Wow, you guys, it's like I've been dead for a couple of months. Though, at least the story isn't dead. I hope you haven't forgotten about me. Enjoy the chapter!

By the way, check out the fanart for Amestris 1917: The Equivalent Bond Aevium has made for me, it's amazing. There's a link in my profile :)

CHAPTER 7: THE LETTER

It was an act of rage rather than rationality, Alphonse was well aware of that, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't want anything more to do with either this world or Alfons Heiderich. Maybe he could hide somewhere, far away, wait for a new prime moon and then open the Gate alone? No matter what happened, he didn't care. He wanted nothing else than to find his big brother. Maybe he could try to bring himself and Edward back to Amestris? That would be best. He didn't want to stay in this dark, sad and pitiful world for the rest of his life.

While Alfons Heiderich was long asleep, Al snuck out, leaving everything in the apartment behind except for his red coat, the green scarf Gracia had made for him for Christmas wrapped around his neck, some money and his cylindrical rod of chalk. Outside it was snowing and the clouds had blanketed the sky with thick cotton layers, though it didn't make this world any warmer.

The wind went straight through his red coat, even if he had buttoned it all the way and brought the hood over his head to cover his ears. The snow tickled on his cheeks and nose, and left echoing bites of frost on his skin.

He couldn't believe Alfons Heiderich! He was an idiotic coward and a selfish moron. Did he even care about Edward at all? Did he even want Edward to come back? Al hadn't the impression that he wanted that at all. Alfons was wholeheartedly denying any possibility that Edward wasn't dead. It pissed Al off and he didn't want anything more to do with him. He could manage perfectly without him. Heiderich could go to America alone if he liked, and move on with his piteous life, feel as sorry for himself as he wanted. Al would never give up on his brother, just like his brother had never given up on him at the time he was in the armour or when he had been captured by Thule Society.

In the midst of his anger, he didn't even care which direction he went. He had been in this part of Munich before though, it was quite central, and some people bypassed him on unsteady feet, although he was continuing towards parts of the city he had never been in. Al pulled the red coat a bit tighter around himself. He didn't regret it. He would never go back to that apartment ever again, not even if he had to spend the rest of the night outside. He could just walk. Walk and walk until faith decided what to do with him. He had some money; maybe he could find an inn somewhere. But not until he was as far away from Heiderich as possible. He didn't want to risk being found.

"Where are you heading at this hour?" Schiller wondered.

"Nowhere," Al said. "Please, don't ask. I'm sure you know what happened anyway."

"You shouldn't walk outside alone in the middle of the night, kiddo," Schiller warned sincerely. "Alfons Heiderich will get worried about you when he notices that you're gone."

"Who cares about that?" Al grated in a low voice, careful not to be in the range of hearing of any people close by. "He's trying to force me to leave to the other side of the world! I'm already far enough from home!"

"Isn't he doing it to protect you?"

"He's doing it to protect himself, more like it," Al muttered. "It seems like he only wants to forget about my brother."

Schiller went silent for a long moment. But not long enough. "Sometimes I feel something inside your soul, pressing towards the surface. Like right now. Someone is calling for you."

Al wasn't interested and didn't really listen either. "I don't care anymore; just leave me alone, please!" Feeling awfully upset, he continued his stride forward as the snowflakes were beginning to fall heavier and tighter. He noticed a couple of people standing outside a pub he passed by, as they were regarding him with interest. One of them bumped his elbow lightly into the other, and Al drew his eyes away from them and walked a bit faster.

Alright, walking outside alone so late at night couldn't possibly be considered very safe at all. Munich was a big city, and these times were desperate for many people. Al had read about the inflation and the crisis this world was in, in these post-war times. But none of it had anything to do with him. This world was too sad. He didn't want to get involved in it.

Al stuffed his hands into his pockets and agreed with himself that he wasn't just paranoid. He was being followed, probably by the two men who had stared at him as he walked by the pub. He wanted to avoid a fight, but he didn't want to get mugged either. He didn't have much money, and without it, how would he rent a place to rest for the night? He wanted to continue moving until that plane Alfons was planning to take had left the airstrip.

