Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Work has been picking up, so I haven't had much time to write. It's horrible, I know. I'm so sorry!

oOoOoOo

"Edward, I'll be back later. I'm going to talk to your brother," Mustang stated as he stood. It had taken him a while to calm the young man down after the strip poker comment. Mustang decided he was glad looks really couldn't kill a person, as he almost withered under the glare the teen had given him at the time. "Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

"I'm not a child..." Edward mumbled belligerently from where he sat on the bed, his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees.

Mustang chuckled as he donned his footwear. "Indeed, you are not a child. Your letter proved that." He grabbed his jacket and shoved his arms into the sleeves as he walked over to the door.

"You won't... tell him anything, will you?" Edward asked timidly.

"Do you want me to?" the older man paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

"No... Yes... No... No, don't," the blond's brow knit in indecision. "He's probably already found and read the first letter." He sighed. "I hope he didn't." He slid his chin off his knees and rested his forehead in its place. "I guess it depends on whether he has or not."

"Well, if he did, it might make things a bit easier to explain. But I won't tell him anything he doesn't absolutely need to know," the dark-haired man resumed his exit. He knew Edward would behave himself while he was alone in the apartment. The youth actually had respect for other people's homes, even if he didn't have much respect for much else. Mustang shrugged to settle his coat more comfortably onto his shoulders as he stepped onto the narrow walkway that led to town. He didn't know exactly where Alphonse was, but he assumed he would be home, waiting in vain for his brother's return.

Even though the calendar said it had been spring for a month, winter was still trying to reclaim its hold on the land with a brisk icy breeze. Roy pushed his hands into his pockets as he continued down the busy sidewalk, lost in thought as he passed the pocket park near his house. The sound of someone vomiting snapped him from his planning. He was deciding on the best course of action regarding his future conversation with the younger Elric sibling. He lifted his head in idle curiosity, looking for the source of the noise. He spied the back of a teen hunched over a waste bin in the corner of the park. 'Poor kid. I wonder what's wrong with him.' He started to turn away, but quickly turned back when the youth lifted his head as if he were coming up for air. Standing behind the boy as he was, he rushed to his aid only after the boy stood. He recognized that long bronze ponytail anywhere.

"Alphonse? Is that you?" the dark-haired man winced as the young man suddenly doubled over the bin again and began retching. "Alphonse?" He reached over to start rubbing Al's back. The youth jumped, startled.

"K..." Al cleared his throat. "Colonel? What are you doing here?"

Mustang hastily slipped out of his jacket and threw it over the boy's shoulders when he noticed the boy shivering. "Looking for you. Hey, where's your coat?" his voice rang with parental concern.

"Forgot... It..." Al muttered sheepishly.

Mustang blew out his cheeks in frustration. "Come on, you're coming with me," the dark-haired man gently guided the youth by the shoulders away from the park. "Let's get you cleaned up and warm up at my place."

"Colonel?" Al wobbled slightly as he began to walk.

"Yes?" Roy steadied the sick teenager, a worried look in his eyes.

"...Is my brother there? At your place?" Al asked, an acidic edge to his voice.

The older man faltered, but decided to come clean with the lad. "Yes, Alphonse. I'm sorry I lied to you earlier. Edward just... needs some time to... come to terms with something that's been bothering him for... a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?" the teen asked, hurt.

"Your brother asked me not to. He thinks you... hate him... for some reason." He decided to play dumb. He had promised not to say anything unnecessary, after all.

"I don't hate him. I love him," Al lowered his eyes, a light blush dusting his cheeks. If anyone asked, he would just say he was sick. It wouldn't really be a lie. As if on cue, he began coughing.

Mustang draped his arm over the sandy-haired teen's shoulders and steered him home, not caring how upset Edward would be over his brother's sudden arrival in his house. But, Mustang decided, it was his house, and he could have anyone over he wanted. Knowing Ed, he would probably quickly forget his annoyance as soon as he saw how sick his younger brother was. "I certainly hope so..." he muttered.

"Colonel...?" Al's voice shook. "What do you mean?"

