Two:
Stories in the Night
Trisha yawned as she pulled her baggy white t-shirt over her head and shook out her braid. Her long, chestnut-colored hair fell against her back, wavy and tangled. Tired from cleaning, cooking, and talking all day, she wouldn't even bother to brush it. Trisha planned to crawl into bed and go straight to sleep.
"Uncle Ed," she called out the doorway. "I'm done changing, you can come in now."
Alphonse was the one who walked in moments later though. "Your uncle's not going to be in for a while," he said as he patted his daughter on the head. "He's telling me about his trip."
"Aww," Trisha groaned as she slid her blanket over her feet and began to sink into her pillows. "I wanted to hear about it too." She yawned.
Her father laughed and kissed her on the head. "You can hear about it tomorrow. Just sleep now."
Trisha smiled and pulled the covers to her chin. "G'night, Dad," she muttered as she closed her eyes.
"Goodnight, Trisha," Alphonse said as he turned out the lights. And as his daughter's eyes closed, he frowned, his eyes full of worry. "Sleep well...," he murmured as Trisha fell asleep. "Dream of a better time... than this."
Trisha didn't know why she woke up, but she did so with a start. Perhaps it was a dream that she had forgotten before she even opened her eyes, or some noise registered in her subconscious mind. Whatever it was, she was awake.
The teenager yawned and sat up in bed, not quite fully awake. "Uncle Ed...?" she muttered sleepily. But when she turned her blurry vision to his bed, she saw through the darkness that it was empty. She raised an eyebrow and rubbed her eye, looking for the clock. When she located it, it took a moment for it to register that it was almost four in the morning. And he's still not in bed? she thought, sliding her legs off the bed and onto the hard wood floor.
Wait... is the light still on in the living room?
It was. And Trisha could hear faint voices coming from that direction. Dad?
Trisha began to quietly pad down the hallway toward her father and uncle's voices. When she reached the end of the hall, she pressed herself against the wall, slowly peeking around to catch a glimpse of the brothers.
Ed was sitting in on of the armchairs, his back toward Trisha, and Alphonse sat adjacent, on the loveseat. The younger was speaking in a low voice.
"...wasn't your fault, Brother. It was inevitable. They should have left Germany earlier." He reached out and rested his hand on Edward's shoulder.
The blonde man frowned. "They would have, if Fritz's wife hadn't been so ignorant of Hitler's real plans," he muttered bitterly. "Then...maybe they all would have made it out safely."
Trisha's eyebrows pulled down. What did he mean by that?
"You can't know that for sure," Al said. "But, because you were there, they made it. At least you were able to help the rest of them."
Trisha saw Edward lean forward and rest his head in his hands. Spots on the floor at his feet caught the dim light and sparkled. He's...crying? Trisha wondered in amazement. She had never seen her uncle cry before, she thought it was impossible for someone so strong to submit to something that showed such...weakness. At least, that was what it seemed like from Trisha's experiences. But when her uncle cried...it just made her afraid. What could be so bad that he would cry?
When he spoke, his voice was harsh. "Fritz wouldn't have been shot if-if I had done a better job protecting them," he said. "His children...wouldn't have had to see him bleed to death on the border!" he hissed, his shoulders shaking.
Alphonse looked down, sadness and worry glinting in his eyes. "It's only a matter of time before they trace you down, Brother," he said. "Mr. Hughes can only protect us for so long... Maybe it's time we left too."
"No!" Ed protested firmly, his fist hitting the arm of the chair. "What if the same thing happens to you?" He looked up at his brother. "I don't want Trisha to have to see that... I don't want to see that." He mustered a weak smile. "It's my job to protect you, Al."
The younger brother looked down, a small smile spreading across his face. "You don't always have to be so brave, Ed," he whispered. "I'm all grown up now, I've got to start taking care of myself...and my family." He sat up and smiled. "So where's Noah, anyway?"
Trisha raised an eyebrow. Who's Noah?
Edward's frown deepened. "I...don't know."
Al's face fell into one of worry. "What do you mean...?"
"I mean...she just disappeared one morning." Ed covered his eyes with his hands. "She was probably taken. I know it!" he hissed.
"You don't know that!" Al protested. "Maybe she just..."
"'Just' what, Al?" Edward's head snapped up. Trisha could tell he was angry, or disappointed... or both.
He had no answer.
The brothers sat in silence for a long time. So long, that Trisha's legs began to go numb, so she dared shifting them.
The floor creaked.
Trisha pressed her back flat against the wall as the men turned toward her position.
"Did you hear that?" Alphonse asked.
"Maybe we should check on Trisha," Ed said quietly.
Al nodded as the teenager began to creep down the hall. "It's late. You should get some sleep, Brother."
Trisha broke into a quiet run, praying they wouldn't be in any rush. When she reached her room, she immediately jumped into her bed, making as little noise as possible as she pulled the covers over herself and turned her back toward the door. She pressed a hand over her mouth to quiet her rapid breathing as her father and uncle entered the room moments later.
"Fast asleep," Al whispered. Trisha could tell he had his caring, fatherly smile on.
Ed made a noise of agreement. "Good night, Al," he said as he walked quietly across the room to his own bed and began to undress.
"G'night, Brother." The man began to leave the room, but hesitated. "Don't do anything reckless, Ed," he added after a moment. "Trisha would be devastated if you didn't come back from one of your 'trips.'"
Edward frowned, though his brother couldn't see. "I know."
Trisha squeezed her eyes shut as her father left the room. What has been going on?