He heard murmuring voices behind him and they drew closer. His stomach twisted a bit nervously and he slowed down his pace. He could run, but it was tiresome to run in the snow, he had already established that earlier this week. Instead he tensed his knuckles, readying himself in case they made a move at him as he let them catch up. He shoved his hood back as he went, to get a better peripheral.

"Hello there, kid," one of them said in the strange language of this world. "Taking a stroll this late?"

Al stopped as they walked up on either side of him, feeling surrounded and edgy. They both wore long brown coats and looked to be in their late forties. "I'm on my way home," he lied.

"Oh really," the other said. "Is it far? You look like you're about to freeze to death." He actually sounded a bit concerned.

Al hadn't expected that, but couldn't deny it either. He was trembling from the cold. His coat was useless in this climate, but he had been too proud to take the coat Heiderich had bought him instead. Maybe he was a bit stupid, so be it. "It isn't very far," he said. "My brother is waiting for me."

"Your brother, eh? What about your parents?" the first one asked, planting an arm heavily over his shoulders.

Al shifted uncomfortably. "They're waiting too. I should go." He tried to keep on moving, but the other one stepped up and blocked his way.

"You shouldn't be walking around in this weather," he said. "Why don't you come with us inside the pub for a while, and I'll buy you a drink. It'll get you warmed up," he offered.

Al hesitated. "Uhm... I don't think I'm old enough."

"Rubbish, in this part of town anyone is old enough on a cold and shitty night like this one," the man still having his arm securely around Al's shoulders said. "Come on!"

Al swallowed a bit, but had to agree that it was more tempting to go inside somewhere warm rather than continue walking in this awful weather. He was freezing to the bones. So, he let them drag him back towards the pub. Inside it was indeed both nice and warm, the atmosphere even cheerful. Everyone had had a lot to drink, Al could tell, and he was escorted towards the bar counter with one man on either side of him.

"Hey, give this young lad some ale," the first man called to the bartender, ignoring Al's weak protest.

"Coming up."

Al sat down on a high stool, feeling a nervous tug in his stomach. The two men seated themselves on either side of him. He didn't know if he liked the thought of alcohol or this situation entirely, but decided to just go with it.

"You can call me Werner," the first man said. "And this is my friend, Claus. What's your name?"

"Alphonse," Al said a bit flatly. A large glass of golden liquid got placed in front of him, and he doubted he would even be able to drink half of it.

"Come on, drink up, kid!" Claus bumped him in the arm. "It'll make you a man."

Al sighed and idly nursed his beer. A few sips. It didn't taste good, and the liquid was cold, which didn't really make his body any warmer. But it was still better than being outside.

"You sure you're okay? You look a bit scrawny."

Al shook his head. "I'm okay. It's... complicated, I guess."

"Yeah? Where did you come from, kid? We love listening to stories. You don't look like you're from around here," Werner alleged.

Oh what a story he had stored up in his heart, indeed. He almost wished he could spill everything out and get rid of it all. "I came here quite recently," Al admitted.

"With your family?"

Al shrugged. Actually, did it matter if he told them the truth? They didn't seem threatening along with all of these other people around, after all, and he felt like he needed to speak out his feelings. "I don't have a family. I'm looking for my brother."

"You're by yourself, then?" Werner asked puzzled. "Where has your brother gone?"

Al took another sip of the beer. "Far away. I'm not sure where to look yet."

"Well, that's too bad," the older man replied. "Where did you last see him?"

Al's hands tightened around the big glass mug. "It was... not here." He took a long draught to avoid answering anymore. The cold liquid gushed down his throat, leaving a trace of nausea which he ignored. "He might show up here in Munich sometime. He knows that I'm here."

"That's good," Claus replied. "Then he'll come and look for you here."

Al smiled faintly. "Yeah."

"Who are you staying with then, if you don't have a family?" Werner prodded.

"Just someone my brother knew," Al said, his features darkening. "I don't care about him. He's an idiot."

"Why? Did he do something to you?"

Al shrugged again. "He wants us to move to America."

