Archive of Our Own

Delight lit up Nina’s face when she entered the kitchen, a matching gasp meeting Ed’s ears. Edward, for his part, had been carefully distributing a serving of fluffy scrambled eggs and freshly sliced fruit onto her plate. 

“Gooood morning.” He said, managing to turn halfway before the inevitable collision that came with the ‘hello-hug’. As an attack, it was in poor form; one should never bodyslam another when the attackee held hot items. Had he not been expecting it, with her smaller stature, some of it might very well have landed on her. He thought to chide her, but her cheer was infectious and escaped from him as a laugh. 

On the third attempt (he’d even glanced at the dial) the stove turned off, allowing him to take both child and plate to the table. 

“Was your walk fun?” Nina inquired. Then, noticing the absence of both hound and gleaming armor, “Where is everyone?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ll be back.” Assured Edward, reminding himself to meet her eyes to better express sincerity. He was carefully not mentioning that Alexander and Al had gone to the vet. Tucker had planned it, accidentally mentioning it and Al had excitedly volunteered. The physical exam seemed… unnecessary (another oddity adding to the uncomfortable accumulation) but unfounded suspicions weren’t particularly helpful– especially when dependent on the kind graces of another. 

“You’ve been really busy, Little Big Brother!” Nina exclaimed, seeming to have noticed- well- everything else in the room. “Have you been up all night?”

Deciding that Nina would probably be chatting for the next little while, he snatched up his bowl of hot water and the wash rag. “Not all of it.” A truth. “I woke up kinda early and decided to get started on everything.” He wrung out the rag and applied it to his shoulder port. 

Alexander’s appointment had started at five, and Al had woken him for, what was to the younger, a much needed talk. 

Really, Ed was the older brother; since when did Al get to assign him chores ? 

Actually, “Nina, d’ya like wassail?” 

“What’s-” 

A hand flung up in a halting gesture, “Choking hazard, choking hazard !” He warned. 

Puffing out her cheeks in frustration, Nina chewed and swallowed the mouthful. “But you asked!” She insisted. 

“And I wasn’t thinking !” He defended in mock exasperation. 

She gave a drawn out sigh. He returned the rag to the bowl with a flourish. 

Pause, consider. Palms together. Nothing. 

He gave a sigh of his own and sketched out a circle on a paper, heating the water before wetting and reapplying the rag. 

“Magic water!” Nina said, swinging her legs beneath the table. 

“Magic is just science we don't understand.” Was Edward’s scripted response, punctuated by a sagely nod. 

And, just as with every time before, she responded with an astonished “Magic is really, really real?!” Before tossing up her hands and cheering. 

But they weren’t outside, and Ed never knew how good others’ hearing was. “Shhh, Tucker’s sleeping.” He reminded. 

Nina looked down, abashed and saddened. “Sorry, Big Brother.”

“It's alright, I just-” didn’t want him around “-don’t want you to get in trouble.” Ed had no reason to be wary. 

Ruffling Nina’s bedhead, he returned to the counter to take stock. “Eat up, alright? We’ve got a big day planned.” 

“A big day? What’re we doing, Big Brother?” 

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tisked, “Eat first, and go get dressed. We need ta go to the store before the fun can begin.”

Nina blinked, perplexed, before digging in, excited over this new development. 

—

“It snowed, Big Brother, it snowed !” Nina cheered as they stepped out onto the freshly shoveled front steps. It was nice, but Ed worried Al would develop water damage at some point. Provisional lectures aside, it was nice not to worry over how the cold might affect his ports should he be the one attending to the walkway. 

“Sure did,” checking that the basket was still under arm, that Nina’s clothes were fittingly warm, and that the list was secured (in his own hand, but he had to be sure), he closed and locked the door behind them. “Which means that we’re going ta have to watch out for ice on our way there— you might get hurt if ya slip.” He explained. 

“Okay~!” She agreed, grasping his hand and bounding onwards. 

Soon enough the first car had whizzed on by, leaving a misted trail of stray flakes in its wake. It seemed needless. Back home, in Resembool, the only motor vehicles seen with any degree of frequency were for farming and lugging around produce or animals. 

It was neat to watch those trails, though. The snow twinkled in the light. 

“You’re not too cold, are ya, Nina?” Edward thought to ask, evaluating (for maybe the fifth time) her attire. Coat, boots, scarf, hat, gloves— she should be fine. 

She shook her head and chirped, “Nope~!” Then, frowning up at him, “Where are we going ?” 

“To fetch groceries.” He said. “It’s a few blocks’ walk— did ya want ta turn back?” No, leaving her at home functionally alone wasn’t an option. He’d have to think of something— 

“Big brother, no!” She whined, tugging the hand she held ( counterbalance, quick ) before bounding ahead, giggling her merry way. 

He huffed, shifting experimentally from foot to foot, before taking off after her. With a squeal, she took to a sprint. 

“Pause!” He barked, throwing his weight back and catching a pole to better stop. “These are roads , Nina.” He explained, tossing an accusatory glare to where their safe path ended. Nina followed suit, sticking out her tongue. (Had she always done that? Oh, Al was going to drag him about this.)

“Are roads eeeeevvvvil, Nina?” Ed asked, wrinkling his nose and flashing his teeth at the threat before them. 

“No!” She responded, excited and with an agreeable tone. 

“Yes!” He mock-argued. 

“Yes!” She corrected with the same excitement. 

“Roads are full of several-ton-death-machines. Do you trust death machines? Machines of death?” 

“Yes!” She returned. 

“No!” He countered. 

“No!” 

Pause. 

“We should probably cross, since there aren’t any cars comin’.” Ed realized. 

“No!” Still enthused, still agreeable. 

“Take my hand and hold it tight.” He held his flesh one out, looking at her and then the road. He strained his ears but heard no oncoming traffic, so nothing that his eyes weren’t already relaying. 

“No!” She complied. 

“We look left,” they did, “and right.” 

“Left again,” pause, “right again.”

“Can you guess what we’re gunna do now?” 

“Cross?” She offered hopefully.

“Nope. Third time’s the charm. Left,” pause, “and right.” 

“Big brother!” She whined, tugging again. He’d locked his knee this time, so no stumbling. 

“Aaand now we cross.”

A few more blocks landed them at the street that housed the shops. The market itself wasn’t all that different from the ones back home. A bit more tidy, maybe, and a bit more pristine. He’d been to this street numerous times already for grocery runs and morning walks. 

“We need to find a store…” he began, releasing Nina’s hand to take out and unfold their list, “…that sells produce.” 

“What’s produce?” The young girl inquired. 

“Fruits and veggies— things that you can expect in fields.”

“Like snakes?” 

“Prooobably not, but,” he shrugged, “anything’s possible.” 

“Hm!” She studied him, suspicious, “We’re not eating snake for dinner are we?” 

“Weeeeell,” he drawled, causing her to gag and pale. 

“No!” Tugging him again, this time with a fearful desperation, “We’re not eating snake!” 

