October 6th, 1953

Warmth enfolded him and Edward felt like he was floating in softness. It was a pleasant, drowsy sensation; a place between waking and sleep where he could happily remain indefinitely. Here was peace, calm, serenity…

…the sensation of something tickling his ear, and coming from somewhere above him the alluring sound of the word breakfast. Coming to full consciousness slowly, Ed opened his eyes and rolled off of his stomach onto his side. Turning his head a little more he blinked up into Winry's smiling face as she leaned over him. A sleepy smile crept to his lips. "Good morning, angel."

Winry chuckled and shook her head in playful mock-annoyance. "Are you getting lazy on me?"

"Could be," Ed shrugged slightly, rolling fully over onto his back. "You were right; it's kind of pleasant. I should try sleeping in more often."

"It's already nine o'clock," Winry smirked.

"So I should try sleeping in some other morning," Ed amended, properly chastised. "Did you say something about breakfast?"

"Yes," Winry rolled her eyes. "It was over an hour ago."

"What?" Ed sat up quickly, unbalancing Winry who was propped over him on her hands. She toppled sideways with a squeal.

"I was kidding!" She sat up, her legs still draped over him. "Now get up. You promised you would teach me how to spar this morning, remember?"

"Yes, I did." Right; Ed remembered as he came fully awake. He and Winry had been exercising together on Saturdays for a while. Until recently, with his restrictions they hadn't done anything more strenuous than walking and basic calisthenics at first, though he had finally been able to move up to jogging and light sparring sessions with Al. It was something he and Winry could do together and finally, a couple of weeks ago, Winry had asked if he would teach her enough so that they could spar together as well. Not that either of them expected her to become a fighter, but because it was good exercise and – at least Ed had always thought – a lot of fun.

Winry righted herself and stood up again, much to Ed's disappointment. "Ethan is just finishing up with breakfast. Come down when you're ready and we'll start afterwards." Then she bent over and kissed him lightly.

Ed grinned as he reached up with his auto-mail arm and pulled her down for a more satisfying kiss. This was what life was about. "He can wait," he mumbled.

"But can you?" Winry teased pulling back after a minute. She poked his stomach which growled almost on cue.

"Traitor." Ed sighed, though he didn't stop smiling. It was amazing the difference four months could make. "All right." He sat up and stretched. "Let me find my clothes and I'll be down."

"Good," Winry stood up again and headed for the door. "Don't be late!"

"Ha-ha, very funny!" Ed called back, chuckling as his back popped. Yeah, that felt better. He crawled out from under the covers and stood, heading for the closet to figure out where he had put his last clean pair of sweat pants.

Four months ago, Ed had been convinced that life would never be what it had been. Well, he had been right in a sense. Life now was very different from the life he had honestly enjoyed even as recently as just over two years ago. It wasn't bad. Most days it was pretty good really, but it was far from what he wanted back.

The highlight of every day –his reason for getting up on the mornings when he felt like he was slipping as well as on wonderful mornings like this one – was Winry. As long as he had her, there was stability in his life he had sorely missed almost as much as the amazing woman who brought it.

How he could have said the things he had to her, or even assumed some of them, he could no longer understand. Doctor Irons – the aptly named psychologist that Alders had sent him to see - had been able to explain how the issues Ed had been dealing with had affected his thoughts and emotions in other ways. Most of them would have never even occurred to Ed!

Things had gotten easier once the withdrawal symptoms finally ended. Without the depressant of alcohol making his feelings of depression and guilt worse, he had found it much easier to think reasonably and act more like himself. He felt more like himself.

From talking with Irons, and with each other, Ed and Winry had made a few changes around the house since she got home. Some of them were superficial, and others were lifestyle changes. The biggest change however, was in making sure they communicated better with each other. It was something they both knew how to do, they just hadn't done it well for a while. They had both changed and that meant reconnecting.

The changes to the house were simple, but they had positive effects. Winry's herb garden also included a few vegetables, which they were now reaping the benefits of on top of Winry being able to grow all of the herbs in the tea that doctor in Resembool had recommended for dealing with her hormonal changes and moods.

There had also been the matter of some redecorating. The master bedroom – once darker colors of grays and burgundy – had been repainted with a light – though not pastel – calming sky blue on the walls, and the comforters and curtains were patch-worked in medium blues and bright golden yellows. It had a rather urbanized country feel to it, and Ed found he liked it. It reminded him of his childhood.

The guest bedroom had also been redone. After months in there, the very look of it gave Ed shivers. Winry had gotten rid of the soothing golds-and-soft-greens that had once seemed restful – if slightly like an upscale hotel – and painted the room and the furniture bright white. The quilt on the bed and other fabric accents were in several colors of green, ranging from dark forest to bright leaf.

