I should warn you about something in this chapter but I don't know how to do it. Just consider yourself warned about something...

If this story has a "Promised Day", it all starts now!


Chapter 29: Self-Sacrifice


It had been a very long time since he had a private conversation with the Brigadier General, probably because he never favoured the opportunity. But this afternoon was different. He had waited until the end of the day since he knew Carl R. Kiehle sometimes stayed overtime.

In the hall he had unexpectedly run into Alfons Heiderich. He looked troubled. Something had happened to him that day, and Roy Mustang wondered what it could've been. The boy had acted like everything was fine, but even though Mustang only had one eye, he could easily see right through the boy. Alfons Heiderich was a lot like the Elric-brothers. His feelings were literally placed outside of his body, maybe more like Alphonse Elric than Edward, but Edward too often failed to conceal what he was really feeling. Seeing Alfons Heiderich enter the elevator in the hall with that look on his face had made Mustang want to grab him with firm hands and squeeze the true story out of him. It had something to do with the Brigadier General, and he wanted to know exactly what he was up to. But of course, Kiehle had obviously threatened the boy to silence.

Whatever it was the Brigadier General was doing and using his position for, it had to be stopped. Mustang knew that much. He was corrupt, misusing his place and fishing after even more power and hiding everything behind the illusion that he was protecting the country.

Roy wouldn't let that happen. The Brigadier General had been having the rank over him for enough time now. It was time to figure out how to make his downfall happen, once and for all. He even had two facts of evidence against the man, even if he could only use one of them. Just one of them had to do.

Someone like Kiehle couldn't reach the top before him. But with Alfons Heiderich in his possession, that could in fact happen sooner or later.

Mustang knocked roughly on the door, hearing a glass shatter against the linoleum right after. The Brigadier General had been startled by someone knocking on his door? That wasn't usually like him.

"Who is it?" a voice called.

"Colonel Mustang, sir," Roy said, turning on a polite tone.

It was silent for a couple of seconds. Then Kiehle's voice more or less barked: "What is your business here?"

"Let me in and I will enlighten you," Mustang said calmly. Even if it was after normal work hours, something about this seemed relatively odd.

"Enter then," Kiehle replied shortly.

Mustang entered the office and closed the door after him. Just in case. It would've been bad if someone eavesdropped.

"What do you want at this hour, Mustang?" Kiehle asked. "This is a rare occasion."

"Indeed," Mustang said. The room smelled of alcohol, and he noticed the shattered whiskey glass on the floor, but didn't point it out. Instead he said simply: "I want you to know that I know what you're doing."

Kiehle became slightly pale. "What are you talking about, Colonel?"

"Someone has been swindling with funding, and I couldn't help notice lately how well your subordinates are being treated economically. Very generous of you, Kiehle."

Kiehle snorted. "It's a matter of encouragement in these dark times, Colonel. Even you should be able to understand that."

"And right under the Fuhrer President's nose." Mustang chuckled.

"Have you come to blackmail me, Colonel?" Kiehle asked.

"I wouldn't use that word for it," Mustang said. "It's more like setting things right."

The Brigadier General looked disturbingly calm. "Then you'd better get to the point soon, Colonel. I feel like heading home now."

Mustang snarled, starting to become annoyed of Kiehle's confidence. It seemed to have slipped for a moment, but now it was back like it had never left. "You're going to use the flying machines to enter the Gate, aren't you?"

The Brigadier General looked suddenly puzzled. "Where did you get that idea from, Mustang?"

"I know how your mind works," Mustang said. "You're a vengeful bastard who can't wait to throw your arms into a war. That's why you're encouraging your men, isn't it?"

"Someone ought to do something," Kiehle barked. "No one wishes for war, but this one is necessary. You've seen how the enemy acts. That whole other world is just the same."

"You're wrong. Killing everyone doesn't solve anything!" Mustang didn't even notice that he had raised his voice before he had said it.

There was a long, heavy silence between them. It might only have been some seconds, but to Roy it could just as well have been an hour.

"Are you referring to that incident in Ishbal, Mustang?" Kiehle asked calmly. "You know as well as me that it was a necessary sacrifice."

Mustang shot his eye down to the carpet, feeling the shame practically eating at his heart. No. It hadn't been necessary. "It was slaughter," he said. "The entire Ishbal war was. But during the incident in the mountains, you saw the same as me." He raised his eye again, meeting the other's. "Their eyes. They weren't killers. There were women and children among them."

"You don't know that for sure," Kiehle opposed. "Their eyes were like blood, like the bloodthirsty beasts they were."

"They wouldn't have killed us. They just wanted to disarm us to prevent more deaths," Mustang stated out loud. "But then you simply aimed and shot them down, including our own."

Kiehle's fist shot out almost faster than he could dodge. Mustang jerked his head to the side in the last second, preventing a pretty ugly punch.

"But you never reported it, did you?" Kiehle said, his arm stretched out beside Roy's cheek above his right shoulder, both of them standing, frozen into the position. "No. Because you're so damn noble towards your friends, aren't you? I don't understand why you ever considered me one." He slowly pulled his arm back.

Mustang scowled, ready for another attack, but it didn't come. Kiehle turned around towards the window, his back against Mustang.

"My mistake," Mustang said coldly. "In fact I should've reported you."

"You're just a coward," Kiehle spat. "Like you've always been."

Mustang went silent.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten," Kiehle said, turning around and stepped closer. "The reason for your mistake, the one time I actually needed you, and you just took off with your tail between your legs."

"That… incident isn't relevant here," Mustang said. "We were only kids…"

Kiehle snorted. "You know as well as me, you've never been suited to play the part of hero. Whatever you think of telling Fuhrer President Hakuro, it won't matter." He bypassed Mustang, heading for the door. "He trusts me nonetheless. And I won't rest until I replace his seat."

Mustang watched him as he opened the door. "The one he'll replace seats with will be me," he stated boldly.

Kiehle turned around with a scoff and his hand resting on the knob. "Let's see who will dispose of the other first, then, Colonel. Good evening," he said and left.

"Colonel?"

Riza's soft voice merged with his thoughts. Mustang looked up from his work, aware of the fact that he might have looked quite strange while he was seemingly "working".

"You seem to be drifting off a lot lately," she noted.

"1st Lieutenant Hawkeye," he said, clearing his voice. "Has Fullmetal shown up yet? There's something I need to discuss with him."

"It's only 8:00 AM," Riza said. "He won't be here until nine today. You ordered for him to sleep a couple more hours, remember?"

Right. Maybe he should've ordered that for himself as well.


It was still pretty early in the morning when Al awoke, finding himself buried comfortably underneath Edward's covers in a different bed than his own. Next to him his brother was lying sprawled out on his back and snoring evenly, while his doppelganger still slept peacefully in-between Edward and the wall. Alfons' hand was resting on Edward's arm, and his nose was so close that it was in contact with Edward's ear. Edward was lying only halfway under the covers with his bare stomach poking out as usual, but it seemed like he had abandoned his own covers completely during the night and tucked Al into it instead, and then snuck halfway underneath Alfons' blanket for warmth.

