Chapter four Describing Winry

Love is friendship set on fire.

-Jeremy Taylor

She regretted ever promising the brothers that she would find their friend. Already she had been across town and even looked on the outskirts of the river, and still she found no one fitting the description of a gypsy with dark skin and eyes. One would think, in the midst of pale Germans, spotting such would be simple!

As if in answer to her thoughts, Winry became aware of the growing crowd around her and of their sudden restlessness. She pressed herself through the bodies, unease curling in the pit of her stomach.

…

Noah held an orange in each hand, weighing them and feeling them to help her decipher when would be the better buy. Both glowed with the healthy sheen of ripeness that promised a mouthful of sweet flavor and both were the same in size. She just simply couldn't decide.

"I'll take them both, thank you." She said to the woman behind the fruit stand who gave her a tight smile. When she reached for the bag the woman handed to her, their hands just barely touched, but it was enough to feel as if she had been struck in the face.

She felt fear.

A month and a half she had been traveling with Edward after the 'incident' and still, people looked at her clothes in judgment and her coloring in disdain. She could not prevent her thoughts from wondering that if she had indeed gone to the world beyond the Gate, would she have been accepted as an equal? Or would she be scorned and distrusted as a foreigner with no homeland? From the stories Ed had told her, his homeland was like a utopia, filled with every kind of joy possible, and yet it was also a place just like this one…full of war and strife.

Still…it had to have been better than the living hell she was in now.

She tucked a stray piece of her silken hair back behind her ear. The opportunity to go back beyond the Gate was destroyed when Ed and his brother Al miraculously broke apart the Portal by tearing the body of the dragon (to whom they referred to as Envy but refused explain) and separating what the Thule society had called the Spear of Longinus, to what they thought to be a 'holy spear'.

She had never seen such a pained and lonely expression on Edward's face. Or Alphonse's.

Her demeanor immediately fell. Oh, how she longed for the original Alphonse of her world and his friendly company. When Edward would be on one of his missions, it was Alphonse who was her comfort friend. And she sorely missed his stimulating conversations.

Noah paused in her stride when she came to a mechanic stand, vaguely remembering Ed saying something about his metal arm or, automail as they liked to call it, feeling stiff.

She was about to reach for one of the cans when the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly rose in warning and a guttural "Get out" sounded from beneath the shadows of the stand. She froze.

"Are you deaf?" The leering man finally revealed himself. "I don't serve Gypsies."

Noah froze, the familiar fear overwhelming her once more. When her hand did not move from its hovering position above the can, the man's hand grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her forward.

"Leave her alone, Tate, she'd done nothing to rile your anger."

Out of the corner of her eye, Noah caught sight of a familiar blonde walking calmly toward the two of them. It was the woman who had made Ed so uncomfortable… Winry, he had called her. Her thoughts were interrupted as Tate roughly shoved her away from the stand, causing her to collide with Winry who easily caught her shoulders and set her upright.

"Are you alright?" Winry asked her and she nodded mutely in response.

Winry turned to the shop keeper. "What has she done?"

"She's scaring away my customers." He spat. "I won't have her defiling my shop!"

"She has done nothing wrong. Apologize, Tate."

The man's face reddened in with anger as he glared at Winry with vengeance. It was obvious to Noah that they did not have the best history together. Tate's disdain of Winry was obvious in the way he looked at her. Suddenly, Tate's smiled menacingly.

"Well if it isn't the bisexual Bitch protecting the Witch; a tale for the storybooks, to be sure."

Given the perfect ammunition, it was Winry's smile that turned both mocking and smug. "You're just jealous, Tate, that you were bested by a woman in your own career. Well that's very 'manly' of you, taking it out on others."

"You didn't best me!" He roared, "You never have and you never will!"