"America?" Werner said in surprise. "That offer I would've taken on any day. Much better over there than this shit hole."

Al gazed up at him in wonder. "Why do you say that? Don't you like Germany?"

"I love Germany," the man replied. "It's the only placed I've ever lived. But this country is damaged. It's hardly possible for anyone to afford to live here. Every time I get paid, I use my lunch break to buy my food for the rest of the week, before the prices get even worse."

"Yeah, and my job doesn't pay me all too well either. I eat soup most of the time," Claus said. He was swaying a bit after throwing down a whole pint in such short time.

"I didn't know it was this bad," Al said. "I don't even have much money. I don't really know what to do."

The man smiled, flashing two rows of yellow teeth and planted a hand on Al's shoulder. "When you don't know what to do, you drink." He squeezed a bit.

"I don't have anything else to do right now," Al snorted and sighed through a bitter smile. "But I definitely won't go back. I can't go to America. Then my brother might never find me."

"But I'm sure your friend only wants what's best for you," the other man accentuated. "There's a better chance to succeed in life over there. Many people despise the Americans, but they go there anyway. We use them to build ourselves up, and when we've reached our goals, we can go back to this hole and fix it up."

Al just nodded. He didn't really care about the economical crises this country suffered from. He had enough with his own selfish wishes. The only thing he wanted was to find his brother. When he had achieved that he would be ready to figure out other things, like what he wanted to do with his life. That seemed like such a minor and insignificant issue in comparison. Al's priority list had always been clear. Be with his brother like normal, find his brother, live together with his brother, and now... save his brother from the Gate.

He took another sip, because it was easy to drink when the mug simply sat there right in front of him and it was also the only thing to do without seeming like an idiot. He realized to his surprise that he had swallowed more than half already without noticing it. But he still felt fine. He remembered once he had promised his brother they would go out and drink together when he was old enough.

"You mean, when you look old enough," his older brother teased.

Al imagined that would've been fun. They would've talked about old times and laughed. Edward would've jokingly ruffled his hair and made fun of the drunken flush on his cheeks.

He hadn't even noticed that he had emptied the mug until another one was placed right in front of him. Al stared at it for a moment before turning away on the stool with an apologizing look at the generous man. "Sorry, I don't think I should have any more."

The man called Werner made a disappointed face before he smiled. "Are you sure about that, kid?"

Al bobbed his head and swayed a bit, leaning an elbow on the bar counter to keep himself upright. It seems like the effect of the alcohol was stronger than he had first anticipated. "I appreciate your hospitality," he said politely. "But I'm a bit..."

"Are you alright?" Werner laughed.

Al slid off the stool and staggered a bit on his feet as the dizziness hit him like a slap in the face. The man called Werner stood up as well and supported his back. "Easy there. You should remain seated for a bit, you seem a bit wobbly."

"Bit," Al echoed, fighting a small sense of nausea bubbling in his throat. "But it's fine, I think I should go." He might have been slurring a bit. The words stumbled a bit awkwardly out of his mouth. He was still not used to this edged and asymmetrical language.

"Going already, son?" The man held him back. "It's still snowing out there. The pub doesn't close until 4 am. Might get better."

Al politely shook his head. "I'm kind of tired."

"Then where are you supposed to go? You don't want to head home, right?" Werner emphasized. And he had a good point.

Al had no idea where to go. "Uhm, I..." he said thoughtfully. "I'm going to find an inn or something."

"At 3 o'clock in the morning?" the man laughed. "I have a better idea. Come with me."

Al hesitated. "I don't know if..."

"Nonsense, you shouldn't be walking out alone this late. Who knows, something might happen to you," the man notified. He nodded at his friend who slipped down from his stool as well and stepped up next to Al. He was still swaying a bit.

"Let's go," Werner said. "I don't live very far from here, you're welcome to stay. Come on." He beckoned Al with him out of the pub.

Al stumbled a bit forward, his mind still hazed from the alcohol. Where were they going? He had a slight feeling of uncertainty in the pit of his belly. He didn't want to come with them to their house. It had been alright inside the pub. There were so many other people there. Now he felt alone and vulnerable again. As the cold and sharp wind of frost hit his face, his mind cleared a bit and his brows knitted into a frown. The man was holding his around his upper arm tightly, partly dragging him forward out of the pub.

