[Al's hand is laying across the sheets, completely still, relaxed as if he's only sleeping. But that color is too pale for health, and too still for natural rest. Al's profile stands out in the darkened room, lips parted, eyes shut. His chest doesn't rise and fall. The scene looks like a photograph, more serene than gruesome
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Al? Al!
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... h-how long?
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[Alfons looks shaken and tired--he barely slept during the night--but above all he looks relieved to see Alphonse breathing again. He doesn't want to think of what the Animus might have taken, doesn't want to find out that it's something crippling; he's only managing to look calm because those thoughts are kept quiet for the moment.]
Alphonse...
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... Alfons... I'm so sorry.
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Your brother vas blaming himself, Alphonse. Saying that he did not vatch you close enough, that he did not stop you.
[Pauses and grabs at his hair a little harder; it's partially the new Event, he's been petting everything and everyone near him, but the stress isn't helping.]
I-I had to tell Edvard, it vas not him, that I told you about mein Edvard und The Gate...
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[A tiny, ironic smile.]
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Oh Alphonse...you're back.
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I'm just glad you're awake.
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Welcome back.
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... thank you.
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Hate to tell you, but it's not the end of the world as we know it.
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