Archive of Our Own ^beta

His hair was a golden hume of desert gold splayed across her lap. Unlike Alphonse, her eldest son had hair long enough to reach the base of his neck, with bangs framing a sleeping face. The irises that glimmered the same molten gold were hidden behind closed eyelids, and a baggy darkness underneath his eyes mirrored the lack of rest his body had been getting recently. It was a quiet evening, the silence broken only by soft snores drifting in wavelengths, the darkening sky being proof of time’s progression.

She let her fingers run through his hair, relishing in every fiber twirled around her finger, her sweaty palms softened by strands woven by silk. His father’s hair had been equally a beautiful aurelian, one of the many reasons she had fallen in love with him. Hohenheim's soul had molded itself into a physical body it seemed; and firmly she would reassure him: his heart was made in gold, no matter the rust those treacherous years might have garnered.

She saw so much of him in her boy, in his smile, eyes, and the little habits he tended to do. Like now, how his stomach was splayed out in the open, shirt hiked up by an unconscious hand. It was so very cute, and she hoped he carried that adorable quirk in his later years.

A mellow sigh drifted from his mouth as he fidgeted slightly, rolling over to find a more comfortable position. Settling on his side, his eyelids fluttered gently before closing 0nce more. He’d always been a heavy sleeper.

That being said, it was hard to get him to sleep in the first place. When he was younger, the boy blatantly refused to sleep around anyone that wasn’t his mother. He clung to her like a lifeline, tiny fingers clasped around the ends of her hair or bunched into her dresses. He only fell asleep around those he trusted, she eventually realized, and cooed at the first time he fell asleep on Hohenheim. His father’s face had been desperately panicked, but welled with tears at the sight of the little boy’s peaceful expression. It would be a lie to say she didn’t miss those days, where her eldest didn’t hold resentment as the only emotion towards his father.

He fell asleep around Al too, often by accident when trying to stay awake to watch over his little brother. Once he confirmed that Al was safely dreaming, only then did he drift off himself. She was so, so glad he was a good older brother, so happy they had each other.

Especially now, her sons needed each other more than ever. Soon they would each be all the other had left, because Trisha Elric knew she was dying.

It was inevitable, dying, and she knew she was lucky to live a mortal life. Living and dying, taking your first and last breath, existence and it’s cease.

Let it be known Trisha Elric was not afraid of dying. She welcomed it with open arms, when the days arrived where her sons would be wise enough to grieve their loss, but not death itself. When both she and Hohenheim could comfortably leave the ever moving earth and lay rest as an intertwined, singular one.

What she was afraid of was shattering that promised future, one spoken with no intent of ever breaking. She would leave this earth unwhole, incomplete. And that terrified her to the very core.

There was nothing she could do to stop the flow of time, to end the snakelike spread of the disease that plagued her body. It had started with a cough, as it always does. That cough morphed into a nameless malady, claiming her body as its own to conquer, to destroy. Fire turned her fingers to ash, and she was sure it burned straight through bone despite her skin being perfectly clear, head pounding to her heartbeat loud and incessant, her eyes thrumming against her skull.

Take a nice vacation, the doctor had said. Take those kids of yours and make some memories while you can.

But most of all, she was afraid of leaving her sons behind. She would never see her boys past the ages of four and five. They were still so young, so frighteningly innocent.

She believed in her boys with her whole aching heart, yet there was no quelling the terror that racked her body. Two beautiful boys would grow up without a mother’s warmth.

Trisha reached out and took his hands, tracing the curved lines that etched into smooth skin. A smile graced her son’s features, his tiny hand curling around her larger one with a hum of contentment. His hands were so small, so silky, so delicate, so unburdened.

It would be too much, she supposed, to hope those hands would always be as smooth as glass.

In truth, the world would sully more than just his hands with its unforgiving character, one covered in dirt and grime and temptations that ended in vindictive disappointments. She could only hope, brushing tangled bangs from his sleepy face, that there would be people who wiped the dirt from his face, and helped him stand up once more after every defeat he experienced.

Her sons would have each other. She knew how much love the boy in her lap had for his brother; it was raw, unconditional devotion, and she knew Al was the same. She knew the Rockbells and their daughter, Winry, and how much they cared. She knew the brothers would be left in kind, faithful hands, and they would grow to be incredible men. She knew she wouldn’t be around to see, to tell them how proud she was to be their mother.

And so she hoped, hoped her sons would meet people who loved them with every bone in their bodies. They would uplift their souls to the sky, yet be tender and stern when needed.

She hoped Hohenheim, wherever he was, would one day reunite with his children. And when he was ready to join her, to tell her everything that happened while she was away.

“I’m sorry I have to leave you,” she whispered gently for the stagnant room to hear. Her hand moved to calmly brush through his hair, untangling the desert gold cascading across her lap.

He crooned, and Trisha wanted nothing more than to stop the world from spinning with her own bare hands.

“I trust you,” she spoke. “And I hope one day, you’ll allow yourself to dream around those you love. And I know whoever they are, they’ll love you just as much, Ed.”

Granny once told her that when someone openly slept around you, it’s a sign of trust, which was why Winry didn’t dare to move a muscle.

She had been sitting completely still for the better part of an hour, body completely stonic despite her addled mind.

It was much harder than she anticipated, to stay very still, and not twitch at the slightest jostle of movement. Even as blonde hair a different shade than her own tickled her shoulder, she willed herself not to brush it away.

He was a precious commodity, as fragile as a beginner's automail. Edward would yell at her for even associating the word ‘fragile’ with him, but it was all she could think of when looking down at the slumbering boy resting against her side, hitched breaths unsteadily exhaled from parted lips. It wasn’t hard to notice he was probably having a nightmare.

And even though she desperately wanted to free Ed from his own mental prison, where the nauseating horrors roamed freely in control, she knew he needed the sleep no matter how horrible it might seem. Ed was talented in many aspects. But he could never lie very well, no matter how hard he tried. Especially to someone like her, who knew every expression as if they were pieces of a broken machine. She was sure Al saw it too.

Ed always said he was fine. Even when his tone revealed he didn’t even believe it himself, he would wave off concerns and quickly (not discreetly) change the subject. More so in the past year, with all the pain that came with automail surgery.

It wasn’t like Winry didn’t understand Ed’s stubborn nature to carry all his burdens alone. She really did- after all, they were pretty similar in their obstaniance. In no way could she forget the night Ed admitted his guilt, pressured by the insistent pain that no doubt coursed through his bones. He still refused to acknowledge it directly, using that same tactic of diversion.

It made Winry think, maybe Ed didn’t trust her.

And that hurt, to think that he didn’t feel comfortable enough, instead choosing to ignore it all together. A part of Winry knew it wasn’t her specifically, but the cynical rational of her mind whispered doubts in her ear. All Winry could do while Ed and Al suffered was wait. Wait for Ed to stand up again on two feet, and smile that gorgeous smile, one that reassures “everything's gonna be fine, Winry.”

He gave her that same smile the same day everything went to hell.

She wanted Ed to rely on her, she wanted to protect him. Maybe it was stupid, for someone with no experience to have such high ambitions, but the boy sleeping on her shoulder shuddering from nightmares was an austere difference from the boy who grinned silly while ruffling her hair.

She hoped Granny’s words were true more than anything in this moment. Granny herself would smack Winry for even questioning her words. She was always right.

Sniffling, Ed burrowed his head into her shoulder, until Winry could feel the puffs of air brushing across her neck.

She would not. She would not wake him from desperately needed sleep just because her cheeks felt embarrassingly warm.

And although shocked tingles raced up her spine, she had to admit it was a gleeful sensation. Something giddy with excitement, tainted with the youthful desires she bore to become blissfully ignorant. They could just be two children, boy and girl, Ed and Winry.

It was an uncomfortable position to keep, mostly because of the handcrafted automail Edward had on his right side that kept digging into her shoulder. The feel and sight of a well- made prosthetic always made her stomach churn with excitement, but when it’s cutting off circulation to her upper body… well, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Fuck it, she grumbled, and slowly maneuvered her arm around Ed’s left shoulder, setting his back against the couch, while she laid her head across from his.

