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True Wind

Summary:

Ed introduces Russell to Winry. It remains to be seen if this was a bad idea…

Title refers to the direction and speed of the wind felt when stationary at anchor or on land.

Notes:

In this AU, Ed lost his arm and leg during two separate traumatic events. We’ve already learned how he lost his leg, this time we find out how he lost his arm.

Also, since this is an historic AU where automail still exists (too advanced for the time), some of the medical stuff might not be too historically accurate. I tried to keep it as realistic as possible, but Amestris always seemed more technologically advanced than Earth anyway.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The morning was bright and warm as the carriage pulled up the dusty drive, the temperature already hinting at the arrival of a hot and dry early summer day. This town was nestled in a caldera valley about as far inland as someone could get on an island. Russell already missed the fresh ocean breeze.

Ed and Al had been sitting across from him for the short, half hour journey from Central City, looking over the stack of parchment from the meeting the night before. Their conversation was a little too technical for him, though, so he’d tuned out their low voices early on, and did some reading instead.

Russell closed his book and pushed back the curtain with one finger, peering through the glass to get a better view out of the carriage window.

He could see the approaching building through the low haze of dirt kicked up by the horses. It was a simple, square, two-story structure, where Winry, Ed’s best friend and mechanic, lived with her children and grandmother.

Off to the right of the house was a wooden sign that read “Rockbell Automail”.

The home was quite a bit larger than Russell had expected after Ed had described it as a “cottage”.

Ed and Russell planned to stay for a week while the Trisha was being refitted and restocked back at Port Central. Ed was sure the maintenance needed on his automail arm and leg wouldn’t take all week, but he did still want Russell to learn how to perform it himself just in case Ed needed help while out at sea.

Al would only be staying a couple of nights, though, mostly to catch up with Winry but also to discuss some last-minute plans with Ed before Al would head back to the city.

The carriage slowed to a stop on the driveway in front of the yellow cottage, the dust finally settling to reveal a young woman standing in front of the steps leading up to the porch. She had her blonde hair loosely pulled back, partially covered in a red kerchief, and was wearing a simple cream-colored linen dress with sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

A warm welcoming smile spread across her face as Ed and Al rushed out of the carriage to greet her.

Russell took his time stepping down, not wanting to interrupt the reunion, and ended up standing somewhat awkwardly a few paces back, trying to stay out of the way of the footmen unloading their luggage.

He shaded his eyes from the sun and watched as Ed and Al received affectionate hugs from the woman, all the while exchanging pleasantries in high, excited tones.

Russell startled slightly when a piercing screech drew his attention away from the small group. He saw two blurs of color charge out of the front door and jump down the steps.

“Uncle Ed! Uncle Al! Uncle Ed! Uncle Al!” they shouted, bouncing in an excited circle around them. These must by Winry’s little 6-year-old son and daughter that Ed had told him about, or, as he had described them, somewhat proudly, “the twin hellions.”

Russell heard Ed laugh in delight and say, “are you both really that happy to see us or are you just hoping we brought you some gifts?”

“Gifts! Gifts!” they shouted, jumping around even more.

“You know I hate it when you spoil them,” Winry said, crossing her arms in exasperation, although Russell was sure he heard some amusement in her tone.

“What else are uncles good for?” Ed replied before crouching down to speak with the children. They immediately stopped bouncing as Ed got on their level.

“Are you two going to behave for your mother?”

They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Good,” Ed replied, “because I would hate to have to return the presents we brought for you.”

“What did you bring us, Uncle?” the little girl asked carefully, clearly attempting to be polite.

“You’ll just have to wait until after lunch,” he said and they both moaned in disappointment, “and you need to make sure you remember your manners and clear your plate and then I’ll show you, deal?”

Both nodded eagerly again. Ed stood and ruffled the already messy hair of each of them before turning to look back at Russell, who had been watching the whole exchange in silent amusement.

Ed flashed him a quick grin, the one that always made him catch his breath.

“Uncle Al, there are new kittens!” the little boy said, tugging on Al’s sleeve. “You wanna see?”

“Of course I do!” Al replied, sounding genuinely thrilled. The little girl grabbed his other hand, and both started pulling him away.

Ed let out a low laugh as Al looked back with a shrug before disappearing around the side of the house.

Russell stepped up to stand beside Ed, still somewhat nervous about being invited last minute and hoping he wasn’t intruding. Ed had sent a short letter to Winry as soon as they had arrived in port, but he hadn’t received a response before they set off early this morning.

“Winry, I’d like you to meet someone,” Ed began. “This is Doctor Russell Tringham.”

“The guest you mentioned?” Winry asked skeptically, leaning back slightly and peering up at Russell, arms still crossed. “You’ve never brought anyone else home with you before.”

“I know,” Ed said, hesitant. “I was hoping you’d let him shadow you this week while you work on my arm and leg.”

Winry continued to study Russell closely with a slightly distrustful air about her.

Russell cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in his best professional voice. “Ed has told me a lot about you, and I look forward to seeing more of your work.”

Her eyes narrowed briefly at the casual use of Ed’s name and Russell instantly second guessed himself. Should he have maybe referred to Ed as Captain? Russell was usually much better at meeting new people, Winry just made him uneasy, he supposed. She and Ed had known each other their whole lives so this meeting felt significant.

“You're a physician?” she asked, considering.

Russell nodded. “I completed my mastery at Central University Medical College.”

Winry seemed to relax slightly at this and uncrossed her arms. She finally reached her hand out for a shake instead of presenting it for a kiss on the back.

Russell took her hand gratefully, hoping that he’d just passed some kind of test he hadn’t studied for.

“Well, you’d better come in then,” Winry said, turning to lead them up the stairs and into the house.

Inside, the ground floor was a wide-open space with the living and dining area in the middle of the room and a well-worn but comfortable looking couch in front of a homey looking fireplace.

Next to the fireplace was a set of stairs leading to the upper floor with a couple doors on either side of it along the back wall.

Off to the right was a large archway leading into the kitchen. Russell caught a glimpse of bright airy windows and the hint of something that smelled delightful baking in an oven.

On the left was what looked like a workspace with a collection of tools and unknown gadgets on a scarred wooden table; that must be where Winry conducted her work.

The whole place had a very cozy, lived-in feel to it with all the little knick-knacks on shelves and children’s toys scattered everywhere. Russell immediately felt himself relax.

Most importantly, it was a cool relief from the sun outside, every window left open to catch what was left of the morning breeze.

“You can have your usual ground floor room,” Winry told Ed before turning to look at Russell, “and there’s a small room upstairs next to Al, if you’d like to take that one.”

Slightly taken-aback, Russell found himself casting around in his head for a proper response. Not finding one, he looked over at Ed uncertainly. They hadn’t discussed the sleeping arrangements beforehand.

