If You Don't Cry Rating: R, though with a warning for sensitive subject matter Warnings: As well as the sensitive subject matter, it's effing still an effing mpreg. My muses hate me, clearly. Summary: Ed makes a good daddy. Notes: First there was Wi' Nae Wee Bairn Ye'll Me Beget, which was depressing as all hell, sorry. Then there was Papa Was A Rodeo which at least got a happy ending, and its miserable accompanying piece Boa Constrictor. And this is the next chunk. One more after this, or I think one more, I *hope* only one more, we'll have to see. Maybe two. (maybe three *cough*) And I borrowed Al and Winry's kids from the Letterverse for it, because I'm lazy and no-one can stop me. Hopefully, enjoy ^^; From the foot of the garden path Roy could hear Maes' wailing, and with his hand on the door handle he could hear Ed's gulped sobs underneath it. The same as yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before . . . He closed his eyes, steeled himself, reminded himself again that Ed's reaction to the end of this pregnancy was infinitely preferable to the last one, and opened the door. Ed was pacing up and down the living room with Maes bouncing in his arms, hiccupping with crying as he went, Maes beginning to settle down into a weary grizzle before he faded to sleep; Ed kept wiping at his own face but couldn't stop. Hadn't stopped since before they'd left the hospital. Roy had to keep telling himself that his lover was still pumped full of hormones his body had never been meant to deal with, he'd been through an enormous, life-changing experience, that they were lucky Ed was even there to be unable to stop crying - But ohhh god he didn't have the energy to keep Ed propped up as well as himself with a new baby in the house . . . Ed flumped his head against Roy's shoulder when Roy kissed his forehead and tried to take Maes off him. He didn't relinquish his hold on the baby, though. "Long day?" Roy said, and Ed sniffed. "Can I-?" Ed reluctantly let go of Maes, who started crying afresh in Roy's arms. "It's your uniform, you stupid fu- man." Ed choked, and scrubbed at his eyes. "He doesn't like it, I keep telling you he doesn't like it -" "It's a very fine uniform." Roy shifted Maes to his side and used his free hand to wipe at Ed's eyes but Ed pulled back and spat, "The medals poke him and it's too stiff, give him back-" "You've had a long day and you're tired. Go to bed." "Don't tell me I've had a long fucking day you patronising-" "Swearing." Ed clenched his hands, clenched his mouth like an old-school Edward Elric rant was on the cusp of bursting forth - and dissolved back into tears. Roy closed his eyes again, found the back of Ed's head with his hand, pulled him closer against his free side. Ed rubbed his face into Roy's shoulder, held fistfuls of his uniform and bawled, and Maes kicked him in the arm and whimpered. * In bed, Ed breathed the soggy pants of someone exhausted of crying and exhausted of feeling, and Roy held him and wanted to sleep. Wanted to sleeeep. But first he had to make sure Ed fell asleep and didn't creep out to the nursery again . . . "Goodnight," he whispered, stroking Ed's skin, kissing the top of his head. Ed's head flopped, drunk on exhaustion, into his arm; Roy closed his eyes, waited . . . And the first unsettled warbling of Maes had Ed out of his arms before he could grab him back. "Ed-" Roy called after Ed's back as he snatched up Roy's dressing gown. "I'll go-" "Go to sleep!" Ed yelled at him, and charged on out of the room. * Flickering fingers of morning sunlight moving at the edges of the curtains. Roy lifted his head dazedly as Ed shifted from the bed, and mumbled, "Where are you-?" "If I don't get him up now he won't sleep this afternoon," Ed said, pulling on a dressing gown - Roy's, Roy noted. "And if he doesn't sleep this afternoon he'll be cranky this evening. And if he's cranky this evening-" "Just go, Ed." He could have stayed in bed and slept. He could have stayed bundled up in warm heavy covers and just slept but - In the nursery, Ed still had his hair loose from sleep and was holding Maes against his hip, one hand gently supporting his head, smiling at him that very quiet smile that looked like it might break there was so much happiness behind it. Roy stood in the doorway looking them over, feeling his own smile creep up, feeling the pride swelling inside; even exhausted his lover was so beautiful, so beautiful and alive, and his son - dark-eyed little Maes, so fair-haired right now and soft and safe - Roy walked over, slid his arms around Ed from behind - Ed turned his head to glance back at him and smiled and as Roy leaned down and rested his head on his shoulder, briefly nudged his hair with his nose. "You don't have to be up for a while yet," he said, and Roy could feel his breath on his ear tip. "You're