Hello everyone! I hope you're all enjoying your summer :) And here there will be some plot development. Thanks for coming back and sticking with this story!
CHAPTER 4: FULL MOON
They stayed over at Vato Falman's house for a couple more days, but used their time to shop and clean up the apartment. They also moved some of the things they didn't need in the apartment up to the attic to clear out some space. To mention some, the books Edward had gotten from Van Hohenheim took up a lot of room on the floor of the living room and made it almost impossible to clean properly, so Alfons decided they had to be moved. First Al was unwilling to move the books, but Alfons reassured him that he could keep a couple of them in the living room or his bedroom and go up to the attic and read the other ones whenever he liked. Al accepted that suggestion.
At the time Alfons Heiderich had revealed his role in the relationship he had with his brother, and Al had already been stressed from all the input and recent events. But now he had gotten some time to really mull it over. It was strange and he couldn't really imagine his brother feeling that way for someone like Heiderich, and he didn't know if he had accepted it before or not. He wished he could remember. But for now, he decided to accept it without liking it. It wasn't important right now.
Still he couldn't resist asking a certain someone that might have known about it from before.
"Did you know about my brother and Heiderich?" he whispered as soon as he found some time alone while tidying and cleaning up Edward's old bedroom.
Schiller shrugged. "I guess I did. They were very close when he held them both captive. Your older brother's devotion to protecting him was admirable to me."
Al stopped sweeping the floor and leant pensively against the mop. "At least that sounds like my brother. I just don't see how he can be attracted to someone who lets him down that easily."
"Aren't you being a little hard on Alfons, kiddo?" Schiller suggested softly. "He's been through a lot more than you remember, after all. Maybe he needs to adjust as much as you do before he knows what to do."
"He seems to have everything figured out to me," Al muttered. "Just move on with it and forget about my brother."
"He isn't like that and you know it deep down," Schiller said. "You should give him some time so long as it isn't too late."
Al went silent. It couldn't be too late for anything; otherwise everything would've been in vain. But why did Schiller defend Alfons Heiderich this much? Al wasn't sure if his older look-alike deserved it.
The apartment was finally all ready to be moved into again, and Alfons felt kind of happy. He was thankful to Falman for having allowed them to stay, but he looked forward to live in the place he had once called his home again. Falman had told him that he was welcome back to the factory whenever he was ready for it, and Alfons couldn't really wait. He hadn't thought he would be able to, but now he wanted to build rockets again. It was the only thing in this world he was good at apart from missing Edward.
Edward was always in his heart, smiling at him during the day and crying with him in the night. Alfons missed him with all his being, and he would never stop. But as Al had put out, he didn't really show it on the outside. Maybe it looked like he didn't even miss Edward at all. Even the thought of that hurt. But Edward had of course been his main, even only, priority. Without even realizing it at first, that had blatantly changed.
Alfons used the money he had withdrawn from the deposit box to buy Al everything he needed, like clothes and even an extra shelf for his books. He also showed him where the library was so he could go there whenever he wanted. Each and every thought in his mind revolved around Al; whether or not things would be suitable for Al, what he should buy that Al liked and which school would be better to sign him up to. Alfons barely had time to even think about Edward much at the time being, or about the fact that he wasn't there anymore, since he unconsciously did everything in his power to be Al's substitute brother.
Mostly he didn't even take Al out of his sight. He had felt slightly nervous ever since the incident with the man in white, especially because he had seemed to be particularly interested in Al and had threatened to hurt someone if Al didn't come with him. Alfons didn't even want to think about what could've happened if he hadn't come back in time. The prospect of losing Alphonse wasn't even an option. He couldn't let that happen. They hadn't discussed the matter any further since that day, and neither did he hope it would ever be necessary to bring it up. It had been three days since it happened, and he hadn't seen the man since that time and Al didn't seem to be thinking about it either. Good.
It was Tuesday and the weather was snowy and grey. Al was walking beside him on the way to the grocery store, since Alfons figured they should make a proper dinner, seeing as it was their first night in their new apartment. Alphonse was wearing his new clothes and a new, warmer coat which he had picked out himself (after finally being convinced that it was better than getting the flu). It was long, brown and had a hood stuffed with warm fleece.
"How much money was really in that deposit box?" Al asked curiously.
Alfons shrugged. "There was a lot, I didn't count it. And everything was in a USD currency."
"What is USD?" Al asked again.
"United States dollars," Alfons explained. He had become pretty used to having to explain a lot to Al being that he was so new to this world and was never too shy to ask questions. "It's a different currency than this country is using, and they're worth much more than marks."
"Why is the mark worth less?" Al wanted to know.
"Because the country got damaged after the war, and Germany has a lot of debt to pay after the Treaty of Versailles. And the inflation makes the value of marks almost less than nothing, which is why people spend as much as they can before the prices increase even further again."
Al scowled. "That's messed up."
"Indeed," Alfons said. "Hopefully it won't last, or people will start leaving the country because they can't afford to live here anymore. There are already many people who leave to the States to start anew."