“You are correct, we are not.” He clarified, ruffling her hair in a mostly teasing gesture. 

She gave a pleased huff, upturning her nose. 

Squinting around again, Ed realized that he couldn’t remember which of the stores sold cranberries. Apples were easy enough to come by, but although cranberries were still seasonably relevant, most only used them on select holidays— most didn’t celebrate the solstice. 

‘Ummmm,” he turned his head to and fro, knitting his brow and prodding his mind, trying to trigger his recall. Maybe if he could get a better view it would unclog his memory? The street wasn’t especially busy, not with the steadily increasing snowfall, but the ludicrously tall figures of mostly adult persons were enough of an obstacle for a vantage point to be desirable. Then again, there being even less of a crowd would be better; no one to bump into or be run over by. 

A pile again, a streetlight. It towered above them all. 

“Hold this, will ya?” He transferred the basket to her, something white fluttering away as he opened his palms. Wait- bad- the list- had he never returned it to his pocket? Scrambling quickly, he pounced at the fleeing scrap of paper. Bringing it back up, he inspected the blindingly bright scrap (bright as the snow and clouds; mirrors to the sun) to check for water damage. He could find fault with the cold (his ports were itching and muscles aching) but was pleased to find the snow hadn’t melted on the paper. He folded and tucked it away again. 

Returning to the post and sizing it up, he rubbed gloved hands together before clambering in synchronized bounds to the unlit lamp at the top. It wasn’t curved, but did allow for something to cling to. 

“Big Brother is a squirrel, too?!” Nina called from below, watching in awe. 

“Oi, I resent that!” He joked back, but quickly turned to the task on hand. 

“Let’s see…” he shifted, legs twining more securely around the post. “The last time I was here…” squinting around, ignoring the heads turning towards him. Yeah, he wore bright red. So what? 

“Hey, chief?” …people really needed to mind their own business. 

Nose wrinkling, Ed shifted on his perch, twisting to and fro. Right. The cold rendered scent null. All he could smell was crisp humidity, which very neatly covered up any- 

“Down here, chief.” Next to Nina, a blasted cigarette sitting at the corner of his mouth. 

Here’s what Ed knew about this guy: his name started with an ‘H’, he reeked of burning and death, he was tall as all get-out, he was a lackey of Mustang’s, he was from the countryside, and he could drive a car. (The car sometimes had treats in it, but the smell of the place made his head throb.)

“Good morrow,-“ Ed greeted, sweeping out one arm in a mock bow from his perch. Driver Guy was too close to Nina, but not a likely threat, or at least not an immediate one. He still had a minute to spare before the snow melted on his flesh hand and he lost grip. He looked around again, saw nothing helpful, and slid down the pole, conceding. 

Nina cheered at his landing (the port itched worse; he redistributed his weight) and he gave… Driver Guy a more proper acknowledgment in the form of a nod. 

“Having fun up there?” The smoker asked, lips quirking up around a cancer stick. Gate, he could smell it now— retrieving the basket from Nina was a good enough excuse to give the man a wider girth. She didn’t seem especially fond of the man’s proximity, either— although likely for different reasons. 

“Just tryin’ ta get-“ enunciate “a better look around the place is all.” It burned to look up. The sky was fire. 

The man was smiling, a little cheeky. Edward shot a flat look right back, wrinkling his nose again. 

Another excuse: he wiped off his glove against his coat (and didn’t bother to look back up). Wait- water damage- he wiped the other glove, too. 

Snow and a few small stones churned under foot, stiff cloth crinkling, as Driver Guy turned. “Didja do that for the view or somethin’?” Bemused rather than interrogating. He must not have found offense to Ed not looking at him. 

Nina was in his peripheral. Good. “Not really, no.” Should he leave it at that? Or- “Hey,” can’t say ‘Mr. H’, “you’ve lived around here for a while– longer than I have,” probably, “would you mind pointing me in the right direction?” 

Flesh hand out and low toward Nina, onto which she happily latched, crashing into his side with a giggle. (An aching pang.) He snorted at her antics and flicked one of her braids. 

“Oh, yeah, certainly!” He-who-could-not-be-named responded, a smile in his voice. “Whatcha lookin’ for?” 

“Cranberries, lamb,…oranges, apples, garlic, ginger…” he pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose, this time in thought. “Some herbs.” He added lamely. 

“The heck are ya makin’?” Inquired the man. 

“Food.” 

Nina swung forward, clinging to his hand for balance. (It ached.) “Food!” She cheered, before turning a little shy again. 

A chuckle and more crinkling fabric, probably in a relenting gesture, “Alright, I get it. Well, how’s about I walk ya down to that store over there? They’ve got some fresh stuff.” 

“Including produce?” Ed clarified.

“Yessir.”

“Well, alright then. Thank you.” Quickly, he checked his person. A slight squeeze of the hand reassured him that no, Nina had not ventured off. Actually, she had ducked behind him some, peaking at the strange man from around Ed’s hip. An experimental shift assured him that the basket was still tucked in his arm and the paper, crinkling quietly at the movement, was still in his pocket. 

He nodded to the towering blonde, “Lead the way.” 

Which he did, directly through the crowd. And, okay, the ‘mind your own business’ concept did have some extremes. Case and point: everyone minded their own matters perfectly, chatting amongst themselves in haphazard clusters; no one gave way nor paid mind to those trying to steer through. (Well, some did, but–) Walking on eggshells was something Ed could do with ease. Stepping on toes, too, but his were metal and he didn’t mean to and the other person was lucky he managed to jerk away mid-step. Bumped another person (okay, a few people) pretty bad, but that was preferable to the Footstep of Crunch. 

The shop itself was perfectly average; decently decorated, organized, lit, and stocked. He stiffened his shoulders against a twitch as the warmth chased away the superficial chill, causing him to shiver and for every hair to stand on end. Two more rounds of evaluations, one for impressions of the surrounding and another for whether or not their guide was needed. 

In a split second, he would be unable to organically influence the adult’s helpfulness. If the man was needed, then he could be helpful. If the man was not needed and stayed anyway, he could be a hindrance. But if the man was needed and left anyhow ?

Worst case scenario: after about thirty minutes to an hour of searching, a new guide- probably a worker but not necessarily- could be hunted down and asked to help find this or that item. 

Factors to consider: those asked almost always aided; the prolonged search would give him time enough for his ports to maybe warm some; and Nina was shy around strangers, especially tall, adult ones.

The man was turning towards him. There was an oddness in the other’s expression, some minor confusion or curiosity. Now or never. “Thanks for the help.” Ed said, offering a casual grin. 

The man took the hint. “No problem, call if you need anything.” And with that, he strolled deeper into the store, seemingly to do some shopping of his own. 

Rolling his shoulders, Ed tugged Nina to stand closer to his side, as opposed to behind him. “How’re you doing?” He asked, bending down some so that they were a bit closer to eye level. He wanted to smooth her hair down some, maybe dust off the snow from her coat, but he didn’t have any free hands. 