He wasn’t going to be here tomorrow. Tomorrow nothing changed, yet everything changed. She exhaled as her eyelids closed, soaking in the finite presence that would soon leave her heart deficient. She pushed back the prickling tears gathering at the ends of her eyes, stupid, stupid. She wouldn’t cry over this, not when both brothers would come back safely intact. Not like when her parents left, and she could only watch as their backs became specks in the distance.

It might’ve been because she became so lost in her own thoughts that the rustling inches away from her face went unheard. She blinked open her eyes, if only to shift her position, when her eyes connected with others.

Frozen silence. Ed’s mind was probably just as scrambled as hers in the moment, considering the awkward pause where both preteens stared blankly, not moving an inch.

Winry could pinpoint the exact moment she knew Ed registered his current predicament in his brain, starting with a rush of heated red to his cheeks. He opened his mouth presumably to scream, and she knew to act quickly. On instinct, her hand clasped over his half parted lips, stifling the words that were seconds away from eruption.

It was a little funny, his distorted expression and wide eyes, but Winry imagined she looked just about the same as he did.

She wasn’t going to let him run away. Her mind had been made up, carved into firm steel coating the very tips of her fingers that brushed against his warm cheek.

“Winry?” The muffled voice came from under her hand. “What- wha… what are we- I, you doing?

“Don’t yell, or you’ll wake Granny” she said, slowly removing her hand from his face. His body tended to follow his mouth, so as long as Ed didn’t yell, he wouldn’t leave her get up. “I- we, we’re sleeping” she responded, eyes glued to the wall.

Ed frowned. “Yeah but. I mean, I don’t remember falling asleep like this,” he motioned back and forth, the frown tugged into a scowl.

“Maybe your memory isn’t right,” Winry defended, “Memory loss is a common side effect of automail surgery.”

The boy scoffed as his voice grew louder, a definite sign of rising anger. “I think I know my own damn memory. Did you do something to m-”

“Oh for god's sake!” She shrieked, ignoring her own volume. How loud her voice was hardly mattered in that moment, as her eyes trained themselves on Ed’s wincing ones. “You fell asleep on me, moron!”

His eyes widened even further. Winry huffed, taking pleasure in his flustered grimace.

“But,” she continued, now looking at him directly, “I moved you down so I’d be more comfortable. I’m sorry.”

“No!” He shouted, instantly wincing at how loud it came out. “It’s- it’s fine, seriously. Um, sorry for falling asleep on you. I can move.”

“Don’t.” Winry told him, grabbing his wrist as he made a move to get up. “You need to sleep, Ed. You’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow. And besides,” she blushed a bit, yet kept a determined demeanor. “I want you here. It’ll help me sleep.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

Silence reigned over the atmosphere once more, and Winry felt a tight jolt in her stomach, one stemming from her mind's apprehension. Was that weird to say? She couldn’t take it back now.

Then he smiled, not bright and large but smaller and shy. Genuine.

“Idiot,” he proclaimed softly. “Go to bed then.”

Winry’s fist tightened around her pant leg, willing herself to shut her eyes close on the boy in front of her. She was prepared for that to be her last view of Ed before he left, until a metal hand tugged at her sleeve.

“Wait, Winry? That can’t be comfortable” Ed stressed as he looked around for a pillow. “I can go get you a blanket, or a pillow since you were too dumb to bring one-”

His voice tethered at the end, cut off by the sudden weight that dropped on his chest.

“You be my pillow then” Winry argued from where she was muffled into his shirt. “I trust you.”

She couldn’t see his face from here, and she supposed it was for the best. His body was stiff, frozen under her head. His rapid heartbeat was the only movement that resonated through her ear.

Slowly, a hand found itself hovering on the top of her head, hesitant and feather light. When he saw she leaned into its touch, it rested on her hair, fingers softly spayed out on her scalp.

She let her eyes close, endless fields soiled in despondency had caved in black. He wouldn’t be here when she woke up, and they both knew it. It was a terrifying thought that clawed at her muscles to do something, however she remained perfectly still. It was a tedious waiting game, awaiting sleep to cleanse her mind until morning.

She could only believe in equivalent exchange, as Ed always preached. She returned his trust, and began awaiting the day that bright- eyed smile would reappear.

It wasn’t the first time they’d been stared at by a stranger, and Al doubted it would be the last.

“No, we’re alright,” was the response he chose to reiterate back to the condutor. “But thank you.”

Al raised his voice octaves higher in order for his words to be heard against the loud click- clack resounding through the traincar. He sounded even younger than he already was, and watched as the conductor's face contorted into a surprised grimace. This practically was a daily occurrence, considering all the stares and gasps he received when strangers realized it wasn’t a grown man in the suit of armor. Al cursed his prepubescent vocal chords.

The conductor’s loud shoes clicked as he walked away, but still the mechanics of the train reigned triumph in making noise. The cacophony was probably the reason the other man didn’t push any further, and it made Al appreciate whoever designed such a rackety train. It was hard to answer questions he didn’t have explanations for.

Ed usually just flashed his state alchemist watch whenever people pried. A pretentious method, but effective nonetheless in order to get strangers to leave them alone.

Turning his head back around to the left, Al supposed the conductor was justified in his confused worry.

“Brother?”

Lethargic golden eyes attempted to focus on his, but the dulled haze over half- lidded pupils could barely even open. Ed opened his mouth to speak only to be stopped by Al’s firm hand.

“Get some sleep,” Al told him. “I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

Ed shot him a brief glance, one filled with gratitude and thanks, before dropping down at the bat of an eye.

Luckily for him, Al didn’t have to blink, and managed to catch his upper body before Ed gracefully slammed into the train floor.

“Stupid idiot,” Al muttered while propping his brother up against the leather seats. The clambering of the train bounced in a steady rhythm, jolting Ed’s body with every shake. To prevent the bumpy ride from catapulting Ed out the train window, (unlikely, but when had the odds ever been in their favor?) Al gently set his brother against his armor, blond head resting on a large steel plated arm.

His big brother was a big fat moron in the shape of a small child. Why Ed decided to run himself haggard to the point of collapsing on a train was beyond Al. The older boy had deep grey undereye bags that were a stark contrast to pale skin, and they never seemed to disappear no matter how much Ed slept.

“I’m always tired,” Ed had shrugged nonchalantly. “Might as well just power through it.”

And he did. That was what bothered Al, worried him beyond belief. The fact that Ed went days without sleeping, spending hours studying alchemic texts or researching the next lead for finding the philosopher's stone.

Al hated being stuck in armor, he really did, but he’d rather prolong the reclamation of his physical body if it meant his brother didn’t always look like he was on the brink of collapsing.

Even when Ed did sleep, the twitches and flinches that racked his sweating form was a telltale sign of repeating nightmares that never left, and Al had a pretty good idea what haunted him in slumber. It was the same thing that caused him to spiral late at night, trapped in his own mental vortex with no relief. Al couldn’t ever escape his own mind.

Today was lucky. Despite the shaky ride the two were currently on, Ed was dead weight against Al’s arm, leaning into the metal with a smooshed cheek. No flinches, no screams clogged in his throat. It never made sense to Al how he could just fall asleep anywhere, especially on something as cold and unflinching as his armor. Still, it comforted him knowing he could at least offer some support to his brother’s sleeping habits. It was nice to know that Ed still viewed him as his little brother, and not as an intimidating stature.

“Intimidating?” Ed questioned, a chuckle escaping his throat. “Please, Al. You’re the kindest human I know.”

Humanity was a fickle thing, and maybe Al didn’t know where he belonged on that long, thin line.

“Sir?” A tentative voice broke him out of his stupor, and Al turned his head with a creak. The conductor was back, this time a bright red blanket held in his clutch. The man held it out, brown eyes fixed on Al’s red gaze. “I thought you could use this for your… ah…”

“Brother,” Al clarified, reaching a gauntlet out to gently take the fabric. “And thank you very much, mister…?”

