Chapter Text
“You're good with her,” Gracia says after Elysia has left her perch on his lap and run off again.
I shouldn't have to be, Roy thinks. If only Maes still lived, he wouldn't feel the need to try and fill the hole in this little girl's life, wouldn't try to be the father figure to someone who would never be his kid.
But Maes is dead, Gracia is a widow and Elysia half-orphaned.
Roy doesn't say any of that. Instead, he just returns Gracia's warm smile.
“It's not difficult,” he waves off her praise. “She's a sweet kid. Nothing like those little terrors some of the higher-ups decide to drag along to official banquets and what-not.”
“Still,” Gracia replies, her soft eyes crinkling. “She likes you.”
Of course she does. Roy brings her presents and asks about her day and admires the pictures she drew. All the things Maes would have been doing, but in a faint and feeble way.
His best friend and his family had deserved so much more, yet there was only so much Roy could do to make up for that.
“It's getting late,” he observes with a look towards the clock on the mantelpiece. “I should leave.”
“I'll wrap you up some of the pie,” Gracia says and goes to fetch a plate.
When they are standing in the hallway, Roy's left hand is precariously balancing the pie while the right ruffles Elysia's sandy blonde hair, Gracia watching with quiet amusement.
“When will you be back, uncle Roy?” the girl asks, small hands holding on to his coat pocket. She's getting bigger every day. A little while, ago she had barely even reached his knee.
“As soon as possible,” he promises, as he does every time. His visits aren't exactly regular, but still something of a routine. He generally doesn't have much spare time beside his job, but he does make time for this . It's the least he can do.
In that moment, a small shadow appears behind the milky glass of the front door, darkening the hallway. A heavy, somewhat aborted knock falls against the wood.
Roy startles a little, immediately on alert, but Gracia just calmly goes to open the door. Roy follows her closely, just in case it's someone dangerous. And if it's not, well, he was about to leave anyway.
Yet the sight that greets them is unexpected in every way, and Roy has to blink a little to make sense of it. It doesn't work.
Because Edward Elric is standing on the doorstep, looking windswept and utterly bereft, but holding a tiny baby in his arms.
“It went wrong,” he chokes out, his voice tight with barely suppressed sobs, and his eyes have an unusually bright shine to them. “It went wrong, I messed up, I didn't know where else to go, please, I messed up-”
“Oh, Edward,” Gracia just says and gently pulls him into her home.
Edward won't let go of the baby, even as he has finally settled down on the couch in the living room. He looks like he wants to clutch it tightly to his chest, but refrains, not daring to hurt it. The infant sleeps on, peaceful and oblivious to the tremors that are raking through Ed's entire body.
Gracia has sent Elysia to play in her room, and set a cup of tea in front of Ed. It's merely a gesture of kindness, of normalcy. The boy is in no condition to even hold the porcelain.
Roy has sat down in one of the armchairs, arms crossed in front of his chest in an attempt to keep his composure. He is trying not to jump to conclusions, but the dread is creeping up his spine like a silent enemy.
For a few moments there is just this near quiet, disturbed only by Edward's irregular breathing. And Roy wants to say something, wants to ask questions, wants to take control of the situation. But Edward specifically came to see not him, but Gracia, and she is patiently waiting for Ed to gather himself and sort out his thoughts.
“I thought the array was perfect,” Ed finally manages to say through clenched teeth, clenched eyes. “But I thought that last time, too, didn't I? I messed up an' something went wrong.”
Of course, Roy thinks and closes his eyes for a brief moment. Par for the course when it comes to human transmutation.
“It returned Al's body,” Ed continues and ducks his head a little closer to the baby. “But it took his years, his memories, his life.”
A hitched breath, almost a sob, then plowing onwards, “Equivalent exchange, my ass !”
So the polite, mild-mannered boy that Roy had only ever known as a hulking yet strangely gentle suit of hollow armor had not been returned in his rightful fifteen-year-old body, not even his former self as he must have been during that first failed attempt at human transmutation, but as an infant so small it looked like a newborn.
When Ed finally opens his eyes again, he doesn't look at Roy or at Gracia or even at the shrunken form of his brother in his arms. He just stares at the wall ahead of him, blank and helpless, and whispers, “What am I gonna do?”