Ed flicked a quick glance at him and said, casually, “no need, he can stay with me.”

Winry’s eyes darted between the two of them before she crossed her arms again, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

“So, it’s like that, is it?” she said, and Russell couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or amused. Russell felt his face heat as she focused all her attention on him again.

Russell hoped she wasn’t going to change her mind about having him here. He tried to keep his face impassive, not wanting to give away the mild terror he felt at her scrutiny.

She nodded finally and said, “alright then.” She pointed at Ed, “but don’t think you’re leaving here without explaining how this—” she waved her finger between the two of them “—happened, got it?”

Ed grinned at her, “of course,” he glanced over at Russell again, “it’s actually a really funny story.”

Ed gave him a wink and Russell let out a huff of breath before he could stop himself.

Winry caught the interaction and hummed doubtfully.

“It must be a good story, if you’re bringing him home to meet the family,” Winry said wryly, and Russell’s stomach dropped because, of course that’s what this was.

Russell felt woefully unprepared for this week.


The downstairs guest room was compact, small enough to fit the simple layout of the cottage but just large enough to not feel cramped with two grown men staying in it. The bed was neat and clean, made up with fresh sheets that smelled of cut grass and lavender, and twice the size, at least, of Ed’s bunk back on the ship.

Russell was looking forward to having a bit more space to sleep. Ed might be shorter than him, but he sprawled when he slept, which was fine for now while it was still cool at night, but it was on the verge of summer and Ed gave off body heat like a cast iron stove.

There was an ewer of cool water and a porcelain wash basin on a stand opposite the bed and a privacy screen in one corner. A vase of fresh flowers sat on a dresser next to a shaving mirror and there was just enough room on either side of the bed for them to store their trunks.

Russell could feel the room already starting to warm up, so he was relieved to finally remove his coat and cravat, leaving his waistcoat on as a concession to formality. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and removed his stock cloth, loosening the ties at the neck of his shirt to help ease some of the heat.

Ed splashed some water on his face, heavy layers already gone, and said, “don’t worry about dressing formally, we’re very casual here, especially in the summer.”

“Are you sure?” Russell frowned to himself. “I want to make a good impression.”

“You already have,” Ed assured him, sounding pleased. He patted his face dry with a bright white cloth. “If Winry didn’t like you, she wouldn’t have let you in the house,” he quipped, hanging the cloth to dry on the side of the stand.

Ed took a few steps forward to stand in front of Russell and began running his fingers through his short hair, playing with the pieces that fell in front. Russell hummed softly and leaned into Ed’s touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as a shiver raced up his spine.

“She’s probably just relieved that I didn’t pick up some half-rate back-alley sawbones and instead brought home an intelligent, cultured, and handsome doctor,” Ed commented, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind Russell’s ears.

Russell brought his hands up to rest just above Ed’s hips, thumbs tracing light circles through the thin linen fabric of his shirt. He tugged Ed forward a bit to stand between his knees.

“Has that actually happened before?” Russell asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Just the once,” Ed chuckled at the memory. “But it was an accident! Winry was furious when we found him stowing away on the ship.”

“Why did he try to stow away?” Russell closed his eyes again and pressed his head into Ed’s palm as he scratched lightly on his scalp. He felt Ed shrug.

“I think he was hoping I’d give him a job,” Ed huffed and sank down on the bed next to Russell.

Russell let out a small sigh at the loss of Ed’s hands and leaned into him instead, shoulder to shoulder.

“Really though, don’t worry about Winry,” Ed insisted. “If you need to find some common ground, just talk about the university. She completed her mechanical engineering mastery there.”

“She did?” Russell wondered idly if they’d attended at the same time, they were both around the same age.

Ed hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “That’s probably why you got her approval. It’s the best school in the country so she trusts that you know what you’re doing.”

Russell sighed. “I hope I can keep up with her, I crammed so much information about mechanics this past week, it felt like my last year of medical school all over again.”

He felt the light touch of Ed’s hand on his jaw as he turned Russell’s head toward him.

“I know you can,” he said quietly, eyes soft. Russell smiled, grateful for the support even if he wasn’t so sure himself. “She’ll take you under her wing and you’ll be an expert in no time.”

Ed slid his hand up across Russell’s cheek and glanced down at his lips before leaning in for a kiss. It was soft and slow, patient, with a promise of more to come later. Ed pulled away with a soft smack.

“And whenever you need a break, we can sneak away and make use of this gigantic bed.”

Ed’s charming grin was back, and Russell laughed, playfully pushing Ed onto his back against the mattress. Russell leaned over to kiss him, smiling against Ed’s lips as Ed sunk his fingers into Russell’s hair once more.


They couldn’t linger in their room for too long because Winry insisted on checking Ed’s arm before lunch so she could figure out what she was dealing with.

“You know the drill,” Winry said sternly, pointing at one of the wooden chairs next to her work bench. Ed flopped down onto it.

“Bossy,” he commented, although it came out sounding more affectionate than annoyed. He grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I haven’t been away that long.”

“Yes, you have,” Winry insisted, setting up a magnified lamp for a more focused beam of light. “Otherwise, your shoulder wouldn’t be bothering you this much.”

Winry took a seat on a tall stool at an angle from Ed’s shoulder, arranged the light to best advantage, and rolled a small support rest under his arm so he wouldn’t have to hold it up.

She glanced at Russell and nodded at another chair. Russell quickly pulled it over and sat next to her.

Winry focused on the shoulder connection, where most of the strain was taking place.

“You see here,” Winry pointed, and Russell leaned forward, realizing that she was speaking to him. “Where the bolts attach to bone?”

He nodded.

“The weight of the arm is pulling on the metal port which is pulling on the bolts which is putting strain on the bone.”

Winry lifted Ed’s arm, running her fingers across the plate seams, inspecting them, and making a few small, displeased noises.

She looked up at Ed and asked, “how’s your leg?”

“Same as usual,” Ed explained, shifting a little in his chair. “Except my hip has been starting to hurt lately.”

“You never mentioned that,” Russell commented in low surprise. Had Ed had another source of pain this whole time and just been trying to ignore it?

Ed did manage to look a bit guilty at this statement. “It’s not nearly as bad as my shoulder,” he insisted. “I’m used to it, anyway.”

Russell furrowed his brow at Ed in concern but, before he could say anything, Winry let out a long sigh.

“You’ve left it too long,” Winry told him, sounding harsher this time. “You do realize I’m going to have to replace them both at some point, right?”

“What?” Ed protested. “I don’t have time to wait for you to make new ones, we have to leave in a week.”

“Then you should have let me switch you to a newer model a year ago, when you had more time,” Winry admonished him, and her frustrated tone gave Russell the sense that this was an old argument.