"We can afford to live here, right?" Al asked indecisively.
"Yeah, don't worry about it," Alfons replied, smiling softly. "Tomorrow I'll start work at the factory again, and then things will start working out."
Al had mixed feelings. Partly he didn't want things to 'start working out' without Edward. But he guessed they had to make out the best of their time until he returned, and he wished to learn more about this new world at the same time as he wanted to hold onto prospects of his own. He couldn't wait for the next full moon. There were only six days left. Then he would try out his theory.
They arrived at the grocery store, where it was crowded as always. Alfons was glad they had arrived a little early, or else they would risk losing most of the supplies if they were already sold out for the day. He started picking out some bread, milk (knowing that Al didn't mind drinking it like Edward had) and eggs.
"If there's anything you want, just add it into the basket," Alfons offered.
"Okay, thanks." Al wandered off for a bit. The store was pretty big, but it wouldn't be a problem to find Heiderich again later. For a while he just went from shelf to shelf and looked at the products without picking something out. There wasn't really anything in particular he wanted. The food in this world wasn't very different from the food in his own world, even if there were a few things that he didn't recognize.
"Hello Alphonse," a voice suddenly said behind him, and Al froze to a block of ice. He felt a hand clamping over his shoulder, and he turned slowly. It was the same man from before, wearing the same face as Zolf J. Kimbley, only without the hat and coat this time. He wore a different jacket over his white suit, probably so he wouldn't get recognized that easily. But his smile was back, and his steely eyes glistened as he watched the younger. "So it's here you've been hiding?"
"What do you want?" Al asked, still not moving, although he knew very well what the man wanted.
"I want you to listen very carefully," Dietrich said menacingly. "There's a full moon in six days. I want you to meet me at the bridge nearby at eight o'clock in the evening on that day."
Al scowled and stepped back. "No."
Dietrich scoffed and leaned closer, making sure no one else could hear their conversation. "It's not like you have much of a choice, Alphonse. I know where to find you if you don't show up." Still holding onto Al's shoulder, he whispered fussily in his ear. "As for your doppelganger, you better keep this a secret. If you don't, I will kill him. Is that understood?"
Al swallowed thickly. Kill...? He didn't doubt for a second that the man could be capable of doing it. Maybe parallel people weren't so different from each other after all. "How do you know about the other world and who I am?" he returned shakily.
"That's not important right now," Dietrich said, straightening up. "Please do as I say, or else you'll come to realize how far I'm willing to go. The hard way." He grinned. "But of course, if the hostility between us can be avoided, I want us to be very good friends. Then you won't regret coming to my side. Think about your brother, Alphonse."
Then the man walked away and disappeared, and Al was left trembling lightly. He was being seriously threatened by this stranger and if he tried to disobey, Alfons Heiderich would get hurt. Following the man's advice and thinking about his brother didn't really calm him down at that point. But still, Dietrich still knew something. Maybe it would be worth it? Was he seriously considering the prospect of befriending a man who could be capable of heartlessly killing someone? Al felt very agitated, and hardly knew what to do with himself, just as Alfons showed up.
"Al, I think we have most of what we need. Did you find anything else you'd like?" Alfons smiled at him until he noticed the look on his face, and then scowled. "What's wrong?"
"N-Nothing," Al said fast, and forced his face to shift into a beam. "I don't want anything."
Alfons looked suspicious. "Did something happen?"
"No, of course not," Al lied. "I was just looking."
"Well, alright," Alfons said slowly. "Let's head back."
Al nodded and followed him to one of the cashiers. The woman smiled at them after counting over all their groceries. "Hi, Alfons. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Alfons smiled back. He recognized her from way back when he had been a regular customer in the shop. "Yeah, I guess so."
"What a cute little brother you have," she commented with a sweet smile. "I haven't seen him before."
"Oh," Alfons said and just shrugged with a light smile. It was a pretty effective way of avoiding pushing the subject any further.
Al had started to get fairly annoyed every time someone just assumed that Heiderich was his brother. He wanted to retort back that he wasn't, but he let the matter slip by on the outside while fuming inwardly. Alfons Heiderich had no relation to him whatsoever. Edward was his big brother, not Alfons. Why couldn't people just shut up? And why didn't Alfons tell them that they were wrong? They were always addressing Heiderich, never Al. It all pissed Al off so much. He stomped out of the store even before Alfons had finished packing all the groceries into paper bags, and had almost completely forgotten about Dietrich already.
Although, Al remembered him the moment he came out of the shop, and immediately became more wary about his surroundings. But the man wasn't in sight anywhere. Maybe he would leave him alone until December 17th.
"Al?" Alfons' voice called behind him as the older stepped out of the grocery store. "Why'd you run off like that?"
"No reason," Al replied frostily. "I just want to go home." He started striding off again without looking back.
Alfons followed with the bags in his hands and had to run to catch up with the younger. "Is it because she assumed that we're brothers?"
