Hey there. Here's chapter three. I know you're probably wondering somewhere in the back of your mind why these chapters are popping up so quickly. It's because this story is already finished. I'm just procrastinating because I'm lazy. :3

Anywho, this chapter will have some humor in it... somewhere. _ I won't guarantee it.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. Duh.

Ed's eyes glanced up from the newspaper at the doorway when he heard the sound of slow footsteps coming down the hall. It turned out to be Gracia, carrying her daughter against her shoulder. Ed smiled fondly at the memory of his own mother leaning over to scoop his younger brother up from the couch and into bed.

"Oh! I didn't see you there, Ed," Gracia said, slightly breathless from carrying Elysia's growing body. "Um, would you mind...?" She nodded down at the crown of mussed, golden hair. Ed shook his head and set the paper down, holding out his arms to accept the child. Elysia flopped against him like a ragdoll, still very much asleep. "Thank you," Gracia said with a grateful smile, rubbing one of her shoulders as she hunted down breakfast through the cupboards. "She's getting to be like her father, baby fat and all."

Ed chuckled. Hughes hadn't been pudgy, but he certainly wasn't lean like Fuery. Maes Hughes and Roy Mustang had been almost identical in body mass, at least to Ed's eyes.

"I don't think Alphonse was awake when I passed your room, Ed," Gracia said, cracking eggs into a sizzling pan of butter, "Will he be getting up in time for breakfast? I think I'm making something he likes today. He should start eating more, he's getting a little thin-..." She paused when she looked over her shoulder and found that Ed was helplessly glaring down at the kitchen tile. "Ed? Are you okay?"

"M'fine," Ed said uncomfortably, and heaved himself to his feet, replacing his own body with Elysia's. He didn't like to constantly be aware of his brother's poor health. As he began going down the hall towards his and Alphonse's room, the mail-bell rang at the front door, and he halted his previous movements to go and fetch the package of envelopes that had been slid through the metal flap of the door.

"Is that the mail?" Gracia called from the kitchen, "Funny. We usually don't get anything but bills anymore, perhaps something from the Grangefords every once in a while. Anything for you?"

Edward thumbed through the several envelopes, finding that indeed, most of them were bills. His lazy movement ceased, however, when his finger skimmed over his and Alphonse's last names printed neatly in the middle of a envelope that read: Military Case File Government-Owned. Easily sliding the envelope into his jacket sleeve, he returned to Gracia and handed her the rest of the pile.

"Nope. Nothing," he lied smoothly. "I'll go wake Alphonse up. He's been sleeping long enough," Ed said with a deep stretch of his arms into the air.

Alphonse was sitting up in bed when Edward found him. In one hand, he held a safety pin with which he was repeatedly pricking his fingers with. Each time the brunette saw a bead of blood, he would smile in a way that particularly scared Ed. He looked almost... manic.

"Al! What are you doing?" Ed cried, nearly stumbling his way over to the bed so that he could snatch the safety pin away from Alphonse's hands. The brown-haired boy jumped in surprise, and he immediately shoved his hands underneath the blankets to hide them. He looked as if he wanted to cry, but Ed knew that Alphonse wouldn't burst into tears just yet.

"I-I'm sorry, Brother!" Al blurted out, "I'd forgotten what pain felt like, s-so I pricked myself."

"Al, you don't have to hurt yourself in order to feel something! You can just as easily stub your own toe while getting out of bed!" Ed said, hands in the air with exasperation. "I don't ever want to see you doing that again. Now, let me see your hands."

"No," Alphonse said softly, curling himself further into the blanket. Edward was surprised for a moment. His brother had never disobeyed him in such a way before. Sure, they'd had their disagreements and problems, but never once had Alphonse gone against what he'd asked him to do. It made Ed queasy.

"Alphonse, " he asked on a lower tone, "Please. Let me see your hands. I just want to see."

"No," Al whispered, shifting away from Edward farther. "No, Ed."

Rarely did Alphonse call Ed by his first name. He only did it when he was extremely angry or stubborn. Now Ed knew that Alphonse was hiding something on his hands.

"Alphonse, don't make me wrestle you down." Edward said with a small tremor in his voice, "I will. Now show me your hands."

With a choked sob, Alphonse held out his hands and hung his head in shame. For a moment, Ed forgot to breathe, and he sat down hard on the bed. His younger brother had traced what looked like transmutation circles on his palms. They were bloody symbols of destruction.

