Elricmas Fic!
Title: Epiphany
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romantic AU, Hurt/Comfort.
Spoilers: None. Mix of manga and animeverse.
Prompt: Written for Mikkeneko: An Elric with wings, and accompanying backache.
Roy found Al crouched next to the cold fireplace, the cheap quilted muslin of his robe puddling around his knees, loose hair falling forward to obscure his face. With exaggerated care the 16 year old lifted up a sheet of paper from a stack and crumpled it just so, then placed it amid a loose pyramid of other similar balls.
Roy put down the sacks of groceries unceremoniously on the middle of the cabin floor and curled his fingers automatically into a snap. He noticed the dog-eared, ink smudged envelope and the distinctive cream color of the stationary and aborted the movement with the shake of his hand. He sucked in a deep breath.
"Are you sure about this?" Roy asked as horror settled into his middle.
Al barely turned his head Roy's way. "Yes."
"You are throwing away years of research, everything you've studied, priceless theory. It's irreplaceable."
"I hope so" said Al, unusually grave. "If anyone else wants to follow us down this direction, he'll have to start from scratch. Maybe by the time he gets to this stage, he'll realize why he should burn his notes, too."
"There could be some good uses for them - some medical reasons. It could help with Ed. The alchemy is fascinating - astonishing."
"No," said Al firmly, pulling his hair over his shoulder so that he could level the full force of his disapproval at Roy. "There is nothing at all useful about these. Some medicines aren't worth the risk." Al hunched farther over and crumpled several sheets, tossing them into the fireplace. "You have no idea how close the reaction came to getting away from us. No idea. We could have… We thought we had a buffer zone out here in the woods, but it wasn't enough - not even close. We could have destroyed Xenotime and everyone in it. We could have been mass murderers."
Al grabbed the rest of the papers and tossed them on top of the little balls. "We can't trust what others could do with it. My life wasn't worth it. Ed's not worth it." Al folded the sturdy brown envelope in half.
Roy felt a little nauseated at the prospect of losing all the Elric's research, but it wasn't his decision. The Elrics looked to him for many things, as military liaison, intellectual rival, convenient warm body, but they kept their own counsel, and he was never part of that. The coded telegram that brought him to be in this cabin was merely a courtesy. The truth is, they didn't really need him. At least not as much as he wanted them to.
"Would you do the honors?" Al asked after a moment.
Roy snapped his fingers. Fire curled the top page, rolled it over and down the mound of papers and the tidy woodpile until it lodged between the grate and the wall. Roy could just make out Ed's rough penmanship before the page darkened and disintegrated into confetti. A billow of warmth took the sting out of the December air. The fire cracked and spat flat brief-lived embers around the brick firebox. For a moment both of them were mesmerized. The last of the balls of paper caught, opened like a flower before disintegrating.
Al closed the screen and rose up, a bit unsteady on his twig thin legs. With an absent minded tug he lifted the top of his thick socks higher up his shins, then straightened until the bulk of the robe hid all of his emaciated features, except for the spidery hands, and the haggard too-old face. Firelight caught the planes of his cheeks, and Roy saw for the first time in days Al seemed to be content.
"There, that ends it."
"How are you feeling, Al?" asked Roy, concerned.
"Alive." He took a deep breath and beamed.
"And Ed?" Roy asked.
"Better." Al's smile was gone again.
Roy heard a grunt coming from the cabin's single bedroom. He turned his head briefly at the noise, but it didn't seem as pained as it had been before he'd gone out. He turned back and carefully ladled some of the stew into a bowl. He sniffed, savoring the tang of beef, and debated putting a pinch of paprika to spice it up, but then pushed the thought aside. Neither Ed nor Al were up to eating anything too challenging. He could season his own dinner separately.
Balancing the bowl and a cup of tea on the faded flower print tray he'd scrounged in the rented kitchen, Roy walked carefully down the hall. Ed's door was cracked and with a gentle nudge of his shoulder he entered. The light from the bedrooms fireplace cast harsh and shifting shadows in the otherwise dark room. Roy's eyes were first drawn to stuffed animal heads mounted in a shotgun scatter across the far wall. Then he let his eyes drift down to the mound of blankets clustered on one side of the four poster.
Roy put the tray down on the end table and turned to see Ed's eyes glinting at him from the nest of bedding.
"I brought you some food," Roy said.
"Not hungry," Ed growled.
"Have you reconsidered seeing a doctor?"
Ed's eyes closed in a slow blink and for a moment Roy thought he might have drifted off, but then he opened them again. "I'm not suicidal enough for that. I've seen what the military does with … things like me."
