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.
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