"Al, why? You can't bring him back," Ed said softly, taking one of Alphonse's hands in his own and rubbing away some of the blood with the corner of his sleeve. The cuts of the circle were deep and looked as if they would take at least a week to heal. Alphonse usually wasn't tolerant of pain; each time he'd skin his knees as a kid, Ed would have to fetch their mother to carry him home because Al refused to move.

"I know, Ed!" Alphonse snapped, snatching his hand away and tucking it back into the blanket he was covered with. Ed flinched backwards, nearly falling off the bed in surprise.

"Al-?" He was cut off before he could protest.

"I know I can't bring him back, but dammit, when will I be better again?" Alphonse lamented, rubbing his eyes clean of tears, but smearing his cheeks with blood in the process. "I want to accept his sacrifice, but..."

"You don't have to draw freakin' circles on your hands to make yourself feel better, Al!" Ed said sternly, "What were you going to do? Kill yourself? See if you could miraculously call Mustang back from the Gate? Stuff just doesn't happen that way, Al! Equivalent Exchange!"

"Don't lecture me on Equivalent Exchange when you yourself tried the same thing when Mom died!" Alphonse screamed, sending Edward scrambling to the other side of the room in horror. A pregnant pause followed the short argument between them, broken only by the sound of Alphonse's shaky crying. Edward finally managed to let out a small, wounded sound before he sank to the floor.

"It wasn't the same, Al," Edward said, his voice rising, "You know it wasn't the same."

"I'm sorry," Alphonse hiccuped, "Brother, I'm sorry. I dunno w-what's come over me."

"It's okay," Ed exhaled, pushing him to his wobbly feet and returning to the bed once more. Shakily, he pulled Alphonse under his arm and held him. "You... You were just frustrated. Besides, it was true, what you said. But you don't have to kill yourself over it."

"Am I going crazy?" Alphonse asked, his voice muffled by Ed's shoulder.

Ed smiled faintly, "No, Al. If you're crazy, then I must be insane."

"Then I must be crazy," Alphonse said with a sniffle's worth of a laugh. Ed smiled a bit wider, then let it all fade.

"Promise me that you'll leave your hands alone. Mustang wouldn't have wanted you to hurt yourself after he sacrificed himself to bring you back whole." Ed sighed with relief as Alphonse nodded and sniffled one last time.

"M'sorry." Alphonse wrapped his arms around Ed in a hug of apology, but he backed off suddenly with a curious expression clashing with his damp eyes. "Ed, what's in your coat? Feels like paper." He pointed to Ed's sleeve.

"Oh. I was going to show you this before I walked in on you," Ed explained, wriggling the government envelope out of his coat and examining it again. "Should we open it now?"

"I'll do it," Alphonse said, taking the envelope and frowning when Ed promptly snatched it back. "What? Oh." His hands were still smeared with blood.

"We'll open it later," Ed promised, "Besides, I heard from Gracia that Havoc is supposed to-"

He was interrupted when the doorknocker was thumped from downstairs.

"-bring Fuery over to breakfast. He can't cook," Ed finished and tossed the envelope onto the bed unceremoniously. "Let's go eat, Al. You look like you need a few more pounds."

Alphonse gave a genuine smile and accepted the hand that helped him off of the bed. His pajamas drooped off his shoulders, and his bottoms dragged against the floor; he really did need more nutrition. Ed was almost taller than him.

The brothers thumped down the stairs ungracefully and made their way into the kitchen where Elysia had her plump arms latched around one of Gracia's legs. It was unlikely that the child remembered Havoc and Fuery from the few pictures the Hughes family had kept in their house.

"Hey, Elysia," Havoc said kindly, leaning over with his hands on his knees in an attempt to be less scary. "I was Daddy's friend. It's very nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Fuery echoed from behind the blonde man. As Ed walked with Alphonse over to the table, he noticed how badly the black-haired technician was faring. He looked thin and tired, and his face no longer had the babyish look to it that defined him in general. Before the Colonel's death, it wasn't unusual for the men at HQ to refer to Fuery as 'kid' or 'that baby-faced one over there'. Now, he was just... Fuery.

"It's nice to see you two again," Gracia said from the kitchen doorway with a warm smile as she slid a pan of eggs onto a platter. "You all should sit down. I'm almost done," she announced, setting the steaming platter onto the dining table. With a small grunt of effort, she scooped Elysia up and settled her into a chair at Ed's side, in-between him and Alphonse.

