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Summary: [postseries - slightly AU Alphonse would do anything to get his brother back, and his new friend is willing to help, for a certain price. Now, Edward has returned from Munich, without a clue of how he came back and Alphonse is acting strange, but unknown to Edward, Alphonse is in much more trouble than he can handle.

Venom

Prologue

August 8, 1917, 1:45AM, Central, Amestris

Alphonse could feel his heart pound nervously in his chest, the beads of sweat run down his face as he held his breath, listening to the foot steps grow quiet, and then go out of range completely. He let out a sigh of relief and peeked out from behind the wall. No one. Good. He got to work, clapping his gloved hands together and pressed them onto the side of the building. The Alchemic energy crackled in the stiflingly muggy night air and he prayed both that no one would see the blue glow and that there was no one on the other side.

The cement wall melted and shifted, making a small arc just big enough for him to duck under, and into the library. He hurried through, closed the hole and turned around. He immediately regretted what he was doing.

'What was I thinking?' he thought to himself, surrounded by hundreds of book shelves. 'I should've just asked Mr. Mustang for permission!'

Alphonse shook his head to calm down and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket. It was too late to go back now and he doubted he would get another opportunity to look around the Central Military Library again. He flicked on the flashlight and walked hastily down the rows of bookshelves, careful to make his footsteps as quiet as possible and keep the beam of light on the labels on the bookcases.

It took him quicker to reach the Military Record's section than he expected and it was a lot larger than he expected as well. But all he had to do was find the files that said 'Full Metal' and get out as soon as possible.

Twenty minutes in to his search, Alphonse was beginning to think the task was easier said than done. He ran a hand through his damp hair and exhaled. It wasn't there. He had looked through the 'F's at least ten times and 'Full Metal' just wasn't there. Even an empty space where it should have been gave him more than enough proof. He stretched, his back cracking, then froze, mid-stretch, his eyes wide. He heard footsteps. He immediately turned off the flashlight and pressed himself against the end of the bookcase, holding his breath.

"Alphonse Elric... c'mon out..."

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his heart beat quicken. He was caught. But not without a fight.

He clenched his hands into fists and jumped out from his hiding place, ready to fight, but lowered his guard in confusion. There, standing in the middle of the aisle, was a very... strange looking man. From little light, Alphonse couldn't tell what color hair he had, but it was dark and in very long strands. The man was tall, quite pale, bony and wore nothing more than a tight fitting tank top and what looked like a skort, but even in the dark, Alphonse could see piercing violet eyes staring at him.

"Who are you?" Alphonse demanded wearily, settling back into his fighting stance.

"You were looking for this weren't you," the man waved a folder in the air that Alphonse hadn't noticed he was holding. "Full Metal's records of where he's been, what he's done... none of this will help you."

Suddenly, the folder was shredded up paper on the floor. Alphonse glared.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I'm saying that a bunch of worthless information won't help you get your brother back."

Alphonse winced at the man's harsh voice, but didn't back down as the man walked toward him. He was soon just inches from Alphonse, but the youngest Elric didn't budge.

"What's your name? What do you want?" Alphonse growled, clenching his fists tighter.

The man didn't answer, but grinned, leaning down so that his nose was just mere millimeters away from Alphonse's. He shuddered. The man's eyes were frightening, to say the least.

"I know how to get your brother back," he murmured, his eyes remaining emotionless, but his grin stretched wider. "He isn't dead, just... lost in a strange place he doesn't understand. I was with him."

Alphonse was sure the man was able to hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"I'll need your help to get him out of there and back here, but it's going to require some Equivalent Exchange on your part if we're going to do this."

Alphonse found himself nodding, suddenly desperate. It was the closest lead he had gotten... and even though he didn't necessarily trust this strange man, he felt drawn to him. The man nodded once and stepped back, holding out a hand. Alphonse looked at it, then back at the man, and then realized he was to shake it. He took it and shivered, feeling ice cold skin, even through his gloves.

"I'll enjoy working with you, Alphonse Elric," the man said simply, grinning once more. "The name's Envy, by the way."

