From here on out we finish the first arc of this nine-arc story and start the main vehicle of the plot. Please enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Chapter 4

If there was one thing that Ed hated, it was being wrong. Part of that was attributed to his natural-born stubbornness. He refused to accept, on principle, that he could be wrong. Winry and Al, of course, chose to take every opportunity to try and prove he could be wrong. They often succeeded, even if Ed didn't want them to. The other part was that Ed was rarely wrong. He knew his stuff and how to come out with the right answer. That's why there was no way that Ed could be wrong.

But Edward Elric was wrong. Now he had to make sure he was right the second time.

"Hey, Ed, watch it!" Heinkel roared as Ed rushed past him.

"Sorry, Heinkel, no time to waste!" Ed called back, sweeping past his desk to drop his papers. Heinkel left the room muttering, causing Darius to look up from his own desk.

"What's got your hair in a knot?" Darius called but Ed had mostly blocked him out, tumbling through the evidence containers with abandon. He couldn't be wrong. He couldn't be. But he had to know for sure. With a yank he dragged out the container he was looking for and, like a possessed man, proceeded into the lab. He didn't notice the odd look Doctor Marcoh threw him as he set up shop around a microscope and got to his frenetic work. The blood was rushing to his head, and his heart was pounding faster than he could recently remember it. It took him a whole minute to realize that he was actually reeling.

"Focus, Elric, focus!" he commanded himself, and looked into the microscope. "Definitely the molecular properties of blood: fat, iron, urea…but there's something…Damn it!" In an act of anger, Ed slammed his hands on the lab table, cursing fluently under his breath. His fists clenched and it took all his self-restraint to not dismantle the microscope in front of him.

"What's wrong, Edward?" Doctor Marcoh asked loudly and Ed looked at him. The older man's face was clearly lined with shock at his younger companion's outburst. "It didn't seem like you to-"

"The blood," Ed told him pointedly. "I was wrong." Marcoh cast him a concerned glance as he ambled over to the microscope. While Marcoh looked at the object of Ed's frustrations, the young forensics specialist endured a moment of self-loathing.

"It's animal blood; pig, if I'm not mistaken," Marcoh said, straightening up to look squarely at Ed, who was practically beating himself over the head.

"I know!" he screamed and Marcoh frowned at him. This prompted Ed to take a deep breath and relax himself before he said any more. "I know that now. But I had just assumed it was the victim's blood."

"Then, think, Edward: why did you make that assumption?" Marcoh asked him sternly and Ed thought for a moment. He was always one for thinking rationally (unless he was fighting, then all bets were off the table) and so there had to have been a reason that he had thrown away the blood as the victim's. There was only one reason why that could have possibly been the case.

"It was all over the crime scene…" Ed mused and Marcoh nodded, silently urging him to continue in his thought processes. "The entire crime scene was practically covered in blood, leastways where the victim's body was, but I just figured it was the victim's."

"So don't berate yourself for what was a logical assumption."

"Wait…" Ed mumbled out, holding up a finger. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…I remarked to Detective Mustang that there should have been very little blood, because the victim was killed elsewhere. There was a lot of blood around the place where the body was dumped. Maybe…just maybe, it wasn't our victim's; maybe it wasn't even human blood altogether."

"So…what're you thinking?" Ed jiggled his leg a little as he thought about his next move.

"I have to make sure…" Marcoh eyed him with a slight twinkling in his eyes and Ed grinned at his new boss. "Hope you don't mind Doctor Marcoh, but I've gotta make a run down to the crime scene."

"Not a problem." Ed uttered a quick word of thanks as he sped from the lab, quickly grabbing his keys, and headed up to the police station in general. As he ran up the stairs, he couldn't help but hear his co-workers speaking. "Darius, with Ed gone, I need you to get this evidence report to Detective Kaufman and District Attorney Hakuro."

"You've gotta be kidding me! You serious, boss?" Ed stifled his laughter, opting instead to keep heading forward to the outside air of East City. The city wasn't particularly beautiful at this point of the year but it was better than the searing heat of South City or the blistering cold of North City. The only thing Ed didn't like was the monotony of the city: tall steel buildings that stretched on to the rolling plains of Resembool, or to the river that was the conduit for all of Eastern Amestris. Most people in the country understood that East was all about manufacturing, and contained various industries like steel, meat packing, and all manner of production facilities. The ending result of this was the grey uniformity of East City that was bad enough when it was sunny; even worse given the near perpetual rain. Ed was grateful that today was the former.