“It’s warm in here.” She responded, looking a little less like a fearful rabbit. 

“Mhm.” He still didn’t have any free hands. One tethered Nina to him (and him to her) and the other held the basket. This he remedied by turning the basket belly-side up and setting it atop Nina’s head. 

She giggled out a protest, tearing her hands up to the basket and raising it up. “Big brother! I need to see !” 

Now both hands were free. That wasn’t his intention. But maybe he was just being overprotective. 

He held his empty hands out in a disarming gesture, “Alright, alright. I guess not everyone can be as fashionable as myself.” Because he was and would absolutely say it. 

She giggled at that, covering her face with the basket. Ed guffawed in mock exasperation. 

Finding the fruits proved easy. Ed set the basket atop Nina to take up the list, pretending not to hear her amused whine. 

“Okay, we need ta find a bunch of cranberries.” Would she know what those looked like? “The’re smaller than grapes and a lot more round. Lemme know if you see ‘em, okay?” 

“Is this mine?” Nina asked, touching the basket. 

“No…” Ed trailed off, considering. “Right now, it’s the shopping trip’s. Maybe it can be yours when we’re done. Once it has a lotta food, it’ll be harder to carry; you can protect the list while I escort the basket?” 

“Okay!” She cheered, and making to pass back the basket. 

“Now Nina,” Ed cautioned, leaning in conspiratorially, “This list is very important. Al’s trusting us to ensure its safe passage. Are you up for it?” 

Nina lowered the basket, brow creasing. “Of course I am!” She pouted. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can be a phenomenal guard dog.” Ed said airily, “But is today the day? Will you, Nina Tucker, protect this list and give it safe passage?” 

She nodded fervently. “I will, I will!” 

“That’s the spirit! Now,” They exchanged items, “The list needs us ta get everything on it. Let’s start with ‘em cranberries!” 

“Yeah!” And so the hunt began. 

They stalked the isle, predacious among the unsuspecting fruits. With Nina ahead of him, Ed snuck items from their list into the basket. 

Nina pointed to a pomegranate, “I see it, I see it!” She whispered. 

“Negative, our aim is smaller.” Ed responded, “But those ‘re really tasty and a lot of fun; maybe we c’n grab one next time.” 

“ Next time .” She swore, glaring daggers to the offending pomegranate as if saying ‘your days are numbered’. 

Ed raised a hand palm-out for her attention, then pointed to something in a rather decadent spot. “Target spotted. Approach with caution.” 

“I am caution!” She cheered delightedly. It was all Ed could do to not snicker. 

“Amazing. Yes, very good. You’d make a burglar proud.” 

She rocked excitedly, trying to contain a squeal. “I am caution!” she repeatedly more quietly. 

“Mhm.” Ed agreed, crossing the distance and plucking up a bag of cranberries. He grinned. “That should do it for all the fruit. Now we should look for ginger and nuts.”

“I am caution.” Nina said, as if agreeing with Ed’s plan of action. She blinked. “What does ginger look like?” 

“It’s a pale root with really clonky arms.” He spotted some near the vegetables and held it up for her to see. “I use it for wassail– and more general cooking. The powdered stuff’s good for baking.” He slipped it into the basket and started to look around. “But we’re out of it, so I need to make some more…” He realized. 

“With magic?” She gasped. 

He chuckled. “Yes, Nina, with alchemy.” 

“Magic!” she cheered. 

As the two went along, Nina spotted an especially appealing isle. “Look, Big Brother!” 

He tilted his head at the prettified wrappings. “That’s a lot of candy.” 

“Can we get some? Can we, can we?” 

“Uhm…” he glanced at the basket. “Sure? Just one. You’ve been really good, so you get one.” He decided. 

“Yay! She sped towards something green and pink. Ed shifted, frowned, and ignored it in favour of catching up. 

“Which one ‘re you lookin’ at?” He asked, being shown a thing of strawberry flavoured bon bons. 

“Are these okay?” She asked. Something must have showed in his expression. 

He smiled and said “If that’s the one you pick.” 

It was while looking at the meats that an issue presented itself, namely that the basket could only hold so much. “I need to reorganize things to make room. Stay nearby while I’m at it, okay?” 

“Okay.” She promised, walking back and forth on her tiny legs to see what all the options were. 

Ed sat where he was less likely to get trampled and began his attempt. They still needed flour, and yeast, so maybe if– 

Ed stopped. He tilted his head. Then turned the cranberries close. “Excuse me,” he addressed a worker. Nina glanced at him before resuming her antics. “Down here.” it took the worker an awkward minute to respond. 

“...May I help you, young man?” they asked. 

“Is this price accurate?” He asked, giving it to them. 

They didn’t accept it, merely squinting at it and saying “I believe so?” 

“Okay, thank you.” This person clearly had been on shift for way too long. Or they were just sleep deprived. Or weirded out. He let them shuffle away and began checking everythings’ prices. Fortune had forsaken him; the prices were three times higher. Maybe it was a city thing? Or perhaps seasonal? Regardless, it didn’t really seem–

Double checking the numbers, recounting his money, he blanched. Nevermind the basket; they didn’t have enough to cover things at all . How could he have misjudged so badly?!

What could he afford? What ought be prioritized? 

He didn’t really need the apples and oranges– just one from each would do. And the ginger, just a little gnob would suffice. But did they– no, only the whole bag option. 

Looking to the mess, then to Nina, then to what all was around Nina, he considered his choices. He began to carefully sort things back into the basket, setting much onto the counter and giving an apologetic look to the person behind it. 

“I c’n put these back.” He offered. (Enunciate.)  

“No, thank you.” the woman frowned at some of them. 

“I found those like that.” He explained. 

“Hm.” She shrugged and waved him off. 

He was careful to keep his pace from hasty, but just fast enough to appear embarrassed. Which was a lie above a lie; he was frustrated. Apologetic at the inconvenience, maybe, but frustrated overall. 

“There you are.” Nina greeted, still by the meats. She was leaning with both palms against the glass. He decided not to mention the forgotten list. 

“Thanks for holdin’ up. Time for our… last item.” He assumed. 

After a too-long minute of mathing out the selections, “Can I help you?” Politely asked the man who sliced the meats. 

“I’m indecisive.” Explained Ed, “But thank you.” 

He tapped on Nina’s head. 

“Thank you!” Nina parroted. 

“Well, okay then. Let me know if that changes.” The man turned away from them.

“Which one should we get?” Asked Nina. 

Lamb was off the table; too pricey. 

“I think we should get–” He chewed at his cheek “A turkey breast. No…” Still too pricey “Just…give me a minute.” 

He shifted off from his left leg, rolling his shoulders. 

“Maybe… How’s about some chicken breast?” It would have to be just two. But, then again, they only really needed two. 

“I like chicken.” Answered Nina. 

“Alrighty then.” He waved for the worker’s attention and said “Hi, it’s me again. Can you bag two pieces of this?” he pointed.

