A/N: I'M GOING TO DO IT. I've challenged myself to the 100 themes!...I'm gonna fail.

I don't own FMA, but FMA owns me.

Before Trisha died, they'd walk to school together, all sleepy and grumpy, Al walking in the middle to ensure that no fights happened between the elder two. On the days Al was sick, on those rare occasions Ed went to school without his brother, Ed and Winry would walk alone together. He would stare at the sky, worrying about his brother, and she would slip an arm through his as a silent mode of comfort.

After Trisha died, all were still sluggish and sleepy, but Ed and Al spoke in hushed tones about their great secret while Winry walked far ahead, trying to show that she didn't need her best friends.

Before Trisha died, Ed and Winry sat next to each other in every class. Ed didn't make friends easily, and the one time the teacher was foolish enough to separate them, neither were able to concentrate. Besides, they were a relatively quiet pair. Ed would help during science, and Winry would help during English. Both oftentimes had bored expressions on their faces, body language blatantly stating that they knew this already, yes, they understood, and they were only here so that the state didn't come after their parents.

After Trisha died, the silences were more profound; the help more distracted, and no matter how far Winry reached out, Ed would always pull in.

Before Trisha died, recess was their favorite subject, like so many others in their grade. The difference was that while the other students found joy in the hour spent free of books and learning, the trio treasured this time as one to run and play, as the only time in seven hours they got to spend together.

After Trisha died, Winry found recess to be her least favorite subject.

Before Trisha died, they'd come home from school together, Ed and Winry bickering about anything and everything, Al walking behind, watching everything and wondering what their children would look like.

After Trisha died, the brothers huddled together. Winry walked behind, finally unable to ignore the fact that it hurt.

Before Trisha died, they'd sit at the brothers' kitchen table and talk and laugh and eat gooey handfuls of peaches and strawberries or the batter of whatever sweet Trisha was making. Later, they'd do their homework together, Ed and Winry helping Al with whatever he didn't understand. Math would go by quickly and quietly, since it was a subject they all understood quite well. Reading and writing would be punctuated by a proclamation from Ed on how boring it was, and an defense from Winry that it most certainly was not. Al would stop writing and listen for a while, until the argument grew annoying and he was forced to throw a pen at his brother.

After Trisha died, silence was all that could be heard in the room. Then, you heard closing of books and the patter of small feet and the slamming of a door. You couldn't hear the person left in the room, struggling with her science homework. You couldn't hear her at all unless it was one of the days she cried.

Before Trisha died, they'd go out and play once their homework was completed, running and laughing and chasing and jumping till they were worn out and sat on the fence to catch their breath. Sometimes Winry would drag them back to watch the sunset, sometimes the brothers would work on their alchemy while Winry studied automail, occasionally asking them to repair a nail or turn a rusty bolt clean again. They'd laugh, Ed referring to Winry as a 'automail geek' and Winry retorting with an 'alchemy geek.' Then they'd head their separate ways, bidding each other goodnight and preparing for a repeat on the morrow.

After Trisha died, the only time she'd see them all afternoon was for dinner. She'd hole herself up in the workshop, looking at the automail and practicing and practicing. Sometimes, on the worst days, she'd walk down to the fence, watching the sunset by herself.

It was on one of those days that she found Ed in her spot.

"Edward?" she called softly, hoping not to startle him. He looked around, eyes finally resting on her, and he grinned. "Hey, Winry."

She clambered up onto the fence and balanced herself on the rough wooden beam next to Ed. "Where's Al?"

"Somewhere around. You know him, he saw a cat while we were reading and ran off to pet it." He stared at the fading sun and smiled, eyes lost.

Winry watched him, emitting a small sigh and leaning back. "What are you guys doing, anyway?"

Ed was silent for a few moments, contemplating the sky. Winry immediately regretted her words- Ed never wanted to talk about his and Al's secret project.

"You'll see." he said finally.

She was silent, too. "This has to do with your mom, doesn't it?"

Ed made a small noise of annoyance and turned his head away, body language clearly indicating that she should change the subject. But she wouldn't. Not this time. He was ten years old, he wasn't all knowing and strong, he was essentially a little boy. He had to move forward...and someone had to tell him that...

"Mom and dad died about three years ago." She said.

He looked at her. "Win-"

The sun had set, and she knew they should be getting back.

"They died at about this time, didn't they?" she commented, as casually as if she were commenting on the weather, keeping her eyes on the horizon. She clasped her hands in her lap and refused to meet his wide golden eyes.

"Winry, I-"

"It took me a while," she continued, looking anywhere but him. "To get over it."

She paused, trying to tell what his reaction was, but continued.

"I've moved forward, Ed. I miss them, I miss them and it hurts, but I get up and live every day. I try and reach out to you and Al, even though it's like I'm talking to your shells. That's all you are, Ed. And that's all you will be until you put this behind you."

She stood up, continuing to avoid his eyes. "Think about it."

The next time she sees him, he's bruised and broken and missing an arm and leg and cradled in a metal suit that's apparently Al and she's frantically doing anything she can, and he's become her first real patient and it hurts because it's him, and she doesn't know what they did or why they did it but maybe if she had done something, anything, maybe they wouldn't be like this...

What hurts even more is that months later, he uses her own words against her.

"We've got to keep moving forward."

That was when Winry Rockbell's childhood ended.