"I wasn't suggesting a military doctor."
Ed glowered. "I'll be fine, Mustang. I'm better today than I was yesterday. Heaps better than the day before. I think I'm adjusting to the change."
"Well," said Roy. "Then you should eat."
With a grunt Ed pushed himself up. The feather blankets fell from his shoulder to his waist as he twisted sideways. His naked torso looked thinner than it had before the incident. Roy didn't remember the slight concave pit at the center of Ed's chest, nor the way his rib cage bent in above the smooth hairless stomach. Roy could believe that the journey through the Gate had been more exhausting and challenging this time than it had in the previous trips.
Ed's hair, sweat damp and nearly brown in the poor light, clung to cheeks. As he rocked himself into a sitting position, Ed rubbed the strands away with an irritated flick of his right hand. Then he paused and looked at the hand, turning it over and examining the knobby fingers as if he'd never seen anything like it before.
"Should have taken the automail off first," said Ed with a sigh. "If I'd been really thinking, it would have been obvious." He grabbed the handle of the spoon with exaggerated carefulness brought it up to his lips, blowing carefully over the bowl, before putting it in his mouth.
"I don't think that's obvious at all," said Roy grabbing a straight back chair from the wall and pulling it up. "I wouldn't have thought about it."
"Yeah you would," said Ed with a don't patronize me edge to his voice. "I mean it doesn't take a genius to realize that when you do an alchemic process you need to balance the sides of the equation. That's Alchemy 101. I knew that lesson when I was five." He shrugged his shoulders and straightened his back, wincing as if the movement hurt. "I gave my arm to put Al in the armor. I got the arm back when I took him out of it again.
"I should have known the automail would have to go somewhere. I suppose I'm lucky it didn't end up coming out of my face." Ed hissed and lay down on his side, clutching the thick duvet momentarily. "Mustang… Roy…" this time Ed's voice was less surly.
"Want me to rub it again?"
Ed arched his neck then looked at Roy again and nodded. His skin had an ethereal pallor, but the cheeks had taken on a new warmth. He looked angelic to Roy's romantic eye, something that might be found painted on the walls of a Letoist cathedral. The scientist in Roy knew the doll-like skin, bright eyes, and reddened lips were an artifact of the fever.
"I know this isn't how you expected you'd spend your vacation," Ed murmured somewhat apologetically. "I promise I won't hang off you much longer."
Roy didn't bother to straighten out the 'vacation' misperception. It was just another of the dozens of tiny convenient lies they told each other, dancing around the issue of trust. "I don't mind. It hasn't been boring. Being around you is always intellectually stimulating." I worry about you. I want to protect you. Let me in.
"Intellectually. Is that all?" There was a wistful look in Ed's eye.
"All that I think you are up to." Roy's lips twitched upwards and he shook his head. "And right now barely that."
Ed made a derisive snort. "I'm fine, but if you feel like nursing me, make yourself useful." Ed rolled onto his stomach.
Roy's stomach clenched involuntarily while he sized up the damage to Ed's back. Most of it was flawless - scars that Roy had once or twice in the past explored with playful fingers were missing and in their place skin so soft and fine that it could have belonged to a baby. But there, a hand span above the small of his back curving weirdly up to the middle of each of his shoulder blades, were two odd grotesque growths.
The misshapen and irregular cylinders of dark metal looked to the casual eye as if they were merely resting on Ed's skin. A closer look saw the way the skin of his back turned an angry pink and swelled around steel. As best as Roy was able to tell, the twisted and broken remains of his Ed's automail arm was enmeshed inseparably with the bone of his scapulae. Surgery was problematic. At least the Gate had done Ed the small favor of balancing the load.
Roy turned his attention away from the remnants of Ed's automail, and concentrated on the distressed muscles. Roy's hands moved inwards, gathering up the hot flesh, rolling and kneading it ever-so-gently in his hands, smoothing it down again with fan like motions. He paused to press with the balls of his thumbs into the marble-hard muscles clustered around his twisted shoulder blades. Then Roy smoothed his hands down either side of Ed's spine, feeling the muscles reluctantly release.
He paused, assessing. Ed's skin was still fever warm, but not as intensely hot than it had been the day before. Al was right, Ed was getting better.
"I can be stimulating," Ed replied, picking up the conversation as if there had been no delay. "Keep rubbing my back like that and I may surprise you." Ed flashed a leer. "That is if you aren't turned off by a freak."
Roy chuckled. "You are feeling better. I better not cash that check though."
"Yeah, of course not."
