Chapter Text
It had taken them approximately 5 years for him and Al to get settled in this new world.
Upon offering to sacrifice his ability to transmute for his brother’s body, Truth had offered him a different option—
—one entirely disentangled from everything they knew.
That being said, Truth said that their safety upon arrival would be guaranteed, and they could make it back to their original universe if Ed saved three thousand people there. Due to Al’s severely emaciated and ill body that wasn’t super likely to survive rehabilitation in their world, he agreed readily.
Given that they had managed to save their entire country in just a few years, he had thought it to be an easy task.
Oh how mistaken he was.
The first six months were spent in hospital-bound recovery. Neither were too happy with that fact, of course, but given the fact that they had to learn a whole new language—English was surprisingly hard for the two child geniuses—and figure out a game plan for their future, they already had a lot on their plate.
The cops had assumed their language was a form of cult-like control, going off the assumption that they had escaped some form of encampment and suffered from amnesia brought on by trauma. It was an easy enough cover story to follow, so they went along with whatever they had thought happened to them.
The next six months after they were discharged were spent with a host family in an emergency foster care home, and they had help getting their GEDs—the equivalent to a high school diploma, which they learned was necessary for most jobs and any further education in this world—and had no problem getting into college. In fact, due to their circumstances and academic proficiency, both had been awarded more than enough to get them all through four years, provided they don’t drop out.
Al had an easy time figuring out what course he wanted to go down. Being a lab tech opened all sorts of opportunities in different fields, after all, so he had a backup plan even if he wanted to change career paths. Plus it put his knowledge of chemistry and the like to work. Ed, on the other hand, had struggled at first.
He thought a pure chemistry major would be up his alley, but then he had remembered the Rockbells—sure he wasn’t mechanically gifted so he couldn’t make any kind of automail in this new world on his own, but medicine seemed to be a fitting choice to honor their memories and gifts they had bestowed upon him. And, besides, it would help his goal tremendously.
And so he began his first year as a new student, a bit later than his brother, but he didn’t mind. It went by relatively slow, and before he knew it, he was starting internships in his third year. In that time, not only had he and Al become well accustomed to living in this strangely futuristic world, but they had learned some of its history, as well.
They had assumed the masks and curfews were originally the baseline for this universe. Only after their third year, when restrictions began to lift and the public was allowed back out again, they had learned how truly wrong they were.
Apparently the ever-present police wasn’t average here, nor was the endless contamination protection. This world had been facing their first pandemic in decades.
Both he and Al had caught it during their original stay in the hospital while Al’s emaciated body tried to recuperate, and it had been anything but pleasant. Neither of them had died though, and they were given vaccines to prevent them from catching any of this world’s other more dangerous mysterious illnesses. Of course there were things like the common flu that they had back home, but its strain differed greatly from the strains that existed here, so even something as common as pollen allergies was something to be wary of.
Their immune systems simply hadn’t been accustomed to the new chemical makeups. It was worth getting sick a bunch in that first year to eventually be able to sit back and relax without fear of dying from something like strep throat.
Through all that came their way, the two brothers were determined to stick by one another and make it to the other side hand-in-hand.
Even picking PTMC as their latest internship of choice was no accident. Al had gotten accepted, so Ed tried his hand, as well. Of course he was practically guaranteed to be accepted due to his affluent academic prowess and formal way of writing (which he had the military to thank for). Plus, this world had computers, a luxury his still-missing arm was eternally grateful for. Nobody knew how bad his handwriting was when all documents were typed up nowadays.
And so, here he landed rather uneventfully, considering everything else they went through. Ed had done two other internships at this point—one with oncology (the idea of finding a cure for cancer had been one he toyed with often) and one with a pediatric ward. He was aiming for pedes, but thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a few other specialties under his belt, as well.
The first shift had been a fucking train wreck, as always seemed to be the case in his life, and no less exasperating. Everyone else working seemed to be on edge and unbelievably stressed for most of the day—understandable considering they experienced a mass casualty event in their first fucking day—but Ed had seen way more than any of these bozos, so he did alright. Whenever he would feel himself sinking, he would simply put those feelings and experiences in his box and move on.
Now he was almost a week into his month-long stay. He was on decent enough terms with people—they generally saw him as an annoying kid, but good at his job. Just what he liked.
A few hours before the end of his shift, however, his attending—Dr. Robinavitch, or Dr. Bitch as Ed liked to call him—had caught some of his blowback.
Their patient was a geriatric asshole who fought Ed every step of stitching his open and oozing forearm. He wasn’t even demented or anything, just a straight up dick.
“Get the fuck on with it!” The patient squirmed as he shouted.
Ed quipped back, “Calm your ass down, you sack of sagging skin!”
Dr. Bitch, keeping a steady eye on his intern from behind, responded, “I need you to watch your language, Elric. Remember that this is a patient, please.” He didn’t even sound angry, just tired. It was as though he was chastising a child instead of a fully grown adult.
He flicked his eyes to his superior as he answered with a rude, “Are you my goddamned dad? If you want to sew up a guy who’s actively moving and blaming you for any screw ups, then be my fucking guest! But, until then, I’m the one with the needle in this asshat’s arm, so shut the fuck up.”
Before he looked back down at the arm—finally sitting still, likely due to the surprise from the old man actually being called out—he saw Dr. Bitch’s eyes glower down at him while his smile lines creased with anger. “I expect you’ll meet me outside when this is done,” he said as an order instead of a question.
Ed didn’t answer, just continued to thread the needle as he had done a million times before.
The rest of the procedure went smoothly, thank god, and the old guy had surprisingly given him props for clipping back, telling him, “Young people nowadays have no backbone.”
When he exited the room, his attending was standing waiting for him.
“Follow me.”
