FMA fic: "Similarities" (anyone can read)
S J Smith
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing and/or character: Ed/Winry (one-sided, at this point)
Rating: K + (? I hate ratings....)
Disclaimer: I’m writing fanfic, therefore, I’m not, okay?
Summary: Information isn’t easy to come by in Rush Valley (consider this a prequel to Clandestine).
Warnings: N/A; if you’ve read up through chapter 63 of the manga.
Written for the
4purposes Seasonal Prompt: Fall; “Dreamers with empty hands.”
* * *
Winry didn’t often imagine what it might be like, when Edward and Alphonse returned. She cared, oh, that was never the question; it was just that her own life was full of her own experiences and when she did have time to daydream, her thoughts usually turned towards automail designs and the mechanics thereof. Only when she laid her head down at night did thoughts of them cross her mind.
Even then, Winry tried not to think of Ed and Al. It was a conscious effort on her part to put them out of her mind. If she thought about them, if she allowed herself to dream, her imaginings turned to concern and Winry told herself she didn’t have time to worry about her brothers. It wasn’t as if she didn’t anyway; any news of Central or the State Alchemists was enough to catch her attention, no matter how little information passed through Rush Valley.
Her friends were always quick to share whatever they’d heard, be it gossip or newspaper articles or reports on the radio. Winry, after all, had a little of a reputation - being Pinako Rockbell’s granddaughter as well as the girl who’d helped Dominic’s daughter-in-law give birth during a thunderstorm, not to mention the mechanic for the State Alchemist known as ‘Fullmetal.’ It only stood to reason that she’d want to know any news that came up.
“You heard about,” someone would say, leaning on the counter of Mr. Garfiel’s shop and Winry would stop her work to listen, intent on the words, on the message, on what information was contained within it. Some of it was simply ridiculous; stories that had grown with the retelling, like the tales Granny told her when they were all younger. Others might have a grain of truth in them while still others made her unsure. Edward and Alphonse kept their alchemy from her. She knew they were powerful; everyone said Ed was a genius in his field and Al had to be, too, Winry knew it, but surely some things were beyond even alchemy. But these men and women who came to Rush Valley, looking for new limbs, improved body parts, some of them had been in Ishbal during the Rebellion and had fought alongside State Alchemists. Their stories rang with truth.
The visitor who came to her one morning was unexpected, a dark haired girl with sloe eyes and a stern face, dressed all in black. Winry blinked at her and blinked again, the question of her name blurted out. “Ran Fan?”
The girl’s face fell into a scowl. “Hush,” she said lowly, glancing around. “I should not even be here.”
“But you are.” Winry brought the other girl inside the shop, her sharp eyes catching on an empty sleeve. A thousand questions whirled in her head and she wanted to grab Ran Fan’s shoulders and shake her. Whatever trouble she’d been in, since Ling had been determined to follow the Elrics, it had to involve Ed and Al and worry flooded Winry like a cold autumn rain. The words jumbled in her mouth, the anxiety sharp enough to taste on her tongue.
Reading Winry’s face, Ran Fan said, “They are still alive.”
The words sent her spinning, made her reach out for support, finding it in the sturdy worktable behind her. Winry clamped her hands on it, the cool wood somehow comforting under her palms. Something tangible; something real, not a half-formed dream of horror that sometimes woke her in the night. Alive, she thought, the word almost shrilling through her brain. Her blunt fingernails scraped across the wooden surface and Winry raised her head, meeting Ran Fan’s stare.
Something in those black eyes caught and held, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, steadying Winry so she could swallow and choke back her tears and stand upright again. “And,” she said, her voice remarkably level, “you need automail.”
“Edward and Alphonse said they would recommend me a good mechanic.” Ran Fan’s expression softened for an instant as Winry started forward, her palm lifting. “Not you,” she said, “despite your obvious talents. But,” and here she actually smiled, a tiny tilting of the corners of her mouth, “I want you to recommend someone to me.”
The reasons why Ran Fan might want someone else rolled around in Winry’s mind, more questions that would remain unanswered, at least for now. “All right. I’ll recommend a mechanic to you. But,” her own palm came up to forestall Ran Fan’s eagerness, “you have to tell me what happened, as much of it as you know.”
Ran Fan glanced over her shoulder then turned back with a nod. “I will. I will come to you and tell you what I know.” Her gestured was shortened, not as graceful as Winry remembered but simple surprise that Ran Fan could move as well as she did without the counterbalance of her other arm kept her from questioning when she’d find anything out. “The name, please,” and Winry gave her the name of the best automail mechanic in Rush Valley.
The Xingese girl disappeared in the same manner she appeared and Winry went back to work, knowing that Mr. Deken would be in soon for adjustments to his leg and Mr. Garfiel still wanted to look over her newest schematics, not to mention Paninya had made reservations for them to eat lunch at the new café in town. It wasn’t until later, when Winry had a chance to reflect, that she realized Ran Fan had never said when she’d be back.
“Just like Ed,” Winry muttered to her pillow, thumping it with her fist.