The biggest lifestyle change was that Ed and Winry did a lot more things together that they both enjoyed. Winry spent less time in her home workshop and did her best to leave auto-mail work for at work. Ed was still technically on medical leave and the upstairs alchemy lab still remained firmly locked. Ethan had the key, and Ed hadn't gone in there once.

Together, he and Winry had planted her garden. They took walks in the evenings or sat and relaxed and actually caught a radio program together. They went to movies and museums. Sometimes they played cards. Winry was better than Ed had ever realized. A decent amount of the time she actually beat him! Especially when they started learning new games. With Winry trying to balance diet with the unpleasant fluctuations and changes going on inside, and Ed trying to put on weight without eating things that would be bad for him, they also had a lot of fun experimenting with new recipes in the kitchen. They tried cooking some of the different styles of Xing cuisine – the healthier recipes! – and even a couple of recipes from Creta, Drachma, and one or two from Aerugo that Ed had been glad to find did not give him bad associations.

Ed liked cooking. It was about as close to alchemy as he ever got these days. He just wasn't ready to trust himself enough for that yet. Stupid as it might have been to simply stop using all alchemy, that was what had gotten him in trouble so many times, and how he had done most of the things he wasn't proud of. He had lived without alchemy for years and been perfectly happy. Now seemed a good time to step back from that for a bit and reconnect with the Ed that was more than his work.

Ed found other ways to occupy his time. During the day, with Ethan at school and Winry back at Rockbell Auto-Mail now after taking two months off when she had first gotten back – other than emergencies, which Ed understood – Ed had a lot of time to himself. Winry still only worked three-quarter days, but he had hours to kill even after basic household chores were done. Most of those he and Winry did together too.

Ed did his personal light workouts during that time, or took Bounce for walks. He had forgotten that she knew how to fetch, and nearly a dozen other clever tricks. The dog was thrilled to have his attention. He also re-discovered a childhood passion – though he didn't mention it to anyone – that he had forgotten; he loved good mystery and adventure stories. It had been years since he had sat down and just read a good story or comic book for fun, and there were dozens – if not hundreds – of books that had been published since then that he hadn't read. On the days when he felt rested enough not to cat nap in the afternoon, he would pour through the pages of a novel, enjoying the story and often laughing at the improbability of some, and impressed with the realism of others. Of course Alphons Heidrich had once told Ed his own adventures would make great novels…

By the time Ed got downstairs with clothes on, Ethan and Winry were at the table and there were fresh biscuits, eggs, and sliced fruit on the table. "That's a heavenly smell," he commented as he sat down at the table.

"Then maybe you can bless the cook with a little spare cash?" Ethan asked with a hopeful grin.

Ed laughed. "And just what does the cook need cash for that isn't covered by his existing funds?" For the last year or so Ethan's work at the hospital had been officially dubbed an internship and he was getting paid for his few hours a week. The summer especially had been good to Ethan's bank account. Of course, Ethan barely touched any of that. He was less than two years from starting at the University and he was saving money. "Don't tell me you've got a hot date?" Ed teased as he dug into his meal.

His sixteen-year-old son's faced flushed. "No!"

"Just asking," Ed shrugged, backing off. "Sure you can have a few sens." If Ethan didn't want to talk about it, Ed wasn't going to press. His son had never been anything but reliable so there was certainly good cause.

"Thanks, Dad." Ethan finished wolfing down his breakfast and stood up. "I've got to go. Alyse made me promise to help her out with decorating the gym at school. Dumb dance," he rolled his eyes then grabbed another biscuit as he headed for the door. "See you later if I don't drown in crepe paper and balloons."

"What's eating him?" Ed looked at Winry, concerned. Ethan had moved back in with them only a couple of weeks after Winry came home, and things had been calm enough that they had mostly returned to some semblance of normal. The summer had been a good break for Ethan who had started back into school eager to get back to his studies. Doctor Gray reported no lasting damage from last school year's depression on his son's part either. There were still times though when Ed felt like Ethan didn't confide in him the way he used to.

"Oh just the usual joys of teenage life," Winry smiled softly, sipping her morning cup of tea. "It's obvious if you put the information together."

"Then you must have information I don't," Ed sighed and served himself seconds on eggs.

"Only some," Winry chuckled. "Ethan's trying to save up to get Lia a birthday present."

"But isn't her birthday in May?" That seemed a long way off to be saving now. Ed couldn't think of anything that a sixteen year old girl would want that was that expensive. Okay, unless it was Winry shopping in Rush Valley!

"Her last birthday," Winry informed him. "Things were a little dramatic around here, remember? He missed it and he's felt bad about it ever since."

"Surely she doesn't expect him to send her something," Ed scoffed.

"That doesn't stop him from caring," Winry shook her head. "So experienced and still so oblivious." She was referring to him that time obviously.

"Not completely oblivious," Ed shook his head, feeling mildly disgruntled.