He caught on pretty fast, Al had to admit. But didn't that mean that it bothered him too? "Everyone just presumes that we are," Al shot out. "Why aren't you telling them that it's not like that?"
Alfons' eyes narrowed a little, but his voice remained soft. "Because we're… well, we're so alike on the outside that it would be more complicated to explain why we aren't related, I guess."
"We may look alike, but we'll never be the same," Al stated. "We're not related, it's as simple as that!"
"I didn't mean it like that, but why is it so bad to keep a low profile?" Alfons returned, lowering his voice slightly. "The less people know about you, the better."
"Yeah, like everyone would discover that I'm from another world just because I'm not your brother," Al said sarcastically.
"Stop mentioning the other world so carelessly," Alfons scolded. "Have you forgotten about what happened on Saturday already?"
Al snorted. "You're always nagging and trying to control me. Is this some kind of attempt to replace my brother?"
Alfons abruptly stopped, shocked. Replacing...?
Al turned to him with fiery eyes. "Because if you are, stop it right now. You'll never be a substitute for my brother, and neither do I want you as one."
Before Alfons could answer, Al had run off and was gone in between the crowd of people. Even when Al was already out of sight, Alfons found himself still trying to work his jaw back into function.
Was he trying to replace Edward? He would never do that. He simply wanted the best for Al, that was all. Maybe he was trying too hard…
When he came back home he went quietly upstairs so Gracia wouldn't come to see him, and unlocked the door to the silent apartment. He wasn't in the mood to talk with her right now, besides, it was possible that he would need to go straight back out again to search for Al before he got lost. Or would it be better to do nothing? Was he really trying to control Al?
He stepped inside and closed the door. Then his eyes fell on a pair of boots full of melting snow in the hall, and he leant against the door to shut it. He lingered like that for a moment, feeling relieved and stupid. He was too overprotective. Al could take care of himself. He wasn't simply any kid. He was Edward's little brother. He was still the same person who had rescued Alfons once from four military soldiers, and once transmuted a portion of his soul into his shirt to spy around unnoticed.
Alfons allowed a weak smile to himself. He had to tell Al about that incident sometime.
He stepped into the kitchen with the groceries, and judging from the silence in the apartment, Al had just gone straight for his room.
He put away all the food into the fridge and the cabinets, then folded the bags together and put them in a drawer to use them to store garbage in later. When he was done, he stepped through the living room and stopped in front of the bedroom door that used to be Edward's. His knuckles lingered in the air a couple of centimetres from the wood, before he finally knocked twice.
"Al, are you there?" he asked.
There were some seconds of silence before the reply came. "Leave me alone, I'm reading."
"Look, I'm sorry," Alfons said. "I might've tried to be another big brother to you, but I didn't mean it like that. I'm not replacing anyone. It's just because of…" The words trailed off in his mind.
"… because of what?" Al pushed. He seemed interested.
Alfons smiled meekly to himself. "It was the last thing Edward asked me to do."
There was another silence, before he heard someone shift and move across the room. Then the door opened slowly and Al's copper eyes were glued to the floor, but at least he listened. "What did he say?" he asked quietly.
Alfons leaned his back against the wall next to the door. "He said, 'take care of him for me'."
Al's eyes lifted, widened, and fixed at him.
"That's merely what I'm trying to do," Alfons beamed softly. "Both for you and Edward. It's what he wanted me to do and I want to as well, as long as you need me here."
Al's face saddened again and his eyes pointed downward to the floorboards. He felt torn between rage and relief over the person facing him. Why couldn't he just understand and save them some trouble? Alfons hadn't even tried to suggest anything that could help Edward since they got here. But what could Al have done without Alfons there for him? He hated the fact, but without Alfons he wouldn't have gotten far after coming to this world. Edward had known that, even if his act had seemed careless.
Maybe Schiller had a point, after all. He just needed some time to adjust as well. Al knew, Alfons was far from enjoying being back in his own world, and Al did appreciate what he did for him.
"I'm sorry too," he mumbled. "I know you want Edward back as much as I do, and that you're not trying to replace him. I'm just… so constantly angry. Not really at you, I know it's not your fault, but I'm angry at… I don't even know what."
"The world," Alfons murmured.
Al took a deep breath and let it out soundly. "Yeah… the unfair world."
Alfons lifted his hand and squeezed Al's shoulder a bit. "Just remember that you're not alone, even if Edward isn't here. I'll try to remember the same."
Alphonse looked up and nodded slowly. "You and my brother… you're very close, right?"
Alfons nodded as well. "Yes."
Al was afraid of the details, but it couldn't help asking. "I knew about it before I came here, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did."
"I remember vaguely that I had a conversation with him in Resembool," Al said. "But there are so many holes in my memory, sometimes I can't sort out what he said at what time and what is connected to what."
Alfons sighed. "If you want, I can try to help you fill in some of them."
Al brightened up a little. "Yeah, I'd like to know." He wanted to know how he had known Heiderich from before, what they had done together, what they had talked about. If he had been that close to Edward, Alfons would know his brother better than anyone else.
