Chapter 22: Until Tomorrow

Everything is obscure. Dark.

Where was he? It seemed almost like his mind was coming back into awareness alone, and the blackness in front of his eyes along with his body remained in an unconscious state. He didn't have a clue what was going on. Either he had one foot inside his own grave, or he resembled a living photograph – developing in darkness before coming into clear view.

Alfons took some deep breaths and attempted to move, but his body refused to react yet. Yet he was somehow moving while laying still, the ground neither soft nor hard. Dizziness. Nausea. It felt like he was lying on a mattress far out at sea, where the whole world got tossed up and down by colossal waves. Though, everything was painstakingly silent. Almost peaceful, but still not.

Nevertheless, his mind was working, and he tried to sort out his memories. The last thing he could remember was that the Colonel had arrived, and he had taken care of Al. Things were kind of fuzzy after that. The military had probably drugged him like they had done with Edward, and taken him to one of the military cars.

Edward...

Alfons' fingers closed and opened. That was all he managed to do. He tried to force his eyes open, but it didn't seem like any signals managed to reach his eyelids to tell them to open up. He tried his voice.

"Hello?" It was only a faint whisper, barely that. More like he was just mouthing the word and the sound of his breathing was louder than the sound of his voice. How long was this going to last? He had no idea what kind of drug they had used on him. His mouth tasted awful, and his throat was dry.

Then suddenly, a thin stream of dim light managed to force its way underneath his eyelids. The light was encouraging, and he concentrated his eyes hard. Then he opened them up wide, as wide as he could. He could see no clear image, only a light grey colour prickling in front of his eyes, but he knew that they were at least open now. Patiently, he waited for his eyes to gain back to normal and for the dizziness to disappear. While slowly gaining back his focus, Alfons was staring straight up into the vacant ceiling, his eyelids still extended without blinking. He was almost felt afraid that he wouldn't be able to open them again if they closed.

He moved his head and stared hazily around the unfamiliar room, noticing that he was lying on a thin mattress on the floor (not out at sea – even if it still felt like it). The room was plain grey and empty. Alfons realized, he was in some kind of prison cell.

He attempted to sit up, despite the dizziness and nausea. He managed in the end, groaning and supported himself on his palms. Where was this place? Where was Edward? What were they planning on doing to him?

Alfons was completely alone. His shoulders sank. There wasn't any point trying the door. It didn't even have a knob on his side. His fingers clutched the thin sheet underneath him. He wanted to know if Edward was alright. But as long as he was locked up in here, he was useless to Edward. Alfons trembled a little. It was awfully chilly inside the cell. His hands were stiff and cold as ice. He pinned them between his thighs, trying to gather some warmth.

The door abruptly clicked loudly, and Alfons started. His heart was pounding, and actually he felt... terrified. What was he supposed to say to the military?

The door opened widely, and a man with raven-black hair entered firmly. Alfons' eyes widened. He was surprised to see him and remained silent as Colonel Roy Mustang stepped straight into the room, looking a little tired... and cold.

Alfons lifted his gaze to meet his eyes. "Mustang..." His voice sounded awfully weak, and his throat was still dry as dust.

"Bring him some water," Mustang ordered without turning from Alfons, but not directly replying to his statement either.

"Yes, sir," someone outside replied.

Alfons just stared hazily up at the man in wonder. He was about to open his mouth and speak again, but the Colonel held up his hand as to stop him before he had a chance to start. Instead Roy Mustang spoke. "To be honest with you, Heiderich, you better keep quiet and just listen because you are in some deep trouble."

Alfons closed his mouth obediently and swallowed. He felt ashamed and he stared a little anxiously up at the Colonel.

Mustang had a deep furrow on his forehead and still held his hand up while lightly waving it a little up and down like he was cutting a steak, as if gesticulating that what he was about to say was a slightly difficult thing to say for even him. "Do not think that I can immediately help you out of this mess like I did when we first met, because this is something even more severe and my hands are tied on the whole matter."

Alfons' heart darkened. "Where is this place?"

"Central Headquarters."

So they had been brought to Central already, he thought grimly. "What's going to happen now?" he asked in a low voice.

"You will probably have to stay here in this holding cell until Edward's hearing is over," Mustang replied a little gruffly. "It has been decided that it will start tomorrow morning."

Alfons allowed himself to scowl at this. This was it? Was this the best this man could do? The amazing Colonel with fire alchemy-skills and deep respect from his subordinates?

Yes, it was.

"We were lucky enough that Edward gets a hearing at all. Since they were originally planning to postpone it because of the last encounter with Thule Society, he'll get one arranged by the Council." Mustang turned to leave. "You'll be informed further in the matter concerning yourself tomorrow – by your commanding officer," he added, and Alfons shuddered. "Farewell."

"Wait," Alfons said hoarsely. He decided he couldn't just accept this. He had to try to compromise. Anything. "Where is Edward?" he asked. "I want to see him."

Mustang stopped in the doorway with his back still turned to him. "That is impossible," he said silently. "I'm sorry, Alfons."

Alfons rose up from the mattress he had been sitting on. Maybe a little too fast. He became awfully dizzy and swayed on his unsteady feet. But he didn't give in. "You have to stop it!" he exhaled. "There's no way you can't do anything! You're the only one who can!"

"I said, my hands are tied," Mustang replied.

"Are you just going to let them execute him?" Alfons shouted. "What about Al? He's just been able to see his brother again, and now Edward's life is in danger and everything is my fault, because I couldn't do a single thing...!" Alfons rambled on as he stood there, not really sure where he was going. "If Edward is... I can't..." Warm tears started to well up in his eyes, his throat swelling.

I love him...

Mustang didn't even offer him a look. "Get yourself some proper sleep," he said instead. "There's nothing else you can do." Then he left.

A soldier came in with a mug of water for him and put it down on the floor beside the mattress before he quickly left again and brought the door with him on his way out.

Then he was locked up again. Alone. He felt pathetic.

Alfons backed towards the wall until it hit his back and he pressed himself to it. What was going on with Mustang? Was he leaving everything to the higher-ups? Didn't he even want to try to help Edward?

He sank to the floor by the wall and wrapped his arms tightly around his knees, cringing from his own thoughts. How did everything suddenly go so wrong? Maybe it had been Alfons who had been supposed to stop Edward from running away in the first place. Didn't he influence Edward more than the Colonel did? If so, maybe that was a bad thing. Alfons knew he didn't trust himself enough, at least not anymore. And look where they had ended up. He didn't even know if Edward was alright. Whatever happened, it was his fault.

