I'm so happy for all the reviews the first chapter hauled in! I hope the 2nd chapter will live up to it.

What intrigued me the most is how some of you mentioned music you listen to and associate with this story. Music has always been the main source of inspiration to me. This story has been written while listening to soundtracks like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Wolf's Rain. Calm, emotional, ominous tracks. If you listen to something particular while reading, please share it with me. :)

Aevium is still the beta-reader of this story and the very reason for this story's content! Every scrap, word and moment of this story is dedicated to her for being an awesome friend and supporter.

Thank you all!

CHAPTER 2: STRANGERS

Al pretended to be asleep until the breaths of the stranger he shared the bedroom with finally deepened and soothed out. Subsequently he turned away from the wall and stared up in the ceiling, eyes wide open and feeling immediately embittered. Hadn't it been for this look-alike stranger he would've been together with his brother now. Everything would have been a bit easier if he could just remember everything that had happened recently. He knew that his brother had been through a lot of stress with the military, partly because the terrorist organization had set him up.

Al figured the Gate must have removed pieces of his memory, leaving his mind like an unsorted map of images and his memories full of holes. Too many things ran through his mind so he would never be able to sleep, let alone rest.

Why had the stranger acted like that anyway? He cried like a weakling, like he had the right to be that upset! If someone should be upset it would be Al. He had not asked to come to this place, that he was certain of. Why couldn't he and Edward have stayed in their own world? He wished he could remember that part...

Why had Edward let him go alone to this alien world with that person?

He wouldn't say he wasn't used to having lost his big brother. But he was also used to missing him dearly.

"You're alone again, aren't you, kiddo?"

Al's scowled a bit, uncertain if the words had been in his mind or not. But then he suddenly felt another unexpected... presence. His eyes widened and he sat up in bed in one abrupt move. That voice... He was certain the words had been said. Where had it come from? There was something disturbingly familiar with it. His fingers clutched around the edge of the quilt a bit tighter as he scanned the dim room, feeling slightly anxious.

"Don't be afraid." An image of a man emerged by the foot of his bed as he sat down with his back resting against the wall, and one knee up to rest his elbow on.

Al rubbed his eyes a bit. Was he imagining things? Was he dreaming? But no matter how much he rubbed and pinched himself, the man didn't disappear. Al swallowed thickly, and his eyes scanned the room again, until they fixed on the stranger in the other bed.

"He's asleep," Schiller confirmed.

Al turned back to the man again, taking a deep breath. He was staring at the very same man that had held him a prisoner when Thule Society terrorized Amestris. Despite having been a prisoner, Al had somehow created a strong bond to the man. Schiller had died during the time Edward came to rescue him.

"Mr. Schiller... what are you doing here?" His voice was a small shaky whisper. "How is this even possible? You can't be... real."

Schiller scoffed softly. "I am dead. But my soul connected to you and transferred a part of my consciousness into yours while you were inside the Gate, and I followed you here to this world."

Al let out a short gasp. "Connected to me, how?"

"You have a strong soul," Schiller said. "I felt it when you did alchemy inside the Gate and I recognized your pure soul. It was your soul that changed mine. That's why I followed you and ended up here beside you."

Al stared at him in disbelief. "I'm not crazy, am I? Am I seeing ghosts?"

"Perhaps I'm a kind of ghost," Schiller admitted. "You're probably the only one who is able to see and hear me. Besides, I only managed to come to the surface of your soul because you were feeling troubled."

"You bet I am..." Al muttered, tiredly rubbing his forehead. This was insane. "Does this mean... You've become a second soul inside my body?"

Schiller shrugged. "I'm a part of you. It wasn't my intention to follow you this far. I'm afraid I won't be able to leave for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"My soul isn't a part of your body, but perhaps a small part of your soul. You'll always still be you, but I won't be able to rest before you do."

Al's eyes widened. "You mean, your soul will die with me." He made sure to speak in a low voice so he wouldn't wake up the other.

"I think so."

Al didn't know what to believe. "But... what do you want? Maybe I can make alchemy work and bring you to rest?"

Schiller closed his eyes with a small smile and rested his head back against the wall. "That would endanger you, wouldn't it?"

Al stammered.

"Don't think of me, kiddo," Schiller said and fixed his steel eyes on him again. "I will not bother you if you don't want me here."

"No, that's not it," Al said fast. "I was just... surprised of course. I didn't know this was even possible. But when that is said, I'm kind of happy I'm able to talk to you again. I... I was sad when I heard you had died."