so beautiful," Roy murmured, because it was early and further coherency was beyond him, and Ed snorted and swatted him with a hand. "Do something useful if you're up. Go heat up the - stuff." "You can name it, Edward." Ed's face wrinkled with disgust. "I can't believe there's no alternative to this. It's just cruel." "He seems to like it." "How'd you know? He never drinks anything different!" Maes gurgled. Ed jigged him and made a few shushing noises and laughed, softly, and Roy rolled his eyes and went to heat up the M-I-L-K, saving his lover the most unpleasant task of the day. * Ed must be feeling in a good mood, because he let Roy feed Maes. Ed sat with a cup of coffee and kept up a running commentary of, "Make sure you're supporting his head - don't suffocate him with it - give him room to breathe, Roy, jeez - wipe his chin or it'll stain the - if you don't do it properly I'll take him back-" Roy ignored him and focused on Maes, who was watching him. Maes was always watching him. When they first came back from the hospital he had had dark grey eyes, unfocused and confused; now they were so dark grey they were almost black, and very focused on Roy's face right now, curious and watchful. Roy was constantly aware of the depth of his son's attention on him, whenever his son's attention was on him. How, how, how could an infant with his own eyes seem to have so much more intelligent eyes than he did? Maes never looked at Ed in quite such a dubious way. Roy tried not to resent him that. Mostly he just felt nervous about it, because - what would happen if Maes did find him lacking in some significant way . . . ? Mornings were the best time of the day. Ed yawned sleepily but was more not-yet-awake than hopelessly exhausted, and since Maes hadn't yet cried the whole day long, he hadn't joined him yet. Ed hadn't really stopped crying since he'd got back from the hospital - he just took a break now and then to breathe. He was physically different from the pregnancy, hips still just a little rounded out like a ripe apple, hormonally different, and psychologically - A little scary. Roy had always thought that Ed was frighteningly overprotective of Alphonse; he hadn't even touched the surface. Convincing Ed to let go of Maes for five seconds so he could hold his own son was a long, wheedling, wearisome job, and letting anyone else even lean in close to the baby . . . once Roy had thought getting Ed to shut up was the hardest thing to do. Getting Ed to let go of his son was like trying to pry the cub from a snarling wolf-mother, vicious and mad-eyed and frothing. "Is your brother still visiting this afternoon?" Ed's eyes didn't move from Maes. "Yeah. Him and Winry and the brats." "Then Maes will get to meet his cousins for the first time." Roy said, and glanced down to smile at his son, who watched him. "Bet they're carrying all kinds of diseases," Ed muttered, and his hands were twitching on the tabletop. "Roy-" Roy had experimented in the past, and had found already that fourteen minutes was the cut off point before Ed needed to have Maes back in his arms. Roy shifted the baby and handed him over; Maes closed his eyes in Ed's arms, and Ed smiled, and Roy thought, Fine, like him better, you just wait until school when you need your parents to not embarrass the life out of you, then we'll see who's the favourite . . . "Hey, baby." Ed said softly, and Roy watched his expression and none of it mattered, because he loved Ed more than he'd known there was love in the world. * "Ah ah ah ah-" "What are you doing?" Roy said, without lowering the newspaper. "Vvvvaaaahhhh," Maes said. "Ba ba ba ba-" "Bbbbvaahaahaah-" "Ca ca ca-" Roy had to lower the newspaper. "What are you doing?" "I'm teaching him to babble in a systematic way." Ed said, holding Maes on his flesh knee, one hand to support his back and head, one hand holding Maes' hand to keep him upright. Maes was laughing. "All babies start organising their babble at the same developmental-" "You're teaching him the alphabet." "You're the one who put the big alphabet picture-thing up in his room, with all those creepy grinning animals-" "It's purely decorative! Edward, he's not even one yet!" "So? I started teaching Al to read when he was one." "You-" "Ah ah ah ah-" "Aaffft." "Wait, if Alphonse- you were two?" "What?" Ed jigged Maes a little on his knee. Maes laughed again and Ed's face twitched with glee. "You were two when Alphonse was one." Roy stared at him. "How did you know how to read?" Ed gave him a puzzled look. "Well the words are just - there. It's not exactly hard to pick up, the alphabet's pretty easy, there's not much of it - it's not like I was reading philosophy Roy, kids' books are stupid. Have you looked at them? Three words a page and they're really dumb an...
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