“It’s past time for that now, so you’re either going to have to deal with the pain or let me install an upgrade,” she tapped a fingernail against the metal arm which gave off a dull pinging sound. “This is my oldest model; I don’t make them like this anymore for this very reason.”

Russell was even more impressed than he had been before. He would very much like to see what Winry had improved on from what was, in his opinion, an already magnificent piece of metal work.

“I’m four models ahead now, it’s practically ancient compared to what I’ve been working on lately.”

“Winry, I can’t be away for too long, you know that.”

“And I can’t do the installation on a moving ship.”

Russell felt a bit awkward as they sat there staring at each other, the tension rising and settling around them. He decided that staying silent was probably the best course of action for the moment.

The stalemate didn’t last long before the sound of a door slamming open startled everyone.

They all turned as one to watch Al step back inside with the children. Once he realized that three sets of eyes were watching him, he paused, uncertain, just inside the door. The only sound came from exuberant chatter and tiny feet running up the stairs.

Winry let out a sharp breath. “Al, can you come over here and talk some sense into your brother?” she asked, tone significantly gentler than it had been a moment ago.

Al sighed, “what is it this time?”

“The same thing as last time only more urgent.”

“Brother, I wish you’d listen to Winry,” Al said softly as he came over to join them.

“We’re sailing out with the fleet soon, I need to be there to make sure the ship is ready,” Ed said with something that sounded like finality although Russell thought he detected a bit of a waver in his voice.

Russell cleared his throat softly, unsure if he should intrude on a family discussion and was disconcerted when all three of them turned to look at him.

“I just thought…” he hesitated. “isn’t Al heading back to look after the ship? He’s your second in command, right?

The silence felt different this time, less tense and more considering.

“He’s got a point,” Winry said eventually. “This is why you have lieutenants, you know.”

“I can handle everything, and it’s not like I’ll be by myself,” Al insisted.

Ed paused, apparently reflecting on this.

He surprised Russell by turning to look at him instead of answering his brother. “What’s your medical opinion?”

Russell considered this briefly before glancing over at Winry. “You said the weight of the metal is the problem?” She nodded. “And the upgrade is lighter?”

“Much lighter and with greater precision of movement.”

He turned back to Ed. “It does sound like the long-term benefits would be worth it.”

Ed sighed in defeat, running a hand over his face. “I know, I just…” he looked back at Winry. “I need to think about it.”

“Stubborn,” Winry muttered. “You’re not my only client, you know. I had to rearrange my schedule for you.”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“Is it working?”

Just then a new voice appeared over the bickering. It was coming from the direction of the kitchen and Russell hadn’t even realized that there was someone else in the house.

“One of you had better come help me with these dishes,” the voice ordered, “or no one is eating!”

He looked over to see an old, tiny woman step through the archway from the kitchen, hands in fists on her hips, and a chastising expression on her face.

Winry stood immediately and Russell followed her example, chair legs scraping across the floor. He got the immediate sense that this was not a woman you wanted to disobey.

Al was the one who replied. “I will, granny,” he said to her, then turned back to Ed, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Just talk this over with Winry, alright?”

Ed nodded, somewhat reluctantly. Al patted his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Come on,” Winry said to Ed, jerking her head toward the back door of the cottage. “I have something to show you that might make your decision easier.”

The door leading off the living area opened out onto a wide, grassy space with a small stable off to the left and a few fenced in pens for chickens and a couple goats.

But it was the large, blue building off to the right where Winry was leading them. Russell thought at first that it might be a very large carriage house, but he heard himself gasp in surprise when Winry pushed open a wide, rolling door.

It was a workshop. Of course it was. There was no way that the small space in the house could contain all of Winry’s work.

The ceiling was as high as a two-story building, with several skylights built in along the roof to let in as much natural light as possible. It had the same effect he remembered from the operating auditorium at the university where he’d spent many long hours.

Winry led them down an aisle between the worktables running down the center of the room and a row of wooden cabinets lining the wall on one side.

Russell paused as he came up to the first table and gasped as he caught sight of a metal hand perched on top of a work stand that had been set up on the table surface. The mechanical interior of the hand was laid open to the light showing it was still a work in progress.

The cladding that had already been attached had a bright silver sheen to it, so unlike the dull tones that he was used to seeing on Ed’s arm. The metal shined in the sunlight and Russell couldn’t stop staring.

The thin metal plating made it look so delicate that he was afraid to breathe on it in case it fell apart.

He sensed Ed come up to stand beside him.

“Is this what you’ve been working on?” Ed asked Winry, sounding slightly breathless.

“That’s my latest official design,” Winry confirmed, and Russell heard the slight emphasis on the word ‘official’.

“It’s so graceful,” Russell whispered, still taking in every fine line and elegant component.

“Winry, you are an actual artist,” Ed said, his voice filled with awe. “I mean, I knew that already, but this…” Ed gestured at the hand, “you’ve really outdone yourself.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Winry replied, sounding a little smug at Ed’s compliment. “I have another one I think you’ll like even better.”

She pulled open the doors of the cabinet next to her and slid a large wooden box from an interior shelf. She hauled it across to the work table, placing it down as gently as she could and loosening the latches.

Ed drifted closer and Russell followed, feeling a bit of excited expectation at what might be revealed.

The small hinges let out a soft creak as Winry slowly lifted the box lid until it lay flat on the table. Two metal limbs lay inside, resting securely on a soft velvet cushion molded to their exact shape. They shone brightly as they were exposed to the warm light streaming in through the skylights and high windows.

Ed was the one to gasp this time because Russell could scarcely breathe. The arm and leg were the perfect combination of beauty and function, with a somehow even more refined design than the hand.

The seams between the plates were no longer being used only as a connection between two pieces but were aligned in such a way that they created a curved design around the limbs, cradling them almost, adding a pleasing aesthetic that begged to be seen and not hidden away.

“This is my latest prototype,” Winry explained, slipping on a pair of cloth gloves so as not to leave fingerprints on the polished surface. “I’ve been working on them for the past year. No one else has seen them yet, except granny.”

“Winry, why are you showing me this?” Ed asked in a tone that made it sound like he might already know the answer to the question.

Winry gave Ed a fond look and, even though Russell had seen them bickering just minutes before, he could practically feel the affection pouring from her.

“Because they’re yours,” she said simply, reaching into the box to lift out the arm. She turned toward them, the arm balanced carefully in her hands.

Ed tentatively reached out with his left hand, clearly wanting to run his fingers across the smooth metal surface but let his hand hover instead, as though he was afraid to damage it.

“I used a mix of chrome to better resist saltwater damage and aluminum alloy to make it lighter,” Winry explained.

