Did you guys know it's been since jan 10, 2023 since this story has seen official progression? I absolutely cannot believe it's been so long, and while I've waited longer for updates myself, I cannot BELIEVE I was one of the people to do it to my own audience. The writer's block hit, and hit so hard that I could reread this entire story, be super invested in continuing it, and then get to the point where it left off and just be so overwhelmed I'd close it and say "i'll look again later". I did that SO many times, it's infuriating. And here's the truth: I'm STILL struggling with the next chapter.

*inspirational music starts* But, no matter how serious the mental block has been, I know I'll never give up on it. I will FORCE MYSELF to write at least one sentence every time I look at chapter 21, and I know that, because this story means so much to me, it WILL find inspiration again. Like I've said before, I have so many ideas for its future- I just can't seem to get past this one sticking point.

But it's been long enough. This chapter (20) has been finished since september of 2023, and I can't justify holding on to it any longer. It's time for Simple Things to finally continue, even if I don't have a backup chapter anymore.

So, here it is: in this chapter, we've got talks of traditions, new automail, rebellious actions, power outages... and a super long, in depth exploration of Pinako's backstory.

I hope you all enjoy (and forgive me for the wait). This is the longest chapter of the whole thing- somehow even longer than ch 13. Maybe that will help make up for it

Ch 20: The Definition of Family

"Hey, Ed, what do you wanna do for Solstice this year?"

Edward startles from his book (Advanced Alchemic Theory Vol 2, nothing special), looking up to see Winry standing in front of him, wearing a fluffy white sweater and slippers—and a questioning expression.

Ed blinks; it is getting close to Solstice, isn't it? He's been so focused on making his automail work, he forgot about the holiday. Normally, the Elrics and Rockbells spend the day making cookies and, if there's snow, snowmen. Then they put together a big, elaborate dinner with everyone in charge of their own dishes. Granny is always on the main course, Alphonse on drinks, Winry on dessert, and Edward on sides. It's fun, even if Ed does always try to dispose of all the milk in the house before it can be used in the food (who cares if the recipe calls for it, it's sheer evil to add that monstrous liquid to anything!) but is foiled every time (and forced to admit that the food is delicious, even while containing the forbidden cow juice). And lastly, they exchange gifts before bed, the givers always just as excited as the recipients.

Of course, this year, they have no prepared gifts to exchange, and one of them can no longer enjoy cookies or stuffing or roast beef. "I'm not sure," Ed replies, voice melancholy. "Our usual stuff probably won't work, will it?"

"Yeah…" Winry sighs sadly. "But Al asked me what we were doing, and I didn't know what to say, so I thought I'd ask you."

Ed thinks for a moment. "We could still get gifts."

Winry frowns slightly. "I don't think Grandma wants you walking to town yet."

Ed returns her frown. "Why not? I'm fine! Besides," he adds, "if she's making me do chores again, then I handle a short trip."

"The market is a couple miles away, Edward. That's not 'a short trip'. Plus Al still doesn't like seeing people all the time. We can just wing it for gifts…"

Ed shrugs, slightly perturbed by his barring from trips. "Then I don't know. Just ask Granny or make Al pick something to do." He stands, heading toward the kitchen for a snack. Along the way, he peeks at the calendar hanging on the wall. December 9. Only twelve days to Solstice. Ed finds a container of saltines in the cupboard and plucks it out, munching thoughtfully on the crackers.

He's never been the biggest holiday guy; Alphonse and Winry are way more festive than he is. In fact, the only reason he enjoys holidays at all is because of them (it's hard not to enjoy yourself when everyone around you is so cheerful, after all). He thinks the traditions are a little silly, but he can't deny he likes receiving gifts and eating fancy suppers.

…Mom loved holidays, too.

Ed's shoulders slump slightly with the memory of his mother. Her last Solstice with them was only a couple months before Hohenheim left, and about nine months before she died. He was four, almost five, and doesn't remember a whole lot, but he does remember how happy she was. She decorated the door with holly and taught him and Al how to make paper snowflakes. It was really warm that year, and they didn't have any snow all winter, so they hung the snowflakes around the house to make it feel more festive. That was the first year they decided to celebrate with the Rockbells, so Granny and Winry and Auntie and Uncle Rockbell were there, too. And after Mom died, Al insisted they keep celebrating the holiday, because it was what she would have wanted.

Ed sighs, staring wistfully at the wall while he turns a cracker between his fingers. What could there possibly be to celebrate this year? Four months ago, Ed had been planning on spending Solstice with his mother. Now, he barely even has Alphonse. How can he celebrate joy and togetherness when his family is so broken—by his own hands, no less?