Al pulled a bit guardedly at his own arm. "I don't really need..."

"It's alright, son," the man said. "You won't regret it."

"No, we'll take good care of you," the other cooed. "Right, Werner?"

"Yes, we will," Werner agreed.

Al noticed how fast they were suddenly moving. It was almost impossible for him to keep up with Werner's long strides without having to run along. The hold around his arm started to hurt. He didn't feel comfortable with this at all. Alphonse stopped stubbornly and dug his heels into the snow. "Stop."

Werner stopped and tugged again, but Al kept his ground. With a quick twist of his head, Al tried to spot anyone close by on the street that might be able to assist him if he didn't get rid of these two on his own, but to his fretfulness he found the street they were in totally deserted of other people.

"What's the matter, kid? Don't you want to hang out?" Werner had a grin plastered on his face. "It seems he doesn't want to come, Claus." He clicked his tongue a couple of times. "No good."

Al's breath went a bit short as he made a small attempt to get his arm free. Claus reached for his other arm, and in that moment, Al realized that either of them probably had never had any good intentions from the start, and gotten him drunk on purpose.

"We'll take you home and teach you a small lesson or two; maybe you will be good then?" Werner slurred.

"No, thank you," Al replied densely and abruptly twisted his arm out of the grip and stepped back. He dodged away from Claus who made an attempt to grab after him, and the second after Werner charged straight forward to capture him again.

Al made a spring jump, pressed Werner's head down with his hand, stepped up on his shoulder and leaped over the man. He landed in the snow at some distance behind them both and staggered a bit. The alcohol was still rushing through his blood and made him a bit dizzy. But that didn't make him completely defenceless.

Claus and Werner whirled around to face him again, and Claus moved to the side so they could pin him from two sides.

"What do you want?" Al asked. Right now he was tired and if they needed money, he'd give it to them. Going back home actually did sound better than getting dragged somewhere to be beaten up.

"I'll show you very soon, little one," Werner grinned. "You have a lot of spirit. I like that."

Al didn't appreciate the compliment. It reminded him too much of very recent encounters with Thule Society. His instinct told him to act fast and get far away from there. Adrenaline flushed though his blood along with the alcohol, and he lunged first a fist towards Werner's chin, then a knee into his gut. The man let out a grumble and stumbled to his knees in the cold snow.

Al turned quickly and gave his leg a swing right into Claus' stomach. Claus jerked forward with his hand against his stomach, and Al followed by elbowing him in the head. The man collapsed in the snow and didn't seem to be able to stand up for a while. His mind was probably still too hazed from liquor.

"I'm sorry," Al apologized quietly. He turned away from them and started walking. Behind him Werner stood up to his feet, having recovered from the blows.

The man grinned. "I'll take care of this, Claus. Just stay there, I'll come get you later."

Claus simply groaned a bit in response.

Al touched his own forehead. He would never drink again. It simply weakened his body and mind. Al turned around as Werner came for him again, his vision slightly blurry, and his lightheaded mind was unable to dodge the direct punch against his cheek.

Al collapsed in the snow, his ears ringing and breath quickening. He tasted some blood on his lower lip and his eyelids fluttered for some seconds. It would've felt good to sleep right now. Right here.

"Yes, that's it, kid," Werner grumbled above him. "Stay quiet now."

Al felt that he was pulled up to his feet, though his legs felt like jelly. He squirmed a bit weakly as the man wrapped an arm around his waist and started dragging him away.

Where were they going now?

Al's vision was still blurry and his mind dazed. He wanted to speak, and parted his frozen lips. The blood was already dried on his lip. He spat some blood out in the snow, corrupting the pure white with crimson. Lifting his gaze and moseying forward, he noticed that they were already far away from the pub. He had never been here before; at least, he didn't recognize the street in the dark.

"Keep still, kid," Werner grunted. "I'll take you somewhere nice."