"Alright," Alfons smiled. "But first of all, are you hungry? I can make us some fried potatoes and burgers."
"Sounds good," Al replied, as his stomach made a sound that agreed.
The rest of the evening was spent eating and talking about the time before they arrived Munich. Alfons got caught up in telling stories about how he and Edward built a flying machine and flew to Thule Society, and that the first time Al met him he had almost knocked him out with a stick.
"That's both comical and disturbing," Al commented while taking a bite of fried potato and chewing. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"Not much," Alfons joked. "When I had gotten some life into Edward again, you calmed down slightly."
"Slightly?" Al wrinkled his nose.
"Much later you were following us on the train to Lior when your brother and I were going to try destroy the Gate and Edward said you couldn't come with us. You came after us anyway and got caught by me," Alfons told merrily. "Then you transmuted a part of your soul into my shirt so you could spy around."
"Wow, really? I'm a genius," Al grinned.
"Your brother didn't like it much though," Alfons chuckled.
"Oh, that's right," Al said slowly. "I remember he warned me that a transmutation like that can be rather risky. I was aware of it, but nothing bad in particular had ever happened to me before concerning it."
"Well, it's probably for the best that you can't do it anymore," Alfons noted calmly.
Al smiled a thin smile. "Sure." Or maybe he could?
In secret Alfons had stored up some of Edward's old clothes in his own bedroom. They needed to put most of them up into the attic to have enough space for Al's clothes in the closet, but he hadn't completely removed everything. Some of it he could still use since they often had shared each other's shirts, save for the fact that the reason he kept them was mostly because it was the closest thing he had left of Edward's.
That night he rummaged through one of the bags and found one of Edward's favourite shirts. It was wine red, and Alfons had loved it from the first moment Edward had put in on at a University Christmas party last year. He had used it after that too, and it clearly stuck itself out from all the other plain white ones.
Alfons brought the smooth linen to his nose and inhaled deeply. He could still smell the scent of Edward coming from it. If he could, he'd never wash this shirt.
He brought the shirt to his old bed and flapped the long sleeves around himself before he buried himself underneath the covers. He hugged around the shirt, which hugged him fancifully back, and in his mind Edward was wearing the shirt while lying right next to him, leaning closer and kissed him softly on the lips. He would never open his eyes ever again if he could, because then he would see that Edward wasn't really there.
This was the first night he spent in this apartment after he returned without Edward. It was far from the same as it had used to be.
He curled up on his side and breathed steadily out. Edward draped a protective metal arm around his waist and kissed him again, this time on the cheek. It was almost like Alfons could really feel the weight of his arm resting protectively over him.
"You're doing a great job," Edward's voice whispered. "I know it isn't easy for you and I feel terrible for throwing you into it all like that, but Al is grateful even if he doesn't always show it." His voice was soothing and calm, relaxed and warm. Deep as the ocean, coherent as the waves.
"You don't have to say that, I would've taken care of him even if you hadn't asked me to," Alfons replied quietly. Then he scoffed. "But thanks anyway."
"I know I didn't have to tell you to," Edward said, sitting up beside him. "You've always been the one I could trust the most."
"So were you," Alfons whispered. He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath as his vision of his Edward didn't disappear. Was he dreaming?
Edward's hair was loose and he was wearing a white shirt and black leather pants. Calm golden eyes fixed at him, wearing an expression Alfons couldn't even read. Probably because he was starting to lose his mind and imagining things...
"Why are you afraid of me?" Edward asked solemnly.
"Afraid of you?" Alfons echoed in the dark. That was ridiculous. He was afraid, alright. But of Edward? This was rather the most wonderful dream he had ever had. "I'm not afraid of you. I miss you," Alfons said softly.
Edward leaned down over him, his lips lightly brushing his again. "I miss you too," he murmured.
"Edward…" Alfons breathed out. He closed his eyes again, certain that Edward would disappear if he opened them again. So he didn't want to open them. Refused to. "Are you ever coming back?"
"Do you believe I will?" Edward asked.
Alfons hesitated. "Sometimes, but not always," he admitted.
"Why?" Edward asked. He sounded a bit hurt.
"I don't know… I have a bad feeling about everything. The Gate... You disappeared right in front of me."
"So did you, Alfons," Edward said. "You remember when the Gate took you in Amestris, right?"
Alfons worked his jaw, feeling his heart slamming hard against his ribs. "How did you know that I wasn't dead then? How could you know?"
"I just did," Edward replied softly.
Alfons smiled a weak smile and held a little tighter around the wine coloured shirt. "I love you, Edward," he breathed out in the dark. "I wish you weren't gone..."
"I hate seeing you this unhappy." Edward's voice murmured. "I'm sorry."
