The Same Coin

Aligning the Connections

"You should have told me you were heading to the north," Winry murmured, brows furrowed together and her lips turned downward in a frown while she set about aligning the connections of Ed's new arm.

She'd made this one in record time, less than three days — without the all nighters. Having the last cast and needing to make minimal adjustments helped significantly, along with Briggs already having their own custom formula for automail to be more resistant to the cold. She didn't need to waste any time experimenting and conducting trials, she had been able to move straight into production. If Ed noticed how efficiently she'd been able to get his automail done this time, he didn't acknowledge it.

"I didn't have a chance. I was in a hurry, okay?" he huffed, lying on his back on the exam table in the infirmary once more.

She hadn't seen him in so long — not a single time since she'd left Central after pulling a gun on Scar. His features had matured, cheeks thinning and the shape of his jaw becoming more angular. He was turning into a striking young man, but to Winry he was still the same Edward Elric who couldn't be left alone to his own devices because he inevitably found trouble wherever he went.

"Yeah, and when are you guys ever not in a hurry," she said rhetorically. "Anyway, what did you do to get locked up?"

Ed didn't get the chance to answer; Kimblee spoke up from where he stood supervising the procedure from in front of the door.

"It's only a misunderstanding," Kimblee said coolly with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "I'll have them released within no time at all."

"Thanks a lot, Major Kimblee. These two are lucky to have you watching out for them."

She'd said those words already the night before, and she saw him begin to open his mouth to correct her — to tell her to just call him Kimblee — but he didn't. Not with an audience.

"It's nothing," he said instead.

Winry felt a tug on the wrench in her hand, and she turned her attention back to where Ed lay, looking up at her with golden eyes that were brimming with concern and apprehension. She resumed gradually tightening the bolts to prepared for the final connection, dropping her head close enough where she could hear his whisper.

"Listen," Ed breathed. "I wouldn't trust Kimblee if I were you."

"Why not?" she asked in a hushed tone, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder at Kimblee. "He seems nice."

"Do you have any idea what that psychopath did in Ishval?"

Ed hissed the words, then turned his face away from her. Winry's lips pursed — she didn't, and Ed knew that she wouldn't. It wasn't the most fair question for him to be asking her and he should know that. After years of him only telling her bits and pieces, vanishing then reappearing only when he needed her help, she had no patience for being baited. She grumbled as much under her breath, and Ed turned to her.

"Did you say something?"

"No, Ed," Winry exhaled tersely. "I didn't say anything."

She gave the connection bolt a hard twist. Ed howled in agony, spine arching off the examination table in pain while his feet flailed. Winry turned to set down her wrench, lips pressed together to hide her smug smile, and saw Kimblee wearing a half smile of his own. It was a smile she was accustomed to; one that Hisoka wore often. Private amusement.

"What the Hell, Winry! I told you to warn me before you connected this, alright!"

"Yeah, yeah. Now let's do your leg."

She finished connecting Ed's leg in silence, deliberately avoiding his gaze while she worked. Kimblee and his men remained standing in front of the door, watching quietly as she finished performing the procedure. Ed was asking her questions about the durability when someone knocked on the door, and Kimblee and his men moved aside so another man could join them. The man was almost twice as tall as Ed, and almost as muscular as Major Armstrong. His dark hair was cut in a mohawk that was braided down his back, and he had a Fu Manchu mustache. The soldier wore the cobalt blue pants of a soldier, with a white undershirt — Winry immediately spotted his automail arm. Her lips parted in awe, and her fingers curled.

"Hmph, finally upgrading for the cold, huh?" the man rumbled at Ed.

"Are you upgrading, too?" Ed asked.

Winry was turning to Ed to set him straight when the man gave a throaty, robust laugh. "There's nothing left for me to upgrade to!"

"It's the M19 Mad Bear lightweight combat model!" she gushed, spiriting across the room to the newcomer's side. His hand was extended to Ed and she surveyed the hands. "What kind of reinforcement is that on the claws? They're not—" She could feel her heart thundering in her chest, its rhythm disrupted completely. "—diamond-tipped, are they?"

The man's brows raised and eyes widened as he looked down at her for the first time, but he sounded pleased when he answered her. "Yeah. She's fully modified. It's a specially crafted model."

Winry pressed her palms to her cheeks as she whirled around.

"Edward! You want me to upgrade you to one of these?!" she asked excitedly. She specialized in custom pieces, but she wasn't going to diminish the beautiful piece of work that was the M1910 series of automail.

"Not my style," Ed said, cross his arms and turning away.

Winry's nose wrinkled and she rolled her eyes. Well. Maybe she could get Hisoka to agree to it. He had no issue spending money on things like terminating her apprenticeship — certainly she could sway him to this.

"Who's the girl?" the man asked, glaring at Ed. "She's too cute to be hanging around you."

Winry blushed hotly while looking over to Ed, who still had his arms folded over his chest. She waited, holding her breath, for what he would say. All the angst and frustration was paused entirely. She needed his answer. She needed to know what Ed would say in the face of another man eyeing her this way.

"She's my mechanic."

Her bow to her admirer was as mechanical as she apparently was. Winry blinked away her tears and tried not to let the hurt show, but she could feel the disappointment and embarrassment burning on her countenance. Worst of all, everyone in the room had their eyes on her — everyone except Ed, who had just made it abundantly clear where she stood. If Ed...felt something for her...then all this would feel worth it. Instead, she was nothing more than a personal on-call automail service to him.

The man with the Mad Bear automail pulled back and punched Ed, sending him stumbling back across the room.

"What'd you do that for!" Ed snapped.

"'Cause life isn't fair," he said before sulking back out through the door. Winry straightened, biting her lip, then forced herself to smile for her audience despite the sharp pain in her chest.

"Real life northern automail! That's the first I've seen," she commented to no one in particular.

"Oh yeah? You wanna come check out my work shed then?" another man invited.

"Please, please, I'd love to." Anything to get away from Ed right now—

"Hey—"

Winry swallowed hard, not ready to look Edward in the eyes. But she gave him one last chance. She turned to him and asked, "What's wrong?"

He hesitated, and for a moment she thought he was actually going to say something that would put her back together.

"Try to keep on your toes and don't go off exploring," he warned instead. "Not on your own. It's not safe here, so be careful, alright?"

Winry's jaw clenched and she nodded.

"Okay, I will," she swore hollowly. Winry turned on her heel to face her fellow automailer again, and gave him a smile. "Alright. Let's see what you've got."