Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ By Sightless Lightning ❯ Part II - Winry ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Winry was late this week; she usually came by in the morning on Wednesdays, but Wednesday came and went with no sign of her. Edward disliked this lateness, although he wasn't truly dependent on her to make sure the two of them were fed. It was a disruption of habit.

Around midafternoon, Alphonse began to pick up on Edward's unease, and when Edward put him outside to watch the sunset Alphonse refused to sit quietly. Fidgeting, he tried to stand up when Edward moved to go back into the house and, because he was agitated, tripped immediately.

"Don't you want to sit outside tonight?" Edward asked as he helped Alphonse stand, while the wind made the trees by the creek chatter at each other. When Edward chanced to look that direction, he could see that the leaves were silver in the murky dusk; it was looking like this day had more to hand him before it departed. The only reply he received was the soft touch of fingers picking at his shirt.

He tried once more to leave Alphonse on the porch, and when that failed he simply moved his brother back into the house with the sun still on the lip of the sky. Alphonse quieted as soon as he was back indoors, but when he was told to sit in the chair by the fire he instead sank to the floor. After a little thought, Edward left him there, staring at the fire, and sat in the armchair beside the hearth to moodily do the same thing.

"If Winry doesn't show tomorrow ..." he murmured, but didn't finish the thought aloud. There would be no choice but to venture beyond the property line to find out what had happened to her. The idea was not appealing; there was no direct way to Winry's home aside from straight through town, and he was less than eager to enter Risenbourg. Really, he ought to go over there tonight, this moment - she could be laying injured somewhere, after all - but what would he do with Alphonse? Leaving Alphonse alone in the dark was just unacceptable, even if it might conceivably be easier if his brother were sleeping.

There was a way to Winry's home without going through town, but it meant hiking through some uncut timberland and fording the river. Absolutely impossible with Alphonse in tow, not that taking the road there with Alphonse would be any quicker, or much easier. Edward thought it pretty certain that he would have to leave his brother here. There was a lot in that to annoy him, and his frown deepened the more he thought about it.

His glance fell down on his brother then, who was no longer looking at the fire but sitting on the hardwood floor in the firelight with his arm extended and two fingers, index and middle, extended also. The tips of those fingers traced a curved line on the floor, a third of a circle centered on himself. Edward felt his frown twisting a little, and forced a smile instead.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked, as gently as he could.

Alphonse looked over his shoulder and there was nothing but innocence in his slate-green eyes. There was a moment when Edward wanted to reach down and slap his brother's hands, yell at him to never ever do that again and smudge the line of the undrawn circle; he mastered the urge with difficulty. He even managed to avoid saying, "I wish you wouldn't do that," but only at the cost of a strangled little noise.

At the sound, Alphonse laid a hand on Edward's ankle, then his head on Edward's knee like a faithful dog. Edward did have to make an objection then.

"Come on, sit up Al. Don't look at me that way."

Alphonse didn't respond right away, but at a second prompting and a nudge he pulled himself up by Edward's knee and crawled halfway into Edward's lap. The chair was really too small to hold them both, so Alphonse kept his legs on the floor in order to burrow his face into Edward's shoulder.

"No," said Edward, stroking his brother's head. "It's okay. I'm not mad." He was probably reading too much into the gesture his brother had been making at the floor, anyway. His own ill-mood surfacing at what was probably just an innocent nothing, traced because arcs were easy to trace. He ran his fingers through that fine, rough-cropped hair, and the sensation was a memory of when they'd been young and whole, and alchemy had seemed benign.

He didn't know what made him turn to kiss his brother; Alphonse wasn't crying, and although he seemed to want reassurance, soft kisses on his temple and cheek probably weren't what he'd been after. The kisses were not scorned, however, and it took only a moment for Alphonse to raise his head so that Edward could reach his lips. A little squirming was all it took to put Alphonse on a level where he could be secure in Edward's arms. And to persuade Alphonse to open his mouth, all Edward had to do was probe gently with his tongue.

It was all so easy.

Edward's left hand slid under his brother's shirt, caressing velvet-smooth skin, while his unfeeling right held Alphonse close. He didn't know why he was doing this - Alphonse had given no indication that he wanted any sort of sexual contact until the first kisses - but it felt like something he ought to do. Or maybe just something he wanted to do. Maybe something he needed to do.

Soft panting against his cheek accompanied Alphonse's arms going around him. When his brother brought one knee up onto the chair to improve his balance, Edward could feel Alphonse's erection. That taste, that whatever-it-was that flavored his brother's mouth, had already signaled, and Edward's body had responded.