In his mind, the fictive fragment of his imagination that was Edward, trailed down his body with his hand and enveloped him underneath the covers. While stroking lightly, his mouth found a nipple and nibbled it benevolently. Almost like his imagination was doing it to make it up to him for messing with his head so much. Alfons didn't fight against it. He was already on his road to Hell from a long while back, so why back down now? His only wish in the end besides seeing that silvery light shine in the eyes ringed with gold of the one he had left to love in this world, was for his death to be merciful and quick before he crossed the thresholds of damnation. He didn't deserve any further chances to escape it.
Alfons started growing hard and shifted onto his back on the sheets, still with his eyes closed. He pulled the ownerless shirt up to his mouth and kissed it, while he let his other hand trail down his own stomach and lower, behind the waistband of his shorts and touched himself. The pleasure was real. He felt guilty, but couldn't help it. This way he felt closer to Edward. The only times he had felt like this had been with him.
He started off lightly, teasing himself like Edward would've teased him, let out a few short breaths before stroking slowly. In his mind, Edward's mouth was on him, and one flesh hand and one metal rested on his hips. His left hand clung tighter onto Edward's shirt, the sleeves still wrapped around him while he was inhaling its scent, kissing it, biting and sucking on it. A silent hiss was driven from his throat as Edward swallowed him whole and bobbed his head, the sound itself couldn't really tell pleasure apart from pain. The sensuous slide made him throb, and he wanted nothing more than to stretch it out, to keep himself on the edge for as long as possible until his body took over and the blood roared in his ears.
Sucking in a deep breath, Alfons moved his hand rhythmically, pacing up and arched his head back on the pillow. His lips parted and let out a quiet gasp and his hips bucked into his own working hand. The feeling of bliss was building up an abrupt pressure from his spine to his groin, making the crown of the tip drool for more friction. Edward crawled up his body and stole his lips, his ghostly body pressing against his and Alfons never wanted himself to lose that feeling.
He slowed down, almost stopped. He didn't want it to end so soon. He didn't want Edward to disappear. He suspended his climax and controlled his breathing, even as his body was close to breaking.
Pearls of sweat had settled on his forehead, and Alfons arched on the bed like he was being tortured, waiting for Edward's permission to be touched again and bring himself back into mindless bliss.
Alfons kept his eyes closed. His body arched all over, unsatisfied and craving to be touched again.
"Don't stop," Edward suddenly murmured in his ear, touching him again, and this time going straight to the point in the exact right firmness and pace that shot electric shivers down Alfons' spine. "Don't be unhappy anymore."
Alfons sealed the golden haired angel's mouth with a kiss, fisting of locks of his hair and their lips conserved together, and neither rough nor gentle but with need and desire. Alfons' fingers coiled around Edward's slender waist, and felt Edward's lips against the crook of his neck, thirsting for his flesh as he lacked his own, fingers curled upon Alfons' shoulder blade with a protective grip. Alfons felt like he should've been troubled by how real this felt, but instead he felt safe.
"Edward..." He suppressed a deep moan by pressing the shirt in front of his mouth, and Edward leaned over him again, pressing against him and bit gently at his neck. Stabbed by the pressure of his own arousal he finally let himself go over the edge, and Alfons quickly moved his left hand to cover over the tip and whimpered Edward's name as he came. He erupted into his palm and was left sprawled on the bed, tangled in the sheets and panting.
Edward's warm presence was still there, wrapped around his lax form. He kissed his lips softly and stroked his hair and Alfons trembled a little from the ghostly touch. It felt strangely warm.
"You can tell me the truth," Edward said. "Just say it. You can't keep it from me like the way you can't keep it from yourself."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alfons whispered softly. "You aren't even real."
"You're afraid."
"No," Alfons breathed out sharply. "The only thing I've afraid of is that I've lost you forever."
"You know you haven't," Edward said. "I'm me." Like that explained everything. "I won't die that easily and you know it, you've witnessed it. There's something else."
"You tell me then," Alfons mumbled.
"Isn't it that you're afraid that I've forgotten about you?"
Alfons' breathing ragged up, his chest heaving rapidly up and down, still being in a state of post-orgasmic exhaustion. Awfully agitated by himself, he knew that Edward's ghost was his own true conscious and that he would always be right when it came to how he was really feeling. Secrets didn't exist anymore. Maybe even his and Edward's relationship didn't.
As awful as it sounded, it did make sense, didn't it?
He swallowed and whispered out in the dark. "Al forgot about me. Perhaps everyone in the other world did when I disappeared. What if you have too? I'm afraid that you have forgotten everything we had, that I even existed, and no one but me will be left remembering the best time of my life. The best time of my life has always revolved around you, and why would you want to be with me again if all of that is gone? I'd go insane. I already am about to."
His eyes had flowed over at that point and the pillow beneath his head was getting soaked with salt water by his ears.
Edward sat up, away from him and rested his metallic elbow on a pushed up knee. Skin pale as silk, he was silent for a long time, so long that Alfons thought he was gone as well. But in the end he spoke again.
"Even if I forgot about you, you haven't given up on me, have you?"
Even his imaginary Edward was hurt. Even more than before.
