Chapter 11: Missing Memories
--
As he slowly dove up from various layers of sleep, Alphonse Elric awakened, blinking at the sharp light of a glistening fire. And he felt nothing.
He heard movements and voices around him, and decided to stay still for some moments, until he could figure out exactly where he was. Twisting his head carefully to the side, he got a glimpse of a torch on the dark wall. His heart literally sank inside. He was back in his own world. He had been unable to come to the other side of the Gate. His brother would never be nearer his reach than he had been inside the Gate, where their souls somehow had managed to arrange a meeting.
And somehow Al was pleased with that. He knew that his brother was alive now. Envy had been lying to him. He must have. Envy had only wanted to break him. Colonel Roy Mustang had said that Edward was too stubborn to die. Al believed that too. Now Al knew for sure that Edward had survived the human transmutation he had performed on him.
The yelling around him got louder, and curious of what was going on, he twisted his head very carefully. He could see the Gate, as he laid some metres away from it. He gasped.
Black arms were once again standing up from the Gate on the floor. But this time they didn't reach for anyone. They were holding something.
He could spot a lax body, dressed in a red coat, as the black arms were curling all around him. But something was different. They seemed to move away, pulling back, and each second one of the hands let go of his body.
His body!
If his body was over there... how could he be all the way over here?
Al twisted his head again and watched down himself. He let out another sharp gasp. He was just a soul ... inside a stuffed animal.
He finally remembered his transmutation. He had done it without anyone seeing – transmuted a potion of his soul into the teddy bear Eckart had repaired with alchemy. He was a teddy bear. But it didn't seem like anyone had noticed that the stuffed toy slightly had moved by itself.
Now Al could only watch as the Gate returned the rest of him – which probably explained why the Thule people had been yelling. They wondered what was going on. And why he was returning like this.
Schiller stepped in front of them, eyeing his lax, pale body, and Al swallowed.
"I'll take him," he said tonelessly, and went straight towards the Gate. No one said anything against it.
Even Dietlinde Eckart didn't say anything as Schiller reached for Al, and pulled him out of the remaining grasps. Almost gently, Schiller arranged his arms under his back and knees, and turned away from the Gate. All the black hands pulled away and disappeared to where they had come from, leaving the Gate silent, only swirling around in circles of yellow and white.
Eckart stepped up to Schiller, crossing her arms. "What are you intending to do, Schiller?" she asked sternly. "That boy will not help us anymore. It's a miracle that he has returned alive."
"Which must mean," Schiller said, "that he is not supposed to die yet."
Eckart burst out in a short laugh. "Fine. You can do what you want with him. But if he causes any more trouble or escapes, you'll ruin the purpose of our destiny and risk both our mission and our lives."
"I won't," Schiller said.
Al followed him with his black button-eyes as he walked off towards the door with the stairs. He mentally swore. Schiller was taking his body back to the cell, and there was nothing he could do. Even if his mind was free temporarily, his body was still a prisoner.
He shifted and fixed his eyes back in the room.
"Prepare the vessel," Eckart said. "We're heading to Central."
Al let out another gasp. She had lied to him. He should have known they wouldn't just stop the attacks. They just wanted an escape route after they were through with their purpose in this world. They would continue and continue, until everyone was dead. And then, then they would leave this world with cold hearts.
"Yes, ma'am," the soldiers said, saluting. The soldiers disappeared for another room, leaving Eckart and another man.
"Let's check upon the weather," Eckart said to him, smiling.
He nodded. "Of course, ma'am."
They went in another direction than the others, and Al reacted quickly. He started moving, first one stuffed foot, then the other, and then he pushed himself up on two small stuffed animal-hands. This wasn't so bad.
He stood up on his small feet and started running after Dietlinde Eckart.
"I feel bad for Hermann and Müller," the man said, probably addressing the two men that had been taken as sacrifices to the Gate. "They didn't deserve to die like that."
"Do you remember what Hohenheim once said?" Eckart asked, and Al mentally went pale.
"He said a lot of things."
Eckart smiled. "He told me that people and objects that don't belong in this world, will be damned by the Gate and whenever the Gate gets its chance, it will remove the overflow to contain a balance."
