welcome back! In this chapter, the rockbells and elrics make their final preparations for automail surgery. This is about as humorous as it's gonna get for quite a while *evil laugh*. I guess you could say this is the calm before the storm.
Enjoy!
(Update 12/23/22: edited chapter with improvements)
(Update 8/9/23: mass update!)
(Update 9/26/24: mass update!)
Ch 12: Give and Take
A week before Edward's scheduled surgery date, Pinako begins serious work on preparations.
Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters is one of the most respected practices in Eastern Amestris. Apart from Rush Valley in the south, automail workshops are relatively sparse, with only a handful in each region. Pinako has worked from the ground up to build upon her family's business, and every bit of notoriety she has is a result of her effort. Her clients choose her because of her care, not convenience, and she's made a name for herself in pioneering automail technologies usually only seen in Rush Valley.
One of her proudest investments is an x-ray machine sequestered in the corner of the house, in a little closet off to the side of Surgical. It's rare for mechanics to have their own imaging machinery, and even rarer for it to be of such a high quality. Resembool's rural location makes it a rather inconvenient choice for people seeking an automail technician, but Pinako has brought more and more customers to her practice through her combination of highly involved care and top notch equipment. Having her own x-ray machine eliminates the need for patients to travel to East City for radiology, and keeps their mechanic even more involved in the often traumatizing field of prosthetics.
For Edward, though, he's just fascinated by the idea of being able to see inside himself.
Pinako has been explaining her procedure for half an hour now. Normally, it takes five minutes, but Ed just won't stop asking questions. But how does it see into people? It's outside the visible spectrum! And how does it picture bones so clearly without getting anything else in the photo? Is it the composition of our bones, or the composition of the rest of our body? I once read about how they can find more than just broken bones, but signs of illness, too. How does that work? How does it take radiation from outside of our field of vision and turn it into something we can see?
She admires his curiosity, but is getting tired of explaining concepts she barely understands herself. It works because it just does, Edward.
Finally, she gets him satisfied enough to lay still on the table. She takes various close up images of both his right shoulder and left leg from anterior and posterior angles, then some more general shots of his whole chest. The moment she finishes, Ed is asking to see the pictures.
"They still have to develop, silly boy." Pinako pokes his nose. "Go play with Winry and Al for a while, and I'll show you later." Begrudgingly, Ed does as told. But the second she says the photos are finished, he drops the game they were playing like it's hot.
Back in the x-ray room, Ed stares at the prints in front of him. "Those are really my bones?" he asks, fascinated.
"Who else did I take pictures of?" Pinako chuckles.
"What are they?"
Pinako takes his hand, moving his fingers to touch his right collarbone. She points to the corresponding white line on the x-ray. "That one is your clavicle." She moves his hand to the tip of his shoulder, then her finger to a different point in the photo. "And at the end here is your acromion." She moves his hand again, to the back of his shoulder. "And that's your scapula." Next, she points at the image of his whole chest, and the bone present in his left shoulder but missing from his right. "That's called the humerus, and it goes into the glenoid cavity, which is this ball looking joint here."
He continues feeling around the places she mentioned, picturing the bones underneath. "So all I'm missing is the...hu-mer-us?"
"Right. But I needed the pictures so I can plan where your automail is going."
"Isn't it obvious?"
She smiles a little. He may be extremely intelligent, but he's just as naïve. "It might look like it, but there's a lot of work that goes into making sure the metal stays safely on and inside the body."
"What about my leg? The bone's not missing, it's just kinda…cut off." He looks inquisitively at the printout of his left leg.
"Just because you still have most of your femur where it belongs doesn't mean it needs less planning. You'll be relying on it and your hip to support a lot of weight in metal."
"Oh." Ed continues looking thoughtfully at the x-rays. "Can I do more x-rays later? And see the rest of my bones?"
Pinako internally cringes at the thought of how much that would cost her. "We'll see."
Ed grins, returning happily back to the other children.
...
Five days before surgery, Pinako begins having serious second thoughts.
They aren't born of worry for his health; he's grown more than strong enough for the operation over the past month. No, it's everything else that's bothering her.
Automail is brutal; there's no other way to describe it. To mess so intimately with the nervous system is more than a little scary. There's a one in ten chance the body will reject a machine being shoved into it, and the constant care and maintenance required if the body accepts it is exhausting. And that's not even mentioning the excruciating pain of surgery, and all the adjustments and re-docking bound to take place over the years. When given the option, many people would rather use ordinary prosthetics than take a chance with automail and all the pain it entails in case it doesn't work anyway.
Because of this, child automail is a bit of a taboo in the field. Children aren't even allowed to undergo the operation without parental consent until the age of sixteen. Pinako will be taking the biggest risk of her career with Edward. She's not his parent—not even his legal guardian like with Winry. And she'll be outfitting both a leg and an arm...If his body were to reject it, she could kiss her practice goodbye, without a doubt. And even if his body accepts it, there will certainly still be losses to her business, because some people are going to look down on the decision no matter what.
