Opening Doors by Dib07
Summary:
Post-Fullmetal Alchemist series.
To think that he may never have opened that door.
Warnings:
- Much of this story will contain mature and/or dark content not suitable for younger readers. Do not be frightened by what I write, but I am an adult writer and I do not shy away from what others may otherwise do so. Also, Edward. Yes. Edward.
Guest: Touché! I too have looked at some kidnapping fics myself and have been displeased at what I saw. Some are good, don't get me wrong, but others not so much. Each to his own. And I have to say, I feel complimented when you say that you find it a bit scary so far. I hope to achieve a darker aspect. And I am confident to say this fic is going to be quite a black sheep. So if you want to stay for the ride, I hope you're ready for the drop. :) Thanks for thinking of me so highly. I hope I continue to impress. The characters inspire me so much.
Chapter Three: Spiralling
"For God's sake, Lt. Havoc, out with it!"
"We've found Fullmetal's leg, sir. His automail leg."
"WHAT? WHERE?"
"In the local fields. You know, up in the north where Hemlock River is. Hawkeye usually walks her dog along it." He paused, expecting an inchoate reply. There was silence on the other end. "Mustang? Hello? Mustang?"
Roy stood there for several moments, stock-still as if he had been frozen in stone. Then he dropped the phone, shoved his arms in his black coat and was running across the hallway. He almost went flying into Hawkeye, who have him an appraising look. Her arms were loaded up in mundane paperwork that to him, as of this moment, meant as much as soil.
"Come with me!" He shouted at her, and, loyal as she was, she dropped her papers and ran with him.
His driving was skittish and ugly as the car went ploughing down the roads, often overtaking every other car they met with.
Hawkeye sat in the passenger seat, barely looking at the road. Her intentions were on him, but she said nothing. She suspected what it was that he had discovered, and relented from disturbed his racing thoughts.
He went through a signal light and kept going. The traffic was a blur. The car felt like it was flying along the asphalt. Hawkeye gently reached out and placed a hand on Roy's arm. His eyes were like hardened rocks of onyx, but he squeezed on the brakes and the car slowed to a more sensible speed as they approached the River of Hemlock.
The sun was extending its farewells. Roy wished it was brighter, wished he had more time to see the field in daylight.
He parked haphazardly, almost skewering his car with that of Lt. Havoc's. His and Armstrong's car was already parked in a little recess by the main field. There was another car there as well, but Roy didn't care for it. Without waiting for Hawkeye to get out or even to lock his automobile, he was off, dashing over a muddy field that was still boggy from last night's rain. It was easy to determine where he needed to go. Lt. Havoc, Armstrong and two other men were standing in the desolate field near the river looking terribly out of place. Blue uniforms against a backdrop of green and brown. Yellow strips of paper tape cordoned off a large section of field in a giant square, but the wind had already loosened one section. Mostly likely the tape would blow off completely by morning.
Roy got to them, out of breath. He resisted the urge to bent forwards, hands on his knees, but it took him many moments before he returned the salute they were all giving him: grimed faced as they were.
"You got here... quick." Lt. Havoc said with idle curiosity, a cigarette jutting loosely out of the corner of his mouth. "I just called five minutes ag..."
"Yes, yes! Now do your duty and show me Fullmetal's leg!"
Hawkeye blanched, but on the plus side, seemed relieved straight afterwards, believing that Roy had sped all the way here because they had found the corpse of Edward Elric. This was not quite so, yet.
In the midst of the investigators, undisturbed and relatively untouched, was an automail left leg. It lay in the grass and mud like a sacrificial thing. It shone dully, with mud caked into its crevices and fissures. It was half bent at the knee, the toes all accounted for, the heel imbedded in the mud as if it had been thrown down to rest.
When Roy looked down upon it, a small hope emerged like an air bubble rising towards the top of the water's surface. What if it wasn't Ed's automail at all? Automail wasn't a rare thing to have these days, what with conflicts, mining incidents and the aftermath of war. But his hope was a thin, fickle thing indeed. When he looked down upon it, he knew that it was Edward's before Armstrong had even opened his mouth.
