Aevium has written a one shot called "Images of a Soul" which I recommend to all of you. It uses my own story line during The Wrong World and gives a deeper insight. The side story takes place between chapter 3 and 4. There's a link in my profile. ;)
Warning: There will be non-con in later chapters (much later). I will come with a further warning when the time comes, just thought you should know.
CHAPTER 5: BLOODSHED
"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?"
The offer was pretty simple. It consisted of something Al wished to do most in the world, while also something he didn't wish to do at all.
At least this confirmed his suspicions that there could be others out there. Chosen ones. He couldn't help being curious about that part. But wouldn't the performance of alchemy in this world disturb this balance his father, brother and even Alfons Heiderich had spoken so much about? Especially if people from this world were to do alchemy.
Still, it was obvious what weighed the most in Al's books. Nothing would ever become a higher priority to him than getting his older brother back. Dietrich definitely knew something. He had an incomplete philosopher's stone, after all. Tonight was the only night in a long time he might have a chance to get his brother back. After the full moon was gone, it would be too late. The red stones could be exactly what Al needed to be able to reopen the Gate. But he didn't know if it would be wise to do it with help from red stones, after all.
Long ago he and his brother decided not to use the souls of other humans to become normal, and he still wanted to live by that rule. But what if the stone was essential in this world to be able to open the Gate? He didn't know what method his brother had used when he opened it in this world. Would it be that wrong to use the stone? At least these lost souls would have a place to go to, and they wouldn't have died for nothing. Al was terribly unsure about what was the right ethical thing to do.
"What will it be, Alphonse?" Dietrich interrupted his train of thought. "Your brother is waiting for you somewhere, isn't he? I've heard that this Gate is really magnificent. It could store him up for years, but the longer you wait, even longer time itself will feel for your brother, right? If he stays in there too long, will he be the same when he returns?"
Al took a nervous breath. "I know my brother. He's stronger than anyone else. If anyone can pull through something like that, it's him."
As the words settled between them, Alphonse noticed some slight movement from the backseat inside of the automobile standing nearby and became even more wary. There were two of them? Another one who knew about everything? The figure was merely a dark contour of someone he couldn't identify.
"Who is that?" Al asked.
"Just a friend of mine," Dietrich replied shortly. "You'll get to know him if you come with us. Have you made up your mind?"
Al hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes... I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
Something darkened in the man's eyes. "And why is that?" He approached another step.
Al backpedalled, knowing he needed to prepare more. He needed an array, a proper and hidden place to perform the transmutation, something to give up in exchange. Tonight was too short for all that. It would be a complicated transmutation. However, this world was real enough now that he knew he could use alchemy, and he knew when. It would take some time before his next chance would come, but by then he would be ready.
"I will find a way to bring him back on my own," he declared. "I'm sorry, but it'll be unsafe for either you or anyone else to get close to alchemy. The Gate is magnificent yes, but it's also the most dangerous thing that exists."
Before he could move away, Dietrich abruptly gripped the collar of his jacket and pulled him close like hauling in a fish. Al gasped a bit and cringed away from the grin splitting across the man's face.
"Ah, are you worried for me? Isn't that cute." His grip tightened and Al winced. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't regret it," Dietrich went on. "I'm a gentleman really, but if you refuse..." He let the threat hang in the air among the frosty mist of his breath.
Al's eyes hardened. Without a word, he quickly clapped his hands and felt the familiar flow of energy surge through his body like warm sun streams through a magnifying glass, burning stronger from the tips of his fingers and creating sparkles of blue and white. The bright lightening shaped by the powerful energy shot down all around them, startling Dietrich enough to let go of him and propel backwards. From the looks of it, this was the first time he had seen alchemy for real.
Al didn't waste any time, and as Dietrich stared in awe at the visualized blue glints of energy, he pressed his hands into the snow on the ground. Using the snow, he built a thick wall that grew taller than himself across the road of the bridge, making it impossible to drive an automobile over it unless the man used some time to dig his way through.
"I'm sorry. Leave us alone, please!" Al called, then whipped around and darted into a run.
"Alphonse!" the man yelled after him. "Stop! Come back here, I'm not finished talking with you!"
Al ignored him and kept running. As he reached the end of the bridge he turned around to look over his shoulder, noticing that the man had abandoned his auto and had chose to follow him. That hadn't been what Al had hoped he would do. He had hoped the man would give up on him and leave. Clearly, he had to come up with something better.
Deciding quickly, he made a sharp turn to the right by the end of the bridge and headed down the steeping way towards the river in snow deep enough to reach him to the hips, hoping that Dietrich wouldn't follow him down there. The way was so steep that he almost tumbled forward into a living snowball.
"Where are you going, Alphonse?" the man called behind him, sounding amused. "If you think that ice will hold you—"
Al ignored him and reached the end of the ground and kept running on the broad iced river. It was much easier to run now because of the uneven ice, even if his pants were soaked with frozen snow and his feet numb by the cold. He was already far away from Dietrich, who didn't seem to want to follow him onto the river. Al saw him give up on following him and turn back.
He sighed in relief, as he kept running fast. At least he had lost the man. Maybe everything might work itself out now. He didn't need that man any more than he needed Alfons Heiderich. He would get his brother back on his own.
