"..."

I put as much emotion as possible in my eyes, hoping that this Mustang, even if it wasn't mine, would understand me. And in fact, it seemed to work, as he slowly lowered his arm with the weapon before securing and attaching it to his holster on his belt.

Carefully, I lowered my hand from his mouth, which he immediately grabbed. His bigger hand closed firmly around mine. I would have liked to know if his hand was as warm as the one I knew on my skin. But my automail didn't make me feel any of it.

"Who are you" repeated the Mustang of this increasingly horrible world more quietly. The distrust had remained in his gaze, but I realized that his mind had calmed down, which made me sigh in relief.

"Edward Elric," I replied truthfully. "I... I'm come from here. Sorry." Hesitantly, I gave him a smile, which unfortunately he didn't answer. But maybe it was better that way. I didn't want to get false hopes, like Icarus ascending to the sun, only to be torn down and fall in despair.

"How do you know my name, Edward?" He spoke my name differently than I was used to. Probably more as one would call the version of me of this world if he was still alive.

"A mix-up and a coincidence," I reluctantly returned. I wanted to turn my gaze away in shame, but he reached for my chin and pulled my head back, so I had to look at him. It wasn't just warmness coming from his hand, no it was heat, as if his hands were burning, hot as fire, hot as his flame alchemy, which he shouldn't possess in this world. If it were possible to use alchemy and transmute here, I would have been back home much faster.

"Unlikely." replied Mustang, letting his gaze wander up and down at me without showing any renewed emotion. I trembled a little uneasy at the strange feeling of this inspection.

"I-I have to go now...!" As much as I was happy to see Mustang at first, I wanted to move away from this version of him quickly. It hurt to see another version of him that treated me differently, spoke to me differently, looked at me differently. A version that felt differently and couldn't return my own feelings.

But he only strengthened his grip around my hand and still held my chin. He bent down a little to me so that I could feel his warm breath in my face, which was cool from the wintery cold.

Very quickly my cheeks heated up and took on a shameful red color. "T-Too close!" I shouted a little shrill but I didn't get very far because suddenly he closed my lips with his. The feeling was so similar to my memory, also like the illusion of the alcohol, so I couldn't help but respond desperately. I clawed my free hand at Mustang's shoulder to draw him a little closer. Dream, parallel world, illusion, all this no longer mattered to me at that moment. All that mattered was that I was with Mustang, that I was held by him and could be so close to him.

But what pulled me out of that warm embrace of emotion was his voice. Not directly his voice, after all it sounded exactly as I had it in mind, but more the word he spoke or rather the way he emphasized it.

"Eduard..."

I opened my eyes and stared up at him before pushing him back with a lot of force. It was difficult to calm my panting when despair abruptly collapsed over me all at once.

Mustang's eyes instead showed a certain desperation, but it was overshadowed by deep longing. Homesickness, but after a person. To my horror, I understood the feeling, even felt it in that moment, the feeling of missing. But I also understood a little more about it. It was a fantasy to equate him with Mustang. He was not the Mustang that my heart demanded. And I wasn't the person who the Mustang from this world was looking for.

"Sorry, I-", Mustang wanted to start explaining himself, but a strong slap with my right hand silenced him.

"A-ASSHOLE!" I shouted at him. "DAMN ASSHOLE! YOU- YOU CURSED BASTARD!" Tears had formed in my corners of my eyes, in an attempt to wash away my gained knowledge. But the knowledge in me and in my heart was too deep, too much. I became painfully aware that in this world I would never find the people I was longing for. I would never find an alternative to my home here, never an Alphonse and a Winry, who were always family for me and supported me, nor a Mustang who could warm me with his flame alchemy and close me into his big, strong arms.

If I myself couldn't find a way back into my world, which was pretty much impossible without alchemy, then I would never find what I needed to be happy, what I needed to live.

The Mustang of this world held his red cheek, which certainly had to hurt a lot from my metal hand. But this pain was far from the pain I felt in my heart, and probably the one in his too.

"I'm not the one, you think I am. I'm Edward. Edward Elric from Amestris. And you, you're not Mustang. You are not Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. Do you understand me?! You're not him! And the Edward of this world, this Edward who lived in London, is dead! And I will not be a replacement for him! And you will never be a replacement for my Mustang!" My screams became more and more into sobs as the tears barely stopped running down my cheeks.