No. No, he didn't want that. Al abruptly locked his body and stiffly planted his heels down in the snow. "Let go of me!" he whirred. "I don't want—"

Werner hissed in his ear. "If you don't do what I say, I will start punish you right here." In one quick motion he twisted Al's arm into an arm lock behind his back and Al parted his lips, inhaling to scream, but the man's other hand clamped over his mouth.

"Not a word," he whispered.

Al struggled a bit harder and muffled a choked cry into the hand.

"We'll have a good time tonight," the man grinned into his ear. "Not even your friend will miss you, he'll simply go to America without you, won't he? Yes. You're only mine."

Al shook his head. No, Alfons Heiderich wouldn't go if he wasn't there, he knew it. But that didn't change anything.

"We'll be there soon," Werner cooed.

Al twisted and struggled by now, and he was making it hard for Werner to continue walking. He kicked at Werner's legs, hoping to make him fall so he could slip away. If he was taken inside a house, everything would probably be over. Then it wouldn't be easy to escape.

Werner lost the grip around his mouth and Al twisted away, though the man still kept a strong hold around his wrist. Before Al could duck away, the man backhanded him hard across his cheek, making his skin crawl and blood throb.

His vision fogged again, and he could only barely see the shadow of another man approaching them fast. Had Claus recovered by himself?

Suddenly his arm was released and he stumbled away before collapsing back into the soft and comfortable snow. He barely even felt the cold anymore. His body had gone numb. He heard shouting voices, and as he lifted his head, he spotted the profile of no other than Alfons Heiderich; his blue eyes narrowed in rage and his fist slamming into the older man's face.

Al stared at him in wonder. Why had the intense look in Alfons' eyes suddenly reminded him so much of his brother's?

"Al!" Alfons kneeled next to him and touched his shoulder. "Al, are you okay?"

Al parted his lips to apologize, but his brain stopped him. Nothing had changed. "Leave me alone," he muttered and stood up to his knees, then climbed back up to his feet.

Alfons stood up as well, his face surprisingly calm, still holding his shoulder. "Alphonse..."

"Don't touch me!" Al seethed and backpedalled away from the elder. "Just go away."

"Alphonse," Alfons scowled. "Have you been drinking?"

"It's none of your business. I don't want to go with you!" Al suddenly shouted. "Stay out of my life!"

"Al, please let me explain," Alfons retorted. "I do want to get him back!"

"No you're not!" Al countered. "Then you'd actually let me try!"

Werner stumbled towards them again, having once again recovered from the blow. He grinned. "You should stop fighting, boys. What do you say you both come with me?"

"Shut up!" both Al and Alfons shouted out in unison, followed by their fists connecting on each side of the man's face at the same time. Werner got flung back and landed heavily on the ground. This time he'd definitely not get up for a while.

Both Al and Alfons stood there panting for a moment and watched the fallen man. Al's eyes darted to Alfons first as he realized what they just did. Alfons scowled a bit and turned back to Al, a small smile emerging in the corner of his lip.

Al couldn't help smiling a bit as well, and a dry laugh escape his throat.

"Let's go," Alfons said. "It's freezing out here."

"Alright," Al mumbled.

They went side by side, following the many footprints in the snow of the sidewalk. Even if it was drawing closer to morning than night, the darkness was still present, still cold and bitter, and the stars were sharp points of lights shimmering down to earth, making the white snow glow. Their silence was brittle and cooling down along with the frosty night. Al stared up at the elder, his eyes seeming far away from the present despite what they had just been through. Al felt it was up to him to break the cold silence.

"If you want to bring my brother back, why are you so afraid to do it?" He just knew, he could read it in his eyes, his soul. Alfons Heiderich was frightened, though he hid it well behind a façade of guilty pretence.

Alfons didn't reply momentarily. He seemed reluctant to admit it out loud. "It's complicated, Al. The Gate... it was capable of doing these horrifying things to us." Alfons bowed his head as he spoke. "Even before it took Edward away, it changed things. It led us into a trap, manipulated us. It made my faith of something to believe in ebb entirely out of me and when people in this world lose faith in God, or just anything, it makes us biased. I don't know what to believe anymore. It's like we're mere puppets, controlled by a thing hardly anyone knows exists."