The man gave it some thought. "What you are saying, is that we are the overflow that the Gate wants to remove?"
Eckart smile went wider. "That's correct. What you must understand, Fischer, is that we're risking our lives for the greater good. And as long as we destroy them first, we will be safe to live a fulfilling life again."
"Yes, Chairman Eckart, I understand," Fischer said.
"Though, he only said it to keep me from coming here," Eckart chuckled.
Al would have frowned if he could. This was absurd! Why wouldn't they just leave?
He had never known his father, Van Hohenheim. But clearly Thule Society knew quite well about him. Which meant that his father might have been in the other world, all these years? Was that the reason why he had never returned home? Not even for their mother's funeral?
He remembered Edward had been bitter and furious. They had sent Hohenheim and the military letters, and never gotten any reply. No one could have possibly known. Even the military couldn't have known that he was in another world.
What if Edward had met their father in the other world?
Al's heart lightened by the thought. What if they had started a new life?
Now Al was even more determined than ever to find out how he could get to the other world. Maybe he could find out how Thule was doing it, and then he could follow and live together with his brother and father.
But first thing's first. His tiny legs went like a pair of drumsticks to keep up with the two ahead of him. On top of that, he had to make sure to stay low in case they turned around and noticed him. Luckily for him, his feet didn't make any sounds even in these empty echoing halls.
They were getting close to a door, and Al took up his speed. If they closed the door in front of him, he wouldn't be able to hear anything more.
Fischer unlocked the door and held it up for his mistress. And as he followed her inside, Al threw himself inside just in time as the door went shut.
Al crawled underneath a sofa, and peeked up to get an overlook of the rest of the room. He gasped.
Along the entire inner wall of the room, there was a console panel with many screens on the wall. On the screens he could see images of different places. He recognized some of them. One of the images showed the famous fountain in Lior. One of the other was from Central. They had even an image showing the outside of Central Headquarters.
Al visibly shuddered. Somehow they had technology that made them able to observe different places on screens like this, live. He had never seen anything like it.
Eckart picked up a speaker. "The weather is good in Central this morning," she said cheerfully. "When will you be ready?"
"We're ready now, ma'am," someone replied. "We will arrive at Central in half an hour."
"Splendid," she said. She turned to Fischer. "Why don't we make some lunch and watch the screens together," she suggested.
"Sounds like a great idea," Fischer replied.
They were mad, eating lunch and watching a war on a screen. A teddy bear couldn't feel sick, but Al was. He wouldn't be surprised if he started vomiting balls of cotton, but he managed to stay silent as their feet passed by the sofa heading towards the door. As they left the room, he still stayed underneath the sofa, not moving to follow them. As soon as the door was shut, he leaped up to his small, furry feet and ran across the floor towards the console.
If there were anything he could do, he would do it. He could warn Central Headquarters. If he found a radio or a phone, he could send out a signal.
He stopped underneath, watching up the wall of the machine, trying to sort out how he could get up there. His small button eyes fell on a chair with wheels standing by the console panel. He ran for it and started pushing it with all his strength, to have it stand right next to the controls. The chair moved all so slowly. It was heavy, but Al hadn't the ability to feel tired or exhausted, so it didn't matter. It moved, and after some seconds the chair stood in the position he wanted it. He started climbing up the chair, struggling to make his small teddy bear arms get a grip around things in order to climb.
Al was feeling quite weird, being just a portion of his own soul inside a dead thing. But he knew he had lived like this for four years, only that it had been a suit of armour. Somehow the feeling of it wasn't so unfamiliar. It was almost as he could remember how it was to be a soul trapped in a suit of armour.
He shook his big, furry teddy bear head and climbed up onto the chair seat. He stood up and looked around to make sure he was still alone. Then he continued climbing up the back of the chair. After some mere minutes of struggling, he reached the console station and crawled on top of it.
The chance of being caught would be high now, a voice deep inside his mind told him. At least they couldn't hurt him as a stuffed animal. He fixed his mind and concentration on all the buttons in front of him.
