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It was an act of desperation, the first time.
Ed just really wanted Al to eat his stupid breakfast.
But he refused and he was crying about it and having a full-blown temper tantrum because he was four and by God Ed was only five and not above having a good temper tantrum himself but he was the older brother and he had to be the grown up here because there was no one else to do it—
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
But their mother was gone, and there was no one else to do it.
Granny Pinako helped—with grocery shopping and mending things and making sure they got a good warm meal most every day.
But she wasn’t their Granny and she couldn’t be there all the time and she still lived on a whole other hill, half an hour’s walk from their house.
So it was on Ed to make sure that Al was fed and dressed and clean, that he brushed his teeth and was on time for school and didn’t stay up all night reading (even though that’s what Ed wanted to do too).
He didn’t know how, but it had to be done, and so he did it.
He tried to remember what their mother had done, her calm and gentle voice, her patience, the way she had a solution for absolutely anything.
Ed wasn’t like that.
He couldn’t be calm and gentle and patient. He tried.
But he barely knew how to take care of himself, let alone a whole other person, even if that person was someone he loved like no one and nothing else in the world.
His only family, his baby brother, his Al.
Al, who wouldn’t eat his stupid breakfast and wouldn’t stop crying about it but wouldn’t tell him why, and Ed’s nerves were just about ready to snap.
“Alphonse Willoughby Elric! I swear to God, if you don’t stop crying right now—”
And then he did. He stopped crying all at once, and stared at Ed with his large, wet eyes. Then he scrunched up his nose as he did when he was thinking.
“Willoughby? I don’t have a middle name.” He hesitated. “Do I?”
“Well—”, Ed huffed, crossing his arms before his chest. “No, but … Alphonse Elric just didn’t feel like enough. I needed more syllables to express how cross I am.”
Alphonse blinked at him. “So you just made one up?”
“Yeah.” Ed shrugged.
“Why Willoughby?”
“I don’t know! Who cares!” Ed shrugged again. “It was just the first one that came to me.”
And Alphonse laughed. His face still red and cheeks wet with tears, but the giggle broke out of him unbidden. It was, as far as Ed could remember, the first time he had well and truly laughed since their mother had passed away.
It was the best sound he’d heard in weeks.
Everything was a little less terrible after that.
Alphonse managed to explain to Ed that he couldn’t stand the texture of the porridge, and Ed could find him something else to eat.
Ed devoured both of their helpings of porridge with a generous dollop of honey while Alphonse nibbled on his buttered toast.
And after breakfast, Alphonse helped him put away the dishes, and they could dive back into their research on how to bring their mother back.
Alphonse had lost count of how often his eyes had drifted shut. He felt drowsy, all his thoughts covered in a heavy layer of fuzziness. He kept having to shake himself out of half-remembered fragments of dreams.
"Brother", he said for the dozenth time, his voice increasingly a whine, "please let's just go to bed. We're not gonna get anything else done tonight anyway."
"I just want to get through this chapter", Ed muttered, not even taking his eyes off the page.
"You said that about the last chapter too! I'm tired, let's just get some sleep. The book will still be here in the morning."
"I just want to bring back mum as fast as possible. Don't you want that?" Ed wrote down something in his notebook, distracted.
"Of course I do!", Al said, voice dripping with indignation. "But we're not gonna get there tonight, and we need sleep in order to be able to think straight."
“I‘m fine. I can keep going. You go to sleep if you want.“
“Wha—no, I‘m not gonna go sleep on my own!“
Ed turned a page, still not looking up. “Then either help me or stop whining.“
Al stared at him, mouth open. “Don‘t be so mean, big brother!“
“I‘m not mean.“ Ed looked up finally, just to glare at him. “But I‘d be done much faster if you stopped bothering me.“
“Are too!“ Al stomped his foot emphatically. “Put down the book, we‘re going to sleep now.“
Ed ignored him, eyes fully fixed down on the page in front of him again.
Al took a deep breath. “Edward Cornelius Elric!“
Ed looked up again.
There was a pause.
He blinked, perplexed.
"Did you just ...?"
Al put his hands on his hips and meet his stare defiantly. "You heard me."
