Leave A Scar

It was... Strange, taking showers normally. When I had been alone, I would always make the water "too" hot. Enough to burn my skin. Make me watch the first degree burns heal over time. Sometimes, the scars along my upper arms and shoulders and the space along my back and neck would get sensitive to the content, warm water. They'd grow numb but still tingle, and it'd be a strange sensation. One that almost made me want to be separate from my own skin. 

Ed had told me that his scars sometimes acted up. I wonder how he dealt with that. What it felt like for him; if it was different for everyone. Like eye color or voices.

These were the thoughts I was preoccupied with when I emerged from the bedroom Ed and I were sharing, my hair a little poofy from the attempt I just made at drying it. Light conversation that didn't break as I crossed the main room, heading for the kitchen counter, my mind set on making tea.

Flashes of another life, another source of pain came, and I swallowed, trying to remind myself that we had kept our teas on the counter, back against the wall. And this was different, because there were no teas on the counter and back against the wall. Nothing was there. So the teas were somewhere else, in a shelf high above the counter or in a drawer. Somewhere not there. It was a different time. Different place. 

I nearly broke, somehow keeping my tears from spilling. They hung at the edges of my eyelids, blurring the bottom half of my vision. Just waiting for me to blink and send first drops over. 

I brought up the kettle, filled it with water, and kept my hand around the handle as the metal heated. Reaching out to me, burning the skin. But I couldn't go for long. Not long enough to leave a mark. Not long enough to make something noticeable. Something Ed would preoccupy himself with.

I just had to keep hidden, for as long as possible.

_____

Had it?

He looked down, then with a quick glance around, lifted the hem of his pants until they reached above his boots. He leaned more weight onto his leg, and like always it clicked in response.

"Huh..."

The hem of his pants dropped, and he continued on, walking on the balls of his foot. As if...

"Ed..." I began, stopping. "Is... Your leg too short?"

He turned a little, enough for a golden eye to look my way. "It's just a height increase. Nothin' to get concerned about."

But....

"Brother..."

"We'll miss the train if we keep standin' around!" And he was right, with Al and I stopped like this, but... Another height increase?

So what. Had. Happened?

I couldn't figure it out. Questions wouldn't become answers; answers wouldn't become of questions.

How's that for a tongue twister?

Forget I said that. My own foolish mind again... 

With a look between both of us, Al and I walked behind, stopping again when Ed sat down and pulled up his pant leg again. With a quick look around, he clapped his hands, and levitated them over the space above his knee.

Red lightning sparked, and where his hands hovered, metal extended.

He paused, enough to straighten both legs and measure, I suppose, and then without a clap, the lightning started up again.

"How is he doing that?" Al asked. I didn't have answer. I didn't know... 

Tears welled up, but I quickly blinked them away. Before either of them saw. 

"What'dya think?" he asked us, like a car salesmen advertising a new product. "Who needs automail mechanics, am I right?"

Al blinked, and I just grinned back at him. Ed smirked, and then completely pushing up his sleeve, did the same, making sure his elbows lined up.

"And they said I'd never grow past five feet, if I was lucky! Wait 'til everyone sees the Fullmetal Alchemist now! I'll tower over those punks!"

As he pulled down his sleeve, covering his arm once again, 

I couldn't help but wonder... Why not go back to wherever Winry was? Why...

Keep running? A voice in my head whispered. You should know the answer to that, dear―

And it said my name, in all its disgusting glory. A name I couldn't repeat, couldn't put to paper, couldn't make permanent, immortal. 

It was spoken again, outside of my own twisted mind. My head snapped up, eyes wide. And Ed grew alarmed.

"W-what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," I said quickly. "Just... Get a bit lost in thought sometimes!"

Ed's expression grew focused, like he was trying to figure me out again. It wasn't an expression of anger; those golden brows weren't narrowed in light rage. I just... Couldn't help but think...

A whistle of a train broke us all out of... Whatever was going on. Ed turned, coat curling over his legs and whipping towards me. Braid flapping at me, too, and I couldn't help but count. Six.

Just like he said.

There was comfort, in the promise he had made, for me to count them next time I got the chance.

There was comfort, in that promise.

We were on the train when Al finally said something, from his place next to me.

Al's head bowed, and when he spoke, I could sense the desperation, even inside his echo.

"What if... What if my body's not getting enough nutrients, and that's why you're getting taller? What if..." The sadness became overwhelming, and I almost felt tears float to my own vision, just hearing it. "What if my body's withered away by now?"

"I doubt it, Al," he said softly. "My appetite would have gone down, and so would my need for sleep. They've only increased; in fact, I think they've doubled. You both could attest for that, with what you've seen lately."