As the young forensics specialist started his car, he ran an agitated hand through his golden locks. He had screwed up, and he just hoped that no one else would pay the price for it. It wasn't the first time he had made a mistake, and despite wishing it would be the last, he knew that wasn't possible. After all, with so many variables entering into the equation that solved a case, things got mixed up and lost quite often. This meant that somewhere along the line, Forensics didn't have the necessary data to do their job right. This inevitably led to mistakes. That wasn't the problem, however. Instead, the real issue was that a mistake at a corporation only meant bankruptcy; a mistake on the force meant lives. And for all that Ed could remember he had only made one major mistake in his career that had allowed the killer to walk away. He wasn't blamed for it; the whole situation had been tricky to begin with, and he was still relatively new to the force at the time. Either way, he had made a mistake that one day and it cast a pall on his own outlook for his career. Now, he was determined to not make that kind of mistake again. He was going to help catch The Chopper and make sure no one else would be killed.

The air started becoming hotter and Ed realized he was closer to Liore than he had originally thought. Not a fun ride either way, but Ed was just grateful that it was a simple one. With Liore being such a big city after all, and an important stop on the eastern trade route, it made sense that a highway stretched all the way from east City to there (but the recent bouts of construction didn't help). Ed quickly found parking near an apartment complex and jogged over to where memory served the crime scene was. He stopped short slightly, as he saw the two uniformed officers standing in front of the yellow police tape.

"Excuse me," Ed called, finishing the rest of his journey over to the scene. The two cops stationed on duty immediately reached for their guns and Ed threw his hands in the air. "Whoa, no need for an itchy trigger finger." One of the cops, a woman with black hair, stopped herself from grabbing her gun but didn't relax in her stance.

"Who are you and why are you here?" she barked and Ed quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge.

"Edward Elric, Forensics." He handed his badge over to the woman, and both she and her partner leaned in to take a look at it. "So…can I pass?"

"It looks real," the black-haired cop commented while her sandy-haired companion nodded dubiously.

"What do you mean by that? Of course it's real!" Ed snapped, snatching his badge back from her. "Honestly…"

"Well, you do look kind of young and you wouldn't believe the stunts that kids pull. I mean, I tried lots of things when I was younger-"

"Don't compare me with you," Ed said with a glare toward the sandy-haired male. "I'm not pulling anything. You can call my boss, Doctor Marcoh if you'd like. Though I'd rather not have that happen."

"Hey, I didn't-I mean-"

"It's fine. Let's just calm down," the cop who had initially questioned him said, folding her arms, "and Brosh, relax. Go ahead and look." Ed mumbled his thanks as he dipped under the tape to the alleyway beyond.

"I'll be fine, you guys can go if you want," Ed told them nonchalantly but the two simply stood there.

"I don't think so. We're under strict orders from Head Detective Mustang to not leave the scene of the crime."

"Mustang…of course," Ed breathed out with animosity. "What, does he think the killer is going to return to the scene of the crime?" Despite his question being accompanied by a laugh, neither of the cops showed any sign of humor, the black-haired one merely sharpening her glare.

"I can't say what his intentions are, but we have to patrol this area until we are relieved of duty."

"Hey, Mari-Ross, maybe we should just let him do what he wants. He is Forensics."

"We're still cops. Grow a spine, Denny!" Ross snapped at her companion and Ed rolled his eyes at their antics, unable to even remotely focus on his work with their yammering.

"Fine, follow his orders to the letter, if you want," Ed responded with desperation, "but you might as well go and take a coffee break. I work better alone."

"Tch, arrogant little twerp."

"Who are you calling so little that you need a microscope to see?"

"Sh-she didn't say that!"

"I don't care! I need the space to work!"

"All right, already. Ten minutes, then we'll be back. Brosh, let's go!"

