I'm aliiiiiive!

You know what I said about updating more frequently because it's unfair to make you guys wait a year between updates? Like, a year ago?

It seems those rules don't apply to people trying to graduate from college with a dual-major.

But now I've graduated!

Now I just have to do those online classes for DESE, and I am a special education teacher!

I don't have much time to say much else. I'm actually on vacation celebrating my dad's return from deployment. In fact, I am uploading this chapter from a hotel in LA and I finished this chapter during the 3 hour flight from St Louis.

One shot coming soon! I hope...

Pickles.

"Drawing straws."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You'll cheat."

"No, I won't."

"I know you have a cut straw in your pocket. You use it whenever we have to decide who has to take out the trash in the office… or who has to entertain Hughes when he comes in with new pic-"

"That's enough, Havoc!"

They were lucky Hughes had volunteered for "Edward duty" and hadn't heard the beginning of what Jean had been about to say.

Roy made a mental note to torture his second lieutenant until he confessed how he knew about Roy's cache… well, he'd only mentioned the straw, Mustang didn't know if his whiskey and loaded deck of cards had been compromised –

Riza sighed.

"If neither of you want to take care of him, I'll do it."

Roy and Jean stared at her in sheer horror.

"No! Absolutely not!"

Havoc simply shook his head violently in protest.

Hawkeye sighed again.

"Sir, I really don't see – "

"It is not proper!"

"Not proper?" Riza's brow quirked questioningly and Roy realized his mistake too late. "Most people would say it's improper for a woman to carry a gun."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Then, pray tell, what standards do you use to define what is and isn't 'proper'?"

Mustang stuttered helplessly. Ironically, Havoc, who had been so quick to accuse his commanding officer, was just as quick to come to his rescue.

"Look, sir, it's not the fact that you're a woman… it's that Edward is a young man… young, but still a man, if you get me… and it might be that he wouldn't be comfortable."

They waited for her retort.

It didn't come.

She leaned against the wall of the kitchen and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes closed in contemplation.

"I see your point. I'll keep out of it. For now."

Roy was also going to force Jean to confess the secret to getting Riza Hawkeye to concede.

Not for the first time, he wondered why they didn't just have Alphonse do it. Not for the first time, he reminded himself that Ed would never stand to be bathed by his baby brother, sedated or otherwise. As argued by Al himself, as soon as Ed realized what was going on, he would start fighting. He would rather his brother see him as aggressive and uncooperative than a helpless invalid. But Fullmetal's behavior was far from their worries. If Edward became belligerent, his attempts to stop his younger sibling from coddling him would quickly turn into his younger sibling making sure his airways stayed clear while he seized. While cooperation was not guaranteed with whoever escorted him to the tub, it was less likely to be beyond verbal if it was one of the adults – in other words, someone who didn't hold a lofty reputation of him in the first place.

"What about me?"

Mustang nearly jumped.

Maes had appeared in the doorway.

"Hughes… I thought you were – "

"He's taken all of his medicine except the shot. I doubt I have the 'magic touch'." He shot Riza a knowing glance. She neither confirmed nor denied the unspoken comment.

Roy and Jean exchanged grimaces.

Hughes's typical cheery expression drooped.

"What is it?"

Mustang waited for Havoc to save him again. Jean remained silent. It was Roy's turn to give the awkward explanation.

"Well… Maes… Edward, I think, needs a specific kind of help right now –"

"He doesn't need to be babied," Hawkeye cut in.

Hughes appeared, of all things, offended by her words.

"Babied? Who said anything about babying? All I plan to do is – "

"Massage his hair, put a bubble beard on his face, sing to him –"

"I would not –"

He cut himself off.

He grinned.

"A bubble beard. I hadn't thought of that."

"Maes is off the table."

Hughes's grin melted into a frown. "Well… why doesn't Roy do it? It's his house?"

"Are you crazy? He'd kill me."

"He'd listen to you. You are his commanding officer," Riza said.

Roy had an answer. He really did. He just didn't know how to put it into words.