"This isn't about believing," Al said, his voice a bit sharp. "It's about my brother. You know deep down, as well as me, that he's still out there."

Alfons stuffed his hands down into his pockets. Al, you're almost too smart for your own good.

"You don't want him to come back!"

"Al..." Alfons' heart stung like it has just been impaired with shreds of glass.

"Is it because you're afraid that he has forgotten about you?" Al asked, more quietly. "Like I did?"

Alfons was about to protest, but something stopped his voice from breaking the surface. His eyes stung from unshed tears welling up, blank and distant. Did Al have a point? Yes, he was afraid that Edward had forgotten about him. But was he so afraid that he wouldn't even give faith a chance, and if Edward had forgotten about him, didn't Alfons want him back in his life at all? Would it hurt too much to see Edward happy without loving him?

"You don't want him to come back to even start anew?" Al stopped in the middle of the street, regarding Alfons' eyes observantly until Alfons turned away and stopped as well. "You can't possibly be that selfish!" Al went on, louder. "What makes you believe that Edward wouldn't still love you? If he really did, he wouldn't need his memories!"

There was a silence, but the words still echoed in the night.

Alfons let out a sharp breath, his head tilting back towards the stars as he let his eyes flow over and the tears, running as words his heart couldn't even express, quietly down his cheeks. He was broken, lost. As an echo of his deepest sorrow, he felt Edward's presence close to him again, like a metal and a flesh arm wrapping around him from behind, and a soft cheek against his shoulder, a gentle and warm breath tickling his neck. He didn't speak, but Alfons didn't need him to. He felt his presence in his heart, soothing him down.

An image as clear as the snow among him visualized in his head. One of his last memories of Edward. He was inside the white space and Edward's flesh hand caressed his cheek, and their foreheads touched.

"You're much stronger than me. You just don't realize it... Just remember, nothing happened in vain. I'll always love you, Alfons."

Nothing had happened in vain. Alfons still didn't understand how that was possible. But he knew, Edward wasn't dead. And as long as he wasn't dead, he couldn't simply stop believing in him.

"All this time, you've just tried to pretend that there's nothing we can do," Al said. "You're pretending that it's all over. But it's not."

Alfons took a deep breath and turned back to Al. "You're right, Al... You're absolutely right."

Al nodded and huffed a little, knitting his ice cold fingers together. To his surprise he felt a little bit better now, just by hearing Alfons Heiderich agreeing with him on this. Alfons hadn't given up on Edward after all. For the first time, he really didn't feel all alone in this world.

"Let's go back," Alfons said softly. "You're freezing."

Al couldn't deny that fact and agreed. Side by side they walked back to their apartment.

"Thanks for saving me from that guy," Al mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed. "And I didn't mean to drink, I..."

"Al, it's okay," Alfons said. "Just be a bit careful, alright?" He smiled again.

Al stared up at him, a bit of anxiety in his eyes. "Are... Are we still going?"

Alfons knew immediately what he meant. "Al, I know it's sudden. But I know your brother would've wanted us to go. Believe me..." he muttered. "I know better than you think."

Al mused a bit at that. Somehow he just knew Alfons was right, but that didn't mean that he still wanted to go. "But what if he comes here?"

Alfons met his eyes. "Al, I'll make sure he'll know where we are once he comes back. Just trust me, okay? Your brother is smart. He'll figure things out."

Al took a deep breath, and even if it was hard to accept this arrangement, the circumstances were a bit better than he had first anticipated. If anyone was able to trace back to them, it would be his brother. No matter where in the world they were. Maybe he'd lacked a bit of faith in his older brother as well without knowing it? Al finally nodded in agreement. "Okay."

Alfons could almost not believe his own ears. Al would come with him willingly. He guessed it was good he didn't have to forcefully drag Al to the train station in the morning.

Alfons never slept that night. He had first made sure that Al had fallen peacefully asleep in his room, after he had packed his things. Al's words had really affected his heart, and he was right.

