From What We Once Were

Chapter 5; Clue Scroll

Bane; "Congrats! You have fed me at least 8 reviews, and so, here you go! Enjoy !"

Her pride had been taken from her that day; she had been made to plead for her food, now reduced to stale bagette. He had kicked her again, told her if she wanted anything, she'd have to beg for it. If it had not been for the steady ache of hunger, she would have kept her dignity. As it was, she sat in the corner of her chamber, full, but slowly slipping away with the throbbing of her ribcage.

The blade had been left as a temptation; when they knew they'd left her too weak to make her own way across the room to reach it. Too many thoughts of the knife crossed through her mind in the long forsaken hours of the night; of what she would do if she ever closed hands on it.

Winry's wish that Edward would not search for her seemed more urgent now. For her, it seemed, it would be too late, whether he came or… not. And she could not think of any worse torment than having to see the expression he would wear upon his face if—when she died.

Hawkeye passed a bar on her way down to the Rockbell's residence; Festered. It had an odd name, and whereas attracted odd people. Some were just there for a lick of alcohol, some for tastes of illegal substances, and still others for reasons they kept to themselves. It hadn't been questioned by the State as of yet for many so-called 'reasons'. One of which, or more accurately (truthfully), the only of which, was because there were tales of strange thugs that met there often. It was on a regular basis, in fact. Every Tuesday, to be specific. Even the State knew to stay out of their territory. And with their pride, it wasn't something that occurred often.

She shuddered, reminding herself that it was Sunday, but even if it wasn't… She was too trigger-happy to have really cared.

"Al, back away."

"Brother, I'm just trying to—"

"Be that as it may, Al, you're not helping; you're crowding me. Give me some space."

Dismay was set firmly into the younger sibling's face. Edward was simply cranky… but then, the task was all but invigorating.

"But…Brother, you've been working at it for a whole half-hour. What makes you think anything else you try is going to—"

Edward had been pulling at the tweezers for a good fifteen minutes. It had, due to great misfortune, gotten stuck in the attempt at removing the bullet from Pinako's well-riped cranium. With a great 'oomph!',

The tool was extracted, along with the minutely rounded metal projectile. Edward was flung backwards, and eventually splattered with finely-perfumated 'juices' that had also been.

He might have even held an air of triumph… had he not recalled the fact that he was pulling ammunition out of a dead body. And, had he not assumed that the fragranced fluids were as ill suiting to his complexion as they felt.

"Great. Now I just need to learn to pull a rabbit out of a rotting brain, and we'll be all set."

"Brother, that's good and all… but how is this helping Winry?"

"It's helping Winry because we can track where the bullet was bought from, and hopefully we can figure out who bought it."

Phone books were scattered around the reciever, now making its empty and aggrivating 'Breaaaaaaa' cry. It had been two hours since the fatal extraction, and all they had to show for it was a consistant recalling of, "I'm sorry, that information is classified." And, "What kind of bullet, did you say?"

"What do we do now?"

"Well, Pinako's not getting any older."

Alphonse was at loss of this humor, only sat against the wall, staring at her. Was this Brother's great idea of an autopsy? If so; it sure didn't match his.

There came an abrupt knock at the door. Both siblings froze, tension rising massively. "Mr Elric? Miss Rockbell?"came a muffled voice. Edward was the first to rise. He made his way to the door, almost certain that he recognized that tone…

He was slow to open the threshold at first, giving into the heavy frame's weight after a moment, letting it swing to its wide potential. At first, he was shocked by the figure that met him; Hawkeye. What could she be doing here? But that silent inquiry was quickly answered. She was there to see them. The shock was swiftly replaced by his short temper.

Bane; "Short! Ha!"

A: 0.o?

Bane; 0.0…"Er… the voices… inside…my head…thought… that was…funny… I…heh…didn't…" -cough-

A; -.-' "Sure, Bane. Sure they did."

"Did Mustang send you here?"

It was about this point when the rancid fumes escaped from the doorway. Edward, already used to the fragrance, was still unperturbed. Hawkeye, on the other hand, was just becoming acquainted with it. She clutched a gloved hand to her mouth and gagged, much like they had done.

"Didn't he?"

She nodded, attempting still to regain her composure. In a small measure of kindness, Edward stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. He could see Hawkeye breathing slightly more heavily than she had been a moment ago. Too much for you, Hawkeye? He thought to himself.

"Why?"

"His orders, Edward. The Colonel wanted me to check up on you two."

"Then be a dear and tell him to go fuck off."