How stupid the man was, Noah thought. He had foolishly fallen into Winry's ploy and easily tangled his foot in the rope of her trap. So easily manipulated; Noah was impressed and both mildly alarmed. But suddenly Tate was upon the young woman; his hulking form casting a shadow over her person. Ever so softly, he hissed:

"Find your place, wretch, or I'll find it for you."

"Is that a challenge, Tate?"

His sneer would have melted ice in that instant. "A race. Between an automobile of our own making, winner gets all and looser closes shop."

Something flickered in Winry's eyes but she refused to back down. "Deal."

Both turned away at the same time, Tate shoving through the crowd and Winry walking toward Noah who stood, frozen.

"Are you okay?"

Noah nodded, feeling lightheaded. "I'm just a little shaken."

Winry hummed in agreement as she gently grabbed the gypsy woman by the arm, leading through the mass of people. "Tate is just a man of his time so don't concern yourself over him." She paused. "Is your name Noah?"

"Yes,"

Winry gave a sigh of pure relief. "Thank the gods… you have to be one of the hardest women to find in all of Germany. I am Winry Rochell."

…

The smell of gasoline and undoubtedly many other harmful chemicals burned the noses of both Edward and Alphonse Elric, making their eyes tear and their breathing shallow. A lofty price for keeping silent.

"What do we do with them now?" A urgent voice sounded from within the room beyond their hiding place. "Hitler is in prison and the rest of us have been hanged for treason!"

"No matter the cost, we mustn't let the government get their hands on them. If they ever did everything we have fought for would have been for nothing. With these we still hold some kind of leverage." Another voice growled. "Hitler may be in prison…but the Nationalists see him as a hero for it and still fight for him."

"But why should we?! He completely disregarded Professor Eckhart's plans to move the rebellion over into Shamballa!"

"Fool! Eckhart was out of her mind in the end. She was the one who killed Hess, her right hand man! She herself was killed because she going through the portal transformed her into some kind of monster."

"So do we use them as ransom for Hitler's release?"

"…No. I have a better idea. But we'll need time."

"Which is something we don't have."

The voices instantly quieted, barely breathing…as if listening.

"What is it, Sean?"

"I thought I heard something…"

"It was probably just a rat. This place is full of them."

Just on the other side of the wall, the brothers glared at one another, silently accusing the other of the shuffle that had nearly led to their discovery.

"Probably," The one called Sean said almost reluctantly. "We'll meet up with Hans a week from now. Henry, you'll stay and keep the next shift."

"Sir!"

The brothers waited until all was silent on the other wall before quietly stumbling out of the factory building and into the surrounding city until they were far enough into safety.

"Now we know where they are, brother. What are we going to do?"

Ed sighed before shoving his slightly cold hands into the pockets of his vest. "We can't let them use those bombs as leverage, Al, especially if they want to use it for the Furors freedom. That's one thing we won't allow to happen."

Al was silent for a moment. "The confrontations and the people of the past always seem to have a way a way of haunting us. Even if we are in a different world."

Ed grunted in reply. "And they'll never leave us alone."

The young man, former State Alchemist, only thought of his brother's thoughts in an air of heavy responsibility, never once thinking that something good could come from such a dark statement.

Resembool

Her face held firm as she and her body strong as she finished connecting the final nerve cell to Bo's new automail arm. Absentmindedly she soothed her trembling patient, mumbling to him that it was all nearly finished and that the pain would soon dull. When finished, he lay panting on the small cot; his body exhausted from the foreign pain and the metal that now lay cold and hard at his side.

"Rest," she told him softly. "I'll be back in a few minutes with some deadeners for the pain."

Through a haze of dizziness he watched her leave. Ms. Rockbell was a strange woman, she truly was. Her smiles held the warmth of her heart and her eyes veiled nothing of her feelings of kindness. She was a woman of honor, he cold sense, and she intrigued him more than any other had in a long time.

