Chapter 15: The end of Reason
--
Edward reached a hand towards Alfons. "It's the only hope I have left."
Staring indisputably at him, Alfons nodded. "Okay. Then, we'll go after Schiller." He took Edward's left hand, letting him help him to stand back up to his feet.
He had been wrong. As long as Edward had something to hold on to, he wouldn't give up on his brother. No matter what, it was worth trying out. "Anyway, let's get your arm back first," Alfons added.
They would need it.
Fortunately, getting Edward's arm back wasn't very hard. They found it still tied up to the chair. Alfons picked it up and dreaded already to see Edward's pained face when it was connected again. He had had enough of that. But Edward seemed only happy.
"Finally... Having only one arm has its complications sometimes," he said lightly.
If that wasn't an understatement, Alfons didn't know what it was. He arranged the arm against Edward's port and gazed at him for a clear signal.
Edward only braced himself with a deep breath and gave him a resolute look. Alfons pushed, and the arm connected in place.
"Ngh," Edward breathed, digging his face into his shoulder.
Alfons wrapped his arms around him, stroking him soothingly over his back. "It'll be all right," he whispered.
Edward smiled weakly into his neck. "I'm okay. How about you? Are you hurt anywhere?"
Alfons shook his head. "I'm fine. I can still use my legs."
Edward snorted through a smirk and carefully tested his arm, twisting it and moving his fingers. It seemed to work all right.
Then they were running. For now they didn't meet any enemies in the dim surroundings, but they didn't have a single moment to lose. People could start getting back already. Both Thule and the military, and Alfons figured they didn't want to be found by neither of them.
As they reached the huge room with the Gate still open on the floor, Alfons' breath had already started to get short. He breathed sharply, feeling the sting in his side from his injury. He noticed the barrier covering the Gate. Ah, so that was what happened to Envy.
Edward stopped by Ackman, frowning against the unconscious body that lied next to the Gate. "I forgot about something." He stepped up to him and started searching his pockets. "I know that slimy bastard has it." Then he found what he was looking for, and Alfons noticed the silver pocket watch he clutched tightly in his hand.
"This is Als," Edward whispered, eyes hardening. "To think that Al became a state alchemist... Only I was supposed to go that low." He stuffed it quickly into his pocket and stood up. He was about to turn and go, but then he changed his mind and picked up Ackman's gun from the floor beside him. Determinedly he walked back to Alfons and handed it to him with the handle first. "Use it if you have to."
Alfons felt his shoulders start trembling just by the sight of it. "I've never touched a gun before..."
"You know how it feels like, so take it," Edward said, more harshly than he meant.
"How can knowing how it feels like to get shot make me want to shoot somebody?" Alfons protested.
"Because you don't want them to shoot you first," Edward countered. Then he added, a little softer. "For protection."
Alfons nodded, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. "Okay." He took the gun in his hand. "Uhm... do I have to know how to use it?"
Edward snorted through another smirk. He showed him fast how to secure, unsecure and to take it apart and together. Alfons wondered how Edward had learned all this.
Edward clapped, transmuting his metal arm to the fearsome and sharp blade. "Ready?"
"Yes," Alfons said in a low voice.
Edward turned and reached the door he had seen Schiller disappear through. It was locked. He clapped his hands hard and touched the door. He made the metal and stone crumple like paper, splitting it to a hole. They hurried through.
This was it. They would soon know if Alphonse was in this world or not. The reason they were here for. Alfons couldn't help feel nervous and scared.
The stair seemed endless. Edward picked a torch from the wall, leading the way down. The fire flickered against the walls of stone, chasing the immediate darkness away from them.
Alfons watched Edward's back. His ponytail waved to and fro as he walked, and his body seemed tense, but ready to charge. His automail arm was never off guard.
This moment was the one they had come here for. This moment was their reason to attend the military when they came to this world in the first place. Ever since Edward had gotten the news from Roy Mustang that his little brother was missing.
This moment.
With a slight swaying feeling in his empty stomach, Alfons was very sure that they would find out if they would succeed this mission soon or not. He'd rather not think about what would happen if they didn't find what they were looking for. Or how Edward would take it.
Abruptly Edward stopped, frozen.
"What is it?" Alfons blurted in a whisper.
"Shh!" Edward said fast.
Alfons shut himself up and just listened. There was no mistaking it. Swallowing hard, he recognized the sound of footsteps. They were slow and calm, the sound of the thick heal looming in the dark. One step at the time, up the stairs. Even though Schiller was only one man, it could still be a challenge. Or what if he had allies down here as well?
The steps came closer, a tall and dark figure started to appear while leisurely approaching them.
"Schiller," Edward spoke in a low voice. "It's over."
Schiller's face reached the extent of the light from Edward's torch. He stopped, crossing his arms. "So, you're here."
"Of course we are," Edward bit him off, holding his blade ready in front of him. "Where are you hiding my brother?"
Schiller didn't reply to his question. "You're right. It is over."
"Where is Al?" Edward repeated. When the German didn't reply again, he barked: "Answer me!"
Schiller smiled an extensive smile, eyes wide. "He's mine. I can't let you have him."
"Don't screw with me!" Edward shouted. "Get out of my way, or else I swear I won't hesitate to kill you!" He held his arm out in front of him, ready to charge.
"Alphonse," Schiller said. "He is a good kid. He's mine. He doesn't mind. I take care of him."
Edward gnarled. "If you have touched a single hair on his head..."
"Edward," Alfons said in a low voice behind him, eyeing Schiller carefully. "He's... He's totally lost it."
Schiller didn't look too good. His eyes were ruddy and wide, his face was twisted into a grimace that was supposed to be a grin. Still he was fast as a snake, picking up a gun from his back pocket and pointed towards Edward, who stiffened.
