Southern Comfort [Fullmetal Alchemist | Edward/Winry + Alphonse | Teen]
Title: Southern Comfort
Author/Artist: evil_little_dog
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Takes place during 108, after Ed and Al return to Rezembool.
Prompt: Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed/Winry: role reversal - "You always took care of me. Now I need to take care of you."
Word count: 2,583
Summary: Taking care of Winry was just…difficult. Especially with Al ‘helping’.
A/N: Thanks to cornerofmadness for her edits. OP - Sorry this is late. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Arakawa won’t even talk to me about that co-opting thing, drat it.
* * *
“I can’t feel my feet!”
Alphonse giggled at Winry’s exclamation.
Edward rolled his eyes. “Because I’m carrying you, idiot - hey! Don’t swing your legs! You’re gonna hit something important!” He couldn’t exactly dodge while carrying Winry on his back.
“Eeeeeed. Ed, Ed, Ed.” Winry dug her chin into his shoulder, breathing harshly in his ear. The fumes nearly crossed his eyes.
“You stink like a distillery!” Edward shot the still giggling Alphonse a glare. “And you’re not helping, Al!”
“What do you want me to do?” Alphonse spread his hands, nearly walking off the side of the road and into a ditch. He righted himself at the last minute.
“You could’ve kept Winry from drinking everything in the bar!” Like it was Al’s fault. Those bastards took advantage of Winry’s good nature - her innocence - and kept buying her drinks. When it was time to pay up, well, Edward knew all too well what they wanted. And they sure as hell weren’t getting it from Winry. Of course, Alphonse had been doing some celebrating of his own - why the hell did he have to try everything now that he had a body back? Edward considered his little brother sampling a hangover tomorrow and figured that might be a cure in and of itself.
“She was havin’ a good time.” Alphonse hiccupped. “So was I. Then you came back.” He pouted. “Why’d we havta go home?”
“Eep!” Edward jerked, realizing Winry’s lips were on his earlobe. “Winry, stop it!” Her chuckle and wriggle against his back were really making it hard - no, not hard! Difficult! Difficult! - to concentrate. “I mean it, Winry!”
“Aw,” she mumbled breathily in his ear.
“I’ll make you walk.” He would’ve dumped her right then and there but the road was gravel and the idea of Winry picking rock out of her ass - no, not happening. He’d never hear the end of it, whether Winry remembered him dumping her or not. Edward ignored the little voice in the back of his head saying she might need help with her ass.
“Yeah, walking’s hard.” Alphonse became a living example, stumbling into the stone wall that bordered the Nedobeck pasture. “Oops.” As if his body became liquid, he puddled at the base of the fence, giggling to himself. “Brother. Hey, Brother. Ed. Ed.”
“Ed, Ed, Eeeed,” Winry chimed in happily.
“That’s it!” Stopping in the grass next to Al, Edward dropped Winry’s legs. She squeaked as she slid down his back, groaning when she hit the ground.
“Ed,” Winry whined, “tha’s not nice.” She rubbed her hip, her skirt edging higher over her thighs than it needed to.
Edward jerked his eyes away. “You’re not being nice, either,” he snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets. Yeah. That’d hide…anything. Right.
“I can be nice.” Winry pouted up at him. Beside her, Al let his head loll against the stone fence, eyes glassy even in the dim moonlight. “I’m very nice.”
Dammit, why did she have to say things like that in that tone of voice? Edward scowled and stomped his feet, trying to get his body back under control. “You’re very drunk,” he growled. “Both of you. Just sit here a few minutes and we’ll walk the rest of the way home.”
Alphonse yawned, hiccupping in the middle of it. His snicker made Winry laugh and the two of them were a sudden, liquid heap of giggles. Edward slapped his hand over his eyes, wondering if he could just leave them here to sleep it off, then decided Pinako would kill him. Better get them home, where the old woman could mock them to her heart’s content.
“Hey, Ed. Ed.” Winry grabbed his trouser leg and tugged.
Edward grabbed frantically for the waist band, trying to keep from losing his pants. “What, Winry?”
She blinked up at him, her eyes swimming. “Y’re not mad a’ me an’ Al, are you?” Oh…hell. Tears. Dammit. “We was jus’ havin’ some - hic - fun.”