"And you aren't a freak, Ed. I didn't consider you one when were missing your arm, and certainly don't consider you one now you have it back." Roy considered. The growths were really not so large that they couldn't be hidden under loose clothes. Ed's days of wearing tank tops in public were gone, but the teen was used to hiding the more brow-raising parts of his body.
"I've always been a freak," Ed countered, with offhanded resignation. "What kind of preschooler reads his father's alchemy books - a freaky one."
"Well then, if that's the definition we are using, I guess I must like freaks. I enjoy Al's company greatly."
"Touch him and I'll have to kill you," said Ed, only half kidding.
Roy tsked. "I platonically enjoy your brother's company. One Elric chasing after me is more than enough."
"Chase is far too strong a word." Ed snorted softly. "I entice you to occasionally question your sexual orientation. Purely for a mutually beneficial… waste of time…" his voice trailed off. "Oh, yeah…"
Carefully, carefully Roy had leaned in and took one of the metal growths in his hand. He ran the palm of his hand up, over the humps and let his fingers slide into a set of parallel grooves. Unlike Ed's flesh, the surface didn't yield to pressure. They remained in their unique shapes no matter how Roy stroked them. Ed breathed a contented sigh.
"I wish I knew how you were able to feel that," Roy said. "The automail is so mangled and compressed, it can't possibly be sending your nerves any signals."
"Empirical data suggests otherwise," muttered Ed. "I don't know how either. But that feels awesome, keep doing that."
Roy continued. The metal was curiously warm, with just the faintest texture. "You'd be fascinating to study," Roy murmured. Ed's whole body stiffened. Roy didn't bother to suppress the chuckle. "But I'm afraid it will have to wait for some other time."
Ed relaxed again. "Maybe if you give me proper motivation, I'll let you."
Roy's hands moved to give Ed's lower back a cursory rub. The muscles there were not nearly as strained and melted under the rhythmic presses. "Always high maintenance. We can negotiate this price later," replied Roy, deliberately sidestepping the invitation.
Ed sighed, then laughed. Roy went back to work on his shoulders a bit but realized not long after that Ed had fallen asleep again.
Al and Roy sat across the intimate kitchen table and ate their soup. Roy smiled with amusement at the sheer pleasure with which the boy savored every sloppy bite, running a still clumsy finger under the corner of his lip to catch the overflow and sweep it back where it belonged. Al paused his more-or-less monologue mid phrase for several lingering seconds, then resumed exactly where he left off. Roy couldn't help but feel a smattering of pride in his small culinary skills.
Perhaps it was warmth of the fire, which had long since finished work on the Elric's precious notes and now was merrily crackling its way though a log. Perhaps it was Al's light hearted chatter about the myriad personal discoveries he'd made that day, but Roy felt as if deep dread had finally broken.
"So, Al," he said when there was a moment's lull. "Where are you two going now? I don't suppose Ed will stay with the military now that his reason for being in it is gone. And now that you are free of the armor, is there something you'd like to do with your life?" It was something Roy had wondered about on and off ever since he'd gotten the coded telegram hinting at their plans, but he hadn't meant for it to come out so directly.
Al looked vaguely disconcerted.
And Roy inwardly kicked himself. It wasn't even a full four days since Al had gotten his body back. It was utterly unfair to pressure him to present a tidy plan for his future, when Roy himself was struggling with the very same prospect. The Fuhrer, the homunculi, the deep intractable corruption in the military, and endless nonsensical wars. He didn't even know where to start picking apart that Gordian knot. There were days when he wondered if it were hubris to even consider himself up to the task.
He didn't want to lose the Elric's help. He need to construct the right arguments, cunning rationalizations that would somehow keep them with him.
After letting the silence hold for just a moment too long Al finally answered. Roy expected something simple: I don't know, or perhaps I guess I'll see what comes. But like everything about the Elrics, his answer was both profound and obvious.
"We're going to save the country." Then at Roy's expression he laughed. "You didn't think we were going to let you do it all by yourself, did you?"
In the cabin's greatroom Al shook out some thick blankets on the couch and settled himself down for another night. Roy turned off the sconce-less light on in the stubby hall and quietly opened the door to bedroom. The fire there had crackled down to dully glowing embers. Roy felt a ribbon of cooler air waft across his feet, and smelled a strong scent of wet pine. Ed must have opened a window at some point.
Crossing the floor with care, using his memory more than his eyes, he found his way to the offending window, and quietly pulled down the sash. Ed didn't stir until Roy had made his way to the bed, undressed and tried to gently pull some of the covers for himself.
"No kiss?"