Immediately, like someone had pushed a button inside his brain he didn't even know existed, Alfons had echoed Schiller's move, almost at the same time. Lifting his gun, pointing straight at the German. "Drop it and stay back!" he ordered fast. Even Edward got startled from his firm tone.
Damn it... rather use it than get Edward shot, he thought.
Schiller stared interested at him. "You look a little young to be handling a weapon like that, kiddo," he said, followed by a short and quiet laugh.
Alfons scowled.
"Have you even fired a gun before?" Schiller asked solemnly.
Alfons quickly lowered his gun and tightened his finger around the trigger. Firing a gun was harder than he had thought. He almost flinched back by the pressure of the force inside the small thing of cold steel, his arms shuddered as the bullet was released. And on top of that, all of it happened in just a tiny millisecond. The bullet hit a few inches away from Schiller's feet, the loud sound making all three of them jump.
Alfons lifted the gun towards Schiller again. "Now I have... Stay away from us."
Schiller's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I can't do that." Without any further warning, the German abruptly fired his gun, pointing straight towards Edward. The bullet hit Edward's metal arm and replicated away, and Edward shot back quickly back in shock, right into Alfons – pressing him back into the wall to the side. Luckily Edward had held his arm up on guard all the time. The bullet hadn't hurt anyone. But that was just one bullet. If Schiller decided to fire more of them...
Alfons didn't let go of the weapon he had, clutching it with both hands and trying to control his own trembling. He still kept it directed at the German, and he should shoot already, before Schiller hit anywhere else... But he hesitated.
Edward held his breath, frozen.
"Go away!" Schiller shouted.
Edward's eyes narrowed. "No," he said silently. "I want my little brother back. You can't keep him from me."
Schiller lifted his gun again, ready to fire another bullet. "Then you'll die here. I will never give him away." He tightened a finger around the trigger. Edward moved in front of Alfons again just as a gunshot fired.
Alfons felt his own tremulous, all the way from his shoulders to his hands; his mind had gone into some kind of light shock. For some seconds he didn't know who had managed to fire first, but he guessed it was him, because Schiller dropped his gun and fell backwards into the wall, clutching tightly around his shoulder. Both of Alfons' hands had still a tight hold around the handle, his arms resting on Edward's shoulder so he wouldn't accidentally shoot him too.
Edward stared solidly at Schiller, who gritted his teeth in pain. Alfons wanted to turn his gaze away, but he couldn't. He had shot him.
"Damn it," Schiller muttered. "I thought you said... you wanted to bring us all to Germany." He sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall.
Alfons' eyes widened. "I did... But you went against us."
Schiller shook his head. "We... could have left... together."
Violently shaking his head, Alfons clutched his eyes tightly and tried to hold back the lump growing in his throat. Was that really true? Had Schiller really wanted to help him after all? How could he have known that?
He had shot a person. Still knowing how the person would suffer from it, and in all probability die.
Edward relaxed slowly in front of him and laid an automail hand gently on Alfons' arm, which still rested trembling on his shoulder while holding the gun. "He's lying. You did the right thing, Alfons," he said, golden eyes narrowing at Schiller. "He was trying to kill us. He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore."
They heard a loud thundering sound from somewhere far away.
"Bombs," Schiller muttered. "They're bombing... They're coming."
Edward and Alfons exchanged quick looks. The military was here. Or Thule. Who knows?
"Come on," Edward said, kicking the gun away from Schiller and continued down the dark, endless stairs.
"Are we just going to leave him?" Alfons asked perturbed.
Edward nodded. "Either Thule will find him or the military. I don't really care. We have to hurry."
Alfons turned and looked back at Schiller over his shoulder. He didn't do anything to stop them from continuing on.
The wounded man closed his eyes, listening to the echoing steps of the two boys disappearing down the rest of the stairs.
"Schiller-san... Would you take me to Munich?"
Schiller nodded with a small smile. "Sooner or later we're leaving this world," he told the boy. "Then I'll take you with me."
The boy had looked happy. "Thank you..."
"You're welcome," Schiller whispered.
--
He sat huddled, blindfolded and chained on the floor, his knees pressed to his chest, his small hands fisted so hard that his nails were digging into his own palms. He needed to take the focus away from the other pain, and inflicting some more pain elsewhere was the only way he could think of as an efficient way. His head was heavy. Schiller had drugged him again. He was still aware enough of that. He had just come in, acted like nothing was wrong and given him a shot, and then he had hurriedly left. Al knew the real effect of the drug hadn't come down on him yet. He would feel it soon. Now he just felt small, even more than he usually was.
When they were younger everyone had predicted him to become taller than Edward. Edward had hated it whenever people said it, but they had just laughed at him of course. They had fought about who was the tallest even. Al knew that Edward was taller than him now. He was the small one. Why did that have any significance to him right now? He didn't know exactly. A couple of days ago he had screamed that Edward would come for him and save him. He barely remembered it. It felt like a dream, but he knew he had said it out loud.
Every single thing that had happened to him the last weeks felt like a dream. A bad dream. He wasn't even entirely sure how long he had spent down here. It could be months for all he knew.
"Nii-san, if you never drink your milk you won't be taller than me," he said, teasing his older brother.
"Milk hasn't anything to do with that!" Edward argued loudly. "Don't drink it Al, don't you know where that stuff comes from?" Then Edward would make a grimace and escape from the table, still chewing his last big bite of food.
The thought of his brother caused a hurdle of different emotions to bloat inside of him, like his emotions were challenging each other. His heart was beating patchily through his chest where it was pressed against his knees, and it was the only comfort he had in his own little darkness.
He could just sit there, trying to convince himself that his brother was the centre of his mind and soul, the one he was living to find and his reason for everything. It was. But it wasn't the only thing that mattered. Though it terrified him to admit it, it was whether or not a certain man would be walking through those bars again that suddenly held his engrossed attention.
