Today's update is compliments of my good friend, Final Hikari.

Thanks to all my wonderful readers. You're all awesome!


oOo Photographs oOo

Munich, Germany. Mid 1922

Alfons hummed lightly to himself as he flipped through the old photo album spread open on his lap. Many of the images within the pages were grimy with age and years of abuse, but they still depicted clear images. Here, his old dog Chocolat. There, himself at four being lead up the stairs to Sunday mass by his mother. Another of his whole family, Chocolat inclusive. It was nice to take a trip down memory lane once in awhile.

Taking a sip of his tea, Alfons screwed his face up a bit as the bitter taste stung his tongue. He had left it to steep a little too long, it seemed; lost track of time. Setting the cup aside, he left it there and went back to the book.

There were so many memories buried within the wordless pages. Carefully, he pried one picture free, flipping it over to read the inscription on the back. Alfons and papa. November 19th, 1914. That had been just before his father had been shipped off to the war...never to be seen again. It was the last picture of the two of them together.

Sighing sadly, he ran his fingers over the strong face he had come to associate with safety and security. His father was gone now, lost in a gun raid back in February of the following year, but Alfons' memories of him had not dimmed. He still remembered his father's warm, musky scent, his strong voice and kind hands. He was a man missed.

Not at all like Ed's relationship with his own father. Edward, for all intents and purposes, was lucky enough to have a father who had survived the war, but the other blond seemed to resent the man more than anything. He had met Hohenheim a few times, and the man seemed nothing if not a good man and father, but Ed would hear nothing of it; he hated his father.

That was one story Edward never told.

Putting the picture back, he flipped on. He saw a few of him with some friends, taken on the rare occasions his mother had gotten them all to stand still long enough to snap the image. He was lucky that they had had enough money to even afford their own camera, but a younger Alfons had never felt that way. It had just been annoying, being asked to clean up and stand still for the pictures. Still, nowadays he was glad for all those moments taken out of play. Without them, he would not have these.

It was not until he heard the door slam, accompanied by a loud, "I'm back!" that Alfons finally closed the album and stood up, stretching. A moment later, Ed poked his head into the room.

"Oh, you are here. What, too good to say hi?" The teasing tone had Alfons smiling.

"No, no. Was just distracted looking through old photographs. What time is it?"

His friend glanced to the mantlepiece clock behind him. "Just after two. You been in here all day?"

"Wow, that late already? Yeah, I've been in here since ten."

Ed chuckled and pushed in through the door, sidestepping Alfons to get to where the photo album was still balanced on the arm of the chair the taller blond had been sitting in.

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Only if I get to take a look at yours," Alfons ribbed back.

Edward, who was halfway into the chair, froze. "...don't have one."

"Oh...look, Ed, sorry. I didn't think."

His friend waved it off. "No, whatever. We kept-/keep/-them on a board...at the Rockbell's. It's still there." Rockbell...Rockbell...where had he heard that name? He shoved it aside; it did not matter. "I just can't show it to you."

"No albums? You didn't take anything with you when you moved?" Genuine curiosity was taking over, now. "Why not?"

Ed did not look put upon, but the blond did not look wholly comfortable, either. Still, the other made a good show of nonchalance as he flipped a page. "Wasn't anything left, after the fire. All that're left are the ones Aunt Pinako had."

"You didn't take any afterwards?" He knew about the fire that had claimed the Elric home. While Alfons did not totally buy the part where the brothers had /purposely/ burned it to the ground, he did believe the fire had occurred.

"We did, but I didn't exactly have much on me when I was sucked into the gate."

Alfons sighed, not in the mood to argue. "Well, tell me a bit about Al-your brother. What does he look like?"

"Like you, if you can believe it. Darker hair, and eyes like mine only a bit darker. But in terms of features, you two have...a lot in common."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Talk about your coincidence." This seemed a tad...surreal. Again, he had to wonder if Ed was wholly sane.

The other blond muttered something that Alfons did not catch, but he shoved it off in favour of dropping down into a second chair. There was no point arguing, and that was exactly what would happen if they pursued this.

"You had a dog?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Not us, but Winry did-does. Den, her name is Den. Actually, she lost a leg to a farmer's bear trap about a year after they got her.

"Really? A three-legged dog? Did she live?" He realised after voicing it that it was a dumb question; Ed had said she was still alive. Too late to take it back, though.

"Yeah, she lived." Ed raised his right hand with a grin. "Winry actually made her automail, like mine-only, you know, for a dog. Den survived the surgery and actually did better on the recovery than most people." The other blond chuckled, shaking his head. "It was a little funny."

If there was one thing about Edward that Alfons struggled to understand, it was his friend's mechanical limbs. The creation of them seemed...well, if not easy, at least /possible/, but that was just for the limbs. The mechanism that allowed Ed to use them, however? That seemed far-fetched beyond belief.

...but he could not deny what was right in from of him. Ed had functional, mechanical limbs. That was fact.

"Seems like a waste, using that on a dog."

"This is what they do for a living. How's that wasting it?"

"I dunno, a lot of people don't have what you have. Why not use it on them?"

"Yeah, I'll point them all Winry's way just as soon as they cross the gate," came the flat reply.

Eager to stop the fight he knew was brewing in the other, Alfons instead said, "What about Winry? What does she look like?"

For a second, Alfons thought he was imagining things, but then...nope, Ed was definitely pink in the cheeks.

"O-oh, you know...like a girl! Long hair, blonde, blue eyes...that sort of thing."

Alfons grinned evilly. "How about her chest? Is she tall? Short? Skinny?"

Edward flustered, eyes widening, then, "W-why the hell would I know? I don't notice that stuff!"

"So taller than you, then."

He barely dodged the photo album that was thrown at his head.