence, as the military men gathered around them.