He…wanted to see him. Even needed it. The man had promised him. He would bring him to Germany. This foreign country in another world. And he wanted an honest answer from his captor of why he would risk everything for Al. He had promised that he would take Al with him, no matter what Dietlinde Eckart would say to it. And he would even stand up for him again.
Al felt the urge to know, because like his brother he also had his pride. He wasn't going to let one of the enemies save him and not understand the reason behind it. At the same time he was feeling shameful of it. Although, even more ashamed as it might make him, he didn't look upon Schiller as his enemy.
There was a tiny voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he wasn't supposed to feel this way. He was supposed to hate the man. The small voice still reminded him of that it was Schiller who had captured him and was keeping him down here in this position. That voice pleaded with him to realize that whether or not Schiller had saved his life the man was still a part of the terrorists who had killed so many innocent people, and for that reason he did not deserve Al's concern.
But Al was no longer listening to that voice. It grew weaker and weaker in its conviction to the point where Al could only hear it enough to be ashamed for his actions, but not swayed to act otherwise. As long as Schiller would keep his promise and get him out of this place eventually, he would still have a chance to reach his true goal. But one thing did plague his mind as well. Why had Schiller come and drugged him and blindfolded him all of a sudden anyway?
"Nii-san..." Al whispered, feeling the drug starting to envelope his body and mind, making him sweat and dizzy.
--
Alfons was still not sure if Schiller had been telling the truth or not, but he couldn't do anything about it now. He hoped God would somehow forgive him, if such thing even existed. For now he had to focus on the present.
If the military had started to infiltrate this place, it wouldn't take long before they would head down after them. What if they were running right into a dead end?
"Edward," Alfons said while they ran, continuing further down the stairs. "Do you know where this will lead us?"
"I'm not sure," Edward replied. "But his words have confirmed it. Al has to be down here somewhere."
Alfons really hoped that was true. He didn't know if he could stand the look in Edward's eyes if they were to find out that Al really had disappeared into the Gate. And he wondered if any of them would be able to live with that... And many things could still be terminal in this situation.
What condition would Al be in if he was down here, and what if they were caught again before they could find a way out?
He hurriedly pushed those thoughts away. It didn't matter right now. There wasn't any time to think about everything that could go wrong.
Finally they reached the end of the stairs, and Edward stopped abruptly, scanning the new reaching. Alfons stopped too, gazing down a long and dark hallway with doors with bars on either side. The hall was already lit up with torches on the walls on either side as well. But it was still cold and dark down here.
"Cells," Alfons whispered.
"We'll search them all." Edward's voice was so low that the echo only managed a whisper in the darkness.
Alfons nodded.
Edward went to the first door to the left, Alfons went to the right. Edward tried the handle, and to his surprise it opened up. He gazed in, holding up the torch to light up the cold room. It was empty. "Not here," he muttered.
Alfons opened a different door, feeling a huge lump of excitement and fear as he searched the dark room with his eyes. Empty. "Not here either," he said.
They went to the next two cellar doors. They were vacant too.
"This place reminds me of Thule's dungeon in Munich," Alfons said with a shudder.
"Yeah..." Edward hurriedly opened the next heavy door. No signs of people.
They heard another thundering sound, the ceiling shaking high above them making them freeze to the ground.
"Who bombs who?" Alfons asked apprehensively.
"I'd rather not think of it," Edward muttered. "But I don't think Thule would destroy this place just like that. They need the Gate to get back."
"You're right," Alfons said. "But didn't the Colonel say that he wouldn't let them attack this place before he knew Al was safe?"
Edward nodded. "Yeah... Change in plans perhaps."
Alfons didn't like that. If they couldn't count on the Colonel, they couldn't count on anyone but themselves. Still, perhaps the Colonel didn't have much to say in important decisions like that. He opened up another door and frowned, his thoughts abruptly neglecting his mind. "Edward."
Edward turned quickly and peeked in beside his shoulder. His heart beat faster. A torch was lit inside. He stepped past Alfons and narrowed his eyes. There was a sink and a shower, and water on the floor. He bent down and touched the cold water with his flesh hand.
"Someone has showered down here?" Alfons asked slowly.
"Yeah," Edward replied. "A prisoner." He stood up. "Come on." He turned fast, practically running to continue the search.
Alfons followed him, seeing Edward's back disappear inside another door to the right. Then he heard the sound. A low, metallic sound. Like iron scarping against iron. He stopped frozen, seeing the light of a torch flickering on the wall on the left side ahead. The torch itself wasn't visible, only the light coming from it. Which meant that the light was coming from another room.
"Edward," he whispered.
Edward came out of the room again, looking questioningly at him. "What?"
"I think I heard something," Alfons said, his voice a little shaky. "There." He pointed towards the light flickering on the wall, and Edward whirled around to follow his gaze. He skipped the next doors, heading straight for the one with light inside.
This cell was different from the others. It was smaller and the entire door consisted of long, thick iron bars.
Edward stopped – almost flinched, his heart beating so hard against his chest it almost hurt. Alfons stopped beside him, following his gaze and gasped.
Against the wall in the cell sat a small boy with bronze hair with his arms chained apart over his head. He was blindfolded, his head tilting forward, not reacting on the sound of their steps.
He wore black clothes and a red coat. His hair was bound in a ponytail just like his brother's, although his locks were slightly messed up.
Alphonse was smaller than Alfons had imagined him, and seemed even tinier behind the bars, chained to the dark. What a horrible way to hold him. Alfons couldn't imagine what Edward must be thinking right now, but he hadn't any doubt that he was feeling anger among the relief.
Edward shoulders were visibly trembling, and his chest moved heavily in tact with his breathing.
"Go," Alfons whispered softly.
Edward bit his teeth together and clapped. He touched the bars, which bended inwards and made an opening large enough to get through. He turned and gave him a quick sign. Keep watch.
Alfons nodded firmly, turning to the side with the gun ready.