"Why?" Schiller asked. "You were supposed to be glad after what I did to you."

As a response to the images of cold stone walls and chains, along with the torturing pain came to the surface of Al's mind, and he shivered.

"You weren't like the others," Al said. "You would've helped me sooner if you could have."

Schiller stared at him in quiet amusement. "I could never forget the warmth of your heart."

Al smiled timidly. "I never got to thank you for what you did. You let my brother escape, and then..." He couldn't say it out loud.

"I killed myself," Schiller said.

Al shuddered. "To save us."

"I don't regret it." Schiller nodded to himself. "The reason I'm here is that something has troubled your soul. Tell me what it is."

Al bowed his head. "Everything is ruined..."

"You're brother didn't make it, did he?" Schiller always understood so much.

Al brought his knees up to his chest and hugged around them. "No. He sacrificed himself for a complete stranger..."

"I don't think he's a stranger to your brother," Schiller interpreted.

"Perhaps not... But, why did this have to happen? I can't live here like this. What should I do?"

"Have you gotten a chance to see this world yet?" Schiller asked softly. "Or even Munich?"

"No," Al confessed.

"You might like it. And maybe your brother will find a way. Your brother is strong."

"Everyone who doesn't know what really happened says that," Al muttered. "I don't know exactly what happened either... but that stranger does. And he doesn't seem to believe at all that my brother will ever be back."

"Then, why don't you ask him?" Schiller suggested.

Al fell silent for a while and his eyes narrowed before he spoke again. "He's an idiot... I'll figure out a way to get my brother back on my own." Then he lightened up slightly. "Since you've somehow become a part of me... do you happen to know anything about my lost memories?"

The dark-haired man shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, kiddo. You have to figure that one out on your own."

Al sighed. "I thought you might say that."

"You should be sleeping, kiddo," Schiller said.

"I'm really awake still, aren't I?" Al had still trouble accepting this, he didn't believe in ghosts, but somehow it didn't bother him as much as it should have. It was like Schiller's ghost was here to look after him in his brother's place.

Schiller stood up from his bed. The weight on his bed didn't even shift when the man moved, like he was weightless. He stepped beside Al, his hand lifted and lightly ruffled his hair. "Lie down."

Al obliged slowly and let the man tuck him into the warm covers.

"Close your eyes."

Al did, and felt immediately drowsier. When he dared open his eyes again, the man was gone.

He must have dozed off eventually, because the next thing he knew there was a pale glow of thin sunlight streaming through the split of the curtains, and he heard the shifting sounds of someone stepping out of bed across the room. As the stranger's footsteps headed quietly out of the bedroom, Al kept his eyes closed and laid still. He was still not much in the mood to face the person who had cost him his brother in exchange.

When he was gone, Al sat up slowly and put his feet on the chilly floor. His stomach complained slightly as he moved, and he realized how long it had been since had eaten anything.

As he stepped out of the bedroom he heard quiet voices and the clanking of dishes downstairs. It seemed like Vato Falman had already awakened as well. Alphonse went slowly down the creaky old staircase and hesitated a moment before entering the kitchen. It had turned quiet, but then he heard Falman's inviting voice.

"Please come in and join us, Alphonse."

Al obliged and conquered the last steps into the kitchen, seeing his bleary-eyed look-alike sitting by the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him and Vato Falman standing by the stove.

"Just sit down. Do you like eggs? Coffee?"

"Yes, please." It was the first thing he had even said to the man. He couldn't believe his own rudeness from last night. Usually he didn't even drink much coffee, but right now he felt like he needed some anyway. He felt awfully ashamed of his behaviour and wanted to apologize. But he didn't really know how to. He didn't want to apologize about everything, he had the right to be upset. His brother was missing, but who was trying to get him back? No one.

Al immediately noted how his look-alike averted from any kind of eye contact with him as he slipped down on a chair by the table. Falman handed him a cup of coffee and Al got distracted by observing the content of it.

The atmosphere was obviously unpleasant, and Falman stared perplexed from one to another, scratching his temple. "You had us all wondering," he started, addressing Alfons. "One day you were happily working and making progress on our new project, and the next you suddenly disappeared. We got worried that something terrible had happened."

"Kind of," Alfons murmured. "Both terrible and wonderful things happened. But we got by... as long as it lasted."

"We figured you both had gone after Thule Society," Falman said, leaning against the counter and crossed his arms. "I could rest peacefully with that solution in mind. They would probably make trouble wherever they were, and someone had to do something."