"No, that's not it," Alfons cried. "It's just… everything has turned against us! I don't know what to do and I don't want to put Al in danger."
"Of course," Edward said. "I guess that's reason enough to believe that I'm—"
"Edward!" Alfons burst out and sat up, eyes wide open, determined not to let him finish that sentence. Breathless and lightheaded, his cobalt eyes searched every corner of the room, but Edward wasn't there. Somehow Alfons almost felt broken up. His left hand was sticky with semen and he made a grimace, feeling both devastated and disgusted with himself. What had he been thinking? Nothing he ever did or touched would bring him closer to Edward.
He stood up and went to the bathroom, washed his hands off and went back to bed again. But no matter how much he tried, sleep didn't come to him that night.
The following days he spent working again together with his old rocket team, which were all pleased to have him back. He was vague with answering all the questions of where he had been and what he had been doing and where Edward had gone, and the guys seemed to accept it like that. While he was away in the day, Alphonse spent his time reading or taking small trips to the library. Al was leisurely learning more and more about this new world, and he had silently grown to accept that he wouldn't come back to his own world again.
Al still didn't particularly like this world. There had been countless wars through the years; people were fighting over religion and skin colour, and overall political differences. There were also many similarities between the Ishbal War and the Great War. Both of them had lasted for seven years, and both had been a massacre.
Friday morning he had woken up early, listening to Alfons getting ready for work and then leave the apartment. Al began to get used to hanging around alone around the flat. Only a few times getting a visitor he sometimes would've preferred to not have.
"You can't sleep?" Schiller asked. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his stubble cheeks.
Al shifted onto his side and sighed. "No, I have too much on my mind."
"You two seem to get along much better lately," Schiller noted. "Do you remember anything?"
"No, it's still very blank in some places," Al replied. "I don't think I'll ever get them back. But Heiderich has told me about most of it."
Schiller nodded. "You haven't told him about the seventeenth, have you?"
Al pulled his covers a little higher up to his nose. There would be a full moon soon. Only three days left. "Of course not... There's no way I can tell him anything."
"Why not? You don't know what might happen. I know Alfons Heiderich would do everything he can to help you."
"There's nothing he can do," Al said in a low voice. "He'll just be in the way... Most likely he'll do everything to stop me from going. But if I don't do what Dietrich says, he'll hurt someone. He threatened to kill Heiderich. I can't take any risks."
"You'll already take a risk by going on your own," Schiller pointed out. "I don't want you to become harmed."
Al sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'll think of something." He still had three days left. It was plenty of time to come up with some sort of plan.
With all of his father's books to read, Al made the weekend go suitably fast by reading them, even discovering something new and interesting about them. It was Sunday night, and he was sitting together with Alfons by the kitchen table, eating some leftover dinner from earlier meals they had had the first week they had lived together. With one of the books sprawled open on the table, Al brightened up.
"Some of the books seem to be coded," he said excitedly. "I've noticed a lot of small black dots in the text which has to be some kind of message from my dad."
Alfons paused his eating without much of a vocal reply.
"Hopefully I can find out more of the Gate and maybe about how alchemy is used in this world," Al mused.
Uncomfortably, Alfons cast a long glance onto the book Al was reading. "Edward had a coded book in Amestris too," he admitted. "It was from the same stock."
Al looked up. "Oh, I think I remember he mentioned that. But he never told me what it said."
Alfons' eyes darkened. "It said that two parallel people can't live in the same world."
Al had just taken a sip of water, but inconveniently coughed it up over half of the kitchen table. "It said what?"
Alfons rose calmly and fetched a paper towel, handed it to Al and sat back down again. "It didn't bring the best of news, no. That was the reason why the Gate was erasing me from people's memories."
Al stared horrified at him. "Then... will the same happen to me?"
Alfons shook his head. "No. This case is different. The Gate had somehow chosen me to be its human container, or something like that. So it probably didn't want people to remember me. When Edward switched places with me, it was to get you here safely too. Anyway, the coded book also said something about alchemy in this world."
"What is that?"
"It's unbalanced," Alfons said. "Objects in general can't be moved from one world to another without disturbing this balance and the same counts for alchemy itself. It doesn't belong here. There will be bad consequences for the ones who use it."
Al remembered that Edward had said something like that too, in the heat of being captured by Thule Society and trying to get Dietlinde Eckart to see some sense of reason. "Oh, that's right..." Al mused.
Dietlinde Eckart had said that the power source could strike various people in this world and make them capable of doing alchemy. And then Dietrich had showed up and said partly the same thing. But these 'consequences' could hurt the ones capable of using it, or make the alchemy unstable. He couldn't help wondering. Maybe there actually were other people out there who could do alchemy in this world, without even knowing it yet?
"Please, Al, just forget about it," Alfons tried half-heartedly. "Those codes never lead to any good news, at least not so far."
"But I'm curious and this is the only source I got," Al stated. "Besides, he's been referring a lot to another book in these codes." He stared down at the book. Every letter in front of a small dot could be put together into a new meaning.
