Chapter 4
The sun had fallen long ago, casting the world into darkness. Storm clouds rolled overhead, grumbling with thunder and lighting.
Edward stepped into the alleyway, casting his shadow into the narrowed path as a streetlamp flickered weakly behind him. The inconstant light illuminated the drizzling rain drops as they fell and shattered upon impact with the ground. A light sprinkle had begun only a few hours before, but the concrete ground and brick walls had already been entirely soaked by the endless shower.
Ed's golden eyes were nervous and dilated as they landed on a metal door, which led into the back of a bar. He slowly moved forward until he was facing it, then leaned back against the opposing brick wall to wait.
He didn't know why he was waiting. His brain refused to tell him, but he knew there was a purpose. Whatever the reason may be, there was... something he needed to do. Whatever that something was, he knew that his intentions were good. There was someone out there who would want him to turn around and leave- part of himself wanted to as well- but at the same time, he was convinced that that would never be an option.
Whatever he was there to do, it needed to happen. Not because the other option was worse, but because there truly was no other option. It was like blinking. A person couldn't simply decide to stop blinking; their body denied them the choice. Any and all defiance to that law would quickly be snuffed out in favor of the subconscious demand.
Finally, the door handle turned with a squeak and opened to reveal an older man, likely in his 40s. He wore a black jacket, which protected his buttoned shirt and lose tie from the drizzle. Lights and laughter from the bar filled the air as the man stepped outside, before it was abruptly cut off as the heavy door slammed shut behind him.
Edward wasn't particularly familiar with him, but something told him to memorize every detail of his rather unremarkable face. He had dark blond, almost brown hair that was combed back, but began to fall messily back into place throughout the long day. There were hints of gray in his neatly trimmed beard and worry lines had formed into his features. He had tired, yet confident eyes, but Ed wasn't able to make out their color in the darkness. His mind filled in the blanks for him, whispering the name Victor Tresler.
While he was directly facing Edward, he didn't seem to notice the kid. His head turned from side to side, looking down the alley and then back to the dimly lit street. Tresler appeared to be anxiously searching for something. Or rather, he was expecting something unfortunate to jump out in front of him.
But that was exactly why Edward was there, wasn't it? He was sure of it now.
Someone was after that man's life and it was Ed's job to warn him- to save him.
The blond took a step forward, seeing that simply facing him wasn't enough to grab the attention of the possibly intoxicated man. "Hey," he started but instead of his usual brand of blunt confidence, his voice came out as a gasped whisper as an unsettling chill suddenly ran down his spine.
When Victor's eyes finally fell on the boy before him, he took a small, hesitant step back as if he was startled. Confusion and fear flashed across his visage, but it was quickly hidden by a forced, controlled expression.
"What do you want, kid?" He asked, now looking down on Ed as if he wasn't much more than an inconvenience.
Victor Tresler could be as ungrateful as he wanted; Edward didn't really care. He just wanted to get the man out of that alleyway. That was all that mattered. After that, he would be safe and Ed could move on with is life.
Ed cleared his throat, recovering his usual tone. "Someone wants to kill you," he informed brusquely, nervously glancing towards the lifeless street. He could feel time running out. "Come on, you gotta get out of here!" He insisted, gesturing with his hand to the safety of the main street.
Tresler quirked an eyebrow and smiled in a ironically amused fashion. "You want to help me?" He laughed. "You could help by leaving me be."
Edward glowered at the man, feeling his impatience rising. "There's no time for this," he argued. "Quit being stupid and follow me before they get here! Don't you care?" He wasn't entirely sure who 'they' were, but he had the daunting impression that something was coming. His gaze darted down the alley again- he felt eyes watching him from all angles and could have sworn that he heard footsteps.
"Just go away, kid," Victor huffed, casting a wary glance down to the blond.
Why couldn't the fool understand that his life was at risk!? Ed growled and reached forward, grabbing hold of the unsuspecting man's sleeve and puling backwards. If he wasn't going to come willingly, then he would just have to force him. It was for his own good, after all.
The streetlamp from behind flickered again, then went out, suddenly leaving Edward blind in the swallowing darkness. He froze as a sense of dread filled his chest, nearly choking him with its density. He was still aware of the fabric of the older man's jacket in his hand despite the fact that he couldn't feel it through his automail fingers. He held onto that fabric tightly as if that alone could keep the man alive as the unknown swarmed around them.
The lamp switched back to life after a moment, returning an uneasy light back down the alleyway.
