"No." His voice was flat. His face went as blank and expressionless as his voice. This was the last straw. He thought he had been more than obliging during the last few hours but now he was exhausted. He wanted to go to bed, his shoulder was killing him and he had had enough of 'girl-Ed' to last him the rest of the week. There was an almost evil glint in Winry's eye as she gestured at the table and he was not about to give in to Winry's little torture-fest.
"Ed." Winry pulled out her wrench.
He merely looked at her and repeated "No."
"But you have to Ed. All girls need to know…"
"This one doesn't, Winry." Ed's tone was determined. "Clothes I can understand and accept and my hair, even I can see the need for learning different styles for that, but makeup… no."
"But what if you get dressed up…"
"No. Winry, I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I realise that you and Granny are being really helpful about this whole situation and I am very thankful but I'm just not ready for this yet." And never will be he added silently.
Pinako and Al watched from the other side of the room. Pinako smiled. Here was the mature Ed she had seen the other day. One who faced the world with an honesty and a self-determination that nothing could deny. Ed was still feeling her way through this, her new world order – and she was going to do it on her own terms and no-one else's. Winry was not going to win this one, she just didn't know it yet.
Al was having a different problem. It had started the very moment he had seen Ed in that first dress. Ever since Ed's return, Al had known of the gender change. He had seen the differences in Ed's gait and form and heard it every time in his voice. But that dress. Thin straps to a draping neckline had revealed a long elegant line to Ed's neck and throat, slim shoulders had tapered to an even slimmer waist and the material had flared over slender hips to fall against two very shapely legs. With the waist length golden hair and the fine delicate facial features - that was the moment of Al's epiphany. That was the moment theory and cerebral understanding transmuted into emotional recognition and attachment. Ed was a girl, Ed was his brother. Brother became Sister.
"I have a sister." He murmured the same words he had used that first night but this time it was one of acceptance, of acknowledgement. He walked across the room straight through the continuing argument and put his arms around her, his sister.
"Sister" was all he said as he hugged her close. Ed looked rather startled but he heard the unspoken thoughts in Al's voice. They had always been able to convey so much to each other with very few words and this was no exception. Al said 'Sister' but Ed heard a fading echo of 'Brother' and understood all the meanings behind it.
He wrapped his arms around Al and replied simply "Yes."
Ed was kept in his room for the next three days. Pinako would allow him to come down stairs for meals but the rest of the time he was confined to bed. He spent the time sleeping, reading Al's notes and doing his therapy.
Winry got around his refusal to have anything to do with makeup by teaching him how to style his hair. Then she and Pinako decided that braiding his hair would be good therapy for him, especially French braiding. Ed would sit in front of the mirror and try to get the strands collected in even segments while his shoulders ached and his hair got caught in the finger joints. It took him two days to successfully complete his first – crooked - full French braid. And he was still pulling strands of hair out of his fingers half an hour later. When Pinako took the braid out and made him do it again the walls shook with the screams.
Al's notes were the best pain relief he could have found. While his nerves adjusted and continued to graft themselves further into the port inserts with their consistent burning and twitching, he could escape the pain by reading. By the time he had sped-read his way through half of the loose notes he had stopped and gone right back to the beginning again, this time slowing down to appreciate and acknowledge every single word. He found himself methodically categorising each page as he finished it and small piles were building up on the desk in the corner of the room.
Every night before sleep, Ed would talk to Al about what he had read and they would discuss alchemy like they used to many years ago. But this time there was no urgency in their discussions. No more 'find the answer or else' pressures, this was two highly intelligent young people talking about a subject that was more than a passion for both of them.
They stayed away from discussing the array Al had used. Both realised they weren't ready to face that yet. But there was still plenty to keep them occupied. Ed was reluctant to attempt any alchemy until his nerve connections had stabilised further. He had done alchemy before when his ports had been damaged and that was not an experience he wished to repeat any time soon.
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