Al nodded his solemn agreement, his cheek pillowed on Winry’s shoulder. “An’ you dragged us ‘way from it. You’re mean.”
“You’re both drunk and those guys,” Edward flung a hand back toward the tavern in town, “those bastards were gonna take advantage of you, Winry. I know you! You think everyone’s nice. People aren’t nice all the time, especially men! Men are bad, Winry. They just want one thing.”
Her lower lip quivered.
Somehow, Edward managed to keep his expression stern in the face of that trembling lip and those liquid eyes. “I mean it, Winry.”
She sniffled. Al wrapped his arm around her. They both stared up at Edward, who felt very much like saving them from themselves was probably the worst thing he could’ve done, right now.
No. No, it wasn’t. Edward scowled back at them, hoping that Winry didn’t actually cry. He didn’t think he could take her tears. She blinked, her eyelashes spangling. Damn, damn, damn.
Alphonse cuddled Winry closer, glaring at Edward. “Y’re mean, Brother. Y’re makin’ Winry cry.”
“No, it’s the booze making her cry!” Edward flung his hands in the air. “Gah! You two are both drunk. You’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking at all.”
“Eldred wouldn’t do anything bad.” Winry sniffed again, her mouth turned down. “He’s nice. He used to buy me candy when we were kids.”
Edward managed to count to one. “A bribe so you’d show him your panties! What did I just say? Men are bad!”
“But you an’ Al are men.” Winry snuggled against Alphonse. “An’ y’re not bad, are you?” She turned dewy eyes to Alphonse. “Are you?”
Al shook his head solemnly. “Nope.”
“See?” Winry gave him a wavering smile. “Y’re not bad.”
Edward groaned, dragging his hand down his face. This wasn’t his night. “All right, Winry, the next time you get shit faced, I’ll leave you at the Black Horse and you can drink the night away. Okay? You too, Al.” He took a deep breath. “But for now, we’re going home. Right? Get up, let’s start walking.” Offering Alphonse his hands, Edward hauled his little brother to his feet. Al swayed like a tree in a big wind, then caught himself, gifting Edward with a bleary smile. “You’re not gonna gack, are you?” Edward asked, suspicious of that grin.
“No!”
“Uh, huh.” Well, if Al did, it’d get some of the booze out of his system. “C’mon, Winry, time to go home. The old hag and Den are waiting for you.” Edward didn’t trust that wobbly headed thing Winry was doing. “Think you can walk?”
“Mm.” She didn’t make any move to grab his offered hands.
“Winry?” Oh, hell, what was with the blinky eyes? She wasn’t going to cry, was she? “Winry?” Shit.
“Eeeeeed?”
What was with her? Why the hell was she getting teary eyed now? “Winry, what’s wrong?” Edward crouched next to her, trusting Alphonse to grab hold of the wall if he started toppling.
Her mouth twisted. “Those guys were jus’ tryin’ t’cheer me up.” Winry looked away then, rubbing her eyes.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Winry didn’t need cheering up. She was the girl who cheered everyone else up. Edward couldn’t think of any reason Winry would be upset, even. Ducking her head, Winry mumbled something, the words so slurred Edward couldn’t make them out. He tilted his head, moving a bit closer. “What, Winry?”
“They said, since you didn’t wan’ me, they’d take care of me.” Blue eyes turned his way, half-hidden by a thatch of blond bangs.
“They what?” Edward sputtered. “What did I just say about men, Winry? See? That’s a perfect example!” He found himself on his feet, considering running back to the Black Horse and making the point with his fist. “Guys like that, they’re being dicks. Stirring you up and getting you to drink. You shouldn’t have listened to them. You’re smarter than that!”
“Yeah, an’ Brother does want you, Winry,” Alphonse said helpfully. “Or he sure dreams like he does.”
“Yeah - wait - what?” Edward jerked back around, horrified. Al had heard? Hell - what had he been dreaming - oh…fuck.
“You do?” Winry was on her knees, trying to get to her feet. “You dream about me, Ed? Really?” Shining eyes turned his way, a smile blooming on her face. “What kinda dreams?”