When Mustang tried to wipe them away, I slapped his hand. "Don't touch me!"

For a few moments we were silent, he speechless, I breathless. When he raised his voice again, he was very quiet, barely heard in the noise that prevailed at the train station.

"So Eduard is really dead? I should have known." Mustang lowered his gaze. "Ultimately, it was me who pulled his body out of the burning Zeppelin wreck. Finally, I was present at his funeral." He laughed sadly. "But to see you here, looking exactly like him... I think something went through with me."

My gaze lost a little of its anger, as some sympathy spread in my eyes. "It's alright." I replied, even smiling a little. After all, it was me who had started the confusion and excessive contact. Also I had returned the kiss, so I could hardly blame Mustang's alternative version alone. "I also acted wrong, please forgive me."

"I think the slap has helped, so I should rather say thank you." Mustang even laughed slightly. "His spirit would certainly have reacted the same way if he had seen me in this state."

I didn't know how to reply, so I just looked at him sadly. After a short silence between us, Mustang resigned a few steps. "Then it's probably time for me to leave. Live well, Edward." He made an effort to pronounce my name correctly, which only made my smile sadder.

When he turned around and left, I looked after him for quite a while. Live well, he had said. The sentence didn't let me go. Just when the Mustang had almost disappeared from my field of vision, I stepped forward.

"Wait!" I screamed loudly, running after him. Astonished, the black-haired man stopped and looked back at me. With quick steps I caught up with him before I stopped at him gasping for air.

"I have to ask you for something!" Demanding and desperate, I looked up to him. "Please give me your weapon!"

Mustang blinked surprised, but before he could express his visible concerns, I kept talking. "I have to go back to my world. To my Mustang. For that I need it, please help me."

The man closed his mouth before he sighed and handed me his pistol. When he tried to turn his head away, I grabbed his upper arm.

"I am really sorry that my version from this world is no longer alive. Really. But don't give up. Keep him in your heart and keep fighting!" I ripped off his armband. "He would certainly have wanted it like that!"

Mustang looked at me, but this time I couldn't understand the feelings in his eyes. Eventually, he nodded and turned away from me. "Good luck," were his last words before he went on and disappeared into the crowd.

The next seconds felt like I was in a dream when I left the station myself. The weapon felt incredibly heavy in my hand, while at the same time fulfilling such a liberating hope.

After a few long minutes, maybe even an hour, I found myself on a small hill. And for the first time since I was in Germany, the sun shone brightly from the blue sky down on me. The snow clouds had disappeared and warm spring winds heralded a change in weather. Under the white blanket at my feet, I could even see some single green spots of the meadow.

It was as if the world felt my increasing motivation, my great hope of returning and wanting to say goodbye. Smiling, I walked through the snow, making patterns that soon revealed to form a transmutation circle. When I stopped in the middle, I turned my head to heaven again.

Presumably I should have told Hohenheim that I was leaving. I should have said goodbye, maybe even offered that he could come along. But even though I was convinced of my plan, it would have been too risky and Hohenheim would never have chosen this path. But for me, it was my way out of this world.

A soft wind blew my hair out of my face and let me breathe. Spring, new year, new time. New happiness, I hoped.

I looked down at my hands with determination, took off the gloves and gripped the weapon Mustang had given me tightly in my right hand.

One last look at Germany. I noticed that there were many more colours than just grey. That there was white, even some blue and yellow. And I had also seen black. The black of his eyes and hair. Yes, when I thought about it like that, I had probably seen some colors without being aware of it.

I closed my eyes and greeted the familiar darkness with joy. A smile was placed on my lips when in my imagination first Winry and Alphonse, then Mustang joined me. Unlike in my alcohol-distorted intoxication, all three of them seemed quite peaceful this time. The hug they gave me had something so warm, familiar, that I couldn't help but feel good. And the thought that I would soon feel this hug in real life, back in my world, only made me happier.

This thought was the only one that remained inside me. The desire to go home and be with them again.

It didn't help to denial the hopelessness of this situation.

It didn't help to be angry with this world.

It hadn't helped to bargain with life, if it could be any different.

It had not helped to sink into depression and give up.

No. I had to accept this situation, this world. Only this way I could find my peace. That was the only way I could settle with my grief.

I smiled and raised my hand, felt the cold barrel of the pistol on my temples.

I had to accept it if I wanted to live.

So I pulled the trigger.