Al lay still on his side for a while, letting his thoughts roam free. He thought he was kind of used to see them together in that way, but now he was unsure of what he really felt. They were lying so close to each other, and even if they were sleeping Al could see that they both cared about each other. They loved each other.

When he was younger he had dreamed about being with Winry. But clearly, he didn't know anything about what a relationship such as that was like, did he? It had just been a silly and childish crush. And Winry had never been interested in him that way anyway, and he had probably grown off of it by now. Now he simply loved her as a sister.

He shifted a little, burying his cheek a little deeper into his pillow. Edward had moved on with his life while being gone. He was able to move on. Would Al be able to do that too? Or would he always be living in the shadows, unable to start his own life?

Al turned around on his side again, fiercely rubbing his forehead. Why was he even lying here in this bed? Why did Edward want him to be here? Wouldn't he just be in the way?

Was he in the way?

Most of the time since he had gotten his big brother back he had always considered Alfons as the excessive third wheel between the three of them. After all, Al and Edward used to travel on their own in the years after their mother's death. But maybe he had been wrong. Maybe the excessive one had been him all along. Brothers didn't live together, but lovers did. That was obvious.

Perhaps he should just find somewhere else to go, something else to do, when all of this was finally over. He could move away and go to school, and occasionally visit Edward.

There was a small lump growing inside his chest as Al curled up underneath the quilt, like he could hide from his own thoughts. Deep down he knew that that wasn't what he really wanted. At least not yet. He wasn't ready... He wanted to go on an adventure and explore the world – together with Edward and Alfons. But what if Edward wanted him to go to school now? What if Edward wanted to settle down right here?

Did all that even matter when it came down to it? It seemed like something would change soon. Something big. It would be hard to defeat the Gate and Thule Society, but at some point someone ought to do it.

Al didn't know what to do anymore. He sat quietly up in bed, ignoring his aching head and drained body. He didn't feel all that rested, despite that he had slept without having any more nightmares about the Gate. He knew they hadn't just been simple nightmares.

It had visualized itself perfectly in his mind, and the voice that had spoken to him had sounded painfully real. It reminded him of the time he had been trapped in the white space before the real Gate, except that he hadn't heard its voice before now. Those long black hands had twirled around his body like chains, capturing him like a prisoner into a dark corner of his own mind which he definitely couldn't escape.

Your body belongs to me. The exchange altered the moment your brother entered this world.

That was what it had said. He was certain of it. It was one of the few things he remembered clearly from those nightmares, and he knew what it meant. When Edward had performed the human transmutation he had used his own body in exchange. But now he had returned, and the Gate had in fact given him his body back without gaining anything. That was probably why... the Gate wanted him.

A sacrifice has to be made, it had said. After that... nothing.

He didn't know who this sacrifice would be in the end. It might not be him, after all. But a certain question circulated in his mind.

Was Al really the one worth staying?

"Me," he whispered. Maybe that was his fate in the end. So it didn't matter now what plans he made, or if he was in the way of his brother's love for Alfons. If he was taken by the Gate and even if his soul would be wandering bodiless in the white space between the worlds, it might be the only way to keep his brother together with the person he truly loved. He had noticed the way Edward had acted after they had gotten home the day before. He had clung to the other like he had been afraid that Alfons would be gone forever. Edward believed that the Gate was after Alfons.

Al's eyes were suddenly wide, staring straight up into the ceiling. "That's it." He had figured out the solution to everything. Edward had been wrong all along.

He suddenly realized, he was the sacrifice. Not Alfons. If someone had to be sacrificed it had to be Al. He had been made from the bottom with human transmutation after being dead in the first place. He should've died. He died the moment his body left the world for the first time, when they committed the greatest taboo of all. Maybe that was why he had lost his memories from after they transmuted their mother. Because he wasn't supposed to be there, hence it wasn't supposed to have happened. And even if it was, he had been just a soul in a dead thing. Not truly alive.

If Al became a sacrifice to the Gate, many other lives might be spared. Edward and Alfons wouldn't have to risk their lives destroying the Gates anymore, because the Gate would be satisfied. Al had a strong feeling that destroying the Gate would be nearly impossible, at least before the exchange that had started so long ago was complete. That was the reason why Edward had been unsuccessful in reaching the binding points in Lior.

"That's why..." he whispered. The deal has to be finished.

Alfons had already given up a lot to protect Edward. Al was ready to do that too.

His bare feet touched the cool wooden floor and he shivered from goosebumps running up his body. If this was the only way, he had to get back to the Gate one way or another before it was too late. Hopefully he still had some time.

His brother stirred and shifted behind him. He felt a gentle palm close around his arm. He didn't turn around by the touch, merely stiffened.

"Al," a drowsy voice murmured, and Edward propped up on his elbow. His golden eyes searched to get a glimpse of his face in the dim room. "Are you all right?"

Al nodded.

"Did you have any more nightmares?" His brother's voice had some traces of worry in it.

"No."

"Good." Edward sighed and yawned.

Al motioned to leave bed, but Edward held him back. "You should sleep a bit more."

Alphonse stopped and let his head bow forward. "When will you be leaving again, Nii-san?" he asked silently.

A scowl formed over Edward's eyes and he sat up a little. "Leaving?"

"You know what I mean," Al said. "You'll leave to stop Thule Society and the Gate soon."

Edward was quiet for some seconds. He thought Al's words sounded strange. "I don't know yet," he replied slowly.

"I see," Al said silently. "I want to go with you, Nii-san."

Edward sighed, a small smile trailing over his lips. "I'm sorry, Al. I've already discussed this with Alfons. Both of you will be staying here."

As he thought. Al twisted his head slightly towards him. "Why?"

"Stupid little brother," Edward said. "Because it's too dangerous obviously."

Al turned away again.

"Whenever it happens," Edward continued more softly. "It won't take long at all. I'll be back again sooner than you know."

"M-m."

"Go back to sleep again, Al," Edward said. "I can tell, that flu isn't completely out of your system yet. You'll never get well if you don't rest up properly." He tugged gently at Al's sleeve.

"I feel much better," Al opposed.

"Better isn't good enough," Edward stated, sitting properly up now.

"I have to go to headqu—"

Edward ignored the protests. "You're staying right where you are." He locked an arm around Al's waist and shoved him down on his back with enough force, yet remaining gentle. Al took a deep breath and struggled weakly to keep his body upright. But he was too tired to fight. His brother was right, after all. His body felt still too exhausted to be walking around.

Edward wrapped the covers carefully around him and touched his forehead with his flesh palm. "You have a fever," he noted. "Like I said."

Al sighed and blinked slowly a couple of times. He was too tired to even speak. His head felt like it was made of concrete and his eyelids likewise. He felt Edward's cooler hand caressing over his messy locks of loose hair.

"There," he said. "Sleep and get well properly."

Beside them Alfons turned onto his stomach and sighed into the pillow, having been awakened by the brothers. "What's going on?"

"I'm telling Al to sleep. He's still sick."

Alfons sat up on his knees and rubbed his eyes. "Did the clock ring?"

"I don't know." Edward gazed at the clock. "Looks like we're late. It's 8:30 already."

Alfons' heart suddenly started racing. "Oh no..." It couldn't be! He wanted to hit himself. "I was supposed to be there half an hour ago."