The worker knit his brow. “Just two?” He checked. 

Mindful of his manners “Yes, please.” Al would be proud. 

The man shrugged and did as asked. 

While going to the register, Nina said “Wow, you really made everything smaller.” 

She was surprisingly accurate, but loose lips sank ships. “I had to put a lot of stuff back.” He explained away.

“...My candy?” She asked.

He hugged her. “Sorry. You were still really good.” 

“Oh.” She looked away sadly. 

“Yeah, sorry kid.” Apologized the register. “I’d let you have that stuff if I could.” 

“Perfectly understandable.” he assured, ushering Nina to stand out of the way. She was pouting as he began to work. It was with a preplanned ease he handed the items, quick to return the flour to the bottom– namely to keep it from crushing anything more fragile. 

“Hope you have a nice day.” Said the worker. 

“And to you, as well.” Replied Ed automatically. 

Snowfall had snuck up on them, the flakes caught in gusts like ribbons to dance through the air. Ed was reminded of how ‘visual snow’ got its namesake. 

Thankfully, Nina viewed it as a beauty. It was rather nice; her enthusiasm. Even if she had been saddened minutes before. 

“Maybe you can draw this later.” Ed commented, effectively mirroring her joviality. 

“I should!” She chirped back, releasing Ed’s coattail to make a running kick at a mound of snow. 

A worried glance to the sky. Ed chewed his cheek and did not rub his shoulder. (It itched.) 

It wasn’t until they were a good block out that Ed stopped. “Hold on for a second.” He began to dig to the bottom of the basket, handing Nina a small pink and green candy. 

She blinked at it, mouth forming a little, confused ‘o’. Then, breaking from her stupor, she giggled and lunged for the thing. Ed caught her (it hurt) and kept the basket from spilling. 

“You said you put them back.” Mentioned Nina as she tried to uncoil the wrapper, a difficult feat with mitts. 

“I had to put most of them back,” a truth, “some things come in singular purchases— those can be cheap.” Technically not a lie. 

She succeeded in freeing her candy, Ed pocketing the wrapper, and the two pressed on. (It ached). 

The sidewalk was growing powdered, Ed cautioned Nina against haste. Nina was, understandably, upset by this; stomping on snow was fun and slush splashed! with ease. 

“Why not?” She demanded. 

Ed cringed, “If you’re too fast… ya might slip. Snow is great, but it can be rude. Especially if you’re fast on it; it trips people who are too fast.” 

She considered the ground for a curious second. 

“And it’s hard ta tell where ice is. Best not ta find out the hard way.”

Nina’s brow knit, “But…you love ice?” 

“I do, but not when I’m carrying stuff. Not when you can get hurt.” (Not when it itched unbearably; when each jerk or lift felt as though metal might dislodge from flesh.) “If you want to play after we get home, we’ll consider it. Just not so close to the street.” 

“Okaaaayyy.” 

They walked, and they kept walking. Had the going taken this long before? Had they gotten turned around? It was hard to tell… the snow was obscuring what landmarks Ed had before noted and the wind bit at the eyes as he tried to survey their surroundings. It was probably the right way. 

“How much longer?” Nina asked. She had traded her speeding for a pace akin to a crawl. Thankfully, that meant she was just off to the side of Ed, away from traffic and partially sheltered from the harsher gales by his body. 

“I’m not sure.” Ed admitted. 

There were fewer cars now. Most people probably wanted to steer clear from the snow. Or, if denial were to be set aside, snow storm . 

It wasn’t too terrible. The boiler had broken and the furnace faltered the first winter after Trisha’s passing. If he could manage then, he could manage now. 

(It burned.) 

One of the sparse drivers slowed, window winding down. Edward stopped. Nina stopped too, but that was because she’d bumped into him (Lock the knees, lock the knees-) How long would the driver be stopped? Was that not tempting a collision? 

“…Can I help you?” Ed asked after a long moment. Really, it was a formality; he was already tugging on Nina’s hand to suggest maybe continuing on again. 

The driver waved merrily, cigarette clenched between grinning teeth. “Hey, chief.” Was that the bloody Driver Guy? 

“Oh. Hey.” Ed responded, putting in a little more recognition in his voice and casually pretending to have not noticed that this was the same person who’d been shuffling him to and from on-and-off for the last few months so maybe he should have recognized him by this point with some semblance of reliability and oh my stars where the hell is Alphonse when you need him-

It was clear how this would play out. And it was a good thing. Ed knew this guy, who had a car, whose car was heated, and clearly it was more rational to want the toasty ashtray on wheels than frostbite. 

Finding no sense in avoiding the inevitable, Ed dusted snow from Nina (who, in turn, started trying to dust him off, too) and drew the both of them nearer what was most definitely not a headache waiting to happen. 

“Didja think you could ditch me so easily?” Joked Driver Guy.

Ed hummed with mock thoughtfulness, “Well, I figured you had your own shopping to deal with. But.” A deliberate pause to pat Nina on the head (she patted his belly) “I don’t suppose you’re headin’ in the direction of Tucker’s, wouldja?” 

(Cars were driving around Driver Guy’s. They’d be easier to ignore if not for the blatant idiocy in doing so.)

Driver Guy chuckled, the end of his cigarette burning brighter as he took a drag. After a moment he exhaled and- 

Ed swatted the offending smoke away reflexively, inadvertently losing Nina’s hand. Really, cold aside, it didn’t bother him that much. He was much better at this normally. Driver Guy paid it no mind, but Ed did and regardless of circumstances he should have a better grasp over his own reactions. 

“Hop in the back, I’ll getcha there.” It was a rather kind sentencing.

“Thanks.” Ed helped Nina into the back, seating her in the middle and setting the basket in his lap. Nina set her head against his shoulder, lightly batting at his hands as he tried to crack his window. Because it was cold and she didn’t want it cold. He shouldn’t, either. 

Driver Guy pulled back into the road proper. Ed tried to keep his breaths shallow. “I meant to ask you earlier, but what’s with the basket? Didn’tcha have any bag or…?”  

Speech meant deeper inhalations. “I just like them.” He kept his words clipped and to the point.

Nina’s head popped up, “It’s mine once we’re home!” She proclaimed from her throne of snuggles. 

Ed shrugged. He wasn’t sure why he shrugged, but it served as a decent response. It meant he didn’t have to talk. 

-

A small snort from Ed as they pulled in front of the house. All of Al’s work, the careful removal of obstructions known only as FluffyIceCrystalitus, for nothing. Alexander, who saw fit to steal Ed’s middle name and Ed would never not be salty about it, would likely enjoy the fresh mess of snow currently blanketing the walkway. 

“Something funny?” Driver Guy asked.

The answer was ‘yes’, but it wasn’t exactly the sort translatable impromptu. Really it was more of an inside-joke. As in, ‘Funny when kept inside the head of Ed Elric’. “Al shoveled just a bit ago. Now it’s covered up again.” Ed explained anyway. Driver Guy had been nice to give them a ride, after all. 