But at the same time, she can't back out now. Not when he's worked so hard to get here. He's pulled himself from the depths of despair for this, and a chance to help his little brother. But at the same time, he's her grandson in all but blood, and she doesn't want to hurt him. So, that's the heart of the dilemma, isn't it? She can either hurt him emotionally and risk him never recovering, or she can hurt him physically and risk him never recovering. Neither option is good. But if she has to choose, she might as well go with the one she's trained to do.
Her schematics are looking good. She's trying something new with Edward, something she hasn't done on another patient: she's going to reduce the size of the port infrastructure.
Due to the nature of attaching metal to the body, arm outfittees often find their movement restricted because of the port. Having solid, immobile metal pieces stuck inside your chest is going to make it more difficult to twist and turn, and can even restrict torso movement altogether. So, Pinako has worked out a way to lessen the amount of skin she has to cover and still keep the infrastructure strong enough to handle the weight of a future prosthetic. He's a child, after all, and she wants him to be able to move as much as possible, without a bulky metal shell holding him back.
What she's ended up with is going to be revolutionary to the world of automail if it works. (When it works. Because it definitely isn't going to fail. She can't let it.) The internal structure is basically the same as a typical port (just adjusted for the size of the person it's going in), though she did manage to remove two of the less crucial supports by strengthening one of the important ones. However, the removable outer layer is where she's made a lot of changes. The shell that protects the port and all of its internal supports usually ends up covering most of the outfittee's torso on the side of their missing limb. But for Ed, Pinako has managed to reduce it to extend just below his pectoral muscle and reach only half the width to his spine, without sacrificing any of its purpose as a shield and counterweight. Honestly, it's a work of genius.
If it succeeds.
...Maybe she's a little more worried about his health than she thought.
Later that day, Pinako shows Edward her plans.
"Looks kinda harsh," he says after examining the drawings.
"I ain't gonna lie to you. It is," she replies.
"You actually have to put all those rods and bolts in me?" he asks, pointing at the labeled pieces. He looks a little skeptical, and honestly, she can't blame him. This would be intimidating even if he weren't a child.
"It's the only way the automail will stay on you. You need a lot of internal support for the metal, because of how heavy it is."
"How come there's six in my shoulder and only three in my leg?"
"Because I have some limb to work with for your leg. I have to attach your arm to your shoulder, and your shoulder is attached to the rest of your torso." He looks perplexed. "Lay down for a second." He does, and she puts her fingers on his collarbone. "I'll put one here—" she moves her hand to one of his ribs. "—and one here. Turn over." She touches the same rib as before. "And one more on the back—" she moves one last time to his shoulder blade, then to his acromion. "—and the last ones here." Ed sits back up, his perplexed expression deepening. "Something wrong?"
"No...I just didn't realize how much it takes to have automail."
"Well...if you're not ready, we can wait, Sprout."
His eyes shine with consideration for a moment, before darkness quickly clouds his features. "No. We have to do it now."
"Even if the rehabilitation is just as brutal as the surgery?"
He nods once, eyes narrowed.
"Alright then."
Ed goes back to playing with the other kids, and Pinako stares at her schematics again. Part of her really wishes he would have changed his mind. It's selfish, considering the reasons for his decision, but she just doesn't want to do this to her own family. It almost feels like it did when they first showed up on her doorstep, half-dead and covered in blood.
She'd never wanted to feel that way again.
…
One day before surgery, there begins a strange tension between everyone in the house.
Winry and Alphonse have been glued to Ed's side all day. He's on wheelchair mobility only today, because Pinako can't do surgery with the irritation and swelling his prosthetic leg causes after walking. Now she can tell that with his lack of independence, having the other children watching him like hawks is really beginning to get on his nerves.
"Are you ready for tomorrow, Brother?" Al asks. Just like he did an hour ago.
"If you keep asking, I'm going to second guess everything," Ed replies. Just like he did.
An hour ago.
But still, Al won't let it go.
For a while, they seem to ease some of their tension and play cards in relative peace. But even while playing, Pinako can't help but notice the repressed anxiety in each child. Alphonse is always creaking and clanking, but it's near constant now as he nervously fiddles with the apron he'd tied around the armor's waist. Winry is always defensive and loudmouthed around the boys, but she seems particularly so today. And Edward...Pinako watches him tap his fingers and foot restlessly all throughout the game, eyes wandering and mind clearly miles away.
When dinner rolls around, Pinako suggests Ed and Al read or do some other activity while she and Winry eat.
"Why can't I have dinner?" Ed pouts.
"You can't have anything in your stomach during surgery. You're already going to be throwing up, and having food will make it worse," she answers.
Ed glares at her. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"You can survive just fine without food for a day, Ed," she intones, as deadpan as ever.