“Kalvin.” The conductor, Kalvin, stated. “He’s very cute, your younger brother.”

Al quickly tossed the blanket over Ed, hoping he didn’t hear what was said. Even in his sleep, it was as if he had a sixth sense for detecting any variation of the word ‘short.’ Al stifled his laughter, and once it became clear Ed wasn’t going to violently attack this man, he giggled.

“He’s my older brother, actually."

Kalvin blinked, then grinned lopsidedly. “Man, he must not like that, having such a tall younger brother. I know I wouldn’t.”

Al nodded, giggles softening as he fixed the blanket that had been tossed over Ed’s head. “Do you- do you have any pillows?” Al inquired, “I don’t think this position is good for his neck.”

Kalvin nodded, reaching back with one hand to grab at the seat behind them. “Yeah, I actually brought one,” he stated while revealing a small white cushion. “However…”

The conductor attempted to wiggle the pillow between Ed’s head and the armor, but the blonde wouldn't move, firmly attached to Al as a lifeline. He muttered in his sleep and swatted the cotton barrier away sluggishly.

“Thought so,” Kalvin laughed, taking the pillow back. “It looks like he’s already made his choice.”

If Al had a mouth, he was sure it’d be quirked up in a fond smile. His older brother saw him, felt him, and loved him no matter the form his soul took. Yes, humanity was a delicate line to tread, but the only opinion that truly mattered to Al on the subject was his older brother’s.

Ed overworked himself to help Al feel warmth once more. Al couldn’t doubt his own existence, his humanity, because that meant doubting his faith in Ed.

He would never betray his brother’s trust like that.

“Your neck is going to regret this when you wake up,” Al sighed to his sleeping sibling, shifting Ed so the latter was propped up against his leg, blanket draped his curled form.

Kalvin patted Al on the shoulder before turning to leave, and flashed him one last smirk before loud shoes clicked along the floor.

“You’re a good brother, Kid!” He said before disappearing to another car.

Was he? Al hummed quietly to himself while playing with his brother’s aray hair, twirling it around a large finger. He hoped he was.

“I don’t deserve you.” Ed had told him faintly one night. “You’re the best goddamn little brother in the universe.”

No matter how hard he gripped, his hands couldn’t feel anything, not one jolt of familiar warmth. All he wanted in this desperate moment was to hug his older brother, and bury his face into the crook of Ed’s neck as he always did when they were kids. They still were.

Letting the golden locks fall from his finger, he told himself to wait. Al trusted his brother, unequivocally, undeniably. He would wait until the day he could feel his brother’s warm hugs again, and be able to hug back just as tight.

Al had always been the more patient one between them, after all.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had turned down his beloved Gracia’s apple pie. It was devastating, quite frankly, to the person who rejected the best goddamn pie in this entire universe.

The teen was sitting on his couch, staring at a half-full cup of water as if it was the greatest alchemic breakthrough of the century, gaze unwavering and unblinking. It was a bit scary, if Maes was honest, but what could he say?

Alchemists. They were some weird people.

“Hey,” he said. Ed jumped, glass almost slipping out of his hand. He whipped his head around, startled like a wild animal.

“Oh, it’s you.” The boy slumped, sinking back into the couch. “Whaddya want?”

“Nothing much,” Maes clarified. “I just noticed you barely touched dinner tonight. You okay?”

The blonde scoffed loudly, covering his eyes with his arm. “Yeah I’m fine. Peachy. Is that all?”

Ed may be a master in deflection, but nothing could top a father’s instinct. And that instinct was screaming at Maes it’s not fine, talk to him.

“There’s still apple pie left, if you want it. Gracia’s recipe is the best, obviously! So why don’t you grab a piece-”

“No offense Hughes,” Ed snapped, interrupting him mid- tangent, “But I don’t care about apple pie.”

Maes eyed the boy critically, taking in his bloodshot eyes and pale skin. The past week the younger had been swallowed by research, in a desperate decoding of Doctor Marcoh’s notes. He had watched as the optimistic hope that had graced Ed’s youthful features deteriorated over the days. Eagerness dwindled into despondency, that spark of hope no longer ignited.

“Well, you have to eat something. You’ve been starving yourself, haven’t you?” The man asked casually, dropping down next to Ed.

The younger groaned, tired eyes glaring holes into the ceiling. “Can’t you just leave it alone?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t” Hughes gave him a sympathetic smile. “Is there any reason you haven’t been eating?”

“What are you, my fucking therpist?” Ed muttered, annoyed. “No, there’s absolutely no reason, I just randomly decided to starve myself,” he grouched sarcastically. “Sides’, I’m not starving myself. I ate dinner tonight.”

“If two slices of bread counts as dinner, then sure.”

“It does!” Ed defended, sitting up with a bounce. “I’m just not hungry.”

His stomach growled.

Maes raised a brow. The boy glowered at his own stomach as if it betrayed him in the worst possible way. The air was thick with heavy silence patiently waiting to be shattered.

“It’s, it’s not-” Ed relented finally, sighing into the open room. “It’s not going well, the research that is. I was so hopeful in the beginning, I was so stupidly naive to think it would hold all the answers, I…” he took a deep breath, angry eyes fixated on the carpet. “Al n I haven’t finished decoding it, but from the direction it’s headed…”

“You’re not sure if you want the answers,” Maes acknowledged, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. And to his surprise, he didn’t pull away.

“Yeah. Now Al’s gonna lose even more faith, and I keep promising him I’ll get his body back, but…” Ed’s lip trembled with the slightest twitch, “What if I don’t? The philosopher's stone was supposed to be this light at the end of the tunnel, and now it’s like the tunnel caved in completely.” The last part was spoken in a repressed whisper, quiet and resigned.

“That bad?” Maes asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Even worse” Ed responded, running a stressed hand through loose hair. But, s’not like this is my first time dealing with shitty disappointments. I’m one of those myself, afte-”

“Ed,” Maes cut in firmly, looking the boy in his eyes. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

The blonde blinked, then smirked grimly.

“Yeah alright, sorry. Coping mechanisms, y’know?” he laughed hollowly. “I guess that’s what me not eating and sleeping is. I mean, if Al might not ever get to eat then why should I get that luxury? I shouldn’t, and that’s the fucked up thing about it. And I know what you’re gonna say, you should sleep and eat for Al’s sake, Ed! You can’t expect to get your brother’s body back on an empty stomach, and exhaustion is only gonna wear you down! And I know that. You think I don’t? I’m not stupid, I know. I know, but... ”

Maes let the boy yell his frustrations out, and watched as Ed’s face twisted up into misery, finally getting out all those bottled emotions he was sure welled in the teen’s mind. All the man could see was how young the boy was, too young.

“It’s not that simple,” Ed finally said. “I dunno why, but even though I know I should sleep more, eat more, I just can’t. I hate it.”

“It’s not simple at all,” Maes agreed. And the silence came once again, looming over as dark clouded sky.

His back cracked with a snap as he stretched, funny how getting up from the couch wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Ha, he sounded like an old man, Roy would get a kick out of that. Ed shot him a bewildered look as the man reached his hand out.

“Your cup is only half- full,” Maes clarified as he took the glass, “I’ll refill it for you.”

While he was in the kitchen, he quickly grabbed Gracia’s pie from the counter. Ed frowned when Maes walked back to the couch, sitting shoulder to shoulder with the young boy.

“Do you know how Lieutenant Hawkeye got her dog?” Maes asked, cutting two slices of the pie then setting them down on plates.

“Black Hayate?” Ed questioned, eyeing the baked goods out of the corner of his eyes. “No, I never asked. And why’d you bring that pie over?”

“It’s quite a tale, I can tell you that. And while I tell you the story,” he reached out to hand a plate to Ed, who took it hesitantly, “you can sit back and relax, maybe take a few bites of the pie if you feel up for it.”