“The kind where he breathes funny and fumbles under the blanket.”
“Alphonse, you’re not being helpful,” Edward grated out.
Alphonse was obviously too far gone to pay attention to the hiss in his brother’s voice. “You oughtta hear the sounds he usta make when he used the wrong hand!”
“Al!” Edward roared, rounding on his brother. Somehow, Alphonse managed to dodge the punch - how the hell was he sober enough to do that? - sending Edward sprawling on the dew damp grass, face down in Winry’s boobs.
Time froze. Edward thought he could hear each individual cricket in the grass. The pulse of Winry’s heartbeat - or was it his own? - pounded in his ears. Her breath, flavored with whiskey, fanned across his forehead. Edward wondered if he could possibly move before he got socked upside the skull when Winry grabbed him, wrapping her arms around his head and squeezing his hips between her thighs. “I knew they were wrong!” she squealed. “I knew you liked me!”
“You gonna do it right here, Brother?” Alphonse’s voice floated somewhere around him, making Edward gnash his teeth.
Reaching back, he caught Winry’s wrists, tugging at them. “Let go, Winry!” How the hell did she get so strong? Oh, yeah. Working metal. “Gah! Winry!” He didn’t want to hurt her but damn, did she have a strong grip. And the way she was wriggling - shit! “Stop wiggling!”
“You like me! You like me!” Winry giggled her delight, her boobs moving around Edward’s face.
He bit his tongue, trying to extricate himself from her clutches without hurting her. “Winry! Leggo! Al, a little help, here?”
“Are you,” Al burped, “sure, Brother? You look….”
“Alphonse!” Edward pried one of Winry’s arms off his neck. Her legs, those were the problem. Oh, damn, were they a problem. How the hell did she get so strong in her legs? No, wait, he didn’t want to know. “C’mon, Winry. Let go! Micro-Granny’s gonna scream at us when we wake her up getting home.”
“We c’n stay here.” Winry’s limbs suddenly went lax, allowing Edward to escape. He rolled off of her as she went on, “Then she won’t yell.”
“We’re not sleeping outside like dogs.” Of course, it could make for easier clean up - no, no, he wasn’t letting his brother or Winry sleep outside. Well…maybe on the porch - no, no. Not outside! “Not when we have beds.” Edward reconsidered vomit in his bedroom. Maybe outside wasn’t such a bad idea.
“‘Kay.” Al stumbled up the road, turned in the wrong direction. “Le’s go home!”
“You go home. I stayin’ here.” Winry didn’t move from where she lay on the dew damp grass.
Edward dragged his palm down his face. “Oi. Al. Wrong way.”
Al squinted back at him. “You sure?”
“Al.” Winry whined out his name. “Our house is that way.” She pointed a wavering finger in the right direction.
Suspicious, Al folded his arms, glaring at both of them. “You sure?”
“We’re sure. Get walking.” Edward jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the Rockbell house. Without waiting to see if Al was following his order, Edward turned to Winry. “C’mon, get up. We’re going home, too.”
“But I like it here. I c’n see the stars. I’ma count ‘em.” The finger that had been pointing down the road now wagged at the sky. “Ooo, five!”
Grabbing her hand, Edward tugged at it. “Nope. Home. Now, Winry.”
She got to her feet, a disjointed mess, tipping from one side to the other, giggling the entire time. Which made Al start giggling, and Edward knew if that kept up, he’d go home and hang whatever Granny had to say about leaving them behind. “Can you get on my back, Winry? I think Al might be able to walk.” He’d stopped giggling, at least, and was staggering off in the right direction, for a change.
Winry mumbled something as Edward bent over so she could get up on his back. “Winry!” She hadn’t really said she’d rather ride something else as she climbed on, wrapping her arms around his neck? He hooked his hands under her knees, holding her in place. Why did she have to be so heavy? Oh, yeah. Muscles weighed a lot and Winry was a strong girl. Getting his balance, Edward took off after Al, ignoring Winry singing soft songs in his ear.