The color variation was very subtle but when Winry twisted the arm just so, the light hit it at a different angle, and he could just make out the difference. This nearly invisible change was likely created to be an easily overlooked embellishment, one which belied the likely long, painstaking days of detailed work it would have taken to get the effect just right.

Winry had clearly mastered the universal sign of true quality: making something complicated look easy.

“I built the connecting joint in a way that will give you a wider range of motion at the shoulder and I made it easier to perform maintenance by yourself.”

Ed seemed to have finally found his voice again because he asked, tremulously, “you made these for me?”

Winry nodded, her soft smile still in place. “I completed them about a month ago so they’re ready for installation.”

She turned back to the lined box and gently settled the metal arm back in its place.

She looked back to Ed and said, cautiously, as though trying not to push him too much, despite her earlier insistence. “I can install them tomorrow, if you’d like.”

She slowly removed her gloves. “That would give you plenty of time to recover and get familiar with the new weight distribution. Then you can get back to your ship, just in time to leave us again.” She accompanied this last part with a sad, distant smile.

Without warning, Ed strode forward, quickly closing the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around Winry’s shoulders, squeezing her tight. She let out a short, pleased laugh and brought her own arms around his back, holding him tight and resting her head against Ed’s shoulder.

Russell felt himself smile wide, unable to stop himself.

They stood there in Winry’s workshop, hugging for a moment longer under the bright light, next to the box that held the physical manifestation of Winry’s love for Ed, before Ed finally pulled away.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this,” Ed began, his voice still unsteady.

Winry held up a hand to cut him off.

“You’re going to repay me by testing them out,” Winry explained, all business again. “I’ll expect regular reports from you. You’ll be the first to wear this model and I want to know how well it performs before I start producing more, especially the resistance to salt water. I want to market these to the navy, specifically.”

Ed nodded furiously. “I promise I will,” he told her, leaning in to give her another hug, shorter this time, before stepping back. “So, tomorrow, then?” he asked, and Russell thought he heard a trace of anxiety in his tone.

“Tomorrow,” Winry replied with a relieved nod, her face breaking into the biggest smile Russell had seen from her yet.


Lunch was a lively affair with the constant chatter of the children and Winry and Ed arguing playfully over something or other while Al laughed at their ridiculous disagreement.

Russell smiled to himself and reached for his drinking glass, his gaze inadvertently landing on Winry’s grandmother where she sat at the end of the table. She appeared to be studying him. He dropped his hand onto the table, feeling a hint of uneasiness.

“So, Edward brought home a doctor, hmm?” She nodded to herself. “Good for him. It’s about time he settled down.”

Russell felt a soft flutter in his stomach at the thought, but it wasn’t in discomfort, it felt more like a sense of peace, almost.

“Is it even possible to settle down while on a ship?” Russell wondered, genuinely curious.

“If anyone could, it would be Edward, that boy has salt water in his blood. He was born at sea, you know. They both were.”

“I didn’t know that,” Russell tilted his head, intrigued. He wondered how much more he could learn from her.

“He always was more comfortable on the rolling deck of a ship in the middle of a storm than during a calm day on dry land. If you both end up staying the week, you’ll see,” she nodded sagely at him. “He’ll need distracting, or he starts going stir crazy.”

“I think he has decided to stay,” Russell confirmed. “It sounds like the upgrade will help, in the long run.”

“It will, don’t you worry. I’m just happy he’s finally agreed to it.” She reached over and patted the back of his hand in a maternal sort of way that Russell found comforting. “You keep being a good influence on him, he needs someone like that in his life.”

Russell ducked his head slightly feeling oddly pleased at her words. “I’ll try my best.”

She patted his hand again, gave him an approving smile, and went back to her meal.

“And feel free to call me granny, dear,” she added, picking up her spoon. “Everyone else does.”

A small voice piped up then, and Russell turned his attention toward it.

“Uncle, may we see our gifts now?” the little girl asked in a polite tone, her brother nodding enthusiastically next to her.

This seemed to finally distract Ed and Winry from their heated discussion. Ed gave Winry a questioning look and she shrugged with a tilt of her head.

“Go take your dishes into the kitchen, first,” he told them with calm patience, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward slightly like he was including them in on some secret. “Then you’ll get your surprise.”

Russell suddenly thought of the heavy wooden box Ed had shown him the day before and remembered the strain it had put on his shoulder when he had picked it up.

Before Ed even had a chance to ask, Russell stood and said in a soft voice, “stay here, I’ll get it.” He laid a gentle hand on Ed’s shoulder, smiling down at him when Ed reached up to place his own hand over Russell's to thank him.

Russell hadn’t yet seen what was in the box so he was pleasantly surprised when the gifts turned out to be intricate mechanical animals that could be wound up to walk around on their own. Each was about the size of his hand and had tiny gears that made soft whirring noises along with the tap-tap-tap of metal feet as it moved.

The children watched in quiet fascination as a lion and an elephant made slow halting steps along the wooden tabletop.

“Where did you find those?” Russell asked in wonderment, relaxing into his chair as Ed draped his arm across the back of it.

“There was a merchant from Xing out on Youswell Island when we stopped there a few months back,” Ed told him with a contented expression, eyes tracking the toys as they moved across the table.

“I’ve never seen anything like them before,” Russell said, watching the little boy turn the lion around as it neared the edge of the table. This was the quietest the children had been since they’d arrived.

“Neither have I,” Ed said. “I thought Winry might appreciate the mechanical aspect.”

He directed this last part to her and Russell saw her give Ed a grateful smile. It immediately softened her features and made her look even younger than she already was. Russell realized that she must hold onto a lot of stress during the day between her work schedule and trying to raise two children.

Thank you, she mouthed at Ed before turning to help her daughter twist the winding key on the toy elephant.


“Is there something else worrying you about tomorrow?” Russell asked gently, once they were back in their room after lunch.

Russell finally gave in and removed his waistcoat, now that the heat had reached a more oppressive level than he had been expecting. He folded it up carefully, trying not to leave creases in the rich, brocaded fabric before tucking it back into this trunk.

One of his braces had almost slipped off his shoulder so he adjusted slightly before glancing over at Ed, who had just looked up from rummaging around in his own trunk.

Russell had been watching Ed carefully during the discussion that morning. Based on Ed’s immediate negative reaction to even the suggestion of an upgrade, Russell suspected that there might be something more to it and that Ed was just using the ship as an excuse.

When Ed let out a defeated sigh and moved over to the bed, slumping down onto it, Russell knew he’d guessed correctly.

“It’s just—” Ed fell back against the pillows, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands. “It might seem simple, getting new limbs installed—”

He trailed off, resting an arm over his eyes, his metal arm dropping heavily onto the mattress.

Russell knew Ed would continue when he was ready, so he laid down next to Ed, turning his body inward and propping his head on his hand, waiting quietly.

