Porch Swing
Title: Swaying from Side to Side
Rating: PG-13 (just because of Ed’s potty mouth)
Setting: Pre-series, spoilers to chapter 80, Post-series as well
Summary: Winry will always remember the Elrics’ porch swing- it is a part of her just as much as the brothers themselves.
Winry remembers the old porch swing, how it would take you so high that when you jumped off you were soaring instead of falling. The three of them played on it for hours until they heard both Trisha and Pinako calling them inside. Sometimes Trisha would help push, her height allowing them to go higher than normal, all laughs and giggles as they shot past the stars (into the universe, past Jupiter and Mars).
After Trisha- or Mom for Ed and Al- died, they no longer played on it. They might sit on it and sway back and forth from time to time, but never again would they explore new worlds in space. It just wouldn’t be the same.
*
Hohenheim asks about it one day while they are helping rebuild Lior. It’s such a casual remark, merely made to fill up the silence while he’s holding the supports as she screws them in place. They’ve spent a lot of time together the past few days, since Lior needed a proper mechanic to make sure everything fit smoothly and Hohenheim was strong enough to keep most wobbling structures in place. Winry has little memories of him, seeing as how most of the traumatic moments in her life (Den stumbling and slipping in her blood on three legs, Mom and Dad rotting away in some desert, Al screaming for someone to help Ed but no one can help him since he’s trapped in an empty shell) so for the most part it feels like talking to a stranger.
Her hand slips and she curses as the wrench hits her foot. Hohenheim’s concerned, and startled, “Are you alright?” brings her back to the present. He picks up her wrench and cautiously hands it to her, watching her as one would watch an unruly fire (sparks leaping everywhere and crackling and cackling with wicked delight as they burns down their house and she can’t stop crying, because that house was a part of her as well) while trying to determine the cause of her unease.
Winry does not know what to tell him. Should she repeat Ed’s harsh words, of how he said it was “the only thing he was grateful to the bastard for”, or tell about how Al used to ask Ed if Dad would ever come home so Mom could swing with them for once.
Instead she simply smiles, and pretends the tears in the corners of her eyes are from the pain in her foot, and says, “Of course I remember the porch swing. We all loved it.”
Winry chooses to ignore the hitch in Hohenheim’s breath and instead swallows around the lump in her own throat.
*
It’s a hot summer day, and Al is busy enjoying a nice nap in the sun with his real body, so Ed is grumbling about how hot it is and saying things like- “Oh god, why is Risembool like fucking or furnace” or “I’m pretty sure that even Hell is cooler than here”- but Winry just rolls her eyes and continues with her work.
Eventually Ed bores of complaining (which is really impossible, Winry thinks) and comes over to investigate. Which mostly just consists of, “What the hell are you doing up in that goddamn tree?”
“The Nelson’s hired me to build a swing for them”, she says while looping the first piece of rope around the sturdy branch she’s sitting on. Winry concentrates on how the swing will look once it’s finished over how Ed’s face darkens and his fists clench.
She continues her labor methodically, as she is mostly focused on how unbearable the silence is and how for some reason it feels like she has betrayed him (even though she knows that she didn’t want to do this and it’s not even for her, but for little Annie and George) which really just makes no sense.
The shuffling of his feet breaks past her defenses, and she doesn’t have enough time to prepare for what happens next. “Why do they suddenly want one now?”
Her body freezes, poised as if ready for flight, and her mind fumbles around for an answer before throwing out the truth. “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson remembered ours- no, yours- from when we were little and she wanted George and Annie to have one just like it.” Winry stares at her hands, and wonders if they have ever shaken this much in her life, but she already knows that the answer is yes.
Ed is silent for so long, but the “Oh, okay” that escapes is filled such emotion that Winry feels tears start to trickle down her cheeks. She finally turns to look at him and he looks at her, and they just stare at each other while the silence drags on. No words are needed; since no one knows them quite like they do, especially about stuff like this. Winry understands why Ed fingers won’t stop twitching just as he understands why she has to keep wiping her eyes. It’s one of those things that the two of them share, one of those things that confuses Al and convinces everyone that they’re crazy.
Finally Ed breaks eye contact, allowing time to one more move freely. Winry smoothes back her hair and tightens her ponytail before layering the rope again. As her hands sweep over the tree branch they touch something that most definitely is not bark. She peers down to see Ed squinting up at her.
“Can I help? I mean, it probably won’t be as good as the one we had, but I’m sure it won’t be half bad, and work will go a lot faster with two people,” he stammers, trying to hold back all his emotions, keep them from bursting out.
She grins at him, bursting with something that she cannot identify, and holds out her hand. Ed smiles, shy but full of hope, before grabbing hold since he already knows the unspoken answer.