Ed's breath was caught in his throat when his eyes adjusted to see his hand was now on Victor Tresler's chest, just over his heart. He had no recollection of ever moving his hand after grabbing the man's sleeve, and he didn't feel any movement after the light went out either. How the hell did that happen?
He simply stared in confusion for a moment, then slowly looked up to the older man's face. Just as their eyes met, a pained, terrified expression smeared across Victor's face for a split second. The spot where Edward's fingertips touched his shirt suddenly exploded into what looked like a rapidly blossoming flower of red. The alchemist drew back quickly as the burst of blood fell over him, consuming his vision.
He took several shaken steps back and wiped his eyes with his sleeve before looking up again, noting the red tint that warped his sight. The thick liquid had drenched him- it made his clothes cling uncomfortably to his body, stuck between his fingers, and matted down his hair.
Victor stood tensely still with a horrified expression embedded in his features. A deep pool of blood had stained his shirt, down his sleeves, and dripped off his paralyzed fingers. Through his daze, he coughed, splattering red down his chin as he choked.
His eyes locked onto Edward's, stealing his ability to look away and rooting him to the spot.
The man looked absolutely horrified and betrayed. His eyes were haunted with a confusing mix of countless intense emotions, and it terrified Ed to the core. He managed to spit so many insults and accusations and heart wrenching questions at the boy all with the silent look in his eyes.
Ed was incredibly confused and dumbfounded. What did he just do?
There was an automatic trust between human beings, even those who were no more than strangers to each other. To him, Edward had somehow betrayed that trust by doing the unforgivable. No one ever saw it coming. It was sudden and uncalled for and impossible to understand.
It was treason against humanity in its cruelest form.
He felt a deathly frigid gust of wind swept through the alley that chilled his very bones. His throat closed up on a suffocating sense of regret and horror.
But he just touched him- Ed couldn't have been the one to spill so much blood!
He looked down and raised his blood soaked arm slightly, wondering how lightly touching the man's shirt could have possibly caused so much harm.
Except when his eyes landed on the object in his hands, he stiffened and his eyes widened as his lungs began to beg for the oxygen that was stuck in his mouth.
It glinted in the dim light, cold and mercilessly. The blood that had completely covered it shined with a red hue, causing Edward to feel sick to his stomach.
The gun rattled as his hands shook uncontrollably. This wasn't his fault- the weapon was to blame.
And yet, the black tool whispered to him, congratulating him on a job well done. He felt like an accomplice in a crime, and his partner was proud of what he had been forced and tricked into doing. He didn't want any part of it, and yet he did it anyway...
But no- this wasn't him. This couldn't have been his fault. He couldn't- he wouldn't have done this!
However, his hands dripped with another human's blood and the murder weapon was in his grip. He violently recoiled away once the reality sunk it, trying to throw the gun as far away from him as possible, but his mechanical fingers refused to listen to him. Instead, he watched the digits tighten around the dark weapon against his consent.
Consumed by panic, Edward looked up as Victor staggered forward, causing the teenager to back up until he reached the brick wall. The older man's eyes rolled back as he fell forward, his head landing inches away from Ed's feet with a thud. He flinched with his eyes shut tightly, pressing his back harder against the wall, frozen in place.
He desperately hoped that none of this was real. Ed would give anything to open his eyes to see the four walls of his dorm and Alphonse sitting beside him with a book. But the steady, light drops of rain continued, telling the blond that he wasn't going to be magically transported away anytime soon. Even the rain felt thick like blood, refusing him the small comfort of blind denial.
How could he had been so naive to believe that he could have actually saved anyone? He couldn't even trust himself to do the right thing.
The alchemist pried his eyes open when he heard the shuffling of fabric below him to see Victor inching closer to Ed on the ground. Blood oozed from his body and combined with the puddles of rainwater, quickly spreading across the ground with a dark red. He reached forward and locked Ed's ankle in an iron grip, leaving the kid far too shocked to consider fighting back.
Victor's head slowly craned upwards; his skin had already turned a lifeless gray color and his eyes were bloodshot and hazy, but his gaze bore into Edward with a burning, hateful intensity. The air around him stank with death as if his body decayed at an alarmingly unnatural rate.
"You. . . You did this," the body gasped, peering into Edward's very soul as he tried and failed to find the strength to run. "You killed me," it said again, louder. "You are a murderer!" The ghostly frail voice distorted into an ear-piercing scream. Ed flinched away from the accusation, but he couldn't run from it. The shrieks left him feeling weak and paraplegic.
