Thank you everyone for the reviews/favorites/alerts from you faithful readers! :D I love reading your thoughts and knowing that this story is appreciated!

Enjoy!


I flopped onto one of the chairs in the lab, swiveling to the side to dump whatever I had been carrying in my arm on the table next to me

"Careful, Short Stuff. There's some expensive equipment there," called out Tony as he placed a cup of water near me before grabbing several items of food from the pile I had just dropped.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before," I mumbled as I still went about moving the food away from said equipment.

Tony shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee, making room on another table not too far away. As he did that, I grabbed a bag of chips and swiveled once more in my seat, glancing around the lab.

Had it gotten messier since the last time I was here?

"What exactly are you working on?" I asked, spotting the boots now on the floor and what looked like gauntlets and a chest piece on a further table.

"I told you, a project I started overseas," replied Tony without looking back.

I rolled my eyes, studying his 'project' and noticing that… "Very vague answer. It looks like armour."

That got him to turn in his chair to face me and the direction of said 'armour'. I don't remember seeing anything like that in my searches and I didn't think the military would go back to that type of protection.

Would they?

The public wouldn't really need something like that, right?

"Maybe it is armour," was Tony's sarcastic response.

I sent him an exasperated look as I attempted to open the bag of chips. "Is it your mission to be… be ärgerlich?"

"Depends on who I'm talking too. People could find me annoying without me having to even open my mouth," he replied in German which made me pause, surprised. He caught my reaction and rolled his eyes. "You're not the only one who learned many languages, Short Stuff."

"I just…" I paused, a feeling of sadness washing over me as I remembered the other instances I had spoken German to someone. "It's been a while since I was able to talk to someone in German who wasn't trying to kill or capture me." The last one who had been on my side had been this world's Mustang… And that hadn't ended well…

Yes, I shared a few sentences or words with Bucky and Steve as they were trying to learn the language but… it wasn't the same.

Tony paused whatever he was doing, eyeing me for a moment. He then nodded, turning in his chair, back to the table he was clearing. "Alright, let's go. You said the arm can come off, let's see how that's done."

Honestly, I was glad for that change of subject: I didn't need to start thinking about what had happened in 1945 at the moment. It wouldn't do me any good. Instead, I stood, ripping the bag of chips open with my teeth as I pushed my chair with my body towards where Tony was sitting.

When we had finally returned to the house – to the mansion – I had gone to change out of my still damp clothes and wash off the sand and salt, especially around my automail. I didn't want to think what would happen if it was exposed too long to those things… After that, I had opted for wearing my undershirt from 1945 instead of the t-shirt Pepper had gotten me, remembering how Tony had wanted me to take it off last time he had taken a look at my automail.

There are still some secrets I want to keep intact. He shouldn't have a problem getting to my automail with my undershirt on.

Once I was close enough, I flopped back onto the chair, turning my body so that my right arm was facing him and I began to munch on the chips.

"So, you said the connection is under the top plate, right?" asked Tony, still in German as he lifted my arm and placed it on the table. Well, tried. I was a little too far for that so he amused himself in rolling my chair closer with his foot.

I nodded, popping more chips in my mouth. "Near the shoulder," I mumbled through my chewing, letting him manoeuvre my arm as he wanted.

He hummed in acknowledgement as he searched the table for a screwdriver. "When was the last time it came off?"

"That my arm was off?"

"What else would it be, Short Stuff?"

"My leg, asshole."

Tony sent me a look. "Both then, brat."

I thought back for a moment before answering. "Close to four years." It had been when Winry had been dragged to Briggs to replace my automail.

Once more, not the most pleasant of memories…

"Let's hope the screws aren't rusted then. That'll be a pain in the ass to remove…"

I just nodded, not having thought about that. I had been careful with the outside of my automail but I hadn't paid too much attention to what goes on inside: that had been Winry's area of expertise. And, since she was usually just a phone call away and she did maintenance on my limbs often enough, I didn't think I would someday NEED to know the inner workings of my limbs.

That was biting me in the ass now…

"JARVIS, keep track of the pieces, will ya? Documented scans and everything, pictures and diagrams included," called out Tony as he began working.

"Of course, Sir," replied JARVIS and I leaned my head back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to spot where Tony had hidden the speakers and cameras needed to let JARVIS function as he did.