Maybe he should just skip the date altogether…

Ed puts away the container of saltines, swiftly walking back to the living room. He's gotten good at that in the past week—so good that Granny said he'll be ready to move on to his next leg in a couple days. Most of the time, he can get the automail to do what he wants when he wants to do it, and hardly ever trips anymore. Sometimes, usually right after he wakes up or right before he goes to bed, it will lock up on him, but Granny told him this is normal too. A lot of people find it difficult to use automail first thing in the morning because their body is still waking up, and the same goes for being drowsy before bed. That's why, as Winry keeps stressing, it's so important to do stretches in the morning; it helps get his mechanical body working just as much as it gets the blood flowing in his real body. Ed doesn't like the nagging comments and makes his annoyance known every time she repeats them, but it does help. He's just not going to admit to either Rockbell that it's become routine to set aside ten minutes each morning to follow their advice (and he's made Al promise not to tell them either, on the threat of hiding his head where he'll never find it again).

…Speaking of Al, Ed wonders if Winry has asked him more about Solstice yet.

Edward makes his way to the staircase, peering up to the second floor. Granny has yet to allow him upstairs, after the incident wherein he missed a step and fell down the porch stairs (Five stairs alone can break your neck, so thirteen stairs are out of the question until your balance is up to my standards, boy), but she's not here right now. A mischievous grin spreads across Ed's face. He can hear Winry and Al's voices up in Winry's room, and he wants to join in that conversation, no matter what Pinako says. He's sick of relaying messages between floors.

He grabs the handrail, starting up the steps slowly and carefully. His method is much more akin to a toddler's, getting both feet on each stair before moving to the next one, but the spark of rebellion in his heart is more than enough to make up for the weak stair-climbing. Thirteen steps later, he crosses the hallway to Winry's room, sticking his head in the doorway for the first time in nearly five months.

"What'chu guys talking about?" he announces loudly, gaining the attention of both kids inside.

Winry's head snaps to the door, surprised and confused to hear Ed's voice so close. "Edward!" she exclaims. "What are you doing here?"

Ed puts his hand to his hip and pouts (he's tried crossing his arms but immediately realized it looked ridiculous with only one, adopting the hand-to-hip motion for conveying displeasure instead). "I was tired of playing telephone."

Winry gives a disapproving look, clearly saying this excuse doesn't appease her. "You know what Grandma said about stairs."

"I know," he replies, on a roll, "and I decided I didn't care."

With Winry and Ed still staring each other down, Alphonse suddenly bursts out laughing. The other two break their glare to look at him. The ten-year-old quiets and tilts his head sheepishly, no doubt internally blushing. "Sorry, I just haven't heard Ed talk like that in a long time."

Ed blinks; has he really been acting so different since That Night? Is he only just now getting his old personality back? His pout intensifies; how has he let himself be a pushover for so long?

Al laughs again, nervously this time. "I didn't mean it like that, Brother," he says, sensing Ed's thoughts. "You're the same as you've always been. I think you were just a little busy with other things lately…"

"Well I can't say I missed your rebellious nature," Winry cuts in. "But if you're already up here, you might as well stay." She crosses her arms and turns up her nose, hmphing in an attempt to hide the fact that she wants him here too. "We were just talking about Solstice."

Ed grins, fully entering the room and sitting on the floor by his friend and brother.

"Winry told me you had no ideas," Al says to Ed.

"Well, I had ideas—Winry just didn't approve of them," he replies.

"Protocol doesn't approve," she clarifies. "So I was just telling Al to pick out an activity." Both Winry and Edward look at the armor expectantly.

Al shifts slightly. "Honestly?" he starts, "I don't want to change anything."

Ed is stunned silent for a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah. We have traditions, so why change them?" The ten-year-old shrugs.

There are plenty of reasons...Ed thinks. You can't even participate in half our traditions..."But...you know!" He gestures vaguely, hoping he won't have to spell it out. You won't have any fun!

Al sighs, shaking his head like a wise old sage. "I know what you're thinking, Brother. But I think I'll still have plenty of fun making cookies and helping with dinner and drinks...it was never really about eating the food. It was always about spending time with my family."

Ed just sits in contemplative silence, not even daring to speak because when the hell did his little brother get so mature? Ed suddenly feels supremely childish for only thinking about the material aspects of the holiday. He focuses on Al, searching his glowing eyes for any sign of deceit; he finds none. "Okay then. If you're going to be the bigger man here, then I have no objections. We'll celebrate like we always do..." Winry glares at him. "Minus the trip to town," he adds quickly.