Roy drags Elysia's old crib from the attic while Gracia ducks out to borrow some baby formula from a neighbor.
When he returns to the living-room, Ed is still numbly sitting in front of the carton box that Gracia has already dug out of some wardrobe. It's full of baby clothes, all too tiny to possibly could have belonged to Elysia at some point. Too tiny to fit a boy who had been two meters tall and made of metal just a few hours ago.
Alphonse is still only wrapped in Ed's black jacket, which he doesn't seem to mind, but he really should be dressed in something proper.
Heavily, Roy sits down next to Ed and doesn't do anything for a while. Then he starts digging through the box, looking for something of the appropriate size.
He understands Ed's reluctance. Looking at all the tiny dresses and the onesies covered in cartoon duckies makes the situation even more bizarre and brutally real at the same time.
“Here,” Roy says and pulls out pale blue onesie with the face of a white cat stitched onto the chest. He vaguely remembers Elysia wearing it, just days after she had been born. He also remembers Al fawning over her, fawning over small cute things in general.
Ed makes no move to take the offered piece of clothing.
“Fullmetal-” Roy begins and then stops himself. He shouldn't be Ed's commanding officer in this situation.
“Edward,” he tries again, rather unsettled by seeing the boy in such a catatonic state. “Come now, we should dress him.”
But Ed just shakes his head slowly.
“Doesn't make sense,” he says. “Not before he's wearing nappies.”
And then he gives a slightly strangled, hysterical laugh, because of course this is not a scenario he ever had envisioned when promising to take care of his brother.
The sound must have roused Al from his sleep because he gives a small huff and then stretches out his limbs a little, wriggling in Ed's arms. The dark fabric of the jacket falls away, exposing more than just the child's face.
Alphonse Elric, healthy and human, with pink skin and soft flesh, just as Ed had always hoped. Just not quite in this way.
Was this permanent, Roy wondered. It had to be. The suit of armor had been. Ed's limbs were still missing, too.
“I asked it to take anything,” Ed whispers and Roy doesn't think he's really being spoken to. He doesn't even know what it is.
“ Anything ,” Ed repeats vehemently. “My alchemy, my body, my soul, my life. I would've- But it didn't listen. Heck, maybe it just wants my suffering, my guilt. And it took Al, why does it always take Al, this is my fault, he doesn't deserve-”
“Shh,” Roy hushes and carefully places a hand on Ed's shoulder; he's never been particularly good at dealing with crying people. Though Ed is not quite crying, never really is, just keeps everything on the inside, until it poisons him, eats away at his innards like a deadly virus.
“It'll be alright,” he adds, fully aware that it must be a complete and utter lie.
“You could sleep on the couch,” Gracia offers after she has returned from tucking Elysia in, and her voice is soft in the half-dark of the house.
Roy turns his head from where he is standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom. Edward is curled up on the bed that seems much too big around him, fast asleep after a day of mental, emotional and physical exhaustion. Roy cannot even imagine how draining human transmutation must be, but for Ed the outcome must have had an even greater impact.
The crib is standing at the foot of the bed, close enough for Ed to reach. He'd barely let his little brother out of his sight when he'd been a near indestructible suit of armor. Now that Al is a defenseless baby, Ed's protectiveness knows no boundaries.
“I shouldn't impose-” Roy objects to Gracia's question out of token courtesy, but she just cuts him off with a shake of her head.
“Non-sense,” she replies. “It's obvious you don't want to leave them alone. And frankly, I'll feel a little better with you around as well.”
Because of course Gracia still has Elysia to take care of, still has her part-time job to consider. And if Roy went home now his worries would just keep him awake all night anyway. He might as well stay. In the morning, everything will hopefully be a little easier to understand.
“Thank you,” he tells her and she smiles before going to get some blankets and set up the couch for her guest.
Roy stays behind, his gaze dragged back into the room, and wondering how such small creatures can cause such enormous trouble.
He wakes up to the sound of a near crash, glass rolling over the tiles, followed by a muffled curse.
Roy's eyes fly open, awake at once. For a split second he is confused about his whereabouts, but then everything returns to him in a flash. He sits up on the thankfully comfortable couch and sees a sliver of yellow light streaming from behind the nearly closed kitchen door and into the hallway.