"Führer, sir," said Armstrong, his eyes looking very sad and downcast, "a farmer found it an hour ago and reported it to the military thinking it to be a prank. We got here right away."
"Have you searched the area for more..." ...parts. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. His eyes flickered down to the metal leg.
"We have. Extensively. Our detective has been combing the river for more finds."
"It can't be Edward's." Havoc said almost cheerily. "No way."
"Did you measure it?" Roy snapped at them.
"Yes sir," returned Armstrong. "It's 24 inches from heel to thigh. It's Edward's all right. No one I know has smaller automail, and if I remember correctly, the measurement was the same on his latest health report."
Roy squatted down beside the object, his eyes locked onto the metal leg. It looked so alien, to lay here without a body. There were various dents and scrapes all over it. Not from recent maliciousness, but from Edward's recent history. A bang there, a ding here. There was one long dent running down the calf plating when Edward had been staggered back by one of Armstrong's mock battles. Edward had never beaten Armstrong, but they both had been fighting hard for whatever reason. Pride? To best enough? To impress the Führer? And Roy had noticed the cut then and there when Edward had gone into the showers. If it had been on his normal leg, the cut from one of Armstrong's rock spikes would have cut him to the bone.
"What the fuck is it doing here?" Havoc scratched at his head, pondering with a sullen look in his eyes.
"Maybe the poor boy has been taken from us by our enemies!" Armstrong was suddenly wailing like a child. "Oh the unbearable pain! To think that someone has abducted him! And taking him apart!"
Roy let them go about their sorrows. He really didn't care.
Hawkeye was beside him in a flash. She too was looking over the limb.
There was no blood on the stump where it ended to join up with the thigh. In fact, there was no evidence of foul play. This perplexed Roy. It had been taken off carefully. But why had it been dumped here, in the middle of nowhere?
"Perhaps Edward came by this way?" Riza suggested. "And dropped this off as a means to find him?"
Roy shook his head. "As much as I want to believe that, it isn't so. Look at the field, Hawkeye. Aside from Armstrong and Havoc trampling about the goddamn place, there are no other signs of footprints from Fullmetal. And his one leg as he hopped along, or at least his automail leg, would have been heavier, pressing easily into the mud. But there is nothing. There are lots of footprints around here, but nothing to suggest extra weight. There is however tire tracks."
Hawkeye stood up and looked. Sure enough tire tracks came close to the automail leg, but the two State Alchemists had done a good job trampling about the place, as indeed had the farmer when he had come up to find the leg.
"It was carried, and dumped here purposely." Roy continued with determined deduction. "But why? And so close to Central? If they wanted to keep us guessing, they could have gone up-state, and dumped it somewhere far, far away!"
"It could mean that Edward is still alive, whoever took him! They must have a motive!" Hawkeye argued, visibly pale despite the red of the evening light showering the scene. "Maybe they'll ring and request a ransom!"
Roy gave her a very curious look. When he did, her emotions quietened and she returned the stare with a calmer demeanour.
Roy stood erect. The leg looked so sad, and stupidly out of place. Like finding a dead animal in a child's playroom. He swallowed down a rising lump in his throat.
"We'll take it back with us to Central, and investigate it further. I want the rest of you to continue searching the area for more clues, even in the dark."
"Yes sir." The two men answered with resolute salutes. He knew they would not stop until he personally called them off. Their dedication was something to be admired. They weren't doing it out of orders. They were doing it because they loved Edward, despite the little alchemist's shortcomings. And it made him all the angrier towards whoever did this. He had never castrated anyone before, but when he found them, he was going to try and bloody well do it.
"And Alphonse?" Hawkeye asked out of the corner of his eye.
"What about him?" Roy growled. He bent down and gathered the leg into his arms. It was heavy, as was to be expected. The thought of one so little tolerating such a weight pulled at his mind. The joints clicked and clacked smoothly at the ankle, toes and knee, while the calf and part of the thigh were solid and true.