He had never seen a control panel before. He wasn't sure what to do, but he didn't have time to think too much. In half an hour Central would be bombed, and people would get hurt if no one warned the Headquarters.
Al leaped over to the radio that Eckart had used, and turned it on. The radio sparked, and he found the button to change frequencies. He didn't know how to find out which frequency Central HQ was using, but he decided to try out if he could find something. As he turned on the button, all he could hear was noise. He quickly turned it off again. Someone would probably hear the noise and catch him before he could send out any signal. He sighed. Then his eyes fell on a phone. Second best choice. That had to do.
He ran towards it and lifted off the receiver with some effort considering his short arms. Then he watched the wheel of numbers. Calling Granny wouldn't be much help. So the only other option was Mustang. Hopefully he would have ways to track a call fast.
Al used both of his hands and turned the wheel to dial the correct number. It took some time, but finally he heard the tone humming inside the receiver.
He breathed out deep. It was going to be okay. They would know he was alive and track the call to Thule's location, and then he would be saved.
Just as a voice replied the phone, the door went up and Al jumped. He didn't feel anything as his body hit the floor, except frustration and confusion.
"What's going on here?" Dietlinde Eckart said, her sharp emerald eyes wandering from the phone to the teddy bear on the floor. She went fast to the phone and disconnected it.
Al felt weak, and his body was shaking. The transmutation was about to wear off.
Dietlinde Eckart frowned and picked him up, clenching his neck in her palm. "You'll be punished," she whispered.
--
"What's wrong, Nii-san?" he asked, mentally smiling by his older brother's deep sigh. They were standing in the rain outside Eastern Headquarters, just having returned from an unsuccessful search after the Philosopher's Stone in Lior.
"Can't you guess?" Edward said, complaining. "I have to listen to the Colonel's long and sarcastic remarks again." He made a face, crossing his arms and imitated the mentioned Colonel, and gesticulating. "So the Philosopher's stone in Lior was a fake as well? How long are you going to continue using military funds on this wild goose chase?"
Al laughed nervously as Edward rambled on how the Colonel always mocked him for his height. Without his older sibling noticed, he casually moved away to pick up a poor stray kitten. It looked cold and starved.
"Al?" Edward called, looking around for him. "Al!"
Al turned, blushing, even though an old suit of armour couldn't literally blush. "Sorry, sorry," he said fast, running back while holding himself in front of his metal stomach.
"What are you doing?" his brother asked.
Al tried to shrug it off, pretending not to hear the faint meowing from his armoured chest plate.
The last thing he saw was his brother's sceptical golden eyes looking up at him.
The light of a torch flickered to his left and Al woke abruptly, eyes wide, startled by the momentary change of scenery. He wasn't wet from the rain. So it had been a dream. But as real as a memory. His breath hitched.
Did he remember something?
Confused, Al shifted uncomfortably in his position where he sat against a hard wall, but it didn't make him feel better. The only thought that could lift his mind was that his memories might have started to return. It had to be it. His memories had been hidden inside his Gate after all. Had he been able to receive them before he returned back to this world? He didn't know. But he guessed he would find out sooner or later.
As for now, he had other problems. Al focused up on a shadow looming in front of him, recognizing him as Schiller. Immediately troubled, he tugged at his arms, but they were handcuffed behind his back again.
Schiller was standing still, staring motionlessly down at him. This startled Al even more, and he tried to clear his head of everything to find a fitting line. But he couldn't think of anything. The new memory of his brother was still fresh in his mind, and he couldn't do else than treasure it.
Getting his mind back to concentrate on the present, he judged from the look in Schiller's eyes that it seemed like he might be in trouble. Had he managed to contact someone? Had the military gotten time to track down the call?
At least annoying Thule was like a small victory.
"Is he awake?" a metallic voice asked, and Al jumped.
Schiller picked up a walkie-talkie and replied. "Yes."
"I'm going to have a little chat with him," the walkie-talkie said.
Al visibly swallowed and started trashing in his restraints.
Schiller nailed him with a severe stare. "Chairman Eckart seems to be unhappy with you, kiddo."