Part of it was that suffocating fear that demanded he run away, but gave him no option to do so. It taunted him as it asked him to do the impossible and called him a spineless coward.
Another part was a quiet corner of his mind telling him that he deserved to listen to the voice. Victor was telling the truth, so he had no right to flee from it. Taking the blame was the very least he could do, after stealing the life out of another person. He half hoped that if he just endured what he deserved, that it would somehow serve to lessen his regret.
"Murderer!" Another voice screamed from behind him. Edward pivoted around, far too distracted to notice that the wall had vanished. There was no longer a distinguishable setting around him- just darkness, blood, and figures lurking in the shadows. He felt the weight of their glares that left him feeling exposed as voices called out his sins.
"Murderer!"
"Murderer!"
"Murderer!"
Edward brought his hands up to cover his ears from the voices. They echoed in is skull, leading him to wonder if they were truly real or simply phantoms of his own imagination.
His hands froze before his face once he remembered the blood that had covered him. His hands were rightfully stained red, glistening ominously in the dim light. Edward still clenched onto the gun, disgusted by how it fit perfectly in his grip.
Ed breathed uneasily through his teeth as he forcefully used his flesh hand to loosen the uncooperative fingers of his automail. When the weapon finally fell from his hand and hit the ground, the sound of the impact cut through the accusing shrieks that surrounded him with a noise that rung through his ears.
That gun... The sole purpose of its existence was to hurt other people. Edward Elric used it for exactly that reason, but he didn't even know why. His brain had closed itself from him when he needed it most, leaving him to question himself. Ed was repulsed just be looking at the weapon, so surely he would never actually want to use it.
But he couldn't deny the fact that he did.
Edward lurched forward, gasping for air. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could hear his blood pulsing in his ears. He immediately looked down at his hands and a shaken sigh of relief escaped past his heavy heaving when he didn't see them dripping with blood.
Something akin to a choked sob managed to sneak past his defenses as he wiped a layer of cold sweat from his brow. His hands were shaking violently as the images of his dream flashed behind his eyelids.
So much blood. He could almost smell the iron.
Ed wrapped his arms around his body as he made a weak attempt to compose himself. He was so tired of this. Running around all day in search of the man who kidnapped Alphonse, making absolutely no progress day after day, being consumed by paranoia and fear every time another human being walked near him, dreading sleep because of the horrible nightmares...
He used to think that the first few days after failing to transmute his mother was the worst time of his life, but at least he had Alphonse to keep him grounded. Before Mustang came around and slapped some sense into him, he felt like an empty failure who had no reason for living. He may had been unresponsive and felt dead inside, but Alphonse was by his side through it all. No matter how bad the world had seemed, he wasn't alone.
The same couldn't be said this time around, however. Al was gone. It seemed that the person who took him was watching Ed's every move, leaving him no way to find them. Every attempt made him feel like a child who was pointlessly trying to take something back from a parent. He didn't have the strength or the ability, so all he could do was pathetically try and look like a fool in the process. He was a mouse in a trap, running around in circles.
The blond leaned back against the headboard and exhaled a quivered breath as he tried to reclaim some sanity. After several long seconds of controlled breathing, he rubbed his eyes and looked towards the analogue clock that said it was almost nine in the morning. He wasn't exactly sure when, but Ed had gotten back to the room very late last night - or rather, early that morning. He was just glad that he managed to get as much sleep as he did, though it still wasn't nearly enough.
His sheets had been drenched with sweat, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he pulled his legs over the edge of the bed and buried his head in is hands.
Why was he so damn susceptible to nightmares? Surely not many people had the same problem, so why him? He had been plagued by them for years, but lately, they had come every night and had primarily switched focus to Victor Tresler since the incident.
Then again, not many people had done such terrible, unthinkable things. Not like him.
Edward let out a shuddered sigh between his hands, repressing a shiver that wanted to run down his back. The guilt was eating away at him but he was trapped in what felt like a perpetual state of stagnation. He couldn't continue to wake up every morning as a choking wreck and tell himself that everything was fine. He had even considered going straight to the military several times, but that was obviously not an option. If he could get charged with the crimes he was guilty of and face the consequences, then perhaps it would become almost bearable. Ed just wanted to somehow remove some of the burden that clung to him like weights. But no matter what happened, he could not go on like this. He simply wouldn't be able to live each day pretending that he wasn't stricken with grief.