Ed slid his arm off his face and rolled onto his side, dropping his forehead against Russell’s chest. Russell automatically pulled him closer and began running a hand lightly along Ed’s back.

“—but it’s still going to hurt—” Ed finally admitted, failing to hide the slight crack of his voice. Russell dropped a light kiss at the edge of Ed’s forehead.

Ed breathed deep, clearly trying to regain his composure. Russell could feel his warm breath seep through his linen shirt.

It must really be bad if Ed was this worried about it. Ed, who Russell had witnessed multiple times over the past two weeks show no outward reaction whatsoever to the chronic pain in his shoulder.

“It won’t be as bad as the original surgery but…” Ed trailed off with a rush of breath.

“… but automail still has to reattach to all of the nerve endings,” Russell continued for him, remembering the diagrams he’d studied exhaustively over the past fortnight.

Russell felt Ed’s forehead brush against his chest as he nodded. Ed was silent for a little while longer after that, but Russell got the impression that he was working up to something, which was confirmed only a moment later.

“We were out in the middle of nowhere, when it happened,” Ed told him in a low, slightly muffled voice, and Russell realized that Ed was about to tell him how he’d lost his arm.

Russell had yet to hear this story. He had decided not to ask about it and instead wait until Ed was ready to tell him. Now appeared to be that time.

“A northern raider snuck up on us in the fog, we hadn’t even seen it. They started firing on us before we could even get the gun crews ready, and I was in full view on deck and—”

Ed sucked in a deep breath at this point and Russell wrapped his arms tighter, resting his chin lightly against the top of Ed’s head.

“If I had been standing just one step further to the right, the shot would have killed me,” Ed’s voice broke after this, and Russell stroked his fingers through Ed’s hair. “I almost died anyway, after.”

“No one on the ship could do the surgery so Al sailed us as fast as we could go to the nearest island with a doctor, all while I was bleeding out below deck,” Ed continued, his face still hidden. “I don’t even remember which island, but it was so small that I was lucky they even had one. But the surgeon only had laudanum, and it barely did anything at all. Winry was scared to give me too much, so I felt everything.”

Ed shuddered a little on the last word. Russell gave a low, comforting hum, already devising a plan in his mind.

“If there’s a hospital or government clinic nearby, I should be able to get something better than laudanum for you,” Russell told him.

Ed finally lifted his head, considering Russell’s words. “There’s a clinic, I think,” he said, a glint of hope in his eyes.

“If they have it available, we could try ether, or even morphia, if you want,” Russell suggested, absentmindedly playing with the ends of Ed’s hair that stuck out of the bottom of his queue. “Winry probably doesn’t have access to those, unless she also has a medical license no one told me about.”

Ed’s eyes widened. “You can really do that?”

Russell nodded. “It’s difficult to get them all the way out on Xenotime but I administered them all the time during my mastery at Central Hospital.”

Ed pulled in a deep breath and stared up at him with something like a mix of gratitude and relief.

“I’ll talk to Winry about it,” Russell told him, shifting onto his back and gently pulling Ed along with him until Ed was laying half on top of him.

Ed draped his arm over Russell’s waist in response, fingers clutched lightly in the fabric of his shirt. He pressed his face to Russell’s chest once more.

Ed’s voice was barely audible when he spoke, but Russell still heard him when he said, in an uneven tone, “thank you.”

Russell brushed back the short pieces of Ed’s hair, the ones that always fell in his face, and placed a soft kiss at the crown of his head.

Ed had only needed some reassurance that things would be different this time and Russell had been glad to give it.


“What do you use for pain during the installation?” Russell asked Winry later that night after dinner.

They were both enjoying a cup of tea at the table as Ed and Al lounged on the couch discussing the papers again.

Winry furrowed her brows in thought.

“Ed told you about his surgeries, didn’t he?” she asked, giving him a curious look.

Russell nodded and Winry sighed, placing her mug down on the table in front of her with a soft thunk.

“Those were unique cases,” Winry told him, sounding pained. “I would have given him something better, if I’d had it but we were out on the open ocean both times. It was… unfortunate timing.”

“He’s worried about it,” Russell said, letting his concern seep into his voice, “so I want to make sure he’s as comfortable as it’s possible to be.”

Winry nodded, looking relieved.

“I usually use morphia,” Winry explained. “Granny still has her license, so she orders it, administers it for me, and then helps with the installation.”

Winry tilted her head and gave Russell a considering look. “If it would make Ed feel better, you could do it instead, if you want.”

“I’d do anything for him,” Russell let out in a rush of breath over the rim of his mug, not knowing what made him say it out loud. Was it reassurance for Winry? Or for himself?

“I’m starting to see that,” Winry commented with a twist of her lips. She picked up her mug again and gave him an appraising look.

Russell already knew, even though they'd only been together for a short time, that Ed was the type of person who inspired loyalty. It was a good trait for a ship's captain to have. Winry would undoubtedly know this about Ed, as well.

They seemed to have both reached an agreement to make sure that Ed wouldn’t have anything to worry about. It was kind of nice, Russell thought, to know they were both on the same page concerning Ed’s welfare.

“This is going to bankrupt me!” came a voice from the couch and both he and Winry startled slightly at the exclamation, looking over to see Ed fall back against the cushions with a harsh sigh.

“Brother, stop being so dramatic,” Al replied sensibly, clearly used to this sort of complaint. “All you have to do is sell those tapestries and we’ll be fine.”

Russell hid his smile by taking a sip from his mug, listening in on the rest of their amusing conversation.

“But those tapestries tell an important part of our history!” Ed countered, sounding particularly affronted that Al would even suggest it.

“And the salt is already damaging them,” Al replied, matching his tone. Then, “Sheska said Central Museum might be interested in buying them, then they can be restored and put on display so everyone can enjoy them.”

“Ugh,” Ed groaned, dropping his head down against the back of the couch. “Why do you always have to be right?”

Russell chuckled softly, watching as Al grabbed the closest pillow in triumph and leaned over to hit Ed with it, a move which Ed responded to with a loud, “hey!”

This quickly devolved into shouting laughter as Ed tried to grab it from him, which led to the appearance of Granny at the back door, a basket on her arm. She took one look at Ed and Al, who paused guiltily, before letting out a put upon sigh as she crossed the room.

“Children,” she scoffed before she disappeared back into the kitchen.


Winry set Ed up on a raised operating bed over in one corner of the workshop. The entire area had been hidden behind curtains the day before so Russell had missed it but had been pleased to find everything arranged like operating and recovery rooms in a hospital. Apparently, Granny had been the one in charge of planning this half of the workshop.

Russell sat on the edge of the bed where Ed was propped up with pillows. He glanced down at the vial in his hand before looking back up at Ed.