He carried it back with him to the car, face darkened with grief.
xxxxxx
The sky was as dark as black coffee. Riza Hawkeye made no complaint about staying. She could have been at home, taking a shower and going to bed. But she did not.
Roy had the leg on a wide, bare table. It had been cleaned and polished until it shone bright once more under the florid lamps. It may have been a bad move, washing away potential evidence. But he needed to know what was underneath the grime, and he felt that time was against them. If Edward HAD been captured, he could die. There were nasty, cruel men out there, men who had agendas, plots. Murder on their minds. Roy was sure he'd go stark raving mad if the next thing they found was Edward, cold, and very dead.
"What are you trying to find, sir?"
"I don't know." The Führer stated miserably. He had turned the leg over and over. The metal remained as blank as before.
I'm wasting my time. He thought with self-hate.
Knowingly, she passed him a magnifying glass. He gazed at her, gormlessly for a moment. Then he glided the magnifying glass over the leg, inch by inch with sweat-inducing concentration.
At the bottom of the automail's calf, before it joined up with the huge ankle joint were tiny scratches. At first Roy couldn't figure them out, until he realized he was looking at letters and not random scratches at all. He peered closer, reading them allowed as he scrutinised them; "M-E-R."
"Mer?" She said, raising a speculative eyebrow.
Roy drew back, astonished, his mind trying to grapple for the answer unspoken. "Mer?"
His finger traced over the indents. They had been scratched into the metal with haste. the lines were sharp – abrasive.
Riza looked at Roy with terrible solemnity. "He scratched those in letters. Probably with a coin or a screw. Which means he might not have been bound. Either way, Edward may have been trying to warn us of something."
"But what? What does 'Mer' mean, dammit?"
"It is very likely, sir, that he was unable to finish what he was inscribing."
"Yes, yes that makes sense." Roy stared at the inscription with irritation. MER? MER? Could Edward have meant Merry? Mercedes? Mermaid? Mere?
Edward was incredibly smart. The three letters had to mean something specific, but what?
"Well, at least we know we're dealing with a kidnapping." Riza said, folding her arms, "which is a lot more than we knew yesterday. If this keeps up, we may just find him. Dead or alive." She paused to gather her thoughts, and then added sternly, "You will inform Alphonse of this, won't you?"
He nodded. "Yes. I suppose I must. It is my duty to inform him of all that I find, even if he won't like it."
xxxxxx
The next day was pursued by the same poisoned desolation. Hawkeye was out taking notes from Roy's observations as they both strained over the area leading up to D block. The police were involved, as was a genuine detective named Ian Stone. Louis Armstrong would occasionally return with a tray full of tea in plastic cups. Roy didn't even taste the tea when he drank it down, but he did appreciate the warmth it brought.
Ever since yesterday evening, the winds had picked up and the temperature of the weather had dropped. More rain was predicted in the south.
"He could have just left, you know." Hawkeye hadn't been the first officer to suggest this, and neither would he be the last. Many were thinking that Elric's sudden 'vanishing' act had been one of desertion. Now and again someone went AWOL, but that was mostly during times of war. And there hadn't been a war in over ten years.
To think that such a hot-spirited alchemist like Edward had merely run away with one leg was a joke.
Ian Stone was one of those stern, seen-it-all-before types, and didn't like to be hurried for results. He had spent a particular amount of time near the road at the curb by the military's warehouses only some one hundred yards from Central itself. Many cars came in and out, mostly for transporting officers from place to place, and then there would be the delivery trucks, and the postman.
"There was something about Fullmetal before he disappeared." Roy placed his empty cup back on Armstrong's tray. He stared deep into Havoc's eyes. "He was the clumsy idiot as always, but he seemed... distracted. Even a little unhealthy. He was late reporting in that morning, and he was flustered. Truth is, he's always flustered about something. I don't know, Havoc. I should have paid better attention. But as to your earlier question, no, I do not think he simply 'ran away.'"
