A/N: This is slightly AU, assuming that Roy becomes The Man and that Alphonse has never met Madame Christmas; I haven't read the novels or comics and don't know, so I can only assume and declare it AU. :P Regarding the angel, a friend of mine once told me that she believed that when we die we become angels, but as angels we become our purest selves, and therefore (usually) children.
The snow came gently down as the streetlamps lit one by one, casting warm auras around the falling flakes. The streets of Central City were quiet, the residents settling in with their families as Christmas Eve snuggled over Amestris like a blanket. Despite the comforting peace, Madame Chris frowned deeply as she set down the phone receiver, her back to her customers. He wasn't coming. She understood, really she did; Roy was a busy man, and now more than ever since he became Fuhrer. But it was Christmas Eve! Didn't he have underlings to take care of stupid tasks now? She sighed inwardly, putting a pleasant face on before turning back around to the customers lingering tonight – it was generally understood and accepted that the only reason they were here was because this was better than home, so a sad and scowling hostess was the last thing they needed to see.
The hostess bar was nearly empty, save for a few lonely gentlemen who felt the best way to spend the night hours would be with her lovely girls. A tall woman with long, light brown hair leaned up against the bar. "Was that Roy?" Agatha asked, her voice soft and sweet. Madame Chris nodded, her lips pursed. Agatha reached out a slender arm, patting her mom's hand softly. "You'd think that he'd be able to get away for a few hours tonight or tomorrow."
"Well, your brother's a very important man, now. Countries don't run themselves, after all." Agatha looked over at the door wishfully. Ever since he was little, Roy had dreamed of uplifting his country and fixing years of wrongdoings by becoming its Fuhrer. Now that dream had come true, but it left him very little time for much else. Agatha leaned over to give her mom a small hug before joining one of her sisters at a table to chat with one of their few customers. Time in the smoky bar passed slowly and without notice, a quiet, somber mood coating the warm air until the front door opened wide, sending a cold rush of wind inside.
Madame Chris, the remaining guests, and her lovely girls all looked up at their newest guest: a little girl, no more than ten, her long brown hair cascading over her small shoulders and neatly framing her face. Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a moment, wondering where the girl had come from and why she wasn't at home with her family. She smiled brightly at Madame Chris as she approached the bar, stepping on the stool's footrest to mount the tall seat. Her pale green dress rose over her shins as she sat and draped the stool around her.
"It's been quite some time since there's been a kid in here," Madame Chris said, recalling her own daughters at that sweet age. "What are you doing way out here alone this late in the day?" Madame Chris lifted a tea cup down from above her head and pulled a small jug of milk from the small ice box. Usually that was just for coffee or drinks that needed it, but she highly doubted anyone else would be coming in tonight. "I don't have any chocolate, but if you can wait a minute or two I can make you some hot sweetmilk." The little girl shook her head gently, soft brown strands catching the dim light just right and almost giving her a pale glow.
"Actually I was wondering if you knew that across the street was a boy who can't get home." She raised her small arm and pointed out the window. Sure enough, across the street and sitting slumped over inside of the phone booth was a teenage boy. Madame Chris hadn't seen that boy around before and was too far away to make out any details other than he was sitting with his knees curled up to his chest with his head in his arms. Long golden brown hair obscured the boy's face. Madame Chris drew in a silent breath and shifted her weight to the other foot, looking back at her tiny guest.
"No, I wasn't aware," Chris replied, her tone conveying the hurt she was still feeling as it tried to stiffen. "That's his problem. But tell me, how do you know he can't get home? Are you his little sister or something?" The girl shook her head again, her smile shining and her eyes betraying more love than someone so young should be capable of.
"I know he's sad and can't get home, because tonight, if someone could be home, they'd be there already." Madame Chris tried again to stiffen herself, averting the child's gaze but then caught herself looking out the window at the boy again. He hadn't moved from his spot in several minutes. I want to see my son, she thought, and even though he's busy I know he wants to come see us, too. And that's someone else's son... Madame Chris looked around her smoky bar; customers were still being entertained and paid little attention to the child. She reached under her bar once more, this time retrieving a small tin cash box, and pulled out several hundred senz and shoved them into her pocket as she buttoned her jacket, heading toward the door. Agatha and her sisters glanced up as their mom walked outside into the snow and across the street to the phone booth, the graceful child following silently behind her.
Chris' breath trailed ahead of her, hanging in the air before floating upward. The snow crunched loudly beneath her boots as she approached the boy, who hastily rubbed at his face to hide the fact that he'd been crying. Small, wrinkle-framed brown eyes firmly met with bleary gray ones as the boy tried to collect himself. The boy looked maybe fifteen and certainly had a very pretty face, but definitely wasn't wearing a warm enough coat for sitting in the snow. "You'll catch your death out here, you know. Why are you hanging out in a phone booth?" Madame Chris' tone came out much more firm than she'd intended, but it certainly got the boy's attention.
"I ran away from home," Alphonse stated shamefully. "Almost a month ago." Chris snorted in the back of her throat.
"Smart move, kid. So what happened?" Al bit his lower lip for a moment, looking very sad.
