Disclaimer: I didn't own . . . erm, I mean don't own FMA XD (And still don't now, despite what my typo wants you all to believe.)

Notes: I'm sorry, Al. I really, really am. I just . . . just couldn't help it. Please forgive me!! The ending sounds a bit rushed, but I couldn't think of any other way to wrap it up.

"What's Happening To Me?" by Dailenna

Al had been glad to get his body back. Really, he had. He had spent quite a lot of time stumbling over his words, because he wasn't used to making the mouth shapes anymore, but even that task was wonderful, comforting and exciting. He had re-used muscles that had worn away to almost nothing, and had spent months building them up. He had breathed in the sharp scent of a cool night, and ate just as much as Edward, enjoying the flavours on his tongue. Even his first few encounters with pain were met with only brief surprise, and then a grin.

"Ed!" he had yelled excitedly from where he sat on the ground. "I twisted my ankle!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ed said good-naturedly. "Be careful with that – I only just brought it back for you, and I don't want you getting your body all knocked up already."

Al loved having his body back. But . . .

Yes, as with all good things, there was always a 'but' attached to it.

The problem was that when Al had last been in possession of his body, he had been a young boy. He'd had his scrapes and tussles, and had had the full enjoyment of life. Having his soul put into a vessel that didn't physically change while his body was aging in that little place behind the Doors was not one of the easiest things for him to take in. He had almost expected that when he got his body back he'd have it just the way he left it, not as the emaciated, uncared for shell it had become.

Al's body had been in such a condition upon its return to its owner that he and Ed had had to spend months in seclusion, re-training his muscles. In their excitement, they had not even remembered to send information to their friends and pseudo-family about where they would be, or even that Al had been returned safely and completely into his own body. It was the week before they returned that Ed, with a sarcastic 'whoops', decided to send word to everyone that they'd be in Central in five days. That way when he and Al reappeared, Al's form wouldn't overwhelm the others too much.

The halls of Central Headquarters weren't completely empty of people who recognised Edward Elric upon his return to HQ. The slightly underfed boy beside him wasn't so familiar, but that was to be expected, because he didn't look remotely like the suit of armour he used to occupy. The thought flickered through Ed's head that he should have had Al dress up in the armour and surprise everyone by popping out (at which point Ed would say "Al! Have you always been in there? Why, oh, why didn't I think to look before!?" just to see the stupid expression on Mustang's face), but he didn't want to subject his brother to having to go back into his previous casing. Al was enjoying feeling the real world all too much.

After being redirected in Mustang's direction ("Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a bastard, I just thought Roy Mustang would be here." "You'll find him in the Fuhrer's office, Major Elric." "The Fuhrer's . . ? But isn't the Fuhrer dea–" "In the Fuhrer's office, Major Elric." "Ah, sorry again, sir . . .") the Elric boys found that they weren't the only ones who had made progress in the time of their absence.

Ed gave the secretary out the front a wave, and Al ducked his head in apology as his brother ignored the protests she made at him from her seat, and burst right into the office.

"I thought the Fuhrer isn't supposed to have other officers set up in his office," Ed said cheekily, pointing at the four extra desks in the room. His face fell momentarily when he realised that by his estimates there should have been one more.

"Fullmetal-!" Mustang said brightly, noticing the boys.

"Wait," Ed cut him off impatiently. "Why are there only four extra desks?" He scanned the room. Hawkeye sat at one desk, Breda at another, Havoc was standing at a filing cabinet, and both Mustang's, Havoc's and the other desk were empty.

The look of confusion on Mustang's face was replaced with one of relief. "Lieutenant-Colonel Feury has his own unit. Those you see here, and Colonel Falman, are a part of my advisory committee."

Both Ed and Al let out sighs of relief, glad to know it hadn't been another case like that of Maes Hughes.

"Now that that's sorted out," Ed said, "ta-daa!" He flung his arms dramatically in Al's direction, and Al had to step back to keep from being hit in the face.

"Careful, brother!"

Havoc grinned. "I figured it was you, Al, but . . . it just doesn't seem real, you know?"

Al grinned in return. "It sure feels real from here, Mr. Havoc."

"Well, with all the hard work you boys have been doing, I think I can say you deserve it," Breda said, leaning back in his chair.

"Congratulations, Alphonse," Mustang agreed, holding out a hand that Al shook readily. "Welcome back to your body."

"Thank you, Co- ahh, Fuhrer Mustang!" He stumbled over the title, correcting himself quickly. It was strange for such a leap in the ranks to have been made – by each of Mustang's supporters – but he supposed that these weren't exactly normal conditions.

"Congratulations, Alphonse," Hawkeye echoed warmly from her desk. "Do you have any plans for the future?"

"Nothing yet," he replied. "Nothing that brother has told me anyway."

Ed smiled and stepped forwards to reply for his younger brother. "No big ideas yet. We might just head to Risembool to see Winry and Pinako, then figure out where to go next."

