"Good news is our sketch artist was in. You can show Ed our dead friend's sketch instead of asking him to ID photographs of the corpse. Although after what the wedding band killed did to him, he might not be able to." Hughes slid a sketch across Roy's desk that Monday morning.

"Any new activity on the Drachmans?" Roy asked quietly, folding his hands.

"No. Although someone has decided to paint in blood on the manhole covers of the city. They really pissed off our recluse killer."

Roy sighed, standing and picking up the sketch. "Yeah. But unfortunately that doesn't get us anywhere closer to this whole thing ending. I'm having a hard time holding Ed back. There haven't been any concrete attempts to take him since the hospital, and he doesn't see the danger he's in. He wants to keep moving." Roy recounted their near miss at the market last night. Hughes nodded, taking in the information as Roy stepped out into the office.

He slid the sketch onto Ed's desk. Ed was furiously researching, seven books spread out atop his desk, and he looked over at Roy with a glare. "What?" he managed sharply. "I'm six steps into Gaussian Theory of bioaclehmic exchange, since it's the only thing I can think of while I'm on lockdown, so it better be good."

"It'll only take a minute. Is this the guy who tried to take you from the hospital?" Roy handed the boy the sketch.

Ed paused, nodding. "Yeah. That's him. Did you find him?"

"Yeah, we found him. That's all I needed to know." Roy carefully took the sketch back and headed towards his office.

"Wait! Aren't you gonna let me interrogate the guy!?" Ed was on his feet. He was so bored. He just wanted something- anything- to do. If interrogating this guy would get his travel ban lifted earlier, he'd go for it.

Roy paused just outside his door, stiffening. "No. The higher ups are handling it. Then he's being deported."

"Can I at least go out today for lunch! I'll take Al with me, I swear!"

"No. Write down what you want and someone will pick it up for you." Roy ducked back into his office, letting the door swing shut on the muttered complaints.

Hughes smiled slightly at Roy's frustration. "He's not taking his isolation well."

"It's been rough on him. He doesn't fully understand the danger he's in." Roy admitted, taking a seat back at his desk.

"That's partially our fault, you know. Ed's used to running his own little operation- he hates when the military yanks the leash too tight. Everything you've told me- like possibly seeing a sniper scope, and a woman warning you to get him away- would seem like hearsay to him. And we haven't even told him about what could've gone down in the market last night. We're partially to blame for his attitude for keeping him in the dark about it all."

"So what are you suggesting?" Roy leaned forward, interested.

"He might understand why we're locking him down so tight if we showed him the photos of Alessi's corpse instead of just the sketch."

"Then why did you bring a sketch instead?" Roy asked, glancing down at the paper on his desk.

Hughes smirked, the light of the office glinting off his glasses. "Because Ed doesn't need to see that. The kid has seen enough blood. And I knew you wouldn't go for it. I wouldn't go for it either."

"Right on both counts. So why even bring it up?" Roy looked across the desk at his friend, cocking his head.

"Just puts it into perspective when the complaining and whining gets a little annoying. Also- I might have a more mild solution for you."

"I'm listening."

"He's going a bit stircrazy to try and find the stone. He might do well with a distraction. It's Gracia's birthday tonight, I'm getting her favorite restaurant takeout and we're having a little party. You want to come by and bring the boys?"

"Sure. It'll be a nice break- might help Ed loosen up a little." Roy conceded.

"Perfect." Hughes stood, looking down at the sketch of Alessi on the table. "He give you a positive ID?"

"Yes. He did."

"Alright. I'll come by around six tonight. See you then!" Hughes flashed his characteristic smile before he was headed back out of the office.

"So you made her cook her own birthday dinner?" Ed asked, looking unamused, as he, Roy, and Alphonse strode down the street that evening after work.

"Of course not! I'm not a barbarian!" Hughes looked offended at the notion.

"So you cooked dinner?" Alphonse asked, cocking his helmet.

"Haha, no. Mac n' cheese isn't special enough for my beautiful wife! I got her favorite takeout- Italian! I got enough for everyone, it'd this restaurant right here. I might need some help carrying it."

Hughes ducked inside the restaurant for three minutes, coming back with hands laden with bags of takeout.

Ed took a bag to lighten his load, as did Roy.

They plodded along in silence for one moment, two.

"So... how many candles are on her cake this year?" Al asked.

"Al! You're not supposed to ask how old girls are!" Ed admonished. "Winry would throw the wrench if she were here!"

"I didn't ask directly, I thought I phrased it pretty well..." Alphonse protested.

Hughes had stopped walking, the blood draining from his face.

"What's the matter? You realize you're getting old or something" Roy asked his friend.

"I forgot to get her a cake!" Hughes burst out, looking mortified. "I have the most beautiful wife in the world and I'm so lousy I forgot her cake! Waht am I gonna do!?"

"Don't blow a gasket, the bakery on Jazz Lane is still open. It's only like three blocks from here." Ed supplied helpfully.

"But what if they don't have a cake ready? I don't know if they'll have time to make a cake if they don't happen to have one ready..." Hughes rung his hands.

