Leave A Scar

He waited for one of us to talk. Arms on his legs, hands threaded in the space between his knees. Space that I should be filling...

"So... it's not easy to start this." He brought up a hand, hanging it from his neck. Continuing to sit on the bed, eyes on the floor. "But Winry and I... we... got together about a year ago."

And then he spoke again, and I felt my lungs cave in. Collapsing to the very floor of myself.

"I loved her. I fell in love with her, over the course of so many years."

There was a smile in his voice; I couldn't deny it's presence. But the tense... The tense he was using...

"I couldn't forgive myself, if something were to happen. If I left her there alone, permanently" the word nearly broke in his throat "But I knew... If I never told her how I felt, that regret would be one of my last thoughts."

He stayed quiet, stare searching the floor beneath his feet, and I could tell he wanted to say something else. Or he was thinking about it, anyway.

"What is it?" I asked softly, forcing myself to continue watching him.

He raised a hand to his hair, eyes shutting away from me.

"I was just thinking about how she basically told me the same thing. How she'd regret never..." He shrugged, arms dropping back down to his ŀȧp. His hand rose an inch or two, a pair of fingers spread only to close. "Closing the distance between us, if something were to happen."

The knot in my stomach was so tight, twisting so much that I felt like the organ would rip in two. I closed my eyes, reminding myself this was in the past. He was here with me now. It served as a type of comfort, and my mind went back to this morning, when he had pinned me back against the bed.

"After all we've been through and everything we have done... You think you haven't seen anything new? That you haven't seen the sides of me Winry's only dreamt of?"

Warmth came into my gut. I opened my eyes, a little surprised to see him staring at me. That soft smile on his face. Another side he only showed me, I suppose.

That smile took me back to the beginning; to a train ride to Central City with a spoof pocketwatch in my bag.

It was there, with that smile, that our story began. But I didn't—couldn't—distract myself. This was his story. Not mine, not ours.

It was a piece I had no business trying to fit.

"I went back to get my automail fixed, about a year ago, since it needed maintenance I couldn't take care of myself.

I... I knew she cared about me. I got scared"—His eyes shut, hiding that gold away from me—"I got really scared because I realized how much I would hurt her if something were to happen to me. That's what kept me away in the first place, but I guess my own selfishness got in the way of that." A soft, self-deprecating grin was in his voice and I felt my stomach twist just at the sound of it. I didn't know what to say. I just wanted to give something that would get a real smile on his face.

I could only stand... and think.

Was he still in love with her? Was I... If... If he showed up again and suddenly asked me back into his life... Would I say yes? Would I even hesitate?

I wasn't sure, but I felt so disgusted with myself. My eyes shut, hand coming to my mouth before closing in a fist. I hated myself; I was making this about me again. Ed needed me to listen, and here I was whining about the least significant thing in the world.

"Sorry," I squeaked, eyes squeezing shut, taking a moment to hide in the darkness before I forced them open again. Seeing his worried golden eyes become just a little bit more concerned as I looked over to him again. I swallowed down the fresh wave of self-hate, freeing my throat enough to speak.

"You can keep talking. Sorry."

I was surprised when he offered his hand out to me. A small, soft smile was on that face.

"Here," was all he said.

I looked to his hand again, feeling a slight flutter in my stomach when I realized he was holding out his flesh hand. Waiting for me to place my own on top of it.

First step. Let's see if we can do it, alright?

I swallowed, not sure what to do or say. So I kept silent, watching his free hand raise towards my face. And then stop somewhere off to the left. My hair, two of his fingers moving along a certain strand, like they were measuring the length.

"I... I just got tired of making her wait like that," he said finally. "After Al and I decided to keep searching... I broke things off. I didn't want to... Not really... But I decided she needed someone who would actually be there for her."

I listened, feeling the air in my ċhėst turn to absolute stone. He didn't even want to break things off? Was he still in love with her?

His hand came into a fist, bunching up the fabric of his pants. I watched him swallow, his throat moving with the seemingly hard motion.