But, he soon found a new problem. The ice was indeed not safe. It was thin, and in several places much darker because of the cold water shining through it. Al slowed down a little, and avoided the most critical spots. He would climb back up one of the sheer steeps when he considered it safe enough to go back to the city. The thought that Dietrich might be waiting for him at home still nagged the back of his mind, but on the other hand, for all Dietrich knew he could be headed to the police station first. That would probably be the wisest thing to do, after all.
Suddenly a loud crack sounded beneath his foot, and Al literally froze. A large split formed in the ice between his feet, and he let out a cry as his leg went through the layers of ice. With his knee bent and his other leg getting pierced by the blades of cold, icy water, Al leaned forward and carefully managed to pull his leg up from the hole. His entire leg had gone numb, and his boot felt heavy.
The ice started to crack all around him and with a quick gasp, Al clapped his hands together and pressed them against the ice. Blue sparkles danced over the surface of the ice as Alphonse solidified it beneath his palms, making it safe to move on.
Al couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. He was doing alchemy in the other world! Real alchemy. Even without using his blood as a source. The plate he had accidentally broken earlier and then put back together hadn't been perfect, as the alchemy felt more exhausting to perform in this world than his own. It had been hard to do it at first, but he felt like he was getting the hang of it now. If his brother had seen this, he would've been full with excitement and pride. Al could hardly wait to show it to him one day. He let out a long, relieved breath.
Feeling rather good about himself, he found a good place to climb back up from the river, despite having a leg that literally felt like a massive ice cube.
It was first after that he noticed that he was in a complete different part of the city. He had never been there before, and it was probably the total opposite direction from the library where he had told Alfons he was heading. Neither did he know which direction the police station was. The clock was already long past eight, and if he didn't return soon Alfons would start to suspect that something was wrong.
He sighed deeply. What a stupid mess. He just wanted to get back home and get back to some warmth by the fireplace.
Al decided to follow the river back to the bridge to be sure he wouldn't get entirely lost. However, someone else had already beaten him to that idea. He recognized Dietrich's automobile at a long distance before it reached him, but it was already too late. They must have seen him too. Likely they had driven the auto the opposite way off the bridge and crossed another bridge to get to the same side of the river he would be. Not good.
Al whipped around again and made a run for it in the opposite direction. Would it never end? What in the world was Dietrich really intending? What would he do to Al if he caught up to him? Al had a bad feeling that he would get really lost if he didn't get rid of his follower. The thought of being kidnapped again didn't actually sound very appealing. He could of course put up a fight, even if the odds weren't exactly good. Dietrich had his automobile now, plus the fact that he was much bigger and Al was already freezing cold to his bones. It would be easy for the man to drag him into the vehicle and drive away.
The automobile horn honked behind him.
Al was starting to sense the claws of defeat stretching after him. He was tired and his legs were giving up. His wet clothes were about to freeze stuck to his skin. His mouth tasted of blood and his lungs struggled to absorb the icy air. He couldn't take it anymore. Eventually Al stopped up and panted after his breath, leaning forward on his knees.
The automobile stopped as well at some distance behind him, and the white-suited man stepped out. Still wheezing, Al turned around in a defeated manner, and watched Dietrich walking calmly closer.
"Enough now," Dietrich said. "Come with me, Alphonse. I'll take good care of you, and you will have all the freedom you want once you help me."
Al didn't believe that for a second, but he didn't say anything.
"Your alchemy was amazing," Dietrich complimented. "I've never seen anything like it. It could even help people, right?"
"People like you?" Al asked, teeth gritting from the cold.
"No, people like you," Dietrich corrected. "But you're special, Alphonse."
"I'm not special," Al said. "If there really are people out there like me, they're better off never knowing about alchemy."
"You're wrong. Aren't you using this gift to save your brother?" The older man stretched his hand out and stopped a couple of meters from Al, the small red stone resting in his hand and glowing brightly in a soft hue of scarlet. "Come with me and it's yours."
Al stared at it while still breathing heavily, frosty air drawing from his lungs and decorated the air among him. It was almost like he could feel invisible strings pulling him towards the red stone, given that the chance of escaping had neglected him anyway. The stone could bring Edward back. And he couldn't risk that Dietrich wouldn't kill someone if he didn't do as he said...
Suddenly another familiar, black automobile came into an abrupt halt behind Al, and a door opened on the passenger side.
"Al!" a voice called loudly.
Al whipped around towards the voice, seeing Alfons Heiderich in the front seat and leaning over the passenger seat to hold the door up on his side.
"Get into the car!" Alfons ordered.
Al only hesitated for a second before complying. He quickly ran across the sidewalk and leaped into the automobile and slammed the door shut.
Alfons stepped on the gas pedal and the vehicle accelerated fast forward, quickly leaping ahead into a high speed.
The younger boy gave out a small sigh and twisted his head around to stare after the man standing left behind on the sidewalk. Al had just about enough time to see the steely eyes narrow and a slight grin forming on his features. Turning back with a shudder, Al avoided meeting Alfons' hard stare.