Edward stepped fast towards his little brother, for the first time seeing him in the flesh since they tried to transmute their mother so many years ago. He felt an odd combination of feelings all at once, feelings which didn't even belong together.
Anger, happiness, sadness, curiosity, fright, hate and relief. Most of all relief. This was his brother. And he was alive. But the hatred to the people who had done this to him was strong in his chest, almost darkening his heart.
Approaching him gently, trying to make sure he wouldn't scare Al, he sat down slowly on his knees in front of him. Edward clapped his hands and touched the iron chains, making them clatter apart from each other and freed his little brother's wrists.
Alphonse's hands dropped down and his body seemed to fall forward any moment, before he jerked abruptly and pressed his body to the wall.
Edward hesitated. "Al..."
Al was unaware of who was suddenly there beside him. He figured it could be Schiller, but something – that voice – in the back of his mind told him otherwise. He felt his body swayed dangerously forwards, his upper body completely unable to keep himself up-right. Every muscle felt like wax inside him. He was caught around his chest as he fell forwards, feeling his head resting at someone's shoulder. His eyes narrowed while still being closed in darkness. Had he heard someone clap a little earlier? The sound of alchemy? It had sounded far away. A dream. Right... Al thought meekly.
Dream.
Not a memory.
Holding gently around Al's slender shoulders, Edward carefully removed the blindfold and let it drop to the floor.
"Nii-san," Alphonse whispered, and Edward almost froze, remission coming back to his heart and filled it with more of relief than hate. His little brother remembered him.
"Finally... a nice dream." Al turned his head slowly, bronze eyes gazed almost calmly up at him, watering and flowing over down his cheeks.
Edward smiled softly. His little brother was in his arms, he was talking and he knew that it was his big brother who had come for him. Edward was reassured. "Let's go... Al."
The pale light of the torch on the wall flickered over them, matching the golden hair and eyes of the older. Al clutched his eyes tightly together. This had to be a dream. His big brother had come for him. It was the best dream he could remember. Al grasped a hand at his brother's shirt and dug his nose into something that felt like real fabric on a real shoulder. It felt as real as a memory.
Edward stroked his back, giving him some time. He was supporting the most of Al's weight as the smaller one leaned on him where they sat on the floor. He was slightly startled by how light Al felt. "It's okay now," he said in a low comforting voice.
Al kept his eyes closed. The body against him felt warm. His voice sounded almost too real too. The stroking hurt at his sore back, but it was still a reassuring touch. It was virtually painful how real it all felt. Al let out a sob, rocking slowly back and forth in the hold.
Edward felt a slight sting of worry, closing his arms tighter around him. Al stilled, and Edward could feel the warmth of his breath brushing over his neck.
"Will you take me with you?" Al whispered. "Please... Anywhere. Munich..."
Edward frowned, wondering how Al knew about Munich. But it didn't really matter. "Of course," he replied soothingly. "That's why I'm here."
Al sighed softly. "I want to go there. To see you."
Edward felt even more startled. "It'll be okay, Al. I'll get you out of here." He pressed his nose into soft bronze hair, feeling the same human warmth of his little brother as at a time for over six years ago. He could hardly believe that it was true.
With a gentle push Edward encouraged his little brother to stand up. Al lifted his head, gazing right into his eyes, and by that Edward gasped shortly as he noticed something different. Al's pupils were huge behind the glassy expression. He looked like he had trouble with focusing. Drugs.
"Bastards..." Edward whispered and wrapped his arms around his brother again. "It's okay," he repeated. "I'll get you out of here."
The ground started shaking, and from somewhere above he could yet again hear the thundering sound of a detonating bomb.
"Edward!"
Edward turned with a distressed feeling towards Alfons, who was still standing outside the cell, nervously clutching the gun in both hands. The older received a look and got the message.
We should hurry...
Edward nodded and couldn't agree more. He turned back to Al, grabbing him gently around the biceps to help him stand. "Come on, Al." But his little brother's legs behaved like jelly, and his eyes were shut closed, his lips moving as he kept mumbling some incoherent things Edward didn't catch.
Assuming it was the only efficient way of getting him out of there, Edward hurriedly hoisted his little brother onto his back. He arranged his arms around his neck, and his own arms around the back of Al's knees. As he had felt a minute ago, Al wasn't actually heavy at all. He was small and skinny. Had they kept him here for more than two fucking weeks? Edward felt sick just by thinking about it, but now wasn't the time for that. Now that he had finally found him, the only priority was to get him the hell out safely. There wasn't time for anything else.
"Alfons," Edward said. "Lead."
"We can't go back up the stairs," Alfons said. "We'll run right into them that way."
Edward nodded. "Continue down the hall. There must be another way out of this hellhole." He tightened the grip around his brother's knees and felt Al's arms moved to tighten the hold around his neck while his head rested on his shoulder again.
Edward's lips formed into another small smile. Al did this because he knew he was being rescued. Al was counting on him. He wouldn't let anything stop him from saving him now. He just hoped he would be okay after this. He would rather not think about what Al might have gone through while being a prisoner. He had to get him out of there soon as hell.
He hurriedly moved out of the cell and started running beside Alfons down the dark hall.
Alfons held the torch in one hand and the gun in the other, twisting his head a little to catch a glimpse of the half-unconscious boy. "Is he all right?" he asked a little breathless.
"He's drugged, but at least he recognized me," Edward replied in a low voice. "But I swear, I'll kill those bastards if I get the chance."
"Let's just find a way out of here," Alfons breathed.
They kept running down the dark hallway. They had come to a point where it wasn't lit up any further with torches anymore. The only light they had was the torch in Alfons' hand.
"I'm glad no one else is down here," Alfons muttered.
They heard another thunder. Edward gazed up at the ceiling and stopped for a moment, breathing hard. Moist pearls of sweat were running down his forehead.
Alfons stopped too and turned back. "Edward?"