"We got some help from the military in the other world," Alfons told him. "In the end we managed to prevent a great disaster in Edward's world." Even if it sounded like good news, the words sounded like someone had died.

Which was pretty much true.

"Sounds like a lot was going on," Falman added. "Hughes and I both agreed that it would be better if more people didn't figure out where you both had gone. So we made up a story that the organization was on the loose and had kidnapped you. Which they did in the first place, if I've understood correctly."

"When all of this started, yes," Alfons confirmed, shuddering from the unpleasant memories. "So, they've been looking for us in the wrong places?"

"Yeah," Falman said. "It has been hard for Hughes, who had to lie about the truth. But it was more important to keep the Gate a secret. We couldn't risk sending more people through."And if someone from Thule Society showed up again, they would've been caught and brought in."

"I'm glad you didn't send people into the Gate after us," Alfons said. "It would've complicated things more than they already were. I was surprised to see the automobile sitting there still though."

"Yes, we let it be. We thought you might need it if you ever came back." He smiled.

"Thanks." Alfons sipped at his coffee. Still, a couple of things were bothering him. "No one is monitoring the place, right?"

"Not that I know of," Falman said. "Why?"

"There was a guy who watched us arrive here last night," Alfons replied in a low voice. "It gave me a creepy feeling."

"What about if my brother comes back at the same place?" Al said, finally opening his mouth into the conversation for the first time, drawing both of the men's attention to him. "No one would know that he has returned, and he'd be all alone in the cold. He might die." His hands were tightening around the coffee cup, which he had yet to drink.

Alfons looked uncomfortable and Falman nodded.

"That's true," the older man said. "We might have to send people out to guard the building in case that happens."

"There's no building anymore," Alfons managed thickly.

"What?" Falman frowned.

"The building is gone," he elaborated. "I think it happened when we came back. I remember Edward had a theory that the Gate would annihilate everything close to it before it's..." he paused to take a deep breath, "...destroyed."

"So," Falman said slowly, "you say that the Gate is gone?"

Alfons returned a brisk nod, and Al scowled at them both.

"Even if it's not there anymore, that doesn't mean that my brother can't open it again," Al said pointedly. "He'll do anything to get back!"

Alfons hated himself for not having a suitable answer to come with. How could Al be so sure? Probably because he hadn't seen the look on Edward's face, the resignation in his eyes, as he said: Don't try to get me back.

"I will talk to Hughes about this," Falman said and when Alfons looked unsure of the suggestion, he added: "With certainty that the truth will stay between him and us. The most important thing is that Edward will be taken care of if he should arrive here."

Al looked a bit more pleased by that, so Alfons nodded. "Of course."

"In the meantime, what will you do?" Falman asked, as he served them each plate with toast and eggs.

"There's not much of a choice," Alfons said. "We have to move on."

Al sent him a suspicious scowl before becoming busy in devouring his food. It tasted really good, and his stomach made a grateful worshipping motion towards the cook.

"You're welcome back on our old team," Falman said with a smile.

Alfons actually lightened up a little. He wouldn't ever take that opportunity for granted. The cost of workers and keeping the projects in that business running was sky high. "I really appreciate that. Thank you."

"You didn't think we wouldn't want you back, did you?" Falman chuckled merrily.

Alfons smiled weakly back and hardly noticed that it became fairly difficult to swallow again. "I'll find a new flat to rent as well, and then we'll manage somehow."

Al frowned at the context of that sentence. "Are we going to...?" ... live together?

Alfons returned the frown. "Where else would you live? At an orphanage?" He almost regretted saying it the moment after he did, but to his surprise Al kept quiet at that and continued eating slowly with his eyes deeply focused on his plate. Alfons sustained in a slightly softer tone. "We'll figure it out... We'll find a good school for you and... then you'll be fit to manage on your own eventually."

Al scowled back up at him again. He didn't really mind the thought of going to school, but talking about those kinds of things now already? And why was he always talking like Edward would never come back?

"Eventually will be when I have my brother back, thanks," Al returned frostily. And we'll manage perfectly well without you.

Alfons' lips tightened, but kept quiet at that and continued eating. Even if he didn't really feel like eating much anymore. All this was almost too much already.

Falman stared helplessly from one to another, seeming out of ideas to lighten up the mood by the kitchen table. "I'll go call Hughes right away and ask him to come over." He stepped out of the kitchen and made sure he wouldn't be in immediate hearing distance of the two young boys. Maybe they could sort everything out easier if he wasn't there?