"Another book?" Alfons echoed.
"Yes, like a notebook," Al elaborated. "Everything he's referred to in these codes seem to have a connection to it, though I can't remember seeing any notebook among the stock of all the other ones." He rested his cheek in his palm with a silent groan. "Still I'll look over again tomorrow to be sure, or see if it's hidden somewhere else. I need to find it to understand the real meaning."
"Ah," Alfons commented, pretending not to know what he was talking about and took a sip of water before standing up from the table. He cleared off his finished plate and brought it to the sink where he rinsed it with cold water. He knew for sure, Al would never find that notebook, and he ought to leave it at that.
The next morning Alfons went to work as usual. Before he left, his eyes fell on the calendar hanging over the stove and he had a strange feeling lurking in his stomach. It was the seventeenth. He didn't want to leave Al alone, not knowing what he might be up to. Still, he left anyway. He wanted to trust that Al wouldn't do anything stupid. Still he wondered, what was so special about the full moon? Edward had never mentioned anything about it to him before.
It was a busy day at work. The rocket they were currently developing was a completely new prototype, where they were experimenting with use of liquid propellants capable of reaching both higher altitudes and distances than former models.
He was looking over a problem with one of the engines when Falman joined his side to help. "It's starting to look like something, isn't it?"
"Indeed," Alfons agreed. "Although, it would've been nothing without you. You're the one who makes the boat float."
Falman gave him a side-glance, appreciating the sentiment. "How is it being back, Alfons?" he asked.
Alfons returned a faint smile, drying his oiled hands on a rag. "I'm glad I could continue working here," he said. "But I… I wish Edward was here too."
"So do I," Falman said. "He was a very bright kid. I hope he'll pull through."
Alfons turned back to the engine again. "Al is sure that he will…"
"Aren't you?"
Alfons didn't answer.
"Hey," Falman put a hand on his shoulder. "Edward isn't just smart. He's strong too. You know that even better than I do. You should believe in him."
"I do believe in him…" Alfons wished he could sound more convincing. He did believe in Edward, after all. But not even Edward had won against the Gate…
"How is it going with you and Alphonse?" Falman asked, kindly changing the subject.
"Good, I think. Although, I think he's hiding something from me," Alfons admitted.
"Well, he probably doesn't feel accustomed to everything yet," Falman said. "You should give him some time and then maybe in time you won't even have to ask him. He'll tell you when he's ready for it."
"Maybe you're right," Alfons said. Although, he hoped he was just paranoid and that everything would be like normal when he got home.
Streams of sun poked through the curtains of the bedroom widow, rousing Al out of a deep sleep. The moment he opened his eyes, the thought of which day it was brought his mind into a stream of thought. It was the seventeenth, and there would be a full moon. Today he might be able to perform an alchemical transmutation again. He didn't know if it would actually work, but he had felt something when he tried the first time. That had to count for something.
If only a small one, it was a possibility that could lead him significantly closer to his brother.
Al stood up from bed and stepped over to the window, staring out at the vivid sky. There were some clouds, but it was still too bright to see the moon. Still, he turned back to the desk and found his brother's finished transmutation circle.
With a deep breath, centring his mind on the circle, he clapped and touched it. He hadn't hoped for too much, knowing that it was a large chance of disappointment. There was no spark, no reaction happening. But his hands… His heart beat faster in his chest as he felt the heat spreading through his palms. His hands grew warm like holding them over smouldering flames.
Slowly, he lifted his hands off the sheet and watched them in awe. His hands were burning and flowing with invisible energy. It didn't hurt, it felt rather good. Though, it didn't take many seconds before the heat died down and his hands felt normal again.
Still, it had been some sort of reaction nonetheless. Al felt even more excited. Maybe alchemy would start to work for real once the full moon was visible from the sky. He hoped his theory was correct.
He stepped into the kitchen, his heart still beating loudly, and readied himself some breakfast. His mind circled around his meeting with Dietrich tonight, wondering what he should do. There was no way he could just not show up. There was no saying what Dietrich might do if Al didn't obey him. Al felt a little nervous, but his mind was set.
Alfons half expected Al not to be home when he came from the factory that afternoon, but to his light surprise he found the younger bronze-haired boy sitting in the kitchen with a book sprawled on the table and reading while eating a sandwich.
"Hi," Alfons greeted suspiciously as Al looked up and waved.
"I'm sorry for eating right before dinner but I was reading the whole day and got hungry," Al explicated fast in one breath.
"That's alright," Alfons said, slightly taken-aback. "I'll just make a sandwich too and then we can have dinner later."
"Great!" Al beamed.
Something was definitely not right. Alfons didn't even know why he was suspicious. If Al was up to something, he would've had plenty of time alone while he was gone. He stepped over to the counter to make himself some food. "So, did you read anything more about this world?" he asked artlessly.
"Yeah, I've been studying some geography and compared it to my world," Al said.
"Really?" Alfons said.