Alfons wished he knew more about Edward and the whole situation. He couldn't just sit there and pity himself, not to mention blame himself. Alfons knew that one of his weaknesses was that he had the tendency to feel guilty for everything that went wrong, even if he knew that he wasn't the one to deserve the entirety of the blame. This attribute made him therefore weaker in many ways, but somehow it also made him stronger. Alfons' weakness was the source of his stubbornness, and his stubbornness again led to create willpower inside of him. Willpower was an attribute that kept him going, and that was something he refused to let go of.

If this was his responsibility, he would do something. If the Colonel couldn't do anything, Alfons at least wanted to. He would die defending Edward if he had to.

The problem was that he was locked up, he was alone, he had no authority in this world, and there was no one in general that he could count on helping him. All the other people he knew in Central were subordinates of Mustang, and therefore having no other obligation or choice than following the Colonel.

Even Al.

If they opposed the military, Havoc, Breda, Falman, Riza... they would only have to face bad consequences as well. They would be locked up in a prison cell just like he was.

In general everything seemed... hopeless. Hopeless enough to give up...

The door knocked, making Alfons jump out of his thoughts again. The door knocked? What did they expect him to do? Open up a locked door without a knob? Or welcome them inside? Tea and cookies? Mildly frustrated, Alfons doubted he would get any good news anyway, so instead of getting up he hunched together by the wall. For some reason he was completely unable to prevent his shoulders from trembling. He didn't say anything as the person outside waited patiently for him to reply. Alfons felt utterly pathetic. He was probably supposed to jump to his feet, acting brave and spirited, and demand the person standing there to let him see Edward. But it would probably be no use. Alfons realized suddenly, at this very moment, that his willpower had slipped away before he could even clutch onto it properly.

Had he really given up?

The door opened, and a familiar tall man entered, and Alfons' mood didn't improve. If possible, it rather sank even lower down into the pit of hopelessness. But somehow, he had known who the person that knocked would be so he didn't find himself exceptionally surprised to see him.

Brigadier General Kiehle entered the cell with an unreadable, calm look on his face. The door shut closed behind him with a low click which made Alfons shudder, and even a bit more alarmed. Why did he need such privacy with him?

Kiehle stopped in front of him, and there was a small silence. Alfons didn't meet his eyes. He found himself a little scared. Or no, not scared. Actually, he had never stopped being terrified since he woke up in the first place.

This man had made absolutely everything worse since the very first moment Alfons had met him. He was the one who had wanted to take over the Azure-project and succeeded, he was the one who had upset Edward and told him Al had gotten killed. All because of Thule Society's spy, the man called Thomas Peterson, Sergeant of the Brigadier General's unit who had been influencing his decisions. Alfons mused. Kiehle probably still didn't know about it. But if he told Carl R. Kiehle about his Sergeant, he would probably not believe him. Kiehle was a selfish bastard who only wanted power, as Edward would've said it. He felt the man's eyes on him, and any minute he would be forced to speak to him.

"Alfons," Kiehle commenced. His voice was surprisingly gentle, almost warm. "Why are you sitting there?"

Because you put me here?

Alfons wanted to say it out loud, but he didn't. He wasn't brave enough to do such thing. He wasn't like Edward. He ended up with no reply at all, and Alfons felt like he was in even more trouble. Showing disrespect towards this man now was probably the last thing he needed to be added to his record.

Then all of a sudden the officer simply offered his hand to him, as to help him up on his feet. "It pains me to see you like this, Alfons," he said. "You are one of my subordinates after all."

Alfons lifted his head a little and stared puzzled at the hand. What was this sudden kindness? Probably false, but still... why did the man bother?

Did it pain you to see your subordinates beat Edward to blood? he wanted to ask, but ended up with just thinking it as well.

"I'm fine," he muttered instead, and supported himself against the wall in order to stand up on his own.

Kiehle retrieved his hand with a small smile and waited patiently for him to stand back up on his feet. Alfons felt already exhausted as he managed to straighten himself and as soon as he stepped away from the wall, he swayed dangerously back and forth. Before he even knew it, the man had wrapped a strong arm around his chest and shoulders to support him.

"Easy there," the Brigadier said. "Don't force yourself too hard. You've been through a lot."

Alfons didn't know if he had been able to keep himself from falling face-down on the cold floor if Kiehle hadn't caught him, but he chose to ignore that. Or refuse to admit it to himself. This man touching him freaked him out enough that he'd almost rather fall. Alfons pushed himself away from him and stepped back, feeling a little embarrassed and weak. And Kiehle probably knew it well.

"I'm fine, sir," he said, sounding quite lame.

"Are you sure about that? You look pale, Alfons."

"I was drugged," Alfons said. A small tad accusingly.

"I'm truly sorry about that," the older man said, his voice actually sounding like he tried to mean it. "It was procedure."

Procedure?

"Maybe you should lie down and rest some more," Kiehle suggested.

"Why are you here?" Alfons thought he might be able to scowl away all the false kindness. What was in it to this man?

"I'm your commanding officer, Alfons," Kiehle simply said, and Alfons was almost annoyed by how much the man used his first name. It almost didn't seem like a formal meeting at all.

"That means that I am responsible for you and your actions, after all," the Brigadier General continued.

Alfons looked away again.

"I have some important things to discuss with you, so please listen," the man added. "That's why I am here."

Alfons nodded. "Alright." He could listen.

"I've understood that the elder Elric is former Major already, since he left his pocket watch before he shamelessly ran away, but I'm afraid that doesn't excuse what he has done."

The Brigadier General started to sound more like himself, Alfons thought.

"He will still face the trial, as I'm sure you already know."

So what they had first called a hearing was more like a trial now... Alfons should've known.

"But the same doesn't quite count for you," Kiehle continued, and Alfons lifted his gaze at him again. "Although a serious crime has been committed, where an important machine was stolen and wretched into the ocean," Kiehle went on, "neither I nor the Council are aware of every circumstance concerning you and the whole aspect of the situation."

"What does that mean?" Alfons asked.

"I will ask you a couple of questions, and depending on how you choose to answer, I have the obligation from the Fuhrer himself to decide the right judgement on you," the Brigadier General said. "So if I were you, I'd choose to answer wisely."

Alfons was unsure of what to make out of this. Was it some sort of trap? But he nodded again. "Yes, sir." Whatever this was leading him to, he would find out eventually.