* * *
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing and/or character: Ed/Winry (one-sided, at this point)
Rating: K + (? I hate ratings....)
Disclaimer: I’m writing fanfic, therefore, I’m not, okay?
Summary: Information isn’t easy to come by in Rush Valley (consider this a prequel to Clandestine).
Warnings: N/A; if you’ve read up through chapter 63 of the manga.
Written for the
4purposes Seasonal Prompt: Fall; “Dreamers with empty hands.”
* * *
Winry didn’t often imagine what it might be like, when Edward and Alphonse returned. She cared, oh, that was never the question; it was just that her own life was full of her own experiences and when she did have time to daydream, her thoughts usually turned towards automail designs and the mechanics thereof. Only when she laid her head down at night did thoughts of them cross her mind.
Even then, Winry tried not to think of Ed and Al. It was a conscious effort on her part to put them out of her mind. If she thought about them, if she allowed herself to dream, her imaginings turned to concern and Winry told herself she didn’t have time to worry about her brothers. It wasn’t as if she didn’t anyway; any news of Central or the State Alchemists was enough to catch her attention, no matter how little information passed through Rush Valley.
Her friends were always quick to share whatever they’d heard, be it gossip or newspaper articles or reports on the radio. Winry, after all, had a little of a reputation - being Pinako Rockbell’s granddaughter as well as the girl who’d helped Dominic’s daughter-in-law give birth during a thunderstorm, not to mention the mechanic for the State Alchemist known as ‘Fullmetal.’ It only stood to reason that she’d want to know any news that came up.
“You heard about,” someone would say, leaning on the counter of Mr. Garfiel’s shop and Winry would stop her work to listen, intent on the words, on the message, on what information was contained within it. Some of it was simply ridiculous; stories that had grown with the retelling, like the tales Granny told her when they were all younger. Others might have a grain of truth in them while still others made her unsure. Edward and Alphonse kept their alchemy from her. She knew they were powerful; everyone said Ed was a genius in his field and Al had to be, too, Winry knew it, but surely some things were beyond even alchemy. But these men and women who came to Rush Valley, looking for new limbs, improved body parts, some of them had been in Ishbal during the Rebellion and had fought alongside State Alchemists. Their stories rang with truth.
The visitor who came to her one morning was unexpected, a dark haired girl with sloe eyes and a stern face, dressed all in black. Winry blinked at her and blinked again, the question of her name blurted out. “Ran Fan?”
The girl’s face fell into a scowl. “Hush,” she said lowly, glancing around. “I should not even be here.”
“But you are.” Winry brought the other girl inside the shop, her sharp eyes catching on an empty sleeve. A thousand questions whirled in her head and she wanted to grab Ran Fan’s shoulders and shake her. Whatever trouble she’d been in, since Ling had been determined to follow the Elrics, it had to involve Ed and Al and worry flooded Winry like a cold autumn rain. The words jumbled in her mouth, the anxiety sharp enough to taste on her tongue.
Reading Winry’s face, Ran Fan said, “They are still alive.”
The words sent her spinning, made her reach out for support, finding it in the sturdy worktable behind her. Winry clamped her hands on it, the cool wood somehow comforting under her palms. Something tangible; something real, not a half-formed dream of horror that sometimes woke her in the night. Alive, she thought, the word almost shrilling through her brain. Her blunt fingernails scraped across the wooden surface and Winry raised her head, meeting Ran Fan’s stare.
Something in those black eyes caught and held, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, steadying Winry so she could swallow and choke back her tears and stand upright again. “And,” she said, her voice remarkably level, “you need automail.”
“Edward and Alphonse said they would recommend me a good mechanic.” Ran Fan’s expression softened for an instant as Winry started forward, her palm lifting. “Not you,” she said, “despite your obvious talents. But,” and here she actually smiled, a tiny tilting of the corners of her mouth, “I want you to recommend someone to me.”
The reasons why Ran Fan might want someone else rolled around in Winry’s mind, more questions that would remain unanswered, at least for now. “All right. I’ll recommend a mechanic to you. But,” her own palm came up to forestall Ran Fan’s eagerness, “you have to tell me what happened, as much of it as you know.”
Ran Fan glanced over her shoulder then turned back with a nod. “I will. I will come to you and tell you what I know.” Her gestured was shortened, not as graceful as Winry remembered but simple surprise that Ran Fan could move as well as she did without the counterbalance of her other arm kept her from questioning when she’d find anything out. “The name, please,” and Winry gave her the name of the best automail mechanic in Rush Valley.
The Xingese girl disappeared in the same manner she appeared and Winry went back to work, knowing that Mr. Deken would be in soon for adjustments to his leg and Mr. Garfiel still wanted to look over her newest schematics, not to mention Paninya had made reservations for them to eat lunch at the new café in town. It wasn’t until later, when Winry had a chance to reflect, that she realized Ran Fan had never said when she’d be back.
“Just like Ed,” Winry muttered to her pillow, thumping it with her fist.
* * *