But Ed couldn't afford to worry about himself until Alphonse was safe. And even after that, he still had to get his brother's body back to make up for his first mistake. So, no, he couldn't get himself thrown in prison. He didn't really want to, anyway. But the guilt was intolerable; he felt a cold pit in his chest every time it so much as crossed his mind.
This wasn't about him- it never has been. The only thing that mattered was finding his brother. Why would his own guilt matter more than Alphonse' life? Edward had no right to wallow in his own self pity when a life was on the line.
The blond sighed and pushed himself off of the bed. It was so easy to tell himself to get over it so he could focus on Al, but it was much easier said than done. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get the pictures out of his mind, or the voices out of his ears.
It was a cruel cycle.
Edward trudged over to the restroom to splash some water on his face, hoping it would help somehow. But before he got to the door, he heard several pairs of footsteps outside the door and he immediately froze. He waited a moment as they trailed on, then slid over to the bed and crouched behind the edge, staring wide-eyed at the door, which was barricaded by the dresser once more.
He did the same thing every time he heard a sound in the hall. He knew the chances of someone coming here for him were slim, but he couldn't refrain from panicking each time. It was most likely just the innkeeper escorting new guests to their rooms, as it had been all the times before.
The footsteps stopped in front of his door, followed by a hesitant silence. Dread spiked in his chest as he felt his blood run cold. Ed's automail fist curled around the draping sheet as his breath was caught in his throat, fearing that simply exhaling would be enough for them to hear him. The silence stretched on for several nerve-wrecking seconds before he heard a knock.
Don't freak out yet. It's just the innkeeper again, he told himself, forcing air into his lungs.
They knocked again when he failed to answer. After another moment, the doorknob began to jar as if they were going to unlock it with a key.
The innkeeper wouldn't just force her way into his room, since he just paid the other day. Nor would she be completely silent. He had no choice but to assume the worst. It had to be the military.
How the hell did they find him? He was so careful to be discrete... Perhaps Mustang tracked him down from where they last met. He wasn't terribly far from that cafe. With his resources, it probably wouldn't have been too hard to pinpoint his location.
Shit. Had he really believed that the Colonel would just leave him be? Of course not. He should have been more cautious. He should have left the area as soon as he was out of Mustang's sight.
The doorknob clicked just as Edward had kicked himself into gear. He jumped across the room and grabbed the single suitcase that he had managed to pack just before the chaos began several days ago. He always made sure to have it prepared just in case this very situation occurred. He then grabbed his raincoat off the side of the bed and sprinted over to the bare wall, opposed to the restroom.
The door opened a crack as it dented the barricading dresser.
"We know you're here, Edward Elric!" a deep voice doomed, sending a new jolt of fear down the blond's spine. "You are wanted by the State. Surrender quietly, or else we'll be required to use force!"
He clapped and created a hole in the wall that opened up into the next room, which he prayed was empty. Edward slipped inside and alchemically closed the hole again just to see them force the dresser aside. He caught a glance of the black uniforms of the military police before the wall sealed closed.
Ignoring the shouts from behind the wall, Ed turned to check his surroundings. The room was dim, lit only by the light that cracked through the curtains. The bed was made, and there wasn't a single thing out of place. Thankfully, it seemed like no one was in there with him.
With a tight grip around the handle of his suitcase, Edward ran towards the door with his brown coat over his shoulder, not daring to sacrifice the time to put it on, and unlocked the door. He peered around the corner to his own door; one of the MPs remained outside while the others searched the room for him, but he wasn't looking in Ed's direction. A nervous looking innkeeper was further down the hall, distracted by whispering to one of the employees. She must have finally caught on and ratted him out.
Without any hesitation, Edward turned away from them and ran down the hall. He skid around the corner, cursing under his breath when his suitcase collided with the wall. He didn't bother to check if the military police officers noticed, deciding to focus primarily on running.
The fleeing alchemist soon reached the lobby, promptly ignoring the curious glances that he was given by other guests and employees. He was painfully aware that he hadn't hidden his noticeable blond hair in the rush, but he hoped that the lack of a braid would keep him from being easily recognizable. He was just glad that he hadn't bothered to remove his black jacket from the night before, so his automail was still mostly covered.
Edward shoved the front door open, squinting his eyes as sunlight sneaked through the gray clouds. He was mildly surprised to see that the rain had stopped, but the weather wasn't where his attention currently was.
Several military cars were parked in front of the building, where a few more uniformed men waited. He froze upon seeing them, mind scrambling as his eyes darted from side to side, in search of the best option of escape.