They made it the rest of the way home, though there’d been an iffy moment or two with Al and the bridge - “The moon’s fallen inna stream! We gotta fish it out!” - and another when walking past the Culbertson’s farm and Winry suddenly remembered they didn’t have any eggs and maybe they should stop and get some (she’d nearly tripped Edward with her wriggling). Edward wasn’t going to climb the steps with Winry on his back - knowing his luck tonight, she’d barf all over him. He set her down on the porch, helped Al climb (he kept marching in place until Winry staggered up and slapped his butt, sending Al scurrying up the three steps), then half-carried, half-directed Winry up, too.
The door was unlocked but the screen squealed and popped when Al hauled on it, setting off a whole new round of laughter. Edward wondered if he could convince his brother to sleep in the bathroom, dreading what might happen if Al started vomiting. He supposed he could move a trashcan next to the bed. And Winry…where had she gotten off to? He spun almost all the way around before catching sight of her stumbling into the family room. Well, there wasn’t much she could get in to there, and Al had slipped down the wall, knees spread wide, a goofy smile on his face. “I’z gon’ sleep here.”
“In the hallway?”
“S’not my bed?”
Hell, why not. “Sure. You just lie down and I’ll get your pillow.” Edward didn’t wait to see if Al did, going to check on Winry.
She’d collapsed on the sofa, snoring softly, her feet still on the floor. It was probably better than climbing the stairs, Edward thought, sitting down to pick up her feet and take off her shoes. Winry squirmed a little, pedaling at the sensation. “You’re a pain,” Edward told her, setting her shoes far enough away that she wouldn’t trip on them if she happened to wake up during what was left of the night. “But you always took care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you.”
A little snort was Winry’s only response.
Edward covered her with a light sheet, setting a waste can nearby in case she woke up and couldn’t get to the bathroom. Alphonse was still where he’d sprawled, head leaning back against the wall. Considering his brother’s position, Edward had no doubt Al would not only have a headache, he’d also have a terrible crick in his neck tomorrow. Edward fetched a pillow from one of the patient rooms, settling his brother down on the floor with the pillow and a basin.
With a sigh, he went back to the living room, sitting in the chair across from the sofa. From here, if either Al or Winry needed him, he’d know.
And hopefully, he wouldn’t have one of those dreams about Winry tonight.
Author/Artist: evil_little_dog
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Takes place during 108, after Ed and Al return to Rezembool.
Prompt: Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed/Winry: role reversal - "You always took care of me. Now I need to take care of you."
Word count: 2,583
Summary: Taking care of Winry was just…difficult. Especially with Al ‘helping’.
A/N: Thanks to cornerofmadness for her edits. OP - Sorry this is late. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Arakawa won’t even talk to me about that co-opting thing, drat it.
* * *
“I can’t feel my feet!”
Alphonse giggled at Winry’s exclamation.
Edward rolled his eyes. “Because I’m carrying you, idiot - hey! Don’t swing your legs! You’re gonna hit something important!” He couldn’t exactly dodge while carrying Winry on his back.
“Eeeeeed. Ed, Ed, Ed.” Winry dug her chin into his shoulder, breathing harshly in his ear. The fumes nearly crossed his eyes.
“You stink like a distillery!” Edward shot the still giggling Alphonse a glare. “And you’re not helping, Al!”
“What do you want me to do?” Alphonse spread his hands, nearly walking off the side of the road and into a ditch. He righted himself at the last minute.
“You could’ve kept Winry from drinking everything in the bar!” Like it was Al’s fault. Those bastards took advantage of Winry’s good nature - her innocence - and kept buying her drinks. When it was time to pay up, well, Edward knew all too well what they wanted. And they sure as hell weren’t getting it from Winry. Of course, Alphonse had been doing some celebrating of his own - why the hell did he have to try everything now that he had a body back? Edward considered his little brother sampling a hangover tomorrow and figured that might be a cure in and of itself.
“She was havin’ a good time.” Alphonse hiccupped. “So was I. Then you came back.” He pouted. “Why’d we havta go home?”
“Eep!” Edward jerked, realizing Winry’s lips were on his earlobe. “Winry, stop it!” Her chuckle and wriggle against his back were really making it hard - no, not hard! Difficult! Difficult! - to concentrate. “I mean it, Winry!”