Winry eyed him knowingly over her cup. "Then why don't you explain to me why Ethan is helping set up decorations for a homecoming dance that he isn't even planning to attend?"

That brought Ed up short. "What do you mean he's not going?" Their niece had been talking about the dance since summer, constantly bubbling and full of plans. Anytime she needed help with most school events she had Ethan's support and assistance. "Why not?"

"Thank you for making my point," Winry smirked then her expression softened. "I asked him about it, and he said he didn't want to go because he would feel stupid going by himself."

"So why doesn't he just ask—"His brain made the connection before Ed finished the sentence. Of course Ethan wouldn't just ask a random girl; probably not even one who was just a friend. This was a 'bring a date' kind of dance.

Winry nodded. "You see the dilemma."

Ed actually thought it through before answering this time. Ethan was his third child to go through high school as a relatively normal teenager, so it wasn't as if Ed didn't have some knowledge of the subject. The difference between Ethan and his siblings was that, well, Sara had actually dated Mars Leighton for her last three years of high school, and while Aldon and Cassie had started dating their senior year, Aldon had actually asked out girls before that. Ethan still hadn't showed interest in any girl, save the one he still insisted was just his best friend; a girl who lived nowhere close by. "What a muddle," he finally sighed.

"A sixteen year old boy too wrapped up in his work to pay attention to girls, who protests too much if the suggestion is made that he's interested in his best friend."

Ed looked up at her. Behind Winry's eyes was a laughing this-is-so-familiar. "Yeah, I know, I know. He's mine all right." He figured Ethan would be all right eventually. Their family was back together and stabilizing; the boy was eating regularly again and not having trouble concentrating on catching up the ground he had lost last year. Of course, that just meant that Ethan would probably finish most of a year early on his coursework instead of a full year or more.

Ed and Winry did the dishes before going outside into the back yard. It was a beautiful mid-autumn day; cool but the sun's warmth was enough to make it pleasant. Ed was looking forward to doing a little more sparring, even if doing it with Winry was more likely to be more teaching – and hopefully enjoyment – than a real workout, at least for a while.

That was all right though. Patience was the name of the game, and Ed was learning it. If he wanted to really get better to the point where he might be able to return to full duty – combat instruction included – he couldn't afford to rush himself. It wasn't a set-back he might be facing, like with his wounds in Aerugo. Pushing too hard now might have much more permanent consequences.

Ed had also learned to be more patient about other things. It helped that often he was too tired for more, but knowing why Winry was still less often in the mood for sexual relations made it much easier to hold off on pushing her boundaries on the days when she didn't feel particularly touchy. When he was more aware of her boundaries, he had found she was more often playful, and she would flirt and play and she still definitely enjoyed snuggling up together and just holding each other on those occasions.

While the last few years – the most recent excluded – had been much more active and physical, Ed found he didn't mind the change so much now as he had before. And it wasn't like they didn't have sex. They did, just not as often, yet in that way those moments were more intimate and special when they did both happen to be in the mood at the same time. It was satisfying then, and slow. Ed's heart acted up if they got too creative, and the one time that had happened was frightening for them both.

So now Ed approached all of his exertions more cautiously. Perhaps that was a good thing. He was learning that sometimes he just had to slow down and sit still for a while. Being tired enough to need afternoon naps most days certainly emphasized that.

For now though, it was time for fun! "All right, the first thing to work on is how you stand when facing an opponent." Ed happily went into detail as he showed Winry proper form for the basics, and they moved through a couple of simple blocks and counter-strikes. Just enough to get a good pattern drill going.

He ran her through it slowly, then moving until they were up to speed. Winry learned quickly and, as Ed had always suspected, had no problem with strong, solid arm movements! He was glad she wasn't holding a wrench. Improvisational weapons combat was not on the agenda anytime soon.

Then they worked through basic foot movements, and the drill started again, only this time they moved across the yard in one direction, then the other, with one on the attack and the other on the defensive, then switching. When they reached the end of Ed's last defensive run however, instead of switching to the offensive move planned, he ducked in, grabbed Winry, spun, and did a very simple controlled take-down, sending them both tumbling down into the thick grass, and pinning Winry under him, his hands on her arms. "Nice work," he panted lightly.

"You didn't tell me you were going to do that," Winry objected, eyes wide.

Ed chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. "That would have ruined the surprise." He let go of her arms, bracing himself above her with his auto-mail as the real hand ran lightly down her front, then slipped under her shirt, running over her hips and stomach.

Winry giggled and twitched under him. "That tickles."

Ed smirked without moving his lips from hers. "That's the idea."

"You really don't mind, do you?" Winry broke the kiss, eyes a little wide as she looked up at him contemplatively.