Meanwhile, I heard Tony mumbling under his breath as he kept tinkering, moving my arm to get a better angle. It didn't take too long before he managed to remove the top plate, near the shoulder, twisting it in his hands as he examined it.

"Damn, Short Stuff, what did you do to your arm?" he asked and I glanced to the side, noticing it was the piece that had been dented because of…

"Schmidt, the Red Skull, was annoyed with how meddlesome I had become," I replied softly, going back to my chips and dumping a bunch in my mouth. "I'm just glad he didn't rip the entire arm off…"

Tony had stopped playing with the metal plate, his gaze studying my arm carefully. I also took a moment to examine it and, even with the bandages still around the elbow area, I could make out multiple smaller dents and scratches littering the entire arm itself, souvenirs from all the fights I had been in in the last four years.

Fights in Amestris and on this side.

Tony and I caught the other's gaze and held it for a moment. I tried to read him but… I still couldn't. That damn man did resemble Mustang: I hadn't been able to get a good read on him either. Several heartbeats passed before Tony breathed deeply, placing the metal plate down and continuing on to the next one without passing a single comment.

Weird…

We were quiet as he continued removing each plate until my upper arm was exposed. Tony hummed as he examined the inner workings of my arm, poking at it from time to time.

"Alright, is it this bolt here?" he asked, pointing to one in particular near the shoulder port.

I could somewhat see where he was pointing to and nodded. "Yeah, that's the one."

He scanned over his tools, grabbing another screwdriver. "You're sure about this? You're not going to throw a tantrum once I take the arm off?" he asked, moving the tool closer to the bolt.

I rolled my eyes and motioned for him to continue. "Don't make me regret this decision."

He mumbled something so low, I couldn't make it out as he untightened the bolt. I glanced in his direction as his focus was purely on my arm, noticing how concentrated he was at what he was doing.

Well, I had to admit, even though he seemed to be an asshole concerning people, he did give a greater focus to anything mechanical.

Just his robots were a prime example: there didn't seem to be a scratch on them even though Tony had explained that Dum-E had been built years ago.

Speak of the devil.

"Long time no see," I mumbled as Dum-E stopped rolling next to me, his claw opening and closing in greeting followed by several beeps. The robot's claw moved past me to peer at what Tony was doing, looking almost curious. "Yeah, that's my arm."

Dum-E beeped once more just as I felt the weight of the automail get disconnected from the port.

Well, it was official: I no longer have an arm.

I watched as Tony gently set the prosthetic down, still studying it carefully before focusing on the piece that connected to the port.

"So, do you have an idea of how your arm even works?" he wondered, beginning to poke around the insert.

"It's connected to my nerves. The port," I motioned to my shoulder, "acts like an intermediate between my nerves and the electrical wires of the arm, amplifying my body's natural current." That at least I knew. How all that was done though… I didn't necessarily bother learning it from Winry.

Again, I should have probably listened to her when she had tried explaining it to me…

"So, if I'm understanding this correctly," began Tony, brining a small light up to my port. "After your arm was amputated – in a way I don't need to know – all of your exposed nerves were then connected to wires? Individually?"

"As close to individually as possible," I replied with a shrug, trying to push back the memories of those weeks of operation. I didn't exactly remember everything that had happened but, what I did remember was the pain... It wasn't something I wanted to relive…

Tony nodded and I waited a moment for the eventual comment that would follow but… nothing. Weird, he usually had a snarky reply to everything I said. Instead, he was eyeing my automail and then my port, frowning slightly, almost as if he was thinking.

About what? I didn't have the faintest idea.

"How about the leg?" he asked suddenly, rolling his way around me, motioning towards my left leg. "Is it connected in the same way?"

"Yes, under the knee cap, on the left side of it," I replied, focusing on his question instead of what could possibly be going on in his head. I bent forward, pulling my sock off and rolling up the loose pants. Tony, meanwhile, positioned himself in front of me and waited. I finally got the fabric all the way past my knee and leaned back just in time to see him stare a little too much at the port.

Most likely at the scar tissue around it.

He lifted his gaze and met mine. With a heavy sigh, he massaged his face before motioning for me to lift my leg.

Still, not a single comment from him.

As I had thought before, for someone who had something to say about pretty much everything, he was being uncharacteristically quiet.

