Title: Remembrance
Rating: G – PG
Characters/Pairings: Winry-centered, mostly one-sided EdxWin
Genre: Angst-ish, a little romance, general, character study.
Warnings: Umm… If you didn't know about the deaths of Trisha and Winry's parents… Then go finish reading/watching before starting on fanfiction…
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist.
Summary: "Though she feels guilty for thinking it, she knows she isn't as weak as Trisha Elric was."
Notes: Umm… I'm pretty much an EdxWin fan if you ask me, But I don't mind other pairings... And I support a few... But I don't think EdxWin would ever work without some angst. So… Here's my angst. I don't think Ed'll really ever settle down enough and stuff, you know? But I also like to think that Winry wants him to be like a normal husband, even though he's not. I think I had some problems with the tenses, though…

Edward is awkward and restless. She knows he's getting stir-crazy and he's already read the meager collection of books Risenbool had to offer twice over. She's only been married to him for three months. She knows he'll never settle down. She knew he could never stay in one place too long, hell, he couldn't even sit still for more than three minutes, but she still expected something.

Maybe she thought that if she loved him enough, he'd find a reason to stay. She supposed it was working so far; after all, he hadn't left yet. But somehow, she knew it wasn't just that. He didn't want to leave her alone and sad, missing him like his mother missed his father. She always tells herself that it'd never happen. Though she feels guilty for thinking it, she knows she isn't as weak as Trisha Elric was.

She wouldn't break down because Edward wasn't here to hold her up. She could stand just fine on her own, thank you. She was a Rockbell for goodness' sakes.

She was making breakfast, eggs and bacon, nothing special since she'd never spent much time learning how to cook. Regrettable, now that she had to cook not only for herself, but for Edward, too, as he managed to catch the kitchen on fire in an attempt to make a salad. Edward was sitting awkwardly at the table, waiting.

She knows he doesn't remember what his father did in the morning. She knows that he's new to relationships like this and doesn't know what to do. She knows that he's frightened that he'll hurt her or make her cry again. She just wishes he'd try to act like he was supposed to. Like he was married to her, not just staying over. Like he wasn't just that stupid brat who lived next door and came over for a free breakfast. Like he was a father or a husband or some sort of adult that had a reason to be there. He could have acted like… like he cared.

She looked over at him and watched him for a moment, knowing her eggs still had a few more minutes before they'd be done. He was staring off into space again. Looking away to that distance place she could never quite seem to understand. She wanted to yell at him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to sit there and read that paper and talk about the weather or mention something from the articles he read. He was supposed to tell her that her breakfast smelled delicious even if it was smoking and making the whole house stink. He was supposed to tell her 'I love you' every morning and give her a kiss, so she could tease him about the stubble on his cheeks.

Of course, Edward didn't do these things. But she'd always remembered them from her childhood. She still remembered the mornings where her mother would be cooking, and she'd toddle down the steps, rubbing the sleep form her eyes. She'd remember her father resting his hands on her mother's waist and kissing her as she giggled girlishly. She remembered her mother saying that he needed a shave and he'd simply reply with saying that the food smelled delicious and he'd steal some bacon off the waiting plate. Then he'd sit at the table and read the paper and tell her mother about the news as her mother hummed.

She remembered their faces going dark and the smiles disappearing and the humming stopping. She remembered the soft talks under their breaths when they thought she was still in bed. She remembered the late nights where the lights in the study would be on and she'd wonder why they were up and didn't tell her. She remembered the anxious lines of worry on her mother's brow and her father's strange seriousness.

She remembered they left for Ishbal and didn't look back. She remembered the smell of fried eggs and bacon and waking to find Granny Pinako waiting for her downstairs. She remembered that they kissed her on the cheeks and told her goodbye and said they'd be back soon. She remembered that her mother had cried and her father had kissed her and put his hands on her waist and she let out a half-choked sob. She remembered them leaving and thinking that they were so tall and far away.

She looks over at Edward again, still staring off to somewhere, the paper sitting neatly folded on the table, his cheek resting against his fist. He doesn't move, but he notices her stare. He tilts his head and gives her a small smile, the creeping kind that makes her feel like she's finally done something right. She smiles at him, but he's not looking anymore.

"The eggs are burning." He tells her.

With a jolt, she rushes to rescue the slightly black eggs. She doesn't remember her mother ever burning the eggs. She doesn't remember her father ever complaining about the food, either. But then again, she doesn't remember them much anymore.