Ed didn't ask what she was referring to. "I've told you, my dear," he accented the word deliberately, "that I don't care about a few pounds, I never really did. Do you really think I'm that shallow? I thought you were hot when you were nine months pregnant!" All three times. "After too. You're always beautiful and you look great."

Winry gave him a slightly wicked look. "So you wouldn't care if I weighed three-hundred pounds?

Ed grimaced. He did not need that mental image! "Umm…. Can we not test that theory?"

Winry laughed and reached up with one hand, putting it around the back of his head and pulling him down off balance, kissing him once more. Ed was grateful for the high privacy fence that surrounded them as he found himself in a very pleasant impromptu make-out session in the back yard.

"If this is some new technique, I really hope you never use it on me, Brother," Alphonse commented smugly.

Regretfully, Ed looked up and spotted his brother standing on the deck, grinning. "I expect you'd give up pretty fast if I did," he laughed.

"You've got that right!" Al came down the stairs as Ed crawled off of Winry and offered her a hand. They both got to their feet. Ed brushed a couple of strands of grass out of his hair. He hadn't really trimmed it in the last four months, but it wasn't growing out as fast as he had expected from past experiences so it was still fairly short. "So are you ready for me, or do you need a break first?"

"No, I'm good for a little more," Ed said after a moment's pause. His heart rate was up, but in the right way, and he didn't feel too tired yet.

A little more turned into nearly an hour of light sparring. Well, light compared to what he and Al used to do. It felt good to be active, and while Ed knew in a real fight he would have no chance of beating Al at this point, his brother kept his moves evenly matched so that it was a decent sparring session.

When Ed finally called it done he lay down in the grass again near the stairs to the deck. Al sat down on the stairs and leaned back, resting on his elbows.

"You know, I never thought I'd be this stupid," Ed admitted contemplatively after several moments. He hadn't necessarily meant to bring it up now, but that still seemed to happen most often around Al. "I was so sure when I was a kid that I wasn't going to do all the idiotic things I saw adults doing around me. The problem is it never occurred to me that I'd do them willingly to myself; that I would ever be at a point where I would just…make those choices, knowing the consequences. I always thought it was a matter of will and self-control. But that's never really been my problem. "

Al looked mildly embarrassed. "Honestly, I feel like I should have seen this coming."

"Don't be stupid, Al. Why would you have had any reason to?" Ed glanced up and over without raising his head.

"Because you don't deal well with you own emotions when they overwhelm you and you're stressed…and you really don't deal well with anything that involves hurting or losing Winry. It's a pattern of behavior thing." Ah Al, ever the psycho-analyst.

Ed shrugged. "I still feel like such a loser."

Al shook his head. "You're too hard on yourself Ed."

Too hard? Ed quirked an eyebrow. Was Al kidding? "I almost tore my own family apart, Al. I swore to myself I'd never do what Dad did when he left us without even letting Mom, or you and me, be part of the decision. He did what he thought was best without even consulting the rest of his family. But I looked at all the times I've run off into danger. I didn't just ignore Winry's objections, I never even asked the kids. I never thought I was this selfish."

Al did not answer immediately. His expression grew contemplative. "Not entirely selfish but you can definitely get self-absorbed. There's a difference. You're not trying to ignore other people's feelings, you just get so wrapped up in dealing with your own problems you forget the rest and you stop listening."

That made sense. "I just thought I was better at the listening, at least with a little warning. I mean, when Winry was pregnant I never had a problem being sensitive to her needs cause I had some idea of what to expect. I didn't mind adjusting because I could take into account the mood swings and the difficulties she was going through. But this time she didn't know, and I didn't know…" He let the thought drift off. If he had known, would it have made a difference?

"So how are you and Winry?" Al asked, following the subject shift, the earlier grin returning. "What I walked in on earlier looked promising,"
"Better," Ed smiled. "Now that we know what her problems are – and mine – and can work with them and get that under control, it's easier for both of us. And aside from exercising together, I showed her some of the techniques Izumi had for calming and focusing the mind." They were little meditative tricks, but they definitely seemed to help. "We don't really yell a lot anymore. It's not worth it to get worked up over little things and, really, there's not a whole lot to fight about at that point." He chuckled. "It's nice actually, to have time to spend together that isn't stressed out and taken up with everything else, find new hobbies." Ed was finding free time and explorations into new things surprisingly enjoyable.

"So things are kind of back to normal?"

"I don't really think of trying to put things back anymore," Ed replied with a shrug. "I get stuck in that rut and we know where it gets me; nothing but trouble. It's about moving forward. We're in a good place now. It feels a lot like what we used to have, but it's not entirely the same. Relationships just don't stay the same, and a large part of the problem was that we weren't dealing with the changes. Now we are and things are good again," he smirked.

"So I gathered," Al laughed.

Ed nodded, folding his hands behind the back of his head. "…But I think all this taking it easy is bad for my health."

