CHAPTER 3: CONFRONTATION
The streets of Munich were filled with people buying Christmas presents or otherwise simply preparing for the holidays. Alfons had almost forgotten all about those kind of ordinary things and right now, he considered Christmas to be the least important thing in the world and didn't understand why a holiday like that even mattered.
Gracia's flower shop was as always in full bloom even in the middle of December, the area around the entrance decorated with flowers and fir.
Alfons cast a glance up towards the third floor from the outside, at what had once been his and Edward's kitchen window pointing down at the street at the front of the house. It was dark. Maybe he was crazy, but somehow he had a feeling, a faint hope, that Edward would be waiting for them in that apartment. Maybe he had managed to escape the Gate and ended up somewhere else and then found his way back to their old place first?
Edward belonged in this setting too much, so he couldn't help it. The possibility that everything might even be a prank, a setup, was too tempting to consider. What if Edward suddenly jumped out in front of him with a big grin and said: "Sorry, I'm late!"? He'd laugh at his shocked expression and continue with: "Did you actually think I was gone? You're such a stupid moron. So, what did I miss?"
In his mind he was pulling Edward into a kiss and his eyes felt warm when Gracia opened the front door to the shop.
"Alfons!" She greeted them both with a smile. "And hi there, Alphonse. It's very nice to finally meet you."
Al stood a little petrified and stared at her with wide eyes, and Alfons remembered how Edward had done the exact same thing over a year ago when he had first met her. "Hello Gracia, I reckon Hughes has filled you in a bit," he said, getting straight to the point.
"Briefly, yes. I really can't believe you're here," she marvelled and pulled them both into a warm hug. "Please, come in and get warm."
Gracia beckoned the two of them inside in front of her and through the shop until they found themselves in the kitchen of her apartment. There Hughes was sitting as well by the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him and he waved to them with a bright smile.
"Hey kids, how did the meeting with the doctor go?"
Al and Alfons sat down on each side of the table and received a cup of cocoa. "It went fine," Alfons said and gazed in Al's direction. "All healthy."
"That's good," Hughes said pleased.
"Are you two hungry?" Gracia asked. "I'll make you some lunch."
"Maybe yes, thank you." Alfons had barely even heard what she said. His eyes kept directing automatically towards the door leading to the hall, which led to the stairs to the third floor...
Gracia hummed as she made them sandwiches and smiled as Hughes rose to help her set the table. "I really had no idea that Edward had a little brother," she said conversationally. "Were you living back in London while he was working here in Munich?"
Al was uncomfortable. He didn't really know what to say about his brother. Neither did he know much at all about how Edward's life had been in this world. Maybe his brother had never even talked much about him, and why would he? He had been a suit of armour for all Edward knew at the time he was here. "I was..." The sentence trailed off before even half finished.
"Al was living with his grandma far away," Alfons said helpfully.
Hughes gave them both a look, being aware of the real truth, but he understood that they were best to not speak about the other world, after all. The less people knew, the better.
"Oh, and you never came to visit?" Gracia said in light disappointment. "You would've been welcomed here anytime."
"I wanted to," Al said. "But I..." But what, really? I was in another world?
"Oh, that's alright," Gracia said kindly, sensing that the subject was kind of tender. "I'm happy you were finally able to come and visit Germany. I really hope Edward will be back soon as well, and then we'll all have dinner together." She beamed and handed them each a sandwich on plates.
Hearing her speaking like that about Edward made Alfons even feel a stronger hope that he would just turn up out of the blue. His heart beat a little faster. "Why didn't you rent out the apartment again? There was really no telling if we would be back or not."
Gracia took a sip of cocoa and sat down by the table with them. "It didn't feel right. Besides, I wouldn't have had the heart to throw away all your things, so I figured it would be better to leave it as it was and hope you'd be back someday. And, it seems like I was right!"
"Oh." He had almost forgotten. His and Edward's things. Alfons ate silently, but felt like his stomach was full of maggots and could hardly sit still. He wanted to go up there again. At the same time he felt a bit perturbed, almost terrified.
"You're free to move back in whenever you like," Gracia said gently. "It's still your apartment."
Despite the anxiety, Alfons brightened up a little. "Really?"
"Yes, of course," Gracia said.
"I'd like that I guess." He cast a quick look to see how Al was reacting to the prospect, but the younger just sat quietly and obediently ate his sandwich. Alfons didn't want to decide too much though. Al was with him too, and he wanted him to have something to say in the important matters. So he added, "I'll discuss it with Al first."
Al stopped eating and just stared at him, and Gracia nodded and smiled. "Do that. Why don't you go up and have a look when you're done eating." She turned to Al. "I'm sure you're curious to see where your brother lived while he was here."
Al nodded slowly.
When they had finished eating, they both thanked Gracia for the food and Alfons led the way towards the hall. Al followed him quietly, still holding onto the plastic bag with the magazine which he was probably itching to continue reading.
"You're not very talkative lately, are you?" Alfons said when they were alone, heading up the stairs.
