Excerpt: For This, I Was Kept

"We're going to be snowed in for a week if this keeps up," I grumbled unhappily, wincing at the watery travesty that we pretended was real coffee.

Alfons gave me a placating smile from the other side of the table. "We have enough canned food to get us through until then, Edward. And if we have to go without coffee," he paused, eyeing his mug, "I might be grateful, at this point, actually."

I gave him a sour look. "Exactly my point. You want me to go a week without coffee? I'll fall asleep standing up." That was probably an exaggeration, but I was feeling put out.

Alfons rolled his eyes at me, something he did quite a bit, I noticed, and shook his head. "You will not, Edward. Besides, I'm sure I can find ways to wake you up." I think I might've started to turn red at the suggestive look he had on his face, but that went away as soon as he added, "Like a bowl of cold water over your head."

I kicked his ankle under the table. "Asshole."

Alfons laughed, pulling his legs out of reach of a second blow. "I'd have to warm you back up, of course!" he promised, then turned to the fire, grabing the poker and shifting the logs a bit to let more oxygen get to the warmer embers under the logs. The fire crackled and popped, and Alfons jumped back, cautious a moment before he pushed another log to the side and then set the poker against the brick hearth.

I watched him silently, watched the flickering light from the fire on his face, and wondered just how long this quiet domesticity would last us. His illness was getting worse, and already that winter had been harder on him than the one before, and now we had a house that wasn't as strong or warm as it should have been. I wondered how long before he was bed-ridden, unable to go outside and look at the stars, or how long before he couldn't eat or drink without choking. How long before he was gone.

I really didn't like the thought of facing that alien world alone. Father was gone, and Alfons would be soon, too. It was just a matter of time, there was no arguing that. And the Putsch in Munich put us into hiding, so he'd never even realize his dream to see Germany reach the stars, and I'd never get a chance to get him back to Amestris before I'd have to bury him.

"Edward?"

Alfons's voice snapped me out of those depressing thoughts, and I rubbed my eyes, pretending they were wet from the sting of the fire's heat. "Yeah?"

Oh for christ's sake, yes, I cry. Sometimes, I might even smile if you watch closely.

"Thank you."

His voice was so soft past the howling wind outside that for a moment, I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. When I was certain he'd thanked me, I stared at him blankly. "For what?"

"For taking me with you," he answered, sipping at the cooling coffee-flavored water.

Now I was frowning. He was going to live the last of his life, hiding like an outlaw and never getting to reach any of his dreams, and he was thanking me for it? He had to have taken leave of his senses. "What're you talking about?" I didn't quite snap, but my tone was a bit jumpy. "We're going to freeze to death with mugs of bad coffee in our hands and you're saying thank you?"

Alfons laughed. I always did like the sound of his laughter. "Maybe, but I'll die a happy man then."

"You're a sap, Alfons," I accused, trying to hide behind that swill in my cup.

He grinned. "Maybe so, but you looked like you could stand a little sap." The grin softened, and he glanced at the fire. "I know I don't have much longer, Edward. And I know this is a hard thing to ask of you, with everything you've lost. But I don't need to be known by the world to be remembered."

I swore up and down sometimes that somehow, that man was psychic, to be able to know my thoughts so well.

"And out here, we're so isolated, that..." he trailed off, one corner of his lips tugging downward as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, like he always did when he was thinking about something. "We have freedom out here. We can live as we want without worrying about neighbors or the law finding out what we're doing. Just like normal people. That's something being famous would never be able to give me."

The happiest sinners in the world. I wished I'd believed in God so I could pray that He'd forget we were there.