His eyes caught sight of her board of pictures and almost greedily his eyes dashed across their messy train. Most were of a little blonde-bobbed girl (to whom he assumed was Winry) giving a wide, toothy grin toward the camera. There were also several pictures of two blond-headed boys—brothers, they looked to be. He lingered on a particular picture that had one of the boys (older, now) and a suit of armor standing behind him. His entire right arm was automail; his expression grim. It suddenly dawned on him.

'This was the boy she spoke of.'

It suddenly all made sense.

The door creaked open, then, and Winry came striding quietly into the room. "I told your mother I would take you home when you were ready. 'Course, she didn't seem to like the idea too much."

Bo chuckled dryly. "I apologize for her attitude. Ever since my father died she has needed someone to fuss over."

"No need to apologize. My granny was the same way with me growing up. Though, I don't think she was that mean…"

This brought a smile to his face. "Yeah, I don't suppose so." He became melancholy once more. "You lost someone too, I presume?"

Her brows furrowed slightly and her lips thinned at his inquiry. "I have. I've lost many of the people that I love."

"And how do you do it? Keep your smile, I mean."

"You learn to realize that the world doesn't resolve you; that your petty problems amount to nothing when compared to the suffering of others. Those who we have lost we should mourn their absence, remember their legacy, and love them forever. Our parting is not forever."

"And you honestly believe that yourself?"

Winry looked at him sadly, sensing his hidden question. "I do, but I also believe in grieving."

Underground City

Four weeks had passed since Bo had received his mechanical arm and he was finally able to use his arm for more strenuous labor, with Winry's permission, of course. So Bo offered to take her to the dig-sight to where he worked and where the accident happened so she could judge his working status.

Which was how Winry found herself here, and enveloped in a flurry of un-welcomed emotions that threatened to bring down her spirits. She was back in the Underground City…except in its underground…strange.

And it had been the last place she had seen Ed and Al before they had permentetly vanished beyond the Gate, and without saying goodbye.

Tell her she always did make the best.

Roy had told her those were Ed's parting words when Al used her as an excuse for him to stay. That statement alone made her burn with fury. To the end that boy always referred to her as 'the best mechanic', and oh, how it got on her nerves! Did he have anything else to say besides that? It wasn't as if she was asking him to be honest with his feelings and confess his undying love for her. No. Of course not.

Liar

Ok, maybe not in that sense. She just wanted more than that. She knew she cared for him as more than a friend on some distinctive level, but she would never admit it. Not now anyway. Not when to admit it now would only make the heartbreak and the pain so much harder, knowing that there was no chance of any of it happening.

'Are you feeling the same things too, Edward? Are you afraid to move on in fear of hurting those you left behind even though you know you'll never see them again? Alphonse? How are you guys coping with the fact of never being able to see your loved ones ever again— never seeing home again?' She asked in her silent desperation. 'How do you live, knowing that?'

As expected, her questions went unanswered and her emotions remained maxed with worry. This was ridiculous; she couldn't keep doing this to herself. It was slowly killing her, and only her. She could almost hear Ed's nonchalant voice echo through the folds of her memory as he bluntly put her concerns to rest. You're so stupid, Winry.

She was stupid. Mourning over them as if they were dead? They weren't dead; they were just separated by the void of time and space, never to be seen for the rest of eternity. Hell, as if it wasn't the same thing.

Carefully and slightly anxious, Winry followed Bo down a descending, (much to her horror) narrow glow-lit path. He grabbed her hand so she wouldn't loose her balance; she held onto it loosely.

"My Aunt Dietlinde's tent is by the main dig-area where I was working. We should see her there."

"You still want to do it even after what happened?"

A surprising smile graced his newly enlightened features.

"This job is my life," he said. "Nothing can keep me from completing it. Especially not when we're so close…"

"What are you working on?" she grasped a jutting rock when her shoes skidded across the gravel. Her companion reached to steady her and she quickly pushed aside his help. "In my experience nothing good can come from this place."

His quiet excitement was grimly noted when he began to speak, completely overlooking her last statement.