"I... Left things pretty bad. I really couldn't..." His eyes shut, then his head turned further down, away from me. "Bring myself to feel hurt. At the time, I felt totally justified in what I was doing. She yelled and cried until her voice was practically gone, but eventually..." His words trailed off, and I knew the memory playing in his head. The way he had left before; leaving her there crying against that open doorway.

"And then I didn't come back for a while," he continued on, voice a little bit smoother. "Around a year, actually. I did what I could to maintain my arm and leg myself, extra careful not to destroy anything." Saying this seemed to jam the next words in his throat, and he took a moment, collecting himself again. "When we finally came back for a pretty heavy repair—Al's body got broken up pretty bad and half of my arm was gone—I found out she was getting married."

He looked to me finally, a transparent grin on his face. "Guess she took my advice and moved on."

I broke away from his gaze, and then part of me moved. Crawling back, Ed's hold slipping away. I needed space, and I turned away as Ed sat up completely. My brain reached back, thinking, as I continued to hold myself from a distance. My brain reflecting on his words.

"I asked you and Al about her in the very beginning." I began.

It was his turn to look away, and his reply came softly.

"Old habits die hard, I guess. Just the normal jokes we would've done... Before..."

I didn't know what to say, but I felt a long-forgotten feeling rise in my ċhėst. There was something he was leaving out. Something he was skipping over.

As if he had read my mind, Ed raised a hand to his hair.

"There's... A few things I'm skipping over." He glanced to me briefly. "You said you wanted to know the whole thing, so..."

My mind went to the worst possible situation: did they have a kid together?! He seemed to read this thought in my horrified expression, instantly putting his hands up.

"N-No! Nothing like that, trust me! We didn't even... We never..." A sheepish grin spread his face. "The whole thing lasted for less than a few months, mostly long distance. You were pretty much my first everything, don't worry."

"Pretty much?" I muttered, a little embarrassed at my jumping to such an extreme conclusion.

"Um, yeah. But just for the record—" Another grin came him, extremely wide and friendly as a light blush came to his face, "You're a much better kisser than she is. Worlds away, trust me."

A memory flashed. The second time he had tried to draw me... He kept moving that same piece.

His fingers trailed down, measuring the length again as his eyes looked into mine. They looked like they wanted to say something, an emotion that I was feeling myself. A wonderfully, wonderfully complete feeling.

His lips curved, matching the small smile that had made its way onto my face. I forced myself from doing anything more, saying anything that would sidetrack us from the conversation we had been having before.

The memory of that argument replayed in my head; how awful Ed's face had looked before he stormed out.

"You're not my mother, Winry. So quit acting like it."

I held back a shiver, and a moment later felt Ed brush his thumb against the back of my hand, bringing me to reality again.

"There's..." He sighed; a heavy breath through his nose. His eyes were closed again, head back a bit. "There's a lot of shit we fought about. Sometimes the stupidest stuff, too." That thumb kept stroking my skin, rhythmic and gentle. A way to let me know I was still his. "I... I know she really cares about Al and I... And I know how she felt about me. Obviously."

How she feels about you. I added silently, holding the words away from my tongue.

"But... I dunno. Maybe I did feel something for her; I did when we were young anyway. But eventually I just got bogged down by the weight and the stress of everything."

I nodded a bit, not pressing him for more information. I didn't want him to open up more than he wanted to...

"Maybe we were like magnets. Similarities just kept repelling each other."

He smiled, smirked a little.

"She always kept the light on, just like Mom used to."

I didn't know what to say; where to go from there. My hand moved, fingers curling against his flesh shoulder, bunching up the strap of his tank top.

I didn't know where to take the conversation. I didn't press for more information, instead simply offering him my presence. I sat in silence, eyes closed, offering what little I could.

And my eyes opened when lips contacted mine. One hand on my neck, coaxing my body down to meet his. The kiss stayed gentle. Always so gentle.

I relaxed, knowing I was his. Whatever had happened in the past... It was simply history, like pathways on a map. Re-traced, but never revisited.

I kissed him again, knowing I'd be his pillar, for as long as he'd let me.