Story: One Step at a Time
Summary: Edward may have not typically been one to get involved in things that had nothing to do with him, but without a doubt, he was more observant than most people, and noticed things that nobody else did, so it was only a matter of time before he spotted the cuts on her arm beneath her sleeve. "Winry, what are those...?"
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.
Pairings: Probable slow-build EdWin, but may stay friendship in the end. Be prepared for either, but I'm thinking it's more likely I will have them paired up.

Also, I know that Winry usually wears short clothing, but in this fanfiction, I'm just going by a slight alteration where she always wears long sleeves around other people.

Edward and Winry may not seem to have much a rivalry spark in this first chapter, but I will have a little bit of one later on, if I continue.

(I'm partially writing this as coping mechanism for venting purposes, so please be nice.)

...

Edward may have not typicially been one to get involved in things that had nothing to do with him, but without a doubt, he was more observant than most people, and noticed things that nobody else did, so it was only a matter of time before he spotted the cuts on her arm. "Winry, what are those...?"

Edward knew what they were, but he couldn't see the extent of the damage and, more importantly, he wanted to hear it from her. Even though a part of him still didn't want to believe that he was right. Had it been most anybody else, he wouldn't have pointed them out, but he cared a great deal for Winry. He couldn't just sit by without saying anything while his best friend was hurting in such a way.

"Hm? What are what?" Winry, who was walking along side him, glanced over at him, confused for a second. She looked down, following his line of sight, before quickly feeling her heart skip a beat as she saw that one of her sleeves had been rolled back a bit and made a quick effort to roll her sleeve back down to cover the cuts back up. Edward had come here to Resembool to get his automail fixed. Alphonse had come along too, but was back at Pinako's house, oblivious to Edward's painful discovery. After finishing his automail, Winry and Pinako had convinced him and Alphonse to stay the night. It was sunset and Winry had asked Edward to walk with him for a little while, a suggestion of which Alphonse was suspiciously very enthusiastic about. Surprisingly, it eventually had turned around where Edward was the one leading the walk. But they'd now came to a hault.

"Oh, that? Well, I kind of got hurt yesterday while working on some automail." Winry said nervously, holding her arm behind her back and using her other hand to scratch the back of her head. She tried to come up with something that sounded at least remotely believable. "It can be a really dangerous process at times, especially if you're not careful. But it's just a few scratches. They should be fine in a couple of days."

Once again, Edward may have choicefully ignored a lot of things in his life, but he wasn't blind by any means. If there was something he knew about Winry, it was that she very cordinated and was not an amateur when it came to automail and she certainly wouldn't make such a mistake like that that. He could tell that she was lying to him.

"...Show me your arm..." Edward said, barely above a whisper, a pained and all-knowing expression on his face.

"Like I said, they're not that bad. Honestly, Ed, you worry too much." Winry played it off, trying to act as casual about it as possible.

"Please..." Edward pleaded for her to comply. "Just give me your arm."

Winry jerked away when he reached out to touch her arm.

"I told you it's nothing!" she snapped. "Just let it go already!"

"Don't lie to me! I know what I saw!" Edward retorted. Winry's eyes widened as he reached out again, grabbing hold of her arm faster than she could respond this time.

He pulled up her sleeve, his eyes widening as his golden irises sat their sight on the cuts and scars litering her arm. There were too many to count.

The boy felt his stomach churn uneasily as his suspicions were confirmed. His lips were quivering as he just stood there. How had he not noticed anything?

The strong girl he and Alphonse had grown up with as childhood friends and neighbors who had helped deliver a baby, the one who pushed him and Alphonse forward when they didn't know how to push themselves forward, had been cutting herself?

He didn't know what to think, but he wished more than anything that he could have done something to prevent it.

"Don't be mad..." Winry averted her gaze, not able to look at him.

At hearing her, Edward looked up to her.