Al snorted quietly. "I have a lot on my mind, which you probably understand."
"Of course," Alfons replied sensitively. "I know."
"But," Al continued with a soft smile. "People here are really just as nice as they are at home."
"They are, aren't they," Alfons agreed. He stopped in front of the door to his old apartment, the key ready in hand. "Here it is."
If only Edward was inside, if only Edward would just suddenly pop out as he unlocked the door, if only...
He twisted the key and unlocked the door. With just a moment's hesitation, he entered and turned on the lights in the ceiling. The temperature in the apartment was low and chilly, and the old floorboards creaked a bit beneath his feet.
The place was exactly the way they had left it. The furniture, Edward's papers and stocks of books lying everywhere, the couch where they had made love the last time they were in Munich... Alfons stopped and choked on his own breath.
He found himself completely forgetting about Al for a moment, and stepped hurriedly from room to room. His first stop was the kitchen, then the living room, bathroom, and after that, stepping over the mess of books towards his old bedroom. He lingered in the open doorway for a moment, staring at his deserted bed, before he hurried through the living room again. He hesitated only for a second with his hand stretched towards the knob of Edward's bedroom door, holding his breath, before quickly opening the door and stepping inside the room.
He frowned, confused.
Empty. The entire apartment was empty.
He tried to ignore the growing lump in his chest. Why had he even had hopes that Edward would be here? Was he about to go completely insane?
Al stepped inside the bedroom next to him, his large bronze eyes circulating around the room before they landed on the vacant bed. "He's not here," he whispered.
Alfons turned to him with wide eyes, for a moment feeling completely lost. Maybe Al had had the same thoughts as him, the same feelings, the same fragile hope...
"I'm afraid not," he answered, looking away again.
Al stepped over to Edward's old desk and touched the smooth top. "Is this my brother's room?"
"Yeah," Alfons replied timidly. "We lived here for some months before we left to the other world."
Al walked slowly towards the window, his face getting bathed in streams of bright winter sunlight. The street outside was quiet and peaceful. "This is the first place he'd try to reach once he comes back," Alphonse reasoned. "So, we should stay here."
Alfons took a deep breath. "Alright. If that's what you want."
Al nodded and turned back to him. "I'm sure."
Alfons felt a bit relieved. Finally they agreed on something. He really missed the friendship he used to have with Al, and maybe it wasn't too late to rebuild it after all.
They stepped back into the living room again, and Alfons turned on some heat. Al had already started rummaging through one of the many stocks of books lying about. "What are all these books anyway?" he asked curiously.
Alfons straightened up again and joined his side, picking up a brown hard-covered book and brushed away a thin layer of dust from it. "Actually, Edward inherited most of these books from your father."
Al let out a quiet gasp and stared at him with his large caramel eyes. "My father...?" That's right, his father had lived in this world for a long time too. This clue might be exactly what he needed!
"Yes. After he died, Edward received the automobile we drove here in, these books and some money." Alfons chuckled softly. "We didn't have enough shelf space for everything, so he just kept them in piles all over the place."
Al dropped to the wooden floor, arranging his legs Indian style and opened one of the books eagerly, scanning a random page. Whenever he was reading, it reminded him deeply of Edward, Alfons silently mused.
"Edward read a lot about this world when he came here," he told. "He wanted to learn as much as possible about it."
"Sounds like my brother," Al said. "I'm intending to do the same." He just needed somewhere to begin and this was it.
Alfons' eyes fell on the chest of drawers where he and Edward had stored all kinds of things. He stepped over to it and opened the upper one. There lay a folded map and a small black box. He took both of the two objects out of the drawer and stepped over to Al's side, joining him on the floor. "Let me show you something."
Al looked curiously up from the book while Alfons shoved away some stuff to clear off some space and unfolded the map over the floorboards. The printing showed the familiar oval shape of the world.
Al leaned over and let his eyes dance over the large sheet of paper. "Is this... this world?"
"Yes," Alfons confirmed. "A map of the entire world." He pointed a finger at a spot west of the European continent, at Germany. "This is the country we're in. And here is Munich."
Al scooted closer and looked carefully at all the small names of places he had never once heard of. "None of these places look like my country," he said. "Or my world."
"We're divided by different continents," Alfons explained. "We're in Europe, and then there's Africa below us, and Asia here, Australia and North and South America."
"America?" Al repeated. "Sounds almost like Amestris."
"Edward said that too once," Alfons said.
Amestris had been everything he had dreamed of. There they had conquered evil. They had dreamed of hope, of change, of fire, of love, of death, and then it had happened – the dream had been real. After so much struggling – for meaning and purpose – in the end he had found it only in Edward and his world.
They had shared experiences of both the fantastic and the mundane. A simple human always needed to find closure, to connect, and to know in their hearts that neither of them was alone. But now they were. They were both alone. It seemed, any dream of theirs had only been real once it was lost.
"This world is so big," Al muttered in amazement.
"Not really," Alfons replied tranquilly. "Compared to a lot of other things, even this world is quite small."
They sat quietly and studied the map for some minutes, before Al spoke again. "What's in that box?"
