Chapter Text
When Izumi agreed to take on those little country boys as apprentices, Sig had some concerns. His concerns were, in order: was Izumi healthy enough to be responsible for not just the safety of, but the education of, two young boys? Would the boys take well to her attitude, and if they didn’t, what would they do? And finally, was she emotionally ready to have children in the house after everything she’d been through?
In the end, Sig kept these concerns mostly to himself. He trusted his wife - she was the smartest and strongest person he’d ever met, after all. If she said she could handle it, then Sig would accept that and do whatever she needed of him.
Sig’s first impression of the boys was that they were energetic and naive, as kids should be. He sat quietly on the train beside Izumi as the boys badgered her about alchemy and her home and yammered on and on about how exciting all of this was. Their youth was refreshing to be around.
At one point, the older brother, Edward, rounded on Sig. “What about you? Are you an alchemist too, Mr…” He trailed off at the realization that he’d never learned the man’s name. Both brothers fidgeted quietly as they looked at him, clearly unsure of themselves.
“Call me Sig,” he said. It came out gruffer than he intended. “Not an alchemist. Just a butcher.”
“Oh.” Edward frowned, seemingly disappointed by that answer. He didn’t say a word to Sig the rest of the ride, talking only to his brother and Izumi.
Sig tried not to take it personally, especially with the way Alphonse kept glancing at him with wide eyes. He knew he could have an intimidating presence, especially for children, so it was understandable if it would take some time for them to warm up to him.
When the four of them disembarked from the train in Dublith, Izumi passed all their luggage to Sig with a kiss on his cheek and told him she would be home for dinner. He nodded, and as he shouldered the bags he turned to the Elric brothers.
“Stay sharp, and good luck, boys,” Sig told them.
Alphonse nodded, again with that wide-eyed look, while Edward shot back an uncertain grin.
“Thanks,” the brothers said in tandem.
In the month that the boys spent on the island, Sig had some preparations to do.
“Where will the boys stay, if they make it back?” he’d asked his wife.
“We’ll make the other room ready for them,” Izumi had replied dismissively.
Right. The other room. The one neither of them had set foot in since the night Sig had found her bleeding on the floor with the pile of mangled flesh she’d made in an attempt to revive the child she lost. The child they lost.
When Sig put his hand on the doorknob he half-expected it to be rusted shut, but it opened when he pulled, even if the hinges made a big fuss about it. Everything inside was exactly as they’d left it. The crib that Sig had built in the corner, the dresser up against the wall, the bins of toys tucked away and dusty with age. Sig had done his best to scrub the blood and chalk out of the floorboards, but a faint pattern remained, outlining the event that had taken place there eight years before.
He sighed, seeing the room. The memories brought with them the ache of an old wound, but in the end they were just that - memories.
In the month that the boys spent on the island, Sig replaced the stained floorboards, repainted the walls, oiled the creaky hinges, dismantled the crib (he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, and though Izumi chastised him for his sentimentality, she did nothing to prevent him from storing it in the attic) and gave away the toys to local children. When the renovations were done, he outfitted the room with two single beds and a bookshelf, which he left for Izumi to fill with an eclectic combination of picture books and alchemical texts. The day before the month was up, Sig held his wife to his chest and kissed the top of her head.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked her gently.
“Of course I am,” she retorted, always the spitfire. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t sure. And besides, it’ll be nice, finally having kids running around.”
Sig only hummed in reply. Maybe she was right. Maybe his concerns were unfounded, and the Elrics would have a healing effect on the atmosphere of their home. Maybe then they wouldn’t want to leave it so much.
When the boys came home for the first time, their hair was in knots and their clothes were filthy; they were sweaty and covered in scrapes and bumps. But they were as energetic as they had been back in Resembool, back on the train, and Sig felt a smile grace his face as he heard them thunder through the hallway before they appeared in the kitchen where he stood. They froze when they saw him, and he set down the knife he’d been using to chop vegetables.
“I see you made it out alive,” Sig observed.
“Of course we did,” Edward said boastfully. “It’ll take more than a dumb island to kill us.”
“You thought we were going to die on the fifth day, brother,” Alphonse giggled. He still seemed a bit shy in Sig’s presence, but he had at least relaxed enough to needle his brother.
Edward’s face went red. “I was being realistic, at the time! You’re the one who was whining about wanting a real bed all the time!”
Before Al had a chance to defend himself, Izumi appeared behind them and took them each firmly by the arm.
“I said wash up for lunch, ingrates. The bath is this way,” she instructed, dragging them both away while they complained.
Sig resumed the food prep, and as he listened to the arguing and splashing several rooms away, he decided maybe his wife was right. This would be nice.