“Aw,” she mumbled breathily in his ear.
“I’ll make you walk.” He would’ve dumped her right then and there but the road was gravel and the idea of Winry picking rock out of her ass - no, not happening. He’d never hear the end of it, whether Winry remembered him dumping her or not. Edward ignored the little voice in the back of his head saying she might need help with her ass.
“Yeah, walking’s hard.” Alphonse became a living example, stumbling into the stone wall that bordered the Nedobeck pasture. “Oops.” As if his body became liquid, he puddled at the base of the fence, giggling to himself. “Brother. Hey, Brother. Ed. Ed.”
“Ed, Ed, Eeeed,” Winry chimed in happily.
“That’s it!” Stopping in the grass next to Al, Edward dropped Winry’s legs. She squeaked as she slid down his back, groaning when she hit the ground.
“Ed,” Winry whined, “tha’s not nice.” She rubbed her hip, her skirt edging higher over her thighs than it needed to.
Edward jerked his eyes away. “You’re not being nice, either,” he snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets. Yeah. That’d hide…anything. Right.
“I can be nice.” Winry pouted up at him. Beside her, Al let his head loll against the stone fence, eyes glassy even in the dim moonlight. “I’m very nice.”
Dammit, why did she have to say things like that in that tone of voice? Edward scowled and stomped his feet, trying to get his body back under control. “You’re very drunk,” he growled. “Both of you. Just sit here a few minutes and we’ll walk the rest of the way home.”
Alphonse yawned, hiccupping in the middle of it. His snicker made Winry laugh and the two of them were a sudden, liquid heap of giggles. Edward slapped his hand over his eyes, wondering if he could just leave them here to sleep it off, then decided Pinako would kill him. Better get them home, where the old woman could mock them to her heart’s content.
“Hey, Ed. Ed.” Winry grabbed his trouser leg and tugged.
Edward grabbed frantically for the waist band, trying to keep from losing his pants. “What, Winry?”
She blinked up at him, her eyes swimming. “Y’re not mad a’ me an’ Al, are you?” Oh…hell. Tears. Dammit. “We was jus’ havin’ some - hic - fun.”
Al nodded his solemn agreement, his cheek pillowed on Winry’s shoulder. “An’ you dragged us ‘way from it. You’re mean.”
“You’re both drunk and those guys,” Edward flung a hand back toward the tavern in town, “those bastards were gonna take advantage of you, Winry. I know you! You think everyone’s nice. People aren’t nice all the time, especially men! Men are bad, Winry. They just want one thing.”
Her lower lip quivered.
Somehow, Edward managed to keep his expression stern in the face of that trembling lip and those liquid eyes. “I mean it, Winry.”
She sniffled. Al wrapped his arm around her. They both stared up at Edward, who felt very much like saving them from themselves was probably the worst thing he could’ve done, right now.
No. No, it wasn’t. Edward scowled back at them, hoping that Winry didn’t actually cry. He didn’t think he could take her tears. She blinked, her eyelashes spangling. Damn, damn, damn.
Alphonse cuddled Winry closer, glaring at Edward. “Y’re mean, Brother. Y’re makin’ Winry cry.”
“No, it’s the booze making her cry!” Edward flung his hands in the air. “Gah! You two are both drunk. You’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking at all.”
“Eldred wouldn’t do anything bad.” Winry sniffed again, her mouth turned down. “He’s nice. He used to buy me candy when we were kids.”
Edward managed to count to one. “A bribe so you’d show him your panties! What did I just say? Men are bad!”
“But you an’ Al are men.” Winry snuggled against Alphonse. “An’ y’re not bad, are you?” She turned dewy eyes to Alphonse. “Are you?”
Al shook his head solemnly. “Nope.”
“See?” Winry gave him a wavering smile. “Y’re not bad.”
Edward groaned, dragging his hand down his face. This wasn’t his night. “All right, Winry, the next time you get shit faced, I’ll leave you at the Black Horse and you can drink the night away. Okay? You too, Al.” He took a deep breath. “But for now, we’re going home. Right? Get up, let’s start walking.” Offering Alphonse his hands, Edward hauled his little brother to his feet. Al swayed like a tree in a big wind, then caught himself, gifting Edward with a bleary smile. “You’re not gonna gack, are you?” Edward asked, suspicious of that grin.