"Yes, ma'am…" And with that feeble agreement, the two cops left the scene, finally allowing a chance for Ed to breathe. Chuckling to himself over their exchange, even if he still felt a little miffed, Ed turned to the medium-sized, dry pool of blood that was concealed in the alleyway. His face pulled into another frown as he knelt next to it. His nose recoiled from the smell and it took all his willpower to not turn away and have someone else deal with the whole situation. He was, however, used to the sight of blood and he had a reputation to keep. Steeling himself again, he focused on the substance at hand. The pool of blood had, unfortunately, congealed and the small, dried rivulets of fat were clearly visible to the naked eye. This was no doubt due to the immense heat that Liore suffered daily, causing the blood to bake and eventually form the solidified fat.

To Ed, however, the presence of the fat was as much a sign of his failure as anything. Just to be sure, Ed pulled a small vial from his pants' pocket and used it to scrape off some of the fat. It wasn't the greatest test material, but it would have to do. There was no doubt in his mind that the fat he had collected most certainly came from an animal. There was no possible way that a human as strapping as the victim could have that much fat in his blood. Tucking away from the scene he turned to the exit, only to find a strange woman looking at him; strange in the fact that he hadn't heard her approach.

"Oh, can I help you?" Ed called to her and the woman flinched. "Oh, sorry, this blood is days old…wait, that didn't come out right…"

"Are you…a cop?" the woman asked in a low voice, causing Ed to stop trying to dust off the dried blood on his jeans. It had caught him unawares when she had spoken, a small nudge of discomfort entering his mind.

"Closest thing to it, I guess," he responded.

"So, you're not a cop…that's a shame." A sharp tingle ran down Ed's spine. Yep, there was definitely something that was off-putting about this woman. She practically screamed creepy, but Ed wasn't going to judge without proof.

"Well, I kind of am, otherwise I wouldn't be allowed behind the tape," Ed told her, motioning around the area. In response, she seemed to stroke her chin in thought. "But, hey, you really shouldn't be here. Was there something you needed help with?"

"Oh, my, yes!" she exclaimed and Ed stepped away from the scene. "I had some goods I was carrying to the local grocer, but my vehicle broke down. Do you know anything about automobiles?"

"Not particularly…But if you take me over to your car, I can help out…maybe."

"That's very kind of you."

"No problem, ma'am." The woman flashed a smile at him and Ed reluctantly returned it. As he stepped over the police line, his mind kept arguing with his body. Almost every part of his being kept telling him not to go with this woman. It wasn't too late, he could still run. Unlike Al, he wouldn't feel bad abandoning this woman if it meant following his gut feeling. Maybe that was why Al could never be suited for this kind of work, he thought in an attempt to suppress his fearful musings. "So, which way?"

"Oh, it's not too far," she said with another smile, walking off slowly in the opposite direction of where Ed had come from. Steeling himself with a breath, Ed followed her through the street. "So…what happened in there Mr. Not-A-Police-Officer?"

"You haven't heard?" Ed asked her with a frown and she shook her head. Another tingle ran down as he watched the movement of her hair. "I would've thought everyone knew by now."

"Oh, I don't live here," she said with a small laugh, "I just deliver meat to the grocers in the area for some people in East City."

"Uh-huh," Ed mused. "Well, it's just…um, a man was murdered and his body was dumped there. It was actually the city DA, so the whole city is kind of in an uproar about it…or so I've heard."

"How…horrible," she said, and Ed could see her repress a shudder. "Is that what everyone's presence at City Hall is all about?"

"Yeah, they're all talk…" Ed trailed off as the alarms in his head went on a sudden, full alert.

"Just over here!" came the announcement, but Ed had slowed down. How could this woman know the press conference was at City Hall? She didn't know anything about the crime, and, on top of that, her vehicle had broken down before she could have possibly made it near City Hall. All of a sudden, the pieces started coming together: she was delivering meat, and whether that was a lie or not, meat had plenty of animal fat and blood. Then there was her hair, and the odd way it moved. It couldn't have been natural. Ed watched the woman turn into another alleyway and he knew that this was the chance to prove his theory.

He quickly stopped at the edge of the alleyway to gain his bearings. Not bothering to say anything, Ed whipped around to look at the alleyway. A thick white gas assailed him and coughs racked his body. He tried to fight it, unsure of just what kind of gas it was, but his vision started to blur. His knees hit the ground first as he collapsed on the hard concrete. Bit by bit, his vision faded, though he could have sworn he saw a large truck sitting with its doors open in the middle of the alleyway. Consciousness started slipping away from him as he felt a strong pair of hands pick him up. And as Ed fainted, he could have sworn he heard voices in the distance.

