A/N: *waves* Hi everyone! I'm so so sorry for how long it's been since I last posted. Life happened. 'Nough said. Today is my first day with internet after five days without it and since I finally finished the chapter I thought I'd go ahead and post it in celebration! :) I'm still not fully satisfied with it, but I figure I just need to post it and quit fussing with it. So please excuse any mistakes.

Hope y'all enjoy!

Chapter 3

Edward groaned and shifted uncomfortably in his hiding place. He'd been pleased to find that the thief's next target, an expensive home with an extensive lawn and garden behind it, had such foliage for cover. Finding a tree that gave him a clear view of the house and the grounds, Edward had settled in to wait for his prey. But that had been over an hour ago now. Where was this guy? Edward knew he wasn't wrong about the time of day this diamond thief struck, so where was he?

A shiver raced through him and he pulled his coat tighter around himself. Why did it have to be so cold? It was mid-September and shouldn't be this cold yet. Edward would much rather be back in the dorm, wrapped in a warm blanket and sleeping, not out here freezing waiting to catch some lame thief for Colonel Lazybones. He ignored the niggling little voice in the back of his mind that pointed out being out here was his idea in order to show up his superior.

He was drawn from his internal complaints by a sudden shadow appearing at the far end of the garden. Grinning, Edward shifted into a better position to move. Finally! He waited, eager to see the thief he was going to be catching. Only he saw nothing.

Frowning, Edward scanned the garden again but saw no one. There. Something was moving: the shadow. Now uneasy, Edward squinted to see better. Yes, there on the main path of the garden was a shadow with nothing visible that could be creating it. The shadow looked like a man, kind of. It was unnaturally large on top and it was barely possible to see the head. A hunchback? Like in that book Al was reading a few weeks ago?

Edward gave himself a mental shake. Don't be an idiot, he scolded. That was just some lame fiction focused on over describing some dumb religious building more than telling an actually good story. This was not fiction and he needed to focus.

The shadow was moving towards the house at a steady trudge as if it was weighed down…

That was it! It was the thief carrying something heavy. Edward scowled. But what could he be carrying that was that heavy or that big? He didn't remember reading anything in the file that indicated the thief using any tools. The police weren't sure how their 'Diamond Malum' was taking the diamonds. But the better question in Edward's mind was how the thief was only a shadow on the ground!

It had to be alchemy. But what kind exactly?

He tapped his finger on his chin, watching as the shadow approached the extensive back porch of the house. That's when he saw it, the wink of dark cloth on stone. He straightened. No longer watching the ground where the shadow was, Edward trained his eyes on air above it. He saw the cloth a few more times and was gradually able to make out the outline of a person walking, carrying something that was a lot bigger than a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. The thief was camouflaging himself! Edward had never heard of alchemy being used in precisely this manner before. It was certainly clever and explained why the MPs had not found the man. They'd probably walked right past him a few times given the number of robberies.

Edward smirked. Well, this thief who thought he was oh-so-smart had just been found out!

The thief was nearing the large back patio. Quietly, Edward slid down from his hiding his place in the tree. Peering out from the bushes, he searched for the flickering motion of the dark cloth. He found it on the patio steps. As the thief ascended, Edward slipped around the bushes and closer to his target. He would have preferred capturing the thief from a distance, except his headache made him hesitate to perform a transmutation so far away. Besides, he was curious to see how what the Diamond Malum was carrying.

He crouched behind a particularly large bush and waited.

The burglar paused at the top of the steps and dropped his disguise. He looked remarkably ordinary, with short light brown hair and a square, bearded face. His clothes, on the other hand, were more interesting. All black, the cloth seemed to absorb the light around it, making it difficult to see clearly. The thief had lowered his burden to the ground. A long piece of the same dark cloth tied around the top of the sack ensuring it remained closed. That must have been the cloth he saw while the man was disguised. Edward watched in silent confusion as the thief positioned the large sack on the patio until he was apparently satisfied.

Then, standing straight he moved toward the door. As he did, Edward caught the telltale alchemic light in the man's hand before he once more disappeared from view. If Edward had not known the thief was there he would have thought the wind had blown the door open when it slowly creaked open and shut. The thief had not made a sound. He suppressed a shiver, this time not from the cold. Whoever this alchemist was he was very good at what he did.

With the thief gone inside the house, presumably to find some diamonds as he was named for, Edward took the time to examine the sack left on the porch.

It was abnormally long and the shape was definitely not that of any tools he could think of. Actually, it looked remarkably…human like. But that was ridiculous. He'd seen the file. There was absolutely no mention of anything like this. Surely if something like that was at the scene it would have been noticed by the police, incompetent as they were.