And it didn't sit well with me because I could almost for certain say that it was partially from pity that he refrained from saying anything.

"I told you, I don't need pity," I finally snapped, still not having lifted my leg like he had wanted.

He sent me a look. "And what pity have I given you, Short Stuff?"

"Your lack of snarky comebacks, for starters."

"I thought we had started over? You want to go back to throwing insults at each other at every turn?"

I groaned in frustration, massaging my temple. "Not exactly insults. You have had something to say since I got here! And now, when you see my prosthetic limbs, when you find out how they're connected, what had happened to them, that's when you suddenly have nothing to say? Don't bullshit me."

Tony didn't answer and I stared at him for a moment before growling once more, going to cross my arms but forgot – again – that I couldn't… Instead, I ran my hand through my hair, messing it up. "Yes, as you may have assumed, I've been through shit but what I don't need from people is them treating me like I'm going to break," I snapped, pointing a finger towards him. "And, even though you are clearly an irritating person, you hadn't treated me like that. Just keep doing what you had been doing and we'll get along just great."

He didn't particularly look convinced and I was about to snap once more because if he thought that treating me any differently was going to work, then –

"So, we go back to how it was for the past week? That wonderful week?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oh… Well, if he put it that way… I waved him off. "Fine, slightly better than the past week."

"And I get to keep calling you Short Stuff."

I paused, breathing deeply, as I stared at him, unamused. "You are still an asshole."

"As long as we're on the same page."

"Unbelievable," I muttered before a smile broke across my face. This interaction felt better though. I may have gotten used to him being annoying that anything else from him seemed… disingenuous.

"And, off the record, Short Stuff," began Tony, his tone different than it had been before, "I don't think you're going to break."

Well, that was a surprise. A small smile spread across my face as I nodded, looking away and rubbing my nose. "Thanks."

There was a moment of silence between the two of us before Tony cleared his throat and motioned for me to lift my automail once more. "So, leg? I ain't getting any younger." And there it was, his tone back to how it had been, like the previous conversation hadn't happened.

I was fine with that actually.

I did as he asked, raising my left leg and he grasped it, leaning it against his own leg as he examined it. I continued to munch on the chips as Tony manoeuvred my leg and foot around, inspecting it and…

He frowned for a moment as he stretched my left leg completely, glancing between my automail and my real limb. He suddenly rolled forward and reached down, grasping my right leg as well and lifting it. I cried out, my body shifting awkwardly and the bag of chips tumbling off my lap before regaining my balance on the chair. Tony, meanwhile, had ignored my outburst as he laid both my legs on his thighs, scrutinizing both of them together, comparing them.

"What do you think you're –?"

"Your left leg is half an inch shorter than your right," he stated, cutting my off as I stared at him and then my legs, my mouth hanging open.

"What…?"

"Your prosthetic is too short. I'm surprised you haven't been off balance," he remarked, readjusting his grip and comparing the legs once again.

I stared at him in surprise. I had… grown? I thought I had finished with that, that I was going to remain… at my current height. Had – had it been because of the serum? Steve had grown significantly when he had been injected with the full serum. Maybe a part of it would help only somewhat?

"Well, if you hadn't been off balance before, when you'll get the newer version, you'll have to get used to it and I foresee several mishaps. I'll have JARVIS record all of them," added Tony with a smug smile, dropping my legs back to the floor as he rolled back towards the table with the tools.

"Fuck you," I grumbled as I stared at my legs. There truly was a difference that I hadn't noticed? Well, that was technically good news. However, it was true that readjusting to a longer leg was going to take a few days… The times it had happened with Winry's automail had me stumbling through the Rockbell house as I had tried to get used to the difference.

"So, what do you want to start with? Broken arm or upgraded leg?" asked Tony he rolled back, screwdriver in hand. "Is it easy to put the limbs back in if we take them off?"

"Relatively easy," I replied, not mentioning the pain that went with reconnecting said limbs. "Well, I'd prefer to get a functioning arm first. My leg is still fine."

Tony nodded, taping the screwdriver on his knee. "True. Can you part with your leg for the night while I run scans on it? That way, you get your leg back while I work on the designs for your new prosthetics."

Well… That sounded fair enough. "Fine," I agreed, reaching down and grabbing the bag of chips from the floor.

