In the Car
The needle had never dipped below a solid 40, regardless of the changing speed limits, ranging from 25 to 30, but Temperance never slowed down a bit. Ed could practically see how tightly she was clenching onto the steering wheel, a few emotions sketched into her normally so carefully concealed face. He could pick out a few, anger that was quickly fading into fear, along with the constant concentration that kept her eyes locked on the road, luckily for him, and not checking on him as he did his best to brush his golden locks into a position that that both concealed his squinting eyes, and provided some sort of shade from the blinding sunlight.
After succeeding, at least partially, in that matter her turned his attention to the woman next to him that almost seemed like she was about to break the steering wheel into pieces by how tight she was clutching onto it. "Please, try to calm down Bones." He whispered through gritted teeth, trying to calm her down enough that he could let his stomach catch up with them, as well as avoiding spilling anything about Scar in an attempt to calm her down. "It's going to be all right, after all, getting there 5 minutes earlier won't speed up anyone else showing up." He wasn't entirely sure if that made much sense anymore, but in his head it sounded good enough to try and convince her with.
Unfortunately for him, that only seemed to make the car go faster. Ed sunk slowly into his seat, trying to convince himself that this time he would stay quiet about that man that had tried to kill him before, not at all wanting to try and take down Scar. After all, they had just come to an agreement, they had been friends, as soon as Father was gone everything should have gone smoothly, shouldn't it? His mind was going slow as it is; throwing a military murdering Ishvalan into the mix couldn't possibly help his condition, whatever it was, in the least. Even still, he focused on the why and how then, letting his mind wander before the car slammed to a graceless stop.
Jeffersonian Now
Brennan practically dragged the small Elric into the building, the boy only managing to find his way to his feet fully after they had entered the at least dimmer lit halls before carefully pulling his aching automail out of the grip of the hurried woman.
Again, the doors rushed open with a small hiss just before they would have collided with them, leaving Edward feeling more unnerved than he had before, but then truly that wasn't saying much after the morning he had had, and the news he had been given.
Already there was quite a gathering around the body, a few men in suits conversing with Booth, Cam and the others standing back, clearly waiting for Temperance to arrive and tell them what to do, especially on a case of something that they had never seen before. Even more so it was the case of an FBI agent, and that made it even more pertinent that it needed to be solved, with no mistakes, and as quickly as they possibly could manage, so they waited.
Bones took the stairs in far fewer steps then she probably ever should have, Ed following carefully behind as he kept his eyes almost squinted closed as he focused his narrow gaze at his feet, hoping that they would ignore his current… sickly he would suppose, state.
Temperance was quickly gloved and barging into the agents' conversation, the only words caught by others were "Why did you move my body?" And then "What about the others, have you still not found out how this has been happening, or who?"
Ed grit his teeth, smothering the growl that wanted to escape him. It wasn't just that, he wanted to yell, or scream that this was all happening again, that everyone who ever did any field work at all for the military wanted to pack up all their things and run far, far away from here. He wanted to run his sick ass out of here and find Scar; he wanted to use his alchemy to stop this from continuing.
Instead he strained his ears in an attempt to hear what they were still discussing, a few snippets about some sort of "plan to trap them" and again another discussion about the reports "of a man wearing a yellow colored jacket, dark skinned, and with a large scar on his face" seen near almost every attack scene, either before or directly after the men, only men so far, had been killed.
He was convinced, but instead of running off he stayed where he was, leaning nonchalantly against the railing behind him as everyone rushed about their work, Temperance and Cam trying to piece back together what could have caused the injuries seen on their bones, or Jack clearly thinking up some way to test ways to blow the human skull into pieces like that. The suits were discussing over some sort of way to call the 'killer' out to make it easier to catch him, and all the better to catch him red handed, or going after the bait that had oh so clearly volunteered to stand up to this guy, or Booth.
A muffled groan escaped Ed as he heard Booth explaining how he would be able to handle this, and his fellow suits just going along with it, just going along with it for God's sake! He wanted to tell them all what Scar was capable, but instead he chose to keep his mouth shut and bide his time until Booth was actually in trouble. Because, hell, no matter how fit this guy is, Booth was clearly past his personal prime and even Armstrong in all his shirtless glory could only manage to hold off Scar for a few minutes when he was out for blood… even more importantly Ed's blood.
Ed quickly shuffled those thoughts away; they were for a different time and a different fight. For Truth's sake Booth had better be okay, regardless of him standing up against Scar, who was, most likely, bent on blood and revenge as he portrayed these men in suits as the alchemists that had whipped out his entire people in a matter of weeks. His hand wandered to the gleaming piece of metal still stuck inside his pocket, wondering if he should just try to sneak off and see what he could accomplish on his own, after all he would be far more able to lure Scar out with a few outrageous acts of alchemy then Booth could with whatever technology they planned on using… right?
Slowly he pulled himself away, heading toward Brennan's office instead of the door. Right now he simply needed somewhere dark enough that he could actually look up, and quiet enough that he would be able to think without the chance of someone else spouting idiotic ideas at him and messing up his currently fragile train of thought.
As soon as he was in the room he could see the books lining over her shelves, but disregarded them almost entirely as he flopped face first onto the couch, his normally curious mind smothered by a want to sleep, the hope that rest would help him sort out the information that was being thrown at him from almost every direction, even while he still struggled to get onto his own two feet from whatever was messing with him, sickness or otherwise.
It could have only been a few moments before his wearied mind faded into the recesses of sleep.
Some Time Later
Bones fumed as Booth turned away from her, more interested in calling out the monster that had killed the man lying before her then listening to her reasoning on why he should wait, why he should stop it or he could end up just like the mass of bones sitting on the shining table. Her mind was catching every detail, trying to find anything that could help him before something else happened to put him in more danger then he was already in.
They had all seen the news cast, nearly an hour earlier it had been broadcast over almost all the surrounding states even, that they had found him, Mark Winn was his name, the murdered FBI agent. It had gone further than that even, saying that they were finalizing the plan on catching his killer, all of this taking place in the Jeffersonian of Washington DC. This was as good as sitting a calling card out to the killer, but just to stick a lovely little cherry on top of all of this, it was said that as well as that, a mass of nearly ten guards, FBI agents, had been set to prevent anyone from getting to the body or disturbing any of the work.
Of course, almost all of this was a load of shit.
There was no armed guards, no plan on how to catch him at all. The only thing that they had was a single FBI agent standing on the platform with her and an empty Jeffersonian, everyone else had either fled or been forced to leave, no one wanting to take any chances. There were apparently snipers dotted along the buildings around them, as well as a few more men ready to rush in, guns blazing as soon as the signal was given. The only reason Bones was still there at all was because she had simply refused to leave, never saying so, but holding the threat of quitting her work for the FBI to be allowed to stay.
All that was left to do now was sit and wait for a murderer that they didn't even know who they were or what they looked like, they could only sit and wait for them to take the bait and show up.