“Are you ready?” Russell asked. “It will take about half an hour before you start to notice the effects.”

Ed nodded, reaching out for Russell’s free hand, gripping it tightly.

“Guess this is actually happening, then."

Ed's tone was light but Russell could tell he was using it to try and hide some of his apprehension.

“I’ll be here the entire time,” Russell assured him, trying not to focus too hard on the low flutter in his stomach.

His nervousness wasn't concerning, he’d expected it, in fact, and always took it as a sign that he wouldn’t get careless about his work. He’d always associated a lack of nerves with a lack of caring.

“I know,” Ed replied, eyes softening around the edges. “That helps.”

Russell squeezed Ed’s hand in response before letting go and shifting a little closer. He loosened the dropper from the vial and drew up the exact amount he had calculated earlier, based on Ed’s weight without metal limbs.

Ed dropped his jaw and Russell leaned in, placing the drops of liquid under Ed’s tongue before sitting back and twisting the dropper back onto the vial. He set it down gently on the rolling tray next to the bed, the glass clicking softly against metal, echoing slightly in the large space.

Russell turned back to Ed and laid a hand along his jaw, running his thumb across his cheek. He leaned over and dropped a soft kiss to Ed’s forehead before pulling away.

“I hope the rest of your patients don’t get this kind of special treatment,” Ed commented in his usual flippant manner and Russell let out a short laugh, his eyes flicking downward briefly.

“No, just the one,” Russell replied, looking back up at Ed and feeling his lips twitch into a fond smile.

“Alright, enough flirting,” Winry said, sounding stern as she pushed aside the curtain with an impatient wave of her arm. But the hint of a smile gave her away.

Russell dropped his hand and stood, fidgeting with one of his sleeves, before rolling it up and mentally switching his mindset into work mode.

Winry was dressed comfortably in a shirt, waistcoat, and britches with a leather apron over all of it, an exact match to the one Russell was wearing.

She rolled a large tray of tools in behind her and then rearranged a stool, settling in next to Ed’s leg. She looked up at Russell.

“We have work to do.”


“The sea…” Ed said faintly, eyes still slightly glassy.

Russell was sitting on the edge of the bed again, leaning over him, Ed’s left wrist gripped in his hand as he checked his pulse.

“What about the sea?” Russell asked, unable to stop the amused grin from spreading across his face.

“Your eyes,” Ed continued, apparently just aware enough to have heard Russell. “Like the sea.”

Russell’s grin got impossibly wider. “You charmer,” Russell laughed low, gently laying Ed’s arm to rest across his stomach and wrapping his fingers around Ed’s hand.

“How are you feeling?” Russell took the opportunity to ask because this was most alert Ed had been since before the surgery.

“Fantastic,” Ed said, in a dreamy tone, eyes falling shut again.

Russell thought Ed might have fallen asleep again, so he stood and went over to the basin to wet a cloth with cool water.

When Russell started lightly running the cloth over Ed’s face, Ed’s eyes shot open, and Russell pulled his hand away.

 Ed looked dazedly around the room.

“Where’s Winry?” he asked in slurred confusion.

“She went to find Al,” Russell told him, refolding the cloth and patting it along the side of his face. “I need his help to get you back to the house.”

“You’re done?” Ed’s tone was both hopeful and perplexed.

“Mm-hmm,” Russell murmured. “You slept through most of it.”

Ed didn’t reply as he had just caught sight of his new arm resting at his side on top of the bed sheet. He studied it silently, appearing a bit more attentive than he had been just a moment ago.

Russell sat back and watched as Ed slowly lifted his arm a few inches off the bed. He was cautious about it, like he was testing the weight, but he seemed steady enough as he twisted his arm slightly, first one way then the other, before setting it back down again.

Winry said she was going check Ed’s range of motion in a couple days after he was feeling better, but Russell was pleased to see that it was already responding like it was supposed to.

“Feels strange,” Ed commented distantly, staring down at his hand and flexing his fingers.

“Are you ready to sit up?” Russell asked, standing to set the cloth aside.

Ed nodded and Russell helped him upright, one hand at his back and the other under his left arm. They must have moved too quickly because Ed clamped his eyes shut and said, “wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Russell asked, stilling their movement.

“Room is spinning.” Ed placed his hand down on the bed as though to stabilize himself.

Russell used one hand to prop up the pillows behind Ed and helped him slowly lean back against them, Ed’s eyes still shut tight. He sank back with a sigh of relief, gripping Russell’s hand.

“I feel sick,” Ed groaned suddenly, hunching in on himself and breathing hard.

Russell had quick reflexes for things like this and grabbed the metal basin he’d left close by. He managed to set it on Ed’s lap just as Ed started retching.

Russell bent over and pulled back some of Ed’s loose hair before running a hand in circles on his back with the other.

When Ed was done, he made a sort of defeated sound and said, “sorry you had to see that.”

Russell smiled to himself as his hand kept up its comforting motion. “Trust me, I’ve seen much worse. This is nothing.”

Ed wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and Russell carefully lifted the basin, bringing it over to a metal stand, and draping a cloth over the top.

“It’s just a side effect, it will go away once everything is completely out of your system,” Russell informed him, filling a glass with water from the ewer.

“I hate it,” Ed commented, slouching back against his pillows again and reaching for the glass when Russell handed it to him.

Russell stood watch over him to make sure he drank the whole thing. Dehydration was another side effect.

“Are you in any pain?” he asked.

“Might be wearing off,” Ed said slowly with a small frown as he handed the glass back to Russell. Ed’s left arm began to shake at the effort, so Russell grabbed it from him before Ed dropped it on the floor.

“I’ll wean you off of it,” Russell told him, “so hopefully it won’t be as bad.”

By the time Winry returned with Al in tow, Ed’s dizziness had faded enough that he felt like he could move without setting it off again.

They’d had a discussion that morning before the surgery about Ed’s recovery. Ed had insisted on being moved back to their bedroom as soon as possible because he didn’t like how cold and impersonal the hospital bed felt.

Actually getting him there turned out to be a bit more difficult.

Ed’s legs hadn’t been able to hold him up very well and he had very little control over them but, between Russell and Al, they managed to get him into a wheelchair, outside, up the ramp, and into the house.

All the exertion had tired Ed out, though, so he fell back asleep as soon as they got him in bed.

Al stayed long enough to make sure Ed was comfortable before he started packing up to head back into the city.

A few hours later, Al came in once more to say goodbye before he left. Luckily, Ed happened to be awake again and mostly lucid, enough so that he noticed Al holding a kitten.

“Not another one,” Ed said in a slightly slurred voice.

Russell looked up at this from where he was filling another glass with water and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He’d heard all about Al’s obsession with cats and suspected he might be using Ed’s inebriated state to sneak another one onboard.