Another moment's silence, then Ed sniggered, shaking his head as he ran a palm over his face. When he looked up again his expression had softened. "Alright, fine." He slid a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. "Let's go to sleep."
"Thank you!", Al said, throwing his hands up. "Took you long enough."
"Yeah, yeah", Ed muttered, climbing to his feet from where he'd been hunching on the floor and brushing dust off his trousers. "Just for a few hours though! Then it's back to work."
"Sure, brother", Al said, knowing full well that as soon as Ed's head touched a pillow he would be dead to the world for at least twelve hours, given how long he hadn't taken a break. "As soon as you wake up we'll get back to work."
Ed nodded, satisfied, and finally followed Al out of the study.
"Alphonse Casimir Elric!"
The way Al stiffened and ducked his head, pulling it low between his shoulders, told Ed all he needed to know.
"I knew it! You took the last piece of pie, didn't you?"
There was a suspiciously long pause. "No, I didn't."
Ed scowled. "Yes you did. I know you did and Teacher's gonna kill us because she was saving the last piece for Sig when he gets home from South City tonight!"
Al looked at him then, the poorly concealed guilt on his face slowly giving way to unadulterated panic. "Nuh uh."
"Oh yes! And she'll kill me more because she'll think I did it because she still falls for your stupid innocent face, or even if she knows it was you it'll still be my fault because I'm the older brother and I should have made sure you didn't, and then I'll be dead and then you'll be the one left without a brother so there! You only have yourself to blame!"
“I didn’t know!” Al whined, hopping from one foot to the other like he was walking on hot coals. “What am I going to do?”
Ed narrowed his eyes at the pie tin that had only a few crumbs left in it, considering. “Go check in the pantry if there’s any apples left”, he finally said. “If we’ve got the ingredients, it’s gotta be possible to transmute a pie, right?”
It soon became a habit, and as the years passed, the names they chose got a little more pointed at first—and then a little more blunt.
They made a point of never using the same name twice and each of them had started to compile a list in their heads, the meanings of names surreptitiously looked up while their brother was busy with something else.
Abbadon—Destruction—when Edward had broken something again in his carelessness.
Brennan—meaning wet or tearful—when Alphonse was whining and pouting again.
Giles—signifying a young goat—to poke at Edward’s wilful stubbornness.
And Kennedy—ugly head—because … well.
At some point, however, these covert references turned out not to be quite enough to adequately express their frustration.
It was only a few weeks after Ed’s automail surgery.
Granny Pinako had said it was too early for him to be out of bed, but did Ed listen? Of course he didn’t!
The moment Pinako’s back was turned, he sat up in bed with a grunt, pulling back the sheets to try and swing his legs—leg—out of bed. His face was scrunched into a grimace of one part concentration, two parts pain.
“Brother”, Alphonse said, a tinny sigh echoing from his helmet, “you really shouldn’t get up. It’s too soon, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“Eh.” Ed waved his words away with his left before using it to carefully scoot forward, closer to the edge of the bed. “It’s boring to just be lying around all day. Besides, how am I supposed to get used to these if I don’t move around?” He nodded down towards the port on his thigh, the scar tissue surrounding it still tender and pink.
Al made a doubtful noise, watching Ed’s tentative progress, stretching his right leg down until his toes reached the floor. “Granny knows what she’s talking about, brother. She’s been doing this for a long time. If she says you’re not ready—”
Ed scowled at him. “Are they her limbs or mine? I know what I can do, okay? I’m fine.” Once his foot was somewhat firmly on the floor, he pushed himself off the edge of the bed with his left hand, slowly putting his weight on his leg.
He didn’t even have any actual automail limbs yet, Granny had said the ports needed to be fully healed before they could even think about attaching the automail she and Winry had prepared for Ed. So there he stood on his one leg, tentatively moving what remained of his left thigh back and forth, though clearly engaging the muscles was hurting him.
“Brother …” Al was on his feet before he even knew it, arm half-outstretched in anticipation of Ed falling. “I can see you’re in pain. Please, you don’t have to push yourself—”
“Alphonse Fussbudget Elric!”, Ed snapped, glaring at him. “Would you give it a rest already? Of course I have to push myself! One year, that’s what I told you, and one year it’s going to be! I won’t have you stuck in that body any longer than necessary!”
“But—”
Ed’s glare intensified.