Edward is standing in the kitchen, awkwardly holding Al to his shoulder with his left arm while trying to stir whatever is brewing in the pot on the stove with the right. It looks like a rather complicated endeavor because Ed is barely tall enough to comfortably reach the counter as it is, but juggling a baby and hot liquid really doesn't seem like the best idea.
“Fuck, fuck, dammit,” he is muttering quietly, clearly overwhelmed.
“Fullmetal,” Roy says, keeping his voice low as not to startle him. “Let me help.”
Ed glances at him over his shoulder, over Al's downy head, and his eyes have a slightly crazed edge to them, like a cornered animal.
So Roy fully steps into the kitchen and gently pushes him away from the stove, taking the wooden spoon he's been using to stir the baby formula.
“He woke up,” Ed explains in a quiet rush, once he's got both arms securely around Alphonse. “He woke up an' he was crying, an' I didn't wanna wake Gracia or Elysia, I've already caused too much trouble, I always- but he was crying an' I didn't know what to do, I don't-”
“It's alright, Edward,” Roy interrupts him, making sure not to sound brusque in any way. “Just go back to your room and I'll bring the bottle up once it's done. Alright?”
Edward looks like he is about to protest, he always wants to protest after all, no matter what Roy says. But then he stills, closes his mouth again and gives a mute nod. Half a minute later he is already treading up the stairs, oh so mindful of his automail leg.
Roy prepares the bottle, glad he had paid close attention to Gracia's instructions the night before. When it's done he makes sure he hasn't left too much of a mess in the kitchen and then follows Ed up to his room.
Ed only has the bedside lamp on, sitting on the edge of the bed. His legs barely even reach the floor, but he's cradling his brother to his chest with more care than Roy has seen some parents handle their children.
“We'll have to wait for it to cool down some more,” Roy says as he sits down next to Ed.
The boy just gives him a wide-eyed stare, no comprehension.
“He was crying,” he repeats his litany from before. “He was crying, I didn't know what to do, I don't know anything about kids, it wasn't his nappies, I checked, but he was crying-”
“He's not crying anymore,” Roy points out calmly. In fact, Al seems to be drowsing against Ed's shoulder.
Ed stares as though he is only realizing so now.
“He was crying,” he says again. “He really was, he-”
“Perhaps he just wanted to be held,” Roy ventures. “Perhaps you calmed him down just like that.”
Gracia had confirmed Roy's suspicion that Al was not simply a baby, but that he looked like a newborn, a couple of days old at best.
Maybe there's still more to it, Roy tries to convince himself. Maybe Alphonse will age more quickly like this, and in a few days or weeks he'll be fifteen, as he is meant to be. Or maybe Edward will find a philosopher's stone after all. Maybe-
Roy reins himself in short. This is not the time for flights of fancy. They need to approach this situation rationally, counting in all factors. Edward needs support now, not what-ifs.
The bottle has cooled down enough and Roy squeezes a few drops of milk out of the sucker, just as Gracia had showed them, before silently handing it to Edward who nudges the rubber against Al's red mouth. Al wriggles away at first, but when he tastes the milk he begins sucking, not eagerly, not like he had woken from hunger in the first place, but as though this were an unexpected midnight snack.
Ed seems to have calmed down a little, simply holding the small child in his arms, watching as it drinks, and Roy is aware that his next question will probably throw him into another anxiety attack.
“I don't want you to feel pressured and it's alright if you haven't thought about it yet,” he says slowly. “But what are you planning to do now?”
Edward sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn't hyperventilate, as though he had already expected that question. Still, there is a long moment of silence before he manages to reply.
“He made me promise,” he whispers and little Alphonse stirs a bit as if knowing that they are talking about him. “When we... before we activated the array. He made me promise that if something went wrong again this time, I wouldn't try to fix it.”
Roy swallows. He has been a soldier for many years, has fought many battles. But he's never met anyone, let alone two young boys, who were both so fearless in the face of death. Not accepting, no, never that, especially Ed was defiant enough to have clawed his way from the edge time and time again. But the brothers' willingness to give up themselves for each other was certainly something to marvel at.