Ed shoved his hands in his bright red hoodie and his combat boots squeaked across the linoleum floor as they walked. They didn’t go far, and Bitch pulled his arm into an empty conference room.
“What the hell, Elric?” He asked, again more as a statement than an actual question.
He crossed his arms. “You were the one distracting me while I had a needle halfway in a guy’s goddamn arm!” His eyes were narrowed and combative.
“Still,” the superior continued, more patient than was deserved, “you will never speak to me or another attending like that ever again, or you will be dismissed immediately. Am I understood?” His finger pressed against Ed’s frontside accusingly.
Ed thought to retort with a smartass comment like usual, but he reminded himself this isn’t the colonel. No need for witty banter.
“Tch, whatever, man.” It took all his willpower not to clip the greying man with his shoulder disrespectfully on the way out.
Later, after their shift was over and both had been (separately) invited to the park for a few beers, things got weird.
Ed had been mostly silent through their friendly exchanges—after all, he was only there for the free booze (and because Al still had another hour on his shift), not to socialize. Besides, after he saved his quota, he would be the hell outta dodge. He would never see any of these people again. Why bother forming useless attachments?
They left one by one. They all stayed longer than usual, granted, but they all inevitably decided they would rather be asleep in their bed than sitting on a rusty bench in the middle of an empty park at eight thirty at night.
Before eight forty five, it was just him and Dr. Bitch left.
The older man shifted awkwardly next to him, both on either end of the bench, leaving a full person between them. “So…” He began.
Ed cut him off. “Save it, dickface. I know what you’re gonna say.” He turned his head so the two of them were looking face to face. “I need to watch my fucking mouth. But it’s not my fault the guy was being an ass! Besides, I got the goddamn job done, didn’t I?”
Bitch huffed through his nose. “No, that’s not what I…”
Ed eyed him warily.
“Listen, kid.” Ed was ready to fight. “I just—you’ve been combative with me since the day you got here.”
Shit, he noticed that?
“And I wanted to ask… why? I don’t think I’ve done anything worth offense, and you haven’t raised any concerns with my actions.” His face was stern but genuine.
Well now he just felt like an ass.
He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh- Why? I mean…” He paused, his lack of a forthcoming answer surprising them both for different reasons. He had an idea that he did not like, and would much rather not blab about to his superior, thank you very much. “It’s—it’s nothing, seriously. I guess I’ll work on my ‘insubordination’ or whateverthefuck. It’s not worth talking about.”
The elder eyes him for a second before responding, “Shit, kid, we aren’t clocked in right now. I’m not your boss. Just a…” another awkward pause for the books, “… concerned third party.”
An odd choice of words to land on, but Ed supposed he didn’t really have a preference. He was just glad it wasn’t outright belittling.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, tangled strands long since abandoned by his hair tie and landing on his shoulder in a cascading waterfall of gold. “It’s just… Well, you look like my old man.” He looked away from the incoming eye contact.
In his peripheral, he could see he was right. Dr. Bitch tilted his head down so he’d be closer to eye level, and goddamnit that was insulting.
“How so?”
Non-judgemental, which was a good start for Ed, who expected to be embarrassed by his boss.
“You just look alike. Golden hair and a pair of glasses, I’d hardly be able to tell you two apart.” His eyes dropped back down to his hands as he picked away at the dry skin around his fingernails.
“Ah,” was the doctor’s unintelligent response.
Ah shit, he’d made this weird. He needed damage control.
“Except, of course,” Bitch looked back at him again, “he dressed way better than your sorry ass.” His sentence was punctuated with a smile tugging at the corners of his face.
Dr. Bitch mirrored it. “Oh yeah? What, old money or good job?”
“Hah! Old money. You don’t even know why that’s as funny as it is, idiot! My brother’s gonna have a field day with that!”
Their laughs were quiet and enjoyable, but eventually tapered off.
Bitch cut the silence. “You and your old man not get along? Is that why I bother you?” His question was heavy, but his face still held the ghost of a smile.
“I guess? The asshole left when Al and I were really young, came back for a few weeks when we were teenagers, and promptly died once shit was done hitting the fan. Never forgave the bastard for leaving our mom to die alone, though. I probably never will.” His grip tightened on the can.
“I see.”
Ed made eye contact with the older man. He was relaxed, a bit sorry, but overall taking his whole tragic backstory well. He awkwardly but brazenly landed a hand on his superior’s shoulder. “You’re not so bad, Robinabitch. At least now that I know that, I won’t be comparing you two.”
Before he had a chance to respond, Al came bounding down the sidewalk. “Brother! You won’t believe what happened today!” The smile on his face widened upon landing eyes on his older brother.
Standing, Ed responded, "Really? After all the shit we’ve been through, I didn’t think anything could surprise you.”
Al stopped when he was in front of the bench beside Ed. “Oh, who’s this? You didn’t tell me you were with a friend, brother!” He lightly smacked Ed’s arm.
“Agh, seriously Al?” He had the face of a kid caught with their hand in a candy jar. “This isn’t a friend, he’s my boss.”
“Oh!” Al said, surprised. “It’s nice to meet you! My name is Alphonse!” He held his hand out with a warm smile.
Dr. Bitch took it gratefully. “Nice to meet you as well, Alphonse.”
“Thank you for taking good care of my older brother! I know he can be brash, so if you ever need help with him, feel free to call me!” Al slid over a small business card from his pocket, which Dr. Bitch took with a chuckle.
“Will do, champ. You two crazy kids get home—this old man is about to crash on his couch while watching reruns of Friends.” The elder stood up and stretched his back a bit.
They were about to walk away when Ed stopped. “See you tomorrow… Dr. Robby.”
The boss would’ve laughed if Ed hadn’t said it with such a serious face.
“You too, Dr. Elric.”