"I... I got into a huge fight with my older brother and our best friend. I know they just want what's best for me, but sometimes I just feel so smothered! Like he's terrified I'll break, or that I'll vanish and never be seen again!" Al flinched at his own words, mentally kicking himself. Chris crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
"So to prove your point, you did just that. Smart kid. Real smart. Still doesn't tell me why you're sitting in a phone booth crying." The teen slumped, feeling like a jackass.
"But I ran out of money for a hotel and food, and all the friends we used to have here are all gone to other places and have moved on with their lives. So now I'm stuck here, by myself -"
"And with nobody but yourself to blame." Al nodded, a fresh crop of tears welling up in his eyes to sting his pink cheeks. "Tell me something: do you love your brother and your friend?" Alphonse's eyes widened, surprised.
"Yes," he said, his voice straining. "Yes, more than anything! They mean more than anything in the world to me! Ed and Winry are my only family, and my whole world..."
"I'll let you in on a little something, then. Never waste your family. You may not always see eye to eye with your brother or your friend, but I'd be willing to bet if you were to show up at the door tomorrow they'd forgive you. They may be pretty mad about you running off and worrying them like that, but families forgive each other. Life is short, kid, and tends to throw curve balls when we least expect them, but if you have your family there with you life's knocks are easier to take because you hold each other up." Alphonse sniffled and nodded with understanding, wiping his face again as Chris leaned into the booth and grabbed the phone, pulling a few silver coins from her pocket. The good thing about running a bar is that you became very familiar with the cab and carriage companies that would come out at this time of night.
"What... what are you doing?"
"What's it look like? I'm sending you home to your family that misses and loves you. The cab will be here in a few minutes to take you to the train station." Stunned, Alphonse shot up from where he sat to hug the older woman tightly. Madame Chris's body softened as she wrapped her arms around the boy, hugging him in return and stroking his back maternally. "Don't worry about it, hon. We all make stupid choices. When my son was your age he could be pretty stubborn, too. We'd butt heads about all sorts of things, some of it pretty damn stupid. Some of it only important at that moment but pointless in the grand scheme of things. Some of it life-changing. But all of it helped him become the fine man that he is today. We still don't always see eye to eye, and now he's busier than he used to be and visits less... But there isn't a day that goes by that his sisters and I don't still love him." Alphonse smiled softly, feeling incredibly homesick and comforted all at once, still snuggled in the woman's arms, loving every second of it; this was the closest he'd had to his mother's hugs in the longest time. They both stood there quietly, each wishing; Chris to be holding her song like this, like she used to, and Alphonse to be held by his mother and then hold Edward and Winry and never let them go again.
The cab's breaks squealed loudly as they slowed to a stop, the engine rumbling. Madame Chris took the cash out of her pocket and shoved it into Alphonse's hands before helping him into the warm car. "Take him to the train station," Madame Chris instructed the driver. "Merry Christmas, kid." She ruffled Al's bangs before shutting the door and watched the cab drive off into the night. The hour wasn't up yet, and if they hurried there was bound to be a train heading for wherever that boy's home was. She sighed lightly, her pockets now significantly lighter, but at the same time somehow her mood was lighter, too. Chris looked around the street for the little girl who had come into the bar in the first place, but she was nowhere to be seen. She saw a set of tiny tracks leading into the bar and then out again, but stopping at the edge of the street and vanishing entirely. Madame Chris walked back into the bar quietly, pausing only long enough to give each of her daughters a kiss on the way back behind the bar.
The little girl sat perched on the roof of the car, not noticing the wind whipping through her hair as she smiled down beneath her where the boy sat snugly inside. She could feel his happiness, his gratitude, his fading sadness and all his love bursting forth all at once and smiled, capturing those feelings and what brought them about and held them in her heart. Merry Christmas, Alphonse, Trisha thought. Even though we're apart and can't part of the same world any more, I still love you and your brother with all my heart and look after you both as best I can. Anger and sadness come and go, but love is eternal. The child angel blew a kiss to Alphonse through the car's roof and leapt upward into the twirling, snow-filled wind, smiling as she vanished.
The hours of the evening passed by, and finally the lingering customers had gone to their respective homes, leaving Chris Mustang and her daughters to clean up and lock up for the night, looking forward to each others' company and opening presents. The door was locked and bolted, the hanging sign clearly stating CLOSED FOR CHRISTMAS, and yet someone was knocking at the door.
"Sorry, we're closed," Agatha called from behind the door as she flipped over another chair. "Come back the day after tomorrow!" The knocking continued, followed by jiggling the doorknob for a moment before everyone paused, listening to the sound of jingling keys trying to find their way into the lock. Nancy and Carol rushed to their sister's side as she unlocked the door and opened it slowly only to have their guest finish pushing it open all the way. Roy turned sideways to see everyone, his arms full of of packages for each of his sisters and stacked high. He smiled sheepishly and yelped a little as he was swarmed by ferociously hugging girls, voices all delighted to see him and exclaiming how much they'd missed him. Madame Chris walked over, giving her son a dirty look as he set the boxes down as Agatha closed and re-locked the door. Before she had a chance to say anything, Chris found herself being draped by her little boy.
"I love you, mom," Roy said quietly to his foster mother as he hugged her tighter. "Merry Christmas."
A small gaggle of women joined them, all sharing their boundless love for each other in one simple gesture. The boundless, eternal love that was family.
Fröhliche Weihnachten, meinen Freunden!
~Das Ende~