It was a tactic he used with Elicia. Whenever his daughter was sick, or just stubbornly refusing to cooperate, a good story seemed to lull her into a trance. He only hoped no matter the years of anguish Ed had experienced in his short life, in his soul he was still a kid. A living human weapon of unrefined potential, but a kid nonetheless.

And it worked. Low and behold, Ed took a small bite listening to how Roy and his crew dug up half the warehouse looking for bones. They only increased, as Ed seemed to unconsciously nibble on his wife’s pie while hearing the rest of the story, until his slice was halfway finished. Maes didn’t think the boy even realized himself, with eyelids drooping down weightily.

So he kept talking, telling Ed random stories he remembered, excitindly recounting each event with softened enthusiasm. It was only halfway through his retelling of how he and Gracia became engaged did Maes realize the lump resting on his side was steadily breathing, fast asleep.

A gentle expression formed across Maes’ face as he settled in for the night, fully content with sleeping on the couch in order to keep Ed from waking up. It was then he realized Gracia was standing underneath the door frame holding a blanket and pillow. She was such a godsend, an angel from heaven.

He made sure to tell her this as he took the fabric and swaddled Ed in it, careful to not jolt him awake.

The look on Ed’s face wasn’t peaceful, but wasn’t twisted in agony either, and Maes would take what he could get.

He would keep trying for the boy’s sake, discreetly slipping pastries into his travel suitcase. He wasn’t sure if Ed would even eat it, but he wouldn’t stop.

Maes had all the time in the world to help him, after all. It wasn’t like he was constantly travelling, like Ed was. He’d always be there, waiting for both boys to crash reluctantly at his place.

He didn’t know what those boys would find out tomorrow, the secrets of an ominous stone that forced Marcoh to flee the military. It could be devastating, a terrifying thing described in horrific detail, and the brothers would read every last sentence. Even so, he would never lose faith in Ed’s perseverance, in Ed’s love for his brother.

And just as the younger had said, it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t simple. It was damn near impossible trying to endure it all alone, although that’s what he was trying to do. All Maes could do was offer his home, his arms, his support whenever the boys were in town, and give his unconditional care, always.

And when Ed and Al got their bodies back, beautiful and whole, he would be the first in line to finally hug them both.

He was an odd one, that’s for sure. If there was something he and Greed both agreed with, it would be that.

“Dammit!”

Soot and dirt covered his clothes as he delivered a coordinated kick to the assailants gut. The other man lurched back, stumbling across the clearing.

There were more than he expected in this group, ranging from burly beards to scrawny frames, the enemy had them surrounded.

Even so, Ed just continued to obliviously sleep on.

This ‘expedition’ travelling around Amestris had exposed many sides of Edward that Ling had never anticipated seeing. Like how he could braid his hair in under 10 seconds, how often he mumbled under his breath, or maybe how he always slept with his shirt hiked up so those glorious muscles could be displayed for the whole world. And he slept a lot.

Cut to now. His small figure curled in the ragged sleeping bag, snoring away while the rest of his (three) friends fought off a group of thieves.

There had been increased reports of people getting robbed in the east, but it wasn’t like they had anything worthy to steal. Darius and Heinkel had maybe 1,000 cenz to their names, Greed surprisingly packed light, Ling was literally trapped inside his own body, and Ed… well…

“The boy! Give us his automail and we’ll let you go free!”

Ah.

There was an agreed murmur from the group of thieves, some nodding their heads while others jeered. One man at the front, presumably the leader (he didn’t really know, quite frankly they all looked like idiots), pointed a finger. “We saw you walking around town today. That boy was practically begging us to steal it, I mean, why else would you not bother to hide it?”

Like he said. Idiots.

Stroking a badly shaved mustache, another man spoke up. “I’ve dabbled in automail a bit myself, but I've never seen anything like that. It must be worth something, no?”

“It’s worth nothing,” Heinkel shrugged, hand hovering over the gun holstered to his hip. “Literally nothing. You don’t want it anyways, it belongs to a teenage boy.”

He visibly shuddered.

“Who knows the things a teenager does with his automail” Darius mused, crossing his arms. “Just think, what did you do at 16?”

Many started to visibly pale. “Sixteen? I thought he was like, twelve?!”

“Yeah!” Ling piped up, much to the horror of the enemy. “One day, it was a bright sunny evening, until I walked in-”

“Boss!” One of the men shrieked, tugging on his ‘bosses’ sleeve. “Are you- are, are you positive this is a good idea? I mean when I was a teen… well-”

“Shut up Tommy!” The ‘boss’ screamed, slapping ‘Tommy’s’ hand away. “They’re just making excuses, and we won’t fall for the… Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” He yelled after those who discreetly attempted to slink away.

“This is so pathetic.” Greed sighed from where he was cozied in Ling’s mind. “I let you take over for one day and this is what happens.”

“It wasn’t my fault this happened,” Ling retorted. “We’ll just beat up the remaining thieves and be on our merry way!”

“They really think they can steal my possessions?” Greed scoffed. “Don't make me laugh.”

“It’s Ed’s automail,” Ling pointed out.

He could feel eyes roll around his skull. “Yeah, and he’s my lackey. His stuff is my stuff.”

An arm nudged him. “Once you’re done having a conversation with yourself, we should probably take care of these guys,” Darius motioned towards the thieves who had indeed not been scared off at the prospect of a teenage boy.

Heinkel snorted as he readied his fists. “I doubt we’ll need firepower for these morons.”

“Yo- you guys should be scared of us” a man shouted, pulling a pocket knife from his back pocket. “We’ll rip that automail right from his shoulder!”

He knew Ed was a heavy sleeper, but he was really pushing it sleeping through this.

“I’m terrified!” Ling smiled at them.

Shaky warcries tore across the battlefield as the thieves all ran at once. Half of them looked utterly terrified, but they were doing their best.

They say strength is in numbers, however these numbers didn’t mean much if each individual was weaker than a flimsy noodle. They were.

And honestly, Ling was tired. It was rare he ever got a chance to sleep sharing a body with a homunculus, even on the occasions he did have control. Al knew this feeling all too well for the past four years, and Ling found his respect for the younger grow massively in these past months. His drowsy half- assed punches did the job, despite the yawn threatening to escape his throat.

Looking back at it, Ling bertated himself for not being more attentive. It was only after a frantic Greed pounded through his brain ‘shit!’ that he realized guns had been pulled by the leader and a few others. The barrel of the gun, a straight aim on Ed’s sleeping figure.

That familiar sensation he felt whenever they switched consciousness tingled throughout his body, this time however it was rough and uncoordinated. Greed barely managed to throw himself in front of Ed with his shield before a resounding bang echoed throughout the clearing. Granted, the shot was extremely off, but still managed to send the scurry into frenzied chaos.

More shots rang through the air. It was hard to tell which group they were coming from as the chimera’s had their guns raised as well, eyes narrowed in a once- soldier like glare. Judging from the screams rippling through the air, it was safe to say they were winning in accuracy.

“Dammit Ling, stop trying to take over!” Greed shouted, running faster.

“Ed, you have to get him!” Ling said, voice tight with worry.

“I know that!” Greed yelled in frustration, “little shit, almost getting killed in his sleep.”

“Wake him up then!” The Xingese prince shrieked as the ultimate shield blocked another bullet.

“There’s no time,” Greed proclaimed, finally reaching Ed’s sleeping bag. He yanked the blonde over his shoulder, and ran in the direction of the leader, Ed’s head bouncing against his shoulder with every stride.

“We’re supposed to be running away from the guns, Greed!” The prince’s words only increased in volume as they got closer. Most of the masses seemed to be huddled around their leader, shakily holding weapons in hand. Take out the leader and the lackeys fall, and Greed had a plan for that.

“Hey you! Bossman!” Greed announced as the whole clearing turned to look at him. “You really want this boy’s automail?”

The boss turned to him, a dumbfounded expression molded into one of confused anger. “Yeah, I thought that was pretty fucking obvious. One of our men lost his arm, and automail is pricey as hell. Forgive us for taking advantage of this golden opportunity.”