Edward rearranged his little brother a little higher on his back. The boy seemed completely unconscious now, his body lax and his arms hanging loosely over Edward's shoulders. Alfons understood that a limb body made it probably heavier to carry him. Especially while running for their lives.
"I'm fine, keep going," Edward said.
They continued. But then Alfons' eyes suddenly narrowed at the view up front. It was a light there. Finally, they were saved. A light had to mean they were coming to an opening. He felt utterly relieved.
"Edward, look," he breathed.
Edward gazed up as he ran. The light flickered up front. He slowed down and stopped, frowning. "It's not daylight," he said in a low voice.
Alfons stopped abruptly. In the same moment he saw a shadow from the light, a silhouette holding a torch.
His heart jumped up in his throat. It was a person.
Edward stopped beside him, watching closely towards the shadow. "Who's there?" he asked sternly.
The shadow and the light moved. The person seemed to move a little unsteadily.
Edward's eyes widened as he saw what the new torch light revealed behind the shadow; the hallway was split into two directions.
"Hello again," a voice said as the man came into view. He was wearing the black Thule uniform, and his shoulder was blooded. Schiller...
Edward immediately lowered his centre of gravity, ready to sprint, and Alfons did the same while hiding all fear from his face.
"How the hell did you get here?!" Edward bellowed.
Schiller pointed his gun at him. "I knew of a shortcut," he simply said.
Alfons cursed himself for not thinking of taking Schiller's gun as well. They hadn't expected him to be able to get up on his feet again.
Edward glared at him. "Let us pass," he said sternly.
Alfons swallowed. Edward didn't have his hands free as long as he was carrying his brother around. Since he was the one with his hands free and a gun, he was the only one able to fight him. It was time to be useful to Edward for once.
Alfons abruptly threw his torch hard away – right against the German, hoping to hide them away from range of shooting in the dark. The torch landed some distance away beside Schiller, who didn't move at all, and it all turned darker around them. Alfons could still see Schiller's location clearly since he had his own torch. Alfons lifted his gun. "You heard him," he said fast, keeping the gun as steady as he could with both hands. "Let us go."
Schiller just grinned, but didn't come any closer. He kept his eyes towards his voice, guessing his position and fully aware of his own disadvantage. "I wouldn't like you to fire at me again, Heiderich. It doesn't seem to be like your type of character."
"You don't know me," Alfons said in a low voice.
"I know him," Schiller said holding out his torch so he could nearly point out the shape of them, nodding at the boy Edward carried. "You two are bonded together. And there are obvious similarities between you."
"Wrong," Edward said, before Alfons could. "They're two completely different people."
Schiller smiled spitefully. "Aren't you being a little egoistic, Edward? You want both of them, even if it's against the rules, isn't it?"
Edward's eyes hardened dangerously.
"Kiddo wants to stay with me and come to Germany. It would be equal exchange, wouldn't it?"
Alfons shuddered.
"You're sick," Edward barked. "Let us pass now, or I'll-!"
"Where do you think you're going?" Schiller asked. "The military has surrounded this place. Your intention was never to be found by the military since you came here on your own, right? You're convicts. What did you do? Betray them? Betraying the military isn't easily forgiven in Germany, and probably not here in this world either. What will you do? You might be able to escape from me, but you can't escape from your own people."
"That's none of your business," Edward replied. "We're getting my little brother out of this hell. That's all."
Schiller smiled, simply walked slowly towards the wall and hung up the torch in a hook. Then he turned to them again, clutching his shoulder tightly with one hand and held the gun steadily in the other. "That won't be so easy. I don't recommend any of the ways you're seeing behind me."
"And why would we listen to you?" Edward asked spitefully.
Schiller shrugged. "My friends use them as a safer escape route, getting them unseen in and out of the headquarters. They're probably on their way right now. They'll be here in mere minutes. If you go that way you'll run right into them."
Alfons gazed nervously behind Schiller. He even thought he could hear the sounds of other footsteps and voices, coming from one of the hallways.
This was bad.
Edward gritted his teeth.
"But I have an offer for you," Schiller said. "You probably won't like it, but it is your only chance of getting out of here alive."
"Like we'll even listen!" Edward bellowed angrily.
"What's the offer?" Alfons asked sternly. He received a frowning look from Edward.
"I can show you the short cut and it'll lead to a secret way out of here," Schiller said. "If you give me the boy."
Edward and Alfons' eyes darkened.
"If that's the only offer you can make," Alfons started.
"- then forget it," Edward finished.
There was no way they would give up the reason for coming here at all. They had sworn to each other that they were willing to risk their own lives to save Alphonse.
"If that's the way you want it then," Schiller muttered. He reached for his pocket.
"Don't!" Alfons warned, his voice close to panic.
But Schiller didn't stop. He threw something towards them; something that looked like a small tin can.
Edward and Alfons gasped as the can landed by their feet, and thick smoke welled out of it.
Not good. The smoke filled the hall, making Alfons utterly blind. And it was too late to go look for the torch again. "Edward!" he yelled, feeling after him. He coughed hard and curved down in spasms. He lifted his shirt in front of his nose and mouth, hoping it would block some of it out, whatever this smoke was.
A hand grabbed his shoulder and Alfons jumped and pulled to get away.
"It's me," Edward said muffled. "Hurry up!" He staggered a little while covering half of his face with his shirt. "We have to run back!"
No way, Alfons thought. But they didn't have a choice, so he could only nod in agree. Now he could clearly hear the sounds of yelling and running feet. They were getting company.
"Quick!" Edward wheezed and pushed Alfons forward with his shoulder, and then they were running. Away from Schiller and the smoke and the running steps of others that could be either Thule or the military. He didn't know, and neither did he want to find out.
Alfons suddenly discovered a new problem. He felt his running started to grow slower, and so did Edwards. They were both exhausted, and Edward still carried the extra weight. However, it was still him who first realized that he wouldn't make it any much further. He only wished he was as strong as Edward...