"M-m. The shape of Germany kind of reminds me of the shape of Amestris, and there's a town here called Regensburg at pretty much the same spot as Resembool is in my world. I thought the names resembled each other, so I wondered if we could go there sometime." Al smiled faintly. "Maybe places are parallel too, and that Regensburg looks like Resembool."
Alfons sat down by the table with a sandwich on a plate, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. That was pretty interesting. He wondered if Edward had ever noticed. "Sure we can go there sometime," he said. "I haven't been there myself, so I don't know exactly what it looks like."
"Brother will come with us too," Al said.
Alfons smiled dimly. "I hope so."
That would've been just perfect...
Later that evening, Al went to the hall and put on his boots and brown coat. Before Alfons could ask, he said: "I'm going to the library, it won't take long."
"The library is closing in half an hour," Alfons said. "Shouldn't you wait until tomorrow?"
"It's not that far," Al said. "I'll make it, and I'll be right back."
Alfons couldn't really refuse him to leave the house, even if he had a bad feeling. "Okay," he said. "I'll start cooking some dinner when you get back then."
"Sounds good. Bye!" Al disappeared out the door, and Alfons cast a long stare out of the kitchen window at the clear night sky where the full moon shone brightly.
"Please tell me I'm overreacting," Alfons muttered to himself. "I'm paranoid. Nothing's wrong." But his imaginary Edward neither denied nor approved it as facts. If Edward had really been there with them, he would probably have demanded Al to tell him the real truth.
Al's dish was left on the table and Alfons picked it up and stepped over to the sink with it while trying to keep convincing himself that he had no reason to follow after Al. As he was about to put the plate down, he noticed a line carved into the white porcelain, like it had been broken in half and then glued back together. Though, there were no traces of glue. Alfons studied the plate carefully, wondering how that had happened.
It couldn't have been repaired with—?
His breath hitched as he felt something strangely warm against his hip and drew his hand down into his pocket, picking up the little red stone from the deposit box that he always kept close to him. He held it on the flat of his palm, seeing it glowing brightly and glittering in the dark and a light shudder of anxiety raced down his spine.
The crimson stone was reacting to something. Red light reflected in his eyes as he lifted his gaze back towards the bright moon and muttered some curses under his breath. "Shit..."
The pure white snow was gleaming in the light of the moon as Alphonse wandered calmly down the streets of Munich towards the main town bridge. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his large coat, and the hood was pulled over his head, hiding his ponytail. It was still only a quarter to eight, giving him exactly fifteen minutes of agitating anticipation from what this man called Dietrich really wanted with him.
Alphonse had mixed feelings about this situation. He knew it was probably a dangerous clue, but he didn't want to miss out on it either. Maybe his good heart gave his gullibility time to roam free, which he knew were one of his weak sides, but this man could possibly know things valuable to him. If they could somehow work together, he would definitely be a step closer to his brother. That was what mattered the most. Though, if Dietrich's intentions were anything but good at heart, Al would be in big trouble and of course not involve himself any further with the man. Dietrich had threatened to kill someone after all, he couldn't look past that fact. Therefore, he had decided to remain cautious, but first listen to what the man had to say.
The bridge was large, with both a sidewalk and a road into the centre of the city. A couple of automobiles passed by Al from the bridge as it came into view. But there were hardly any people walking out at this hour, probably because of the awfully low temperature.
He stepped onto the sidewalk of the broad bridge, his hands still resting inside the warm pockets of his winter coat, and he stopped. In the middle section of the bridge stood a man dressed in a long white coat and bowler hat, waiting next to his automobile, smoke oozing up from his cigarette and dissolving in the air.
Al stood still for a moment, his back straight and his palms feeling clammy inside his pockets. There was perhaps a minute of distance between him and the man, and he was nervous. He didn't have either metal armour or his brother around to protect him; he had to admit it had always been convenient in the past to have either of the alternatives. He almost flinched when the man ahead raised a hand and waved, signalling him to come over.
Right now, Al just wanted to go back, but it was too late. If he turned, the man would simply drive after him and he couldn't outrun an automobile. Not even in all this snow.
He pulled himself together and started walking again, his eyes rigorously fixed towards the man. He didn't stop or say anything before he was at a range of three meters from the man.
Dietrich took his cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling the smoke from his nose. "I'm glad you came, Alphonse. Now, are you ready to show me?"
"Show you what?" Al asked, even if he already knew what he meant.
Dietrich smiled. "Come here." He reached out his hand. "It's a prime full moon," he unnecessarily elaborated. "Just like your father has described. One of Amestrian origin and a few chosen ones of this world are able to do alchemy today."
Al was vaguely reluctant on moving closer, and remained standing still at his spot. "Is that all you want?" he inquired. "For me to show you?"
"No," Dietrich said, approaching a step. With predatory eyes he went on: "I want to help you get your brother back. In exchange, I want you to help me find these chosen ones. You already knew that before you came here, and you came. Which means, deep down you want to do it and you know it. So what do you say, shall we take a ride?"