For Merith, who donated to the tsunami relief fund and requested this.
"WHO'S TOO SHORT TO BE SEEN BY A MICROSCOPE?!"
The outraged shriek was clearly audible even through two walls and a door. Alphonse, passing the time outside the office in conversation with Havoc, winced and then sighed. Probably people halfway across the base would have heard that, and be making remarks behind Niisan's back all week.
Havoc shrugged sympathetically, unlit cigarette making a circuit of his mouth. "Better than last time � he only lasted five minutes then."
"I'm sure the Colonel doesn't help." Al shifted his metal shoulders uncomfortably. He'd reminded his brother to remember his manners before the train had even arrived last night, and again before they set out this afternoon. It was becoming embarrassing to have to physically restrain Edward from removing the heads of innocent passers-by who happened to mention the word 'short'. And the tailor this morning� there might have been murder if Al hadn't gotten Ed out of the shop in time.
"Oh, he does it on purpose," Havoc assured him with rolled eyes. He'd probably have said more, but the crash of wood hitting plastered brick interrupted him. Al, already turning in anticipation, thought it was a wonder that Niisan hadn't just come through the door, he was so steaming mad.
"Al!" Edward jerked his head at his brother, stomping off down the corridor with his face the colour of ripe tomatoes and his eyes narrowed to slits. "We have research to do!" Alphonse bowed hastily to Havoc � and First Lieutenant Hawkeye, who had appeared in the doorway to fix her subordinate with a gimlet eye � and hurried after his brother, silently hoping that no one would try to get in Edward's way.
"Niisan, what research?" he asked once he'd caught up. Edward was making for the library as though he expected to be stopped, making Al glad for once that he didn't have to do things like breathe.
Edward glowered at nothing, and a passing secretary squeaked and almost jumped out of their way. "I've had all I can take of that damn smug bastard looking down at me," he ground out, not looking around as they descended the stairs towards the main gate out into the city.
Smug bastard � the Colonel� Al came to a sudden halt, fisting one glove in the back of his brother's coat. "Niisan � you don't mean to do anything bad to the Colonel!" After all, a traitorous little voice murmured deep down in his mind, he's probably the only officer who'd put up with you�
"I wish." Ed snarled at nothing, reaching back with his gloved metal hand to pry his coat from Al's fingers. Al let him go with a certain amount of reluctance, relieved that at least in the library Edward would be unlikely to cause too much of a fuss.
Ed dropped his voice as they walked beneath the huge stone arch of the main doors, under the tight-lipped gaze of the elderly woman at the desk. "No, I'm damned well just going to have to get taller." He spat the word as though it were poisoned, and Al rolled his eyes again, wondering if it was allowable for an atheist alchemist to pray for patience.
It had been the tailor this morning that had started it; Colonel Mustang's provocation had just been the icing on the cake. They'd stopped by the store to get Ed some more clothes � he was hell on even the sturdiest fabrics, and there were only so many times one could transmute ripped and frayed garments whole again. Niisan had been riffling through a rack of shirts when one of the tailors had come up and rather condescendingly suggested that he should try the children's section if he wanted to find something that fit. Only Al's quick reactions had prevented bloodshed after the man looked Ed up and down snootily and recommended the under-tens' section.
He realised, with a far-too-familiar sinking feeling that surely ought to have been lost with his real body, that Ed was heading straight for the alchemical section of the non-fiction shelves. This library wasn't anywhere near as complete as Central's, but it housed an adequate selection of books on most subjects.
"Niisan," he whispered, plucking nervously at the strap of his armour's loincloth. "You can't mean�"
Plainly, his tone of voice was enough to communicate to his brother exactly what subject he was broaching. "Of course not!" Edward hissed, hands busy grabbing books at seemingly random. "The only time I will ever use that again is to fix you." He shoved a stack of books at Al, their spines thumping hollowly against his chest plate. "If we ever find the Stone, though � think I could transmute myself taller?"
Al winced; Niisan had that look in his eye again, the one that said he was contemplating something evil. Probably imagining himself fifty feet tall and stomping on Colonel Mustang, Al thought morosely. He made a mental note to oversee his brother's restoration himself.
"The Colonel would laugh," he whispered back, conscious of one of the librarians passing the end of the row of shelves.
"Huh." Ed glowered for a moment, then grabbed his own pile of books, heading over to a carrel. "There has to be a reason why some things are taller than others. You take animals, I'll do plants."
Al, with great effort, refrained from mentioning watering, sunshine or fertiliser, instead sitting down on one of the wobbly wooden chairs and spreading out the books Niisan had given him. There was Barnett's treatise on the alchemical principles of animal bodies, several volumes of an alchemist's bestiary, one on chimeras, and � he shuddered in memory � the familiar red-leather cover of Sturbot's seminal work on the alchemical components of living species. They'd studied that, back� before. Sighing silently, he opened each volume to the table of contents and bent to his work.