Winry grins, pulling the two boys close and giving them an awkward half-hug, one arm around Ed's shoulders and the other around Al's metal bicep. "Great! I'll tell Grandma when she gets back." Her arms loosen. "Speaking of which, you should probably get back downstairs before then. I might be willing to break some rules, but I don't know about her," she says in Ed's direction.

He wrests himself out of her grasp. "What? No fair! I haven't been up here in so long!"

"And you'll never come up here again if she finds out," Winry reasons.

"No! You can't make me!" Ed grabs a fistful of Winry's fluffy rug as if that alone can anchor him to the room.

Winry rolls her eyes. "A little help, Al?"

Ed pouts and Al laughs, reaching over to collect his stubborn brother. Distracted, Ed notices the incoming metal arms too late, and before he knows it, he's been scooped into the steel embrace.

"Alphonse! What did I tell you about picking me up!" Ed tries wrestling out of the hold, but his strength is no match for Al's. "It's not fair! Let go!"

"Come on, Brother, let's go downstairs," Al teases, starting toward the staircase. Then, the front door opens and shuts.

All three kids freeze, their eyes meeting in panic.

Pinako steps in front of the staircase, where Ed is on full display in Al's arms.

Complete silence descends upon the household.

"Edward…" Pinako begins, her voice a forced calm. "There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. I expect the floor in there to be so clean I can see my reflection."

And Edward spends the rest of the day with a bucket of water and the aforementioned toothbrush, scrubbing the floor until his hand feels like it's about to fall off.

…

One of the universal factors of childhood comes in the form of waiting. It's an experience familiar to every child on the planet, no matter who or where they are. Waiting for your parents to stop talking to other parents at the store. Waiting for your friends to come over when they promised they'd be there at noon. Waiting for dinner or dessert or snack time.

As children, the Elrics are very familiar with the feeling of waiting. But lately, they've had to learn to wait for more than just the typical things kids wait for, brought on by an unfortunate set of circumstances. Now, they're left waiting on things no children in their wildest dreams would imagine.

In a testament to this, at the moment, Alphonse is waiting for his brother to regain consciousness after having his next stage of automail attached.

Despite Al's hopes, knowing what to expect during the connection had little effect on either Elric. Edward reacted exactly the same as before, and Alphonse still felt extremely disturbed and saddened by said reaction. But now, he's back on monitoring duty and has to keep an eye on his brother over the next hour or so, so he has no choice but to push aside his own feelings.

He gives the eleven-year-old another look-over. Ed is asleep, face slightly flushed with low-grade fever, but nothing looks concerning. Like before, his head is resting against a pillow, and his leg port is elevated. His new leg has a lot more wires than the previous one, because both its knee and ankle are mechanical. The main support rod is still akin to a pole with the loose wires tied to it to keep them from getting caught on anything and tearing out. The wires feed into the small motor at the ankle, and then the static foot below it resembles the previous two. At the sound of a small grunt, Al looks back at Ed's face, twisted with the first signs of consciousness. His eyes flutter open for a moment, but just as quickly as it all appeared, the expression fades, and Ed relaxes again.

And Al continues waiting.

Ten minutes later, Winry comes down the stairs, poking her head into the living room. "He's still out?" she asks, and Al nods. "I guess it makes sense it was harder on him this time, considering we had to connect all of his nerves." She sighs, sitting on the couch by Ed's feet. For a minute, she studies the older boy, before her attention shifts to the younger. "How're you doing, Al?"

"Huh? Oh, I—I'm fine," Al says, taken aback. "It's him I'm worried about."

Winry smiles slightly. "I swear, you two are exactly the same...you only ever worry about each other, never yourselves." The smile fades. "It's okay not to be okay, Alphonse."

"Is it?" Al asks. "I don't even know why I'm so down. There's no reason to be; everything is going fine. I'm not worried about Brother's automail or military career anymore, and yet, there's just this sense of worry, and I don't even know where it's coming from…"

Winry's fond smile returns. "Honestly, Al, after everything that's happened, I think it would be more weird if you weren't worried. It's just how our minds respond to repeated stressors; it makes it impossible to relax because it's always expecting the worst—even when you know it's going to be okay in the end." She laughs a little, blush creeping across her face. "But in less medical terms...I think it's just called being a good brother. When you care about someone, you'll always be concerned for them." Her expression sobers and she sets her head in her hand. "After Mom and Dad died, I remember Grandma being super protective of me for a while. The war was over and we were safe, but she barely ever left my side. I didn't know why, and I got annoyed and yelled at her. And you know what she said? 'Go ahead and be mad, it won't stop me from looking out for you.' And then I realized she was only doing it because she cares about me." Winry's gaze floats between the two Elrics. "She did the same thing with you guys, too. Even if Ed always seemed to think she was just being mean."