Did the Brigadier General think he wouldn't show up? Would he be coming over to the house again? Alfons started sweating just of the thought of it. The only thing he could do was to hurry over there.

"Sorry," Edward muttered. "The Colonel permitted me to be in at nine, but I'm late too anyway."

Alfons got out of bed in a hurry. "If I'm not there soon as hell, I'll get in real trouble."

He noticed a worried look from Al in the corner of his eye the moment he left the bedroom. Only Al knew what extent of trouble he really meant.

Edward sighed and turned to Al again. "Sleep some more and fetch something to eat when you get up."

"I will, Nii-san," Al promised, rolling his eyes. He shifted onto his side as Edward rose from the bed and headed towards the door.

"Nii-san..." Al said a little hesitant.

Edward turned. "Yeah?"

"I... there's something..." Al didn't know what he was planning to say. Alfons had made it clear not to mention a single thing. But was that really alright?

"What is it?"

"Heiderich-san is... in some kind of dilemma. The Brigadier General said he would be mad at him if he was late." Al clutched the covers a little frantically. Stay close to Heiderich-san today... he wanted to say. So nothing bad happens to him...

Edward looked pensively at him. "How do you know?"

"He just mentioned it last night," Al lied. "I'm just a little worried..."

Edward smiled. "Don't think about it. I'll keep an eye on him. Good night, Al."

Al closed his tired eyes. "Good night."

Meanwhile Alfons stood underneath the hot spray of water in the shower. Damn it... He was late anyway, so there was no reason to start sweating it now, was there? He heard the door to the bathroom open up and close, and he frowned. "Edward?"

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, one metal and one human, and shortly after a warm naked body pressed against his back. "Yeah?"

Alfons smiled. "Who invited you in?"

"Oh, I thought you had booked someone to wash your back. My mistake, I'll be leaving then." Edward grinned as Alfons caught his arm and held him back.

"You're not going anywhere."

Edward turned as he was pulled underneath the hot water, making his loose hair stick to his wet skin. He gave Alfons a look. "Weren't you in a hurry?"

"I'll just make up an excuse, I guess," Alfons said.

"So now you've turned into a rebel as well." Edward sighed. "I'm a bad influence on you."

While soothing hot water streamed down over them both, he ran a soft cloth with soap smelling like chamomile over Alfons' back in a relaxed massaging motion.

Alfons sighed fancifully. He had calmed down a little, but still aware that he would have a difficult confrontation in a mere hour. He didn't look forward to it, but managed to shove the thought away. Maybe that was the reason why he could cope enough to relax and enjoy Edward's treatment for now.

"Edward," Alfons said in a low voice.

Edward placed a kiss on his shoulder. "Mhm?"

"I might be a selfish person, but I don't care what happens anymore."

Edward scowled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's not important... that things might be difficult right now. The only thing that matters to me is that we're together." Alfons lowered his head with a weak smile. "And that Al is okay with it. Either way, wounds will heal, right?"

With his metal hand lightly put on Alfons' chin, Edward turned his head gently towards him to face him. His eyes were serious. "Yeah..." he replied silently. "They heal."

Alfons beamed softly. "Will you get scolded for being late today?"

First Edward looked questioningly at him before his eyes changed slightly into amused perceptiveness. "Probably. But do I care?"

Alfons leaned closer and kissed him deeply. Gratefully. He needed Edward now, more than ever. He didn't even have a proper explanation for it. He even felt an urge to cry and spill out the whole truth.

I'm scared.

If a couple of tears managed to spill out, it was fortunately not visible because of the water from the shower that rained over them. Edward's body felt warm and soft against his from all the heated water and steam in the air. He was kissing him back keenly. If he was still confused from Alfons' words, he didn't show it. He simply understood the fact that Alfons needed the comfort and closeness, and was happily offering it without a question.

The metal hand traced gently across his nape, lingering by the hairline at his neck and caressed softly, letting his fingers twine themselves into the short locks.

If I had been as strong as you, maybe things would be different.

Alfons let his hands wander down the beautiful frame of Edward's body, kissing his way down his neckline to the divided area linking skin and metal on his shoulder. Edward's eyes were closed, his body awakening from the contact and the touches.

No, what happens today isn't important. You're the one who is important to me.

A metal hand heated by the water touched him tenderly at more intimate places and Alfons' lips searched back at Edward's. Lulling each other into a passionate soothe, a reminder of their trust and that they were still okay.

All we have to do is to stop Thule, and we have the military to help us with that. It'll be okay. The rest is... irrelevant.

Edward's large amber eyes opened slowly as their lips parted, his back supporting against the white tiles of the wall. In one slow motion, Alfons slid inside, and Edward tossed his head back with a quiet hiss. Alfons kissed the crook of his neck, waiting for him to adjust before he moved while supporting him against the wall.

You're the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Blissful signals of electricity shot through Edward's nerves as his deep spot was being brushed, and then stroked by Alfons, and they both melted into the sheer pleasurable feelings.

Edward's quiet sounds as their hips moved together were like a symphony in Alfons' ears, mixed with the sound of soothing warm shower rain. It was music meant for him only. So beautiful Edward was. His Edward.

Everything is okay. I'll do what I have to do on my own.

Alfons let his hand trail over the scar tissue, kissing the crook of his neck and savouring Edward's flesh hand digging into his back for support. His breath sharpened as he was brought over the edge in warm spasms, and they both released while the hot water flushed their sin away.

I don't want to be scared anymore.

"Alfons." His voice was as low as a whisper, but content.

"Yes?"

"I'm happy I'm such a bad influence on you."


A mere hour later they were parting in the halls of Central Headquarters. Alfons wanted to leave quickly to do what he had to before he changed his mind and fled. But the meaningful look Edward sent him as they went their separate ways made him stop and wait.

"Find me when you have a break," he just said, but Alfons understood the meaning behind the words.

So I can make sure you're still okay.

"I will." Alfons smiled timorously as Edward turned and left, watching his straight back and the long ponytail dangling down his back. In an image from his mind he pulled Edward back and kissed him. He knew he could merely pretend that he kissed Edward in the middle of the halls of HQ, but that was alright. It was still comforting, just like Edward's words had been.

Alfons headed towards Kiehle's office, surprised by how calm and contained he was. He had imagined he would be much more frightened to meet him now than ever. But somehow he wasn't. It's not like he wasn't afraid at all. He wasn't just going to pin the man to the wall, he was late. But still, maybe he was actually a little confident. After today, the Brigadier General would leave him alone. Therefore he coaxed all of his remaining courage out of his belly and knocked at the door without a moment's hesitation.

"Enter," a voice said coldly.

Alfons entered and closed the door behind him, but made sure it didn't lock. If he had to get out fast or call for help, it would of course be better if the door was unlocked.

"Alfons Heiderich," his commanding officer acknowledged easily. There was a condescending smile on his thin lips. "So you decided to show up after all. I was starting to get worried that I would have to come visit again. Although, I'm sure that would have been interesting."

Whatever that meant, Alfons didn't want to know. Feeling disgusted he turned towards Carl R. Kiehle, seeing him sitting by his desk as usual. Vera had been there earlier and left a cup of tea on the table, which made Alfons involuntarily shudder. He'd never drink anything offered from this office ever again.

