FMA Fic: "Devotion" Part 18/?
Title: Devotion
Author: evil_little_dog
Summary: The cold stone seemed to freeze all the feeling in her fingertips but she couldn’t stop herself from tracing the letters.
Disclaimer: I am not Hiromu Arakawa. I just play her on TV.
Rating: Adult.
A.N.: Futurefic. Mangaverse. Everything up to at least chapter 76 is fair game. Spoilers may be included.
A.N. 2: Much thanks to cornerofmadness for the attaboys and edits and suggestions and also to lyrangalia for loving this story and wanting more of it.
A.N. 3: Previous chapters can be found at Archive of Our Own.
Chapter 18 One Year, Six and a Half Months
* * *
Their arrival in Rush Valley went pretty much unnoticed. After all, people came from all over the country to Rush Valley, to either purchase or repair automail, become an automail mechanic or engineer, learn automail surgery, visit their extended family of hard-working, hard-playing mechanics, or just scout the mecca of automail.
As the Curtises, Ed and she debarked the train car, Winry took a deep breath, inhaling the air that carried with it the taste of the red dust coating everything, the combined scents of metal being smelted or shaped and the oils used to keep automail in tip-top shape and the funk of men and women crammed in close together, sweating in all the pursuits of the day. It was a wonder Rush Valley didn’t stink, wasn’t more littered, but there was a pride in the inhabitants of the valley, and despite the signs displaying new and improved styles of automail, of mechanics hawking their works, of people always on the move with flyers and handouts and walking signs, there was very little actual trash. Her heart swelled for an instant at the sight of her home.
“I hate this place.”
Ed’s disgusted voice barely squelched her pride in her adopted community, though he did take some of the joy out of her return. “Well, you won’t be here very long,” Winry told him. “Just long enough for me to get your measurements, then you can go on further south.” Dublith was another few hours away on the train line. Winry shuddered mentally at the idea of traveling there via horse or wagon, though she knew it could be done, and had been done, even recently by some diehards who’d rather avoid the railways entirely. “Come on, my shop’s this way.”
She led the way through the crowded, narrow streets. No cars came through Rush Valley. Except for the streets around the taverns, the roads weren’t built for anything larger than a small horse cart to go through. Bars tended to be closer to the train station anyway, easier for the alcohol and foodstuffs to be transported over short distances. Mechanics who recognized her called out greetings, and Winry glanced over her shoulder after each hello to check on Ed. Since he was with her, it seemed to be a charm to keep the ‘hyenas’ at bay.
Making a mental note to stop and grab food from the grocery, Winry knew the food in her ice box and her cabinets needed to be replaced. She didn’t know when she’d be able to make time to do it; that was the problem. She knew just how far behind she was in her orders, and the leg Ed needed would suck up more of her time. Mentally lost in juggling orders with this new commitment to finish Ed’s automail kept Winry busy until she reached the stoop of her shop, unlocking the door and ushering the Curtises and Ed inside. Sig had to duck a little to get through the door.
“This is a noisy place,” Izumi said with a smile that let Winry know she didn’t mind it, it was simply a comment.
“You ought to hear it during a festival.” Winry spread her hands. “Come on in. Ed, I’ll need you in there.” She nodded at an open door.
“I’m not a piece of luggage,” Ed snarled as Sig carried him into the examination room where Winry worked with her customers. Most of her hand tools were there, everything needed for taking measurements to adjusting the tightness of an anchor bolt, and Winry had made it as comfortable as it could be, under the circumstances.
Winry gave Sig an understanding smile before heading on through the shop to drop off her luggage. Paninya had been through recently, if the green plants in the window were any indication, a few of the midwinter cactuses still blooming.
When she returned, Ed stood on one leg next to the exam table, reminding Winry of a cat that’d been dunked in water. He was ruffled up from being carried; something that had to disturb him since he’d always made a point of being able to walk, no matter what. His eyes were still glassy from all the sleeping he’d done on the train car. His rest had relieved Winry despite the weight of his head against her shoulder for most of the trip. She ignored the flutter in her stomach at one particular memory, when Ed had shifted his weight, curling even more closely against her during the night, his fingers tightening around her hip and his breath dipping down the collar of her dress to caress her upper breast. Then he’d shifted and hit her with his cast, leaving behind a bruise the size of one of Granny’s antique gold one hundred cenz pieces. “Okay,” she said, thinking her voice sounded chirpy as a spring songbird, “I’m going to take your measurements, Ed, so you know what that means.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted, and turned so his butt rested against the tabletop, beginning to work the button of his pants. He hesitated, shooting the Curtises a look. “Are you gonna stand here and watch me strip?”
Izumi snorted. “It isn’t like I haven’t seen it before, Ed.”
“I usually do these with just my customer,” Winry said, giving the couple a nod to let them know it was okay for them to leave the room. She was stronger than she looked, and could help Ed get onto the bed if he needed it. “While you’re getting undressed, Ed, I’ll show them the kitchen, okay?” Without waiting for his answer, Winry left the exam room, closing the door behind her. “Come on, it’s down this hall.”
Wishing she had more food than the not-quite-too-hard-to-eat-yet bread, and the only slightly moldy cheese in the ice box, Winry pointed out the coffee and tea to the Curtises. “This will take a little while,” she said, “so make yourselves at home.”
“We could go get you some food, if you want,” Izumi offered.
Her first thought was to decline but, “That might not be such a bad idea,” Winry found herself saying. “Especially since the next train won’t be through until late. I’ve got room here.” She gestured toward the hallway. “You should just spend the night.”
Izumi and Sig glanced at each other. “If it won’t be too much of an imposition,” Sig said.
“No, of course not.” Winry smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I get tired of riding the train after a while. I just want to walk and not have to rely on someone else moving me along.”
“Well, if that’s the way you feel, we’ll be happy to stay. Where do you suggest we go shopping?” Izumi cocked her head. “You’re okay with it, too, right, honey?”
Sig nodded once. “It might be good for Ed to stay still for a little while.”
“I’m not sure how still he’ll stay once he gets a loaner leg,” Winry said, mentally rolling her eyes at the idea. Drawing a map to the marketplace, she handed the Curtises some cenz and her key.
When she tried to explain about how they needed to haggle with Chien, the Xingese man who had the best produce, Sig held up his hand. “We know how to do this, Winry. You just take care of Ed.”
“I can do that.” Nodding at Sig, Winry made her way back to the exam room, taking a second outside the door to catch her breath. Even that little walk seemed to make her feel like she’d run a kilometer. Nerves,, she scolded herself. Her heart rate increased as she knocked on the door to let Ed know she was coming in.