“Oh?” Greed smirked as if he had correctly baited his desired fish, hook, line and sinker. “Are you sure this automail is right? I mean, does it look like it’ll fit your man?”

Out of the corner of his eye, the chimeras both backed up, Darius biting his lip in order not to smile.

“Ah.” Ling said. “So this is your ‘ingenious’ plan.”

“It is ingenious,” Greed defended.

The leader scrunched his nose at the question. “Well, that’s why we have Max over there, he does automail. We’d have to tweak it because your kid it pretty sma-”

The leader, the poor fellow, didn’t even get to finish his sentence before a fist slammed into his jaw and sent him flying across the grass.

“What the fuc-”

Greed didn’t consider himself to be like his family at all, but he had to admit seeing these humans get beat up was pretty satisfying. The leader has hightailed it out of there, so it wouldn’t be long before the rest followed.

“No, no wait, no please-”

A rumble shook the earth that had terrified screams following, and Greed sighed.

“You deal with this,” he announced, and kicked Ling back into his own body.

It was definitely apparent he had just woken up, from tostled hair framing his face to the drool line on the left of his chin. Ed yawned as the last of the thieves scurried away to god knows where. He made eye contact with Ling and shuffled over.

“Wha happ’nd” he muttered, wiping at his eyes. “I just had the weirdest dream.”

“You don’t remember beating up, like, 20 guys?” Ling narrowed his eyes. Ed looked confused, a frown tugging his lips.

“Uh, no?”

“You… I can’t believe you” Ling groaned into his hands. “I can’t tell if I wanna punch or kiss you right now, or both.”

“How about neither?” Ed shrugged, dusting the dirt off his clothes. “I doubt you could do either very well.”

“Hey,” Ling frowned. “I’m a great fighter, I'll have you know.”

"A bad kisser then?"

A hand found itself residing on the top of Ed’s head. Darius. “If you boys are done flirting, help Heinkel in packing everything up.”

“Packing?” Ed tilted his head quizzidly, “I thought this was a pretty nice camping spot.” He paused. “And we’re not flirting.”

“Yeah,” Ling piped up, ignoring the last sentence, “why don’t we just stay here?”

Darius chuckled, a dark cloud forming in his eyes.

“Oh no,” he said, his hand tightening around Ed’s head. “I don’t care if we use all of our food money, hell, even our emergency stash. We’re staying in hotels from now on, no exceptions.”

Nobody really knew what was happening.

Soldiers ran around the field with no end objective, puppets whose strings had just been completely severed. Some celebrated in victory, others cried in agony for those who had been lost. Many were cold unmoving corpses speckling the concrete a startling crimson. It was pure, unadulterated chaos that spread like wildfire, violent flames of distress carried through the wind and breathed into malnourished throats.

Smoke billowed from the destroyed command center, men still trapped underneath rubble begging for relief, anything to alleviate their pain. There seemed to be no man without an injury, all rushing to the hospital with varying severities of emergency.

For how united they had all been a minute ago, a swarm of selfish realization swept through the crowd now that the immediate threat had gone. Soldiers once held on a strict leash were now unchained, high on the giddy ecstasy of freedom.

It wouldn't last long. After all the initial commotion dwilded out, these men would once again strap themselves to the confinement militaristic hierarchy.

Izumi could give two shits about these soldiers, not even. The hospitals would be overwhelmed with patients due to incompetence in handling minor scrapes and bruises; Honestly, if you dislocated a shoulder, just pop it back in. It always worked for her.

She was surrounded by military dogs, hospitals, and untimely death. The thought of all this left a sickly sweet tang on her tongue, and she desperately wanted to leave this battlefield and never come back.

The only thing that made her unwaveringly stay were two people she held dearly, two ex- students who had made her heart burst with unexplainable emotions within the last hour.

Still reeling from the fight with Father, the boys sat shoulder to shoulder sitting on the grass turf that overlooked Central City. They looked out of place in the frantic puddle of distorted voices and bloodied soldiers. Though they weren’t any less bloodied themselves, both Ed and Al looked serenely content.

Ed caught Izumi’s eye first, waving her over with an uncharacteristic laugh. Al followed his brother’s gaze, a delicate smile lighting up his bony jaw, and god did she miss that smile.

Her steps were brisk and delbrite as she strode over to the grass, tuning out useless background chatter that annoyingly hummed in her ear. Her ears were meant for much better uses: listening to Al as he excitedly opened his mouth to speak.

“Teacher!” He exclaimed, his voice horse from limited use, yet still earnest as it’d always been. “I was wondering where you were! You aren’t hurt, are you? Because I’m pretty sure the hospitals are full but-”

“I’m alright” Izumi interjected, meeting his newly golden orbs with a soft smirk. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Yeah Al, worry about yourself,” Ed implored, sending a stern ‘I'm your older brother I know best’ glare towards his brother. “We need to get you to a hospital. Look at you, you can barely walk!”

Al rolled his eyes. “That’s what happens when you don’t have a body for five years, genius. And besides, I feel fine. Amazing, actually!”

“That has nothing to do with what I’m saying!” Ed spluttered, looking towards Izumi for help.

“Look around us brother,” Al said, eyes roaming around the disorganized masses. “Getting to the hospital now is almost impossible. Let's just wait a bit for things to die down.”

“Die down? I doubt that’ll happen soon, and besides! What if something happens to you now, huh? What if, what if-”

Izumi raised a placating hand, and both boys silenced to turn with questioning stares. “One hour,” she declared. “We wait one hour, and if nothing’s changed by then, I'll make us a path.”

Ed blanched. “What do you mean by ‘make us a path’-”

“Perfect!” Al agreed, and when Ed whipped around to protest, he took the older’s hands in his. “That’s okay, right? It’s so warm out, after all. I haven’t felt this warm since... ever.” He finished wistfully, “It’s incredible.”

Izumi watches as Ed’s facade softened to silk, tender and flexible. It went against the physical laws of the universe for him to deny his little brother when Al spoke like that.

“Okay, fine.” He relented, squeezing Al’s hands gently. “One hour, nothing more.”

Al was hardly listening however, staring down at their intertwined hands with transparent glee. “Your hands,” he breathed softly. “I can feel them. I can feel them.”

Ed melted.

“Yeah, yeah you can,” he choked back, “I can feel your’s too. God, they’re so tiny.”

If it were anyone else, Izumi would’ve felt like she was intruding. But these were her boys, and they made no move to indicate she wasn’t wanted there. Al turned to her, eyes glassier than before, and reached out hesitantly with one hand.

She pushed back her own tears and gently grabbed past his hand to pull him into a firm hug. “Idiot, you don’t even need to ask.”

Al’s muffled sniffle waned through the air as he burrowed his head in the crook of her neck, relishing in every new sensation that danced through his electric body. Both woman and child were clinging desperately, as if the other would disappear from under their grasp.

Ed smiled fondly, watching the scene with scarcely concealed affection. A yelp escaped his startled throat as a strong hand reached out to grab his shirt, pulling him into an equally unyielding hug. Izumi sighed warmly as she rested her palms on the backs of both her ex- student’s head’s, fingers raking through messied hair.

“You guys are so warm,” Al gasped, “How is that possible?”

Ed gave a watery chuckle. “It might be the adrenaline. I’m pretty wiped out from that last fight.”

“Oh yeah!” Al exclaimed sharply, still muffled into Izumi’s shoulder. “You still haven’t told me what happened when my soul left the armor. How’d you beat that guy anyway?”

Ed stiffened. “I dont- I don’t remember much of it to be honest.” A lie. She wondered if Al knew that too.

“Oh, okay then. You can tell me later.” He knew.

The sun’s radiant glower thrust upon the earth was sinking, hiding behind lanky mountains and tall buildings. That same sun that shone without a care was almost used to conquer the world, and she couldn’t hold back the involuntary shudder that racked through her body at it’s sight. She would need to fix that, it wasn’t as if she could ignore such an entity that was the sun, nor cringe whenever she caught it’s gaze.