"Sir," he said. Better get straight to the point before his chance slipped. Alfons took a deep breath. "I'm tired of this game. The reason I'm here is to help this country defeat Thule Society. I'm not doing anything for you."

The Brigadier General stared at him for a moment, taken aback by his words. He hadn't expected this kind of riposte. "Alfons, why don't you come closer? Then we can have a proper talk, since something tells me you've got something on your mind."

Alfons' eyes narrowed. "No." He ought to stay right where he was.

"Then, what game would you be referring to if I dare ask?" Kiehle stood up from his chair. Slowly. Almost warningly.

"The one you're playing right now." Alfons was uncomfortable. The Brigadier General was like a snake that could attack at any moment. There was no turning back. The game was on for real now, because now there were finally two players. Not just one player and one pawn.

Alfons stood still, trying to act calm. He did not under any circumstance intend to encourage a decreasing of distance between them. The door was right behind him. As long as he could dart out any moment he kind of had the upper hand. Although, if the man managed to stop him... Still, he thought that if he managed to play his part right, fleeing wouldn't be necessary.

"I know what you're doing," Alfons said, and he could read the way the man almost froze, not sure if he should stand and listen or go for more violent methods. To Alfons' relief he seemed to go for the first alternative and just listened because he remained at his spot and merely stared curiously at him.

"Really?" he said. Like he didn't actually believe a word, still he was too inquisitive to not play along.

"Were you aware of the documented proof of your corrupted methods of playing?" Alfons challenged. "It didn't take me much time to figure it out."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"First of all, I figured where to start looking when Edward found out that the house you wanted to give me had belonged to a soldier who died in the Ishbal war. You figured you could just take over other people's belongings after they're dead?"

Kiehle snorted through a smile. "What are you trying to do, Alfons? If this is a silly attempt to blackmail me, you have to come up with something better. Old James has nothing to say in the matter, so I doubt anyone would care."

"He was the man you killed," Alfons said.

At this, Kiehle went silent and his eyes hardened. Obviously he hadn't expected Alfons to know about that certain incident.

"Murder is a crime, no matter what circumstance," Alfons continued in a low voice. "And killing him was no accident. You aimed right towards him, to kill the Ishbalans standing behind him."

"How do you know about this?"

"You obviously don't know, but the incident was documented. I've read it all. The report was signed by Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes."

Maes Hughes. It made him think of the police officer in his own world. Once again, he had been saved by a man of that name.

Alfons could literally see the fiery anger burning in Kiehle's steely eyes. "And all that money you've been withdrawing lately, I was getting suspicious that you've buttered someone up to benefit yourself."

Kiehle rested his palms at his desk, a small grin twitching in the corner of his lips. "You've done some homework, Alfons. But this is as far as your intellect will go."

"I think I've figured it out," Alfons informed, to Kiehle's obvious bewilderment. "You've never hid the fact that you've lured me into your grasp, and you made it. I was fooled, and I was used. I didn't have a clue, and I didn't have a choice." He let out a deep sigh. "Then I noticed a lot of the withdrawals were made the day before Edward's first hearing, so you must have been planning everything way ahead. You corrupted someone at the hearing, to make everything go your way. The Judge, the Council, if not all the members; you paid most of them to vote for Edward's execution, right? The irony is, they probably didn't know that the money came from their own pockets in the first place."

Kiehle gritted his teeth. "Impossible."

"You told me you could bring the final decision around if I didn't obey to you, and let Edward get executed after the last hearing even if he was set free. They listened to you because you corrupted them, and then they voted for Edward's freedom so you would have me." His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides. "Technically you've been helping Thule Society all along, and you didn't even know it."

"Do you really think anyone will believe this nonsense?" Kiehle barked.

"I have proof," Alfons snarled. "I will bring it forward to the Fuhrer President myself if I have to. The only thing I want from you is to leave Edward and me alone."

"Proof? A couple of false documents as proof?"

"They're not false," Alfons countered. "Perhaps people will finally see what kind of perverted fraud you are."

There was a silence for a moment. During that time all the thoughts of dread which would usually occur in Alfons' mind pressed forward and took over again. What if it didn't work? What if the Brigadier General had enough influence already to be confident that everyone would take side with him, even now? What if Kiehle simply threatened him to silence again? Kiehle still had some major cards he could use against him.

No, this was a bad idea. Alfons felt his knees shake lightly and his hand moved discreetly towards the door knob.

Before another second managed to go by, Carl R. Kiehle leapt gracefully around his desk and darted straight for his throat.


"Ah, you're as respectful towards working hours as always, Fullmetal," said Colonel Roy Mustang, referring to the younger alchemist's twenty-five minute delay. They were both in his office and the young man had flopped down on his couch shortly after arriving.

"I overslept," Edward excused himself shortly. "More importantly, is there any news yet? This is taking disturbingly long."

Mustang silently agreed with him. "Actually, I have news. But not anything official," he admitted. "It's rather something I've wanted to talk with you about in private." A pair of golden eyes were drawn towards him as the Colonel rose from his desk and stared thoughtfully out the window.

"What is it?"

Mustang turned towards the blond again. "I suspect that the Brigadier General is up to something troublesome."

"Kiehle?" Edward grimaced. "Of course, that guy has been troubling me ever since I first met him, and especially now with the way he is forcing Alfons to work for him." He had still not gotten over that, and he never would.

"I believe the fact is," Mustang started, "that he is plotting to use a new flying machine to enter the Gate."

Edward's eyes widened. "You can't be serious." He had just put the fearful thought of the Amestris State Military planning an attack on the other world to a rest, and now Kiehle was plotting it after all? Maybe even behind the Fuhrer President's back?

"He's always been an awfully vengeful type," Mustang muttered. "And I believe this is his own scheme. Fuhrer President Hakuro isn't aware of it yet. But he might warm up to it if Kiehle persuades him."

Edward sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Which means, even if we get rid of Thule Society, he will suggest that the Gate remains open," Mustang continued. "The Gate will become military property, and until the flying machines are ready he will keep it under protection and prepare for it to be entered."

Edward gawked. "That's impossible. Then he'll do exactly what Thule Society is doing here to in the other world. He can't—!"

Mustang lifted a hand to stop him. "That's right. But luckily for us, we still have some time. This new flying machine hasn't been built yet. But to make sure we manage to close the Gate first, you must ask Alfons to stop working for Kiehle."

"Stop working for him?" Edward's eyes narrowed. "Isn't that a little easier said than done? There's no way that bastard will accept it."

Mustang sighed deeply. "Alfons' current situation is not all known to me, but I know Kiehle is using him mainly for his benefit, which I know isn't Alfons' own will."

"What do you mean?" Edward asked angrily. "Of course it isn't! But what is he supposed to do? That bastard made him sign that bloody contract. If Alfons disobeys him, the military will get a reason to punish him for not following their orders!"

Mustang sighed and rubbed his temple, knowing that he was right. "You won't like this suggestion, but there's only one way to turn the tables concerning Alfons."

"And what is that?"

"He has to die."