Clang! Whiiiiir!

Ed's body jerked suddenly, awakened by the sudden noises. His eyes popped open and immediately watered from the sting of air upon them. Ed tried to move his hand to wipe the fluid away, but found that he couldn't. Attempting to open them once again, Ed fought the impending tears and tried to get a view of his surroundings. It did him no good, as he eyes were still entirely too blurry to be of any use in getting a big picture. He attempted to bend his vision to where his hands were and he managed to clear up enough to see that they were bound to a wooden chair. However, he did note that his leg seemed to be free. Ed blindly attempted to stand up, chair and all, before tumbling back down to the floor with a clatter. He swore.

The blood rushed back to Ed's head and his vision seemed to clear, though the air still stung at it. His left leg was missing, and with it, his ability to escape. Ed panned the area with his sight, taking everything in. With another jolt, he realized exactly where he was. A cold shiver ran along his body as he felt blood seeping into his clothes as he lay on the floor. Above him were racks upon racks of dead animals: cows, pigs, and the like. Ed didn't need to look to know that at the end of those racks were machines just waiting to carve the poor beasts up. There was very little noise throughout the meat-packing facility, making him assume that most of the workers had gone home for the day. A small look upwards confirmed it, with the already darkening skyline.

"Now, now, don't you go making trouble for me," mumbled a soft voice, with just a tinge of crazy behind it. Ed felt his chair being lifted upright and his body jostled around. Now in a natural sitting position, Ed noticed the table in front of him, a whole array of knives resting on them, his automail leg among the other assorted metal objects on the table.

"What…am I doing here?" Ed asked, a distinct dryness in his throat. "And where exactly is 'here'?" The figure who had picked him up said nothing for a moment, only walking over to the table and picking up a knife that glinted malevolently in the dying embers of the day's glow. Staring at the man, who was clearly a man, he recognized the figure as that of the "woman" he had met earlier.

"You're at the slaughterhouse in the factory district of East City," he said with no small amount of glee and Ed scowled.

"You didn't answer my first question."

"I thought you'd figure it out on your own."

"Yeah well the chloroform you sprayed me with seems to be blocking my brain."

"Hey, you weren't supposed to know that!" the man scolded him, whipping around to look at his captive. Ed recoiled at the sight of the man. He was fairly decent looking, save for the blood spatters on his face and clothes, which, the young man noted, seemed to contain a burlap cape draped over his shoulders. Ed would've laughed were it not for his perilous situation. Instead, what really threw him off was the crazed gleam in his eye; a gleam that told Ed this man would kill him and enjoy every second of it. Despite his repulsion, he did note the name tag on the man's clothes: "Barry". "How'd ya do that, bub? I thought you said you were a cop."

"I said no such thing. I said I was close," he protested and "Barry" held his knife dangerously close to Ed's throat.

"Don't yell at me kid. I ain't your friend."

"No, you're a psychotic whackjob who kills people for fun, right Barry the Chopper?" Barry glared at him for a moment before his lips stretched themselves into a wide smile.

"For fun? I've never been so insulted in my life!" Barry yelled. "I don't kill people for fun. The way I chop up those annoying little pricks is like how an artist paints his masterpiece, only I do it with blood!"

"Somehow, I don't think most people would agree-" A loud thunk interrupted Ed's statement and he saw the knife that Barry had been holding dug so deep into the table that the wood had splintered.

"Do I look like the kind of guy who cares what others think?"

"No…you don't."

"Exactly! I don't care." Suddenly, Barry was in Ed's face and he could smell the blood and animal fat that was dripping off him. "I love to chop up the flesh of living people. I don't do it for fun! I do it because it's a way of life. Just 'cause society doesn't agree…does that mean I shouldn't live?"

"And what about the people you chopped up? They deserved to live."

"Don't give me that philosophical bullcrap! Look, I may not be paid a salary like you guys on the other side of the law do, but I get a payoff for my profession all the same. It's hard work, and chums like you don't make it any easier."

"You're certifiably insane."

"We're all a little insane."

"Geez, this conversation is going nowhere. I wish I had caught you back in Central," Ed murmured.

"Central? Now there were some jobs I'd love to do all over again; great working conditions."

"Freak."

"Hey, now that you mention it, you do look kind of familiar…" Barry mused, pulling back from Ed with a pensive expression on his face.