Al looked at him with unveiled skepticism. "Oh really?"

"Sleeping in, taking it easy, experimental cooking… I'm getting soft!" Ed complained half-jokingly. It was his only outlet for his frustrations at how slowly the healing process seemed to be taking over all. "My eyes are starting to go I think, and my joints are stiffer than ever in the morning till I stretch out. At least you can't see the hair color change as much when it's short." That was a relief. Though he had been glad that it was mostly going a lighter shade of gold where it streaked instead of stark white or a gray. "I'm getting fat too."

That proclamation was met with Al nearly falling off the stairs yowling with laughter.

Ed frowned. "Hey, I mention Winry's weight and I get slapped, you stress out over a few pounds for months…. But I say something and I get laughed at?"

"Sorry, Ed," Al chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. "Turnabout and all that. It's only fair. What did Doc Gray say?"

Ed shrugged, disgruntled. "She told me Stevenson would be proud of me and to enjoy myself."

Al snickered. "Most guys would kill for that diagnosis. Really it's not that bad."

"Says you."

"I mean it's nice to see you actually looking healthy again. It's been a long time."

"A couple of years."

"More than that," Al shook his head, "Ever since the Xing War the most. Starvation's a pretty obvious example though. I worried before then too sometimes."

"You didn't have to do that." Ed didn't like it when conversations got this personal, even if he was the one to start it. He had opened it up for this kind of talk, and really, Al had been very good the last few months about not pushing too hard or asking how he was doing every time they talked.

"I'm your brother," Al pointed out. "Old habits die hard, and you always push yourself too much. You have ever since we were kids. It's no wonder you ate like a starved wolverine and were still so small."

"Hey!"

"Oh give up, Ed. I know you're not really mad." Al grinned insufferably.

"I still don't like being called small," Ed muttered.

"If you ever put on any real weight the jokes would probably stop."
"What do you call this?" Ed looked down the length of his torso, where his t-shirt had – inevitably – ridden up. It never stayed tucked in to anything without a belt. Okay, so perhaps fat was exaggerating the case; the smooth expanse wasn't soft, it just lacked some of the definition he was used to. It still meant his tailored clothes were snug.

"You finally look almost normal," Al replied in counter-argument. "Or at least healthy; more like you did when we were younger: teens, twenties. You don't look half-starved, even if you still act like it."

Ed harrumphed. "That's hardly my fault." After the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had ended and things started getting back to normal, Ed's appetite had come back with a vengeance. It wasn't so much the weight gain he minded – he was supposed to be doing that – but it was a little disturbing to put it all back on in a matter of months given the difficult time he'd had with that in the past.

"Who's assigning blame?" Al shrugged. "I'm afraid I have to side with the doctors and Winry on this one, Ed. I know you haven't enjoyed a lot of the last few months, but it's nice to have you back."

"Thanks, I think, and you're welcome." Ed sighed. No he really hadn't enjoyed therapy sessions, further doctors' visits, and constant monitoring. "Can we change the subject?"

"Sure," Al shrugged. "So, are you ever going to grow your hair out again?"

Well it was a subject change. Ed shrugged, fingering the front of it. "I don't know really. But Winry said she misses it so probably eventually. It's funny, I chopped it off because of what it reminded me of, but I think I'll always feel conflicted about what I did like this too."

"Ed, may I make a suggestion?" Al asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Just wear your damned hair however you like it and stop letting it mean something."

A chuckle escaped Ed's mouth. "You know, Al, that's the best advice I've gotten in months."

"That's kind of scary given you've been getting serious counseling," Al retorted.

"Isn't it?" Ed stretched his left leg, hearing the knee joint pop. "So since turnabout is fair as you said," he grinned over at Al, "how are you doing?"

"With two pretty girls at home spoiling me rotten?" Al grinned.

"Three if you count Gracia," Ed countered. "Yeah, I guess I should be more surprised you fit in uniform."

"I'm covering all your combat classes remember?" Al picked up one of Bounce's chew toys and tossed it at Ed, who deflected it easily with his auto-mail arm. The rubber ball bounced off harmlessly.

"I guess that accounts for it," Ed smirked.

"So did you think about my idea?" Al asked instead of tossing something else at him.

Ed nodded and pulled a drawing out of his pocket. "Actually yeah. I've been considering it for a while, even before you mentioned it. What do you think?"

Al looked down at the sketch. "Wow, that's beautiful. I wouldn't have thought of that, but it's perfect. You didn't draw this did you?" He sounded incredulous even as he asked.

"No! Of course not," Ed shook his head. He knew how lousy an artist he could be. Anything beyond transmutation circles or other alchemy symbols went well beyond his drawing capabilities. "I actually asked Cassie to draw it for me…a while ago. I didn't tell her what I was thinking of it for, but it was just a fanciful idea at the time. Now, I think it's perfect."