Alfons wiped his lips with his palm, took a deep breath and fixed his eyes back on Alphonse again. It was hard to imagine that everything he had worked out with Al in the past was now gone, and that he had to start completely anew with circumstances even worse than last time. Last time Edward had at least been there. Al hadn't liked him very much in the beginning at that time either, but it had been Edward who had coaxed him in the right direction. Now Alfons had to do everything on his own, and he didn't know if he could. How could he possibly restore a friendship that didn't even exist anymore? Neither did he want to break off his bond to Al and simply leave him with someone else to take care of him... He couldn't do that. He had promised...

"Alphonse," he said, drawing the other one's attention and decided he might as well lay down completely flat. "I'm really sorry for everything. I'm sorry that your brother is gone, that you're stuck here with me, far away from your own world. I wish there was something I could do to change this situation, but I'm afraid there isn't. At least not right now." He sighed deeply. "I'm fairly sure Edward felt pretty much the same as you when he was in your shoes over two years ago."

Al had been about to reply with a strong voice after his first sentence, but as soon as Edward's name was mentioned, his jaw went slack and his lips closed shut. Instead he seemed to anticipate the next thing Alfons was about to say, so Alfons continued.

"I'll try to explain everything, if you'll let me. How I met Edward and how I met you."

Al nodded slowly. Fair enough.

Alfons started off slowly from the beginning. "When I first met him he was lost and miserable and he never committed himself to other people, since he was always determined to find a way to go back. That led him to know me, because he believed that he could use rocket science to get closer to his own world. Of course, no one would believe him if he told them where he was from, but despite that he told me. After some time, I started to believe him even if the truth went against almost every significant knowledge of science in this world. Later we travelled through the Gate together, as you already know, and Edward was set upon meeting up with you again."

Al knew the next part of the story. "When he got back... I wasn't there." He still regretted that, his stupidity and naivety at that time. He had been captured by Thule Society, and Edward had gone to rescue him.

Alfons nodded slowly. "After we found you," he continued, "that was the first time you met me."

Al wrung his brain, and his mind successfully found the bits of the moment he could still remember. There was a beach and his big brother lay in the wet sand, unconscious. Bits and pieces of the moment were missing, and Al sat for a long time, staring idly out in space while trying to sort the bits like a jigsaw puzzle. At some point he had made a dehydrating array to dry his brother's wet clothes, he remembered that clearly. But he was pretty sure he had used it more than once at that time, not only drying Edward's clothes, but also someone else's other than himself.

His eyes fixed upon the stranger again. His mind was screaming at him that there was something essentially important missing from his memories considering this person, and that he was somehow supposed to remember him.

"You were there," Al whispered. "But I can't see you."

And it seemed like it happened so long ago. It was from that very moment the holes in his memories started. From the moment he met this stranger. Could it be that there was only memories considering this person he was missing out on?

Alfons smiled timidly. So it was really only him Al didn't remember. He seemed to still have memories from his previous time with his brother. "I guess... we simply have to start all over again," he said.

Al's shoulders sank a bit, before agreeing. This person had known his brother, after all. "You already know so much about me, but I don't even know your name."

Alfons wanted to hit himself. He hadn't even thought of that. He really wished he had tried to speak with Al sooner. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm Alfons Heiderich." He stretched his hand across the table, his palm open and inviting Al to take it.

Al lifted his hand slowly and accepted the hand. "Most people call me Al." Then he added in a mutter. "As you probably already know."

Alfons chuckled softly. "Yeah..." He felt slightly better now that Al was actually talking to him and didn't constantly blame him for Edward's d... (he didn't want to think death!) disappearance.

A silence fell over them again, but not as uncomfortable as before. Not long after, Falman returned into the kitchen.

"I spoke to Officer Hughes," he informed. "He's on his way here."

"Hughes," Al repeated anticipating. "I think I knew his parallel person."

Alfons nodded. "You did." He knew because the Maes Hughes in the other world had written a certain report which had saved him from a certain cruel commanding officer. "He's a police officer here." Speaking like that didn't even seem strange to him anymore. Being back here now, everything about two worlds was so natural, and he understood how Edward must have felt being in a world where nothing of the sort existed. There hadn't been much more tolerance of the prospect in Amestris, but at least most people had believed it could be possible.

"Thank you for the breakfast," Al said politely to Falman.

"You're welcome, lad," Falman replied with a humble chuckle. It looked like the two had talked a bit and the atmosphere in the kitchen had lightened considerably while he had been gone. He was relieved of that. "I'll put on some more coffee," he proffered.