Edward's heart stopped for a couple of seconds and he gawked at Mustang. Golden eyes searched his raven, as to figure out if this was some sort of bad joke. "Colonel?"

"The only way of saving him is to arrange his death. That way, he'll be free to do whatever he wants." Mustang stepped away from the window, towards the couch. "Before the Brigadier General manages to harm him any further."

Edward's eyes were as wide as saucers. "What are you saying, Colonel? What exactly has the Brigadier General made Alfons do?"

"I don't know," Roy admitted. But something had happened that day before he met him in the hall after the working hours. Although, he didn't mention that to his subordinate. "The point is, if he thinks Alfons is dead he won't be able to do anything to him or make him build another flying machine." He sighed deeply again. "I was the first one who wished for and suggested that the military should have flying machines, but I've realized that I've been wrong. The power will only be misused in a country like Amestris, just like the power of alchemy has been misused in war before." He laid a hand on Edward's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Do you understand? Fleeing from the army won't do. You've already tried that, and you know what happened. It will be the same for Alfons. If he deserts them, his betrayal will lead to his execution."

Edward looked away, his palms curled into fists, trembling lightly. Even the metal one. He still hadn't told the Colonel about the Gate altering people's memories of Alfons. If the military found out the truth about Alfons, they wouldn't just kill him. Right afterwards everyone would simply forget about him. It hurt more than Edward could even imagine. He couldn't let any of this happen.

"That's why they have to believe that he is dead. That way they won't look for him. Alfons should do something else, somewhere else. And you will join him whenever you can. Won't that be better?"

Edward closed his eyes and his fists unclenched. "You're right." He rose fast from the couch. "But if that bastard has done anything to Alfons, I'll fucking kill him."

"Don't do anything rushed," the Colonel shot in. "I need to figure out how to arrange his death in the most effective way. And I need to speak with Alfons himself as soon as—"

The door abruptly flew open and interrupted him. "Colonel!" Riza Hawkeye said, looking disturbingly bewildered. "Forgive me for interrupting. I just got a call from the Fuhrer President. Something has happened. Line 1."

Mustang frowned and grabbed the phone. "Colonel Mustang speaking, sir."

"All the men from the Thule-mission are reported missing," Hakuro said in the other end. His voice sounded riled up. "It is unknown what happened to them. When my man tried to reach their radio, the contact was cut off."

His gloved palm clutched tightly around the phone. That didn't sound promising...

Hakuro continued. "Bring Fullmetal and attend in the meeting room immediately."

"Yes, sir," Mustang replied. This really came up at a bad time.

Edward stared at him with question in his amber eyes. "News on the mission?" Hawkeye stood beside him, looking worried. She had already read it in his eye.

"They're missing," Mustang said. "I think I'm right in assuming that the unit is either killed or captured by the enemy."

"So Thule is active up there, alright," Edward muttered. Another reason to go there soon and clean things up! he thought annoyed.

"We have to attend a meeting – right now," Mustang instructed.

"What about Alfons?" the blond asked heatedly.

"I have to take care of that later," Mustang replied, actually feeling a little stressed.

Just about then the thundering sound came, droning in the distance. From the sky. Edward heard it first, quirking his head up with a small gasp. Mustang took notice that the sound that wasn't normal. It wasn't thunder, it was an endless mechanic drone which wasn't supposed to be there.

Edward jolted for the window, his eyes narrowing towards the open morning sky. Mustang and Hawkeye went fast forward to stand on each side of him and stared out at the clear, blue sky.

In the distance there was a black spot, moving in soothing motion across the sky, but awfully low. They could already see it clearly.

"Thule Society," Edward confirmed in a low voice.

Then the phone started ringing again.


Everything was happing incredibly fast. One moment Carl R. Kiehle had been speaking, and the next he was over his desk coming straight at him. Alfons wanted his legs to move, but they wouldn't listen to him. His hand moved quickly towards the door knob, but not quick enough. Just as he managed to get the heavy door open, Kiehle's hand slammed into the wood and pressed the door shut. In a split second after he twisted the key and locked it. The key disappeared somewhere into his pocket.

"HELP—" Alfons started yelling, but Kiehle pressed a hand against his mouth swiftly, pushing his head back into the hard wood of the door with a thump and choking his scream.

"I'm disappointed in you, Alfons," Kiehle said. "Highly disappointed. I thought I could trust you, being my subordinate. But you have betrayed me." He sighed, regarding Alfons' desperate attempt to pry his hands off. "Maybe I should have seen it coming, since you're of that kind after all."

Alfons managed to twist out of his grip and darted away from the door, gaining some distance while he breathed rapidly to regain some air for his lungs. This didn't look good. He was trapped. But at least he had gained a couple of metres of distance between them, though he wondered if he only had managed to do that because Kiehle had let him. Like a cat playing with its food. He figured he'd better make Kiehle keep talking while he tried to come up with something of a plan.

"That kind?" he repeated shakily.

"That's right," Kiehle spat. "Like those monstrous terrorists from Thule Society. First Peterson, now you. You're the exact same kind." The man gnashed his teeth together and added lowly: "Give me a reason not to just kill you right now."

Alfons' heart leaped up in his throat. Kill him? He couldn't do that, could he? But to Alfons' dread there was nothing in the Brigadier General's steel eyes that told him he wouldn't do it. Alfons lowered slowly into a defence position. He knew he had to put up a real fight now. He would need everything Edward had ever taught him. He lifted his hands in front of him.

Kiehle stepped quickly into an attack, swinging a leg towards his head. His heel blew past Alfons' temple, as he managed to duck just in time and darted to the side in an attempt to get behind the man. Strike the weak point behind his knees. Get him to the ground. But the Brigadier General was fast despite being much bigger than him.

"The scenario is perfect, isn't it?" Kiehle grinned, seeing what Alfons' tactic was, and never let him out of his front-sight while he repeatedly punched and kicked to weaken his younger opponent. "I figured you out, what you've been doing all along. Spying on the Amestris military on behalf of the terrorists. The proof is in the records. Mustang will be paying a high price for covering for you, and the higher-ups will thank me for killing you right away."

Alfons was too slow and received a hard strike against his nose. His head whipped back, but he managed to regain his balance, in spite of feeling something warm and moist running down his lip, tasting iron. His chances were small, he knew that.

Ignoring the pain, he straightened up and tried to think of a fast way to beat him. Right now might be his only chance, now that the man was close enough that he could strike back and was partly off guard since he didn't think Alfons was much capable of fighting, especially not after having been hit like that.

Alfons took advantage of being underestimated and shot out his fist towards the man's gut, managing to hit, but judging by the man's body language the punch hadn't caused all too much damage.

Kiehle caught his wrist instead, pulling him closer. "Is that all?" he sneered through his evil grin.

Panicking, Alfons pulled desperately at his arm in an attempt to free himself. He had known it the moment Kiehle had spoken the words considering the records. The military would never believe his story over Kiehle's. Alfons' identity files were false, and the people Kiehle had already corrupted would probably deny the truth as well in fear of being exposed. He should've known that his plan was meant to fail, just because of that. Still, he wouldn't submit and give up either. That would only please the man even more. And he wasn't ready to die just yet.