With a sudden groan, Edward slammed shut a heavy volume, leaning back in his seat and stretching. Al started at the sound, loud in the hushed precincts of the library, and looked up. "Did you find anything, Niisan?" Personally, he doubted it, but there was little he could do to dissuade his brother when Ed got a bee in his bonnet about something.
"Only that plants need ammonia, potash and phosphorus to grow properly." Ed scowled down at the books. "You?"
"Um, Sturbot says that size doesn't matter; the ratio of substances that make up the body doesn't change between individuals in a species." If he'd been able, Al would have frowned in distaste. The ancient alchemist had described his experiments in far too vivid detail; he was quite glad he didn't have a stomach any more. "According to Barnett, the necessities for growth are lime, iron, and animal protein. He goes off into a mystical thing about the fight between man and beast, and the victor being strengthened by the flesh of the loser."
Edward frowned. "So if I eat lots of meat�?"
Al cracked. He couldn't help it; the words had been building in his mind all afternoon, and now they seemed determined to escape. "You should drink your milk, Niisan. That's why you're so� small." He swallowed the word 'short' by the narrowest of margins, but it didn't help. Ed was on his feet, fists banging on the wood of the desk with two distinct thuds, flesh and metal.
"I am not drinking any fucking cow juice, damn it!"
"Ahem." The dry cough had all the force of a gunshot. Ed started, and Al, huge shoulders hunched guiltily, looked up into the stern face of the iron-bunned head librarian.
"Damned prune-face old hag," Ed was muttering as they made their way back to the dorms, Al carrying the single book they had been permitted to check out. "Now what am I supposed to do?" He had his shoulders hunched, automail hand flexing, and was kicking at the paving slabs, plainly in no hurry. It was just twilight, darkness arriving early this late in the year, and the street lamps were being lit.
Al frowned, attention caught by the play of lamplight on the metal curves of his brother's right hand. Edward always been a little small for his age � that aversion to milk again, and for a while as a child he had refused to eat any dairy products at all � but after he'd had the automail installed, he'd barely grown at all. At least in an upwards direction; Al recalled all too well the struggles of a skinny eleven-year-old boy to master his heavy new limbs, the countless hours of exercising, building up enough muscle to be able to do even such simple things as stand up straight and walk� There was no denying that Ed had a lot of muscle on that small frame�
"Niisan," he interrupted his brother's mutterings thoughtfully, "maybe it's the automail."
"Huh?" Ed stopped in the middle of the street, turned to stare up at him, and Al had to pull him out of the way of an oncoming car that honked indignantly. Ed ignored it. "What do you mean, Al?"
"Maybe it's stunting you � it's not usual to have to deal with all that extra weight at such a young age. We should call Granny Pinako and Winry, to ask."
"You think?" Ed looked down at his outstretched arm as though he'd never see it before. He, like Al himself, bore his metal uncomplaining, most of the time; it was their penance. Alphonse wondered if that would hold true even if Ed discovered that the automail was inhibiting his growth. "Maybe they might not know, though � not like they get a load of kids as customers, after all."
"But Niisan, who else do we know to ask?" Al pointed out, reasonably enough, he thought. "Come on, we can use the phone in the hallway before dinner."
"Dinner?" Ed perked up, turning back to face the dark, square buildings of the Eastern HQ. Lights were blazing out from the commissary, set low and grey between the offices and the dormitories. "Maybe we should eat dinner first�"
"Telephone," Al said firmly, taking hold of the back of his brother's coat and marching him in the direction of their room.
"Resenbul 4561, please."
"One moment�"
"Rockbell Automail; how can we help you?"
"Hello Winry�"
"Al! How are you, we haven't heard from you in ages. Ed didn't break his automail again, did he?"
"Oh no! We're both fine � we're in East City right now, but the Colonel will probably give Niisan another mission soon. How are you and Grandma?"
"Oh, we're both well. Got a new customer last week � a man from one of the outer farms lost a foot to his threshing machine."
"Bad luck for him, but good luck for you."
"Haha. Oh, I shouldn't laugh, really�"
"Don't worry, Winry. Um � can I ask you a question? Only Niisan's got into another mood about his height again."
"Is he there? I bet he's glaring at you just for saying that, huh? What did you want to know?"
"Oh � we were just wondering whether it's possible that the automail could have been stunting his growth � stop pulling faces, Niisan!"
"Tell him I can mend his manners with a wrench if he likes."
"Hold on a minute � Winry says she's going to get you with her wrench the next time we see her, Niisan."