Al hesitated, then sank back onto his seat, hands resting uselessly in his lap as he watched Ed’s ministrations.
There was a long pause.
“Fussbudget? Really?”
“Let me go! I just wanna talk.”
“Sure you do, brother.” Alphonse did not so much as shift his iron grip on Ed’s shoulder. Here was another advantage this body had: if Al didn’t want him to, his brother wasn’t going anywhere. “Just ignore them, it’s not worth it.”
“But did you hear what—”
“Yes, I heard what they said”, Alphonse said patiently. “They are very rude. But they are also the ones giving us access to those manuscripts, so if you want to see them, I suggest you calm down.”
“I’m a damn State Alchemist! I’ll make them show us if I have to.”
Al pulled Ed back a little further, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Edward Gingersnap Elric, listen to me. Yes, you could make them, and I’m sure they’d comply only just as far as they would be obliged to. But if we want to have any hope of having them actually help us, we’ll have to play nice.”
Ed deflated, though his glare at the couple still watching them with raised eyebrows did not diminish. “I hate that.”
Al squeezed his shoulder. “I know. Me too.”
Ed cast a dubious look up at him, making Al chuckle weakly.
“I do, believe it or not. You think I like hearing them talk about you that way?” He shook his head with a soft squeak of metal. “But that’s just another reason why I want to restore out bodies as fast as possible, even if it means swallowing our pride sometimes.”
“You’re right.” Ed glowered down at his ungloved right hand, flexing it slowly. “I know you’re right.”
“Of course I am”, Al said brightly, giving Ed a last squeeze before letting go of his shoulder and turning his eyes on the couple.
“Mr and Mrs Brownhill, was it?”, he said with all the passive aggressive politeness he could muster. “I’m so sorry for my brother’s temper. Sometimes his mouth just runs away with him, you know how it is …”
“Good morning Edward, Alphonse.” Hawkeye’s smile was mild and her eyes sharp, as always. “To what do we owe this pleasure? I don’t think you have an appointment with the Colonel, do you?”
“Nah”, Ed waved her words away and a hello to the rest of the team before all but collapsing on the couch in the front office—though he was fairly certain he managed to pass it off as a careless sprawl. “We just had some other business to take care of here, and figured we’d stop by just to say hi.”
“Really?” Breda raised his eyebrows as Al gingerly half-sat, half-leant on the couch’s armrest. “I’ve never known you to willingly come within teasing distance of the Colonel, chief.”
Ed held back a grimace and instead lifted his left to tap the side of his nose. “Ah, but he’s not here, is he? Heard he’s back in Central for this year’s State Alchemist exams.”
“That’s right.” Breda laughed. “Nothing gets past you, chief.”
Alphonse gave a pointed snort, which Ed countered with an equally pointed glare.
Hawkeye watched them with eyebrows raised. “Anything the matter?”
“Oh, it’s nothing”, Ed said, narrowing his eyes at Al, who looked away. “Just a little inside joke.”
Al said nothing.
“So …” Ed draped his arm over the backrest and looked around the office. “What’s new? Where’s Havoc?”
“He went with the Colonel”, Hawkeye said, shuffling some papers on her desk, “since I was needed here this week.”
Ed huffed. “Must have been nice to have some peace and quiet for a change, with those two gone.”
Hawkeye said nothing, but the ghost of a smile on her lips told him he wasn’t wrong.
“At least until you showed up.”
“Hey!” Ed whipped around to glare at Breda, and hissed at the sing of pain that shot through his spine at the sudden movement.
All eyes turned on him.
“Are you okay, Edward?”
“Just fine”, Ed said quickly, forcing a grin on his face, “must have pulled a muscle or something the other day.”
Hawkeye’s eyebrows raised and Ed knew Al’s would have too, if he had any. He managed to look plenty reproachful without an expression, though.
“It’s not a big deal”, Ed muttered.
Al made a doubtful noise.
“Al.” Ed’s voice was sharp, but he knew it wouldn’t change anything.
“It’s a big enough deal that you wanted to come here to rest a bit before walking all the way back to the dorm.”
There was a pointed moment of silence.
“Are you hurt, Edward?”, Hawkeye said, already getting to her feet.