The teenager crept closer, disregarding the mounting tension in his chest. He paused, listening. Given the speed the other crimes were committed Edward probably didn't have long until the thief came back. Still, he had to be sure. He couldn't leave without first confirming exactly what the thief had brought with him.

Edward was at the edge of the porch now. There was nowhere for him to hide if he got any closer. The patio was unfortunately large and exposed, particularly where the sack was. He hesitated. His head was still pounding something fierce and his body felt sluggish. Maye he should just get ready to trap the thief and inspect the bag later. Except the thief was an alchemist and alchemists, especially one using a type he'd never seen, tended to have more than one use for their alchemy. A skilled crook like this had to have brought the bag for a reason and he'd needed to know why before he captured him. The last thing he needed was the man pulling an unexpected trick courtesy of his mystery bag.

It was a flimsy excuse at best, but Edward pushed the annoying little voice away that said this was a bad idea. With how much his head hurt it wasn't hard. Edward glanced at the door one more time and then crept up onto the porch towards the sack.

A groan froze him in place.

What was that?

Another groan and this time the sack moved. Edward barely swallowed a yelp as he stumbled back. The sack was alive!

It's not alive, he scolded himself. What's in it is alive. His stomach pinched like an empty balloon inside him. Taking a quick fortifying breath, Edward approached the sack again, kneeling down to untie the knot. The thing inside the sack was quiet for the moment and the teenager wondered if he'd imagined it. When he got the tie loose and opened the bag to find a head full of greasy, mousy brown hair, he knew he hadn't.

The Diamond Malum had brought a person with him to the crime scene.

Somehow, Edward managed to pull the sack down far enough despite his shaking hands to see the captive's face and found a thin, dirty, bearded face. There was blood on the side of his head where the man had apparently been struck and knocked out. Questions flooded the young alchemist's mind that left him dizzy from the intensity. Why bring an unconscious man to the place the thief intended to rob? For what purpose? Surely someone would have noticed something at the crime scenes…

"Hello reviled one."

Startled from his thoughts, Edward whipped around. Only he moved too fast and the earlier dizziness swelled. Vaguely he saw the black color of the Diamond Malum's cloak and realized he'd been caught. Wheezing, the teenager staggered back. Then he was falling and everything went dark.

When Edward woke it was to a fierce migraine and ache throughout his body. He groaned. What happened? He felt like he was run over by a car and then trampled by a horse for good measure.

He tried to press his hand to his aching head only to find he couldn't move it.

Confused, the teenager forced his eyes open. Above him the sky was a pale blue with a few fluffy clouds going by.

Twisting, Edward looked up to see his hands secured above his head with rope that disappeared into a brick path. His hands were too far apart for him to have a chance of clapping and using his alchemy. The rope dug into his flesh wrist as he pulled, trying to get loose. There were similar bindings on his legs, he found a moment later as he tried to use them to gain leverage. He was stuck.

How did this happen? It hurt to think, but Edward forced his uncooperative mind to search his memories. He remembered getting up this morning not feeling well. Safe to say he felt a hundred times worse now. So why had he gotten up? There had to be a reason, undoubtedly because of that damn colonel…

The mission! That's right, he recalled, there was a new mission on Mustang's desk and Edward had decided to…to take it early. Why did he…oh, that's right. His previous mission had been bad. Very bad. Lots of things destroyed and chaos caused and angry officers. He was in trouble and had wanted to have something to shove in his commander's face to distract him.

He had a feeling that had not gone according to plan. Vaguely, the young alchemist recalled going to a large estate and waiting to catch a thief. The thief had finally shown up but he'd been carrying something strange…

The man! Edward's eyes jerked open as the memories returned. He'd found an unconscious man in the bag the thief had brought to the house and he'd been caught by said thief.

Movement caught his attention as someone stepped into his line of sight. Edward froze. It was the thief.

"I am Schmidt," the thief said, voice pitched to what Edward supposed was to be kind. It actually only served to make him sound creepy. "You are one of the reviled, you poor soul. No one cares who you are. But I will send you on to be loved."

Edward gaped at the man. "W-what?"

"I had not expected to find another one so soon or one so young," Schmidt went on. Edward froze when the man bent down and patted his head. "You are truly fortunate. The path is yet open to take another homeward."

"Don't touch me!" The teenager spat, his mind reeling as he jolted his head away from the man's touch. Reviled? Sent on to be loved? This guy was nuts. No, insane. He had to escape. Schmidt, as the thief had named himself, seemed unconcerned with Edward's anger and turned away. The minute the thief's back was turned Edward pulled against the ropes once more, his fear lending his efforts strength. But it wasn't enough. He was exhausted only moments later, having to stop in order to catch his breath and let the hammering in his head slow.