“Yeah,” Ed said, and she opened the door. He had taken off his clothes except for his underwear, a pair of boxers Winry had bought for him. Ed hadn’t wasted his time in her exam room, finding an exam robe he’d slipped on, since he wasn’t wearing his usual two layers of clothing: a pair of close-fitting underwear and the comfortable, light blue shorts he’d worn when she’d needed to take his measurements or work on his automail in the past. Ed watched as she collected her measuring tapes, a pencil and pad from drawers. His gaze made her skin prickle as she washed her hands in the sink, drying them on a fresh towel from the shelf. Winry rubbed her hands together to warm them before heading to the exam table and her customer - Ed - looking at him. How long had it been since they’d actually looked each other in the eye, she wondered, seeing a wary mistrust in his?
“Once I get your measurements done,” she said, still in that chirpy voice, “I want to check over your arm and make sure it’s in good shape. After that, I’ll install a loaner leg for you, and you’ll be ready.” Gesturing at the table, Winry said, “Lie down, so I can flex your leg.”
“I need to pee,” Ed said bluntly. “No one asked me,” he added as Winry’s eyebrows shot up - he wasn’t usually quite so vocal about his bodily needs. “And I drank that orange stuff on the train.” This sounded a little more like Ed, not quite babbling in embarrassment, but at least it was there. “So before you start pushing and shoving on my body, I need to pee.”
“Okay, yeah.” Winry rubbed her forehead sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about it.” She offered him her arm and Ed hesitated long enough she felt like there was something wrong before he accepted it, using it to keep his balance as he slid off the table. Winry let him get his balance while Ed flung his arm around her shoulder, bopping her with the cast.
“Sorry,” Ed muttered as she slid her arm around his waist. When they were kids, they’d moved around like this pretty easily, but that had been years ago; and now, it took a bit before remembered rhythms fell into place.
Winry helped him down the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, the room was rigged up with handholds and bars for her customers’ use, and Ed would be all right. Waiting in the hall for him, her arms folded, thoughts churned through her head. Putting off the news she wasn’t going directly to Dublith had been a mistake, Winry knew it, and even now, she wished she could open her mouth and just tell Ed, but shouting something like that through a bathroom door had to be the worst idea of all. This was something she needed to do face to face.
Except Winry could see he was hurting. It was easy to read pain in someone, especially someone like Ed, who didn’t hide it nearly as well as he thought he did. He was too expressive; he wore his heart on his sleeve, and even though this was physical rather than emotional pain, everything Ed did all but shouted out his agony. The sudden sweats and his swinging moods indicated he was still suffering from withdrawal in some way, even if Dr. Englehardt had agreed to allow him to leave the hospital. Winry hadn’t done any research into how long it would take for Ed to get over it; she’d been too busy taking care of him to even consider it, but now, she wished she’d asked someone for more information. The doctor had thought it best if Ed had transferred to a facility to help him conquer his addiction, but no one had agreed to that idea, least of all Ed.
“I hope you didn’t protest just so you could come out of the hospital and try to kill yourself, Ed,” Winry murmured.
The bathroom door opened and Ed reached for her shoulder. His mood seemed to have changed from prickly to quiet now, and Winry offered him support to get him back to the exam room. After she finished the measurements, she told herself, she’d tell him about her plans. About needing to take care of her other customers, too. And Ed would understand; at least, she hoped he would.
Ed hopped along with her, his expression distant. Dark circles rode the skin under his eyes, along with a couple of lingering marks on his face from the last fight that hadn’t quite faded yet. If she looked, Winry knew she’d find marks on his inner arm from the medications that had dripped into his body during his time in the hospital. He squirmed free from her to get onto the table by himself and Winry let him, pleased he was strong enough to do so.
“All right,” he grumbled, “let’s get this over with.”
“You’re so impatient.” Winry gave him a sidelong glance. “You know this is going to take time. And remember, while I’ve got you here, I want to look at your arm.”
Eyes narrowing, Ed’s upper lip twitched. “But you did at the hospital already.”
“And now I’ve got all my equipment,” Winry said, gesturing toward the tools lining the tables. “You should be thankful I’m taking all this time, Ed, considering the orders I still have to do for my other customers.” She laid her hand on his shoulder, adding a little pressure. “Lie down. Let me do my work.” Pulling the arm rest out from under the table and locking it in place, she patted it for emphasis.
Ed exhaled through his teeth but lay down, wriggling a bit to get comfortable. Winry pulled a rolling tool table close enough to use for her work. Choosing a screwdriver, she set it in the crosspieces of a screw, breaking it free from Ed’s shoulder plate. “So, you haven’t been this far south in a while.” He gave her a look of disbelief, making Winry grin sheepishly. “Okay, that was a pretty stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” His face went lax as he stared up at the ceiling again. After a few minutes of silence, Ed spoke up. “It’s hotter than I remember.”
“If you start feeling uncomfortable, let me know.” Winry glanced over the opened automail to Ed, catching sight of a faint sheen of sweat on his upper chest and forehead. Knowing how unlikely it would be for Ed to say anything, she set aside her tools and ran cool water over a cloth, wringing it out and folding it to put in on his forehead.
He shivered slightly, then lay still again. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want anything to drink?” When Ed shook his head ‘no’, Winry picked up her tools again, investigating the inner workings of the forearm and wrist. She hadn’t completed her maintenance in the winter when she’d seen Ed, and that had helped to land him in the hospital Now, she was going to make sure he was in full working order before sending him on to Dublith.
For his part, Ed let her tinker on his arm without comment. Only the barest flinches indicated he felt anything, and it seemed he’d gone off into his own world while she worked. That was fine with Winry, though when she noticed him shivering again, she went to get a blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ed?” she asked, draping the fabric over him, surprised when he clutched at it with his flesh fingers.
“Y-yeah,” he muttered through chattering teeth. “Just wanna get my leg and dressed!”
“I can wait on your measurements,” Winry said, earning a glare from Ed at the suggestion. “Try moving your fingers.”
Brow still furrowed, Ed curled each one separately before straightening them and making a fist. The fluid movement reassured Winry, who ran him through a couple more tests of the arm and its movement before turning her attention on his leg. Before she took measurements, Winry worked on relaxing Ed’s muscles, knowing if they were tight, it would throw off her numbers. She almost missed the flicker of his gaze on her breasts as his knee rested between them, and she put pressure on the leg to stretch and warm the muscles.
“Ed.”
“What?” He jerked his eyes up, the faintest hint of a flush coloring his cheeks.
Winry smiled in response. “Nothing.” If Ed wanted to look, well, maybe he was better than she thought he was. She manipulated his leg and hip joint to make sure his body was warmed up. Ed’s heart rate increased slightly, the blood flowing faster through his leg. His perspiration dampened her hands, making his skin slick, but Winry was used to working with customers who sweated while she worked with them.
Measuring was an exacting, onerous task. Winry always took her time at it. If she made a mistake, the resulting limb she created would have to be redone, and her customer would be forced to wait that much longer for a correct fit. The idea of making anyone wait for freedom - the type of freedom a good piece of automail could provide - was inconceivable to her. Ed, of course, had remained one of her best customers up until Al had died.