"I… I can't…"

"You've showered with other men before," Havoc pointed out. His hand seemed restless, he kept almost reaching into his pants pocket and then pulling back, forming a fist or fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. Roy suspected Jean was feeling the need for a cigarette. "Hell, you've showered with me before. How is that any different?"

"Because Fullmetal doesn't know that it's any different!" Mustang's cheeks were red, but the rest of his face was flushed, an odd combination of nervous and fazed. "And if he thinks it's different, then it is different, and… it feels wrong."

"Why do we have to help him anyway?" Jean's hand had successfully made into his pocket. Roy could see the rectangle that was a packet of cubebs. "He's talking and eating on his own. Why should he need help washing his a- washing himself?" Havoc refined his vocabulary when Riza fixed her sherry eyes on him in a warning gaze.

"Because he can't walk or sit up on his own. Alphonse has to carry him to and from the water closet and someone has to get him upright before he eats."

Havoc's fingers had wrapped around a cigarette and pulled it halfway out of his pocket. He didn't appear to have noticed. "Oh."

"Well… if not me… then how about Gracia?"

Roy was fully prepared to shoot him down, sure that any suggestion anyone made would be insufficient, because how could there be a sufficient solution to this kind of problem. He was not prepared for his friend to have a potentially acceptable idea.

"N-what?"

"How about my wife? She's used to washing other people's butts. Especially young butts."

If Mustang hadn't known that Maes and his wife had a baby, he would be extremely concerned. Things being as they were, he was quite the opposite.

"Do you think she would?"

"Sure. She's been telling me how she wishes she could help beyond cooking you dinner. If you'd like, I could call her now."

Roy was more than ready to agree, but out of habit, he looked at Riza and Jean for their opinion. Havoc, who had transported the cigarette to his mouth, shrugged noncommittally. Hawkeye didn't respond besides tilting her head ever so slightly, the unspoken message as clear as if she had spoken. This is your house. He's your responsibility. It's your decision.

Roy nodded decidedly and turned back to Hughes.

"Please, if you would."

XXX

Edward felt like the upper half of his body had been run over by a wagon, then the wagon had backed up and parked itself on top of him. The pills were hard to swallow – everything was hard to swallow – but they turned the worst of pulling, aching sensation into fake bubbles of warmth beneath his skin. There was a blazing pocket on his left arm, marking the spot where his muscle had torn and the tiny injection points where the anti-toxin had been administered. Ed studied the mix of red and blue on his arm, then turned his head to look at the swollen port of his automail. The medication had blanketed the tingling pain, replacing it with the feeling that a warm rag had been wrapped around his stump.

He had gotten sick of the salty stickiness of his soiled tank shirt and had (with Al's assistance) peeled the filthy garment off his torso. He had been able to see the muscles of his chest tensing and relaxing through the fabric. Now, with his shirt removed, Ed stared in semi-horror at his discovery.

"Hey, Al?"

"Yes, Brother?"

"Could you… press on my chest… please?"

He expected the awkward silence. It didn't make it less uncomfortable.

"Okay…"

The leather gauntlet was strangely heavy yet gentle as Alphonse pushed against his brother's sternum, careful not to cause any pain.

"Um… Brother, what is this supposed to –"

"I'm stiff."

"What?"

"Look."

Edward poked at the space of flesh above his left nipple.

"I'm all hard."

It was terribly difficult to explain. Edward had assumed that when his body refused to cooperate with him, it had been because of limpness. It had not occurred to him that perhaps the tightened muscles had simply never let go. It didn't feel that different from a typical pulled muscle, what with the pain and the lack of mobility, but seeing how the different parts of himself were slightly out of place, pulled up or to the side, he was aware of his misconception.

"But… I thought you were all torn up."

"Yeah, but… I'm stiff, but I'm not. Like half in and half out. Like a cramp, but not a bad one."

Alphonse tried to understand, but he hadn't had an organic body in two years. As frightening as it was to admit, he was beginning to forget the feeling of bodily functions. Hunger, thirst, and the urge to relieve himself had become alien to him. Finally, he shook his head in defeat.