One of the men donning the blue uniform turned towards him, eyes widening as recognition struck. Ed's heart skipped a beat from the shock, as he recognized the man as well.
Jean Havoc scrambled to pull the cigarette from his mouth after the initial surprise wore off, intending to speak. But before he could get the words out, Edward had turned his back towards the second lieutenant and broke into sprint once more.
"Wait, Chief!" Havoc yelled, sounding strangely desperate, as he and the others followed.
At that moment, the only thing Edward knew was that he was being chased. It didn't matter that one of his pursuers was someone he liked to call a friend on most days. It didn't matter that he was one of the most trustful and loyal people that Ed had ever known. All that mattered was that he was running for Al's sake, and there were people who were trying to stop him.
Ed pushed his way through crowds, trying to get as much distance between him and the military as possible. He vaguely heard the other blond calling after him, but he paid no mind to it as his eyes scanned the streets in search for a good route to take. He had to get out of the open before he could get out of their sight for good.
A small, childish part of him wanted to stop and trust the military to take care of everything for him. But Edward hated that thought and refused to acknowledged it, and denied that it ever came to mind. It was his job to find Alphonse and set things straight. It was his job to fix his problems, and he couldn't allow anyone else to interfere.
There wasn't anyone actually willing to help anyway.
While he did like to think that Havoc truly cared for Ed and Al's well-being, at least to some degree, even he couldn't be trusted. The man was fiercely loyal to Mustang, who was obviously set on hunting the Elric down.
When he ran into the colonel last weekend, Ed found himself wanting to believe what he said. He was so surprised that Mustang made no move to arrest him. All of that talk about wanting to help and being concerned- it was probably all said just to distract and blind him. For all he knew, Mustang followed him back to the inn right after they finished talking, and knew where he was the entire time.
. . .
Why didn't he consider that until it was already too late?!
Edward clenched his jaw, nearing biting his tongue as he turned around a street corner. His eyes danced around the area, rapidly searching for any holes or crevices. But before he could find anything, Havoc and the two other officers appeared around the corner as well, and they were gaining. Ed continued running, trying to ignore the growing strain in his legs and chest as the cool air ripped through his throat. Havoc was the most athletic in the team, and was quickly closing the gap between Edward and himself.
"Stop running!" Havoc breathed as he slowly caught up. His words sounded more like begging than an order, but Ed was in no mind to notice. It didn't matter what Havoc thought about the whole situation; he was following orders. "We can just- talk!" What was with them and trying to talk all of a sudden? Ed wouldn't fall for it this time.
Edward took a deep breath and forced himself forward as he felt Jean nearing up behind him. The alchemist jumped over the fence of a restaurant's outdoor patio and swerved around tables and people alike. His smaller frame made him more agile than the grown man behind him, allowing him to make swift movements between the tight spaces.
Havoc followed him through the patio, but his mindfulness for the people around him slowed him down. Edward nearly toppled into a waiter, then leaped over the fence once more. The other blond struggled to shrug himself past the citizens as the other military men decided to go around the fenced area instead.
He had to act while they were slowed down. Without sparing them a glance, Edward ducked into an alley between two buildings. He was hoping to find a way to the other side of the building before they caught up, but he was greeted with a dead end instead. There was no time to turn around at that point.
Ed spun around, give each direction and corner a glance in hopes of finding something. But the walls were far too high to climb and there weren't enough trashcans to hide behind either. They were only seconds behind him; he had no time to think.
Edward dropped the old suitcase by his feet and clapped his hands, mindful of the voices that were coming closer around the corner. His palms collided against the cold brick wall as equations and elements swirled in his brain, hoping that his own mind wouldn't turn against him too.
Another wall extended outward, making a duplicate of the three that trapped him. With the extra wall, he effectively shortened the alley, but created a box around himself in the process. However, his only concern was tricking the uniformed men when they turned the corner. He did what he could with the limited time to embed the brick design into the wall and hide the transmutation marks, but it wouldn't be perfect. He just had to hope that it was enough.
Edward lowered himself to the ground and threw a hand over his mouth to muffle his heavy breathing when he heard hasty footsteps enter the alley.
"Shit," a breathless whisper came from the other side of the transmuted wall. "He couldn't have gotten far; keep looking," Havoc ordered as he addressed the others. They replied stiffly and hurried away.