"Good, I'm glad you understand," the Brigadier General beamed. "So, the only thing I'm interested in is your role in the entire ruckus really. I've already spoken to Edward Elric, and he claims that he forced you to join him in stealing the Azure-project."

"Forced me?" Alfons quacked.

"Yes. You didn't want to go but you didn't have a choice because he forced you, isn't that correct, Alfons?"

Alfons opened his mouth to deny it, but then he stopped. Had Edward told them this because he had tried to save him? By saying that he wasn't really a part of it? Typical Edward, always trying to save everyone other than himself. Alfons' stomach nagged and made him shudder in discomfort. Agreeing to this meant to sell out Edward completely.

"I want to see Edward," Alfons replied. His mind was in panic. Was he supposed to lie? He had forgotten how to!

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that until we're finished," Kiehle said smoothly, and Alfons' eyes widened. What did this mean? It seemed suddenly like Kiehle was indicating that he would be free if he just admitted to what Edward had said. The Brigadier had said that he was to answer wisely, not actually honestly. Did that mean that the Brigadier knew the truth? Was Kiehle the one who was helping him? Alfons had a troubled feeling.

Carl R. Kiehle helping someone was just suspicious... But either way, Alfons had already found out that he couldn't depend on Mustang's help, and Alfons obviously couldn't do something to help Edward as long as he was locked away in here.

Alfons literally felt his willpower flow back inside him, and he nodded firmly. Despite feeling like an asshole on top of that...

"I didn't like his decision," Alfons said, "or was fond of the idea at all. I tried to talk him out of it, but he had overheard something, and had found out where Alphonse could be. So obviously he didn't want to waste any time in finding him." That was actually the truth.

Kiehle nodded as he spoke. "I understand," he replied, not seeming to question his answer at all. "Then he made you go through with it?"

Alfons had only to give the man a nod. "Yes," he whispered. Now that was a lie.

"I see," Kiehle said. "In that case, the Fuhrer has already agreed with me that you have nothing to be arrested for, as long as you keep serving your duty in the military."

Alfons could hardly believe it. That was it? He was free to go?

"You may come with me," Kiehle said and made a sign for Alfons to follow him.

Alfons' eyes lit up, and didn't waste any time by not following. "Please, sir," he said, turning on all the politeness he could offer in his current state of confusion and shame. "Please, let me see Edward."

The Brigadier General nodded with a small smile. "Luckily for you I'm able to pull some strings, so with my jurisdiction you'll be allowed to see him."

Alfons' heart was racing.

"Follow this way, Alfons."

This was almost too good to be true.

He was brought deep down the cellars inside the Central Headquarters. Alfons understood that these prison cells were only temporary holding cells, and this particular branch was made for State Alchemists. The air smelled entirely different and kind of heavy, and something about the surrounding environment made Alfons' ears feel like they were stuffed with cotton.

"Here it is," Kiehle said, stopping by a door. "Just wait in here, and he'll be brought to you soon." He opened the door for Alfons, who only hesitated for a tiny second before he went inside with quick steps. He took a deep breath as he stopped in the middle of the small room (the middle of the room was only a couple of steps inside the door), eyeing the setting.

This room was made for visitors, perhaps mainly between the prisoner and the attorney or superior officer. Alfons took another step towards a small table with one stool. The table, or rather the whole room, was split in half with the table in the middle. The one thing parting the entire room in half was a huge window. On the other side of the window was a small room similar to the one he was in, with the other half of the table and another stool inside.

Alfons' heart sank. Edward would be on the other side of the glass. He would be able to see him and talk to him, but that was all. He wouldn't be able to touch him...

The door finally went up on the other side of the glass, and Edward was brought in, kind of roughly, by an armed soldier.

Alfons felt an alarming tug at his stomach, while searching for Edward's eye contact. He didn't have it yet. Judging after the expression on Edward's face it seemed like he hadn't been told who was here to see him yet. His hands were restrained in front of him with his wrists trapped in a pair of wooden cuffs.

"Edward!" Alfons exhaled and moved fast towards the wall of glass.

First then Edward found strength to look up and meet his eyes, first in wonder, then a wry smile appeared on his lips as he was carelessly tossed down on the stool by the table. He looked peeved, and his face had traces of the beating from the day before.

The guard finally left, and Alfons sank down on his own stool, leaning so close to the cool window that his nose almost touched it. A stream of white fog appeared on the glass. He wanted to cry. He wanted to yell at him. He wanted to hold him tightly and kiss him. But he couldn't do any of those options.

"Alfons," Edward said softly, eyeing him deeply as he carefully put his cuffed hands on the table to lean closer. "Are you hurt?" He spoke in a low voice. Like they were being overheard.

Right now Alfons didn't care about things like that. "Edward," he said. "I'm sorry!" He didn't really know exactly what he was apologizing for.

"Shut up and just answer my question," Edward said.

Alfons caught his own breath sharply, but shook his head and let out a sigh instead. "No, I'm not hurt. Are you?"

"I'm great," Edward said cheerfully. "You got out, right?"

Alfons snapped. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"It was the only thing I could say to get them to release your ass," Edward said in defence. "Don't act like you're mad at me."

Alfons leant closer to the glass, staring intently at him. "But now what? What about you? What am I supposed to do? I can't just sit and watch you getting..."

Edward lifted his hands up, stopping him from finishing the sentence. "Don't do anything," he replied, a little sharply. "I'll figure something out." Obviously, he saw the look in Alfons' eyes that he didn't like how this was turning out. "Alfons, don't interfere with the higher-ups on this," he said. "They won't listen to you, and you're just going to get yourself into trouble."

"But-" Alfons started. "Not even Mus-"

Edward shook his head croakily. "Mustang isn't my commanding officer at the moment. But right now he's trying to convince them into transferring me back."

Alfons went silent and closed his mouth, only listening. Was there hope left after all?

"He came by here earlier," Edward explained. "If he succeeds, he'll probably pay a prize for having to take responsibility for my actions, but all in all he'll help me get a milder sentence."

It sounded better, but Alfons still wasn't fully convinced. "Anything is milder than killing you," he bristled. "What is milder supposed to mean, anyway? Only a lifetime in prison?"

Edward snorted through a small smile by his sarcasm. "Alfons," he said. "All I care about right now is your and Al's safety. I'm able to think better when I know that you're safe."

Alfons stared at him with large blank eyes, unable to reply.