"You just noticed that? I was one of the guys chasing you."

"Hmmm…nope, don't remember. Now where was I? Fun, life, chop…oh yeah!"

"Gah! You're impossible!" Ed screamed as Barry turned towards his table again.

"You know, I was only able to kill that other guy before I stumbled upon you," Barry said as he grabbed a knife and turned towards Ed. "I had plenty of victims in Central, but here, just the one. My only mistake was that I should've dumped his body in the river…though my boss woulda been suspicious, then. Ah well, guess I can make up for it right now. Time to chop you up!"

"Like hell you will!" The knife came at Ed and he tipped backwards, his right foot soaring outward. The sole of his shoe hit Barry's knife hand and Barry stumbled, his knife sailing back. Without his second leg, his chair fell backward and slammed on the floor. Pain arced through Ed's back as he hit the floor and the chair splintered. "Cheap chair…" With a tug, Ed managed to free his arms just in time to see Barry running at him with the knife back in his possession. He quickly rolled his body away from the plunging blade and slammed into one of the hanging carcasses. Barry charged after him and Ed brought his foot up again, this time nailing him in the crotch. Barry howled in pain, dropping his knife, while Ed grabbed onto the dead cow and pulled himself up. Before the deranged killer recovered, Ed hopped over to the table. Another yell and Ed turned to see Barry up and about again. As the knife came swinging back down, Ed seized his leg and wrenched it away as the knife hurtled with such force that it got stuck into the table.

Not wanting to waste any time, Ed hobbled off as Barry regained himself, pushing through the thicket of dead pigs until he reached a good distance. He strained his ears for any noise, but only heard muttered curses. Breathing heavily, Ed tried to calm his thoughts. He was better off than he had been a minute ago, and that was a start. He quickly looked at his leg and saw that it looked no worse for the wear, other than the gears having some blood on them. Oh man, Winry's gonna kill me if this guy doesn't.

"Where are ya, you little rat?" came Barry's unhinged voice. "If you don't come out, I'll take my cleaver and CHOP you!" As Barry said the word "chop", he sliced down one of the nearby pigs, causing Ed to jump.

Focus, this is no time to be thinking about the ramifications of this on your marriage, Ed. With a quick movement, Ed jammed his leg back into its port. Another loud noise nearby indicated Barry's second "chop". Ed breathed deep, trying to remember what Winry had said about connecting the nerves in all her automail-induced babble. His hand flitted around like crazy before finding the switch and pulling it with all his might. Ed's mouth let out an unwanted scream as pain filled his left side and his body crumpled over. He was lucky it did as Barry's cleaver came sailing through the pig right next to him.

"Found you!" Ed closed his eyes. He couldn't move yet; the pain from his nerves connecting was still too much. This was it. He was going to die. He could almost sense the cleaver falling towards him.

BOOM! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Ah, you shot me!" Ed opened his eyes with a snap and saw Barry in front of him. His cleaver was abandoned on the floor, and beyond the row of pigs stood Detective Riza Hawkeye, her gun still smoking.

"Test me again and I'll shoot you somewhere else," she told him coolly and Barry looked at his hand, which was bleeding profusely.

"Holy crap! That was some sharp shooting!" he exclaimed. "I think I'm in love!"

"Well, if you love her, then you'll really love me," said a third voice and Ed turned his head to see Mustang, his gun leveled at Barry. "Put your hands behind your head, now!" Ed could only watch as Barry had no choice but to comply. "Barry 'The Chopper' Barkowski, you are under arrest for the murder of Cain Leto and several others. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you by the State of Amestris. Do you understand these rights as I have read them?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm under arrest…" Barry snapped at him in defeat.

"Good. Havoc, Breda, get him out of here," Mustang commanded and the two men that had suddenly appeared grabbed Barry and began dragging him away. "You okay, Fullmetal?"

"Tch…just fine. How did you find me?" Ed asked heatedly as Mustang holstered his gun.

"We followed our leads and they all led back to Barry Barkowski. He wasn't at home, and when Officers Ross and Brosh came forward saying they saw you abducted in a refrigeration truck, we called his boss and knew the man had stayed at work. So, we knew where to go. I'm just glad we got here in time."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you help me up?" Ed outstretched his hand and was pulled up by Mustang, who wiped his hand off from the blood. "Well…"

"I don't need any thanks for being a hero."