Her hands fumbled on the tape as she thought about Ed, and Al, and what had happened since his death. Winry inhaled deeply and caught hold of the tape, wrapping it snugly around Ed’s thigh. She glanced up, but his gaze was off to the side, not watching her. The tension in his jaw told her he wasn’t as relaxed as he might appear to be. “Hey,” Winry said. “Do you need a break?”
Ed blinked a couple of times, his attention focusing on her. “No. I want…I want this over with, Winry.”
“I know. There’re not too many more measurements to take, and then I can fit you with a loaner leg.” Winry wrapped the tape around Ed’s ankle, writing notations down, then measured the length, arch, and width of his foot and largest toe. “All right.” Winry leaned back, rolling the tape up in preparation to putting it away. “You can get dressed now.”
“How long will it take for you to get it finished?”
“I’ve got a few other pieces I need to make.” Winry turned back to Ed, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her coveralls, hoping he wouldn’t make it harder than it already was. “I’m behind right now, but I think I can get your leg done within the next ten days.”
“But I can get a loaner now?” Ed glanced at her as he sat up, swinging his leg over the edge of the table.
“Mm. Let me get it.” Winry picked up her notepad, carrying it with her into her shop where she kept the loaner legs. She did have one that was a close fit for the length of Ed’s leg, though he’d still limp. Even after she completed the adjustments to this loaner, it would still be almost three centimeters off the length of Ed’s flesh leg. Carrying it back to the exam room, she found Ed still on the bed, his flesh leg swinging slightly. His skin looked pale, and Winry thought he probably needed to lie down without her poking and prodding at him. “Here.” She fitted the loaner into the port. “Remember, this won’t move the same way as your automail. It’s not as responsive!” The scolding note sounded familiar, and she smiled faintly at the scowl Ed gave her.
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” That didn’t mean Ed didn’t accept her help to hop off the table, or cling to her shoulder to keep his balance. He balanced on his flesh leg, then shifted his weight so it rested on both limbs. A smile slowly built on his face. “Wow. That’s…thanks, Winry.”
“Now, you just had surgery. Don’t go doing something stupid.” Winry wagged a finger at him. “You probably ought to go and rest until it’s time to eat.”
Ed took a couple of tottering steps. “Ten days to my real leg?” His balance was better than Winry expected, considering how long he’d been off of two feet.
“Yeah. I’ve got other customers, remember? I need to catch up their work before I do your leg.” She watched as Ed tested the restrictions in the loaner. “And tomorrow, you and the Curtises are going on to Dublith, so I can finish working.”
That finally got Ed’s actual attention, and he turned so fast, he nearly fell. “What? I’m not staying here?”
Winry grabbed his arms to keep him steady. “No, Ed,” she said with a slow shake of her head. “You’re going with the Curtises. I won’t…I need the time to finish the work I need to do, then I’ll bring your new leg to Dublith.”
“Why?” Ed’s stubborn streak showed itself in the jut of his jaw.
Why? Winry rubbed his upper arms. “Because you need to go there, so I can work.”
“I don’t want to go.” The glitter in his eyes let her know she should’ve told him this earlier - a lot earlier. “I want to stay here with you.” Ed’s hands swept up, grabbing hold of her elbows. “Winry.”
“Look, Ed, it’s better if you go south with Izumi and Sig. They can help you while I’m working. You’d be bored here, and it’s hot, and you hate Rush Valley. You’ve said that how many times?” Winry tried to tease Ed gently, but he was shaking his head.
“No, I want to stay with you,” he said. “Don’t send me away, Winry.”
“I’m not, Ed.” Winry cupped his cheeks, thinking his skin felt hot. “I’m not going to be able to take care of you while I’m working, that’s all. Izumi and Sig can.” She rubbed his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. “Okay? You understand that, right?”
Reluctant, Ed ducked his head in a half-nod. “Okay,” he mumbled, his hands falling away from her arms. “Okay, Winry.” He shuffled in a circle, making his way out of the room. “I’m gonna go lie down,” Ed said. “Like you said.”
“Hey, Ed?”
He stopped, glancing at her over his shoulder.
“Your room is the one at the end of the hall, all right?” Winry waved her hand to indicate.
“Okay,” Ed nodded.
Winry watched as Ed disappeared down the hall. Letting out a soft sigh, she went to get her plans, so she could start working on Miss Culbertson’s leg.
X X X
The long, low growl of thunder caught Ed’s attention, and he rolled onto his side, staring at the curtained windows. A blue flash of light exploded under the fabric, brightening that little area of his room. Spring storms weren’t uncommon back in Rezembool, but Ed didn’t know what they were like in Rush Valley. He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed though not dropping them to the floor. If Izumi or Sig woke up, he’d have to endure someone talking to him, or mothering him, or asking him how he was, did he want to talk.
Ed set his feet softly down on the rug next to the bed, his flesh toes appreciative of the barrier between them and the wooden floor. Goose pimples marched across his arms and shoulders, making Ed reach for the button-down shirt on the end of the bed. Shrugging it over the a-line shirt he wore to sleep in, he got up and tottered over to the window. He moved aside the curtain to watch the storm roll in.
The line of clouds almost cut the sky in half, sweeping across the sky from out of the west. Lighting crackled along that knife blade edge, illuminating it from within. The clouds boiled in shades of grey and soot and coal, taking over the night sky like an approaching army. Ed shook his head, trying to clear it of the images he saw in the clouds, turning away from the window when it was too much to bear.
The clouds reminded him too much of the Promised Day; of Truth’s hall and those creepy, oily arms that dragged him through the doors. He couldn’t look at the clouds any more, not without remembering what Al looked like, sitting in that hall, nothing but bones and skin stretched tight over them, and huge, staring eyes. Ed jerked at the shirt, pulling it even more closely around him. He needed something to blot out the memories the storm brought with it.
Before, Josie would be able to give him something to take his mind off of his memories; her offers included sex or booze or drugs. Once in a while, she’d hold him close, letting him listen to the sound of the blood moving through her body. Ed walked away from the window, starting slightly at the sight of someone else in the corner of his eye - Al? - but it was his reflection in the mirror, nothing more. Throat aching, Ed pulled open the door to the room, peering into the hall.
No one was there, and he hobbled along, remembering to mind the way he walked to keep the loaner leg from making too much noise. Winry might be working, but Izumi and Sig could have become light sleepers since he’d last stayed with them. Making his way down the hall, Ed found himself in the kitchen. The ice box beckoned, and he peered inside of it, not seeing anything of interest there. He licked his dry lips. Why couldn’t Winry have something to drink? Closing the door, Ed wandered around the building, hearing noises within Winry’s workshop. He stopped for a few seconds outside the entrance, listening to the familiar grinding sounds. Realizing his hand reached up to knock, Ed frowned, making it drop back down. Winry didn’t need him bothering her. She made that pretty clear, since she was going to stay here in Rush Valley, while he had to go on to Dublith.