Alfons' eyes fell on the box he had brought as well. "You'll see." He opened it and rummaged through some old scraps, pencils and Romanian coins. Then he found the small key.
"A key?" Al emphasized.
"That's right," Alfons nodded. "It's a key to a deposit box where the money Van Hohenheim left is."
Al scowled a bit. "Are you going to take it? It's my brother's."
Alfons smiled. "Borrow. I'll earn my own soon. But we'll need something to start out with. I can't keep borrowing from Falman."
"That's true," Al reasoned.
"Technically, it's your money too since it's from your father," Alfons said.
Al's thin fingers tightened a little around the cover of the book he was holding. "Since these books belonged to my father, perhaps I can find something useful in them."
Alfons hesitated. "Useful... about what?"
"About opening the Gate in this world," Al said. "And for that matter, how alchemy works. It has worked once, so it should be able to work again."
Alfons was unsure on how to respond to that.
"Don't try to get me back."
Al stood up and picked up some notes Edward had been scribbling before they left. "It looks like he worked on something. I want to find out more about what it was."
"It was to close the Gate," Alfons said honestly, "not open it. And we shouldn't do something like that."
"Why not?" Al wanted to know. "If I can open the Gate, Edward will definitely come back."
"You don't know that for sure," Alfons replied a bit helplessly. Try to keep yourself calm. "It's too dangerous," he pointed out. "Besides... he told me not to do it."
The look he received after having spoken those words was so sharp it could've cut straight through his head.
"I don't care, he always takes the greatest amount of responsibility upon himself, but that doesn't mean he has to do everything by himself!" Al retorted.
Everything turned silent for a minute, while they both stood and stared at each other. He knew Al had a point, but even so... There was still not any certainty that Edward would come back even if they tried.
Alfons clenched his fists and took a couple of deep breaths. "Let's not argue about this, please. I need some time to think." He was too tired for this.
Al turned away from him and continued picking up notes floating around. "Fine," he said. "Think as much as you want, but I'll still look into this. If I find out about something, don't try to stop me."
Alfons left it at that. There was a low chance that Al would figure it all out anyway, wasn't there? He'd let Al do as he wished, as long as alchemy didn't work, it didn't really matter. Maybe it would even help Al realize that it was all pointless. Edward too had needed to try it out sometimes on broken china and other stuff before realizing the hard truth.
First of all, Alfons had to admit that this place needed some work. On top of all the mess, it was dusty and dirty everywhere. He would have to start first thing in the morning if they were going to move in soon.
Al was already sorting out Edward's papers, although Alfons didn't really fancy the prospect that Al might find some good clues about the Gate in them, and even if alchemy was useless, it just wouldn't seem fair to deny him of looking through them either. He still halted though, when he noticed how Al studied one particular sheet of paper carefully for several seconds.
"What is it?" he asked.
Al looked at him, and then showed him the page. "A transmutation circle."
Alfons stepped closer to look at it, and then smiled softly as the memory of that particular drawing flashed through his mind. "I remember that one."
"Really?" Al said.
"Edward was always reading in all kinds of places, and always moved the oil lamp everywhere in the house to be able to see since we often kept the lights out to save power," Alfons explained. "The lamp slipped out of his metal hand once and broke. Then he tried to put it back together before I noticed." He chuckled softly. "I can't believe it's still floating around the living room. That incident happened almost right after we moved in."
Al actually smiled from the story. "It didn't work, did it?"
"No, unfortunately," Alfons said. "I bought a new one instead."
Al looked thoughtfully at the transmutation circle again. Then, without another word he put it down on the floor, clapped his hands together and touched it with both palms down.
Alfons' heart made a sudden leap in his chest. "What are you doing?"
What if it actually worked? What would he do then?
Without listening to the other, Al's hands pressed firmly at the circle on the floor, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. Two seconds passed, five seconds, ten...
Alfons made a quiet sigh in relief. They couldn't start doing alchemy in this world, even if it worked on occasion. No. It was too dangerous. If people found out that a power like that truly existed, it would definitely get misused. Again.
Al opened his eyes and his tense shoulders relaxed slowly again. The transmutation circle lay pressed beneath his palms, still unused. Nothing had worked in practice, he had to admit that, but he had still felt something. He didn't know exactly what it was, but it couldn't have been just a coincidence. There had been some energy there, like his hands had felt a weak electric shock. His hands felt warm!
Al swallowed, feeling his heart beating faster in excitement. Bronze eyes directed up at Alfons again. "Do you have a calendar?"
"A calendar?" Alfons repeated slowly. "Yeah, in the kitchen."
Al leapt up to his feet and headed for the kitchen, still with the transmutation circle in hand.
Alfons felt startled and stepped after him. "Why?"
The younger boy stopped by the stove and brought the calendar, which showed the month of October, down from the wall and started flipping the pages over to December.
"A full moon always occurs in the middle of a month," Al muttered, more to himself than Alfons. "Monday 17th. Then there's a full moon."
"What are you talking about?" Alfons asked, staring down at the dates. It was marked which day the moon was full and half, but why was that important? Did that have anything to do with alchemy? He sent Al a suspicious look.
Al put the calendar back and averted his eyes. "Nothing, just forget it."
Though, Alfons didn't miss the look of hidden excitement in those bronze eyes. He sighed, pretending to be oblivious. "What if we take a trip back into the city before the bank closes? Then we can start getting things in order in here."
Al considered it, his eyes still fixed on the transmutation drawing before answering. "Alright."
On the way out they stopped by the flower shop again where Gracia had started rearranging a stand of various flowers.
"We're going out for a bit," Alfons let her know. "But we'll be back soon."
"That's alright," she said. "Have you decided if you're moving back in?"
Alfons nodded. "Yeah, we've decided to do it."
"That's lovely," Gracia smiled. "I'm glad you're coming back."
"Me too. I'll see you later," Alfons waved and shrugged on his borrowed jacket. Al did the same, although Alfons noted that it still wasn't actually fit for the temperature outside.
"We should buy you some warmer clothes as well," Alfons said as they headed down the street. "Or you'll freeze."
Al smiled a thin smile and kept his eyes glued on the ground. "I'm fine."
"You're lucky you haven't caught a cold yet," Alfons returned easily. "We can stop by a shop on the way back."
"It's not necessary, I like what I'm wearing," Al stated.
Alfons glanced down on the screaming-red coat, well aware that it used to be Edward's. Although, it was dirty and ragged at the edges after being through a lot of dangers in the past. "It isn't much use at this time of the year," he reasoned. He didn't mean to preach, but it was the middle of winter!
Al was reluctant to reply, which Alfons found slightly immature, but he decided to leave it be and just buy him a new coat regardless. But he could partly understand too. If he had a coat that had belonged to Edward, he would never have taken it off.
"I'm going to check up on some schools for you," Alfons said conversationally. "The sooner you enter one, the better. It's in the middle of a school year, but I guess we can't help it. Besides, I think you'll manage just fine."
Al ignored the compliment. "What kind of school is it?"
"Well, at your age you'll usually be in middle school. But I'll try getting you into a high school anyway."
Al looked thoughtfully up at him. "You mean the age I look. You don't think I could go to a university like my brother did?"
Alfons stopped, looking at him in surprise. Then he couldn't help the short laugh escaping through his nose before he realized that Al was serious.
Al glared up at him. "You don't have to laugh. Even if I don't remember you, I remember everything else, which technically makes me 17, not 13."
"Still, that's high school level and it would be difficult to explain," Alfons reasoned, trying to smooth it over. He had gone to university at an age of sixteen, after all. But he had still finished all the high school exams first. "I'm sorry, I know you're brilliant but it wouldn't be possible."
"I want to study something more specific," Al disputed. "One day I want to get my brother's real limbs back." He knew how his brother felt about that, that he had accomplished what was needed and was used to the automail, but in this world those limbs would be a bigger weakness than ever. Al had understood that wearing automail wasn't as normal in this world as in his.
Alfons choked on his own breath. He made a complete halt in the middle of the sidewalk, and Al stopped as well, staring questioningly at him.
"First of all," Alfons said somewhat piqued, "Edward is not here, and secondly, you'll need to graduate high school before any university will even accept you in the first place."
"He's not here right now, no, but he will be before I've graduated," Al retorted stubbornly.
Alfons didn't want to have this conversation at all. Why was it that they always ended up discussing things like this, and why did he feel like he was the one in the wrong no matter how reasonable he tried to be?
"Don't talk about this here," he simply rejoined in the end. "We can't predict the future like that... We just have to..." live in the present? Why did it all sound so pointless? "Just be careful what you say out in public," Alfons drilled briskly. He didn't want anyone to overhear anything strange.
"I'm fed up talking with you," Al stated coldly. He dropped down on a bench nearby, ignoring the snow and mulishly crossed his arms. "I just want my brother, not you." He decided, he wouldn't move from that spot. He wasn't at all in the mood to listen to the other anymore, friend of his brother or not. He didn't even seem to care about his brother.
Alfons took a couple of deep breaths. The words stung a bit, but he ignored it. So what if Al acted like this now, eventually things would get better, wouldn't they? The bank wasn't far away, just a couple of blocks down the street. If Al wanted to sit there and cool down, then so be it.
"Fine," he said resignedly. "Wait here then, I'll be right back."
"Whatever," Al muttered, efficiently avoiding his face.
Alfons stomped away, finding everything about their argument totally unnecessary and wanted to shake some reason into Al, but decided to simply do what he came for. He shouldn't let it get to him too much, he knew that. Al was upset, he was upset, and Edward simply wasn't here anymore. They had to do the best they could to manage without him, whether they liked it or not.