He turned towards his brother again, and there was a softness in his words that could only be spoken from family.

"Your body's fine. I'm sure of it."

Al's head bowed again, hands continuing to hold onto his loincloth. I didn't... I couldn't blame him, for the uncertainty.

"Hopefully we'll get some answers with this new library," Ed continued, and I couldn't agree with him. Not out loud anyway.

I just felt so useless.

The library at Ebolas was celebrating its grand opening. It made it easier to deal with the crowd, weaving through and slipping past dozens of people. I spotted silver chains hanging from pockets, and it only made me think of the false pocket watch I had seen outside my house long ago.

It only reminded me of how rain fell. 

Leafing through books was one of the things I was good for. We searched, me resting a shoulder against the beginning of a shelf, Ed sitting surrounded by small organized piles of books, and Al somewhere in another section. 

It was when Ed approached the table I was sitting on that my focus broke.

"We should probably update Mustang on everything that's been goin' on..."

I thought back to what he said before. About higher-ups not bothering to include Mustang on Ed's State Alchemist exam. 

Ed must have read my mind, because the next words he spoke answered my question. 

"He's been with us since the beginning, and we're still reporting to him every now and then, so it's not like he's missing out on much," and he included my name, once again...

I just smiled through the pain.

I watched as he wrote. But after a few moments—after he had written about Al—his quill suddenly stopped moving, stopped those elegant loops and swirls. 

"Uh"—He grinned up at me, sheepish—"How do you spell your name again?"

I grinned, watching him write out the letters as I said them. When I was done, he gently shook his head, pen continuing to write. "I always think there's two Rs in your name."

I was surprised he even remembered how to vaguely spell my name at all, but I masked everything with a smile. My name was pretty strange, after all.

Leaning against the table with my hands, I looked down at the paper, seeing him glance up and blush a little bit. 

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head again, a bit quicker as he continued writing. "Nothing."

I didn't know what was up with him, but I decided to pry and find out. 

I perched myself on the edge of the table, noticing his back visibly get a little tenser. I wrinkled my brows in worry. 

"Are you okay?" I asked. 

"Y-yeah. Fine." He tried to grin. "Just busy working on this letter! That's all."

I made a sound, something I hoped sounded like a small agreement. Turning ahead of myself, I kicked my legs a little bit, still keeping them crossed and moving them as one. 

I smiled, a memory coming to me. The product of my brain reaching past cobwebs and dust mites for the sake of conversation.

It seems productive walls were in today.

"Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?"

Ed paused again, and I heard the smile in his voice. A soft one.

"Yeah," he answered. 

I looked down to him again, still keeping the same smile.

"What did you say?" I asked him. 

He straightened, standing upright as he bounced the edge of the paper on the table, making sure the letter was straight. That smile never faded; in fact, it just grew a little more. 

"I told you that if you kept frowning, your face would get stuck like that!"

I grinned with him, holding my hand to my lips even though I was too amused to really try and laugh. "That just made me frown a little more, but you usually wore an even bigger one!"

He grinned, laughing a little. "Yeah, I still do."

I relaxed, looking at him again. Even with the table raising me, we weren't too far off from being the same height again. 

"I don't think you frown very much," I commented, tilting my head to one side. 

Ed looked away, down to the paper again. With a tiny blush, he shrugged. 

"Yeah, well..." His eyes stopped reading over what he wrote, and quickly he bent down again, crossing out a few words. "Dammit, you made me mess up!"

I grinned, throwing my head back to the ceiling in triumph. 

"I knew I'd get you distracted!"

"Feh." Ed placed the quill back in the holder and stood upright again. 

I was quiet, as he read through the note, ȧssessing his own work. I knew the silence that was required for such a task, and kept my own mouth shut. 

I kept quiet, until he spoke, words mainly directed to himself.

"Okay... think it's done."

We went back to reading, after that, a silent promise to drop the letter off between us. Sitting on an armchair, I snuck a glance at Ed. Taking note of how he was lying down with one hand behind his head and ankles crossed. 

I had to make conversation; I had to say something...

I did what I did best; I feigned happiness.

"It's been such a long time since I've read anything! I wonder if any of my drawings are here!" Some distant wall shattered, obliterating and leaving imaginary workers to sweep up the casualties.

Ed glanced to me, one brow lightly raised.

"Yeah?" he returned. "When's the first time you were published in a book?"

I thought back, trying to think quickly enough to bypass every horrible memory standing between now and then. I tried to swallow, tried to breathe right and I'm sure Ed noticed some change in my face. But I raised my hand to my head, covering my face as I bowed it a little towards my lap. 

Fifteen. I was fifteen.

"Sixteen," I said, smiling brightly at him. "It was only a few years ago."