Mustang looked over at his companion. He didn't realize he had been overheard. "It's just... Well, your brother's been a bit of an ass lately. I'm hoping he'll get over himself once he sees how sick you've become since he abandoned you."

"He didn't abandon me!" Al protested hotly, before his voice caught in his throat and he began coughing again. "He said he didn't. I know he can be a jerk, but he's my brother. I still love him."

"Someone has to. Anyway, when did he say this? He's been at my place these past four days."

"Well, he didn't exactly tell me. But you know how my brother is. The words he writes betray him."

Mustang thought back on the emotional essay he had read this morning and had to admit he agreed with the young man's sentiments. He smiled, "Your brother has a poetic soul." 'I guess he does have that first letter after all.'

Al giggled. "I don't think so. His idea of poetry is the bawdy limericks Second Lieutenants Breda and Havoc have taught him." He blushed a deeper shade of red. "He likes to... recite them for me... when he learns a new one..."

"I see." Mustang knew the limericks and wondered if Edward was dropping hints without realizing it.

"Colonel?" Al asked timidly.

"Yes?"

"Would you think it was weird if... ummm..." Alphonse began giggling and covered his mouth with his hand. "I'm sorry. It's not important. It's stupid... never mind..." he waved hand in front of his face as if he were clearing the words from the air.

"Obviously it's important. You're not the kind of person to waste words. And, if it's important to you, it's important to me, too. It's the same with Edward. But, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Mustang decided to let the subject drop. He peered closely at the teen's flushed face. "Al, you seem to have a regular cold, so why were you throwing up?"

"Ummm... I think it was breakfast and stress. I guess Edward leaving in the middle of the night affected me more than I thought. We have spent time apart before, but I think his abrupt departure hurt me more than I care to admit."

Roy took the time to really study the teen. Even thought Al was seventeen, his time spent at the gate had stunted his growth. This gave him the body of a fifteen year old upon his restoration. He remembered that time, slightly over a year ago, when Edward had rushed into his office, looking as if he were being chased by all the demons of Hell. He recalled the surprise he felt when the young prodigy had grabbed his hand and dragged him from the office. Mustang only had time to mumble a quick 'I'll be back...' to his shocked subordinates before being ushered into the corridor. Edward led him to the quarters he shared with his brother. The Flame Alchemist's jaw had practically fallen through the floor when he recognized what he had originally thought was an alchemically created dummy laying on the bed as Alphonse, who was sleeping.

"I did it, Colonel," Edward had taken hold of his arm and was shaking it up and down like a toddler trying to get attention. Tears were running down the teen's face, and a huge grin was plastered across his features. However, there was also a hint of fear in the golden eyes. "I did it... Please... Don't tell anyone."
"Edward? How?"
The golden-haired only shook his head. "Don't tell..."
"I won't." Roy Mustang had promised then. He understood where Ed's concern had come from, and he knew Edward would take the secret of the restoration to his grave. The boy had committed the taboo known as Human Transmutation a second time.

A few months after the restoration, after Al had put on enough weight and was well enough to leave their quarters, they told people that Al had grown out of his armor-wearing fad. 'It just got to be too high maintenance,' They would always say.

He smiled at the memory as his feet led him back home. Edward may insult him on a daily basis, but he knew that both boys trusted him very much when it came down to it. He didn't think Edward would have shared either this secret, or his tears of joy, with him. Perhaps, he thought ruefully, they had only told him because they felt they had no one else to turn to at the time.

Al grabbed the lapels of the heavy coat and was hugging himself tightly, trying to keep warm, by the time they made it back to Mustang's house.

As he led Al inside, he saw that Edward had cleaned up from breakfast and was currently finishing the dishes. He walked Al to the spare bedroom and took back his jacket. "Get into bed and rest. I'll be right back with something to warm you up."

Mustang went back to the kitchen, where Ed was drying the last cup. He took the vessel from Edward and set it on the counter. "I'm going to need that." He then reached into the cabinet for another cup. "Thanks for doing the dishes, by the way."

"You're welcome. Anything to stay busy, Colonel. I knew I'd go crazy if I didn't do something until you got back. Why do you need the cup?"

"You'll see. Run along now. I have something I need to do."