Of course Winry wouldn’t want him here. She’d told him before how she felt about him being around. Ed could still feel the slap stinging his cheek and her fury as she sent him away after Al’s…after Al. Sending him on to Dublith was just more proof of the same. Hunching his shoulders, Ed made his way past the doorway, exploring the rest of the shop. There were chairs in a waiting room, one that had a window looking out onto the street. When Ed peered outside, he could see the first raindrops hitting the street. He could almost taste the moist dust rising from the road.
The telephone on the counter beckoned him, and Ed reached for it, nearly knocking it to the floor. Fumbling the receiver in his shaking hands, Ed managed to keep hold of it rather than letting it fall. His hands trembled as he dialed.
The operator came on, a dark, unfamiliar voice, and Ed asked that he be connected to the number at his apartment. He heard the repeated clicks and buzzes as the call transferred from Rush Valley back to Central City. The connection made, Ed listened as the telephone rang, counting five, then ten, then fifteen, then twenty rings. The operator came back on the line. “Do you me to try again?” he asked.
Ed searched around, spotting a calendar on the wall. Realizing he didn’t know what the day was, he mumbled, “N-no,” and made sure to replace the receiver carefully rather than to slam it down in its cradle.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room. Ed remembered alchemy transformations, his brother’s eyes, and clenched his hands into fists. His servos whined as he punched the wall, thunder drowning out the sound of his strike. The shock reverberated through his arm, thrumming up through the port and into his bones. Ed hissed through his teeth, shaking his hand, the vibration still humming through the automail. What the fuck had he done to himself? He couldn’t remember any time he’d had this much trouble with it. Growling under his breath, Ed looked around the waiting area, not seeing anything that would help him. He stumped on into the next room, lightning brightening the walls for a split second, bathing everything in electric blue and white, showing him what he needed.
A slow, bitter smile curled Ed’s mouth as he drew near to the glass cabinet. Jiggling the handle let him know it was locked, and he knew Winry had to have the key. The jade and amber bottles mocked him through the glass, but Ed knew how to handle them. Raising his hands, he touched his palms together deliberately, the transmutation circle flaring in his mind like the ignition of the lightning outside. He touched the glass, watching as it thinned and opened into hole big enough for him to reach through.
The first bottle was nothing but aspirin, and Ed put it back on the shelf with a sneer of disgust. The second bottle, amber, over half-full of liquid, was more in line with what he was looking for, and the one beyond it, the pills inside of it nearly filling it a third of the way. Ed took both of them, stumbling back into the waiting room with his prizes. Before he could open the bottles, a sound sliced through the low grumble of thunder.
A train whistle.
The unfamiliar feeling around his mouth made Ed realize he was smiling. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time, but it wasn’t like he needed to take much with him. His bag was still packed, and anything else he needed he could get either on the way or in Central City.
Carrying the bottles with him, Ed made his way back to his room as quickly and as quietly as he could. He dragged on a pair of pants, having trouble with the loaner leg and its inflexibility, and only putting on his right shoe, since the left one wouldn’t fit over the paddle that represented the foot. Tugging at his shirt, he figured he’d button it on the way to the station, and tucked the bottles into his pants pocket. The soft ‘clack’ of glass against metal reminded him where his watch was, and Ed knew he was ready to go.
The window was screened, but quicker to go out of than the doors with their bells on them to alert Winry to any customers who might come. Ed closed the window but was shaking too much to put the screen back into the frame. Lightning illuminated Rush Valley, making it look blue and strange, emphasizing the sharp corners and casting shadows. Ed ignored them to take his bearings at the first intersection, and began hop-running toward the train station.
The rain started falling in earnest before he was halfway to the station. The cold water drenched him, making it harder for him to move, but Ed forced his pace. Mud sucked at the loaner foot, the moisture already getting into the joints of the wood, making it that much harder to move. The curb caught him by surprise, seeming to leap up and smack into the wooden foot, sending him crashing to the sidewalk. The rain drenched him as he lay there, stunned, then Ed shook his head, his wet hair whipping against his cheeks. “Damn it!” He couldn’t catch his breath but made himself sit up, using the suitcase as an aid to get to his feet again. Lightning flashed, thunder following right on its heels. Ed shuddered, his arm throbbing in its cast, his knee so sore, it felt like a railroad spike hammering through it with each bend. It didn’t matter. He needed to get to the train station. Clenching his teeth, Ed increased his pace, ignoring the pain wracking his body.
“Why are you running away, Brother?”
“Shut up, Al,” he growled, nearly braining himself with the cast when he tried to shove his wet bangs out of his eyes.
“This is a bad idea. You should go back to Winry and the Curtises.”
Shouting, “I’m not going back there!” Ed turned a snarl toward his brother - no, Al was dead. “I’m not listening to you!”
“I’m trying to help you, you idiot. You know this isn’t the way to get better.”
Ed swore as his flesh foot landed in a puddle, his shoe flooding. “I don’t care about getting better, Al.” Just ahead, he could see the lights that marked the train station. “Shut up and leave me alone!” Breaking into a lopsided jog that jostled every aching bone in his body, Ed managed to climb the stairs to the station by gritting his teeth and swearing under his breath.
The train still sat in the station, tenders cleaning out the ashes from the engine, others loading water, wood and coal to keep the train moving. A few porters unloaded metal plate from freight cars. The engineer oiled the wheels and checked the mechanics. Ed scanned the length of the train, relieved to see a few passenger cars up at the front of the line near the engine. Thumping his way across the platform to the clerk’s window, Ed dragged his State Alchemist watch out of his pocket. “I need a ticket to Central City,” he said, starting to feel the weight of his cold clothes sticking to his skin. Shivering, Ed wiped his nose with his fingertips. “Is the train running on time?”
The old man behind the counter bobbed his head. “Yessir, it is.” He passed a ticket through the window. “Leavin’ us a li’l early, ain’cha?”
“Huh?” Ed frowned, his mouth twisting.
“Yer leg.” He leaned over the counter, peering through the window grate. “S’loaner, ain’t it?”
Ed’s scowl deepened as he looked down at the wooden leg. “It’s okay,” he said, curt, just wanting the old man to mind his own business. “I’m fine!”
“Don’t hafta be so rude,” the clerk scolded before slamming the window down.
Waving an obscene gesture at the closed window, Ed hobbled to the closest passenger car. His broken arm ached from carrying the suitcase, his stump feeling like a mallet pounded on it. It hurt worse mounting the steps onto the car, but Ed ignored the burning and pounding sensations to reach a vacant seat. Drowsy passengers paid him no mind, some of them managing to sleep through all the noise of the station. Sighing deeply, Ed all but fell into his seat, tucking his ticket into the breast pocket of his sopping shirt.
Tight wires seemed to wrap around his body as he set the suitcase on the floor next to his feet. Trembling fingers slipped into the pocket of his pants and Ed pulled out the laudanum, screwing the lid off the bottle. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching.
“Don’t do it, Brother.”
“Shut up, Al,” Ed said, lifting the bottle to his mouth and taking a sip. The bitter taste coated his tongue, making him shudder. “I’m not listening to you any more.”
