And so does the crack fic truly begin...

Hope you liked the last chapter, and I hope you will like this chapter as well! Please be warned: THERE ARE MAJOR SPOILERS TO THE END OF THE SERIES AND THE MOVIE IN THIS CHAPTER. Actually, there were quite a few in the last chapter, too, weren't there? Well, not exactly...anyways...read on, and please feel free to leave all comments, concerns, and observations on life at the end of this chapter, okay? I look forward to them!!

Read on and enjoy!!

Chapter 2

"Yes, Mrs. Anderson, I understand, but…Mrs. Anderson…I don't think that's appropriate for me to be talking about…um, I couldn't answer that, because honestly I don't know and I don't really want to know. He's in Germany right now. Okay, Mrs. Anderson, I'll be sure to tell him that you want to see him first thing when he gets back. Alright? Yes, yes. Have a good day, Mrs. Anderson. Goodbye."

With a sigh caught somewhere between relief and frustration, Alphonse Elric placed the telephone back into its cradle. He wasn't entirely sure why he continued to humor the poor old woman who was hopelessly infatuated with his older brother despite Edward's obvious disinterest. He suspected that it had something do with the pity he felt for her failing sanity. Moving away from the phone, he picked his broom back up so that he could once again resume his cleaning. Even after two months of being in New York City alone, little had changed in terms of Alphonse's behavioral patterns. As he walked past Edward's door on the way to his own room, a look inside the mildly controlled chaos of his brother's life made him shake his head. Yes, little, indeed, had changed. It was with immense relief that he embraced the cleanliness and organization of his own private sanctum of the tiny apartment he and Ed shared. He couldn't imagine living his life the way Edward did. It would probably drive him crazy.

The young man who maneuvered his way about the room, carefully sweeping the floor, was quite different from the boy he had been but two years ago. The sandy blonde hair—considerably longer than it had been two months ago, for now he could tie it back in a ponytail again—and sparkling brown eyes did not reveal much to his past, for two years ago, those features had not been there, nor had the easy smile that was quick light up his cherubic face been there. Two years ago, Alphonse's face had been emotionless steel, his eyes two red pinpoints of light in a helm's eyelets.

With barely an effort, Alphonse squeezed between his bed and the wall, sweeping up the dust that had gathered there. Two years ago, he never would have fit back there, for his metal girth had easily been twice the size he was now.

With deft hands, he dumped the now dust filled pan into the nearby garbage bag. He winced slightly as he banged his elbow against the wall, a dull thump sounding with the impact. Two years ago, he would have been wincing inwardly for a different reason, for there would have sounded a loud, metallic clang instead, echoing hollowly for a few minutes throughout the room.

Yes, the young man who stepped lightly across the room was quite different from the young boy who two years ago would have clunked heavily across the wooden floor.

For, but two years ago, Alphonse Elric had been nothing but a soul bound alchemically to an empty suit of armor.

Mrs. Anderson and the others in the surrounding apartments would be quite shocked if they knew the whole truth about their young neighbors who had moved here less than a year ago, supposedly from Germany. The truth was that Edward and Alphonse were not from Germany, nor anywhere on any known maps in this world. The two were from a totally different world where alchemy, an art consisting of science and magic that could alter the boundaries of the natural world, had progressed even further than the steam engine. Edward and Alphonse had been famous alchemists in their day, Edward more so than Alphonse, for Edward could perform alchemy as easily as he could breathe. A clap of his hands was all that he needed, and with a crackle of alchemic energy, whatever he was designing would form beneath his fingertips.

Yet such skill had come with a heavy price. At the age of ten, Alphonse had agreed to go along with his year-older brother in order to use alchemy to bring their dead mother back to life. The process was called human transmutation, and it was the biggest taboo in the world of alchemy, called by many "The Devil's Art" and those that attempted it were known as "the devil's workers". Young and naïve, Edward and Alphonse thought nothing of these rumors, fording ahead and attempting to do that which was heavily forbidden, to a dark end.

The word "transmutation" came straight from the Latin "trans" meaning "across" and "mutare" meaning "to change". In other words, transmuting something meant changing it across its normal boundaries, and that was exactly what alchemy did.

The first law of alchemy was known simply as the Law of Equivalent Exchange, and it said that to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. Many a young and unskilled alchemist had thought nothing of this principle, to their own end. Edward and Alphonse, talented at even such a young age, had likewise not taken the darker half of this principle into account. Thusly, when the alchemical ritual went awry in its deadly rebound, Alphonse had lost his entire body and Edward had lost his left leg from midthigh and down. In a desperate act, Edward had sacrificed his entire right arm from the shoulder down to transmute his brother's soul into the empty suit of armor that had been Alphonse's body for the four long, painful years it had taken for them to locate the one thing that could defy the Law of Equivalent Exchange: the Philosopher's Stone. With that blood-red stone, an alchemist could transmute with the minimum price for the maximum result.

After four years, they had found the Stone, and it had turned out to be right under their noses inside of Alphonse's armor. After a long, arduous battle, Alphonse had been successfully restored to his body, but it had been his ten year old self, without the memories of that four-year journey, and Edward had been trapped on the other side of the Gate of Truth, the price for Alphonse's restoration. After two years of searching, Alphonse had found a way to open the Gate in order to bring Edward back, but it had nearly destroyed their world. Thus, Edward returned to the other side of the Gate, but Alphonse had stowed away on the ship to return with him and remain at his side, his memories restored. The two had traveled from Germany to America to locate an object called the uranium bomb, an artifact that the two had come across in their search for the Philosopher's Stone that had deadly potential. They'd found it in the hands of a group of scientists, and despite his young age, Edward had managed to rise to the head of the research team, carefully taking the bomb and hiding it in a location that was a secret to everyone but himself. He didn't even tell Alphonse where it was located, and he usually told Alphonse everything.