"But you were right with him, Führer." Armstrong said, "Why didn't he say anything to you? Surely it would have taken just a moment?"
"Yes, I know, it's odd. It was like he was in a great hurry to be going someplace." Roy scratched at his head in thought. To be honest, he had already been going over this problem in a perpetual circle, over and over in the hopes of finding something, but he never did. "Has that detective found anything unusual yet?"
"Nothing, my Führer." Armstrong truly looked sad, and distraught. Upon hearing the initial news before the 'leg incident' he hadn't wanted to believe it. He had fled his office, looking for the little blondie in case he had been missed or overlooked. Such things weren't that uncommon with a man so small. But the truth caught up to him, and he hadn't brightened up since.
It was curious how one little member had affected Central. "Nothing at all. No footprints, no witnesses, no signs."
"Right."
He sighed. Alphonse was waiting for the call: the call to confirm the findings of his brother, or the lack of it. He hadn't reacted well at all when he had seen his brother's leg. Roy had had to cover it back up again with cloth before taking it back to his car.
"At least there hasn't been a body." Havoc muttered quietly so that only Roy and Armstrong could hear. "So it's hopeful, isn't it?"
Roy turned his back on them and walked away. "I'll consider it 'hopeful' when we locate him, safe and sound."
xxxxxxxx
The days passed. And the days turned into weeks.
The investigation cooled off, though there were still many officers working around the clock for any leads on their little Fullmetal. But other duties had to be carried out, and dealt with. The whole of Command couldn't simply stop due to the absence of one member even though Roy wished it otherwise. He struggled with his work, and often found himself staring into nothing as he sat at his desk with piles of unanswered letters and assignments on his desk with a bottle of whiskey beside the stacks of paper. He felt that time was spinning out of his control as he sat, as still as stone.
Sometimes he couldn't get through to Alphonse. He expected the young boy to be out investigating on his own, and finding anything he could in the city. He was not the type to wallow at home and wait for news.
Roy picked up his bottle of whiskey. He had forgone tumblers long ago, and just drank straight from the bottle. The taste didn't affect him as it did all those weeks ago. It was the numbness that came with it that he was so addicted to.
After taking four big swigs, he settled the bottle back down and haphazardly wrote a scrawl that was supposed to be his signature on one of the letters. He hadn't even read the damn thing.
In exhaustion and disgust he pushed the letter away. He was the Führer. It was his job to keep Central on top. His job to set things right, and keep things from spilling over when a catastrophe occurred. But he was failing even at that. He could take time off, but what would he do then? Fly awake after another nightmare? Flounder about the parlour with a bottle of gin in one hand and a picture of Fullmetal in the other?
If he stayed in Central, he would get the latest news, if there was any...
If there was any...
He's been killed, I know it. His hooded eyes strayed to the bottle. Its dull brown glass caught the light of the bulb on the ceiling, making it shine. He must have. If he'd run into trouble, he'd have found a way to contact me or his brother. It's been four weeks, and no sign. We go back to work like nothing's happened, hoping he'll just turn up. I can't believe I miss the runt this much. I wish I didn't. I wish I didn't!
Out of blind rage he picked up his newest replacement-friend; the whiskey bottle, and threw it against the far wall, above his filing cabinet. The brown liquor exploded across the plaster like blood as pieces of razor-sharp glass rained down everywhere.
Upon seeing it smash, his instant afterthought was; gotta buy me another one.
Instead he cowered where he sat, blaming Fullmetal for everything.
His office door opened as fresh whiskey still ran down it in drips. Riza looked in on him with disdain on her face. Then she turned and saw the mess on the cabinet and wall.
Roy waited for the reprimands, the lectures. It was all she gave him these days.
Instead, her voice was unmistakably soft. "Go home, Roy. Get some rest."
~ Two weeks later ~
"Who have we got this time?" Roy tiredly looked over the report, but in all honestly he could barely read the charges. He was lucid, and numb from the drink, but no matter how much he put away, he could never get that sky-high feeling, or emotional freedom. Sometimes it only made him want to cry.
