Hopefully this chapter will make up for the last one! I really am sorry about the pathetic shortness of that... but you will be pleased to hear that I've just finished a massive project at school and so I have a lot more spare time now, so it won't happen again! Discaimer: I own nothing.

Archer scowled at the folder on his desk. He knew what had happened, Pride had told him... but he didn't have any proof, and somehow the brats were managing to block him at every turn. He knew the witness statement was a lie, the records forged- but there was no damn evidence!

He scowled again.

"Something wrong?" Kimblee asked, an amused smirk on his face. "Still having problems with the Elric brats?"

Archer did not deign to answer.

"You know, you could always just... bypass the rules."

Archer looked up sharply. "Oh?"

"They're suspects in a murder case... what if they made a run for it? Then justice would never be served. Or they might be targeted by the old bag's gang... they really should be in protective custody." Kimblee shrugged. "Not that it matters to me."

A slow smirk spread across Archer's face as he realised what Kimblee was implying. "Oh, no, I think you're absolutely right." he said. "We wouldn't want anything unfortunate happening."

"If you say so." Kimblee grinned. "I'll get Tucker."

There was no time to react.

They had broken the door in and marched through the flat. The Elrics were trapped: go with them peacefully, or be charged with assault on top of murder, perjury and harbouring a criminal.

"It's for your own safety," they were told. "Word may have got out that you are suspects, and you may be targeted- and if you did murder her, we wouldn't want you trying to make a run for it before you could be brought in."

They were backed up against the wall, with no choice but to do as they were told. As Maes Hughes, Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang watched, the Elric brothers were lead away in handcuffs.

"This isn't legal, Archer. The younger Elrics aren't even old enough to drink yet, let alone be jailed!" Roy was furious.

"Murder isn't legal either, Mustang. This is not your case any more." Archer said calmly, not even looking up from his desk. "Leave. If the Elrics brothers are innocent, then they have nothing to fear; I merely want to make sure they are under our protection at all times. It was easiest to bring them here."

"They're in prison cells, Archer! What happened to innocent until proven guilty? Release them now!"

"No." Archer looked up from his paperwork. "If I may remind you again, this is not your case, Mustang. It is no longer under your control. You should consider yourself extremely lucky that I don't report your actions to Commander Hakuro- I'm sure he'd be very interested to hear that you and your team were found in the Elrics' flat when they were arrested. I wonder why? Care to explain, Mustang?"

Roy grit his teeth. "We were investigating."

"Oh?" asked Archer. "How interesting. And why, may I ask, were you investigating my case? Surely you have your own work to do."

"Actually, we haven't been assigned a new case yet. We merely wanted to clear a few things up with the Elric brothers- like their alibi, which you have in front of you, and which you still refuse to acknowledge. They are innocent. You can't go round arresting innocent people!"

"They are not innocent until they are proven to be so, Mustang."

"Then they aren't guilty either!"

Archer stayed infuriatingly calm. "They will remain where they are, Mustang. You have no control over this case anymore, and whether you like it or not- they are not leaving. Now, get out of my office."

Roy's fists clenched. "Fine," he spat, "But don't think you've heard the end of this, Archer."

The cell was small; a bare, dreary concrete room with a barred window and a heavy door. The bunk he would sleep in was narrow and uncomfortable, the chair and table both dull, hard steel and bolted firmly to the floor, the toilet, shower and sink cracked and stained.

Envy drew his knees up close to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. It wasn't that he was cold- the cell was warm, if little else- but now, for the first time since this whole ordeal began, he felt utterly alone. Edward and Alphonse were in different cells, no longer there to support him or comfort him when he needed them to, no longer there to reassure him that he'd done the right thing, that it would all turn out alright in the end.

"Pipsqueak," he yelled uncertainly. "Al?"

There was no answering rant, no concerned call. There was not even an echo in response. Wherever they were, they couldn't hear him.

You're guilty, murmured a voice in his mind. This is all your fault. They wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you. You're guiltyguiltyguiltyguiltyguilty...

She was your mother, whispered another voice, malicious and cruel.

He curled himself up even tighter, and softly, quietly, all alone in his tiny cell, he began to cry.

Clack. Click. Clack.

Edward wandered to and fro in his cell, automail bare, clattering against the floor. They'd considered taking it away from him when they first arrived, in case he used it as a weapon- it was only thanks to the intervention of WPC Ross that they had let him keep it. He was grateful to her- he'd have gone insane if he was stuck in here, forced to hop or crawl whenever he needed to leave his bed. Being imprisoned was bad enough without being humiliated as well.

Click. Clack. Click. He wandered how Al was doing, if Envy was okay. If they hurt his little brother- or his older brother, for that matter...

Clack. Click. Clack. He wandered if they'd get out of here- or if Archer would keep them here forever.

Alphonse sat on his narrow bunk, swinging his legs. He hoped Edward was behaving- knowing him, he'd pitch a tantrum at an officer and get himself in maximum security or something. He hoped Envy was okay- he'd been pale as a ghost when they were arrested. He wandered what Mr Hughes and his friends were doing about it- he knew they wouldn't abandon them. After all the trouble they'd gone to, just to keep them safe- he was sure they were trying to get them out right now.

He was sure. Absolutely sure. Not worried in the least. He trusted them, Mr Hughes, Mr Mustang, Ms Hawkeye- they would be fine. They would.

He swung his legs a little harder, kicking up dust.

They were fighting to get them out right now. Or at least, he hoped they were.