‘Snow tends to do that.” Driver Guy dismissed. 

Ed shook Nina’s shoulder, rousing her from her light daze. 

“Here.” And then Driver Guy had opened his car door. Ed stilled, watching as the man came around to their door. Ed glanced down to Nina, the basket, and then to Driver Guy. he handed the man the basket once the door opened and moved on to unclicking Nina from her seat. 

“I was actually going to-” 

“I’ve got her.” Ed interjected. 

Nina curled more into his chest, which made it a little easier to squirm their way out of the car. It put pressure on his ports, true, but handing her off to some stranger? Besides, the snow might have gotten into her boots and no one wanted something that cold up against their skin (It hurt). 

Through awkward stumbling, Ed made it to the front door. Unlocking it was harder, but manageable. He didn’t set her down until they were in her room, whereupon he helped her take off her winter gear and instructed her to take a nap. 

“Just for a little while, okay? I’m going’ta make ya something warm to drink.” 

“Okay.” She agreed, reaching out and pulling him into as tight of a hug as her little arms could manage. She was going to be an absolute menace when she was older. 

He tried to draw away after a minute. “Big brother Ed!” She protested, scrutinizing him as if he had just transmuted her favourite crayon into a candle. “Kisses before bed.” She lectured.

Ed sighed dramatically but bent down again to peck her forehead. She took his face in her icey hands and kissed his forehead. 

“Sweet dreams.” Ed said as he left. 

To Driver Guy after rejoining him near the door, “Thanks for your patience, she probably should have been sent for a nap a while ago.” 

“She’s that young?” Asked Driver Guy. 

“Mhm.” Ed took back the basket. “No smoking in here.” he ordered, probably less gently than he ought to have. 

“Ah.” He put out his cigarette and tossed it out the front door. Ed appreciated the dramatics– though it meant some cleanup before Alexander could get to it. 

Was there something Ed was to say? An outright ‘you can leave now’ or, because he was military ‘you are dismissed’? That would probably be rude. 

Rude felt rather ideal at the moment. He settled on walking to the kitchen and working to onload the basket. To his chagrin, Driver Guy followed. 

He’d really have to ask Al about the name later. It started with an ‘H’, of that he was sure. …or maybe an ‘A’ with a subsequent ‘H’? Dang. Now he was unsure. 

“Quite a mess in here.” Driver Guy commented amicably. A sort of lived-in mess or productive mess. Positive connotation. Might have been meant as a compliment or conversation starter.

Ed nodded, turning back on the stove and setting to work. “Do you like wassail?” he asked. 

“Wa-what?” Driver Guy responded half-jokingly. 

“It’s like a spicy punch.”

Driver Guy thought for a second. “Is it… a spiked punch?” 

Ed fought off a glare. His attempt to ward off the accusatory tone was mostly successful. Probably, “I’m sharing this with Nina. And I am a minor.” he searched for the recently dehydrated fruits at the bottom of the basket, beneath the flour, setting aside all else. “Underage drinking can stunt growth, both in the brain and the body.” 

The man laughed, waving dismissively. “Right, you need as many inches as you can get.”

“I also don’t want to drink rotten fruit juice, so even when I am old enough, I’m probably never going to drink that mess.” Was what he very nearly said. Instead he forced himself quiet and formed a less biting statement: “Also, I grew up raking rotten apples and working around a grape vine; I can’t unsmell that.” 

“You get used to it.” Ensured Driver Guy, as if he were the first adult to say such. What was with people and trying to push that junk on him? It was disgusting. 

“Wassail is mostly apple cider, orange juice, cinnamon, and cranberries.” Ed said curtly. Decidedly not mentioning that actually alcohol was a fairly common addition. “Do you want some.” 

Finally catching the hint, Driver Guy shifted in place. “Nah, that’s fine.” 

Ed followed his gaze, brow creasing. “...Did you leave your engine on?” 

“Yeah.” Driver Guy admitted. 

“Ah.” 

“...” 

“I appreciate you giving us a ride and helping to escort us inside.” Ed articulated, a little too scripted. 

“Any time.” Driver Guy said. 

An awkward minute later, and he was gone. 

Edward slipped out a piece of paper, took off his coat and jacket, and transmuted himself two heat pads for his ports. 

“No, wait.” He inhaled, stealing himself. “The wassail will take a while. Gotta prep that first.” 

A few minutes of busywork later, and he was seated to allow his ports a rest. With all the surprise of seeing the sun at dawn, it was the leg port that was worse off. It would be a while of waiting before it would leave him be, best to not make it any longer by pointless action. 

His coat was within reach, he snagged it and pulled it around his shoulders. It would be nice when the Wassail was ready; a warm beverage might do him some good. Would Nina like it? Maybe this batch should be sweeter… but the cranberries had already been added. Perhaps an addition of honey? Would that not clash against the cinnamon? 

Bubbling from the background; a light simmer. Did he really have to go stir? 

The wind had picked up, singing softly through branches and against walls. Though such things didn’t exactly do his body any favours, he just couldn’t bring himself to hate a force of nature. Everything was a part of the flow, right? That’s what Teacher had said. Maybe that was why he didn’t hate the Gate. Had it been left alone, would it have done anything to him?

Bubbling still. Groaning, Ed drew himself to a stand and thought to reheat the pads while up. 

The wind was still there, when he closed his eyes to listen. 

Not too longer before he could start on the rest. 

-

Light footsteps; a small weight. 

Ed shifted slightly, coat more securely draped over his front.

It wasn’t until the steps were but a hall away that they fully registered. “Oh, uh, Nina,” Ed started, bleary. He cringed upon finding the pads cold. “Didja sleep well?” 

“Big brother, you look cold.” Worried Nina. Ed focused his eyes to the sound, training them into coordination and noticing Nina had dragged a blanket cocoon with her. 

“Eh, it’s alright.” He stretched his back before moving to kiss her forehead. 

“You don’t look it.” She responded doubtfully. 

Ed gave a one-shoulder shrug, “I couldn’t keep my coat on when warming my ports. Since those are now warm-” comparatively “I feel better.” 

She scrunched up her face, “What’s a port?” 

“It’s where my metal limbs connect to my organic body.”

“Why are they connected to your body?” 

Ed pretended to muse over this for a second, “The day I can psychokineticaly move things is the day I stop needing prosthesis. Alas, I cannot. And if I could,” He wiggled his fingers at her, tone turning grave, “They would be flOoAatTiNg.” Followed by ghost noises for good measure. 

‘Magic limbs?” She gasped, planting both hands on either side of her face. 

“Magic mind!” Ed boasted, head held high. “Buuut that’s all a hypothetical; I can’t actually do any of that. Food for thought, though.” 

“Can I have food for my belly?” 

“Sure and- what time is it?” He looked around, eyeing the clock mounted high on a far wall. “...Yeah, I’ll make you something.” Whoops. 