"What were you doing out here?" Alfons demanded as his eyes fixed back on the road, but kept his voice stern.
"Calm down!" Al retorted. "You don't have to get angry at me."
"I'm not so sure," Alfons replied sharply. "Why did I catch you accompanying that man again? I thought I told you to stay away from him. And... why are you all wet?"
"I went through some deep snow," Al muttered. "And he wanted to talk to me."
"What?" Alfons clutched a little tighter around the wheel. "What the hell does he want with you? You're aware that he's bad news, I hope? Why did you even accept to meet with him?"
Al bit his teeth together. He didn't want to lie, but still it took some willpower to swallow his pride enough to be honest. "On some occasions, alchemy works in this world. Today is a day like that, and he wanted me to teach him how to do it. In exchange he wanted to help me getting back my brother."
Alfons' jaw went slack. "Al..." He didn't know what to say. He was still angry, even if he didn't want to be. "You can't trust that man," he said. "I just know it, he's got Thule Society written all over him. He had Envy's red stone."
"So did my father," Al said. "And even if he worked with them, he wasn't a bad person. Anyway, how did you know where I was?"
Alfons went quiet for some seconds and stared intently straight forward. "I don't know... A feeling."
"A feeling?" Al asked sceptically. "What are you, a psychic?"
"It didn't take much guessing to figure out that you weren't going to the library at least," Alfons retorted. "When did this man tell you to meet him anyway?"
"It was in the grocery store," Al confessed.
"What?" Alfons burst out. "It sounds to me like he's stalking you and is up to no good."
"Don't be ridiculous," Al replied crossly. "He was just interested in alchemy, that's all."
Al caught himself after he had said the words. Why was he defending Dietrich when he was really feeling the same way about him? He wasn't up to anything good at all, Al could easily tell. Involving himself with that man had been a very bad idea. Still, he was frustrated over the fact that Heiderich was right when he in general had no clue. Most of all Al was frustrated over Alfons' obvious reluctance to acknowledge that he could bring Edward back.
"We can't take any unnecessary risks," Alfons said. "Alchemy is a power too great to be used in this world, especially by people connected with the Thule Society. Are you sure you're able to use it?"
"I used it alright," Al muttered. "I transmuted a wall of snow and solidified ice on the river."
"And... the plate back home?" Alfons asked, his voice softening.
"Yes."
Alfons went silent for a long time. Eventually he stopped the automobile and stepped out. "Come," he just said.
Al stepped slowly out of the vehicle as well and closed the door. He didn't recognize this street, but he could tell that it wasn't very far from Vato Falman's neighbourhood.
Alfons stopped in front of him with a serene expression. "Can you show me?"
Al hesitated for a second before nodding. "Yeah." He clapped and kneeled down to touch the ground. Familiar blue sparkles shot up right before Alfons' eyes (oh how it reminded him of Edward to a point it almost hurt) and the alchemic reaction melted the snow beneath Al's hands.
After the reaction died down, Al straightened up again and gave Alfons an expectant look. Now he had proven that he could do it. Maybe Heiderich would finally change his mind? Maybe he would now see that he had what it took to bring Edward back?
"Al," Alfons said slowly. "You can't use alchemy ever again."
Al's jaw dropped to the pavement. "What?"
"You heard me," Alfons said.
"But it's the only thing that can bring my brother back!" Al protested loudly.
"No, it cannot," Alfons disputed shortly. "Nothing good will come out of it, and this man knows that you have this power. If this knowledge comes out further, you'll be in even more danger. That's how it is, and I don't really want to have this discussion right now—"
"But—"
"—so no buts!"
Al shut his mouth and simply glowered angrily at him, his clenched fists shaking at his sides. He couldn't believe this. Alfons had no right to decide that...
"This way," Alfons continued, and stepped hurriedly towards the house they had stopped by.
"Who lives here?" Al asked sullenly.
"Someone who can help us." Alfons knocked on the door. A few moments later, Officer Hughes opened the door.
"Oh, if it isn't the two Als," he greeted cheerfully. "What a nice surprise!"
"I'm sorry for showing up this late, sir," Alfons said. "But we have a small problem."
"I'm always here for you, come in," Hughes said kindly.
Gracia was in the living room as well, knitting something next to the warm fireplace. "Hi Alfons and Al," she said with a smile. "Are you doing okay?"
"They said they were having a problem," Hughes said. "Sit down and tell me all about it."
"I'll make some cocoa," Gracia said, sending Al a worried look. "You look like you're freezing."
"It's fine, but thanks," Al said, feeling a little embarrassed.
Alfons dropped down on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. "There's a guy who is after Al."
Hughes frowned. "After him?" He turned to Al. "Has he done something to you or harmed you?"
"No," Al said, as the truth was.
"He's stalking him," Alfons shot in.
"He didn't stalk me," Al protested.
"Then explain why he's been showing up everywhere lately," Alfons challenged. "And I'm pretty sure he's armed."
Al didn't have a suitable reply to that.
"Could you describe him for me?" Hughes tried, scratching his temple.
Al sat down in a chair with a small sigh. "His first name is Dietrich; I don't know his last name. Tall, long dark hair in a ponytail, a long white coat and a bowler hat."