Breathing hard and falling back against the wall, Al managed a small smile. "I suppose I did something she didn't like."
Schiller bent down in front of him, catching his cheek and held his head directed towards him. "Did you kill them on purpose?"
Al's eyes hardened. "I didn't kill them."
He didn't. His heart and brain swam with emotions and tried to rationally sort them out. Controlling the Gate had been out of his hands, and they had made him do the transmutation in the first place. The Gate had chosen its victims and he had tried to stop it. Maybe he even had succeeded if Dietlinde Eckart hadn't knocked him off.
Schiller watched his eyes carefully, and then released his cheek. "Okay, kiddo. So what did you do?"
Without a change of expression, Al said honestly: "I called the military."
Schiller blinked. It was the first time Al had seen him confused. "How?"
"With a phone," Al replied, challenging the German's expanse of intellect.
Schiller's eyes narrowed, visibly getting frustrated. "You shouldn't start playing now, kiddo. You're lucky to be alive."
Al didn't reply, as the sounds of clanking footsteps could be heard down the hall. His teeth gritted together, and his stare at Schiller grew desperate. "Let me go," he said. "I can't stay here."
Schiller stood up without a reply. Then he turned for the unlocked cellar door where Eckhart's tall appearance came into view.
"Well, well," she said. "Alchemy is a fascinating thing, isn't it?" She stepped closer, passing by Schiller, and curved over Al with her hands resting on her knees. "You've been a very bad boy, Alphonse."
Al didn't meet her eyes, just tugged restlessly at his restraints, making the handcuffs clink against the iron hook. His wrists were bleeding of soreness. He could feel a warm, thin stream of liquid running over his bare hands. Of course they had removed his gloves again before he woke up.
"What are we going to do about that now?" she asked rhetorically. She straightened herself abruptly and turned to Schiller. "You are responsible for him and therefore you will have him punished in a way that he will remember how to behave himself in the future."
Schiller nodded. "I understand, Chairman Eckart."
"Now, have him bend over," she said.
--
Al was shaking in his discomfort on the floor, stripped off his red coat, jacket and boots. They were lying in the corner of the cell in a small pile. His eyes were wide and fear written all over them, shifting uncomfortably on his knees which were digging into the stone floor by his own weight. His head was lying on the side, making his face in contact with the cold floor as well. His arms were securely handcuffed in front of him, but still it was extremely hard to keep his balance in his position. The only way was to move his knees a little further apart.
"You will learn how to behave now, Alphonse," Dietlinde Eckart said, standing over him.
Al couldn't see her, his face being on the ground. All he could see was the bars of his cell some feet away. The door was open. And there was no way he could reach it.
"Too bad I never got the chance to perform something similar on your brother. He would have deserved it too."
"What... are you going to do?" Al asked shakily.
Eckhart leered. "You'll feel it soon. So, how many strikes will it take to teach him, Schiller?"
Al heard Schiller snort. "16 might do."
"16? That's rather nice of you, Schiller," Eckart replied conversationally. "But all right, if he can hold this stance through every one of them. But if not, he will get some more, understood?" Without waiting for a reply from the man, she said. "Let's start."
Al shifted uncomfortably again, anxiously tugging his cuffed hands. "Please, don't. I won't try anything again, I promise," he said bleakly.
Eckart ignored him. "Strip him now, if you please."
Schiller worked effectively, tipping Al over his thighs and holding him over his lap while he unbuckled his belt. Al started kicking and screaming. He had been undressed in front of Schiller before when he had been allowed to use a shower, but that had been different. Schiller had never done anything like threatening to hurt him.
"Stop! Let go of me!" Al wailed, twisting and writhing to get away. But Schiller had already opened his fly and started tugging down his black pants while he had him lying on his stomach over his thighs.
"Keep it still, kiddo," Schiller said with his toneless voice. Soon he had Al stripped off his pants and it ended up in the same pile as the rest of his belongings.
Al was close to panicking as he motioned further to remove his tank top as well. "Please, don't! I don't want this!" he protested helplessly.
Eckart wandered around, watching him closely. "These circumstances are your own fault, Alphonse," she said calmly. "You have to face the consequences."