Roy chuckled and rolled over, searching clumsily through the blankets for Ed. There was a bit of blind maneuvering, which fetched Roy a mouthful of hair, but then he found Ed's lips. They were a bit dry at first, but grew moister as Ed attempted to turn the peck more passionate.
Roy felt hands fumble his chest in a naïve and slightly rough attempt at petting. Roy allowed his own hands to touch Ed's hair, stroke it. They shuffled closer, but then Ed flinched, his mouth pulled away. Ed held his breath for the space of five heartbeats, and Roy rolled away.
What am I doing?
"You know," said Ed, softly. "I envy you."
"How's that?"
"You get along with everyone. People adore and respect you. You are never lonely. But me, I just can't get close to people. I try. I really do. But every time I do, I just put them in danger and mess up their lives. No matter how clever and smart I am, it's just not enough. I make things worse."
"You've never made things worse for me," said Roy honestly. "Not once."
"Yeah, I know. That's why I want you so damn much. You are me-proof."
"Go to sleep," shushed Roy. "You aren't that cursed. Everything turns out well enough in the end - even this latest mishap. We'll put our heads together and figure out what to do about your back tomorrow."
"Yeah. I'll figure something out. I always do."
You aren't the only one with wants. Roy thought, as Ed's breathing turned soft and slow again. I get lonely, too.
The next morning Roy's eyes were greeted by colors. He blinked twice to clear away the film of sleep and found himself staring at the pitched plank ceiling. And rainbows. Dozens of them, small and shimmering, flicking back and forth in shivering arcs.
Wiping his face, Roy raised himself on one elbow and looked around for the source. "Ed?"
"I had a dream last night." Ed was standing near the windows. Morning sun cascaded in shining through the bank of windows, and reflecting off a cascade of nacreous feathers. He shifted, turning, and the wings spreading from his back closed against his flannel pajama bottoms like a cape. "Epiphany really."
Wings. Roy's mouth gaped open, then he shut it and swallowed hard. An angel? Roy turned to look at the bed beside him, to make sure there was no body lying there. Seeing nothing but sleep rumpled sheets he let out his breath.
"I could turn my arm into a weapon," Ed went on. "And that was useful. But I think this is even better."
And Roy understood. "You used your alchemy to change the automail."
Ed grinned. "If I hadn't been so damn sick all week, I'd have thought of it long ago." Ed clapped his hands, and the wings darkened, and shrank, shriveled in and coiled flatly to his back. "I shouldn't have any trouble hiding it under my clothes. And it makes for a great secret asset, don't you think? I'll always have the high ground."
"The wings…" said Roy.
Ed clapped again, and they spread out. "Like them?"
"They are beautiful." Roy swung his feet to the floor and walked, almost reverently, the few feet between them.
He was not a superstitious person. Alchemy and Ishball had burned any youthful faith out of his heart so thoroughly he didn't expect to ever see anything that would make him question his disbelief. But the coincidence was so exquisite. Ed had wandered the boarders between life and death, and he'd returned with wings. Roy could only wonder if it were an omen of hope or horror.
Roy traced a careful finger along a feather and then drew it quickly back to his mouth, tasting the blood from a fresh shallow cut. Though they looked soft, they felt quite, quite sharp. Like a true feather, the metal was spun into thousands of tiny forked bristles, each one finer than a needle, and stiff. Roy had never seen alchemy create anything so nuanced.
Ed didn't notice his injury. "They don't hurt anymore. I figured a way to make the pain go away. I had to straighten the electrical paths, that's all. It all makes perfect sense to me now."
Ed closed in, those wings curling around Roy to either side, as Ed's arms tightened about in him a fervent embrace. Roy held still for fear of being cut, but when the flats brushed against his shoulders, they just felt smooth and light and warm.
"Thanks for believing in me," Ed breathed.
Then he abruptly stepped back and clapped Roy's arm. "I gotta show Al. Then I'm going to find the biggest cliff I can and test these guys out." His grin was huge, and then he just seemed like Ed again. Nothing otherworldly. Just the same enigmatic genius who'd been attracting and frustrating Roy for years.
"Not a cliff!" said Roy alarmed. "A hill - a small one - oh for God's sake, man, just because you have wings doesn't make you invincible. Use some care!"
"Are you worried about me?" asked Ed, genuinely surprised.
"Always. After all this, can you doubt it?" Roy rubbed his eyes with the ball of his thumb. "Ah… just go. Do your thing. Fly."
Ed didn't wait for further permission; he hurried out on his way again, to his next adventure. Roy heard his excited voice in the next room, and Al's cries of surprise and delight.
"Go." Roy said to the empty open door. "I'll be there when your feet hit the ground."