"When things have calmed down, I'll figure out something," Edward continued. "I promised you a new flat, right?" He kept his smile, in spite of his slightly swollen cheek. It looked like it still hurt, but hell if Edward would ever show it.

Alfons sniffled, putting his hands in front of his eyes. "Yes, actually you did," he mumbled silently. "But I'd rather want you to come with me out of here right now."

Edward leaned closer, whispering through the small holes in the glass. "Just wait. I'll be with you again soon."

Alfons touched the glass with his hand stretched out in front of him, and Edward replied the touch by moving his cuffed hands forward on the table and let his pale and slender fingertips make contact on the other side of the glass. The glass felt cold. Alfons tried to pretend that he felt Edward's warm hands instead, but he failed.

The armed guard came back in, and Edward discreetly moved back away from the glass.

"Your time is up, Elric."

Alfons received one last encouraging look from his beloved friend, before the guard escorted him firmly towards the door. Wasn't he the one who was supposed to be acting encouraging in this situation? Edward was always trying to do everything by himself.

Before Alfons could stop himself, he was on his feet and his hands supported against the table. "Edward, ich liebe dich!"

Immediately after the words had slipped, he felt the total wrongness of the situation kicking in. Had he just said that? Out loud?

Yes, he had really said them. Where the hell did those words come from? He had never ever been able to speak German in this world, even if he had wanted to.

Edward quirked his head abruptly back at him and stared with wide eyes. The guard turned back as well, looking a little suspiciously at Alfons. Obviously he hadn't understood what the words had meant, but that was probably why it was suspicious.

Edward quickly shook his head at him when the guard didn't have his attention directed at him, as to tell Alfons don't.

Don't say anything more, just leave.

Alfons pressed his own lips together and the guard turned for the door again, still frowning. Then Edward was gone.

Alfons closed his eyes. What did he just do? Why had he been able to speak German? He was kind of happy, but he wasn't supposed to be able to. German didn't exist in this world. He wondered if even Edward had understood what the words meant. He wasn't supposed to remember it either. Was it the Gate again? Or was it... the balance?

Alfons hurriedly went out of the room, deciding to put those thoughts away for now. So what if he could speak a foreign language... But he better not let anyone else in the military know. What if they took him for being a foreign spy from a hostile country? He remembered once Edward had told him about some political situations concerning Amestris, and that Amestris didn't trust many other countries.

He expected the Brigadier General to wait for him outside, but there was no one there. Fortunately he remembered which way he had come from. He wondered where Kiehle had disappeared off to. Alfons didn't like it, but he owed the man a thanks.

He reached another hall, and the sight that met him took him by surprise. He stopped in the entrance to the new room, looking straight at a very troubled-looking little brother. He was standing with Colonel Mustang and they seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument.

"I'm not allowed to do anything!"Al yelled out. "I want to see my brother!"

Alfons felt slightly bad, knowing well how he felt.

Mustang tried to get control over the young teen, taking a hold around his elbow. "Please, calm down, Alphonse. I've done everything I possibly can."

"Doesn't seem like it to me," Al bit him off. Then he suddenly noticed that Alfons came towards them from the corridor which was leading from the part of the prison where Edward was, and his eyes changed into astonishment. "Heiderich-san..." First he looked relieved, but then he scowled. "How did you get out?"

Alfons stopped by them, addressing Al. "I was excused. Somehow..." He didn't want to get into the details. The main reason was that he couldn't help Edward while being locked up.

Al softened a little. "I see."

Alfons offered him an apologetic look. "Edward is okay though, despite the circumstances." He tried to be honest, at least. Al deserved to know the truth. Alfons directed his eyes at Mustang. "He's even quite optimistic."

Did Mustang seem a little uncomfortable? He let go of Al's arm, and adjusted his own uniform jacket. "So you've seen him?" he said, trying to hide his surprise.

"Yes," Alfons said.

Could this man really help Edward as much as Edward believed? Or had the Colonel given Edward false hopes?

"Why is he allowed to see him and not me?" Al demanded. "I'm his brother!"

"I'm not the one to decide that," Mustang said sharply, his eyes still lingering on Alfons.

Alphonse looked brusquely from one to another, and his determined bronze eyes stopped at Alfons as well. "Did Brigadier General Kiehle let you see him?" he wanted to know.

The taller blond nodded once. "Yes."

Al immediately stepped forward after a sharp turn from Mustang and was already on his way down the hall when the Colonel stepped after him and grabbed a firm grasp around his arm, holding him back. Al whipped around as he was stopped and glared dangerously at Mustang. "I don't have time for this, let go."

"You're not going to see the Brigadier General," Mustang said.

"Why not?" Al fumed.

"Because I say so."

"Are you even trying to help my brother?" Al yelled.

Mustang was silent for some seconds without releasing Al's arm, and Alfons watched the man carefully, actually wondering the same thing.

"I've done everything I possibly could," Mustang said again. "But the higher-ups refused to transfer him back to me before the hearing."

Alfons had been afraid of that. "In that case," he shot in, "you at least owe it to him to be honest and to tell him the truth, because he thinks you're some superhero who's going to bail him out of it." He bit his teeth, and added: "Sir."

Al glared at them both. "I refuse to accept this." He'd break him out of there if he had to, and Mustang knew it.

The Colonel kept his one sharp eye towards Alfons, and Alfons thought he could suddenly see through a window to sadness inside the black orb, and he suddenly regretted his harsh words towards the man. It couldn't be that easy either, pulling those strings.

"Alfons," Mustang said calmly. "I know you might not believe me, but most of the time I've tried to have them let me speak his case in the trial," he surmised. "But they wouldn't change anything on how the whole situation looks right now. Believe me, I'm as frustrated as you over the military's ways of doing things. There will be some trouble."

Alfons swallowed. This was news to him. He hadn't even thought about what this trial-hearing would really be like. Probably not anything like a trial in his own world.

"Then... who is going to speak his case?" he asked hesitantly. He knew why this was a major problem. The only one who knew the exact situation and all the circumstances considering Edward's disappearance and return was Colonel Roy Mustang. No one else knew about the Gate or the parallel worlds, not even the human transmutation on Al, expect for in fact Alfons. And that was why, the only one who could figure out a proper cover story, was Roy Mustang.

"The Council has decided that the spokesman will be a neutral person from the outside."

A neutral? That was surely a surprise. Alfons had first thought it would be someone like the Brigadier General or a real attorney. But this was even worse. "How will that person be able to defend Edward?" Alfons asked, probably sounding as horrified as he felt.