Al shook his head violently. "Let me go!"
By then Schiller managed to remove his tank top from his squirming body and put Al heavily down on the cold floor, pressing his head down. Al's knees got a painful contact with the stone floor again, and he clenched his thighs together by instinct. Would they remove his shorts too? Teeth gritted and tight clamping of his lips managed to prevent an agonized whimper from escaping between them by the rough stone against his skin. Al beat it down with a thick swallow.
Schiller stood up over him, and Al visibly shivered. He was only wearing his shorts and had never felt so extremely exposed and vulnerable before. At least they didn't seem to intend to strip him naked. Still Al felt humiliated enough already.
"He looks ready," Eckart said. "Go on, Schiller."
Schiller nodded, and in the shadow of the flickering torch on the wall, Al could spot that he received a long-shaped instrument from the woman.
His mouth moved in an apprehensive motion of terror, but no sound could be heard. He shut his eyes as tight as he could and his muscles tightened up right before the first strike came down.
SMACK!
Feeling a sharp hot sting, he jerked forward and clamped his lips together. Expressive hazel eyes were twitching and widening as if to pop out of their sockets.
Don't scream, he told himself. You can take this. Nii-san would've been able to take it, he just knew it. So he could too.
But an unbearable, burning pain was swiftly attacking every nerve in his body. As he managed to contain his eyes from watering, he found himself unable to stop his knees from buckling on their own accords, almost tilting him off balance. Squeezing his thighs together and keeping his balance at the same time was not as easy as he had hoped.
Strike number two came soon after, quickly followed by a third. His muscles twitched as each blow landed. In their rouse followed a maddening itch that he couldn't rub out.
Al tried to keep his voice in check, but he couldn't. At first it was small breathy and choked hisses, but as the painful treatment continued on he couldn't prevent his voice from emerging.
SMACK!
A high-pitched scream was alarming from the deep cellar. Al abruptly stopped his breath in his throat, cutting off his own voice as soon as he realized the dreadful scream was coming from himself. Screaming is pointless, he thought bitterly. Who would hear him that cared? The burning, stinging, itching did never have time to die down before the cycle repeated, allowing the pain to pulse severely at his sensitized skin.
And after that, Al couldn't prevent another scream from escalating from his lungs. The humiliation, the hurt hunted down every corner and nook of his nerve system, and if he had gotten a glimpse of his own back, he would've seen the long and red marks appearing crisscrossed on the tender skin.
Another two blows followed quickly after one another, giving birth to an agonized scream which echoed through the dark stone hall.
"Maybe we should take a small break, so he can devour the pain," Eckart commented cruelly.
How many had it been already? Alphonse thought absent-mindedly. It felt like they had been torturing him for hours. His breath ran fast. He tried to concentrate on breathing. But the shame and pain kept stepping his pride far down into the dirt. He didn't know how much more he could take.
"Stop," he whispered, breathing hard. "Please stop."
"Continue," Eckart said.
SMACK!
Al howled, eyes watering and a tight lump grew bigger and bigger in his chest, threatening to suffocate him if he didn't let it out. Soon he couldn't bare hold back the series of quiet sobs any longer. His shoulders were trembling and knees shaking.
"Go lower," Eckart ordered Schiller.
Schiller obeyed without a word. The next blow hit lower than the others, striking right across the backside Al's thighs. At that time Al's voice had gone beyond capability to scream, and he just cried, collapsing on the hard floor. Balance didn't matter anymore. He couldn't hold the position any longer.
"Having enough already?" Eckart asked, leering. "We've got plenty left. And since you abandoned your stance, we'll have to add some more to it."
Al lay on his side, his chest rising and falling abruptly in rhythm with his panting breath. His back was burning. Ignoring his own tearstained eyes, he somehow managed scowling with hard eyes up at Eckart. "So…" he rasped out, having nothing to lose by trying to speak. "They figured... it out, just by that call? They know... where you are."
Dietlinde Eckart frowned down at him, surprised by the sudden words.