However there was something newly majestic about the star, a newfound appreciation for the power it truly held over tiny, incomparable humans.

The lower the sun sank, Al’s body mirrored it’s droop, his movements languid and drowsy. He was falling asleep, Izumi realized with a chuckle.

Slowly, she maneuvered her position so both boys rested the back of their heads on her shoulders, admiring the flurry of colors across the brilliant sunset. It was striking how beautiful the sky could be surrounded by bereavement. That was the allure of the universe, however, in it’s disregard to stop for anyone and anything, a timeless vessel.

All is one, one is all.

“Al!” a panicked voice turned her head towards it’s culprit, Ed. “Al, are you okay?”

The younger blonde had his eyes tightly closed, body comepelty slack against Izumi’s side, breaths coming out in even, subdued wisps.

“Relax, Edward,” she said soothingly. “He fell asleep. Let’s let him rest.”

Ed still looked as if he wanted to hysterically shake Al awake, but he nodded. “I’ll watch over him, until it’s time to move.”

“Yeah right,” Izumi rejected firmly, whacking his head. “You look just about the same as your brother. You need to sleep too, so get to it.”

“I can’t just sleep now!” Ed argued, shaking his head. “What if something happens to him while I’m asleep?”

She whacked him once more. “Stupid idiot! Do you really think I’d let anything happen to Al?”

He paused, gaze drifting towards his younger brother. “No... but…he’s so fragile now, teacher.”

“Edward,” she hushed, a placating hand coming to rest on his head. “He just got back from the gate, it’s going to take time before he’s strong again. But look at him, Ed, back and magnificently whole. You did it. You got his body back.”

The sun was completely blotted out, the silhouette of Central City brightly shining against the darkened sky.

“Al did most of the work,” he muttered, but the crinkle of his eyes told stories of immeasurable euphoria. “Wha’ bout getting to the hospital?”

His body was getting heavier against her shoulder, and he weakly fought against his body's fatigue. One more push.

“I’ll take care of that,” she soundly reassured. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yeah…” came the almost undetectable whisper. “I do.”

She watched as his eyes fluttered shut, breathing matching his brother’s steadily.

Her stomach filled with warmth, and she felt like claiming the world in all it’s glory as a loving gift for these boys, tied with a ribbon made from her own heartstrings.

All is one, one is all.

It was so easy to say this in relation to the world, in spectrum to the ways in which time passes, uncaring.

But these boys, loudmouthed and arrogant in their own right, who broke every rule she ever gave him, distorted her view.

She understood now why so many alchemists were reluctant to have children.

One is all, all is one.

Edward’s frame curled into himself, muttering something incoherently, and attempted to bury himself deeper in her shoulder.

The world works in magnitudes she couldn’t even begin to understand; The cycle of life, the endless flow of time that stops for no one. There can be no ‘all’ without the individual ‘ones’.

But the universe had gaping holes in it’s laws, as Izumi would gladly accept these two boys as her entire ‘all.’ There would be no force strong enough, not even the laws that govern this land, that would keep her from holding onto every precious grain of protection she could offer to her boys.

“I swear to god Fullmetal, if you do that one more time-”

“You’ll what? You wouldn’t hurt a poor, defenseless, innocent civilian now would you?”

“If you keep poking me, I'll fry you for assaulting a military officer.”

“I could report you for threatening a minor!”

Loud hospital chatter streamed through tiny cracks in the wooden door, muddled and strained like it had been for the past week. Nurses and doctors overloaded with work scampered down the corridors, frantic yells drowned out by the demands of visitors and patients. One nudge of the door and overwhelming commotion would be thrust upon the unlucky victim, which was why admitted patients never bothered to go outside their rooms.

For Roy, this worked out perfectly. Since the promised day he had been stuck in a hospital bed, fretted over by nurses and a guilty Hawkeye. No matter how many times he told Riza it wasn’t her fault, he knew every crack and crevice of her voice, especially when she was lying.

Still. Her presence, although not seen, was a comforting constant that hummed in the depths of his mind, and he really did appreciate her company as a hospital roommate. She knew him best after all. They could sit in silence for hours without it being uncomfortable.

Roy trusted her. At the very least, he knew nothing could happen to him while she was around. Especially with how he didn’t even have the decency to defend himself, not when he couldn’t see. He would never see anything again, except for a staticed black wall and the distorted white figure with a haunting, plaguing smile.

Those thoughts left him physically winded, all the air he had tried to suck in seemingly disappeared once it touched his throat. He was choking on nothing, yet there was a tangible something that stifled his breath. Sometimes, he woke up damp with a scream lodged in his throat, so maybe that scream was the clog. It was infuriating; he never knew why he woke up in a panic, and couldn’t even see his dreams.

Roy didn’t know how many days had passed since that day. He never bothered to ask in the beginning, and now he was too scared. A shitty coward. His world felt unaligned.

It was probably unhealthy, trapping himself in his own mental prison, extending his blindness to every inch of his body. Riza had brought it up multiple times, imploring him to take action. Each time he would nod, and genuinely try, but it never stuck.

It became even worse when she was relocated. The hospitals in central, especially the military buildings, were packed with patients. Roy had only gotten them a private room due to his status, and the severity of their injuries. Now, for lower priority cases, sharing a room with multiple people was very common, the closer you got to a release date.

Roy still had his own room as a colonel, but yesterday the doctors informed him that he was to expect a roommate.

It was just his luck to be stuck with one Edward Elric.

Ed had protested just as much as he did, until the doctors lowered their voices and began talking to him in hushed arguments. Not being able to see what was happening grew a painful pit in his stomach.

He heard the former alchemist growl before the clank of his automail was heard against the floor. There was a loud thump, which Roy assumed to be Ed throwing his tiny body onto the bed next to his. He was gifted an annoyed "goodnight, bastard" before light snores filled the open air.

He hadn’t even known it was nighttime yet, but judging by Ed’s apparent slumber it had to be. However the kid fell asleep anywhere and anytime, so it could’ve been noon for all he knew. He also noted begrudgingly, Hawkeye never snored.

It was hard for Roy to differentiate the discrepancy between being asleep and awake, especially in the beginning. Even now, he struggled to realize if Ed pacing around the Hospital room at ass o’clock was real. If it was a nightmare, it was an annoying one, with Ed's metal leg clanging like an insistent alarm clock.

“Sorry,” Ed had surprisingly offered when Roy asked what he was doing. Probably not a dream, but it felt like once with Fullmetal actually apologizing. “I’m just antsy, I guess. Al’s sick again, which is why they moved me to your dumb room. They said his body’s most likely strong enough to create antibodies, so it should be alright. Most likely? Wha- what if that promise of most likely falls through and it all goes wrong?”

It was a bombardment of emotions Roy was not ready for, and it took some time for him to fully digest what Ed was saying. He had felt Al briefly the day he came back from the gate, and the boy had been all skin and bones under Roy’s careful fingers. Even when the younger wrapped him in a surprising hug, Roy hugged back with caution akin to delicate glass.

“The doctors know what they’re doing, Fullmetal. Quit being a worrywart and sit down.”

Ed’s foot, which had been tapping anxiously against the floor, stopped.

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“You can’t call me Fullmetal anymore. I’m not an alchemist,” he said monotonously.

Ah.

“It’s not so much an alchemist title as it is a nickname, Fullmetal,” and oh did Roy want to see his expression right about now. “A bratty nickname for a bratty subordinate.”

A yell of rage filled the air and Roy genuinely laughed for the first time since… well he didn’t know when.

“I hate you,” Ed said. And for a second, the world was aligned.

The small talk continued, Ed excitedly chattering about Al and the progress he had made. “Did you know he can eat again? Small portions, of course, but his face when he ate chocolate again!... And teacher smuggled in a cat once his immune system was going strong, he almost strangled the poor cat to death by accident… he can walk with a cane now!”