Al's tension eases a little, thinking back on their time growing up at the Rockbells'. A vivid memory flashes through his mind. He was about six, and Edward seven. They were playing in the river, even though it had rained really heavily the day before and Granny told them to stay away because the current was strong. As they were swimming, a mass of debris washed down the river and swept Al away with it. He briefly remembered Ed screaming his name, but he swallowed too much water and blacked out. The next thing he remembered was waking up on the riverbank, with Granny kneeling over him and Ed standing off to the side, both of their faces terrified. As soon as she was sure they were okay, Granny launched into a furious rant over how reckless they'd been. Ed had yelled right back at her, and to this day feels bitter at the way Granny had reacted. But Al always understood she was never truly mad; she was scared, and lashed out because she cared.

Maybe Winry is right. Instead of getting angry or clingy like Granny, maybe his form of caring manifests as worry.

Forty-five minutes later, Ed surfaces from unconsciousness again, and this time, stays awake. Still exhausted and in pain, he can't bring himself to complain when Granny suggests he eat dinner on the couch. And she doesn't comment when, not even halfway through, he says he feels sick and can't eat anymore; she just takes his plate to the icebox to save for later. When she comes back to the living room, he's laying back down, eyes closed and expression slightly uncomfortable.

"Edward," she begins, "I'm making an executive decision. Since you've had such a rough day, I won't make you do any therapy tonight." She expects him to be relieved with this, but instead, he surprises her.

His eyes snap open, narrowing slightly. "No. I can do it."

"You don't have to be so tough, Sprout, it's okay to take the night off."

"I'm not 'being tough.' I'm doing what I have to do." He gains a look of determination. "Unless I absolutely cannot do therapy tonight, I am going to try."

Pinako and Winry exchange glances. Unlike when he was pushing his body to ruin, there's nothing technically wrong with letting him work today. He's been good with testing his limits, but not over-exceeding them. Pinako was simply being kind by offering a break; there's no medical reason he can't try walking. "...Alright, then. If you're positive."

He nods, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the couch, only for a look of absolute confusion to cross his face. "W-what the hell?" The confusion morphs into panic. "Granny? I can't move my knee anymore...what—what happened?"

"It's alright, don't panic," she says quickly. "This is normal—but I should've warned you. We just attached an entirely new leg to your nerves, so it'll take a little bit for them to relearn how to communicate. Probably only an hour or so, Sprout."

He relaxes slightly, but his eyes remain wide. "Is this going to happen every time?"

"Most likely, even after you have your complete leg. But the longer you have your automail, the faster you'll be able to pick it back up when it's reconnected. Within seconds, even."

He doesn't look quite happy with this answer, but at least the panic has subsided. So, using his little brother as a crutch, Ed spends the evening trying to coax his leg back into listening to him. It takes longer than the hour Granny had estimated, but finally, he gets some movement out of the knee again, even if the ankle still won't respond. The Rockbells approach this issue the same way they did before, by moving the joint by hand in hopes of stimulating its connection, and Ed approaches the issue the same way he did before, by thinking about the scientific laws governing his body. Unlike the knee, which was purposefully locked in a stiff position when he couldn't move it, the ankle is entirely limp, hanging brokenly every time he lifts it off the ground. And despite their efforts, they find no success this session. Edward goes to bed disappointed, but not discouraged, telling himself it'll all work out tomorrow.

…

Unfortunately for him, a cold snap washes over southeastern Amestris overnight, dropping temperatures nearly twenty degrees below average. Whereas it had previously been a tolerable thirty-five degrees, it's now below twenty, frigid air seeping into the house through window frames and doorways. The Rockbells adjust the radiator to try and compensate, but it seems like everyone else in the area has the same idea, and not even an hour later, the power goes out.

One moment, Ed, Al, and Winry are just happily sitting at the table, eating breakfast and playing cards, and the next, everything goes dark. It's entirely overcast outside, so the natural light doesn't help much, and a moment later, Pinako comes stomping down the stairs, shining a flashlight beam through the house.