“I’m fine—”
“He was shot”, Al cut across him.
The team gasped and Ed groaned.
“Alphonse Shit-For-Brains Elric, could you make it sound any more dramatic? It didn’t even hit me!”
“Yes, it did!”
Ed rolled his eyes. “Only the automail. That doesn’t count.”
The team followed their exchange with furrowed brows, clearly torn on whether to worry or not.
“By a millimetre or two! The force of the impact alone—”, Al turned to face Hawkeye. “His chest and shoulder look like a whole bouquet of wildflowers, you should see it.”
Ed sighed. "It's just a little bruised and sore. I'll be good as new in a few days."
Hawkeye watched him critically. "It hit your shoulder, then? How did this happen?"
"It doesn't matter, I—"
"Just at the edge of the port, yeah. Right where the nerves connect to it."
A collective wince went through the team.
“Al, will you stop doing that already?!”
"A bullet reaches a velocity of up to 500 metres per second, depending on calibre", Falman said, scratching at his chin. "That's gonna do some damage, even if the bullet doesn't break skin. All of that force has to go somewhere."
Hawkeye nodded. "Have you seen a doctor?"
"Why would I? I'm not hurt!", Ed said, throwing up his arms and immediately regretting it.
"An automail technician, then?"
"I called Winry", Al said, "She said as long as the automail works as usual there shouldn't be a problem, but I'm taking him to Resembool to get a check-up anyway."
Ed rolled his eyes. "What's the purpose of even asking her, if you're not gonna listen to what she says?"
Al gave him a deadpan look. "We don't have to go to Resembool if you go see a doctor. It's your choice."
"Ugh, you're the worst." Ed groaned. "And yet somehow I'm the one who gets called a bonehead."
"Because you are. Edward Bonehead Elric. it's right there in your name, I don't make the rules."
“No, we‘re not doing that.”
“Why not? The Colonel said—”
“That’s why.”
“What?”
“We‘re not doing that because Colonel Useless suggested it. He doesn‘t know what he‘s talking about.”
“… are you kidding me? You‘re rejecting it just because it was the Colonel who said it? It‘s a good plan!”
“Eh.” Ed shrugged. “I have a better one.”
“Brother! I dare you to name one thing that‘s wrong with the Colonel‘s plan.” When Ed opened his mouth, Al cut across him. “Except the fact that it‘s the Colonel‘s plan.”
There was a long pause, then Ed shrugged again.
“See?”
“We‘re still not doing it.”
“Edward Contrary Cause Fuck You Elric, can you for once in your life—”
Ed gasped in exaggerated indignation, a hand placed dramatically on his chest. “Alphonse Pottymouth Elric! Such language out of your mouth!”
“Wha—” Al put his hands on his hips. “Please, you say much worse than that a dozen times a day!”
“Yeah, but I‘m allowed.”
“Why? Just because you‘re a year older—”
“Well …” Ed tilted his head in mock consideration. “Being the older brother has to come with some perks, right? If I don‘t get to be taller or beat you at sparring, and now you can do circleless alchemy too … I think it‘s only fair that I‘m allowed to swear as much as I fucking want.”
“Ah, when you put it like that …” Al tapped his chin, managing to somehow look smug. “I guess I can let you have this.”
Ed gave a satisfied nod before Al continued.
“But we‘re still doing the Colonel‘s plan.”
Alphonse was shivering.
It was glorious.
It allowed him to feel every corner of his newly restored body, down to the last fingertip.
He felt cold.
That was okay—he hadn’t felt cold in so long, and he wouldn’t be for much longer, now that he’d been taken to the hospital and bundled up in a bed in a nice, warm—well, warm anyway—hospital room.
His brother was in the bed next to his, having adamantly refused to leave his side even as he’d practically swayed on his feet, dizzy with blood loss and who knew what else.
He’d tried, of course, to shoo away the doctors, insisting that he was fine even as blood was still running down the side of his face. The moment they had gotten him to sit down, however, Alphonse could see how the strain of the day settled on him, making his eyelids heavy and his movements sluggish.
“You’re still shaking.”
Alphonse had rolled on his side so he could better see Ed, but Ed was on his back, with both his left arm and his right shoulder busted, just his head turned towards Al.