Outside the passenger car window, the storm raged on.
X X X
Author: evil_little_dog
Summary: The cold stone seemed to freeze all the feeling in her fingertips but she couldn’t stop herself from tracing the letters.
Disclaimer: I am not Hiromu Arakawa. I just play her on TV.
Rating: Adult.
A.N.: Futurefic. Mangaverse. Everything up to at least chapter 76 is fair game. Spoilers may be included.
A.N. 2: Much thanks to cornerofmadness for the attaboys and edits and suggestions and also to lyrangalia for loving this story and wanting more of it.
A.N. 3: Previous chapters can be found at Archive of Our Own.
Chapter 18 One Year, Six and a Half Months
* * *
Their arrival in Rush Valley went pretty much unnoticed. After all, people came from all over the country to Rush Valley, to either purchase or repair automail, become an automail mechanic or engineer, learn automail surgery, visit their extended family of hard-working, hard-playing mechanics, or just scout the mecca of automail.
As the Curtises, Ed and she debarked the train car, Winry took a deep breath, inhaling the air that carried with it the taste of the red dust coating everything, the combined scents of metal being smelted or shaped and the oils used to keep automail in tip-top shape and the funk of men and women crammed in close together, sweating in all the pursuits of the day. It was a wonder Rush Valley didn’t stink, wasn’t more littered, but there was a pride in the inhabitants of the valley, and despite the signs displaying new and improved styles of automail, of mechanics hawking their works, of people always on the move with flyers and handouts and walking signs, there was very little actual trash. Her heart swelled for an instant at the sight of her home.
“I hate this place.”
Ed’s disgusted voice barely squelched her pride in her adopted community, though he did take some of the joy out of her return. “Well, you won’t be here very long,” Winry told him. “Just long enough for me to get your measurements, then you can go on further south.” Dublith was another few hours away on the train line. Winry shuddered mentally at the idea of traveling there via horse or wagon, though she knew it could be done, and had been done, even recently by some diehards who’d rather avoid the railways entirely. “Come on, my shop’s this way.”
She led the way through the crowded, narrow streets. No cars came through Rush Valley. Except for the streets around the taverns, the roads weren’t built for anything larger than a small horse cart to go through. Bars tended to be closer to the train station anyway, easier for the alcohol and foodstuffs to be transported over short distances. Mechanics who recognized her called out greetings, and Winry glanced over her shoulder after each hello to check on Ed. Since he was with her, it seemed to be a charm to keep the ‘hyenas’ at bay.
Making a mental note to stop and grab food from the grocery, Winry knew the food in her ice box and her cabinets needed to be replaced. She didn’t know when she’d be able to make time to do it; that was the problem. She knew just how far behind she was in her orders, and the leg Ed needed would suck up more of her time. Mentally lost in juggling orders with this new commitment to finish Ed’s automail kept Winry busy until she reached the stoop of her shop, unlocking the door and ushering the Curtises and Ed inside. Sig had to duck a little to get through the door.
“This is a noisy place,” Izumi said with a smile that let Winry know she didn’t mind it, it was simply a comment.
“You ought to hear it during a festival.” Winry spread her hands. “Come on in. Ed, I’ll need you in there.” She nodded at an open door.
“I’m not a piece of luggage,” Ed snarled as Sig carried him into the examination room where Winry worked with her customers. Most of her hand tools were there, everything needed for taking measurements to adjusting the tightness of an anchor bolt, and Winry had made it as comfortable as it could be, under the circumstances.
Winry gave Sig an understanding smile before heading on through the shop to drop off her luggage. Paninya had been through recently, if the green plants in the window were any indication, a few of the midwinter cactuses still blooming.
When she returned, Ed stood on one leg next to the exam table, reminding Winry of a cat that’d been dunked in water. He was ruffled up from being carried; something that had to disturb him since he’d always made a point of being able to walk, no matter what. His eyes were still glassy from all the sleeping he’d done on the train car. His rest had relieved Winry despite the weight of his head against her shoulder for most of the trip. She ignored the flutter in her stomach at one particular memory, when Ed had shifted his weight, curling even more closely against her during the night, his fingers tightening around her hip and his breath dipping down the collar of her dress to caress her upper breast. Then he’d shifted and hit her with his cast, leaving behind a bruise the size of one of Granny’s antique gold one hundred cenz pieces. “Okay,” she said, thinking her voice sounded chirpy as a spring songbird, “I’m going to take your measurements, Ed, so you know what that means.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted, and turned so his butt rested against the tabletop, beginning to work the button of his pants. He hesitated, shooting the Curtises a look. “Are you gonna stand here and watch me strip?”
Izumi snorted. “It isn’t like I haven’t seen it before, Ed.”
“I usually do these with just my customer,” Winry said, giving the couple a nod to let them know it was okay for them to leave the room. She was stronger than she looked, and could help Ed get onto the bed if he needed it. “While you’re getting undressed, Ed, I’ll show them the kitchen, okay?” Without waiting for his answer, Winry left the exam room, closing the door behind her. “Come on, it’s down this hall.”
Wishing she had more food than the not-quite-too-hard-to-eat-yet bread, and the only slightly moldy cheese in the ice box, Winry pointed out the coffee and tea to the Curtises. “This will take a little while,” she said, “so make yourselves at home.”
“We could go get you some food, if you want,” Izumi offered.
Her first thought was to decline but, “That might not be such a bad idea,” Winry found herself saying. “Especially since the next train won’t be through until late. I’ve got room here.” She gestured toward the hallway. “You should just spend the night.”
Izumi and Sig glanced at each other. “If it won’t be too much of an imposition,” Sig said.
“No, of course not.” Winry smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I get tired of riding the train after a while. I just want to walk and not have to rely on someone else moving me along.”
“Well, if that’s the way you feel, we’ll be happy to stay. Where do you suggest we go shopping?” Izumi cocked her head. “You’re okay with it, too, right, honey?”
Sig nodded once. “It might be good for Ed to stay still for a little while.”
“I’m not sure how still he’ll stay once he gets a loaner leg,” Winry said, mentally rolling her eyes at the idea. Drawing a map to the marketplace, she handed the Curtises some cenz and her key.
When she tried to explain about how they needed to haggle with Chien, the Xingese man who had the best produce, Sig held up his hand. “We know how to do this, Winry. You just take care of Ed.”
“I can do that.” Nodding at Sig, Winry made her way back to the exam room, taking a second outside the door to catch her breath. Even that little walk seemed to make her feel like she’d run a kilometer. Nerves,, she scolded herself. Her heart rate increased as she knocked on the door to let Ed know she was coming in.
“Yeah,” Ed said, and she opened the door. He had taken off his clothes except for his underwear, a pair of boxers Winry had bought for him. Ed hadn’t wasted his time in her exam room, finding an exam robe he’d slipped on, since he wasn’t wearing his usual two layers of clothing: a pair of close-fitting underwear and the comfortable, light blue shorts he’d worn when she’d needed to take his measurements or work on his automail in the past. Ed watched as she collected her measuring tapes, a pencil and pad from drawers. His gaze made her skin prickle as she washed her hands in the sink, drying them on a fresh towel from the shelf. Winry rubbed her hands together to warm them before heading to the exam table and her customer - Ed - looking at him. How long had it been since they’d actually looked each other in the eye, she wondered, seeing a wary mistrust in his?