Schmidt was looking at him again, a sickly soft look on his face that might have been compassionate. As far as Edward was concerned it did nothing to hide his insanity, which made it worse.

"Diamonds are forged in the earth for those who would seek their truth. Do you know what that truth is, little reviled one?"

"Quit calling me that!" Edward spat, jerking against the ropes. He winced as his headache spiked. "I'm not small! And I'm not reviled or whatever crap you're on about."

Schmidt didn't appear to have heard him at all. Continuing to do whatever it was he was doing. Edward turned his head to find out what, peering around Schmidt. He recoiled in horror.

The man he'd found in the bag lay in pool of blood and mutilated flesh beside him. The blood was already seeping into the sleeves of his black jacket. How he hadn't noticed before, the teenager didn't know. But he felt it now, that cooling ooze of blood sticking to his skin. And Schmidt was dipping his fingers in the blood and putting it on a diamond ring, speaking quietly to himself. Edward strained anew against the ropes, tried to at least break his automail arm free so he could clap and get away. It was no use. Even with adrenaline fueling his struggle, his body hurt too much and lacked its usual strength.

This can't be happening, he thought, fighting back panic. Everything was spinning in and out of focus. Panting, Edward desperately tried to think. He'd gotten out of tougher situations than this. What was wrong with him? Think, damn it, think! But the pounding in his head made it impossible, and he was aware once more of the biting cold that made it hurt to move, much less pull on the ropes binding him. His automail arm and leg especially hurt.

"You see your fate and fear? Don't. He too was unloved and I have now sent him on where he will no longer be hated."

"That's not—you—you murdered him!" Edward cried, aghast as he stared at the disfigured form. It looked like Schmidt had melted the man from the inside out. The parts that were still in once piece were marked with bio-alchemy and other symbols Edward did not recognize. Bile burned in the back of his throat and he tried again to yank free with no success. "What the hell did you do?"

Schmidt hummed absently, dipping his fingers in the blood and using it to draw on the ground closer to Edward. "I merely freed his soul. He was such a pitiful creature. So hated by this world. No one will notice, you see. They never do. How can they? Those that know love are cherished by those around them, not left forgotten in the dust."

"I'm not alone! I have a younger brother, you asshole!" Edward snarled, unnerved. Despite his proclamation, the thief's words rang in his head, piercing old wounds that he regularly buried and ignored. He shoved it all away as best he could, forcing his aching head to concentrate on trying to escape.

"You have quite an imagination, reviled one," Schmidt said with an amiable smile. "Surely if you were so well loved you, a child, would not have been here hiding and so ill. Not alone. The treasured child would surely be safe at home, under the care of their parents. And if you really loved this brother of yours, you'd be with him and not here, seeking the diamond path."

The man's words were like a knife in the gut. Edward struggled to breath, memories assaulting him of his mother's tender caress and comforting words when he was sick. Of her gentle smile and warm hug. Something he'd never have again. He'd tried and brought hell down on his brother and himself. And Alphonse… he'd damned his younger brother to be a soul trapped in a suit of armor, who'd had every right to hate him for doing such a thing to him. Now Alphonse couldn't taste, couldn't feel, and couldn't smell anything. And he could not sleep. Without his body, he didn't need those things and Edward hated himself for it. Despite that Alphonse was still by his side.

"S-Shut up! You don't know anything, you crazy bastard," Edward rasped, the guilt of his mistakes crushing him even as he attempted to refute Schmidt's words.

Schmidt didn't answer. He took the blood coated diamond ring and set is aside with care beside the corpse. Then he pulled a second diamond ring from somewhere in his cloak and began to murmur foreign words. It sounded like a chant.

Edward's muscles went rigid, a deep terror lancing through him. His throat was dry and his stomach churned inside him. Then Schmidt looked up and Edward saw death in his eyes. The killer came towards him.

"Stay away from me!" Edward screamed, frantically pulling against the ropes. "Get away!"

"Don't be scared reviled one. Your suffering is at an end. It is time to show you the way."

Edward's voice died in his throat as Schmidt loomed over him. There was absolutely nothing he could do. He was trapped, completely helpless.

Suddenly the rope on his wrists sparked and disintegrated, freeing his hands. Schmidt jerked back, face contorted in surprise. Edward stared back dumbly, scrambling to understand what was happening. A moment later the rope tying his legs met the same fate. He was free. But how?