He scoffs. "If I knew you were gonna starve me today, I'd have eaten more last night…"
"That's exactly why I didn't tell you."
Ed scowls, asking Al to take him to the living room.
Once situated, he opens the book he'd been reading, but ends up thinking about surgery instead. He's not going to admit it out loud, but he is nervous. He knows he has to do it, and his mind is entirely made up; there's no chance of him backing out. But something Granny told him last night made him uneasy. He'd asked if there was any chance he wouldn't be able to control his automail when he got it, and she gave a straight answer.
"I won't lie to you, Ed. It's always about a ten percent possibility."
What if he goes through all this, but it doesn't even matter because he can't handle it and he ends up crippling himself worse than he already has? How will he help Alphonse then?
Den comes trotting into the room a moment later, snapping Ed out of his thoughts. For a while, she was wary of Ed and Al, but now, she doesn't bat an eye at the armor or missing limbs. She knows they're the same people she's always gotten belly rubs and head scratches from, even if they look different.
Den stands on her back legs and sets her front ones in his lap, a big doggy grin on her face. Ed scratches behind her ears, finding his eyes being drawn to her automail leg. He remembers the day she lost it, when she wasn't even a year old. She got out of the house without the Rockbells noticing, and wandered over to a neighboring farm. The man who lives there found her that evening when he went to feed his sheep, tangled in his barbed wire fencing. She'd entirely sliced up her front left leg, and it got infected to the point where she was so sick the only option was to cut it off or let her die. Winry wouldn't stop crying when they amputated it, and begged Granny to make Den a new leg for months. Animal automail is practically unheard of, but Granny enlisted a veterinarian to help with the anatomy and give Den four legs again.
Ed watches her movements closely, listening to each click of gears and pistons as she paws at his leg. If the dog can make it through automail surgery just fine, so can he.
He hopes.
Twenty minutes later, Winry joins the Elrics in the living room, munching on a piece of bread.
"Hey, Winry, can I have some of that?" Ed asks.
"You heard what Grandma said," she scolds.
"Please? Just one bite…"
"No."
"Come on, I'm hungry…"
Winry looks at Ed, silently cursing his persuasive abilities. He's giving her such a pitiful look she almost gives in before the medical side of her steps up. "Just go to sleep early. Then you won't feel hungry."
Ed pouts, angry his tactics didn't break her. "Maybe I will. It'd be better than staying here with you."
"Now, Brother, calm down…" Al says.
Winry rolls her eyes. "Wittle Eddie's so weak he can't go an hour without food."
"You know I hate that nickn—WAIT, DID YOU JUST CALL ME LITTLE?!"
"Yes! Because you're over here trying to guilt me into giving you food!"
"Well, excuse me for wanting to stay alive!"
"You're not going to die not eating for one day, Ed," Al interjects. "And you know how he feels about his height, Winry."
"YOU'RE CALLING ME SHORT TOO? BETRAYED BY MY OWN BROTHER!"
"I didn't even say that!" Al yells.
Suddenly, Pinako's voice cuts in from the kitchen. "So help me, if you three don't stop fighting, I'm canceling everything!" she roars.
All three kids instantly fall silent, heads whipping to the floor in an attempt to avoid Granny's deadly glare.
And the tension only continues to grow.
…
That night, laying in bed, Edward finds himself thinking about everything again. He's been staring at the ceiling for hours now, listening to the clock ticking in the corner, and silently hoping Alphonse will notice he's awake. It takes a while, but finally, he hears Al shift.
"Brother? Are you awake?"
Ed nods.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"
He nods again. Somehow even the cover of night can't quite give him enough protection to voice his worries aloud.
"I understand, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. Granny and Winry do this for a living."
"So she didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That there's a chance it won't work."
Al stays quiet for a moment. "I still don't think you need to worry. If it doesn't work, you can just keep using the leg you already have, right?"
"I guess." But then I can't help you get your body back. I need automail if I'm going to be a State Alchemist.
"See? You'll be okay. I know it." He doesn't know it.
Ed doesn't reply for a couple minutes, thinking over their conversation. "...Are you nervous, Al?"
The armor sighs. "...A little. Even before you told me about the chance of it not working, I was a little worried. Automail sounds like a lot of work...I know it's going to be tough on you."
"Don't worry about me," Ed says. "I can handle it."
Al hesitates. "...But you don't have to." He shifts uncomfortably. "I know you're only doing it for me. You don't have to."
"I made up my mind, Alphonse."
"I know. Just...I don't want you to think I need you to suffer any more for me than you already have."
Ed nods, but keeps his thoughts to himself. He turns over, letting the weariness of his body finally overpower the activity of his mind and bring him to sleep.
If only you knew, Al...My suffering is nothing compared to yours.
fun fact: x-rays were invented in 1895 and widespread within 2 years of their discovery, with little to no restriction on usage...at least until all the radiation poisoning...*shudders*