For the last two months, Edward had been staying over in Germany to conduct some research on the uranium element, occasionally sending letters to Alphonse as to his progress and as to how he was getting along, what things he'd seen, who he'd met, and other various things he figured would be of interest to his younger brother. Alphonse knew Edward was trying to make his absence less obvious to his little brother, and the younger Elric could only grin as Edward continued to try and watch out for him, even across an entire ocean. Alphonse himself was getting along alright, though he was a little lonely without his brother, even though his brother's colleagues were nice and often stopped by to see him and to make sure he had everything he needed. Of course, he never wrote those things into his letters to his brother, but he was sure that they both knew what he meant. He spent most of his time updating Edward on the conditions of the weather and the apartment, filling the rest of the letter with mundane things that he knew would be of little interest to his brother. He knew, too, that despite this, Edward would feel obligated to read every word of it, as it was written by his younger brother's hand. Thusly, Alphonse did his best to write about things that wouldn't completely bore his brother, even though Edward claimed to never be bored by the content of Alphonse's letters.

Humming a simple tune to himself, Alphonse put the broom back in the closet and was washing his hands in the sink when the phone rang again. Sighing, he dried his hands quickly and went over, catching the device at the last possible ring.

"Hello?"

Fully prepared for another, rather inappropriate discussion with Mrs. Anderson about his brother's most private parts, Alphonse was immensely relieved to hear the voice of Hank Jones, the second youngest member of his brother's research team.

"Alphonse? Oh, thank God! Are you alright?"

Alphonse could hear the tension in twenty-nine-year-old's voice.

"Of course I am. Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes…a little stressed is all. Are you at home? Oh, that's stupid, of course you are…"

Knowing the man could ramble endlessly for hours, Alphonse interrupted.

"Hank, is everything alright? What's going on?"

"Well, Alphonse…it's probably better if I tell you in person. Are you going to be home for the rest of the day?"

"If I have to be. Why?"

"I'll be over in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Sure, but Hank, tell me why."

"It's about your brother. I'll tell you when I get there."

"My brother??" Alphonse was suddenly worried. "What about my brother??"

"I'll be there in fifteen. Don't go anywhere."

Alphonse hung up the phone, numb with worry. What in the world was going on?

True to his word, Hank arrived at the Elric's door in fifteen minutes.

"Hank, what's going on??" Alphonse demanded as he ushered the man inside, taking his coat and hat and hanging it up.

"Alphonse, you should probably sit down for this," Hank told him, running a hand through his rusty colored hair and gesturing to the couch. Alphonse took a seat, his brown eyes never leaving Hank's face, reading every emotion line, every slight facial crease. Once settled in the chair—Edward's chair, Alphonse noted absently—across the coffee table, Hank leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs and his hands clasped before him. There was a serious and slightly haunted look to his hazel eyes.

"Alphonse, we just received word from our embassy in Berlin that your brother has disappeared. We think he's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?? Edward??" Alphonse interjected in disbelief. "H-how?? Why??"

"The last person who saw him was a young lady named Patricia Cailburg. She saw him leaving the Berlin National Library with an unknown man two nights ago, and that's all anyone knows about this. The reason for why he might possibly have been kidnapped is still unclear."

"So, you don't think it's for ransom of any kind?"

"We haven't received any notices, and they surely would have sent something to us by now if this were indeed a matter of ransom."

"But, Brother is just a chemist…!"

He trailed off as Hank shook his head.

"Not just a chemist. Your brother's name is well known throughout most of Europe and the US, you know. It really isn't all that surprising that someone kidnapped him."

Alphonse felt his blood run cold in his veins.

"You don't think he's…dead…do you?" he choked out, terribly afraid for his oft hotheaded brother. Hank shook his head.

"I honestly can't—!"

At that moment, the discussion paused as a knock sounded on the door, causing them both to jump slightly. Alphonse went to the door and opened it.

"Here you are, Mr. Elric," the mailman, Ethan Cooper greeted, holding out the various envelopes.

"Thank you," Alphonse said, taking them and smiling at the man. With a tip of his hat, Ethan continued on his way and Alphonse shut the door, peeking through the envelopes.

"I can promise you that no matter what, Alphonse, we've got the FBI on this right now. They'll do everything they can to find out what happened to your brother."

Clearly, Hank's words had fallen on deaf ears, for Alphonse had paused as he shifted through the mail.

"Alphonse?"

The young man dropped the envelopes to the coffee table save one, which he held up closely to his face.

"This is Brother's handwriting," he mentioned, almost to himself.

"So then, he is alive!!" Hank answered, sounding excited.

Alphonse didn't reply, but he turned the envelope around and tore off the side, tilting it and dumping out all of the envelope's contents. A tiny silver key and a folded index card fell out onto his open palm.

"What the…?" Hank breathed. Alphonse opened the index card. There were three numbers written on the card, with the words Number 20 as you approach from the left written below them. While he sat staring at them, Hank grabbed the envelope and searched it.

"There's nothing else in there!" he said, dubious. "What are we supposed to do with a key and three numbers??"

He was surprised to see Alphonse rise to his feet and grip the key tightly, nodding to himself about something. The young man made his way to the telephone.

"Alphonse? What are you doing?"

"I have someone to call," was the only forthcoming response that came amidst the whirr of the rotary dial.

Hank stared at the youth in bewilderment, until the young man spoke into the receiver.

"Hello, Dad? It's Alphonse. I need your help. Edward's been kidnapped, and I have to get him back."