Ed nodded, turning back to his book before turning his stare up to the ceiling, the hook of his hair bouncing a little as he dropped his head back down to the floor. 

He suddenly beamed a grin that paled in comparison to mine. Maybe it was because his were always genuine. 

"Hey, what'dya know," he laughed, "we've probably used some of your books." He paused for a moment, then nodded again, beaming once more. "Yeah, about two years ago; that'd put us at a point where we were still stumbling around libraries." He looked to me again, a little more relaxed but eyes still so bright. "Have you always done Alchemy illustrations?"

"I... I started with them," I said, avoiding his gaze. Trying to distract myself with the pressure that came from twisting the edge of my skirt around a finger. But it was still too loose, and Ed's presence was much too constricting.

He gave a small sound, a quiet hum like he agreed with me before turning to look at the ceiling again. 

He raised the small text to his face again, propping opening the pages with his fingers spread a bit wider. "It's neat how things are connected like that," he said, and I almost smiled at how blatantly he put it. 

I looked over at him again, unable to hold back a slight curve to my lips. And he didn't notice, continued to scan the pages and continuing to talk in that quiet way of his. 

"You've probably been helping us since the beginning," he said, and this time my smile dropped. 

He looked to me as I looked back down, and I knew he was giving me that smile even if I couldn't bring myself to see it. I couldn't glance up, but I could practically feel that... that warmth burning into me. Engraving some word. Another mark on my skin, maybe. Another burn for all the wrong reasons. 

He called my name, and I snapped to attention again. That smile was gone, and only a crease between his brows remained. 

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, doing what I do best; looking away, hiding my face from him again, and lying straight through my teeth. "I'm fine. Just... Think I might need some lunch, is all."

"Yeah, sure." He was on his feet faster than I expected, and his hand snapped down, catching the book he'd forgotten to set down before standing. "What'dyou feel like having?"

I smiled a little at his eagerness, standing as well. I brushed my skirt off, replying that he could pick; it seems like I was always deciding on something. 

A small sound forced me to look up again, and I stared at the look Ed was giving me. One eye clenched a little—squinted, even—the other a bit wider, mouth twisted down to one corner like he'd just eaten something sour. Overall, a face that was probably disproving of what I had just said.

I grinned, straightening and putting my hands behind myself. "What? I'm letting you pick. You'll also get to pay, so that's something, right?"

I was talking to him like a child, and I hated myself for it. But he beamed again, and the next thing I knew, our arms were loosely interlinked and I was quickly walking beside him and a few feet behind. 

"You know," Ed told me, "you drive a hard bargain but I think I can come through this one time. It's tough having so much money, but I think we'll be able to manage."

I rolled my eyes a little, thankful he didn't turn and look as we approached an aisle of books. And at the end, Al was sitting down on the floor, stacks of different sizes flanking him. 

Ed suddenly pulled away from me, pivoting as he stepped away, hands coming to his coat pockets as he called out to Al. 

What he said exactly, I didn't hear, but I focused a bit more on how he was more than arms length away from me now. I guess my natural repellent was working... He couldn't standing to be near me for more than a few minutes. 

Al looked up at his brother's voice, and a few seconds later, he nodded, seeming to be agreeing with something. 

"Okay," he replied. "I'll be here when you guys get back."

Lunch. That's right. We were going to eat something. As soon as I'd had this realization, Ed spun around to face away from his brother, sending a goodbye and leaving me to hurry after him. 

We ended up settling on a sandwich shop, eating outside. Both of us quiet; Ed taking huge bites while I took small ones. Finally, or rather eventually, he looked up, looking towards me. His bites decreased drastically, matching mine.

"Somethin' on your mind?" he asked, and I was thankful not to hear the sound of my name. 

I met his eyes, and quickly shook my head. Closing my eyes for a moment, hiding in that darkness.

Here I go, repeating myself again.

"No," I replied, and broke a wall. Taking a bigger bite, chewing and speaking from the very edge of my mouth, food trapped against a cheek. "Just thinking too hard, is all."

"Lemme guess." He settled back, and my heart settled into a quicker pace. "It's about the height increase."

It really wasn't-―my brain was blank before he started speaking-―but talking about another strange increase in height was better than talking about my lack of thoughts. So I nodded, and wrapped a finger around the side of my skirt until the zipper stopped me. 

"It's fine," he told me, sitting up again, the hook of his hair gently bouncing. He ripped off a piece, speaking from the side of his mouth as he chewed. "Just worry about yourself, alright?"

That broke some deep wall, of course. And I could only stare, and wait for him to look up.

He did, and his expression immediately softened, his gaze dropping to the table below.

