October 20th, 1952
Edward stepped off the train in Central in the early morning light with a feeling that was an odd mix of relief and disconcerted unease. He was home, like he had wanted to be for months, but for some reason it just didn't feel right.
All around him people rushed from the train, hugging loved ones and reuniting with cheers and tears of joy. He could see Roy and Riza hugging Maes tightly and meeting Elena, all of them smiling. Less than twenty yards away Sara was locked tightly in an embrace with Franz Heimler, – now a Lieutenant Colonel as well apparently – kissing like there was no one else around them. Of course, given the number of other couples doing the same thing – Alphonse and Elicia included – they might as well be. Alyse hugged her father when Al and Elicia finally parted and Ed wondered if perhaps he had just been forgotten.
He hadn't been expecting Winry. She was still somewhere down in Aerugo, but at the moment he felt lonely. It was stupid of course. What had he expected anyway? He had never been one for overly emotional greetings.
"Dad!" Ethan's head poked through the throng, followed by the rest of Ed's youngest son. There was no hesitation. Even in the crowd, the boy hugged him without any self-consciousness whatsoever.
Ed's arms went around his son and he held on tight. A year apart seemed to melt away in seconds. "You're taller."
"Mom said the same thing," Ethan chuckled.
"She's here?" Ed stepped back, his next comment startled right out of his head.
"Yeah," Ethan smiled. "She got back late last night. You didn't know?"
Ed shook his head. "Communication isn't great lately apparently. Where is she?" If Winry was back in Central, why wasn't she here?
"She hurt her ankle," Ethan explained. "That's why they sent her home. She was really tired last night, so I let her sleep in this morning. She's supposed to stay off her foot."
Injured; wasn't that just what Ed had been concerned about? He scowled, but shook his head. No, it wasn't worth getting pissed off. "Did you get a ride with Elicia?"
Ethan shook his head and grinned proudly. "Nope. I drove the car."
Either his hearing was now going, or Ed had missed more than he realized. "When did you learn to drive?"
"Mom started teaching me before she left," Ethan replied as he grabbed Ed's one rucksack. "Aunt Elicia let me practice a lot."
"Well that's good," Ed flashed a weak smile. "I'll have to thank her for putting her life on the line."
"Hey, I'm a good driver," Ethan countered. "Do you need to go to Headquarters first or do you get to come home?"
"Work first," Ed replied with only mild regret, and a twinge of guilt for not feeling more. He should go home first and talk to Winry, but the coward in him wanted to avoid that conversation as much as his heart screamed to get home as fast as he could. The problem was, he still had no idea what to say. He wasn't prepared to talk to her yet, not when he had thought she was hundreds of miles away. "Duty before pleasure," he added flippantly and grinned.
"Of course," Ethan chuckled. "I can drop you off. Do you want me to wait for you?"
"Nah," Ed shook his head as they headed for the car. "You'll just get bored. I've got reports to hand in, and I should talk to Breda. They've got other people taking care of getting things unloaded and all the menial labor," he smirked. That was good. He wasn't in the mood to detail with those kinds of details.
"Aunt Elicia says that they'll have everyone over for dinner in a day or two when things settle down," Ethan said, keeping up a general flow of pleasant chatter as they got to the car, got in, and headed out of the crowded station towards Central HQ.
"That's nice," Ed replied. He didn't say much else other than to compliment Ethan's driving. On another day he might have joked that having been taught partially by Winry, he was amazed that Ethan was such a safe driver, but right now it didn't seem even remotely funny. His head was too full, and it was easier just to listen to Ethan chat on about school, working with Doc Gray, and about his latest letter from Lia.
It was home, but Ed wasn't sure why things felt so strange.
Sara was very glad it wasn't a normal workday, even though Central HQ didn't really have weekends with the war on. Her report in was very brief and then she and Franz retreated to her apartment where they could spend a little time alone.
"Are you sure you'd rather spend your first day home with me than over at your folks' place?" Franz asked; his eyes full of concern as she locked the door behind them.
Sara chuckled softly as she fell into his arms, hugging him tightly once more. "After a year apart, are you really offering to turn down time with me?"
