A/N: Yes, another piece of angsty FMA stream-of-thought writing.
Why? Because I was given a prompt. And the lack of a surplus of good Pandora Hearts fanfiction made me sad. But not sad enough to write some PH- no plotbunnies there yet...

Disclaimer: [Insert funny, witty comment here] I don't own FMA. Sad? I am too.

PROMPT: Clock (not a watch) in the living room. Theme: Sunday. Given by Auto-Alchemechanicist.
Sorry, Auto-san. I'm not sure you wanted angst, but... the happy-family-joy version failed.

Dedicated to Auto-Alchemechanicist. :)


The rasping sound her pen made on her paper was oddly unbearable.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Went the grandfather clock.

Winry watched the pendulum swing back and forth. Her reflection in the glass was twisted by the movement of the tool of the measure of time.

Or was she just twisted by time?

Never mind.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

{Edward was}

What was she supposed to say? Kind, loving, caring, smart, good husband, good father, good alchemist?

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Just words on a paper.

{the most wonderful}

What? Was someone knocking on the door?
No. Just her imagination.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Went the grandfather clock.

No, no. Focus, focus. Now, now.

Everything comes in pairs. Opposites attract.
Tcartta setisoppo. Sriap ni semoc gnithyreve.

{person I}

Those were opposites too, weren't they? No identity, identity. Why was she expressing Ed in opposites?

No, she wasn't.

Was she?

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

This was stupid

She couldn't put Edward down as words.

He wasn't words. He was flesh and blood, brain and metal and heart.

{have ever known.}

There. One sentence done. Winry looked again at the letter, sent by someone whose life could be put down as teeny-tiny words.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Went the grandfather clock.

{He was the}

He. Ed? He? Ed-he-ed-he-edhewas.
Yes, Edward was.
No, Edward had been.

Huh? Winry shook her head, clearing the dust out of her brain. Dust that had collected in the corners of her mind, dulling it to a sobbing, shaking, sadsadsad mass of sodden words.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Because Edward wasn't words, so she should be.

But no, she wasn't words. Was she? It would make sense. W-I-N-R-Y, S-A-R-A, R-O-C-K-B-E-L-L, E-L-R-I-C was four words.

But she was Ed's, not the words'.
But she didn't belong to the words, only her mind did.
But what else as there to her?

Her heart.

But...

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Went the grandfather clock.

... Her heart now lay in a coffin.

Oh yes, she was supposed to be writing down the words. So why was she crying?

Because her heart had died.

{only person}

Edward was the only person. The only person she had ever loved that way. Blond hair, gold eyes, smile- only one other person had those. And it wasn't Van Hoenheim- his smile wasn't like Ed's.

So she had to keep on living for that person, right? For Trisha. Trisha Sara Elric, who needed her. Who was upstairs right now.

{I have ever}

Had she ever... had she ever what? What hadn't she done?

She had a family.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

A family, a family who grew with the passing of time, with the ticking of the grandfather clock.

A family without a father, now.

Trisha was only twelve, and already without a father. How could she grow up now?

The same way Winry had. The same way Ed had.
She could still go on.

Right?

{missed like this.}

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

{Edward cannot be}

He couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. Died- phooey.

Ed wasn't the sort of person to just go and die on his family.

Especially not on such a stupid mission.
Really, what kind of a mission was that to die on? A reconnaissance in the East.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Stupid clock- why didn't it just-

STOP!?

Oh god, he really was dead. How? Why?

Stupid terrorists, pretending to be refugees.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

But... How silly a death Ed would think it if he knew.
Did he know? Did he know he was dead? He was beyond the Gate now, and she was sure he knew.

So she'd just have to cheer up for his sake.

{put down in words.}

There. The newspaper people could put that in their silly obituary article.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

And the stupid clock was giving her a headache. It was a bright, sunny Sunday after all- why was she inside? Why was she crying, after a week and a day of mourning?

She needed to enjoy life, if only for Edward's sake.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.


Because he'd be so angry if she got to the Gate without enjoying herself first.


A/N: Wow. Once again, it turned all happy at the end.

I guess I'm just too cheerful a person...

Well, there you go. Thank you for reading! Please review!

Hope you liked it Auto-san...