Al sighed and rested his head back on the floor while he still had the chance. "They'll come here soon," he continued. Maybe it really was a small chance for him to get rescued. They could have tracked down the call. Put two and two together. It was a faint hope, but it was hope.
If the situation he had caused wasn't critical, Eckart wouldn't have bothered punishing him this hard, right?
Eckart's eyes narrowed sharply. "Continue Schiller. Right where we left."
Al's eyes flickered towards Schiller, getting a glimpse of his punishment tool. It looked like a thin leather paddle. Al twisted and snarled as Schiller simply picked him up and forced him back into position.
Another sharp pain from his lower back. It hurt so badly he wanted to smash his own head down in the stone-ground and hope he passed out.
SMACK! At the same spot.
"Hold a little between the blows," Eckart ordered callously.
SMACK! Pause. SMACK!
At this point, breaking through skin wasn't hard, as the sensitive skin had gotten stroked hard several times at the same spot. Thin streams of crimson ran down Al's sides.
Al didn't even know that he was screaming anymore. His mind tried desperately to hide in a place deep down in his own brain, frantically trying to avoid feeling any more pain. Schiller didn't even bother pulling him up into his position again for each time he fell squirming over. He just pushed him over on his stomach on the floor with the tip of his boot, thinking that would do.
Another struck.
"NII-SAN!" Al screamed, curling up on the floor and held his cuffed wrists tightly over his head, hiding his face. "NII-SAN!"
"He won't come to help you."
He could barely catch what Eckart had said between his heavy breathing.
"No one will."
He shook his head violently again. "He will. He will…" Tears were streaming down his face, lacing his throat together. "He will come," he whispered. "He is out looking for me." He didn't even know what he was saying anymore. Nothing made any sense. Why weren't the military here yet? Hadn't he called? Where was Edward? Al wondered what he was doing.
Eckart laughed. "Then he's looking in the wrong world, because he isn't here. Continue Schiller."
Al shook his head hard and held his breath and clutched his eyes shut, as he could prepare himself for the next blow.
Which didn't come.
"I've hit him 16 times. It should be enough, Chairman Eckart," Schiller said calmly.
Al lifted his head slowly, watching the man. He had his eyes on Eckart, not seeming to acknowledge that he was actually there, beaten to blood.
Dietlinde Eckart's eyes narrowed. "As I said, only if he could hold his stance, which he didn't. He will be done when I say so."
"I am done," Schiller said. "It's enough." He threw the paddle in front of her feet.
Dietlinde Eckart looked angrily at him as he turned around and motioned to walk out of the cell.
"You coward," she muttered. By that Schiller almost haltered. "I'll do it myself, then." She picked up the paddle.
Al's eyes widened and a small gasp escaped his lips, before he received four extremely hard blows across his arms, back and legs. He screamed until he blacked out.
--
The next thing he saw before his eyes was his brother's back, pierced by Envy's transmuted arm. Edward's eyes were wide, his body paralyzed from forming another word. His head twisted slowly towards Al, meeting his eyes, and it felt like he could feel his older brother's pain.
"Nii-san," Al whispered, helplessly watching while lying in the transmutation circle.
Edward lay on his back on the floor, a huge pit of crimson growing underneath his motionless body. And then he heard Roze's high pitched cry, echoing in the room and Dante in the body of Lyra stopping her from going near the body.
"Humans are really pathetic," Envy scoffed.
No… Nii-san can't die, Al told himself. That's impossible… As he was about to be consumed by the homunculus called Gluttony, when managed to act and he transmuted himself free, standing up.
"Do you realize what you are doing?" Dante said annoyingly. "I told you not to use alchemy!" She motioned towards him.
"Stand back!" Al warned, his voice firm. "Don't touch me." And she stopped. Of all, he was a seven foot tall suit of armour and the Philosopher's Stone itself. Slowly, he approached his older sibling, lying lifelessly on the floor.
"What are you going to do?" Dante demanded.
Al stopped by Edward's body. "Nii-san isn't dead yet." He bent down, gently touching his brother's face with his big palm. "He is still warm," he whispered. "His soul is still inside the Gate. I just have to get it back."