“I’m okay, brother”, Al said with an indulgent smile. “Just warming up still. It’ll wear off soon.”
Ed made a doubtful noise but said no more, just kept watching him with a sharp crease between his eyebrows.
“Really, brother, I’m fine. No need to worry.”
“I’ll worry if I want to”, Ed grumbled.
“You …”—Al couldn’t hold back a giggle—”… fussbudget!” He threw the pillow he’d been squishing in his arms at his brother’s frowning face—or tried to, at least. His skinny arms couldn’t even handle that much, and the pillow flopped sadly onto the floor between their two beds.
Ed gave him a flat look. “And now you have no pillow.”
Al shrugged. “I have another”, he said, indicating the one his head was resting on, but Ed was already pushing himself up on his bed with a put-upon sigh.
Al watched him with a fond smile as he padded over to the pillow on mismatched feet, and bent down to retrieve it.
There was a sharp cry of pain and Ed froze.
"Brother?” Al’s smile froze too as Ed wrapped an arm around his stomach and slowly sank to his knees next to the pillow. “Brother, What's the matter? Are you okay?"
He was pale when he looked up at Al. “Fine, I just …fuck.” He pressed the words out between gritted teeth.
A thrill of panic ran through Al. “Nurse!”, he called, unable to take his eyes off Ed, “Someone, help!”
It only took a moment before a nurse hurried into the room and, taking in Ed hunched over on the floor, knelt down next to him.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, he just went to pick up the pillow and—”, Al grimaced, “I’m sorry, brother, I shouldn’t have—”
Ed tried to wave him away, but at the movement his face contorted with more pain and the only sound coming out of his mouth was a hiss as he bit back a scream.
The nurse ducked her head, trying to get a look at Ed’s face, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Where does it hurt, Edward?"
"My side", Ed pressed out, then, with a glance at Al added, "It's not that bad, just ... unexpected."
The nurse, after checking over the area that Ed indicated, nodded, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "It might be a broken rib that has shifted. I'll go get a doctor, try not to move."
"Peachy." Ed drew in a breath through his nose and released it slowly through his mouth while the nurse hurried off. He had pressed his hand to his side and as soon as the door closed he sank fully onto the floor, head resting on the errant pillow, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Brother ..." Al pushed himself up into a sitting position with some effort.
"I'm fine, Al ", Ed said immediately, but the strained quality of his voice undercut the words quite significantly.
"You don't look fine." Al shifted his weight to swing his legs out of bed.
"Rude."
"You don't sound fine either!"
Ed huffed, and Al wasn't sure if the grimace was aimed at him or just caused by the pain. "it's nothing. Just—stay in bed. You don't have to—"
"It's clearly not nothing." Edging himself forward, Al tentatively set his shaky feet on the floor. "I’m sorry I made you get up, I—"
"Alphonse Middle Name Elric, you get back in that bed right now."
It was enough to snap Al out of the haze of worry that made him shiver more than the cold.
"Middle Name?"
Ed wheezed, hand still pressed firmly to his side. "Cut me some slack, my brain is kinda focused on other things right now."
Al snorted a laugh in spite of himself. "Brother! This is serious."
"And I'm serious about you getting back in bed. Al, you can barely stand. The last thing we need is for you to collapse and hurt yourself too." He grimaced and took a few moments to just breathe. "You heard the nurse, she's getting someone who can help."
"But—"
"And what good is your hovering gonna do?"
Al sank back on the mattress with a whine. He knew Ed was right, but it just didn't feel right to sit here and do nothing when his brother was hurting. Gnawing at his lips, he watched Ed's rapid, shallow breaths, occasionally throwing an impatient glance at the door.
"Stop fretting, Al." Ed's strained voice belied his words. "It's just a broken rib probably. I've had way worse."
"You don't know that." Al pursed his lips. "What if it punctured your lung?"
Ed huffed. "I don't think I'd be talking to you if that was the case. Really, it’s not that bad. I’ve had"—he sucked in a breath and released it slowly—”broken ribs before. It’ll heal.”
Al twisted the sheets between his fingers. “I—I’m sorry. Just because I …”
“Al.” Ed’s eyes on him were tired and narrowed with pain, but firm. “I got thrown around kinda a lot today. This did not happen because of your damn pillow, okay?