Trading the heat pads for his jacket, Ed went over and fiddled with some things Nina didn’t particularly find interesting. Soon before her was a crustless sandwich with ham and cheese paired with a steaming mug of orange-pink liquid. 

“Bon appétit.” he gave a slight bow before sweeping back to the stove. 

She sniffed the mug like a curious kitten, “What is this?” She inquired. 

“C’est Wassail, ma chérie; je l’ai fait pour te réchauffer.” Explained Ed. “Aimez-tu le Wassail?”

“You're speaking funny again, Little-Big Brother.” She pouted.

“Do ya like the Wassail?” He pointed to the mug. 

Sniffing again, she sipped the beverage. “Ew!” She cringed. It was bitter and sour, burning the throat from an otherwise unnoticed spice. 

A sigh, Ed went to the sink and brought her a glass of water. “I’ll…bring you some hot coco.” He offered, disappointment seeped into every word. 

Nina balked at the flash of hurt. “It’s pretty.” She offered. “And really warm.” 

He offered a little smile, ruffling her hair and taking the mug. “I appreciate you trying it.”

She ate her sandwich quietly, guilt prodding all the while at the unintentional offense. 

Her mug returned to her, and milk was inside? Ed sat down, holding chocolate chips in his other hand. 

“I think you’ll like this.” He said. The chips were added to the milk, a piece of paper brought close. 

Nina’s eyes widened in realization, “Magic coco?!” She gasped. 

Ed chuckled, using one of her crayons to scrawl out the familiar array. “Nina,” he started, “Wouldja like to do the honor?” He gestured to the mug, as if he could waft it onto the paper. 

With enough speed as to splash, she took up the mug and did as requested. 

The light was as beautiful as ever. She gave a squealing laugh. 

“Careful, it’s hot.” Ed cautioned, gently guiding it back into her hands. The milk and chocolate had been merged into a uniform, creamy concoction. 

As she sipped careful spoonfuls, Ed used the sketched circle to reheat one of the pads, conceding to the fact that he would have to neglect the leg port if he wanted to go on cooking. Okay, life goes on. He was sick of sitting, anyhow. One pad he packed into his jacket (lamenting that it would get a little bit damp– but that was for future him to fret over), thus he could go on without having to worry about it slipping from its spot. 

Nina watched as Ed went back to the counter, messing around with bowls and various food items. As he sifted through the flour, she asked “What are you making now, Little Big Brother?” 

“Cookies.” he answered simply, frowning at a cupboard’s contents. Right, they were short on supplies. “We can make… shortbread cookies.” 

“Huh?” What kind of cookie was short ? Was that just any cookie Little Big Brother made? Maybe Big Little Brother’s cookies would be ‘tall’, but where did bread come in?

Little Big Brother nodded. “We have some cranberries, even after the Wassail… Do we have any extra oranges?” More to himself than to her. That was okay because he gave her a mug of magic coco and would pat her head when he walked by to warm up his Important Towel. 

“Mom used to make shortbread cookies every year,” Little Big Brother was saying, idly using a wired thing on a bunch of powders in a big bowl. Hadn’t Nina’s Mommy used that thing before? 

“Can we make chocolate chip cookies, too?” Those were always so warm. 

“...We don’t really have enough… uhm…” It sounded like a ‘No’ that didn’t want to be a ‘No’. Little Big Brother was twining and untwining his fingers together, shiny metal and pinkish skin bare of his usual gloves. When he turned away, those hands moved half-raised and clenched. Maybe he was going to say ‘Yes’ anyways? 

Ooh! He had the chocolate chips! He waved the bag experimentally, measuring its weight and eyeing a different bag with brown sugar in it. 

“...We can make a very small batch.” he decided, which was really nice because he didn’t have to. Nina gave a little cheer; that always made him smile. He should do it more often, so maybe she would have to cheer more, too. 

Eventually, he did come back for Important Towel purposes. It made her giggle when he ruffled her hair, and the circle cackled a beautiful blue before he went off again. 

Maybe she should have asked him to warm her coco, but that’s okay because it was still good.

It was a bit too quiet without Alexander… he would be back soon. 

“Can you tell me a story?” Nina asked suddenly. She’d been waiting to say something for when Little Big Brother stopped working, and rubbing his leg served as a pause well enough. 

“You want a story? What kind?” he forgot to look at her again. Most people looked when spoken to, but Little Big Brother mostly just did that to people like Dad and Mr. Havoc. Big Little Brother said that Little Big Brother forgets his manners sometimes. 

“A really good one!” She suggested helpfully. 

“Hmm…” He was smiling again, it made her giggle. “How’s about one about going places?” 

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah!” 

Pause. Little Big Brother was making a very thoughtful, Thinking Things face. He touched his chin when he did that, kind of pinching it with his thumb and pointer finger. No, wrong word… holding it? She mimicked him and found that yes, it was more like holding her chin than pinching. 

He started stirring at the stove again. She took up a new paper and fresh crayon. “Somewhere far off, out where the ground reaches to keep the sky hanging high above, were two birds. One was a wren, and the younger was a robin. They wanted to help the moon’s shadow get to the ground, but couldn’t find it.

They weren’t supposed to fly that high– the air’s too thin. Every night, they practiced flying, trying ta see how long they could last before their wings hurt too much ta keep airborne. 

A young squirrel and a bunny were friends with the wren and robin, but they didn’t like flying. Couldn’t do it themselves, and didn’t like it when the birds flew. That’s why the robin did it at night; he didn’t want others to know.” 

“What about the wren?” Nina asked before she could help it.

Little Big Brother turned a dial on the oven. “The wren didn’t really care if they knew. Just didn’t like the sun too much, is all– it hurt the wren’s eyes.” 

“Oh.” Nina stopped using the yellow crayon and found a dark blue one. 

“The robin was still worried, though, so the wren suggested they keep their flying to themselves. During the day, the robin would go play on the ground with the bunny and squirrel. 

Maybe the robin had said something to the squirrel, or maybe the wren wasn’t as subtle as he thought, but an older squirrel pulled the wren aside one day and told him off. Said he’d better stick beneath the trees and forget the heavens.

…The wren didn’t really listen.” Little Big Brother admitted. “Sometime after that, an eagle came and the wren and robin convinced the eagle to take them under her wing- so to speak- to teach them to fly higher and farther than they could ever have gone before.

Eventually, the eagle agreed. And the eagle did teach them– just not what the wren thought she would. The eagle clipped off their primary feathers and left them somewhere on the ground somewhere where the ground was flat and surrounded by fish-filled water. There, they learned to listen to the song of the world. Trees sing if you listen, and the wind’s never without its tune. 

All the while, the shadow squirmed on the moon, twisting it into a crescent before waxing away, eventually hiding behind the big pale rock. 

Once the wren and robin’s feathers grew back and they got back to where the ground reached up, the wren decided it was time. If they couldn’t do it after the eagle’s tutelage, they’d never be able, anyway.” 

Nina glanced over. “What about the squirrels and bunny?” 