"Get cupcakes then. I'm sure they have those." Al supplied helpfully.

"That's a good idea. Crap, we're running late..." Hughes checked his watch, weighing his options.

"What if I went and picked it up? I'd meet you guys right at the house. I know the way." Al offered.

"Alphonse, you're a lifesaver." Hughes grabbed a few bills from his wallet before they parted ways, crisis averted.

They walked a few more blocks. It was getting late, dusk had started to fall. They reached the corner and were about to turn onto Hughe's street when a car without the headlights on barreled into them from nowhere.

The last thing Roy remembered was Hughes shouting and him shoving Ed forward- out of harms way- before his body made harsh contact with metal, sending him rolling across the pavement like a ragdoll.

Over the ringing in his own ears, he realized he hadn't heard the screeching of breaks. If he'd had more of his wits about him, he'd have been able to piece together that it was because the car hadn't even tried to stop. It'd meant to hit all three of them. He felt something ooze down the side of his face and reached up to touch it sluggishly. Red... blood?

He wasn't sure. The takeout containers had been obliterated when the car hit them, it could've been blood or mariana.

He turned his head and a searing pain that started up at the base of his neck made his vision white out for a second.

He reached out, mouthing Ed's name on his lips. He caught a distorted glance- Ed, speaking to someone who'd gotten out of the car. Ed casta worried glance over at him, before he kept speaking to whoever it was who'd got out of the car.

Roy's mind officially clocked out, and his brain faded to static as consciousnesses left him, his cheek meeting the cobbled street below him harshly. Above them, the sky opened up and a freezing rain started to pour down from the sky.

Ed rounded the corner first. He heard the mechanics of a car hurtling towards them before he was shoved out of the way, dropping the takeout container he'd been carrying in the shock of the harsh moment and nearly faceplanting as he fell off the curb of the sidewalk and stumbled into the street.

He'd fallen forward and managed to catch himself with his hands, ended up on all fours in the middle of the street. He looked to his left- Hughes was laying prone on the pavement, not moving. Mustang was on his stomach on the ground, looking like a ragdoll splayed out in the street. His eyes widened. they'd been hit by the car? He wasn't sure how hurt they were- mariana sauce and spaghetti had exploded out of the takeout containers and into the street- only adding to the confusion of it all.

The engine of the car that'd hit them was still running. Ed was about to get to his feet when he heard the cocking of a gun behind him.

"Stand up real slow, Elric. Or I blow your brains out right here in the street." A grizzled voice spoke.

Ed froze for a moment. He didn't have to turn around to know he was speaking to Colonel Banks.

"I said- stand up!" a steel toed boot to his rubs sent him sprawling on his back, and he scrambled to his feet, staring at Banks defiantly.

The man looked- for lack of a better word- like shit. His blue uniform was wrinkled and covered in stains, his hair a mess. Dark circles beneath his eyes showed he hadn't slept in awhile, and his five o' clock shadow had grown out to respectable brown stubble on his chin. He smirked at Ed, flashing yellowed teeth with satisfaction.

"Finally. I have you right where I want you." he still had a revolver pointed at Ed's head.

Banks wasn't alone. There were two other men in the car with him- both had cove out and held their own guns at the ready, barking at one another in Drachman as they surveyed the two soldiers they'd hit with their car on the pavement in front of them.

"Okay. You got me. So now what?" Ed cast a glance over his shoulder at Mustang and Hughes, his heartrate starting to pick up. Hughes hadn't moved- Mustang was reaching towards him, looking at him.

Ed forced himself to tear his eyes away from his commanding officer and glared at Banks with as much hate as he could muster.

"Now I make you pay." Banks gave him a sadistic grin, brown eyes flashing with something unreadable.

The Drachmans had moved towards the fallen Mustang and Hughes, and Banks growled. "Ne- itcsh Ulegg!" he growled, motioning at the car. The men nodded, clambering back into the backseat.

"They have nothing to do with any of this." Ed said simply, looking at Banks.

"Oh, but they do. I ought to put a bullet in Mustang's skull for bringing the court martial to trial at all. And I'm sure the other one helped him." Banks looked at the fallen men in the street and laughed.

Ed reacted, bringing his hands up to clap.

"Freeze, Elric!" the gun was no longer on him- it was trained on the fallen Mustang. "You move and I kill him. Hands up by your head, nice and slow. Get in the passenger seat of the car, or I'll kill him."

"Alright! Alright, I'll do what you say, relax!"

"Quit talking and do it, Elric!"

Ed raised his hands, jogging over to the passenger side of the car and yanking it open. As soon as he did, one of the Drachmans from the backseat reached between the two front seats and dragged him in while the other locked the car door and trained his pistol on Ed's temple from the backseat.

Ed tried to stay calm. But it was hard when he could clearly see Mustang and Hughes lying on the pavement in front of them through the windshield. He was powerless to help them, though, being held at gunpoint. He needed to stay calm and keep his head if he was going to get lucky enough to get out of this.