Al nodded. "All we have to do is get permission."

"What are you two boys plotting?"

Ed looked up and saw Winry looking over the railing at them. He snatched the paper from Al and stuck it back in his pocket as he stood up. There was no way Ed would ever make a decision that big without talking to his wife first – and actually taking her feelings into account – again! But he didn't want to spoil the surprise completely. "Well, we ah… I had a question actually," Ed found himself stumbling a little over the words.

"Oh?" Winry rested her hands on her hips. "Just what would that be?"

This was it. "I was wondering what you'd say if Al and I said we wanted to get tattoos." Ed braced for the explosion.

Winry stared at him, one eyebrow climbing up towards her hairline. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No he's not, Winry," Al stepped in then, smiling sheepishly. "Nothing big," he added. "It's just something we've talked about doing together."

"Brotherly bonding is weird," Winry sighed. "What were you boys going to do write the names of your wives on yours arms in big tacky hearts?"

Ed snorted. "Oh please, you don't think I'd tattoo your name on my arm?"

Winry's eyes flashed dangerously. "Whose name would you put on your arm?"

"No one's."

"I suppose this was your idea, Edward?" Winry was obviously not convinced.

"Actually, it was Al's," Ed chuckled and shrugged. "It wouldn't be that weird. Izumi had one, don't you remember?"

"Oh yeah," Winry said after a moment of thought, though she did not look any more inclined to agree. "The crest, right here," she tapped her collar bone.

Al nodded. "That's right. It was red."

Winry looked between them both suspiciously. "So what is it?"

"That I didn't want to give away yet. It's a surprise," Ed replied impishly.

"Is it tasteful?"

"I didn't draw it if that's what you're asking."

Winry sighed, crossing her arms in front of her and looking like she wanted to object, but hesitated to shut him down. "This really means a lot to you doesn't it?"

Ed smirked. "Would I let someone near my body and stick me with needles that many times if it wasn't?"

"You have a point," Winry nodded.

"It will just be here," Ed tapped the upper part of his arm, near the shoulder. It was a pretty typical place to get a tattoo, easily covered by even short sleeves, but visible to the person who wore it when uncovered. "About this big," he marked off the spot, maybe three inches across. "It would be completely covered by even a t-shirt sleeve."

"Why not somewhere like your back?" Winry asked curiously.

"What's the point of doing something like that if you can't see it yourself?" Al countered the argument.

Winry looked between both of them again, and it gave Ed a sense of déjà vu. She had given them both that look so many times. "All right."

Well that was easy! "So you're okay with it?" Ed asked hopefully. He wanted to be sure.

"I'll go along with it if Elicia does," Winry specified.

"Then I guess I should ask her," Al laughed. Though from what he had said previously, Ed suspected that Elicia would let Al do almost anything he wanted if it made him happy. Getting matching tattoos with his brother probably didn't fall into the hell no list.

"Soon," Ed agreed. Once it was decided, he was eager to get the needles part of the whole thing over with!

October 10th, 1953

Elicia had minimal objections, and as soon as she agreed the boys set an appointment. Ed barely slept the night before, nervous as he was about the prospect of being stuck thousands of times with needles imbedding ink into his skin. Still, this was something he and Al had both agreed they wanted to do, and something Ed felt like he needed to. He hoped when Winry saw what the image was, she would understand too. The design was detailed enough that it took a couple of hours on each of them despite – or perhaps because of – the skill of the artist. They did Ed first, because he insisted that if he had to watch and wait through Al's he would probably never make it! He sat there, looking away the same way he normally had to when Winry was working on his auto-mail. It was just easier that way. He couldn't stand watching anything pierce his skin.

It hurt. Not that he had expected otherwise, and it was hardly excruciating compared to a lot of the wounds Ed had received, but it still hurt. It bled some too, but that was normal. The artist kept it swabbed clean and disinfected, though that made it sting more. When he was done, Ed was very satisfied with the result.

Then it was Al's turn. Other than a nervous grin at the start and a couple of winces, Al seemed much more relaxed about this too. As he had told Ed that morning, it was something he felt he needed to do as well, and for similar reasons. Once more, in life and in thought, the two brothers were united.

Both of them had the tattoo on the left upper arm, below the shoulder joint on the outer part, a typical spot for tattoos, and the entire design came out to three inches in diameter which, given the musculature of either of them, did not reach the edge of their upper arm muscles. When they were finished, their arms were cleaned again, bandaged, and they were told to leave the bandages on for a week while the skin healed.

Given how sore his upper arm was, Ed was not about to disagree. Though he hoped it wouldn't bug him too badly. That evening was a dinner picnic over at the Bredas' for Niam's sixth birthday and he wasn't about to miss the festivities.