Alfons helped clearing off the table as the doorbell rang a short while later. He felt an anticipating curl inside his stomach at the thought of meeting Officer Maes Hughes again. Hadn't it been for him, he probably wouldn't have lived long enough to wake up again at the hospital at the time he was shot. He had heard the story from Edward, that Hughes had saved them and shot General Hess before the General had killed them, driven mad by Dietlinde Eckart's betrayal.

Falman had gone to answer the door, and came back followed by the Officer with his police hat underneath his arm. His expecting eyes landed amusedly on Alfons and then Alphonse.

"I honestly thought the old man was joking," he chuckled. "How are you, Alfons? It's nice to see you again."

Alfons couldn't possibly get himself to say that he was fine. He stepped to meet the Officer's outstretched hand to shake it. "I'm holding up," he said and made an attempt to smile.

"And who might this be?" Hughes said, turning to Al. "I didn't know you had a little brother."

Al rose slowly from his seat. "I'm not—"

"He's not my brother," Alfons said, before Al said it. "He's Edward's."

"Really? I could have sworn you two look too much alike to not be related," Maes Hughes chuckled. He shook Al's hand as well. "I'm Maes Hughes."

"Alphonse Elric," Al answered.

"So where is your brother Edward hiding?" Maes wanted to know. "He's sure made a lot of trouble, but I'd like to see him again too."

"That's one of the issues here," Falman butted in. "Edward Elric has disappeared on their way back."

Hughes scowled at that. "And it has something to do with that Gate, I reckon?"

Falman nodded.

"The Gate is gone too," Alfons said, rubbing his aching forehead. "Can I ask you something? What day and date is it?"

"It's Saturday," Falman said. "December 8th, 1923."

Alfons scowled forlornly. It felt like it had been forever since he left this world, but it really wasn't. He had disappeared with Edward in the end of October. He had only been gone for a little over a month.

Al rose from the table, his hands pressing a bit tightly against the table flat. "Even if the Gate is gone, my brother isn't." His eyes fixed upon the Officer. "Can you help us keep an eye on the place where the Gate used to be?"

"You think he'll show up at the same place?" Hughes said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

Al nodded.

"I will see what I can do," the Officer nodded. "In the meantime, what will you guys do?"

Alfons leaned against the counter, his eyes glued at the floor. He didn't really want to do much, but he knew what he had to. "We need to find someplace to live."

Hughes turned to him with his hands on his hips. "That's a logical place to start. Gracia will probably let you have your apartment back, I'm sure."

Alfons stared at him at that in surprise. "What? She hasn't rented it out?"

"Of course not. She expected you to return someday." Hughes grinned. "And you have an awful lot of things stuffed into that place. Besides, Gracia is partly living at my place now. I've asked her to marry me."

Alfons smiled a small smile. He remembered how Edward had always urged Hughes to pop out the question to her. "That's great. Congratulations. I guess I'll go visit her right away."

"Remember, I still think you should get a doctor to look at the both of you," Falman reminded him.

"I'm f..." He changed his mind. "Alright." Alfons stepped away from the counter and continued towards the hall.

"I'll drive you," Hughes offered.

"Thanks." Alfons turned to Al, who had seated himself by the kitchen table again since he didn't seem to know where to be. "Are you coming?"

Al hesitated for a second before he stood up.

"I'll have some dinner ready at four o'clock," Falman said.

Alfons smiled. He was happy he had come to Falman first. He didn't know of anyone who represented a better father than him. "Thank you, sir."

Al trotted after him to the hall without a word.

"It's a short drive to the doctor's office," Hughes said. "If you want, I can take you directly to Gracia afterwards. She works in her flower shop till three o'clock today."

"It's alright," Alfons said. "It isn't far to walk." And he thought he might need some time for him and Al to adjust to each other alone. Especially Al. "Maybe you could call her and tell her we're here so she won't faint." He borrowed a jacket from Falman which was a bit too big for him, but at least it was better than walking around in mainly a thin shirt.

Hughes laughed at what he had said. "She's a strong woman, she can handle it. But I'll call her anyway. I can never get enough of her sweet voice!"

Alfons got into the auto in the passenger seat with an involuntary sigh. He missed the sound of Edward's voice too. The thought that he would never hear it again reminded him of how depressed he was. Real depression for him was not really sobbing and crying and feeling pity in himself. It was rather the entire reduction of feelings. Like he was declining what he was supposed to be feeling, only that he didn't know what he was supposed to feel. How was he supposed to comprehend anything?