“Oh, them.” he shrugged, “The wren and robin didn’t let anyone know they were back before trying.” 

She pointed an accusatory crayon at him, “You’re just making stuff up now.” She said triumphantly. 

He snorted, surprised. “No, really, they didn’t.” He assured. 

“Why not? They were the birds’ friends!” Nina countered. 

“Yeah, well, sometimes people don’t think of those sorts of things. The wren had a lot on his mind, okay?” 

“Fiiiiine.” 

“Did you want me to keep going?” Little Big Brother asked. And- Hey- who said he could ball up the dough all by himself?!

“Hmph!” She marched over and tried for the bowl. Little Big Brother moved it out of her reach. 

“Are we forgetting something?” He prodded, nodding to the sink. After she washed her hands, the two worked to ready the dough for the oven. 

“May you keep going with the story?” Nina asked after a minute. 

He chuckled, “Sure. Where was I?”

“The birds were going to fly.” She offered. 

He blinked in recollection. “Right you are. So, these birds…” An absent-minded rolling motion of his free hand sent a small piece of batter to the counter, which Nina gladly gobbled down. 

“The wren and the robin opened their wings and worked to climb the sky. The moon was nearly new; a thin sliver of white the only part not swallowed by the marvelous shadow. 

Because they were listening to the wind, they heard it murmur about a draft. With a turn of their wings, they road that gust as the cold air twisted around the warmer, thicker air. Very suddenly they were there, just a breath beneath the thick tapestry of the night. 

Did you know that birds can hang upside down? Bats can manage for a lot longer, sure, but birds are no stranger to the practice. The moon was hanging, see, and the robin and wren had to find footholds on the bright sliver. 

They hurried over to where the sliver ended, but no matter how they pecked and pulled they could not free the shadow from its prison. At last, they sang. The wren called to the shadow, and the robin pleaded to the sliver. 

Do you know what the sliver did?”

“What?” Nina asked. 

Little Big Brother opened the heated oven and slid inside a sheet of cookies. For whatever reason, he’d shaped the lighter, chocolateless ones into disks. He twisted a timer and began washing up. 

“The sliver stole their breath. Ripped it right out of their lunges. Maybe it had heard their songs, or maybe it just wanted them gone, but they plummeted down below. 

The shadow came with them. 

Where the sliver began came a crack, and this crack snapped open like large double doors, pouring out things that never breathed. That didn’t need to breathe. That ate up the stolen air and learned to need it. And the shadow fell and shattered .”

He spread out his hands and wiggled his fingers, miming confetti. 

“The shards cut at the robin and wren’s feathers. Onto each lost feather, a fragment latched and became something new .” 

‘What? What did they become?” Nina asked, leaning forward and eyes wide. 

“Ravens.” He breathed. “Strong, dark birds cawed and spread out across the horizon. One raven caught the robin and wren some ways before either could crash before it, too, fled. But as the dawn clawed into the tapestry, every dark shape in the sky burned back into feathers.” 

“Oh…” Nina muttered sadly, nibbling at the dough on her hand. 

Little Big Brother chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, though… some of the ravens hid in the trees.” 

“They can’t just come out?” 

“Shadows generally don’t last long under the sun.” 

“What if everyone wore special hats?” 

“...Like a sunhat?” 

“Yeah! And then, if everyone has hats and umbrellas and leaves, the shadows can dance in the day!” 

He hummed, smiling in spite himself. “Accommodations generally help with a lot of things.” 

“What’s an accommodation?” Nina asked. 

“They’re things that help people do stuff they otherwise couldn’t, or things that help them feel better than they might otherwise. Although ‘accommodation’ can also mean a place to sleep. Like this place-” He waved his pinkish hand toward the walls, the ceiling,-- everything, “You and Tucker are givin’ accommodations for Al ‘n me.” 

“Huh.” Nina blinked. 

“Aaaaaand,” He went to open the fridge, “It’s about time I accommodate our friends downstairs.” 

“What?!” She squeaked. 

“Mhm.” He fiddled with a container of small bottles she wasn’t allowed to touch. Some were labeled things like ‘antibiotic’ and all other words she was too scared to ask about. They were for the loud things Daddy worked on.

Little Big Brother found the smelly can with dried brownish gunk around the top and started working to mix things into small bowls on a half-prepared tray. It had one of those lists he liked to write out. There were no names, just numbers and some more of those words she didn’t want to ask about. 

He glanced up at her, “...You don’t have ta come down with me if ya don’t want to.” he mentioned, tipping his head towards the oven, “Who knows? I might need someone ta stand guard in case a hungry shadow needs help finding the cracks in the wall.” 

“Okay.”

She didn’t want to be alone. 

–

She didn’t want to be alone. 

Alexander was gone. Big Little Brother was gone. And Little Big Brother was with the scary things she wasn’t really supposed to go and see anyway. 

No shadows came out to her. 

The little timer made a constant drone of tic tic tic tic . 

And she didn’t want to be alone . 

– 

No shadows came out to her. 

Was Little Big Brother singing? She could hardly hear him; the door was in the way. It was dark behind the door. 

She didn’t open it. 

–

Tic tic tic tic went that little timer. The circle part had moved some ways now. 

The singing was quieter, but she could still hear it. The words were all strange to her, like the ones he would use sometimes that she never knew the meaning of. All sharp and high.

–

The door opened. Light shot inside– why hadn’t the light been on? She was sure Daddy always had the light on when he was down there. 

“Thanks for holding up. Did any shadows stop by while I was gone?” Edward jibed, bumping his elbow into her shoulder lightly. 

She barrelled into him, hugging tightly. 

He sighed, smoothing out her hair and kissing the top of her crown. “It’s alright. You’re alright.” 

She responded by dropping down to hug his leg, coiled like a koala and in no way planning on letting go. 

“Really.” Ed looked down, quietly thankful that she had gone for his good leg. The waddle to the counter was equal parts successful and uncomfortable. (It ached.)

“Oh.” He scooped up the timer just as the tic tic tic hastened, a tell that it was nearly complete. A swift twist and a mercifully muffled ding! later and it was time to leave the cookies to cool. 

“Nina.” he smoothed out her hair. “I need ya to get off now.”

“Hmph!” She clutched tighter, defiant. 

“I’m serious, Nina.” 

“...”

Inhaling, aching, patience waning, he said “ Nina. Let. Go. Please.” 

She did, suddenly very aware of her older brother’s displeasure. 

“Thank you.” He said in a clipped tone. 

Once the cookies were out and he was seated with matching pads and a mug of wassail, Nina spoke. “Did I hurt your accommodation?”

Edward, ever the straight face, burst out laughing. “ What? ” She cringed. “I mean, er, I guess…? It’s alright. I just needed to sit down for a bit.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” he watched her, chewing his cheek. “Didja want ta show me your drawings?” 

She brightened immediately, scrambling for the papers strewn about the table. “This!” She raised up a sheet. “These are the birds!” 