It had worried Roy, many times. The fact that two orphan boys would try to bring their mother back was understandable, even in opposition the law. But the lengths they were willing to go to protect one another, even after that horrible experience, was honestly a little terrifying.
They only had each other left, of course, but considering that they were only one year apart, Edward had almost acted too much of a parent toward Alphonse, as far as Roy could judge. So it was a weird twist of fate that they would end up in this situation.
But that just raised even more questions. Roy had only ever known Edward with the aim of returning his brother to normal. If it weren't for the promise he had made Alphonse, that would still be the constant he'd cling on to. But Al as an armor had been one thing. Al as a baby is quite another. Babies have needs, they deserve safety and steadiness. They deserve a home.
“Are you... planning on going back to Riesembol?” Roy asks carefully, closely watching Ed's reaction.
“I... I thought about it,” the boy admits, licking his lips nervously, “But I can't do that, there's nothing- Winry's always working in Rush Valley now and granny Pinako is getting old. Don't tell her I said that, but it's true. She already had to raise the three of us once, all on her own. I can't ask her to raise Al for a second time, I can't.”
The familiar flood wave of guilt surges up in Roy. After all, he had been the reason why Pinako Rockbell had had to single-handedly raise her granddaughter, as well as the one to make the boys join the military, exposing them to many dangerous situations.
And more than that, soon enough Al would probably grow up to look exactly like the boy he had been back then. And then their neighbors would start asking questions.
“What about your mentor?” Roy ventures and regrets it immediately when he sees Ed flinch.
“No,” he says and quickly shakes his head. “She still hasn't forgiven me for trying human transmutation in the first place. That I failed the second time as well... I can't dump that on her. She's really sick and I already got her involved in too much trouble.”
His lips purse before he adds, “And... and she gets weird around kids. Seeing Al like this, after all she... that wouldn't be fair. That... I think it'd destroy her.”
There is a story there, but Roy knows that it's not his place to ask.
The bottle is still half-full but Alphonse seems to have had enough, turning his head away. A bit of milk spills from his mouth and Edward dabs it away with the corner of the blanket the child is wrapped in.
With an aborted gesture, Roy reminds Edward to let the kid burp to avoid hiccups. Edward does, carefully and a little awkwardly.
In the meanwhile, Roy wrecks his head.
If Maes were still alive the solution would be obvious enough. Maes and Gracia would happily offer their home to the two boys, no matter the circumstances. But Maes is no longer there and Gracia has her hands full with Elysia.
Roy thinks of other families who might be willing, but that only brings up memories of the Tuckers. And the only people he trusts are his men who are all bachelors and live in the dorms. Riza might take pity, but Roy already asks too much of her on a daily basis.
The Armstrongs maybe, he muses. They have a big estate and Alex is certainly enamored with the Elrics. The thought almost makes Roy laugh out loud. He's seen Edward react to Alex's questionable gestures of affections.
“I think I'll stay in Central,” Edward murmurs to himself, unconsciously turning to hide his face against Al who's propped up over his shoulder now. “I got a lot of money saved up. We could get our own place and I could... I could start working at a lab, once... once Al's...”
Once Al's old enough, he probably means to say but cannot bring himself to do so.
Suddenly, Roy finds himself confronted with the mental image of Edward moving into a dingy apartment in Central, trying to raise a baby, sixteen years old and all on his own. Most landlords wouldn't even accept a tenant like that, financial security or not. The only place he would be able to find would be in the more unpleasant districts of the city. As for a job, the same problems still existed. Ed was a genius and would have his recommendations as a State Alchemist, but experiments and the like were often either dangerous or time-sensitive, both of which were not exactly welcome when there was an infant at hand.
Not to mention that, in Central, Ed would be isolated from his support group. There were few people he trusted and fewer still he counted among his friends, but even if he never relied on the adults around him, it was still important to be there for him.
“Non-sense,” Roy hears himself say and is amazed at how self-assured his voice sounds. He doesn't quite know whether he made up his mind just now or whether the decision had already been settled on the moment he saw Fullmetal standing on Gracia's doorstep just a few hours ago.
“I have a spare room,” he tells Edward, focusing on the practicalities of the thing. “You'll be staying with me, of course.”