Spring Rain

by fluffykitty12

Summary:

When Edward Elric's "gift" is once again required to help hunt a serial killer, everyone assumes it's another Barry the Chopper case. But with the West City Ripper on the loose, will Ed learn to trust himself- and Mustang- before it's too late?

Chapter 1

Notes:

If you're into this story, I'd super appreciate if you could even just drop by and visit my tumblr at fluffykitty12 I'd super appreciate it!

So I'm back. I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands because I tested positive for COVID. Fortunately I think I'm getting better. Anyways- here it is.

---

"Colonel- have you noticed my brother has been acting... different... lately?"

It was only through years of being a military official that he kept the surprised expression from his face.

"In what way, Alphonse?"

The suit of armor sighed. "More distant. He used to talk to me about everything. Now he just goes for these long walks. And before, he'd let me go with him, but now he goes alone. He has more nightmares than usual. And he wakes up shouting names I don't recognize.".

Roy sighed. "I'm sure by now you've heard about the case your brother solved while you were away in Risembool. Am I correct in that assumption?"

Al's metal neck creaked as he nodded. "Yes. Brother mentioned it once, but he never talked about it.".

"It was a child killer, Alphonse. Your brother saw things that made grown men lose their minds."

"Oh. I see. He doesn't... he won't talk about it, though. He just keeps moving."

Roy nodded. "That sounds like your brother. We were seeing abominations left and right, atrocities that made people cry and vomit, and Ed would just closed his eyes for a minute to gather himself and keep walking. He found every body in that hellhole."

"Maybe I should ask him about it. It might help him if he talked more..."

"I wouldn't. He doesn't want to share that right now. He might not want to- ever, to be quite frank."

"But how am I supposed to help him if he doesn't talk to me?" Alphonse was looking frustrated. "Sometimes he talks to himself more than he talks to me!"

Roy blinked. That was new. Edward had made him promise not to reveal to Alphonse that he could speak to the dead. An unexpected side effect of their failed attempt at human transmutation- and one that Ed found it unnecessary to burden his little brother with.

"He talks to himself?"

Al nodded. "Yeah. He used to just mumble to himself, but he goes on these long walks and has entire conversations now. He never did that before."

Roy took a sip of his coffee- with the mug near his face, he could hide his expression. Edward was probably talking to the dead again. But these dead companions probably weren't the victims of crime- because if they were, Ed would've come to him, there would've been police reports to match up...

"Give him time, Alphonse. That's all I can say." Roy said simply. It was a worefully inadequate answer, but it was all he was able to give at the moment. "Do you have any leads on the stone?".

Al's soulfire eyes brightened a bit at the question, and he nodded. "Yes. Brother's gotten a bunch of rare books while I've been gone, we've been spending every free minute we have researching."

---

As Roy walked home, he found himself taking a different route than usual, stopping by the canal that ran through East City.

Just like he expected, there was a figure in a red coat sitting at the edge of the frozen canal.

He sighed, walking up behind the figure.

Ed blinked, looking over at him warily before he kept looking out over the water.

Roy moved to sit beside him, but Ed held up a hand, looking over at him. "Don't sit there. Sit on my other side, if you gotta sit somewhere.".

Roy blinked. Then he realized- there must be someone else sitting beside Ed, a spirit he couldn't see.

"Sorry. Didn't realize there was anyone else here." he apologize quietly, moving to sit at Ed's other side.

He sat beside Ed- the blonde was still silent, red coat pulled tightly around himself. His breath fog in front of him- was it really almost December already?

"Your brother said I might find you here." Roy admitted.

"Did he now."

"He also said you've started talking to yourself."

Ed narrowed his eyes. "You didn't tell him anything... did you?"

"No. I didn't. I was just curious who you were talking to."

Ed sighed. He looked to his right. There was a girl who wasn't any older than four with long, curly brown hair. She was dressed in a bright pink sundress and had bear feet, despite the bitter cold temperatures.

"Her name is April."

"How old is she?"

"She's three."

"How long have you been talking to her?"

"A few weeks now. I just like to come see her for a few minutes everyday when I can.".

Roy nodded. "Do you know how she died?".

"She drowned in this canal two years ago. She wanted to feed the ducks and fell in.".

"I see." Roy nodded. "Anyone else you talk to around here?".

Ed shrugged. "There's an old guy. Sits on the bench outside the graveyard. He just hangs out there. I talked to him once. He's waiting for his wife so they can cross over together. I want to go back-" Ed's eyes widened slightly, as though he realized he'd let something slip he didn't want to, but he stopped talking abruptly.

Roy frowned. "Go back where?".

"Nowhere. It doesn't matter. Shut up." Ed said defensively.

Roy sighed. "Right. If you want to keep it to yourself that's perfectly fine. But I expect you to tell me if it's going to become a problem.".

Ed's gaze hardened significantly. "It won't be."

"Alright then. Your brother is worried, you know. He's picked up on the fact you talk to yourself.".

Ed huffed, his breath a cloud in the cold winter night as he glared at Mustang. "And what did you tell him?".

"Nothing about your abilities. But he may very well find out sooner or later. I can understand not wanting to burden him by letting him know, but by keeping him in the dark, you're making him worry..."

It'd started to snow, now. Big flat, fluffy flakes started to stick to the ground and ontop of the sheen of ice on the canal.

"Yeah, well- keeping him in the dark is the best thing for now. This is my penance. It was my idea to try to bring Mom back- I'll deal with the consequences.".

"Alright. But if it gets to be too much- or you find out information about a crime..."

"You'll be the first to know, Bastard." Ed groused.

"Good." Roy nodded slightly. Edward still had the spare key to his home from when he'd been forced to be under adult supervision after the debbacle of their last case. Roy hadn't asked for it back, and he didn't plan to.

"You should get home. It's cold.".

"Yeah yeah. I will."

Ed paused, looking over to his right where April was sitting.

"Goodnight Ed. Goodnight, April.".

The ethereal silence of falling snow was broken by a childish giggle, and Roy watched as small bear feet made footprints in the thin layer of snow in front of them, running back towards the sidewalk.

"That's neat." Roy remarked.

Ed blinked, looking up from the footprints to Roy in surprise. "You can see the footprints?"

Roy nodded. "Yeah. I heard her laugh, too.".

"That's new.". Ed remarked. "Most people can't see anything. Maybe it's because you said goodbye to her. Most of them are very lonely- they like it when anyone talks to them.".

"I don't blame them." Roy admitted. "It's nice of you to spend time with them when you can. Just remember- your little brother is still alive and needs your help too.".

"-tch." Ed scoffed, flexing his automail hand. "Like I could ever forget, Mustang.".

Chapter 2

The spooky shit starts here. Let me know what you think!

Christmas had come and passed without much fuss, and the new year started in January, which bled into February, and March fast approached.

The Elrics were hunting leads again- investigating a promising book shop in the tiny village of Hamlet.

And Roy was working diligently as always, signing paperwork, when a familiar face strode into the office.

Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Atkins was a handsome looking man with dark brown hair and intelligent, searching silver eyes. He had a chiseled jaw and high cheek bones that made him look attractive. However, just as there was intelligence in the man's gaze, there was a certain lack of warmth and any sort of social tact at all that made his attention slightly unnerving.

"Colonel Mustang." the man greeted him, snapping off a salute, business-like as ever.

"Lieutenant Colonel Atkins." Roy tried to hide his dismay at seeing the man again. The man was a brilliant investigator, but often became obsessed with a case to the point of driving his men to the exhaustion and breakdowns- a method Roy thought was short-sighted and reckless. A good officer cared about his men. Not that he thought Atkins didn't, but the man had a one-track mind and would become obsessed to the point the case became all-consuming.

"I thought you were transferred to West City after everything last year.".

"I was." Atkins said simply.

"How are you liking it there?". Most officers would've taken it as a demotion and a hit to their pride to be moved to West City from Central, but Atkin's expression didn't shift.

"Damnably cold compared to Central, but well enough. I can do my work there, anyways. But I think we both know I didn't come here to talk about the weather." Atkins peered around the room, taking stock of everyone and clearly noting Fullmetal's empty desk.

Lieutenant Hawkeye discretely shut the door, and Atkins nodded to her appreciatively before he was placing an envelope on Roy's desk.

"I've been sent by the brass to retrieve you and Fullmetal. There's a budding serial killer in the west- seven dead already. The military wants it squashed before there's any more victims."

Roy blinked. "And you can't solve it yourself?"

Atkins jaw clenched. "Not for lack of trying, Colonel Mustang. Listen- we all know what the Fullmetal Alchemist is capable of- and there's a damnable lack of evidence here. The killer is clinical and has a sharp eye for detail. We need him.".

Roy folded his hands. "And you expect me to just give him to you? After everything he went through last time- after I had to talk the gun out of Captain Brown's hands because you made him try and get leads from talking to corpses..."

A look of regret washed over Atkin's face, and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "No. I don't expect you to just give him to me. My zeal for solving a case has come at great deficits to my men in the past- I can admit to that. There's been an official reprimand, and while I've been remiss in the past, I'm working to make sure my men get some rest and relief from duty whenever possible. I didn't expect you to send him alone. I assumed you'd accompany him- you don't like him straying too far from you.".

Roy paused. "I have things to do.".

Atkins fished in his coat pocket, pulling to slips of paper. "I have clearance from the brass to take you both with me to West City. The brass has granted you extensions on any relevant deadlines. They want this killer caught before he reaches double digits. They know you and Fullmetal nailed the last case. Where is the Fullmetal Alchemist, anyways?".

Roy shrugged. "Supposedly Hamlet. That's what I wrote his pass for. But he tends to stray off track sometimes- if you're lucky you can call the right hotel.".

"Right. We'll need to retrieve him as soon as possible and head west..."

"I haven't agreed to work with you yet, you know." Mustang said simply.

Atkins look pained. "The paperwork says you have to. To be honest, Colonel, I was hoping we could be professional about this..."

"We can. But I have conditions. I call the shots when it comes to Fullmetal. If I say he's had enough, he's had enough. No more of this crap of making him stare at dead bodies until he faints. And I brief him on the case. I don't know how much he wants to talk to you, after last time...".

There was a loud clanking from down the hall, and everyone looked up, surprised.

Hawkeye rushed out the door into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

Roy's subordinates exchanged glances, moving to get back to work quickly.

"What was that?" Atkins asked, looking puzzled.

"That would be the Elric brothers. Edward's brother tags along sometimes. But Ed won't want him involved in a murder case, and he has no need to be here today, so Lieutenant Hawkeye is probably sending him home...".

Atkins didn't need to see Alphonse. The man was a social pariah, for sure, but he was in special investigations for a reason- he'd probably be able to deduce Alphonse was hollow. That was something they didn't need.

The door to the office swung open, and Ed stepped into the room, looking slightly miffed. He never did like being separated from Alphonse. But when he saw Lieutenant Colonel Atkins standing before Roy's desk, his expression morphed from surprise to understanding, and then his golden eyes hardened into something unreasonable.

"Atkins. Fancy seeing you here." he turned, heading towards his desk.

Roy sighed. "Come take a seat in front of the desk, Fullmetal. We have some things to discuss."

"Well. I assume you have more murders you can't solve."

Atkins nodded. "Unfortunately, you're correct."

Ed was surprisingly quiet. He seemed to be resigning himself to something. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible. The Colonel will be coming with us, if that makes you feel any better." Atkins looked concerned.

Ed heaved a sigh. "I want all the casefiles. And I want my own train compartment. I don't want to talk to either of you until we get there.".

"That can be arranged." Atkins reached into his pocket, pulling a train ticket from his pocket and extending it to Ed. "Train leaves in two hours. I'll give you all the casefiles at the train station.".

"Right. See you then." Ed stood, grabbing his briefcase and trudging towards the door.

Roy frowned. It wasn't usual for Ed to take his assignment so... complacently.

"Is he alright?" Atkins asked, cocking an eyebrow at Roy.

Roy heaved a sigh. "Hell if I know. He seemed to be doing fine until you came over here.".

BREAK

"But why can't I come with you? I could help!" Al sounded as upset as a suit of armor could get. "And I don't understand- why are they putting you specifically on all these murder cases all of a sudden? Does it have something to do with the child killer case you solved?"

Ed sighed, shoulders hunched from where he was currently throwing fresh clothes into his suitcase. "Yeah. It does. They like the way I chase down killers. And apparently, I'm pretty good at it..." he never was good at lying to Al. All he could do was omit the truth.

"Well I'm your brother! I bet I'm just as good as you are! Let me come along and help!"

Ed frowned. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because there's a man from special investigations working the case. One look at you and he'll know you're hollow. He'll piece together what we did- he already knows about the automail. And then you get shipped off to a lab and I rot in jail."

"You don't really think this guy would tell the government about us, do you?" Al's soulfire eyes were wide.

Ed sighed, shoulders slumping. "I honestly don't know, Al. This guy tries to do everything by the books. I don't trust anyone in the military but Mustang- and that's just because he's had the chance to turn us in for a promotion for years but never took the opportunity. Instead, he's made it his mission in life to stay in our business like an annoying bastard.".

"But brother- the Colonel has helped us.".

"Yeah. He has."

"And now he's just letting you go with this fanatic investigator man?"

"No. The Colonel is coming too."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Alphonse tried.

"It would be- except that the Colonel is a nosy Bastard who gets far too involved in my business. I've said it before." Ed said simply.

"But at least you can trust him. Would you rather he just ship you off with that awkward investigator guy?"

"If he did, then at least I'd be able to breathe. He stifles me, when I'm working, gets too concerned about things..."

"He care about us though."

"He can give me a sticker and a promotion once I get home." Ed glowered. "Right now, everyone is probably just going to get in my way. This won't be fun at all.".

"Of course not- it's a murder investigation. But you'll save people. You always do." Al said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Ed scoffed, and turned his attention to latching his suitcase. He hated it when Al looked at him like he had all the answers. Because he wasn't a superhero- he wasn't full of answers. His arrogance was what had gotten Al into that suit of armor and lost him his limbs in the first place.

"You'll call, won't you?" Al's voice was small. "When you get there?". Al's voice was quiet, and Ed realized if he was gone, Al was going to be all alone in the dorms. Al got anxious at times without him nearby. Without another living, breathing person to care for, Al had no meals to make- no one to badger to get some sleep- and having all that time with no sleep or anything was enough to make anyone anxious.

Ed sighed. "Yes. I'll call. Sorry for being so... moody. You'll be alright here? By yourself?".

Al nodded, helmet creaking. "Yes, I will. We have lots of books on the philosopher's stone now, I'll read them all and take notes for you..."

Ed heaved a sigh. "Thanks. I want you to go to the office, during the days- I know you don't need food or sleep, but I don't want you to be lonely. And if everyone there is busy, you can go to the library, or call Hughes, okay?"

"Okay." Al sounded more cheerful at the notion. Little did Ed know, the suit of armor was plotting how many stray cats he could smuggle into the dorm room before Ed got back.

The clock chimed, and Ed grabbed his suitcase, heading for the door.

"Well- I'm off. We should reach West City in eight hours..."

"Call when you get the chance." Al asked.

"As soon as I get to the hotel, I promise.".

---

The next thing he knew, his shoulder was being gently shook as the train whistled.

The last thing he'd remembered was laying down on the bench in the train compartment to read. But here it was, two-am, and they'd arrived in West City.

Or something like that.

"What?"

"I said it's time to get up, Fullmetal." Mustang was gathering up the casefiles he'd let fall to the floor in his sleep.

Ed sat up, his hair sticking up at odd angles. He frowned at the odd taste in his mouth and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bench and grabbing his suitcase out from beneath the seats in time to shamble off the train with Mustang.

The station was nearly deserted due to the early hour, and he was tired as hell.

He focused on following the blue form in front of him that was Mustang, because he honestly had no idea what hotel they had reservations for.

There was half a moon tonight, and occasionally it peered out from around the night clouds, bathing everything silver.

Mustang and Atkins were discussing something, and Ed paused, taking a moment to notice the moonlight shining on some crocuses. He smiled slightly. His mother had planted crocuses in the spring. They stayed closed at night, but in the morning, he wondered if they'd bloom...

Mustang was saying something about getting briefed on the command post tomorrow morning, and they were taking a left down a side street.

Ed paused- the moon peered out from among the clouds, and a bit further down the block, he could see the mirror-like reflection of the moonlight off a canal that ran through west city. And kneeling before the canal, draped in a tick shawl on her knees, was a woman. Her head was bowed- Ed wondered if she was praying or crying. It was hard to tell.

A chill March wind cut through the area, and he turned, looking back at Mustang and Atkins for a moment, before deciding. He'd just go tell that woman to stay off the streets and then catch up with Mustang and Atkins.

He turned, jogging down the street to the corner and pausing.

It was two-am, and the moon ducked behind a cloud. He stumbled across the street in darkness, getting to the sidewalk beside the canal.

In the inky darkness, the woman was knelt nearly unmoving, hands over her face.

"Hey! You shouldn't be out here! There's some serial killer in this town, you need to go home...".

A muffle sob was his only answer.

Ed frowned, bending down slightly to place his hand on her shawl-covered shoulder. "Hey- are you alright?".

The moon swung back out from behind the clouds, and as soon as his hand made contact with her shoulder, she melted onto the white sidewalk like black tar.

Ed blinked. "What the hell?"

A muffled sob carried to him on the wind- he knelt down next to the inky puddle on the cement- it was dripping into the canal in big inky gobs.

He watched it, fascinated.

"Um... lady? You okay?" he was on his knees. He reached out and touched the dwindling puddle of black tar left on the cement, and it felt as though he'd been drenched in freezing water. Despair washed over him ten times over, and the wind whipped his red coat around him, carrying with it the sound of more sobbing.

There was nothing left of the black tar on the sidewalk now- it'd all dripped into the canal. And from the surface of the water, there was a single hand breaking the surface, reaching towards him...

Do you want me to take your hand? Do you need me to pull you out of the canal? Are you under water?

The only answrs to his questions were more tears on the wind.

A moment later someone was bodily grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around.

He'd let his guard down, and he expected to come face-to-face with the killer, only to find Mustang staring at him.

"What the hell were you doing?" Lieutenant Colonel Atkins was standing behind Mustang, looking concerned.

Ed blinked. "I was looking for the lady.".

Roy frowned. "You just wandered off without telling us. You've been missing for twenty minutes, and there's a killer on the loose.".

"There was a woman here. She was crying." Ed turned, dropping back to his knees. "She might be in the water- I saw her hand..." he plunged his arm into the canal, only getting soaked up to the shoulder in freezing spring canal water for his efforts.

"I swear, she was here! I tried talking to her but she just cried, and then she melted and now she's gone.". Ed frowned, turning to Atkins expectantly. "Have there been any dead bodies around here?".

Atkins pursed his lips, shaking his head. "No. There's been no victims recovered around here. It's almost 3am."

"I know what I saw, Mustang!" Ed snapped.

Mustang heaved a sigh. "I never said you didn't see anything. But there's nothing here now, and you can't go running off on your own in the middle of the night.".

"She was here. She was crying.". Ed said seriously.

"I believe you." Mustang said, though he was still looking concerned.

"Let's come back here tomorrow. We'll get settled in the hotel tonight and come back when it's daylight to feel this place out more.". Atkins declared.

Ed stood, brushing off his knees and deciding that was good enough for him. They headed towards the hotel, though this time Mustang brought up the rear. Ed could feel his superior's eyes on his back, and he turned to shoot Mustang an annoyed glare- he wasn't a toddler who needed to be supervised here, he'd just needed to check out a lead. It wasn't his fault he was the only one who could see this shit.

He'd turn around and shoot Mustang a glare every now and then. He was feeling especially standoffish now, and as soon as they got their hotel room- two twin beds and a cot- he threw his suitcase to the side and jumped onto the bed furthest from the door, burying his face in the pillow.

It might've been childish, but he didn't care.

Mustang ignored his obvious sulking. Atkins watched him, and frowned. "You should take your boots off before you sleep. We'll go back there first thing tomorrow, I promise."

Ed pursed his lips and said nothing, peeling off his boots and standing, pulling back the curtains to look out the window. The moon peered out from beneath a cloud, and he looked out the window at the deserted street below and frowned. It was so empty, so deserted... Suddenly, he felt very alone.

I don't want to be here. The thought rose to the forefront of his mind unbidden, the loneliness like a sucker punch to the gut.

He actually had to pause to a moment, because the crushing loneliness made it hard to breathe. He pulled the curtains shut, climbing back onto his bed and beneath the covers. It took him ten minutes of squirming around to find a comfortable position- he couldn't get the anxiety out of his bones, the need to move and do something was too strong...

Ed sat up to find Atkins laying on the cot propped against the opposite wall, watching him.

"We go back tomorrow?" he asked hopefully, meaning the canal.

Atkins nodded. "First thing after breakfast. I promise.".

"Okay.". he laid back down, feeling something within his stomach squirm- the fluttering surprised him for a moment- he'd never felt anything like that before. Man. I must be more nervous than I thought about being here. was his last coherent thought, before he let sleep drag him under.

Chapter 3: Day One

He woke up at seven am with a headache. Special Investigator Atkins was already awake- he had his briefcase open and was quietly leafing through some papers. Mustang was still asleep.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing the phone and dialing a familiar number.

A familiar hollow voice picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

He allowed himself a small smile at his brother's tinny voice. "Hey Al. I forgot to call you yesterday- we got in at like 2am, so I just crashed. Sorry.".

"It's alright. How's West City?".

"It's alright." his head throbbed more insistently, and he frowned. "Anyways- I have to get ready. We're gonna be heading out soon. I just wanted to call to check in. I'll call again when I get some free time, okay?"

"Alright. Talk to you soon.".

He hung up the phone and laced up his boots, nodding to Atkins as he grabbed his pocketwatch out of his pocket and headed downstairs. They had to have some kind of painkillers for sale there.

He bought a bottle of aspirin and a black coffee, popping two pills and washing it down with the bitter drink before he was tucking the pills in his pocket, sighing in relief as he felt his headache recede slightly.

When he let himself back into the hotel room, Mustang was awake, and saying something to Atkins. They both stopped talking when he walked into the room, and Atkins cleared his throat nervously as Mustang looked at him curiously.

"Been out exploring, Fullmetal?"

Ed grunted, holding up his Styrofoam cup by way of explanation. "Coffee.".

"You know that will stunt your growth." Atkins spoke up quietly.

Ed narrowed his eyes slightly at the man, before deciding it wasn't worth it to scream at him so early in the morning. So instead he perched on the edge of his bed, peering at the sunlight streaming through the curtains curiously as he nursed his coffee cup.

"We going back to the canal today?" Ed asked hopefully.

Atkins nodded. "First thing, like I promised. From there I figured I'd take you guys on a walk to where all the bodies were discovered and look at some crime scene photos." Atkins hesitated before he said the next part. "I figured in the evening- I'd take you to the morgue. We still have three of the bodies there, I was hoping you'd look at them and maybe hear something...".

Mustang didn't look thrilled by the idea, but Ed nodded anyways. "Might as well.".

"Right. We'll stop and get breakfast and head out, then...".

He wasn't hungry. He grabbed a muffin at the little store in the hotel anyway, just to avoid questions from everyone, but ended up breaking it into crumbs and scattering it for the pigeons on their walk around the city.

As promised, they headed back to the canal first thing. Ed strode over to the bank eagerly, peering into the water and expecting to see something- if not a victim, then at least some trace of the black tar puddle she'd dripped into- only to come face-to-face with his own reflection in the crystal clear water.

"The canals here are really clean." Mustang remarked from behind him.

Atkins nodded. "The water in West City comes from the river on the mountains. There's not a lot of pollution, so the water is crystal clear here."

Ed frowned. The canal looked to be seven or eight feet deep. And there was nothing- no inkling as to why the woman had drawn him here last night. He put his hand into the water and felt the coldness of it bite into his skin. He closed his eyes and listened. But there was nothing.

He frowned.

Why have you gone quiet? You wanted me to come here yesterday... so why aren't you here anymore?

"Are you getting anything, Fullmetal?" Atkins asked quietly from where he'd been standing a little ways back.

Ed frowned. "No. Nothing.".

"That's strange. They normally talk to you, don't they?" Atkins asked.

Ed frowned, nodding. "Yes. I don't know why she's gone quiet..." he resisted the urge to shudder as a chill wind whipped around them. Suddenly he was feeling pretty hopeless- maybe he'd imagined everything. Maybe whoever he'd seen didn't want his help.

"Maybe you'll get something somewhere else. We can stop back here on the way to the hotel tonight. Do you want to go visit the crime scenes?".

Ed nodded, and they wordlessly continued on. He paused and looked behind him one more time when a gust of wind blew- because he could've sworn he heard a woman crying.

He found himself looking at chalk outlines on the bloodstained pavement for the better part of the morning. Six dead women. He got colder at some points, and he could still hear crying on the wind- but other than that, there was absolute silence in his mind. It was strange.

"They're not talking." he admitted, frustrated.

Atkins frowned. "Nothing?"

"Nothing." Ed scuffed the toe of his boot on the cobblestones, unsure what else to say.

Mustang said nothing, though his dark eyes watched Ed carefully.

Atkins looked concerned, but did his best to hide it. "It's alright. We still have two more crime scenes to visit, and then the morgue... I'm sure you'll find something...".

Ed ended up looking at cracks in the cement sidewalk full of dried blood.

He frowned, crouching before the crack.

What happened to you?

There was resistance around him- the air seemed to get about ten degrees colder. Something shoved him, and he ended up falling on his ass on the sidewalk. "What the hell?"

"You got something?" Mustang asked him quietly.

Ed frowned, shaking his head. "Something pushed me. Come on- talk to me- I'm trying to help you!"

His head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging.

Mustang was pulling him to his feet, and he exchanged glances with Atkins nervously. "You see that on his face?"

Atkins nodded. "Yes. I do.".

"See what on my face?" Ed frowned, pressing his hand to his stinging cheek.

"There's a handprint of your face like someone slapped you." Atkins said simply.

Ed sighed. "Is that what happened to you? I'm trying to help!" he spoke aloud, frustrated with his lack of results.

The only answer was a gust of wind. Something unintelligible was whispered in his ear- he didn't know what it was, but whatever it was made his stomach drop, and he took a few steps back, stuffing his hands in his pockets so nobody would see they'd started to shake.

"We can leave now."

"Did they say anything?" Mustang asked curiously.

Ed shook his head, casting a glance over his shoulder nervously. "No. But whatever it is- it doesn't want us here anymore.".

---

The morgue was his favorite outing of the day- not because he got anything from it, but because it was less chaotic feeling than every other place they'd been that day. He unzipped the black body bags, trying to pretend the naked autopsied women beneath were just mannequins instead of people.

He circled each metal table carefully, wincing when he saw the grisly knife wounds on their breasts and the fatal wound0 a slid throat for each woman.

They were a range of ages- one in her thirties, one mid-twenties with curly brown hair, and one couldn't have been over 18, but she had blonde hair and blue eyes like Winry, and he quickly zipped that body bag shut again, unable to look at her anymore.

"So- they all had their throats slit, huh?" Ed asked quietly.

"Yeah. They did."

He felt a stabbing pain in his lower abdomen and frowned, cocking his head. "Genital mutilation? Or stab wounds?"

Atkins nodded. "There was stab wounds to the abdomen on all of them. And the breasts are pretty mutilated, as you can see... Are you going to ask them what happened?".

Ed frowned, shaking his head. "Asking is what got me slapped at the last crime scene. They'll talk if they want to. I'll hang around and listen if they want to talk. But for some reason, this case- it's different from the last one. Patrick was my friend, he trusted me, but whenever I try to talk to these women, it's like trying to hold water in your hands- it doesn't work. I don't know why.".

Ed frowned, walking away from the autopsy tables and coming face to face with what looked to be an elaborate set of drawers in the wall of the morgue.

He cocked his head at them, uncertain.

"Those are the cold drawers." Atkins explained. "They're refrigerated drawers that slide out so we can place bodies in them for longer periods of time.".

Ed nodded, and Atkins went and pulled one open partially. Ed could see cold, pale toes pointing upward.

"Neat. Winry would geek out over the refrigeration system."

He grabbed a chair, sitting down in front of the three steel autopsy tables that were occupied and watching patiently.

Atkins and Mustang lingered behind him at some points, but otherwise, he was alone, simply waiting and listening.

Every now and then there was a whisper- he couldn't quite make out what was said, though. And the cold- it seemed to seep into his bones, and he could feel the hopelessness in the room, the desperation, the shame...

"Fullmetal. We should get back to the hotel."

"What?"

"It's been hours. Are you alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine." he said, but he hated how close to breaking his own voice sounded.

"You're shaking.".

"It's freezing in here." he got to his feet quickly, wiping the back of his sleeveacross his eyes to hide any emotions before they'd be spotted.

The walk back to the hotel room was mostly silent, though he could tell Mustang and Atkins were both watching him. He stopped by the edge of the canal again in the same place that'd drawn him in the night before, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try and steady himself.

Why won't they talk to me? Why don't you want me to help you?

Silence was his only answer.

Cynicism bubbled up within him like vomit, and he bit his lip. You're just a fucking failure. This case is hopeless. No one cares about these women anyways. You're naive to think you can help him. You might as well just take a few more steps into the canal and let it wash you away.

The words came to his mind unbidden, and he stepped away from the canal, surprised.

Where the hell did that come from? he thought, shocked at the unusual thoughts.

He noticed two children playing hopscotch on the sidewalk while and older woman who looked to be thirty sat on her front porch stoop with a baby in her lap and watched.

It was getting dark, and Atkins walked over and encouraged her to take her children inside where it was safe, and so she did.

"Fullmetal- are you doing okay?" Mustang asked him while Atkins was gone.

Ed frowned, giving Mustang a look. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?".

Mustang sighed. "You seem on edge."

Ed frowned. "This case is different from the other one."

"In what way?"

"I don't know! But it is." Ed snarled.

"Okay then. Just... try to relax. Let's go back to the hotel and eat something. Things might make more sense in the morning after some rest.".

Ed scoffed. "I fucking doubt it.".

Roy raised his eyebrows at the kid's sudden attitude. "Okay. Well let's try it anyways."

"Whatever.".

Dinner at the hotel restaurant actually was pretty good. But Ed couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that was clinging to him like a dark cloud. Even as he sat in his bed in the hotel, when Mustang looked at him, he had the incredible, guilty urge to look away- like he couldn't meet the man's eyes.

He had no idea why, but he felt like he'd done something terrible and felt two inches tall. Dinner didn't settle well in his stomach, and he ended up wrapping himself in the bedsheets, ignoring the way he felt like he'd swallowed rocks that were buzzing and squirming in his belly. He stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

Any reviews are appreciated!

Chapter 4: Day Two

He woke up confused with a sour taste in his mouth.

For a moment he wasn't sure where he was- it took two seconds for him to remember they were in the hotel. It took approximately another second for him to realize he was about to vomit.

He staggered into the bathroom and dropped to his knees, retching.

A moment later, he was throwing up last night's dinner.

Unfortunately, due to the fact he'd literally just woken up, he'd been neither quiet or discrete. He hadn't even had time to close the bathroom door.

Someone was crouching down behind him and pulling his hair back.

And even though it was Mustang, he was glad he was there, because he hadn't had time to pull his hair back, and he really didn't feel like washing vomit out of his hair later.

"Take it easy, Fullmetal." the familiar voice brought him some comfort as it echoed off the tiled bathroom walls.

Somewhere in the background, he could hear Atkins asking if he was alright. Mustang said something to him about water, but it was hard to hear over the blood roaring in his ears, and he heard the door of the hotel room close behind him.

He pitched forward, another mouthful of vomit splashing into the bowl, before he finally felt he was done.

He laid his forehead on the cool toilet seat. Mustang stood, though he kept a firm hand on his back. At the moment, that hand on his back was the only thing holding him steady, and he appreciated it.

There was water running in the sink. A cold wet rag was pressed to the back on his neck. It felt like heaven, since he was currently a sweaty, exhausted mess.

"Are you done?" Roy asked.

Ed nodded, picking his head up and blinking.

There was a large hand feeling his forehead. Mustang frowned, brows furrowing. "You don't have a fever.".

He handed Ed the wet cloth- he eagerly wiped his forehead and mouth, shrugging. "Think it was something I ate. I felt kind of weird after dinner last night."

"Right.".

The door of the hotel room opened, and Atkins stepped back into the room.

He eagerly rinsed his mouth out with a mouthful from the water bottle he was offered, and choked down two chalky tablets of stomach medicine they gave him before he was standing, moving back towards his bed.

"So- when are we leaving? I want to go back to the morgue.".

Mustang looked at him. "You're not up to investigating today.".

"I actually feel a lot better. I think I just had to get it out of my system." Ed tried. He really did feel a lot better- maybe he'd just had to hurl.

Atkins was looking at him carefully, analyzing. "Lay down for awhile. We'll see how you're doing this afternoon.".

Ed sighed, flopping back onto his bed and climbing beneath the covers. His stomach gave a twinge and a flutter, and he swallowed convulsively, resolving to stay still. Before he could ruminate too much on the matter, he was asleep again.

---

He woke up feeling sweaty and confused.

Atkins was leafing through casefiles on his cot, and Mustang looked over at him from where he was reading on his own bed when he sat up.

Ed blinked, scrubbing at his eyes. "What time is it?"

He felt like he'd lives another lifetime. He had no idea why, but he felt like he'd woken up from a long dream.

"Quarter to noon." Atkins said calmly.

Ed sighed. He'd wasted an entire morning sleeping.

"Right. I feel great. Let's get to the morgue."

Mustang looked at Ed over his folded hands skeptically. "You're sure you're up for this?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just need a quick shower- I feel a lot better. Don't tell me you've never got food poisoning before."

When he was done in the shower and had dressed himself, he stepped back into the room.

Atkins and Mustang were discussing something, but they stopped talking when he stepped back into the room.

Mustang didn't look happy on the way to the morgue, but Ed saw a man of about thirty with thinning brown hair reading a paper on the bench before the canal.

He paused where he was walking. "Hey- have you ever seen a lady in a shawl around here before?"

The man had wire-framed glasses that were slightly crooked. He frowned, shaking his head. "I can't say I have." Ed noticed the man was kind of absent-minded. He was wearing two different shoes, plaid pants, and a brown vest with a pocket watch.

"Do you sit here and read the paper everyday?"

The man nodded, his glasses slipping down his nose as he did. "Yes. Everyday, unless it rains. Then I stay home and listen to the radio.".

"You ever seen anything weird around here?"

The man paused, looking like he was thinking about something. He nodded. "I saw a pigeon get stepped on the other day. Normally they move out of your way, but this one didn't. It just flapped its wings and sat somewhere else.".

"...right..." Ed realized he was probably wasting his time. "Thanks for your time.".

"No problem. Stay safe, kid. There's a crazy killer out here.".

There the same woman sitting on the front stairs of her apartment building with a toddler in her lap while her two children played hopscotch.

The morgue was deathly quiet.

He pulled up a stool and sat before the body bags quietly, staring intently.

The only sound was the hum of the fluorescent lights above him and the smell of rubbing alcohol.

Who killed you? And what happened? I'm trying to help.

...worthless trashy no good hussy... Useless whore. Disappointment.

The words were whispered around him and seemed to drift out of the corners of the room.

Ed heaved a sigh. "I don't understand. Why won't you talk to me?"

I don't want your help.

A voice that was barely above a whisper that dripped hatred drifted over.

Why not?

I don't deserve it. this voice was more forlorn and even quieter than the other one.

Ed frowned. No one deserves to die like you did.

Leave us alone!

The voice came from right beside him, and a hand squeezed his shoulder. He sat ramrod-straight, feeling a warm breath on his neck.

Just. Leave. Don't ask questions about things you don't want to know.

Ed let out a slow breath.

The fluorescent lights above him flickered. He frowned, looking up at them for a split second. When they flickered back on, the form on middle steel autopsy table was still shrouded in the black, zipped up body bag but was sitting up, ramrod straight, unmoving.

Ed froze for a moment, eyes widening.

The person in the body bag let out a guttural, hate-filled scream that startled him so bad he fell off his stool, scrambling on his backside and covering his ears. Against every instinct he closed his eyes.

Muffled voices called him back to the world.

Someone was behind him with a hand on his back, and someone was prying his hands off his ears.

"Fullmetal. Ed. What. happened." Mustang was asking him.

Ed blinked, slowly coming back to himself. "You didn't see it?"

"See what?"

"The dead body sitting up and screaming. I'm trying. I'm asking questions, but they don't want to talk..." frustration gave way to a splash of anger.

He heard a resounding, metallic bang from behind him and whirled, looking over at the cold lockers on the wall.

"What the hell was that?" he was on his feet, making his way to the furthest locker on the left. He looked up at Atkins. "Can you open this?".

Atkins looked hesitant, but did as Ed requested. Pale feet with stiff white toes pointed up towards the ceiling.

He was hit with feelings out of left-field. Disbelief, fear, shame. Pain.

"This guy was one of our victims.".

Atkins frowned. "I don't know if I believe that. He was in a robbery gone wrong, he tried to fight off a mugger and got cut. He doesn't fit the killer's profile. He only goes for women.".

He felt cold metal on his flesh arm and a sting of parting flesh, and he jolted. "Fuck!"

He was rolling up his sleeve, coming face to face with a long but shallow cut on his arm that wept blood.

"Did that just happen to you?" Atkins asked, looking alarmed.

"Yeah." Ed was watching the blood trail down from the shallow cut and drip off his elbow onto the white tile floor below him.

What the hell are they trying to tell me?

He pulled the drawer out further, completely exposing the naked corpse with the toe tag and glassy blue eyes.

Ed wordlessly peeled the man's left arm away from his body, coming face to face with a large laceration on the inside of the man's arm.

"So- this was the fatal wound. You called me over here to show me this.".

"It's a man. And his throat wasn't slit.". Mustang pointed out.

Ed shrugged. "So? The feelings are the same around all four corpses. They're from the same killer. The killer changed up their pattern here, but this guy bled out, didn't he?"

"Yes. From knife wounds secondary to a robbery.". Mustang said, clearly not following.

Ed shook his head. "These women had their throats slit. Not sawed. Whoever got them made sure to slit the carotid arteries so they bled out. This guy- right above the bend of his inner elbow, he's got a nice slit with surgical precision. I'm not doctor, but they made sure to get the brachial artery. He bled out within five minutes. Same cause of death. This killer gets off on letting the victims bleed out. They wanted to change the method and the victim so we'd be thrown off. But he's tied to this- he's into this somehow. But why..."

Ed frowned, lifting up the dead man's hand. There was a ring on his left hand. Ed wordlessly set the man's arm back down in the cold drawer, walking back over to the women on the table. He stopped in front of the middle autopsy table and was hit with a wave of sadness.

"So. That's why you're upset. He belonged to you. Or was close to you, at least." Ed admitted. He nodded to Atkins. "These two are involved somehow. Don't ask me how, but they knew each other."

Atkins nodded. "Okay. I'll grab his autopsy report and compare it to hers." he turned and ducked out of the morgue, in search of the documents.

The scratch on his arm had gone from dripping blood to sluggishly welling blood, and he wordlessly rolled down his sleeve and took up his position on the stool again.

"Are you doing alright?" Mustang asked him seriously.

Ed nodded absently. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You seem on edge. You're tense. This is different than the last time.".

Ed scoffed. "Yeah. Last time they wanted my help. This time they won't talk to me." he was frustrated and almost resentful. And for some reason- he didn't know why- but he felt like everyone was judging him, like he'd done something horribly wrong, and like if anyone found out he'd be in a lot of trouble.

He frowned, shooting Mustang a glare. "I don't like it when you hover over me. You keep watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake.".

Mustang blinked. "You're getting emotionally involved in this case. When you follow your feelings, you get overwhelmed. You tend to have a one-track mind, and when you're seeing the stuff you're seeing, your perception isn't always right." He remembered the time Ed had climbed onto the railing of the catwalk forty feet up in the old factory and reached out to try and pull in a hanging corpse, heedless of the forty foot drop below him.

Ed paused, giving Mustang a look. "So you don't trust me."

"Where is all this coming from? I thought we were on good terms, but ever since we've been here you've been different and on edge..."

I did a horrible thing. I made a horrible mistake. I deserve everything that happens to me. This is my punishment.

I didn't deserve any of this.

Ed sighed. "More cryptic bullshit. I don't know, okay? I don't know! They aren't talking to me, they're just harassing me! I don't know what happened, but whatever did, it was horrible and they say they deserve it and they just want me to leave!"

Mustang nodded. "They want you to leave. So let's go back to the hotel and try to talk about this and get a new perspective.".

Ed sighed, climbing back onto his stool. "No. I just need more time here. They'll understand, I just have to keep talking to them. Even if they don't want my help, stopping this guy before he kills someone else is important.".

Roy frowned. "This isn't healthy. And I'm not sure it's helping."

"This got us the ONLY lead we've had on this case. Leave me alone!" Ed snapped, crossing his arms.

Roy wanted to snap back- the atmosphere was electric, a bunch of retorts swirled around in his mind- but instead, he turned and walked out of the morgue, stepping into the cold tiled hallway. Ed was going through something he didn't understand, and he clearly needed alone time. This case was far different from the child-killer in the abandoned factory.

Here, it seemed like the spirits were antagonistic rather than helpful. And Ed was frustrated because he wasn't making the progress they wanted. And the spirits were more violent and more willing to harm Ed, if the violent reactions they'd witnessed and the cut that'd just appeared on the boy's arm was anything to go by.

Truthfully, Roy wanted nothing more than to take the kid and go back to East City. Except they hadn't made any progress yet, and Ed might just be grasping at straws, and he was going to be hard to drag away from the case when he felt he hadn't solved it...

---

Ed sat on the stool, watching the fluorescent light above one of the autopsy tabled flicker and die.

Stupid. Worthless. Can't believe I trusted you.

I did all this for nothing.

I hate you! I had a life to live and dreams to chase and you stole  everything  from me!

"Who? Who hurt you?"

It doesn't matter!

"It matters to me."

...that's because you don't know what we did.

We did what we had to do. It was my choice, it's fine!

Lay down on the floor and be dead with us.

The different voices- one sadly soft, one enraged, one apathetic- swirled around him.

"What?"

Lay down and be dead with us. I'll show you a dream that went badly.

He stood, moving to sit on the cool white tile floor between two of the steel autopsy tables on the floor.

"...okay. I'm here. What do you want to show me?"

His stomach turned uncomfortably, and he gasped, slightly surprised, placing a hand on his stomach.

...will you judge me for my sins?

It wasn't a sin! It was our right!

It was at that moment a glass jar of cotton swabs went flying across the room and shattered.

---

Mustang stood in the hallway, heaving an exasperated sigh. It was never easy working murder cases, but watching Ed get thrown through the emotional rollercoaster and trying to find answers in madness was hard enough.

Atkins jogged into the hallway, looking excited, papers fluttering in his hand.

"He was right.".

Roy blinked. "He was?"

Atkins nodded. "Yeah. His paperwork- on paper, this man and that woman have nothing in common. But they were engaged to be married.".

Roy blinked. "So the killer killed the woman and her fiancé?".

Atkins nodded eagerly. "Exactly! They changed the location of the fatal wound from the throat to the arm to bleed them out and throw us off, but he was right!"

At that moment, glass shattered from within the morgue, and Roy swore, turning and wrenching open the door, running back into the room.

Broken glass crunched beneath his and Atkin's military boots. The remains of a glass jar of cotton swabs were scattered on the white tile floor, and between the two autopsy tables Ed was laying on the tile floor on his back, hands folded behind his head.

Tears were streaming down his face, and he sniffed.

"Fullmetal. What the hell happened, we heard the glass break. What are you doing down there?" Atkins looked down at Ed, concerned.

Ed gave a shaky sigh. "I'm laying down pretending to be dead."

"Why?" Mustang asked.

Ed gave a laugh that could've been a sob. "Because she told me to. But they just keep arguing with each other, and now I'm cold and sad and I still don't know what they're saying.".

Roy sighed, crouching down. "Come on. We're done for the day. Get up off the floor."

Ed sniffed, sitting up and scrubbing his sleeve across his eyes trying to dry his tears.

"These feelings don't belong to me. But I can't get rid of them." Ed looked at Mustang sadly as he got to his feet.

Mustang heaved a sigh. "I know. You're exhausted. We'll get back to the hotel and you can eat and sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.".

"Okay.".

"You made some progress. You were right- the dead man and the woman have a connection. They were engaged." Atkins tried to be encouraging. Ed stopped walking, eyes brightening slightly. "I want to see the autopsy reports.".

Atkins hesitated, then shook his head. "I'll let you see them tomorrow." he promised. "You've had enough for today.".

Ed said nothing, trudging back towards the hotel.

It was well past dark as they made their way back to the hotel.

The doorman was smoking a pipe in a long green trench coat. He frowned when he saw Ed, who walked past him into the building without saying anything.

As soon as they got back into the hotel room, Ed climbed into bed and wrapped himself in his sheets.

Roy frowned. "What do you want for dinner?".

Ed shrugged. "I have no idea. Grilled cheese? Mac and cheese? Just something with cheese.".

Roy ordered room service.

They ate in relative silence, before Atkins spoke up.

"How's this case different than the last ones?"

Ed shrugged forlornly. "I dunno. The spirits are pissed and they don't want me to know what happened.".

"They're not talking as much, are they?" Roy proposed.

"No, they're not. I thought they were going to show me something tonight, but they got into a fight with each other and just started throwing things." he heaved a sigh. He had a headache. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, taking the opportunity to pop two aspirins.

He looked down at the bottle of pills in his hand curiously.

I wonder if I took the whole bottle if it'd kill me. I got myself into this mess, would it solve my problems without killing me?

He paused. When he looked in the bathroom mirror, brown eyes stared back at him.

Those aren't my eyes. My eyes are gold. These aren't my thoughts. I'm so tired of this shit. I don't want to do this anymore.

He took a breath and heaved a sigh, tucking the aspirin back into his pocket.

Go to sleep. You'll probably feel more like yourself in the morning.

Chapter 5: Night Two

He dreamed he was by the woman in the brown shawl by the canal.

She was sobbing, sobbing, crying. She raked her fingernails down her face until she drew blood, her guttural cries frightened him.

He knew she was sad, but she didn't say a word.

All he could tell was she was in great pain.

He stood beside her and asked question after question- but she never answered. She just cried.

When he looked down he saw there was a ring of blood on the sidewalk beneath her.

And just like before, she melted away into black tar and sunk to the bottom of the canal.

He woke up in a cold sweat a little after midnight.

He was on his feet before he really knew what he was doing, tugging on his boots and a shirt and looking out the window.

Mustang was a light sleeper. He'd wake up if he used the door.

He didn't know where Atkins was, but judging by the light peering out from the crack in the bathroom door, he was in there.

He was hit with a moment of indecision. Half of him wanted to talk to someone- anyone- about what he was seeing.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and he bit back a whimper at the feeling.

Everything had changed when he got to this town and saw that woman by the canal. He couldn't explain why.

He'd just sneak down to the canal and make sure she wasn't there. Why would she be there? He'd been looking for her for days, but he'd never seen her. He needed to be sure she wasn't real, then he'd come back here and go to bed.

He got to his feet- he didn't have a headache, and for once, he had some clarity. His mind was sharp and made up, and he wordlessly opened the second floor window of their hotel room and let himself out onto the fire escape, dropping down to the sidewalk below. He'd go to the canal just to make sure the lady wasn't there. And when she wasn't, he'd head back to the hotel room.

He took off at a dead sprint- it was only two blocks from the hotel after all, and he tore down the sidewalk and stood beside the canal.

The woman wasn't there.

But a spring breeze seemed to bite into him, and on the wind he could hear a woman's sobbing.

And his breath caught in his throat, because though there wasn't a woman kneeling by the canal, he could see the single human hand reaching above the water, begging for help.

Words swirled around him just out of reach. He could hear them being whispered on the wind, but he couldn't understand them.

But still, he knelt beside the water anyways, looking at the lady's hand anxiously.

She needed help. He'd take her hand and pull her out of the water, and then he'd help her as best he could.

He reached over from where he knelt and placed his hand in her own, intending to pull her from the canal. But she pulled him downwards instead, and he fell headfirst into the freezing water.

---

The only reason they realized he was gone so fast was because he'd taken off when Atkins had decided to get up and take a leak.

A moment later the light was being switched on and Mustang was being shaken awake.

"Mustang- get up!" Atkins was already pulling on his boots. "The kid's gone, door is locked from the inside, and the window's open."

"What the fuck!? He took off on his own again?"

"Yeah, he did. We have to move."

Mustang was already tugging on his pants and boots, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding.

"Do you think he went back to the morgue?" Atkins was sounding unnerved.

"There's a good possibility." Mustang didn't even finish lacing up his boots, and they took off down the stairs.

---

He was underwater.

The shock of the cold took hold of his body and assaulted him.

He hadn't expected to be pulled under the water, and he wasn't even holding his breath.

If I showed you my biggest regret, my only choice... would you judge me?

A woman's voice- so tearful, so desperate- sounded in his head above the roaring of his own pulse in his ears.

No. I want to help you.

There was a hand in his own- he'd sunk to the bottom of the canal by now, and the hand pulled him in deeper- he bent his knees, sinking into the soft dirt at the bottom.

Something was being shoved into his hand.

How do I know I can trust you?

I'm going to die down here. His chest was on fire, he was begging for air. I can't swim. I'm half made of metal.

The hand was touching his face now- pale white, icy cold.

Once you think you can't go on anymore- I'll find you. the woman's voice promised.

And then he was alone in the dark, sitting at the bottom of the canal.

He got to his feet and pushed off the bottom of the canal- he kicked and clawed at the water feverishly, and by some miracle, he managed to break the surface and gasp in a single breath of air before his automail weighed him back down.

He needed to get to the side of the canal, to claw his way onto the banks.

He was stuck in limbo- he managed to get his hand above the surface, but his strength was fading fast.

He was going to drown.

---

Mustang and Atkins were running along the sidewalk when Atkins paused.

He could've sworn he heard something in the canal. A desperate gasp, like someone was in there...

He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, before he saw a hand disappear beneath the surface of the water.

He yelled in alarm and dove into the water fully clothed.

Mustang turned at the massive splash of his companion diving into the canal, but he didn't have time to question it, because a moment later Atkins was surfacing, struggling to stay afloat, and he was holding something.

"Mustang! I got him!"

"Shit! Fullmetal..." Mustang's voice was stolen from him.

Ed was gasping raggedly, and Atkins quickly handed him to Mustang, before he was pulling his sodden self out of the canal to lay on the sidewalk beside them, shivering.

As soon as he was out of the water, Ed turned to the side, spitting up a mouthful of water and wheezing, gasping...

"How long was he in there?" Mustang sounded alarmed, and Atkins shook his head. "I don't know. But he's still breathing..."

Ed had curled into the fetal position, something clutched to his chest.

He was still gasping raggedly, catching his breath, and Mustang brushed his sodden blond bangs out of his face and looked down at his charge nervously.

"Fullmetal. What the hell happened?"

"The lady." Ed wheezed. "She pulled me in.".

His nose was steadily dripping blood onto the cement sidewalk. "It was so cold..." his teeth were starting to chatter. "She's coming back for me. She promised. She gave me something..."

He was clutching a soggy woman's shoe to his chest.

"Holy shit." Atkins muttered. He had to pry it out of Ed's grasp. Atkins looked at Mustang uncertainly. The man was soaking wet and starting to shiver convulsively as well. "Does he need a hospital?"

"No." Ed rasped.

Mustang had stripped off his blue coat and stood, wrapping Ed in it and picking him up. "He needs to get the hell away from here and out of these wet clothes.".

"S-sounds good to me." Atkins agreed.

It took Roy a moment to realize the other man was also drenched in freezing water.

They must've looked a sight when they stumbled back into the hotel room- him carrying Fullmetal and Atkins drenched to the bone in his own clothes.

Mustang held his tongue the whole way upstairs- it made no sense to chastise Ed for running off on his own when he was freezing cold.

He filled the tub of the hotel bathroom with as warm water as he could stand and dumped the teen in fully clothed, boots and all.

Atkins was a grown ass man- he had the sense to get out of his own wet clothes and take care of himself.

Fullmetal shivered but closed his eyes, looking marginally more comfortable in the warm water.

"Why the hell did you do that? What possessed you to run off on your own like that?" Mustang demanded, unnerved.

Ed's nose was still sluggishly bleeding, and he gave a wet shrug from where he was laying in the warm water, sopping wet, his hair like a halo in the water behind him.

"I had a dream about the lady. She only comes when I'm alone.".

"You almost drowned. You could've died. You would have- it was purely dumb luck we were out looking for you! If Atkins hadn't got lucky and heard you drowning we'd be pulling your body out of the canal in the morning! What would happen to Alphonse then?!"

Ed looked to be close to tears. "I don't... I dunno. I wasn't thinking about that...".

"Clearly, you weren't thinking about anything!" Mustang spat. He was going back to what he knew- like the first time he'd met the Elric brothers all those years ago, grabbing Ed by the shirt and shouting at a wheel-chair bound kid- when he was afraid and uncertain, the unwavering discipline the military had instilled took over.

Edward laughed. It was a hollow, humorless laugh, and he gave Mustang a sad smile.

"She asked for my help. She's the first one who's asked for it, during this entire case. I have to go back to the canal. I have to go back.".

"Jesus Christ Ed- you're going to get yourself killed. You're out of your mind." Mustang looked horrified.

Ed shook his head. "No- I'm close to answers. I'm close. You don't understand.". He'd stopped shivering and was laying in the tub apathetically now. "She was going to tell me everything. It was all making sense. I was so close.".

Mustang grabbed the boy by the shoulders, making him sit up. "You almost died. Do you want to die, Fullmetal? Do I have to take you back to the psych hospital, because I really don't want to, but if I have to to keep you safe, I will..." Mustang actually looked broken up about this.

Ed looked offended. "I'm not crazy. And I don't want to die. I just want to solve this case..."

"Nothing is worth your life." Mustang said seriously.

"I know." Ed said, looking equally as serious.

"Do you? Do you really?" Mustang said, looking at him uncertainly. "Because I'm not sure you do. Running off in the middle of the night, almost drowning- if you'd asked me to come with you, I'd have gone without a second thought. You don't think these things through, and one of these days, we might not find you in time...".

"Look, I'm sorry. Okay?" Ed looked sincere. He looked like he meant it. "I just had a feeling she was there, and I got carried away- I didn't mean to fall in. Honest.".

He was getting to his feet, still fully clothes and dripping water. He fumbled to pull off his wet coat and shirt, still standing in the tub sopping wet.

Roy frowned, handing the kid a towel and moving to grab him fresh clothes.

Five minutes later, Ed ducked out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and boxers, looking pale but more himself. It was nearly 1 in the morning.

He moved to go back to his own bed, but Roy shook his head. "We have two options here. Since We can't trust you not to go running off on your own- you either sleep in my bed where I keep an eye on you or one of us stays awake to watch you.".

Ed sighed, but said nothing, grabbing his pillow and climbing into Mustang's bed, turning to face the wall the bed was pressed against. He traced designs in the wallpaper for a few minutes before he was dead asleep.

Atkins was sitting up in his cot- he'd gotten himself into dry clothes and was wrapped in his blankets, but he looked over at them both a bit nervously.

"Is he alright?" he asked, looking at Ed with clear concern in his silver eyes.

Mustang sighed. "I don't know."

Atkins heaved a sigh. "Now probably isn't the best time to bring this up, but he gave me this after we pulled him from the canal." He held up the damp women's shoe. "It belonged to one of the victims. She was found further down in the canal with only one shoe. And she was the third victim in this whole thing. I only know this because I was there when she was pulled out of the water. It's not very clear or linear- but the kid is making progress.".

Mustang barked a laugh. "You call this progress? The kid almost died tonight. It was dumb luck that we were out there looking for him. Hell, I didn't even notice- I walked right by him while he was drowning. If you hadn't seen him we'd be fishing his corpse out the next day. You call this progress?"

Atkins sighed. "I agree that what happened tonight was unacceptable. But I don't think we should abandon the case so soon. I think his judgement is altered due to his paranormal gift- one of us needs to be supervising him at all times. For his own good. But he's onto something. This shoe- it's a new lead. We know where the third victim went into the canal. We can get a more accurate time of death and determine the time of the attack... I'm not going to let anything happen to the kid, Mustang." Atkins looked serious. He'd turned on the small desktop lamp and was holding the shoe in his hand.

"You might as well sleep. I'm going to be up looking at maps and the reports on the third victims and the shoe. I'll make sure the kid stays put."

Roy frowned. "Are you going to let him go back to the morgue tomorrow?"

Atkins looked hesitant. "I don't think it's a good idea. I was going to let him sleep in and then take him back to where the third victim was found, since he seems to have some sort of connection with her...".

"If this case keeps going like this- I might have to take him back to East City. For his own good." Mustang looked over at the sleeping blond beside him.

"I get it. The kid's life is more important than solving my case." Atkins admitted. "But with both of us, we should be able to keep a close eye on him and be sure that nothing like this happens again.".

Mustang frowned. He hoped Atkins was right.

He laid back on his bed, and to the scratch of Atkin's pencil making new report findings, and the chill of a cold metal foot against his leg, he fell asleep.

Chapter 6: Day Three- Another Victim

The phone in their hotel room was ringing.

Why was it ringing?

Roy cracked open his eyes to see Atkins had answered it and was talking to someone- and he didn't look pleased.

He hung up the phone and sighed.

Roy sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

"What is it?"

"We got another victim. Fresh body. This is escalating." Atkins didn't look pleased.

Roy looked over at the clock. In was a little after 10am.

"Wait- at 10am someone found a body?"

Atkins nodded. "Yeah. Same MO, slit throat. Someone grabbed this girl in broad daylight and took her into an alley." Atkins was looking disturbed. "This is escalating. The killer is getting more brash. They're still processing the scene...".

Atkins was looking over at Ed, who was still curled up in the blankets. He quirked his lips. "I'd like him to come with us. This is fresh- so fresh- he might get something.".

Roy didn't want to take the kid with them. But he couldn't really think of a good reason to say no. Atkins was right- the killer was getting more bold, the bodies more frequent.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ed sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

Mustang frowned. "There's another body."

Ed was already on his feet heading into the bathroom. He emerged five minutes later, dressed in his typical fashion. "Let's go.".

As they walked along, Ed walked along the canal on the sidewalk.

The woman with a toddler on her hip held her toddler and hung laundry to dry on a small line out her apartment window. The eccentric newspaper reader was sitting on his bench by the canal.

Roy noticed Atkins holding a plastic evidence bag with the women's shoe in it from last night.

"What happened to this one?"

"She was either grabbed by the assailant or lured into the alley and her throat was slit. She's a college student."

They continued to walk along. It was easy to find the crime-scene, since there was yellow crime-scene tape at the mouth of the alley.

Ed frowned, crouching to look at the cobblestones. There was no bloodstains at the mouth of the alley.

"She's pretty far in this dead-end to have been dragged. You'd think someone would've heard something if she tried to fight."

"What are you suggesting?" Mustang asked, looking over at Ed as they walked.

Ed shrugged. "Not sure. Just seems like a long way to be dragged by somebody if you're fighting tooth and nail. Maybe somebody she knew and trusted led her this way."

The scene was still swarming with crime scene photographers and detectives.

The girl was dressed in a knee-length brown plaid skirt and a cream colored blazer. Her school books were strewn about in a mess of papers and she was laying in a puddle of blood, lips parted in an expression of horror.

"Did they cut her vocal cords, or could they hear her screaming?" Mustang asked quietly.

Ed didn't bother to stick around to hear the man's answer, instead stepping as close to the body as he could without disturbing the pool of blood around her.

What happened to you?

He was hit with a wave of anxiety. "Mustang?" he turned, looking behind him reflexively.

"Yeah?"

"Just making sure you're still there." Ed said simply.

His heartrate was picking up, he could feel the blood starting to pound in his ears. God, why did he feel so alone?

His hands were starting to shake- he hadn't been this scared in awhile.

"Fullmetal?" Mustang had moved to stand closer to him, but even though the man was right next to him, he sounded like he was a million miles away.

And then. Everything. Stopped.

Mustang was next to him when he saw Ed's eyes roll back in his head, and he grabbed the kid and dragged him back, preventing him from making the gorey scene any worse of a mess.

"Ed? Edward?" Atkins looked alarmed.

"He's out cold." Mustang said simply, sitting the kid out on the pavement.

"You don't seem too concerned?" Atkins looked confused.

Mustang sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This has happened before. I took him to a crime scene right after he joined the military, forgot he was just a kid- sometimes, he passes out."

---

It was nighttime. And he was alone again. He was terrified- mostly because all he had was an address written on a crumbled up piece of paper in his hands. But he hurried down the street anyways- this was the only option he had- otherwise, he'd have to drop out of school and move back home.

He frowned, hurrying along, watching the house numbers as he went. On his right he could see the canal, and he looked down at the paper nervously. The only thing legible were the house numbers- the street name had been blurred by his tears hitting the page.

He wished he'd been brave enough to tell someone. Anyone. But the only person who knew was the doctor. He wished he'd asked his roommate to come with him.

His stomach fluttered nervously, and he paused, hand flying to his stomach and tears springing to his eyes. He kept walking anyways. He was nearly there, now. In the distance, he could see a house alongside the canalside sidewalk. Three candles burned in the window, just like they'd said there would be.

He stood on the stairway in front of number 443, anxious and nauseas. Was he really about to go through with this? His stomach jolted again, and nausea nearly overwhelmed him. The front door of 443 swung open, and light bathed him.

"-waking up..."

"Yeah, smelling salts will do that. They do stink, though..." the EMT was speaking calmly.

"Fullmetal- you with us?" Mustang was asking calmly.

"Shit- where are we?"

"At the crime scene. You fainted."

"Shit." was all he muttered. What else could he say? That's he'd been somewhere else- become someone else- while he was unconscious? He got to his feet slowly, looking back at the crime scene only to see a chalk outline and the startling absence of a body.

A spike of anxiety hit him. "Where is she?"

Over here!

His head snapped to the side- there was a gurney with a black body bag on it that they were wheeling towards the mouth of the alley.

Please! I don't want to be alone!

"Shit. I have to go with her." Ed said seriously. "Where are they taking her?"

"To the morgue. They still have to do the autopsy." Mustang said simply.

"I'm riding with her."

"You are? Kid- you just passed out, that's not a good idea."

"She doesn't want to be alone anymore!" Ed said, sounding more desperate. "Mustang- will you come with me?"

"You want me to ride in the back with you?" Roy asked quietly.

Ed said nothing, though he pursed his lips and nodded. And honestly- it was the first time Ed had actually asked for help during this whole ordeal rather than running off on his own, so he nodded.

"Okay. I'll ride with you."

Being loaded into the back of the ambulance with a dead body wasn't pleasant. Especially not with the smell of blood still coloring the air prominently.

The only sound was the ambulance, which was eerily quiet as it took them closer and closer to the morgue. There was no emergency, no life to save. No need for sirens.

"You seem anxious." Mustang said simply. Because Ed was. Ed seemed almost clingy since they'd gotten to the crime scene- and that was the exact opposite of Ed normally.

"She was afraid and she died alone. She didn't want to die alone. I can feel her anxiety. The killer slit her throat and fled. She bled out alone. I can feel the adrenaline- the fear... She just doesn't want to be alone anymore." Ed said simply.

Roy nodded. It made sense. Ed wasn't getting spoken to directly as much in this case- he was picking up feelings and thoughts.

"I assume you're going to want to watch the autopsy, then?"

"Yeah. I am." Ed nodded.

"Right. Either Atkins or I will be in the morgue with you...".

He'd expected Ed to watch from a distance.

But Ed pulled on the gauzy blue surgical gown the autopsy technicians threw to him and the blue cap meant to keep his hair back, and he pulled his chair right up beside the steel table.

The autopsy technicians were Sarah- a woman with blonde hair and pale gray eyes and a kind face, and Ivan- a man of about twenty eight with black wire rimmed round glasses who was quiet.

There was a silver-haired girl who wasn't more than twenty and sat calmly, green eyes surveying everything, autopsy report and pen held ready to write down whatever Sarah told her to.

"This your first autopsy, kid?" Sarah asked calmly.

Ivan frowned at him from beneath his surgical mask. "He's not a kid. He's military, or they wouldn't allow him to watch us."

"Are you military?" Sarah asked, looking at him skeptically.

Ed nodded. "I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist.".

Sarah nodded. "Right. Ivan, get a rectal temp." Ivan was already carefully undressing the corpse and inserting the thermometer.

"We get a rectal temperature to determine the time of death." Sarah said simply.

Ed frowned, pursing his lips. "She died at approximately 9:13 am. She was a university student- she had class at nine and she was running late."

Ivan wrote down the rectal temperature on the autopsy report, and Sarah frowned, looking over at him. "Did you know her?".

Ed shook her head.

Sarah frowned. "Were you there when she died?"

Again, Ed shook his head.

"Police psychic?" Ivan asked.

Ed shrugged. "I dunno. I can talk to dead people and I know things."

Sarah's eyes widened. "You're the kid who realized those two were related in here, weren't you? Then one who figured out that those two were engaged yesterday. They weren't married yet, we had to call their friends and family to confirm...".

Ed paused, looking over to the cold lockers. "You put their bodies next to each other in the cold drawers. The man and his dead fiancé.".

Sarah nodded, looking surprised for a moment, before her brow furrowed. "Alright. Well, we're going to keep going here. There's going to be lots of incisions and the removal or organs, but first, we're going to get a post-mortem blood draw.".

Sarah waddled away from the autopsy table and came back a moment later with a needle and tube, drawing some blood. Ed could clearly see her stomach protruding slightly. She was pregnant.

He could've sworn when he looked over at the corpse, she was tearing up.

Sarah walked him through the entirety of the procedure in a calm, cheerful manner. From the incisions and peeling back of the skin, removal and weighing of organs, all of it was done clinically and respectfully.

When it came time to stitch the corpse back up and make it more slightly, Ivan told Sarah to sit on a stool and began doing it himself. Sarah thanked him.

"I don't mind the work, but my back starts to hurt sometimes." she admitted.

"When are you due?" Ed asked.

Sarah smiled. "I still have two more months.".

"How can you tell if a person who died is pregnant or not?". he didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably sad.

Sarah had peeled off her bloody gloves and tossed them in the waste bin, and she motioned the gray-haired girl to come over with the autopsy report she'd been dutifully filling in.

"So this is the HcG column. It's a hormone that increases with pregnancy. In normal women, the amount is below 5 MIU/mL. It elevates as the pregnancy gets further along. Savannah here will get the blood test results and write it all down." Sarah smiled at the silver-haired girl, grabbing a fresh pair of gloves and sighing.

"Ivan, I'd like to suture the skull. I want to take special care in case they want to do an open casket." she said simply.

Ivan was suturing the woman's abdomen closed, and he nodded. "Be my guest." he said, calmly continuing his work.

"How'd you end up working here?" Ed asked the silver-haired girl calmly. He was pretty sure her name was Savanah, and she looked to be about nineteen.

Savanah shrugged. "I wanted to be a medical student. But then I realized people are exhausting- too stressful. I still like anatomy though. I'm shadowing right now- I intend to train to become an autopsy technician this summer.".

"Neat. So you see all the autopsy results?"

Savannah shook her head. "Not all of them. It depends who's on staff. There's Lindsay- she does the over night reports. I've only seen a few of them. What do you want to know?"

"I'm not sure..." Ed looked back at the naked body on the metal table, looking uncertain. "But can you come find me when the blood-test results come back for her? I have a feeling...".

Savannah nodded. "Yeah, no problem. You'll be around here?"

"Yeah, I will." Ed said absently.

He could feel the gravitational pull of the deceased on the table, her anxiety seemed to roll off her in waves.

Don't leave me alone. Always alone.

"She doesn't want to be alone. I'll stay for as long as I can."

"Right." Savannah said, though she looked uncertain.

"You think I'm a nutjob, don't you? Talking to dead people." Ed said quietly.

"We don't think you're crazy. We talk to dead people too you know." Sarah spoke up from where she was meticulously suturing the scalp back together on the corpse from where the brain was removed. "I'm skeptical that they talk back to you. But I kind of hope you're telling the truth. We'd like to get less murder victims around here. And weird stuff happens down here sometimes."

Ed blinked. "You hear screaming and stuff?"

Ivan shook his head. "Lights flicker. Slamming doors. Stuff falls off shelves sometimes.".

"Some people say it's scary, but it's actually pretty peaceful here at night." Savannah admitted. "For me anyways. But yeah, things have been more tense around here with all the murder victims. We're scientists, autopsy technicians- always weighing and measuring. But there is some paranormal stuff that happens. We deal with death everyday. It'd be hypocritical not to acknowledge it.".

Sarah frowned, finishing a particularly irksome stitch. She was nearly done suturing the scalp. "Savannah- can I get more thread? The black one. I want this to blend in with her hair well in case her family wants a viewing.".

Savannah nodded, moving to the cupboard and fetching another spool of suturing thread.

"So- you know that we put the two engaged corpses in lockers next to one another. But do you know where we put the other two?" Sarah asked, looking at him curiously.

Ed shrugged, walking over to the cold locker. He ran his hands over the handles of each locker, waiting.

There was an apathetic feeling that washed over him, and he wordlessly opened it to come face to face with one of the autopsied woman who'd been on the tables yesterday. The one off to the side, who had looked like Winry...

He kept moving, pausing at the next handle but not feeling anything, so he kept walking, moving another locker down, and another...

There weren't any familiar bodies resting in this row.

Up here.

He moved to the top row of the locker, though he had to stretch, and opened the last locker on the top right, sliding it out to reveal the last remaining victim from the other day.

"Found them." he said simply, turning around.

Sarah was looking at him with wide-eyes. Ivan blinked a few times, clearing his throat.

"How did you know which lockers they were in? We put them in early this morning, you had no way of knowing...". Savannah said, looking shocked.

Ed shrugged. "I've been trying to talk to them for days. They're upset and frustrated, but you get a certain feeling...I dunno.".

He sniffed. His nose had started to bleed, and he frowned as it started to drip onto the tile floor.

"Savannah, get him some gauze." Sarah ordered.

Savannah hurried over to the cabinets, coming back with a handful of sterile gauze that he gratefully took. "Thanks."

"Done making him do party tricks yet?" Mustang walked over, looking from the dead bodies Ed had correctly identified without having to even open the lockers in an unamused fashion.

"I was skeptical, I admit. But holy shit." Sarah said, looking surprised. "Especially when I heard Atkins was running the case. Atkins seems like the last guy who'd trust a psychic.".

"I'm not a psychic." Ed said seriously.

"Then what are you?" Ivan asked seriously, looking interested.

Ed sighed. "I don't know. I can see and talk to dead people. Isn't that called a medium or something?"

Mustang smirked. "You're not a small alchemist now. You're a medium one.".

Ed snarled. "Quit it with the short jokes already!"

The door to the morgue swung open, Atkins walking into the room with some handfuls of paperwork.

"Fullmetal- I want to bounce some theories off you.". He moved to an unoccupied steel autopsy table, Ed and Mustang heading over as well.

They stayed in their respective groupings- Atkins, Mustang and Ed working on one table and the autopsy technicians at the other, until lunch time.

Atkins sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Okay. We have a more accurate place of death for the woman that went into the canal thanks to the shoe Fullmetal found last night. She was found approximately a mile downstream from where she went in. So we have a pretty accurate map of the deaths- but they're all within a thirteen block radius. However, the fact our killer killed a man in addition to these women makes the motive sketchy at best...".

"What are the profiles of the victims?" Ed asked simply.

Atkins sighed. "What aren't they? We have a teenage sex worker, another sex worker in her twenties, two working professionals, a medical student, a newspaper editor, and the editor's male fiancé. So it's all over the place.".

"The woman and her fiancee are special. The killer broke his women-only rule for them. Why, I don't know, but maybe they felt like they as a couple had done something in particular to piss off the killer..." Ed frowned. "What gets me is these crimes aren't sexually motivated."

"The women had stab wounds tot he abdomen, though. That would suggest a sexual motivation. Or a hatred of women at the very least." Ivan spoke up from where he was working across the room.

Ed sighed. "Yeah, but all your autopsy reports show no genital trauma, no signs of forcible rape or sodomy, and no DNA.".

"Right again." Atkins said, heaving a sigh.

Ivan was moving to cover the newest victim on the table with a sheet, and even though Ed wasn't facing them, he tensed slightly.

"She doesn't want you to cover her eyes." he said seriously.

"What?" Ivan was almost finished covering the corpse with the sheet.

"She doesn't want her eyes covered." Ed said seriously. He wasn't even facing Ivan.

Ivan nodded, looking impressed, and tucked the sheet just below the woman's chin, like he was tucking her into bed.

"Right. Well she's going to have to go into the lockers after lunch..."

"Fullmetal. You can't just camp out in the morgue all day. You have to eat." Mustang said seriously.

Ed sighed. "I need blood test results.".

"Those will take a few hours, at least. You should eat." Sarah spoke up, looking at him with an almost motherly expression.

Ed sighed. "Fine. But I want to come back here when we're done." Ed sighed. "And I really don't want hotel food.".

"I know a cafe if you want. I get an hour for lunch, since we're not super busy today." Savannah had materialized behind him.

"Anything is better than hotel food. Lead the way." Ed said happily.

Savannah laughed. "I say the same thing about hospital food.".

There was a nice cafe a block or two away. Ed actually got to talk to Savannah for a little while- he learned she had an older sister who went to West City's university to be a doctor and one in school to be a nurse, and that Savannah aspired to become a medical examiner someday.

"I thought about being a cop, but I can't deal with criminals all the time. Why'd you become a state alchemist, anyways?" Savannah asked.

Ed shrugged. "Was the best thing to do. Got in an accident as a kid, had some limbs ripped off- all the top bioalchemy research is in the State Alchemist's library.".

Savannah looked at his arm with interest. "Sorry. I shouldn't stare. I've seen automail on a few patients in autopsy, I always thought it was cool.".

Ed shrugged, looking around to make sure nobody in the cafe was paying him much attention before pulling off his glove to reveal his metal hand.

Savannah looked at it incredulously. "Can I touch it?"

"Go ahead. It's just a hand.".

"Can you feel hot and cold with it?" Savannah asked, running her fingers over his palm.

Ed shook his head. "No. Can't feel touch either. It's got kick ass grip strength though, and it's overclocked- if I squeezed your hand as hard as I possibly could, It would break your bones.".

Savannah looked fascinated. "That's so cool."

Ed blushed slightly. "I guess. The best part about it in in fights, if I hit someone with my metal hand, I'm almost guaranteed to break their jaw.".

"I bet you could shatter a skull with it. Or at least fracture one." Savannah was looking excited. "You should totally let Sarah and Ivan see your hand. They think automail is cool too- we saw a guy in autopsy a few weeks back and thought he got hit by a car. Turns out he got in a barfight with an automail user in the middle of the street. But he was such a mess, we thought he got hit by a car. Skull fracture, ruptured spleen, the whole nine yards. But the cops got the guy and he went to jail for manslaughter.".

"That's fucking wild." Ed said, looking impressed. "That's why I try to only hit really nasty people with my automail. I mean, if it's an armed and dangerous person, I hit them with metal, but I accidentally stepped on my friend's dog once with my metal foot and felt really bad about that.".

Atkins and Mustang simply watched the conversation between the two teenagers with mild amusement.

Mustang couldn't help but feel slightly relieved- finally, Ed was talking to someone living again. The kid had been doing nothing but trying to communicate with the dead for the past few days, and it'd taken a toll on him.

Any theories on what's going on here? I'm always interested to see what you guys think!

Chapter 7: Day 4

The afternoon and evening was uneventful, and they ended in back in the hotel. He slept for three hours. After that, the drumming of his heart was too fast, too much, and he felt like he was vibrating.

He growled, standing up and getting a glass of water in the bathroom, splashing water on his face.

Mustang was still asleep.

Atkins cast a glance at him from where he was sitting on his cot, a small lamp illuminating the documents he was looking over. Honestly, did this guy ever sleep?

Atkins frowned, brow creasing, as Ed paced. "You alright?"

"I don't know.".

"You seem agitated. Anxious."

"That's because I am." Ed said simply.

"Do you... have any idea why?" Atkins asked hesitantly.

Fear. Cold, unadulterated fear and anxiety. It was surrounding that area, drenching the alley where the newest victim had been found- and it appeared to have crawled into his heart and made a home there as well.

I don't want to be dead... he caught the faintest whisper beside him, and chills wracked his body.

"The newest victim is struggling to adjust with being dead, I think. She... she wasn't expecting it, wasn't expecting to be killed. whoever it was that murdered her- she knew them, she trusted them, and it's just... by the time she realized what was happening, there was nothing she could do. All I can feel is her fear... fuck, I can't make it stop." his voice cracked. He didn't like how close to tears he was sounding, or how he felt. He hated feeling this way, so out of control, and he went back to wearing a hole in the carpet pacing, unable to do much else.

I shouldn't have done it. I deserve this. I don't want to die!

A muffled sob escaped him, and he tugged his hand through his hair nervously.

Atkins watched him, silver eyes taking in every detail.

"I don't have any sleeping pills. All the drug stores are closed, it's midnight. But I can get you a shot of bourbon from the hotel bar. It might help your nerves." Atkins said finally.

Ed stopped pacing, clenching and unclenching his hands, still fraught with nerves. "Will that... will it help?".

Atkins shrugged. "Couldn't hurt. Alcohol can take the edge off of things. It's a depressant and a sedative as well, might help you get some more rest.".

"Isn't that... illegal?" Ed asked, puzzled. Atkins was straight-laced and by the book in everything he did, analytical and cold sometimes. Why would he break the law to help him?

Atkins shrugged. "Drinking age is fifteen. You're close enough, not even a year until you're fifteen, right? And it's not like I'm getting you wasted- it's to calm you down. Because frankly, you're all over the place.".

"I don't want to deal with this! I don't want to be like this, I don't understand..." Ed snapped, tears springing to his eyes. He raked his fingers through his hair, frustrated at his own lack of control over his feelings and emotions.

"Easy. Take it easy." Atkins clapped a hand on his shoulder as he stood. "I know you don't. I appreciate you helping us on this case, Edward. I really do. because I've seen how hard this can be on you. Try to relax. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Atkins left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Mustang was still out cold, it was still the middle of the night, and now he was alone...

He ended up curled up on his bed, clutching his pillow as a few stray tears escaped.

An unwanted flutter in his stomach made him nauseas, and he clamped his jaw shut to muffle the whimper that escaped him as another wave of anxiety crashed over him.

Alone. I can't do this on my own. Stupid, stupid. I should have never done that, how will I go on now?

He buried his face in the pillow to muffle his cries.

It seemed like a small eternity before Atkins was back, a sliver of light from the hallway, a small glass of amber liquid in hand.

"They didn't have bourbon. I got brandy instead. Best you drink it all in one go..." he advised, taking in Ed's tear-steaked face with a look of concern.

Ed had grabbed the glass and downed it within thirty seconds. it burned, his eyes watered more, and he coughed. It tasted like flowers and had a citrusy aftertaste, and he hiccupped, making a face.

"Tastes like furniture polish." he muttered. But even ask he spoke, he could feel the warmth seeping into his belly and cheeks, the constant crashing of waves of anxiety ebbing down to a manageable stream...

Atkins chuckled. "Yeah, sounds about right." the man plucked the empty shotglass from his hand, setting it on the small desk. "How are you doing, kid?".

Ed shrugged. "Better." there was a steady buzzing in his head, but it was pleasant, not anxious. His lips felt warm, his tongue mushy. But the whispers were gone now, the feelings around him muffled, and it was nice...

"Think you can lay down and try to get some sleep now?"

Ed nodded sluggishly, flopping back onto his bed. When he slept this time, there were no dreams. He relished the blackness.

He was no stranger to waking up uncomfortable in the hotel, but once again waking up to the realization he was about to puke was still unpleasant.

At least he remembered where the bathroom was this time, darting in expertly and letting out a dry retch that tore at his chest.

Mustang had been at the bathroom sink washing his face, but he turned, forgetting getting ready for the morning at Ed started to puke loudly.

"Shit- again?"

Ed wanted to snap at him with something witty. But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was another mouthful of bile. He still had a headache, but he felt less like death- it was unsettling be become familiar with puking, but this was his second time in a handful of days. Instead of fighting he just let it happen. A few heaves later he was sighing, resting his head on the cool porcelain and catching his breath.

Mustang was crouched next to him, looking worried and pressing a hand to his clammy forehead. "What did you get into this time? and don't say it was food poisoning- we didn't even eat at the hotel this time.".

Atkins was in the doorway, looking concerned. "Might be my fault, actually. I gave him a drink last night.".

"A drink of what?" Mustang asked, confused.

"Brandy.".

"I'm fine." Ed rasped out hoarsely.

Mustang looked from Ed to Atkins, giving Atkins a look that said he was pissed. "Why the hell did you buy him alcohol?"

"He was freaking out. When he's in a case too deep the emotions hit him. He's been bombarded with feelings and emotions these past few days with no reason why and he was panicking. He couldn't sleep.". Atkins said simply.

Mustang sighed. "Why didn't you wake me up instead of giving him alcohol?"

"Because you weren't going to be able to fix it. When the kid gets into paranormal stuff nobody can help him, he needed to calm down."

"And giving him alcohol was a solution?" Mustang snapped.

"He was so anxious he couldn't stop pacing. When I got back to the room he was crying." Atkins said seriously.

Mustang looked guilty for a moment, and Ed coughed, trying to clear the taste of bile from his mouth.

"He was right. I needed it. I got back to sleep after I drank it. Haven't slept that good since we got here " he staggered to his feet, rinsing his mouth out at the sink and taking two aspirin.

Mustang's gaze followed him, but he stood. "So he's hungover." he asked, giving Atkins a look as they stepped out of the bathroom.

"I guess so. I wouldn't have given it to him if I knew it'd make him sick, but he was in a state-".

Ed chose to tune them out, washing his face and getting dressed, heading out of the hotel room. "I have to get back to the morgue.".

This time it was Atkins who looked hesitant, looking to Mustang.

Mustang sighed. "Fine. But we leave when I say so."

---

"You're sure you want to go back to the morgue?" Mustang wasn't looking excited at the prospect of going back to the morgue for the rest of the day.

"Yes I'm sure. I can't just leave her there alone!"

"Okay. Maybe you need to take a step back, though. Spending your every waking moment in the morgue isn't healthy."

"Oh, so I should just go take a nap and let the serial killer keep doing his thing? I need the results of the blood test." Ed said seriously.

"Fullmetal. We aren't arguing about this. I'm merely making an observation. We can go back to the morgue today, but I think tomorrow we can look at crime scenes or discuss theories in the hotel. Staying the morgue in the basement isn't healthy."

Ed sighed. "Whatever. I need alone time. I don't want people looking over my shoulder all the time.".

Roy blinked. "You don't get alone time. Not after what happened at the canal-"

Atkins sighed. "How about a compromise? He can chill inside the morgue alone and one of us will sit in the hallway outside the morgue. That way he can figure out what he needs to without being smothered. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Ed said, though he sounded less than enthusiastic.

When they got to the morgue, Atkins took up residence in the hallway. As soon as Ed walking into the room, he coudl hear the muffled crying, and the hair on his arm stood up straight.

You left me alone!

"I'm sorry. They said I needed a break." Ed spoke aloud as he crossed the room easily, walking over to the lockers and pulling out a drawer in the bottom center, coming face-to-face with the corpse of the young woman they'd autopsied the day before.

Savannah was filling out paperwork at he small desk nearby, and she cocked her head at him curiously.

"She doesn't like to be left alone. She died alone. And she was alone before that. I have no idea why, but she has a fixation with being alone..." Ed tried to explain.

Savannah nodded, green eyes uncertain. "Well- I have to go look at the reports. And I have other work to do."

Ed nodded. "I get it. I really do. Can you just make sure to bring me the autopsy report when her blood test results come back?".

Savannah nodded. "Yeah. Sure. The blood test might be back by now, actually..."

She came back ten minutes later, autopsy report in hand. "So all the serum electrolytes were normal, optimal kidney functioning in the BUN and creatinine, nothing really sticks out..."

Ed blinked, his eyes falling on one column in particular. "Sarah said earlier today that a normal HcG level is less than 5. Hers is 750. Was she pregnant?"

Savannah frowned, doing a double take. "There... there wasn't any signs of pregnancy in the uterus. She might've had a miscarriage. Or maybe a tumor that caused high HcG levels."

"Right. Okay. Do you have the autopsy reports for all the other female victims?"

Savannah paused. "No. but I can get you copies of them- it's going to take me an hour or two, though."

Ed nodded. "that's fine. Thank you for all your help... it means a lot..."

Come lay down and be dead with us!

I don't want to be alone!

"I'm right here. And I'm still listening.". he promised.

Time shuffled by abnormally slowly. Or was it abnormally quickly?

But the next thing he knew, Mustang was tapping his shoulder and handing him a sandwich from the hospital cafeteria. "It's almost five. Atkins is questioning the friends and family of the murdered couple for any potential leads- any friends, enemies they had. We should get going.".

Ed frowned. "Not yet. Just a little longer- please?".

Mustang paused at the use of the word please. He sighed, leaning against the autopsy table. "Fine. But only if you eat your sandwich. Have they said anything to you, lately?".

Ed shook his head, taking a bite of whatever the hell kind of sandwich it was. It looked like some kind of Italian sub, Mustang had observed him enough to know he wasn't picky.

"No. Just feelings." he resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose. This sandwich tasted like metal. Savannah hadn't been kidding when she'd been joking about the hospital food earlier. "And I still want to stop by the canal on the way home. I have to see if the lady is waiting for me.".

Mustang sighed. "Fine. But I don't think that someone who tried to drown you is a reliable source of evidence."

Ed was halfway through his sandwich, now, and he sighed. Suddenly, he was over it. Over Mustang and all his concern and bullshit- they had a murder case to solve, dammit!

"I don't really give a damn what you think, Mustang." he said, voice smooth and even.

"Excuse me?" it'd come out of left field, and Mustang raised an eyebrow at him.

"You heard me. I said I don't care what you think. Atkins thinks I'm making progress. I've found links no one else has on this case. You can't say I'm not doing my job.".

Mustang blinked. "There's doing your job, and there's drowning in a canal in the middle of the night and leaving your little brother all alone. Those are two very different things, Fullmetal." he was struggling to keep his tone even, because Ed was snapping at him for no reason, now. "And I'm seriously disturbed that you can't tell the difference between them.".

Ed's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before he scoffed. "Seriously? You think I'd die on purpose and just leave Al!? do you have any idea what the hell you're accusing me of, you Bastard!" Ed had crushed the remains of his sandwich in his hand, glaring.

"I'm not saying you'd do it willingly- I'm saying, the fact is, you nearly drowned the other night."

"Well at least I got fucking results! At least I'm not a half-wit fucking Colonel who has to have my secretary point a gun at my back to make me get anything done! At least I'm not depending on a fourteen year old to solve my cases for me because I'm too fucking useless to figure any of it out myself!" Ed snarled.

The fluorescent lights of the morgue flickered and died, leaving them both in darkness.

Mustang blinked, looking from Ed, who was seething, to the dark lights in the room. He was honestly unsettled at the kid's sudden change in mood, and the lights going out made him realize- it wasn't just Ed at work here.

"You've been here too long. You need to get out of here. You're lashing out because you don't understand what's going on, and the emotions are getting the better of you.". Mustang said seriously.

Ed blinked, golden golden eyes flashing in the darkness as he let out a humorless chuckle. "You have no idea what the fuck you're taking about.".

Mustang felt the uneasiness- the wrongness- of everything rolling off him in waves.

And as suddenly as everything had shifted, the lights of the morgue flickered back on, bathing the room in light.

Mustang paused. "Fullmetal?"

Ed blinked. "Yeah?"

"You alright?" he stepped closer- he'd expected the kid's nose to be bleeding, or something paranormal to have occurred...

"I'm fine. I'm just sick of everything." Ed admitted, looking away from him.

Mustang had to pause for a moment and wonder what the actual hell had just happened. They'd been having a productive conversation, Ed had started a fight with him out of nowhere and been shouting, the lights were off, and now the kid was suddenly back to normal again?

He was also nursing hurt feelings- because did Ed really believe that? Did he really think Mustang was out to get him, to make his life hell, was incompetent, was useless? Or was he just lashing out because of all the spirits in the room, all the things he couldn't understand...

Ed sighed. "It's too loud here. I want to go back to the canal. Everything was quiet, there...".

The door to the morgue swung open, and Savannah came in, holding a sheaf of papers. "Hey Ed. I got copies of the reports you wanted..."

"Thanks so much." Ed was already eagerly looking through the papers, and Mustang frowned. "You can do that back at the hotel. You've been here all day".

Ed frowned, looking like he wanted to argue but pausing, stuffing the papers into a folder and giving Mustang a wary look. "Fine. But we're stopping by the canal on the way."

Mustang nodded wordlessly.

They stood in front of the canal for what must've been twenty minutes in the biting spring wind, and Ed seemed to grow more despondent each minute they were there.

He stared into the depths of the crystal clear water tearfully, and the wind whipped his red coat around him as he shook his head.

"I don't understand why you won't come back to me. You promised you'd tell me everything..." he sank to his knees, grabbing a handful of water from the canal and letting it slip through his fingers. "Why the hell did you abandon me?".

He stood, heaving a sigh and scrubbing his sleeve over his face and heading wordlessly back to the hotel. Mustang chose not to comment. The kid's emotions were all over the place tonight, and he didn't want to push him any further then he had to.

Ed was mostly silent, even after they'd gotten back to the hotel room.

Atkins was eagerly chattering about the family and friends of the two engaged victims that he was profiling, but Ed hardly seemed to hear him.

Even Atkins seemed to notice how spaced out he was, and he frowned, looking at Ed critically.

"You alright, Elric? Did something happen? Your nose isn't bleeding..." he cast a glance over at Mustang, who shrugged.

"What're you thinking about, Edward?" Atkins tried again.

Ed sighed. "The lady at the canal won't talk to me anymore. I don't understand why." he kicked off his boots and heaved a sigh, falling back onto his bed and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have a headache." he muttered quietly.

"Get some rest. Maybe she'll talk to you in the morning." Atkins suggested.

Ed nodded restlessly, crawling beneath the sheets and curling up. He drifted off to the sounds of static, feeling uneasy in the sheets.

Chapter 8: Day 5

He woke up confused with the taste of metal in his mouth.

He sat up, blinking and trying to figure out why the hell his head was still pounding. He felt like he'd slept for a year- maybe two. Or lived a lifetime or two while he'd been asleep.

"Morning, Fullmetal." Atkins looked over at him from where he had new interviews and paperwork spread out on his cot.

There wasn't much sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains and the window, and it had to have been early- Mustang appeared to still be asleep.

Atkins said something else- he might have been asking about how he'd slept- but he couldn't hear him, because at that moment, something in his stomach squirmed and he forgot how to breathe.

Oh fuck oh shit no I don't want this I can't do this.

He retched, feeling stomach acid licking at the base of his throat and staggering out of bed into the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet again.

A moment later he was puking his guts out, again. He couldn't focus on anything except for the buzzing in his own ears- with every spasm and churn of his stomach, he was afraid he'd feel that terrible movement in his stomach again that set off some primal terror in him...

A rough hand pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail, pulling his head up in the process. They were awkward, uncoordinated hands- there was a smell of unfamiliar aftershave, someone was saying something to him- it was Atkins who was behind him, and he was fumbling and awkward, but at least he was trying to help.

He pitched forward, gagging dryly before his stomach clenched and he vomited so forcefully it came out his nose.

There was static in his head again, and when he was aware of what was going on around him again, he could hear two familiar voices bouncing off the tile of the small bathroom they were in...

"...not normal..."

"...no fever..."

"...I agree..."

He lost track of the conversation, because at that exact moment his stomach decided to wring itself out again, and he was pitching over the bowl with a white-knuckle grip and choking up bile.

He was done. He had to be. His abs were screaming, and he sighed, lowering himself down and letting his cheek rest against the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

He was a sweaty, disgusting mess, but with the worst of the vomiting over, he was becoming acutely aware of the acidic tang of bile and his shredded throat.

"Fullmetal. Hey- sit up for me." Mustang was talking to him, now, and Ed grunted, pulling himself upright.

He must've really looked like shit, because Mustang hesitated for a moment. "You alright? What's going on?" there was a palm being pressed to his forehead, and he was too tired to bat it away.

"I threw up." he said. Because honestly, wasn't it obvious?

"I noticed. What hurts?" Mustang asked seriously.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Stomach, throat- probably from throwing up." He cleared his throat, trying to ignore how raw his throat felt.

"You don't have a fever. But this is the third time you've thrown up in this week and you're acting off..."

There was something moving in this stomach. Something was moving inside him.

His whole body went rigid, instinctively grabbing his stomach and hunching in on himself as anxiety washed over him again.

I can't do this I don't want this what am I going to do?

"Hey! Ed. What's going on. You went pale as a sheet." Atkins was behind them, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

"I-it's nothing." he said shakily.

"It's not nothing. You look like you're in pain." Mustang said seriously.

"It was just a cramp, I think.". He got to his feet, one hand still resting protectively on his stomach. Really, he just wanted to lay down...

"Right. Well, the morgue is part of a hospital, and you're getting checked out. It's not a suggestion, either." Mustang said simply.

Ed heaved a sigh. "Whatever." Because honestly, he was a little tired of throwing up every other morning since they'd been here too.

Atkins walked them to the waiting room for the walk-in clinic before leaving, telling them he had to swing by his office and get some things but would meet them back within two hours.

The waiting room was somewhat busy. There was a woman who was quite obviously pregnant next to the only two open seats, so they sat next to her. An older man on crutches with a broken leg, and a mother holding a toddler with red-cheeks who was clutching her shirt, obviously suffering from some sort of fever.

They were an odd couple out- Ed in his characteristic red coat and with his hair in a sloppy ponytail and Mustang in his military uniform.

The nurse called back the woman with the toddler first, and they were all left to stare at the crappy wallpaper of the waiting room.

He was still slightly nauseas, and he closed his eyes and tried to focus on taking deep breaths when he heard the woman sitting in the chair next to them gasp, placing a hand to her stomach.

Ed opened his eyes, slightly concerned. "Are you alright? Do you want me to call the doctor?"

The woman blushed, looking surprised. "Oh- no- it's just the baby kicking. Do you want to feel?" she offered.

Ed shrugged, hesitantly placing his hand on her shirt.

He felt the fluttering, thumping against his hand.

And then suddenly, everything made sense.

Something inside me is moving...

"Feel it?"

Ed nodded- he was even more nauseas and slightly numb, now.

A moment later the nurse had called back the pregnant woman, leaving him with a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Fullmetal."

He was busy enough focusing on controlling his breathing that he didn't even notice the first time Mustang called him.

"Ed- look at me. Are you alright? You look like you're about to faint.".

He must've gone pale. "I'm good."

Mustang looked doubtful, but thankfully he kept quiet.

A few minutes later the nurse was calling them back to the exam room, taking his temperature and vitals.

She had coppery red hair pulled back into a ponytail and coffee brown eyes.

"What seems to be the problem today?"

"I threw up." Ed said simply. He was trying to keep it together, but god, his thoughts were racing.

What the hell are they trying to tell me?

"He's been throwing up every morning for the past few days. And he's anemic already- the doctors said that vomiting and stomach issues could be a sign of something worse causing that anemia.".

The nurse frowned. "It certainly could be. The doctor will see you in just a moment.".

She left them alone.

"I need to know what's going on, Fullmetal." Mustang said seriously.

Ed sighed. "I thought it was food poisoning. I don't know, okay?" he swallowed thickly.

"I get it. But I need to know if you've been tired lately, or anything else has been hurting."

Ed sighed. "No. I'm just... there's a lot going on with the case, I dunno..."

They were interrupted by the doctor entering the room.

He was a man of about 40, with a lined face like Falman and wavy black hair. He conducted a brief physical examination before declaring they'd start him on IV fluids, give him an anti-nausea injection, and run some blood tests to make sure he was okay, but that he suspected it was a virus.

"Can you check his iron levels as well? He's usually anemic as it is, I don't want to miss anything. He had his last iron injection last week, he shouldn't be due for another week still..." Mustang asked the doctor. Hell, the man actually looked concerned.

The doctor reassured Mustang everything would be looked into before he was ducking out.

A new nurse came in- with bouncing blonde curls and red lipstick.

And Mustang must've actually been worried, because he didn't even try to flirt with her.

The nurse was cheery and quick-witted, and she managed to get the vein in his hand on the first try, drawing a tube of blood before she was hooking a bag of saline to the line.

Ed made a point to look away until she was done with needles- but even then, his fear of needles seemed short-sighted and mundane when he compared it to the feeling of something squirming inside him...

He cast a glance over at Mustang, who was watching everything carefully. Normally he hated doctors and was glad to have Mustang there, because even if the man was annoying, Ed knew he could trust him.

But now- with his thoughts running all over the place, he couldn't ask any of the questions he needed to.

"Alright. So I'll go ahead and give you your anti-nausea injection in a minute, but I have to go over our sexual health questionnaire before I do. It's a mandatory thing in the clinic."

Ah. There was his excuse. He was already feeling his cheeks go red. He turned to look at Mustang. "Can you leave? I don't want to talk about this in front of you.".

Mustang looked slightly surprised at the request- afterall, Ed hated doctors and was normally anxious to be left alone with them- but he nodded. "I'll be in the waiting room. Can I... after you're done discussing everything, do you want me to come back?".

Ed nodded hesitantly.

"I'll go and get your Dad when we're done here." the nurse said reassuringly, eyes bright with understanding. Mustang's eyes widened slightly at being called Ed's father, but he said nothing, turning and walking out of the exam room, closing the door behind him.

The nurse sighed, grabbing her clipboard. "Alright. Are you an intravenous drug user?".

"No.".

"Are you sexually active?"

Ed hesitated. He wasn't sexually active, but with the questions he was going to need to ask, it wouldn't make sense and would raise suspicion if he said he wasn't...

He hesitated.

"It's okay. I know these things can be hard to talk about. Do you want me to put down yes?" the nurse asked simply.

Ed nodded, blushing bright red. This was embarrassing. Talking about it all was embarrassing, but especially because he was lying for the sake of his own questions...

"Have you had unprotected sex within the past thirty days?"

"Yes." he answered automatically, voice so steady it surprised him.

The nurse didn't bat an eyelash, checking something off on her clipboard. "And... do you need STD testing today?"

Ed hesitated. "I... does it hurt?".

The nurse shook her head, smiling. "Not at all, sweetie. You just pee in a cup.".

Ed nodded. "Then yes, please." he hated wasting medical professionals time, but this was necessary.

"Have you been the victim of rape or sexual assault?"

"Um... no. It was- it was consensual." he could feel his face heating up at the admission, even if it was a lie, because the only person he'd ever imagined having sex with was Winry...

"Okay." the nurse grabbed a urine cup from the cupboard, handing it to him. "So I'll leave and have you fill this and come back for it once you're done, and then I'll send your Dad back in. Do you have any questions for me?"

Ed paused. He was about to correct her and say Mustang wasn't his father, but he realized now was the time to ask his more important questions- so he figured he might as well come out and say it, her assumption about Mustang be damned.

"So, uh... how long does a girl have to be pregnant for before she can feel the baby kick?".

The nurse blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "Well- it depends on the woman. Most of the time, for a first pregnancy, it's about 25 weeks before the woman can feel the baby kick, but sometimes a baby's kicks can be felt as early as thirteen weeks along..." the nurse was looking at him curiously. "You're asking for your girlfriend, aren't you?".

Ed shrugged. "Something like that."

"Any other questions?"

"How long does morning sickness last?"

The nurse paused again. "So it varies- but for most people, it starts during the ninth week of pregnancy and goes away by the fourteenth week. But it can last a lot longer or not happen at all in some people. Any other questions?"

Ed paused. "Um... just one. Can this discussion just... stay between us?".

The nurse nodded understandingly. "Yes, sweetie- everything you told me here is confidential. Your Dad won't know. And if you or your girlfriend need any other help, come by anytime. Now I'm going to let you fill that cup up and I'll come back for it, and then your Dad can come back again...".

She left.

He peed in the cup.

She knocked on the door five minutes later, he gave her the cup of pee, and a sheet of information to fill out. He quickly wrote down their hotel room information, and then he was sitting back on the table.

A minute later, Mustang was ducking back into the exam room. The man's gaze lingered on Ed sitting on the table for a minute. "Doing alright?" he asked simply.

Ed nodded. "I'm good.".

Mustang paused, clearing his throat. "If there's anything you need to talk about- let me know.".

"I'm fine. I just didn't wanna have to answer all those stupid questions in front of you.".

"Ah. I see." Mustang nodded, still looking a bit awkward. "Well- uh..." he cleared his throat. "Fourteen is a time with a lot of... changes. So if you did need to talk to someone- me or Hughes or Havoc have an open door policy.".

"Right."

They sat in the silence for awhile- Ed laid back on the exam table, trying to ignore how the crinkling of the paper on the table beneath him was irritating.

He must've dozed off, because he woke up to a burning prick in his arm and jolted, trying to turn his head to the side, but was stopped by a rough hand holding his head to the side so he couldn't

"What the fuck!?"

"Hold still. It's almost over." Mustang said simply.

"Aaaannnd done!" the nurse said cheerfully, tossing her syringe into the sharps bin.

"Anti-nausea shot is done!"

"I figured you wouldn't want to be awake for it. I know you hate needles." Mustang said simply.

"Right. Well a warning would've been nice." he sat up, rubbing his arm gingerly. The shot had burned.

"So like I was telling your Dad- your blood tests came back normal, iron is good. We think it's just a virus that will pass. You've gotten IV fluids to rehydrate you, and the anti-nausea shot should settle your stomach until it's out of your system." the blonde nurse was speaking cheerily.

"Cool. So we can get out of here?" Ed sat up, shaking his head from side to side to loosen the muscles.

"You sure can. Drink lots of fluids and take it easy, and call if you have any concerns!" the nurse said happily.

They ducked out of the ER in silence, heading back to the waiting room. As they walked past the nurse's station, Ed saw the copper-haired nurse from earlier scowling down at some paperwork.

Maybe Mustang wasn't the only one who hated paperwork.

"It should be pretty obvious that we're not going to the morgue today." Mustang said simply.

Ed sighed. "Please? For only an hour? Then I'll go back to the hotel and sleep. I just... I just need an hour.". Ed said simply.

Mustang sighed. "You promise you won't give me a hard time about leaving and heading back to the hotel after your hour's up?"

Ed nodded. "I promise.".

Mustang sighed. "Alright.".

"Morning, Ed!" Savannah waved at him, having to speak loudly to be heard over the bone saw. There was another autopsy under way, and Ed waved to her. He was slightly relieved- at least this autopsy wasn't a murder victim.

But he frowned- there was less density in the room today, even though Atkins was also present, camped out at their little steel autopsy table.

"They moved one of the bodies." Ed said simply, grabbing his folder of paperwork and grabbing a seat at an unoccupied steel autopsy table.

He knew exactly what he was looking for, and he started to leaf through the paperwork.

The hum of the bone-saw died down to quiet, and Mustang was speaking quietly to Sarah, who paused her autopsy and replied, looking surprised.

But Ed had already found what he was looking for, and he turned, walking over to Sarah with a sheaf of papers in hand.

"You were right, Fullmetal. They released one of the bodies to the family for a burial." Mustang confirmed.

Ed nodded. "That's good to know. But I have questions." Ed held out several papers to Sarah, motioning to the circled results.

"So- they were all pregnant. I think. If you look at the HCG column, they all have values over 5MIU/mL. Meaning they were all pregnant, correct?".

Sarah's lips quirked into a frown. "Theoretically, yes. But... It's complicated. So generally, HCG increases every couple days of pregnancy, increasing in amount the further you are along. The results indicate that all the women were in very early pregnancy, and it doesn't seem plausible that they were ALL in the first month of pregnancy when they were killed..."

Ed paused. "What if they were further along?".

Sarah frowned. "So, I did all of these autopsies- and I didn't see any signs of pregnancy. No thickening of the uterus walls, no embryo. The fact that seven of eight dead women have elevated HCG levels may just be a laboratory error. I'll see if they made a mistake, maybe the reagent is out of date..." Sarah said, looking confused.

"It's not a mistake. The only weird thing is that only one women victim had a normal HCG level." Ed said simply.

Atkins had gotten up and was looking interested. "You're suggesting the killer went after pregnant women?".

Ed bit his lip. "I don't know. I'm not sure. I just... I just know that it's important.".

Sarah was looking troubled. "That doesn't make sense, though. These HCG levels- all of these show that the women would be less than two months pregnant, nobody would know they were pregnant unless they administered a test...".

"Or unless they were the one who impregnated them. Our serial killer may also be a rapist." Atkins said, silver eyes going steely.

"But then why the dead man? He wasn't pregnant." Sarah said simply.

"Maybe he knew who raped and impregnated his fiancée, and they did it to get rid of witnesses." Mustang suggested.

There was banging in the cold lockers, and Ed's head snapped to the side.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

Why did you leave me alone last night, Ed? It's so cold here. I'm alone. Alone. Alone. Always alone, even after...

It wasn't our fault!

"I can't understand if you keep yelling at me!" Ed snapped.

And all at once, the voices were quiet.

And everyone in the damn morgue was staring at him. He must've shouted louder than he thought.

"You doing alright, Ed?" Savannah asked, looking hesitant.

Ed sighed. "No. I'm not. We're missing something, they're only saying a little, and they're all talking at once..." A wave of dizziness hit him, and he stumbled, having to catch himself on the wall to keep from going to his knees.

The voices were lapping at his consciousness, new, buzzing and upset like ocean waves, licking at his toes and then drifting far away, out of reach...

"This could change everything." Atkins was looking excited.

"I'm still not sure this is reliable." Sarah was looking a bit uncertain.

"Either way, Fullmetal is done for the day. Your hour here is up- we're going back to the hotel to get some rest." Mustang said seriously, giving Ed a look and placing an arm over his shoulders.

"Right- while you do that, I'll bring in every male friend associated with the murdered engaged couple and bring up every male associated with the other victims and cross-reference. We're going to get this maniac off the streets..." Atkins was buzzing about, excited.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Mustang had placed a firm hand on his shoulder and was guiding him out of the morgue, back to the hotel.

He was pretty tired, anyways. And frustrated.

He climbed into his bed and cocooned himself in the sheets- for some reason, he was feeling emotional.

"I'm actually cautiously optimistic about everything, you know." Mustang admitted.

"Yeah?" Ed asked, not really paying attention as he stared up at the ceiling.

Mustang nodded. "Yeah. Assuming everything you found is correct- you may have cracked this case. Even with whatever the hell virus you've got right now.".

Ed bit his lip to keep from correcting him.

You're not sick, you're pregnant.

He grabbed a fistful of the sheets, forcing himself to regulate his breathing. I am not pregnant. Just like I am not Patrick Mullaney. I experience your emotions, your thoughts- feel what you felt. But I am not pregnant.

I don't want to be pregnant either.

Ed sat bolt upright. "What the fuck does that even mean!?"

Wrong.

"Dammit!" he was kicking off the bedsheets and pacing the room.

"Fullmetal- Ed, take it easy." Mustang was watching him with concern. "I know you've been through a lot lately. And you're not feeling good. You found something important- this is the best lead we've had in awhile. Just relax.".

"I need to move." Ed said simply. Because he was afraid if he stopped moving, he'd hear them talking again, and feel that squirming of a baby kicking in his stomach...

"You need to rest. You're sick. Getting worked up won't do any good." Mustang was watching him pace, onyx eyes concerned.

"Okay. Yeah, okay, you're right- let me pace for a few minutes, just a few, and then I'll lay down.".

Mustang nodded, still watching him with obvious worry as he silently wore a hole in the floor of the hotel room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mustang tried.

"I don't know what to talk about! I don't know what's right and what's wrong, I have a headache, I'm exhausted..." and I feel like I might cry. his mind filled in the rest.

"Dammit! None of this makes sense!" he stopped pacing. At least now it was quiet in his head. He needed a nap, a distraction, something with alcohol in it...

He flung himself onto his bed, closing his eyes and reciting the periodic table of elements in his head over and over so he wouldn't hear anything he couldn't understand until sleep took him away.

---

He woke up around four in the afternoon to muffled conversation.

He sat up, scrubbing a hand across his face. "What time is it?" he asked, confused.

"It's four in the afternoon. Don't bother to get up, we're running the interviews on all the men associated with the dead couple now. We're in the best shape we've been in since this whole thing started thanks to you." Atkins said, grinning.

"Oh." Ed blinked, still tired. "That's good. Can I... help?".

Atkins shook his head. "Rest up, kid. You've done enough. You might be able to head back to East City soon if this lead pans out..."

"Oh- cool." Ed grinned. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe they would catch this guy.

Atkins was shotgunning a cup of coffee and talking excitedly. "I'll be at the station all night watching interviews. You two get some sleep, we'll rendezvous at the morning in the morgue. I can't believe the kid figured all this stuff out.".

"He's a prodigy. But don't expect Fullmetal to clean up your messes all the time." Mustang said simply.

Ed sighed. "I want french fries." he was craving them so badly.

Atkins and Mustang looked over at him curiously.

Atkins chuckled. "Sure. You got it, I'll have them send some up with room service.". he headed for the door.

Mustang watched him scarf down the plate of fries room service dropped off half an hour later, amused.

"So- I take it you're feeling better, considering you're eating French fries?".

"Yeah. Feel great. We going home soon?" Ed asked, mouth still full of fries.

Roy nodded. "It's beginning to look that way, yes. We'll rendezvous with Atkins in the morning and see if he's gotten anything from the interviews..."

He finished eating, laying back. There was a familiar thump, a fluttering against his ribcage, and he jolted.

The baby's kicking.

He took a deep breath. They had a lead. They were on the right track.

But then why did he feel like they were going in the wrong direction?

Chapter 9: Night 5

I just wanted to take a moment and thank you all for reading. I eagerly devour each and every review, and you guys keep me writing! Thanks again! :)

---

He was thumbing through his research journal when there was a knock at the door of the hotel room.

Mustang got to his feet, shrugging his blue military coat on over his black pants and shirt but not bothering to button it, sliding his one hand into his pocket containing his ignition gloves and answering the door.

A silver-haired teen with green eyes was standing at the door in a knee-length navy blue dress, and she looked a bit surprised and a bit flustered to see him.

"Oh- hello!"

Mustang gave her a charming smile. "Hello there- Savannah, isn't it?"

"Yes Sir. Sorry to bother you... um... I just got off work, and since the case seems to be dying down, I was wondering if Ed wanted to go sightseeing with me?" Savannah asked, peering around him.

Ed sat up at the edge of his bed, smiling. He got to his feet, striding over to take the door from Mustang. "Hey Savannah! How's it going?".

"Good. I... well, Atkins said you two would be heading back to East City as soon as the case was solved, so I wondered if you wanted to go sightseeing with me? It'd be a shame to leave her without at least seeing some of the attractions." Savannah said simply.

"Huh. Sounds good. Are there any bookstores around here?" Ed asked, mind instantly going to the philosopher's stone.

Savannah looked surprised but eager. "Yes! There's three really nice ones, and I can show you my favorite one... if you're not on duty right now?" she hesitated.

Ed sighed, looking over his shoulder at Mustang. "Am I on duty right now?".

Mustang smirked. "As much as I'd like to say yes, you're off the clock right now since you found those leads. Be back by eleven or I'll come looking for you.".

"Cool." Ed threw on his coat, grabbing his pocket watch off the nightstand and grinning at Savannah. "Alright. Now about those bookstores.".

They ended up finding three large bookstores. Savannah was almost as knowledgeable about human anatomy and physiology as Ed was about alchemy, and they ended up just talking for two hours as Ed found some books to charge to his research fund.

They ended up sitting on a bridge over the canal, talking about anything and everything.

"So my sister is a med student and she's always bored of cadavers, but you'd be surprised by how much a deceased body can tell you about how someone lived." Savannah admitted.

Ed nodded. "Yeah. I always thought dental forensics was cool. But I really was into bioalchemy- limb regeneration stuff.".

"Someday they might be able to do that. They can already grow skin cells for grafting burn victims. My sister's done in the the med lab." Savannah said seriously. "So- how'd you realize you could talk to the dead?".

Ed sighed. "It was an accident, to be honest. I made a friend and we got to talking. We were working on a case together. He was a year younger than me. Only it turns out, I was the only one who could see him and he'd been dead for six months. He was helping me solve his murder. I only realized he was dead when I saw his body.".

Savannah gasped. "That's awful. I'm sorry I asked. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.".

Ed shrugged. "It's okay. They aren't... bad memories, they're just... sad now. But I don't want to forget them anyways. He was a good friend. What got you into becoming an autopsy tech, anyways?".

Savannah shrugged. "When I was a kid, my best friend got hit by a car and died. I saw her laying in the street. She died instantly- that's what they say, anyways. And at first, I wanted to be a doctor so I could save people, because I couldn't save her. But I figured out there's a lot more people you can't save than people you can. I just sort of fell into the morgue as a place to find peace. Because I can't stop death- I can't save everyone. But doing the autopsies- bathing the deceased and dressing them, suturing them to make them look as normal as possible so their loved ones can say goodbye- is something I can do for everyone. Death comes for everyone at some point. And I make sure they all get respect and a good send off.".

"That's noble." Ed said seriously.

Savannah gave him a half-smile. "I suppose. But it's not nearly as cool as being a psychic state alchemist solving murders for the military.".

Ed sighed. "The only reason I do this is to try and stop these guys before they kill anyone else. There's not much happiness in this part of the job. Senseless killing, a waste of life.".

Savannah nodded, looking sympathetic. "I get it. But why are you still so sad? You've pretty much solved this case, right?"

Ed shrugged. "Everyone says that, but I just have a bad feeling." he looked down. It was dark, and beneath the pinpoint shining of the stars he could see the clear water of the canal flowing in the dark.

"I saw something once. I saw a house on the road along the canal. Number 443. I still don't know what the significance is, but I haven't been able to find it...".

"443, huh?" Savannah looked interested. "The 400 district is on the wealthy side of town. Lots of old money lives out there. I bet we can find it- come on.".

And so he was trailing behind her. It took nearly twenty minutes of walking, but soon they were standing in front of number 443. The light was on, shining beneath the front door, and three candles burned in the window.

"That's the place." Ed said simply.

Savannah nodded, looking hesitant. "Shouldn't we go knock on the door?".

Ed paused. "I have a really, really bad feeling about that place."

Run. Turn and run.

This is your only chance to keep your career.

You don't have a job. This is your only option.

I'm scared. Will it hurt badly?

"Ed? Hey, Ed, you okay?" Savannah asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Ed shook his head. "We should go.".

"Do you think the killer is there?" Savannah asked.

Ed shook his head. "No. I don't...".

As they were talking, a woman on crutches approached the home, knocking at the door and stepping inside. The candles in the window were extinguished a moment later, but the lights stayed on. The curtains were drawn.

Savannah blinked, looking surprised. "That's sketchy."

You have to do this.

You borrowed enough money

I don't know what I'm doing...

"Maybe she lives there?" Ed asked, though he was really trying to reassure himself.

"Why would she knock to be let into her own house?" Savannah asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Because she forgot her key. Because it's late and her family locked the door.".

Ed checked his watch. It was quarter to eleven.

"What should we do?" Savannah asked nervously.

Ed shrugged. "Wait and watch. If we hear screaming, I'll kick down the door. But this house- people visiting- doesn't fit the killer's patterns of being around alleyways..."

Ten minutes trickled into fifteen- Ed checked his pocket watch. She'd been in there for nearly an hour, now.

The door opened, and the woman on crutches slowly descended the front stairs of the home. She was moving gingerly, and she stood at the curb, looking up and down the street as though she was expecting something.

A few minutes later a black cab pulled up at the curb, and she gratefully got into the back seat, the car heading off into the night.

As they headed back to the hotel, they swapped theories about it all.

"Maybe she's in a secret society? Like the hattrick women's society- they play cards and drink, even if it is unladylike. The candles must be some kind of symbol.".

Ed shrugged. "Maybe she was just visiting friends and took a cab home." the simplest explanation was often the best.

"Yeah, maybe. My family's apartment is right up here. Thanks for hanging out with me, Ed. My family all think's it's pretty cool I'm getting to work with the state alchemist on the serial killer case.".

Ed shrugged. "Thanks for hanging out with me. Most people don't appreciate a good book these days.".

Savannah laughed. "Yeah, well, see you around the morgue.".

"See you.".

He watched Savannah walk up the stairs and enter her apartment complex before he was heading back to the hotel. He let himself into the room- he was a few minutes late.

But to his surprise, Mustang didn't even chew him out, and he pulled off his boots and flopped back on his bed.

"So- Fullmetal- how was the date?" Mustang asked, grinning.

Ed rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a date. We went to the bookstore.".

"Ah, right. She's taller than you- can't date anyone taller than you, now can we? Of course, that rules out most of the population..." Mustang said with a smirk.

Ed sat up and hurled a book at his head. Mustang caught it and blinked, looking at the title in surprise. "Don't throw rare books at me, Fullmetal." He scolded, setting the volume carefully on the nightstand.

"Don't call me short, your wet match." Ed snapped back. And for a moment, it was like everything was back to normal.

Ed laid back on his bed and turned out the light, closing his eyes.

Wrong.

He slept restlessly that night.

---

Atkins came stumbling into the room at seven am the next morning, looking less enthused and saying that interviews weren't panning out as well as they'd hoped.

Ed couldn't fall back asleep, so he decided to get some coffee, and Mustang hopped in the shower.

Mustang was dressed in his blue military uniform slacks and black undershirt, toweling off his hair, when he stepped out of the bathroom bath into the hotel room to find Atkins sitting on the edge of Mustang's bed, looking haggard and upset, uncomfortable, even, staring at the phone on the nightstand.

"Atkins? What's going on?".

Atkins jolted, clearing his throat. "Well- we have two problems. The first-" his eyes darted around the room nervously, before he settled on Mustang. "Edward is still out?".

"Yeah, he went for coffee." Mustang confirmed.

Atkins heaved a sigh. "The hospital called. They must've assumed I was Ed- his STD tests all came back negative.".

Mustang dropped the towel he was holding. "His what?"

"His STD tests. They're negative. Which is good, but the fact a fourteen year old got tested for STDs... it's none of my business, frankly, but you're his guardian, and you should know.".

Mustang was still slightly gobsmacked.

"And as for the second problem- we completed every interview last night of every man involved with the dead couple. All of them had alibis. We're increasing our interviewing to every man known to ANY of the victims, but it will take two or three days, and it's not looking promising. We may have overestimated the likelihood of Ed's theory.".

Mustang heaved a sigh, grabbing his uniform coat and tugging it on. "So- where do we go from here?".

Atkins sighed. "Frankly- I don't know. I was hoping we'd get some idea at the morgue...".

Mustang frowned. "You want to go to the morgue? After you just pulled an all-nighter on those interviews? You're almost as bad as Ed. Get four hours sleep, at least...".

"That sounds delightful." Atkins deadpanned. "But the investigation..."

"I'm competent enough to run an investigation for four hours while you sleep, Lieutenant.".

"If you insist." Atkins fairly collapsed onto his cot.

The door to the hotel room opened, and Ed stepped into the room in his usual attire, sipping a Styrofoam mug of coffee. "Fullmetal- we need to talk on the way to the morgue.".

"What's up?" Ed asked, not in the mood to dance around. It was too early for that crap anyways.

"The hospital called the hotel room. Your STD tests were negative. Do you have anything you want to talk about?".

Ed froze. Then took a drag of his coffee. Then shrugged and kept walking. "What's there to say?".

Mustang blanched. "Seriously? You're fourteen, what the hell are you doing having sex!?"

Ed was blushing beet red now. He'd only gotten the damn STD test so he could ask the nurse about those pregnancy questions without raising suspicion or getting thought of as a crazy person, and now it'd backfired so spectacularly.

"You're my boss, Mustang- you aren't supposed to ask me this stuff!".

"I'm your legal guardian, I'm supposed to make sure you don't fuck up your life!".

Ed looked down at his automail arm and leg pointedly, then looked at Mustang. "Well I hate to break it to you, but my life has indeed been fucked up quite spectacularly.".

"And you think having sex is going to fix it?" Roy asked seriously.

Ed sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are we really going to talk about this? Because what I do and don't do in my sex life is private.". He did not want to be here, right now, discussing his sex life with Mustang. But the only other alternative was to tell Mustang he was a virgin and he'd taken an STD test so he could ask the nurse questions about pregnancy because ghosts were making him think he was pregnant. And that would be even harder to explain.

Mustang looked like he was getting a migraine, massaging his temples. "But... you're fourteen. Alphonse is always with you, I thought you wanted to get your bodies back. You realize how irresponsible that is, right? You might bring another life into this world.".

"No, really, I hadn't thought of that." Ed said seriously.

Roy sighed. "Do you ever think before you act?"

Ed smirked sarcastically. "Yes. Sometimes." he was getting over the awkwardness of this situation, and it was quite fun to watch Mustang's blood pressure rise.

"Was it the Rockbell girl? Did you use protection?".

Scratch that. It was once again no longer fun to talk about. "It was NOT Winry! Why the hell do you want details, you womanizing bastard!".

Roy blinked. "It wasn't Rockbell. Was it another teenager? Someone in East City?".

"It doesn't matter! I don't want to talk about this, let's just get to the morgue, okay!?".

Roy sighed, grabbing him by the arm and leading him over to an outdoor cafe table, sitting him down. "Except it does matter. Do you know how to use condoms?".

Ed blinked. "Y-yeah." he'd heard soldiers talking about them in the locker room the headquarters. He was pretty sure if he'd gotten a box he could've figured out how to put them on.

"You know how to use a condom, but you need to have the brain cells to use one. Always. Even if you know she's clean. Because children are a huge responsibility.". Mustang said seriously.

"Okay. Cool. I'm glad we had this talk, I really am. Let's get going." Ed said seriously.

"Wait. I just- did you both have a good time? It went alright?" Mustang actually looked like he cared, and Ed's face was heating up again.

How did one describe sex convincingly when they'd never had sex and only just entered puberty themselves?

"It was riveting." Ed said simply.

"Riveting?" Mustang looked surprised.

Oh fuck- Mustang was onto him and his lying virgin self. "I was satisfied. It was an equivalent exchange." that was a good way to describe good sex, wasn't it?

Mustang looked surprised, and a bit... proud? "That's good. Ladies always like a giving partner."

"Aaaaaand let's never speak of this again. Ever. I'm capable of reading books on human anatomy.".

"Fair enough. Use condoms, don't be stupid." Mustang stood, and they were heading back to the morgue in blessed silence. Though Ed was still blushing.

---

When they arrived at their makeshift HQ at the morgue, they were met with more bad news.

"I was right about the lab mix-up. The reagent they use to detect HCG is expired." Sarah said, looking a bit upset.

"A failure of the Quality Assurance process. They should've noticed in inspections but didn't." Ivan was looking disappointed.

Mustang frowned. "So what does that mean? The HCG results on all the autopsy reports aren't valid?"

"They could be called into question, yeah." Sarah admitted.

Ed frowned. "I've used expired reagents and chemicals for alchemy before, and most of the time the transmutation still works. I'd assume the results are still accurate, though they may not be as precise as before...".

Sarah frowned. "I wish it was that simple. But the fact is that there was no signs of pregnancy in any of the victims, and the HCG results were in the low end. How could all of those women be in early pregnancy without physical signs such as thickening of the uterus and other changes to the ovaries I'd see?".

"So they weren't pregnant." Mustang said simply.

"They were." Ed said seriously.

Sarah sighed. "My autopsy findings don't support that, and with the lab using an expired reagent to do the test, it's my professional opinion that the victims weren't pregnant.".

"It's my opinion you're wrong." Ed said simply.

Sarah sighed. "Look. I know you're the real deal, Ed, but we need solid things we can prove. My autopsy findings and the lab results are pointing in another direction.".

I was pregnant.

The whisper hit him, and he nodded.

"I know you were. I know. I'm the only one who believes you...".

"So if the victims weren't pregnant, then our whole theory on the rapist and killer falls apart." Mustang was looking a bit concerned.

"Your autopsy findings might've shown they weren't currently pregnant, but the reagent- look, even if the reagent was out of date, you'd agree it would point to the fact that their HCG levels were elevated, even if your autopsy shows they weren't pregnant, right?" Ed said simply.

Sarah nodded. "I suppose.".

"So- what causes HCG elevation in women who aren't pregnant?".

"A tumor. Endocrine disorders. Miscarriage." Sarah listed them all off. "but it just... it doesn't make sense. Occam's razor- the simplest explanation is often the right one. All these women were either in early pregnancy or miscarriage? Or a faulty reagent in the lab? It just seems like everything is pointing in the other direction." Sarah said simply.

Ed sighed. "Is there anyway to redo the test? With new reagent?".

Sarah shook her head. "Samples have already been discarded, and one of the victims was cremated. I'm sorry- I really am- but it seems like we're back at square one.".

Ed was already moving towards the door of the morgue. "I need some air.".

"I'll go with you. It's too crowded in here." Savannah said simply.

They ended up walking around the block.

Ed sighed. "They were pregnant. All of the female victims.".

"Even the one without elevated HCG?" Savannah asked, looking a bit surprised.

Ed sighed. "How long does HCG stick around in the body anyways?"

"It has a halflife of one to two days." Savannah rattled it off. Man, he was glad she was obsessed with reading old medical textbooks.

Ed nodded. "Right- so if someone had a miscarriage two weeks before, their HCG would drop to only a few hundred MIU/ML, right? Like we were picking up?"

Savannah nodded, though she looked uncertain. "That would be strange, though. All the women killed having miscarriages.".

Ed sighed. "We're missing something. I know it. And those women were pregnant. Everyone giving up on it, just because it's improbable and the results don't seem that way, is crazy. Then again- I'm sure I look crazy, running around with my half-baked theories. The whole fucking case unraveled overnight. We have nothing. The spirits aren't talking much. We're back to square one.".

"But we aren't. Because you have a feeling, despite all the results indicating otherwise, right?" Savannah said seriously.

Ed paused. "Are you mocking me?".

Savannah shook her head, green eyes looking genuine. "No. I'm encouraging you. Because if you believe in something fully- no matter improbable it is- and you honestly think it's true- then you should investigate every avenue before you discard your theory.".

"Yeah. You're right." Ed said seriously. "Even if everyone else thinks it's nuts. We might have to go outside official channels and look into this on our own." Ed frowned. "I just wish I had an idea on what to look into next.".

Savannah grinned. "Sounds like we're going to be taking more walks around town at night, huh?".

Ed nodded. "Yeah. We are. We should get back to the morgue.".

The rest of the day carried on in melancholy silence. The wind had been taken out of the sails in the case, and everyone was downcast.

We told you it was wrong.

Told you. Told you.

I'm getting buried tomorrow. Don't let them get away with what they did to us!

Ed sighed. I'm trying. I really am. I swear.

He and Savannah ended up wandering West City late that night- but the candles weren't in the window of 443 along the canal, the lights were off, curtains drawn, and they ended up heading back to their respective beds for the night.

---

Any and all reviews/feedback is appreciated! What was your favorite part?

Chapter 10: Day 6

We've told you everything we're willing to talk about.

There are some details too private to divulge.

I did what I had to do.

I'm ashamed. It was a mistake and cost me everything.

I had no other choice.

He was being pulled underwater again- in the canal, choking on the water.

Why can't you help us?

I know you couldn't save us, but find them, please.

"...metal..."

I got what I deserved. I want you to give them the hell  they  deserve.

"Fullmetal!"

He sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat. Mustang was standing beside his bed, hands on his shoulders, and Atkins was standing at the foot of his bed, looking concerned.

"I don't... I... what?" Ed gasped, confused, trying to catch his breath.

"You were crying in your sleep. Your nose is bleeding." Mustang said simply, handing him a handkerchief that he fumbled to press to his nose.

"They were talking to me. They don't... they don't want to tell me anymore, they said it was too painful... but... god, I wish i could remember." Ed said, sighing and leaning forward.

At that exact moment, the phone in their hotel room rang.

Mustang looked surprised, then grim, as he grabbed the receiver.

"Mustang here." he frowned, looking upset and then concerned. "Understood. We'll be there in twenty minutes.". He sighed, hanging up the phone.

"We have another body."

Ed was already stumbling out of bed, one hand holding the bloody handkerchief to his nose while the other fumbled for his leather pants. He slid into the back of a car of the investigation's squad, watching the rain fall on the window as they went.

They stopped at a traffic light, and Ed paused- he could've sworn he saw a girl standing on the sidewalk. But when he looked again, she was gone. A trick of the light, or sleep deprivation, but he kept seeing shadows out of the corner of his eyes. If was just after dawn, and the sky was skill a hazy ornge color- like a sputter candleflame, not sure if it was destined to burn or be snuffed out yet.

When they arrived, it was much the same story as before- except the woman was in the middle of the street with her throat slit.

The spring rain was falling heavily, smearing the crimson on the pavement around her like angel wings. It dripped into the storm drains, pink water looking bright orange underneath the glow of the streetlights.

Throat slit, pale lips parted, hazel eyes staring up at the night sky, unseeing, gazing into another world.

But what struck him the most was the battered wooden crutches tossed carelessly to the side of the woman. He flashed back to a few evenings ago- to the woman outside of 443 along the canal. Three candles burning in the window.

"Oh.".

There was the dead woman, sitting on the sidewalk by the stormdrain, only a few feet from her corpse, crying.

"I don't understand!"

"I know. I don't either. What happened to you- the other night, at the house alongside the canal- three candles burning in the window- what was going on there?"

The woman said nothing, but her eyes widened, and she moved away from him, looking afraid.

Ed frowned. "Who did this to you? Did you see their face?".

She shook her head- even though she was dead, she was absolutely saturated by the rain.

"No. They knocked my crutches away- I fell down. They slit my throat. I never even saw their face. It was cold. It hurt."

"I'm sorry that happened to you." How do I help her?

Thunder crashed.

Somewhere in the night, a baby was crying.

Ed jolted up, eyes wild.

"Where the hell is the kid?".

"What are you talking about? There's no children here." one of the investigators said.

"No, there is, the baby was crying, the lady is right there..."

He turned back to the sidewalk to find she was gone.

"Where did you go?"

I don't know where to go or what to do now. I think I'll go to sleep.

"Get out of the street, kid. We have to take her to the morgue." one of the investigations team- a red head with a brush cut- shoved him out of the way, and he tripped over the curb and nearly faceplanted.

"When she gets there- ask Sarah to do a post-mortem blood draw and get an HCG level with fresh reagent, will you?".

A new investigator- a man built like Armstrong with silver hair and a square jaw- scoffed. "Kid, you've wasted enough of our time and resources with that whole crackpot rapist murderer theory. They might as well ship you back to East City where you can muck it up there.".

Ed blinked- lightening flashed, and he was watching the medical examiner- a serious, dark haired woman in a tan trench coat. supervised. He watched the men lift her up- like a broken angel bathed in the flash of lightening- her arm hanging limply off the gurney until she was securely packed into the black body bag, zipped up and loaded into the back of the ambulance.

He didn't miss the air of hostility in the area, either. Several of the investigators- men he'd never seen before- were giving him glares. He caught snatches of conversation around the thunder.

"If Atkins would spend half the time he does in the office instead of with the little psychic, this would be solved already...".

"Waste of time..."

"Just a kid...".

He said nothing, pulling up his hood to try and shield himself from the rain. He was grateful it was pouring, because suddenly, he felt like such a failure- tears were welling up in his eyes, and he kept his gaze turned towards the ground.

I don't want to be here anymore. he thought to himself, feeling like a waste of space. He clenched his fists, feeling his stomach lurch. He didn't want to be here- in this city, without Al on this case, feeling a baby moving in his stomach that wasn't his...

There was a flash of lightening, and the lady from the canal was standing there, wrapped in her shawl, looking at him. She only said one word.

"Run". before she was taking off at a dead sprint down the alley to the right.

He obeyed without question- taking off at a dead sprint, despite the alarmed shouts from people behind them.

It was pouring, but the woman never stopped running- HE could hear boots slapping the ground behind him, but he disregarded them completely, ducking through the maze of the alleys until they were standing at a dead end.

They didn't have long- Mustang, at least, and several other investigators- were probably less than thirty seconds behind him.

"What now?"

The woman said nothing, stepping forward and opening her shawl- like a mother hen, she pulled him into her, and even though it was pouring, her shawl was dry.

When she let him go from her embrace, they were standing in front of the canal again, less than a block from their hotel.

"You said once I couldn't go on anymore, you'd find me." he recalled he words in his head that night he'd been pulled into the canal- literally swimming through his brain as he fought for breath, for air.

She nodded. Her face was downturned, the brown hood of her shawl hiding her features.

"What do you want me to do?"

Go back to the house with candles. Bring the girl with you.

Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence- the very air around them was crackling with electricity.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll do that. Were you pregnant?" he was desperate for any direction- because he honestly didn't know what to believe anymore.

Her garbled sob was confirmation enough.

"I'm sorry- so sorry- that this happened to you."

The woman said nothing, gaze still downcast, as it continued to pour rain.

"Don't let It hAppen to anyone else..." her voice was growing more garbled, sounding in odd pitches and cracking. Was she fading away?

"I have To go bAcK. Don't follow mE."

There was a large black stain on the sidewalk below her- it was tar, dripping from beneath her skirt.

She stepped into the canal wordlessly- but instead of plunging into the glassy water, she started to slowly sink, like it was quicksand, pulling her under.

Ed crouched down to watch her, entranced. He was on all fours, staring to the canal as it seemed to swallow her whole.

She didn't even disappear when her head was fully submerged- instead, she looked up, her hood falling down to reveal a young face of a woman in her mid-twenties.

He failed to muffle his sob- because he'd seen that very same face and those curls lying on the autopsy table of the morgue on his first day in west city.

He had a feeling this would be the last time he saw the lady of the canal. but he couldn't pull his eyes from her face- he had to keep looking- if he looked away, she';d be gone forever. He wanted her to know he wouldn't forget her, he'd figure this out. He'd help her find peace.

"I thought you'd be here. Mustang! I found him!" Atkins voice was miles away.

He wordlessly reached out a hand, pressing his flat palm to the surface of the water.

Her brown curls were like a halo around her head- face young, pretty. Her beauty was just a further reminder of the future that'd been stolen from her. She reached up her own thin hand and pressed her flat palm against his own. She was cold like ice.

It'd stopped raining, now. Voices swirled around him like raindrops.

"What is he doing?"

"Freaky..."

"Blood everywhere..."

"Fullmetal. Hey, Fullmetal." that last voice held a bit more pull to his consciousness- if only because it was Mustang. But the man had to see he was busy, had to understand he needed to remember this girl, couldn't look away...

The familiar, rough texture of ignition cloth on his flesh wrist was physically pulling his hand from the water. It was like he was surfacing from being submerged himself- he gasped- the woman's image was no longer staring up at him from the canal, and turned to come face-to-face with a concerned looking Mustang who was crouching down beside him, his flesh wrist still held in his grasp.

"You with us, Fullmetal?"

"...what?"

"I asked if you were with us." Mustang said seriously.

Atkins was leaning down beside him, handing Mustang a wad of cloth, and the man was shoving it in his face. He twisted, trying to get away...

"Ed- you're all blood, kid. Let him clean you up." Atkins said, looking equally concerned.

He blinked, looking down. Atkins was right- he must've had one hell of a nosebleed, because there was blood all down his face and the front of his shirt.

Atkins checked his wristwatch, looking serious. "You've been missing for 23 minutes. Do you remember what happened?"

"The lady brought me here." Ed said simply.

He was growing aware of the murmuring of investigators behind him- some looking concerned, others annoyed, as they talked to one another in voices too low to be heard.

"There's a house we need to stake out." Ed said simply. He was about to elaborate about the house with the candles burning in the windows, but he was interrupted.

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Because this is ridiculous." The red-haired investigator stepped forward, looking down at Ed with contempt as he shakily got to his feet, Mustang and Atkins following.

"I can't believe you actually believe this kid after that stunt he pulled, running off like that. I don't know if he needs to go to church or something- but he's not right. But if you spent half the time you spent in the morgue and with this kid down at the office with the taskforce, we'd have solved this shit by now! He's wasted enough of our time with his crackpot theory about the serial rapist.". The red-head's brown eyes were flaming, and he looked at Ed with contempt.

"Davidson- not here." Atkins protested, throwing Ed and Mustang a concerned glance.

"Leutienant, when are you going to get your head out of your ass and realize this kid is a fraud!?" the red head, Davidson, apparently, plowed onwards anyways.

Rage blossomed in Ed's chest like a forest fire. He had no idea why- until he saw the pale woman's hand scrabbling up from the canal, reaching towards Davidson's ankles.

Push him in.

Davidson had stepped forward, poking his finger into Ed's chest. "You need to go back to East City, kid." He opened his mouth to say more, but was cut short when Ed gave the man a two-handed shove and he plunged into the canal.

"Davidson!" Atkins surged forward, and everyone stepped back, looking at Ed with alarm.

Davidson surfaced, sputtering and enraged, a moment later, treading water. "What the fuck!?"

"Fullmetal- what the hell?" Mustang looked at Ed in confusion.

Ed shrugged. "The lady told me to."

"I'm gonna kick your ass you little shit!" Davidson was grabbing onto the bank and preparing to haul himself out of the water, and Atkins turned to Mustang. "Get him out of here.".

Mustang nodded, placing a firm hand on Ed's shoulder and guiding him back towards the hotel.

"Fullmetal. Seriously. What's gotten into you?".

Ed shrugged. "He was an asshole. The lady said push him in. So I did.".

"You can't just push the sergeant into the canal because he pissed you off!" Mustang balked.

Ed shrugged. "Why can't I? He was out of line- shouting in my face, he poked me. He's a sergeant, I'm a Major. So what, I shoved him in the canal? Not like he died or something.".

Mustang sighed as they were mounting the stairs to their hotel room, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't get it, do you? There's already a big divide between the investigations task force and us- this is just going to make things worse. You've made everything so much harder.".

"I don't care. He deserved it." Ed said, hands clenching into fists. "He deserves that and worse. That guy is something special, he's lucky all I did was throw him in the canal..." he had no idea why, but the rage was bubbling up in him unbidden now- he personally hated that man, even though he'd never met him before in his life.

Mustang fairly shoved him into their hotel room, peeling off his own sodden coat.

"What is wrong with you? I get that he insulted you, but you just threw another officer into a canal! I don't care if you outrank him, that's assault on a junior military member!".

"I. Don't. Care. He deserved it." Ed said resolutely.

"You know what, fine. Fine. Put your stupid hairtrigger temper to the side for a moment. The investigations team already hates us- they just might get us sent back to East City over this, kid!".

Ed blinked. "Really?".

"Yes, really! Sergeant Davidson- he's the main guy in charge of Atkin's task force. And you just shoved him in the canal. So yeah, they're probably going to try to get us sent away from here...".

"Why do you care? You can get back to the life being a bastard Colonel in East City all that sooner. Unless you think by putting that asshole in his place has damaged your precious reputation." Ed said snarkily. Really, he was just ready for a fight now- it didn't matter who. He had to do something with all this anger inside him.

"No! I'm just pissed because I know you can solve this case, and if we get thrown out of town before you do, this freak will just keep killing people!" Mustang looked genuinely upset. "I know this case has been hard on you. I get that you're going through a lot. But that's no excuse to get careless- you can solve this. I've seen what you can do. Forget the investigations squad- forget everyone but me and Atkins. And get your shit together, because we have to stop this guy...".

Ed peeled off his wet red coat, flopping down on his bed.

"Take a nap or something. I don't understand you- I can't deal with this right now.". Mustang said, looking stressed.

"Fine." Ed wrapped himself in the blankets and waited.

The phone rang half an hour later- Ro picked up the phone. "Mustang here. Yeah- he's here. Fullmetal- it's Savannah. She wants to talk to you.".

Ed sat up, drowsey and half-asleep.

"Hello?"

"Ed- it's me. We got the new victim in. I watched the tech run the HCG blood test. It's elevated. But there are no signs of pregnancy on the autopsy. I saw for myself.".

Ed sighed. "We're missing something.".

"I know."

"Can you come by my hotel tonight? I need someone to talk to who I can trust- someone who thinks I'm not crazy..."

"I get it. I'm working until five- I need an hour or two to get dinner and a shower, but I'll be over at seven."

"Okay." he was relieved at the idea of having Savannah with him. "Okay. Thanks. See you then. Bye.". He hung up the phone.

Mustang frowned at him. "You think you're going to be allowed to go out tonight after that stunt you just pulled?" Mustang looked over at him skeptically.

Ed sighed. "It's about the case, Mustang. Everyone is always breathing down my neck- you heard the investigations team call me a fraud. Half of them think I'm full of it and the other half think I'm nuts. I need to talk to her. She's gonna have an autopsy report for me, and we can walk around and talk about the case..."

Mustang looked skeptical. "You'd better be back by ten. Sharp. We're going to be dealing with the fallout from the stunt you pulled today for awhile, kid. I hope you realize that.".

"I probably shouldn't have shoved him into the canal. I get it. But I can't say I regret it." Ed said simply, wrapping himself in the blankets and turning to face the wall. "That guy really pissed me off.".

What was your favorite part?

Chapter 11: Day 6 (and a half)

"I can't sleep. I've read every casefile ten times. I want to go talk to the body." Ed said seriously, pacing the hotel room. "I need to see Savannah.".

Roy frowned. "You really think I'm going to take you to the morgue after what happened this morning?".

Ed nodded. "Yes. Because it's for the case. You said I could solve the case- don't tell me you're doubting me now.".

Mustang sighed. "It's not a matter of not having faith in you, Fullmetal- it's a matter of what's smart at this point. Keeping your head down until the whole canal incident blows over might be out best bet to stay assigned to this case...".

"And if their petition to get you two removed from the case is approved tomorrow, then it won't matter anyways. This may be his last chance to go back to the morgue." Atkins had walked in in the middle of their conversation, looking stressed.

"So- they are petitioning to have us sent back to East City?" Mustang didn't look pleased at the news.

"Yes." Atkins sighed. "Honestly- Sergeant Davidson wanted to press charges for assault, but the fast that he put his hands on you first and poked you in the chest would've complicated it. But as it is, he's petitioning above you heads to get you two on the next train out of here. The powers that be will decide if it happens or not tomorrow.". Atkins was looking downcast.

"Why do they hate me? What the hell did I do to make them not like me?" Ed asked seriously.

"You threw a guy in the canal. That's one thing." Mustang supplied unhelpfully.

Atkins sighed. "I honestly don't know. West City is very... insular... when it comes to military. We have a lot of hardened people and veterans in investigations. You sort of have to pay your dues to get the time of day around here. It took me three months to establish myself once I was reassigned here, and you- well, you're just the perfect storm, I guess. A young upstart from East City with the military rank of major- I guess it rubs my guys the wrong way. And the fact that you have paranormal abilities- that are kept off the record, of course, but they've heard the stories of the factory killer- frightens some of them.".

"So they all want me gone because I threaten them? Don't they give a shit about solving this case?" Ed asked seriously.

"They do. But they're skeptical. Half of them don't believe you have paranormal abilities. And the other half think you may have paranormal abilities, but the whole false start on the rapist-killer theory has them doubting, and they think we could just work the case better without you.".

"It would be a lot easier if you would. I got voices in my head saying all kinds of weird shit I don't understand, I keep puking and feeling weird all the time, and dead people crying and disembodied voices wake me up all the time." Ed admitted.

Mustang was scrutinizing him carefully, now. "You think you being sick these past few days has something to do with the case? The hospital said it was viral.".

Ed shrugged. "I don't... I only ever threw up in the mornings. Food tastes like shit lately, unless it's something I've been craving, and all the victims were pregnant- and I don't care to argue that fact, regardless of the autopsy reports. Because despite what the evidence says, I know what I'm talking about.".

"And you... you think you were experiencing... morning sickness?" Atkins was looking surprised at the theory.

Ed nodded. "Among other things. Headaches, nausea, irritability- it sucks, to be honest. The first time I felt the baby kick I thought I was going crazy.".

Atkins had gone pale and sat on the edge of his cot, looking ghastly white as he stared at Ed. "Are you... are you okay?".

Ed shrugged "I think so?".

"Are you actually, physically pregnant?" Atkins spoke slowly and deliberately, still looking at Ed as though he'd grown a second head.

"No. I feed off emotions and experience sensations the victims did. I hear their thoughts- at least one of them was suicidal at one point, because that was a rough one to deal with, but once I realize the thoughts don't belong to me, I can normally push through them...".

"This is complicated." Atkins admitted, still looking dazed.

Ed gave him a humorless chuckle. "No shit. Let me explain it to you like this- see this arm? It's made of metal." he revealed his automail arm, flexing his metal fingers. "I have no flesh arm anymore. But sometimes- I get phantom pains. Sometimes it feels like my fingers are bent in the wrong direction, or my arm is itchy- but I have no arm. Still feel it sometimes, though.".

"So basically- I am not a woman. I have no uterus. I'm not pregnant. But I can feel their emotions, the physical sensations- that they went through. And it's uncomfortable and unsettling. I don't like it.".

"This is why you refuse to let go of the fact all the victims were pregnant, despite the autopsy evidence?" Mustang asked.

Ed nodded wordlessly. "Yeah. And I'm the only one who accepts it, too, because everyone else thinks I'm a crackpot attention whore.".

"If he's right, then we're missing something big." Atkins said, exchanging looks with Mustang. "We need him in the morgue. Especially if you two are removed from the case after the paperwork is submitted requesting it tomorrow- this could be his last chance to get us in the right direction.".

"If your people will even listen to me anymore." Ed muttered skeptically.

"My men may be skeptical, Edward- but I haven't doubted you. Not after what happened in that factory." Atkins said seriously.

Ed gave him a sideways glance, as though he weren't sure the man was telling the truth or not. He seemed sincere. "Okay. You believe me. So what- it's not like your men do. Are they going to be willing to carry out orders you give on my hunches?".

Atkins sighed. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's just head to the morgue and figure out whatever we can before our time together is up. Sound like a plan?"

"Sure." Ed said. Because honestly, what else could he say? Half of him was restless, wanting to get to the morgue as soon as possible- and the other half was secretly hoping they'd get removed from the investigation soon, because he was getting tired of all this shit.

Please don't give up on me. You're getting closer.

His frustration softened at the woman's voice- so quiet it was nearly a whisper- as they made their way back to the morgue.

There was the whirling of the bone-saw leaving no room for conversation as they stepped into the morgue.

Unfortunately, they weren't exactly alone on the morgue. Some of the other investigations squad- a brunette with a ponytail and a serious expression, and serious silver eyes- and a man with a brown brushcut- sat watching the proceedings grimly.

When Atkins saw them, he frowned. "June. Lawson. What are you doing here?".

"Looking for you, Sir. There's still quite a lot going on at the taskforce HQ- Davidson is on the warpath.".

"Dammit." Atkins looked annoyed. "We have a fresh victim and body. New evidence, new witnesses to handle. He can't keep his shit together until then?"

He ducked out of the room with his investigators, presumably to put out more fires.

When the current autopsy was mainly done, Savannah set down her pen and paperwork and strode over to Ed.

"We finished her autopsy just before noon. I made you a copy of the reports." she looked over her shoulder at the white-sheet form lying on the cold steel table. "I wanted to discuss the results with you, but it's stuffy in here and I really need some air.".

Ed nodded, understanding what she was getting at. "Mustang- can we go for a walk?".

Mustang nodded absently. "Yes. But don't go far, and stay together.".

"Cool.".

They ended up walking around the block- Ed thumbing through the autopsy report and Savannah looking a disturbed and preoccupied.

"She looks familiar. I wasn't sure if she was the woman from the other day, but when she got brought in with blood-stained crutches, I knew...". She gave Ed a worried look.

Ed nodded. "I know. She was the woman from yesterday. The one from 443 who visited the house. And she was pregnant.".

Savannah sighed. "Don't you think you should tell the military about the house before they take you off the case?".

Ed stopped walking, stiffening slightly. "Who told you we were getting taken off the case?".

Savannah sighed. "Some of the guys who escorted the body to the morgue. They said you shoved someone into the canal.".

"You know, sometimes you're the only person who believes me." Ed admitted quietly. "That guy got in my face and was shouting at me. Said I was a fake. And that I was wasting time.".

"I DO believe you. I do." Savannah looked pained. "I'm just worried about what happens if they take you off the case. They haven't solved it on their own- I don't think they can. And we both know it's something about 443 by the canal- they need to investigate the house.".

"Psychic testimony and hunches isn't exactly enough for a search warrant." Ed said simply, tucking the autopsy report into his cost and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Well if the police knew she went there a day or two before she died, they could at least try to interview the people living there..."

"And give them all the time they need to ditch the evidence after they realize we're onto them and spook them by having the police knock on the door." Ed said seriously.

"Well you have to do something!" Savannah looked at him, green eyes burning with frustration.

Ed cocked his head at her. "Who said I was doing nothing?".

"You! You said you aren't telling the investigations squad or anything, so what are you doing!?".

Ed sighed. "I tried to tell the investigations squad about the house. I got talked over by some guy. Then I shoved him into the canal. Suffice to say workplace relations aren't honkey-dorey right now. Even if I did tell the squad, at this point I doubt they'd believe me. But I still have at least one night left in West City. And I need your help." Ed's expression softened slightly as he looked over at Savannah.

Savannah looked hesitant. "What do you want me to do?".

"We go into the house tonight. Together.".

Savannah looked dubious. "How do we know we aren't walking in on the killers?".

"Because- they let woman in crutches walk out that night she visited. You'd think they'd kill her right then and there if they were the murders. They're involved, but not the killers. I don't think they'll let me in if I'm alone. The lady by the canal said I should take you with me. Will you come?".

"Okay." Savannah's hesitance turned to resolve, her expression hardening with determination.

Ed was relieved. "Thanks. Really. It means a lot- because I have no idea what we're walking into.".

They were nearly around the block, now, heading back towards the hospital.

There was a woman standing on the corner of the street- she was long and willowy, with light amethyst eyes. She turned to look at Ed, frowning.

"They're watching you. Be careful." and she dissolved into shimmering mist.

Ed turned, looking around. They were alone on the sidewalk- other than an outdoor cafe across the street that had a handful of patrons seated at tables, and a handful of nurses heading over from the hospital on their lunch break, there was no one.

"Ed?" Savannah looked at him questioningly. "You saw something just now, didn't you?".

Ed frowned, taking her hand and guiding her forward, leaning in close to whisper to her.

"We're being watched.".

The morgue was deserted when they entered- Savannah frowned, grabbing a metal stool and frowning.

"What did you see just now?" Savannah asked.

You're getting closer.

You're both in danger.

Don't Go AnyWheRe AlOnE.

And the banging and thudding from the cold lockers on the other side of the room- like the cadavers had been reanimated and were kicking the doors of the cold drawers from the inside.

"A woman. She said we're being watched. They're talking- they haven't been this loud in days." Ed was walking past her to the cold lockers, as though in a trance.

Don't let them take her.

They'll drag you to HeLL.

They'll take you too.

But he's a boy?

It doesn't matter. They took my fiance too.

It hurt.

"Please- listen- I'm running out of time. I might be ordered to leave the city tomorrow. I need you to tell me whatever you know.".

Lay down and rest awhile.

Spend time with us! It's lonely here!

Too dark. too QuiEt.

"What are they saying?" Savannah stood behind him- he was leaning forward, hand on the handle to one of the cold drawers.

Ed took a deep breath, steeling himself. "They want me to spend time with them.".

"They want you to... lay down in a cold drawer?". Savannah looked puzzles at the request.

Ed nodded seriously. "Yes. They do. And proximity helps- if I'm closer to the bodies, I may be able to get something...".

Savannah had placed a hand over her mouth- half of her considering, half looking disturbed.

"If you go in a drawer, you'll have to leave the very end open. It's refrigerated, so when it's sealed, there's no oxygen...".

Ed nodded. "I'm okay with that.". he ran his hand over the handles of the vacant cold drawers, coming to one that felt warm, if not hot, under his flesh hand.

"This one." he said resolutely.

Savannah swallowed. "Right. Why did you pick that drawer?".

Ed frowned. "Because... the handle is warm. Why do you look so surprised?".

Savannah took a deep breath. "Because- that's the drawer where we put the first victim in. Like, a month ago. She's buried now, but I remember it vividly, because she was the first one to come in with a slit throat...".

Ed!

Please!

We're running short on time.

It's cold.

He could feel their anxiety radiating from the drawers, and he wordlessly pulled out the cold drawer all the way, climbing into it and laying down.

The slab was surprisingly comfortable. It wasn't luxury accomadations by any means, but it was comparable to laying on smooth cement.

"You're sure about this?" Savannah asked quietly.

Ed nodded. "Close it. As much as you can.".

Savannah nodded- he laid back- and she slid the drawer most of the way closed, leaving it open about three inches at the end, giving him only a small skit of light by his feet to focus on.

He took a deep breath, laying back and trying to calm his claustrophobia. This was actually quite roomy- it was made to accommodate an adult, after all.

It's probably about the size of a coffin. he realized.

The most disconcerting thing, once he got used to the small size, was the absence of light. He could see the next stone slab above him, but it was pitch black on all sides, except for the small slide of light where the drawer was open by his feet.

He took a deep breath and let it out, surprised when his breath fogged in front of him.

Oh yeah. This is refrigerated.

And then he was being pulled out again, nearly blinded by the fluorescent lights of the morgue.

"Are you okay?" Savannah asked, looking at him critically from where she stood.

"Yeah- I'm fine. It's not bad in there. Quiet.".

Savannah had grabbed a gray knit cardigan from somewhere, and she tucked it around his shoulders. "You have to be cold. It's refrigerated, after all. How long do you want to be in there for?".

Ed shrugged. "An hour or two, maybe. I'm tired. I might take a nap in there.". he suddenly was tired.

Savannah sighed. "Fine. But I'm bringing my stool and paperwork over so I can sit by the drawer and hear you if you need something.".

She reached over, unlacing his boot and wrestling it off his foot.

"Um... rude." Ed said, not sure what else to say as Savannah stared at his automail foot.

Savannah sighed, trying not to chuckle. "Right. If you're going to sleep in there, I want to be able to grab your foot to make sure you still have a pulse. I don't normally put living people in here for such a long time. It's unsettling.".

She explained as she unlaced and tugged off his other boot, revealing his flesh foot.

Ed wiggled his foot, frowning. "You've put living people in here before?".

Savannah hesitated. "When it's hot in the summer, I crawl in here sometimes. But only when Ivan is around, and I never shut the drawer all the way- I worry about getting shut in and not being are to get out. But it's really cool on hot days.".

Ed blinked, slightly surprised at the revelation. He shifted, hovering his shoulders with the gray cardigan like a blanket.

"You're strange." he said finally.

Savannah laughed at him. "Says the psychic military alchemist. Who I'm about to let take a nap in a cold drawer. You really want to do this?".

Ed nodded. "Yeah- anything to solve this case. The victims are talkative today- anything to get more information.".

"Okay. I'll be right outside on my stool doing paperwork- yell if you need anything, or kick your feet. And I'll reach over and feel for a pulse in your foot every now and then if you're quiet for awhile." Savannah confirmed, moving back to the end of the drawer and grabbing the handle.

"Ready?".

He nodded. "Ready.".

She slid the drawer back into it's alcove, and he was plunged back into the darkness.

It was slightly less disconcerting this time- He was expecting it, anyways.

There was an absence of sound- except for the hum of the refrigeration equipment. And he could hear whispering in the distance, but it was too far off to make out.

He watched his breath fog in front of him- condense on the slab above him- and drop back down into him in drops of water.

He wrapped the cardigan around his shoulders, comfortably warm.

He could feel warm fingers on his flesh foot, and he wiggled slightly.

"Just me!" Savannah confirmed, giving his foot a squeeze as she bent down to speak into the small crack of the open drawer.

"Flex your foot once if you're okay.".

He flexed his foot once.

"Cool. Flex your foot twice if you want to take a nap.".

He flexed his foot twice.

"Alright. I'll leave you alone." Savannah retreated, and once again, he was left alone in the darkness.

Cold metal

Steaming pot on the stove.

MeTal ToOls...

He was getting more and more tired. And the whispers were growing louder.

I'm here. I'm listening. Show me what you want me to see. he thought calmly. He fell asleep to the humming of the refrigeration machinery and the rythmic sound of his own breath, and let he whispers pull him under.

Notes:

What do you guys think of this story as a whole? Also- what do you think is going to happen next?

Chapter 12: Day 6 (and three quarters)

Notes:

Trigger warning- this chapter contains graphic images of abortion.

He was in a room. The glow of lamps and and candlelight threw warm hues on the room, and he looked down at his hands.

They were long and slender- feminine- and they were trembling. There were tears on his cheeks.

A faceless old woman- framed with wispy gray hair in a bun like granny's, in a gray skirt and a knit purple sweater- took his shaking hands in his own and guides him to a chair.

The woman had no face. Only a flesh colored blur where her features should be.

On a nearby black stove sat a massive pot of boiling water, steaming away. On the burner beside it, a tea kettle whistled, and the old woman moved away from him to get the kettle- leaving him alone.

He looked at the front door- hard oak, dark wood. It was unlocked. He could run- run for the street and not look back.

He was afraid- terrified, even. But something kept him from bolting back the street. A different kind of fear- an uncertainty of what would become if him if he did run, if he did leave here- that wound his away around his racing heart like a thorny weed in the garden, squeezing until he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The old woman was back, placing a cup of tea in his shaking hands. He struggled to take a sip, his throat constricted from anxiety. It was burning hot, but the pain on his lips made him feel something, other than anxiety. He was crying like a baby.

The old woman placed a weathered hand on his back, rubbing it calmingly.

Will it hurt? His lips moved without him controlling them.

The old woman shook her head in an attempt to be reassuring, and from a dark doorframe, a man of about fifty stepped into the room and went to the sink, washing his hands.

---

"I'm concerned there may be something to Ed's theory." Atkins and Mustang were in the cafeteria with Sarah and Ivan, discussing the latest autopsy results.

Sarah spoke calmly as she ate her sandwhich.

"This woman had a severe musculoskeletal deformity. Thats why she was on crutches. Malformed leg bones- from polio or a birth defect- but she definitely couldn't run away from her killer.".

Sarah paused, finishing her sandwhich half before she continued to talk.

"And she showed no signs of pregnancy. But again- elevated HCG. With a fresh reagent. I had the med tech run the test twice. I'm not sure what to think." Sarah admitted. "I called the reagent manufacturer. They may have a faulty lot of reagent that keeps causing false positives. Its not unheard of. Just... odd.".

Sarah had finished her sandwhich, and she looked over at Ivan's tray where he had a bowl of mashed potatoes sitting to the side, untouched.

Ivan smiled and slid the styrofoam bowl over to her, continuing to eat his soup.

"Thanks. I don't know what it is about being pregnant, but potatoes are my life right now.".

She looked across the table at Atkins and Mustang. "So- any new revelations- from the hard facts investigators or the paranormal team?"

"Nothing but a whole mess of pissed officers as of late." Atkins admitted, slightly frustrated. "Theres too much infighting going on. The taskforce doesn't trust the paranormal side, and tensions have boiled over. They're petitioning to get Ed sent back to East City.".

Sarah finished her bowl of mashed potatoes, frowning. "That's bad for the case..." she admitted.

Atkins frowned. "You sounded like you were going to say something more."

Sarah hesitated. "Its bad for the case, but it might be whats best for him. I'm no parenting whiz, but this baby is my second. And I can see from a mile away that the kid is struggling. Paranormal gifts aside, he's still only, what is it, fourteen?".

"Yeah. He is." Mustang said quietly, nursing his mug of black coffee.

Sarah and Ivan got up to ditch their trays, and Mustang took a sip of coffee to hide his expression.

Sarah had put his feelings into words perfectly. While he wanted Ed to excel and wanted to solve the case- Ed had scared the hell out of him this morning when he'd disappeared down a dead end alley. And he hated the fact they found him by the damn canal even more.

If they were sent back to East City tomorrow, he'd be disappointed they hadn't solved the case, but secretly- he'd also be relieved to get Ed out of here.

They stood, heading back to the morgue.

On first glance, it was deserted, but they noticed Savannah perched on her stool, dutifully filling out paperwork beside the cold drawers.

They all walked- or, in Sarah's case- slightly waddled- over to her.

Mustang frowned. "Where's Ed?"

"He's in here.". Savannah pointed to the cold drawer beside her that was open by about three inches.

"He's what?" Sarah asked, eyes going wide.

Savannah shrugged. "He wanted to be closer to the victims. They're talking today- he's okay. I left the drawer open so he'd have enough oxygen, and I've been checking his foot for a pulse every five minutes. He said he was going to take a nap.".

"So... he's in the dead body lockers. Taking a nap." Atkins restated, looking surprised.

Savannah nodded. "Pretty much.".

"Get him out." Sarah ordered, jaw clenched.

"But he said-"

"I don't care what he said, this is my morgue! Get him out!" Sarah ordered, talking over her.

She waddled forward, grabbing the handle of the drawer and pulling.

If Mustang thought Ed had terrified him this morning by disappearing and being found by the canal, then this was going to give him a heart attack.

He would never forget the sight of the kid laying on a cold slab in an autopsy drawer- he was small enough he didn't even take up most of the top, he was just a kid- so pale, so still. He looked dead. The dried blood beneath his nose did nothing to calm him down. And his eyes were closed.

Sarah moved over, grabbing his wrist. Her clenched jaw relaxed slightly. "Steady pulse. He's fine. Just sleeping." she frowned, noting the dried blood on Ed's face, before she turned to Savannah.

"How many times have I told you not to play with the drawers!".

Savannah hunched her shoulders, looking defensive.

"He asked me to. He said it would help with the investigation.".

"Well he's just a kid, he doesn't know what he's doing! You've worked here for a year, I expect you to know better than this!" Sarah scolded.

Roy was more concerned with the fact that despite all the activity around him, Ed hadn't even stirred.

"Fullmetal. Ed. Wake up." he stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on the kid's pale cheek.

Ed didn't so much as stir.

Roy swallowed, turning to look at Savannah anxiously. "Why isn't he waking up?".

Savannah had gone pale, looking down at Ed's still form nervously. "...I don't know.".

"How long was he in there!?" Sarah demanded.

"About two hours.".

"He's gotta be freezing! Its refridgerated, he's not even wearing a damn coat, and you let him sleep in there!?".

"Fullmetal. I swear to god, if you're playing around, you'd better cut it out." Mustang was trying to hide his worry, but his tone was betraying him.

Ed was still. Dead still. His mind provided unhelpfully.

"We need to get him off the slab. It's probably just really cold." Atkins hand on his shoulder pulled him from his dark thoughts- the man was right.

He stepped forward, looping an arm beneath the kid's knees and behind his shoulders and picking Ed up bridal-style.

The wrinkled gray cardigan that'd been placed over Ed's shoulders like a blanket fell from his limp fingers onto the floor in the process. His head lolled, and Roy was struggling to calm his own rapidly beating heart...

"Get him on a table. And get some socks on him." Sarah ordered.

The shining steel autopsy tables were clean, washed thourughly with alcohol and bleach after every use, and Mustang didn't think twice about gently depositing Ed on one, placing the kid's ragdoll arms beside him.

"Come on, Fullmetal." he slapped the kids cheek lightly, getting no response.

---

The old woman guided him into a dusty back room. He was helped to strip out of his skirt and undergarments- his hands were shaking too badly to do it himself.

He blinked, coming face to face with the female genitalia below his waist- neatly shaven, razorburn and all- with a cheap drugstore razor he'd bought himself in preparation for the occasion.

He was laid back on an old but sturdy metal table.

The faceless man with wavy black hair walked into the room- there was the rumbling of his voice, but he couldn't make out what the man said.

A small table on wheels was laid with metal tools- medical instruments of some kind.

The man's hands were rough but steady as he propped up his legs, exposing the womanhood fully and allowing him room to work.

He resisted the urge to whimper- his fear blossomed tenfold, he felt exposed and so, so dirty...

The faceless man between his legs said something, and the faceless old woman was at his side with a twisted rag that was placed in his mouth. A gag that wasn't held or tied in place, but the message was the same.

Stay quiet. Don't make a sound. Or torture worse than this could befall you. Cold metal was inserted into him. He squirmed on the steel table, whimpering, but the old woman's hands, previously gentle and calming, were on him, holding him firmly in place.

Sweat beaded on his brow, but the old woman wiped it away, urging him to be quiet, be still. It will be over soon. Just when he'd finally relaxed and gotten used to the cold metal inside him, the old woman was doing up a leather strap across his chest, just below his breasts. He was buckled to the table- now he really couldn't run. His fate was sealed.

His arms were strapped down as well, useless at his sides.

He craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of what the man beneath his legs was doing, but the old woman's hands pushed his head back onto the table.

Don't look. It's best you don't see. A warning was mumbled to him- He jolted- Sharp- there was something sharp inside him! A pinch and a burn- a moment later, all he could feel was pressure. Whatever was being inserted into him was little more than an afterthought, now.

He watched the man go for his tools on the small metal table beside them- they all looked far too large and painful.

But whatever they'd done to him, he was comfortably numb, and so he laid there and stared at the crumbling plaster ceiling above him, counting the stains and trying to ignore what was happening between his legs.

The old woman murmured reassuring things to him.

He heard the steady drip, drip, dripping of water. But there was no faucet in the room.

It was only when something warm trickled down his outer thigh and genitals that he realized- it wasn't water. It was blood- his blood- dripping off the old steel table.

He gave a muffled cry of alarm, only to be silenced by his captors dull monotone voices with no words.

He was crying again. The tears dripped down the sides of his face and soaked his hair. Had he ever stopped crying?

His blessed numbness was fading. No more was it just ambigious pressure- he was starting to be able to feel The instruments being inserted again, the painful burning of stretched tissues, and worst of all- the scraping of metal on his insides.

He wailed into the cloth held tightly between his teeth. Why didn't he just spit the cloth out and scream for help?

There are worse things than this that could happen to you. rose to the forefront of his mind unbidden, and he quieted his wail to a hiccupping sob that was quickly shushed by the old woman.

The man peered up between his legs, saying something that was complete gibberish from his feautureless face.

And yet again, he understood the meaning. Almost done. You're doing well. He didn't feel like he was doing well at all- biting back a scream as the man took the metal scraper to his insides again- but the old woman was at his side, wiping his tears and squeezing his restrained hand tightly.

The man set aside his bloodied instruments, and he broke into fresh sobs, because it was over. He was washed below the waist, first with warm water and rags and then with alcohol.

The straps were undone, and he was allowed to sit up. When he tried to walk, he had to lean on the wall, hunched over in pain...

It will fade with time.

---

"Should we take him to the emergency clinic upstairs?" Atkins asked, looking worried.

"I don't know what they'd do for him. His vital signs are fine. He looks like he's just asleep." Sarah said, looking perplexed. "He might be a little chilled from nbeing in the cold, but he should be fine.".

"Then why won't he wake up?" Mustang asked quietly.

"I don't know." Sarah cradled her pregnant belly, looking stressed.

"He's crying.". Savannah sounded dismayed.

Mustang looked over- the kid was biting his lip bloody, and tears were silently trailing down either side of his closed eyes.

He hated seeing the kid like this. It was nearly identical to how he'd been the other night at the hotel- twitching and whimpering, crying in his sleep.

"Edward- wake up.".

He woke up to the cold of a steel table ii his back.

He did the first thing he could think of doing- he screamed, lashing out wildly- he kicked his feet frantically.

He fell off the table and ended up a flailing, screaming mess on the cold tile floor.

"Edward!"

"Major Elric!"

"Ed!"

Mustang was there first- he'd rolled the steel autopsy table away from him so he didn't hurt himself with his thrashing, crouching down so he was eye-level a few feet away from Edward and looking at the kid.

Ed had stopped thrashing, looking around tearfully, confused.

"Don't touch me. Nobody touch me." he said, voice hoarse from screaming.

"Nobody is going to touch you. I promise.".

His heart broke that he was even having to say that to his fourteen year old subordinate, but he needed to hear it, so he'd say it.

"M-Mustang?" He stuttered, wiping his nose on his sleeve, confused.

"Yes. That's me." the kid wasn't calling him a bastard. Something bad had happened to him, even if it was in his own mind.

"Where are we?" Ed was still looking around in confusion- he visibly cringed at the sight of the steel autopsy tables.

"We're at the morgue in West City. You decided to take a nap in the cold lockers and we couldn't wake you up.".

"What did you see, Edward? It had to have been horrible, for you to react like that." Atkins was edging into the scene, looking interested.

Ed blinked. "I... I don't know."

"Describe it for me. Anything will help." Atkins urged.

"I don't remember, okay!" Ed snapped. He was rapidly getting his bearings, orienting himself, wiping the tears from his face and looking more aware.

"If you don't remember, then why are you so upset?" Atkins pushed.

"Shut up before I punch you in the mouth!" Ed snarled.

"That's enough, Atkins.". Mustang ordered- he hadn't moved from where he was crouched, and he didn't, until Ed was on his feet, staying within arm's length of the kid.

Ed's eyes- dull bronze, looking like that of a man who'd seen atrocities- landed on Sarah, and he frowned. "I'd like to speak to you alone."

Sarah looked surprised the the result, but nodded, ducking into her small office and shutting the door behind him.

"Ed- are you alright?" she wanted nothing more than to hug the exhausted looking kid in front of him. She was a mother, afterall.

Ed sniffed, wiping his face. "Yeah, I'm good." he said in a voice that sounded anything but confident.

"I have a question about the autopsies. I've seen all the reports- but there was never any mention of it there, and I need to know. On any of the victims, there was no DNA or rape- but was there evidence of sodomy?".

Sarah leaned heaving on the wall. "I saw no signs. Normally there's... there's tearing, objects that are too large to fit cause a lot of trauma and damage- there is no way possible I'd miss that.".

Ed nodded seriously. "So none of them were sodomized? Not even the male victim?".

Sarah frowned. "It would depend on what kind of object was used. But I gurantee you if it was a sexually motivated sodomy, a brutalizing of passion with an object- a glass bottle or something- there would be visible evidence. What did you see, Ed?".

Ed looked confused, shaking his head. "Nothing. I don't know. I just... thanks for answering my question." he turned, heading for the office door.

"Sweetie- please- just tell me what's going on-"

Sarah stepped forward, arms outstretched as though to hug him.

Ed stepped back, looking alarmed at her approach and quickly sidestepping her. "Please don't." he said softly, before he was turning and leaving the room.

Ed stepped back into the morgue, walking over to Mustang and running a hand over his face. "Can we go back to the hotel now?".

Mustang looked slightly surprised he the request, but he nodded.

Tonight.

Tonight.

Tonight.

Ed stopped, turning to look at Savannah. "Hey- you're still stopping by to hang out tonight, right?".

Savannah looked surprised by the question. "Um... I can. If you're up to it?"

Ed nodded. "I am. See you at seven?"

Savannah nodded.

The walk back to the hotel was wordless, thankfully, and as soon as they got there, Ed threw himself onto his bed, exhausted. It wasn't even three in the afternoon, but Ed looked ready to fall asleep.

"Fullmetal- are you alright?" Mustang asked curiously.

Ed shrugged. "I think so.". His lower belly was starting to cramp and throb, and he curled up slightly on the bed, hoping his posture wasn't noticed. He could feel the dull throbbing- and he had a vague, dreaded feeling that it had something to do with the scraping of his insides earlier.

"Do you want to talk about anything, Fullmetal?"

Ed frowned, looking over at Mustang critically. "I have a... hypothetical question." he admitted finally.

"Okay." Mustang said simply.

"So- if a girl gets pregnant but she's not married- what happens to her and the baby? If there's no father or boyfriend willing to step up?".

Roy straightened his back slightly, looking surprised. "Well... um... most of the time, the girl goes to a home for unwed mothers- a place for other single pregnant women- and she gives birth, and the child is given up for adoption." Mustang was looking uneasy.

"And if they don't want to give the baby up?".

"They end up on government assistance- there aren't many single mothers out there. It's a hard thing, raising a child by yourself. Most people- if they're in a long term relationship, the man who fathered the child steps up and marries the mother, or at least financially provides from her and the kid, if he knows it's his. Fullmetal- why are you asking this? Did you get someone pregnant?".

"What!? No!" Ed looked shocked at the admission, vehemently denying it. "I was just- I think all the victims were pregnant mothers, so I was wondering- only the one had a fiance. And I was wondering what'd happen to the rest.".

"I see." Mustang nodded, looking concerned. "You seemed very interested in meeting with Savannah tonight. Regardless of how exhausted you are. Are you two... involved?".

Ed barked a laugh. "Why does everything have to be about sex with you, you perverted Bastard? No, we're not, "involved" Ed made air quotes around the offending word. "She's just... she's the only friend I've made in West City. This case has been a total nightmare, and we're probably getting booted back to East City tomorrow- is it wrong to want to have a little downtime with a friend?".

"Alright. As long as you're being responsible.". Mustang said simply.

Ed sighed, flopping back on the pillows. "Responsible is my middle name. Now- I'm taking a nap." within fifteen minutes, the kid was out cold.

This left Mustang with some much-needed and rare downtime. Normally, he'd be going over the new autopsy report and working the case- but honestly- he was figuring they'd get sent home tomorrow, so his procrastination probably wouldn't come back to bite him. He was actually thinking about calling Hughes to get his opinion on the case when the phone of their hotel room rang.

"Mustang here." he looked over at the neighboring bed to find Ed still dead to the world, not at all bothered by the phone or his conversation. That was good. The kid deserved some sleep.

"Mustang. Ah, Colonel Mustang, isn't it?" the woman's voice across the line was familiar but unexpected.

"Sarah. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He was going to flirt to break the ice, but then remembered the woman was happily married and eight months pregnant.

"Yeah- I bet you're wondering how I got this number. I bugged that Atkins guy to give it to me. I'm no a stalker though.".

"To be honest, I'm glad you called. I wanted to ask you a question..."

"About what Edward asked me in private today? After he had his... episode?" Sarah supplied helpfully.

Mustang nodded. "Yes.".

"He only asked me one question, Doctor- ah- I mean, Colonel, Mustang. Sorry, habit- I'm used to addressing doctors at the hospital." Sarah apologized. "He wanted to know if any of the corpses had been sodomized.".

He dropped the phone, and it landed on the cheap red hotel room carpet with a thud.

"-ustang? Hello?" it was only hearing Sarah's tinny voice on the other end of the dangling phone that made him pick it back up.

"Sorry. I'm here. Yeah, I heard you..."

"So... you think that's what he experienced in his dream?" Sarah asked quietly, tone concerned.

"It's very possible, yeah.". Mustang confirmed quietly, looking over at his sleeping subordinate with concern.

"You need to get him out of here. Away from this investigation. No kid should have to go through this stuff." Sarah said seriously.

"I know it's not pleasant for him. He has a strong desire to help people, it's why he joined the military..." Mustang tried to explain.

"Well, maybe he needs to help himself and get out of this mess before he drowns in it. I don't care if he's a soldier or not, he's still just a kid.".

"I can't argue with that statement. Off the record- I'm hoping we get thrown off the case tomorrow. I'll happily get on the next train back to East City with the kid at this point, even if we don't find the killer- let the damned investigations squad solve it. It's their job, anyways."

"It's good to hear you say that. At least someone is looking out for this kid if the military isn't. How's he doing, by the way?" Sarah asked seriously.

"At the moment- he's asleep. He does this sometimes- after a day with a lot of phenomena and interaction with spirits, he just burns out and sleeps for hours." Mustang admitted. That'd been how it was for the Nightmare Factory case back in East City- where Ed had alternated between leading them to the killing grounds, passing out from exhaustion, and being hospitalized for it.

"That's good. I sent Savannah home early too- they've both been too involved in this case. They're just kids. Are you still going to let him hang out with Savannah tonight?".

"Yeah. If he wakes up and feels up to it, I was going to. He said he's looking forward to it- he knows it's probably going to be our last night in West City, and he wanted to spend some time with her.".

"I'm glad. At least they get to be kids for one night." Sarah admitted, sounding pleased.

"Well- I may not see you again, Doc- Colonel Mustang. So safe travels if I don't see you."

"Right. Thanks. Nice working with you." he hung up the phone.

Notes:

If you're into this story, I'd super appreciate if you could even just drop by and visit my tumblr at fluffykitty12.

Chapter 13: Night 6

Evening dripped into night, and as promised, Savannah was in the hallway of their hotel room at seven, waiting for him.

They walked the streets towards 443 on the canal in a nervous silence, until Savannah broke the tension. "So I know you don't think these people in the house are the killers. But after you left, I overheard Sarah on the phone with your boss- Mustang. And I overheard that you thought they sodomized people. I want to know why you think that. It has something to do with what you saw today, doesn't it?"

Savannah's voice was low as they walked beneath the orange glow of the streetlamps.

Ed sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. "I saw... memories... from one of the victims. She went in the house. They strapped her to a table and inserted medical instruments into her. There was blood. And pain. It wasn't rape, I don't think the man got off on what he was doing. But it was certainly painful. I don't know what else to call it, really.".

Savannah had stopped walking, going pale. "Ed- this house may be giving abortions.".

Ed blinked. "Oh. I always... I never knew they used medical instruments for those. I heard a story or two about them as a kid, but I always assumed abortionists were housewives who used kitchen instruments and stuff... Besides, it's illegal, isn't it?".

Savannah nodded. "Very illegal. A girl in my sister's medschool class was caught doing them- three years in jail is what she got.".

"So- what are we going to do when we get to the house?" Savannah asked, as they continued walking.

Ed shrugged. "Go undercover. I figured we're pretend to be teenagers looking for an abortion- see if they'd be willing to set us up- then act like we're not sure and tell them we'll get back to them and leave.".

"And if they don't let us leave?" Savannah looked nervous.

"They will." Ed said seriously. "They may be doing an illegal thing, and it was horrible- but they're not bad people. The woman- the man- I got the feeling if the women had asked to leave, they'd have been allowed to. They... they were afraid to leave without the abortion, but I think that's just because they were afraid of what having a baby they didn't want would be like, not afraid of the abortionist...".

"What if they're killing people to cover up failed abortions?" Savannah said seriously.

"There would be signs of a failed abortion, though. Uterine trauma. Preforation. This guy uses medical instruments, and he's so good, even Sarah didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I don't think this guy is killing people."

"If these people aren't killing anyone, then who is?" Savannah said quietly.

Ed sighed. "I wish I knew.".

They were coming up to a dance-hall- the music could be heard from outside the street, and on either side of the door stood a member of the investigations taskforce.

Sergeant Davidson- red brushcut and all- strode over to them, narrowing his eyes at Ed. "You shouldn't be out so late, Major Elric." He spoke with clear contempt for Ed's title. "Does the Colonel know you're out this late?".

Ed frowned, looking annoyed. "Yeah, he does, and what I do in my free time is not your business, sergeant." Ed said right back, emphasizing the man's title as well.

Davidson looked from Ed to Savannah, frowning. "It's not safe out here. You two should go back home. You're getting shipped back to East City tomorrow, anyways.". Davidson was almost gloating.

"Thanks for the reminder. Now if you'll excuse me- I have stuff to do." Ed brushed past the man and kept walking, Savannah quickly following behind him.

"I can't wait until they ship you back to East City, you arrogant brat!" Davidson called after them.

"I hope you eat shit and die." Ed muttered darkly to himself, though he kept walking forward, clenching and unclenching his fists. There was something about Davidson- his aggressive, macho-man attitude, maybe, or just the way he was always in his business- that enraged him beyond reason.

"Who was that?" Savannah asked, surprised.

"That was the lovely Sergeant Davidson. Now you see why I shoved him in the damn canal? He's such a fucking manlet, always has to be the loudest and the best in the room even when he has no fucking idea what he's talking about.".

"Is he... always like that?"

"Yes, always. He especially likes to shout at people after they've had a disorienting paranormal experience and call them a fake." Ed said acidly.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with him." Savannah admitted. They were only three blocks from 443, now.

Savannah frowned. "We should give them fake names and have a believable cover story when we go in there. I'm Amanda- I'm sixteen. You're Eric, 15. We had sex two moths ago and my period is late. We're thinking about getting an abortion.".

Ed looked over at her, slightly surprised. "Should I be worried? You're pretty good at lying."

Savannah shrugged. They could see 443, now, and the curtains were drawn. No candles were burning in the window. Ed started to mount the front steps of the building, hesitating. Savannah was standing on the sidewalk below, looking nervous.

The front door swung open, and an old woman stepped out onto the stairway, wispy gray hair done in a tight ponytail, and lit a ciggarette, leaving the door open behind her.

She met their surprised expression with her own serious brown gaze. "If you're going to go inside, then go." she ordered them quickly.

That was all the encouragement they needed. The woman brought her ciggarette inside with her, shutting the door behind them and deadbolting it.

They were led to a nice looking black leather couch.

"Can I interest either of you two in a drink? We have Valerian root tea- it does wonders for nerves." despite her rough, coarse voice from chronic smoking, the woman's lined expression was kind, voice gruff but cordial.

It was odd, really- Ed had seen her before, but her face made her look much more... human.

"Um... water would be great, thanks." he said. Savannah nodded her agreement.

She filled two teacups with tap water from the sink. Ed watched her carefully, making sure there was nothing added to the cups before he took a sip.

"I'll go fetch my nephew. He's the one you'll want to discuss matters with." the woman said simply, black skirt swishing as she walked away.

It was quiet- there was no large pot of boiling water on the stove, Ed noted. That served to relax him some.

A rubber ball bounced down the stairs, hitting an end table near the front door and sending a vase crashing to the ground. It shattered- and upstairs, a baby started wailing.

A frantic boy of about five rushed downstairs, seeing the mess and his ball, looking nervous.

"Lucas! What have I told you about throwing that in the house! You've woken Rosemary!" The black skirted woman came sweeping into the room, looking frustrated, with a large man behind her.

They boy's lip trembled. "It was an accident, Auntie. I swear. I was just rolling it and it fell down the stairs.".

The old woman's face softened slightly. "Go see to your sister. I'll clean this mess up.".

The boy nodded, running upstairs. A moment later, the cries quieted to occasional whimpers and sniffles, and the old woman set to work sweeping up the broken vase.

The man had a large, square frame with broad shoulders. He had a lined face like Falman, and wavy black hair speckled with gray. But what stuck out the most to Ed was the fact this man had familiar green eyes- he was the one who'd treated him at the emergency clinic in the West City Hospital. He'd only been with him for a few minutes- the nurses had done most of the work- the man had just done a breif examination and concluded it was viral- but they'd seen one another.

The man seemed to recognize him as well, and he blinked, looking surprised.

"Edward, is it?" he asked. "I believe we've met before. I'm Doctor Ken."

Ed shot Savannah an apoligetic glance, shaking the man's hand when he offered it. So much for his cover story.

"This is my girlfriend, Amanda. She's... uh... we think she's pregnant.".

"I see." the man nodded, turning to Savannah. "How long?".

"Two months..." Savannah was hoping he bought it. Ed hadn't even been in West City for that long. "I'm from Rush Valley. I travel with Ed a lot, and when we found out, um... he heard we could get hep in West City. I don't... we don't... exactly know what we want to do yet, but if you could give us options, that's what we're here for.".

Ed was silently praising the heavens. Savannah was great at coming up with things on the fly.

"How much do you charge?" Ed asked nervously.

The man shrugged. "Whatever you can afford. I consider it a donation. And your silence, of course.".

"What kind of trouble will we get into if we get caught?" Savannah sounded nervous.

The doctor shrugged. "About six months in prison. But you're children- both of you- so you probably wouldn't face anytime.".

Ed frowned. "Is it safe? Will it hurt her?".

Ken stood. "I sterilize my instruments by boiling and use sterile gloves during the procedure. There may be some discomfort- I inject a local anesthetic as soon as possible to numb the cervix. Sometimes people feel a little bit of it at the end, but she should recover in about a week or so. If you like, I'll go upstairs and show you my operating theater.".

Ed sighed. "I've already seen it. An old metal table. How do you get the blood stains out of the floor?" he asked seriously.

Dr. Ken's eyes widened slightly. "I sterilize with bleach and alcohol afterwards and boil my instruments again. There is some blood, depending on how far along the women are- some bleed more than others. But I'm a doctor- I have surgical clamps and things I can do to stop the bleeding. I use sterile instruments and have medical training. That's more than most abortionists can say." the doctor was looking at Ed seriously, eyes narrowed.

"She's not really pregnant, is she? Is this a sting?".

"Why do you provide abortions, Dr. Ken?". Ed asked seriously. "You have kids of your own upstairs.".

The doctor looked pained. "My wife nearly died having our first son. We knew it wouldn't be advisable to try again. When she got pregnant with our daughter despite every preventative measure we took, we knew it would kill her. By the time we figured it out, it was too far along for me to do anything without the doctors knowing what I'd done- she didn't want to ruin my career. She died in childbirth giving me Alexandra two years ago. I've been providing abortions for whoever comes to me needing one ever since.".

"Do you wish you could go back in time and abort your daughter to save our wife?" Ed asked, tone calm.

The doctor teared up, looking away. "Please don't ask me that. I love them both. Are you going to turn me in or not?"

Ed sighed. "I don't want to turn you in. But are you aware that pretty much every woman who's used your services has been murdered?".

Dr. Ken went ghost white. "What? The West City Ripper- he went after my clients?".

"Your clients and your clients alone, I'm assuming." Ed said seriously. "How did you not know? Haven't you been reading the papers?".

Dr. Ken shook his head. "I read the articles, but they don't post pictures of the crimes scenes. Too grisly for the press. And I don't ask the names of my patients- the women- and sometimes women and their partners- who come to me. It's all illegal- the less I know about them, the better.".

"So you really didn't know." Ed said, sounding skeptical. "Because there is a suspicion you'd kill these women if they turned around and decided to turn you in.".

"Why would I risk my medical license helping these women if I was going to turn around and kill them later?" Dr. Ken looked baffled. "I know providing my services is illegal and a moral gray area, but I have never forgotten the hippocratic oath. Do no harm. And I know none of the women would turn me in, because they'd face jail time as well for having an abortion. I have everything to lose and nothing to gain by killing anyone.".

"Do you believe him, Savannah?" Ed asked calmly.

Savannah nodded. "I do."

"Alright then." Ed said simply. "I believe you- and since you haven't hurt anyone, I'm going to forget I ever met you- for now. But someone knows what you're doing here- and they're not happy about it. I'm nearly certain the West City Ripper is targeting women who've had abortions. They know it's you- I don't know if or when they'll come after you, but... watch your back.".

Dr. Ken looked distressed. "If all the women I tried to help were victims- it's going to lead back to me at some point. I only did half a dozen abortions this past month. He's killed more than that. I'm not the only abortionist in this city, but I like to think I'm one of the better ones due to my career in medicine. It's all going to lead back to me, isn't it? It's going to come crashing down- they'll take me off to jail... my children..."

Ed sighed. "If I can find the killer without having to expose you, no. But if the military finds out, or the killer decides to switch targets... then I'm not sure I can gurantee your safety."

Dr. Ken had gone ghastly pale. "I've ruined everything. If I'm arrested... my children...".

"It might not come to that. I've heard of a doctor who doesn't really exist. Met him once. His name is Tim Marcoh. He may be able to help you find a new start after all this blows over. Assuming you live.".

"Right. I suppose I should thank you for the warning- though really, ignorance was bliss. If I'd never known what a twisted web I'd find myself in, I wouldn't be stressed now. And Edward- I'm not the only abortionist in West City. Though I like to think that my success rate is the best, because of my medical training- there are others. I'm sure not all of the victims were mine.".

"Then spread the word. We don't know who our killer is watching or when. Hopefully no one saw us come in here- is there a back entrance?" Ed looked at the front door worriedly.

Dr. Ken nodded. "You can go out the back window. It lets out into an alley. Turn right and you're back on canal street. I don't care what happens to me- as long as my assets are sold and used to take care of my children.".

"I'll try to warn you before anything happens, if I can." Ed said seriously.

He and Savannah ducked out the window, jogging back towards the street.

They were mostly silent on the walk home.

"Do you think that was right? Not turning him in?" Savannah asked quietly.

Ed shrugged. "I don't know.".

"Do you think what he's doing is right? I mean- we've had women to autopsy from failed abortions before. So he's doing good work, providing them medical care, but... it's illegal." Savannah looked hesitant.

Ed sighed. "Once again, I don't know. I'm just an alchemist- he didn't seem like a bad guy, and he seemed to have honest intentions, so I let him go- for now." Ed said simply.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, though." Savannah looked uncertain.

Ed sighed. "I know. Trust me. I've realized, when you try to play games with life and death, most of the time, you lose. But if the women went there and got an abortion of their own free will, and he provided them good medical care, then in my eyes, this killer is a worse criminal than him right now.".

"But I'm not very hopeful. You're getting sent back to East City tomorrow, and you're the one who's closest to the truth. If you don't tell the military what you've found, this creep is just going to keep killing people. And even if you don't think Dr. Ken is doing a bad thing, if people find out you knew he was doing illegal thing and let it slide, won't you get in trouble? What if they take away your state alchemist's certification?" Savannah was looking more and more worried as they neared her apartment.

Ed sighed- he was beginning to get a headache. "I don't know yet, okay? I really don't know. I'll... I'll figure it out, I guess.".

Savannah sighed. "Okay. I'll be at the morgue at ten tomorrow. See you then.".

"Sounds good.".

They parted ways. He ended up getting back to the hotel room by 9:30, though Mustang had said 10 was his curfew.

He wanted nothing more than to take some aspirin and fall asleep, but Mustang had other plans.

"You might as well pack your suitcase- we're probably going home tomorrow." he reminded Ed.

Ed sighed, flopping onto his bed. "I never unpack my suitcase, Mustang.".

"Oh. I forgot- you are in the field a lot." Mustang admitted.

He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed in himself for not solving this.

I was so close. I don't know what else to do.

Fight.

It was whispered right next to him, and he jolted.

"Get some rest, Fullmetal. Train leaves at ten tomorrow morning.".

"Right." he laid down, but he had a hard time falling asleep.

---

Do you think Dr. Ken is telling the truth about not killing anyone?

Chapter 14: Day 7

The door of their hotel room slammed open at 5:07am the next morning.

Lieutenant Colonel Atkins stumbled into the room, looking a bit like a crazed chihuahua- bulging, bloodshot eyes, trembling periodically. He had papers clutched in his hand.

"I have good news gentlemen!" he waved his papers in the air. "I called Central right before closing and stayed on the phone of six hours, and I got authorization- straight from Central- to dismiss Sergeant Davidson's motion for you to be removed from the case. You're officially still co-investigators with me!"

"What the fuck are you yelling about?" Mustang looked decidedly less put together and poised at 5 in the morning.

"Look- I have papers- you're stuck with me!" Atkins shoved the papers at Mustang's face.

Ed threw a pillow at the man's head. "It's too early!".

"Now we can take the kid to the morgue and stick him in the cold drawer again and he can figure out who the fuck did this!". Atkins was nearly rabid with excitement, and twitching like a crackhead. "Do we have any coffee ready?".

"Oh my god, that's a terrible idea!" Mustang groaned, burying his head under the pillow.

"I brought donuts! We need to investigate things, so I brought you guys donuts! But I forgot to get coffee, because I only have two hands, one for the papers saying you're my friends and one for the donuts, so no coffee... I wish I had more handsssss!". Atkins set down a box of donuts and lifted his hands towards the sky, shaking them like jazzhands.

"Did someone put meth in your coffee? What the fuck Atkins, when's the last time you slept?" Mustang groused, looking annoyed.

"Three days ago! I drank 4 six hour energies so I don't have to sleep for another day though." Atkins was vibrating.

Ed had snatched up the box of donuts he'd brought and dove back under the covers of his bed.

"Atkins- go the fuck to sleep." Mustang threw a pillow at the man's head.

"But I did it! I saved our friendship! You're still on the case!" Atkins was waving the papers around again.

"For the love of god, I heard you the first SEVEN TIMES!" Mustang threw another pillow at Atkins. "Lay down and be quiet until I tell you to get up. That's an order!".

"Okay." Atkins proceeded to turn himself off, faceplanting onto the carpet.

Finally- it was quiet again.

There was a rustling- it was too quiet. Mustang frowned. "Ed- what are you doing?".

He flicked on the bedside lamp.

Ed was wrapped in blankets, attacking the box of donuts. "Donaughtz" Ed said, around a mouthful of pastries.

Mustang sighed. This really threw him off. He'd been looking forward to getting the hell out of this city, but now here they were, stuck on the case again.

"Give me one, at least." Mustang chastised, snatching a donut for himself and eating it in a half asleep daze before he was crawling back under the covers and falling asleep.

---

At eight am, Mustang and Atkins rose as usual.

"Fullmetal." Mustang spoke to the sleeping teen quietly but firmly. "Time to get up.".

"No. 'm sleep." Ed protested, cocooning himself further in his blankets like a blond burrito.

Mustang sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Really, Fullmetal? Don't be childish- its time to get up.".

"Five more minutes. 'm sleep." Ed mumbled, rolling way from Mustang and facing the wall.

Mustang sighed, but Atkins placed a hand on his shoulder. "It actually might be best to let him sleep in. The investigations squad doesn't know you're still on the case. It might be best to break the news to them without him present and have him rejoin us later.".

Mustang paused, considering the idea. "Alright. Fullmetal- listen up."

"Mhhhrrrm".

"I'm letting you sleep in. I'm setting this alarm clock for one hour from now. When it goes off- I expect you to wake up and meet us at the morgue. Understood?".

"Yeesh." the bundle of blankets mumbled, snuffling and squirming before restlling on the bed.

Mustang sighed. "Humor me, then. The alarm clock goes off- what do you do?"

"Morgue.".

"A prodigy as usual." Atkins admitted, watching the exchange with a small smile.

Mustang nodded. "Alright then- we'll see you in an hour.".

The two senior officers exited the hotel room, Mustang trying to ignore Atkins chuckling.

"Something funny, Atkins?".

Atkins shrugged. "Just amusing, I guess. He may be a Major, but I guess all teenagers just want to sleep in now and then.".

---

When Atkins walked into the main office of the taskforce with Mustang beside him, the room fell silent.

Atkins cleared his throat. "So- Central City refused the petition to remove Colonel Mustang and Major Elric from the case.".

Sergeant Davidson and an older, gray-haired investigator, both quickly got up and left the room.

Atkins sighed, watching them go. "Listen- our best chance at solving this is to work together. So if you could bring up your concerns to me and the Colonel right now, that'd be a good start to working as a team.".

A young woman with a brown pixie cut and coffee brown eyes hesitantly raised her hand.

"Yes, Simmons?".

"We... I... think that while Major Elric is allowed at crime scenes, he needs to be supervised at all times. His penchant for disappearing and obliviousness during his... spells... has already derailed the investigation once.".

"That's a fair assessment. Either Mustang or I will be responsible for the kid at any future crime scenes. Anyone else?".

A young investigator with floppy raven hair looked hesitant. "I don't have a problem working with the kid- but we need some help. We've been drowning in paperwork. Mulligan and I are routinely here until after midnight trying to finish paperwork and file reports. We're spread too thin- and if we're supposed to be working as a team, we'd appreciate the help.".

Mustang nodded. "Understood. I'll take first shift this evening helping with reports and filing. And Fullmetal isn't half bad at paperwork either- depending on the state he's in after his activities today, he may accompany me."

"I'll take the second shift helping tomorrow evening." Atkins promised.

The taskforce seemed to visibly perk up at this.

"Anything else?" Atkins asked quietly.

"I want to ask him more about where he found this." One baby-faced investigator with a standard military brush cut held up the evidence bag containing the single shoe Ed had found at the bottom of the canal.

"That can be arranged. You can speak to him later at the morgue." Mustang promised.

The damn seemed to have broken, and with most of their concerns assuaged, the meeting ran a half-hour later than scheduled. The investigations taskforce had devised a new patrol schedule to maximize their manpower at night and daytime and offer the most coverage of West City- there was one man for every ten blocks. The hope was that this increased patrolling presence would alert them to the killer before he struck again.

Even Davidson and the senior investigator who'd stormed out at the announcement that Mustang and Ed were still on the case returned at 10am, listening somewhat aloofly during the subsequent patrol discussion.

The baby-faced investigator, Carlson, rode in the car with them back to the morgue. Which was, to Mustang's dismay, deserted. Sarah and Ivan might've been upstairs retrieving bodies, but Edward had no excuse.

He managed to contain his ire until he was walking back to the hotel.

Seriously- after everything Atkins and I just did to convince the investigations taskforce we're reasonable and professional to work with, you go and blow us off like this?

He unlocked the door to the hotel room intent on letting Ed have it- at least in telling him to step it up and try to appear professional, to keep their tenuous relationship with the investigations squad going- but came face to face with an empty hotel room instead.

He frowned, stepping forward into the room further. "Fullmetal?".

The sheets of the boy's bed had been tossed to the side, the alarm clock shut off- he frowned, placing a hand to the indent in the mattress. It was cold- like the kid had left awhile ago.

He checked the bathroom, pulling the shower curtain aside. A brief wave of relief washed over him at finding it deserted- at least the kid hadn't passed out or had a spell in the shower or something.

But it was quickly replaced with confusion- Ed wasn't at the morgue, he wasn't in the hotel room- if he'd already left, Mustang would've run into him on the walk here. Unless he was taking the long walk around the block, but he'd have no reason to- there were no shops or restaurants or anything of interest on the block- onl a handful more hotels.

He was torn out of his thoughts by the shrill ringing of the hotel room phone.

He crossed the room in a few breif strides, snatching up the phone.

"Fullmetal?"

"Mustang, listen." Atkin's voice cut across the line quickly. "You need to get back here right now-"

"Atkins- is Edward with you? Has he showed up at the morgue?"

Atkins fell silent, the only sound a cacophony of agitated voices in the background. "I thought he was back at the hotel.".

"Yeah, so did I. But he's not here- bed's empty, coat and boots are gone...".

Atkins swore loudly. "Fucking hell. They must've intercepted him on the way to the hospital...".

No. No! His thoughts were starting to race, and his grip on the phone had tightened to a white-knuckle hold.

"What are you talking about? Atkins, what the hell is going on!?" he was trying to rein in his racing thoughts- he sank down on Ed's empty bed, sitting nervously, clutching the phone and trying to will his racing thoughts and heartbeat to slow down.

"You need to get back here right now. Savannah's missing- and I think whoever took her might have grabbed Ed as well.".

---

Theories as to what happened?

Chapter 15: Day 7: Abduction

Fight!

He sat up, holding his hands in front of him on instinct and panting.

He was in the hotel room- there was no one here. Who the hell was he supposed to be fighting?

A moment later a shrill explosion sounded to his left.

"Fuck!"

He punched the alarm clock in a fit of adrenaline, and had to retrieve it and turn it off.

He stood, leaning on the nightstand and catching his breath, looking around.

He sighed, taking a deep breath and checking the whole hotel room over. Closet was empty- door was locked, windows locked.

He didn't know why he was so paranoid.

fight.

The voice was quieter this time, like a whisper, but it was there all the same.

Ed sighed, stepping into the bathroom and splashing water of his face. "Could you be a bit more specific?".

Silence was his only answer. "Right. Well- I'm going to take a shower and go to the morgue. You... keep telling me whatever you need to." he assured the absent spirit.

His shower was more like a two minute scrub- no matter how hot he turned the shower knob, the water was still cold, and the thought that a female spirit was watching him made him on edge enough as it was.

When he stepped out of the shower less than a minute later, though, steam hung heavy in the air and covered the bathroom mirror.

THGIF.

Was scrawled on the mirror in steam.

Ed frowned.

"thgif? That does that mean?"

Backwards.

Ed blinked. "Backwards?" like- like it was written from the other side of the mirror, and he was seeing it backwards...

"Fight. Oh. I get it now." he toweled off. "Maybe you can explain it better when I get to the morgue. I have go go soon- Mustang is gonna be pissed if I'm not there by ten." he pulled on a fresh set of clothes, heading for the door- he held the door open behind him for a second, not wanting to slam it on the face of whoever the invisible woman that was obsessed with fighting people was nearby.

Still, he felt alone and chilled as he walked down the stairs, grabbing a muffin and nibbling on it as he strode alone the sidewalk, his state alchemist's watch in his other hand that was in his pocket as he ate.

A black car pulled up- he took two steps back from the curb, hackles raised, ready for a fight- only for the tinted window to roll down and reveal Sergeant Davidson in the driver's seat.

"Glad I found you- they got some evidence they want you to look at HQ. The meeting is taking longer than expected- the Colonel told me to retrieve you."

"And he sent you?" Ed said, looking displeased.

Davidson sighed. "I don't like it anymore than you do, kid." He growled. "But orders are orders. How about you get in the car and we ignore each other for the rest of the ride to HQ.".

Ed rolled his eyes, stuffing the last few bites of muffin in his mouth and sliding into the passenger seat. "Whatever.".

Fight!

Ed frowned at the voice in his head. What did that even mean? As much as he hated Davidson and wanted to beat his ass, that was what'd gotten him in so much trouble in the first place.

---

It was a seven block walk from Savannah's apartment to the morgue, but she wasn't worried. She always said hello to two men on the corner selling newspapers, and she was always on time for work- if something happened to her, there would be a very small window of time- half an hour, at most- before people realized she was missing.

She still wasn't sure if Edward was doing the right thing about not turning in the abortionist. While the man was giving safe medical care to desperate women, it was still illegal- and the man had attracted a serial killer who hunted down his patients.

Not to mention, with Ed being sent back to East City today, she might be the only one who knew of the abortionist's connection to the case. Which left her with the moral dilemma- should she tell someone, or not?

It could help the case. But it could also get that doctor in trouble. He's got a family, but so do the girls that keep getting murdered... Damn, I wish I could talk to someone about this.

She kicked a stone on the sidewalk, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her gray cardigan.

She wished she could talk to her mom or older sister about it- they'd always helped her sort through her feelings before. But they were out of town visiting her grandmother for three more days, so that was out of the question.

Her brooding was interrupted when a woman with long, copper red hair rushed over to her, eyes wide.

"I need your help." she said quietly, eyes darting around nervously, scanning the street.

She looked vaguely familiar. Judging by her scrubs she was a nurse at the hospital- Savannah recalled seeing her in the cafeteria a few times.

"What's wrong?" her own hackles were raised by the raw fear in the woman's brown eyes.

"I just got off night shift, and a man is following me. Let me walk with you back to the hospital so I can call for a ride. He might not give us trouble if there's two of us."

"Yeah, okay." Savannah kept walking, though she looked around nervously.

"Do you think it's the guy that's been killing all those women?" Savannah asked quietly.

The nurse stiffened, paling. "I don't know.".

"Let's just act calm..."

"There he is!" The nurse pointed to a man with a newspaper in hand who was crossing the street to walk towards them.

The man had thinning hair and was looking down at his newspaper- but Savannah was bodily shoved by the nurse into the alley.

They both landed heavily on some black trash bags- there was a grunt and the sound of old bottles and cans clanking together in the trash bags below them, and white hot pain lit up her upper arm. "Ow- shit!"

Savannah squirmed, but a manicured hand was placed over her mouth. "Don't move. He didn't see us..." the nurse whispered.

And so they laid perfectly still in the trash bags. The footfalls of the man were growing closer, and both women waited with bated breath. The man walked by, still engrossed in his newspaper, without looking over at them. It wasn't until he'd walked by that Savannah exhaled and the nurse removed her hand from Savannah's mouth.

"Come on- we have to get to the hospital. He might circle back. He looks like he's reading that newspaper, but he followed me for blocks...". the nurse was rambling, helping to pull Savannah to her feet.

"I think I landed on glass or something..." Savannah complained, rubbing her arm.

The nurse frowned, looking around with wide-eyes. "I'll clean you up when we get to the hospital clinic- let's get moving." she tugged Savannah's hand, and she stumbled out of the alley and back onto the sidewalk, taking off at a jog with the other woman towards the hospital.

Her ears were ringing, and soon looking over her shoulder to try and see if the man was on their tail again was making her dizzy.

She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, and she slowed down to a walk, trying to catch her breath.

"We need to keep moving." the nurse said, lips pressed together nervously as she scanned the street.

"I need... a minute. My head hurts..." Savannah admitted, leaning against the building.

"What- did you hit your head in the alley or something?" the nurse spoke quickly without looking at her- she was still busy scanning the deserted street.

"I don't... I don't know..." Savannah admitted, trying to stand up straight and take a deep breath. She ended up stumbling like a drunk, and the nurse had to catch her by the elbow to keep her from falling over.

"What the hell is wrong with you- we only ran two blocks!" the nurse chastised her.

"I don't... know..." everything was moving too fast. Black spots were creeping into the edges of her vision- she was hot and nauseas, and when she looked up, panicked, to try and tell the nurse that something was wrong- she saw the woman smiling down at her with blood-red lipstick, looking amused.

"I... what...?".

The nurse frowned, her smile suddenly melting into concern. "Don't worry sweetie- we're going to get you help soon.".

---

Sergeant Davidson was looking at Ed, annoyed, as they drove along, winding their way through the city streets. Ed made a point to not look at the man and instead stare forward- it was actually pretty warm for early spring, and he dangled his right automail arm out the window, fist closed. He was holding onto his state alchemist's watch in the automail palm out of habit, and even though he couldn't feel the breeze on his metal hand, it was a habit he'd developed to keep his hand out the window and get some fresh hair when Havoc was smoking while giving him rides back in Central.

Sergeant Davidson wasn't smoking, though he was looking annoyed.

"Can you roll the window up, kid?".

Ed shrugged lazily. "Why?".

The spring air was nice and crisp- it helped him wake up in the mornings.

"Because it's cold." Davidson groused.

"Tch." Ed scoffed. "It's like, sixty five degrees out. And you're in that ridiculous blue coat. You're crazy.".

"Yeah, well it's spring- there's pollen and bees out there. I don't want it getting in my car. Bees always get in my car.". Atkins complained.

"Once again- strange." Ed said simply, before he was back to annoying the man.

Atkins took his third left turn in a row, and Ed frowned. This ride sure was taking awhile. He was going to give the man shit about getting them there in time- traffic was nearly nonexistent- but he quickly snapped his mouth shut. Because honestly- he didn't even know where HQ was. He probably should've asked Atkins, but all he knew was where the hospital and the morgue was.

"Are we almost there?" they'd been driving- or riding, in his case- for nearly twenty minutes. It was getting awkward.

"Yeah. Almost." Davidson said, shooting him a glance.

He pulled over, and Ed frowned, looking over at the man in confusion.

"What are you doing?".

"That looks kind of suspicious, doesn't it?" Atkins pointed through the windshield. Two women were walking- well, one was walking, the other was shambling, nearly being dragged along by her companion- down the street.

One woman had bright red hair, but the other was bent over awkwardly. Ed frowned- he recognized the walk. Silver hair and a gray cardigan...

"Hey, that's Savannah! Fuck!" He jolted forward, slamming into the dashboard and gripping his flesh bicep that was burning. "What the fuck was that?"

"What happened?" Davidson blinked, looking over at Ed in bewilderment from where he'd been leaning closer to Ed to get a look out the boy's open window.

"My arm fucking stings, what in the fuck..."

Davidson was looking around. "Probably a bee. I told you- they're always in my fucking car-".

"Well then fuck bees." Ed growled, and Atkins was driving them over to the other side of the street and pulling up to the curb as the two women approached.

"Forget about your bee sting for a minute- let's see what's going on here.". Davidson ordered.

The redhaired woman and Savannah were stumbling closer- Ed leaned out his window, looking concerned. "Savannah! Hey- are you alright!?"

Savannah stumbled towards them, being guided by the woman- she dry-heaved on the sidewalk.

Hey face instantly broke into an expression of relief when she saw Ed leaning out of the car. "Ed.".

"What's going on? What happened to you!?" Ed demanded, anxious.

"I found her like this. I was taking her to the hospital." the nurse said simply.

Savannah frowned, looking like she was trying to say something- but Davidson spoke up first. "Both of you ladies get in the backseat- we'll take you with us to the police station.".

Savannah fairly fell into the backseat, the woman getting in after her and closing the door.

Atkins shifted the car, messing with his seatbelt- there was a metallic click before he was driving again, and Ed was too engrossed in trying to talk to Savannah, who was in the backseat, to pay the man any attention.

"Savannah- hey, Savannah, sit up!" Ed shouted, nervous. Savannah was slumped over, and she turned her head so her cheek was on the backseat of the car and she could look at him.

"What happened to you?"

"There was a man following her. I noticed- I found her like this in an alley and he ran off." the red haired nurse- she looked vaguely familiar to him- spoke up.

Savannah frowned, blinking sluggishly.

"Is that true- Savannah, stay awake! I need a yes or a no answer at least!" Ed demanded. His heart was pounding, he'd started to sweat, and his ears were ringing.

"Just say something, please!".

Savannah frowned, looking up at him with unfocused eyes. "She's lying."

Davidson slammed on the breaks of the car, and Ed was flung forward, his face colliding with the dashboard roughly.

It took him a moment to realize what'd happened to him- he peeled himself off the dash, surprised. Normally his reflexes would've kicked in and he'd have caught himself first...

"Wait- what did you say, Savannah!?"

"She's not thinking clearly. She's been drugged and attacked. We need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible." the nurse spoke quickly.

Ed blinked. "Davidson- how far are we from the hospital?" he asked, not liking how unsteady his voice sounded.

"Almost there. Two blocks away." the sergeant assured him. Ed nodded, leaning back in his seat and putting his arm out the window again.

His vision was graying around the edges. He was trying to take deep breaths and ignore the bursts of color happening in front of his eyes.

FIGHT!

fight!

fight!

FIGHT!

A thousand female voices were screaming at him- and it was ironic, because by the time he'd realized what they meant, it was too damn late.

He blinked, swallowing- and opened his hand that was dangling out the window, hoping Davidson didn't notice.

Not that the man was paying much attention to his hand- the man seemed to be eagerly watching his face as he drove along slowly- too slowly, considering the current situation.

The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water- of the icy, fat drops of water in a spring rain. The irrational hatred of Davidson. The scowl the red-haired nurse had given him at the clinic the day he'd been evaluated. The irrational anger- hatred, even- he'd harbored for Davidson since the day he'd first met the man.

The pale hand reaching up from the frigid canal waters, clawing at the cement sidewalk in vain as it tried to grab ahold of Davidson's leg and drag him in.

Fight.

Fight!

fight for us.

"It was you. All along." Ed managed to slur out around the roaring static through his veins. He couldn't feel his legs- could hardly move. His lips were buzzing, now, but he was too sluggish to be alarmed.

Davidson's eyes flashed a moment before he grinned. He could see the redhaired nurse boring holes in him with her glare from the backseat.

"I'm impressed you can figure that out, considering the dose of sedatives you've just had. Daliah- how much longer until he's unconscious?" Davidson asked the nurse in the boy, who pursed her lips.

"He should already be unconscious. She is.".

He was awake by sheer willpower at this point, and he looked in the rearview mirror to see Savannah slumped, unmoving, in the backseat.

"Can we give him more?" Davidson's voice was floating in and out of his mind, interspersed with static.

He didn't get to hear the answer before he was unconscious.

Chapter 16: Captivity: Morning One

Trigger warning- this chapter contains sexual abuse/assaults, nudity, and torture.

He was floating- being lifted by unseen hands, gliding through the air.

His entire world collapsed into rubble and he was freefalling- but a moment later he was collapsed into a heap, a ragdoll of nausea and disorientation on a wooden floor.

Words swirled around him- a male and a female conversing hurriedly.

Dust on the wooden floor had been stirred up by his landing, and he watched the sunlight swirl through the particles, like some sort of antique snow...

"Can't kill them now. We need to send a message..."

"I need to get back. They'll suspect if I'm gone too long. How long will they be unconscious for?"

"A few hours. Help me restrain them, then you can leave.".

He was unable to follow the rest of the conversation over the pounding in his own head- he was hefted up, arms beneath his armpits, and cold metal encircles his flesh and metal wrist.

He looked around dumbly, seeing but not comprehending. So some reason, he couldn't flop back down onto the floor, even though he was exhausted and his body begged to be horizontal again.

"His eyes are open. You said he'd stay under.".

"It's only been in his system for a few minutes- he's going to be back under in no time.".

He wanted to say something. But his tongue was thick and warm and his lips weren't obeying his commends.

Davidson glared down at him for a moment, before he was turning to his the woman and saying something he couldn't comprehend- before he slipped back under again.

---

The next time he awoke, it was to the sound of someone vomiting loudly.

He actually had the strength to lift his head and observe- and he looked over to see Savannah propped up against the wall, hands twisted behind her back, being violently ill all over herself.

She groaned, retching, and fell onto her side, circling into the fetal position.

"..." he tried to say her name, but his mouth was so dry it wasn't cooperating with him.

Instead, he grunted loudly.

She looked up at him, cloudy eyes coming into focus. He could see the tears drippling down her face. "...Ed?".

"..yes..." he hated how hoarse and weak his own voice sounded.

"What... why are we here? Who's doing this?" she wriggled about on the floor, trying to make her way closer to him, but she didn't get very far.

"Inquisitive, aren't we? We're going to answer your questions in due time." the copper haired woman stepped back into the room. She was wearing a simple, pale pink nightgown, and her coppery red hair had been let down into a uncombed length stopping just past her shoulders.

"Y-you're a nurse. You're supposed to... help people..." Savannah looked baffled.

The woman narrowed her eyes, striding over and kicking Savannah in the back. "I said quit asking questions. I'll answer them all later. God, you're fucking pathetic- laying there, covered in tears and vomit. I have no fucking clue how two stupid kids figured out everything when the damn investigations team has been chasing it's own tail for weeks.".

She turned, crossing the room to crouch in front of Ed, placing a red polished index finger beneath his chin and lifting his face up.

"Hm. You're still sedated. I have to admit, for a state alchemist, you didn't put up much of a fight. I was expecting more, the way Leo talked about you. But despite your reputation, you're still a flea. Two metal limbs- you've got a much higher dose of anesthesia coursing through you, with only half as many limbs as most people. I'm surprised you're even awake. You must feel awful." She said with a frown.

Ed blinked- he wasn't sure what to say.

"What you want?" he finally managed to slur.

The woman laughed, letting go of his face and letting his chin dip down to his chest again, neck too rubbery to hold him up. "You have nothing I want, child. Only your silence." there were four knocks at the door in a particular rhythm, and the woman's head snapped to the side, before she was rushing out of the room.

There was the sound of a door opening, a latch being slid back into place, and heavy footsteps.

When the woman came back, she wasn't alone. Davidson was with her, still in uniform, grinning proudly.

"I said I'd go and check a warehouse on the outskirts and see if they were holding him there. They let me go- not even a question. Everyone's frantic- you should see the look on the damn Colonel's face, never seen the man look so strung out. Like he actually cares about the brat." Davidson was saying, striding into the room.

Savannah let out a muffled wail when she saw him, and Davidson frowned, raising his eyebrows at the vomit covered teenager and shooting he copper haired woman a look. "You couldn't have cleaned her up?".

"She just made that mess. And besides- we're going to kill them anyways.".

"But not yet." Davidson said, fists clenching, looking frustrated. He sighed, turning on heel and striding over to Ed. "Whatever- is he awake? I want him awake, I don't even really give a shit about her." he crouched in front of Ed, roughly taking him by the jaw and forcing his head up.

Ed blinked, managing a sloppy scowl at the man.

"Mostly. He's tiny, so he's still woozy. Got a lot of drug in him." the woman commented.

Davidson scoffed. "Well then wake him up, Daliah. I want him to hear what we have to say.".

The woman rolled her eyes and strode out of the room, leaving Davidson to glower down at Ed with a predatory smile.

"How's it going, kid?".

"How do you think?" Ed rasped, giving him his best glare.

Davidson smiled.

Dalilah was back in the room with something- a bucket- and Davidson stepped to the side.

A moment later, he was drenched in frigid water.

It was as though the volume on everything had turned up to the maximum, and he jolted forward. There was a metallic clang- he was handcuffed, metal arm to a radiator bolted into the wall, flesh wrist hanging off a metal loop screwed deep into the wall. His arms were held out on either side of him, so he couldn't clap, and he was sitting on his knees rather uncomfortably, unable to clap or rest forward...

Davidson was laughing at him. Full belly laughter, grinning.

"Did you see the little shit's face?"

Even Daliah was smiling, taking some sadistic pleasure in his discomfort.

He blinked, clearing his throat.

"Who the fuck are you?" he said hoarsely.

The two stopped their look of glee. Davidson's brown eyes had gone dark again.

"Why, Eddy- that's a rude thing to ask. But since I'm a good host, I'll indulge you. There's me- friendly detective Sergeant Leo Davidson- and this is my lovely sister, Daliah Davidson.".

Daliah gave him a smile that would've been warm and friendly if her eyes weren't fucking murderous.

"And as to why you two are here- well, Eddy- you're here because you know too much..".

"There's two of you!?" Savannah looked alarmed from where she was still curled up on the floor. "You guys are siblings and you kill people!?"

"I didn't say you could talk, bitch!" Daliah growled, striding over and placing her bare foot atop Savannah's head.

She pressed down, putting more and more weight on the girl, crushing her cheek into the floor, and Savannah squealed, trying to move away.

"Daliah! Quit being a bitch and focus. We haven't explained it all to them yet. And for the love of god, would you clean her up!? We aren't animals, you're a damn nurse- you don't just let people sit in their own vomit!".

Daliah frowned, but turned and strode out of the room, and Davidson was turning back to Ed, grinning.

"Yeah, Eddy- that's us. We're the West City slasher. It was only meant to be a reeducation movement in the beginning, but things kind of got out of hand. Not that I'm complaining- it's definitely making a statement for the cause." Davidson was looking positively gleeful.

"You kill women who've had abortions." Ed said quietly.

Davidson nodded. "Spot on, kid. You're brilliant, you know that? You're also annoying as shit, but you're too smart for your own good. I didn't want to have to kill you, you know- I did everything I could to get you sent back to East City. But Atkins likes you, and when you got too close to the truth- well, we had to step in before you ruined or operation.".

Davidson was still grinning down at him proudly, and Ed sighed.

"How do you even know? They don't all go to the same abortionist. You..." he frowned, his mind still catching up with what his body was saying "can't watch every house.".

Davidson grinned. "No. But pregnant women just have a habit of coming into the clinic where Daliah works to be seen. And if they're suddenly not pregnant anymore, well- it stands to reason they've murdered it. A good question, though".

Daliah had come back into the room with a bucket of soapy water and was scrubbing the vomit off the floor. Savannah scooted as far away from the woman as she could, but Daliah paid her no mind, focusing on the floor.

"Why?" Ed asked finally. "Religion?"

"WRONG!" Davidson thundered, bursting into laughter. "But a damn good guess, Eddy. No- we do it because we want to. Wiping out selfish whores who murder their children is the right thing to do- they're getting what they deserve- if they have a right to murder their unborn children, then we have a right to take them out of this world as well. Not like they're missed.".

"You didn't answer m question." Ed said quietly.

Davidson's fanatical demeanor dropped, and his expression darkened once again, fists clenching.

"Once again, you are too damn perceptive..." he said, voice edging on dangerous.

"If you're going to kill me, you at least owe me an answer." Ed said simply, staring right back.

Davidson gave him a crooked smirk. "Once again, ballsy, kid. Okay. I'll let you in on it. Most women love their children and take pretty good care of them. But then- there are the women who get overwhelmed- lazy, selfish. They decide they don't want anymore kids- and are even willing to risk leaving behind the ones they have to get an abortion. So they find a back alley abortionist and pay whatever money they have to kill their kid and try go go back to living their pathetic existence." Davidson was looking right through him, now, glaring at some unseen force.

"But sometimes- the abortionist messes up. Abortion is illegal and unregulated, and for good reason. Sometimes the abortionist had dirty tools- dirty instruments. A lot can go wrong. And sometimes, people selfish enough to get abortions will die, and leave their kids to be raised in St. Luke's orphanage for ten fucking years until they can get out and make something of themselves.".

"It's not like we're actually hurting anyone. We're just spotlighting the illegal abortion epidemic." Daliah spoke from where she'd finished cleaning the floor. "And they were asking for it- if they hadn't killed their unborn children, we wouldn't have killed them.".

Savannah was crying softly from where she laid on the floor. "This is crazy. You're both crazy.".

"Nobody even knew those women had had abortions. There wasn't any fetal remains or signs of pregnancy on autopsy..." Ed muttered. "Everyone in the papers just thinks you're killing random people. It's the only reason you haven't been caught yet.".

"Or maybe, it's because we're fucking good at what we do!" Davidson thundered, jumping to his feet.

"You think this is a public service? Some of those women who got abortions had other children- you're just sending more kids to the orphanage!"

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!" Davidson kicked him in the chest- hard.

The toe of the man's boot collided with his ribs, knocking the breath form him, before he was kicking him again, and again...

"Leo! I thought you wanted to keep him alive awhile longer." Daliah protested, and Davidson, breathing heavily, reigned himself back in.

"You're right, you're right...".

Daliah was holding a fucking knife. Why was she holding a knife!?

She crouched down beside Savanna, who was looking at her with wide-eyes.

"What are you doing!?" Ed gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "Leave her alone!"

Savannah tried to shout only to have a rag stuffed in her mouth.

"Don't worry- we're not killing you brats yet." Daliah sounded disinterested, using the knife to slit open Savannah's black t-shirt from collar to end and peeling it off the girl, leaving her in only a black lacy bra.

"I'm just taking her clothes off. She's fucking filthy." A bead of blood appeared from where she'd applied too much pressure, just breaking Savannah's skin.

She said nothing, simply frowning and dragging the knife down again, slicing off Savannah's bra neatly.

Savannah squealed, eyes shut in humiliation as she tried to roll over onto her stomach to hide her breasts- her hands were tightly cuffed behind her back, and Daliah laughed at her discomfort.

"Oh relax- you're pathetic, honestly. But I'm not sure- At the clinic, Edward said he needed STD testing. And you went into that abortionist's house together- did he knock you up, little slut? Did you kill your unborn child with him for your own convince?"

"Shut up. Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this!?" Ed shouted shrilly, as Savannah let out a shuddering sob, eyes still closed.

"Really. So you just brought her with you to get let into the house, then?" Davidson looked mildly interested. "Most of the time, the girls go alone- there was onyl one man who actually had the balls to go in there with his girlfriend- and he fucking paid for her abortion. He paid money. To kill their child. So we killed them both a few days apart. It was easy." Davidson said simply, looking unamused as he inspected his fingernails.

"She was just helping you out. And now she's gonna die for it.".

"No." Ed said, in disbelief.

Davidson chuckled. "Saying that isn't gonna save her, kid.".

"I said no! You clearly get off on torture- do what you want to me! Leave her alone, you bitch!" Ed shouted, voice as he surged forward, feeling the handcuffs strain.

And just like that, Davidson backhanded him so hard he saw stars.

"Shut the hell up, you stupid kid." Davidson said, his voice a dangerous whisper.

Daliah was looking upset from where she was still looming over Savannah, who hadn't stopped crying.

"Why- why are you doing this? What's your endgame?" Ed was grasping at straws here, trying to keep them talking, trying to keep them from torturing them.

"I already told you why. Women who are selfish enough to get an abortion deserve to die." Davidson looked annoyed. "Ad I already told you- were going to kill you both.".

"But why ware you waiting? All your other kills- everyone else, you killed in the street. You ABDUCTED US BOTH- why? Why risk getting caught when you could've killed us both by now and kept killing?".

Davidson laughed. "That' a decent question. I guess it deserves an answer.".

Daliah was raking the knife on the outside of Savannah's forearm as the gagged girl quietly cried- Ed couldn't see what she was doing, but he could see she was drawing blood, though not a lot...

"You see, Ed- you and the Colonel have ben a thorn in my side for a whole week, now. And Atkins- well, he thinks he's the best there is. I want to enjoy this a little. I want to watch Atkins squirm- he's always talking down to me, ordering me around. And he has this unhealthy obsession with you. He holds you in such high regard, though I have no idea why." Davidson's voice had taken on an eerily even tone.

"So I figure- why not make my revenge a little sweeter? Abduct you both- send Atkins into a flurry. And the Colonel, too- that man's annoying- with the both of them giving orders and you doing your paranormal fuckery, the case was actually going somewhere. I can't let that happen. The Colonel is a wreck- going grayer every minute. Atkins is even worried, and the whole investigation team is frantically turning over every stone, looking for you. So how sweet would it be- after all the trouble you've caused us- to keep you both for two days, and have the investigation end with them finding you mutilated bodies in a warehouse. Am I right?" Davidson said with a chuckle, patting his shoulder.

"And the best part is- the truth dies with you, Eddy. The boy who knew too much.".

Daliah had gotten off of Savannah, now, and Davidson stood as well, walking over to examine what she'd done.

He turned Savannah's wrist over to find the word WHORE carved into the skin of her forearm, not deep enough to need stitches, but deep enough to leave ribbons of blood trailing down her forearm.

"Anyways- I've probably still got an hour or so before my absence is noted at work. What do you want to do?" Davidson turned to his sister, who gave him a small smile.

"The oven is on and the scissors are on the counter.".

Davidson smirked. "Alright.".

He ducked out of the small back room, ducking back in a moment later.

He had a rusty pair of scissors in hand, and Ed watched them yank Savannah up by her hair into a sitting position. Savannah had managed to spit out her gag.

Savannah had stopped crying, though she still looked away. Her breasts were exposed to the open air, and Ed wanted to look away to give her respect, but she looked terrified, so he settled on meeting her eyes and trying to look reassuring.

Daliah laughed and trimmed her gray locks as close to her scalp as she could without scalping the girl. Long silver locks fell to the dust floor, and soon she had short hair- a lopsided, uneven hair shorn down to the base of her neck.

"There- it's uneven, just like your boobs. One is bigger than the other." Daliah sneered.

Savannah pressed her lips together, looking up at the red head with hatred. "You may have all the power, but you're still going to die a twisted killer who never loved anyone.".

Daliah slapped her, and would've gone on to beat her, but Davidson had plucked the scissors from his sister's hands nd headed for Ed. "Daliah- relax. She won't be so brave when it's over." he promised.

He knelt in front of Ed, putting the scissors close to his head and undoing his braid.

Oh. Oh. They were going to cut his hair too?

He felt remorse wash over him- he loved his hair long- but looking at Savannah, with her shorn silver locks and the barely contained hatred simmering behind her eyes, he swallowed. He'd bare it. If they were focused on him, they were leaving Savannah alone.

The first few snips he kept his eyes closed for. He could feel locks of his hair falling beneath his black tank top into the collar- somehow, his red coat had disappeared.

He opened his eyes and recoiled when he heard the scissors snipping right next to his ear, flinching away-

"Don't!" Davidson sneered, grabbing him roughly by the opposite ear and holding him still. He clipped Ed's ears with the scissors that time, and he yipped, before he way staying still.

Within two minutes, his own hair was shorn unevenly just like Savannah's. HE looked down at all the golden locks on the dusty wooden floors around him and took a deep breath. It was just hair, after all.

"Get his clothes, would you?" Davidson ordered. "I'll check the oven.".

Daliah was in front of him with her knife, that still had dried blood on the tip, and she delighted in watching Ed's face as she slit his t-shirt down the middle. She pressed too hard, leaving a shallow cut down his chest and abdomen that wept blood, before she was slitting the cloth, tearing it away from his handcuffed arms and leaving his bare torso exposed.

He assumed it'd be over when she was done with her shirt, but he inhaled sharply when he felt the metal of knife dance over his waistband, a few inches below his belly button. It was right near his genitals, and he held his breath, holding incredibly still.

Daliah watched his expression and laughed, smiling. "Not so squirmy now, are we? You move to much and I might make you a girl." she teased happily.

Something in his lower belly squirmed, and he felt filthy, disgusting, gross as she an her hands over his still clothed manhood, slitting his pants down the crotch before she was tearing them off of him as well, leaving him only in his boxers.

He swallowed, closed his eyes, and tried to breath, but everything ws os out of control and he hated it, hated it, hated it as she continued to stared it him, trailing his blod red fingernails over his bare chest and continuing to slide them lower and lower...

"Stop." his voice as barely above a whisper.

"Oh?" Daliah stopped her fingers from where they were caressing his lower abdomen, looking surprised. She looked down, inspecting his boxers and frowning. "What, not even a little excited for me?" she sounded disappointed.

"You took her to the abortion house. She'd go to your hotel at night. You can fuck her, but you can't let me have any fun?".

She turned, looking at Savannah who was watching everything in muted horror. "I do have all the power, here, bitch." Daliah said with a smile. "And I don't need to be loved by anyone. Because I will take what I want.".

"Stop it! That's not what I meant!" Savannah shouted, looking horrified.

Ed went rigid- she literally had him by his manhood now, squeezing him in her hands over his clothes, and he forced his eyes to close. He didn't want this, didn't want this, didn't want this!

"Hey Daliah, the iron's ready. Oh- are you tow having a moment?" Davidson strode into the room, holding a red-hot iron, looking at the scene before him with a bit of surprise.

"Just reminding everyone who's in charge here, Leo." Daliah purred. She gave Ed's manhood one last squeeze through his boxers before walking away, and Ed hunched over as far as his shackles would allow- he pulled his knees to his chest instead of kneeling, trying to protect himself.

Daliah smiled at him i a sickening way, taking the hot metal clothes iron form her brother by the handle and smiling, stepping towards Savannah. "Hold her down. I want her breasts.".

Savannah tried to roll away. And Ed shouted at them, but it did no good.

Davidson had her pinned, squirming and kicking, and Daliah sat on the girl's legs, holding the iron happily.

"What do you think, Leo?" she asked her brother, sounding like a child in a candy shop unsure what type of candy to decide on. "The bigger breast, or the smaller one? She's already lopsided.".

Ed wasn't even sure he was telling the truth- he'd promised himself not to look at her like that, not to humiliate her anymore than she already was.

"They're both nice. Why burn good breasts? Go for the stomach- that's what we did with all the others." Davidson said, eyes going a bit soft as he looked at her exposed breasts.

"I guess..." Daliah looked a bit disappointed at the notion, and moved forward.

Savannah was still squirming and fighting, and Ed yelled.

"Let her go! I thought you guys wanted to torture me! I thought you wanted to hurt me!".

They pressed the iron into her exposed lower belly, and Savannah would've screamed, but Davidson had stuffed his hand over her mouth to muffle the cries.

Suddenly, Ed forgot about his own exposedness and the danger he was in, and started screaming.

"You fucking bastard! You fucking cunt! I swear to god when I get out of here I'm going to kill you both!" he'd forgotten a reason, all sense. He pulled at his chains, and Davidson stopped holding Savannah down, while Daliah whirled, still holding the hot iron and laughing as her red hair swished behind her.

"Oh thank god- he has fight in him. He'll be fun to break." she said simply, crossing the room.

Davidson pulled his legs away from where they'd been pulled against his chest- his arms were still held out a his side by his handcuffs, but he swore and hissed and kicked and cursed the whole time.

His voice went up an octave when they pressed the scalding metal to his belly, but even then, he still kicked and cursed, even as he smelled his own flesh burning.

"You're both filthy fucking perverts and murders, and you're gonna burn in hell!" he managed to choke out, before Davidson was stuffing a rag in his mouth. The man had to let go out his legs in order to do that, though, and he kicked out with his automail foot, managing to knock Dahlia back.

Davidson swore at him, and Ed jabbed his middle finger of his shackled hand at them both as he worked his jaw, trying to sit out the rag and kicking again.

He was grabbed by the hair and the hot iron was held to the crotch of his flesh shoulder- he felt the flesh blistering underneath it, and he kept thrashing and wriggling anyways.

The iron had cooled significantly by the time the struggle was over, and Dahlia laughed, looking amused. "He's going to be fun to break.".

Davidson nodded with a small smile, uniform a bit rumpled from the struggle of holding hi down. "Yes- he will. Put them back to sleep. We're going to have a lot more fun when I get home from work tonight.".

They both got up and left the room- Ed could hear them moving about in what he assumed was the kitchen, the next room over.

He looked around the dim room, trying to get a lay of his surroundings. The room was ten by twenty feet. There was a single window on the far wall with gauzy white curtains- the large pane of glass was divided into four small panes with wood, and even if he could get up, they wouldn't be able to climb out of it.

But what was even more alarming was the array of medical equipment stuffed in the back corner. There was a large oxygen tank and mask, a metal table, black cases of instruments, and restraints...

And there was a faded, dusty green and yellow couch pushed against the far wall.

He was still handcuffed to the radiator and the wall.

Savannah still had her hands cuffed behind her back, but was struggling to make her ay over to him on her knees.

"Are you alright?" she asked hoarsely.

He nodded- though his throat was raw from screaming into his gag.

"Are they really going to kill us?".

Ed sighed, struggling to work his jaw and spit out the gag.

The colonel will come for us. He's gonna find us. he thought to himself.

But even as the thought came to his mind, he could feel the uncertainty rising up in him. These guys are psychotic. What if he doesn't figure it out in time?

Savannah rested her head on the floor nearby him. He didn't have time to say anything before they were back in the room, retying his gag tighter and gagging Savannah as well, and the needle was sliding into his arm, leaving him to slip into oblivion.

Chapter 17

TRIGGER WARNING- THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE AND SEXUAL ASSULT. THIS CHAPTER DOESN'T CONTAIN RAPE OR FORCIBLE PENETRATION, BUT SEXUAL TOUGHING OVER THE CLOTHES AND KISSING/BITING WITHOUT CONSENT TAKES PLACE.

Everything was moving at an incredible rate, while not actually moving at all.

Or at least, that was what it felt like to Roy Mustang.

He'd raced back to the morgue to find it a solid mass of blue soldiers- both Sarah and Ivan were sitting in chairs- Ivan looked drawn and distraught, while Sarah's face was red from crying.

Atkins was giving orders to the flurry of men around him- they scrambled about like ants in a nest, independent but coordinated, going out to scout the streets and gather any important information they could.

"Mustang." Atkins looked up at him with a bit of worry as he swept into the room.

"What do we know?" Mustang didn't bother to mince words.

"Ed has been gone for approximately two hours. If we assume he left the hotel a little after nine like you ordered. Savannah's been gone for the same amount of time.".

Roy frowned, turning to look at Sarah and Ivan. "When we got to the more at ten thirty, you two were both gone. Where were you?".

"We were looking for Savannah. She's never late, she always calls- her family was out of town. Ivan drove me to her apartment to see if she was sick or something. Door was locked, I used a spare key, but nobody was there..." Sarah looked distraught.

"Is there anyone who can confirm that besides each other?" Mustang asked calmly.

"There was a newspaper stand across the street from her apartment complex. They'll probably remember seeing my car.". Ivan said simply, deadpan.

Atkins nodded, and two junior investigators were rushing out to confirm the story.

Before they could share theories, a baby faced man who couldn't have been twenty came sprinting into the room, red-faced.

"Sir! I found something, Sir!" he bent over, hands on his knees, to carefully hand Atkins a forensic evidence bag.

Inside was two broken halves of a syringe.

"I found it at the mouth of an alley a few blocks from here." the man said excitedly.

"It could be any druggies syringe." someone speculated, looking doubtful.

"But the fact that that particular druggie left it in an alley the same time Ed and Savannah were taken? And the fact that nobody saw signs of a struggle? The only way they could take Fullmetal quietly would be if he was drugged." Mustang said, feeling her heart sink into his stomach.

"There's a lot of injectable drugs it could be." Sarah spoke up. "You should have a tech run an analysis on the residue and see if they can determine what kind of sedative it is. If it even is a sedative.".

"Why are you even helping us?" the baby faced investigator frowned. "You have the medical knowledge to drug someone unconcious. Your alibis haven't been confirmed yet.".

Sarah grit her teeth. "I've worked with Savannah in this hospital since she was sixteen. I would NEVER hurt her! I may be hard on the kid sometimes, but that's just because she has a lot of potential! She could even be a medical examiner someday!".

Sarah continued her rebuttal, and a red hashtag started to pulse on her temple. "Plus- have you ever seen a pregnant lady kill someone!? Because if you keep saying dumb stuff like that, you will! I haven't seen my own feet in eight weeks and I pee every time I sneeze- you won't see me dragging people into alleys!".

"She has a point. We assume they're innocent until their alibi is unconfirmed. But... we can't let you touch any evidence until your alibi IS, in fact, confirmed." Atkins acquiesced.

Sarah sighed, nodding. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you need to do. Just focus on FINDING her! Finding both of them. Someone had to have seen what happened...".

"Sir- I know an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town that may be a place they're hiding out in. Permission to scout it?" Davidson asked incredulously.

"Granted. Report back to me as soon as possible.". Atkins waved his hand dismissively, just as a gaggle of investigators were streaming into the room.

"We've assembled a variety of people around the area who were present and willing to submit to questioning. We managed to take over one of the medical conference rooms, if you'll come right this way...".

As they were being led down the hall, a shout from the opposite direction made them fall short.

"Hey- Mustang!" A blond investigator who couldn't have been over twenty five rushed up, face flushed.

"I got a guy you need to talk to!".

"Tell him to get in line with the rest of the interviewees, Johnson." Atkins looked unamused.

"No- you don't understand, Sir. He gave me this!". The investigator held up a silver state alchemists pocket watch.

Roy's eyes widened.

Johnson was saying something to him, but the man's words were drowned out by the jingling of the metal chain as the familiar instrument was dropped into his gloved hand.

You dropped your watch. You never drop your watch. You're careless, but you never, not once since I gave this to you, lost it. Ever. Is this a sign? Was there a struggle?

"Mustang? Hey, Mustang- is it the real deal?" Atkins snapped his fingers in front of Mustangs face, breaking him from his trance.

"We can't get it open. It's locked from the inside." the young investigator said simply.

Mustang closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. "It's alchemically sealed." he ran his fingers over a few of the scratches on the casing from a few too many meeting with pavement in scuffles.

"It's his.".

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves and tucking it into his pocket. It was alright- Fullmetal would be alright, and he'd give his watch back to him soon.

"Let me talk to whoever found this.".

"He's right where I left him. A real old man, can't walk fast and uses a cane. He thought I was a police man and tried to turn in the watch for the lost and found. I doubt he saw anything, but he can tell you where he found it...".

The old man had unruly white hair that seemed to stick out at every angle. He had a weathered wooden cane and thick rimmed glasses, and he looked surprised to see the gaggle of military men around him.

"You found this watch?" Mustang asked, voice taught with hope.

The old man nodded, working his jaws and wetting his lips. "I did. I was on my morning walk and I found it aways from here.".

"I need to know exactly where you found it.".

The old man's stormy gray eyebrows knit themselves together, but he nodded.

"I'll show you. But it's a ways.". The man shakily got to his feet. The next half hour went both agonizingly slow and fast, as they ambled seven blocks to the east.

The old man was incredibly slow, but also steady, and like a tortoise he plodded on, his spectacled gaze always scouring the sidewalk ahead of him.

They crossed the street three times, until finally, the man stopped, ambling to the curb and pointing to the ground with his trembling cane.

"Was right there. In the gutter- maybe some poor fellow dropped it." the old man said, not realizing how right he was.

"It's quite a fine watch. I hope the fella gets it back, whoever it was.".

Roy's glove clenched around the familiar metal- the proud symbol of the first and only state alchemist under his command.

"He'll get it back. I'll make sure of it.".

The old man nodded, leaning on his cane. He answered some questions, but otherwise was cleared.

Roy blinked, sitting down on the curb and looking at the street. It was a busy street- but there was no crosswalk here. Ed wouldn't have been accosted on the curb and dropped it in the gutter without someone seeing. But to have it here so carelessly, especially when the watch was the ONE THING Ed was so diligent about keeping on him, led him to only one conclusion...

You're leaving me a trail.

Edward- sedated, incapacitated, helpless- wasn't completely helpless. Not if he had enough wits about him to leave a clue this deliberately.

But they were over seven blocks to the east from the hospital- too far for someone drugged to walk in a quick amount of time. And the watch had been found in the street gutter, if the old man was reliable. Not on the sidewalk.

"You brilliant little flea. Hang in there- we'll find you." Mustang promised himself, rising to his feet and walking over to the huddle of investigators discussing thing to themselves.

"This was deliberate. Whoever abducted them had him in a car and was headed East.".

---

He was drawn to the land of the living by voices. Female voices, conversing over the blessed silence that's held him hostage.

He blinked his blurry vision clear, trying to wipe at the drool at the corner of his mouth only to be unable to, clinking metal his only reply.

He blinked, looking over to see the metal handcuff married to his flesh wrist and a large steel hoop screwed deep into the wall.

There was a prolonged ache in his body as a result of being unable to sit down or lay flat, simply being held up by his wrists awkwardly when he was too unconcious to kneel.

"This isn't a solution to your problems.". he knew that voice. It was Savannah.

"Like you're in a position to talk." a condescending voice answered back.

"Yeah- I may be handcuffed right now. But someday- you're going to be in the handcuffs. And you're going to wish you listened to me." Savannah was sitting up, naked save for her black dress pants hands cuffed behind her back.

A bruise was blossoming by her right eye, a nasty grape purple over her otherwise light complexion.

"Your mom died when you were kids from a botched abortion. You and your brother got put in an orphanage for years. That sucks- and you must have suffered a lot." Savannah was pretty articulate, considering the situation they were in.

"But- this ISN'T a solution. The best option for you is to turn yourself in." Savannah said simply.

"You sound so intelligent when you speak, but you're so fucking stupid!" Daliah sneered, blood red fingernails clenched into fists so tightly she was nearly drawing blood.

"You have no idea what my brother and I went through in that orphanage! You act so educated, so well spoken- but you're the fly in our web. You're the prey. You stay alive until we decide you don't anymore. End of story. Shut up before I gag you again.". Daliah looked away, expression salty.

"Yeah. You're right. I'm totally helpless right now." Savannah admitted. "You can gag me. You may kill me later. But this situation- this whole scenario- only ends one way. You think it stops when you gag me quiet? You think it stops when you shoot me dead? You're wrong. There are people out there looking for me. I KNOW there's dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers looking for Ed and I right now. And you can torture us. You can kill us. But those soldiers won't stop when they find what's left. They won't forget what you did to us. They won't stop until they find out who you are and are set before the firing squad.".

"You're wrong. They won't find us." Daliah gave her a shifting glance before pulling her eyes away, expression dark.

"They will. If not when I'm alive, then once I'm dead. The investigation will not stop. And if you kill us- especially Edward- East City will send their best soldier to rain hell down on you and flush you out like rats from a sinking ship...".

"So your best option is to let us go." Savannah finished simply.

"Your blind faith is going to get you nowhere." Daliah said, disgusted.

"You're the pathetic one.".

Both women looked up at the new voice in their conversation- Ed pulled himself so he was kneeling as straight as possible in his awkwardly shackled position.

"So your mother died and you and your brother were in an orphanage. So what? A lot of people are orphans. A lot of people have it worse than you. If you don't like your reality, you GET UP AND CHANGE IT. If your past is terrible, don't let it define you." he cleared his throat, struggling to keep his parched voice from cracking.

"You could actually be helping people- volunteer as a foster parent or something, so kids don't have to go the the orphanage. But you're just a mirror image of your mother- you doing what you think is right is just making more orphans and spreading more pain.".

"Shut up." Daliah hissed.

"What's the matter? Does the truth hurt?" Ed teased, his own aches and pains- the shallow cut on his torso, really nothing more than a scrape, and the iron shaped burns that blistered on the crotch of his shoulder and abdomen- throbbing in time- seemed to melt away.

"I can tell you the names of every woman you killed. I saw their stories- felt their pain. They trusted you. You were supposed to help them, they knew you. And you stabbed them in the back.".

"They deserved what they got! Abortion ruined my life! It took my mother and destroyed my childhood!".

"You killed just as many mother's and destroyed just as many childhoods. None of those women were going to die until you killed them."

"They got what they deserved! They're atoning for their sins- if no one gets punished, then what's the point of paying attention to right and wrong!? If we don't pay for our sins, the world goes to hell!" Daliah's brown eyes flashed. She truly believed what she was saying.

Ed sighed. "I'd say hell isn't very different from where we are right now, actually.".

"Shut up!" Daliah looked frustrated and close to tears- she eyed a metal table populated with syringes of something and smiled, grabbing one and walking towards him.

"You don't know what I've been giving you, do you? If you have too much of it, you stop breathing." she had that stupid little smirk on her face, like she was telling him that the weather outside was nice today.

Ed squirmed against his bonds, suddenly anxious.

"I thought you weren't going to kill us for two days. We haven't even been missing for twenty four hours yet!".

"But you pissed me off. Besides- that's the fun part. I don't know if it will actually kill you or if you'll survive. Sedatives cause respiratory depression- either you suffocate from hypoventilation or you don't. It's like our own little game of russian roulette.". Daliah admitted happily.

"So- which one of you wants to take it?".

Before either of them had a chance to answer, she whirled, plunging the syringe into Savannah's thigh and jamming down the plunger.

Savannah jolted, and Daliah had yanked the syringe back out, smiling sickeningly.

"You've got two minutes of conciousness left, tops. I gave you more than the recommended dose. Whether the respiratory depression kills you or not isn't my problem. You should've shut the hell up when I told you to." Daliah hissed.

Savannah's eyes were already growing glassy, her breathing slowing down and becoming deeper.

"So now we wait and see- either you get a nice nap or you die. Remember- try to keep breathing." Daliah said happily.

"Savannah! Say awake! Keep your chin up, dammit, keep breathing!" Ed was pawing at his shackles, but there was nothing- no give. His head was still fuzzy from his own dose of sedatives, and he watched in horror as Savannah fell onto her side with a dull thump of her body hitting the wooden floorboards.

"No. Please, please no. Stay awake, come on!".

"She couldn't stay awake if she wanted to, kid. The only question now is whether she lives or dies through it. And either way- that's not your problem.".

He was crying, now, tears were streaming down his face. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What did you do, what did you give her!?".

"It doesn't. Matter. She decides if she wants to live or die right now. If she's strong enough, she lives. If not, she dies. Now keep your fucking voice down.". Daliah ordered.

Daliah was kneeling in front of him, now, trailing her fingers down his face.

"You shouldn't have stuck your nose where it didn't belong, little man.".

His spine went rigid, and he forgot how to breathe for a moment. HE knew it was impossible, but the drugs and the fear was getting to him- did she know? How had she known his mother's childhood nickname for him? Did she know about the human transmutation? Did she know about everything?

He forced himself back to the present, forced himself to cane his neck and look over her shoulder, not at her face, to Savannah's still form lying on the ground. She wasn't moving, but he strained his eyes, heart hammering in his chest, trying to see- was she still breathing?

"You think it's all fun and games- play with a girl, get her an abortion, move onto the next one. I'm gonna fuck you up so bad you never want to look t a woman again.".

And then her tongue was in his ear. He heard each and every slimely movement it made in detail, and he tried to pull away, but he was backed into the corner of the damn room and shackled to the wall.

She bit his fucking neck and he yelped- was she going to tear his throat out right here and now with her teeth? She might've already killed Savannah, he wasnt able to pay attention to her with Daliah all over him, and she bit again, harder this time...

He couldn't say a damn word. He was frozen in fear and shame and shock and he was helpless, shackled to the wall like a butterfly pinned to a board in a collection...

He closed his eyes and cried.

Daliah scratched his chest with her blood red fingers- she went lower and lower, grabbing him over his clothes and laughing when he whimpered and tried to kick her away.

At some point he was begging, pride all but forgotten. "Please stop. Please. I don't want this. Please..."

And Daliah just looked up at him and laughed, flicking her tongue over his inner thigh. She hadn't taken his boxers off, but she made him feel fuckin filthy all the same, and he hated it, hated it, hated it all...

I don't want this I can't handle this stop stop STOP!

And then someone took hold of his shackled hand and held it.

It's okay. the voice was light and airy, and the hand in his own grasp was ice cold.

No it's not. She's all over me and I don't want this! I can't do this- I don't even know if Savannah is alive!

Daliah had peeled hiked his boxers up towards his groin, exposing more of his inner thigh. She bit him hard enough to draw blood, and he cried out- tears were still streaming down his face.

The cold hand gave his shacked hand a squeeze.

It's not okay. You're right. the voice was trembling, sounding close to tears. Close your eyes and go somewhere else. She'll get tired of you eventually. It will stop.

Daliah's hand was on his clothed manhood squeezing, and he let out a breathless sob.

Cold, invisible fingers were on his cheeks, brushing his tears away.

You're strong. I'm sorry we couldn't warn you enough. Make her pay for this. For all of it. For what she did.

This voice was also a woman's- it was quiet but airy, and he latched onto it as it spoke to him, desperate to hear anything but Daliah's giggles and laughter as she kept biting his inner thighs and stroking him over his clothes.

How the hell am I gonna save anyone when I can't even save myself? he thought desperately.

You'll breathe. You'll survive. And you'll make them pay later. But right now- just survive.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He could do this. He could do this. He forced himself to take steady breaths- heaving, shaking trembling breaths as he fought the urge to go to tears again- and to be still.

Daliah seemed disappointed he'd stopped crying, squeezing his manhood again- this time pinching with her fingernails.

"What's the matter, lover boy? Don't enjoy it when you aren't in control?".

Ed said nothing, letting his eyes fall closed and focusing only on his breathing. The cold hand was still holding his own, and he squeezed it tightly.

"You're no fun." Daliah pouted, running her hands over his chest one last time before she was grabbing his cloth gag, retrying it so tight he couldn;t even hut his mouth or make a sound.

"I'll play with you more later. Breaking you is going to be exhausting.". Daliah stood- he heard her retreating footsteps as she left the room, though he counted to ne hundred before he dared open his eyes.

He was still handcuffed the the wall, now tightly gagged.

Savannah was still lying slumped on the ground, facing away from him- he could see the incredibly slow but steady rise and fall of his chest.

What now? dear god, his mind was in shambles, his pride was in shambles, he was a mess. He felt so fucking violated, and the urge to break down crying again came on strong, tears welling up in the back of his throat.

It's okay. Close your eyes and rest. there was a cold hand on his shoulder, now, and he did the best he could to fall into a restless doze.

What did you guys think? Comments make me write faster!

Chapter 18: Near Rescue

It was... afternoon? He didn't know. He hadn't taken lunch.

Sarah and Ivans alibi had come back as good, and the heavily pregnant mortician waddled over to where he sat at the table, plopping his third cup of coffee in front of him.

He nodded his thanks, but otherwise, he didn't say anything to acknowledge her. He was too busy reading over the transcripts of the interviews of everyone within a five block radius of the hospital this morning. A little under eighty people.

He fidgeted- he still had Ed's state alchemist watch in his gloved hands.

Everyone had converged on the hospital as a makeshift headquarters- aside from seriously ill and emergency room patients, everyone was checking in and out when they left the area. A variety of other investigators were spread out in the hospital cafeteria, doing more interviews and reading a through, combing for anything- just like he was doing.

Atkins had reported back from the warehouse without anything significant to report. They had a dozen men on beat patrol, fanning out around where Ed's watch had been found. But everything had gone cold.

And then two young nurses were stepping into the room, looking hesitant.

"Are you guys the investigators?" one asked nervously. She had platinum blonde hair, and she would've been cute.

"One of the nurses who was supposed to be working with us in the clinic did a no call no show today. It's not like her. It might be nothing, and we didn't want to waste you time, but we heard about the missing kids and we were afraid she might've been taken too..." her companion, a brunette, spoke up.

Roy and Atkins both stood, striding over to the women. "It could be nothing to be alarmed about. But given everything that's been going on-" he exchanged a glance with Mustang- "It'd be prudent for us to check it out. Do you have her name and address?".

"Yes, of course. Her name is Daliah Davidson and here's her address. I really hope she's okay. She always shows up to work-"

There was a clattering, and everyone looked behind them at the commotion to see Sergeant Davidson on his feet, looking pale. "That's my sister!".

"You have a sister that works here?" Atkins looked surprised.

"Yes, I do! She's missing!? We talk on the phone every night!" Davidson was looking absolutely frazzled.

"Take it easy. We don't know she's missing, only that she didn't show up to work. Lets all go to her address and do a welfare check." Atkins said seriously.

Mustang said nothing, though his heart was beating faster in his chest as they got closer to the address. Sergeant Davidson was driven to near distraction, alternating between resting his head in his hands and twitching nervously in the backseat.

When they got to the hotel, Davidson bounded up the steps and to the door of the basement apartment, pounding on the door anxiously.

Silence was his only reply.

"Welfare check! This is the military." Atkins called.

"I have a spare key to her apartment at my place, I can go get it if I have to..." Davidson was ringing his hands.

And then the door swung open, revealing a red-haired woman with shoulder length hair in a pale pink satin nightgown answering the door. She looked unkempt, like she'd just woken up.

"Daliah!"

"Leo?" the woman looked at the Sergeant, surprised.

Davidson pulled her into a hug. "You didn't show up to work. With two abductions around the hospital, I thought they got you too...".

"Why didn't you show up to work today?" Mustang asked quietly.

The apartment was kind of run down- not ratty, but definitely not the most updated place.

"I wasn't feeling well. I took some migraine medication and went to bed, I just woke up when you knocked on the door. I'm sorry to worry everyone." Daliah was wringing her own hands nervously, biting her lip.

"It's fine. We're glad you're alright." Mustang could see a sparse wood paneled kitchen behind her.

"Have you seen anything suspicious at the hospital? Anyone following you these past few days?" Atkins quizzed.

Daliah shook her head, before she hesitated.

"Anything may be important." Atkins reassured her.

"There's a man by a newspaper stand that follows me for two blocks sometimes. I just assumed it's on his way, but I don't know...".

Atkins quickly took down the location of the newspaper stand, nodding.

"Mind if we take a look around you apartment? We can't be too careful, especially if this man was following you as well.". Mustang said simply.

Daliah blinked her coffee brown eyes, placing her hand to her lips and looking hesitant. "I don't know. Strange men looking around my apartment?" she actually looked fearful at the idea.

"What if I take a look? Just see everything's in order- no windows or doors unlocked. It's not a strange man if it's your older brother, right? I helped you move in, after all." Davidson said with a winning smile.

Daliah nodded, looking a little less apprehensive at the idea. "Alright. If it's just a quick look. The place is such a mess, I'm embarrassed"

Davidson ducked past her while Atkins continued to quiz her on the man's appearance.

---

First he thought it was just a cruel dream. A trick of the mind.

But the frantic pounding on the door was only two rooms over nearby, and he was only half-conscious and glazed in his state of mind.

It was probably just a maintenance man. He could hear Daliah and Davidson talking, and for a moment he assumed it was just them planning more twisted torture, but then a familiar voice, muffled though it was, broke through the haze.

"Mind if we take a look around you apartment? We can't be too careful, especially if this man was following you as well.".

Mustang's voice? Mustang was here!?

He raised his head, screaming for all he was worth into his gag. It came out as though he was muffled into a pillow.

And then Davidson was ducking into the back room, giving Ed a murderous smile that promised pain if he said a word.

He looked at Ed, gazing over to see Savannah still slumped, unmoving on the floor. Ed's heart started to race. Was she even still alive!? They needed help!

"Don't try anything stupid." Davidson whispered, before he was speaking loudly again.

"Nothing out of order. Just a lot of laundry that needs to be done, sis!"

Davidson turned, about to leave the room.

No. No no no! Mustang was here! He was screaming feverishly against his gag, but the man couldn't hear him.

He lashed out blindly with his automail leg, screaming for all he was worth into his gag as he clawed at the wall.

The metal on metal clanged loudly.

Davidson punched him in the face, and he saw stars and then nothing.

---

Davidson was perusing the apartment, narrating as he went.

"Nothing out of order. Just a lot of laundry that needs to be done, sis!"

Clang!

"Oh shit!" Davidson stumbled into the room a moment later, looking off balance. "I forgot you got a cat! And that he hates me!" Davidson said with a laugh. "The little shit knocked over the laundry and ran into the radiator. Geez- I'd hate to be a burglar with an attack cat like that." Davidson chuckled, looking relaxed.

"All the doors and windows are locked, nothing is out of place here. I'm glad you guys didn't go back there- that cat HATES men.".

"Right. We'll send someone around to check in on you later to make sure you're safe." Atkins said, and they were both leaving.

"Stop at the newspaper vendor on the way back to the hospital. I want to talk to him about the man she said follows her. He might've seen something." Mustang said seriously. But he had a feeling that they were just going to keep running into dead ends.

---

"Wake up. Wake up, you insolent brat!" Daliah was kicking him in the ribs.

He blinked- his eyes felt sandy, and he tasted copper. His nose was bleeding? Daliah tore off his gag.

"I know that clang was you. You thought you'd play smart and get Mustang to find you." Daliah was hissing venomously. She grabbed him by his unevenly chopped short locks of blond hair, pulling his head up. "Well I have news for you, kid. He's gone. He didn't think twice about us. And you're stuck with us now."

"You kicked the radiator with your damn automail, huh?" Daliah went into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a screwdriver, brown eyes furious. "You lost your automail privilege, brat!"

"Mustang doesn't care about you. The investigations team doesn't care about you. Nobody is going to find you until you're dead." She was kneeling down, now, and she looked at the shining dusty metal that was far to exquisite and complex for her to begin to understand.

She managed to undo three screws on the chrome plating, but that wasn't going to remove the limb.

"Don't you think you might have to move us soon? I'm going to be harder to move with one leg. The investigators are already onto you- you might as well be ready to bail.". She'd torn off his gag at some point.

That was the first coherent thought he'd managed to string together in... minutes? Hours? He had no idea.

And then there was a burning pain in his hand- he screamed.

He looked down- she'd stabbed him through the back of the hand with her screwdriver in frustration, and it was currently buried up to the hilt in the back of his hand, the flathead metal tip penetrating through his palm and sticking out six inches.

"Fucking useless kid." Daliah was muttering, slamming around syringes and tools on her metal tray angrily.

A moment later, a needle was sliding into his arm and ice water was flooding his veins.

He looked over to see Savannah's slumped form on the ground- was she even still alive? His brain was turning off, his hand was on fire, he couldn't tell...

Daliah had taken him by the chin, forcing him to look at her from where she was inches away from his face.

"Mustang isn't coming for you." her acidic words swam through his mind.

He didn't want to be awake anymore. He was too tired to cry. And so he gave in, and let the blackness pull him under.

---

He spent three hours grilling the newspaper stand owner. The man either knew nothing or Daliah was mistaken. Atkins went back to the morgue with Davidson, but on hour three of his grilling, Atkins pulled up in his car.

"Mustang. Why don't you come back to the morgue."

The newspaper stand owner knew nothing, but he wasn't being obstinate- he'd even been gracious enough to shut down his stand, and Mustang thanked the man and fell into the passenger seat of the car.

"Do you have anything?" Mustang asked seriously.

Atkins shook his head. "Nothing. Some people reported seeing a black car driving slowly- but there's so many black cars.".

"I feel like we're going in the wrong direction. I want you to focus most of the patrol men around Atkin's sister's apartment. I feel like that was our last good lead."

"Okay. I'll reorganize our forces. It's nearly six, you know. Going to be getting dark soon. You want dinner?". Atkins asked.

Mustang shrugged. "I'll eat whatever you put in front of me. I'm not planning on going back to the hotel tonight.".

"Me neither." Atkins frowned, shooting Mustang a glance. "I'm worried. Like, really worried. It's not usual- Ed's loud. For him to be quite this long- it makes me worry that something horrible has happened to him.".

"Don't speculate." Mustang growled.

"I'm not. But I'm worried-"

"You think I'm not!?" Mustang slammed both hands on the dashboard, letting his temper slip. "I can't let what ifs in right now, or I'll never be able to keep moving. We'll find him- we'll find both of them- alive. I'll kill whoever took him. It's that simple.".

"Alright then. Glad to know I'm not the only one who's worried." Atkins said seriously. "I'll increase patrols like you wanted.".

---

He was laying on the ground in the cemetery.

The grass was damp, and the sky was dark.

There were hands- warm hands- that reached down and caressed his face, every now and then. The voices swirled around them, though they were mostly out of reach.

"Edward. Edward- hey, wake up." a voice was pulling at him, and he opened his eyes.

He was laying in someone's lap.

A woman with curly brown hair. He'd seen her before, but her face was pale. She smiled.

He actually felt... safe. Warm. Not disgusting. He sat up slowly. He was surrounded by women. There was one man- young, clean cut, who clapped him on the back.

"Way to hang in there, kid. I know- these people are sick. But we're all proud of you for hanging in there.".

He knew each and every woman standing around him, and the man. He'd seen all their faces before in the crime scene photos, or on autopsy tables.

"I don't know if I can keep going." he admitted. "It hurts. And she touches me- it's gross.".

"Make her pay for what she did to us. Please? You're so close- you're closer than any of the other investigators have been. Don't let them get away with it." the girl who was about twenty and looked like Winry spoke, and he frowned. How could he refuse her?

"Make them suffer!"

"Make it hurt!"

"Kill them yourself if you have to!"

Everything was becoming more and more transparent around him. They all stood, one by one, walking to the awning chasm of a six foot rectangular ole in the earth- a freshly dug grave- and casting themselves into it. One by one, they dissolved into mist. The couple went in together, holding hands as their very beings evaporated into nothing.

---

"Ed. Wake up." someone was calling his name hoarsely.

He blinked- it was dark in the room, and he waited for everything to come into focus.

"Ed." there were shoes scraping on the wood floor.

"Urf." he muttered into his gag.

The slumped form on the ground was squirming, and it raised its head. He came face to face with Savannah, who looked weak but was alive.

That alone was enough to make him sag against his shackles in relief. The thought that he'd been alone- coupled with the realization rescue had been so close only to slip through his fingers- was nearly too much to bear.

"I'm okay. Dizzy, but I'm here. It's... it's night? How long have I been gone?" Savannah rasped. She'd been unconscious most of the day. But Ed had no way to answer her, since he was still tightly gagged.

And then the door to the apartment was slammed open, and the shouting started.

"That was too fucking close- we have to move them! Yes I have the car- we're taking them to a new place! Get the damn rugs!" Davidson was shouting.

Daliah rushed into the room, switching on a lamp and casting their filthy states into a full incandescent glow.

There was blood on the floor, along with thick locks and clumps of their own hair, mixed in with the dust and vomit in the room. The only good thing about not being given any food or water all day was that he hadn't had a pressing need to relieve himself and add to the refuse on the floor.

Davidson was pulling an old rolled up rug into the room, unrolling it over the mess and sending billows of dust into the air.

Savannah's hands were still cuffed behind her back, and Davidson stepped on a discarded glass syringe, still clad in his heavy military boots, shattering it. He didn't even notice- Savannah's hands were still cuffed behind her back, and Ed watched in silent horror as her body was rolled up in the center of the rug and she was quickly carried from the room.

There was another ancient looking rug- Davidson was moving towards him now- he had an old-fashioned wooden stockade to place him in to he couldn't clap his hands, and he looked at the screwdriver stabbed through his flesh hand in disgust.

"That's what you get for nearly ruining everything." he said seriously- he cuffed Ed's flesh hand into the stockade, uncuffing his metal hand, transferring it to the stockade too and finishing restraining him before he was being forced to lay down in the next rug and rolled up.

His muscles ached at the new position after hanging so long, and the screwdriver in his hand throbbed and pulsed. He felt as though he might suffocate, wrapped in the fetid old, musty rug and gagged, and he tried to turn his head upward and look at the light at the end of the rug tunnel and breathe, getting as much oxygen as possible.

He could smell the exhaust of an engine and feel a car moving beneath him- Daliah and Davidson were talking hurriedly in hushed voices, and after twenty minutes of driving they were carried- still wrapped in the middle of the rugs- into a new place and unrolled.

Ed had never been gladder to see a dingy motel room in his life. The carpet was a bright fluorescent orange, and the sink dripped loudly in the adjoined bathroom. Savannah was freed from her handcuffs, and instead only cuffed by one wrist to the radiator, while Ed was deposited at the foot of one of the two beds, flesh ankle handcuffed to the metal bedframe and hands still in the stockade frame, screwdriver and all.

They were left alone- Davidson and Daliah locked the door of the motel room behind them, but the lights were left on.

Savannah strained to reach him from where she was cuffed against the radiator, managing to pull off his gag.

"What happened? Why did they just move us?" Savannah rasped, surprised, as she took in the dingy motel room around them.

"The investigators visited the place we were at. Did a welfare check on Davidson's sister." his own voice was so hoarse from screaming, it was barely above a whisper "I made a noise- but Davidson said it was just the cat, and they left. They were mad at me. They're starting to get nervous, I guess. You were unconscious for the whole day. I'm glad you're alive.".

"Me too." Savannah said, looking around nervously. "Do you think we have long? They only wanted to keep us for two days- is that a screwdriver in your hand!?" Savannah looked horrified.

Ed nodded. "Leave it. I have an idea. We don't have much time- we needed to get out of here tonight. They're getting rattled- they might kill us earlier if they think they're backed into a corner." Ed couldn't clap his hands, but with the six inches of a screwdriver, he could rotate his wrist and scratch a rough transmutation circle into the wooden stockade his hands were in. If he could activate the array with his fingers, he'd be able to free himself.

"We'll get out of here tonight." Ed promised. "Wait until they fall asleep.".

Their conversation faded- They'd been left alone for nearly half an hour, and Ed rotated his wrist, biting back a wince, as he diligently made the screwdriver through his hand carve an array in the wooden stockade. He was nearly halfway done- he hated the way he could feel the screwdriver between the bones of his hand, and it hurt like hell, but he needed to get them out of here. He could feel the blood oozing out around the metal of the tool.

He was three quarters of the way done carving the circle when the door swung open, Daliah holding a steaming pot of something and Davidson looking around shiftily, nervously.

"Dinner is served!" Daliah said happily, handing them both a bowl of whatever was in the pot.

Davidson angrily spoon fed him broth. It tasted smoky and it was gritty, and Ed choked. "What kind of soup is this!?".

"Shut up and eat it. You've got until tomorrow afternoon to live- if you comply, we might let you pick your last meal." Davidson said seriously. "If either of you scream, we gun you down right here and leave your bodies in the motel for your friend to find.".

So Ed closed his mouth and ate as obediently as possible, not daring to try and continue carving the transmutation circle in his wooden stockade when Davidson was around.

The last few dregs of broth were like spoonfuls of sand- Ed was pretty sure there were pieces of bone in them, and he turned his head away, refusing. "No-I'm done." he said seriously. "The hell kind of soup is it, anyways?"

Daliah smiled, reaching into her pink leather purse and setting a small urn on the table. "Chicken broth. Made with my mother.".

He'd thought it was shitty homemade chicken soup with splintered chicken bone fragments. But the smoky taste and sandy texture gave the bone fragments new meaning when he saw the urn on the table, and he leaned forward, vomiting all over himself.

"What the fuck?" Savannah whispered, but she closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths to calm her shaking hands and steady nerves.

What the fuck kind of person makes soup out of their dead mother's ashes and feeds it to people? Ed thought to himself. Then again, it was probably the same kind of people who killed people who had abortions, were sadists, and had stabbed him through the hand with a screwdriver.

They had to stay awake. No matter what, they had to stay awake. Ed's heart hammered at the thought of being drugged into unconsciousness again, unable to finish carving the array into his stockade and escape.

Daliah and Davidson were exchanging tense glances, and so when they ducked into the small adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower and vent to talk privately, Ed nodded to Savannah. "We should sleep." wait for my signal. It may be hours. he mouthed.

Savannah nodded, laying down as best she could on the rug as he did the same.

A few minutes later Davidson and Daliah were stepping out of the bathroom, Daliah smiling at them. "Tired?".

Ed nodded.

They were thrown yellowing, stained pillows from the bed, and they both settled down to sleep.

The lights were turned off, and while Daliah fell asleep easily, Davidson stayed up for hours, watching them.

Ed curled up at the foot of the bed his hands were cuffed to, stuffing his stockade covered hands beneath the bed, out of sight, as he continued to work his wrist nd use the screwdriver embedded into his flesh hand to continue to carve an array on the wooden stockade. His heart was in his throat the entire time- every time Davidson sniffed or shifted on the bed, he worried the man had found him out.

Even after the array was carved, he waited with nearly an hour with bated breath until Davidson, too, gave into the pull of sleep.

It was time to fight back.

Chapter 19: Grim Discovery

Summary:

In this chapter, we see Mustang go from worried to as near hysterical as he's been throughout this whole ordeal. As a result of this, he suddenly snaps into super-Dad mode, and becomes one of the most terrifying forces Amestris has ever seen. Let me know what you think!

Notes:

If you're enjoying this story, I'd super appreciate it if you dropped by my tumblr at Fluffykitty12. And as always, your comments/reactions GIVE ME STRENGTH!

 

 

id:13

 

He'd expected to go back to an empty HQ with Atkins- it as late as hell, nearly midnight.

So he was surprised when he walked into the investigations HQ to see a subdued but diligent team of junior investigators- a full staff but t least eight junior investigators and sergeants dutifully manning phones and taking tips.

He had to pause for a moment and shake off his disbelief at the realization- Atkins men were good, and all of them cared for Fullmetal, with the exception of Davidson...

"Mustang. Hey- snap out of it." Atkins was snapping his fingers in front of his face, and Roy blinked. "Sorry. Spaced out for a minute. Coffee?"

An intern was handing him a cup of scalding hot, shitty coffee, but it was the nectar of the gods to him.

"We're missing something." he said simply.

Because they had to be. Newspaper man who knew nothing, reports and tips that were all dead ends- and the unwelcome extra weight on a second state alchemist's watch in his pocket reminding him of his failure.

"And while I know our relationship hasn't always been smoothly- I appreciate you all staying late to try and find Fullmetal." Roy added, addressing the team as a whole.

Th young intern nodded. "O'hara stayed until six, but he had to go home. He takes care of him elderly mother. He said once she goes to bed he's going to swing by for more reports, but he does have to be home incase she needs him at night...".

Roy nodded. It was completely understandable. And honestly- O'hara had been the gray haired investigator who'd stormed out this morning after hearing Ed was still on the case, so the thought that the man would stay late was enough of a surprise.

"Davidson headed out at five. Said he had to go help his sister. She's sick and she's been followed home a few times." the intern really was up on all the watercooler gossip. Besides, they knew Davidson had a sick sister and a borderline psychotic cat, they'd seen and heard them both today...

Help me.

He blinked. Someone had whispered something in his ear.

help... me... it was a female voice, and the team was updating him and Atkins on the myraid of tips and intel they'd recieved and current patrol patterns, but he couldn't concentrate...

k...

"Atkins. We need to go back to Davidson's sister's place.".

"We've already increased patrols around the area."

"We have to go back. That was the last genuine lead we had."

"How was it a genuine lead, though? She forgot to call out from work and she's an unreliable witness. We never found the guy she claims was stalking her." Atkins was looking at him, baffled.

"We have to go back. Something is wrong. I just need to talk to her again.".

Atkins looked a bit surprised, but nodded hesitantly.

"Okay. We can go back.".

"You-" Mustang turned to the young brunette intern he'd given him the crappy coffee. "Come with us? She's got an issue with men- didn't want us in her apartment because she doesn't like strange men around.".

"Okay." the intern nodded, running to grab her purse.

"We'll man the phones while you're gone then." A sandy haired man with pockmarked cheeks Roy could've sworn was called Franks spoke up, not phased at all by the interaction.

Atkins nodded, and remained tight-lipped until their odd little trio- the brunette with a ponytail, Mustang and himself, were sitting in the car on the way to Davidson's sister's apartment.

"You know- I really hope she remembers some new detail that makes this little foray worth it. Because if not, Davidson's going to be pissed we woke his sister up after midnight without telling him first.". he admitted as he drove.

Mustang paused. "Atkins- since when have you given a fuck about what other investigators thought about something?"

Atkins paused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Back in East City, you were all gung-ho to bring in the families of a dozen missing kids and subject them to intensive six hour interviews again. Despite nearly the entire Eastern Investigations team being against it. You gave Maes hell- and now you suddenly care?".

Atkins looked confused. "Maes? Maes... Maes Hughes? Oh, yeah, I remember him. And his team. Smooth running operation. Very professional, very quiet. I listened to their warnings, I just disregarded them. I have that ability, as a special investigator, to do what I think is best. The only time I really hesitate is if someone gives me real hell- and the only one who did that in East City was you. Threatening to have everyone in East City be as uncooperative as possible if I used your Major as bait... Funny thing, looking back on it. I never thought you would be the investigative duo you are now." Atkins admitted somewhat wistfully.

"Hughes is a nice guy. Good investigator. But soft spoken. It was a bit easy to bulldoze his team- because sometimes, to get the real truth, you have to dive right in, no matter who's feelings you hurt.". Atkins admitted, turning the wheel of the car.

"So you don't care about ignoring Hughes opinion, but you listen to me because I rain down hellfire when angry?" Mustang ccked an eyebrow.

Atkins nodded. "Pretty much. They don't call you flame alchemist just for your gloves. Another fact I learned about you in East City. You can be a hothead. Then again, so can Ed. You're probably where he learned it...".

"But you're concerned with upsetting Davidson of all people? He's your investigative sergeant- I heard you bulldoze and strong arm Major Archer last month." the young secretary piped up.

"Yes, but as we've all seen, Davidson is our own resident redheaded volcano." Atkins supplied. "Like Mustang, crossing him results in a lot of yelling and threats. Something I'm not to keen to deal with. And if we visit his sister without him and without calling, he might take it as a personal affront.".

"Tell him it was my idea, then. I'll tell him exactly what he can do with that attitude and his bullshit while my alchemist is missing." Mustang groused.

Atkins nodded, looking pleased at being absolved of the responsibility. "Alright. Sounds good to me. At least then I don't have to deal with his temper.".

They'd pulled up outside the apartment complex, and they filed out of the car.

It wasn't hard to find the basement apartment. Mustang rapped on the door three times.

"Military Investigations!"

There was no reply.

"It's midnight. You may have to wake her up." the young secretary, who Roy vaguely recalled was named Chelsea, spoke up.

He hammered on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

"MILITARY INVESTIGATIONS!" he bellowed.

Still, he was met with silence.

The chill of the basement entrance had taken up residence in his bones and was seeping out into his core, sending waves of dread and wrongness over him. He'd been in the military too long not to be able to trust his gut- he was pretty sure he'd heard Edward telling Alphonse is was called a 'vibe check' the other day, but whatever the kids were calling it these days, it was telling him something horrible had happened here.

"Do you think she's dead in there? Do you think the stalker is the killer and he got her?" Chelsea was asking nervously.

"I don't know. It's a possibility. Step away from the door, Mustang- I'm gonna break it down.".

"I got it." he was already wearing his gloves, and one well-placed snap later and the door was engulfed in flames. Five seconds later, the controlled burn was extinguished and the door was a pile of cinders at his feet.

Chelsea gasped and Atkins had gone bug-eyed, but Roy didn't have time to pay them any mind. He was already striding across the threshold, fingers still held ready to snap.

"Military investigations! Identify yourself!"

He didn't know what he was expecting. Finding a dead woman, maybe. Or one so severely ill she couldn't answer the door.

Atkins found a light switch behind him, illuminating the wood paneled but neat kitchen.

He frowned, feeling dread curdle in his stomach as he was yet again met by silence.

He turned, heading past the dingy wood paneled kitchen and into the back room. It was musty and a bit foul smelling- it was him turn to fumble for a light switch.

The single hanging lightbulb in the center of the room flickered one or twice in indecision, before the room was lit up in it's full revolting display.

The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust.

There were piles of vomit on the floor, a bunch of old medical equipment- faded gurneys, ripped medical procedure chairs, what looked to be a metal frame hopsital bed- sat at the front of the room, near a four-paned glass window.

There were human handprints in the dust.

But the most unexpected thing in the fetid hellhole he found himself in was the hair.

Human hair.

Silver locks of it- short, not even shoulder length- piled on the disgusting floor, unevenly shorn off by some madman.

A handprint in the dust- too small to be a man's- and Savannah's silver cardigan, stained with blood and vomit, tossed caressly to the side.

Her shirt, too, had been cut down the middle and laid in a crumpled ball, along with a bra.

He had to take several breaths to steady himself, because his nerves were shot.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his eyes to the back corner of the room, and came face to face with his worst nightmare.

Two sets of metal handcuffs hung from the wall, one with a rusty smudge around the edges that could only be blood. One set of cuffs was secured to the radiatior, the other to a deep metal ring embedded into the very studs on the wall.

Long, wavy long hair was piled on the floor all around. There was something wet inside him, something weak, clawing it's way up the back of Mustang's throat- he forced it back down, realizing it was a sob and clenching his jaw.

They'd cut Ed's hair.

There were blood droplets- like someone had let a toddler finger paint with ketchup- strewn about the floor. A partial bloody handprint on the wall.

The familiar red coat was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter, because when he saw the familiar silky black tank top slit right down the middle, he went to his knees involuntarily.

His pants were there, too, slit up the legs and crotch in the same manner. His eyes widened. Had they hurt him? Was the poor kid tied up somewhere, completely naked, being treated like an animal?

And... oh god, the kid's red and black platform boots were here too.

One was sitting upright, the other had fallen on it's side on the other side of the room.

There was a discarded iron sitting in the filthy trap, and Mustang reached forward, picking up some of the golden locks of hair on the floor in front of them, holding them between his fingers as he held them up to the light and blinked back what he was pretty sure were tears as he flashed back to earlier in the day.

"Mind if we take a look around you apartment? We can't be too careful, especially if this man was following you as well.". Mustang said simply.

Daliah blinked her coffee brown eyes, placing her hand to her lips and looking hesitant. "I don't know. Strange men looking around my apartment?" she actually looked fearful at the idea.

"What if I take a look? Just see everything's in order- no windows or doors unlocked. It's not a strange man if it's your older brother, right? I helped you move in, after all." Davidson said with a winning smile.

Daliah nodded, looking a little less apprehensive at the idea. "Alright. If it's just a quick look. The place is such a mess, I'm embarrassed"

Davidson ducked past her while Atkins continued to quiz her on the man's appearance.

Davidson was perusing the apartment, narrating as he went.

"Nothing out of order. Just a lot of laundry that needs to be done, sis!"

Clang!

"Oh shit!" Atkins stumbled into the room a moment later, looking off balance. "I forgot you got a cat! And that he hates me!" Davidson said with a laugh. "The little shit knocked over the laundry and ran into the radiator. Geez- I'd hate to be a burglar with an attack cat like that." Davidson chuckled, looking relaxed.

"All the doors and windows are locked, nothing is out of place here. I'm glad you guys didn't go back there- that cat HATES men.".

"Right. We'll send someone around to check in on you later to make sure you're safe." Atkins aid, and they were both leaving.

He'd been here. He'd been at the damn door, and Ed had been only one room away. He dropped the lock of hair, clenching his fists.

There was no cat in the damn apartment. They'd heard a metallic clang- but looking at the double sets of handcuffs and the grizzled metal radiator, it'd obviously been from an automail limb desperately slamming into the radiator.

And that just made everything so, so much worse. Because it wasn't like Ed had been lying the the back, hogtied and drugged unconcious.

I was right there. I was standing at the threshold. He heard m- he heard my voice. I didn't pay attention. He could be dead by now. And it's my fault. I didn't do my job. I didn't protect him. Goddammit, I'm so fucking useless!

He didn't remember getting to his feet, but he whirled, putting his fist straight through the drywall in anger.

When he pulled back his knuckles were bloody, but he didn't care.

A light flashed behind him, and Mustang turned, expecting it to be a gunshot, but it was just the intern- Chelsea- who'd pulled a camera from her purse and started taking photos of the crime scene.

Atkins simply stood in the doorway, looking as close to being physically ill as Roy had ever seen him.

"It was your man. The whole fucking time, it was Davidson!" Mustang thundered, beyond the point of reasoning.

"I didn't know." Atkins looked close to tears. For once, that professional, robotic mask of the calculating investigator was starting to slip. "I didn't... if I'd known, I'd never have brought either of you here.". he said earnestly.

Another camera flash- Chelsea was snapping pictures of the corner where they'd held Fullmetal, now, and the thought made Mustang nauseas.

He wasn't even aware he was doing it, but his lips were moving, and he was speaking in a cold, calm voice to Atkins.

"I want you to find a phone. I want you to pick it up, and call everyone. I want every fucking homicide detective in this godforsaken city at HQ, yesterday. Even the retired ones. I need an investigations squad here to take evidence- I want the whole apartment building locked down, and every tenant interviewed. They couldn't have made a clean break from here. Someone saw something." Mustang had no idea how his voice was so very, very calm as he spoke. Nothing betrayed the absolute bedlam occurring in his mind at the moment.

His own calm and the burning in his eyes must've been intense, because Atkins was nodding eagerly like a kid eager to please his big brother. He was a coiled spring, a rubber band stretched to the max. One wrong move, and he would snap.

"And when we find them- I want to be on the firing squad that sends them to hell."

Notes:

What part stuck out to you the most?

Chapter 20: The Great Escape

It turned out the tenants in the building had already gathered at the stairwell- because apparently, having the basement door incinerated and the military swam their building was enough to draw people out of their apartments.

A man with round black glasses and messy hair in a pink bath robe stood on the landing, talking animatedly to a junior detective as he held a glass of wine.

"She kept to herself, most of the time. Never heard much from her. But there was a lot of yelling down there today, and I saw her moving some rolled up rugs with her brother out to the car. She seemed frazzled. Said something about moving and she was gone without a trace.".

"Did you get a look at the car they used?"

"A glance, yes. Looked like a regular black military car. I went out to smoke a cigarette- she seemed really agitated that I was watching them, and the first digit of the license plate started with a J. I remember thinking it was weird they were so animated, and then they both got in the running car and drove off- they only had those two rubs in the back and a bag of tools. I figured they'd come back for the rest of her things and finished my cigarette, went inside for some cheese, and then went to bed." the man ran his fingers over his comb-over, puffing on another cigarette as he spoke.

He was wearing fuzzy purple slippers that matched his bathrobe.

"Seemed a mite off, looking back, but her brother is military, so I didn't think they'd be up to anything untoward.".

"He's using his military car to transport them?" Mustang asked form where he leaned against the wall.

Atkins looked grim. "It would appear so, yes.".

"Pull the license plate number. I want your men in every damn parking lot with flashlights- they can't have gotten far." Mustang ordered, and Atkins nodded.

"I want every major bridge locked down. Police checkpoints and searches on every vehicle that's leaving the city. They may have hunkered down for the night, but they're probably going to make a break for it in the morning. I want Davidson's apartment raided, as well...".

"We've sent two men over there. They should be back soon...".

The entrance to the apartment itself opened, and a flash of red made Roy nearly sprain his neck in whipping around. A detective held a familiar red coat in his hands, looking grim.

"We found this and some kind of a manifesto written out at Davidson's apartment. It was pretty disjointed and rambling- something about damnation and sexual behavior? It was hard to make out. But we figured you'd want the kid's coat back, Sir." the investigator draped Ed's coat over Mustang's arm, and Mustang took a breath looking at the rumpled garment, quietly draping it over his shoulder.

"Right. Atkins- pull the license plate for his military issued car. Put out an all points bulletin. I'm going to start setting up road blocks on the western bridges and put in calls to shut down the boarder. You start setting up blocks on the eastern bridges. Keep a skeletal force of men patrolling on foot incase any bystanders spot anything." his voice was brisk and authoritative, leaving no room for argument, before he swept out of the room.

He was a man with a mission, driven by a sole purpose. Find Fullmetal.

But as he got into his car, he couldn't help but feel his stomach drop as he ran his fingers over the familiar crimson fabric and swallowed tightly.

Hold on. Wherever you are, hold on. It was nearly three in the morning.

I'm going to find you.

---

Even once he'd finished carving the array, he hesitated for a moment.

His hands were stuffed as far beneath the bed as they could go, but the light from the alchemy he was about to perform might wake up his captors and set them on him like feral dogs.

He turned his head to the side so his cheek was mushed into the musty, fluorescent yellow carpet, to see Savannah slumped over on her yellowing pillow form where her one wrist was cuffed to the radiator.

Her eyes looked like they were made out of porcelain in the darkness, watching his every move. She swallowed nervously.

Davidson had left his service weapon- a six shot revolver- on the nightstand table.

He just had to free them both before the man could get up and gun them down.

He didn't know why, but anxiety held every one of his muscles wire tight.

He'd fought off gunman before, but somehow, this time around, dying in this dingy hotel room seemed like a distinct possibility. He didn't know where his confidence had gone- but maybe it had something to do with the fact he could still feel a tongue in his mouth, dancing against his teeth, and hands running down his body, cupping his manhood and caressing him against his will...

He needed to focus. He had to steel his nerves and try to get out of here now, otherwise they'd be dead within twelve hours.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, and slowly let it out. He'd seen Mustang do that, when Ed had done something particularly stressful or caused a lot of property damage.

He let it out, and raised his chin slightly at Savannah, who was holding her breath.

Ever so slowly, he pressed his flesh fingers to the array carved in his wooden stockade.

There was a faint blue glow of alchemy- he was slow and deliberate in running the alchemic reaction, making it start slower but last longer, so the blue light wasn't so intense underneath the bed.

The wooden stockades around his wrists dissolved into sawdust.

He waited with baited breath after the light of the alchemy had died down.

Davidson's breathing was still slow and even, and Daliah rolled over. He held his breath, and she snuffled deeper into her sheets before going still.

Ed exhaled.

His stockades were gone. He slowly brought the heels of his hands together in a disjointed clap, being mindful of the screwdriver still embedded through his palm. His flesh wrist was still handcuffed to the metal bedframe, and he carefully touched the chain. There was a faint flash of blue and the smell of rust- a quiet clanking of chains, before one of the chain links had rusted to nothing. He still bore the handcuff and two chainlinks on his flesh wrist, but he was free.

Slowly- he sat back.

He army-crawled across filthy, spongey motel room carpet on his belly over to Savannah, who was watching him with wide eyes.

She was breathing faster, looking excited.

Wordlessly, he knelt, trying to remain as small and motionless as possible, before he was awkwardly pressing the butts of his palms together and touching her chain. With a small clink and a flash of blue, the link severed, and she was freed from where she'd been bound to the radiator.

Savannah sat up slightly, looking towards the door of the motel room.

The springs of the cheap motel room bed creaked.

"Leo... I saw a light flash just now..." Daliah's sleepy voice cut across the room and made Ed's pounding heart jump to his throat.

He'd frozen, but Savannah was faster- She seized his wrist and pulled him to his feet, dragging him over to the door.

The movement jolted Daliah fully awake and Davidson sat up with a start.

"Leo! Fuck, they're out! They're gonna get out!" Daliah was on her feet in her nightgown, running towards them, barefooted.

Savannah had managed to unlock the deadbolt, but Daliah was trying to grab her- Ed pushed back, growling, and her nails raked across his cheek, leaving a trail of blood.

"Leo! Fucking help me!" Daliah shouted.

Savannah had managed to get the door mostly unlocked, now- it opened, revealing a sliver of gray light- dawn was breaking outside their little prison. Btu the doorchain was holding the door closed beyond those few inches, and Savannah was fumbling desperately in the dark, trying to unhook the chain...

Davidson shouted something incomprehensible over the mayhem- he'd gotten his revolver, but with Daliah entangled fighting Ed, he couldn't get a clear shot.

Daliah jammed a finger into his eye, and he howled.

Something within him snapped when he felt her hands on his bare chest, and he moved before he realized what he was doing.

White hot pain blinded him for a few seconds as he pulled the screwdriver out f his flesh hand. For one hellish moment he thought he might pass out, but then he caught sight of those stupid brown eyes staring at him in alarm, Daliah's lips quirked into an expression of concern.

He buried the screwdriver to the hilt in her right shoulder.

Daliah gave a blood curdling scream, but he was already shoving her at Davidson with all the force he could muster.

With them momentarily tangled up with one another he turned, placing his automail hand on the door and yanking...

The door chain snapped easily. They both stumbled into the parking lot, feeling the cool spring air. Ed was yet again glad his automail was overclocked for just these situations.

The only sound for a moment was their harsh breathing and bare feet slapping the pavement as they ran.

There was shouting and a single gunshot behind them that skittered off the pavement a good ten feet away.

Ed said nothing, grabbing Savannah and heading for the sidewalk, around the corner of the motel and looking for cover...

He stopped in front of the front awning, chest heaving, out of ideas for the moment.

A couple was unloading bags from their car parked by the roadside, and they gawked at them.

They must've looked a sight- Ed in only his boxers, a bloody mess, Savannah bare-chested and equally filthy and bloody.

Before Ed could think of their next move, Savannah was speaking.

"Give me your keys. He's going to kill us if you don't give me your keys.".

"Should we call the police?" the woman was looking alarmed.

"There's no time! KEYS, NOW!" Savannah shouted, looking feral, and the man frantically dug into his pockets, handing her the keys.

Savannah dove into the driver's side of the car, Ed falling into the passenger's seat, the car's motor roaring to life.

There was the sound of screeching tires as Davidson's car peeled out of the parking lot, slamming past them.

Daliah caught their eyes as they roared past from the passenger's side window, pointing and shouting to her brother- Ed watched them swing around in a wide u-turn in the rearview mirror.

But Savannah was taking a deep breath and had already shoved the pedal down to the floor.

The car jolted forward, engine surging, and Ed looked up from where he'd been watching the mirror.

"Are they behind us?" Savannah asked nervously.

Ed nodded.

"Dammit!" Savannah slammed a hand on the steering wheel and pushed the car further- they were drifting slightly in the lane.

There was a jacket in the back seat of the car, and Ed wordlessly draped it over her shoulders so she wasn't so naked, catching sight of Davidson's car, with Daliah leaving out the window, two car lengths behind him.

"You can drive?" Ed asked seriously.

"Yes I can drive. I have a license- although I totally stole this car." Savannah seemed to calm down when he was talking to her, holding the steering wheel with one hand and threading her arm through the sleeve of her new coat with the other.

"We just... we just have to find a police station..." Savannah was trying to convince herself, when Davidson's car slammed into their bumper, sending them jolting forward.

"Fuck!" they were pushed into a four way intersection, and Savannah slammed on the breaks and wrenched the wheel to the side, turning them 90 degrees to the left before she was accelerating again.

"Fuck the police. Put your damn seatbelt on, these bastards are going to run us off the road!". Ed tugged on his seatbelt, hurriedly doing the same for Savannah.

The first gunshot echoed behind them, pinging off their bumper.

Savannah fishtailed slightly, panicked. "Fuck!"

Daliah was leaning out the passenger window, shakily holding a revolver.

"Take this next corner! Try to shake them off! A revolver only has six shots..." Ed advised.

The next shot missed as they barreled around a corner at fifty miles an hour, slamming Ed into the door.

The clock on the dash read five thirty in the morning. Dawn was just breaking, and Ed took a moment to be thankful for the early hour- otherwise, they'd surely have killed someone during this car chase in traffic. But the streets were nearly deserted.

The car slammed into their bumper again at the next intersection, pushing them past the intersection so they couldn't turn and had to barrel forward.

The back window of the car shattered into a million pieces by a gunshot that whizzed between them both, embedding itself in the center console...

Savannah screamed.

"Hit the breaks! It'll throw off their next shot!" Ed shouted.

Savannah slammed on the breaks. Davidson's car smashed into their bumper at full speed, pushing them along anyways, but it achieved it's desired effect as the next gunshot missed.

Ed threw open his car door, clapping sloppily and slamming his hands into the pavement.

A three foot tall wall sprung from the concrete, separating their cars.

Ed dove back into the car.

"Floor it!"

Tires screeched as Savannah slammed the pedal to the floor. They drifted around the next corner, and the next, before Savannah simply pressed the pedal to the ground and accelerated forward as fast as she could, hitting seventy miles an hour to try and get space between them and their pursuers.

"Did we lose them? Are they gone?".

Ed glanced in the rearview mirror apprehensively. "I think so? I don't see them behind us...".

"Oh thank god." Savannah gave a watery laugh, looking over at him with tears in her eyes. "You know, we just might survive this.".

Sirens were sounding in the distance, and Ed grinned.

"Yeah. We just might." he admitted happily.

They really must've looked a sight. Him in nothing but his boxers, bloodies and bruised. Savannah in a pair of filthy jeans and a stolen windbreaker, barreling down residential streets at seventy miles an hour in a stolen car...

"The cops heard the shots. They're gonna find us."

"Pull over when they do. Then we're home free." Ed advised.

"But I was just getting good at this whole car-chase thing." Savannah joked, shooting him a look.

A police car shot out behind them, sirens blaring and lights flashing, and Savannah started to slow down, looking relived.

At the next intersection, however, a familiar black car barreled into the police car, t-boning it and sending it crashing into a street lamp.

The aggressor car reversed, limping backwards with it's crushed bumper, and Ed swore, seeing Davidson behind the wheel and Daliah leaning out the window again.

"Fuck! Fuck it's them, DRIVE!"

The distant sirens were only a false promise of salvation, and Ed could smell the burning rubber as they accelerated.

"Where do we go!?"

"I don't know! Go straight, but weave a little- fuck, she's still got two bullets!" Ed ordered.

He could hear the fenders and the muffler of their car dragging on the pavement, and he wasn't sure how much more of this they could take.

"I don't know where I'm going!" Savannah shouted.

There was a suitcase in the backseat, and Ed tore it open and started flinging clothing out the shattered back windshield.

Pajamas and underwear hit the windshield of Davidson's car, and the man hit the breaks, causing his sister's next gunshot to go zinging past his left ear and embed itself in the dashboard.

"Ed, there's a bridge coming up, what do I do!?"

"Use it!"

"They're gonna kill us! They'll get to use before the cops do, and they'll kill us!" Savannah was sounding close to despair.

"I'm a state alchemist! They have one bullet, but I've got alchemy- we can survive this, we just have to keep a positive attitude!" Ed ordered. He'd run out of clothes to throw, and so he hucked the entire empty suitcase out the back windshield. It cracked Davidson's windshield with a satisfying clunk, and the man swerved.

He turned around the face the front of the vehicle again and stared.

"Holy shit that's a big bridge.". The bridge was massive- at least two hundred feet across and twenty feet wide, over a massive river.

"No shit!" Savannah shouted.

There was a gunshot and a hiss- the car listed slightly, and Savannah clutched the steering wheel and swore.

"What the hell!?"

"They hit a tire. It's okay, we don't need that tire anyways, we have three other ones, just keep driving!" Ed shouted, trying to remain optimistic.

They were halfway across the bridge- at the end of the bridge, black cars and blue uniforms were visible.

Ed beamed. "There's a roadblock! We just have to make it across the bridge and we're safe!".

There was the screeching of metal, and Ed peered out the window to see the metal of their their ruined tire spitting sparks as it jolted across the pavement.

"That's not kosher." he muttered.

But Savannah was still driving like a mad woman, and he was still half out the window when a car slammed into them from the rear, sending them slamming into the side of the bridge.

There was a blur of white, the screeching of metal, and for a moment, everything went black.

---

He'd just finished setting up the last roadblock when a soldier dove out of his car, radio receiver in hand.

"Sir! We've got reports of shots fired and a vehicle chase! A carjacking- a boy and a girl, bleeding- stole a car. Being chased by a black military car. Headed for the bridge two miles from here!"

Mustang didn't wait for further information- he knew which roadblock that was, he'd just come form that way, and he fairly dove into his car, putting the pedal to the ground.

Hang in there, kid. I'm only a two minutes away.

---

"-d. Ed!"

He could hardly hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

But slowly, the rushing of his own blood in his ears receded, and he was left face-to-face with a blood stained airbag and a frantic looking Savannah.

"Wha?"

"We crashed the car. Davidson and Daliah spun out behind us, we have thirty seconds before they're on us! What's the plan!?".

Ed groaned, placing a hand to his head. "Fight like hell." her muttered, opening the door and stumbling out of the vehicle.

Savannah protested behind him, but he couldn't even really hear her. His vision swam, but in the dawn, he could see they were fifty feet from the end of the bridge- they'd been only fifty feet from the roadblock lined with shouting blue soldiers, from salvation.

Davidson stood in the middle of the bridge, ten feet from him, his revolver in hand.

He looked stunned to see Ed had even gotten out of the car.

"Come to look death in the eyes and face it like a man, huh, kid?" he asked, brown eyes sharp.

"Fuck you." Ed muttered, spitting blood onto the concrete.

"It's a shame you wasted all my bullets. Lucky for me, I have a spare clip." Davidson slid it into his gun, looking positively gleeful.

Daliah was making her way over to their wrecked car, and Ed glared at her, before he was clapping his hands, pressing them to the ground.

A concrete fist rose up from the ground beneath Davidson's feet, sending the man stumbling. He dropped his gun in the process, and it came to rest by the concrete side railing of the bridge, ten feet from him.

That transmutation had taken effort. He was beaten down but not broken, and Davidson looked pissed off and impressed.

"Guess you do still have some fight in you, dog." he muttered.

"Eat shit." Ed muttered, clapping his hands and transmuting his automail into his signature blade. Even that transmutation made his vison blur at the edges, but Davidson didn't need to know that. He was running on empty, but he was going to go down fighting.

Davidson's eyes widened, and he drew an eight inch knife from his boot, looking intrigued.

"It's really going to burn Mustang up- knowing you were so close to help when I gutted you.". Davidson admitted, eyes gleaming.

Ed was tired of talking. He charged.

In the distance he could hear screaming and shreiking- he turned to see Savannah swinging a tire iron at Daliah from where they were standing on the railing of the bridge, but Davidson's knife was grazing his collar bone, and he was jumping back, swinging his own blade to slash the man's cheek...

"Freeze! One more move, and she goes into the water!" Daliah shouted.

Ed froze.

She had Savannah on her knees, and true to form, one well-placed kick would send her over the edge.

Davidson tried to bury his knife in Ed's thigh. The man's bloodthirsty expression changed to one of horror when his blade snapped clean in half- he'd tried to stab Ed's metal leg and hit his port.

Savannah sunk her teeth into Dalilah's calf, and both women fell back onto the bridge and rolled around on the ground.

Every breath hurt, and sweat was getting in his eyes, but Ed kneed Davidson once, twice in the ribs, doubling him over.

Soldiers had started to run the fifty feet down the bridge towards them, now, and Ed wanted to call out to them, but he was being shoved back into the concrete barrier that served as the railing of the bridge, and Davidson's left hook made him see stars.

"One more move and she dies!" Daliah had managed to grab Davidson's revolver and placed it to Savannah's temple. The girl was lying bloodied on the ground, unconscious.

"Back up! Drop your weapons and get off the bridge, NOW!" Daliah roared. The handful of soldiers did as she said, dropping their weapons and backing up.

"How cute is that, Eddy?" Davidson gripped him by the throat, holding him underneath the chin, smiling, before he was starting to choke him. "You put up a good fight, kid, you really did.".

"I said, back up!" Daliah shouted.

Because as all the blue clad soldiers retreated, one was still advancing. He was twenty feet away from them.

"I'll shoot her!" Daliah threatened.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making those kinds of threats." a voice that was vaguely familiar floated to his ears over the static, and the grip around his throat lessened. He gasped for air greedily, and turned to see Mustang standing twenty feet away from him on the bridge.

"Well. He made it just in time to see you die, kid. How poetic." Davidson looked surprised.

"One more step and I shoot her!" Daliah screeched, angered.

Mustang looked at them- from Ed's bruised, bloodied face, to Daliah pointing a gun at an unconscious Savannah- and snapped his fingers.

The distant puff of heat and flash of alchemy was unmistakable.

Daliah's voice split into screams of agony, and she dropped the gun completely, writhing on the pavement and clutching her burned face, moaning.

"You Bastard!" Davidson spat.

And the hand around this throat was tightening again, lifting him off the ground.

His feet dangled into the open air- he kicked, clawing at the hand that held him suspended aloft, but his world tilted, gray fuzzing in around the edges of his vision.

"Let him down!" Mustang's voice was sounding farther and farther away as his vision tunneled out.

"You burn me and I drop him!" Davidson snarled. "I doubt the half-metal brat can swim! This is what you get for interfering with our work!" Davidson jeered.

He was dying. Suffocating slowly. His limbs were growing heavy- he'd felt this before. Every rasping breath, air, precious air, dwindling to nothing...

He stopped clawing at the hand that held him by the neck over the edge of the bridge against every instinct he had, instead weakly pressing his palms together. He couldn't form coherent thoughts- Davidson was hell bent on killing him, he needed air...

And his instincts took over.

Destroy.

---

Oh boy! What do you think is gonna happen next!?!

What was your favorite part? You think Ed is gonna kill Davidson!?!

Please review, and please check out my tumblr at fluffykitty12! 

Chapter 21: Final Battle

The telltale blue flash of alchemy was stained red. The crushing weight on his trachea was gone, and he gasped a breath at the same time as he fell, reaching out blindly with his automail hand, something splashing his face.

He managed to grab ahold of something solid- his cheek brushed against the concrete side of the bridge, and through his swimming vision, he could see the rushing river less than ten feet below him.

All he could do was thank god he had the best automail in the world as he gasped in shaky breaths, filling his lungs with air and forcing the fog of death out of his mind as he hung by his metal hand.

He could vaguely hear screaming, but it didn't really matter. He needed to breathe.

---

Roy Mustang was not in a forgiving mood.

"They're using the kids as hostages, Sir!" one of the rapidly retreating soldiers informed him, wide-eyed, as he started to stalk down the bridge towards them.

"Retreat and they'll kill them anyways." Mustang said acidly. "Bring in the snipers.". He never stopped walking, making his way deliberately towards the ongoing battle.

He managed to make it twenty feet from the brawl before the red-headed nurse- looking fraught and frazzled in a nightgown, hair a mess- shouted the first threat.

"One more step and I shoot her!" Daliah screeched, angered. The woman looked like an angry cat, back arched, hackles raised.

Ed was being pinned to the railing of the bridge by Davidson- the man had a hand around the kid's throat, and other than the kid's feeble struggling, he wasn't making much of a move.

Davidson eyed him acidly.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making those kinds of threats.". Mustang spoke quietly, though his tone was icy.

Look what they've done to him. He wanted nothing more than to glue his eyes to Edward- to take in every detail of the boy and assure himself that he was alright- but he didn't have that luxury at the moment. Thankfully, he was on autopilot. As he took in the man currently throttling his bleeding subordinate and the woman pointing a gun at an unconscious teenager, he felt no pity- rather, only rage.

In Ishval, he'd despised the killing. Some of them insurgents, some civilians, some only in the wrong place and the wrong time.

But this time- looking at the state of the kids- beaten, bruised, hair chopped off unevenly. This time- his flames would bring only justice. Let his fires of hell bring these bastards absolution for what they'd done to his charge. Let the burns be their penance.

This time, if he ended up killing either of these two freaks, he wouldn't lose a single night's sleep over it.

He snapped his fingers.

The reaction was instantaneous- a light breeze as the flammable oxygen followed his every wish, encasing Daliah's face. He'd tempered the density of the flames and the temperature- the familiar smell of burnt flesh lit the air, but this time, it didn't even nauseate him. She'd have second degree burns to her facial structures. IF he'd done everything right, within an hour her eyes would be blistered shut.

The revolver clattered to the ground, no longer a threat, and Daliah fell to her knees, screaming as she clawed at her smoking skin.

Davidson's eyes widened with fear and contempt, and before Mustang could process what he was doing he had Edward by the throat, dangling the boy over the side of the bridge.

"You Bastard!" Davidson spat. He had Edward by the throat, and he was dangling the kid over the side of the bridge, the massive rushing river below them.

"Let him down!" his heartrate was picking up. Edward was kicking and clawing at the hand, but the kid's struggles were growing less violent.

"You burn me and I drop him!" Davidson snarled. "I doubt the half-metal brat can swim! This is what you get for interfering with our work!" Davidson jeered.

Oh god, no. Ed's struggles were growing weaker- he'd stopped kicking entirely now, moving only to claw at the hand holding him, choking him- but it wasn't doing any good.

His mouth was dry, palms itching. He couldn't snap his fingers to burn Davidson without him dropping the kid, condemning Edward to the watery grave below when Davidson dropped him. But he couldn't bear to watch the life fading form the kid as he struggled to breathe, his eyes growing unfocused...

He thought Edward had stopped struggling entirely, now. Was he unconscious? His heart was in his throat- he was useless, the kid was being strangled to death right in front of him and he couldn't do anything...

Ed had stopped clawing at the hand around his neck, and he feebly pressed his palms together. Before Roy could even think about what the kid was trying to do, he'd grabbed Davidson's forearm.

The telltale crackle of alchemy split the air- the resounding sound was like that of a small explosion.

Roy couldn't tell if the electricity of alchemy was blue or red, and Ed appeared to have vanished from sight, dropping over the side of the bridge.

Davidson stumbled back, clutching the stump of his arm, which had violently exploded up to the elbow. The man had fallen onto his ass- blood was spurting out of the amputation, and aside from the massive blood spatter, there was no trace of his missing limb.

Alchemy used to generate an explosion on biological tissue. The thought made Roy nauseas. He hadn't seen such a display since Ishval, and even then- the only one doing such alchemy was Solf J. Kimblee.

The thought of Ed being able to do such alchemy as well made his skin crawl.

Davidson writhed, letting out a pained shout.

Ed had disappeared over the side of the bridge, and Roy raced over to the edge, eyes frantically scanning the water below.

It was rushing by, empty.

He looked to his left, seeing Ed dangling by his automail hand.

The kid was breathing heavily- a spiderweb of cracks moved outward from where his automail hand was gripping the concrete railing for dear life. His eyes were less glassy than before, and the kid was currently gasping in air.

"Fullmetal!"

Ed heard his voice and turned his head, and Roy relaxed, running over to the kid.

Pulling the kid back onto the bridge was no easy affair.

Even when his bare feet were back on the ground, Ed sagged into him heavily, looking exhausted.

Davidson was still writhing, shouting incomprehensibly as he clawed at the ground with his remaining hand, blood painting the concrete around him red.

Ed's eyes widened, breath catching in his throat. He straightened, standing on his own and not leaning on Mustang anymore. "I did that?" his hoarse voice was barely above a whisper.

"You did what you had to do." Roy said simply.

Davidson was going to bleed out on the ground if he didn't do something.

He snapped his fingers.

A controlled burst of flame was on the man's bleeding stump. Davidson howled and writhed, and the smell of burnt flesh and boiling blood lit the air for a moment, before he was whimpering, clinging to his cauterized stump from where he laid curled in the fetal position.

"Can't have him bleeding out before he faces the firing squad." Mustang muttered to himself. But Edward heard, and looked a bit shocked and relieved.

Roy placed a hand on Ed's shoulder, looking into the kid's eyes.

The boy was smeared with blood and filth- clad in only his boxers, with his hair shorn unevenly into a short bob at the base of his skull.

His flesh hand was a bloody mess, and Roy opened his mouth to ask the boy what'd happened to him to cause the injury when the gunshot split the air.

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, a searing pain in his right shoulder.

He could hear Ed screaming, but the static in his mind and the white hot pain in his shoulder threatened to overwhelm him.

---

He was dangling over a rushing river by only his automail hand, clenched tightly on the concrete side of the bridge above him.

He watched the massive riven churn beneath him.

But somehow, that wasn't his most pressing concern. Rather, he was content to dangle here like a fish on a line, if it meant he could gasp in unobstructed lungfuls of air for a little while.

"Fullmetal!"

He heard his name and turned his head to see Mustang gawking over the railing of the bridge at him.

A moment later he was spurred to action- Mustang was leaning over the bridge, grabbing hi upper arms and helping to haul him back onto the solid ground.

Even when his feet touched the concrete he stumbled slightly, sagging forward. Thankfully Mustang was there to hold him up and bear most of his weight before he'd righted himself.

Davidson was flailing about on the concrete like a toddler having a tantrum. Ed didn't realize what he was screaming about until he saw what was left of the man's arm.

"I did that?" his hoarse voice was barely above a whisper. The alchemy he'd done as he took what might've been his last breath seemed a million miles away, he could barely remember...

"You did what you had to do." Mustang said seriously, though he didn't meet Ed's eyes, too busy taking in the man bleeding out on the bridge before them.

Mustang snapped his fingers.

Ed swallowed as Mustang had cauterized the wound within seconds.

"Can't have him bleeding out before he faces the firing squad." Mustang muttered.

And Ed felt his knees go weak, because that meant he was safe, it was over, Mustang was here- Mustang would deal with the logistics of this mess and make sure these two never hurt anyone else ever again.

Mustang's hand was on his shoulder.

Ed looked up to see charcoal eyes, normally so sharp and alert, scanning him with concern. He must've really looked a state- filthy, bloody, through the wringer. But it was alright- it was over now, Mustang was here, and he'd sort this whole disaster out.

The man opened his mouth to ask him something, but he never managed to get the words out.

A gunshot split the air, and Mustang was on the ground in a heap.

Frantic, hiccupping laughter was pouring out of Daliah's throat as she listed, stumbling from where she held her revolver twenty feet away, on the other side of the bridge.

"Mustang!" the scream was torn from him against his will. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, and he was moving of his own volition, charging Daliah with every thought on his mind yelling for revenge...

There were people all around him. In his peripheral vision, he could see the familiar faces- at least a dozen people sat perched on the railing of the bridge, all vaguely familiar, cheering him on as he charged.

Daliah fired a round at him that ricocheted off his automail arm harmlessly, and Ed was tackling her bodily to the ground, throwing the revolver away.

His automail hand was still in blade form, and he left a neat slice across her cheek that would need several stitches, barely catching himself from punching her with his blade still deployed- which would've been an instant death.

Get her! Make her pay for what she did!

Give her hell!

I want to see her scream!

The voices swirled around him, people surrounded him a huddle as he threw himself at her, intent on bringing revenge with him.

He pinned her down with his automail arm, content with slamming his flesh fist into her stupid, shiny red burned face over and over again...

She killed me in cold blood!

Slit her throat just like she slit mine!

Let her choke on her own blood!

The voices swirled around him. He recognized every single face, every single victim, huddled around him like he was in a fight in the school courtyard, screaming for retribution.

"Goddamn stupid, demented, fucking cunt!" he didn't recognize his own voice. He wasn't even aware of the profanity tumbling out of his mouth. Daliah had stopped screaming, stopped struggling. She was rasping for breath, looking at him in muted horror as she spat blood.

"You're going to hell just like you deserve!"

DO IT!

Let her die!

Make her beg!

Let her go. This isn't what I want.

The voices were washing over him like the rushing river below them.

He pulled her to her knees by her hair, pinning her to the concrete side of the bridge.

He slapped his hands together in a sloppy clap- he was shaking with rage.

He pressed his flesh hand to her chin, feeling the crackle of alchemy in his bones, every hair standing rigid as instinct took over. Kill her now. It wasn't being shouted at him by the specters of murder victims, though. It was his own thought that rose to the forefront of his mind unbidden. It didn't even frighten him.

Do it! Do it!

Do it! Do it!

Oh please, stop it! This isn't what I wanted, you don't have to do this...

But the chanting only increased in volume, drowning out the one or two pleading voices.

FINISH IT!

PLEASE!

Daliah gasped pathetically for air, watching the blue light o alchemy dance up his forearms as he held back the reaction.

It'd be easy- so easy- to fucking slam as much energy as possible into her face, let her skull imploded and cave in on the vile brain inside, watch her blood ooze out her ears and mouth as life left her demented body...

There was a hand on his shoulder.

"Ed. It's not worth it." Savannah had managed to stumble over to him.

She looked ready to fall over, but she was standing behind him. She was his only anchor to rational thought at a moment.

He took a gasping breath. Something wet was running down his face- he thought it was sweat, but it was tears. He was too far gone to notice.

"S-she shot my Dad!" Ed hissed, voice barely above a whisper. "I can sent her straight to hell where she belongs. He didn't... he didn't deserve to die..." his breath hitched and his voice broke at the end of his sentence.

Behind them, there was a moan.

"Fullmetal..." Mustang was clutching his shoulder, and he picked up his head, glazed eyes focused on Ed, with his flesh hand engulfing Daliah's bloodied face, blue sparks of alchemy racing up and down his forearm as he barely held back the reaction that would spatter the concrete with her brains.

Mustang paled.

"Ed- come here. Come back to me, please..."

Just like that, all the specters of the dead dissolved into sand except for two women who were crying, looking at him desperately.

Just stop! Listen to him, please, go back!

It's enough! You've done enough to help us, don't let her make you a killer too!

"She shot you!" Ed was nearly frantic, tears pouring down his face as he hiccupped and gestured to Mustang frantically. "I thought she killed you!".

"Believe me, this isn't pleasant" Mustang sat up, wincing, pressing his hand to his wounded shoulder to staunch the blood flow before his gaze was back on the kids and the half-dead woman Ed was about to dispatch.

"But I'm far from dead, kid. She's not worth the blood on your hands. I..." Mustang tried to get to his knees and gasped, his shoulder sending fresh waves of pain up his body.

"Ed- just... come away from there, please. Let the police handle her.".

Ed looked at Daliah hesitantly. He was shaking. Memories rose up unbidden like the nausea churning within him, of phantom fingers dancing over his skin, a tongue slithering into his mouth, hands on his body...

"I don't... she doesn't deserve mercy..." he muttered, shoulders shaking as he fought to repress his sobs.

"And she won't get any. Let the firing squad take care of her. She's not worth it.". Savannah's hoarse voice was a balm for his soul, and he gasped, stepping back and realizing he'd been seconds away from taking someone's life.

Icy cold hands were on his body.

Ed looked to the left to see a woman with curly brown locks and dark blue eyes draped in white.

Her pale hands were wrapped around his flesh forearm that still held Daliah by the chin, tugging frantically, and she looked at him pleadingly, trying to pull his hand- an instrument of death- away from Daliah's bloodied face.

Let her go. It's over. You found them. You set us free. It's enough. she was saying, as tears ran down her pale face.

The other woman- the one who looked like Winry, if she'd ben a few years older- had wrapped her hands around his waist and buried her face in his back as she sobbed out icy tears, not speaking any words. Her sobs wrenched at him all the same, telling him to stop it.

He turned and stumbled back across the bridge to Mustang, still crying. The women at his back exploded into mist, though he knew nobody else had even seen them.

"Don't die. You can't... don't die." Ed pleaded around his tears, dropping to his knees in front of Mustang.

Mustang gave him a dry chuckle, awkwardly fumbling to peel off his coat and pressing his bloodied fingers to his bleeding shoulder as he draped his blue military coat over Ed's shoulders.

"I'm not going anywhere, Ed." he promised.

"I want... I wanna go home..." Ed admitted, barely managing to restrain his sobs as he pulled his mentor's coat tighter around his shoulders.

His nose had started to drip blood, and Mustang frowned, staggered to his feet.

"I know, Ed. I know.".

Soldiers had seen the fight was over, and they were rushing down the bridge in droves, some bearing stretchers and gurneys, others medical kits.

The others were approaching the slumped forms of Daliah and Davidson, guns drawn.

"Colonel!?" a young paramedic was looking at Mustang, who was still putting pressure on his bloody shoulder wound, in alarm.

Mustang stopped walking, leaning against the railing of the bridge. The medic had a stretcher and was looking at him nervously.

"Take the kids first. They're worse than I am." Mustang ordered.

"I'm not going without you." Ed said, golden eyes going bronze with determination.

"Both of you shut up and get on the gurney!" Savannah called from where she was being carried by on a stretcher.

"There's room for both of you, just sit down." the paramedic urged, shepherding them both to the gurney.

Which is how they ended up side by side, sitting on the edge of a gurney that was being wheeled down the bridge towards ambulances.

"You alright?" Mustang probed cautiously.

Ed had stopped crying- though really, he hadn't been openly sobbing at all, tears had just been sliding down his face against his will. Now he was just sitting both flesh and metal hands holding onto the underside of the gurney to keep himself upright. He still hadn't reverted his automail hand from its blade, but Roy had a feeling if Ed tried to, the transmutation would prove too much for him at the moment and he'd pass out.

Ed nodded, though he looked moments away from collapse.

Mustang threaded an arm around the kid's shoulders, pulling him into his side.

"Take it easy, Ed. It's over.".

Ed had stopped clutching the gurney with a white knuckled grip, and he seemed to melt into Mustang's lap, burying his face in the man's side and sighing. The tension was slowly bleeding out of the kid's shoulders- he looked like hell.

He was still dwarfed by Mustang's coat pulled tightly around him, but Roy could clearly see his bloody flesh palm peering out from the too-large sleeves.

"What happened to your hand?"

"Screwdriver." Ed mumbled, looking half-conscious.

Mustang wanted to ask him to elaborate, but the thought of the boy's hand impaled with a screwdriver and his current state of being shot through the shoulder made him nauseas as hell.

Ed peeled himself back from where he'd had his face buried in Mustang's side, though his fists were still balled in Mustang's black shirt he wore underneath his coat. "Can we... lay down?" Ed asked hopefully.

"Yeah." Mustang acquiesced, swinging his legs up on the gurney so Ed was situated between them before he was laying back.

Ed clamored up onto his chest, burying his face in Mustang's black shirted chest and letting out a sigh. It was finally over.

Mustang said nothing, simply taking his uninjured arm and carding his fingers through the uneven blond locks on the kids head.

"Is he conscious?" the medic asked anxiously.

Ed had gone still.

"Edward? You with us?" Mustang asked, anxiety tinging his tone.

"Mhhmmm." Ed mumbled into his shirt.

"Stay awake. We're almost to the ambulance.". His own shoulder was hurting like a bitch- he doubted he'd have the luxury of passing out if he tried, considering the white hot poker that felt as though it was currently being inserted into his shoulder. But talking to Ed was grounding- it gave him a goal to work for, something to distract him from the pain.

Ed was still dwarfed in his coat, both his metal and flesh fists balled up with handfuls of Roy's black shirt on either side of his head, which was still buried in Roy's chest. Even though Ed's wicked automail blade was still present, it never touched his skin, and he knew Ed wouldn't thrash or accidentally injure him so long as he was held close like this.

Roy ran a gloved hand through the kid's hair. It was over- it was finally over.

"Ed- are you okay?" Mustang asked.

Ed said nothing.

Roy wasn't sure if the kid was unconscious or just not sure how to answer.

The doors of the ambulance were shut behind them, and Ed didn't react at all.

The kid was definitely out cold.

Roy sighed, offering his undamaged arm and letting them start an IV.

He turned down the strong painkillers they offered in favor of staying awake, peeling off his gloves and carding his bare fingers through Ed's short, choppy haircut.

He was incensed at the thought they'd cut his hair- stabbed him with a screwdriver- thought it acceptable to even lay a hand on his boy.

But Ed was with him, at least. The ordeal was over. It'd be alright.

The medics were doing their best to look Ed over.

The kid's automail arm was obviously not a candidate for an IV.

And the medics looked oved his flesh hand, holding it up to the light.

Roy could see clear through the hole in the back of the boy's hand where he'd been stabbed with the screwdriver.

The medics could, as well, and they were quickly wrapping the wound in sterile white bandaging.

"Can you turn his arm over?"

They ended up nestling his IV in the crook of Ed's flesh elbow.

Ed didn't even stir when they inserted the needle, and while the boy's stillness unsettled him, he couldn't help but think maybe it was better this way. Ed had already been through the wringer, and he hated doctors and needles as it was.

The medics were holding pressure on his shoulder, and it hurt like a bitch.

So he looked down at Ed, tracing every relaxed, slack feature of the boy's face with his eyes and running his good hand through the boy's hair, grounding himself.

It was over. And they'd patch everyone up and be on their way home soon. He could take care of the kid- whatever he needed, now that he was back in Roy's custody, he'd do anything needed to help the boy heal.

He sighed, laying back on the gurney and letting his eyes slip shut, letting the wheaty blond locks run through his fingers.

He had Ed back. The kid was passed out cold on top of him.

They were almost to the hospital.

So for the first time in nearly twenty four hours, Roy Mustang let sleep take him.

Did you like it? What was your favorite part?

Chapter 22: Aftermath

So I meant for this to be funny drugged out Roy, but it's accidentally Royai. Sorry not sorry. Let me know if you think it's realistic, because this was one of those chapters I wrote then deleted then re-write several times because I felt like it was crappy.

Also there's a TON of hurt/comfort and parental Roy, so here you go!

Thanks so much for your reviews and support. Your comments spurred me to get off my butt and post.

---

The first thing Roy was aware of when he opened his eyes was the dull hum of fluorescent lights.

The second thing was that his clothes had been changed- from his usual black shirt underneath his blue uniform jacket to a mint green hospital gown. And his shoulder holster had been removed.

The second thing he was aware of was that he was, in fact, in a hospital.

And then everything came rushing back to him.

He sat bolt upright, inhaling sharply and looking around the room frantically.

There was a bed next to his own- and in it, he could make out a few locks of blond hair.

He exhaled through his nose, relaxing slightly when he realized Ed had been placed in the same hospital room, and started the ordeal of fighting with the bed rails and his IV line to get out of bed so he could get a closer look at Edward.

"I'd advise you lay back down, Sir. They've just removed a bullet from your shoulder." a calm female voice sounded to his left.

A small red exclamation point appeared above Roy's head, and he whipped around to see a familiar blonde sniper seated in a chair beside his bed.

"Lieutenant?"

"In the flesh, Sir." Hawkeye allowed a small smile to creep into her expression at his bewilderment.

"What are you doing here? And... where is here?".

"West City General Hospital, Sir. You failed to check in yesterday.".

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that." he normally called just before lunch everyday. When Ed had been taken, he'd completely forgotten. "They took Ed. I was busy.".

"I can see that." Hawkeye said, and Roy nodded, glad she was agreeing with him rather than pointing her gun at him.

What had he been doing again?

Oh, right- trying to get a better look at Ed.

He resumed wrestling with the bedrail, managing to get it down and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Sir? You shouldn't be up." Her lips were parted, expresso eyes warm with concern as she watched him...

"Stop looking at me like that. It's distracting.".

Hawkeye drew her shoulders up straighter, looking mildly annoyed. "Looking at you how, Sir?" she was simply treating him as she usually did.

"Looking at me. With your face. Too beautiful, I keep forgetting what I have to do..." dammit, she was drawing him in again- even the light blush that colored her cheeks when he said she was beautiful was cute...

"You need to stay in bed, Sir. You're on morphine, for the pain...".

"They took our kid, to hell with that!" he rarely ever disagreed with Hawkeye, but he was tired of her distracting him with her beauty and trying to make him stay put when he had things to do, couldn't she see Edward needed them?

Hawkeye had fallen silent, and he turned back to the task at hand- currently, that meant standing up and walking over to check on his kid.

He got his feet under him and stood- only for gravity to suddenly fuck itself and send him stumbling like a drunk, were it not for two slender hands catching him and holding him upright.

"What the hell is wrong with this hospital, that they can't keep the floor level?" Roy groused.

"I don't know, Sir." Hawkeye was looking down to hide her slight smile as she slung Roy's arm over her shoulders to steady him, though it was hard to keep the amusement from her tone.

She held him steady as he made the journey a few steps across the room to the bed where Ed laid.

Looking down at the kid, it hit him again- the crushing reality that they'd cut his hair. It was such a trivial thing, really- when compared to the heavily bandaged flesh hand that rested atop the pristine sheets, and the sliver of white bandage peering out between his collar bone and his own minty hospital gown.

But Ed's hair- that signature braid, always plaited so neatly down his back, whipping around behind the kid when he ran- well, it was as bright and defiant as the red coat and so uniquely Ed that it seemed wrong.

Seeing the normally vibrant hair unevenly trimmed so close to the base of the kid's skull was nauseating, because it was a reminder of what'd been done to the boy. How beaten down he'd been.

He was reaching out before he could stop himself, trailing his fingers down the boy's pale, drawn cheek tenderly.

Ed stirred slightly, and though his eyes never opened, he turned his head, nuzzling into the touch and humming contentedly.

Something warm blossomed in Roy's chest at the sight. Yes- Ed was certainly battered, beat to hell, for sure- but the kid had had worse. He'd never broken before. Not the first time- two limbs short, confined to a wheelchair.

And he certainly wouldn't break now- not under Roy's care, his team's protection- not with all of them rooting to put Ed back together if or when he needed it.

"Well?" Hawkeye was saying something, and he turned around to look at her quizzically.

"You didn't hear a word I was saying, did you?" Hawkeye asked, sounding slightly exasperated.

His hand absently crept up to tug at the edge of the fresh bandages on his shoulder- yeah, sure, he'd been shot, but it didn't really hurt- he felt fine- better than fine, he felt great, actually, good enough to tell Hawkeye he loved her...

"You distracted me again. You're still very, very beautiful." he admitted, though he kind of felt like he was trying to tie his shoes with his tongue. There was sunlight streaming though the room, and it hit her hair just right, highlighting a pale line of freckles that crisscrossed her face, just beneath her eyes and across the horizon of her nose. How had he never noticed those before? He wanted to kiss each and every one of them.

He reached up, fingers tracing over the side of her face and tucking a single unruly strand of blonde hair back behind her ear, leaning closer to her...

She carefully caught his hand with her own, bringing it down in front of her and giving it a supportive squeeze as she stepped back from him slightly, though she looked pained. Roy was confused. Didn't she want this? To be close to him, like he wanted to be close to her...

"Let's get you back to bed. You've been shot, remember?" her voice was low but serious, though it sounded strained, an unspoken desire was still in her eyes...

"I feel fine. For having been shot, anyways." Roy remarked absently, letting her lead him back to his hospital bed.

"That's because they gave you morphine, remember?". Hawkeye was back to sounding amused as he sat back down on his bed, bringing his legs up after him and laying back.

"I don't remember that." he admitted. "Maybe if they gave you some too, it'd make you brave enough to kiss me...".

Hawkeye blushed, looking away from him. She took a deep breath to compose herself, before she was tucking the sheets up to his chin.

She moved to put the bedrail back up- and hell, he wanted to invite her to join him in bed.

But she had such a hesitance- almost a pleading look to her eyes, as she fought with the bedrail, which so stubbornly stayed down.

God, he wanted to grab her hand and tug her into bed with him.

But that slight hesitance when she spoke, the light tremor in her hands, and the way her eyes seemed to beg no more, please, don't push me anymore, or I might break. stayed him.

But God, if he didn't entertain enticing her. Her resistance was more for show- she was such a powerful woman, so strong and resolute. Some called her cold, but through those sniper's eyes and steady hands, he wanted nothing more than to invite her to lay down beside him.

She managed to get the bedrail up, and he looked at her sadly.

"You should get some rest, Sir.". she'd resumed her place in the chair beside his bed.

Roy frowned, glancing from her to Ed's bed. "You should sit between us. He's going to be scared, if he wakes up and can't see one of us.".

Hawkeye looked slightly surprised at the request, but relocated her chain at his suggestion, expression softening as she looked over at Ed.

"They drugged him and tortured him and he still got away. Fought like hell the whole time. I've never seen the kid so close to actually killing someone in a fight." Roy admitted. "I don't know why, but for some reason he still trusts me. Even after I got him into all of this." guilt was starting to seep into the cracks in his composure, now, his expression darkening.

"It's because he knows you're trying to help them." a familiar female voice replied, a steady hand resting atop his own that laid on top of the bedcovers. It was almost as good as a hug, just feeling her slender hand atop his own.

"Yeah- and look where my help has gotten him so far.".

"Closer than he'd be to fixing things without your help. There's been a cost, sure, but it's better than him rotting in a wheelchair in some backwater town. Close your eyes, get some rest. Your investigation has exploded- they're going to need you not saying crazy things and on morphine if they have any sort of hope to sort this all out." Hawkeye reassured him easily.

"Get some rest, Sir.".

"Wake me up if he wakes up, Ri- lieutenant." what the hell had they given him? He was tripping over every single word today.

"Of course, Sir." she patted his hand reassuringly, and he allowed his head to fall back on the pillow and sleep to drag him under.

---

The next time he woke up, it was to a burning, throbbing pain in his shoulder.

He resisted the urge to groan, sitting up slowly and keeping his shoulders as still as possible.

"...Hawkeye?".

"Sir?".

"What time is it?" all his optimism and energy from earlier seemed to have been lost. And his shoulder pulled and burned painfully, even the bandages rubbing his skin were annoying.

"Four in the afternoon, Sir.".

"What time was it... earlier?"

"Approximately noon. Are you in pain, Sir?".

His expression must've been showing more than he wanted it to. He sat up straighter, schooling his expression and taking a deep breath. "Uncomfortable, maybe. But I'll live.".

At that moment, there was a rustling of bedsheets and a moan.

"Edward?"

Roy was sitting up and looking over at the bed beside his.

Edward was still laying down, and his eyes roved the room frantically for a moment.

There was a muted clap and a gasp of pain when Ed slammed his bandaged flesh hand into his automail in a desperate clap, ready to perform alchemy on a moment's notice.

"Easy Ed. We're in the hospital." Hawkeye kept her voice quiet and tone level.

Ed's eyes instantly snapped over to her, though his hands were still pressed together. His brows knit in confusion, and the fear melted form his expression when he saw Hawkeye sitting beside his bed.

"Hawkeye?" he asked hoarsely. "What are you doing here?".

"Helping to look after you and the Colonel. You two seem to be in quite the mess right now." Hawkeyes admitted, giving Ed a small smile.

"Shit." Ed sat up with a wince, eyes scanning the room. When he saw Mustang sitting up in his own bed, he relaxed slightly, though it took him a moment to drop his hands, realizing he didn't need to transmute anything at the moment and was safe.

Ed's gaze lingered on Mustang for at least a full minute, focusing mostly on the man's bandaged shoulder and his immobilized arm in a sling. "...are you okay?" he asked hesitantly, voice quiet. "She shot you.".

Mustang nodded. "I'm fine." he confirmed, eyes narrowing in concern as he took in the sight of Ed. "Are you okay? You've been through much more then I have.".

Something flashed across Ed's face- something unreadable, before he was nodding slowly. "I'm fine." he said simply.

"What are your injuries? Do you remember? I haven't gotten a chance to talk to your doctor yet-" Roy was rambling, looking the kid up and down.

Two white square bandages were taped over Ed's neck. There were some superficial scratches on his face, and a sliver of white bandages peaking out where his collarbone met the shoulder of his mint hospital gown. His flesh hand was wrapped around the palm in thick white bandages- Roy's brow furrowed when he recalled Ed having mentioned something about being stabbed with a screwdriver.

He couldn't see any of Ed's lower half- the crisp white hospital sheets pooled at his waist and covered his feet and lower half- but he didn't see any casts on the kid, so that was promising.

"Scratches, bruises, some burns..." Ed shifted in the bed, wincing slightly as he took stock of himself.

"Burns?" Roy frowned.

"They took a hot iron to us. Held up down and burned us. They don't hurt as bad as they did when I got them. Then again, I'm pretty sure I went into shock or something... Nothing felt real for awhile. But maybe that was just the drugs. Maybe I imagined everything (1)." Ed said the last part so quietly, Roy nearly didn't hear him.

Ed looked around the room, suddenly looking anxious again. "Where's Savannah?".

"Is she the girl that was with you? She's in another hospital room down the hall, I heard two nurses mention her." Hawkeye spoke up.

Once again, Ed relaxed slightly, leaning back against the headboard, appearing to deflate. "She's alright?".

"I haven't talked to a doctor, but from what I've seen, it seems like you two were worse off than she was." Hawkeye assured him.

It was at that moment a young nurse in a short skirt with dark cherry red hair that hung past her shoulders stepped into the room. Her lipstick matched her haircolor perfectly, and brought out her deep blue eyes. Ed's gaze lingered on her fingernails- though they weren't long, they, too, were painted red. She was pushing a cart that had pill bottles and medical supplies on them.

"Edward. I'm glad to see you're up. How are you doing, sweetie?".

"I'm fine.".

"No pain at all?"

"Nope, I'm good." Ed watched her hands as she checked her clipboard, moving to grab some supplies.

"Right. Well it says here you're both due for some fresh bandages-" she turned to Hawkeye, looking apologetic. "Could we get some privacy, please? They're going to have to pull up their hospital gowns...".

"No! She stays here." Ed said hurriedly.

Hawkeye and Roy were looking between Ed and the nurse in a game of visual ping pong, unsure what to make of it.

"I can change my own bandages. Give me the stuff and I'll take care of it in the bathroom." Ed said seriously.

The nurse looked regretful, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Ed, but I need to look at the stitches to make sure they aren't infected.".

"Stitches? Listen, we haven't even talked to a doctor yet, why does he have stitches? What happened to him?". Roy was looking at the nurse with concern.

"I got cut up a little. It's nothing serious." Ed was picking at the bedsheets, though he still watched the nurse warily.

"I understand that, but someone needs to check that your stitches are still intact and not infected and put fresh bandages on them." the nurse stepped forward, a fresh package of bandages in hand. "If you'd just let me take a look...".

She was reaching for the bedsheets pooled at his waist, and Ed's eyes widened, his breathing growing more rapid.

"I'm just going to move up your gown a little, alright?".

Ed did nothing, staring straight ahead. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he breathed- he looked like a frightened rabbit, ready to bolt at any moment.

To her credit, the nurse was incredibly quick and professional, unwinding and removing the old bandage and quickly examining the stitches, frowning.

"Any pain, Edward?".

Ed said nothing, staring straight ahead absently.

Strange, thin fingers danced across his thighs. The woman was talking to him, taunting him, but he wouldn't dignify her with a reply. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes, and he blinked hard, trying to keep them at bay...

"Are you in pain, Mr. Elric? You're crying.".

Ed's lower lip was trembling, tears rolling freely down his cheeks. "Get away from me." he whispered hoarsely.

"Sweetie, I just... Give me two minutes to get a fresh bandage and dressing on." the nurse spoke hurriedly, grabbing clean bandages and moving hurriedly, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

"Edward. Ed. Look at me. Does it hurt? It's almost over, she's just changing your bandages, what's wrong?" Roy tried to get his attention.

But Ed was a glass statue- hands trembling, staring straight ahead, unseeing.

He flinched when Hawkeye placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling away from the touch and swatting her hand off him.

"There. Done!" the nurse tried to sound reassuring, tugging the leg of Ed's hospital gown back down and pulling the sheets over his lap. He hadn't been exposed at all, the nurse had been quick and professional, making sure only his upper thigh was exposed.

Ed said nothing, allowing himself to fall back onto the pillows and scrambling to get his entire body covered by the blanket, curling into a trembling ball.

Roy and Riza exchanged glances, looking to the nurse.

"What happened to him?" Roy asked seriously. "Don't ignore me, Fullmetal!" Roy raised his voice slightly, trying to get any reaction from the lump of blankets.

"Sir, please..."

"I'm fine. My leg hurts. I got cut up, I told you." Ed spoke up, voice trembling, from where he was curled under the blankets.

Roy frowned, looking at the nurse worriedly. "Is his leg infected?" he asked nervously. Ed hated hospitals, and normally he was very vocal in his opposition of them. But for the kid to go completely numb and seem to shut down for those few minutes was so out of character, it made Mustang's stomach churn slightly.

"No signs of infection, thankfully.".

"Well something's wrong with him." Roy glanced over at the heap in the blankets on the bed across from him.

Ed had uncurled from the fetal position, and he was resting face down on the pillow. He had the blanket pulled up like a hood over him, so only a few locks of short golden hair were visible.

"I... this is actually quite normal for someone who's been through a traumatic situation like he has. The kidnapping, the torture... The doctor will be in to speak to you shortly." the nurse said simply, pressing her lips together, looking businesslike. "Now, Mr. Mustang, if you'll let me change your bandages..."

He was only slightly distracted from Ed's out of character behavior by the pain of having his own bandages changed.

When the nurse was gone, leaving the three of them alone in the room, Roy cleared his throat.

"Edward. Are you alright? I know you hate hospitals, but you just... froze up... when the nurse was working on you. How badly does it hurt? How deep is it, are you alright?"

There was only silence as his reply.

"Edward." Roy was getting slightly annoyed, now.

Hawkeye frowned, leaning closer to look at the bundle of blankets.

"I think he's asleep, Sir.".

"Oh." the annoyance was gone from Roy's tone, replaced only by concern and worry as he rubbed at his own tired eyes. "Right. I'm not... imagining things, am I? He did just totally disassociate when the nurse came in, right?"

Hawkeye nodded quietly. "He did, Sir. But he was kidnapped and tortured- you and I both know that the mental scars from these things can be nearly as bad as the physical ones.".

"I'm aware. I've just never- he's been through a lot, Hawkeye, but I've never seen him shut down like that. Only one time- when he fainted at that crime scene with the dead woman who looked like his mother. I just have a bad feeling..." and he did. Unease was churning in his stomach, trying to give him an ulcer.

"She said the doctor will come by soon. You can talk to him then, Sir."

Roy nodded, trying to reassure himself.

Ed laid perfectly still. Part of him felt bad, pretending to be asleep and making Mustang and Hawkeye worry, but really- he wasn't ready to talk about what'd happened in that stupid basement apartment, or if he even could talk about why he had bite marks on his thighs. It was still raw, and a bit embarassing, and so he wrote off his guilt in favor of self-preservation, until he actually did fall back asleep.

Approximately a half an hour after Ed dropped off to sleep, footsteps echoed down the sterile white tiled hallway, and a familiar man in a white doctor's labcoat stepped into the doorway. The man had a large, square frame with broad shoulders. He had a lined face like Falman, and wavy black hair speckled with gray. His emerald green eyes helped Roy Mustang recognize him as someone familiar, though he couldn't think of the name...

"Evening, Colonel. Dr. Ken at your service. I treated Ed a few days ago, in the hospital clinic, for his stomach virus. Saw he was on the patient roster and figured I'd take him on again. How's he doing?" the name stepped closer to Ed's bed, lined face creasing as he watched Ed sleep.

"About as well as can be expected I suppose." Roy was already getting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I'd like detailed reports of his injuries, if you don't mind. And I'd prefer we talk somewhere else- I'd rather he not wake up to us discussing him.".

"Of course, of course." Dr. Ken agreed, though the man didn't miss Roy's slight wince as he stood. He was a doctor, after all.

"How's your shoulder, by the way?".

"I'll live." Roy said tersely. "I have more important things to attend to. Been waiting on a doctor all day to tell me what happened to my soldier. Hawkeye- if he wakes up while I'm gone, look after him.". Roy ordered calmly, and Hawkeye nodded, expression softening. "Of course, Sir.".

He stepped into the hall, hoping to finally get some answers about what'd happened to Ed in those hellish 19 hours the boy had been missing.

Did you like it? What was your favorite part?

Chapter 23: A Sense of Style

Notes:

MORE TRAUMA and some comic relief of Ed being his dorky self and Roy and Riza appreciating their weird son.

Roy sat across from Dr. Ken's desk, looking at the wide array of papers the man was sifting through with trepidation.

"Minor contusions- bruising, basically- to the face. Puncture wound through the hand, full thickness. Looks like he was stabbed with a tool or instrument of some kind. Second degree burns approximately 4 by 5 inches near his shoulder, and five by five inches on his abdomen. More bruising and contusions on his neck and thighs. Lacerations to his thighs, as well." Dr. Ken listed off everything in an almost robotic fashion, and Roy nodded trying to look impartial.

"He has stitches is his leg. Why? How deep is the cut?".

Dr. Ken cleared his throat, avoiding Mustang's eyes for a moment.

Roy frowned, gaze intensifying. "I don't like being lied to, doctor. And I especially don't like being lied to when it's about a soldier I'm responsible for. Especially not when it's Ed- I'm the boy's legal guardian as well as his commanding officer.".

Dr. Ken looked up, expression flashing to uncertainty. "I'm not trying to lie to you, Colonel. I'm trying to be gentle in how I deliver this news. I have kids of my own, you know." he looked so sincere, Roy dialed down his hostility slightly.

Dr. Ken heaved a sigh, massaging his eyes, which had large black bags beneath them. "Right. There's no good way to say this, so I'm just going to tell you. The contusions on his neck are hickeys, and the lacerations to his thighs are bite marks.".

Roy opened his mouth to say something- to ask if the doctor was reading the right file, if the paperwork hadn't gotten mixed up- before snapping in shut again, trying to regain control of his expression.

Roy swallowed convulsively, trying to school the nausea creeping over him. He'd started to anxiously tap his foot, and he clenched and unclenched his hands and focused on his breathing for a moment to center himself, before he was able to take a deep breath and dive back into the terrible, horrible, disgusting conversation at hand.

"How bad is it?"

"There's no signs of rape or sodomy, if that's what you're asking." Dr. Ken admitted. "But as far as what he does have- four hickeys on his neck, three on his thighs. Three open bite wounds on his inner thighs- one of them deep enough to require nine stitches.".

Roy's hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, and he was itching to get out his gloves and burn something.

"And his mental state? Does he know? Does he remember, was he conscious when they... mauled him?".

Dr. Ken pressed his lips together, looking grave. "Judging by his reaction to the nurse trying to change his bandages- I would say yes, unfortunately.".

"Fuck." the expellative was torn from him before he could catch himself, but Dr. Ken didn't look offended at all, nodding along in agreement.

"What do we... how do you treat this?" Was it like combat fatigue? Roy had seen soldiers with combat fatigue, men who'd throw themselves on the ground in a trembling heap when a car backfired or become inconsolable, mistaking the rumble of distant thunder for artillery barrages. Hell, he'd been one of them at some point- drinking himself to sleep with whiskey and rehydrating his sorry self with coffee to drag his way through the day.

But this was an entirely different animal. And his subordinate wasn't some grizzled twenty something battle-hardened soldier- he wasn't even fifteen yet.

Dr. Ken looked remorseful. "So there's two ways to go about it. Sedatives and anti-anxiety medication, if he has flash backs and panic attacks. And talk therapy, so he can work through his hesitance and distrust of people...".

And then it dawned on Roy. "We don't even know which one did it to him. If it was Davidson or his sister, or both...".

Dr. Ken winced. "I don't mean to speculate. But judging by the size of the bite marks- it was the woman.".

Somehow, that made it even worse. Because to be violated and assaulted was one thing, but to have it done to him by a woman? It was an assault on not only his pride and himself, but his sense of masculinity...

"He may not want to talk about it. Kids his age are often good at compartmentalizing, to survive... That boy has two automail limbs. I doubt he'd have gotten this far in the military if he didn't know how to deal with trauma." Dr. Ken sounded like he was trying to convince himself, though he gave Roy a look.

"This is all being noted in his military file, though. So if he does decide he wants to talk about it, he's able to go to the military hospital and see someone. It wouldn't hurt to tell him that."

Roy nodded. "Right. Has anyone else seen his file?".

Dr. Ken pressed his lips into a firm line. "A soldier named Atkins came by and looked at it earlier- looked like he was about to faint and left in a hurry- but there's a suspicious lack of MPs asking for it, if that's what you're asking.".

"Right. Keep it that way, if you don't mind.".

"Of course. I treat sensitive cases like this with the utmost privacy. I'll be sending you my notes and relevant medical observations, of course. Where can I reach you?".

Roy scrawled down his office information on a sheet of paper.

"How's the shoulder, by the way?" Dr. Ken's eyes drifted over to Roy's bandaged shoulder and arm in a sling.

Roy gave him a half shrug, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. He was exhausted and quite frankly sick of West City in general.

"It's there.".

"You really should rest. I know you're worried about the kid, but by all physical standards- he's going to make a pretty full recovery.".

Roy sighed, cocking an eyebrow. "And mentally?".

Dr. Ken's gaze changed, and he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not that kind of doctor. But when I spoke to the kid- the way he carried himself, his entire demeanor- he gave off an aura of being much older than he is, much stronger than a regular kid. Of someone who didn't just want to follow the rules, but actually do the right thing. It seems like he'd have a hard spirit to break. But you're the expert in that- after all, it's what the military does, isn't it? Break these young men down and build them back up again?".

"I'd like to think that." Roy sounded more jaded than he cared to admit. His shoulder was starting to throb- a slow, dull burning ache that climbed up his collar bone and pulsed.

"He's a fine young man, you know. Sharp as a whip and quick on his feet. He may not be a shining example of a soldier, but as far as I'm concerned, the military needs more like him- someone willing to listen to both sides of the story before making a harsh judgement.".

Roy got stuck on one specific phrase the doctor had just said. 'The military needs more like him'. His eyes widened slightly- he imagined a small platoon of Fullmetals, clad in red and shouting at one another, kicking open doors and running around military headquarters with poorly written reports, full of sarcasm and spite. Knocking over stacks of paperwork, and in the distance, an ominous rumbling as they brought down buildings with their violent temper and alchemic shenanigans.

"The military can barely handle one of him." I can barely handle one of him. Roy thought, getting to his feet, sluggish with fatigue. "You just want to watch the world burn, don't you?".

Dr. Ken had the audacity to laugh. "You act like he's a menace. Really, can teenagers be that much work?".

"You should see the messes I have to clean up. You'll understand one day.".

"Somehow, I don't think he's entirely to blame for your exhaustion, Colonel. You look like a man who hasn't had a good nights sleep or a hot meal in awhile. And the bullet in your shoulder certainly can't be helping matters.".

"I can sleep now that we got those maniacs." Roy conceded, turning and pausing in the door frame. "Thank you for the update on my subordinate.", he turned shuffling down the sterile white hallway, back towards his hospital room.

He was content to shuffle along sluggishly, when someone rolled up behind him with a wheelchair.

"Want to go for a ride, Mustang?"

Roy turned, looking to see a red-eyed Atkins piloting the tempting wheelchair.

"You expect me to let you drive me around the hospital like in invalid?" Roy asked skeptically.

Atkins shrugged. "You look pretty ragged. Besides- I wanted to talk down the hallway, away from where other people might hear us.".

Roy thought about telling Atkins to bother him later. But the way the man's silver eyes were earnestly searching his expression made him pause.

"It's about the Fullmetal Alchemist.". Atkins admitted.

Roy sighed, sitting down in the wheelchair and casting a glance over his shoulder. "If you run me into the wall, I'll fry you." he threatened hollowly.

Atkins smiled jovially. "It would be an honor to be barbecued by the renown Flame Alchemist.". Atkins quipped back.

They dove down a deserted hallway, Atkins parking Roy's wheelchair next to the janitor's closet.

"I looked through the file and read about the injuries. How is he?" Atkins asked seriously. "I stopped by his room to visit while you were out, he acted fine, but we both know he tends to keep things close to the vest. You don't know he needs help until he's drowning."

Roy sighed. "I know. I'm going to get him set up to talk to a professional back in Central about all this, so he can move past it. He seems alright, considering...".

"I wanted to know how you wanted the charges handled. They've confessed to everything- both of them. It was Dalilah- she was the one who inflicted the more... intimate injuries. She described it. In detail." Atkins looked a bit grim at the notion.

"They're both slated for execution. Both of them- all the murders they've committed have them slated for the soonest firing squad in Central. But technically, due to the nature of the confession, I could also have them charged with lewd conduct with a minor under the age of fifteen as well. If you wanted.".

Roy blinked. He hadn't thought about that.

Atkins frowned. "But doing that would take more time and probably push back the execution by another week. As it is, we've got to take statements from both kids about their kidnapping and attempted murder. And if we do get them for lewd conduct with a minor- well- everyone would know that it was Ed that she abused. It might affect his military career.".

It would add another charge to the laundry list of atrocities the maniac had committed. But if doing so would come at the cost of Ed's privacy, was it really worth it?

"All that does is push back the execution date and publicize the way they tortured him to the entire military. I don't want to sweep it under the rug or deny him justice, but the kid already wouldn't talk about it...".

Atkins nodded. "If it was the difference between convicting them and not, I'd agree. But considering the evidence- I'd just as soon execute them. I wanted to make sure you were on board, though- they messed with your kid, after all.".

Roy nodded. "By the way- I have some more documentation on the case to submit myself. It needs to be filed before the execution date is picked out.".

Atkins nodded. "I'll let you know and make sure it happens. The way the nurses are talking, you'll be stuck here for another few days before you go back to Central...".

Atkins had started wheeling him down the hallway, back towards his and Ed's hospital room.

"I'd appreciate it if you let me walk, you know." Roy was mildly annoyed. He was going to be delivered to his room instead of walking under his own power.

"Can't have you falling over and making a scene. That's just be more paperwork for me to fill out." Atkins supplied, sounding far too cheery as he rolled back into the hospital room.

Ed had been asleep when Roy went to talk to the doctors a little over an hour ago- it was their second day in the hospital, late morning, and Ed was sitting up in bed and saying something to Hawkeye, though he fell silent and turned to watch Atkins roll Mustang into the room.

"Look who I found wandering around the halls." he said smugly.

Ed frowned. "Where'd you go?".

"I had work to do." Roy lied smoothly as he stood, walking over to his own bed and laying down on it. "I'm still technically on this case, you know.".

"I can do paperwork too, you know." Ed sat up a bit straighter in bed, looking to Hawkeye.

"You're on bedrest. Both of you, until the doctors say you can leave."

"I gave them my statements, but I still have to write a report..."

"Don't worry about that now. You solved the entire case. Some of the investigators have been asking how you're doing, but I figured you guys weren't up to visitors. But Chelsea wanted to bring by dinner for you guys, she said hospital food sucks- what do you want for dinner?".

"Pizza?" Ed looked hopeful.

Atkins nodded. "You got it. Take it easy- we can deal with finalizing all the paper work when you're out of here.".

Ed seemed to cheer up slightly at the promise of pizza, settling back against his pillows.

"Do either of you want anything from the hotel room? I know your things are still there...".

"Briefcase, research journal on the desk, and shampoo." Ed rattled off hopefully.

"I just want a pair of pants." Roy hated hospital clothes. they were designed to give nurses and doctors easy access to every orfice in emergencies, but they made him feel unpleasantly exposed, even when they were tied up in the back.

Ed blinked. "Shit. I want pants too.".

Atkins looked confused. "You don't have pants in your briefcase?".

"No.".

"Then what do you keep in there?".

"Alchemy books and a can opener."

"...alright then. I will bring that to you guys with dinner tonight." Atkins promised, before he was saying his goodbyes and ducking out of the room.

"How long has he been up?" Roy asked Hawkeye when Atkins was gone, looking over at Ed.

Ed scowled slightly. "I've been up for like an hour, and I'm sick of this place." he announced.

"Ah, at least your bitter personality is still intact." Mustang teased lightly.

Ed sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back against his pillows. "I want to go home." he admitted, looking dangerously close to sulking.

"...and I want a hair cut..." he admitted, slightly quieter, bringing his bandaged hand up to rub at his unevenly cut blond locks in dismay.

"It doesn't look too bad." Hawkeye soothed.

"It's short. I hate short." Ed was looking self-conscious enough Roy didn't even point out his use of the dreaded word short.

"I know." Hawkeye reached out to run her fingers though Ed's hair, and Ed flinched away.

Riza pursed her lips together in a slight frown, but replaced her hand in her lap and kept talking anyways. "It will be fine, though.".

"You're gonna take me to the military barber guy, and he's gonna buzz it all off, isn't he? I'm gonna look like some stupid army recruit cueball and I'm gonna have a cold head.". Ed was staring at the sheets, and his hands had started to shake slightly- he looked so forlorn that Roy didn't even have the urge to laugh at his fear of becoming a brush-cut cueball army brat.

"No, they won't. We'll go to my hairdresser, and they'll even it out so it doesn't look sloppy and then you can grow it out again." Hawkeye promised.

"And if you hate it so much, you can always wear a hat. Your coat has a hood, even once we get back to Central you can wear a hat until it grows out. The military has caps, you know.".

Ed cocked his head, seeming to ponder this for a moment. A thought bubble appeared above his head- in it, a poorly drawn Edward Elric wore a red beret and a bright red sweater. Alphonse was in the background, holding onto a lot of croissants.

Ed shook his head slightly, and the thought bubble evaporated. "I'm gonna look stupid. I don't want a hat, it's not my style. I'm gonna look like a dork.".

Roy scoffed. "How is that different from always? Fullmetal- you run around the country in platform boots, leather pants and a red coat. That isn't exactly high fashion.".

Ed threw a pillow at Roy and flopped back on the mattress, placing the back of his hand over his forehead. "I look really cool. You're an old man, you don't get it.".

"Well, I was going to let you wear my military cap when we got out of here, but now I think I'll keep it." Roy said jokingly.

"I don't want your ratty ass military hat, old man. It's blue." Ed looked disgusted. "I'm not gonna run around in some blue hat and a red coat- they clash, I'd look like a little kid.".

"You're not even five feet tall, you already look like a kid."

"Take that back!"

"That's enough! Both of you." Hawkeye raised her voice slightly, and both men had the decency to look a little guilty.

Roy went and retrieved Ed's pillow from where he'd thrown it, fluffing it and setting it behind the teen.

"Now- we're going to sit here and be quiet and rest, because we have been injured and that is what hospitals are for. Understood?".

"But that's boring.".

"He's kind of right." Mustang admitted.

Hawkeye gave him the look.

Roy sighed. "Well- there isn't much to do here.".

Hawkeye looked thoughtful. She sighed, looking over at Ed. "If I take you down to the hospital gift shop to get something to keep yourself occupied, do you promise not to try and escape the hospital?"

Ed nodded, looking pleased at the idea.

Hawkeye nodded. "Alright. Let's go.".

"How come he gets to go to the gift shop but I don't?" Roy was sounding close to whining.

Hawkeye glowered. "Because you already snuck out of the room just now.".

"But I'm bored too, Hawkeye.".

"I will get you one thing from the giftshop, Colonel. What do you want?".

"A newspaper." he had to keep up on the political happenings if he was going to run this country someday.

Hawkeye nodded to Ed. "Alright then. Let's go get him one, Edward.".

Ten minutes ticked into fifteen, and fifteen to twenty- Roy was starting to get a bit worried around the half hour mark, but then Ed strutted back into the room, beaming and with the fire back in his golden eyes.

He was wearing a hat. A garish, bright red hat, that had flaps over his ears and a rather warm looking white lining.

"Here's your paper, bastard." Ed cheerfully handed him a newspaper, flopping down onto his own bed and pulling out a small book of sudoku puzzles.

Roy raised his eyebrows and looked at Hawkeye, then Ed's hat.

Hawkeye's eyes flashed, daring him to make a comment at the oddity of a hat on the boy's head, and Roy quickly looked away from her, deciding it was in his best interests to read his newspaper intently.

There was the scratching of the pen and turning of pages as Ed tore through the sudoku book, but slowly, the page turning became less frequent, and the scratch of the pen dulled down to nothing.

By noon, the boy was asleep on the bed, sudoku book lying in his lap, pen still in hand.

"He's asleep." Hawkeye announced quietly. Only when she was sure he was asleep did she move, gently unwinding the pen from his fingers and placing it on the nightstand, setting his book of puzzles beside it and pulling the blankets up to the boy's chin.

Ed sighed in his sleep, seeming to melt into the mattress. It was the most relaxed Roy had seen him in days. But he still couldn't get over the hat.

"Can I ask about the hat now?" he said seriously.

"He saw it in the gift shop and liked it." Hawkeye said simply, not looking up from Ed's peacefully sleeping face. She had a tender expression, almost motherly- Roy wondered for a moment if that was how she'd look at her own child, if they someday had one...

"It has earflaps." Roy pointed out. "It's... unique.".

"He said it keeps his head warm. It's still Spring, and it's chilly out. He feels better with it covering his hair. I think he's going to wear it until his hair grows out." Hawkeye admitted.

Roy sighed. "The kid says he doesn't wanna look like a dork, but then he goes and decides to buy a hat like that. It's like he's trying to give me ammo.".

Hawkeye gave him a look. It wasn't the look, but it was approaching it. "You will not tease him about this. You know how much his hair bothers him, if you or any of the men say a word to him about it..."

Roy put both hands up defensively. "I won't. You know I won't. But he looks kind of childish in it, and it's adorable, and it's kind of hard to associate an adorable kid in a dorky hat he picked out with the feared and renown Fullmetal Alchemist."

Hawkeye allowed herself a slight smile, looking down at Ed's sleeping form once again. "... I thought he looked cute in it, as well." she admitted. "And he was so excited they had one in red.".

"I'm sure he was. It will match his coat."

"Do you think he'll let me hug him again? I hate the way he flinches when I try to help him with things." Hawkeye admitted, and Roy's mouth went dry.

"He was assaulted by a woman. The stitches on his thigh are from bite marks. I'm sure he'll get used to you, but he'll need time..."

Riza's hands, which had been resting on her thighs, clenched into fists, but she took a breath to steady herself and nodded.

"Tell me- do all little boys have such a terrible sense of style, or is it just him? I don't remember dressing like that when I was his age.". Roy changed the subject.

Riza allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. "You always wore socks that didn't match. I started doing your laundry so you'd look more respectable.".

"Ah, the socks, I thought I'd heard the last of that." Roy reminisced.

Riza quirked an eyebrow. "The time you tried to take me to the ball with a pinstriped suit coat and red and white polka dot pants?".

Roy frowned. "I saw it in a magazine, I thought it was in style. The look of horror on your face is what made me start wearing solid colored clothes, you know.".

Her hands had relaxed from their fists on her lap, and he leaned over the bedrail, taking her smaller hand in his own and giving it a squeeze.

"He'll be alright, you know." he said seriously, glancing at Ed.

"He never had a mother to help him pick out his clothes when he got bigger." Riza admitted with a frown. "I think that's why he has such an odd sense of style.".

Roy gave her hand a squeeze.

"Well, he has plenty of people to help him now."

Chapter 24: Unspoken

Summary:

So- it turns out I've actually been writing Royai this whole time. I played myself. But I am totally DIGGING the found family vibes, and this fic has turned into a pleasant venture into family territory, and I am not at all ashamed.

Notes:

Only one or so chapters left to go.

I got a few more stories lined up in this series, and then another fic altogether planned independent from this little "Ed-can-see-dead-people" universe. But right now I'm finishing up my project for grad school so after this story, I will probably take a brief break until after January or February or so.

"Good riddance West City." Ed remarked happily as he plopped down on the bench of their train compartment beside Mustang, looking pleased with himself.

Roy stifled a sigh, but he had to agree.

Outside their compartment, four blue-clad soldiers walked by briskly.

"I take it you won't want to come back here on vacation, Edward?" Hawkeye joked warmly.

"Ha, no." Ed remarked. "It'll be good to get back to Central. Al's waiting for me." I have a promise to keep. the last part was unspoken, but both adults understood it as Ed turned to look out the train window at the gray, overcast city. The spring chill was still in the air, and it was damp out- rain was threatening to fall.

Ed tugged absently on the earflaps of his red hat, and Hawkeye smiled warmly at him.

"Edward- are you ever going to tell Alphonse? About what you do for the military, what you see?" Hawkeye ventured quietly.

Ed looked over at her, gold eyes bewildered. "No. It's irrelevant. Al has enough problems because of me, he doesn't need one more. This stuff doesn't come up often, anyways, thankfully there aren't a lot of... people... in these situations. And even if there is, we don't exactly advertise I'm a freakshow."

"While you may be a dwarf, I promise I will not let the circus take you, Fullmetal." Roy quipped with a grin, and Ed turned around and growled at him.

"You know what I mean!"

"It's not a burden, Edward. Alphonse might want to know- after all, wouldn't you want him to tell you if something like this happened to him?"

"No." Ed's voice was barely above a whisper. "No, I wouldn't. Because it would be one more thing I wouldn't be able to fix." he was looking in front of himself and not really seeing, and he frowned. "Besides... what if he can see them too? It's bad enough he is the way he is, but I don't think he's... like me. And I don't want him to be. I don't think this will ever go away. I might be able to fix his body, but to curse him with this- I can't fix it.".

Hawkeye blinked, raising her eyebrows. "You mean- you weren't born with this? I assumed you were just paranormally sensitive, like a psychic.".

"No. I wasn't born like this." Ed looked sorrowful. "Hawkeye- when someone tries to commit the ultimate taboo, they pay the price. I watched. I watched those black hands take Al, I heard him screaming for me- I tried to grab his hand, but there was nothing left, he was gone- and then I was gone, too. Completely disassembled and reassembled in a minute. Soul and body separated to their very components. I saw everything for a minute- the universe, heaven, hell- and then I was back. Northing to stop the bleeding but Al's empty clothes." Edward admitted.

Hawkeye's eyes had gone wide. "Are you talkng about...?".

"Yeah. My basement." Ed nodded the affirmative. "That's when it happened, I think. Red explained it to me once- every person is like a bottle, a vessel for their soul- normally, the bottle stays closed. But me- I've been disassembled and reassembled, and my soul- it slips out sometimes, I guess.".

The train whistle blew, signaling last call.

Hawkeye looked disturbed, pursing her lips, before she finally spoke.

"My father was an alchemist, Edward.".

"Oh? He was?" this time, it was Ed's turn to look surprised.

Hawkeye nodded. "He never taught me much, but I saw his books once, and he had some notes... that you might find interesting. I was never allowed to look at them, he caught me once and was very angry- he trusted them to his apprentice, and I never saw them again, but I think maybe he'd give them to you...".

Mustang glanced over at Hawkeye, surprised. Her father's alchemy- the tattoo he'd burned off her back- was always a sore subject. But hawkeye folded her hands in her lap and kept talking.

"He slaved over it for years, it nearly drove him insane before he realized it was impossible. He wanted to bring back my mother.".

Ed's eyes had softened slightly, and he was staring down at his boots.

"Just the notes about his theory of human transmutation, though. Nothing else." Hawkeye looked up to meet his gaze, and Roy realized what she was confirming. There will not be another flame alchemist.

He raised his chin in a nearly imperceptible nod.

Two more soldiers walked by the door of their compartment, and the train jolted forward, moving out of the station.

"We shouldn't discuss this here. If we want to talk about it more we can wait until we get back to the office." Roy spoke quietly.

Ed nodded, sitting back against the train seat with a sigh.

he kicked his feet up, leaning so his back was against Mustang's side.

"Four more hours and we're home." he admitted, sounding relieved, as he stifled a yawn.

'"Something like that. You might as well sleep, I doubt there's going to be anything more productive to do in this train ride." Roy admitted.

"Don't tell me... what to do, old man." Ed spoke softly but with no real bite. The train was picking up speed now, settling into a usual rhythm, and he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against Roy's side. Within a half an hour, he was asleep.

Hawkeye frowned at him. "Your shoulder is hurt. Should you really let him lean on you like that?". his arm was still in a sling, and Ed was leanign against the same side as his injured arm.

"It's fine." Roy brushed her off. though when the train hit a bump, He grit his teeth, and moved to gently shift Edward so his head was laying against his thigh.

"Think you could go grab us something to drink?".

"No coffee. You'd do well to get some sleep as well, Sir.".

"Alright, no coffee. Just something warm. It's so damp and cold out west." Roy agreed.

Hawkeye ducked out and headed to the dining car, coming back with two steaming mugs of something and looking disturbed.

"What? They out of decaf?" Roy joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Riza handed him his mug and shook her head, shutting the compartment door behind her.

"Surely you noticed the soldiers onboard earlier?".

Roy took a sip from his mug, idly wondering what it was he was actually drinking. After his first taste, he realized it was hot chocolate. Nice.

"They're always transferring someone somewhere or other. Hard not to find a train with a soldier on it nowadays.".

"They're on the train. Both of them are in military police custody and they're being transferred to Central."

"They?" Roy blinked, straightening up from where he was sitting, eyes widening.

"No.. you're kidding..."

"I wish I was, Sir." Hawkeye admitted grimly.

Because Daliah and Leo Davis were in police custody and being transported back to Central on the same train they were on.

Just as soon as Roy's body had tensed, he looked down at the sleeping Ed- head still resting in his lap- and relaxed. His concerned expression melted into one of a practiced calm and neutrality suitable for a military colonel.

"It doesn't matter." he said serenely.

"Don't you think Ed would be nervous if he knew?"

Roy sighed. "I'm not sure. And that's why he doesn't need to know they're on this train. Last time they did everything to him, he was on his own. I'm here now- so it doesn't matter. Because I'm present, nothing will happen to Ed. It's that simple."

Roy withdrew his hand from his pocket, and Hawkeye realized he'd discretely put on his gloves as he was speaking. Ed's red ear-flap hat had fallen off, and he ran his gloved fingers through the short, unevenly cropped blond head of hair in his lap.

Ed huffed a sigh in his sleep and turned, burying his face in Roy's uniformed side.

Roy bent down, picking up Ed's discarded hat and stuffing it in his opposite pocket, his other gloved hand resting on Ed's back. He'd abandoned his sling in favor of just moving his injured shoulder gingerly. The boy was stretched across the train bench, laid on his side, face nuzzled into Roy's side and head on the man's thigh, completely at ease, and he was in a perfect position to keep the kid from falling if the train were to hit any harsh bumps in the road.

"I can keep watch for trouble if you want to rest, Sir." Hawkeye offered.

"No need. I won't be sleeping, Lieutenant.". Not after the intel you just gave me. remained unspoken, but it was understood all the same.

Hawkeye sighed. "Maybe I should have kept that information to myself so you would rest as well, Sir.".

Roy raised his eyebrows. "Nonsense. There's a reason I picked you as my Lieutenant, and it isn't so you can keep valuable intel from me. I chose you because I know I can trust you to watch my back." he sounded slightly annoyed.

"So you trust me to watch your back, but not enough to rest and watch out for the both of you?" Hawkeye said, calmly reloading her pistol with a fresh magazine.

Roy's face fell. "You were baiting me. This whole time, to just try and get me to let you keep watch and let me sleep.".

"Very astute, Sir.". Hawkeye looked up, giving him a small smile.

Roy groaned. "And Ed says I'm manipulative.".

"You're doing an awful lot of talking for someone who should be getting a nap, Sir.".

"But I need to keep watch over Ed!"

"Good luck doing that when you're exhausted and sick. You take care of Ed, now let me take care of you so you can take care of Ed.".

Roy sighed, gesturing at her with an outstretched palm like she'd cut him off in traffic. "There you go again, with your logic and feminine wiles.".

"What was that, Sir?" Hawkeye cocked her gun, looking unamused.

"I... um, I was just saying I think I'll be taking a short cat nap. And to please wake me up if anything else happens or in three hours. I'd like to be awake when we pull into Central. I do like to see the skyline.".

"Of course, Sir." Hawkeye nodded, a glimmer in her eye stating that she approved of his decision.

Roy sighed, clumsily running his left hand through his hair and pausing, looking down at Ed.

The boy was still dead asleep without a care in the world.

He gingerly moved his right hand and injured shoulder, tenderly trailing his gloved fingers down Ed's cheeks.

Ed hummed- the familiar feeling of ignition cloth on his skin was a familiar sensation at this point, he'd been around Mustang long enough, and to Roy's surprise, Ed fumbled blindly in his sleep, catching Roy's gloved hand in his own and tucking it beneath his head, resting his cheek on Roy's open palm.

"Huh. Never seen him do that. The cloth is pretty rough, it can't be comfortable. In fact, I've never seen anyone so comfortable around my ignition gloves except for you..." Roy admitted, looking over at Hawkeye in a rare moment of raw trust and curiosity.

Hawkeye swallowed- her mouth was suddenly dry, heart starting to gallop. "He trusts you like a father. He loves you, you know.".

"I know." I love him too. remained unspoken, but she heard it all the same, in the way Roy's gaze lingered on the sleeping boy before focusing in on her, saying more than he ever could aloud.

I love you, as well.

Hawkeye felt a blush coming to her cheeks, and she chuckled slightly. "What an odd little family we have, Sir.".

Roy smiled. "Quite. But I'm particularly fond of it, myself. I'm going to invite them both to stay with me, you know. Ed and Al. Once we get back to Central."

Hawkeye nodded her approval.

He sighed, settling back against his seat. "Wake me before we hit Central?".

"Of course, Sir.".

 

Notes:

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE PART OF THIS CHAPTER?

I appreciate any and all REVIEWS!

Chapter 25: Persistence is Key

We're almost to the end now. One more chapter. I ahd 10000 ideas for FMA fic I want to write and I may do an endnote directing you ton my next few works in progress, we'll see how it goes.

A firm hand was squeezing his shoulder what felt like only minutes later.

"Sir- we're approaching Central."

"Hmmm?" He blinked owlishly- there was a weight leaning on him, a small form nestled into his side, pressed into his body heat despite the damp weather...

"We'll be arriving in Central soon, Sir." Hawkeye repeated patiently, reaching up and smoothing down some of his hair that'd decided to stick out at an odd angle and grabbing his black military cap from where it rested on the train seat, placing it atop his heat neatly.

"Ah- I see" He straightened up pulling his shoulders back and stretching as much as he could without disturbing Fullmetal, who was still passed out cold in his lap.

He watched the skyline grow larger and larger.

Hawkeye looked down at Ed tenderly, looking rueful. "We should wake him. I have a feeling his brother's going to be waiting for him in the station. He'll worry if he looks a mess.".

"I suppose you're right." Roy looked down at Ed for a long moment before placing a hand on his flesh shoulder. "Ed. Wake up, kid."

"Mmmmm?" Ed pulled back from where his face was buried in Mustang's side, eyes bronze with sleepiness.

"We're almost to the station, Edward. Your brother will be waiting.".

"Oh." Ed sat up, hunching over and scrubbing at his face with his hands, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Roy smiled slightly at the childish action, handing Edward his strange red earflap hat.

Ed made a noise of pleasure, tugging it on eagerly as he looked out the window, taking on a surprisingly relaxed demeanor as he watched the city grow closer and closer.

He straightened as they pulled to a stop in the station, smiling and waving when He saw Al standing on the platform beside Havoc, waving a large gauntlet at him excitedly. He'd missed his brother. He never realized how lonely it was without his brother- his eternal companion- until he was absent, and it made him feel warm inside to see him again.

Havoc stood dwarfed by the large form of Alphonse, smoking a cigarettes, and Falman was with him as well.

Despite everything they'd been through, Ed managed to have spring in his step as he got off the train, jogging over to Al.

"Brother!" Al clanked over excitedly, and Ed beamed, rapping his knuckles on his brother's chestplate as a way of greeting.

"What on earth is on your head?" Al asked, cocking his helmet curiously.

"A kickass hat. It's called fashion, Alphonse."

"It's a monstrosity." Al deadpanned. Beside him, Havoc sniggered, but instantly fell silent as Roy gave him a frigid look.

"What happened to your hair, Brother?".

"I decided to get a haircut in West City, reinvent myself. It didn't go well. It's horrible. But Hawkeye said her hairdresser can fix me up, and until then, I'm wearing this to keep my ears warm." Ed spoke easily with false cheer.

"You haven't cut your hair since you were five, Ed. And you're all beat up again." Al sounded wary.

Ed sighed. "Okay, yeah, you caught me. I kind of got some of my hair chopped off in a fight, but I'm fine! It's just kind of messy, so I'm wearing the hat because it's cool! Don't make fun of it, okay? It matches my coat." Ed managed to brighten some.

Havoc had put out his cigarettes and was giving Roy a side-eye. Roy raised his chin imperceptibly- he'd brief the team about West City at some point, but he might leave out the more sensitive details of Ed's abduction, that was Ed's choice to share or not...

"I found new books. Oh- by the way, the dorms are full- some big military thing is happening..." Al spoke happily.

"Attention!" Roy stiffened at the shout of a Sargent at the rear of the train, a good forty feet away on the platform.

Al chattered on, none the wiser, as two-dozen blue clad soldiers bearing rifles lined up across from one another and chains clanked- two horribly injured figures in chains shambling down from the rear car onto the platform.

Roy had taken five steps backwards. He knew they were just doing a routine prisoner transfer, but still, he wanted himself between Davidson, Daliah and Ed.

Hawkeye had her hand resting on her right hip- the way her weight was shifted it just looked as though she were watching the conversation, but he knew her pistol was seconds away from being in her hand if it needed to be.

Falman watched the grim procession of shackled military prisoners leave the station solemnly. The brothers talked for a few more minutes, catching up, none the wiser.

Finally, Hawkeye spoke up. "Boys- it's pretty chilly out here, how about you catch up more at the office or the dorms?".

"Didn't you hear? The dorms are full, Lieutenant. Some big military function is happening. It doesn't bother me, because I... well, I'm at the library a lot, but we may have to get a hotel for you, Ed..."

"Might as well just stay with me, Fullmetal. I'm sure the military presence will thin out in a few days- there's no point running around getting a hotel. You know where the guest room is.".

"Alright. You have some decent books, too, I guess." Ed agreed without much fight, surprising Al, who looked slightly pleased at the idea.

"Alright. Thank you, Colonel!". They'd started to walk towards the cars and go back to the office.

One thing he didn't miss about field work was the backlog of work that gathered up in his absence. But for once, he applied himself, working through as much as possible for the afternoon. He only stopped top place a call around half past three.

"Hughes. how are those arrangements coming?"

"Everything's approved. I'll drop by the forms before I go tonight. I assume you're staying late, right?".

"Yeah, it's looking like it. But don't be too late- Fullmetal and his brother are with me, the dorms are full, and we're both gassed from the train ride.".

"Oh, Ed and Al are staying with you?" Hughes pupils had become heart shaped, and the seriousness from before was absent from his voice as he twirled the phone cord around his finger. "Sounds like you're pretty much adopting him! All you need to do now is marry Hawkeye and you'll have a ready-made family, no alchemy required! You know what my Elicia drew for me yesterday, she drew a spider, or an octopus- I'm no really sure, but she's a prodigy, she's only two! Can you believe-" Roy slammed the phone back onto the received, scoffing as his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

As he spoke, Al chatted with Ed had he threw himself into his own work, alphabetizing papers and helping Ed organize his work as he hurried to get caught up.

"You sure agreed to stay with the Colonel pretty easily, Ed. You didn't even put up a fight."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I stayed there once before. You were in Resembool, it was part of the other case..." Ed admitted absently, skimming a paper and signing it, stamping it with his seal. "File that with the Bs, okay?".

"Okay! It will be nice to stay with the Colonel for a little while. Is he strict?".

Ed scoffed. "He's a Bastard as usual. But the bed is soft and he has a decent library. Say- can you get me an apple or something from the cafeteria-" Ed's pen scratched across the paper as he spoke "I'm starving, but I'm swamped here, not going to be able to leave for awhile."

"Sure thing, brother." Al smiled, wondering how Colonel Mustang decorated his house.

A moment later a private came into the room with a stack of forms, snapping off a salute and standing in front of Mustang's desk at attention.

"At ease." Mustang grunted, not really interested.

"I have forms for you from Lieutenant Hughes, Sir, regarding the exe-"

"Event? You mean the event occurring tomorrow, right, Private?" Hawkeye interrupted, eyes steely. She peered behind him- Ed hadn't looked like he noticed the private or his conversation. He didn't need to know

"I- um, Yes, Ma'am. Lieutenant Hughes sent them over with me, he wanted to go home early and have dinner with his wife...".

"Of course he did." Roy muttered.

"The Colonel is very busy at the moment. I'll take the forms. Dismissed, private."

"Er- Ma'am! Sir!" The private, clearly thrown off kilter, snapped off two salutes before leaving.

"Fullmetal. Go eat something in the cafeteria."

"Huh?" Ed's red hat popped up from amidst his stacks of paperwork, loking baffled. "Are you serious? Look at all the stuff I have to do. I haven't even started the report on West City, and you want me to-"

"Did I stutter, Fullmetal? I have doctors orders from West City saying you're on light duty and aren't cleared unless you eat and rest regularly. Now go eat. That's an order.".

Ed blinked, looking mildly annoyed at being told what to do, before he realized he was getting a break. "Fine, but don't blame me if the report isn;'t on your desk until tomorrow.".

"I won't." Mustang said, watching the boy over his steepled fingers as he ducked out of the office and waiting a few moments.

They waited five minutes to be sure Ed was gone before Roy cleared his throat.

"I'm sure you've all heard from the preliminary reports and radio traffic- yes, Furey, I know you like to eavesdrop-" Roy spoke up, and Furey blushed slightly and shrank back "About what happened in West City. The killer was our own man- a Sergeant in the Investigations Squad of West City. He grabbed Fullmetal right out form under us- the kid never saw it coming. I never saw it coming. Bastard had us running in circles for far too long before we managed to find him. I only mention this because Hughes has dropped off extra forms for the event happening tomorrow, and Hawkeye, Hughes and I will all be participating."

"I'm not requiring anyone to participate. It's quite a clinical process, but I'm not going to deny anyone the chance who also wants to join. The choice is yours. However, Fullmetal is not to be told. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, Sir. Lieutenant- can I have one of those forms, please?" Havoc asked.

"I'll take one too." Breda added.

Furey looked hesitant, before nodding. "Me too.".

"I'll have one as well, please." Falman stated matter of factly.

"No one has to if they don't want to." Roy clarified.

"I listened to the radio chatter. I heard what happened on the bridge. I want to." Furey didn't look at all undecided as he signed the paper.

Roy nodded, satisfied by his resolve. "Report the the armory at six am tomorrow.".

---

"Man, I thought that day would never end-" Ed admitted that night, when they turned onto Roy's street. Alphonse was taking up the back seat and holding his satchel of library books, and Ed sat shotgun. He grinned, turning behind him to look at Al. "Now you can get me up to speed on your research and we can make some progress!".

"Don't stay up all night. You still have work tomorrow." Roy chided.

"I'll be in bed by eleven. I have to do some research tonight, I can't be slacking off- right, Al?"

"I can catch you up in an hour or so, brother, and then you can get some sleep." Al promised as they pulled into the driveway.

Roy unlocked the door, striding into the small hallway- the small kitchen was to the left, the couch, recliner, and fireplace of the living room to his left, and teh staircase straight ahead.

Ed sighed, kicking off his boots and tossing his suitcase onto the couch as he went by and heading straight for the stairs.

"C'mon, Al- our room is up here...".

"Alright...".

Roy watched the massive hulking form of armor gingerly mount his staircase- it was large enough for most people, but Al was quite wide. Roy was always surprised at how nimble and aware of his size he was, managing to get upstairs without scratching the walls or getting stuck.

He sighed, hanging his coat on the coat rack and heading towards the kitchen only to trip on Ed's discarded boots and nearly fall.

He managed not to fall onto his face, and as he looked at the discarded boots and suitcase tossed haphazardly on his cough, he couldn't help but feel a flutter that was anything but annoyance. He barked a laugh. Edward sure had made himself at home here.

What was it Ed had said when he'd walked in? Our room is up here...

Roy sighed, realizing as he heard the muffled voices and heavy footsteps from upstairs that he honestly didn't made the company. In truth, he was just glad Ed had a place to feel comfortable in- even if the kid did make a trail of discarded boots and suitcases behind him.

He went into the kitchen, pouring himself a small glass of scotch- just a small one, a reward for not having Hawkeye pull her gun on him at all today.

He grabbed a few boxes of mac and cheese from the cabinet, leaving them in plain sight on the table. Ed knew where everything was by now and could cook if he was hungry.

He grabbed the latest issue of alchemy research journal the Central Association published and his glass, heading for his recliner.

His phone rang.

He sighed, picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Roy! You get those forms?" Hughes chattered easily across the line.

"Yeah, I got them,. And the extra copies, too." he admitted, though secretly, he was proud his team was a united front on the matter.

"I figured they'd come in handy. Anyways, it's a little after eight- we just gave Elicia a bath and put her to bed. You should see about getting your kids to bed too, you know- they say adolescence is the most rapid period of growth besides infancy. Teenagers need their sleep to develop properly. Say, did you give them dinner yet?".

"Ed grabbed like three sandwiches from the cafeteria on the way out. And I left mac and cheese on the table, the kid knows how to use a stove.". He was getting tired of this lecture. He was at home, he just wanted to relax.

"That's harsh and cold, Roy. Mealtimes are important for family bonding! You need to talk about how their days went...".

"Considering I spent all day with them, I already know." He glanced at the table- he really wanted his glass of scotch and his alchemy journal on the table. He just wanted to relax.

"I'm serious, Roy, you need to build mutual trust and communication! It's an important part of family bonding! I have this parenting book here, I found a page that reminded me of you. Let me read it to you, I have it right here...".

"Don't tell me how to raise my kids, dammit.". Roy's annoyance bubbled over, and he hung up the phone. Unless that book had a chapter on how to talk to your son who was made out of metal about puberty or how to determine if his cranky teenager was doing his automail maintenance properly, he didn't want to hear it. He sighed, grabbing his glass and research article and heading for the recliner.

---

At the Hughes residence, Maes Hughes was wearing sky blue pajamas with elephants on them and a matching night cap with a pom-pom on it.

He laid next to his beautiful Gracia in her blush nightgown, warm and cozy under the covered. She was reading a book and he'd been chatting on the phone.

He stared at the phone receiver and listened to the dial tone, eyes wide.

"Holy shit."

"Did he hang up on you again, dear?" Gracia asked idly, turning a page.

"He sure did! But you won't believe it- he said 'don't tell me how to raise my kids!' and then he hung up. He said they were his! I've done it, honey! I've made him a Dad!" Hughes looked ecstatic. "My patience and encouragement has paid off!".

"Or perhaps you just wore him down, like sandpaper, with your constant badgering." Gracia spoke with a small smile, turning another page in his book.

"Hey!" Hughes looked hurt at her insinuation. "Are you saying I'm grating and annoying like sand paper?"

"Not at all, dear. I find your persistence charming." She gave Hughes a dazzling smile, eyes dancing as she teased him.

Hughes eyes had gone warm and soft as he looked over at his wife, and he grinned, plucking her bok from her hands and tossing it to the side, turning out the light.

"Come here, you little minx!" He purred, wrapping his arms around her as she laughed. "I'll show you who's grating and annoying! And maybe, just maybe- my persistence will pay off?".

Gracia giggled. "Yes, I think it will tonight, honey." she admitted, as he pressed himself closer to her in the darkness.

"Oh boy! Man, I'm the luckiest man in the world.".

What was your favorite part?

Chapter 26: Finale

Without further ado, the final chapter!

It was a lottery system. Names drawn from a hat from those who volunteered. Because of his rank and role in the case, Colonel Mustang's name on the top of the roster was no surprise to anyone. Even the names beneath it were familiar- the first being Maes Hughes and the next being Leutienant Colonel Andrew Atkins.

Roy was somewhat surprised to see the name, even more so when the dark haired man swept into the conference room dressed in full military blues.

"Morning, Colonel." the man remarked calmly, sipping a Styrofoam cup of coffee and sliding into an empty seat.

"Didn't think I'd see you all the way out here." Roy admitted finally.

"I came to put this thing to bed. I assume you want the same. How's Edward?".

Roy hesitated at the question. While he had grown a working relationship with the man, Andrew Atkins was part of Special Investigations- if he saw Alphonse, he might be able to deduce the boy way hollow.

"As well as can be expected. He's glad to be back home with his brother. I'd prefer you didn't visit him. He doesn't exactly know the conclusion.".

Atkins looked surprised. "He doesn't know?".

Roy shook his head. "And we don't plan on telling him. He doesn't need to know- it would keep him up at night, even if they are monsters. He has a younger brother to take care of- he doesn't need the weight of this.".

"I understand." The rest of the squadron selected- Furey, Falman, and Hawkeye, and a soldier from investigations Roy didn't recognize, had filed into the office as well.

They filed out onto the parade grounds, lining up across from one another. Each man was handed a loaded rifle- though whether it was loaded with a blank or a live round was unknown to the recipient.

"Attention!" barked General Gruman's attnedant. The general himself leaned on his cane, umbrella open, watching the proceedings.

Every soldier snapped to attention. It was before seven am, an overcast, foggy day.

"Forward March!".

It took twenty two steps to reach the corner of the cement building.

"Right turn!"

As one, the line of soldiers turned the corner, coming face to face with their targets.

Ten feet away, Daliah Davidson stood, blindfolded and gagged in baggy gray clothes. Beside her, her brother stood, red faced and trembling, trying ferociously to spit out his gag. They both had their hands bound in front of them.

"Ready! Aim!"

There were soldiers on either side of the wall, ready to shoot them down if they tried to run for it.

Daliah was shaking like a newborn fawn, and her brother fought furiously with his own bonds, his muffled shouts swallowed up by his gag.

Thunder crashed overhead.

"Fire!".

Roy Mustang felt the satisfying recoil of the rifle into the crotch of his shoulder. It pleased him in a sadistic way, knowing his rifle hadn't contained a blank.

The fire of guns in unison was insignificant compared to the thunderclap that'd preceded it.

Flesh hit concrete, bodies falling to the ground like bizarre meat puppets with the strings cut.

The sky opened up, thick raindrops mixing with the blood pooling on the concrete.

Ironic, really. The sky was the only thing crying for these twisted killers.

Roy Mustang followed the commands barked by the General's Assistant on autopilot, marching back and handing in his rifle with the other men.

They were dismissed- it was slightly after seven in the morning, and the whole process had been clinical and quick- it had hardly taken ten minutes.

Mustang's team fell in around him. Roy looked at Furey in particular- the man was a brilliant Sergeant, but had a soft heart. And evne the men who hadn't been picked via the lottery system had still come to watch.

"Doing okay, Sergeant?".

Furey nodded. His hands weren't even shaky, which was normally his tell. "Fine, Sir. It wasn't hard. Pulling the trigger. Though I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.".

"It's a good thing." Havoc lit up a cigarette, shielding it from the rain with the brim of his cap and his hands. "They weren't people. They were animals. You saw what they did to the Chief. Read about the others.".

Roy couldn't disagree.

And so they plodded through the downpour in silence, headed towards the office.

The light was on when they got there, a familiar voice arguing.

"You shouldn't put your feet up on your desk like that, brother. It's disrespectful." a familiar voice echoed.

"Disrespectful to who? The desk doesn't have feelings, Alphonse. Besides, everyone else is late- I'm the ranking officer in here right now. I can do what I want. How's the coffee coming, anyways? Damn rain.".

Havoc grinned, striding into the office first and taking off his cap, shaking out his hair and taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Morning, ranking officer." he gibed at Ed with a grin.

Ed blushed slightly, looking away. "You guys are all late, you know. Especially you, Bastard. You left the house before us and still were late.".

"Yes, I am aware, Fullmetal. But I am now the ranking officer, so I don't care." Roy remarked with a smirk, shaking the rain from his hair. "And as I recall, the door is usually locked until I get here.".

"Did you pick the lock, Chief?" Breda asked, looking amused.

"No I did not!" Ed said defensively.

Falman paused in the doorway. "Judging by the footprint in the door, I would surmise it was kicked open. Am I correct?" he turned to look at Ed expectantly.

Ed narrowed his eyes. "...maybe..." he admitted.

"Don't mind him, he's just grumpy because he hasn't had his coffee yet." Al said happily.

"You're taking forever to make it!" Ed complained.

Alphonse produced a scone seemingly from nowhere and stuffed it into Ed's mouth, effectively silencing his brother and pouring a mug of steaming coffee for him.

"I made vanilla medium roast, if anyone else wants some." Alphonse offered good naturedly.

Soon enough the cups were passed around and everyone settled into their morning routine.

Alphonse reading alchemy texts quietly, pointing out a passage to his brother every now and then, who gave his input when he had a moment to spare from his own work.

As Roy watched the boys pour over the books together, he couldn't help the strange warm feeling that was blooming in his chest.

He still remembered the feeling of his heart dropping to his boots when they'd realized Ed had been taken. The pure panic in the thought that the boy and Savannah were missing, tortured, possibly already dead- that time was running out, might have already run out, and that he wouldn't be able to get the boy back.

"Do you think it's there? It's a really remote town, there might be something..." Alphonse was saying.

Ed said nothing, turning a page in the book as he feverishly read on.

Roy's musings were broken as Hawkeye set a rather large stack of papers on his desk with a thump.

"Slacking off again, Sir?" she asked, amused.

Roy gave her a wry smile. "Something like that, Lieutenant." he raised his chin slightly at the two boys, pouring over the book together. It was such a mundane, everyday occurrence in the office, but being able to have it after everything that'd happened was a balm for his soul, a relief from the nightmares where he woke up thinking the boy was still missing.

"...if we go there, we have to stop here as well. I heard rumors about a guy with no legs that saw something really weird in one of the mines..." Ed was pointing to a map in the book, sketching something absently as he spoke.

"Don't daydream for too long, Sir. You have a country to run."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Lieutenant." Roy assured her with a suave smile, and she had to look away so he didn't see her blush.

"...a chimera?" Al looked surprised, and Roy was back to watching the brothers in the midst of conversation.

"No, not a Chimera! It's just a super old tortoise with a red stone in it's shell." Ed was shoving an open book towards Alphonse, now.

"Don't you think someone would have caught it by now if it were real? I mean, it's not like it could run away. It's a tortoise.".

"Nobody hangs out in the old magma tunnels in the desert except for this old ass tortoise! So of course nobody has caught it. Do you want to stay here forever or chase leads?".

Roy shook his head and chuckled, picking up his pen and getting back to work.

Things were as they should be. And for once, he was glad for the age old routine.

Well, that's it for this fic. But not to worry my small drawer of spoons, for I have plans! I have like 6 chapters for 2 stories in my doc manager that I'm gonna get around to editing at some point and posting (probably within the next month idk).

Fic 1- Unbreakable Alchemist- in which Hoenheim shows up and wants to be a part of Ed and Al's life, but eveyrthing isn't what it seems. Team Mustang (mostly Mustang) has to work hard to save Ed from a dangerous situation. And even when it's over, the trauma is real. Parental Roy Mustang fic.

Fic 2- Do I even need these organs? A medical mystery fic with lots of worried parental Roy and a sick Edward who decides not to tell anyone when he suddenly starts peeing blood because he thinks it's fine lol. A lot of hovering worried Roy and also a super sick Edward. Bonus points if you can guess the illness in this medical drama mystery.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Mysterious Shit