Hughes noted it down. "What did he say to you?"
"He wanted to meet me..." Al hesitated. "He threatened to hurt someone if I didn't show up."
He noticed Alfons staring intently at him. He hadn't told him about that until now, and neither had he told him that Dietrich had more specifically threatened to hurt Alfons. But admitting that out loud was the same as agreeing that Alfons had been right about everything, which he wasn't!
"That sounds quite serious to me," Hughes said. "Why did he want to meet you?"
"He knows that I'm from another world," Al said. "He wants to know more about it or something. There were two of them tonight, but the other just sat in the auto, so I didn't see his face." He left out everything about the alchemy, and Alfons looked pleased with that.
Maes Hughes nodded. "I will see what I can do. Hopefully, this Dietrich will be easily recognizable and we'll bring him in for some questioning."
"Thank you, sir," Alfons said.
Al avoided the other's eyes and sank a little deeper down in his chair. Clearly, Heiderich would keep refusing to understand. But that didn't mean that he had anything to say in the matters concerning it. Alfons Heiderich might be the only connection he had to his world, but Al was his own person and had the right to make his own decisions. He settled with that thought in mind.
He hadn't slept much that night. By the next morning the taboo alchemy-topic they had discussed yesterday had still not been brought up again. In exchange there was a huge tension between them which made Alfons feel awkward and uncomfortable wherever he went in the apartment. It was Saturday and he had the day off, even though he would've preferred to go to work. Al was silent and every lame attempt Alfons did to encourage a conversation was responded to with monotone one syllable sentences.
Maybe he was acting a little bit unfair. Al's alchemy was as great as his brother's had been, and Al was careful. But Alfons would never deny him anything without good intentions behind it, didn't that count for something too? They were in the wrong world!
He opened the newspaper by the kitchen table with a cup of strong coffee next to him. He'd need it unless his willpower to stay awake ran out, and let himself succumb to the temptation of sleeping off the entire weekend to make time go faster. He felt so pathetic. He couldn't function properly anymore...
There was a chaos of headlines on the front page. His eyes scanned idly trough the articles. Apparently there had been some sort of accident last night. Several people had been killed in a huge explosion, possibly a gas blast. But the investigators weren't completely sure what had caused it yet.
Alfons rested his head in palm and sipped some coffee. It didn't taste any good at all—still he drank it anyway. Every time it came to drinking something, Edward had said: "We waste not!"
The door to Al's bedroom opened and his younger roommate shuffled across the living room floor to the kitchen. He was still dressed in Edward's old pyjama and his bronze hair hang loosely down his back.
"I made eggs for you," Alfons said.
"Ah," Al muttered tediously, picked out a glass from the cabinet above the counter, poured some orange juice, and then trailed back to his room without touching eggs or food.
Alfons sighed and wanted to throw himself out the window and drown in the huge pile of snow beneath. What was he doing wrong? He was trying the best he could! With a groan Alfons let his head drop down in his arms on the table flat. He just wanted to sleep.
Al dropped down on the floor, Indian style, with his glass of juice and stared idly at the prosthetic arm lying in front of him. Alfons had tucked most of the things that had belonged to Edward into his bedroom, most of his clothes and all of his spare prosthetics, to give Al some space. But Al had snuck into his room while he was at work the other day and brought one set of his brother's prosthetics back.
"You've been quite miserable lately," Schiller noted. "Aren't you going to try squaring up with him? He's your only friend in this world, after all." He was seated comfortably on Al's bed and studied the cover of a book lying there next to him.
"No," Al muttered. "There's no use. And you're wrong." He had started to become accustomed to Schiller's presence. He had been showing up a lot lately, especially after Alfons Heiderich had decided to take over his whole life, which was probably the reason why he felt so miserable all the time. "He's not my friend because he wants to be. Maybe we were once, but everything is different now."
Al put down the glass of juice and picked up a screw driver. Then he started to take the prosthetic arm apart from each other, bit by bit. Occasionally he was scribbling down some notes under the sketch he had already drawn of the arm.
Schiller leaned closer, curiously studying what he was doing. "Can I ask you, kiddo, why exactly are you taking that prosthetic apart?"
Al looked up and smiled brightly at him. "It's pretty simple really. My brother will need new prosthetics when he comes back, and I want to improve them for him. These are quite heavy and restricted compared to Winry's automail. Even if I spent most of the time separated from my brother to train and look for him, I also spent some time with Winry. While being around her, it isn't possible to not pick up a few things about metal limbs."
Schiller scratched his stubble chin. "I see. You're really sure your brother will be back, aren't you?"
"Of course I am," Al said matter-of-factly. "I won't simply sit around and mourn and do nothing, unlike someone else I know." He returned to what he was doing, removing the front plate of the forearm and studied the connection of wires. "Although, since I can't bring him back before the next prime moon, I have to do what I can in the meantime. I've started to work on an array as well. The problem is to find a good place to draw and activate it. It has to be big, like the one in Thule Society's hideout in my world."
Schiller scoffed. "Be sure to keep that power away from everyone else. If anyone sees it, they'll just want it."
"I've already experienced that," Al said darkly. "More than once."