Al looked equally scared now.

"I don't know," Mustang said honestly. "And I don't like it."

"This doesn't make sense at all!"

"It's how the rules are."

Mustang had for once no control of how this would go, Alfons realized. What Mustang was saying was true. The Colonel had no power in this matter. But then again, wasn't Edward more important than his rank? Didn't he care more about him than that?

But in that aspect, it wasn't Alfons' decision to make. He lowered his eyes from his. It was hopeless.

Steps suddenly approached behind Alfons, and when he turned around he wasn't surprised to see Carl R. Kiehle, since it would seem he was always showing up at the 'right' time.

Al suddenly pulled himself loose from Mustang and stepped forward. "Please, sir," he said. "Let me see my brother." He stared determinedly, but pleading with his large bronze eyes at the higher-ranked officer and bowed his head. "I'd be forever gratefu-"

Mustang stepped fast forward, interrupting the young Elric with a firm tug at his shoulder, jerking him out of the way. "Forgive his rudeness, sir," he said, saluting. "I understand that the request is out of the question."

The Brigadier General stared somewhat amused at both of them, and Mustang kept a sharp stare down at Al. "Major Elric, you'll come with me."

Al stared shocked at him.

"I'm sorry, Alphonse," Brigadier General Kiehle said, almost sounding sorry. "I'm afraid that can't happen now in this case. Usually I would do everything I can, but your commanding officer seems to be highly against it." Kiehle smiled. "You'll see him at the hearing tomorrow."

Al lowered his head at that, and this time he remained utterly silent.

Kiehle turned to Alfons. "I still have something important I want to discuss with you, Alfons, so let's take our leave as well."

Alfons couldn't do anything else than accept it. "Yes, sir."

Mustang didn't quite succeed hiding a small suspicious look at the other officer. "Excuse us, sir," he said. "Let's go, Alphonse." He turned to leave the section of the building, and was relieved to hear a pair of footsteps behind him which indicated that Al followed obediently. Even if his steps sounded hesitant.

Yes, Alphonse went after his superior, albeit it wasn't his greatest wish at the moment. He had realized that nothing more could be done for now. Hesitantly, he turned back to look over his shoulder at Alfons.

Alfons noticed the teen's questioning look at him, and he replied with a soft look in return, telling him that it was alright. Somehow he had felt Al's slight concern for him over being left alone with Kiehle. It was almost a little touching, and it made Alfons glad he had this kind of bond with Edward's brother by now. So much had happened that Al really felt like a friend to him. At least now, when they were both kind of fighting to get Edward released from this mess he didn't deserve to be in.

Al turned back, trusting the older teen to manage. He didn't like Alfons' situation either. He wasn't able to be transferred back to Mustang yet. Al's eyes gazed up Mustang's tall back where he went with fast steps before him. Al could sense his unease as well. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. The Colonel was probably mad at him because he had tried to act on his own again. But there were more important things than that to consider now.

"Mustang," he said, trying to get his attention, but the Colonel went on at same speed without looking back at him. Al's eyes narrowed. "Roy," he tried again, louder this time.

Mustang slowed down a little. "What?"

"Doesn't Heiderich-san have a point? Nii-san has the right to know the truth. When is he supposed to prepare himself for tomorrow? When will the spokesman arrive?"

There was a silence, which Al didn't like.

"It's already late, I'll drive you home to Hawkeye's place," Roy said instead of answering the questions. He knew Hawkeye didn't mind watching over the boy for a couple of days, and he trusted her to keep his mind straight as well. He couldn't afford to let Alphonse make any more stupid mistakes right before his nose again, just because of a mind clouded with emotions.

Al fell silent at his words again, lowering his head and looked down at his shoes as they reached the main doors. The silence remained until they were both inside Mustang's rented car, and he drove out of the military area.

Al gazed out the car window, watching the houses and buildings that passed by in a chaotic blur. He hardly ever sat in a car. As a suit of armour he had rarely been able to either. He sighed deep. "I remember most of it," he said in a low voice.

Mustang's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I remember. The last four years of my life." Al turned his eyes from the window and directed them at him instead. "I remember that I was a suit of armour. I remember you and Riza and everyone."

Roy frowned at him. "How?"

"Long story..." Al didn't want to reveal the details. "You didn't want the military to find Nii-san, did you?" he asked in a whispering voice. "You helped Heiderich-san out earlier, in the forest by Dublith."

"Of course I didn't want them to find him," Mustang muttered. "Still, it was my duty to look for you. I was worried about all of you."

Al gazed up at his face. It was directed at the road ahead. But his eye looked tired and glassy.

Al looked away again, shrinking down in his seat. "Everything is my fault. Just because I ran away towards that flying machine. If I hadn't disappeared, he wouldn't have run away again to look for me. If I hadn't made that call, he would never have figured out where I was either." Al buried his face in his palms. "It's all because of me."

Mustang felt slightly bad for his own thoughts a little while ago. Stupid mistakes? Everyone did them once in a while. "Alphonse, listen. You're not supposed to blame yourself for this situation," he said firmly, but Al refused to look at him.

Heavens, he wasn't good at these sorts of things. But he continued, keeping his voice solid: "You did it because you thought it would lead us to find Edward. You couldn't know at that time that your brother would show up only a week later, or any effect it would cause on the future. It happened. Everything happened, and here we are. You are lucky to even be alive. Maybe you hadn't been alive even, if Edward hadn't come for you at that time."

Al trembled lightly. "You don't know that."

Mustang stared hard at him. "I don't know much of what had happened, but Edward told me about how he found you when I visited him today. And if I ever meet the people responsible for that, I'll kill them."

Al finally lifted his eyes at him, staring widely. His dark gold eyes were stained of shameful droplets.

Roy directed his sharp eye towards the road again. "My point is, Edward will never regret a single thing of what he did."

Al knew that. But he did...

"Because he did it for you."

Staring straight forward, Alphonse found it hard to breathe for a moment.

"And I will go see Edward," Mustang added, "– after I've taken you to Hawkeye."

The boy nodded slowly. "I see..." Then he looked away out the window again, before he suddenly jerked up in his seat. "Oh no," he whispered and stared intently at Mustang.

"What is it?" Roy asked alarmed.

"There's something Nii-san… he wanted me to tell you something. I forgot about it because of everything that happened all at once," Alphonse said fast, barely breathing as he spoke.

"Then tell me now, and calm yourself down a little," Roy said.