Way too easy. Edward kissed back toward Alphonse's ear, and was suddenly ashamed. Gentle hands pulled at his shirt, and may or may not find their way beneath to touch him, but that sense of wrongness, that I-should-not-be-doing-this feeling had finally arrived. It was strong this time, and momentarily nauseating.

Wet, messy kisses landed wherever Alphonse could touch mouth to skin, artless and heedless. When Edward paused, trying not to understand what he'd done this time, Alphonse squirmed and nipped his cheek. It was too late for second thoughts now; Alphonse was aroused, and there was no way for Edward to undo what he'd done in an instant of wanting comfort from his brother.

"I'm sorry." Surprising Alphonse with a strong, sudden hug, Edward whispered again, "I'm sorry, Al." It was not clear whether or not Alphonse understood.

With a little persuasion, Edward got his brother to slide off the chair and kneel again on the floor. Edward went down with him, and kissed him there while Alphonse again attempted to tug off his elder's black shirt. When it became clear that this was going to take Alphonse a long time to manage, if ever, Edward pulled it off over his head and let his brother touch him. Soft fingers moved across his chest, followed by Alphonse's soft grey gaze.

"I'm sorry," said Edward again, and those shadowed eyes lifted to Edward's. There was no comprehension there, that Edward could see.

He smiled a little, although it felt like something very unlike a smile, and carefully unbuttoned his brother's shirt so he could mark those perfect shoulders with his tongue. The warmth radiating from the hearth lay like a physical touch against Edward's skin as he raked his teeth over Alphonse's neck to elicit quiet little trembling gasps. His brother's hands were on him, arms around him, and guilt moved like a cold lead serpent in his belly and somehow did nothing to lessen his own arousal.

Warmed automail ran over Alphonse's back as Edward unfastened his brother's pants and tugged them down enough to touch the erection inside; the foreskin was damp and tacky with sweat, but it moved smoothly enough. Alphonse tilted his head back and moaned, arms falling away from Edward's body, and he possibly would have canted over if Edward hadn't been holding him up. Edward turned him, nudging and tugging until Alphonse turned sideways to lean against his inflexible metal shoulder, hip against Edward's groin and legs sprawled out over one of his. Eyes closed, Alphonse made no motion to help or hinder, but only lay against Edward like a heavy doll, accepting what was given.

"Ahh," sighed Alphonse, as he gently came. He remained quietly held against Edward shoulder as Edward licked the semen off his fingers and palm.

"I'm sorry," said Edward again, and kissed his brother's temple. He was terribly hard, but told himself there would be time enough for that later. With his fingers clean, he ran them through his brother's hair, affectionate and slow, as the fire whispered to itself beside them; presently, Alphonse began to wetly mouth his neck and ear.

The window flickered white, and a moment later a bass grumble of thunder rolled over the house. "Damn," said Edward, half at the still-distant storm, and half at the way that Alphonse was not helping his erection. The clumsy, hesitant motion of teeth and tongue on his neck roughly mimicked what he'd done to Alphonse earlier, and it went straight down to his groin and was starting to make the ache there unbearable.

He hadn't been planning to pull away, disengage himself from his brother and stand up, leave him alone on the floor in front of the fire and all of its potential for dangerous mischief, and hurry into the bathroom to masturbate. But that's what he did anyway.

At least he wasn't worrying about Winry anymore.



The worry was back when he awakened, with Alphonse curled up against him and rain hammering against the window. The thunder and lightning had expended themselves during the night, and now all that remained of the storm was a steady, gray downpour. It looked cold and, when Edward rose and put his hand against the window, felt cold.

With Alphonse asleep, it was easy to pretend that things had gone a different way. That he would call his brother's name, and Alphonse would throw a pillow at him and say, Let me sleep, Nii-san, and when Edward persisted in waking him he'd suggest that Nii-san go make some damned breakfast and he'd be down when it was done. Or maybe Edward would go shake him by the shoulder, and Alphonse would give him a sleepy, animal glare before grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him back down into bed. Then Alphonse would kiss him and ...

Edward cut that line of thinking right off. "Al," he said, and he did go over to shake his brother by the shoulder. When Alphonse finally started to wake, however, the smile he had for Edward was vague and unfocused. Edward got him up out of bed, bathed and dressed, downstairs and fed, and all the while he was looking uneasily out the window at the misty curtain of rain.