"Are you sure those records are still there?" Alfons bluffed, abruptly shooting his captured arm sideways and twisted it, something Kiehle didn't expect, and his narrow eyes magnified a little as he figured out what Alfons was about to do.

Alfons shot his other hand forward to add pressure on Kiehle's elbow, and Kiehle quickly let go of him to avoid getting his arm twisted by the elbow. Alfons' own arm hurt from his own action, but at least he had managed to get free. He jumped back to regain some distance, clutching his own aching arm.

"Not a bad trick," Kiehle complimented. "But you won't accomplish anything by hurting yourself all the same."

Alfons was silent and wary, his mind racing to come up with any other ideas. He was starting to run out.

"And yes, I'm pretty sure that the records about you are there still," Kiehle said. "Even if you've managed to get to them, the copies are still securely hidden in the Fuhrer President's own archives."

They had copies... Even if Alfons managed to tell Mustang or Scheiska to get rid of it all before it was too late, it would be no use. Mustang would still be held in charge and be punished for it.

"That's how it is," Kiehle said smugly. "So now, be a good boy and stop this pointless struggle." The man lunged abruptly forward, making Alfons' breath hitch.

All he could do was dodge. Fists flew by his head at incredible speed, and he saw no openings to attack back. His back suddenly hit the wall on the other side of the room. He had been pressed this far back already? Thinking fast, Alfons managed to evade the next attack by a split second, making Kiehle's fist slam into the wall instead of hitting his face.

"Killing me won't do," Alfons radiated frantically, ducking right underneath Kiehle's arm and darted over the couch to get away again – desperately avoiding getting cornered. But that was hard inside an office.

Kiehle chased right behind him. "And why is that?" he shot back curiously.

Alfons stopped abruptly by the desk, trying to find something he could use to defend himself with. But he found nothing. He turned, seeing Kiehle had stopped pursuing him and simply stood there grinning.

"Please do tell me," he continued.

Alfons swallowed, the edge of the desk pressing into the small of his back. "D-Do you think I'm the only one who knows about your dirty methods?"

Kiehle's eyes narrowed sharply. "Hm, you do have a point there. Assuming that you haven't already told anyone wouldn't be wise. So," – his smile came back – "who can it be?"

"I'll never tell you," Alfons stated.

"Well, there are only three possibilities," Kiehle reasoned. "The first one is Mustang." He took a step towards Alfons, who didn't move from the desk. "But I find that to be the unlikeliest alternative. Yes, Mustang knows a lot already, but he won't use the information he already knows because he is a soft coward. But I guess he wouldn't hesitate to report me if he knew of this one, and that hasn't happened yet."

Alfons didn't reply. He knew to some extent what Kiehle was referring to. It had something to do with the time Mustang witnessed him killing their own and the group of Ishbalans. But he didn't know why Mustang would still keep it secret on behalf of Kiehle.

"The second possibility," Kiehle continued with another step closer, "is of course our dear Edward. But I don't think he knows either. He is way too blunt for input like this; he would already be here and confront me in rage."

Alfons' discomfort was a fact and he moved to the side to increase the distance between them yet again. Until now the man's reasoning had been awfully close to the truth. After thinking it over, Kiehle had always been considerably omniscient.

"The remaining possibility is," the man continued lightly, "the little brother. It's quite obvious now that I think about it. He saw me confronting you at home yesterday, and then you were forced to tell him something, isn't that right? So, did you two decide to try and get me off your back?"

Alfons shook his head. "No... No."

The Brigadier General shot forward like a poisonous snake, gripping around his throat and pressed him back against the wall. Alfons choked and clutched his thin fingers around the deadly grip. The pressure tightened, blocking his air, making him gag.

"I'm right, am I not? Oh, I guess that fact forces me to take measurements concerning little Alphonse as well, don't you think? After I've gotten rid of you, I have to do something to him so he doesn't tell his beloved commanding officer. He's at home now, I reckon, still lying sick in his bed, poor boy. Isn't that right?"

Alfons grit his teeth while struggling fiercely, scratching at the arm and kicking about. His feet didn't any longer have contact with the solid ground, and he felt his lungs starting to shriek. Still that wasn't his biggest concern. Was he really planning to hurt Al?

"It would be easy. I'd go straight home to your place, find him sleeping and I'd wake him with a hand around his small throat, and force him to spill what he knows. From here follows some quite thrilling possibilities. I could easily take him like I took you, and force him to silence to protect his sweet brother's life. Or maybe a terrible accident occurs and poor Alphonse dies? Pity."

"Ba-s-tard!" Alfons managed.

"Or perhaps I could take him straight to the lab? That would be more beneficial after all. He'd make a very good lab rat."

Alfons thrashed against the wall and shook his head. He couldn't let this man do something to Al. Not him. He cared about Al. He tried to kick the man right in the gut, but Kiehle simply knocked his leg right back towards the wall and his free hand clutched around his crotch.

Alfons whimpered weakly in response.

"But first of all," the Brigadier General said. "I'll take a proper farewell with you. I have enjoyed you for the short time I could, and I'll do it one last time." He removed his hands from Alfons and dropped him, making him hunch over and cough while heaving for his breath.

The floor had hit his knees, and while Alfons regained his composure and gathering his mind all together, he figured out the meaning of those last words. His eyes widened. No.

While standing over him, Carl R. Kiehle started removing his belt. "You still belong to me, and no one is going to save you." He curved down and twisted Alfons' arms behind his back so abruptly that he screamed.

"Before you die, I'll make sure you will regret betraying me."

"Stop," Alfons said terrified. He twisted his arms in an attempt to loosen the grip, but Kiehle had started tying them together with his belt. "Stop! HELP!" In the end he was yelling his lungs out, but no one seemed to hear him or even knocking on the door to see what was happening.

Kiehle pulled him up to his trembling feet, shoving him towards the desk. "I'll make sure you get a pleasuring end, even if you don't deserve it for going against me."

Alfons was pressed facedown onto the desk while twisting and kicking his feet, his arms helplessly immobilized. "You're sick! Get off of me!" This couldn't be happening. Not again. He wouldn't take it. He wouldn't be able to keep it contained inside him anymore. Although, why was he worrying about spilling everything to Edward if he was going to get killed anyway?

Alfons gritted his teeth and clutched his eyes shut and Kiehle's molesting hands pressed down onto his lower back and felt their way towards the front of his trousers. Freaking pervert!

"Stop this," Alfons said in a low voice. His mind was racing. "Al is probably calling Mustang right now," he lied. "If he didn't hear from me for half an hour, I told him to assume that something had happened to me."

Kiehle stopped slowly. "You're lying."

"Try me," Alfons spat, sounding as disgusted as he were. Even without any free arms he kept attempting to push himself off from the desk.

In return Kiehle pressed down an elbow between his shoulder blades, making him gasp and struggle to retain his breath for a couple of seconds.

"I don't believe you," Kiehle whispered in his ear and licked his lips. "I'll take that risk. It's not like anyone will barge in here, and I'm pretty certain you didn't think this through, you couldn't know what I am capable of before you came into my office today. Too bad for you, Alfons."

Alfons gritted his teeth and attempted to twist away again along with a distressed growl.