Schiller was silent for a couple of minutes, watching him work. It didn't seem like it was bothering the boy, after all. If Alphonse didn't want him around, he'd of course leave. But he would have no places to go. The drawing against Al's strong feelings was pulling at his soul by an invisible force, like a magnet. Sometimes the magnet was negative and pushed him away, letting him draw back into his own dimension of darkness. But other times, like now, Al's determination and frustration was drawing him close and keeping him present.
It wasn't anywhere close to being alive, but he didn't mind.
After some time Al had stopped working and was regarding him closely, pulling the older man out of his trance.
"Do you ever rest in peace when you're not here?" Al asked.
Schiller relaxed forward with his elbows on his knees. "If I said yes, I would be lying, kiddo. There's no place for me to rest."
Al cowered a bit, feeling terrible. It had to be awful for Schiller to be like this. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do? I know alchemy works now. Maybe there's a way you can..." Al halted in the middle of the sentence. His intention had been to say leave this world. But what if Schiller didn't want to leave? Munich was his home.
Schiller sensed his troubled expression. "I wish there was a way. I have nothing to do here. But I don't want you to risk yourself for me. You need to focus on getting your brother back."
"I'll keep it in mind anyway," Al said. "I want to help you." It was his fault that Schiller had ended up following him to his world. Unless he found a way for Schiller to go back to the Gate, his soul would keep wandering bodiless in this world, unable to interact or speak to anyone than him. It must be lonely, being like that.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door to his room, and Al stiffened a bit.
"Al, can I come in?" Alfons' voice asked.
"Sure," Al replied in a rather uninviting tone.
Alfons went inside and his eyes fell on the floor where Al kept his current obsession. Metal parts, screws and bolts and wires were sorted out in small heaps all around where Al was sitting, and the shell of the prosthetic spread in front of him. Alfons' eyes narrowed. "What is all this?"
Al shrugged. "My brother's prosthetic. Why?"
"Why have you taken it apart?" Alfons wanted to know. Somehow the sight of the hollowed metal limb horrified him.
"I'm just looking at it," Al persisted. "I was going to put it back together again."
"How?" Alfons was sceptic. "You've ruined it."
"Why do you care anyway?" Al shot out. "You don't even believe my brother will come back."
Alfons winced. No doubt Al had hit a nerve. "I'm not here to talk about that," he replied stiffly. "You should eat something."
"I'm not hungry," Al stated.
"You haven't eaten anything since dinner yesterday," Alfons pointed out crossly.
Al stood up abruptly and turned to him with flaming bronze eyes. "I don't want anything. Not from you, not from anyone! The only thing I want is my brother, and I'm going to take care of that myself. Stop bothering me, please!"
Alfons parted his lips to reply, but something made him stop before any vocal sound managed to slip past. He didn't understand any of this! Why wouldn't Al eat? He usually had an appetite akin to his brother's, and Alfons felt like he was failing on his responsibility for the youth. Or was it that he was completely unable to take care of Al at all?
"Get out!" Al shouted, and Alfons realized he had just been standing there and looked stupid for some seconds.
He turned in the doorway without a word and shuffled into the living room. The door was slammed shut behind him, and he let out a deep sigh. He shouldn't worry too much though. Al would eat when he was hungry. Simple as that.
The couch looked dreadfully alluring and Alfons let himself drop down on his stomach on it, wanting to sleep away some time, but his eyes stayed completely alert.
Inside his heart, Edward quirked an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," Alfons whispered. "Perhaps I can't do this after all."
"I will hear nothing of that," Edward stated. "He only needs some time, that's all. I didn't ask you to take care of him for me if I thought you couldn't do it."
"Will you come back?" Alfons asked.
Edward went quiet.
"Even my imaginary you can't say you'll come back," Alfons murmured. He had thought being heartbroken meant that someone's heart was broken. But he felt like he had literally broken every single bone in his body. He closed his eyes and let sleep take over his problems.
The days went by surprisingly fast until Christmas Eve. They didn't talk to each other much in particular, except for completely ordinary things that had nothing to do with the person they both missed. No one would've noticed the tension lying underneath, it was hardly even visible at all. Both Al and Alfons had inwardly decided to drop the whole subject. It was a temporary, but satisfying solution.
They hadn't heard anything from Hughes about Dietrich since the night Al had met with the man. Alfons figured that might as well be alright as well, as long as he didn't show up again. So far it didn't look like he would bother them anymore.
"We should get Gracia a Christmas present," Al said on their way to the grocery store in the early afternoon of Christmas Eve. The city was brightened up with Christmas decorations and lights on the trees along the streets. It seemed to get everyone, even Al, in a better mood.
"You're right about that," Alfons replied with a small smile. "What do you think she'd like?"
"I think she'll like anything, but maybe we should avoid buying flowers," Al pointed out.
Alfons chuckled. "Yeah, she's probably tired of them by now."
"How about a book or a set of china?" Al suggested.
"Those are good ideas."
They stopped by a couple of stores and in the end settled with a small set of Asian hand painted tea cups and tea pot.
The snow was still falling towards the evening from a sky lacking both moon and stars. Despite that, Maes Hughes' house smelled of a promising Christmas dinner and fir from the decorated Christmas tree. A small group of people were gathered around the table and chatted cheerfully as the turkey was served.
