Auschwitz

Summary: 1939: War, Depression, Hunger, Pain, and Death. Five words Edward used to describe World War to. Survival isn't on his mind: It's Justice.

The Elric Brother's have returned to the World where no Alchemy existed after a while. Edward at age twenty-one, and Alphonse at age sixteen, they've been in this other dimension for a year.

A/N: I was inspired by Night by Elie Wiesel. And My great grandmother who I've just learned was apart of the War.

"Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws."

- Plato

Chapter One

Writing swiftly into his journal, he had a lot on his mind. What were the Nazi's planning? And what made Hughes so involved? Gritting his teeth at the memory of seeing that man that looked like his friend. Really, he was nothing but a perfect replicate: they may have been identical in physical features, but their personalities were far from alike.

Golden brows furrow as he finished his letter, "this should do it." A sigh provoked his brother into waking up from his slumber. "Al, I'm going to need you to stay awake for a couple hours." His smile was sheepish; he hated to wake his brother from a peaceful state and back into a world that consumed benevolent purposes down the drain.

"It's not even six in the morning," Alphonse moved to sit up cautiously, supporting himself with his elbows. "You stayed up all night?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Brother, you need to take better care of yourself. Your body needs its rest." He lectured mildly through a sleepy tone. "What's that?" Al indicated to the piece of parchment that Edward ripped gradually from a book that Alphonse immediately assumed it was his journal.

"A letter. To Gracia: She needs to be informed that the Army's spreading. Right now, she's the only one we can trust."

"What about Noah?"

Edward paused slightly as he stood up stiffly, his gaze failed to meet with Alphonse's. "She was captured Al." His voice was hoarse after pausing for such a long period of time."

"What? When?" Al yelped demandingly, slipping out of his bed: jumping to his feet. "How do you know?" The look on Al's adolescent features made Edward's gaze travel to the other side of the room. "Al, it was in the newspaper. They stated it as some kind of victory. " He clenched his fist and it pounded roughly on the oaken surface of his desk. "Some kind of ploy that's nothing but children's play: When it's so much more than that."

"Maybe Noah escaped the raid. If we find where they're keeping her captive, what do we do after that? We need to think this out logically, or else we'll be out numbered.""

"When did numbers ever stop us, Al?" He asked his brother, turning his head lightly in his direction. A smile occurred on his lips, but it dissipated immediately into a frown. "I already have a plan, but right now, I need to get this letter to Gracia before it's too late." His tone was obscure from any emotion but apprehension.

"What if Hughes sees you?" Alphonse let his arms drop to his sides, "Have you come up with an excuse?"

"Yeah, an excuse that'll involve a punch in the face."

"You'll get in trouble!"

"With all the things he's committed, Al, even you know he deserves it." Slipping the letter into his pocket, he turned toward the door. "You think too much, Al. I won't lay a hand on him," His expression grew weary while he opened the door. "Yet." And then he disappeared from his brother's sight.

"Gracia!" Edward exclaimed, seeing the woman working kindly around the flowers. It just seemed so natural for her to do something so simple and genuine. Without a word, she welcomed him inside the petty Floral Shop before closing the door.

"We can't really trust anyone while talking in public," She sighed exasperatedly before offering the man before her a question. "How's Alphonse?" The look on her worn out features worried him somewhat: Her husband was apart of the recruit that are felling innocent people. His forehead creased as he began to reconsider giving her the parchment in his pocket.

"Alphonse hasn't changed a bit, still the same ol' Al." He managed a smile, and this encouraged one upon her features. Ed knew that she was aware of what he meant. His features stiffened a bit more into a grave look. Even if the Floral Shop was dimmed with little light, he was able to see the expecting look on her face. Letting out a defeated sigh, "I've been wanting to tell you something. Here." He pulled the letter out, handing to her.

"Everything's inside. I know what they're planning Gracia, that's why I need you to watch out. They're going to come here next."

Gracia looked at him before quickly unfolding the letter, taking a seat, she silently read out loud:

Lieber Gracia,

bin ich nicht sicher, wenn du bewußt bist, aber I die Naziarmee hier ist. Sie haben bereits viele Leute von anderen Abteilungen entführt. Hughes ist eine jener Einzelpersonen, da du nicht bewußt sein kannst. Ich habe bereits: für dich, einen Platz geordnet, zum deiner Sicherheit zu sichern.

"I wanted to give it to you before I left, but since you were here, I thought it'd be better to give it to you in person." When she didn't answer he continued, "You're not safe here, no one is." Noticing a change in her features, he waited.

"Where do you want me to go?" Her voice was quivering, and Edward blamed himself for her instant fear.

"With Alphonse, he'll look after you. One place isn't safe, so I'll send you with Joseph, he'll look after you. His place isn't too far off, but you'll need to leave some things behind. They're coming tonight."

Gracia gasped, putting a hand over her mouth with fear, soon nodding quickly. "I'll go, but Edward, where are you going to go? What are you going to do?"

"I'll be under cover." He responded vaguely.

"What…?" After a moment's thought she took him by the arm, "You're going to join…?"

Edward nodded solemnly, "It's the only way to take care of things. But I need you to stay alive, as for all the others." At this he turned his back to her, but looked back. "Tell Anna I said, I have everything under control." Anna was Gracia's daughter, a four-year-old girl.

"What are you going to do about Hughes…?" Gracia asked sternly, though it wasn't enough to hide that tear coming down her face.

"I'll try to knock some sense into him. Don't worry about it." He said the last part with some confidence before walking out.

(What do you think? Please give me some feedback! )