(“Of course”).
Rating: PG-13 (just because of Ed’s potty mouth)
Setting: Pre-series, spoilers to chapter 80, Post-series as well
Summary: Winry will always remember the Elrics’ porch swing- it is a part of her just as much as the brothers themselves.
Winry remembers the old porch swing, how it would take you so high that when you jumped off you were soaring instead of falling. The three of them played on it for hours until they heard both Trisha and Pinako calling them inside. Sometimes Trisha would help push, her height allowing them to go higher than normal, all laughs and giggles as they shot past the stars (into the universe, past Jupiter and Mars).
After Trisha- or Mom for Ed and Al- died, they no longer played on it. They might sit on it and sway back and forth from time to time, but never again would they explore new worlds in space. It just wouldn’t be the same.
*
Hohenheim asks about it one day while they are helping rebuild Lior. It’s such a casual remark, merely made to fill up the silence while he’s holding the supports as she screws them in place. They’ve spent a lot of time together the past few days, since Lior needed a proper mechanic to make sure everything fit smoothly and Hohenheim was strong enough to keep most wobbling structures in place. Winry has little memories of him, seeing as how most of the traumatic moments in her life (Den stumbling and slipping in her blood on three legs, Mom and Dad rotting away in some desert, Al screaming for someone to help Ed but no one can help him since he’s trapped in an empty shell) so for the most part it feels like talking to a stranger.
Her hand slips and she curses as the wrench hits her foot. Hohenheim’s concerned, and startled, “Are you alright?” brings her back to the present. He picks up her wrench and cautiously hands it to her, watching her as one would watch an unruly fire (sparks leaping everywhere and crackling and cackling with wicked delight as they burns down their house and she can’t stop crying, because that house was a part of her as well) while trying to determine the cause of her unease.
Winry does not know what to tell him. Should she repeat Ed’s harsh words, of how he said it was “the only thing he was grateful to the bastard for”, or tell about how Al used to ask Ed if Dad would ever come home so Mom could swing with them for once.
Instead she simply smiles, and pretends the tears in the corners of her eyes are from the pain in her foot, and says, “Of course I remember the porch swing. We all loved it.”
Winry chooses to ignore the hitch in Hohenheim’s breath and instead swallows around the lump in her own throat.
*
It’s a hot summer day, and Al is busy enjoying a nice nap in the sun with his real body, so Ed is grumbling about how hot it is and saying things like- “Oh god, why is Risembool like fucking or furnace” or “I’m pretty sure that even Hell is cooler than here”- but Winry just rolls her eyes and continues with her work.
Eventually Ed bores of complaining (which is really impossible, Winry thinks) and comes over to investigate. Which mostly just consists of, “What the hell are you doing up in that goddamn tree?”
“The Nelson’s hired me to build a swing for them”, she says while looping the first piece of rope around the sturdy branch she’s sitting on. Winry concentrates on how the swing will look once it’s finished over how Ed’s face darkens and his fists clench.
She continues her labor methodically, as she is mostly focused on how unbearable the silence is and how for some reason it feels like she has betrayed him (even though she knows that she didn’t want to do this and it’s not even for her, but for little Annie and George) which really just makes no sense.
The shuffling of his feet breaks past her defenses, and she doesn’t have enough time to prepare for what happens next. “Why do they suddenly want one now?”
Her body freezes, poised as if ready for flight, and her mind fumbles around for an answer before throwing out the truth. “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson remembered ours- no, yours- from when we were little and she wanted George and Annie to have one just like it.” Winry stares at her hands, and wonders if they have ever shaken this much in her life, but she already knows that the answer is yes.
Ed is silent for so long, but the “Oh, okay” that escapes is filled such emotion that Winry feels tears start to trickle down her cheeks. She finally turns to look at him and he looks at her, and they just stare at each other while the silence drags on. No words are needed; since no one knows them quite like they do, especially about stuff like this. Winry understands why Ed fingers won’t stop twitching just as he understands why she has to keep wiping her eyes. It’s one of those things that the two of them share, one of those things that confuses Al and convinces everyone that they’re crazy.
Finally Ed breaks eye contact, allowing time to one more move freely. Winry smoothes back her hair and tightens her ponytail before layering the rope again. As her hands sweep over the tree branch they touch something that most definitely is not bark. She peers down to see Ed squinting up at her.
“Can I help? I mean, it probably won’t be as good as the one we had, but I’m sure it won’t be half bad, and work will go a lot faster with two people,” he stammers, trying to hold back all his emotions, keep them from bursting out.
She grins at him, bursting with something that she cannot identify, and holds out her hand. Ed smiles, shy but full of hope, before grabbing hold since he already knows the unspoken answer.
(“Of course”).