“Puffy is getting old and needs a friend,” Al insisted, scratching the kitten between the ears.

“…there’re rats bigger than it…” Ed grumbled, still sounding a bit drowsy.

Russell rounded the bed to Ed’s side and helped him sit up to take a few sips of water.

Russell looked back over at Al, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t known the name of the ship’s cat until just now.

“Did you already name this one?” Russell asked him warily, because that was definitely something Fletcher had done when they were kids.

“Puffy junior,” Al said simply. “See you in a few days, brother. Feel better soon!” He said this in an overly cheerful manner, then turned back around and hastily left the room before either of them could ask more questions.

Ed picked up his new arm, tried to wave, but evidently forgot to account for the change in weight and nearly fell sideways off the bed before Russell caught him.

“Maybe try not to move too much just yet,” Russell told him, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Mm,” was all Ed managed to say before collapsing back against the pillows, eyes falling closed.

Russell brushed a few loose strands of hair out of Ed’s face and pulled a blanket up over him.


Ed was draped over Russell’s chest, head resting against his shoulder with Russell’s arms wrapped loosely around him.

Russell’s right hand was lazily brushing fingertips down Ed’s bare side to his hip and back up again, the other hand tracing invisible lines along the shining metal surface of Ed’s new arm and occasionally intertwining their fingers, flesh and metal alike.

Russell felt more than heard Ed’s low hum at the back of his throat and watched as his eyelids fluttered shut in contentment.

They’d both been awake for a while now, lying in bed together the day after Ed’s surgery and enjoying a simple, quiet morning.

Their solitude was soon interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.

Ed let out a distinctly disappointed sigh and Russell responded with one of his own, helping Ed roll slowly over onto his back before slipping out of bed.

Russell had fallen asleep in his shirt and britches last night without meaning to, the activities of the day making him nearly as tired as Ed had been.

He plucked his robe up from the back of the chair and slipped it on before going to answer the door.

Russell was expecting Winry or Granny and was instead surprised into silence by the presence of a young woman he hadn’t met before standing just outside their door.

She was holding a tea tray and had a bland, impassive expression on her face, one that Russell recognized from serving staff he’d encountered in the past.

Russell was suddenly very aware that his sleep rumpled state was the first impression this stranger would have of him.

“Who are you?” Ed asked from the bed, pulling Russell out of his distracted observations and filling the awkward silence.

“I’m Noah, sir,” the woman said with a shallow bobbing curtsy. The china on the tray never even rattled. “The housemaid.”

Russell glanced back at Ed who looked just as bemused as Russell felt.

Winry suddenly appeared behind Noah. “Go on in,” she said kindly, and Noah entered and set the tray on the dresser, the only surface in the room large and flat enough for it. She immediately busied herself with the teapot.

Russell wrapped his robe tighter around himself to hide his wrinkled shirt and tried to surreptitiously neaten his hair. He always felt wrong-footed when people he didn’t know saw him as anything other than well put together.

Winry stepped into the room and perched on the end of the bed. Russell noted that she was wearing her work clothes again.

“Since when do you have a maid?” Ed asked, incredulous, as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Since business picked up and neither of us has much time to take care of the house,” Winry said pointedly, like she was just daring Ed to make another comment about it.

“Huh,” was all he said as he slumped back against the pillows. “That many new clients?”

“Word of mouth travels fast,” Winry commented, sounding pleased with herself. “My only real competition are the LeCoultes but they’re all the way out on Rush Island, so…” she trailed off with a shrug and a smug smile.

“Here you are, sir,” Noah said as she brought over a cup of tea for Ed. He reached for it gratefully and Russell was relieved to see how steady his right arm was.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I have appointments all day,” Winry explained. “So ask Noah if you need anything.”

Ed nodded shortly before taking a small sip.

Russell was startled slightly when Noah stuck a teacup and saucer in front of him, as well.

He wasn’t used to being around household staff, but thought it might be helpful to have her assistance while he took care of Ed.

And she made an excellent cup of tea.


It turned out that Noah had also been instructed to strip the beds and gather up all the laundry.

Which meant that he and Ed had been turned out of their room for the time being after Noah had politely hinted that they would only get in her way otherwise.

They were currently sitting on a bench out behind the house, enjoying the fresh air in a shaded part of the yard. Ed was leaning against his side and Russell had taken the opportunity to drape an arm across his shoulders.

It was pleasant where they were, not as nice as their morning in bed, but it would do.

They had a good view of the grazing animals, the children had been sent off to school, so it was much quieter, and Ed had been steadier on his feet when Russell had helped him outside.

Russell had made one of his custom willow bark and ginger tea blends for Ed who was carefully sipping at it. He was using a sturdy mug this time, after he had almost dropped his teacup earlier.

“When do you want to try a longer walk?” Russell asked Ed as they watched the chickens pecking around for grains.

Ed didn’t answer right away but instead stretched out his new leg. Ed hadn’t bothered with boots, so the metal work was on full display and Russell thought he might be admiring it.

“Maybe after lunch,” he mused, swinging his leg out and back a little. “And a nap.”

“An afternoon nap?” Russell asked in a low approving drawl. “How decadent.”

Ed turned his face up to him and smirked. “It would be more than just a nap if I wasn’t so tired.”

Russell gave Ed an appraising look. “Is that so?”

Ed hummed low and leaned in closer, and Russell could feel his breath skate along the edge of his jaw.

“Once I start feeling better, I’ll be able to ravish you properly.”

Russell raised his eyebrows at the intensity behind Ed’s tone but, before he could reply, they were interrupted by a “sir?”

Noah’s voice drifted over from the back door and they both turned to watch as she stepped down onto the lawn, holding a large envelope in her hand. “This just came for you.”

Russell cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping the shade hid some of the flush he felt on his cheeks.

Ed sat up and wordlessly handed his mug to Russell, making no acknowledgement of how flustered he had just made him.

Ed gave a curious tilt of his head and reached for the letter. “Thank you, Noah,” he said, too distracted by examining the looping script on the back to look up at her.

She gave another short curtsy and headed back into the house.

“What is it?” Russell asked, leaning in and catching sight of the formal writing addressed to Captain Elric. “That can’t be from your brother.”

Ed shook his head and turned the letter over to inspect the seal. He felt Ed tense as soon as he recognized it. “It’s from the admiralty.”

Ed slipped a thumbnail under the wax, popping it open, and carefully unfolded the page.

Russell frowned at the use of such an overly extravagant script. Who needed that many flourishes for a simple letter?

Ed sighed. “I’ve been invited to another ball.”

His movements were a bit more violent as he refolded the letter.

“You get invited to those a lot?” Russell asked, brow furrowed.