“No!”
“Uh, huh.” Well, if Al did, it’d get some of the booze out of his system. “C’mon, Winry, time to go home. The old hag and Den are waiting for you.” Edward didn’t trust that wobbly headed thing Winry was doing. “Think you can walk?”
“Mm.” She didn’t make any move to grab his offered hands.
“Winry?” Oh, hell, what was with the blinky eyes? She wasn’t going to cry, was she? “Winry?” Shit.
“Eeeeeed?”
What was with her? Why the hell was she getting teary eyed now? “Winry, what’s wrong?” Edward crouched next to her, trusting Alphonse to grab hold of the wall if he started toppling.
Her mouth twisted. “Those guys were jus’ tryin’ t’cheer me up.” Winry looked away then, rubbing her eyes.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Winry didn’t need cheering up. She was the girl who cheered everyone else up. Edward couldn’t think of any reason Winry would be upset, even. Ducking her head, Winry mumbled something, the words so slurred Edward couldn’t make them out. He tilted his head, moving a bit closer. “What, Winry?”
“They said, since you didn’t wan’ me, they’d take care of me.” Blue eyes turned his way, half-hidden by a thatch of blond bangs.
“They what?” Edward sputtered. “What did I just say about men, Winry? See? That’s a perfect example!” He found himself on his feet, considering running back to the Black Horse and making the point with his fist. “Guys like that, they’re being dicks. Stirring you up and getting you to drink. You shouldn’t have listened to them. You’re smarter than that!”
“Yeah, an’ Brother does want you, Winry,” Alphonse said helpfully. “Or he sure dreams like he does.”
“Yeah - wait - what?” Edward jerked back around, horrified. Al had heard? Hell - what had he been dreaming - oh…fuck.
“You do?” Winry was on her knees, trying to get to her feet. “You dream about me, Ed? Really?” Shining eyes turned his way, a smile blooming on her face. “What kinda dreams?”
“The kind where he breathes funny and fumbles under the blanket.”
“Alphonse, you’re not being helpful,” Edward grated out.
Alphonse was obviously too far gone to pay attention to the hiss in his brother’s voice. “You oughtta hear the sounds he usta make when he used the wrong hand!”
“Al!” Edward roared, rounding on his brother. Somehow, Alphonse managed to dodge the punch - how the hell was he sober enough to do that? - sending Edward sprawling on the dew damp grass, face down in Winry’s boobs.
Time froze. Edward thought he could hear each individual cricket in the grass. The pulse of Winry’s heartbeat - or was it his own? - pounded in his ears. Her breath, flavored with whiskey, fanned across his forehead. Edward wondered if he could possibly move before he got socked upside the skull when Winry grabbed him, wrapping her arms around his head and squeezing his hips between her thighs. “I knew they were wrong!” she squealed. “I knew you liked me!”
“You gonna do it right here, Brother?” Alphonse’s voice floated somewhere around him, making Edward gnash his teeth.
Reaching back, he caught Winry’s wrists, tugging at them. “Let go, Winry!” How the hell did she get so strong? Oh, yeah. Working metal. “Gah! Winry!” He didn’t want to hurt her but damn, did she have a strong grip. And the way she was wriggling - shit! “Stop wiggling!”
“You like me! You like me!” Winry giggled her delight, her boobs moving around Edward’s face.
He bit his tongue, trying to extricate himself from her clutches without hurting her. “Winry! Leggo! Al, a little help, here?”
“Are you,” Al burped, “sure, Brother? You look….”
“Alphonse!” Edward pried one of Winry’s arms off his neck. Her legs, those were the problem. Oh, damn, were they a problem. How the hell did she get so strong in her legs? No, wait, he didn’t want to know. “C’mon, Winry. Let go! Micro-Granny’s gonna scream at us when we wake her up getting home.”
“We c’n stay here.” Winry’s limbs suddenly went lax, allowing Edward to escape. He rolled off of her as she went on, “Then she won’t yell.”