"Well, not really," Franz objected. "I just thought you might want to see your mother and brother more first, and your father of course."
"Right now I think Mom and Dad could probably use a little time to themselves," Sara replied, her good mood souring slightly with worry. "They've both been through a lot lately, and Dad always needs some time to re-center after a long conflict. And Ethan needs them both right now more than I do. Tomorrow's better. Today…and tonight… I want to catch up with you." She kissed him, a soft sweet kiss, less fervent and furious than the first embrace they had shared on the platform.
Franz smiled; content to return the kiss until they parted naturally. "If we try to get completely caught up in one night, I'm likely to pass out from exhaustion."
"Don't tell me you've gone soft while I was away," Sara teased, poking him in the stomach. The flesh underneath was firm and solid, rather the opposite.
"Not particularly," Franz chuckled at her pleased surprise. "There wasn't much to do without you around besides work out and catch up on my reading."
"So your body's gotten better but your eyesight's gotten worse?" Sara asked with a playful smile. She pushed his glasses back up his nose.
Franz chuckled, his warm baritone a welcoming sound that felt like home. "That about sums it up. I can still see how breathtakingly beautiful you are though."
"Now I know your eyes are going," Sara replied. In her dusty, beaten up uniform and a solid day past a good shower, she was hardly anyone's idea of breathtaking, unless they meant the smell of her boots!
"I can always see you clearly," Franz shook his head. "So what do you want first, Belle? Lunch, a nice long hot bath, or a little personal attention?"
"All three, in the opposite order," Sara ran her fingers lightly up his neck as she wrapped her arms around it and stretched up to kiss him again. She wanted to feel alive and loved. She knew one thing for certain now. Franz was home as much as her apartment, or Headquarters, or even her family. As long as she had him she was home.
After the first unimpeded long hot shower he'd had in months, followed by a home-cooked meal that was so good he thought he might burst afterwards from eating too much, Alphonse was feeling better. Not perfect certainly – far from it – but definitely much better than he had in nearly a year.
The house was as peaceful as when he had left it. The cats hid from him at first, but warmed up again quickly, rubbing up against his legs and begging to be pet before dinner was over. Everything was clean and quiet. It was a disjointed feeling compared to the living conditions he had gotten used to in the jungles and then in the Embassy, but it felt good to be home and his surroundings were comforting and more familiar with each passing minute.
Even his comfortable old pajamas and bathrobe felt strange after so long in uniform, but it was a nice change. After dinner, Alyse left off her happy chattering about everything that had gone on while he was away and slipped up to her room, leaving Al and Elicia snuggled up on the couch, alone for the first time in far too long.
Al sipped a glass of wine and enjoying the feeling of Elicia snuggled up against his side. He could smell the scent of roses from the soap he knew she liked to use. "So you liked the gifts?" he asked.
Elicia chuckled softly. "I already told you I did. Besides, the best gift I could possibly have right now is having you home." She poked him playfully in the side. "What's left of you anyway. Don't they feed soldiers?"
"Nothing much worth digesting," Al retorted, giving her a squeeze with his arm. "Not compared to the feast we had this evening."
Elicia beamed with pleasure. "Glad to know I haven't lost my touch." She wrapped her arm back around his waist. "I've dreamed so often that you were here, it almost feels like I'm still dreaming."
"Do your dreams include this?" Al asked, grinning as his fingers worked down her shoulder and tickled her under her sweater. Elicia squealed and giggled as she jumped backwards, but couldn't move far because of his arm blocking her path. He put down the empty wine glass and proceeded to tickle her until he had her pinned to the couch and they were both panting too hard to laugh.
Al gazed down into those brilliant green eyes and kissed her deeply, slowly, the playfulness of the moment slipping naturally into something startlingly sensual. Usually Al's sensibilities were tenderer, more refined, but a year without his wife in any capacity made it impossible to resist. Emotions spilled and overflowed, and all the pent up frustration and pain and worry seemed to be pushed away by Elicia's presence. She kissed him back, slowly at first than with the same growing need for closeness, for real human contact.