“Once I get your measurements done,” she said, still in that chirpy voice, “I want to check over your arm and make sure it’s in good shape. After that, I’ll install a loaner leg for you, and you’ll be ready.” Gesturing at the table, Winry said, “Lie down, so I can flex your leg.”
“I need to pee,” Ed said bluntly. “No one asked me,” he added as Winry’s eyebrows shot up - he wasn’t usually quite so vocal about his bodily needs. “And I drank that orange stuff on the train.” This sounded a little more like Ed, not quite babbling in embarrassment, but at least it was there. “So before you start pushing and shoving on my body, I need to pee.”
“Okay, yeah.” Winry rubbed her forehead sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about it.” She offered him her arm and Ed hesitated long enough she felt like there was something wrong before he accepted it, using it to keep his balance as he slid off the table. Winry let him get his balance while Ed flung his arm around her shoulder, bopping her with the cast.
“Sorry,” Ed muttered as she slid her arm around his waist. When they were kids, they’d moved around like this pretty easily, but that had been years ago; and now, it took a bit before remembered rhythms fell into place.
Winry helped him down the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, the room was rigged up with handholds and bars for her customers’ use, and Ed would be all right. Waiting in the hall for him, her arms folded, thoughts churned through her head. Putting off the news she wasn’t going directly to Dublith had been a mistake, Winry knew it, and even now, she wished she could open her mouth and just tell Ed, but shouting something like that through a bathroom door had to be the worst idea of all. This was something she needed to do face to face.
Except Winry could see he was hurting. It was easy to read pain in someone, especially someone like Ed, who didn’t hide it nearly as well as he thought he did. He was too expressive; he wore his heart on his sleeve, and even though this was physical rather than emotional pain, everything Ed did all but shouted out his agony. The sudden sweats and his swinging moods indicated he was still suffering from withdrawal in some way, even if Dr. Englehardt had agreed to allow him to leave the hospital. Winry hadn’t done any research into how long it would take for Ed to get over it; she’d been too busy taking care of him to even consider it, but now, she wished she’d asked someone for more information. The doctor had thought it best if Ed had transferred to a facility to help him conquer his addiction, but no one had agreed to that idea, least of all Ed.
“I hope you didn’t protest just so you could come out of the hospital and try to kill yourself, Ed,” Winry murmured.
The bathroom door opened and Ed reached for her shoulder. His mood seemed to have changed from prickly to quiet now, and Winry offered him support to get him back to the exam room. After she finished the measurements, she told herself, she’d tell him about her plans. About needing to take care of her other customers, too. And Ed would understand; at least, she hoped he would.
Ed hopped along with her, his expression distant. Dark circles rode the skin under his eyes, along with a couple of lingering marks on his face from the last fight that hadn’t quite faded yet. If she looked, Winry knew she’d find marks on his inner arm from the medications that had dripped into his body during his time in the hospital. He squirmed free from her to get onto the table by himself and Winry let him, pleased he was strong enough to do so.
“All right,” he grumbled, “let’s get this over with.”
“You’re so impatient.” Winry gave him a sidelong glance. “You know this is going to take time. And remember, while I’ve got you here, I want to look at your arm.”
Eyes narrowing, Ed’s upper lip twitched. “But you did at the hospital already.”
“And now I’ve got all my equipment,” Winry said, gesturing toward the tools lining the tables. “You should be thankful I’m taking all this time, Ed, considering the orders I still have to do for my other customers.” She laid her hand on his shoulder, adding a little pressure. “Lie down. Let me do my work.” Pulling the arm rest out from under the table and locking it in place, she patted it for emphasis.
Ed exhaled through his teeth but lay down, wriggling a bit to get comfortable. Winry pulled a rolling tool table close enough to use for her work. Choosing a screwdriver, she set it in the crosspieces of a screw, breaking it free from Ed’s shoulder plate. “So, you haven’t been this far south in a while.” He gave her a look of disbelief, making Winry grin sheepishly. “Okay, that was a pretty stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” His face went lax as he stared up at the ceiling again. After a few minutes of silence, Ed spoke up. “It’s hotter than I remember.”
“If you start feeling uncomfortable, let me know.” Winry glanced over the opened automail to Ed, catching sight of a faint sheen of sweat on his upper chest and forehead. Knowing how unlikely it would be for Ed to say anything, she set aside her tools and ran cool water over a cloth, wringing it out and folding it to put in on his forehead.
He shivered slightly, then lay still again. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want anything to drink?” When Ed shook his head ‘no’, Winry picked up her tools again, investigating the inner workings of the forearm and wrist. She hadn’t completed her maintenance in the winter when she’d seen Ed, and that had helped to land him in the hospital Now, she was going to make sure he was in full working order before sending him on to Dublith.
For his part, Ed let her tinker on his arm without comment. Only the barest flinches indicated he felt anything, and it seemed he’d gone off into his own world while she worked. That was fine with Winry, though when she noticed him shivering again, she went to get a blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ed?” she asked, draping the fabric over him, surprised when he clutched at it with his flesh fingers.
“Y-yeah,” he muttered through chattering teeth. “Just wanna get my leg and dressed!”
“I can wait on your measurements,” Winry said, earning a glare from Ed at the suggestion. “Try moving your fingers.”
Brow still furrowed, Ed curled each one separately before straightening them and making a fist. The fluid movement reassured Winry, who ran him through a couple more tests of the arm and its movement before turning her attention on his leg. Before she took measurements, Winry worked on relaxing Ed’s muscles, knowing if they were tight, it would throw off her numbers. She almost missed the flicker of his gaze on her breasts as his knee rested between them, and she put pressure on the leg to stretch and warm the muscles.
“Ed.”
“What?” He jerked his eyes up, the faintest hint of a flush coloring his cheeks.
Winry smiled in response. “Nothing.” If Ed wanted to look, well, maybe he was better than she thought he was. She manipulated his leg and hip joint to make sure his body was warmed up. Ed’s heart rate increased slightly, the blood flowing faster through his leg. His perspiration dampened her hands, making his skin slick, but Winry was used to working with customers who sweated while she worked with them.
Measuring was an exacting, onerous task. Winry always took her time at it. If she made a mistake, the resulting limb she created would have to be redone, and her customer would be forced to wait that much longer for a correct fit. The idea of making anyone wait for freedom - the type of freedom a good piece of automail could provide - was inconceivable to her. Ed, of course, had remained one of her best customers up until Al had died.