The rain continued until almost noon, and by the time it let up there was still no Winry. Edward eyed the lane nervously through the window as the rain pattered out and left the world damp and cold and clean. Behind him, Alphonse sat in one of the living room chairs, with one arm extended and his fingers spread, staring at the back of his hand. Every now and then, he'd move his arm around in stiff, awkward circles, tracking the motion with his eyes.

"I'm going to have to go see what happened to her," said Edward. He looked toward Alphonse, who ignored him in favor of the fascination of his own hand. "Do you think you can stay out of trouble for a couple of hours?" Alphonse continued to ignore him. "No, of course not. Damn." Short of tying his brother to the chair, there was no way to ensure Alphonse wouldn't go wandering, and trip up the steps or get into the coals. Edward briefly toyed with the idea of doing just that, but dismissed it a moment later. If there was a room in the house with a lock on it, that would certainly help, but the front door didn't even have a lock.

Eventually he did the best he could, by clearing the hot ashes out of the fireplace and tossing them out the back door and into a puddle, which hissed angrily at the treatment, and putting a sectioned apple on the floor near Alphonse. It was too much to hope that his brother would remain in one place for the couple of hours it would take to hike out to Winry's and back, but Edward didn't know what else to do.

Alphonse watched with interest as Edward put on his underjacket and stamped on his boots, but when he saw the red coat come out of the closet an expression of indefinite unhappiness clouded his eyes. Edward didn't even get completely out the door before Alphonse was trying to get up.

"Al," he said, coming back inside, but not in time to catch his brother; Alphonse managed to take three steps before crashing down onto his knees. "Shit. Why are you trying to move around now?" Scarlet fabric wadded up in Alphonse's clutching fingers as Edward transferred his brother to the couch. It must have hurt like hell to land hard on his knees like that, but Alphonse didn't seem to care.

"Stay here, now," said Edward. "Okay? I won't be gone long, I promise." He smoothed Alphonse's hair back and smiled for him, then kissed him on the forehead. Alphonse quieted, but as soon as Edward opened the front door he made a wordless, anguished sound and was trying once again to stand.

Fuck. "No. You can't come with me. I'm not leaving you, okay? I'm not going anywhere, I'm just checking on Winry." Words alone would not do; Alphonse managed to get upright again, and Edward was close enough this time to catch him when he inevitably tripped. The grip on his sleeves was stronger, and couldn't be gently pried loose even when Edward had his brother down on the couch again.

Crouching at Alphonse's feet, held by the sleeves, Edward just rested his forehead on his brother's knee and despaired.

"This is unbelievable. This is unbelievable. I just cannot believe this."

As if in reply, Alphonse tugged hard on his coat sleeves, and leaned down to rest his cheek against Edward's hair.

A little sun came out then, slanting in through the window behind the couch. A cloud soon came and covered it, but before long the sun was back. Edward watched it come and go, and wanted to rip something apart. Alphonse would not release him, tightening his grip whenever Edward tried to pull away.

He was finally saved by the sound of horse whinnying from just out front, and a loud, bold knock on the door that startled both brothers even with the warning.

Sick with hopeful relief, Edward raised his head and yelled, "Door's open."

"Sorry I'm late! I brought a ..." The bright grin that Winry brought into the house with her faded into a baffled scowl when she saw Edward on the floor. "What are you doing down there?"

"Trying not to break Al's fingers." Hoping that he didn't look utterly pathetic, and fearing that he did, Edward asked, "Could you, y'know, help me get loose here?"

Winry didn't even bother to close the door; the air that swirled in was cool and wet, and smelled musty. "Hi there, Al!" she said brightly. "Why don't let go of Ed? I don't know why you want him, he's not good for much anyway." With a sharp yank in the correct spot, she slipped Edward's right sleeve out of Alphonse's grasp.

"Thanks. That means a lot to me."

"Don't whine." She did the same for his left sleeve, although this one took a bit longer, and Alphonse was starting to twitch unhappily. "It's okay, Al. I'm not taking him away from you. Damn, Ed, what'd you do to him?"

"Nothing! I was just about to go look for your dead body by the side of the road, and he didn't like me leaving." Freed, Edward hopped up onto the couch, with the idea that he should make sure his brother understood that he wasn't going anywhere now. Alphonse grabbed his hand and leaned against his shoulder, and Edward let him.

Winry was giving him a strange look. "What makes you think I'd be laying dead by the side of the road?"