Al's eyes narrowed and he breathed in deep. "There's a spy from Thule Society in the military."

Mustang hadn't expected that. The car took an abrupt spin right out of the road, and he hit the brakes with all his might. Al got slammed into the car door of the sudden twist.

While taking a couple of sharp breaths, he was still tightly clutching the wheel. "Are you alright?" he asked fast.

Al nodded dazed. "Roy, I'm sorry. I should've told you at once… But I was so worried about Nii-san, I-"

"It's okay, it's okay," Mustang interrupted him fast. "Edward didn't mention anything of this either." He had probably been too set upon getting Alfons out of prison to think about much else. "Just tell me everything you know." He didn't drive yet. He let the engine roll, but he let the car stand still on the side of the road while Al started explaining a little shakily.

"His name is Thomas Peterson, he is a Sergeant in the Brigadier General's unit," Al started. "Basically, that's what I know. But Edward talked to him on the train towards Lior. I was on it too, and when the train stopped he caught me. I pretended that I didn't know who he was, but I know that he was in Lior during the attack. It seems like the attacks started happening recently after he was employed."

"I don't know who he is," the Colonel muttered. "Ah wait, he was a part of Kiehle's surveillance group."

"Surveillance?" Al repeated.

"Yes, Kiehle found it necessary to keep Edward and Alfons under close watch after they returned."

Al frowned. "Is Kiehle part of Thule Society too?"

Mustang shook his head. "Sometimes it would seem so, but that's impossible. I think Thule Society might want us to believe that. But I've known him for several years."

"Then they're influencing him," Al surmised.

Mustang nodded. "It seems like it. Al, thanks for telling me this, but don't mention this to anyone else, do you understand? I have to figure out a wise way of using this information."

Al nodded slowly. "Yes, I understand… We can be able to stop Thule Society with this, right?"

Mustang gave him a small smile. "That's what I'm hoping. And the Brigadier General will have to face the truth."

They arrived at Hawkeye's house shortly after, and she met them in the doorway as they went out of the car. She gave Al a warm smile and embraced him as he reached the porch.

"Is everything alright?" she asked. "Any news?"

Mustang stood behind Al and crossed his arms. "Heiderich got let off the hook."

"That's a relief," she sighed.

"I'm not so sure what to think," Mustang said honestly.

Al frowned, and so did Riza.

"Why?" Al asked.

"Because it was the Brigadier General who arranged it," Roy said. "I'll never trust anything he ever does."

Riza nodded thoughtfully. "You're right."

"But please take care of this Alphonse for me, for now," Roy said, offering her a small smile.

She nodded.

"I'm okay," Al muttered.

"Get inside the warmth now," Riza ushered him inside the house. "I have dinner ready for you, just help yourself."

Al couldn't help admitting that he was hungry, and went in to get something to eat.

Hawkeye turned back to Mustang as he had gone, and gave him a serious look. "At least he seems to be okay."

Mustang nodded. "Thank you for taking care of him."

"Not at all," she said. "What about you? Don't you want to come in?"

Mustang shook his head. "I still have some business to attend to."

"I understand."

"See you in the morning," he said as he turned to take his leave.

Riza nodded. "Good night, sir."

Roy returned to his car and sat himself in with a deep sigh. Alfons Heiderich was right, after all. No one would tell Edward anything before tomorrow. And tomorrow it would already be too late to think. He wouldn't give Edward much stimulus to sleep tonight, but it was the right thing to do. He started the car again, and drove fast back towards Central Headquarters.

When he parked the car it had already become entirely dark outside. With long steps he strode through the corridors until he reached the branch where State Alchemists were being held pending on their hearings.

Mustang knew he still had to be careful considering this case. Of course he was still not beyond the ability to make a fatal mistake because of his own emotions either, at the same level as Al and Alfons. Only that he liked to consider himself more contained.

He stepped to the guard and ordered firmly: "Elric's cell, please."

The guard saluted and unlocked the door to a new hall, where the cells for State Alchemists were. Roy felt ill whenever he walked these halls, although he had never been an inmate himself. The entire branch contained a certain power that worked to weaken alchemists' power and energy, making it more difficult to perform alchemy. Roy had already felt it when he was outside the hall.

The guard stopped by the right cell and unlocked it for him. "Knock when you're done, sir," he said.

Mustang nodded and went inside. The door got shut tightly behind him, and in the dim lit room his eye needed some seconds to get used to the new setting. Then he could see Edward standing in a corner with his back at him, seemingly staring straight into the wall – in a way that told Roy that he had been standing like that for a long time. Ironically enough, Roy was reminded of a school boy who had been sentenced to a 'time-out' equipped with a dunce cap. He didn't turn around, even when he had heard someone enter his cell.

Mustang felt a little worried. Why was he just standing there? Edward could sit on his mattress or lie down if he wanted to.

"You're here again, huh," Edward said, still not turning around.

"How did you know that it was me?" Roy asked quietly, a little surprised.

"I recognized your breathing."

Mustang looked sharply at his back. "Edward, please sit down."

Edward chuckled softly. "There has to be something serious now, since you're back here this late in the evening and calling me by my first name." He turned half-heartedly around with a wry smile, and his wooden cuffs became visible to Mustang. They had come as a shock to him the first time he had visited too, and he would probably never get used to them. But of course they would restrain him like that, knowing what a great State Alchemist he had been. It was strange they hadn't tied him to the wall with a leash around his neck.

Roy found himself wanting to just go and rip Edward right out of there, right now. To a safe place. Hide him away from the cruel world. But he didn't. Instead he spoke. "I can't transfer you," he admitted, thinking he should better get right down to it.

Edward looked surprisingly calm. "I thought so. What else?"

Roy hesitated. It wasn't even like him to hesitate! No, he never hesitated about anything. Just now. "I can't speak your case tomorrow," he finally said.

Edward gazed him quietly in the eye, gold meeting ebony. His expression was hard to read.

"Is that so," he replied, not sounding very surprised at that either.

"They wanted someone neutral to do it," Mustang continued. "He'll come and meet you tomorrow morning, three hours before the hearing starts." Now he knew that much at least. The words had been said, but would it make anything better? Probably not. It was good this room wasn't bugged, or he'd be in trouble as well. An Amestrian prisoner had very few rights, and he as a Colonel didn't really have remit to inform him either.

Edward scowled up at him. At least that was an expression Mustang was more familiar with.

