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Normally, Ed blows his top at the mention of his height. He knows he’s short, but people don’t need to poke fun at it. Especially that bastard of a colonel, who is also not that tall thank you very much. He has entire rants prepared for just such occasions.
This time, however, this time is different. The second the word short leaves the colonel’s mouth all Ed can think about is Al’s skinny body behind the gate. That no matter how much extra he eats, how much he sleeps, or how little he’s grown in the last five years. Al’s body is still skin and bones. All at once, Ed wishes he were shorter, that he hadn’t grown a single centimeter if it would make Al’s body healthier he would trade it away. He’d give anything for Al to be in his healthy body. Living his own life and tied to Ed; forced to chase after dead end, after dead end. But no, this is where they are after Ed’s mistake. Ed’s sin.
“I know I’m short you asshole!” Ed, guilt and grief, chokes his angry scream into a whisper.
Mustang freezes, shocked, “What?”
“I know I’m short,” Eds says slightly louder and antagonistic, “have you ever wondered why?”
Ed shakes his head and runs his hand over his face and scratches the back of his head. He turns slightly away from Mustang and wonders what he’s even saying. Mustang still looks wrong-footed, Ed is stepping outside of their normal dialog. He leans back slightly in his chair no longer looking smug.
“What are you talking about Edward?”
“My parents were as tall or taller than you. And yet I’ve grown less than ten centimeters in the last five years. Do you have any guesses as to why that is?” Ed asks condescendingly.
“There are many possible -”
“It’s because of what we did,” Ed says quickly, cutting off anything Mustang could say. Self-loathing colors Ed’s voice as he whispers, “because of what I did.”
His hand goes to his right shoulder as it throbs with phantom pain. Turning more fully Ed moves and drops down onto the couch in Mustang’s office. His forearms rest on his knees as he stares down at his hands, remembering all over again that awful day. Self-recrimination floods him, and he wishes again that he had found any solution other than trapping his brother in an unfeeling shell. There had to have been something else, he should have done something more. Before he can spiral further into unhelpful thoughts a hand lands briefly on his shoulder and the couch sinks slightly as Mustang sits on his left.
“What - what are you saying?” Mustang asks, voice bewildered and concerned.
“I saw it - Al’s body - on the other side of the gate when we escaped from Gluttony,” Ed says barely able to get the words out around the horror and guilt. “He’s so thin, you can count every rib. Brittle, like too much pressure and he’d shatter. I’m not even sure it could survive outside of the gate.”
And suddenly he’s angry again, and looks up into Mustang’s face. His voice gains volume as he continues, “so yes, I’m short! My body is providing the nutrients for Al’s. The food I eat and the sleep I get are the only things that are sustaining him. So of course I haven’t grown. My shitty childhood mistakes have caused this to happen and there’s nothing that can be done about it! And that’s not even getting into how much damage my automail does to my body! My arm’s weight is causing a curve to my spine. No matter how I try to offset that with physical therapy, I will never be the height I could have been. So you can take your short jokes and shove ‘em!”
Ed stands and paces away from Mustang and over to the windows, which he leans against, keeping Mustang in his peripherals. He wants to hit something or get into a fight. Anything to not have these roiling emotions inside. Everything seems easier after a good spar.
It’s not very often that Roy feels at a loss for words, and far too many of those times, in recent years, have been brought about by the shrimp leaning on the window. This revelation from Edward has brought back all of the horror Roy had felt the first time he saw the Elrics; Alphonse with his young voice coming out of that large suit of armor and Edward eyes dead in a wheelchair. What is he supposed to say in this situation? But before he can say anything, Ed’s walls visibly start to go up.
“In any case, I am not some half-pint,” Ed tries to say it with finality, but his voice breaks halfway through. Roy’s mind races for what to say as Ed grimaces.
“Edward,” Roy hesitates, then more firmly, “Edward, this is amazing news.”
Edward scoffs, but Roy continues, “no, seriously. You found your brother’s body. That’s a huge step in your quest. You also know how it’s being maintained. So you need to make sure that you take care of yourself to also take care of your brother. This gives you a more solid direction to go in now. Based on what Barry said, if you can get Al’s body here it should be easy enough to reunite soul and body. They’re drawn to one another.”
Edward slowly stands straighter as Roy speaks, and a different fire startes to return to his eyes. Roy let out an internal sigh of relief, he’d said the right thing it seemed. He genuinely wanted these kids to succeed in their quest, but he wasn’t always sure how to help.
Roy hasn’t let himself be too attached to the Elrics. They were very independent most of the time, but it was also dangerous for them to be seen as too friendly. If everyone thought they couldn’t stand each other Edward wouldn’t be used as leverage against him. Times like this reminded him that Edward at least was still struggling with the guilt of what had happened five years ago. It also reminded him how young they were, and the heavy weight they carried.
Before he could say anything else, Edward turns to the door and starts to leave saying, “I gotta go get back to my research,” he hesitated, then said with a smirk, “thanks, colonel bastard.”
Roy leaned back in a lazy sprawl, a cocky grin spreading across his face, “any time, shrimp.”
Edward squawked and started ranting immediately, eyes practically sparking. Roy leaned his head back into the couch and laughed.