Alfons slowed down to a complete halt and leant his back heavily against the wall. "I'm sorry, Edward," he whispered and his side stinging and legs refusing to move any further. "I can't run anymore."
Edward stopped and turned, giving him a worried look. Alfons breathed heavily and jerked at the sounds of yelling voices. They were coming closer.
Edward cursed underneath his breath. They were trapped. They would never make it up the long stairs, and the hallway was so dark they could barely see anything. He walked back to Alfons' side while lowering his unconscious brother down from his back and lifted him in bridal style.
Al looked pale and motionless. His head lolled back, utterly insentient. Edward gritted his teeth together.
Alfons pressed his back against the wall, not looking at Edward. They would get captured again because of him. No, he wouldn't let that happen.
"Leave me," he said sternly. "Go!"
Edward looked up at him, eyes hardening. "Don't be ridiculous," he hissed back. Then his gaze lowered and he watched his little brother's unmoving form. "Can you..." he started. "Can you carry him for me?"
Alfons looked a little questioningly at him. Then he nodded fast and accepted the small and lax body into his arms. Whatever Edward had in mind, this wasn't the time to start opposing against him.
Immediately after Edward clapped resolutely and touched the wall. The wall transmuted to an opening. Alfons' eyes widened. A tunnel.
"Go," Edward said fast. "Take him somewhere safe. I'll find you within thirty minutes, but if not, take the plane without me."
What? What was Edward saying? Why couldn't they go together? Alfons found himself completely frozen. He changed his mind. This was a very good time to start opposing Edward.
"What do you mean?" he stuttered. "I can't... I don't know how to--"
"There's no time!" Edward barked and pushed him inside the wall, making Alfons stumble forward and almost lose grip of the unconscious Elric-brother. Then Edward clapped again hard.
"Edward!" Alfons yelled. "What are you going to do?!"
Edward touched the wall again, which made the hole start to shrink and return to a normal wall again. Edward avoided his eyes and his long golden bangs cast a shadow over his features. "Just hurry up and run! I'll slow them down. I'm counting on you." The hole disappeared right after, leaving only a thick, black wall.
"Edward!" Alfons yelled again, clutching Alphonse's body against his chest with one arm. He slammed his fist into the solid concrete with the other. "EDWARD!"
How could he do something like this? He couldn't stand up alone against that many enemies at once. Had Edward lost his entire mind?!
Alfons leaned his forehead against the wall, closed his eyes and boxed against the wall with a clenched fist one last time. Alphonse's body was leaning heavily against him, only supported from falling by his arm.
Alfons' face softened and put the boy carefully down. They were safe here for now. While Edward had gone on some ridiculous suicide mission... How could he do something like that just when they had been so close from escaping? Edward risked never seeing his brother or him again.
Alfons shock his head. No. This was Edward. He was strong. He had to know what he was doing, right? Edward counted on him. He had to count on Edward too. And Edward wanted him to bring Al safely to Azure within thirty minutes.
Alfons didn't know the way. But right now he had only one way he could go. Edward must have intentionally made a tunnel in this direction.
He sat down on his knees beside Al, checking him for any broken bones or injuries. He didn't seem to be awfully hurt. He was breathing okay.
Alfons pulled him up and onto his back, the way Edward had carried him. He flinched a little from the sting in his side, but ignored it the second after. He was getting used to it now. Then he started moving up the tunnel. It wasn't going fast, but he was at least moving. He noticed that the tunnel was pointing upwards. He smiled. Edward had really thought this through. It might lead straight outside. But it was difficult to see anything. Even though his eyes had gotten used to the darkness, it wasn't much light to follow in this home-made tunnel.
He wondered slightly how Al would react if he woke up right now, seeing him, an older version of himself carrying him around.
Once in a while, he took a small pause to avoid exhausting himself completely. He put Al down in the dirt, offering a soft apology and rested his back against the wall of earth. Closing his eyes for a couple of minutes, he hoped Edward would be okay.
--
"Now now, what do we have here?" a voice purred.
The Thule soldiers lifted their guns at the blond figure in the dark hallway.
Edward stood some feet away from them, resting his back against the wall he had just transmuted back. He snorted. "You seem quite relaxed despite of being under an attack by the state military," he said.
"Where is the kid?" Schiller's voice broke through.
Edward's eyes darkened, brows furrowing. "I told you already, I'm getting him out of here." He moved slowly away from the wall, facing them. "You'll never touch him again," he muttered dangerously. Then he clapped.
Before anyone could react or fire their weapons, Edward touched the ground, sending out a massive network of spears out from every direction. The walls, the ground and the ceiling right in front of them.
Hopefully it would scare them off. He closed his eyes and begun to turn, but then he abruptly stopped by the sound he heard. It was an agonized, choked sound. Edward whipped around, eyes wide.
One of the Germans had stood too close to his transmutation. He had been trapped between the stone, his body getting crushed between them. A river of crimson was painting the dark stone.
Edward stepped backwards while his eyes widened until his back hit the wall. He rested his forehead towards the cold stone, trying not to regret anything. It had been them or him. This man had helped them killing thousands of other people. They didn't deserve to li--
The man screamed out of agony, not able to form any words.
Edward took a deep breath. Who was he to decide? Did this man deserve to live any less than any other people? He was still alive, so there was still time.
Gritting his teeth, Edward clapped again and undid the transmutation, opening up the view for the other men from Thule Society and the pressure on the hurt man was removed. The screaming didn't end, but that meant at least he would survive.
Edward closed his eyes and sank defeated to his knees, exhausted of everything. Al would be safe. That was the most important thing.
Two of the Thule-soldiers rushed to their hurt comrade, and Edward heard the sounds of guns being loaded and the sound of feet closing in on him.
A hand clutched tightly around his collar and he lifted his head slowly, looking right into the hilt of a gun. Schiller breathed out heavily. His face was sweaty and blooded and so was his arm he gripped Edward with.