If Al hadn't been there, he might have been even more clueless. At least he could concentrate on Al. Al needed someone who could help him manage and fit into this world.

Or, was it that he needed Al more than Al needed him?

Alfons was silent all the way to the doctor's office. Hughes had been caught into a more cheery conversation with Alphonse. At least Hughes was cheery.

"If you need anything, Gracia and I will help you, just name it," he said. "Why don't you two spend Christmas with us? Gracia would be thrilled!"

"That sounds nice," Al said feebly.

Alfons stared apathetically out the window. He had spent one Christmas with Edward once before. The university had been closed during the holidays, and none of them had had any particular place to go. He couldn't afford going home to Germany for only ten days, and neither did Edward. Though, Van Hohenheim had rented a small apartment in Romania for them and they had spent the Christmas there, only the two of them. It had been long before their relationship had developed into something more than friendship, but it had been some of the happiest days of his life. It had been before he knew about the consumption, Thule Society or the Gate. It had been only him and Edward.

Even with Al here with him, he felt so ridiculously alone.

Alfons touched his own chest by the thought of the consumption. He knew the illness was still gone from his body, like it had been in Amestris. He could breathe just fine, and his lungs didn't hurt. It was almost too good to be true. Before Munich had been all about the rocket, Edward and the consumption. That had been his very life. It was odd being here without it, to know that he could continue his work in his own world, free of the illness and the claws of death stretching after him wherever he went.

Still, that was not nearly enough. Alfons would have traded his health to get Edward back any day.

"Here we are," Hughes announced. "Will you be alright, or do you want me to come with you?"

"No, this is fine," Alfons replied. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem!" Hughes returned with a smile. "I'll probably see you over at Gracia's. You'll stop by there later, right?"

"Yeah," Alfons said, forcing another smile and stepping out of the auto. For a moment he thought Al looked about as reluctant of coming with him as he did last night, but then he stepped out of the auto as well.

"Goodbye, sir," he said politely.

"Just call me Maes, kid," Hughes replied and waved. "See you!"

Alfons and Al saw the automobile disappear around the corner of the street where they were left on the sidewalk. The doctor's office was just a few blocks away and Alfons turned to the younger. "Let's go have your check-up then."

Al followed indisposed after him. "I don't really need it, I'm not hurt."

"It's just to be safe," Alfons replied. "Your brother would've insisted on it too." He had said it even before thinking.

Al frowned up at him. "How come you know my brother so well?"

Alfons swallowed. "Haven't I told you that already? We were good friends, and we lived together for a long time." God, he didn't want to tell Al about the relationship he had had with his brother. He hadn't taken it very easy the first time.

Al went silent again and they reached the entrance to the doctor's office. Inside were chairs with awaiting patients and a couple of kids playing in a corner for children. Alfons stepped over to the reception desk with Al following slowly after.

"Hello, how can I help you?" the lady asked kindly.

Alfons gestured at Al. "He needs a check-up."

She smiled at them both. "Aw, what a cute little brother you have. What's your name?" she asked Alphonse, who seemed more and more reluctant to be there.

"Alphonse Elric," he muttered.

"Alright," she said and jotted something down into a form. "Your date of birth?"

"April fifteenth, nineteen hu—"

"Nineteen ten," Alfons hurriedly interrupted him and received an annoyed and questioning look from the younger.

The woman stared at them for a moment, before continuing filling out the form. "Alright. Just sit down and I'll call your name when it's your turn."

Good thing he had remembered in time that the world's year count was different by six years. In the other world Al was born in 1900, but in this world it would be 1910, considering his current body's age.

"Why did you tell her that?" Alphonse wanted to know as they found a couple of available seats.

"The year is 1923 here," Alfons said. Soon 1924. He didn't have to elaborate. Alphonse came to a silent understanding. His appearance was his early teens, whether he liked it or not.

They were silent as they waited, and Al's leg started swinging impatiently back and forth, like a small boy would do when he was bored. Alfons figured he wasn't actually the best company right now, and neither did he have much to talk to Al about – at least not here in front of other people's ears. But he wished he could stop Al's leg from swinging like that. It made him restless as well. His eyes fell on a stand with magazines and newspapers. Maybe he could find something for Al to read.

He stood up and stepped over to the stand, wondering what would possibly interest Al that didn't have anything to do with alchemy. He picked out one called Illustrated Inventions of Science and a newspaper for himself. He hadn't read a single newspaper since the last time he was in Munich.

He went back to Al and handed him the magazine. "Here, you can read this while we wait."