Her hands fumbled on the tape as she thought about Ed, and Al, and what had happened since his death. Winry inhaled deeply and caught hold of the tape, wrapping it snugly around Ed’s thigh. She glanced up, but his gaze was off to the side, not watching her. The tension in his jaw told her he wasn’t as relaxed as he might appear to be. “Hey,” Winry said. “Do you need a break?”
Ed blinked a couple of times, his attention focusing on her. “No. I want…I want this over with, Winry.”
“I know. There’re not too many more measurements to take, and then I can fit you with a loaner leg.” Winry wrapped the tape around Ed’s ankle, writing notations down, then measured the length, arch, and width of his foot and largest toe. “All right.” Winry leaned back, rolling the tape up in preparation to putting it away. “You can get dressed now.”
“How long will it take for you to get it finished?”
“I’ve got a few other pieces I need to make.” Winry turned back to Ed, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her coveralls, hoping he wouldn’t make it harder than it already was. “I’m behind right now, but I think I can get your leg done within the next ten days.”
“But I can get a loaner now?” Ed glanced at her as he sat up, swinging his leg over the edge of the table.
“Mm. Let me get it.” Winry picked up her notepad, carrying it with her into her shop where she kept the loaner legs. She did have one that was a close fit for the length of Ed’s leg, though he’d still limp. Even after she completed the adjustments to this loaner, it would still be almost three centimeters off the length of Ed’s flesh leg. Carrying it back to the exam room, she found Ed still on the bed, his flesh leg swinging slightly. His skin looked pale, and Winry thought he probably needed to lie down without her poking and prodding at him. “Here.” She fitted the loaner into the port. “Remember, this won’t move the same way as your automail. It’s not as responsive!” The scolding note sounded familiar, and she smiled faintly at the scowl Ed gave her.
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” That didn’t mean Ed didn’t accept her help to hop off the table, or cling to her shoulder to keep his balance. He balanced on his flesh leg, then shifted his weight so it rested on both limbs. A smile slowly built on his face. “Wow. That’s…thanks, Winry.”
“Now, you just had surgery. Don’t go doing something stupid.” Winry wagged a finger at him. “You probably ought to go and rest until it’s time to eat.”
Ed took a couple of tottering steps. “Ten days to my real leg?” His balance was better than Winry expected, considering how long he’d been off of two feet.
“Yeah. I’ve got other customers, remember? I need to catch up their work before I do your leg.” She watched as Ed tested the restrictions in the loaner. “And tomorrow, you and the Curtises are going on to Dublith, so I can finish working.”
That finally got Ed’s actual attention, and he turned so fast, he nearly fell. “What? I’m not staying here?”
Winry grabbed his arms to keep him steady. “No, Ed,” she said with a slow shake of her head. “You’re going with the Curtises. I won’t…I need the time to finish the work I need to do, then I’ll bring your new leg to Dublith.”
“Why?” Ed’s stubborn streak showed itself in the jut of his jaw.
Why? Winry rubbed his upper arms. “Because you need to go there, so I can work.”
“I don’t want to go.” The glitter in his eyes let her know she should’ve told him this earlier - a lot earlier. “I want to stay here with you.” Ed’s hands swept up, grabbing hold of her elbows. “Winry.”
“Look, Ed, it’s better if you go south with Izumi and Sig. They can help you while I’m working. You’d be bored here, and it’s hot, and you hate Rush Valley. You’ve said that how many times?” Winry tried to tease Ed gently, but he was shaking his head.
“No, I want to stay with you,” he said. “Don’t send me away, Winry.”
“I’m not, Ed.” Winry cupped his cheeks, thinking his skin felt hot. “I’m not going to be able to take care of you while I’m working, that’s all. Izumi and Sig can.” She rubbed his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. “Okay? You understand that, right?”
Reluctant, Ed ducked his head in a half-nod. “Okay,” he mumbled, his hands falling away from her arms. “Okay, Winry.” He shuffled in a circle, making his way out of the room. “I’m gonna go lie down,” Ed said. “Like you said.”
“Hey, Ed?”
He stopped, glancing at her over his shoulder.
“Your room is the one at the end of the hall, all right?” Winry waved her hand to indicate.
“Okay,” Ed nodded.
Winry watched as Ed disappeared down the hall. Letting out a soft sigh, she went to get her plans, so she could start working on Miss Culbertson’s leg.
X X X
The long, low growl of thunder caught Ed’s attention, and he rolled onto his side, staring at the curtained windows. A blue flash of light exploded under the fabric, brightening that little area of his room. Spring storms weren’t uncommon back in Rezembool, but Ed didn’t know what they were like in Rush Valley. He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed though not dropping them to the floor. If Izumi or Sig woke up, he’d have to endure someone talking to him, or mothering him, or asking him how he was, did he want to talk.
Ed set his feet softly down on the rug next to the bed, his flesh toes appreciative of the barrier between them and the wooden floor. Goose pimples marched across his arms and shoulders, making Ed reach for the button-down shirt on the end of the bed. Shrugging it over the a-line shirt he wore to sleep in, he got up and tottered over to the window. He moved aside the curtain to watch the storm roll in.
The line of clouds almost cut the sky in half, sweeping across the sky from out of the west. Lighting crackled along that knife blade edge, illuminating it from within. The clouds boiled in shades of grey and soot and coal, taking over the night sky like an approaching army. Ed shook his head, trying to clear it of the images he saw in the clouds, turning away from the window when it was too much to bear.
The clouds reminded him too much of the Promised Day; of Truth’s hall and those creepy, oily arms that dragged him through the doors. He couldn’t look at the clouds any more, not without remembering what Al looked like, sitting in that hall, nothing but bones and skin stretched tight over them, and huge, staring eyes. Ed jerked at the shirt, pulling it even more closely around him. He needed something to blot out the memories the storm brought with it.
Before, Josie would be able to give him something to take his mind off of his memories; her offers included sex or booze or drugs. Once in a while, she’d hold him close, letting him listen to the sound of the blood moving through her body. Ed walked away from the window, starting slightly at the sight of someone else in the corner of his eye - Al? - but it was his reflection in the mirror, nothing more. Throat aching, Ed pulled open the door to the room, peering into the hall.
No one was there, and he hobbled along, remembering to mind the way he walked to keep the loaner leg from making too much noise. Winry might be working, but Izumi and Sig could have become light sleepers since he’d last stayed with them. Making his way down the hall, Ed found himself in the kitchen. The ice box beckoned, and he peered inside of it, not seeing anything of interest there. He licked his dry lips. Why couldn’t Winry have something to drink? Closing the door, Ed wandered around the building, hearing noises within Winry’s workshop. He stopped for a few seconds outside the entrance, listening to the familiar grinding sounds. Realizing his hand reached up to knock, Ed frowned, making it drop back down. Winry didn’t need him bothering her. She made that pretty clear, since she was going to stay here in Rush Valley, while he had to go on to Dublith.