His decision was set. Even if he had to disappear, he would do it for his brother. He himself should have died a long time ago. His life was based on hundreds of sacrifices, all the soldiers that had died in the creation of the stone.
And just as Envy acted, jumping forward to stop him, Al clapped resolutely, and a bright light bleached up the entire room.
Then, nothing.
--
Al opened his eyes slowly, gasping short from his memory. It was the last memory of his brother. It was after that they had been parted.
He tried to move. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't. Shooting shivers of pain emerged within his entire body, making him stiffen and the image in front of his eyes falling out of focus again. He groaned softly, lifting a hurting arm to his forehead. Then he scowled puzzled. His arms were free from the handcuffs.
Something – or someone – shifted beside him, and he twisted his head slowly to have a look. Schiller.
Al just stared up at him, noticing that he was lying on his stomach on something softer than hard stone floor, and a wet cloth was wandering across his back. He absent-mindedly welcomed the feeling of lying on something soft.
His body stirred, eyes shutting tight as the cloth draped over his wounds and he suppressed a low whimper.
"Lie still," Schiller said quietly.
"First… you're beating me almost to death," Al startled, his breathing coming harder than he could control. "Then you treat my wounds."
"Are you complaining?"
Al didn't reply to that. He might say something he would regret. He just lay still for a while, trying to regulate his breathing. He noticed that he was in a room, or a cell, he hadn't seen before. It had a small bed with the thin mattress he was lying on.
Then he suddenly remembered that they hadn't been alone earlier.
"Where is… Eckart?"
"She went after you passed out," the German replied.
"And you didn't?"
Schiller sighed. "If you think of me as a sadist, then it's up to you. But I wouldn't leave a wounded behind."
Al rested his head in his arms. "Thank you."
Schiller shrugged. "You are still a prisoner, so was your brother."
Al's head jerked towards him. "My brother was…?"
"Back in Munich, we kidnapped your brother and held him in a cell similar to this one," Schiller said, not any traces of regret in his voice.
There were never any feelings there at all, not matter what he said. Al stared at him with big eyes. "Why?" he whispered. "Why did you—?"
"How do you think we managed to come to this world?" Schiller asked.
Al's thoughts spun fast, and he didn't have to think for long to figure it out. "You wanted him to make a Gate for you," he said in a low voice. "But… I thought alchemy didn't exist in the other world."
"Not in the same way," Schiller replied. "But thanks to him, we managed to come here."
"He would never have done such thing," Al said. "He wouldn't have helped an organization like Thule."
"We made him by holding his friend as well," Schiller simply said.
Al frowned, almost not believing how dirty and low this Thule Society worked to get what they wanted. His teeth were clapping, trying to form his words. "Then why… why didn't he come with you? Why did he stay there?"
Schiller's eyes narrowed, cleaning the cloth in a bowl of water. He had Al's blood on his hands. "I guess he wanted to stay with his friend."
Al wondered who Edward's friend was. At least his brother had someone he cared about in the other world. He wasn't alone like he was... That was at least good. Wasn't it?
Al's eyes faltered, looking down on the stone floor below. No matter how much he wanted to feel glad, he couldn't.
What if Edward liked the other world better? What if he didn't want to come back? In the white space he had said, "Come with me," he hadn't said "No, I'll stay with you."
Had Al gotten everything wrong?
He thought of all the images he had seen inside the Gate. It was difficult to part between all of them, but he knew somehow that a lot of it wasn't part of his memory. Had he seen parts of the other world? What kind of world was it anyway?
Al's eyes darkened. If Edward didn't want to come back, he at least would do what he could to go to him. It didn't matter to Al which world he was in, as long as Edward was in it too. That was all Al wanted.
He hoped Edward wanted to see him too.
Al sniffled.
"A solider crying?" Schiller asked conversationally.
"I'm not," Al muttered. "Why don't you just let me go? I don't belong to you. I don't belong to the military either. But they'll come here and look for me."
"Sure, they'll come here, kiddo," Schiller said, drying his back gently with a towel. "But I doubt they would pay a dog like you any mind."
Al glared at him, but felt a dismaying lurch in his stomach by the thought.