“It’s not so much an invitation,” Ed commented, running his thumb over the raised edges of the embossed seal, “more of a summons. If I’m in port, then I’m expected to attend.”

He dropped the letter down onto the bench beside him and slumped back into Russell who started tracing his fingertips along the curve of Ed’s shoulder.

This must be another thing related to his deal with the Commodore, Russell thought, because he knew Ed didn’t have anything against dancing.

“These things are always so stuffy and formal,” Ed complained. “I have to pretend I’m enjoying myself while I make small talk with other captains who don’t consider me the same rank as themselves just because I’m not a naval officer.”

Ed gave a rueful laugh. “I usually make Al go with me,” he went on, “but he hates it more than I do.”

“I could go with you,” Russell offered without even needing to consider it.

If Ed was obligated to attend, maybe Russell could at least try to make the whole thing more bearable for him. Or at least, keep him distracted enough to not dwell on how much he hated it.

Ed leaned back and started up at Russell, blinking at him a couple times. “It will be really boring.”

“I used to go to these sorts of parties all the time, back when I worked at the hospital,” Russell informed him. “It was mostly to make professional connections, but they all function the same way.”

“You’d really go with me,” Ed asked flatly, disbelief showing clearly on his face.

“Of course,” Russell shrugged. “I can do all the talking, so you don’t have to. Then, when you’ve been there long enough to make an appearance, I can tell everyone you’re still not feeling well and need to leave early.”

Ed seemed to perk up a little at this plan. “Genius,” Ed declared, reaching up to rest a hand on Russell’s chest, eyes fixed firmly on his.

“When is it?” Russell asked, letting himself sink into the warmth of Ed’s gaze.

“At the end of the week, the night before we sail out,” Ed replied, still watching him closely.

“What if we go back to the city a day early?” Russell suggested, quickly formulating another plan to keep Ed from troubling himself about the ball.

Ed tilted his head again, puzzled. “Why?”

“I believe I promised to show you around,” Russell said simply.

Ed hummed thoughtfully, clearly intrigued by this suggestion. “Alright then,” he whispered, “take me out on the town.”

Ed slid his hand up to brush across Russell’s jaw then around to the back of his neck. He gently guided Russell’s head down and then leaned up to meet him, their lips brushing lightly before Ed coaxed them apart further. Ed held Russell’s head steady as he thoroughly explored his mouth.

Russell let himself relax into it and otherwise allowed Ed to dictate the pace.

When Ed pulled back just enough to look at him, Russell asked, in a pleased tone, “you’re not too tired for this, then?”

“Never,” Ed murmured, sinking his fingers deeper into Russell’s hair before leaning back in.


Russell’s eyes shot open, and he sucked in a deep breath, blinking rapidly as the view of the bedroom slowly came into focus. Ed’s warm presence next to him helped to remind him where he was, and he tried to remain still so as not to disturb him.

Breathing hard, he stared up at the ceiling, feeling the bed sway under him as though he was still on the ship. He clenched his fingers in the sheet draped over him and tried to slacken his breathing, making each inhale deep and each exhale slow.

They were leaving later that morning, and Russell wanted to make sure he got enough rest. He closed his eyes again, hoping to fall back to sleep but, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t get the vision of blood out of his mind.

And that was the most concerning part. The sight of blood had never bothered him before.

He felt his heart rate pick up again as he suddenly realized why he’d woken, stray fragments of memory playing through his mind—the grip of a hand around his throat, suffocation, the terror of not knowing if Ed was safe, the slashing motion, then, lunge, stab, blood, and Russell took in a sharp gasp, his chest heaving involuntarily.

Ed made a noise in his sleep and Russell rolled his head to the side to look at him. Ed was turned away, but his back was pressed up all along Russell’s side, the bones of his spine shadowed by the faint pre-dawn glow coming in through the window.

Ed would probably wake soon, his ship-based schedule not changing much while on land.

Russell inched his way carefully to the side of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, the sheet pooling in his lap. The tendrils of a cool breeze drifted in through the open window and Russell sighed in quiet relief as it settled across his bare, overheated skin.

He hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

He was still hesitant to close his eyes for too long, so he stared at the floor instead, breathing a bit more evenly now. He still felt restless, though, like he needed to get up and do something although he didn’t know what.

Russell found he couldn’t fight the impulse and snatched up his robe from the foot of the bed. He shrugged it on, tying the sash loosely around his waist, and slipped into his house shoes.

He didn’t get far, though. He’d only taken a few steps before one of the floorboards creaked loudly under his foot. He heard the soft rustle of sheets as Ed rolled over in bed.

“Russ?” he asked, voice drowsy with the confusion of half sleep. “Why are you up?”

Russell spun around feeling inexplicably guilty, like he’d gotten caught trying to sneak out but, that was a ridiculous thought. He was too old to need to sneak anywhere.

He had just felt the need to get up and wander and couldn’t even explain it to himself right now.

Russell shook his head absentmindedly, making several attempts to put his thoughts in order before giving up and instead wrapping his arms around his stomach.

There were too many feelings and images flitting through his mind all at once to make any semblance of a reply.

Ed immediately caught on to his distress and sat up quickly, eyes wide with worry.

Russell could tell that Ed wanted to come to him, he’d even made an unsteady movement to climb out of bed before dropping a hand to the mattress to support himself.

Instead, Ed reached out to him.

“Come back to bed,” he said gently into the early morning air and something in his tone brought a little bit of Russell back to himself.

He sunk sideways onto the bed, still wrapped up in himself, eyes downcast. He felt the bed move as Ed shifted closer. A warm hand brushed lightly across his cheek; Ed’s sailor callouses catching on the faint stubble along Russell jaw.

Russell drew in a surprised breath as the rough touch caused an abrupt arrival into full reality.

“Lie down,” Ed whispered to him, guiding him to rest his head on Ed’s lap.

Russell curled in tighter, letting Ed’s comforting warmth seep into him.

Ed lightly combed his fingers through Russell’s hair, grounding him and, even though he felt himself relaxing into Ed’s touch, he still didn’t let himself close his eyes.

Sleep was elusive.

Notes:

I had to do a deep dive into the installation mechanics of automail (because I wanted to add some hurt/comfort to this chapter haha) and I found a super helpful post from 2005 that speculates on this topic.

I think the consensus is that it’s painful to take the limbs off and on even though I vaguely remember that happening often? It’s been a while since I watched FMA though, so I could be misremembering.

Fun fact: morphine/morphia was first isolated from opium around 1804. Hypodermic syringes weren’t invented until the 1850s, so they’re using a liquid version (and also, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that Ed hates needles?? Honestly, same).

Puffy is the name of a cat from an old FMA role-play that I’ve snuck into as many RussEd fics as I can get away with. It’s turned into a running joke, by this point.

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