He stepped into the bank and groaned inwardly at the mile long queue. And Al wouldn't get much warmer by sitting in the snow on a bench in minus ten degrees with that coat. He considered leaving again, but then decided not to. Al would find him if he changed his mind, and it wasn't actually Alfons' fault that Al had inherited Edward's unreasonable stubbornness. So he stepped to the end of the line and waited patiently for his turn. Fortunately it went suitably faster than he had expected, except from of course the lady right in front of him in the line who used at least fifteen minutes, and his back was staring to ache from standing still for so long.
He picked up the key from his pocket and looked at it. There was a number on it, probably the number of the right deposit box. Though, he wondered if Edward had ever been in there and checked what was in it. He might have while Alfons had been hospitalized after being shot, but he had never said anything about it except that they would have plenty of backup money if they ran too short.
Finally it was his turn and after explaining that he was here on behalf of Edward Elric, he was shown into another room.
"Just wait here, Mr. Heiderich, and the deposit box will be brought to you shortly," the woman said.
"Thank you." He stood and waited for a moment before a man arrived with the box.
"Here you go," the man said. "You can open it at a more private spot over there." He gestured towards a row of curtains.
Alfons nodded in gratitude and took the box with him inside behind one of the curtains. He put it down on a small table and inserted the key. His heart was beating a little excitedly as he opened the box, and for a moment he simply stared petrified into it.
The box had two sections; the largest one roomed of money. A lot of money. On another note, it was dollars and not marks. Which meant, this money was worth a lot more.
Alfons paid attention to the other section. There was a gun, a packet of bullets, a smaller box and a notebook. From seeing these objects, Alfons was certain that Edward hadn't been aware that any of these things had been here. Maybe he had been too occupied by the books to bother checking it out.
He avoided even touching the gun and picked up the notebook. It was full of quotations and notes that was without doubt alchemy related. Alfons found himself having a small dilemma. This notebook was probably exactly what Al was looking for. There were unmistakeably references to the Gate in it, there had to be.
Alfons put the notebook slowly down again. The research was too dangerous. Knowing Edward, he would never have allowed them to touch the matter again. They had escaped the Gate by a hair last time. What was to stop the Gate from taking one of them if they opened it once more? Two parallel people couldn't live in the same world at the same time, and the reason they managed to was because Edward had sacrificed himself. If they were to mess that up, wouldn't Edward's effort have gone to waste? Furthermore, there was no guarantee that he was even still alive.
Alfons had seen him disappear, swallowed by darkness. Right in front of his eyes.
He realized his eyes had been watering again, and clutched a hand in front of his mouth. He couldn't let Al know about the notebook. He had to make sure he didn't find out about the Gate. Maybe he should even burn it, along with Edward's notes? Then Al would definitely not be able to find any clues good enough to practice any alchemy. But if he did that, Al would certainly never forgive him.
Damn it.
His attention fell on the small box beside the notebook and he picked it up. It opened easily and inside was one single thing. A tiny red stone.
Alfons frowned. A stone? A ruby, maybe? He didn't recognize it from anywhere. He plucked it out of the box and closed it within his palm. It felt warm in his hand, and it kind of reminded him of Edward. Edward was always acting like the colour of red – of determination, of passion. Red was a symbol of courage and sacrifice, it would've been the colour of the flag of Edward's sailing ship, like the coat Al was wearing after him.
The minute Alfons had the stone in his hand, he didn't feel like he ever wanted to let go of it. He put it into his pocket. Then he picked up an amount of the money. He wouldn't have to exchange them into marks to be able to use them. Anyone would be happy to receive dollars over marks because of their higher value. But he didn't take out a lot. People might get suspicious of him if he went around with a lot of dollars on him, and he didn't want to get into trouble. He picked out enough to some food and a coat for Al, and pocketed the bills as well. Then he closed the box and locked it carefully.
Now he only had to get back to Al and break the ice with him. Again.
Al sat on the bench, kicking crossly at the snow with the tip of his boot and feeling angry and misplaced. What was he supposed to do in this world, anyway? He wondered if he should drop going to school altogether so he could concentrate on researching alchemy. He knew he could do it, he had to. Edward had preformed alchemy in this world, and that meant it could be possible for him too. Besides, he had learned the code for when the alchemy was most likely to work before he came here. He just had to wait for the right moment and then try it out.
Al started to realize, that he didn't like this world at all. He couldn't help noticing the darkness looming all over the place. The people of Munich were all unhappy. It was like he could look through a window into their very souls through their eyes as they passed by, and he saw sadness, despair, guilt, grief and pain. The colours of this world were all as dark as the miserable souls of its people. How did a country end up like this? Was the entire world just like Germany?
Alfons Heiderich was acting so unfair. He didn't seem like he even cared about finding a way to get Edward back at all. It pissed Al off. Maybe he had just acted nice, like he wanted to help him, but in reality he was a coward. Just a weakling like he had been back when he woke up after his life got turned upside down.
"Useless," Al muttered underneath his breath. He didn't really want to live with him anyway. He could find a place on his own. He could take care of himself. Then he could finally start working undisturbed on things that actually mattered.