"We've found a transmutation circle carved into the heart of the cavern. My Aunt thinks it might be a permanent Portal or a Gate to the Other Worlds.

"Nothing good can come from messing with the forbidden, Bo." Winry said with an intensity that frightened even her; her heart nearly failing at the thought.

Not even if there was a chance to see Ed and Al again?

Her patient narrowed his eyes, obviously contemplating on her sudden paleness and sheen of sweat covering her brow.

"There are no consequences in this situation," he said, "because the exchange was already made two hundred years ago. There is but one piece left to the puzzle before we can access it to our will."

The breath was caught in her throat and it came out as a wheezy exhale of disgust. "Exchange? Your working off the souls of the murdered! You can't tell me there won't be consequences."

"You don't understand," he snapped, "nor do you need to."

They continued on in silence until they reached the sleeping area and when Bo's aunt could not be found and was reported to have already retired, Winry was led to her own tent which she gladly accepted with a sigh of weary relief. But on her knees, ready to crawl into her haven, the sight of the giant, and most horrendous transmutation circle lit only by generated lights. She turned away, clutching her trembling had to her chest.

'Impossible.'

Quickly she sunk into her sleeping bag, grunting when the cold cavern floor began to sleep through the folds of her sleeping bag. She drifted, wishing for oblivion.

But instead, the nightmares began.

Germany

It took all he had not to damn his overwhelming sense of stupidity in falling for Winry's gallant fight in the defense of her sexuality. It was her machine and she was to be driving it on the race day. But no, his horrid sense of over protectiveness kicked in and he would be damned before he let her drive in that race. So their 'discussion' ended with Ed brilliantly declaring that he would be the one to drive.

Nevertheless, he found himself laying out protective clothing for the morrow's event in defending Winry's position as a town mechanic. Women weren't exactly revered in the best of lights in this strange world and that notation actually pissed him off. His Winry had been a brilliant mechanic, and the Winry of this world was, too. It wasn't right for people to restrict the potential of others—women and children included.

Edward nearly laughed. His Winry. He had no idea when that had come about, but against his better judgment he loved the way it sounded. Damnation! He pressed his brown to the cold stone interior. Why was he doing this to himself? It was hopeless. His situation was hopeless. He was hopeless. And love was confusing. Love?

"Are you ready?"

He was pulled from his reveries. "Yeah," he said shortly, "I'm ready."

The mirror of a woman he once knew, cocked her head to the side while a sly, knowing smile curved about her undeniably German features.

"Who were you thinking about?"

"No one."

"So you were thinking about someone?"

He glanced warily at her. "Just remembering home and the people Al and I left there."

"Ah," she said, "So you were thinking about a girl."

A faint blush fell upon his features as he busied himself in order to distract; ignoring her."

Winry Rochell sighed before coming to sit along side her house guest; watching her dangling feet swing back and forth. "When a man has given away his heart, isn't it only natural that he wish he were back where he felt whole?"

"Very deep, Winry." He bit out sarcastically and she glared at him.

"I'm serious, Edward. Haven't you ever heard the expression 'Home is where the heart is'?"

He closed his eyes. "I have no home, anymore."

He chanced a glance toward Winry, expecting awkwardness or pity but was shocked and slightly moved at the expression of understanding shinning through her brilliant eyes. "I don't know your story, Ed," she said, "But I can understand where you are coming from. I too lost the one I love, but it was in a war I hate."

Ed was at a loss for words.

"I was," Winry nodded, "And his name, like yours, was also Edward."

His friend gave a dry laugh, looking to her feet as if she were inspecting her shoes for scuffs. "And he looked just like you. But in my heart I knew you weren't him, even if everything else about you pointed to the possibility."

'She was in love with the alternate me?'

And suddenly he could hear the Colonel's arrogant voice taunting him. If that's not proof enough for you, Fullmetal, then you're an incompetent, little idiot.