"This better be a blown fuse…" she grumbles, making her way to the closet by the front door while the kids watch her wearily. They hear the door open, followed by several flipping switches, but the house stays dark. Pinako returns to the dining room, sighing. "Well, kids, looks like it's not us."

"How long do you think it'll be out?" Winry asks, stacking the cards back into a pile; it would be a bit difficult to continue using them in the dark, after all.

"Can't say, but like always, we're going to treat it as indefinite. But to make matters worse, matches were on my shopping list, so the fireplace won't do us much good…" She puts her hands to her hips, contemplating what to do for a moment. "Alphonse, go collect all of our lanterns from the basement. Winry, help me collect blankets from the spare bedroom. And Edward, go find Den and shoo her upstairs. Nobody is to open the icebox for the rest of the day. Drink tap water. We'll figure out lunch and dinner as they come."

The three kids nod and split into their assigned roles. Growing up in Resembool, they're no strangers to power outages. Summer storms, winter temperatures—even just strong winds can knock out the power grid. It usually only lasts a few hours, and while it may be a stressful situation for the adults in town, it's always sort of an adventure for the children. Once their duties are complete, having no power always becomes a sort of survival game in the dark, quiet house, and it ends up being a lot of fun.

Ed meanders through the house in search of the dog, using the opportunity to try and spark his ankle to life while he's looking. It still doesn't want to listen, and he has to lift his leg in exaggerated steps to keep the limp foot from dragging. "Den! C'mere, girl!" He hears no response. "Stubborn dog…" he grumbles.

Just then, a flash of black and white shoots from the study, crashing headfirst into Ed's shins. He stumbles back, arm flailing in an attempt to keep his balance, but before he can tell it to, his metal leg catches him. Disoriented, Den shakes her head, clearly not having expected to smash into something on her exit.

"Stupid dog, you just about ran me over!" Ed scolds, before realizing what that means. He looks wide-eyed at Den, who's staring at him with a big doggy grin, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Suddenly, Ed breaks into a grin as well, leaning down and scratching her head. "Hey! You almost ran me over! But I didn't fall!" Den doesn't understand the significance in this, but leans into the head scratches, tail wagging happily. "C'mon, let's go upstairs now." He gently tugs her collar, and she falls in step with him as he starts off toward the staircase. Once they arrive, the dog bounds up toward the voices of the rest of the family, and Ed starts after her. If there was one good thing to come from disobeying the No Stairs Rule, it was that after his punishment, Granny decided that (considering he didn't kill himself) going upstairs is acceptable after all. Not that she wouldn't have made an exception for today, since the second floor is higher and therefore warmer than the first, and without the help of the radiator or the fireplace, they're going to need all the warmth they can get.

The other three members of the household are in the spare bedroom, setting up what appears to be the last lantern. Being a relatively new invention, the Rockbells only have one flashlight—bought during one of Pinako's trips to East City for an automail summit because Resembool still doesn't sell any at its small town market. What the market does sell is oil lanterns, of which they own a combined total of six. That's enough to light up each bedroom upstairs, and still have two left over to carry throughout the house.

For the first couple hours, everything feels normal—fun even. The children build a fort in the spare bedroom, stringing sheets from the headboard of the bed to the desk in the corner, and eventually convince Pinako to join them inside (even if Alphonse is too tall to sit in it properly, having to lay out across the floor and stick his head into the blankets). They read by the lantern-light with blankets wrapped around themselves. Granny and Winry are reading what look like period romance novels (which Al finds cute and Ed finds tacky), while the Elrics both have a mystery novel (because despite what their peers think, yes, they own more than just alchemy books). But as their reading session progresses and whatever lingering warmth the radiator provided fades away, they begin to notice the cold. It's seeping through the floorboards, forcing Ed and the Rockbells to readjust their blankets.

"Is it cold?" Al asks innocently, causing everyone else to do a double take. A strange look crosses Ed's face, and he refocuses on his book, visibly uncomfortable. Winry and Pinako look at the younger boy, and Ed suddenly wonders how much he's told them about living in an armor body. Ed has asked and Al has tried to explain, but neither of them can quite figure out how to effectively communicate on the topic. From what Ed has garnered, the experience of sensory deprivation is both terrifying and extremely hard to understand, and he didn't want to ask any more after that. Sometimes, he can almost forget that Al is missing three of his five senses, and when he's forced to remember, it just reopens a wound that hasn't yet (and probably never will) heal.

"...Yeah," Winry answers quietly after a moment. "It's pretty cold now."