"I wasn't going to give you any, you jerk!"

"Why, you arrogant, little-"

"Sir, don't you have work to do?" Mustang looked to Hawkeye and nodded curtly. He gave another quick glare to Ed before walking away. Hawkeye gave a bemused smile before turning to Ed. "Thanks, Edward. We wouldn't have caught him without you."

"Sure…" Neither said anything for a moment until a thought hit Ed. "Mind if I sit in on the interrogation? I mean, he did try to kill me and all."

"No problem, though you might want to change first." Ed looked down at his clothes, dirt- and blood-ridden, and he scowled. "Don't worry about it; it'll take us time to process him for booking before Detective Mustang can even start the interrogation."

"Uh, there's only one problem with that," Ed said, causing Hawkeye to quirk an eyebrow, "My car's still at Liore."

"Of course," Hawkeye understood with a light smile. "That's no problem. I'll have Alex take you home and if you give me your key I'll send one of our uniformed officers to pick up your car and drive it back to the station. Alex!" Ed garbled out some words of thanks as the big, beefy man known as Alex strode over to them. Hawkeye seemed to give the man some instructions and moments later, Ed found himself in the front seat of the car, giving directions. His mind started diverting elsewhere in its still adrenaline fueled state. He had almost died because he had been so careless back in Liore. What would Winry and Al say to him?

"…okay?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were okay, Edward Elric," Alex responded and Ed nodded, himself not entirely sure if that was the correct answer. "Hmph…you know, I've heard so much about you."

"Y-you have?" That had certainly gotten his attention.

"Of course I have! How could I not hear about the young man making a name for himself at such a small age." Ed twitched at the use of the word "small" but said nothing. "What a shame it would be to the Armstrong family were we not to know."

"Armstrong?" Ed looked at the man's physique and started noticing similarities. "Wait, so Chief Armstrong at North is-"

"My big sis," Alex said with pride. "We Armstrongs have a gift and talent for leadership that has been passed down our line for generations!"

"I'm sure you do. Oh, just up here." Ed pointed to the small house in the countryside with all its lights on, and Armstrong pulled into the driveway. With haste, Ed stepped out. A few months working under Olivier Armstrong was enough…he didn't need any more time with her brother.

"I'll wait here for you, so please be quick," Armstrong told him and Ed waved a hand in understanding. He looked in his jacket pocket as was grateful to find that all his belongings were still there. He guessed that Barry felt there was no point in removing them if he was originally supposed to be dead. His key slid into the lock and he swept himself inside.

"Ed, is that you?" called Winry as she dashed into the hallway. "What the-"

"Brother!"

"Hey, it's not as bad as it-"

"You got blood on my automail! Do you know how long I worked on that?"

"Give it a rest, Winry," Ed snapped at her, causing his wife to glare at him. "Look, I'm exhausted, soaked in pig's blood and I've still got work to do. So, if you'll excuse me." He quickly pushed through his wife and brother who were crowding the hallway and worked his way up the stairs, his leg still sore from the impromptu automail installment he had performed. Once he was upstairs he quickly washed himself off and moved to the closet to change, disposing of his blood-soaked clothes in the trash, only to find Winry sitting on their bed. "Please, don't lecture me right now."

"Can't you tell me what happened?" Winry pleaded with him and Ed's hand froze in grabbing a shirt. "I knew you might be late, but covered in blood…"

"Sorry I worried you," Ed told her quietly, "but it's nothing. I just got into a little trouble."

"You big dummy!" Winry said with a frown as Ed finished changing. "I always worry about you. Ever since you were a little kid you've been getting into trouble. Sometimes I wish you'd stay out of it." Ed only laughed and kissed her on the forehead.

"Well, at least it gives you an excuse to do that automail checkup you've been hounding me about." Winry only looked at him, flabbergasted.

"I have not been hounding you!"

"Just keep telling yourself that," Ed chortled as he left the room. "Hey, save some dinner for me. I have to run down to the station." A thrown wrench was the only response he got. "Love you too, Winry." With that, he left home and got back into the car with Armstrong. Half an hour later, they trudged into the station, Armstrong pointing him towards the interrogation room.

"Oh, Edward, you're just in time."

"Man, are you in for a treat," Havoc said with a smirk. Ed looked through the two-way mirror to see Barry sitting at the table, whistling a tune nonchalantly. "The boss is a beast in the interrogation room. I can't wait to see this."