"You weren't here, for one."

She just shook her head, and walked out the door.

"Winry!" If she was leaving again ...

But she wasn't. She reappeared in the doorway with a couple of boxes, carrying things in from her wagon. "No, stay there," she said, when Edward would have tried to get up to help her bring things in. "It's not like I need a man to come get his own junk into the house." She carried the boxes into the kitchen, and Edward heard her exclaim, "Edward Elric, you are hopeless!" Doubtless, she had just spotted the mess in there.

"What took you so long, anyway?" he asked, when she came striding back through the house to fetch more things.

In answer, she threw something flat and rectangular at him. He caught it with his free hand as it hit him in the chest, and he looked it over while she was getting more things to bring in.

"A catalogue?"

"I thought you might want to look it over," she said as she passed through. "In case there's anything you wanted to order from it before winter starts." Then she was gone into the kitchen again.

"You made me worry over a catalogue?"

She came back out and shut the door, giving it a hard shove to make sure it was latched. "If you had a phone, I could have called to let you know I'd be late. I was waiting for it to come in the mail, and you know we get our mail on Wednesdays on the other side of town."

"If I had a phone, Mustang could call me too." Alphonse was starting to take an interest in the pictures in the catalogue, sketched outlines of men and women wearing the advertised clothing, or using the advertised farming implements, so Edward tilted it to let him see. "What exactly is in here that you think I'd be interested in, anyway?"

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. I'm sure there's nothing in there you can't get in Central, but since you're here and not in Central, I figured you might want to take a look at it." She made no move to sit down, or go elsewhere in the house, and seemed to be content to just stand in the foyer with one hand on her hip. "You really should get a phone. What if you fell down the stairs and broke your leg?"

Edward eyed her.

She made a face. "I mean it. If something happened to you, you'd have no way of letting anybody know!"

"Nothing's going to happen to me, don't be so dramatic. What did you bring this for anyway?" He shook the catalogue at her.

"I told you. If you're going to stay the winter, you might need some more stuff than what you have now." Winry came over to take the catalogue out of Edward's hand; Alphonse looked up toward her when she did, and confusion briefly crossed his face.

"I'm not so sure we'll be here all winter." It was hard to admit.

Winry was paging through the catalogue now and didn't look at him. "Why not? Are they calling you back?"

"Not yet." Alphonse was holding Edward more loosely now, and he attempted to get his hand free. "It's just a matter of time, though."

The page-flipping ceased, and when Edward looked up he found Winry giving him a peculiar sort of glare. "It would be pretty rotten of them to expect you to work with Al in this kind of condition."

"Yeah, but I don't think consideration is very high on the list in the big military book of priorities." Edward knew that Winry hated pretty much everything there was to the military, and that this statement would not endear it to her any further. She'd asked him to quit a couple of times, not understanding that it was just simply not that easy. He forced a cheerfulness that he did not feel and patted his brother on the knee. "It'll be okay. I'm sure Al will be better by the time I have to go back."

The peculiar look was still being leveled at him. "Ed," said Winry in a low tone, and it sounded like the beginning of something, but if it was she didn't go any further with it. After a moment she shrugged and tossed the catalogue back at him. "I'm going to go clean your kitchen, you lazy bastard."

Alphonse struggled to his feet immediately when Edward suggested that he stand, and together they followed Winry. She was already clearing off the table when they got there, dropping dishes into the sink and trash into the bucket by the back door. "Sit here, Al," he said.

"Start unpacking that box," said Winry. The box turned out to contain mostly canned vegetables, each mason jar topped with a cheerful little piece of plaid fabric; Edward wondered who had done that as he pushed the jars one by one into a cupboard.

After a bit of silent cleaning, Winry continued, "I don't know. I don't live with him and you do. Maybe he's getting better and I just can't see it, but ..."

Edward interrupted her. "He is."

A bit more silence. "Has he said anything yet?"

"No." When Edward looked, Alphonse was watching him closely. "Sometimes I think he wants to, though. Like all he needs to do is remember how."

Winry had never told him to stop. Edward knew that sometimes she wished she had; sometimes he wished somebody had, when he was selfish enough to shunt responsibility off onto the world for not stopping him. Just quit while you're ahead, was something Winry had never said, and Edward would have been angry if she'd done it. How could he have been ahead when Alphonse was just a voice and cold steel?

She'd never said it, so she was spared the effort of trying not to say that she'd told him so. Edward heard it nevertheless, in the punctuated silence that followed.