"I'm sorry, Brother, but…"

Ed sighed. "It's okay. I can't really explain it, anyway."

It was at that moment that Roy and Hughes decided to pay a visit.

"Colonel! Brother says he's all stiff."

Both officers looked equally horrified. Ed tapped his chest with a metal finger.

"My chest is really hard."

Oddly, the men let out a collective sigh of relief. The brothers weren't sure what was so calming about hearing that someone's chest muscles had petrified. Roy seemed to realize this and his concerned expression returned. He made his way to the bedside and abruptly pressed his hand to Edward's chest. Ed flinched in surprise but did not pull away. As bizarre as this was, he wanted someone to understand what he was feeling, even if it meant that someone wasn't his family.

After a moment of contemplative quiet, Roy took his hand away.

"That is… very odd. Hughes, did you give him the relaxant?"

Maes nodded.

"Of course, I did. I gave him everything except the shot."

Roy thought for a moment.

"Maybe the dose isn't high enough? I'll call the doctor –"

Ed made to protest. While the noise he did make got the message across, it was not the noise he meant to make. The chords in his throat spasmed in response to the ferocity of his vocalization and the sound that came out was comparable to a pig being slaughtered. Everyone in the room leapt backward, including Al. Ed's metal hand clapped around his neck in alarm. Al was the first to recover.

"Brother… are you okay?"

Ed was afraid to speak.

His lack of answer was answer enough for Mustang.

His phone was getting quite the workout today, he thought.

XXX

When Gracia arrived, she brought three things: her daughter, a diaper bag, and a basket of ornate soaps and brushes. Once again, Roy wasn't sure if he should be jealous of Fullmetal or jeering at him. Like an oiled machine, she handed off her sleeping daughter to her husband, along with the baby bag, informed Maes that Elicia had been fed but would probably need to be changed later, and asked Mustang if she was welcome in the house.

"All right," she said, as official as an architect analyzing a building for renovation, "if you don't mind, Roy, could you please show me to your bath tub?"

Out of instinct, Mustang glanced at Hughes, expecting a territorial glare aimed at him. Maes was too busy gushing over his dozing child to notice the possible innuendo. Roy led Gracia to the bathroom and then to the guestroom where her client unknowingly awaited. He wasn't sure if he should say something. The situation was so delicate as it was, he was terrified of breaking the barrier into the unintentionally lewd, even though he knew that the line had long since been crossed and was behind in the dust.

"Um… if you need anything…"

"Oh, Roy, I assure you, I have everything I need."

"Still though… Thank you –"

"Oh, hush," and she shooed him across his own living room and into his kitchen. "Give us some privacy. This is a woman's job, best if you men stay out of the way." Under normal circumstances, Roy would have been offended. Under these circumstances, he was more than happy to comply.

XXX

Ed and Al straightened (the motion made Ed wince) at the entrance of Mrs. Hughes. Upon seeing his caller was female, Ed's automail arm shot out to his disgusting shirt and instead collapsed onto bed in a stiff/limp disaster.

"Brother!"

Ed's body had started pulling, his chest and stomach and legs had all cramped together and he couldn't stifle his grunt, which turned into a squeal because of his spasming voice box. Mrs. Hughes was startled, and not by the boy's toplessness. Any shock she might have felt did not reach her face or voice as she asked if she needed to fetch someone.

"No," Ed managed to squeeze out from where he twitched irregularly. "I just… need to…" He didn't say what he needed to do as, whatever it was, he appeared to be too busy doing it. After about five minutes, his sporadic movements seemed to slow. Once they had, he noticed his brother's hand on his back. He took a deep breath – he was disappointed to find that his chest was still tight – and managed to swallow roughly.

"I think… I'm okay now."

"Are you sure?" That was Al, ever the doubter of his brother's judgment.

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to sit you up?"

"Yeah."

Ed started spasming again as his brother lifted him, but he stayed upright when placed. Edward stared at Gracia as if he was only just noticing her. He looked terrified, like he expected her to eat him.

She surveyed his body, taking visible note of his automail. Ed had the frightening thought that she was judging him, as if she somehow knew what he had done and was trying to decide what measure of disgust would be appropriate. He felt the familiar confliction of emotions whenever someone stared at his metal limbs: anxiety over their most certain questions and assumptions and wondering if he deserved their scorn.

"Um… Mrs. Hughes, why are you –"

"Right." She cut off Alphonse before he could finish his question. "Alphonse, I don't think I'll be able to carry your brother to the washroom, if you would so kind as to escort us."

"What!?" The shrillness in his voice was purely Edward.

Al turned his head this way and that, first at his brother and then at Mrs. Hughes.

"Okay…"

"Wait, Al – What's going on? Hey!" Al paid him little mind as he gathered Edward in the hammock of his arms. He spotted the basket of soaps, which Gracia had placed on the foot of the bed when she first entered, as she picked it up again to bring it with them to their destination. His mind answered its own question. "Oh, no. No, no, I do not consent to this! Put me down! I am not a little kid! I don't –"

"Edward."

They hadn't yet left the room and Ed was already looked like he was considering climbing out of his brother's arms, no matter the consequence. Gracia stopped Al at the threshold, turning to face the brothers and looking Edward directly in the eyes.

"You must promise me you will never, ever tell anyone I told you this."

By Gracia's barely contained smile, Ed knew he was about to be told a juicy piece of blackmail. He didn't want Mrs. Hughes to see how intrigued he was – she was, after all, trying to bribe him into letting her bathe him of all things – so he did his best to appear none the wiser.

Gracia pretended to fall for it.

"Okay…" he said, his flesh arm curled against his chest and his automail hand trying to clutch Al's breastplate.

Mrs. Hughes looked this way and that, although no one else was in the room, then leaned forward and spoke in a hushed, solicitous voice.

"About a year after Maes and I were married, he and Roy went drinking at Roy's favorite bar to celebrate his birthday. Maes ended up dragging the both of them home in the middle of the night; Roy was completely cock-eyed and Maes was mostly out of it. I had to strip them both down, carry Roy to the couch, and guide my husband to his own bed.

"Of course, as drunk as he was, Roy vomited a full night's worth of whiskey all over himself and my nice new couch. So, I woke him up as best I could, stripped him down again, and just about dropped him into the tub and turned the shower on him."

"Wait, you stripped him down again…" Al repeated, his helmet cocked in confusion. Then he realized that, by the first time, she had meant his social clothes, and the second time… his less-than-social clothes. Ed realized this as well and his mouth, already pulled into a bizarre grin by the stiff muscles in his face, widened in authenticity. Gracia didn't give confirmation other than a quick pause before continuing.

"Obviously, I couldn't leave him like that, so I was up all that night watching a naked man who was not my husband throw up on himself repeatedly while lying in my shower. My point is…" She paused again, this time because Edward had begun cackling in a voice warped by his spasming larynx. "My point is that I've seen much, much worse and you have the comfort of knowing you didn't do this to yourself. You also have leverage in case Roy decides to use this as an excuse to be cruel. If he does, mention that nice new couch he got for Maes and me as a thank you for a wonderful night out."

Ed was now laughing so hard his body had started jerking again. Alphonse was split between giggling himself and being concerned by the way his brother was convulsing.

"Brother? Are you okay? Calm down, Brother, you have to breathe!"

Ed sucked in a gulp of air and huffed and puffed until his twitching slowed down enough that there was no longer a concern for falling out of his brother's arms.

XXX

Gracia's story helped, but Edward was still a proud adolescent boy, and he hid his face in Alphonse's metal chest as he was carried to the washroom. He needn't have; the men had barricaded themselves in the kitchen per the order of Mrs. Hughes (Hawkeye had been granted immunity from this law and had, in fact, been invited to help if the need arose).

For the most part, Ed kept his eyes shut.

Al volunteered to help to undress his brother the rest of the way, for Ed's sake as much as Mrs. Hughes's. She accepted but did not leave. In response to Edward's squeal of horror (with his eyes still shut) she reminded him that, being a mother, she was no stranger to the male anatomy and assured him she would be neither impressed nor disappointed.