Al accepted the magazine slowly. "What is it?"

"It's about different sciences and inventions of this world," Alfons replied, making sure to speak low so only Al would hear. "This world has more of those things since alchemy isn't known here."

"Oh." Al stared at the photograph on the front. He looked a bit curious at least, Alfons concluded, and felt relieved that his plan had worked and had gotten Al to concentrate on other things than being bored.

A while later he had scanned through the most important headlines of his newspaper without finding anything interesting, and his eyes landed back on Al for a moment. The younger boy looked totally absorbed in what he was reading, and didn't miss out on a single article on each page.

Around them people were chatting in low voices, but Alfons noted how comfortable he was around German again. He hadn't really thought about it until now, but he had gone back to speaking German, and Al was speaking it too. It was different from the time in the other world where he had suddenly spoke Amestrian one moment and confusedly started speaking German the next. Al had simply looked at him funny.

Alfons smiled inwardly at the thought. Although now Al probably couldn't remember it.

Then the doctor suddenly appeared from a door innermost in the room and called: "Alphonse Elric."

Al was still fully engrossed in reading and didn't seem to have even heard him, and Alfons poked his shoulder to get his attention. "The doctor will see you now."

"Oh." Al didn't look like he wanted to leave the magazine, but unwillingly rose and put it down on his chair.

The doctor smiled at him. "You can call me Dr. Marco. This way, Alphonse."

Al recognized the man immediately and wondered if he would keep seeing these familiar faces every day for the rest if his life. For some reason he felt suddenly a bit nervous and cast a hesitant look back at Alfons Heiderich.

Alfons smiled at him, noticing the sudden uncertainty reflecting in Al's eyes. "It won't take long," he said helpfully. But then he thought better of it. "Uhm, I can come with you if you want."

Al's lips thinned to a straight line and nodded curtly. "If you don't mind."

"Of course not." Feeling lightly surprised that Al actually wanted him to come, Alfons rose too and stepped beside Al over to the doctor.

"It's completely alright if you want your brother to come with you," the doctor said friendly. "Come this way, please."

Al didn't reply and simply followed after the man in the white overcoat. He hardly wanted to admit to himself that he felt a bit less anxious when Alfons Heiderich was with him inside, because what if the doctor asked him something common he couldn't reply? There could be several other things about this world he didn't know about, just like the fact that the year was different from his own.

Doctor Marco led the way down a hall and into an exam room. "Have a seat at the exam table, Alphonse. You can start by removing your coat and your shirt."

Al made his way towards the examination table, looking slightly disgruntled, but didn't complain. The examination table was too high for his feet to reach down to the floor as he settled on top of the edge of it. Then he wrung off his coat and pulled the borrowed shirt over his head.

Alfons sat down in a chair by the wall, quietly turning his attention at the doctor who suddenly addressed him.

"When was the last time your brother had an examination?"

Alfons hesitated. Each and every person they met just assumed that he was Al's big brother. He wondered how Al silently felt about that. He was sure he wouldn't have liked it if he had been Al, but he didn't say anything against it. "It's been a while..." he replied.

"His name wasn't in my records, so I assumed he'd been at a different doctor before," Doctor Marco said.

"Yeah, we just moved here," Alfons said to cover over the subject.

"I see. Well then," Dr. Marco turned to Al. "How do you feel, Alphonse? Any aches or dizziness?"

Al shook his head. "I'm fine, really." He considered telling the doctor about his amnesia, but decided it wouldn't be much point since his memories had been taken by the Gate. There was no way he would get them back anyway.

"That's good, but let's listen to it just to be sure." The doctor sat down on a stool in front of Al and adjusted a stethoscope against his bare chest. "Take some deep breaths for me."

Al shivered a little from the cold flat of the stethoscope and took a couple of breaths.

"That's good," Dr. Marco complimented. "Your heart sounds normal. Now I'll check your blood pressure." He fastened a black cuff around Al's upper arm, and Al felt how it constricted around his arm as he started pumping, then "whooshed" as it released.

"Your blood pressure is normal as well," Dr. Marco announced. "To me it seems that you're completely healthy. Although, I will take a small blood test from you as well."

Al nodded slowly. "Okay." He had an average affinity to needles in contradiction to his brother who despised them like a plague. Most of all he was glad he would be done here soon. Somehow he would soon start to work out a way to get his brother out of the Gate. He just wished he knew more. He doubted there was much information about that stored up somewhere in this world. Although, he would still look.