A woman's touch; the phrase meant something entirely different than it had once in Al's mind. Elicia's hands seemed to heal his emotional wounds – temporarily at least – even as they removed his robe and slid up under the shirt of his light blue flannel pajamas. His heart pounded faster, and Al gave up trying to think. Worrying about what had happened wouldn't change it, and he could barely think coherently the way Elicia so easily pulled high-running emotions from him.
It was only the thought of their daughter possibly coming back downstairs that gave Al the strength of will to briefly break the kiss. "We should… move this upstairs," he suggested, breathing heavily. It was too early in the evening for sleep, but certainly not for the alternative!
Elicia laughed. "It's nice to know some things haven't changed," she chuckled fondly. "If you want to take this someplace more private, you're going to have to get off me."
"Oh, right," Al blushed, then laughed at the absurdity of the moment. What was there to be embarrassed about anyway? They had been married for almost twenty years. He sat up and let Elicia get off the couch. "I'm a little out of practice."
"Well I should hope so," Elicia smirked, and Al felt his face flush again as he realized what she meant. "Don't worry," she smiled more kindly. "So am I. We can get back into practice together."
"It's always easier with a partner you can trust," Al chuckled, standing and kissing her nose just before she turned and headed for the stairs. They could be talking about dancing for all it sounded like, but Al's reactions to Elicia were far from innocent. He followed her willingly, incapable of stopping now – not that he wanted to. He needed her on so many levels.
Elicia winked at him as she vanished around the corner. "It's always better with a partner whose moves you know."
Edward got home a lot later than he planned. He felt bad but there hadn't been much to do about it. That was why he had told Ethan not to wait for him. It was past dinner time when he walked into the house, hung his uniform jacket on the coat rack beside the door, and tried not to feel like a stranger walking into his own house.
Everything was the same, and yet not quite. It was the little things that threw him. The dining table chairs had been reupholstered, and one of the paintings on one wall had been reframed. There was a new throw rug under the coffee table in the living room in a soft cream and yellow that matched the pale goldenrod yellow that had always been the color of the living room walls. The dark wood was the same, but it looked like it had been polished within the last few months.
"Hello?" he called out when no one greeted him immediately. Out on the deck, he could see Bounce doing just what her named declared as she yapped excitedly and tried furiously to get to him. "I'm sorry I'm late. I couldn't get Brahm to shut up for five minutes." It was then that Ed thought he heard the near-silent sounds of crying. With a frown, he walked the last few feet down the entry way fully into the living room.
Winry stood with her back to the door near the bookshelves, holding something in her hand. It only took Ed a moment – even from a distance – to recognize the letter he had written her when he arrived in Bueáire, barely days before Winry had shown up. Obviously she had never gotten the letter before this. His throat constricted. He remembered every word like he had written it yesterday.
Dear Winry,
We finally made it to Bueáire. I want you to know that, despite some rather bizarre reports you've probably heard, I'm all right. Yeah, I was stupid and got shot. Sorry about that. Fortunately we've got good doctors around here and it was nothing a little alchemy couldn't fix!
It's hell out there. I've never seen such brutal fighting. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is knowing that you're safe at home where none of this can hurt you, and that you'll be there when I get back, like always. I probably don't say it enough, but I appreciate that. I can never focus on my work when you're in danger, not the way I should. It's bad enough when you're safe, because you're always distracting.
I don't know when I'll see you again, but I'm sorry for worrying you.
Also, you were right.
Love,
Edward
Ed didn't need the paper in front of him to recall the words, but he wondered which had her crying. "Winry?" She turned slowly, and Ed finally saw the bandage tightly around her right ankle. Ethan had warned him, but seeing Winry hurt struck a raw nerve.
"I'm sorry, Edward," she sniffled, and Ed suspected that if Winry could run, she'd have been in his arms already. "I –"
Well shit. Ed crossed the distance for her, and hugged her, gently though. She looked more breakable than he remembered. He couldn't take seeing her cry. "No I am," he replied softly, his throat so tight he could barely get the words out. "We both know I'm a jerk."
Winry shook her head. "I don't know what came over me in Bueáire, and when you didn't reply to my letter…"
"What letter?" Ed asked. "I never got a letter from you."