"I could see what you were knitting some minutes ago, Gracia, is there something you guys haven't told me?" Falman prodded with a smile.
"Well, I guess it's safe to say it by now," Gracia smiled back and looked at her fiancé. "Maes has been dying to give you the news since we found out a couple of days ago."
"I'm going to become a daddy!" Maes Hughes squealed like a teenager and could hardly sit still on his chair. "Can you believe that?"
"Congratulations," Alfons smiled.
"This is great news!" Falman said excitedly.
Al had brightened up a bit next to Alfons and was studying the faces of Gracia and Hughes of this other world. They looked just as happy as the couple he had once known in Amestris, a wonderful couple. "I wish you the best," he said.
"Thank you, Al," Gracia beamed. "It's still new to me, but we're both ready for this."
"I'm sure it will be a girl!" Hughes stated eagerly. "The most beautiful girl in the world, just like her mother."
"That is a little early to distinguish, dear," Gracia pointed out.
"I'm sure Hughes already has names figured out," Falman joked.
"I'm thinking either Alice or Elise," Hughes said.
Gracia looked a little sceptical. "My aunt is called Alice and she isn't very polite."
"How about Elysia?" Al threw out innocently.
"That's a beautiful name," Gracia acknowledged.
"Elysia, I love it! It's like she's already among us." Hughes stared begging at Gracia, like he was a little boy asking for candy.
"Well, we'll see when we know if it's a boy or girl," Gracia smiled.
Alfons cast a side-glance at Al's knowing smile, and he figured the Maes Hughes in the other world had had a daughter.
Later it was time to open presents and Gracia loved the tea set. Alfons handed a present to Al, knowing the younger hadn't expected him to and that Al likely hadn't gotten him anything. But that wasn't the point.
Al accepted the present hesitantly. "I didn't get you anything." Why would Heiderich even have bothered getting him anything, considering the tension between them lately?
"It's alright," Alfons said. "It's nothing big, but I've wanted to give you this anyway."
Al opened the wrapping paper and took out the book. He hadn't heard of the author, obviously enough, and stared curiously at the plain cover. It was simply a black cover with silver writing.
"This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald," Al read curiously. "What kind of book is it?"
"It was one of Edward's favourite books," Alfons said. "He read his own copy until all the pages fell out."
Al stared at the book for a long moment, before his eyes lifted to him again. He couldn't help but feel a bit touched. Alfons had given him something that reminded him of Edward. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Alfons said with a soft smile.
"I have some homemade presents for you too," Gracia said brightly. "Though it's not very much since the time was a bit short."
"You didn't have to get us anything," Alfons said humbly.
Gracia handed them each a present wrapped in red and white wrapping paper. They opened it at the same time, finding each a long scarf. Alfons' was blue and Al's was green.
"Thank you, Miss Gracia," Al said happily. He hadn't expected to get any presents at all, yet he had gotten two and some chocolate from Falman.
Gracia beamed. "I'm glad you like it." She gave Alfons a mild look and picked up a third present. "I knitted one in red for Edward. Will you give it to him for me when he comes back?" She handed the present to Alfons.
Alfons' hand lifted hesitantly, his chest immediately starting to knot itself. When Edward came back? Why didn't anyone say if? If Alfons got his hopes up in the sky the way everyone else had, wouldn't he be a hundred times more devastated if Edward never turned up? Or would he be living happier with more faith? He felt Al's sharp eyes from the side, and then nodded, accepting the gift. "I will," he replied a little flatly.
"Great," Gracia said. "I hope he'll like it too."
Alfons smiled a little forcibly. "I'm sure he will."
"I think he'll find a way," Falman said. "He's welcome to join the team once again too, whatever the case may be."
Al cast a glance at Alfons, noticing that he had drifted off for a bit and turned to Hughes. "I read something in the newspaper the other day, about what happened the same night we visited you. There was some kind of weird explosion?"
Hughes nodded. "Yeah, we don't know what caused it yet. Several people died, but we're still working on the investigation." He sent Al a slightly chary look. "Why? You don't think it could have a connection to the man who was after you, do you?"
Al shook his head. "No, I don't see how that can relate." He rather wondered if it was connected to the full moon...
"Now let's keep that serious talk away from the table on Christmas," Gracia interfered. "Who wants some Christmas cookies?"
After positive response from the men, she rose and went to the kitchen. Alfons sat on the floor still with the present in his hands and he had forgotten for a moment where he was while picturing Edward opening the present, smiling through a snort and swirling the red scarf around his neck.
"She didn't have to make me something, but tell her thanks."
"Alfons," Al said.
Alfons shook his head back to reality and stared at Al.
Al frowned, knowing that he spaced out for some seconds, but didn't mention it. "Can I talk to you outside?"
Alfons gave him a nod and they both rose. "We'll be right back," he addressed Hughes and Falman.
Outside it was dark and the air was frosty, but the clouds were drifting and the stars were finally starting to visualize their shimmers in the night.