"Now, Edward," she smiled at him with the melancholy tug of her lips. "I told you of my love and it's only fair you tell me about yours.

Ed looked away. "I wasn't…I'm not… I don't think I'm in love with her. It's true that I never had the chance to tell her that I thought about her as more than a friend." A sheepish smile filled his countenance. "It's as pathetic, I know, but Al and I were so caught up in our journey that we had not time to commit. We're childhood friends but that was the extent of it."

"Describe her to me."

A faint blush crossed his cheeks. "Excuse me?"

"I said, describe her to me."

Leaning back, the former Alchemist closed his eyes, allowing the number of images to flutter across his mind's eye of his childhood friend. A soft smile creased his mouth. "She was crazy," he began. "She was a compassionate woman but had the fuse of a firecracker when provoked."

Winry Rochell laughed. "Sounds like a fun woman."

"She is. And she was also proud—the good kind of proud, I mean, where she took joy in a job well done. She loved helping people with her job, too." He held up his metal arm. "She constructed this for me."

The blonde woman eyed the piece of machinery critically. "She must be really good at what she does. I've never seen anything like that…"

Suddenly nervous, Ed covered up his arm with his sleeve and attempted to change the subject. But Winry frowned again.

"Ed, you keep switching tenses. Is she alive? Did she leave? What?"

"She's alive and she didn't leave, but to see her again is impossible."

She ah'ed in understanding. "What does she look like?"

"She has long golden hair that glints in the evening sun. It would be the first thing Al and I would see off in the distance while we were on our way home. She was always waiting for us… She had eyes like the sky, flawless…." He paused when he heard Winry's light chortle. "What is it?" he snapped, a little perturbed that she found his story amusing.

"It's nothing," she waved him off with a sly smile. "You really are in love with her."

With his mouth hanging slightly, Winry brushed passed him calling over her shoulder that he and Al would be sharing the room with her and Noah since the temperatures were supposed to drop especially low that night.

With a heady sigh he followed after her, completely missing the swirling dark eyes of one of his companions in the corner.

…

The sleeping arrangements weren't exactly awkward, but they were definitely a call for modesty. There was a small twin bed on each side of the room, with two quickly made pallets on the floor. Al had already snagged the pallet closest to the heating stove, over by Noah's bed. That left him to the pallet by Winry's bed, so he took it happily. As he curled up deeper into the covers in an attempt to warm his feet, he was vaguely aware of Winry stepping over him and of the sound of the bed sinking with her weight, before he finally drifted into a light slumber.

Somewhere in the Between

Winry awoke to the strong, nearly unbearable feeling of nausea. She took deep, cleansing breaths in order calm her churning stomach and sighed when it helped at least a little. Despite of her displeasure in doing so, Winry pried open her crusted eyes to squint into the filmy darkness. The air in the cave, it seemed, had changed from when she feel asleep. No longer was it thick and oppressing but instead light and sweet. She began to panic. And no longer was she sleeping on her lumpy cot but instead upon a feathery mattress. She looked outside the window where the soft glow of the moon cascaded like a silvery waterfall into the small room.

Swinging her legs over, Winry froze when they hit warm flesh.

"Ugh…" She hit it again and it moved.

Her breathing quickened. Now was not the time to have a panic attack.

"Winry, are you okay?" she heard an all-too familiar voice ask from below her.

"Edward?" She flinched at how her voice trembled.

"Who else would it be?" he growled. Ed shifted as to look at her and froze in the horror in her eyes. Winry shook her head; disbelieving.

"It can't be. You and Al disappeared behind the Gate… There's no way you could have made it back?"

It was his turn to look horrified and his body quivered as his Winry sunk to her knees in front of him and, with a trembling hand, traced the lines of his face with her hand and followed the line of his body until it reached his automail limb. Gooseflesh rose where her finger touched.

It had to be a dream.

Or a really cruel nightmare.