"Are you two doing okay, nowadays?" Havoc asked the brothers conversationally as he watched Gracia flutter around the kitchen. Edward and Alphonse exchanged a mental conversation of their own for a moment before they both dropped their gazes to the table.

"Yeah. We're okay," Edward said flatly, "Alphonse is gaining a lot of his weight back." He was grateful for the distraction Elysia provided as her chin lolled against her chest in sleepiness. With a small smirk, he arranged the child's arms so that she was resting them on the table, providing a more comfortable pillow for her cheek. Sluggishly, her eyes closed, and she was asleep again.

"How about you two?" Alphonse asked, crossing his legs on the chair.

"Ahh..." Havoc waved his hand in a dismissing manner, "It's winter. Everybody loses weight in winter, right?" He grinned with what Edward supposed was a hint of feigned humor.

"I thought you lose weight in the summer," Alphonse mumbled, half to himself.

To Havoc's surprise, Fuery cracked the tiniest of smiles at Al's correction, but he quickly hid it in a loud cough directed to the crook of his elbow. For a few moments, the only noise at the table was the alarming sound of Fuery's coughing, and then it went uncomfortably silent.

"So, when is Falman returning from the North?" Gracia said as she stepped into the room carrying platters of both toast and ham. Havoc flushed with relief at the start of a new conversation.

"In about half a year," he replied, nodding gratefully at the stack of plates he was handed. While passing the plates around, he kept a wary eye on Fuery. The young man was fiddling with the tablecloth and licking his raw lips, looking fairly uncomfortable. "You'll be glad when he's back, won't you, Fuery?" Havoc said cheerfully, arranging the Sergeant's plate for him. Fuery nodded obediently and leaned back in his chair as if trying to avoid the food.

"Aren't you hungry, Kain?" Gracia asked, taking her own place at the table.

"Erm... yeah. I'm just feeling a little sick," Fuery admitted blankly. Edward raised an eyebrow as he sipped at a glass of orange juice.

"Stomachache?" Ed guessed half-correctly. Fuery nodded, and Havoc opened his mouth to stop him from replying, but it was too late.

"I drank a little more than I should have, I'm afraid," Fuery said sheepishly, rubbing his hand over his stomach unconsciously.

"You let him drink?" Alphonse said incredulously to Havoc. "But Mr. Fuery never drinks."

It was true. Fuery was one of the 'designated drivers' at Christmas parties and was the one who drank flavored water at New Years' get-togethers. Mostly everyone in the military believed that he had some sort of low tolerance for alcohol. It turned out that he did; Havoc simply found out about it in an unwelcome way.

"Like I told Breda, he drank the Scotch himself. It's not like I could stop him from-"

"Scotch?" Edward nearly spat the juice in his mouth back into his glass. "Only Mustang could tolerate that stuff!"

"That's what Breda said!" Havoc threw his hands into the air.

"How much did you drink?" Alphonse asked Fuery curiously through a small mouthful of ham.

"I dunno," the black-haired man said timidly.

"A lot, I bet. You're so irresponsible, Havoc," Edward grumbled.

"Is everyone against me today?"

"Did you pay your water bill? Don't tell me Fuery hasn't showered yet," the younger blonde said with a wrinkled nose.

"We stopped... by... Hawkeye's," Havoc managed to grit out between his teeth before returning his tense attention to his plate. Gracia had been eating patiently and quietly the entire time as if they whole spat between Havoc and the brothers was nothing more than a normal family argument at Thanksgiving.

"Maybe Hawkeye should've taken care of you," Alphonse said to Fuery with a sidelong glance. Havoc looked at the brown-haired youth witheringly.

"Tell me this, kid. Would you rather Fuery not eat at all and have a choice to do that, or would you like him to have a gun at his head during every meal?"

Alphonse and Edward looked at each other, then at Fuery. Fuery was staring down at his plate with a full fork but an empty mouth. He looked exhausted.

"The gun," the brothers said at the same time, causing Fuery to crack a small smile again and Gracia to giggle over a mouthful of eggs. Havoc rolled his eyes and wiped his mouth with a napkin before standing up.

"I need a cigarette," he explained as he left the room with a lighter already in hand. Edward and Alphonse couldn't resist laughing softly.