Of course Winry wouldn’t want him here. She’d told him before how she felt about him being around. Ed could still feel the slap stinging his cheek and her fury as she sent him away after Al’s…after Al. Sending him on to Dublith was just more proof of the same. Hunching his shoulders, Ed made his way past the doorway, exploring the rest of the shop. There were chairs in a waiting room, one that had a window looking out onto the street. When Ed peered outside, he could see the first raindrops hitting the street. He could almost taste the moist dust rising from the road.
The telephone on the counter beckoned him, and Ed reached for it, nearly knocking it to the floor. Fumbling the receiver in his shaking hands, Ed managed to keep hold of it rather than letting it fall. His hands trembled as he dialed.
The operator came on, a dark, unfamiliar voice, and Ed asked that he be connected to the number at his apartment. He heard the repeated clicks and buzzes as the call transferred from Rush Valley back to Central City. The connection made, Ed listened as the telephone rang, counting five, then ten, then fifteen, then twenty rings. The operator came back on the line. “Do you me to try again?” he asked.
Ed searched around, spotting a calendar on the wall. Realizing he didn’t know what the day was, he mumbled, “N-no,” and made sure to replace the receiver carefully rather than to slam it down in its cradle.
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room. Ed remembered alchemy transformations, his brother’s eyes, and clenched his hands into fists. His servos whined as he punched the wall, thunder drowning out the sound of his strike. The shock reverberated through his arm, thrumming up through the port and into his bones. Ed hissed through his teeth, shaking his hand, the vibration still humming through the automail. What the fuck had he done to himself? He couldn’t remember any time he’d had this much trouble with it. Growling under his breath, Ed looked around the waiting area, not seeing anything that would help him. He stumped on into the next room, lightning brightening the walls for a split second, bathing everything in electric blue and white, showing him what he needed.
A slow, bitter smile curled Ed’s mouth as he drew near to the glass cabinet. Jiggling the handle let him know it was locked, and he knew Winry had to have the key. The jade and amber bottles mocked him through the glass, but Ed knew how to handle them. Raising his hands, he touched his palms together deliberately, the transmutation circle flaring in his mind like the ignition of the lightning outside. He touched the glass, watching as it thinned and opened into hole big enough for him to reach through.
The first bottle was nothing but aspirin, and Ed put it back on the shelf with a sneer of disgust. The second bottle, amber, over half-full of liquid, was more in line with what he was looking for, and the one beyond it, the pills inside of it nearly filling it a third of the way. Ed took both of them, stumbling back into the waiting room with his prizes. Before he could open the bottles, a sound sliced through the low grumble of thunder.
A train whistle.
The unfamiliar feeling around his mouth made Ed realize he was smiling. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time, but it wasn’t like he needed to take much with him. His bag was still packed, and anything else he needed he could get either on the way or in Central City.
Carrying the bottles with him, Ed made his way back to his room as quickly and as quietly as he could. He dragged on a pair of pants, having trouble with the loaner leg and its inflexibility, and only putting on his right shoe, since the left one wouldn’t fit over the paddle that represented the foot. Tugging at his shirt, he figured he’d button it on the way to the station, and tucked the bottles into his pants pocket. The soft ‘clack’ of glass against metal reminded him where his watch was, and Ed knew he was ready to go.
The window was screened, but quicker to go out of than the doors with their bells on them to alert Winry to any customers who might come. Ed closed the window but was shaking too much to put the screen back into the frame. Lightning illuminated Rush Valley, making it look blue and strange, emphasizing the sharp corners and casting shadows. Ed ignored them to take his bearings at the first intersection, and began hop-running toward the train station.
The rain started falling in earnest before he was halfway to the station. The cold water drenched him, making it harder for him to move, but Ed forced his pace. Mud sucked at the loaner foot, the moisture already getting into the joints of the wood, making it that much harder to move. The curb caught him by surprise, seeming to leap up and smack into the wooden foot, sending him crashing to the sidewalk. The rain drenched him as he lay there, stunned, then Ed shook his head, his wet hair whipping against his cheeks. “Damn it!” He couldn’t catch his breath but made himself sit up, using the suitcase as an aid to get to his feet again. Lightning flashed, thunder following right on its heels. Ed shuddered, his arm throbbing in its cast, his knee so sore, it felt like a railroad spike hammering through it with each bend. It didn’t matter. He needed to get to the train station. Clenching his teeth, Ed increased his pace, ignoring the pain wracking his body.
“Why are you running away, Brother?”
“Shut up, Al,” he growled, nearly braining himself with the cast when he tried to shove his wet bangs out of his eyes.
“This is a bad idea. You should go back to Winry and the Curtises.”
Shouting, “I’m not going back there!” Ed turned a snarl toward his brother - no, Al was dead. “I’m not listening to you!”
“I’m trying to help you, you idiot. You know this isn’t the way to get better.”
Ed swore as his flesh foot landed in a puddle, his shoe flooding. “I don’t care about getting better, Al.” Just ahead, he could see the lights that marked the train station. “Shut up and leave me alone!” Breaking into a lopsided jog that jostled every aching bone in his body, Ed managed to climb the stairs to the station by gritting his teeth and swearing under his breath.
The train still sat in the station, tenders cleaning out the ashes from the engine, others loading water, wood and coal to keep the train moving. A few porters unloaded metal plate from freight cars. The engineer oiled the wheels and checked the mechanics. Ed scanned the length of the train, relieved to see a few passenger cars up at the front of the line near the engine. Thumping his way across the platform to the clerk’s window, Ed dragged his State Alchemist watch out of his pocket. “I need a ticket to Central City,” he said, starting to feel the weight of his cold clothes sticking to his skin. Shivering, Ed wiped his nose with his fingertips. “Is the train running on time?”
The old man behind the counter bobbed his head. “Yessir, it is.” He passed a ticket through the window. “Leavin’ us a li’l early, ain’cha?”
“Huh?” Ed frowned, his mouth twisting.
“Yer leg.” He leaned over the counter, peering through the window grate. “S’loaner, ain’t it?”
Ed’s scowl deepened as he looked down at the wooden leg. “It’s okay,” he said, curt, just wanting the old man to mind his own business. “I’m fine!”
“Don’t hafta be so rude,” the clerk scolded before slamming the window down.
Waving an obscene gesture at the closed window, Ed hobbled to the closest passenger car. His broken arm ached from carrying the suitcase, his stump feeling like a mallet pounded on it. It hurt worse mounting the steps onto the car, but Ed ignored the burning and pounding sensations to reach a vacant seat. Drowsy passengers paid him no mind, some of them managing to sleep through all the noise of the station. Sighing deeply, Ed all but fell into his seat, tucking his ticket into the breast pocket of his sopping shirt.
Tight wires seemed to wrap around his body as he set the suitcase on the floor next to his feet. Trembling fingers slipped into the pocket of his pants and Ed pulled out the laudanum, screwing the lid off the bottle. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching.
“Don’t do it, Brother.”
“Shut up, Al,” Ed said, lifting the bottle to his mouth and taking a sip. The bitter taste coated his tongue, making him shudder. “I’m not listening to you any more.”
Outside the passenger car window, the storm raged on.
X X X