Title: Idiots
Day/Theme: May 12 / The queens and the court jesters
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Winry, Ed, hints of Winry/Ed
A/N: So, this is an old piece that I wrote so long ago…D: I'm embarrassed to look at it.
Summary: Ed is an idiot, in all the ways that matter.
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He's an idiot, she decides as he lies there impatiently. His arm is already off, put aside as she tries her latest creation.
A complete idiot. One who doesn't care about how worried others get. He doesn't call or write letters, merely lets days pass into weeks turn into months. She won't hear word about him or his health and then he appears, down the lane, Al carrying him slightly as he limps to the door. It's only then that she knows he's alive.
He always comes back when he needs something, she decides as she attaches the new frame. When he needs repairs or to remember, he appears. It's never just to visit, never for something important.
She's only skin deep with them now.
They go off on their missions, carrying their wounds like badges of honour. They bury them deep; keep them quiet and secret and locked away. As well as she thinks she knows them, she can't lessen those burdens.
She can only wait to put them back together when they fall.
Her fingers nimbly piece together her new frame, attaching everything at the stump that used to be his arm. He doesn't complain, as usual, even as the nerves are reconnected.
She balances her screwdriver between two fingers as she takes in her new model. It's lighter, stronger, and maybe it can last longer than the usual month.
"Winry," Ed pauses, turns to look away when she glances at him curiously. Al makes an encouraging noise behind him and that only makes him more nervous. "Well, it's been a while since we've all met and…" Another pause and now it comes out in a rush. "Do you want to go shopping or something?"
Al silently cheers behind her. She doesn't know if it's his idea or if it's Ed's.
"What?"
"I asked if you want to buy something!" he snaps, glaring at the wall across from him.
She can almost laugh at his discomfort. It's a bruise to his ego to have to wait so long for an answer, to have to ask twice.
Still, he's offering. They haven't spent time together longer than a few hours during the past year. Normally he breezes in and out, unable to stay still for longer than a moment.
"Well, there is something," and there is a gleam in her eyes that makes him look nervous once more.
"Not too exp…" he grimaces, before changing his sentence. "We can get it, whatever it is."
She almost smiles at this, whistling lightly as she tightens the last screws.
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