"...Oh," Al replies, if only to break the tension. "Sorry, I just...couldn't tell…"

Pinako playfully smacks her book against Al's head, diffusing his sadness before it can spread. "Don't worry about it, Al. We're just fine, and so are you." She glances at the elder Elric, decisively reaching over to bop his head too. "And you have no reason to feel guilty."

"I wasn't feeling guilty!" Ed says defensively, rubbing his head.

"Yes you were, so stop it." The book connects one more time. Ed glares at her before going back to his own novel.

At first, his mind is still consumed with thoughts about his little brother, despite Pinako's scolding. As much as he'd love not to feel guilty, he does, because he should. Like it or not, it's his fault Al doesn't know how cold it is. He glances at the younger boy, who appears to be contentedly reading his book once more. Of course, it's difficult to tell if he's truly content, since there are no emotional cues Ed can pick up on, but Al always has been easier to cheer up than Ed.

…Or maybe that's just what Ed is telling himself to keep from acknowledging the possibility that Al is upset.

Either way, Ed appears to be the only one dwelling on the events of the past five minutes, and thinking about this fact is only making him dwell on it more. He tries to focus back on his book, but he finds himself having to reread each line several times to process the words. He eventually just gives up, holding the book open and feigning interest but instead letting his mind wander.

Another hour passes, and the power still hasn't returned. Pinako leaves to make peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, and when she returns, she quickly hands off the plates and settles back into her blanket.

"If this goes on past dinnertime, we might have to take a trip to borrow some matches…" she comments, the thought of a nice roaring fire in the fireplace sounding wonderful to everyone.

It sounds especially wonderful right now to Edward, who is finding it increasingly difficult to keep away the chill. He currently has two blankets wrapped around his upper body and one around his lower, and he's still cold. He briefly recalls what Granny said on the day it snowed (automail makes it feel colder than it is) and wonders if that's what he's experiencing. It makes sense; he has a bunch of metal on and inside his body, and metal is conductive to temperature. It probably doesn't help that his brother is essentially a walking ice pack, and is radiating cold against his will. Ed briefly considers asking Al to wrap one of their blankets around himself to stop some of the spread, but decides not to for fear of making the ten-year-old feel worse. So, he just readjusts his own blankets, eating his sandwich as quickly as possible so he can get his arm back into his cocoon.

Pinako watches this out of the corner of her eye with practiced stealth, still looking to everyone else like she's deep into reading. After a while, she can tell Ed is not just cold, but growing uncomfortable, too. She sees him readjust himself, again and again, looking increasingly frustrated. A minute later, she notices him moving to hold his place in his book with his foot, snaking his hand under the blanket and subtly trying to massage his right shoulder. That's when she decides this has gone on long enough.

"Is the cold bothering you, Ed?" she asks.

He immediately freezes, looking like he's been caught doing something he's not supposed to.

"Why you lookin' like that, boy? I only asked you a question." He still looks unsure, so she adds, "It's not a complicated question, either."

He deflates slightly, sighing. "It kinda hurts."

"What does? Just your shoulder, or is your leg bothering you, too?"

He glances at Al and Winry. "...Do they have to hear this?"

Pinako lets out an exasperated sigh. "For goodness sake, I thought we were past this…" she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Winry's a mechanic, Edward. And your brother is your brother. There's nothing wrong with talking about pain in front of them." Winry straightens up a little at being called a mechanic, rather than apprentice mechanic, and Al gives a small nod clearly belying an encouraging smile. The gesture only serves to make Ed more uncomfortable rather than the intended purpose of reassuring him, but he gives in anyway.

"Fine. Both, and I'm freezing, too, which isn't helping. Happy?"

Ignoring Ed's tone, Pinako nods knowingly before turning her attention to the younger Elric. "Al, can your alchemy change the states of matter?"

"Like, you mean from solids to liquids to gasses? That kind of change?" the suit of armor asks.

"Yeah."

"Uh-huh, I can do that."

"Can you go in Ed's room and get his medicine bin?"

"Okay." Al slips out of the fort and hurries downstairs, clearly glad to be useful. He returns a minute later with the requested items. "What do you need?"

"There should be a couple rubber bottles in there. Usually, we'd just fill them with hot water, but since we don't have any right now, I want you to fill them and do a little alchemy to heat the water manually." Al nods and leaves for the sink, and Ed gives Pinako another look. She rolls her eyes. "Do you want to feel better or not?"

"...I guess. But I don't know why you had to bring Al into it."

"Well, if you're really going off to the military next year, you might as well get used to trusting Al with things."