"I'm fucking screwed!" Edward said suddenly. "I won't be allowed to open my mouth in there, how the hell are they going to understand anything without you?"

"You have to explain everything to him on beforehand," Mustang informed, hearing himself and how pointless it sounded. It was no guarantee that the spokesman would even believe a single word of Edward's story.

A huge Gate between two parallel worlds? It was ridiculous.

"In that case I'm better off without any spokesman at all," Edward reasoned. "I don't want to tell them anything about that. Why can't I just speak for myself?"

"Because you already had your chance to do that, but you ran away from it," Mustang replied, a little harsher than he meant. "That's the rules."

Edward fell silent and looked away. There was a small awkward silence between them. Then the blond sighed deeply. "Fine. If you're done now, just go and leave me alone."

Mustang gritted his teeth. He hated whenever Edward turned around and suddenly became like that towards him. He was about to reply, but Edward shot him a dangerous look which only the Fullmetal Alchemist was able to perform. "Colonel," he said. "I can't promise you that I won't break some more rules in the near future."

Roy stopped what he was about to say, instead relaxing his tensed jaw and sighed. Then he abruptly stepped forward towards the blond, and pulled the surprised young man close to him. Held him tightly against his chest.

Edward wriggled a little awkwardly, not really sure where to keep his cuffed hands, but Roy took no notice of it. Edward's hair was loose. He let his hand stroke slowly and gently through it, letting some of the silky golden locks slide between his fingers.

At some point Edward started to relax and buried his face into his uniform.

"There's something else I wanted to speak with you about," Mustang said silently.

"Shoot," Edward muttered.

"How did you figure out about Thomas Peterson?"

Edward tensed in his arms, but he didn't let the blond go. Then the blond chuckled a little and shrugged. "He practically gave himself away. He admitted it to me. I figure Al told you."

"Yes, he did. We can use this somehow," Mustang mumbled into his hair. "I'll figure out something." He let his hand caress down to Edward's neck, over his shoulders, feeling the stiff muscles. He couldn't leave this place without leaving any traces of hope in Edward's mind at all. That would've been cruel.

"Your shoulders are stiff," he observed. He started rubbing more firmly and push against the hard knots.

Edward immediately relaxed more, almost leaning into the touches. "I guess," he mumbled.

"Lie down." Mustang let go of him, waiting for Edward to do what he said.

Edward became suddenly more aware, and his eyes went back on alert. Like they always were. "Roy..." he said, not moving an inch. "What are you doing?"

"Just do as I say," Mustang said.

Edward looked away again, his brows furrowed. "First, I have to know if..."

Mustang understood. He knew exactly what Edward meant. "I'm sorry," he said, and really was. "I crossed the line before, when you came to my house that night. But then you spoke his name in your sleep, and then I realized that you truly love him."

Edward stared bluntly and slightly horrified at him for a moment, but then looked away again without a word.

"I know I'm not the person you want to share your life with," Mustang continued. "I simply want to make you feel better by giving you a small massage," he offered kindly.

Edward snorted through a small smile, and then stepped to his mattress. He slumped down on his stomach with his arms stretched out in front of him above his head. "Then get started already," he said roused.

Mustang smirked and sat down beside him, starting to work slowly, but firmly, on Edward's sore muscles.

"You know..." Edward mumbled.

"What?"

"I wanted to ask you something..."

"What?" he repeated.

"I'm... I'm kind of..." Edward started, "worried for Al and..."

"Al's fine," Mustang informed. "He's living at Hawkeye's place for a couple of days, so he's being taken care of," he assured.

"That's good. And Alfons... where is he now?"

"He was going to a meeting with Kiehle."

Edward gritted his teeth. "Could you please... try transferring him back to you?"

Mustang was silent for a while, working hard with his palms on a certain place below Edward's shoulder blades, and Edward made a small groan.

"Yes, of course," Mustang said. "I'll try. But I can't promise anything."

"I don't want him around that bastard..." Edward mumbled.

"I know." He understood that this was important to Edward, and of course the blond alchemist trusted him over Carl R. Kiehle. The fact that Kiehle probably wanted to use the boy to get a promotion was one thing, and Mustang actually felt a small worry for Alfons himself. He didn't want anything bad happening to him, but neither did he want to tell Edward about his concern. Mustang would deal with it on his own accord if necessary.

"I still have something important I want to discuss with you, Alfons, so let's take our leave as well."

"Yes, sir."

"Please come with me to my office."

Alfons followed the Brigadier General down another hall, thinking that this perhaps would consider some sort of formal routine. He had just been let out of prison, after all. He wondered faintly if he was getting a bad record in this world, but guessed it didn't really matter. Everything seemed so entirely hopeless already, and Edward's hearing hadn't even started yet.

Carl R. Kiehle opened the door to his office after walking an eternal distance through all kinds of halls and riding five floors up in the elevator.

"Come in," he offered, and closed the door as the teen entered inside his office. Alfons didn't think the office looked so different from Mustang's. The main difference was that he was one floor higher in the Central Headquarters-building.

"Please, sit down, Alfons," Kiehle said while walking to his desk. "I would usually offer you a cup of tea, but I'm afraid that my secretary has gone home already. I didn't realize it was this late."

"No problem," Alfons said slightly puzzled by the politeness.

The Brigadier General gestured towards a chair in front of his desk. Alfons scowled a little at the chair. Had he already expected him to be let free and come here?

He sat down on the chair with an apprehensive feeling lurking in the pit of his stomach. He kept quiet while resting his hands in his lap and waited for the man to let him know why he was here, because he didn't have a clue anymore. On the other hand, he didn't have any other places to go since he was temporarily this man's subordinate so he was supposed to be under Kiehle during regular work hours anyway. But then again, if it was so late, it wasn't regular work hours anymore either. Alfons didn't know what time it was.

Kiehle sat down in his own chair, adjusting some papers on his desk, picking up a pencil, and in general taking his time. Alfons was almost relieved when he finally started speaking. Maybe he would be allowed to go and get some sleep soon.

"I'll be quite honest with you, Alfons," the older man said. "From the first moment I saw you, I understood that you are a quite extraordinary and talented young man."

Alfons stared bluntly at him, in shock. Getting buttered up like this was the last thing he had expected.

"Therefore, as your commanding officer I will make sure you'll be up against challenging and appropriate tasks where you will be able to use those talents. How does that sound to you?"