The cold was starting to get to him and he shivered a little. To make the time go, he started counting prime numbers, but grew tired of it after a while and stopped at 293. What took Heiderich so long, anyway? He didn't even have his gloves and his fingers had started to grow stiff from the cold. He held them in front of his lips and blew some hot air out to relieve his hands from some of the frost. He wouldn't go after Heiderich, no way. It would be like utter defeat. So he remained seated.
A black car stopped beside him and a man dressed in a long, white coat stepped out. Al didn't pay him any mind at first, until he realized the man was heading for him.
"Good day, young man," the stranger spoke with a strange accent and curtly lifted off his bowler hat in a short greeting. He looked to be in his mid thirties and wore a genuine smile. His hair was long and dark and bound in a ponytail. "Why are you sitting here alone?"
Was something familiar about him?
Al pressed his hands a little tighter in front of his mouth and blew another stream of hot air on them in an attempt of avoiding the possibility of frost bite. "I'm waiting for someone," he replied shortly, trying not to sound too impolite, but he rather didn't want to speak with anyone right now. He was in a pretty bad mood already.
"Do you mind if I borrow your time for a moment?" the man asked. "I might have some information that will interest you."
Al doubted that, but he couldn't help his curiosity. There was something awfully familiar about this man, but he couldn't really place him. It started to chafe at the back of his brain like a piece of sand paper. He hated not remembering things! Maybe it would come back to him if he let the man talk.
"I'm listening."
"Splendid." The man ignored the snow as well and sat down next to him on the bench. "I happen to know a few things about you, and I'm also interested in the old art of alchemy."
Alphonse's eyes widened and his heart started beating a little bit faster. How did he know? He thought everyone in this world was entirely clueless when it came to alchemy. "W-Who are you?"
"You can call me Dietrich, Alphonse."
Al scowled, starting to feel nervous. A complete stranger in another world he had never met before knew his name and about alchemy. Creepy. "How do you know about me?"
"I'll tell you in time," Dietrich said. "First of all, I reckon you're Van Hohenheim's second son, and that your older brother used to live in Germany?"
"Do you know my brother?" Al asked, unable to hide the trace of hopefulness in his own voice.
"Unfortunately I haven't met him," Dietrich admitted. "But I happen to know that he made a Gate in this world with alchemy, and that this Gate disappeared when you showed up."
Al closed his lips and felt slightly uncomfortable. "Were you there when we... showed up?"
"I've been monitoring the building for some time from a cabin close by," Dietrich told. "Occasionally I went inside to study the strange phenomenon in the ceiling, for the sake of science. I was trying to figure out the secrets of the Gate. It's highly regrettable that it disappeared."
Al looked away. "It was probably for the best. It's quite dangerous." He hated himself for repeating Heiderich's words, but he wouldn't encourage others to seek out the Gate again.
"I was wondering though, why it was only you and your doppelganger that arrived together. Didn't your brother come with you?"
Al felt very uncomfortable by those questions, his eyes searching the street behind the man to see if Alfons was close by, but he didn't see him anywhere. Should he be talking about this at all? Did it even matter? This man already knew about the Gate. He might as well try to figure out exactly how much he knew and what he wanted. "He kind of... didn't make it," Al said hesitantly. "Not yet."
"Oh, I see. I'm sorry to hear that," Dietrich said. "Let me tell you something. I was really hoping that perhaps you could assist me in learning more about the science of alchemy," he continued easily.
"Like, teach you how?" Al repeated. How did this person know about alchemy in the first place? Did he come from Thule Society? Last time Thule Society, or this world in general, had gotten close to alchemy it had ended up in a catastrophe. He didn't remember all of it of course, but Alfons had given him a brief story. With that in mind, his answer was easy: "Sorry, but I can't do that."
"What do you mean you can't?" Dietrich smiled. "If anyone can, it'd be you. You see, the source of energy might have hit more people than you, but you're still the only one who would know how to use it."
"What do you mean?" Al asked.
"There was a powerful strike to this world that night you came here, a high flow of energy," Dietrich explained. "But we won't know until the special days to come."
Al frowned. Did he mean the days where alchemy would possibly work? "The 17th?" Al emphasized.
"You're an intelligent boy," Dietrich said. "If your brother is still inside the Gate, he might be able to come here if we open it again."
Al brightened up at those words. This man thought so too?
"But to do it, I'll need your help." Dietrich searched his own pocket and picked up something he hid in his palm. "Perhaps you recognize this." He opened up his palm in front of Al, exposing a small red stone.
Al's bronze eyes magnified by the sight of the stone. And by that he remembered who this man reminded him of. He had known his parallel person, even fought him over two years ago as a suit of armour, before he got killed by Scar. Zolf J. Kimbley. The red stone in the hands of this man had reminded him of the destruction it had caused in Ishbal and how the power of alchemy had been misused into creating explosives.
But that had been Kimbley. This was a different person, just like he and Alfons Heiderich were two completely different people. But that didn't really explain why this man possessed this stone.
Al let his eyes off the stone and studied Dietrich's blue eyes. "It's an incomplete Philosopher's stone, right? Where did you...?"