Ed doesn't have a good response to that, so he just glares at her until Al comes back, carrying a pad of paper along with the bottles. He draws a circle on the paper, tearing it out and laying the bottles on top of it.

"So you just want hot water? Not steam?" he asks, getting an affirmative nod. Al activates the circle, asking Pinako to check to make sure it worked.

Satisfied with the temperature, she pushes the bottles in Ed's direction. "Lay those against your ports."

Ed pulls the rubber bottles under his blanket and gets them situated against his shoulder and leg, looking skeptical despite having used them before. "How do you know all this stuff?"

"I used to do it for my husband all the time," she shrugs.

All three kids look at her in surprise with that statement. They've only heard Granny mention her late husband a few times throughout the years, and assumed the reason must have been bad. Winry knows more than Ed and Al, since she's his blood granddaughter, but even she doesn't know a whole lot. She knows they met during an uprising, and he was Granny's first ever automail patient, and he died before Winry's parents had married, but that's it. The children glance at each other, all wondering if they can ask more, before Winry decides to take the chance.

"...Grandma? What was Grandpa like?"

Pinako is quiet for a moment, and the kids worry they went into territory they shouldn't have. Then, quietly, she says, "He was a difficult man, but a man I loved very much." Ed, Al, and Winry wait in anticipation for more, feeling as though a single misplaced word will stop the story before it can even begin. Pinako sits back, looking thoughtful. "I suppose you're all old enough to hear the story now. I always told myself I'd wait until one of you asked, and decide then if you were ready." She looks the three kids in the eyes, apparently deciding the time is indeed right. She closes her book, and begins the tale.

"We met during Nicholas' Rebellion in '69—you know, that one that started in Gyoir with all the farmers and got out of hand? Since it's only half a day away, my parents decided to go over and help the field doctors, and asked me to come along since I was officially joining the family business soon. Our family has been a name in prosthetics since the '20s, and we've always been pioneers of the field. I was twenty at the time, still with the last name Blackwell, and my parents were trying to reel me into the business because they'd been displeased with me from the age of seventeen. I had no interest in any of it." A faint smile crosses her face. "I admit I was a bit wild as a young woman. I went out drinking a lot, with people I probably shouldn't have. My parents thought I should use that energy to help others, instead of ruining myself. So, even though I didn't want to, I went north with them." The smile fades. "It was bad. There were almost a hundred people dead, and a couple hundred more injured. We were taking care of a bunch of patients in this one house somebody had loaned, when this man maybe a couple years older than me came in. Another man was dragging him, and he was unconscious. The conscious man was yelling and hysterical, but through it we figured out that his friend had been mauled by a dog one of the rebels sent out. It had entirely torn up his left leg, so badly it was barely recognizable as a leg at all from the knee down. They'd tried treating it themselves for a day, but it was only getting worse. My parents told the man the only way we had a chance of saving his friend was if we took the leg off. He told us to do it. We learned the victim's name was Victor Rockbell, and the one who'd brought him in was named Alexander. We honestly didn't think Victor was going to make it. The bites were infected, and even after removing the leg, he was still really sick. My parents still had all our other patients to tend to, and made me Victor's personal doctor since he was in the roughest condition of all of them. It took over two weeks for him to stabilize enough where we weren't constantly worried the illness would get him."

All three kids have to suppress a shudder with those words. The images in Al and Winry's minds are eerily similar to those first two weeks after the transmutation when Edward was sick and half-conscious, and even if Ed doesn't remember it like they do, he's just as unnerved by the obvious parallels. Pinako realizes this, too, quickly moving on with the story.

"But when he finally got through it and was coherent enough to hold a conversation with, I soon found I enjoyed talking to him. Every time I went to care for him, I would ask new questions about his life, and he would ask new questions about mine. I was there when he finally broke down over losing his leg, and I was there when he asked how he could go on living like that. Now when I think about it, I bet I sounded pretty conceited, but I told him my family were experts in making people new limbs. I don't think that was what I should have said in the moment, because he barely talked to me for the next week. But by then, the rebellion was over and the patients who hadn't gone back home yet were healed enough to get care from family, and we couldn't take up that person's house forever. We were set to leave the next day, and Alexander offered to help Victor out as long as he needed. But as I was giving Victor some last instructions before we left, he just asked me out of the blue if he could come with us. I was surprised, and said he'd have to apply to be one of our full time patients. But he said that wasn't what he was talking about. He said he wanted to move to Resembool, and he'd think about applying later.