Tony got to work on my leg, letting it lean on another chair as he took off the front plates. I continued to eat and a… surprisingly comfortable silence fell between us, only broken from the crunch of my chips and the tinkering Tony was doing.

"So, this bolt?" he asked, pointing to the large one just about the knee joint.

"Ja."

He nodded as he returned his focus on my leg and, after a few minutes, that was it… My leg was also gone.

Tony lifted the leg, testing the weight for a moment before rolling around me once more, back to the table. "Don't run away, Short Stuff," he stated, placing the leg down.

I sent him a look and he just smirked, focusing on my automail.

"Asshole," I grumbled, finishing the chips and slouching down.

I swiveled in my chair, staring up at the ceiling, as Tony tinkered away on my leg. I glanced in his direction from time to time and had ventured some questions but, as time progressed, he answered less and less.

Until he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't hear me anymore.

Well, that sounded a little too familiar…

I couldn't even count the amount of times it had happened to me while I was researching, back in Amestris and on this side.

So, for the moment, I sat in silence, scanning over everything else in the lab.

That armour several tables away was still a mystery.

Did Tony truly need a suit of armour to protect himself with? Because he was Howard Stark's son? What did that entail? Was it a normal occurrence to have strange and dangerous men hovering at the edge of the property? Was that why he needed protection?

But they had said I may be useful… Was there something on the property that was important?

I glanced around at what was in the lab but… honestly, I couldn't exactly tell what was rare or of importance because almost everything was new to me. I wouldn't know where to begin.

Sighing, I slouched in my chair even more, swivelling as Dum-E beeped next to me, rotating his claw around in a questioning manner. "'m fine," I yawned, leaning my head back.

Maybe closing my eyes for a moment may help pass the time faster. Why hadn't I brought the tablet down with me?

I almost scoffed out loud. Because I brought food down with me instead and I had eaten almost everything.

Maybe I could –

"J, music."

I jumped, nearly falling clean off my chair as… I couldn't even call it music blared from the hidden speaker, nearly deafening me.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I yelled out, covering my left ear as my right was abandoned to the cacophony of whatever was still –

The volume level thankfully lowered by then and I groaned, already feeling the after effects on my eardrums. Oversensitive hearing was useful most of the time but not when the decibel level climbed that fucking high.

"That was an… interesting reaction," remarked Tony but he sounded so far away as I focused on breathing and the ringing in my ears.

"Seriously, are you fucking deaf?" I growled out, massaging my ear even though I knew it wouldn't do me any good…

"Just forgot you were still here," he mumbled and I finally glanced towards him, frowning.

"You forgot? And your music is at that high of a volume for fun?!"

He shrugged, eyeing me for a moment before going back to my automail. "I didn't realize it was that high. J, keep the volume at a lower level when Short Stuff is around."

"Dully noted, Sir."

And he went back to working.

That was it.

"Bastard…" I grumbled, massaging my ear again as I slouched in my chair. Truly unbelievable that–

Shit… I called him 'bastard', the comparison truly has settled in. Damn it…

I tried to ignore that realization as I focused on something else. Anything else that may… may…

I stared at the ceiling as I listened to the music, not finding it half bad. It was completely different from anything I had heard in the 1940s and… I was starting to enjoy it. I hadn't particularly paid attention to how music had changed and this was a very clear proof that it had.

Closing my eyes, I focused on the music, feeling my foot tap along with the upbeat rhythm and a ghost of a smile spread across my face.

Yes, this I could get used to.

I sat there for several songs, each one similar to the previous one, probably from the same band and, so far, I didn't dislike any of them.

"You don't need to stay, Short Stuff," said Tony, pulling me away from my thoughts with a surprised intake of breath.

I nodded, pushing myself up and stretching before turning towards him. He hadn't exactly stopped examining my leg but I did catch him glancing in my direction.

"I know you're stubborn but a bed is more comfortable than a chair," he added, motioning to said chair with a screwdriver.

He had a point but I still made a face in his direction before glancing towards the stairs. This was going to be interesting. I turned my back towards the exit and was about to push myself in that direction when I caught Tony send me a disbelieving look.

"As amusing as it would be to see you attempt to climb those stairs," he began with a shake of his head, "there's an elevator through those doors. Roll that way."

I huffed but did as he suggested, murmuring a "Thanks," as I rolled past him, towards said doors. I dodged around the other tables and whatever lay on the floor before reaching the –

Oh wow, okay, I hadn't been expecting that.