“But if you hadn’t gotten up …”
“I’d have gotten up to pee or whatever eventually. And then I wouldn’t have had a nice comfy pillow to lay down on. So really I should thank you.”
Al couldn’t hold back a snort. “Uh … you’re welcome?”
Ed gave a satisfied nod, pillow rustling. “See, I know I taught you some manners.”
The team exchanged uneasy glances.
They had seen the Elric brothers bickering countless times in the years they had known them, even arguing sometimes, but rarely had it gotten this heated.
“Are you insane? No, absolutely not!”
“Of course you did! You even told me yourself!”
“That’s bullshit! I did not! I think I’d remember that.”
Edward was actually shaking. Alphonse‘s voice was sharper than Breda had ever heard it.
He had no idea what they were actually fighting about, the clues they could pick up from context not forming a coherent picture, at least not to him. Judging by the puzzled looks on the others‘ faces not to them either.
The brothers, both of them back from their travels for a brief visit, had stopped by the office to say hello. And what started with passive aggression like only Alphonse Elric could deliver and a snide remark from Edward had quickly devolved into a full on shouting match.
“What, you think I’d lie to you about this? Why would I even do that, I—”
“Honestly, maybe you would! I don’t know anymore, not after—”
“Boys—“ It wasn‘t the Lieutenant‘s first attempt to cut in and try to de-escalate, but if they could even hear her over the sound of their own screams, they were soundly ignoring her.
“What does that even have to do with it?”
“You did the exact same thing then! You don’t listen, because of course whatever you say is correct—”
“Edward, Alphonse, please—“
“That’s rich, coming from you! Because you’re so good at admitting when you’re wrong?”
“I might not like to admit it, but at least I can drop it when I know I’m wrong, and don’t just double down on principle.”
“I do not! I’m not wrong! Just because you misremember—”
“And who says I’m the one misremembering? Why can’t you be the one who’s misremembering things?”
Breda saw irritation twitch over Hawkeye‘s face and braced himself. The Lieutenant was not an irritable person, but she did not like to be ignored.
She drew herself up to her full height, though both brothers were now taller than her.
“Edward Gideon Elric! Alphonse Geronimo Elric!“ It was the same tone she used when giving orders on the rare occasion that she did have to pull rank, and it cut across the shouts, neatly slicing them into silence.
Both brothers stared at her, eyes wide and mouths hanging open with bafflement.
The silence stretched until the brothers glanced at each other and the moment their eyes met, they burst out laughing.
“Oh my God, how did you—“ Edward was almost doubled over, arm wrapped around his stomach as he wheezed.
Alphonse tried to stifle his snorts behind a hand clasped over his mouth, but Breda could see his eyes watering.
The other soldiers watched the Elrics’ outburst, puzzled, while Hawkeye deflated a little with relief.
It went on for far too long because every time Ed and Al looked at each other, they would dissolve into laughter all over again.
When it finally tapered off, Ed straightened up, out of breath and wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “What the hell, Hawkeye”, he said, a little hoarse, “why—how did you know to do that?“
Hawkeye just raised an eyebrow at them. “Please, I‘ve known you two for how long now? How many times do you think you have bickered in front of us? It didn‘t take much to pick up on it.”
Which, Breda supposed, showed once again why Hawkeye was the sniper among them, because he still had no idea what there was to pick up on.
“But how … I don‘t think—” He exchanged a glance with Alphonse, who shook his head slightly, pressing his lips together against another giggle rising up. “I don‘t think either of us has used either of those names before. How did you come up with them so fast? Did you have these prepared?”
Her expression didn‘t change, but Breda was fairly sure he saw her cheeks pink. “Of course not. I merely chose names I did not remember hearing from you before.”
Edward ran a hand over his face with a fond chuckle. “You‘re incredible.” He turned and fixed his eyes on Alphonse again, pointing a threatening finger at him, though a smile was still playing around his lips. “We‘re not done talking about this! But …”—he glanced around them—“... this may not be the time or place.”
Breda snorted. “Trying to be considerate of those around you? You really have grown up, huh?”
The fact that Edward did not start shouting again at this but just threw him a good-natured glare, only served to further prove his point.
“I guess I found out how to be patient after all.”