"I sent one," Winry replied, looking perplexed and maybe a little relieved. Ed wasn't sure, and the fact he couldn't quite read her emotions when they were clear on her face stung.
"Well it never arrived," Ed replied. "I don't know what happened to it. But it's a war. Stuff happens." He hugged her tighter as she gripped him. "I wasn't sure I'd see you again," he admitted softly.
"You didn't think I could make it in a war zone?" Winry snorted, meeting his eyes. Her expression was clear this time; slightly amused, irritated, and maybe a little hurt.
Ed cringed and averted his eyes. "I…thought you left."
"Left? Why the hell would you think that?" Winry scowled, obviously confused.
"Because that's what you said," he replied, barking even though he hadn't intended to, but he was worn down and he was tired of holding in his temper around everyone he knew. "Or don't you remember? You said you were done waiting at home for me, that you wouldn't do it anymore; never again. Ring any bells?"
"You idiot," Winry glared right back at him. "You really thought I'd leave?"
It was then that Ed realized the full magnitude of the mistake he'd made. He'd questioned Winry's motives, her devotion, her love for him, and he'd assumed that she would give up. It wasn't Winry who was at fault here; it was him. "Shit, Winry I… I'm sorry. I panicked! You were so mad at me when I left, and then when you ambushed me in Bueáire I –"
"Ambushed?"
"Bad choice of words." This was not going well at all. "I thought you were safe at home, and then to find out you were out there too, putting yourself in danger and what you said, it just all got jumbled." He looked into her eyes, begging her to understand. Otherwise he might drown in the guilt. "It's a lame excuse but yeah… I thought you were leaving me."
Winry stared at him for so long Ed had to fight not to fidget. Finally she shook her head and sighed. "You're incredible." From her tone, it wasn't a compliment. If anything, she just sounded tired. "I'm not about to leave you, Ed, not even for something as stupid as completely disregarding my feelings on, well, anything involving you running off and leaving me behind."
"Like you going off into a war zone and getting hurt isn't ignoring mine?" Ed snorted, stepping back and dropping his arms from around her. "Or was that just a little turn-about?"
Winry glowered at the caustic remark. "We agreed a long time ago that you don't decide what I do and don't do, Edward Elric. Or have you forgotten that promise?"
"No, I haven't," Ed replied as he moved passed her towards the kitchen. "I'm thirsty. You want something?"
"Then I'd love to know where you get off getting mad at me for doing what I felt I needed to. Isn't that why you do everything you do?" Winry countered, turning awkwardly.
Ed pulled a glass out of the cupboard and went over to the pantry. At least nothing seemed to have changed in the kitchen. He avoided Winry's eyes, the accusation in them. It might be fair, but he didn't have to like it. "No one said the world was fair, Winry." He poured a little scotch in the bottom of the glass and added soda.
She surprised him. "Oh, forget it. Obviously nothing's really changed, has it?" Since when did Winry back down from a fight?
"I guess not," Ed replied neutrally as he sipped his drink. He was so damned tired of hurting someone or something – or somewhere. Right now it was his head and his heart that ached the most.
That was apparently not the right answer. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Edward." A few seconds later Ed heard the sound of crutches on the wood, then going up the stairs. He could hear music in Ethan's room, and the dog still scrambling outside. The world hadn't changed, but he had. Somehow, that didn't seem to have made anything better. Ed downed the rest of the glass in one swallow. He contemplated a second, but decided against, put the bottles away, and let in the dog.
Bounce practically leapt into his arms before Ed crouched down to pet her. "Well at least someone's glad to see me," Ed rubbed her favorite spot behind her ears while the dog's tail wagged frantically.
He couldn't avoid her forever, and he didn't want to. Ed resolved he'd simply have to find a way to make it up to Winry. She was still here. She had told him she wasn't leaving him. So why hadn't that cold, gut-twisting ache inside him gone away?
By the time he got upstairs and showered, Winry seemed to be asleep. It seemed a little like being in his dreams as changed into shorts and a shirt and slid into his place on the bed. The sheets felt crisp, unused. Of course they would be fresh. Winry hadn't been here for months either, but it was mildly unsettling. It reminded him of the linens in the Embassy, or hotels he had stayed at in the past.