"What makes you believe that Edward wouldn't still love you? If he really did, he wouldn't need his memories!"

No matter what Edward remembered, Alfons would make sure it didn't change anything, he thought as he lay wide awake in his bed with the brush of Edward's presence next to him. It felt warm and comforting, because inside his heart, Edward finally smiled again.

"Are you always with me?" Alfons whispered out in the dark.

"Mostly," Edward said. "When you let me."

"Don't I always let you?"

"No. Subconsciously. I'm here when you need me to be," Edward said and chuckled softly.

Alfons closed his eyes and curled up on his side. "I always need you." Needing Edward was like he had never needed anything else in his life. He needed him like the ocean needs water. Like a shadow needs light to emerge. Like the moon needs the sun to shine.

Edward's ghostly hair tickled his cheek as Edward leaned over him and tenderly kissed his forehead. "Then I'm here."

"Not for real," Alfons murmured. "But I'm happy for the small part of you that I have at the time being." He sat up again, as he suddenly remembered something he had forgotten to do before he had noticed that Al was gone earlier that night. He stood up from bed and stepped across the room to the bookshelf, picking out a thick book. Then he stepped over to the desk and opened the drawer.

"What are you going to do?" Edward asked.

"I'll pay dearly if I get caught," Alfons muttered. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Who would I tell?" Edward said dryly.

Alfons took out the gun Van Hohenheim had left, a scissor and some aluminium foil. "I'm not leaving this behind... It has protected us before."

Edward frowned at the gun. "It has hurt us before too."

"I'll keep it at a safe place. It's just in case of an emergency," Alfons said, and flipped the book open on a random page early in the book. Then he started cutting a hole into the thick layer of pages, big enough that the gun would fit. Then he wrapped the gun into aluminium foil and in the end, he pushed the gun inside the book and closed the cover. The foil filled the empty space so the gun wouldn't accidentally fall out. Some pages at the beginning and the end of the book were still whole, so even if someone opened the book on the first page, the gun wouldn't be visible.

"Don't they search people on airports?" Edward wondered.

Alfons nodded. "Yeah that's true, but only the suspicious types. Do I look suspicious?" He went for an innocent smile.

"I guess not," Edward mused, but his concerned expression lingered.

"It's the least of our problems," Alfons muttered, putting the book into his suit case next to Edward's Christmas present from Gracia, and dropped back down on his back on the bed again, his arm resting behind his head. "It'll be a long trip." Even if he tried to close his eyes, sleep wouldn't come to him. Not that he really wanted to either. He enjoyed having Edward here with him, even if he partly wasn't real...

"I'll always have a fear in my heart that... you don't remember," Alfons murmured. "I can't ask you if you remember, I guess?"

Edward chuckled. "I'm afraid I don't know. But I can tell you this: Al lost his memories of you, but that doesn't necessarily mean I did. Al's memories were his toll from another time, when he got back his memories of his journey together with me. When we were inside the Gate, I paid the toll for you with my body and soul, not my mind."

"I know," Alfons whispered. "But I just couldn't help thinking what if. We've been through so much, both happiness and pain. Everything that has happened has both weakened me and given me strength, but I didn't want to be left alone with those memories."

"We'll always create new memories," Edward soothed. "You're doing that right now, together with my little brother."

"If you were out there, would you know about us?" Alfons asked quietly. "Would you know where we are and what we're doing?"

"Even if I'm able to talk to you now, I'm afraid these conversations won't reach my body," Edward confessed slowly. "My memories of you here and now aren't being saved inside my mind, which means, if I should happen to come back to this world, I wouldn't know you left."

"I see," Alfons understood. "Then I'll make sure that you'll find us somehow."

"Appreciate it," Edward said.

Alfons sat up. He might as well start now since he couldn't sleep anyway. He rummaged around his room and stepped over to his finished packed suit case. He found paper, pen and ink, and sat down by his desk, turned on the small lamp.

"What are you going to write?" Edward asked curiously.

"It's for you," Alfons replied with a faint smile. "When you get back."