"We got it from a homunculus that used to be in Germany until your brother disappeared," Dietrich explained simply. "Stones like this one materialized from the creature's blood."
Al understood he had to be talking about Envy. He knew Envy had been in this world at the same time as his brother, and then they had returned to Amestris in a flying machine.
"If we use this stone as a catalyst, our chances will increase to succeed," Dietrich reasoned. "Don't you agree?"
"I guess so," Al replied slowly. The possibilities... "Would you really help me get my brother back?"
"Of course I would," the man replied. "I have a suggestion. Come with me, and we can talk more privately." He rose and gestured towards the automobile.
Al rose too, albeit unsure. What would Heiderich say when he returned and he wasn't there anymore? Did it even matter? Not nearly enough to let go of a chance to find out more about a way he might get Edward back.
So he nodded and stepped over to the vehicle, and Dietrich opened the door for him.
"AL!" a voice shouted from a small distance away. "ALPHONSE, STOP!"
Al gasped and abruptly turned towards the familiar voice. To his light surprise he saw Alfons Heiderich running at full speed towards them.
Then a strong palm suddenly gripped uncomfortably hard around his upper arm, and Al stared startled up at the man behind him. Dietrich seemed all of a sudden in a hurry and tried to push him into the backseat before Alfons could reach them and stop it.
Al suddenly backpedalled and tensed, instantly changing his mind. "Wait." He tugged his arm free and stepped away; getting a very bad feeling by the way the man had suddenly tried to rush him inside. Then he noticed that Dietrich was reaching for something inside his jacket, and he got even more alarmed.
In the next second Alfons Heiderich reached him and pulled him away from the automobile by his elbow, with surprising strength and firmness. His blue eyes were like raging ice. "Stay away from him," he panted, addressing the older man. "Who are you? Why are you following us?"
Dietrich's smile was like wiped off his face. "Alphonse is coming with me. Aren't you, Alphonse?"
Al wasn't so sure anymore and didn't reply.
The accent was strange, Alfons noted in the heat of the moment. Slightly awkward diphthongs and strangely long vocals. Italian? Or maybe French?
"He's not going anywhere." Alfons trembled a little, noticing how the man was about to reach inside his jacket for something that was unmistakably a gun, and he started regretting not bringing the gun from the deposit box.
"I'll give you a warning, boy," the man dressed in white and the familiar bowler hat said, "hand him over to me, or someone else will suffer for it."
Al's eyes widened. Dietrich had seemed nice until now. He gave Alfons an agitated look. "Let me go, he knows about me," he said fast. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Shut up, Al!" Alfons barked. He directed his eyes at the man again. "Leave us alone. There are plenty of witnesses around here. Whatever you're thinking of doing, you won't get away with it."
The warning was as clear as glass. The man slowly let his hand drop from his jacket and sent them a sharp look before he turned back to his auto. "For now, Heiderich. We'll meet again," he said before he climbed in, quickly starting the automobile and drove away, disappearing around the street corner.
Al and Alfons stared silently after it and Alfons realized suddenly he was still clutching Al's elbow. He loosened the grip and snatched Al's shoulders instead, turning him around and staring intently at him. "Are you alright? What did he say to you?"
Al averted his eyes and pulled away from his grasp. "Nothing."
"Don't tell me it was nothing," Alfons thundered. "I've never spoken to him before, yet he knew both of our names and you were about to willingly step into his auto like a child lured in with candy!"
Al was about to protest to the comparison, but Alfons continued angrily. "Didn't you notice at all that this was the same man who watched us last night when we arrived at Falman's? I knew there had to be something fishy about him, but I couldn't be sure until now." Alfons rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. "You said he knows something, so spit it out! What did he tell you?"
Al stood stiff and refused to meet his eyes. But he decided to answer the question. "He monitored the Gate. He told me he was studying it for scientific reasons, and he saw us. He even had a red stone."
Alfons' eyes narrowed. "A red stone?"
"Yeah, an incomplete Philosopher's stone," Al elaborated, though Alfons probably wouldn't know what that was.
"Oh, so that's what it is..." Alfons muttered. He brought his hand into his pocket and picked up the red stone from the deposit box. "Did it look like this one?"
Al's eyes widened. "Yes. Exactly like that one... Where did you get it?"
"From the deposit box," Alfons said. "Clearly, your father hid it there, although there was no mention of how he obtained it."
"It probably comes from the same place Dietrich got one," Al said in a low voice. "From a homunculus called Envy. If you take out blood of a homunculus it will crystallize into a red stone."
Alfons recognized that name. Envy had died at the time he and Edward had been held captured by Thule Society in Amestris. "Him..." He locked his fingers around the stone again. "Is that all that man said?"
"Yeah," Al lied, not mentioning the prospect of actually performing alchemy in this world. He didn't even know why he didn't tell Alfons everything. Perhaps because he'd probably freak out even more if he found out that Al could be seriously capable of performing alchemy. Maybe he even was suspicious of it already, which was the reason why he wouldn't let Al have the stone?