“We’re not sleeping outside like dogs.” Of course, it could make for easier clean up - no, no, he wasn’t letting his brother or Winry sleep outside. Well…maybe on the porch - no, no. Not outside! “Not when we have beds.” Edward reconsidered vomit in his bedroom. Maybe outside wasn’t such a bad idea.
“‘Kay.” Al stumbled up the road, turned in the wrong direction. “Le’s go home!”
“You go home. I stayin’ here.” Winry didn’t move from where she lay on the dew damp grass.
Edward dragged his palm down his face. “Oi. Al. Wrong way.”
Al squinted back at him. “You sure?”
“Al.” Winry whined out his name. “Our house is that way.” She pointed a wavering finger in the right direction.
Suspicious, Al folded his arms, glaring at both of them. “You sure?”
“We’re sure. Get walking.” Edward jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the Rockbell house. Without waiting to see if Al was following his order, Edward turned to Winry. “C’mon, get up. We’re going home, too.”
“But I like it here. I c’n see the stars. I’ma count ‘em.” The finger that had been pointing down the road now wagged at the sky. “Ooo, five!”
Grabbing her hand, Edward tugged at it. “Nope. Home. Now, Winry.”
She got to her feet, a disjointed mess, tipping from one side to the other, giggling the entire time. Which made Al start giggling, and Edward knew if that kept up, he’d go home and hang whatever Granny had to say about leaving them behind. “Can you get on my back, Winry? I think Al might be able to walk.” He’d stopped giggling, at least, and was staggering off in the right direction, for a change.
Winry mumbled something as Edward bent over so she could get up on his back. “Winry!” She hadn’t really said she’d rather ride something else as she climbed on, wrapping her arms around his neck? He hooked his hands under her knees, holding her in place. Why did she have to be so heavy? Oh, yeah. Muscles weighed a lot and Winry was a strong girl. Getting his balance, Edward took off after Al, ignoring Winry singing soft songs in his ear.
They made it the rest of the way home, though there’d been an iffy moment or two with Al and the bridge - “The moon’s fallen inna stream! We gotta fish it out!” - and another when walking past the Culbertson’s farm and Winry suddenly remembered they didn’t have any eggs and maybe they should stop and get some (she’d nearly tripped Edward with her wriggling). Edward wasn’t going to climb the steps with Winry on his back - knowing his luck tonight, she’d barf all over him. He set her down on the porch, helped Al climb (he kept marching in place until Winry staggered up and slapped his butt, sending Al scurrying up the three steps), then half-carried, half-directed Winry up, too.
The door was unlocked but the screen squealed and popped when Al hauled on it, setting off a whole new round of laughter. Edward wondered if he could convince his brother to sleep in the bathroom, dreading what might happen if Al started vomiting. He supposed he could move a trashcan next to the bed. And Winry…where had she gotten off to? He spun almost all the way around before catching sight of her stumbling into the family room. Well, there wasn’t much she could get in to there, and Al had slipped down the wall, knees spread wide, a goofy smile on his face. “I’z gon’ sleep here.”
“In the hallway?”
“S’not my bed?”
Hell, why not. “Sure. You just lie down and I’ll get your pillow.” Edward didn’t wait to see if Al did, going to check on Winry.
She’d collapsed on the sofa, snoring softly, her feet still on the floor. It was probably better than climbing the stairs, Edward thought, sitting down to pick up her feet and take off her shoes. Winry squirmed a little, pedaling at the sensation. “You’re a pain,” Edward told her, setting her shoes far enough away that she wouldn’t trip on them if she happened to wake up during what was left of the night. “But you always took care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you.”
A little snort was Winry’s only response.
Edward covered her with a light sheet, setting a waste can nearby in case she woke up and couldn’t get to the bathroom. Alphonse was still where he’d sprawled, head leaning back against the wall. Considering his brother’s position, Edward had no doubt Al would not only have a headache, he’d also have a terrible crick in his neck tomorrow. Edward fetched a pillow from one of the patient rooms, settling his brother down on the floor with the pillow and a basin.
With a sigh, he went back to the living room, sitting in the chair across from the sofa. From here, if either Al or Winry needed him, he’d know.
And hopefully, he wouldn’t have one of those dreams about Winry tonight.