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romantic AU, Hurt/Comfort.
Spoilers: None. Mix of manga and animeverse.
Prompt: Written for Mikkeneko: An Elric with wings, and accompanying backache.
Roy found Al crouched next to the cold fireplace, the cheap quilted muslin of his robe puddling around his knees, loose hair falling forward to obscure his face. With exaggerated care the 16 year old lifted up a sheet of paper from a stack and crumpled it just so, then placed it amid a loose pyramid of other similar balls.
Roy put down the sacks of groceries unceremoniously on the middle of the cabin floor and curled his fingers automatically into a snap. He noticed the dog-eared, ink smudged envelope and the distinctive cream color of the stationary and aborted the movement with the shake of his hand. He sucked in a deep breath.
"Are you sure about this?" Roy asked as horror settled into his middle.
Al barely turned his head Roy's way. "Yes."
"You are throwing away years of research, everything you've studied, priceless theory. It's irreplaceable."
"I hope so" said Al, unusually grave. "If anyone else wants to follow us down this direction, he'll have to start from scratch. Maybe by the time he gets to this stage, he'll realize why he should burn his notes, too."
"There could be some good uses for them - some medical reasons. It could help with Ed. The alchemy is fascinating - astonishing."
"No," said Al firmly, pulling his hair over his shoulder so that he could level the full force of his disapproval at Roy. "There is nothing at all useful about these. Some medicines aren't worth the risk." Al hunched farther over and crumpled several sheets, tossing them into the fireplace. "You have no idea how close the reaction came to getting away from us. No idea. We could have… We thought we had a buffer zone out here in the woods, but it wasn't enough - not even close. We could have destroyed Xenotime and everyone in it. We could have been mass murderers."
Al grabbed the rest of the papers and tossed them on top of the little balls. "We can't trust what others could do with it. My life wasn't worth it. Ed's not worth it." Al folded the sturdy brown envelope in half.
Roy felt a little nauseated at the prospect of losing all the Elric's research, but it wasn't his decision. The Elrics looked to him for many things, as military liaison, intellectual rival, convenient warm body, but they kept their own counsel, and he was never part of that. The coded telegram that brought him to be in this cabin was merely a courtesy. The truth is, they didn't really need him. At least not as much as he wanted them to.
"Would you do the honors?" Al asked after a moment.
Roy snapped his fingers. Fire curled the top page, rolled it over and down the mound of papers and the tidy woodpile until it lodged between the grate and the wall. Roy could just make out Ed's rough penmanship before the page darkened and disintegrated into confetti. A billow of warmth took the sting out of the December air. The fire cracked and spat flat brief-lived embers around the brick firebox. For a moment both of them were mesmerized. The last of the balls of paper caught, opened like a flower before disintegrating.
Al closed the screen and rose up, a bit unsteady on his twig thin legs. With an absent minded tug he lifted the top of his thick socks higher up his shins, then straightened until the bulk of the robe hid all of his emaciated features, except for the spidery hands, and the haggard too-old face. Firelight caught the planes of his cheeks, and Roy saw for the first time in days Al seemed to be content.
"There, that ends it."
"How are you feeling, Al?" asked Roy, concerned.
"Alive." He took a deep breath and beamed.
"And Ed?" Roy asked.
"Better." Al's smile was gone again.
Roy heard a grunt coming from the cabin's single bedroom. He turned his head briefly at the noise, but it didn't seem as pained as it had been before he'd gone out. He turned back and carefully ladled some of the stew into a bowl. He sniffed, savoring the tang of beef, and debated putting a pinch of paprika to spice it up, but then pushed the thought aside. Neither Ed nor Al were up to eating anything too challenging. He could season his own dinner separately.
Balancing the bowl and a cup of tea on the faded flower print tray he'd scrounged in the rented kitchen, Roy walked carefully down the hall. Ed's door was cracked and with a gentle nudge of his shoulder he entered. The light from the bedrooms fireplace cast harsh and shifting shadows in the otherwise dark room. Roy's eyes were first drawn to stuffed animal heads mounted in a shotgun scatter across the far wall. Then he let his eyes drift down to the mound of blankets clustered on one side of the four poster.
Roy put the tray down on the end table and turned to see Ed's eyes glinting at him from the nest of bedding.
"I brought you some food," Roy said.
"Not hungry," Ed growled.
"Have you reconsidered seeing a doctor?"
Ed's eyes closed in a slow blink and for a moment Roy thought he might have drifted off, but then he opened them again. "I'm not suicidal enough for that. I've seen what the military does with … things like me."