Edward slowly put his other hand over his mouth as well, painfully aware that the second lieutenant was just two or three feet away from him. Based on where his voice came from, he was right next to the wall. Did he notice the transmutation marks? Ed had hoped that he didn't know enough about alchemy to realize how it was used. The older man definitely heard it, or at least saw the flash from around the corner, but how likely was it that he knew exactly what the teenager had done?
"... So close," Havoc muttered with a wary groan. "I was so close."
Ed flinched away from a metallic bang, quickly followed by a crash, as if someone just kicked over a trashcan. There was a beat of heated silence before Havoc decisively made his way back to the main street with quieting footsteps.
The teenager held his breath for several more tentative seconds, irrationally afraid that they could somehow hear his very heartbeat. After a moment passed, he let out a quivering breath and lowered his arms to his side, finally allowing himself to breath. His legs trembled and his lungs burned from the exertion. It wasn't a particularly long or strenuous run, but the the sudden burst was still enough to wear him out.
He sighed and rolled his head back to look up out of the little brick box that he had made for himself. The clouds weren't as dark as they had been the past few days and they even allowed some room for sunlight to slip through.
It certainly didn't feel like the sun should have been shining in that moment.
It was becoming abundantly clear that the situation was steadily going down hill. None of this was supposed to happen. He was quickly losing control of the situation, if he ever had any at all.
He had questioned and contemplated it so many times; why was this happening to him? Why was his life falling apart of the seams? Whether it was karma, the universe, fate, God, Truth; he didn't know what he had done to deserve this.
Yes, he had broken the taboo of alchemy, but he already paid the price for that! Even so, he knew that he didn't deserve a particularly comfortable life. He was still so young and had already endured so much, and was prepared for it to continue for years to come. But this?
His only family had been taken away from him, he was forced to distrust and turn away from the only people he might have dared to call friends, and he was left all alone to endure a physiological torture that he was incredibly ill prepared for. To make matters worse, he saw no end in sight.
Supposedly, everything would fix itself when Riece decided to be merciful and reveal himself, but he couldn't even be sure that that would ever happen.
And what exactly was he supposed to do about that!? The man was invisible- nonexistent! Edward had hunted down plenty of criminals and wanted men before; he knew how it worked. But none of his tactics have gotten him anywhere. He was left with absolutely nothing to work with.
Trying was useless.
But there was nothing else to do except try.
Edward groaned through his teeth and rubbed his eyes, then lowered his gaze to fall on his outstretched legs.
He couldn't stay there.
Ed was in no position to underestimate people. If Havoc was examining the wall, then he very possibly could have noticed the transmutation marks but figured that Ed had kept running from the other side. Just because the older blond wasn't an alchemist didn't mean that he couldn't recognize when alchemy was used. It was entirely probable that he or the other military personnel would return later to get a better look.
His only sense of safety had been swept away, leaving nothing to replace it. Going back to the inn wasn't an option, and the search for him only increased with every passing day. It was amazing that he managed to get a room at the inn without giving up his name in the first place, but then again, money could do wonders. Of course, he was running out of that and couldn't step foot near a bank anyway.
Perhaps he should start looking for a bridge to sleep under.
Edward chuckled mirthlessly, reveling in the uncanny irony.
Mustang seemed worried that Ed had lodged himself under a bridge before, but in the end, it was the colonel's actions that would eventually lead him to one.
With a sigh, the blond decided to leave the alley after giving the search some time to die down. He pulled his suitcase over to him and rummaged inside in search for a hair tie, pausing only briefly when his eyes landed on his red coat tucked within.
That trademark flamel coat gave him confidence, which was something that he was running short on lately. It was amazing how something as insignificant as a piece of clothing could affect his entire outlook. But sadly, that coat had no place in the situation he had found himself in.
It was far too bright and recognizable for him to actually wear it, even underneath the raincoat he had picked up some time before. And for whatever reason, he didn't want it to be associated with everything that had happened to him lately. He didn't want to taint it.
Once all of this chaos had passed, Edward didn't want to look at the coat that he had grown so attached to and be reminded of these unpleasant memories.
It was just another measly attempt to forget.
He knew it was pointless. He knew that he would never forget. And yet, part of him still wanted to try, because trying was really all he could do.
AN: So I'm just going to take a moment to warn you all that there's still a little ways to go before the truth about the killing is confirmed, despite all of these red flags. By the time that rolls around, I'm sure you'll all be leaning one way or another and I'd be very interested to know where you land. :)
Things are going to start picking up soon. Thanks for reading!