After that, Ed disassociated from his body as a measure of safety.

True to her word, Mrs. Hughes said nothing as, humming amiably, she scooped him up, ignored his "eek!" of shock, and deposited him in a pre-prepared sauna, complete with bubbles to preserve his dignity (there was a reason why Maes had volunteered his wife, after all).

The change was instantaneous.

Ed was familiar with how warm water eased the aches in his muscles from his automail and knew how wonderful a hot bath was after a hard spar. Even so, he let out a moan of ecstasy as the tiny fibers that had been trapped contracting for hours on end were soothed by the heat forcing them to loosen, if only slightly.

Al, of course, panicked.

"Brother! Are you all right?! Is it too hot? Too cold? Have you been burnt?! Do I-"

"Shut up, Al!"

Al shut up.

XXX

It wasn't easy, but not in the way they'd expected.

Rather than fighting with Ed and trying to get him to allow himself to be bathed, it was a matter of keeping him from slipping under the water and drowning. It certainly helped that Ed was able to hold onto the lip of the tub with his right hand to keep himself upright. Eventually, he settled with draping his metal arm over the side (it didn't need to be washed anyway) so that he could he could involuntarily melt without risk as Gracia ran her fingers through his hair. Setting his stiff back against the porcelain, he swiftly found himself dozing, the only sound being Mrs. Hughes's humming and the sound of the water splashing as Ed's body randomly shook and twitched.

Alphonse left at some point – Ed was not sure of when because Al kept in mind the doctor's advice against sudden noises and removed himself as quietly as he could.

Inevitably, the water that was poured over his hair to remove the lather ran over his shoulder port, soaking the infected skin and making the wound sting. He was unable to catch the hiss of pain that escaped through his teeth.

Gracia immediately paused,

"Edward."

" S'nothing. Just my shoulder."

"Ah." She returned to wiping the sweat from Ed's back. "Yes, Maes told me what happened."

Edward expected her to elaborate.

She did not.

XXX

Havoc had given into temptation and stepped outside to smoke the cigarette he'd been fondly. This left Maes, Roy, and Hawkeye in the kitchen. Mustang was surprised by how grateful he was to Ed for requesting ice cream. The treat calmed a spot Roy hadn't known he'd had and Hayate was clearly enjoying himself, what with how often Roy and Riza "accidentally" dropped a glob of chocolate and vanilla. Hughes watched the dog pace back and forth, looking like he wanted to enjoy himself but was unable to. Roy knew the expression: Maes had something he needed to tell Roy, but he wasn't at all sure he wanted to say it. Roy, not wanting his dessert to be ruined by bad news, was happy to wait. When he'd resorted to scraping the bottom of the paper bowl for the last liquid bit, he knew he could no longer delay. He set his empty bowl on the floor where Hawkeye had placed hers, letting her dog slurp what was left. It was swiftly confiscated.

"Chocolate is toxic to dogs," Riza explained as she disposed of it.

Hayate whined at the loss but silenced with a single look from his mistress.

"All right," Roy said, squaring his shoulders as if he could fend off the stress he was most certainly about to inherit. "What's happened."

Maes sighed and removed his glasses so he could rub his temples. It occurred to him that his friend had wrinkles albeit still in his twenties.

"You know the boy Ed was found with when they got all tangled up in barbed wire while they were looking for those cattle thieves a couple of weeks ago?"

It did not go past Roy that the young man who was a few years older than Fullmetal had been referred to as a boy while Ed was not.

"I remember him being mentioned."

"He's dead. Apparently, he was behind on his immunizations as well."

It took a Mustang to realize what his friend meant.

"Scared the piss out of the orderly who tried to bring him breakfast. He looked like he'd tried to fold his backbone in half and that he'd been having a blast while doing it. He was smiling like a kid at a carnival. The coroner said he'd probably been in indescribable pain as he died."

Roy needed to sit down.

"Were you there?"

"No. Hakuro had the report delivered to me since I seemed so eager to stay in East City. I told him I –"

Roy waved him off.