Edward didn't fight him, just met his eyes.
"You'll get your judgement right here," Schiller said loudly. Then he turned to his comrades. "I'll take care of him. Go back with Fischer, or he'll die."
The rest nodded, except for one. "You're hurt," he said. "I'll stay."
"Fine," Schiller nodded.
Edward lowered his head. This was it. The strongest would survive. The killer was the strongest. And he knew within himself that he would never have the guts it would take to take a human's life. That would be his end.
Schiller stared hard at him. "Look at me."
Edward lifted his gaze slowly, forcing himself to face the German's steel eyes. They were cold as ice, but to his surprise they suddenly shifted. The eyes saddened.
"I didn't..." the man started. "I never touched him..." His hand shifted, clutching harder at front of Edward's shirt, and the man sank to his knees in front of him.
Edward stared bluntly at him in confusion and apprehensiveness. What was he saying this suddenly? Schiller was so close that Edward's shirt turned crimson from the bullet wound.
"I took care of him..." Schiller continued. "He spoke with me... I didn't feel alone when I had him..."
Edward wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Wasn't Schiller going to kill him? It rather looked like he wanted to be forgiven. Edward scowled. Did Schiller want him to forgive him for holding Al before he killed him? He shuddered, watching Schiller cling to him and bleed.
"When he contacted you... I was ordered to beat him... and I did... but I tried to not make it too painful for him." Schiller sounded more and more desperate. "I was worried about him. He's... He's wounded enough inside."
Edward started trembling, golden eyes widening.
"Schiller!" the other man suddenly called, he had almost forgotten that he was there. "Just kill him!"
Edward didn't have time to do anything. He was utterly frozen to his knees.
Schiller jerked around and pointed his gun towards his comrade. "I'm sorry." The gunshot loomed in the dark and echoed through the hallway, dragging Edward back to reality. He gasped as the soldier fell dead to the ground, bleeding from his skull.
Schiller turned at him again. "Foolish boy... Why are you here?" The man gritted his teeth, looking like he was in great pain. His wound looked quite ugly. "Kiddo needs his big brother..." he whispered. "It's finding him he lives for. Hurry up and go to him instead of wasting your life away like this."
Then Schiller released Edward's shirt and pulled himself away, lying down on the ground. Slowly and while trembling, he lifted his gun to his own head. "I told him... I would either get killed or go insane," he spoke in a low voice. "That would be my fate."
Edward was shaking, sitting himself up and stared widely at the man. "No, stop!" He jerked his metal foot forward, kicking the gun away from Schiller's hand before he managed to pull the trigger.
Schiller growled and twisted his head after it where the weapon landed.
"What about your wish to return to Germany?" Edward bellowed, trying to control his own trembling. Schiller's intention hadn't been to kill him after all... At least not anymore. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?" he asked fast. "Why are you here?"
Schiller stilled, resting his head on the ground. "Because... my mind was.... already blurred with hate. People that was different from me. They scared me and I hated them. Until I met your brother."
"Al..." Edward whispered.
"I didn't want him to disappear too," Schiller supposed quietly. "At least not because of war. The war has already killed me and everyone I cared about."
Edward fought a lump in his throat. "Years ago there was a war in this world as well. The war was manipulated to start by higher hands with different plans." He snorted, staring down at his clenched fists. "It happens in the other world too. The same damned thing. People hate each other because they're afraid. Dietlinde Eckart told me that herself once."
Schiller watched him closely. "Allow me to give you a small advice... Never think of going back there, Edward Elric. War will always reek about in that world."
Edward stared at him with wide eyes.
"Protect your brother."
By that Edward's guard was completely off.
Schiller abruptly threw himself for the gun, kicking Edward hard in the gut as he did so. Edward lost his breath, landing heavily on his back and struggled for some seconds to gasp enough air down his lungs. And when he finally recovered enough to look up, Schiller mimed two words before he put the gun in his own mouth.
Forgive me.
He fired.
Edward screamed, holding an arm in front of his face. A spray of crimson covered his arm and clothes. Hurriedly he backed away from the dead man, swallowing and swallowing to avoid the lump in his throat to choke him.
Pressing his back against the wall, he clutched the hard ground with his fingers. "Damn it, damn it!"
This was so fucked up. He hadn't been able to stop it even if he had tried. Why had he even stayed behind? Only to make himself a murderer? Maybe it had been for the same reasons as Schiller. That he had a mind starting to get blurred with hate. Because he was afraid...
His hand shifted towards his pocket, quickly picking up Al's state alchemist watch. Pressing on the top, he opened it and stared at the familiar design.
Inside the locket, something was written. "Don't forget April 7th 1915".
The date he had resurrected Al and disappeared through the Gate. Al had written it down as his motivation as being a dog of the military. This was his reason.
Just like he himself had done years ago.
Edward breathed heavily, lifting his gaze towards the two unmoving bodies. Dead. Bleeding. There was blood everywhere in the hallway. A single flickering torch confirmed it, casting flickering shadows on the walls along with the smell. The smell of blood.
Closing his eyes, Edward felt himself tremble against the cold wall of stone. Schiller was right. He was a fool. He couldn't stay behind here when his little brother needed him. He wasn't safe yet.
He closed the watch and stuffed it back down in his pocket as tears welled up in his eyes. Al might have seemed okay and unhurt. But his real wounds were on the inside, and only Edward could do something about it. Al had searched for him, and now that he had finally found him, Edward had almost killed and gotten himself killed for nothing. For hate.
Edward rose slowly to his feet, supporting himself to the wall. He would remember this. Not forgetting this would perhaps teach him something of how this world worked. That it was a cruel place where equal exchange didn't exist. The dead never gained anything. His teacher had tried to make him understand that over two years ago, but he had always wanted the principle to exist. It was as his motivation. That everything he ever had done had never been for nothing.