Al was doing an incredible job at recovery, which he deserved in Roy’s opinion. He was even up and walking- more than what Roy had done. His feet hadn’t touched the ground except to use the bathroom, which he always dreaded.

“That’s amazing Ed, I really am happy for you two. Hopefully you two can go home soon, and leave this-” he gestured around the room with his hand “-behind. With the rate Al’s going it’ll be soon. I mean, he’s probably taller than you now, right?”

Ed had been silently listening until that last line, and Roy’s lip twerked up in anticipation.

Hands slammed down onto his hospital bed, narrowly missing his legs. “Bastard! That’s not true at all! I’m almost as tall as you now, and I’m gonna surpass you!”

Roy scoffed.

“Please, just because I don’t have my sight doesn’t mean you can trick me. I know you’re lying to me.”

“You- you- you fucking-”

“But honestly, what else would I expect from a poor, defenseless, short civilian?”

“ASSHOLE!” Came the enraged reply, and Roy jolted as two calloused hands yanked his own. He stumbled into an admittedly (tallish) sturdy frame and felt the shocking sensation of bare feet colliding with the floor.

He was standing.

“See!” Edward triumphed, oblivious to the bile racing up Roy’s throat as his whole body lurched upwards for the first time in many days. “I’m super tall now, asshole.”

“You realize you’re implying that you were once a pipsqueak,” Roy replied absentmindedly, ignoring the fog clouding his distressed mind. “In which case, you would be correct.”

“Say that again and I'll beat your ass” Ed retorted bitingly, “I swear colonel, just you wait-”

The boy cut himself off. After a beat of silence he hesitantly placed a hand on Roy's shoulder, “hey, are you okay?”

The black haired man swallowed nothing, and took a sharp intake of air. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine, why?”

“You’re shaking.”

Roy hadn’t even noticed. He attempted to figure out which part of his body betrayed his facade, but it was useless. It might’ve been his entire body, not that he’d ever ask Ed if that was correct.

“Should I call a doctor?” Ed asked, voice laced with confused concern. It was startling to hear that worried tone directed towards anyone but Al.

“No,” Roy replied, shrugging off Ed’s hands. “I’m just… cold is all.”

“Cold” Ed repeated dubiously. “It’s pretty warm here to me.”

Roy used his hand to find his bed. “Drop it, Fullmetal,” he ordered in his usual authoritative tone, although it lacked conviction. He heard it, and was sure Ed did too.

It was silence only broken by the rustling of sheets as Roy tried to navigate himself back onto his bed, confined to self isolation once more. Honestly, it was a good thing he couldn’t see Ed’s expression about now, and the disappointed stare that would burn hotter than his own fire.

He had begun to hoist himself up onto the mattress when the same hands grabbed him once more, and tugged him away. Roy stumbled across the cold floor, each step he took sent shivers up his spine, and lurched his throat. Ed’s grip was strong and unwavering, yet also surprisingly warm. It was only then he realized he felt both of Ed’s hands, healthy and whole.

“Fullmetal. What are you doing?” Roy asked teresely, attempting to yank his hands away from Ed’s.

He heard a loud creak, and a gust of wind, and instantly knew what was going to happen. His whole body tensed, frozen.

“Fullmetal I swear, stop whatever you’re doing.” The chatter of the hospital echoed through his ears now that the door was open. It was an indistinguishable scramble of voices, one that was planting the seeds of a headache. “Close the door.”

“Okay,” Ed responded. Roy was tugged once more, and the door was closed with a click. Except the voices didn’t go away, but only grew stronger, fuzzier, louder.

“I meant,” Roy could feel annoyance exceeding his limit, “to close the door while we were still inside the room.”

“But that would defeat the whole purpose of getting up,” Ed responded, tone implying it was obvious. “Now c’mon, we can’t just stand here all day.”

Ed started to pull him away from his room, one he hadn’t left since he was admitted. He was out in the open, vulnerable and here for everyone to see. Who knew how many eyes were on him, and he couldn’t even tell. What if he stumbled over something and fell pathetically, or accidentally injured someone else?

“Ed,” he finally managed out, putting as much command into his voice as possible, “where are we going?”

He was worried he couldn’t hear Ed over the noise of the hospital, but the boy’s voice was strong and clear. “You’ll find out when we get there, idiot.”

Roy swallowed for what must have been the fiftieth time, attempting to push back the acid that coated his tongue as he spoke. “You can’t just kidnap me, Ed. You know I’m blind now, right? And-” he trailed off, stopping in his tracks, the floor shifting underneath his feet.

It was a sudden realization, the ground underneath him swayed violently, his balance thrown off as the voices suddenly swarmed through his brain, louder and louder and louderandlouderand-

“OW!” Roy yelped as fingers pinched both his hands. Ed’s grip tightened, fingers curling around his wrists, digging into flesh.

“Are you an idiot?” Ed yelled, and Roy wouldn’t be surprised if his volume attracted unwanted attention. “What does being blind have to do with walking? And it’s not a kidnapping” he muttered at the end.

“What does being blind have to do with walking? I can’t even see my own feet, let alone any obstacles in my way.”

“That’s why I'm here, dumbass. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Let me guide you instead of standing there like an idiot.”

The floor was still swaying, a vertigo laced wave of concrete that tilted with every second. Ed’s hands were latched onto his flesh, tight fists firmly reminding him where he was. Roy lifted one foot off the ground, white- hot flares traveled up from the soles of his foot to the back of his mouth. He hesitantly set his foot down in front. Nothing happened. The floor wasn’t moving, the chatter didn’t cease, his body didn’t tear itself apart. He was fine.

“See,” Ed said, and Roy swore he heard a smirk behind those words. “You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He took another step. Then another, and another. Ed’s hands didn’t leave him, steering him in the direction he needed to go. He was okay. Laughter clogged his throat, high pitched and disbelieving once it left his mouth.

“God, I feel like an idiot,” Roy laughed, his feet still padding across the hallway. “All this time I’ve been too afraid to even leave my bed, and it takes you of all people to knock some sense into me? I’m at a low, aren’t I?”

Wherever they were, it was quieter. The voices thrumming through his brain had begun to wane many steps back, until now only the occasional drifting sentence was heard. Even Roy’s own footsteps were light and barefooted, while Ed’s were louder yet still tentative. It made it easier to hear Ed’s voice echo through the halls.

“You are an idiot,” Ed agreed quietly, “but not because of that. It’s- I mean, I get it.” He paused, and stopped walking. “I did the same thing, after automail surgery. I was in so, so much pain and I-” he sucked in a breath unsteadily, slowly releasing Mustangs wrist’s.

“You don’t have to tell me, Ed” Roy stated, wrists already cold.

Hair whipped around in what he assumed to be a headshake. “No, I wanted to say this. You came to us with your offer, and I knew I would accept right away. I was so determined, but after going through rehabilitation, it was like that didn’t even matter anymore. It was just too much, the pain, and I felt like the unluckiest person in the world. It was Al who knocked me out of that slump, hearing him talk about how proud he was of me for braving through automail surgery. He reminded me why I did that in the first place, in order to help get his body back. I felt like such an asshole in that moment too,” he finished. “And I guess I just wanted to say I get it, feeling as if life could never get better.”

“Fullmetal,” Roy spoke, an undetectable emotion wavering in his words. “I-”

“We’re here” Ed cut him off, grabbing his hand and placing it against the brick wall. No wait, this wall felt thin and smooth, like glass.

“And where exactly is ‘here’?” Roy asked, incrementally raising a brow.

Ed tapped the older alchemist’s hand, then rested his own hand against the glass. “Behind this glass is Al’s room, so visitors can see him without having to go inside. He’s inside right now, looking at the window.”

Roy felt his hand tighten on the glass. “In case your tiny brain has forgotten already, I can’t see him, considering my blindness.”

“M’not small” came the growled reply. “I’m not brain dead either, bastard. I didn’t make you come here for you, I made you come here for Al.” Ed rapped on the glass loudly. “Hey Al! Look who finally unstuck their ass from bed!”