"The diamond trafficking asshole! We did it, Mustang! We got the bastard!" Havoc looked too damn cheerful. Too damn eager. "His old hag of a mother protected him, and yeah, we had to let her go. Not enough evidence that she was even involved, even though we knew it was her. But it doesn't matter now! We have the real deal! The criminal that's been below our radar for nearly a year!" Havoc just spewed out the words. Roy was barely keeping up.
They were walking down a cold, airily lit corridor. It was seven minutes past nine at night. Roy was done-in, and just wanted to cuddle up in bed and sleep on the waves of his own drunkenness. But work had to step in and cause a bit more hell before he could crawl away into some hole.
Ever since losing Edward, he had struggled to care about anything. He wept when no one was watching, and barely ate. Riza came over to his house often, if only to make him dinner to encourage his failing appetite.
"His name?" Roy sighed.
"That's the thing... he just won't give it. And we have a suspicion he's been working in a group. There's no way he could have handled this trafficking all by himself. But we don't know how many members, or their skill."
"Fine. Is he strapped up?"
"Yes. I did it, just in case. He's a strange one, Mustang. And he knows alchemy."
"Very well."
Roy and Havoc stopped in front of the iron interrogation door. There was a small gap near the top covered in bars, but Roy didn't waste his time looking in. He threw the door open and marched into the room.
Sitting by the metal table was a strange man indeed. It was hard to get a read on him. He was pale, confident in his posture, with black curly hair and a charming, handsome young face. His eyes however were small, flinty and dark. He watched as Roy and Havoc entered the room. Lieutenant Ross was already there, standing in the back with her arms folded.
The table was plain and bare, and shone from the light above.
Roy dumped the heavy file onto the table and sat down at once opposite the young man. His drowsiness was no good, he knew, and if Riza knew how stoned he was today, she most likely would have beaten him with her own gun. Luckily she was away on duty.
"I hear you were trying to sell diamonds today." Roy spoke first, without even looking at their captive. "You were getting sloppy. We've been on your trail for months now and you didn't think of moving town?"
"You don't scare me." Returned the man with his flinty stare. "I can sell what I like."
"The substances inside the diamonds are toxic and illegal. You think something like that wouldn't get under our noses?"
The man shrugged when Roy cast a look his way. "We use rare herbs, not deadly substances at all. They calm people. Make them soft and stupid. Many people who suffer the stresses of life can't get enough of them."
"What's your name?"
"I have many names. But what people like to call me most is simply: Lord Mercy."
Roy actually looked at him, and one corner of his mouth tilted upward in the beginnings of a stiff smile. "What are you, insane?"
"I cannot help it if that is my name." Replied their captive with terrible seriousness.
"Did your mother call you that name, by chance?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact she did."
Roy quickly flicked through the files. His mother had been found, and interrogated. But he had been too drunk and too full of black hate and loss to really take anything in. Sure enough, in amongst the notes taken during the interview, a 'Lord Mercy' was present in the scrawl.
Roy ignored his own mistake and riveted his drunken attention back on 'Mercy.' "Odd name. Why didn't you give it to my Lieutenant when asked?"
"Because they asked rudely." Returned Lord Mercy. "I do not react well to people who do not mind their manners."
Roy sat back in his chair, taking this usual suspect into perspective. There was little to read. Mercy stared back blankly in all readiness, it seemed.
"Why were you selling diamonds, Lord Mercy?"
"Because a lot of people like pretty things, don't they... Lieutenant?..."
"Führer." Roy corrected him.
"Of course." Mercy said with a thin, crooked smile. "Yes, I myself am a victim to pretty things. I cannot help myself. But when I have it, I cannot help but mar it, maim it. I don't know why really. Oh yes I'll keep it pretty for as long as I like. As for the herbs, I've already said what they do."