"We heard you when you came in."

"Oh." Maes paused, as if considering if he ought to be embarrassed. He seemed to decide not to and resumed his narrative. "Anyway, the file contained pictures. I thought you ought to know."

Roy nodded his agreement. What was unspoken between them was that Mustang would have received the news even if Maes hadn't told him. Hughes had chosen to tell his friend himself so as to make sure that Roy received it in a way that was preferable to him.

The colonel sighed, suddenly feeling tired.

"Edward will be fine, sir," said Riza. "They didn't know the other boy was sick. We caught Ed early."

Just like we caught you.

The were saved from further melancholy by both Havoc and Alphonse making themselves present. They stared at each other and Jean smiled at their timing.

"How's the Chief?"

"He's fine. I thought it might be best to give them some privacy."

Havoc looked like he was about to make a lewd joke but stopped when he caught Hughes's face. Typically, Maes, being a man, would have joined in with the raunchy humor, but this pun would have involved his wife, and everyone knew that Maes never let anything be said about Gracia outside of good graces.

He switched tactics.

"That's swell! Everyone at HQ will be glad to hear it. They're awful worried. They even got him some get-well presents."

Havoc took himself over to the case of files he had brought from the office and deftly reached inside to pull out a square, thin package wrapped in brown paper, whose absence significantly shrank the size of the case.

"This is from Breda. I think it's chocolates. Seems like what he would do, the fat-ass –"

"Havoc, that's uncalled for," Hawkeye admonished, her countenance disapproving. "Breda was only trying to be nice."

"Yeah, you're right, sir," Jean acquiesced, though he rolled his eyes when Riza wasn't looking. He went right back to the case and searched through it some more, found what he was looking for, and pulled out a small, thin book. Roy was pleased at how much of the collection of paperwork was proving to not be paperwork.

"This one's from me."

Havoc proudly handed off the book to Alphonse with a smirk that showed how much superior he thought his gift was compared to his colleagues.

Al did his best not to show any amusement as he accepted the copy of Arty's Alchemy Emporium. Jean had clearly grabbed the book because of the inclusion of "alchemy" in the title and had not recognized the selection as a children's book – or perhaps he had, and had assumed the style would appeal to Ed, what with is age. Alphonse knew his brother would probably go on a massacre if he knew… or in his current state, gone into cardiac arrest from fury.

"Thank you, Mr. Havoc. Brother will love it."

Jean puffed out his chest proudly.

"Of course, he will. That's why I got it."

XXX

Roy and Riza had been right when they had argued that Ed would not have wanted to be babied.

This, on the other hand… he could get used to this.

If this was what Hughes meant when he said that every man should have a wife, Edward was fully ready to join whatever religion he was preaching.

Gracia moved with gentleness as if Ed was a newborn kitten as she dried him off and patted down his automail. She pulled a fresh shirt over his head – it was one of Maes's old ones, one Gracia knew he wouldn't miss. It was large enough to completely cover him, leaving no need for pants, which was what she had intended. Al had supplied clothes, of course, but Mrs. Hughes had politely rejected all of them save the boxers. It was of her opinion that one should be able to dress as comfortably as possible when under the weather, and from what she knew from her husband, this often meant foregoing trousers concerning males.

When she called for Alphonse to carry his brother out of the washroom forty minutes after he'd been carried in, his wet hair was wrapped in a towel and he looked on the verge of sticking his thumb in his mouth and going to sleep.

Gracia proceeded to strip the bed of the soiled sheets while Edward blinked sleepily in Al's hold, and after the sticky linens were replaced with fresh ones, Al gently laid him down and covered him with a light blanket.

"Do you need anything, Brother?"

Ed glanced lazily at Al, his cheeks still pulled back in a false snarl and his pectorals rising and falling spasmodically. The expression seemed to say that, whatever Ed needed, his brother could not give him.

"How about some lemonade?" Gracia offered, if only for the sake of allowing Alphonse to feel needed.

Ed made a grunting noise of contraction and sighed as he closed his eyes.