It felt a bit silly, Ed talking to seemingly nothing. But he knew Ed wouldn’t joke about something like this, so Roy let a small smile grace his lips for Al to hopefully see.

“He’s smiling at you, by the way,” Ed affirmed. “These damn walls are too thick, I can barely hear what he’s saying.”

The thought of a golden- haired boy, young and newly fleshed with a grin as radiant as his brother’s did make Roy’s smile grow, and he offered a small wave. It was an incredible moment, no doubt, but Roy wished he could just see Al with his own eyes.

“And I’m- that’s so...happy” a faint voice came through the doorway, muffled by the thick walls that subdued Al’s words. Roy tried, but he couldn’t make out a full sentence.

“I know right!” But apparently Ed could hear his brother loud and clear, responding with unwavering enthusiasm. “He walked all the way here,” the boy nudged at him playfully, “Aren’t you proud of him?”

This time, Roy heard the response. Just four words, but it made his throat clog up for an entirely different reason.

“Yes! That’s amazing, colonel!”

Ed pried his hand off the glass. “Alright, alright. We should probably let him rest. I only bothered cause’ he’s been asking about you non-stop lately.”

“Is that so?” Roy asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible. “I’ll be sure to visit him in the future.”

“You better!” Ed agreed, taking Roy’s hands once more. “Now c’mon, let’s go back to the bed you love so much.”

The walk back was still shaky, but felt more and more natural with every step he took. The voices that slowly increased swarmed around his brain in insistent hums, and he figured it would take a while before that would ever become normal. But he would keep trying, keep pushing through the walls he had created with his own bare hands.

The door creaked open and closed once more as Roy climbed onto his bed, instantly relaxing in its confinement.

“You have a goal too, don’t you?” Ed piped up suddenly, “and promises you made to other people. Including me.”

“That I do,” Roy responded quietly, eyes set in a determined stare. “I intended to keep those promises, so you should begin worrying about losing 520 cens.”

Ed ‘hmphed’ in satisfaction.

The rest of the day went by the quickest it had ever gone, with Roy continuously bouncing out ideas both verbally and in his mind, reaching to find solutions to issues that were once dismissible with his sight. He thought over apologies to his team as well, Hawkeye and Hughes especially. He’d have someone help him to the cemetery soon.

“It’s nice to see you’re not being a lazy bastard anymore,” Ed had told him right before they settled in to sleep, “but don’t overexert yourself, you can’t fix everything in one day.”

That’s rich coming from you, Roy thought. The kid who wouldn’t rest until his research was complete.

Lying in his bed that night, Ed’s still soft snores floating around the air, Roy slipped out from under the covers. His feet touched the ground with a lurch, and he doubted that would go away anytime soon. Slowly placing one foot in front of the other, Roy walked without help. The walls around him were closing and closing, shrinking, just focus on putting one foot in front of the other- the floor ripping itself apart-

He crashed into another bed, bracing himself on the it’s railing. He stood there for a few seconds, it could’ve been minutes, before nodding to himself. He did it.

Cautiously, he reached out a hand. He flinched when it came in contact with something, that something being skin. Ed’s breathing was steady, and mirrored Riza’s when she was asleep. Roy was sure the boy had to be slumbering away, lost in his own dreams.

He let his palm rest on Ed’s shoulder, thumb rubbing up and down the skin. To be quite honest, Roy didn’t exactly know why he was here, but it felt right. Awkward, but right.

He moved his hand up, tracing the skin until he found the boy’s cheek. Cupping it in one hand, he sighed.

“Stubborn,” he said fondly. “You’re so goddamn stubborn, that heart of yours is probably made fullmetal.” He let his hand linger on the boy’s cheek before slowly removing it, readying himself for the journey back. He made it one step before turning his head back, a genuine smile playing at his lips.

“Thank you.”

He supposed a warmer day would have been less chilling, but the stagnant autumn air wrapped around his limbs in an embrace that could be deemed comforting.

As he made his way down the dead leaved pathway, burning acid tore into his stomach, climbing its way up his dry throat. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while, not since the day he saw Al’s beautiful human body surrounded by those who loved him, and his little brother physically smiled at him, too big on his frail jawline but gorgeous nonetheless.

He wanted to relish in that ecstasy forever. Little by little, the intal joy of getting Al his body back had faded into content normalcy- as if they were young again, running around these very same hills without a care in the world, without battled- hardened scars that left crevices in both body and mentality.

Innocence truly was bliss, however ignorance is what caused Ed’s overconfidence to begin with when he was too young, so naive to wish for his mother’s warmth.

And maybe now, settling back into a sense of uniformity, he can finally learn to forgive himself.

If he were to come full circle however, he needed to do this.

The dried leaves underneath his feet were waning in quantity, the crunching caused by his steps became softer and softer. Clearly, someone wanted to keep this entrance looking as unsullied as possible. It was almost charming.

He had chosen this particular date and time to ensure the least amount of traffic. It was reassuring to know he wasn’t alone, however he wanted to do this by himself with no outside influences, just two men and the autumn air.

Walking down a familiar pathway, the searing in his gut only intensified. With every step he took, he became closer and closer to the very thing he avoided for so long.

This part of the cemetery was lusciously green, rolling hills cascading across uneven land. He remembers choosing this spot for his mother to rest, thinking the flora that grew around patches of grass would comfort her when he left. The flowers were golden yellow, budding around the gravestone with intertwined stems.

Before, visiting his mother’s grave would bring him nothing but the ‘what ifs’ that agonized his grieving mind. Now it sang a softer melody, one composed with nothing but harmonies that twilled together in a comforting blend.

It was the juxtaposition of the grave next to hers that solidified the sharp ache lining his stomach. Van Hohenheim, it read, carved recently into unblemished stone. Unlike his wife, the man’s grave was devoid of any flora, clean and orderly.

It didn’t suit him.

Sitting down, Ed’s fingers plucked at overgrown dandelions. It was a vague, distant knowledge he had of making flower crowns; his fingers were too big, too clumsy for this delicate craft as he attempted to weave the first two stems together. He recounted the instructions a cheerful Nina had once given him, as she giggled at his incompetence.

“If this turns out bad, I’m not sorry,” he spoke out loud. “S’not like you could do any better, old man.”

The first two dandelions were strung together, and Ed went to add a third.

“I’m still mad at you for leaving,” he said, “for leaving to die without saying a word. How idiotic do you have to be to make the same mistake twice?”

He looped the flowers together, fingers carefully delicate.

“You’re still a shitty father, got it? A useless, shitty excuse of an old man.”

The flower’s stem tore in half, ripped apart by rough hands.

“You're going too fast,” Nina had told him. “You need to be more patient, big brother.”

He restarted, picking up two new dandelions to begin.

Pearly twinkles in the sky signified nightfall, as shadows shading the cemetery grew smaller, as darkness began to overcast any remaining light. The dandelion petal’s once vibrant gold had muted with time, now a subdued, gentle yellow.

His fingers began working into a rhythm, twisting and pulling at fragile stems with steady hands.

“It’s unfair,” Ed whispered finally, tying the ending knot to his crown. “You finally came to us. And now you’re gone again.”

He hadn’t even noticed the passage of time, and the transition from evening to night had already passed. Dark blue claiming the skies as its own, lit only by disfigured white specks littered across the horizon. The stars were always weirdly shaped from this hill in Resembool, but Ed loved it’s oddity.

“But Granny told me you died with a smile. Even though it was unfair, you accepted death.”

He placed the flower crown on Hohenheim's grave. It suited him.

“I’m glad,” He said quietly. “That you get to finally be with her.”

Settling his arms on the man’s headstone, he pillowed his head in the crook of his elbow.

From where he rested, his gaze lingered on the multitude of stars that strung across pitch black. They twinkled brightly, as if to speak to him in a language of illumination.

Ed’s cheek was growing irritably sore from where it rested upon Hohenheim’s grave, but he made no move to shift his position.

The two headstones sung in harmony at last, a sweet lullaby that left a peaceful smile on his sleeping face.