Roy sighed impatiently. "The diamonds, Mercy. I don't care what else, herbs or no. Pretty diamonds they may be, but why the chemical? It can kill, and we certainly don't endorse it. Do you mean to sell it as a weapon?"
"Oh goodness no, nothing like that." At that he smiled as if he could hardly take the Führer seriously, and found it hopelessly funny to do so. "We like to fund ourselves, keep ourselves wealthy. We acquire the diamonds from the mines in the west, and transport them down here. Then we mix in some chemicals, add it together, and do some alchemy! Such fun! Then we sell them off to help people. To soothe them. Make them... numb."
"It's an attack." Roy said bluntly. "On us. On the military. On the State."
Mercy laughed. "Oh what imagination you have! I wish my objectives were as directed and as industrial as you say, but really they are not. If I wanted to destroy the military, well, I would go different ways about it. For a start I'd put it all in your food. Not diamonds. No. I just want to calm the neighbourhood. All the same, it really makes no difference to me. Money is all in the great scheme of things."
"You like to toy with people..." Roy's head was starting to clear. How was this man admitting to everything so quickly? Without a fight? There had to be a catch. It seemed too easy, too simple, almost as if this man wanted to get captured. Wanted to confess.
"Yes, I do, I suppose. For their own good, mind." Mercy continued. Roy safely gathered that he liked to talk. "I think that if there was less people in this city, we'd all be better off, wouldn't we? Less stress and order for all."
"Right, right." Roy rubbed at his aching head and tried to write some things down, but much of the information just seemed to spill away again. "And who else are you working with?"
"It doesn't matter who else I am working with, does it?" His eyes flashed over to Havoc, then back to Roy's. "I never trust them. Once I got the diamonds, I dismissed the ones who weren't useful. The depraved I kept with me, and they stayed at home, to fuck with whomever they pleased. And I liked to watch. And if it excited me enough, I joined in."
Roy swallowed hard. He had heard enough. "Get him out of here. Throw him in the cell furthest from the door."
Havoc went round the table and hauled Mercy to his feet. "Good evening to you both." Mercy had the gall to say as if he was an admirable guest. "I hope to see you soon."
"Get going." And Havoc kicked him forwards.
Once he had gone, Roy looked dejectedly at Ross. "Where did you guys find him?"
"We were lucky, sir." She said. "We had just finished checking Jewel Street, as you requested, and we saw this guy leaving this posh estate with two big cases. Anyway, as we looked on, one of the cases popped open and all these diamonds came flooding out. We put two and two together, and Armstrong and I grabbed him. The thing is, he never made a run for it. He was calm the whole time."
Roy let out a yawn. He hadn't meant to, but it was late and he wanted to go home. "And his house?"
"The door was shut, and we figured that since we had him, we'd take him to Central straight away. Besides, we needed a warrant to go inside. So I applied for one as soon as we returned. It should be on your desk, sir. Once you've signed it, we can go now and have a look around, if you like."
Roy groaned. The very thought of leaving his station, and wasting his time going through some man's house in the middle of the night was just too much. He was too drunk, and too dumb with exhaustion. Besides, the house would still be there in the morning. They had the guy in custody after all. And that was enough.
"Tomorrow." Roy helplessly yawned again. "Fucking tomorrow. You are dismissed Lieutenant Ross."
Ross looked a little startled by his choice, but then relaxed and nodded. Better to do it when they were both fresh, and in daylight.
"Very good, Führer. Until then." She started towards the door, then stopped beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He knew what she was about to say, felt it in his heart, and yet he could not deny the hope that stirred, as much as he hated it. To him, she took forever to speak. "About Fullmetal... we couldn't find anything today. I'm sorry."
He didn't react, and just sat there, cold and alone.
She took that as acknowledgement and walked on through the door.
Roy put his head in his hands, his body racked with sudden, terrible weeping.
Dib07: Thank you to those who have recently joined me in reading this. It's gonna get crazy! And sorry for the huge dollops of Roy and Roy and well, Roy. ;)
Don't worry, it's gonna be something else!