Even if the Gate had separated him from Al, it had given him the chance to meet Alfons. He would never regret that. Alfons was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Wasting that away was not something he ought to do either.
He clapped his hands and touched the wall behind him. A hole was made and a new tunnel dug its way upwards.
He disappeared inside and transmuting himself inside the darkness, thinking darkly that if he was captured by the military in the end and put on a death row, he had at least done something to deserve it now.
--
Still carrying the slender boy on his back, Alfons moved forwards more slowly than before, but he was still going. That was the most important thing, he told himself. Just continue forward...
He gazed up ahead, his heart lifted by the sight of a small circle of bright light. It was daylight, and it wasn't too far away. Seeing it gave him a new amount of strength. This tunnel had an end, and he would reach it soon. Hopefully Edward would find a way back too, right after them.
The circle of light grew bigger as he came closer. "We'll be there soon, Alphonse," he said in a reassuring voice. Perhaps to reassure himself as much as the unconscious little brother.
His wariness grew along with his relief as he could spot the end of the tunnels only a few yards before him. He stopped and listened. Listened after any sound that could tell him if he was alone or not. If someone was waiting for him out there, his exhausted body wouldn't hold out for long.
But everything was silent.
Alfons stepped out in the pale sunlight, scanning every direction to find out where he had ended up. There were trees all around him. They were in the forest. If it was the same forest that he and Edward had hid Azure in, which it had to be, it meant that the plane couldn't be far away.
His heart beat faster in an exciting speed. If only Edward would show up maybe they could actually make it. He started to move in the direction he thought would be the right one.
"Hold it right there!" a high voice called from somewhere behind him.
Alfons stopped abruptly, frozen to the ground.
"Put down the boy and keep your arms where I can see them."
Alfons was shaking. This couldn't be happening. He had been so close. Edward would be disappointed. Of course he would mess up when they were so close in succeeding. Alfons slowly lowered himself and dropped Alphonse Elric carefully down. Then he stood up again, lifting his arms up. He had no idea who had caught him.
Was it the military or Thule Society?
"I'm impressed that you came this far, Mr. Heiderich," a female voice said, and Alfons' heart sank, recognizing it as the voice of Dietlinde Eckart.
Hadn't they been inside the vessel?
He turned slowly around, eyeing a group of Thule soldiers and Dietlinde Eckart in the middle, holding her hands on her hips like a mother ready to scowl her child for being late for dinner. "Where is your dear friend Edward?" she asked.
"I don't know," Alfons replied, slightly relieved that they hadn't already caught him.
"Oh, that's a bummer," Eckart said. "Seize them."
The soldiers closed the distance from him, pointing their guns right at him. Wary Alfons discreetly moved his hand behind his back – towards the gun.
"Don't move," one of the soldiers said, lowering the gun towards Alphonse.
Alfons gazed nervously down at the form by his feet. His younger lookalike lay motionlessly on his side. Alfons' heart darkened. He wasn't even able to protect someone. All his life, he himself was the one that had been protected. Edward had even saved his life more than once.
This one time, he wanted to protect Edward and his brother. And he couldn't...
"Stop!" a stern voice called. "Hold your fire."
The voice sounded strangely familiar.
Alfons twisted his head sharply and looked behind him, his eyes widening of fear and relief at the same time.
Colonel Roy Mustang stood there with his arm stretched out, fingers ready to snap. Beside him stood his 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye and his 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc, and behind him stood the rest of his entire unit.
Alfons found himself standing in the middle, surrounded by Thule Society on one side and the Amestris State Military on the other. Shaking and standing stiff in horror, Alfons wondered what would get him out of this mess. If anyone started shooting, he would be in the middle of the crossfire.
"Leave the boys alone," Mustang called solidly.
"Make a move and he dies, soldier," Eckart replied.
Alfons' shoulders tensed. This was really bad.
"Take them," Eckart ordered again. "We'll need them as hostages."
Alfons turned at them again, seeing three Thule soldiers closing in to grab him and Al. He cursed underneath his breath. He would be entirely too exhausted to fight them. He wouldn't stand a chance, even less be able to protect himself and Al at the same time.
"Don't touch him!" a new familiar voice said austerely.
Alfons' stomach made a twirl, and turned to his left. Edward pointed a gun towards the Thule soldiers, even though he didn't actually hold one. He had transmuted his entire arm to become a gun.
Slowly he walked towards Alfons, with his eyes on Thule and completely ignoring the military.
"Edward!" Mustang yelled. "Don't be ridiculous!"
Edward stopped by Alfons' side, giving him a thin smile. "Good job."
"Shut up," Alfons muttered. This was really no time for jokes.
"If you shoot us," Edward said louder, eyeing the Thule-soldiers, "they'll shoot you," he said, referring to the military. "If you leave us alone, you'll live. Your choice." His arm was still pointing dangerously at them, but they got the message. They wouldn't walk right into an obvious death trap. They backed slowly towards their leader, who stood in the background. Dietlinde Eckart was literally gnarling in anger.
Edward hurriedly picked up his brother and hoisted him up on his back again, only holding him up with one arm now. He kept his automail arm free as their defence. Supporting him on that, Alfons brought his own gun up.
"Let's go, Alfons," Edward muttered.
Edward turned sharply and moved, and Alfons backed away from the two offensive groups, still with the gun in front of him, before he turned as well and started running. They hurried away towards the trees to shield them more from sight. The sound of voices could be heard behind them, but no one started a crossing fire.
Alfons ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. Before he knew it, tears were welling up in his eyes. "Edward!" he blurted. "Stupid idiot! Why the hell did you stay behind?"
Edward just ran beside him, not replying directly. Instead he asked: "Are you all right?"
Alfons had no idea what to answer to that. He had been better. But worse too.
Although, it would've been even better if he could just wake up from this nightmare soon.