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Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Excerpt from Acquainted with the Night by Robert Frost
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Edward stared, stupefied beyond all reason. Two hands, two perfectly fleshy hands were before him. He marveled, simply marveled at the site of both of his hands actually matching each other in color once again. He flexed them together, watching in pure amazement as the tendons moved, the skin wrinkled, and the joints bent at his command.
A perfect, unified, marvelous movement of muscle and tissue and bone and tendon and skin it was, flawless to his eyes. No sound of metal upon metal, no minute sound of whirling electricity, gears or sputtering wires. Just the pull and flex of muscles, his own flesh and blood.
Beautiful.
Tentatively, almost afraid for this to not be real –oh how cruel that would be!-, Ed's hands clasped themselves together. No flesh on metal this time, but flesh on flesh. Wonderfully warm flesh upon flesh, fingers entwining themselves with each other further in their wonder lust. His hands came to his nose and he sniffed. No harsh metallic scent came, no stinging reminder that blood smelled a bit like metal. Just the smell of warm skin washed with soap and earth, just like newly turned soil. His teeth found their way to his right hand, biting down lightly. It stung slightly in what he recognized as pain.
He would have cried out in joy had he not been so lost in his wonderment at his own body.
Weakly lifting the blankets that covered him from where he had been laying on the bed, he slowly sat up to see the same magnificent thing had happened with his leg. No longer wire and metal plates, but bone marrow and blood vessels. This time he did cry out in joy, a weak little noise that shot through the air softly. The noise came and went several times as he groped at his leg, marveling at its warmness and happily surprised at the small pain that tore through it wherever he pinched. His toes wiggled as he grasped them in his hands, the rough callousness of the bottom of his foot becoming something he made a point to burn in his memory.
He had his flesh again, he was a whole body.
He would have cried right then, had another's body not flung itself onto him at that moment. Its arms clung around his neck, its shoulders shaking as silent sobs forced themselves upon them. For a moment, Edward was confused. Who could this be? What dark blond haired child would cry into his shoulder-? And when his sluggish mind finally caught up, he returned the embrace fiercely, salt water pricking his eyes. Inhaling deeply Ed vaguely remembered that the scent of apples mixed with river water had only ever belonged to one person in his life.
"Al…" he says quietly, the arms around his neck tightening as the sobs become vocal.
He pulled away for a moment, examining the face of his brother. Deep honey mustard colored eyes bloodshot from crying, trade mark cowlick to the right in his hair…just like he remembered him to be.
And he finds himself hugging Al once more, tears brimming over his eyes in pure ecstasy at the simple fact that Al had a body once more. Al could eat, touch, dream, cry, laugh, taste, blush, flex, smile, frown, glare, smell, breath in this body of supposed weak and (scientifically) already dying body. Ed had never felt such an overwhelming sense of euphoria wash over him. Not even when his mother would use to smile for him.
His eyes stung intently as the tears streamed down his face, the droplets quietly landing somewhere on the floor. His wonderment moves from his own appendages to his brothers restored body. The skin was warm and soft, no longer hard and cold metal that gave no heat. Muscles tensed and relaxed as the crying continued to control his brother, said liquid dampened his shoulder. The hair from his brother's head tickled his nose and cheek softly, its color and soft texture relaxing. But the thing that Ed found most amazing of all was Al's heartbeat. The heartbeat he had not felt in over five years.
It was simple, yet utterly astounding. The simple beat he felt from his brother's chest against his own had Edward's breath hitching a few times in a row as his lungs tightened slightly in total surprise. Fundamental and yet so very mind boggling at the same time. One little sound an organ made was the difference between life and death, between being and not being. Edward sighed, his embrace slacking slightly as he slowly stopped clutching at his brother, as if he were afraid he would disappear. For the first time in more than half a decade, Ed felt that things were truly, absolutely right in the world.
Because all he knew in that moment was that he and his brother had their flesh again.
Their bodies were whole.
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This is the result of looking at my hands for a good hour of the today and just becoming amazed by how absolutly wonderful the human body is...oh yes, I am a dork if I spend my Sundays doing things like this.