"So we brought him back to Resembool, and after a couple weeks of testing out a wheelchair and some crutches, he decided he'd rather give our prosthetics a go. He stayed with us longer as he got used to his new leg, and then started looking for a place to live. And when he finally found one, that was when I realized—I didn't want him to leave. He'd been with us for about five months, either as a patient or a houseguest, and I'd gotten really attached to him. He was an interesting man. Very knowledgeable in some topics, but clueless in others. He liked to read and write a lot, which was something I hadn't been too interested in until then. He introduced me to a lot of books, and I taught him about plants and cooking and medicine. Sometimes he was really difficult and petty, but so was I. I asked if he really had to go, and he said there was no reason to stay any longer...not without being family, at least. I think the look on my face must have said it all, because then he asked me to marry him. We got married in '71, and my father built this house in '72. We had Winry's dad the next year."

A bittersweet half-smile crosses both Rockbells' faces at the mention of Yuriy, and Pinako squeezes her granddaughter's hand before continuing.

"My parents turned over Blackwell Prosthetics to me a few years later, and I started putting together the patients' ward we have today. And then, in 1890, the first automail technology started emerging." The old woman laughs. "Victor wanted nothing to do with it. He said the day he let me put a mechanical leg on him would be the day he left me. I understand that sentiment now, since the technology was so new and intimidating. But after a few years, when the success rate of surgery was higher, I finally managed to convince him to let me try it." She smiles at Winry, then Ed and Al. "That was around the time your dad met your mom, and I became friends with your guys' father." The children exchange slightly uncomfortable glances and Pinako chuckles again. "Anyway, the surgery went fine, but early automail was really rough. If you think it's rough now, it was ten times worse back then. The nerve connections were a lot less harmonious, and it made the whole nervous system hypersensitive. Pain is always a constant with automail, but it's mostly centered near the ports now. Back then, it took over the whole body. There were times I felt bad for trying it out on him, but he took it all in stride. He said he was proud to be part of medical history, and knew great things would come of it someday.

"So, as the technology advanced, he let himself be a guinea pig to it. By '97, it had improved leaps and bounds, and I finally incorporated it into the Rockbell business. I was getting patients almost immediately, and since my son and his fiancee were versed in medicine, I asked them to join the practice.

"But then…Victor got sick. It was something going around that we'd barely heard of, but it was killing a lot of people. And just a couple weeks later, he passed away. We didn't even have a chance to find a treatment for it, it all happened so quick. I was a mess afterwards, thinking I was somehow to blame. I even stopped taking patients, and was weeks away from losing the business. But then, Yuriy and Sarah married, and then Hohenheim and Trisha married...and then Edward was born, and Winry was born, and Alphonse was born, and I suddenly had a lot of other things to think about." A warm, genuine smile crosses Pinako's face as she looks at her grandchildren, one related by blood and two who might as well be. "You kids gave my life purpose again. I poured myself into helping others get back on their feet, and I'm so grateful I did. If it weren't for you three, I don't even know if the Rockbell name would still be around. It's all because of you."

Ed, Al, and Winry stare at the old woman in stunned silence, left speechless by what they just heard. They always knew they were special to Granny, but to learn that they are the reason she got to where she is is overwhelmingly touching. None of them know what to say, especially Ed or Al, but after a moment, they realize that maybe nothing needs to be said.

Suddenly, Winry sniffles, throwing her bundled, blanketed form into her grandmother's, followed a moment later by Alphonse. And, even though he's never been the type of person to seek physical comfort from anyone but his mother, Edward feels drawn to them as well. He shuffles his still achy, freezing body into the hug, and despite being pressed against his icy metal brother and shivering surrogate family, he swears for a moment that he's never felt warmer.

I have no idea where that backstory came from in all honesty- there's no official story about Pinako's life in fma canon...All I could find was one drawing in the manga showing her and her nameless husband standing outside the Rockbell house in 1872. But these ideas were just so sweet and wholesome and made so much sense to me that I couldn't stop writing it. Obviously, she lied a little about when she met hohenheim...but there's no explaining to Ed and Al the real timeline there. I hope it was just as wholesome and sweet to you as it was to me.

Thanks for putting up with the much too long wait. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be finished, but it takes place during Winter Solstice...so my ultimate goal is to have it done by Christmastime (y'know, for the vibes!)

ALSO! I'm planning on updating the tumblr post tomorrow, since it's pretty late tonight. Be on the lookout for that, for more helpful illustrations *wink*

I will see you all then! :')