YAY! EXTRA CHAPPIE! I know, I know, it took a while, but it's here! EXTRAS! Who doesn't love extras?

Disclaimer: . . . And my great mood is ruined. No, it's not mine, otherwise I'd be living the good life in Bermuda or something like that. I'm not living in Bermuda. Therefore, no, I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. If you still don't understand, learn to read.

Seriously. This was pretty clear.

Now, READ!

The man had come in with a long-healed injury. His right arm had been lost in the Eastern Rebellion. His whole arm was gone from the shoulder down.

"I want the best automail you've got, Ms. Rockbell!" he stated firmly, excitement clear in his eyes. "I'm going to join the military, and I need both of my arms to make it happen."

Winry smiled softly at her newest customer. "I'll do my best, Mr. Bander."

Ralph Bander blushed at the beautiful smile Winry Rockbell bestowed upon him. She was gorgeous, really. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, lean body, and that perfect smile.

And even then, she was always a little sad. Her eyes glowed with some deep, inner pain that many longed to cure her of. If a man captured her heart, he would find out the cause of her sadness, and protect her from it. Ralph Bander saw this pain.

To him, she was truly the epitome of perfection.

She was this to many men. Many customers of hers became her beaus. Ralph Bander was the most recent to be drawn in by that sad, sweet smile.

When she got to her workroom after the surgery, Winry sighed. The best I've got, huh? she thought, glancing at her worktable. Several parts were strewn around, wires and ball bearings and screws, so very many screws...

And that right arm and left leg, lying there in the middle of the chaos. Glowing, shimmering in the dim light. Every aspect was perfect, the best she could do, at least for now. Sooner or later she'd be able to improve it, but as of that moment, those pieces were the best she had.

Out of all her customers, she knew Ralph would fit the arm best. He wasn't all that tall, and his arms were roughly the same length...

But she couldn't. She knew that all too well. That arm and leg were being kept for someone else, someone who she had always given the best of the best to. No one else could get that arm and leg. Those pieces belonged together on a very important person. They were... reserved.

For Ed.

Winry sighed. Ed. He'd been gone for two years, but she still kept updating those pieces for him. No one knew she was doing it, not even Granny. Oh, they'd understand, for sure. Especially Al and Granny. But they'd try to convince her to move on. Find a nice boy and settle down.

Leave the past in the past.

Winry went over to her desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers. Flipping through them, she felt the spots that were more wrinkled than others, where tears had dried, leaving the sheets discolored and mildewed.

Finally, she found the one she was looking for and began to read.

Hi Ed,

It's the day after what you called the Promised Day. Everything's fine here. We're working hard to keep up with the sudden crowd of customers. It's crazy! I've become the go-to person for automail. I'm not really sure why. But just you wait: when you get back, you'll have the best automail you could possibly dream of!

On a more serious note, I still don't know what made me break down like that after we came to. It was like a part of me was ripped away from my whole, or died, or something. Something just... disappeared. I can't help but associate it with you. I hope you realize I won't rest until I see you again, safe and sound. And if you're not safe and/or sound, you can get acquainted with my wrench. Again. Al better be okay, too, or I'll hit you more.

Did Al get his body back? Did you? I know how badly you want your body back, but I can't help but hope you didn't get it. Wouldn't want my beautiful masterpieces to go to waste!

Here she had faltered, and her hand had shook as she penned the last words.

I love you. Come home soon.

Love, Winry

New tears dotted an old letter. Ed. Back then, she'd really believed that he would come home. That he'd come waltzing in, his automail in shambles, slightly taller than her (it took him long enough), ready to receive her beating/doting with the usual complaints and hidden smiles that he must have thought she didn't notice. Ready to be at home again. Ready to receive her love, and maybe... just maybe... return it.

Of course, he'd never come home. Just Al, back in his own body but missing his brother, practically his other half. Just Al, emaciated but breathing, smelling, tasting, feeling... truly alive again, alive as he hadn't been for years, alive as he couldn't possibly be in the armor.

But at what cost? Ed's sacrifice? Was that the cost?

It wasn't Al's fault, and Winry didn't blame him.

It was Ed's fault, always making sacrifices, always giving too much, too fast, too soon. Always diving in headfirst, never thinking about the consequences his actions had on the rest of the people who were left alive.

"Idiot," Winry breathed out heavily, still allowing her tears to stain the paper she held.

She'd contemplated suicide many times, but she couldn't go through with it. Maybe it was cowardice. Maybe it was compassion. Whatever it was, it stopped her every time. Stopped her from taking the pills. Stopped her from pulling the trigger. Stopped her from bringing down the knife. All stopped, all halted, all ceased. Frozen, then slowly dissolving, melting into a past already filled with loss, mistakes, anger, and self-hatred. Disappearing into that soupy mess, just another wrong move that she reconsidered just in time.

She knew how all of those men looked at her. Like she was some prize. Win Winry's heart and you get a gold medal! Like trying to be the object of her affections was some kind of tournament, where she was both the obstacle and the prize.

Too bad she had her heart set on someone else. Someone who saw her as more than a prize. She was his mechanic. She was a person. She was a childhood friend. She was someone to argue with, someone to tell all your secrets to, someone who could understand.

At least, that's how Winry hoped Ed saw her. Had seen her. Yes, how Ed had seen her. He was gone now.

Winry had promised that she would try not to cry for Ed the day after she heard the news. When Mustang had written that note for her, or when she'd found it, or whatever. She'd told herself that Ed wouldn't want her to cry, and that she should honor his wishes and keep moving forward.

Still, there were times when she had to let it out.

"I'm sorry, Ed," she whispered, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm just not as good at keeping promises as you are."

A few days later, Ralph Bander was given his automail. When it was attached, he screamed.

After that, he admired it, comparing it to his friends' and comrades' automail and mentioning how his arm was far superior. It had to be the best automail out there!

Winry smiled sadly, making him blush.

Little did he know that she was really smiling because of the arm and the leg that still lay on her desk. Waiting for someone. Someone special.

Waiting for Ed.

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Personally, I think this little extra is adorable. I know, I'm prejudiced, but still! It's just so CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!

I sound like Hughes.

*pauses for a moment to honor the memory of Maes Hughes*

Okay, now, RFF! Before I kill something!

Like that bug over there.

*WHACK*

There, all better.

(Hehehehe. . . I'm bored.)

Love ya! lulu