Stray

In his other life, Edward wouldn't even have noticed the tiny cat couched in the corner of the alleyway, but here, in this life, he often walked with his head down. Not because of any shame he felt but simply out of necessity. When he crossed back through the Gate he had once again come out without an arm and a leg, something he had been expecting, and the selection of prosthetic limbs in this world was extremely primitive – something he had not even considered.

But Edward adapted the best he could, and part of that adaptation meant having a heightened awareness of the ground he walked on, so as not to catch his unfeeling, uncoordinated false toes on anything hazardous that might send him face-first onto the sidewalk. How embarrassing would that be?

If he were not looking down, he wouldn't have seen the pathetic, half-starved feline hiding in the shadows. Careful of his balance, he crouched down to get a better look at the creature, and, when it felt his closeness it began a hesitant, rumbling purr, incongruous with it's skinny frame. "Hey," Ed said softly. "Runty little thing, aren't you?"

The responding meaow was weak but indignant, Edward slid a hand under the animal, scooping it up and cradling it against his false arm.

"My little brother was always picking up strays like you," he told the cat, his voice still soft. "I kept telling him we didn't lead the kind of life for pets – no time to take care of one, no place to keep it. We were always moving around, Al and I."

The cat rubbed its head into the crook of his elbow, and Ed stroked its head sadly, thinking of how his brother wouldn't have even been able to feel the warm, squirming body or the soft fur.

"Sorry," he said after a few minutes, putting the cat back in its forsaken corner. "I don't have a home to take you to." He stood up, looking down at the little animal, and jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Alfons had watched the foreign boy leave the lab and decided to follow him, his curiosity about his friend finally getting the better of him. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about the seemingly fragile look about Ed that drew him to study him whenever he thought he wasn't looking. The boy was pale, thin, and sad-looking, as if he had lost something irreplaceable, making his life a mere shadow of what it could have been. He was brilliant, certainly, those golden eyes sparking to life deep in a true conversation about science, but over little else. Except, perhaps, a stray cat?

"Alfons!" Ed said, obviously startled.

The younger boy spread his hands apologetically. "Sorry, Ed, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that.."

Ed gazed at him warily. "That's ok," he said, but his voice was guarded. "What did you want?" He looked around and frowned. "What are you doing, following me or something?"

Alfons felt a flush spread across his cheeks, but tried to ignore his embarrassment at being caught. "Kind of," he admitted, and, when Ed looked at him expectantly, he followed with a slightly longer explanation. "I was just… curious, that's all." Ed raised his eyebrows at him, prompting him to elaborate even more. "I wanted to see where you live," he admitted finally.

Ed gave a short laugh at that, spun on his heel, and motioned for Alfons to follow him. "You wanna see where I live? Come on. It's parked at the end of the block."

Parked?

Soon he was watching Edward rap on the roof of a dilapidated old car. "You can't be serious," he said flatly.

"Sure am. Home sweet home," Ed said sarcastically.

"You've been living in your car all this time?" Alfons asked, the horror in his voice making Ed glare at him defensively.

"So what?" Ed demanded, his eyes burning home the challenge.

But Alfons just gave a light laugh. "You should have said!" he told his friend. "I have a spare bedroom!"

It wasn't an offer he made lightly. He wouldn't invite just anyone to stay with him.

It was just that, well, Al had this thing for wanting to bring home strays.