Taking the risk, he put out his hand and placed it against Winry's back. It was a small gesture, but something he used to do, a small connection. Winry stirred. "What?" she asked blearily. She really must have been tired to be out cold so early.
Ed swallowed uneasily. "I love you," he replied softly.
It was a long few seconds before Winry shifted again, and Ed was rewarded with a quiet, "I love you, too." Moments later, her even breathing told Ed that she was unconscious.
Only then did he close his eyes and fall asleep.
Alphonse had thought he would fall asleep quickly, but sleep proved to be illusive. Not that he minded; snuggled up in his own bed with Elicia in his arms the way he had dreamed of for so long. Besides, it was better than the nightmares that awaited him every night.
"Feel better?" Elicia asked with a soft chuckle.
"I don't think I realized how much I needed that," Al admitted, still mildly embarrassed by his lack of control.
Elicia hadn't seemed to mind at all. "Well you are a little more aggressive than you used to be," she teased, her arm resting on his chest.
"I'm sorry," Al apologized. He hoped he hadn't hurt her!
"Oh don't apologize," Elicia shook her head and kissed his cheek. "You've been through a lot. I know you haven't told me everything yet, but that can wait. I want to be here for you in whatever way you need. If that means helping you forget the world for a little while…"
Al smiled. "You're the expert at that."
"I do my best," Elicia laughed, "Though we should be careful."
Al felt his face go hot. He hadn't even considered the possibility. Elicia was only forty-one. Old enough that he hadn't actually worried about more kids in a few years, but he realized maybe he should have. His baby girl was a teenager; he really wasn't in any hurry to start over! "That would be good."
"Calm down, Alphonse," Elicia shook her head in amusement. "I'm mostly teasing you. How long has it been since you laughed?"
Really laughed? Al honestly couldn't remember. There had been moments of amusement the past year, and sometimes there had been points where it was easier to laugh than cry, but just for happiness? "It's been too long," Al admitted.
It wasn't jerking awake from the nightmares in the middle of the night that bothered Ed, but the realization that he had smacked Winry in the face in his flailing. "Oh, shit! Winry, I'm sorry." Guilt flared as he watched her rub her cheek.
"It's all right," Winry sighed. She didn't look angry, just disgruntled at having been woken up.
"No it's not," Ed insisted, turning on the light and blinking as he took a look at her cheek, which was already bruising. "That's going to leave a mark."
"Probably." Winry squinted in the light then went to roll over. "It's not a big deal. Go back to sleep, Edward."
"People are going to think I beat you," Ed sighed. "Are you sure you're okay? I can get a compress for it or something…"
Apparently all he was succeeding in doing was irritating his wife. "Sleep, Ed."
"But what if it happens again?" He couldn't leave it there. He hadn't meant to hit her! It had been so long since he had shared a bed, he hadn't even considered that his nightly flailing might be a problem.
"Then I hit you back and we call it even."
"But-"
Winry turned again and looked at him with an imminent-patience sigh that Ed was sure every mother in the world had perfected. "If it bothers you so much, why don't you just move to the guest room for tonight? The bed's made up in there too."
So he was being kicked out of bed. It was probably for the best. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Winry more than he already had. "All right," he agreed. He crawled out of bed, turned off the light again so she could sleep, and went across the hall.
The guest bed felt even stranger. Ed had passed out on the couch downstairs before. Yet in all the years they had lived here, the last time he had slept in this particular room was when Aldon would get sick as a kid and have trouble sleeping. To say it felt strange would have been an understatement.
Still, a bed was a bed and he couldn't hurt Winry this way if he woke up again. At least he hadn't hit her with the auto-mail arm. That would have been the ultimate insult.
It took Ed a lot longer to fall asleep the second time. His mind was awake, and it refused to let him rest peacefully. Guilt was the primary agitator, but mostly he just couldn't stop thinking about the same things that had plagued him for months. Ed had come home, but he hadn't left the war behind.
Author's Note: And we come to the end of Elrics' direct involvement in the Aerugo War. More stories coming!