"Move Fullmetal!"

Edward was obeying before he even knew he was moving. He rolled away from Schmidt and the corpse into the dirt alongside the path. He heard the snap of alchemy and Schmidt howling. Wide-eyed, Edward stared as orange fire encircled the man's arms and hands, effectively burning them and ruining his ability to attack. And just past him, standing on the garden path, was Colonel Roy Mustang.

Fingers poised to snap again, black eyes narrow, and jaw set in a dark scowl, the older alchemist looked absolutely livid.

"Surrender or burn," the colonel growled, chest heaving. The rest of Mustang's team, all with their guns at the ready, fanned out from behind Mustang to create a half circle around Schmidt.

Whimpering, Schmidt stared at his burned hands. Then, with an enraged scream, he slammed his hands into the ground. Despite his burns, the alchemy worked and the earth rolled beneath them. A gunshot rang out and the earth abruptly stilled as Schmidt dropped boneless to the ground.

The team rushed forward, surrounding the fallen perpetrator, guns still at the ready.

Distantly, Edward heard Lieutenant Hawkeye say, "He's dead sir."

Mustang must have answered, but what he said, Edward couldn't understand. His gaze was locked on the corpse of the man that he'd been tied next to. The rolling earth had moved the body towards the young alchemist, the blood sluggishly spreading out toward him like black hands.

Trembling, his head swimming, Edward couldn't think or move. He could barely breathe. He could only stare in numb horror.

"You idiot!"

The enraged shout finally drew Edward's attention. He blinked slowly as Mustang stomped over, unable to fully comprehend what was happening until a hand grabbed him by the shirt collar and yanked him off the ground. Suddenly the body and the blood were gone from sight, replaced by the living, and quite angry, visage of his commanding officer.

"What the hell were you thinking? You nearly got yourself killed!" Furious dark eyes bore into him. Edward's breath caught, remembering those same burning eyes demanding to know what he had done in the aftermath of hell, demanding he take responsibility for his sin. Mustang. Mustang had come for him. And he was furious.

The boy tried to swallow, but his tongue seemed to have doubled in size. The world around him spun in and out of focus as his stomach tried to climb out his throat.

Vaguely, he was aware of the grip on his collar loosening and falling to his knees. His body was jelly and he would have just collapsed completely as he started hurling except two hands caught him. One held him up and the other had pulled his hair back from him face. When at last the heaving stopped, Edward's head was drumming so hard he thought it was going to explode. Dully, the blonde felt hands gently guide him away from the mess.

"Damn it kid."

"C-Colonel?" Edward whispered, trying and failing to understand why the man was there. Nothing was making any sense anymore. He groaned, curling his legs up towards his stomach. Something wet was dripping down his face.

"Look at me, Edward."

Blinking hazy eyes, Edward tried to obey. A hand helped and tipped his chin up. Mustang's face swam in and out of focus. The older alchemist's dark eyes were filled with worry. No, that couldn't be right. The colonel was furious with him, not worried. Mustang was never worried, not about Edward. Just about his career and appearances. Yet he could not deny the man did appear sincerely concerned.

"Are you injured? Did he hurt you?"

It took a minute and Mustang repeating the question before Edward could answer. "I-I don't…think so." It sounded uncertain even to his ears. Edward tried to focus and assess his body, but he was too tired and hurting far too much.

"Hurts," Ed admitted, pressing a hand against his head. He withdrew it a moment later in confusion at the stickiness. Looking at his hand, his breath caught in dismay. It was stained red. Then it was gone from his sight, pushed down by a large gloved hand

"I don't doubt it. You're burning up. Can you stand?"

No. But Edward tried anyway. His legs wobbled beneath him and before he even got off the ground they gave out. He wasn't expecting to be lifted up a moment later. Instinctively, he grabbed on to the person who'd picked him up, in this case one Colonel Mustang. Hazy as his brain was, Edward found himself ashamed of being held like a child at first and then not caring. The man was surprisingly warm, and his grip on the young alchemist was strong and sure. For the first time in what seemed like hours, Edward felt safe. He buried his face in the colonel's shoulder as a shudder wracked his body and a sob caught in his throat.

"Try to take deep slow breathes, ok Ed? You're going to be fine." Mustang's normally even voice sounded strained, but he didn't know why. Edward sniffled and tried to do as he was told. Mustang was talking again, but Edward was too exhausted to figure out what he was saying. It was hard enough just trying to breathe like he was told. But there was something soothing in hearing Mustang speak, even when he didn't understand. It reminded him that he was safe. Gradually everything faded away, even the pounding in his head.

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think. :)

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