They were standing outside on the porch wearing their news scarves and with their coats unbuttoned, given a great view over the neighbourhood and the pitch black sky. It reminded Alfons of the house they had owned in the other world, and how much he missed it. He cast Al a small glance, wondering what he wanted to talk to him about.
"Even if he's not here right now," Al started softly, "you still love him, right?"
Alfons turned to him in light surprise, though his eyes expressed the truthfulness akin to a child's. "With all my heart."
"I'll give you a Christmas present too," Al said.
Alfons stared puzzled at him. "You don't have to—"
"It'll be a bit belated, but... I'm going to bring my brother back to you," Al stated, turning to him with cheeks slightly flushed. "No matter what you say, I'm going to do it. If you don't like that present, you're not worthy of being together with him and besides, I think we got along much better when he was there."
Alfons was silent for a long time, a light form of shock written in his eyes. "Alphonse..." He was right about one thing... They had gotten along way better when Edward had been there.
"I want us to get along," Al said. "But for that to work you can't act like you can control what I do, or my alchemy."
Alfons let his eyes drop and didn't want to even consider stopping Al with force if he should ever try. He wanted to respect the wishes of both Edward and Al, but that clearly wasn't possible.
"I know, I'm really sorry for that, Al. I actually think it's great that you can do alchemy in this world. It's just that..." He let the words hang loosely in the air. He didn't want to ruin his only chance to square up with Al.
"I know. You're only abiding by my brother's wishes. You don't have to say anything more," Al said lightly. "Thank you for the book, by the way. I'm looking forward to reading it."
Alfons smiled gently, accepting the resolute words. "Edward didn't like this world when he first came here. But once he read that book, something about him changed. I think it changed his point of view. Instead of thinking of the two worlds as heaven and hell, he started to look for the good things about this world rather than resenting it entirely. It wasn't a full acceptance, because he was always determined to get back home, but he managed to make his time here worth it. He started to think of the whole universe as one, not two separate worlds. This world is just another side of paradise, just like Amestris was to us. Even if there are difficult times, there is always a place on earth where someone is happy. I guess that's a journey every living being is set out to do, and we're still searching for it."
Al was silent for a moment, letting the words sink. "That is true. My brother and I never stopped searching, even before. Only that some people vow their whole life to it, but they never find it. I think my brother gave up on his real journey to happiness when he stayed behind inside the Gate. He accepted his curse and left it at that. But the only reason I'm here is to not let him do that."
Alfons smiled. There was another long silence between them, as the each other's words echoed in their minds. Was he an idiot for not believing that Edward could be cured of that curse? Yes. But his rationality had always weighed more towards pessimism, he couldn't really help it. What if Edward was beyond the possibility of retrieval? What if Edward was simply dead? The dead could never return, not even with alchemy. Alfons knew that the brothers had tried, and it had failed tragically.
The call was Edward's. He trusted him. He would come back if he could, and if he couldn't... then that was the end.
Back inside, Gracia served Christmas cookies and Hughes and Falman told stupid jokes and discussed some plans for their big wedding.
Eventually it got late and Falman decided it was time to take off. "Do you boys want a ride home?" he offered.
"That would be nice," Alfons said.
"This has been a blast," Hughes said wholeheartedly and hugged around his fiancé's shoulders. "Why don't you all come over for dinner tomorrow too?"
"That sounds really great," Falman chuckled. "I could never say no to Gracia's cooking. I'll pick the boys up then too."
"Splendid!"
"Thanks for everything," Al said politely and bowed.
Gracia laughed and hugged him close as he straightened up again. "It's always a pleasure to have you here, Al. Come back tomorrow, okay?"
"Definitely," Al said with a smile.
After everyone had thanked for food and presents and said goodbye, the three of them climbed into Falman's automobile, and Falman drove them to their apartment above the flower shop.
"I'll be here sometime in the afternoon and pick you up," Falman said. "If you need anything, just tell me and I'll bring it tomorrow."
"We're fine, I think we have all we need," Alfons said. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Falman replied with a wave. "Goodnight, boys."
"Goodnight," Al and Alfons said in unison and stepped out of the automobile with a small laugh.
"Have you read the book?" Al wanted to know as they locked themselves inside the front door to the hall next to the flower shop.
"Yes, I read it while I went to the University," Alfons replied. "Actually, I was the one who introduced the author to your brother."
"Why did my brother like this book so much?" Al asked.
"I think he could identify himself with the character's life in solitude," Alfons answered. "And his search for happiness. Maybe even in God, though Edward never really warmed up to that prospect."
"Do you believe in God?"
Alfons smiled. Al was always so curious, but he didn't mind. "I have to admit my views changed a little bit after I met Edward. I do not believe there isn't a God, but now I believe in another world and in what I've seen."
"I see," Al said.
They headed up the stairs to the right floor and Alfons unlocked the door. "I'll probably go straight to bed," he admitted. "I'm all worn out."
"I'll be reading for a bit," Al said as they stepped inside. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, goodnight," Alfons replied.
Al brought his book and the chocolate into his room and put it on the desk. Then he turned to turn on the light, and jumped immediately back in light shock as he saw someone lying in his bed. The person lied turned away, long blond hair sprawled out on the pillow. On top of the covers rested a metallic prosthetic limb.