"I understand I need to take some extra measurements to keep you from fighting against me," Kiehle whirred. He drew his gun from the holster around his waist, and before Alfons could even think, Kiehle thrust the barrel of the gun into his mouth.

Petrified in shock, he gagged on the intruding pointed metal and his struggles weakened a little.

"Yes, be a good boy and shut up now," Kiehle purred into his ear, making him shudder. "Let this moment be a countdown to your death, right from this very second. I'll fuck you while holding this gun into your mouth, and you will submit. You will even take your own enjoyment in it, I'll make sure. And the moment you come, I will pull the trigger and kill you. Your last moment will contain the most humiliating way of pleasure. That will be my last gift to you."

It tasted of iron and murder and by the sickening speech Alfons was sure he was going to start vomiting any second. There was blood on the desk before him. It had probably dripped from his nose. Nothing could make him come in this condition, he was sure. But he would die anyway. He would still die in shame.

Concentrating on breathing despite the throbbing pain and the metal gagging him, Alfons was forced to still down in his position. He couldn't move away or keep it from happening. All he could do was to keep the curved stance over the desk, smell his own blood and feel the taste of death. Still, his arms struggled against the restraints, refusing to give in.

Kiehle didn't pain any attention to his struggling anymore, his hand rather regaining its mission of molesting his body and heading for his fly. His pants and shorts were pulled down to his knees and cold hand was grouping his flesh.

Alfons let out a low muffled cry which probably sounded pretty pathetic and cringed down towards the cold wood, curling his fingers helplessly into fists behind his back. He was powerless. And Kiehle was right. No one would save him this time either. No one knew what was happening. No one could hear him.

"So nice and soft," Kiehle grinned from above, his palm stroking his ass while keeping the gun in place with the other. Alfons quivered and wanted to die right now rather than getting violated like this.

Suddenly Kiehle's hand stung against his flesh with a loud SLAP. Alfons started with his eyes wide. An itching burn prickled on his skin. The flat of Kiehle's palm darted down again, harder this time, making Alfons whimper through the curb. It hurt, a maddening pain, a frustrating itching. For each downward stroke, Alfons unwillingly jerked his body in response. Something of a reaction his brain made him do. His brain wanted to get away. To just let go of the body and abandon it to be humiliated on its own.

The striking ceased. He heard the sound of ruffling clothes, and he knew the Brigadier General was opening his own fly.

"I'm getting hard just by watching you squirm," Kiehle whispered. "Although, I imagine you might be too tight down there without some proper preparation." He removed the gun from Alfons' mouth, causing him to breathe raggedly through his opened airway.

"I'll make sure to prepare you. If you scream, my finger might pull the trigger by accident, and I'm sure you'll feel the pain throughout before you die."

No, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't do this.

"This will loosen you up." The barrel stroked over his cheeks, and Kiehle's voice muttered sickly in his ear. "Now, moan. Moan and cry as much as you want." He chuckled and Alfons felt the hard slick steel poking his flesh and pressing in between his cheeks. He clutched his eyes shut again.

No, no, no... Why didn't anyone come to save him? Why hadn't he told Al to call Mustang? Why hadn't he told Edward anything? Edward would be the last person who saw him alive, apart from this creep. He could only think of the last image in his memory of Edward, his beautiful frame turning away from him to head for the office, and his ponytail dangling down his back. What if he had kissed him right there in the hallway?

The first thrust hurt so much that he almost passed out. No preparation at all. The second was spreading the pain further to his entire body from his spinal cords, and he wanted to scream and die. Still, he could only lay motionless as Kiehle fucked him with the barrel of the gun. The only movement he dared do was twisting his wrists in their bindings.

"Soon I'll fuck you while you suck my gun clean," Kiehle droned into his ear. "The last thing you'll feel is the edge of your orgasm. Then I'll kill you."

Alfons clutched his eyes shut and didn't want to listen. He would never get off from this. And he would never open his mouth in front of this man again. Never, never, never!

Oh please, God, just listen to me this once. I don't want to die like this.

Kiehle moaned behind him, and Alfons realized the man was stroking himself while violating him.

With one last tug, he managed to slip free from his restraints and supported himself against the desk with shaking hands. The cold pointed steel hit one of his deepest walls and his breath hitched out in pain. Even if his arms were free he couldn't escape. He felt like he was ripping. Like he was tearing up inside. He wanted it to stop. He wanted it to be over. He was bleeding.

Then suddenly a miracle happened. Alfons didn't know if he had passed out and dreamed it or if he actually heard it.

Someone knocked hard on the door.

"Open up!" someone ordered out loud on the other side. Was something about that voice familiar?

Kiehle had abruptly stopped what he was doing and quickly dressed himself properly. The gun was removed from Alfons' rectum, but the man still placed a tight grip around his neck, warning him from screaming. "Who is it?" he called, sounding irritated.

"Open up the door, or I'll blast it open!"

Alfons' eyes widened marginally. It couldn't be...

"You've been warned!" the voice called. Two seconds later the door sprung open along with the familiar sound of alchemy and powerful blue sparkles surrounded the person in the doorway.

Alfons took a deep breath and opened his eyes to confirm his suspicions. Even if his vision was just a blur, he found out that he was right.

Edward stepped forward, his eyes as hard as a pair of burning bullions and heaving for his breath like he had been running. Then he noticed the actual situation going on in the office and his golden eyes magnified. Filled with fiery anger and disbelief. But surprisingly, he kept himself contained enough to speak.

"Kiehle..." he said dangerously. "Get away from him. Now."

Kiehle gritted his teeth at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Edward didn't reply. He stepped closer. "I said... GET. THE FUCK. AWAY FROM HIM!"

He lunged forward towards the desk, gracefully jumped onto it without stepping on Alfons and shot his metal leg right towards Brigadier General Kiehle's face. Kiehle was unable to dodge him and fell flat on his back on the floor. Edward leapt down and landed on top of him, gripping his collar and lifted a ready fist.

"I'll fucking kill you," he snarled. "If you've as much as touched him."

Kiehle stared at him without replying. Still, Edward could read it in his eyes. His breath hitched slightly and his eyes widened even further before he exploded like a time bomb.

"YOU FUCKING SCUM!" Edward swung his fist of metal forward, seeing blazing red and hitting the man hard right at his nose. The man's head got flung back, and he closed his eyes. "How dare you?" The metal fist shot down again, but this time the man didn't respond at all.

Edward gritted his teeth and wanted to continue hitting him with all he had, his blooded fist still ready and shaking in the air. But his breath escaped him and his hand lowered. Kiehle was already unconscious. He wanted the man to feel real pain. "Just wait you damned lowlife," he muttered. "I'll pay you back with every scrap of pain you've inflicted on him. Just wait." Hurriedly he let go of the lax man and rushed to Alfons' side.

Alfons had collapsed on the floor, unable to keep himself upright. This was too much... He didn't want Edward to know. He didn't want Edward to see him like this. But now he knew, there was no other explanation, and at the same time Alfons felt... relieved.

"Alfons! God damn it, you're a mess." Edward probably referred to the blood. Or maybe the fact that he was half naked. Alfons trembled on the floor, feeling terribly ashamed. And grateful.