"Uh, Detective Havoc, didn't you and Detective Breda say you'd help with logging the evidence?" the youngest detective of the team said and the older males cursed, leading the bespectacled man out of the room as Mustang entered into the interrogation room.

"Barry Barkowski…otherwise known as 'The Chopper'," he began, looking at a report in his hand.

"Hey, you guys gave me that name, not that I'm complaining."

"I'm sure. You do realize we have a lot of evidence against you."

"Do you?"

"Of course; synthetic hair, a recently repaired transmission, burlap sack, and let's not forget you attempted murder in front of five or six law enforcement eyewitnesses."

"Cause that stuff means everything in a courtroom."

"I'll make sure it sticks," Mustang told him with a smirk, and for a moment, Barry looked unsettled. "You're going down for this. I mean, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"What do you want me to say? 'I'm sorry, officer, I won't do it again!' Bullshit. Yeah, I killed those people. So, what of it? Killing is how I know I exist." Barry said with vehemence and Mustang looked partially intrigued through the glass.

"That's an…interesting philosophy, but I'm not here to discuss that. I just want to know, why? Why kill Cain Leto?" Barry stared at him, drumming his fingers on the table as he contemplated his next move.

"Ah, what the hell. I'm going down for this anyway. Why did I kill him? Why did I kill any of them? Kid was a pansy and his daddy was an arrogant dickhole. I would've done 'em both if I could. Is that a good enough confession for you?"

"It'll satisfy the jury at any rate…who knows, we may even be able to take you off death row."

"Golly gee, thanks," Barry simpered sarcastically. "All right, Cop-man, I answered your questions, so now you answer one of mine. How'd you find me?"

"You left a trail; a cohesive trail. The same card you used to fix the refrigerator truck transmission was also used to purchase materials for your little costume. Once we had a name, the rest was easy work. Your address was on file, but you weren't home. Since we knew from your data, and the truck, that you worked at the meat packing facility, we called your boss and learned that you were putting in hours on 'clean-up' duty. Finding you in the action was just the cherry on top. Then there's the cleaver. You know, even if you clean it, the DNA will never come off." Barry frowned before bursting out in laughter.

"Damn, you guys are good. Guess I should have been more careful in the East Area, huh?" Mustang didn't respond.

"One more question," Mustang said and Ed felt a chill as the Head Detective's hand moved for his gun. "Did you kill Maes Hughes?" Hawkeye stiffened next to a confused Ed, whose look Barry seemed to be emulating.

"Was he cut up?"

"No. He was shot near a telephone booth."

"Then it wasn't me. I only chop people." Mustang nodded and his hand moved into a more relaxed state. The entire room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I see. Well, thank you for your confession, Barry. I'll see you at your trial."

"No prob," Barry answered with a manic smile. "Hey, do you think you can get Lady-cop to come by too?" Mustang paused at the door to the interrogation room.

"If you behave well, I'll see what I can do." And Mustang whipped out the door, prompting Hawkeye to try and follow him.

"Who's Maes Hughes?" Ed blurted out and Hawkeye halted, her back turned to him.

"He was a detective," she answered him. "He died…two years ago in the line of duty." With that, she left the room, and Ed to his thoughts.

Author's Note: I love writing Barry. He was perhaps one of my favorite side characters in all of the manga. Now, I realize that this is Amestris and they likely don't have Miranda rights like we do in the US but I added them in there to give it slightly more believability. The plot is officially kicking off now (that's not to say this line was unimportant) and we now enter Hughes into the story. It's a real shame that I couldn't put him in, but this was always the idea for the story. Now, below I have a review reply to an anonymous reviewer. Just a quick note, I don't mind but I try to respond to all reviews with great content and that's easier through an account. Anyway, thank you for all the wonderful reviews last chapter and let's keep it going! Dare to Be Silly.

Jay: There was only a day gap between the first and second chapter. The difference in attitude may perhaps come from the fact that the story starts on the anniversary of Hughes' death and so Mustang feels despondent. Thank you for your kind comments. I'm no big fan of AUs but I felt that this one was a fit, and it allowed me to keep the world and characters intact instead of breaking them down for the purposes of my own story. I'll continue to do my best and I hope I hear from you on this chapter.