"By now they've just replaced you with someone else," Schiller continued. "That's how the adult world works."
Al was about to protest, but his throat failed, and he remained silent. No one had bothered looking for his brother. Not even the military. And wasn't he somehow Edward's replacement?
Al felt suddenly sick.
But Colonel Roy Mustang… he was different from the others, right? He cared a lot about Edward, didn't he?
Somehow Al had figured out that Edward and the Colonel's relationship had been something more than just a subordinate to a commanding officer. Whenever the Colonel had looked at him, Al could read in his eye that he missed Edward badly. Just like he did.
Schiller stood up and fetched the pile of Al's clothes, dropping them beside him on the bed. "Dress."
Al crawled slowly up on his palms and knees, wincing a little from the burning pain. He picked up his pants, starting to dress himself carefully and pretended not to feel uncomfortable while being watched as he did so. Standing on his feet again, he felt much better as soon as he had gotten into his clothes again. Even though the pain still hurt badly, he could endure it.
His brother had been through a lot worse.
Schiller crossed his arms, leaning to a wall. "For how long have your brother been gone?" he asked.
"Two years and one week," Al whispered.
"About 4 years ago, the real world was in a war," Schiller said. "They called it the Great War."
Al carefully shrugged on his jacket and picked up his coat. He wrapped it around himself, trying to get back some warmth and sat down on the bedside.
"I had a brother as well. He was a pacifist," Schiller continued, and Al looked at him. "But he was stationed in the Republic of German Austria to do desk work. One night when he was on his way home from the office he was shot by someone of our own side. The man who shot him was Austrian, driven mad by what he had seen out on the field. He was hallucinating and thought my brother was a British enemy. At that time I was stationed home in Germany. It took a couple of days before the news reached to me."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Al said silently. "I think… If my brother had been killed on the field like that, I would probably have left the army."
Schiller's eyes flared. "I stayed. My rank helped me bring justice."
Al's eyes hardened into a scowl. "Are you in the army for vengeance?"
"You're just a kid, you wouldn't understand."
"I might not understand how the adult world works, as you call it," Al said. "But revenge doesn't make you any better than the killer…"
In a second, Schiller stepped up to him, closing his fingers around Al's throat.
Al made a strangled cry and struggled, ignoring the pain shooting up his spine. He had totally forgotten about his comportment. Maybe he had already forgotten that Schiller wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he had to. That it was him who had sedated him and dragged him into imprisonment in the first place...
Schiller made a move, dragged Al to his feet, and Al's back hit the wall hard, still with the hand clenching around his throat.
"When I had killed him and gotten my revenge shortly after the incident, I made it look like he had committed suicide. No one ever suspected me. Therefore, I stayed in the army," Schiller said in a low voice. "Just for the excitement." He leaned closer, almost touching Al's ear with his lips. "Or maybe I stayed to punish myself. Because I knew I would end up like either one of them: Either mad by what I've seen, or killed by a bullet."
Al shifted in discomfort, gripping around Schiller's wrist with both hands.
"Nothing could ever impress me or make me feel anything," Schiller whispered, his breath ghosting Al's ear and made him shiver. "Not until I saw what your brother and you could do."
Al's mouth moved, trying desperately to form words. "My brother once said... Revenge doesn't give you anything back... you just have to continue living..."
Schiller loosened his grip slowly. "Your brother is wise," he said. "But he would've felt the same way I did if something similar happened to you."
Al trembled as the man let go of him, and lent his back against the wall. He didn't even know how he knew his brother had said something like that. He just remembered.
"Enough talk," Schiller said. "Follow me."
Al was surprised as Schiller turned his back to him and moved to walk out of the cell.
"Where are we going?" Al asked, following slowly.
"Back to your cell."
Obediently, Al had to let himself be shackled to the wall again. Then Schiller left him once again without another word.
Nii-san… Al thought darkly. Maybe you stayed in the other world because you have reasons to. I understand that. But I have no reasons to stay here…
Hopefully Granny and Winry would've understood if he had had any chance to explain. That moment, Al decided that he had to do everything he possibly could to get to Munich. Nothing else mattered anymore.