The doors had opened by themselves, revealing a smaller room and the elevator Tony had been talking about. I pushed myself in that direction and those doors opened by themselves as well.

"Thanks, JARVIS," I called out, giving myself a good push to get into the elevator and –

I cried out as I toppled over, the chair having got stuck on something. I landed flat on the ground in the elevator, the chair clanging to the ground further away.

Well that was just great.

"And the saga of mishaps begins," called Tony and I could somewhat hear him trying to muffle his laugh.

"Fuck you, asshole!" I called back, pushing myself up before rubbing the back of my neck.

"Are you in need of assistance, Ed?" wondered JARVIS.

I glanced up, shaking my head. "Nah, thanks though," I replied, pushing the chair back onto its wheels.

"J? Since when do you call someone by their nickname?" asked Tony, confused. At least he had stopped laughing and I somewhat heard him moving in my direction.

"He didn't want to be referred to as Mr. Elric, Sir. I do try to respect people's wishes on certain things."

By then, Tony had come up to the elevator, still looking confused. I just sent him a satisfied smirk at how I got his creation to somewhat listen to me instead. I pushed myself onto my knee and then my foot, using the chair as leverage as Tony just rolled his eyes.

"You truly are stubborn, Kid," he mumbled, pressing the button in the elevator.

I scoffed, flopping onto the chair. Little did – did he…

"Did you just call me 'Kid'?" I mumbled in shock as the doors closed.

Even though Tony looked like he wanted to escape, there wasn't exactly anywhere to go as the elevator went up. I stared at him for a moment before I shrugged and asked, "Why are you even coming up?"

He seemed to untense at the question and I figured that was the best way out of this awkward situation. It may have just slipped out for Tony, probably from what Howard had told him for years… Since I didn't think we were there yet to discuss my old nickname, I figured changing the subject would be best.

Damn it, Howard…

What had happened to him after Steve and I had disappeared…?

That was going to be a discussion in a very long time at this rate.

"Coffee, Short Stuff," he replied with a shrug and an amused – was that fake? – smirk. "I will be up late taking a look at your metal limbs. Unless you want to spend several days in that chair?"

I rolled my eyes as the elevator doors opened and I made sure to be careful navigating over the separation between the elevator and the main floor, not wanting to recreate the same scene as downstairs in the lab.

"I'd rather not," I replied, swiveling towards him and frowning.

"Pity."

"Have I told you that you're an annoying, irritating –"

"Gotta find some new insults, Short Stuff," he said, cutting me off and giving my chair a good push across the living room floor.

I just flipped him off as I rolled past the sofa.

"ED!"

Oh!

"Hi Pepper," I called, having passed her already and continuing across…

Maybe I should stop. I tried braking with my remaining leg, just managing to do so before I hit the far fall.

Meanwhile, Pepper was just staring at me, her eyes wide and breathing short. True, I hadn't told her specifically about my leg and now… it was clear from the empty pant leg that it wasn't there anymore. On top of that, my port for my arm was clearly visible because of the undershirt.

"I'm fine," I started which, too be honest, is how I started a lot of conversations concerning my limbs. "Tony's just working on them. I'm supposed to get my leg back tomorrow."

"Leg…," she repeated softly, her gaze focused on my missing automail.

"I'm. Fine," I repeated which seemed to snap her out of her starring as she nodded, looking as if she was refocusing herself.

It would probably be a good idea to not mention the attack on the beach to her…

She took a deep breath and then another, holding out her hands in front of her before she nodded again, turning towards me. "Right. Even though… this," she motioned with a vague wave towards my legs, "is new, I am glad that the two of you sorted through… whatever it was that happened."

"Oh, we didn't," called out Tony with a smirk, coffee cup in hand. "He's still Short Stuff."

"And he's still an asshole," I added, flipping him off once more.

He just sent me a thumbs up before entering the elevator once more and leaving Pepper and myself alone.

"Why do I put up with the two of you…?" she mumbled, massaging her face.


Does Tony know German in the MCU? Good question. In the comics, however, he does. And, let's not forget about Howard… So, my headcanon was that Howard forced him to learn many languages (like Ed knowing many languages!) and voila! Ed and Tony can communicate in German! :D

Let me know what you thought! :D

Stay healthy everyone!