The letter was hard to start, and Alfons sat for almost twenty minutes and merely let his thoughts spin around everything that had happened. He couldn't reveal too much, in case the letter ended up in the wrong hands. He had to let Edward know where they were going in a way that only Edward would understand. And he had the perfect solution. Code. Edward had taught him how to decode Van Hohenheim's books, which meant Alfons could code the letter by using the same method and only Edward would figure it out.

Dear Edward...

As soon as he was past the first paragraph, every word was flowing out of him and he could hardly write fast enough. Before he even knew it he had written the page full and had to get more paper. Edward would easily see the clue, Alfons was certain of that. After he was finished he put the letter in a place he knew Edward would look. Finally Alfons felt soothed enough to get one hour sleep before they had to get ready to go to the train station. It would be another long day tomorrow, but he kind of looked forward to it.

"When you read this," Alfons whispered. "We'll be waiting for you to come after us."

"I'll do my best," Edward said and snuggled close behind him.

I hardly know where to begin. I could barely comprehend the fact that you didn't make it to this world with us. The one thing that saved me, was your brother. He doesn't even know it, but without him I wouldn't have made it back to the city.

In the end, everything happened so fast and I was so afraid. I still am. Someone showed up after you were gone, and they know who we are. One of them is after Al, and he knows certain things. I suspect he's related with both Thule and murder. I don't know exactly what they want from us, but I chose to take Al away from here. I'm sorry for everything. There was no time for any explanations. The Gate was gone, so were you. I don't know if we'll be able to see you again, and it hurts. Nothing has ever hurt this much. And even as much as it hurts me, it hurts Al even more. He didn't want to leave, despite the danger of staying in Munich and even if I felt bad about it I made him come with me. Hopefully he'll forgive me someday.

It's the end of 1923 soon. A new year, a new beginning? I don't know how there can be a new anything without you. Nothing will ever be the same. I can't even imagine a life without you. For now, I'm simply taking one day at the time and clinging to the one person I have left, whom I consider family. We tried to settle down in Munich, but it didn't always feel like we succeeded. Though, we're going to try again, in another place.

It was completely surreal, realizing you were no longer with us, especially since the Gate almost erased my existence. It's difficult to go on without you, after everything that has happened. After we came through I learned that Alphonse doesn't remember me. Every single image is erased from his mind. Sometimes I started wondering... Was I ever in the other world to begin with, or was it just a dream?

What I'm even more afraid of is that your memory was affected as well. The Gate might have erased me from the other world, after all. Have you forgotten about me too? I'm afraid to know. If you have forgotten about me, how shall I tell you everything if we should ever meet again? All the memories I refuse to let go of. You're in all of them.

Al still believes that you're out there, and he wanted to wait for you in Munich no matter what. But I know you'd want the best for him, so I'm trying as hard as I can. I'll try to provide a future for him in this world. That's why I decided to leave, at the same time it started getting too dangerous to stay. Whoever they are, they know something and I'm afraid to reveal too much in case they find this letter before you do.

I miss you, Edward. We both do. I still feel a strong connection to you sometimes, like you weren't gone at all. It's difficult to explain. I might even be out of my mind, I'm not sure. But wherever I am, I'm always reminded of you and how you always made me feel loved.

Despite everything we've been through, I wonder what makes Al so sure, how he's able to keep his confidence so strong. It's something he has unmistakeably gotten from you. Your brother is determined and smart. His will to find you will never diminish, and he'll always stay positive that we'll meet you again.

I want to believe in it too. I've been a fool and a coward for not believing it as strongly as Alphonse. Your brother is right. I have to stop pretending that everything is over, because it's not. But I know what it is capable of and I saw you disappear right in front of my eyes after you told me never to try to get you back. Sorry, I don't know if I can keep that promise. Nevertheless, I know you'll be able to find us if you should be ever able to return.

One thing I'm certain of, I swore to you that I would take care of your brother. I've found a new life purpose, until we meet again. For your sake, I will live it through until I die.

If you ever read this… We're waiting for you in this world's Amestris.

With love,

Alfons

"Clever code," Edward approved. "I hope I find it."