September 2, 1917, 3:30AM, Central, Amestris

It was time, and Alphonse glanced apprehensively at Greed as he strapped the leather belts tightly around his wrists and ankles, tying him to the bed. Clara sitting at the head of the bed, her icy, but gentle hands running through his bangs. He knew that she was Lust now; her emotionless eyes would give it away in a second, but he still thought Clara suited her much better.

"We're all set," Greed muttered in his monotone voice and Alphonse felt his heart jump in fear, even though he knew he was in good hands.

Envy padded into view and smirked down at him, the green haired teen's way of comfort. Alphonse smiled weakly back, unable to hide the fact he was scared. He swallowed and straightened his head, staring into Clara's green eyes. She ran her hand through his hair one last time before holding his head steady with a hard grip. Now he was more than scared, and terrified didn't seem to describe what he was feeling. But there was no backing down now. He wouldn't, no matter what.

"You'll be seeing your brother soon, Elric," Envy said and Alphonse screamed in agony.

September 2, 1923, Time Unknown, Munich, Germany

He had forgotten what time it was long ago, but he guessed it was sometime after midnight. The sky was cloudless, thousands of tiny stars twinkling in the black abyss. Somewhere behind him, the moon was full, pouring a dim light into the small clearing, painting the evergreen trees in a silvery glow. The young man lay in the damp grass that had ruined his suit from the moisture. His arms were held beneath his head, half-lidded eyes emotionless as he stared up at the sky. A gentle breeze, unseasonably cool for early-September, lifted his long, blond bangs off of his face, fluttering against his cheek.

"Even the stars are different here," he murmured to himself, letting his heavy eyelids close for a moment, before searching the sky once more.

Alfons's funeral had been a particularly beautiful one; his wealthy, but extremely kind parents honoring their son with a grand ceremony. Edward, amongst many other of Alfons's colleagues, sat near the back of the Cathedral, barely able to hear what the priest was saying, but it didn't matter. Edward wasn't paying all that much attention anyway - and he was sure half of it was a load of crap; that's all that ever came out their mouths.

His mind had wandered after seeing the body of his close friend, pale and peaceful looking. Edward would never admit it out loud, but it scared him. His close friend and roommate always had a different expression on his face, whether it was of joy, frustration or of anger, his face was never the same. And to see Alfons so... frozen, his pale lips curved down ever-so-slightly, his brow relaxed... it wasn't right.

Oh yes, that and the fact that Alfons just happened to look exactly like Edward's little brother, his only family, his life. Edward clenched his fists underneath his head and his eyes tightened. Even the thought of attending Alphonse's funeral sent his confidence spiraling downwards, panic over coming him. What if the transmutation never worked? What if Alphonse was dead? Edward exhaled shakily and forced himself to think of something other than the fact Alphonse could be dead. He had already promised to himself - and his father - that he would push that suggestion out of his mind. He just hoped that Alphonse was okay.

As he mulled his long train of thoughts over again, he felt guilty. Alfons had been the only person on this side of the Gate that Edward had ever let himself get close to. But now that Alfons was dead, he knew he was drawn to the scientist because he looked like Edward's Alphonse.

A strange tingling feeling up his spine made Edward come back to reality, staring back at the stars again. A shooting star shot across the sky and his eyes followed, the feeling of hundreds of butterflies fluttering in his abdomen. He remembered when Alfons had once told him that seeing a shooting star was considered good luck and how people on Earth's side of the Gate often wished on them. "All it is, is a meteoroid passing through the Earth's atmosphere, but it's still fun to play along," Alfons explained and then closed his eyes, making a wish.

Edward stared at the spot where the fiery light had disappeared, yearning to fly into that black nothingness, use rockets to get him back home. But as he thought his theory over, it suddenly didn't sound all that easy. He had gotten no where in his research and he was starting to lose hope, and consciousness, lack of sleep over coming him. He closed his eyes, his head lolling to the side as he slipped into dream-land.

'...I wish I could go home...'