As Edward and Alphonse finished, they helped carry their plates into the kitchen. Edward raised an eyebrow in Fuery's direction when he found that the young man's plate was still completely full. Gracia noticed his stare.

"Oh, it's not a problem for me, Edward. I just wanted to make sure you guys had enough to eat," Gracia said cheerfully as she began scraping the remains on the dishes into the garbage can. She began to reach for Fuery's plate, but Edward stopped her gently.

"Gimme a sec," he said quickly and took the plate from her. Determinedly, he made his way over to the table where Elysia was still slumped over in her chair and Fuery was toying with the tablecloth again. With a silent order, he slid the plate in front of the Sergeant, then set his hands on his hips.

"Eat three bites. Now," he said calmly and without any force in his voice. Fuery looked up at him with a pleading frown, then down at the plate. "Why won't you eat? C'mon, Fuery, you're going to get sick." Fuery remained in his childish pout before he answered Edward slowly.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Ed asked promptly with perhaps a little too much force. Alphonse set a hand on his shoulder to stop his most likely hurtful comment.

"I can't eat anything. The back of my mouth hurts," Fuery complained, pushing his plate away. Gracia swooped in and took the plate away in an instant.

"Well, he obviously doesn't want any food right now. I'll just make him something to take with him when he leaves," she explained with the fiery intent that Edward knew was an air of finality.

Fuery relaxed deeply, as if he were a child who'd just escaped having to eat his vegetables. Edward had never seen him like this. In fact, Fuery usually ate most of the desserts and treats that they had at parties in the military. He was either fixing the fuse box, tampering with the light system, or eating. To see him actually relieved at the thought of not eating-

"I didn't want to eat either," Alphonse stated matter-of-factly to the Sergeant, startling Edward out of his thoughts. "My mouth hurts too."

"Really? Where?" Edward said immediately, taking Alphonse by the chin and prying his mouth open. Alphonse gave a muffled protest due to the saliva that began collecting in the bottom of his mouth. "No way. Al?" Edward let Alphonse go quickly, looking at him incredulously. "Your wisdom teeth, Mom had them removed early when you were eight, didn't she?"

"Um-hm," Alphonse nodded, sticking his tongue in the back of his mouth to check all of his teeth. There were four extra. Two on either side of of his mouth. Wisdom teeth. "Mom had those pulled out. That hurt."

"Maybe the Gate gave you everything back." Edward said, tapping his finger against his chin, then waving it off as if it were nothing. He had his brother back, so what would a few extra teeth matter?

"The point is, Mister Fuery," Alphonse began, "You have to try eating again, even though your mouth hurts. We couldn't stand it if you got sick. Especially after Mustang."

Fuery stiffened greatly as if he'd been shocked. Then, he stood up unnaturally roughly from the table and stomped out of the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alphonse said to no one, now that Fuery had left. Edward set a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed.

"Everyone is still hurting," the elder brother said quietly, then looked over at the front door when he saw Havoc with a lit cigarette in his mouth, reaching for his jacket on the coat rack. Havoc gave him a look that said 'Don't ask', and then his eyes searched for Fuery. Ed jerked his chin in the direction that Fuery had left, and Havoc stared at him questioningly. In return, Ed shrugged as if to say 'Hell, it wasn't my fault'.

"Will one of you say something?" Alphonse complained.

"He didn't say anything first!" Edward protested with a wave of his arm in Havoc's direction, but the blonde man had already gone off to fetch Fuery.

xxxxx

"You guys take care of yourselves, got it?" Edward said with his arms folded over his chest as he watched Fuery slide his coat on over his frail shoulders. Havoc was holding a pot of soup in a paper bag under his arm, courtesy of Gracia.

"You don't have to worry about us. You two should be more concerned about yourselves, especially with the court case coming up next week," Havoc said, balancing the pot of soup on his hip so that he could arrange Fuery's scarf around his neck properly. Edward and Alphonse looked at each other.

"Court case?" Alphonse asked.

"Read the envelope you should have gotten this morning. Me 'n Fuery both got one right before we left this morning. I bet you guys got one too," Havoc said as he started down the front steps of the house. Fuery followed him sulkily with his head lowered.

"Envelope," Edward sighed. "Right. Let's go, Al." He set a hand on his younger brother's head and guided him back upstairs. They had some reading to do.

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