"This is bad," Alfons muttered. "Scientists can be scary when there's something they don't understand." He looked down at Al again and forced him to get eye contact. "I want you to promise me, Al, if you see him ever again, stay far away from him or run."
Al frowned up at him. "Tell me one thing. What is so bad about trying to find a way to get my brother back?"
Alfons was slightly taken aback and hardly even realized that the subject was changed so quickly. "We can't," he managed, lowering his voice. "We can't open the Gate again. It's too unstable and risky. It the most dangerous existing thing ever! Even now I still find it hard to believe that something like that exists, regardless of what we know."
"That's not the point! Don't you want to get him back?" Al asked dangerously.
Alfons' heart made cruel whack towards his throat, threatening to choke him. How could he even doubt that? Edward was everything to him. "Of course I do! More than anything in the world."
"You have a pretty terrible way of showing it," Al grated. "I don't even believe you. You're too selfish! You don't even want him to come back!"
"That's NOT true!" Alfons screamed, making people stop and stare at them on the street. His blood was boiling and his heart was beating so hard his chest hurt. He was starting to grow tired of feeling on the edge of crying all the time. He ignored all the people's stares.
"I want him back more than anything." His hands lifted to his face, to block the flow. "I don't even know how to live..." Alfons stopped himself in panic. Oh no, this sounded wrong. Al didn't know about the relationship he had had to Edward anymore, and how strange would it sound when hearing Alfons say he didn't know how to live without Edward? What was he supposed to say?
Al scowled suspiciously at him. "What exactly are you to my brother?"
There it was, the exact question he didn't know how to answer. It had been much easier last time, when he could leave all the basic explanations to Edward. Perhaps he was selfish, more selfish than he wanted to even admit to himself. Everything had been so easy when Edward had been there, hadn't it? Edward always took care of everything. And Al always listened to Edward. Why would he even care to listen to Alfons? He knew Al probably hated him.
Besides, Al was right – the less they tried, the less would be done. Edward would probably never be able to come back on his own, unless the Gate wanted him to. But still, Alfons was afraid. What if they tried everything and nothing changed? He wouldn't even manage to bear it.
"Did you listen, or what?" Al spoke again impatiently. "You're creeping me out."
"I'm sorry," Alfons said tentatively. "I don't really know how to tell you this."
"Just tell me," Al said. "If you were in love with my brother or something, I reckon you would have tried to get him back regardless if it's dangerous."
"I do love him," Alfons shot back, before he could even think. Then his eyes widened as he realized what he had just said.
Al peered up at him, looking suspicious. "In what way?"
Alfons figured there was no way back now, and he had to confess for real. "In another way than you do," he said silently. "Like... lovers' love."
Al looked slightly disturbed. "Does he feel the same for you?"
Alfons nodded slowly. "Yes."
Al went silent for a long time, and Alfons didn't know what else to say. What if he didn't want to accept them this time, because it was Alfons who had told him and not Edward?
Al dropped back down on the bench, unsure of how to react. He had never thought that this person meant this much to Edward, so much that he was in love with him. It was strange. He had always believed that Edward would marry Winry one day. But he guessed that wouldn't be possible anymore anyway, since Edward probably wouldn't return to Amestris any more than Al ever would. Though, he couldn't deny the possibility that he had. What if Edward was in Amestris? Still, he chose to believe that Edward was inside the Gate, waiting for an opportunity to come to Munich.
Al knew Alfons Heiderich had something to do with every single memory he had lost on the way from his world to this one, which indeed made him important. He had probably known about Alfons' relationship with his brother before. Hell, they had lived in a house together, and he knew a third person had been there with him and his brother. So that was the reason why so many of his recent memories were gone. He had known this person quite well in the end, but for some reason the Gate had taken it all away.
Al looked up at the other again, smiling faintly. "Then, what's wrong with trying?"
Alfons shook his head. "The Gate is unpredictable and there will be no telling what might happen. Either way, it will put you in great danger if you try. Your brother would never let you go through with it." And neither will I...
Al's eyes searched his face, his eyes then saddening. "Why did he have to stay behind? It's not fair."
"Like I said before... It's all my fault," Alfons said. "He did it for me... I know, it's not fair at all. I didn't belong in that world, and it was starting to erase me from people's memories. I wasn't supposed to make it. That's probably why you can't remember me."
Al fell silent again.
"I'm so sorry, Al, but try to understand," Alfons said, his voice stricken from the everlasting lump in his throat. "I wish there was something either of us could do, but it will never be like we want it to be. The Gate, or this strange being calling itself Truth, somehow it always manages to mess things up, and one of us will have to pay for it. For now, let's just take some time to figure things out."
It didn't take Al much effort to understand that Heiderich was doing everything in his power to avoid the whole subject. Because he thought Edward was dead and that everything was his fault?
In the end, Al simply nodded. But internally he told the other, fine, you do that. Even if you have given up on him, I never will. Reality was just yet a dream, but one day it would turn real again. And he knew which.
A/N: There's a sidestory linking to the story directly after this chapter called "Images of a Soul", written by Aevium. Check out her work. ;) There are links in my profile.