Havoc laughed. "You kids never stop, do you? Why not find somewhere to live and stay there?"

Ed and Al looked at each other. It was something that they hadn't considered. "Living in one place?" Ed muttered thoughtfully. "I . . . I don't think I'd be able to sit still for that long. Maybe some time in the future, but not yet."

"Of course not," Breda agreed. "You're still teenagers – you don't need to settle down yet-"

They were interrupted by the sound of the door bursting open and slamming against the wall. Everyone turned around (well, Ed and Al turned – the others were already facing the right direction) to look at the person who had just entered.

"Al!" Winry screeched. "You- you're really back!"

Ed cleared his throat, but she ignored him.

A grin fluttered onto Al's face, and Winry stepped forward to inspect him.

"You're taller than I expected," she said, before shaking her head. "Well, of course you are – you're older now. You've changed . . ."

Winry didn't seem to realise that her face was less than a foot from Al's face. The smell of her soap wafted into his nostrils, and Al found himself noticing things that weren't there when they were little and that didn't seem important when he was a suit of armour.

Ed cleared his throat again.

"Yes, Ed, I see you too. But . . . but it's Al."

There was a pause in which she inspected him head-to-toe. Al couldn't help but watch the soft curve of her back as she squatted down to knock at his legs and make sure they were real flesh and not some skin-covered auto-mail. His face reddened and his hands twitched a little.

"Erm, Miss Rockbell," Mustang said hesitantly. "I think you're making Alphonse a little uncomfortable."

Winry looked up innocently at Al's horrified-face. She put her head on one side, not understanding his expression, but stood and hugged him, with a comment of "I'm so glad you're back!" before bounding over to Ed, beginning to praise him on the work he put into bringing Al back and the fine job he did of it. Ed lapped the attention all up.

Al remained frozen, scared of the thoughts that had just run through his head a moment ago. Scared of the funny feeling running through him.

A loud wolf-whistle got everyone's attention and Al whipped his head up like a deer caught in a car's headlights. It wasn't him that everyone's attention was on, however.

"That's it, Havoc! I've told you not to do that anymore, and if you ignore my request one more time I'm going to have to fulfil those rumours that I shoot at you all when you're misbehaving!" Hawkeye yelled.

She had stood up from her desk to put some files away, and it seemed that Mustang had accomplished more in becoming Fuhrer than Ed and Al had first noticed. A very short skirt covered the tops of slim, pale legs, and Al wondered what colour . . .

What was happening? No, he took it back, he didn't wonder after all! He tried to get the image out of his head by focussing his eyes on the carpet in front of him, but it wouldn't disappear. He looked over to Ed, and now that Winry was out of his face, his eyes wandered to the similarly short skirt she wore. Winry had been wearing short skirts since Ed's third automail replacement, but it hadn't affected him like this.

With a whimper, Al tugged the front of his jacket down, hands trembling.

He didn't know where to look. If he looked to his right, there was Winry, and up ahead was Miss Hawkeye, now being placated by Fuhrer Mustang, and anywhere else he looked was covered by the images now in his head.

"I- I have to go!" he yelled into the chaos, and hurried out of the room at a limp.

"Wait, Al!" Ed called after him.

Al walked straight past the secretary, who had just pushed her chair out to cross her legs. Her bare legs.

"Ahh!" he tried to walk faster.

Turning the first corner in the hallway he came face-to-face with a Lieutenant on the floor, picking up some dropped files. He squeezed his eyes shut as he walked past her, quelling the urge to look back. At the end of that particular corridor a young Sergeant bent over a water-bubbler, unaware of the frightened Elric who had to turn around and walk in the opposite direction just so that he wouldn't stare.

He stopped with an "oof!" as he bumped into Ed, who had come running after him.

"Are you alright, Al?" Ed frowned.

"Brother, what's happening?" Al asked, biting his lip.

Ed had a double-take at the way that Al had stretched his jacket down over the front of his pants. "Er. Oh. Erm-! Let's get you sitting down somewhere. I think I just need to have a talk with you about . . . things . . ."

Yes, Al loved having his body back. But as a boy who was used to the body of a ten-year-old, he just wasn't mentally prepared for the bombardment of teenage hormones that came with puberty.

Just a few explanations that I couldn't figure out how to fit into the fic without straying from the point of it:

How Winry got to Central just on time: Ed sent a letter to everyone saying they'd be in Central on that day. She thought she'd surprise them and beat them there, then when she got into HQ she heard some soldiers mentioning Fullmetal was back, with some kid, so she rushed ahead to find them.

Havoc's whistling when Hawkeye stood up: when Mustang brought the miniskirt rule in, he decided it would be common courtesy to let the men know optimal viewing times. So whenever she stood up, he'd whistle. For the first week she ignored it, then one day she slapped him, and he tried to keep a lid on it after that, but he forgot this time because he was excited about Ed and Al getting back :3

Erm, that's all I remember. Do tell if you think anything else needs explaining.

I hope you enjoyed the story! Please review :D