The… ‘birds’ had their ‘wings’ outstretched and were eating up giant worms. No, wait, they were singing. Kids’ drawings were…. Curious things. 

“That’s very lovely.” He commented. “Is…. that the eagle?” Teacher was going to kill him. 

“Mhm! And those are the feathers.” 

“...Ah.” Don’t laugh. Do not laugh at the child’s drawings. 

She pointed to what he prayed was a tree. “And here’s the home of the grumpy old squirrel!” Do. Not. Laugh. 

“It’s very green.” He commented. Very straight faced and nurturing. And not laughing. 

She pulled out a different sheet with- NOPE. NOT LAUGHING. Nuh uh. 

“What’s happening there?” The certainly not nearly crying from amusement Edward asked. 

“The birds are getting their breath stolen and feathers taken! And the raven doesn’t catch them, so they fall down.” 

Oh my god. “Are they dead?” 

“Not yet!”

Oh my god . 

“They fall on this tree, so the sticks poke them and they land. But this is a magical tree, so all their feathers grow back.” 

“That’s very nice of the tree.” He raised a brow at the dark squiggles off to the side. “And those?” 

“The shadows are dancing!” She supplied. “And the sun’s up, so they’re not doing it very well. But they’ll be dancing until they can’t dance anymore.” 

“That’s dedication to the craft right there. Reminds me a bit of the old versions of Snow White, with the red iron shoes.” 

“What happens in that?” 

“The mother character is forced to wear smolderingly hot shoes until she drops.” 

‘Okay. Then the shadows do, too!” Out came a red crayon, Nina making hasty edits to her squiggles. “Now they’ll dance until they drop.”

“That’s great, Nina.” For the record, he hadn’t laughed. He was so earning those cookies. 

She went on to the ‘birds’ and added red to their ‘feet’. 

“...Watcha doin’?” 

“Everyone’s dancing, so everyone gets shoes.” She didn’t stop there. 

“Even the tree?”

“Yep!”

“...Aaaand the animal friends?” 

“Everyone’s dancing!” 

“And dropping?” 

“Mhm!” 

“...Oookay then.” 

When she started scribbling red onto the moon, Ed looked away, a hand over his mouth to stifle what were not snickers. He was just… yawning. In rapid succession. 

“Anywho-” Pause. 

After a moment, Nina looked at him. “Little Big Brother?” 

He tilted his head, eyes unfocused and brow creased. “Is someone at the door?” 

She didn’t know; the door was down the hall and there was no way to see the front yard from the dining room. 

“I’ll go check.” Ed drew himself up, twitching at a distant clank . His face brightened. “Al’s back!” He relayed. 

“No he’s not.” Nina said confusedly. 

“He’s outside.” Ed explained, waving his hand dismissively. “We can’t see him yet. 

“How do you know if we can’t see him?” 

He poked her ear. “We have more senses than just sight.” before walking off to great his brother. 

The moment he opened the door, a wall of white fur, muscle, and fat came crashing into him. (It-) “Easy, easy!” Ed said, trying to block Alexander from lapping at his face. Alexander, for his part, was more than willing to go for his hands. Probably smelt the dough. Ew. 

Alphonse sighed, snow falling from him as he went to help separate the two. 

“Didja-mph!” Ed was fighting a losing battle. Finally, Al just wrapped his arms around Alexander’s barrel and hoisted him up into the air. “Thanks.” Ed said. 

“Did you go to the market?” Al asked, unable to offer his brother a hand up off the ground. 

“Eyup. Couldn’t get everything , buuuut we were able to get enough to have some fun.” 

“What couldn’t you get?” 

“Ehhhhh…” Ed tried to remember the exacts. He failed. “How’s about I just show you what we did get.” 

Ever patient, Al agreed, carrying Alexander with him. 

Nina was watching from the dining room doorway. “Wow! It really is Big Little Brother. How’d you know?” 

“I listened.” Ed winked. “Practice enough and you might be able to do it, too. 

“Like the birds?” 

He hummed, “Maybe. You try and let me know how it goes.” 

“Okay!”

She scurried off to the table, showing her drawings to the newly released Alexander. 

Al considered the kitchen, pleased. “Did you had fun, Brother?” 

“Yes.” Ed conceded, drooping dramatically. He popped back up, “What about you? See any cute animals? How’re your joints?” 

“Oh! I saw the cutest kitty there– he had this giant, plush cone on that looked like a sunflower! And then there was this other pet, a chinchilla, which I’d never seen before but is definitely going on the list.” 

Ed gave a good natured huff, “Right next to foxes?” 

“Hey- there is nothing wrong with foxes.” 

“Except for their unending violence.”

“Brother.” 

“Never again is any Ed safe.” 

“She was trying to feed her kits.” 

“Human meat; exquisite.” 

“Brother!” 

“Also, we don’t know if she was a she or a he.” 

“But she had the eyes of a mother.” 

“The eyes. Of a mother. Okay.” 

“Didn’t you see her with her kits?” 

“Right after she tore into my shoulder? Yeah. I saw them.” Ed snickered. 

“How can you be so cruel?” Al asked exasperatedly. 

“All I’m saying is that if we ever see a fox again, I had better get some recognition.” 

“Brother-”

“You are what you eat. They are all of the Ed now. Even have matching coats.” 

“Ed.”

“I mean–” Ed took up and swooshed about his coat, “Look at it.” 

“Look at these, big brothers!” Nina interjected, a picture above her head. 

“Ooh, what are those, Nina?” Al asked. 

“Our little sister slaughtered an entire citizenry through cruel and unusual methods.” Ed stated, earning a swat to the (good) shoulder. 

“They’ll all dance, and the shadows will dance, too!” Nina chirped. 

“That’s really sweet, Nina. What are-”

Gravely, Ed said “And so it begins.” 

Alexander made to pillage a cooling cookie. Ed batted lightly at his snoot to shoo the massive hound away. 

Just then, the lights cut out. Ed or Al– or maybe even Tucker, if he was up– would have to venture off to fiddle with the wiring in the basement. For now though, Nina squeaked and hid behind her hands. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Ed assured. He cupped her face and gave it a squish. “The shadow’s here, want to go eat cookies while I’m downstairs to show them where they can stay?” 

“Magic shadows?” She asked tearfully. 

He ruffled her head. “Magic is just science we don’t understand. Your big brothers will be right back.” 

Alphonse was snickering to himself as they left the kitchen. 

“Hm?” Ed asked. 

“You’re a vixen.” Al said.

Ed flipped his hair, a foxish grin on his face. “Glad we’re on the same page.” 

“Did Nina draw us as birds?” 

“Hey, I can be both. Enfields are a thing.” 

“Not what I meant, but okay.” 

“Are we both fabulous and utterly amazing? Yes. Yes, we are.” 

Al gave another long suffering sigh. “Okay, brother.” 

“I’m right, you know.” 

“Sure.” 

From the kitchen, petting Alexander and chowing down on some melty cookies, “Magic shadows!”