Al used some seconds getting his jaw into function again. "B... Brother..." His heart slammed against his chest in record speed as he sprinted three steps toward the bed and kneeled on top of it. "BROTHER, BROTHER!" He shook the person and turned his face around. "I can't believe that you're back!" It was around that point he noticed the truth and gasped out. It was not his brother lying in his bed.
Al jumped back again with a racing heart and his stomach doubled over like he was about to throw up.
At the same instant Alfons came hurriedly into his room. "Al, what is it? I heard—" He stopped dead.
Edward...? No, that wasn't him. A human sized doll was lying on Al's bed with one of Edward's prosthetic arms attached to it. It had a wig, long and blond like Edward's hair on its head. What the fuck...?
Slowly Alfons stepped closer to the doll and removed the covers hiding the body. The doll wore no clothes, but a metal leg was attached to it as well, probably been found in Alfons' bedroom. Instead of clothes, a message was written in red on the doll's chest. In blood...?
"He is rotting away in the deepest depths of the Gate..."
Alfons was trembling lightly as he managed to steer his eyes away from it and look back at Al. Alphonse looked like to be in the same state of shock as he was. His eyes had gone blank with unshed tears and he had backed as far as he could come into the bookshelf against the wall, his face pale white.
Al could hardly believe his own eyes. He was swallowing and swallowing, yet he felt like he would choke. His chest was knotting itself tightly, making breathing difficult.
"Al..." Alfons managed. "Who did this?"
"I don't know," Al whispered.
"Does the man called Dietrich know about Edward?" Alfons asked in a low voice.
"I think so. I guess," Al replied weakly.
"Is anything missing from your room?" Alfons asked again, a little tightly.
Al shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't know..." He couldn't take his eyes away from the bed, no matter how much he wanted to.
"I have to call Hughes," Alfons muttered. "This is..."
"I thought it was my brother," Al whispered. "I thought he had come back. That everything would be okay. I thought he was just sleeping..." The tears broke loose from his eyes and he huddled together, only supported by the shelf.
He had believed that Edward had returned and waited for them both to show up, so they could all be together and journey together again. For just some seconds he had thought about all that, and even faster it had all been ripped away. "But it wasn't him..." he rambled on. "It isn't my brother!"
Alfons stared at him and advanced slowly. "Al..."
Al stepped a little away from the shelf and swayed slightly. "I thought he was asleep." He had looked so real, but only because he had wanted him to be.
Before he knew it, he felt someone hug him tightly into his chest, and Al found himself simply standing there with wide eyes and arms lax at his sides.
Alfons closed his eyes and held Al close to him, stroked his back a little, his cheek pressing at the top of Al's bronze head. "It's okay," he whispered. "Everything will be okay." He cursed his own lack of ability to express any real soothing comfort to Al at this point, but to his defence he was pretty shaken up himself. He too had managed to think that one little optimistic thought before noticing what was wrong. Edward had almost been home... For just one second. And it had crushed them both.
Now, as he had gotten over the first traces of disappointment, anger was starting to evolve. Alfons felt furious. More furious than he could even make out. His fists tightened on Al's back and his shoulders trembled a little.
"Who the hell is this man?" he muttered. "He has to get caught, or I'll kill him."
Al lifted his head to stare up at him, fresh tears in his eyes. "He wants me to feel bad so I'll agree with helping him..."
"Well, that he can just forget about right now," Alfons stated. "I'm going to make sure he'll never bother you ever again."
Al wiped off his eyes as Alfons let his arms drop from him. "What are you going to do about it?" Al asked. "He knows exactly where we are."
"For now," Alfons said. "First we'll get rid of this thing off your bed, and then I'll call Hughes first thing in the morning."
"What if he comes back?" Al said shakily.
"I'll block the door with something," Alfons said. "You'll be safe."
Al doubted he would be able to sleep at all that night, but he guessed there was nothing more to be done tonight.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Alfons waited until morning with calling Hughes. It would've ruined Christmas Eve entirely for Hughes and Gracia, and that wasn't really fair to them. Before he had gone to bed that night he went through the entire house with a bat as a weapon, checking all closets and doors in the small apartment to make sure the visitor wasn't still there. Then he had hammered a plank in across the crack of the door and the wall to make sure no one could sneak in while they were asleep. Obviously just locking the door hadn't been of any use.
Al was still in his bedroom when Alfons picked up the phone and dialled the number the following morning. It was just nine o'clock, but still late enough for an emergency call.
"Hello!" Hughes answered in the other end, sounding strangely stressed already.
"Hughes? It's Alfons," Alfons said.
"Oh, Alfons, I'm sorry but I can't talk right now. I'm just on my way out. Apparently something has happened..."
"What?" Alfons said. Had anything more happened? "What is it?"
"I just got a call from the station. Someone called in and said they had found a body... Hopefully the information is wrong. I can't tell you much, I don't know for sure yet—"
"Who?" Alfons interrupted fast, almost demanding. "Who is it?" He had a terrible feeling that he knew the person. The long silence he received only made him more frightened. "Hughes?"
"Vato..." Hughes answered perturbed. "I think it's Vato Falman."