"I'm not..." He said softly, taken aback by her plea. "Why do you think I would be mad at you...?"

Winry didn't answer, so Edward changed the question, still trying to process it all.

"How long...?" How long had he been unaware of all the pain Winry was feeling and bottling up? How had he only just now noticed?

"...Several years." Winry said, pulling in on herself more than before, allowing her hair to hide her face.

"That..." Edward's shoulder's shook. "long?"

He felt sick. This was all his fault. It had to be. Recalling once seeing scars on his mother's arms, and even occational cuts. He suddenly realized something. He'd been hurting Winry in the same ways that Hohenheim had hurt Trisha, and the more he thought about it, the more he hated himself and cursed his blindness for not seeing something that should have surely been so obvious.

Without thinking, he pulled Winry into a tight embrace.

"Edward, what are you-" Winry was about to ask, when Edward's next words cut her off.

"I'm sorry." His voice cracked, before he apologized again and again, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Winry's eyes widened feeling her own shoulders beginning to tremble.

"You idiot..." she choked out. "Why do you keep apologizing...? This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is! I should have noticed...!" Edward cried out. "I should have..."

"I kept it hidden from you, Al and everybody else. Of course you wouldn't notice it, Ed-"

"That doesn't matter!" Edward shot back, insistent on blaming himself. "There has to be something I could have done to...stop you from feeling that way, but all I did was push you away and I'm so sorry...!"

"Edward," Winry's voice was shaking, the tears in her eyes, desperately wanting to fall, as she pulled away from the embrace. "You always blame yourself for everything. Just stop it."

"I want to ask why you didn't ever talk to me about any thing, but I know it's because I'm hardly ever around... And I probably don't have the right to ask this, but I..." Edward fumbled over his words, not wanting to come off insensitive or like he was putting too much pressure on her. "Will you please tell me why...? You don't have to if you don't want to. I won't force you..."

It was clear in Edward's tone that he still felt bad for what happened, but was desperately wanting her to reach out to him.

Winry was conflicted at first, not sure what Edward would say, but something inside of her wanted to let some of her feelings out, so she put it in the only way she could think of:

"It distracts me..."

"...From what?" Edward forced himself to ask. Winry hesitated for a moment, unable to give a specific answer. There were so many things that had led to it. From her parents' deaths, to the fear of being alone and left behind again, the nagging feeling of just not being good enough. And furthermore, she wanted to be more of a help to the brothers on their journey despite how much she wanted to stay. It was a way of letting things out without having to verbalize her feelings. So she, once again, said all that she could:

"Everything..."

Edward grew silent for a moment, gazing down.

However, after a moment he smiled softly, getting an idea as he took her gently by the hand. "C'mon. Let's go back."

"Alright." Winry replied a bit hesitantly, but felt a tenge of warmth at the physical contact.

Edward knew it would take time to get her to open up, but he couldn't just turn a blind eye to her anymore. He had to be there for her more than he had been. He refused to become like his father, who'd left Trisha for years, never once coming back, and eventually leading her to her death bed.

What neither of them realized, however, was that this was nobody's fault. It was just that good people had been wrapped up in bad circumstances, and sometimes that happened in life. They'd all made mistakes, but they were still just kids. They had a whole life ahead of them yet. And emotions and struggles can be hard to cope with or even process some times, especially at their age.

It was as he was heading back home with her that he realized that while he was still strongly aware of the pressing goal about finding a way to get his little brother's body back to normal, Winry needed him too, and he would do whatever it took to be there for both of them. After all, they were friends, and perhaps even family, as Pinako and Winry had insisted.

He would find a way. No, they would both find a way to work it out together. One step at a time.

...

A/N: I hope this turned out fine. I've been in the hospital for a while now due to a whole bunch of shit at home and around me, and way too many people getting involved. But while I was in the hospital, I started a whole bunch of stories.

I don't know if I'll write more on this one any time soon or not, but maybe one day.