"Fine, I guess," Alfons replied unsurely, trying not to sound as dull as he felt. How could he think about work now? If all this was about work, he'd rather leave. Edward was locked away in some God forsaken place, and he was here and not able to do anything about it. The last thing he wanted to do was get prepared for normal routines again.

"That's good, you're exactly the kind of man this country needs," Kiehle said. Alfons felt a slight déjà vu, from once upon a time in Munich, Germany, where he had been told almost the same by Thule Society.

Kiehle picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it over to Alfons, who a little unwilling to accepted it. His blue eyes danced over the sheet, examining it more and more carefully. He almost immediately recognized it. This sketch belonged to Edward. It was a page from the manual he had created for building Azure. Alfons slowly lifted his gaze from the sketch back to Kiehle. "You want me to build another flying machine for you?"

Kiehle nodded with a smile. "Yes."

Alfons felt disgusted, and didn't even care if it showed on his face. Even if Edward had been safe, he wasn't sure if he had wanted to do it anymore.

"Eventually," Kiehle added, not seeming to notice. "Naturally I will need to hire some alchemists to assist you."

Alfons scowled. Was he really serious? "What about Edward?" he asked perturbed. "This is his work, not mine."

"Nonsense, this is your work too. And he can join the team of course," Kiehle said, waving a hand. "Depending on the circumstances, of course."

You mean, depending on if he's getting executed or not... Alfons thought darkly.

"I'm sure everything will turn out well in the end," Kiehle continued with a smile. "What do you think? This is why you are here, isn't it, Alfons? To do great things for our country?"

Well no, that wasn't exactly it. Alfons took a deep breath, suddenly remembering how much he had actually liked working with Azure. And after doing it once, he even had ideas to make the beta-project a better one. A better prototype. A better plane. And it would still be used to stand up against Thule Society, so he couldn't actually refuse either. No matter what happened, Thule Society had to be stopped.

"Your payment will be even higher than it has been until now," Kiehle added.

Alfons felt that he was supposed to be impressed, but he didn't even have a clue on how much he had earned on the last project yet. His eyes graced over the sketch again. Over Edward's appalling handwriting. It made him miss him even more. "For how long are you expecting me to... work with this?" Alfons asked carefully. "My contract lasts only five more months." Hopefully that would be enough.

Kiehle smiled at him. "Actually, I have something more in store for you."

In store... for me? Something about this didn't smell too good. Or was it just that Alfons had a hard time trusting this man? With good reasons. He took a breath. "My allegiance to you is... only temporary," he said carefully. "I will go back to be under Mus-"

"Oh yes, about that," Kiehle interrupted him. "The Fuhrer has decided that you will remain under my command as long as your present contract lasts," he informed, a little too cheerfully for Alfons' taste.

Alfons swallowed, feeling suddenly anxious. Would he be stuck with this guy for the next half year, no matter what?

"It's because of the project I will be in charge of, of course," the Brigadier General explained.

"I understand, but-" Alfons started hesitantly, unsure what to say but not liking this for even a tiny bit.

"As I said, I have big plans for you which I think might fit your interests, Alfons." Kiehle's smile never faded. "But there's one condition to all this, of course."

Alfons wasn't sure about this at all. He felt a red alarming warning lamp blinking somewhere far back in his mind.

Kiehle shoved another sheet of paper across the desk towards him. "I wish that you sign a new two-year-contract, a plain precaution for avoiding a shortage of time before a good result comes out of it."

Alfons' heart jumped right up in his throat. "Two years?" he burst out, rising abruptly from his chair. "Are you-?" He cut himself off, before he managed to yell out something he certainly would've regretted afterwards.

"After the first five months your payment will get increased even further, and I will personally provide you with anything you might need," Kiehle said. "Just name it, whatever it may be. I can fix that for you sooner than you can say yes, sir." Kiehle smiled even wider, his lips splitting into a grin. "It's an offer you simply can't refuse."

Alfons mentally scuffled, confused and troubled. What would all this do for this man? He would probably get promotions if he could provide more airplanes for the military. That was obvious, Alfons guessed. But he couldn't help sensing that there was something more to all of this.

He backed up. "I can't do it," he said in a low voice. It probably would have been okay if he had had a guarantee that Edward would be able to be together with him on this. But nothing was certain until tomorrow. And it was no secret that Alfons disliked this man to the extent that even enduring the thought of working under him would be a painful one. Not to mention working under him for two years.

"Why can't you?" Carl R. Kiehle asked.

"I-It's not an easy decision," Alfons blurted, trying to think of proper excuses but didn't quite succeed. "I can still manage to achieve something in five months," he offered. "But that's all. I'm... Right now I'm worried for Edward, and..."

Kiehle's smile had disappeared as he observed him carefully as he spoke. Then he finally said: "Yes, I understand that, Alfons. He is close to you, isn't he?"

Alfons tried to pretend that he didn't get even more startled by those words, feeling his heart racing faster and faster. "Yes... he's a dear friend to me."

Kiehle's smile returned in his features. "In that case, I'll let you wait with your final decision until tomorrow, after the hearing is set."

Alfons just nodded, pleased with anything that might terminate this meeting. "Fine. Thank you, sir," he said fast.

"Not at all," Kiehle said, noticing Alfons' obvious will to get the hell out of there. "You're dismissed. Get some proper rest." Kiehle rose from his chair, following him to the door with a hand resting almost gently on his shoulder. Alfons walked silently beside him, still feeling uncomfortable.

Something nagged the back of his mind. Something bad. Extremely bad. There was something about this meeting he had missed, but he couldn't figure out exactly what it could be.

He finally returned to his and Edward's old dorm room. It felt like it had been an incredibly long time since he had been there, which it probably was. He didn't know how many days it had been since he and Edward ran away. The room was almost exactly the way they had left it. It was a little tidier. The military had probably gone through their remaining stuff, but that didn't matter. He let himself fall heavily down on his bed. It felt good, just lying there with all his clothes on. But after some thought, he stood up and provided himself with a hot shower, since he hadn't been able to do that for a while and at the same time feeling bad because Edward had probably not been offered any similar luxury.

Lying down on his bed again, he closed his eyes, feeling how tired he actually was. But still, he couldn't sleep no matter how much he tried. His mind spun around everything that had happened lately, without really coming to a solid point of view.

Alfons stood up from bed again, went across the small room to Edward's bed and curled up underneath Edward's covers. It still smelled faintly of Edward. He breathed in the scent and finally he was able to fall into an uneasy slumber. Until tomorrow it was probably the best he could do without losing his mind.