The back yard over at Breda's place that evening was definitely decorated for a kid's party, and there were several of Niam's friends from school and their parents, though a large portion of the people there consisted of the usual military crew and their mostly grown gaggle of children if they were in the area. Given that Sara was still one of Charisa's favorite people, Ed would have been astonished if he hadn't seen his daughter and Franz at the party. All of the Mustangs were there as well, most of the Armstrongs, Falmans, Feurys, and peripheral married-ins where relevant.

"You look disturbingly cheerful," Ed chuckled as he stood next to Roy in line to grab picnic food. The Flame Alchemist was grinning. Usually that meant either something was extremely good, or about to go extremely badly for a subordinate. In this case, Ed guessed the former.

Roy shrugged as he filled his plate. "Take a look at your five o'clock mister observant."

Ed turned. He saw Maes, Elena, Sara, Franz and some of the other twenty-somethings deep in discussion. Maes had his arm around his wife's shoulders and that usually general hovering protectiveness he always had when it came to Elena. They were both smiling, and a moment later Sara squealed in surprise and apparent delight. It didn't take much to figure out the news. "It took them a little longer than most of the bets didn't it, grandpa," he teased, turning back to Roy who was still looking smug.

"The dynasty is assured," Roy chuckled. "I'd wondered why Maes was in an abnormally good mood at work."

"How abnormal?" Ed asked.

"Whistling in the halls, humming while filing," Roy replied. "They just told us last night and already Elena and Riza have an entire décor motif for the nursery designed and I think they've moved on to coordinating furniture."

Ed shook his head, but he couldn't help grinning. "Women; I'll have to make sure to congratulate them later," he nodded back towards Maes and Elena as he grabbed fried chicken, fruit salad, pasta salad, and a little bit of a few other dishes that looked delicious. "How far along?" Looking at Elena – well dressed as always – she didn't look particularly different. Of course, Ed wasn't really one for staring at other people's wives, but he was usually observant.

"Three months," Roy said. "What about yours?"

"Is that meant to be a lousy weight crack, Mustang?" Ed frowned at the non-sequitur.

"Touchy are we?" Roy laughed. "Relax, Ed. I meant Sara and Franz. When are those two finally going to tie the knot?"

Ah, of course. Ed sighed. Yeesh, Al was right. "They haven't set a new date yet," he replied, stepping out of the way for the rest of the line as they got drinks. "The venue Sara wanted is booked until next year, so she says they're still trying to find something they like that isn't unavailable or ridiculously over priced."

"Nice to know some kids still remember that Dad's bank book has limits," Roy commented. "Is that the only thing keeping them?"

Ed shrugged. "I wish I knew. Sara doesn't talk about it much anymore with either of us. Originally she said she wanted to wait till things settled down a bit after what happened." It was still difficult to talk about, even with the people who had been part of it and watched it happen. "I think it shook her more than she wants to admit."

Roy nodded. "Maes said something like that the other day actually. He's asked her about it too of course. Don't worry. I'm sure they'll get to it sooner or later," he grinned then, clapping Ed firmly on the left shoulder with one hand.

Pain radiated down Ed's arm and up into his shoulder and neck as Roy's hand connected perfectly with his freshly tattooed arm. "Gee, thanks," he whimpered through clenched teeth. "Excuse me a moment, please." He turned and walked away, a little stiff-legged as he tried hard not to start bawling from the moment of excruciating agony!

As Roy watched Ed walk away looking like he was going to double over at any moment, Riza came up beside him.

"What was that about?" Roy asked her, feeling bemused.

Riza shook her head. "A fresh tattoo is very tender."

"How would you kn—" Roy did not finish the sentence as he turned and saw his wife's face. "Nevermind. Wait, Ed has a –"

"Will you learn to keep your mouth shut?" Riza silenced him with a look. Roy closed his mouth. "Winry mentioned yesterday that the boys were getting them," she said softly then by way of explanation.

Boys. "Edward and Alphonse?" Roy looked around, spotting Al standing with Alex and Vato apparently deep in conversation. "No one mentioned anything to me."

"They weren't exactly advertising," Riza sighed. "Leave it alone, all right."

Roy sighed and took a bite out of his chicken. "Yes dear."

Not that half the party or more didn't know by the end that Ed and Al had gotten tattoos. Sara had noticed her father's reaction to Roy's slap on the arm, and had gotten the information from Winry. Nothing remained a secret in a circle of friends for long. The big question became what in Amestris would the Elric brothers have gotten tattooed on their arms?

"So what do you think it is?" Franz asked Sara, his arm slipping around her shoulders.

Sara shook her head and shrugged. "Knowing Dad and Uncle Al probably something small and tame, like the crest." She watched Maes and Elena walk off, with a slightly wistful feeling.

"What's wrong?" Franz was watching her, she realized. "Jealous?"

