Ed sighed in content and leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed. He was currently in the Rockbell household, stuffed with stew and bread. He listened to the soft chatter of Winry, Alphonse, and Pinako, pleased at the strangely peaceful atmosphere. Since his arm was attached just before dinner, (and it hurt like a bitch, but luckily, Pinako's cooking made up for that) he was still wearing his scrubs. He opened his eyes ever so slightly, and as soon as he did, he caught sight of something dreadful. The one thing that Edward would never digest.

Milk. It was just sitting there, untouched. He mentally gagged at the sight of it. He never understood how people could drink something that came from a cow's...udder. It just felt so- so unnatural and gross. He shuddered and hoped that Winry wouldn't try to force him to drink the horrid liquid. Unfortunately for him, Winry noticed this. She squinted at him.

"Ed..." She said. "If you don't want to stay a pipsqueak forever, drink your milk." He growled at the word 'pipsqueak'.

"No!" He snapped. "I'm never gonna drink that...that...liquid." He said. Winry growled and slammed her hands down on the table.

"Edward Elric, if you know what's good for you, drink the milk!" She yelled. Ed growled and shot her a withering glare. Pinako sighed and got up, picking up the plates and pot.

"I'll go do the dishes before things get thrown across the room," She said. She shuffled towards the kitchen and shot a glance at Ed and smirked. "Drink your milk, shorty. Or else Winry'll give you a nice, big bump on that big head of yours."

"Never! I'd rather get beat up by her wrench than drink milk!" He barked back. She narrowed her eyes and reached back, her hand curling around the wrench resting in her back pocket. She always kept wrenches or screwdrivers on her, for both situations like these and self defense. Ed flinched when he saw the movement, and Winry could barely hide her smug smirk at this.

"Will you drink your milk, shorty?"

"Who're you calling so short that a ant can tower over him, you uncute gearhead!" He exploded. Of course, the last part was mostly a lie. Ed did- as ashamed and embarrassed he was- think that Winry could be cute (of course, when she wasn't a raging, beautiful, grease monkey) at times.

"I don't care if I'm cute or not, at least I'm not a midget!"

"I- am- not- short!" He yelled back. "At least I'm not a grease monkey!"

"Alchemy freak!"

"Gearhead!"

"Horrible taste in style!"

"Hey! My clothes and style are badass!" He argued. She snorted.

"Ha! It's so gaudy!" She laughed. "Maybe if you drink your milk for once, not only will you grow taller, but perhaps you can get better taste in clothes, too! Besides, milk is good for the body!" She snapped. Ed rolled his eyes, and Alphonse, who was sitting quietly against the wall, watching the two fight with great amusement, spoke up.

"Winry's right about both things, Brother," He said, giggling. "Your style is very gaudy. And milk is good for the body. It'll help you grow and make you stronger!" Ed grumbled a bit and looked back at Alphonse, about to protest, but froze.

He was sitting Indian style, like how he was when he had found his body at the Gate in Gluttony's stomach. And that's when the realization sunk in. He wasn't just eating and sleeping for himself- he was eating and sleeping for Al, too. Whatever he ate sustained Al as well. He realized how selfish he'd been- refusing to drink milk simply because it came out of a cow and tasted gross, but, when really, Al needed it to get the nutrients he needed, as if he wasn't malnourished enough.

It was like that for a few seconds, Ed staring at all with wide, guilty eyes, and Al staring back, slightly confused. However, Winry seemed not to notice this. "Ah, shaddup and drink your milk already, shorty! It'll help you-" Ed turned back to the table determinedly, and, before he could change his mind, he grabbed the bottle of milk and chugged the whole thing down, a stunned silence following afterward.

"-...Grow?" Winry finished, staring with her mouth opened. Ed didn't reply. Instead, with the milk bottle still in hand, he got up and swiftly walked out the front door, not daring to look at anyone. He closed the door quietly behind him and walked around the house until he was at the back. The cool breeze pushed a few strands of his bangs out of his hair.

He sighed and stared at the empty milk glass in his hand. "I can't believe I finally..." He shuddered violently. "...I can't believe I finally drank you, you bastard." He was honestly surprised that he didn't spit the disgusting white liquid out as soon as it hit his tongue. He gazed at the bottle, recalling how thin and weak Alphonse had looked. It honestly broke his heart, knowing that he was like that all because of his hubris. All because he thought he could do the impossible. Especially since that thing wasn't even his mother. Al had sacrificed his body for a failed transmutation around someone they didn't even know. He sighed.

"Y'know, maybe if I keep drinking you, I'll maybe- just maybe- at least grow taller than Winry," He said. He stared down at the bottle, and his grip tightened. He smiled sadly down at the bottle, still a little miffed that he actually drank it. Little did he know that Winry was just around the corner, listening to him.

"As nice it'd be," He sighed. "That's not what I want. Don't make me taller," He said, opening his eyes, the same fire-like determination in them like when Mustang offered him to become a State Alchemist.

"Make him stronger."