Her gaze was now reproachful.

"Edward, when speaking of superiors, you'll find it's in your better interest to use some level of respect."

"He's not my superior anymore. He's just a sick bastard who's really starting to piss me off."

Her look of confusion set him to smirking. So the Colonel hadn't told her?

"What…are you implying?"

"I'm implying my resignation of the State."

The silence that then passed between them was deafening. Edward glanced up at Hawkeye, wondering what her next words would be.

"Then I need to speak with Mrs. Rockbell."

"What for?"

"The housing of you and your brother."

Edward leered at her.

"What the hell for?"

"You forget that you are still underaged. As part of the State, we had you under our supervision and responsibility. But as of now, that is no longer in effect."

"And that would mean?"

"That would mean that—"

"Brother!"

Edward stiffened, turning around to make his way back into the house. Al sat trembling beside the body, staring up wide-eyed at his older sibling.

Bane; "Pinako twitched, sitting up. Her corpse frail, the movement was sluggish. She was awake—but far from alive…"

A; "Have you been watching Shaun of the Dead again?"

Bane; -shiver- -shifty eyes- "No." –shifty eyes-

"Al?"

The boy didn't answer. Alphonse simply pointed at Pinako's upper jaw.

"Yes, Al. I think we've established that she's not talking."

There came a gasp from the doorway, but it was mainly ignored. Hawkeye was left to form her own conclusion. Alphonse, despairing of his older sibling's lack of observation winced as as he tilted the decaying head back. There was nothing left to do; before Ed could object, he stuck his hand further down the throat. Al fought back the traces of vomit he now tasted at this revolting sensation. His palm felt sticky, and perhaps unnaturally moist. It was another moment before his fingers met the thin, inch-long scroll.

Al's hand re-emerged, covered in unknown fluid, but grasping something even Edward hadn't noticed. A thin scrap of parchment met his gaze. Browning, tainted, and disgusting. Unrolling it, Al read aloud;

" Festered; Every Tuesday; 6:00."

Riza's eyes brightened slightly. Edward relaxed a little, and Al couldn't stop trembling.

"So, Hawkeye. You mind leaving? We've got some things to take care of."

"Yes, Edward. I do. You owe me an explanation."

Pushing her out, Edward kindly ended the conversation with a snapped, "I don't owe you anything." The door was promptly closed behind her.

"Brother?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't there a place in Resemboul called Festered?"

"Yeah, it's not far from the Train Station. We've passed it a couple of times."

"So what are we going to do, Brother?"

"Well, it's Sunday. What do you say we give Pinako a proper burial? We can get some rest before Tuesday."

Al nodded, still white-faced. It would be a long while before he ceased to shiver.

Bane; "Okay, I'm gonna' get grounded for the next month tonight. Yes, I know, I'm truly sorry. I made 3 A's and 4 B's on my report card. And my folks felt that I didn't try hard enough, so I'm going to be in exile (yes, groundage). But, while I'm off the computer, I'll hand-write a couple of chapters! And when I get back, it'd be really nice to find some reviews waiting in my inbox. " –hint!- -hint!- "And, to earn the next chapter, Maybe 10 reviews?"

A; "Noooo! You can't do this to me! Who else can I call?" –sob-

Bane; "Anyway, you got clues this chapter; and you'll get a very GORGEOUS Edward kicking down walls to find Winry next chapter. Oh, here's something nice for you to think about; a hint! Al's trembling? Yeah, that is a major spoiler for the next couple of chapters! The way he was paled after-wards, and his reaction… )!"

Drumstick; "Ooooh. This might get interesting."

Bane; "And by the way, I love everyone who reviewed. But I just wish to comment on something. Now this is just an observation; I still luv you all. But, a lot of you focused more on my requirement of 8 reviews than the actual reviewing of the story. I seriously want to know what you think, but it feels good to know you go nuts waiting for the next chapter. I love when you people tell me stuff you liked or didn't like about each chapter. Is there something you really liked and wanted to point out? Did I do something wrong with the sections? What did you think was funny? What do you think will happen next? Did one of the characters say something you thought was weird? Is my style okay, or is there something else, some new connection you'd like to see? HOW MUCH(or WHAT) WOULD YOU DO FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER? All of these things, I love to hear from my reviewers (and more). So review. Make an authoress happy!"

A; "I sure wouldn't do much."

Bane; "As a side-note, Anime-Lover-95, thanks. A and I have settled our dispute over a phone conversation. Your help was greatly appreciated."