Edward Elric ran.
He ran until the edges of his sight were blurring and he couldn't hear anything other than the thrum of his pulse pounding in his ears. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest as he rammed straight into the wall of an alleyway. He pressed his forehead against the cold concrete for a few moments before dropping to his knees.
Closing his eyes, he let torrents of memories wash over him.
"Edward Elric, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of Paul Beckett."
Ed tried to steady his breathing, only to feel it hitch in his throat. He played the scene over once again in his head.
"Brother?" Al's horrified gaze turned to him slowly. "What is he talking about?"
Ed whipped around to face Al, returning his gaze before glancing over at Mustang.
He couldn't breath. He couldn't breath.
"I don't want to have to tell you again, Fullmetal." Roy's glare seemed to burn holes through him, and Ed's mind reeled.
"Wha… What are you talking about?!" Ed exclaimed, slowly backing away from Mustang and his team. Their gazes reeked of hatred and disappointment; Mustang's especially. "I didn't kill anyone!"
"We have cold, hard evidence, Edward."
"No. No, no, no, no, nononono…" Ed stared at the floor, his mantra of "no's" filling his head and senses. It wasn't possible! He had sworn to himself- to Al- that he would never kill anyone.
He didn't even realize he was running until he heard Mustang's angry yelling echoing throughout the halls of Eastern Command.
Ed let out something that sounded like a choked sob, ramming his head into the wall over and over and over again. He was gasping for air, staring down at his trembling hands with a terrified look on his features.
He didn't kill anyone… did he?
He shook his head to himself violently. It wasn't possible. He would rather give up two more of his limbs than kill someone. But then how had Mustang connected him to the murder that he and Al had inspected just a couple of days before?
It just didn't add up.
And what about Al? What would his little brother think? Would he believe Mustang or side with Ed? He couldn't risk going back to Eastern Command without getting arrested. Hell, he didn't know where he was now. He had been so stupid to just run; all it did was make him look guiltier.
He stared at his hands. They were still trembling, just not as much as they had been before. Shakily, he rose to his feet and peered out of the alleyway he was standing in.
The sky was gray, and at some point it had started raining. Not many people were out, and the only noise besides the pounding rain was the occasional rumble of an engine as a car skidded past him on the street. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the alleyway and began to register where he was. He recognized the bakery near the train station… The train station!
If he could just get away from East City, then maybe he could call Al from an outside line and explain that this was just a big screw-up.
Where could he go? He couldn't go to Teacher's place in Dublith for obvious reasons. If he went to the Hughes' household, Maes would surely leak something about his whereabouts to Roy, intentionally or otherwise. Until he could prove his innocence, Ed decided to stay out of his superior's grasp for a while.
Where was a place he could lay low? After a few excruciating moments of thought, an idea struck him.
Without any hesitation, he dashed off in the of the train station.
Ed had no problem getting to the train station.
The hard part was getting on the actual train.
Since he had left all of his belongings in his dorm back at the base, he had no possessions, let alone enough cash to buy a train ticket. So, with no better alternatives to choose from, he opted to sneak into one of the storage cars at the back of the train, squeezing himself in between two crates filled with who-knows-what.
The train ride passed uneventfully and uncomfortably. Trying to move was near impossible with the position he was in, so he passed the time by flicking his pocket watch open and closed over and over again.
He counted along with the hands on the clock, immersing himself into thoughts of how he could prove his innocence.
When had the time of death been? Had he had an alibi for that time? Surely he must've been with Al.
And how had the man died? He was… shot, maybe?
Ed groaned. His case was going to be impossible to prove.
Ed hit his head on the side of the crate he was leaning against as the train let out a long whistle to signify their arrival. Shoving his watch back into his pocket, he squeezed himself out from between the boxes and slid open the train car door. He waited until most of the passengers had gotten off the train before making his way out from the car.
He dashed through the station, avoiding any familiar faces on his way out. After he had reached the familiar dirt path that had been engraved into his memory, he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. A wave of relief flooded over him as he trudged down the road.
He was safe here.
Ed knocked on the window. He made sure to not be too loud, though, as there was only one person he wanted to know of his whereabouts at the moment. Was that person even awake? The walk to his temporary hideout had taken him almost all of the afternoon, and Ed guessed that it was probably sometime around 11:00 PM.
He was jerked out of his thoughts as a familiar and very tired-looking face came into view.
"Ed?" The voice was slightly muffled as two hands shoved the window open. "What are you doing here?"
"Hey," He lifted a hand in an awkward greeting. "I'm sort of in a tight spot." He climbed into the room silently, his voice barely above a whisper.
"What? Don't tell me you broke your automail again."
He let out a sigh. "No, it's just…" Ed looked down at his feet. "I need some help."