The doctor dabbed a cotton ball moist with alcohol against the inside of his elbow to clean the skin. "You're not afraid of needles, are you?" the doctor asked conversationally.

"No, that's alright."

"A brave boy, aren't you? Here we go." Dr. Marco slid the needle slowly inside his arm and pulled a generous amount of blood back out, into the tube.

Al looked away. Even if he was fine with needles, blood was something completely different.

"There, all done," the doctor said cheerfully. He tapped a cotton ball over the sting to stop the seeping blood flow, and then turned to Alfons. "The results will be done in about a week. Most likely, he's all good."

"Thank you, doctor," Alfons said.

Al slid down from the examination table and started redressing his shirt. Then he took his red coat under his arm and gave Alfons a look. "Shouldn't you get yourself examined as well?"

Alfons returned an unaffected smile. "There's no need." He wasn't sick anymore, after all.

"If you say so," the doctor beamed.

"Goodbye, sir," Al said.

"Good day, son!"

They went out of the room and Alfons noticed Al's longing eyes in the direction of the magazine he had been reading as they passed by the waiting room. With an inward smile, Alfons turned for the door again and held it up for Al.

"Gracia's flower shop isn't very far from here," he said. "You don't mind walking there, right?"

"No, it's fine," Al said.

"I'm impressed that you're this calm around needles," Alfons said, trying to sound cheerful. "I know how much Edward hated them."

"Hates," Al corrected frostily.

Alfons halted hesitantly. "What?"

"He hates them," Al said. "Not hated."

Alfons slowly continued walking again. "Oh... Right."

There was a knock on the door of his office, barely a few minutes after the two boys had left, and the doctor wondered if one of them had forgotten about something. "Come in," he called.

The door opened, and a man dressed in a white trench coat and a white suit underneath stepped inside. "Hello doctor," the visitor said. He closed the door.

"Hello, and who might you be?" Dr. Marco asked puzzled.

"You're only required to answer my questions, not ask any," the man informed. "I want all the information you have on that boy you just examined."

The doctor frowned. "I'm afraid I don't lend out my patients' information like that."

"Highly regrettable." The visitor pointed a gun at the doctor. "I'm afraid I'll need it, quietly, no matter what cost. If you refuse to cooperate, I will kill someone close to you."

With trembling hands, the doctor waved them in front of himself to calm down the intruder. "I'm sure we can work this out somehow, just put that gun away."

"The data and the blood sample, doctor," the visitor said. "If you please."

"What are we doing here?" Al asked half-heartedly as Alfons stopped by a small shop.

"Just wait here, I'll be right back," Alfons said evenly.

Al was left outside on the sidewalk and stared around at the street they were in. There were a lot of people hasting by, fighting their way through the snow. Most of the city was covered in a thick layer of white, but the sky was clear blue today. Still the temperature was low and his coat was thin. Al tucked his red coat a little tighter around himself and got occupied by staring into the windows of the shop next to the one Alfons had gone into. It was selling all kinds of pipes, tobacco and liquor. It reminded him of Granny Pinako back home, and he immediately missed home. He wondered how Winry was. He hadn't realized it until now; he would actually never see her again.

"Al," a voice said behind him, and he quickly turned away from the window and his thoughts. Alfons smiled softly and handed him a small plastic bag. "Here."

Al accepted it slowly and looked inside. There he found a new copy of the magazine he had fancied at the doctor's office. His lips parted in wonder. "Thank you..."

"No problem," Alfons said. "Let's go and meet up with Gracia."

Al looked back up at him and nodded. "M-m." Even if he didn't know much about this stranger yet, he didn't feel like that much of a stranger anymore now that he knew his name. But it would be even better if Al had known for sure that Alfons Heiderich actually believed that his brother wasn't dead.

Recently he had begun to learn a lot of new things. Not only new things about this world, but also about himself. His brother, Schiller, Alfons Heiderich. They were all important to him in some sort of way. This was only the beginning of a new purpose.

It was merely an instinct, human nature, the need to solve the mysteries of life, even when the simplest questions seldom could be answered. Why was he here?

What was really the soul? Was it something existing in one's mind or one's heart? Was it really something spiritual, something ghost-like, which could be visualized after death?

Where could he go next to find a lead to the last resolve?

Sometimes the questions were equally important as the answers.

Alphonse regarded the bag in his hand with the magazine, realizing that he wanted to know more about this strange, new world. He might not particularly like it, but he wasn't going to let it stop him. Somewhere, there had to be something he could find that had a certain connection to his own world, something he could use to pull his brother out of the Gate.

This was a start.