"I wasn't suggesting a military doctor."
Ed glowered. "I'll be fine, Mustang. I'm better today than I was yesterday. Heaps better than the day before. I think I'm adjusting to the change."
"Well," said Roy. "Then you should eat."
With a grunt Ed pushed himself up. The feather blankets fell from his shoulder to his waist as he twisted sideways. His naked torso looked thinner than it had before the incident. Roy didn't remember the slight concave pit at the center of Ed's chest, nor the way his rib cage bent in above the smooth hairless stomach. Roy could believe that the journey through the Gate had been more exhausting and challenging this time than it had in the previous trips.
Ed's hair, sweat damp and nearly brown in the poor light, clung to cheeks. As he rocked himself into a sitting position, Ed rubbed the strands away with an irritated flick of his right hand. Then he paused and looked at the hand, turning it over and examining the knobby fingers as if he'd never seen anything like it before.
"Should have taken the automail off first," said Ed with a sigh. "If I'd been really thinking, it would have been obvious." He grabbed the handle of the spoon with exaggerated carefulness brought it up to his lips, blowing carefully over the bowl, before putting it in his mouth.
"I don't think that's obvious at all," said Roy grabbing a straight back chair from the wall and pulling it up. "I wouldn't have thought about it."
"Yeah you would," said Ed with a don't patronize me edge to his voice. "I mean it doesn't take a genius to realize that when you do an alchemic process you need to balance the sides of the equation. That's Alchemy 101. I knew that lesson when I was five." He shrugged his shoulders and straightened his back, wincing as if the movement hurt. "I gave my arm to put Al in the armor. I got the arm back when I took him out of it again.
"I should have known the automail would have to go somewhere. I suppose I'm lucky it didn't end up coming out of my face." Ed hissed and lay down on his side, clutching the thick duvet momentarily. "Mustang… Roy…" this time Ed's voice was less surly.
"Want me to rub it again?"
Ed arched his neck then looked at Roy again and nodded. His skin had an ethereal pallor, but the cheeks had taken on a new warmth. He looked angelic to Roy's romantic eye, something that might be found painted on the walls of a Letoist cathedral. The scientist in Roy knew the doll-like skin, bright eyes, and reddened lips were an artifact of the fever.
"I know this isn't how you expected you'd spend your vacation," Ed murmured somewhat apologetically. "I promise I won't hang off you much longer."
Roy didn't bother to straighten out the 'vacation' misperception. It was just another of the dozens of tiny convenient lies they told each other, dancing around the issue of trust. "I don't mind. It hasn't been boring. Being around you is always intellectually stimulating." I worry about you. I want to protect you. Let me in.
"Intellectually. Is that all?" There was a wistful look in Ed's eye.
"All that I think you are up to." Roy's lips twitched upwards and he shook his head. "And right now barely that."
Ed made a derisive snort. "I'm fine, but if you feel like nursing me, make yourself useful." Ed rolled onto his stomach.
Roy's stomach clenched involuntarily while he sized up the damage to Ed's back. Most of it was flawless - scars that Roy had once or twice in the past explored with playful fingers were missing and in their place skin so soft and fine that it could have belonged to a baby. But there, a hand span above the small of his back curving weirdly up to the middle of each of his shoulder blades, were two odd grotesque growths.
The misshapen and irregular cylinders of dark metal looked to the casual eye as if they were merely resting on Ed's skin. A closer look saw the way the skin of his back turned an angry pink and swelled around steel. As best as Roy was able to tell, the twisted and broken remains of his Ed's automail arm was enmeshed inseparably with the bone of his scapulae. Surgery was problematic. At least the Gate had done Ed the small favor of balancing the load.
Roy turned his attention away from the remnants of Ed's automail, and concentrated on the distressed muscles. Roy's hands moved inwards, gathering up the hot flesh, rolling and kneading it ever-so-gently in his hands, smoothing it down again with fan like motions. He paused to press with the balls of his thumbs into the marble-hard muscles clustered around his twisted shoulder blades. Then Roy smoothed his hands down either side of Ed's spine, feeling the muscles reluctantly release.
He paused, assessing. Ed's skin was still fever warm, but not as intensely hot than it had been the day before. Al was right, Ed was getting better.
"I can be stimulating," Ed replied, picking up the conversation as if there had been no delay. "Keep rubbing my back like that and I may surprise you." Ed flashed a leer. "That is if you aren't turned off by a freak."
Roy chuckled. "You are feeling better. I better not cash that check though."
"Yeah, of course not."