Edward gripped tightly around his shoulders, and urging him upright, and then settled to dry off some blood underneath Alfons' nose with the sleeve of his shirt. "What the fuck did he do to you...?" Edward's eyes were deranged, near panic. It was obvious what he had done to him, he knew it. "That bastard, I swear I'll kill him!"

Alfons didn't know what to say. He didn't want to be exposed now that he had a choice, so he quickly dressed himself properly without a word and without meeting his eyes. Still his legs refused to carry him so he remained sitting on his knees. Meanwhile Edward grabbed him by the shoulders again.

"Look at me," he said.

Alfons' eyes raised slowly to look at him, although he couldn't for long before his blue eyes started tearing up.

Edward's amber ones were intense, and never faltered. "Are you hurt? Can you stand?"

"Edward," Alfons whispered. "I'm sorry..."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Don't say that."

"But..." He was shaking terribly. "I am sorry..." Then he broke, hunching down and hiding his face away with his hands, but Edward pulled his hands apart.

"Alfons, pull yourself together! This is not your fault and you know it. For fuck's sake... That bastard is going to die for touching you! I'm going to—" He interrupted himself as he suddenly heard some movement behind him, and quickly he started pulling Alfons to his feet. "Stand up, or I'll have to carry you!" To his relief, Alfons managed to stand and Edward pushed him towards the door. Alfons didn't need to see what he was about to do now.

Edward twisted around fast. Towards his new official enemy. He was met by the cold eyes, shooting lightening of wrath through his blooded face.

"Great, you're awake," Edward muttered. "Now I can finally beat you up so you really feel it."

Kiehle supported himself on one hand, drying off some blood with the other. "My secretary will be back soon and call for reinforcements," he threatened. "You're as good as dead, alchemist. So is your little boyfriend."

Edward glared. "You raped him, you sick fuck."

"So what?" Kiehle scoffed. "He practically signed up for it."

"Because you made him!" Edward bellowed.

"No. Because of your foolishness." Kiehle grinned cruelly. "I should thank you, really. It was a perfect opportunity for me."

Edward let out a short gasp and his eyes blazed into wildfire once again. Alfons supported himself against the desk, his eyes still in light shock, as Edward threw himself into a fierce fight with the man.

"Edward..." he whispered. What was he doing? Shouldn't they get away? What should he do? He was too dazed to move. What if Edward really killed him? Nothing would come out of it...

Edward shot out a leg, which Kiehle dodged, and Edward resolved by clapping his hands and sent a spear of wood towards Kiehle's gut, but Kiehle chopped the thin spear in half with his hand before it reached him. Edward never let the man return an attack and shot out his metal fist into another unswerving hit at his stomach.

For a while it was Edward who got in the most damage, even if it was mostly out of rage rather than dexterity, at least until Kiehle finally fell back on the floor and drew his gun out. Edward was about to leap at him again, but stopped dead as the barrel pointed straight towards his chest. The man was bleeding, but his eyes still looked very aware and very angry.

At that Alfons managed to react and shouted desperately. "Edward, run!"

"Sleep, boy," Kiehle snarled.

Edward moved fast to the right the same moment as Kiehle fired, knowing that if he had stood still he would've been done for. It was like it all happened in slow motion, and then a sharp pain pierced his left arm. He gritted his teeth and ignored it for the time being.

He realized, this was becoming too dangerous. He couldn't keep Alfons around this trigger-happy maniac rapist. He knew Alfons wouldn't leave the room without him, even if he told him to.

He clapped and darted towards Kiehle again as the man rose to his feet, before he could direct the gun towards Alfons, and grabbed onto its barrel with his metal hand. A sparkling alchemic reaction deformed the barrel and curved it sideways, making it impossible to fire.

Kiehle growled in frustration and swung his arm to punch Edward, but the younger blocked it with his injured left arm and quickly shot out his right. He got a direct hit, hard enough to make Kiehle's head grow dizzy, and he quickly darted his metal foot behind the man as the older sagged backwards. Kiehle tripped over Edward's foot and landed heavily on his back on the floor.

That would do for now.

Losing no time, Edward turned around with his metal hand pressed against his wound on his upper left arm and quickly leaped up towards a paralyzed Alfons.

Edward grabbed his arm and continued to run, out of the office, down the hall towards the elevator. Hell, there was so much more he wanted to do to that bastard, he could hardly think straight! For now, the grip around Alfons' hand tightened. He needed to get him to a safe place.

"Edward," Alfons squeaked, starting to come out of his trance as he was dragged into the elevator, but still not contained enough to be calm. Rather in deep shock. "You're shot! You're bleeding!" He cursed his own communication ability for the time being and pressed his hands at his temples, watching Edward's blood. "I'm—It's my fault! I shouldn't have—I don't know what—I'm sorr—!"

Edward stopped him abruptly by pressing his lips against his faster than the doors were shut, probably to silence his panic. Alfons breathed in fast and stood still.

It was like the time stopped. Edward's lips moved soothingly against his, and he was clearly ignoring the fact that his blood was more or less pulsing out of his arm, onto the floor by their feet.

Alfons couldn't stop shaking. He carefully wrapped an arm around his lover's neck and tried to press carefully against his wound to stop the bleeding with the other. If he lost any more blood now...

Edward ached a little against him. "Alfons, don't worry about me," he muttered. The pain throbbed, but what the hell did that matter... Even if he was still a little shaken, the only thing he could worry about was Alfons. He seemed to be in one piece, but that didn't mean he was okay. Fuck! This wound was nothing compared to what Alfons had been through. And he had never even seen it...

That bastard Kiehle... he had raped him.

"He's going to die..." he snarled.

If he ever got his hands on him again, he would pay. He had used Alfons in the worst way imaginable. Edward would never forgive that man. He would make sure he got what he deserved. But later. Alfons' safety came first.

"No please, Edward... and I can't not worry!" Alfons let go of him and stared at him with panic-stricken, teary eyes. "Everything is my fault. I thought I had a plan... I thought I could handle it. But he... I couldn't tell you anything. I'm..."

Edward locked his arms tightly around him again, and Alfons felt his metal fingers twine into his hair. Just like this morning.

"I know," Edward whispered. "I understand now."

Alfons pressed his face, even if it hurt, into the crook of his neck. Edward understood... Relief gushed over him. "I've never been this scared in my whole life," he admitted.

"I know," Edward repeated. "I was scared too." He felt Alfons' trembling, and it made him shudder. He had seen Alfons being hurt before, but now it was almost more than he could bear. "Alfons... are you alright? Does it hurt?" He knew the questions were ridiculous. Of course it hurt!

Alfons swallowed a couple of times. Tried somehow to calm down. Breathe. "I'll be okay... But... he'll be after us now," he said, still shaking. "He'll kill us. He was going to kill me... and he shot you."

Edward's metal hand stroked his back. "Don't worry. It won't be that easy. He can't just kill us without destroying his own reputation. Besides, he'll never get any more chances."

Alfons finally pulled back to meet his eyes. Even after all this, Edward still remained confident.

"What do you mean?"

Determined amber eyes met his azure. "We have a plan. And... there's something I have to tell you."