"I... didn't mean that in a mean way," he began, voice hushed. "Just... You're the most important thing. To yourself, that is."

He glanced up, and heat was tinging his face. Even with his bangs partially covering his cheeks.

"So take care of yourself... alright?"

I...

I didn't know what to say to that.

Some wall grew, wrapping around that monstrous castle, that mansion haunted with endless amounts of ghosts. So I just nodded, and nibbled on my sandwich a little more.

Trying to distract myself from his kindness, once more.

It didn't work, and my heart kept kicking up, whenever he looked at me. Sneaking glances, when he pretended to look out into the street beside us.

I tried not to notice them. I really did.

______

That night was the fifth time Ed and I shared a room, sleeping in the same quarter. Even if we were in the same space, I built walls just the same. It was harder to do, when someone so loyal was so close.

Ed stood near his bed, already taking the blanket out of the suitcase by his feet, but I quickly waved a hand.

"N-no, it's fine, Ed, you take it!"

With one brow raised, he offered the blanket to me with one hand, practically shoving it forward, already neatly folded. 

I met his stare, glaring for a moment, but that expression of his didn't back down. Silently demanding I take it, even if he'd put it over me himself. 

I sighed, reaching out and taking the blanket from the space between our beds. I flapped it from one end, spilling the fabric onto the floor and barely noticing Ed's expression fold into a state of worry as he stared at the end of the blanket that wasn't being held by me. The part that was on the ground.

Don't worry, Ed; it's not like I can get any more disgusting.

I was in bed, picking up the normally provided covers and beginning to shift my feet until they were underneath when he suddenly appeared at my bedside. Picking up the end of the blanket closest to me, sliding it closer until it matched the lines all the other sheets made. Until the knuckles and backs of his fingers grazed against mine, holding themselves there. 

"So you're covered properly," was all he said. 

I didn't look up to meet his stare, only knowing from the position of his bangs that his head was down and facing near his feet. Heat crept to my face, and quietly I cleared my throat. Swallowed a little, trying to keep myself from doing something stupider than usual. 

"T-thanks," was all I got out. 

I barely saw him nod before I rolled onto my side, feeling the blanket float to me as I turned my back on him. I heard his foot step back, a dragging sound against the floorboards, and softly he cleared his throat as well. 

"Get some sleep," he said, "if you can. Big day tomorrow and all."

I nodded, hoping he could see how I agreed with him. Because it was... Right? 

What else can they search for? Where else could they go...?

He was turning away, shifting and his few steps suddenly turning to a cracking pop of the floorboard. One foot leaving, forcing the other to take on all of the weight. And then the bed frame squeaked, the rest of him being added to the mattress. 

"Shoulda gotten quieter beds," he murmured, and I could hear that soft grin in his voice. Like he was speaking from one corner of his mouth.

I rolled over, resting on my other side and seeing his stare instantly go to me. Bright eyes waiting, expecting some words to come out of the mouth I was always opening. It counted... It could count, right now... I could fucking say something and get things happier again. Because if he was still struggling, if he still needed some kind of help... Something I could give him... 

I wanted to. I wanted to do that for him, for someone who had already done so very much for someone as awful as me. 

But... Could I even be rewarded in such a way? 

Ed spoke my name, softly, that word snapping me out of my thoughts, snapping my stare back to him and snapping the face of some near wall. 

His brows moved a bit closer together. "You okay? There something I could do?"

Me? He was worried about me?

He must have seen the shock and surprise on my face.

He sat up, already ready to stand again. "Would water help?"

For the hell I've put myself in? No, Ed; it's fine. 

I smiled just a bit, shaking my head in the smallest of ways, nuzzling my mouth and the point of my nose against the inner-tip of the blanket. Seeing a small blush come to his face, and feeling the heat transfer to me as well. 

"No, Ed," I replied, speaking even softer than he had. Feeling that heat spark another surge. "It's fine."

He blinked for a moment, and then looked away, one hand raising to his hair, arm bent at an angle. "Y-you sure?"

I made the tiniest of agreements, a short wave of sound that must have made him even more embarrassed because his face lowered to his lap. One finger picking at some spot on his pant leg. 

"Y-yeah," he said finally, "okay."

And suddenly his back was to me, sheets rising upwards in a small tidal wave before collapsing down onto him, draping over the shoulder he wasn't resting on. 

"Night, and everything."

I almost wanted to grin, pin the edge of that blanket between my teeth in order to keep an actual laugh from sounding. I just didn't expect him to react that way, and be so sudden about it. 

I wondered how hard it was, for him to be stuck in the same room as me.

This question remained in my thoughts, locked—hidden—away. It remained there, a suċċubus on its prey, until my mind grew tired and sleep carried me away.