"And you aren't a freak, Ed. I didn't consider you one when were missing your arm, and certainly don't consider you one now you have it back." Roy considered. The growths were really not so large that they couldn't be hidden under loose clothes. Ed's days of wearing tank tops in public were gone, but the teen was used to hiding the more brow-raising parts of his body.
"I've always been a freak," Ed countered, with offhanded resignation. "What kind of preschooler reads his father's alchemy books - a freaky one."
"Well then, if that's the definition we are using, I guess I must like freaks. I enjoy Al's company greatly."
"Touch him and I'll have to kill you," said Ed, only half kidding.
Roy tsked. "I platonically enjoy your brother's company. One Elric chasing after me is more than enough."
"Chase is far too strong a word." Ed snorted softly. "I entice you to occasionally question your sexual orientation. Purely for a mutually beneficial… waste of time…" his voice trailed off. "Oh, yeah…"
Carefully, carefully Roy had leaned in and took one of the metal growths in his hand. He ran the palm of his hand up, over the humps and let his fingers slide into a set of parallel grooves. Unlike Ed's flesh, the surface didn't yield to pressure. They remained in their unique shapes no matter how Roy stroked them. Ed breathed a contented sigh.
"I wish I knew how you were able to feel that," Roy said. "The automail is so mangled and compressed, it can't possibly be sending your nerves any signals."
"Empirical data suggests otherwise," muttered Ed. "I don't know how either. But that feels awesome, keep doing that."
Roy continued. The metal was curiously warm, with just the faintest texture. "You'd be fascinating to study," Roy murmured. Ed's whole body stiffened. Roy didn't bother to suppress the chuckle. "But I'm afraid it will have to wait for some other time."
Ed relaxed again. "Maybe if you give me proper motivation, I'll let you."
Roy's hands moved to give Ed's lower back a cursory rub. The muscles there were not nearly as strained and melted under the rhythmic presses. "Always high maintenance. We can negotiate this price later," replied Roy, deliberately sidestepping the invitation.
Ed sighed, then laughed. Roy went back to work on his shoulders a bit but realized not long after that Ed had fallen asleep again.
Al and Roy sat across the intimate kitchen table and ate their soup. Roy smiled with amusement at the sheer pleasure with which the boy savored every sloppy bite, running a still clumsy finger under the corner of his lip to catch the overflow and sweep it back where it belonged. Al paused his more-or-less monologue mid phrase for several lingering seconds, then resumed exactly where he left off. Roy couldn't help but feel a smattering of pride in his small culinary skills.
Perhaps it was warmth of the fire, which had long since finished work on the Elric's precious notes and now was merrily crackling its way though a log. Perhaps it was Al's light hearted chatter about the myriad personal discoveries he'd made that day, but Roy felt as if deep dread had finally broken.
"So, Al," he said when there was a moment's lull. "Where are you two going now? I don't suppose Ed will stay with the military now that his reason for being in it is gone. And now that you are free of the armor, is there something you'd like to do with your life?" It was something Roy had wondered about on and off ever since he'd gotten the coded telegram hinting at their plans, but he hadn't meant for it to come out so directly.
Al looked vaguely disconcerted.
And Roy inwardly kicked himself. It wasn't even a full four days since Al had gotten his body back. It was utterly unfair to pressure him to present a tidy plan for his future, when Roy himself was struggling with the very same prospect. The Fuhrer, the homunculi, the deep intractable corruption in the military, and endless nonsensical wars. He didn't even know where to start picking apart that Gordian knot. There were days when he wondered if it were hubris to even consider himself up to the task.
He didn't want to lose the Elric's help. He need to construct the right arguments, cunning rationalizations that would somehow keep them with him.
After letting the silence hold for just a moment too long Al finally answered. Roy expected something simple: I don't know, or perhaps I guess I'll see what comes. But like everything about the Elrics, his answer was both profound and obvious.
"We're going to save the country." Then at Roy's expression he laughed. "You didn't think we were going to let you do it all by yourself, did you?"
In the cabin's greatroom Al shook out some thick blankets on the couch and settled himself down for another night. Roy turned off the sconce-less light on in the stubby hall and quietly opened the door to bedroom. The fire there had crackled down to dully glowing embers. Roy felt a ribbon of cooler air waft across his feet, and smelled a strong scent of wet pine. Ed must have opened a window at some point.
Crossing the floor with care, using his memory more than his eyes, he found his way to the offending window, and quietly pulled down the sash. Ed didn't stir until Roy had made his way to the bed, undressed and tried to gently pull some of the covers for himself.
"No kiss?"