"About the automail � oh, there you are, Grandma! It's Al; he wants to know if Ed's staying short because of the 'mail."
(indistinct muttering)
"Al? Hello? Are you still there?"
"I'm here, Winry."
"Oh good. Well, Grandma says that the weight of the metal might cause a very slight reduction in growth, but there've been no documented cases of it causing problems. Ed has been growing, anyway � we have to make adjustments every time you guys come home."
"Oh, I know, but it's never as much as he'd like. He's got it into his head that he's going to get taller, no matter what � I said stop that, Niisan! Your face will stick like that. I'm half afraid he's going to try to get me to stretch him or something, next thing."
"Haha. I can just see you dangling him upside down by one foot�"
"Hahaha� I think I have once or twice, actually, when he's gotten into something. Actually� Winry, do you remember what height Niisan was, the last time we were home?"
"Huh? Um, five feet one inch, I think. That was what, six months ago?"
"About that, I think. Listen, I have to go � someone else wants to use the telephone, and Niisan's about to fidget himself to death. Thank you very much for your help, Winry."
"It was nothing, Al. Grandma sends her love, too, and we'll hope to see you soon � for other reasons than Ed needing an emergency mechanic."
"Us too. Bye, Winry."
"Bye, Al�"
"Half a goddamned inch!" Ed's voice was outraged as he collected his dinner tray from the orderly and stomped over to their customary corner table. Al followed suit; the food here wasn't all that great, but Niisan could always be counted on to go that extra portion. Today Al had made sure to pick a meat dish, for the protein.
"Six months!" Ed flung himself into a seat and continued ranting, expressive face screwed up in disgust. "Half an inch in six months! It's not fair!"
"It's better than nothing," Al pointed out quietly, sitting with his back to the rest of the commissary so that no one would realise he wasn't actually eating.
"It's ridiculous." Ed glowered some more, taking a bite of his sausage and chewing it as though it had done something particularly unpleasant to him. "Maybe stretching me would work..."
"No." Al shook his head firmly, ignoring the miffed glare. "Think about it, Niisan," he muttered under his breath. "The automail would make you lopsided."
Ed choked abruptly on a green bean, and Al reached around, patting his back helpfully. "I'm surprised your left leg isn't growing more than the right as it is, with all that weight."
"Hmph." Ed opened his mouth to say more, but his eyes widened suddenly, focused on a point somewhere over Al's shoulder. Al started to turn, but was halted by a hand thrusting a small paper square beneath his nose.
"Look!" Lieutenant Colonel Hughes crowed. "Isn't she beautiful? She's grown a whole three inches in the last two months!"
A peculiar growling sound from across the table startled him into looking up, and Al too the opportunity to scoot back from the table slightly. If Niisan was going to blow up�
It obviously took him a lot of effort, but Edward seemed to get his temper under control after a moment, metal fingers clenched so hard about his fork that it was in danger of disintegrating as he went back to chewing his dinner viciously.
Hughes exchanged a perplexed look with Al. "What's with him?"
Alphonse sighed wearily � he had been surprised to find out that the lack of a body didn't make him any less tired at the end of the day. "Colonel Mustang was teasing him about his height again."
"Oh." Hughes shuffled a pack of photographs as though they were cards. "You know," he glanced at Ed, and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Roy couldn't have been much more than an inch or so taller than you, when he was fifteen."
That got Ed's attention, all right. The fork � only slightly bent, Al was relieved to note � clattered to the table, and he stared at Hughes in disbelief. "Mustang used to be short?" he demanded, mirth already playing about the corners of his mouth.
"Oh yes." Hughes grinned in memory. "He didn't hit his growth spurt until he turned seventeen. Used to get ragged on something dreadful at the academy, too."
Ed said nothing, but his expression promised that dreadful things were going to happen, and the Fullmetal Alchemist was going to love every minute of it. Al groaned quietly, covering his face with one hand.
"You shouldn't make such a fuss about it, anyway," Hughes was telling his brother kindly. "That's half the reason Roy gives you grief. Besides, you know what they say about short men!"
Al choked on a mortified giggle, wondering if he'd actually just heard Hughes say that. No, he had � the man was grinning exactly the same way he had that time he'd suggested Ed had a crush on Winry, of all people. Ed seemed to be the only one who didn't get the point � he was staring at the two of them as if they'd grown a spare head apiece.
"Well, Al might, but I don't," he remarked suspiciously, plainly of the opinion that the aphorism in question was probably derogatory. "Do I want to?"
"Believe me, Edward." Hughes had somehow managed to keep a straight face; he slung a companionable arm around Edward's shoulders, turning him away from the rest of the room. "When girls refer to your size, they're not talking about your height."
Al closed his eyes tightly, blushing so hard that his faceplate turned pink, and wished himself anywhere else.