"What? No," Sara shook her head, smiling. "Not really. I'm thrilled for them. Elena looks great, and I don't think I've seen Maes that enthralled with anything ever, well, other than Elena!" Her friend was absolutely captivated with the idea of fatherhood.

Franz chuckled, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "Well I am," he admitted softly. "Just a little."

Sara looked up into his brown eyes. "You are?" They both had careers. He had agreed with her that children were a later thing. Besides, they had to get married first.

"Yeah," Franz looked serious. Not that that in itself was unusual. He was often serious, but there was that momentary bit of confusion he sometimes got behind his eyes when he looked at her. Sara knew that while he supported her and loved her, he was confused by her putting off the wedding when her parents were obviously doing better.

Sara looked away again. "Oh." She really wasn't sure what to say.

"I don't want to push," Franz sighed, turning her so they were face to face again anyway, his hands resting lightly on her arms. "But I really don't understand why you keep putting it off now. You were so excited before and your folks are fine."

"I… I guess I'm just afraid of something else coming up," Sara shrugged. "Can we please not talk about this here?" She spoke softly, so her voice wouldn't carry over the happily chattering crowd around them.

"Sara, nothing is going to happen," Franz replied, a rare flash of irritation in his eyes. "And worrying about it is only going to blow the remotest possibility of it out of proportion." He put his arms down. "You're right, not here. I'm sorry." Sara felt stung by the dejected look on his face as he turned away. "We can talk some other time… as usual."

Damn it, Elric. Sara bit her lip and resisted the urge to make a scene by charging through the crowd after him. She hadn't meant to hurt Franz. How could she explain how terrified she was though that she might unwittingly do to him one day what her father had done unintentionally to her mother? Yes, her parents were on the mend and all right, but it just felt all too likely, too raw still.

She wanted time for the anxiety to fade, and it just… hadn't yet.

October 17th, 1953

Winry very gently unwound the bandages from Edward's arm. It had been a very long week, and neither Ed nor Al had been willing to let her see even so much as the drawing of what they had gotten permanently marked on their bodies. She could only hope it was something she could live with, and that their mother would not have thrown a fit over! "Almost done. There we go."

As the bandages fell away, Winry gasped. The crest of Flamel she had expected – in this case black, edged in red – but what she had not was the almost lifelike wreath of flowers that encircled it – white, pointed five-petaled myrtle flowers tipped in blood red, nestled in the deep green leaves of the wreath. The entire thing was shaded so delicately that it almost looked like a photograph. "Ed it's…. beautiful." She didn't touch his shoulder, which was still a little tender, but she traced it with her eyes. "It reminds me of your Mom. These flowers grew in her garden didn't they?"

Looking sideways at her, Ed smiled. "They did."

Still staring at the colored ink on her husband's arm, Winry knew she could live with it. It really was beautiful and smaller than she had really expected it to look. Only the very tips of leaves or a couple of the flowers actually reached the outside of the three inch diameter circle Ed had described. "So what does it represent?" she asked. Knowing Ed and Al it had to mean something.

"Well we couldn't just tattoo Mom on our arms could we?" Ed joked at first. "It would have been pretty lame."

"Edward." She quirked an eyebrow at him, but she wasn't even successful at faking irritation when she was amused.

Ed winked at her then his expression softened a little. "It's a constant reminder; of where I came from before, of what alchemy is for, what Al and I have been fighting for, and of who I am. It reminds me of the lessons I've learned, and in some cases re-learned," he added with a self-depreciating smile. "And about how much family means to me. It's a symbol of family more than anything, of life, and why we do what we do." He shrugged. "Al said it felt a little like penance too; an experience and a mark that will remind us what we've done that we shouldn't do again, as well as what we did right."

"That's why you wanted to be able to see it," Winry realized.

Ed nodded. "It's not about artwork, though Cassie did a beautiful job with the design." Ah, so it was Cassie's work. No wonder it looked familiar. His eyes turned sad for a moment. "During war, we fight like dogs and hope for peace with all our hearts, but peace time is when people sit around feeling dissatisfied and wishing for something to do. Ironic isn't it, that we create our own cycles of destruction? And war rarely changes anything even when we think it will, depending on how you look at it. It's easy to forget why you're fighting and just fight to get it finished. So in a way, this honors motives as well, and the people who died doing what they thought was right. It reminds us that we need to keep to that at all costs or suffer losses. Does that make sense?" he looked at her again, and she knew he meant personal loss, not just life. He included his own recent fall, and the pain they had endured in almost losing each other.

Winry nodded. It had gone a little a field, but she thought she followed. "So it's to make sure you don't ever forget what you did either." Whether it was out of guilt or – as Al had said a form of penance for their sins – it would never allow them to forget the good or the bad. She definitely approved.

Ed nodded and reached out, clasping her hands in his left. The smile returned. "It's just what myrtles stand for, Winry. It's for remembrance."