Roy chuckled and rolled over, searching clumsily through the blankets for Ed. There was a bit of blind maneuvering, which fetched Roy a mouthful of hair, but then he found Ed's lips. They were a bit dry at first, but grew moister as Ed attempted to turn the peck more passionate.
Roy felt hands fumble his chest in a naïve and slightly rough attempt at petting. Roy allowed his own hands to touch Ed's hair, stroke it. They shuffled closer, but then Ed flinched, his mouth pulled away. Ed held his breath for the space of five heartbeats, and Roy rolled away.
What am I doing?
"You know," said Ed, softly. "I envy you."
"How's that?"
"You get along with everyone. People adore and respect you. You are never lonely. But me, I just can't get close to people. I try. I really do. But every time I do, I just put them in danger and mess up their lives. No matter how clever and smart I am, it's just not enough. I make things worse."
"You've never made things worse for me," said Roy honestly. "Not once."
"Yeah, I know. That's why I want you so damn much. You are me-proof."
"Go to sleep," shushed Roy. "You aren't that cursed. Everything turns out well enough in the end - even this latest mishap. We'll put our heads together and figure out what to do about your back tomorrow."
"Yeah. I'll figure something out. I always do."
You aren't the only one with wants. Roy thought, as Ed's breathing turned soft and slow again. I get lonely, too.
The next morning Roy's eyes were greeted by colors. He blinked twice to clear away the film of sleep and found himself staring at the pitched plank ceiling. And rainbows. Dozens of them, small and shimmering, flicking back and forth in shivering arcs.
Wiping his face, Roy raised himself on one elbow and looked around for the source. "Ed?"
"I had a dream last night." Ed was standing near the windows. Morning sun cascaded in shining through the bank of windows, and reflecting off a cascade of nacreous feathers. He shifted, turning, and the wings spreading from his back closed against his flannel pajama bottoms like a cape. "Epiphany really."
Wings. Roy's mouth gaped open, then he shut it and swallowed hard. An angel? Roy turned to look at the bed beside him, to make sure there was no body lying there. Seeing nothing but sleep rumpled sheets he let out his breath.
"I could turn my arm into a weapon," Ed went on. "And that was useful. But I think this is even better."
And Roy understood. "You used your alchemy to change the automail."
Ed grinned. "If I hadn't been so damn sick all week, I'd have thought of it long ago." Ed clapped his hands, and the wings darkened, and shrank, shriveled in and coiled flatly to his back. "I shouldn't have any trouble hiding it under my clothes. And it makes for a great secret asset, don't you think? I'll always have the high ground."
"The wings…" said Roy.
Ed clapped again, and they spread out. "Like them?"
"They are beautiful." Roy swung his feet to the floor and walked, almost reverently, the few feet between them.
He was not a superstitious person. Alchemy and Ishball had burned any youthful faith out of his heart so thoroughly he didn't expect to ever see anything that would make him question his disbelief. But the coincidence was so exquisite. Ed had wandered the boarders between life and death, and he'd returned with wings. Roy could only wonder if it were an omen of hope or horror.
Roy traced a careful finger along a feather and then drew it quickly back to his mouth, tasting the blood from a fresh shallow cut. Though they looked soft, they felt quite, quite sharp. Like a true feather, the metal was spun into thousands of tiny forked bristles, each one finer than a needle, and stiff. Roy had never seen alchemy create anything so nuanced.
Ed didn't notice his injury. "They don't hurt anymore. I figured a way to make the pain go away. I had to straighten the electrical paths, that's all. It all makes perfect sense to me now."
Ed closed in, those wings curling around Roy to either side, as Ed's arms tightened about in him a fervent embrace. Roy held still for fear of being cut, but when the flats brushed against his shoulders, they just felt smooth and light and warm.
"Thanks for believing in me," Ed breathed.
Then he abruptly stepped back and clapped Roy's arm. "I gotta show Al. Then I'm going to find the biggest cliff I can and test these guys out." His grin was huge, and then he just seemed like Ed again. Nothing otherworldly. Just the same enigmatic genius who'd been attracting and frustrating Roy for years.
"Not a cliff!" said Roy alarmed. "A hill - a small one - oh for God's sake, man, just because you have wings doesn't make you invincible. Use some care!"
"Are you worried about me?" asked Ed, genuinely surprised.
"Always. After all this, can you doubt it?" Roy rubbed his eyes with the ball of his thumb. "Ah… just go. Do your thing. Fly."
Ed didn't wait for further permission; he hurried out on his way again, to his next adventure. Roy heard his excited voice in the next room, and Al's cries of surprise and delight.
"Go." Roy said to the empty open door. "I'll be there when your feet hit the ground."