Letters From Munich (FMA/Gilmore Girls)

Prologue

"Tragedy knows no race, no religion, no age. The only thing that tragedy knows is the devastating sound of hearts breaking, as it crushes the hopes and dreams for the very last time."

Munich, Germany. 1923.

Everyone told him that the sky was the limit.

His mother, his father, and his little sister encouraged him to achieve his dream, even if it meant never seeing their son or their brother ever again. 

When Alfons Heiderich collected his clothes, his books, and a ticket to Munich within his suitcase, he knew what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He wanted to build rockets. 

For most people at the time, it was a silly concept for a younger person to pursue such nonsense. It was a few years since the "Great War" in Europe; many citizens, particularly the Germans, were still bitter about their loss and their debt. The only meaningful jobs available were agriculture, factory work, and mining. Building a contraption that could take a human being to space was nothing more than a fool's imagination.

Alfons refused himself to be called a 'fool'. He was a proud German male and despite the defeat his country felt from the war, Alfons believed that Germany can still be capable of many things. He declined to back down and only felt it was right to move forward with innovation and intellectual enlightenment. This was the reason he was excited to know that the scientist he was going to study under was an Austrian-born German.

If I could make something that can touch the stars, I will die a happy man.

Space, to him, was a limitless mass full of untouched discovery. Philosophers and writers from the past had since alluded to the mystique of space. He hoped to be one of the forerunners to open its doors.

At 17-years-old, Alfons still had a life ahead of him; a life filled with opportunities to continue pursuing his research, his inventions, his findings...

But Alfons had little time left. 

Building engines and wafting its scent of chemical fumes had its toll on him and his lungs were damaged as a result. Despite the consequences, Alfons never stopped. Even if it meant for him to cough up pints of his own blood from his body. He never revealed his physical state to his family, aware that they may beg his return home.

All he cared about was making something fly, that was all. He didn't concern for an impending second World War nor did he care about the Nazi supposedly sponsoring his research. 

He also didn't give a second thought of returning him home.

You're the lucky one, Edward Elric.

He finished strapping in the blonde-haired and golden-eyed man into his little rocket-plane, tightening the buckles and preparing the controls for the thruster. 

The male called Edward shifted in his seat, eventually waking up from his slumber. Alfons only smiled at him, his blue eyes filled with warmth and yet, sadness.

This may be the last time he would ever see this strange man. The man who somehow stumbled into his life during his studies and told him "stories" of where came from; the world that he explained that existed but not here on this country nor this planet. A world ruled by a science of changing one substance to a new and similar object through the use alchemy.

Since then, Alfons had always been curious about him. Still, he wanted what's best for him and that was sending him back to his "home world".

"Alfons," Edward called, his voice filled with confusion and surprise, "What are you doing?"

Alfons grinned, adjusting the control panel. "Our rocket's big enough to reach two kilometers; it should have enough speed to punch through the pressure and get out safe. This one seater shouldn't be a problem--,"

"Wait a minute!" Edward exclaimed, "I never said I wanted to go back!"

He cut him off with the same heart-warming grin, "I'm not giving you a choice, Ed."

Bright-colored hues softened with reluctance. "Is it because I'm in the way?"

There was a pause between them as Alfons recollected the words that he had always wanted to say to him.

"We're real, Edward."

The alchemist exhaled a surprised breath in response.

"We are not just part of your dreams like you thought," Alfons continued with brows furrowed, "I care. I make mistakes. I may not live much longer, but I'll still be here."

Placing his hand over Edward's gloved palm, he gripped reassuringly.

"Don't forget me."

Without giving Edward a time to response, Alfons took off to the panels. Activating the speed rate to the number he desired, the rocket scientist grabbed the lever and pressed it down. Thrusters from Edward's rocket lit up and the platform moved to point the rocket upward towards the glowing ceiling. 

Edward emitted screams from the cockpit as he tried to convince Alfons he was making a big mistake. Unfortunately, his persuasion was not enough and the rocket blasted in ascension, leaving the trail of smoke to form down below. 

I did it. 

A smile formed into Alfons' features. After years pining to a dream he thought he could never see, he had finally done it. He did not mind that he was not the passenger in his own machine; all that mattered was he made someone fly and hopefully, reach their destination.

In that split moment, his bright blue eyes were filled with life.

Brought only to an abrupt end by the sound of a gunshot and bullet piercing through his chest.

The amber flames from his rocket were slowly fading from Alfons' vision as well as the sun-colored man in it. Instead, events from his childhood and adulthood flashed in front of his very eyes. Entries detailing of his findings, schematics of drafted inventions, and studies were also included in his last moments of conscious thought. 

There were also letters he remembered writing with words he always had wanted to say to the man he had addressed it to.

Edward.

And then, he collapsed.

----

Quote (c) Nikita Gill
Scene is a recap from Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa.