A/U- Finally, an update! Don't worry guys, I haven't forgotten about this just yet. Although this chapter is a little slow, I did spice it up a little bit near the end with some humor, so it's not all sadness and death! Woohoo! [That, and this chapter is over 1100 words longer than any other chapters yet!]
If you have any suggestions, please post it in a review! I love suggestions, and I will do my best to incorporate your ideas into my writing.
ALSO- I am still looking for another beta reader! Dylexa is a really awesome beta, but hey, I think two opinions are better than one, right? So, if you are interested in becoming a beta reader for Nevermore, either PM me or write in a review. [by the way- a beta reader is someone who reads the chapters before they are published, and they edit out grammatical errors and often contribute ideas for the story line. They help out immensely!]
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. We all know a certain lovely cow owns Fullmetal.. *bows down to the almighty Hiromu Arakawa*
Troops of soldiers were sent in all directions of Central, blocking any means of leaving. The city was under lockdown; nobody was allowed to enter or leave Central. The normally bustling and lively streets were now tense with a ghostly silence. It seemed that even the stray dogs knew to keep their muzzles shut.
Everyone knew about the death of Fuhrer Grumman. The cheerful old man that still had a strong ambition despite his age, who refused to let such a stereotypical trait affect who he was, was dead. He had been murdered in cold blood, and the assassin himself had left no trace. No fingerprints, no survivors, nothing. He knew what he was doing.
Only one person had seen the assassin. But his claims of the identity of said person were impossible, for that person was dead. They had his body.
"Colonel Mustang, just listen to me! I saw him! It was Brother! He was standing in the windowsill, then he jumped!" Alphonse persisted, eyes wide with distress. He'd been telling everyone he could that he had seen Ed, but nobody listened. They just gave him sympathetic looks and gently told him that Ed was dead.
Alphonse knew his brother when he saw him. He knew that his brother wasn't dead, that it was impossible; Ed would never let himself be killed. He was just too stubborn for that. He'd make a deal with the Truth to come back. He'd lose another limb, an organ, anything if it meant keeping his little brother happy.
Colonel Mustang looked at him. It was clear he was getting fed up with this. "Al, how many times do we have to tell you? Fullmetal was killed. It wasn't him that you saw, if you saw anyone. And nobody could have just vanished after jumping out of a seventh-story window. It's just not possible." He growled, turning back to his overwhelmingly large amount of paperwork.
Alphonse turned away. Was it true? That he hadn't seen anyone? Was he just going insane because his brother was killed? Was his mind rejecting the very thought? Alphonse was losing faith in himself; nobody believed him. He was even starting to doubt himself now.
No. He had seen Ed. He'd seen the silhouette, framed ominously against the sun. The heavy boots, the long coat, and, yes, even his shortness. His head tilted slightly, looking over his shoulder, golden eyes staring back at him with no emotion whatsoever. Then he turned, jumped off the windowsill, coat spreading out around him as he disappeared from view. Then the blue electricity flickering over the ground directly below, signaling that a transmutation had just closed the earth over him.
Alphonse's determination to prove that Ed was alive returned to him, and he needed to find his brother.
He had quite a few questions for him.
Ed returned to the basement that he now called home. His movements were sluggish, filled with exhaustion. He climbed out of the tunnel, clapped his hands together, and placed his palms on the ground next to the entrance. The tunnel flickered with blue light, and in the next moment, it was completely sealed.
He got up and staggered over to his bed, then let himself fall face-first onto the pillow.
"Unghh." He groaned, rolling the rest of himself onto the mattress. His eyes closed drowsily. Lazily, he just remembered to take off his mask, so he slapped a hand over it and pulled it off, then put it on the floor. He rolled over so he faced the wall, letting out a content sigh that he could finally just go to slee-
"Ed, you're back! Did you kill the Fuhrer?" the Doctor rushed over to Ed, leaning over him curiously.
Ed groaned. "Go away, I wanna sleep..." His words were slightly slurred as though he was already unconscious with sleep.
The Doctor pouted. "Just answer me. Yes or no?"
"Yes! I did! Now go the fuck away!" Ed buried his head farther in the pillow, and his breathing slowed and steadied, signaling that he fell asleep.
The Doctor grinned. "Wonderful! It should put that cursed military into complete chaos. Then, we'll kill the next Fuhrer, and the next, until it crumbles. Finally, I'll be the one to bring Amestris back to its glory by taking the rank of Fuhrer, and anyone that opposes me will be slaughtered. It's so simple, and yet, so effective."
The Doctor stopped talking, realizing that Ed was asleep and he was talking to himself. He turned away and walked upstairs, knowing that the military would be coming to check everyone's houses.
Once upstairs, he closed the door and locked it, and pushed a bookcase in front of it. He looked at his work, making sure it was impossible to see a door behind it, and then checked around his house, looking for any signs of his experiments. He saw none.
Finally, to pass the time, he pulled out a novel and began to read.
Ed's dreams confused him deeply. Once again, he saw that kid from Central Command, the one he had seen just before he jumped from the building. He was walking away from him.
"I'll be back soon, Al. Colonel Bastard's calling me for another one of his meetings." Ed scoffed, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
Al smiled. "Okay. Don't get into any fights with him!"
Ed flicked his left wrist. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. I'll kick his ass before he even realizes it. No problem!" He kept walking, hearing his brother giggle behind him, and the door to their hotel room close. Ed walked with his hands in his pockets, bottom jaw slightly forward and head tilted up a bit. He tried to make himself look taller, as usual, but his efforts were in vain because it hardly put a fraction of an inch on his height.
Ed glanced back, narrowing his eyes slightly. He had felt that tickling feeling at the back of his neck that you get when someone stares at you. But he saw nothing, and he brushed it off. Still, he had an odd feeling that something was about to happen, and he kept his guard up.
Then there was a quick whizzing sound just behind him, and he whipped around. Clang! A busted dart fell to the floor next to him after colliding with his metal arm.
"What the hell?!" Ed growled, kicking the dart aside. His gaze raked the area where the dart had come from, but he found nothing. Only a few doors...someone must have opened a door just enough the shoot the dart at him, then closed it right away. But which door?
Ed walked towards the doors. His pride refused to let someone get away with this. He stopped about five feet away, eyeing each door carefully. Behind one of the doors, there was an attacker. But which one? They all looked exactly the same.
Then he saw it; a shadow behind the third door. It moved slightly, signaling that someone was behind it. Ed clapped his hands together and transmuted his automail into a blade. He took a step back, and without thinking, he slammed into the door.
…Only, he didn't make contact with it. The door swung open last second, causing Ed to fall ungracefully to the floor. He saw a shadow move fast, and a slight prick to the back of his neck. Cold flowed into his veins, and his mind numbed. He unwillingly closed his eyes, hating himself for giving in to the drugs
Ed opened his eyes slightly. What was that dream about…? It was very weird, and it shook him up slightly. What was that kid doing in his dreams? What was he doing, going to a meeting, and who was 'Colonel Bastard'? Why had he been so stupid to have just busted his way through a random door? Who injected him with that drug? Questions whirred in his mind, all lacking answers. Nonetheless, he was still incredibly tired, and he closed his eyes once more, this time falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Life at the office was pretty much the usual; busy. The only difference was that there was tenseness in the air, and for good reason. There were plenty of headaches going around like a contagion. The most prone to said bug are the higher-ups of Central Command, those in charge of locating the murderer.
Luckily, Roy Mustang wasn't stuck in his office doing paperwork, even though later on he knew he'd probably be drowned in it. For now, he was just happy that he was part of the searches.
He and his team were in charge of the northeastern corner of Central; they would be searching in pairs. Havoc and Breda, Fuery and Falman, Hawkeye and Mustang. All except one were armed with guns; the one exception had ignition gloves.
The northeastern parts of the city were average looking; not run down and abandoned, but not exactly rich, either. The buildings were brick and were no bigger than three stories tall. A few trees dotted the sidewalks, all trimmed nicely so they looked nearly identical. The roads were slightly run-down, a few cracks crisscrossing the black pavement, but all in all, it wasn't bad enough to be a problem.
Havoc led the way into the next building somewhat sluggishly; they had been searching for three hours now. There were mostly just worried families, all fretting about the Fuhrer's death and worried that the murderer would go after them. Havoc and Breda carefully assured them that the murderer wouldn't be able to stay hidden for long and wouldn't be able to get to anyone. After all, the streets were deserted; anyone walking by would stand out like a red marker on an otherwise blank white piece of paper. They would be immediately questioned; there would be no avoiding the military.
Breda sighed quietly as Havoc knocked on the door. Both looked tired and irritable, which was expected, as they had been searching homes for a long time.
The door opened, revealing a tall man with circular glasses that hid his eyes. He wore casual clothes, which was a red tee shirt and jeans, along with sandals. He opened the door wider.
"Ah yes, you military folks- come right on in, sirs." He smiled warmly, stepping back to let Havoc and Breda in.
Breda walked forwards, looking around. Havoc stepped back as the man closed the door.
"I just need to ask you a few questions, okay?" Havoc said to him, waving his clip board.
The man nodded. "Yes, of course. Go right ahead."
"Name?"
"Doctor Rey Pierson."
"Do you live with anyone else?"
"Nobody."
"Is there anyone else here at the moment?"
"No, other than you soldiers."
Havoc asked more questions, and Pierson answered pretty easily, no indication of lies. Meanwhile, Breda was looking around, searching for any clues that might hint that a murderer was here. Everything seemed normal, so Breda began to let his guard down.
He noticed a scuff mark on the hardwood flooring right next to a large bookcase. It did seem a little suspicious, but hey, who knows when it was from? It could have been there for years. No sense in freaking out over a bookcase being moved a little bit.
Breda kept walking, heading back to Havoc. He heard his friend ask the last question.
"Are you an alchemist?"
Pierson paused. After a small moment of silence, he said, "I've tried it a little, yes. Although I must admit, I'm not very good at it. So I gave it up. Am I still considered an alchemist?"
Havoc thought for a moment. "Well...yeah, I guess, since you tried it. So you're considered an alchemist." He scribbled something down in the last line. "Alright, that's it. Thanks for your time."
Havoc stood up and walked towards the door, Breda following. He stepped out, grateful to be out of that place. The guy was too comfortable; it looked like he knew what he was doing. Breda glanced at Havoc, and noticed that he shared the same look.
"That guy was a little creepy, don't you think? I mean, he was nice and all, but just...weird." Havoc grumbled.
Breda nodded. "Yeah, I noticed it too." He sighed, walking ahead. "Let's just get this over with, I'd like to get home soon...I'm tired as hell."
From the basement, Ed could hear footsteps. They were loud. Seriously, can't people learn to step lightly? It wasn't that hard to do. Maybe they could try it out for a change.
Ed rolled over so he lay flat on his stomach, face first into his pillow. "Shut...the fuck…up." His voice was muffled from a certain fluffy pillow. He could even hear their voices, god dammit! How loud could they be? It sounded like they were asking stupid questions.
"Name?"
"Doctor Rey Pierson."
"Do you live with anyone else?"
"Nobody."
"Is there anyone else here at the moment?"
"No, other than you soldiers."
Ed mentally snorted. 'What a load of bullshit. I'm here, or maybe he's forgotten already?' He rolled over onto his back so he faced up. Someone was walking directly above him, then the footsteps receded slowly towards the door to the basement. He heard the person pause momentarily, then once again continue walking.
Once again, tiredness took over Ed like a tide of water. With an indignant sniff, he flipped onto his side so he faced the concrete wall. He fell asleep, not really caring about what was going on upstairs, as long as it didn't directly involve him.
Then again, he was so tired, he probably wouldn't have cared even if it had everything to do with him.
The Doctor watched as the two soldiers left. How ironic; they both worked closely with the Fullmetal Alchemist. The Doctor, of course, had done his research before kidnapping Ed, and he knew all his family members, close friends, subordinates, even his automail mechanic. It took him months to get all the information about Edward Elric, everything, even things the boy probably didn't know even about himself. But it was all worth it; he had an untouchable killing machine under his control! He had power!
The Doctor thought for a moment. He knew that they had to start forming another plan. But would they really need one? Ed would just get to Central Command via tunnels, make his way into the next Fuhrer's office, kill the guy, then leave, like he did last time. Although, it felt like he should be preparing, at least in some way…
The Doctor mentally face-palmed. How did he not think of this sooner? The boy was wearing a bright red trench coat. If somebody saw him, they'd tell everyone they knew that they saw the murderer in a red coat, and everyone would know that it was Edward Elric who was killing the high-ranking military officials. That could not happen.
The Doctor decided to fix that problem. The kid needed to blend in. He needed something darker…like a black trench coat.
Perfect.
He pushed the bookcase aside and opened the door. After trotting down the stairs, he walked over to Ed and leaned over him. "Wake up."
The kid didn't move, or make any notion that he was waking up.
"Hey Ed, wake up!" He began shaking the kid's shoulder.
Ed was still asleep.
Dammit, this kid is a heavy sleeper! The Doctor began shaking him more violently, before putting his lips right up to Ed's ear and shouting,
"Wake the fuck up already!"
This seemed to work. The blonde's eyes whipped open, and immediately he whirled around and punched the Doctor clean in the face.
"Aghh!" The Doctor fell back. He clutched his fast swelling forehead as stars began to swarm viciously around his head.
Ed stared at him, looking very surprised. "What the fuck, Doc? Can't I get any sleep at all?" He didn't look guilty at all, just irritated.
The Doctor cringed in pain. "I just want you to change your red coat so that it's black instead of red, god dammit! Did you really have to punch me in the face?!"
Ed shrugged. "Well, you surprised me is all. Anyways, why would I want to change my coat color? I think red is fine. Why do I have to change it?"
"Because I told you to! It's more discreet! People will recognize you right away if you run around in a bright red coat."
"So what? They just know that the murderer wears a red coat. Big deal. Lots of people wear red coats."
"No, they don't! And besides, that's not the point. You can blend in better wearing black. Just do it already."
"I don't want to."
"Ed!"
"No."
"Damn it, Ed,just change the coat color!"
"…fine. But only if you let me sleep for two days without waking me up at all. Swear!"
"..deal. I swear I won't wake you up for two days straight. But when those two days are over, I'm waking you up right away!"
Ed smirked. He didn't mind a change of color if it meant that he could have extra sleep. He could probably sleep for weeks without waking up once; provided of course that he had eaten enough to last. He could eat quite a lot, actually. But that was a different subject.
He just wanted to go back to sleep already.
He stepped out of bed and pulled off his coat, before he clapped his hands together, then pressed his palms against the fabric. Blue electricity flickered over the coat, and the colors faded to black. But instead of turning the entire coat black, he changed his symbol to dark red. He pretty much just switched the colors around.
The Doctor stared. "I told you to make the coat black, not black and red."
Ed shrugged, pulling it on. "Nah, I like it this way better. And this coat's actually not too bad, really. I think I like it better this way." He smirked, jumping back into bed. "Talk to you in two days, Doc. Don't forget about our deal!"
With that, Ed closed his eyes, and fell asleep almost immediately.
The Doctor stared incredulously. The nerve of that kid. Maybe he should have picked another child prodigy for his plans. This one was too hot headed, arrogant, stubborn, he could think up a million things wrong with this brat. But he did his job well, so it didn't matter anyway.
In two days time, the Doctor would send out his assassin to kill the next Fuhrer, whoever it might be.
I'd like to thank ChibiUchiha723 for pointing out that Ed wearing a red coat is a bit, uh, 'flashy', so to say. So thank her for Ed's change of colors! I personally loved the idea when she suggested it! Thank you! :'3
Also, another shout out to Dylexa, my almighty beta reader! She improves this fic GREATLY- it would make absolutely no sense if it weren't for her awesome editing skills. So please, give her your thanks as well!
~Aero
