Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me, nor am I earning a cent from writing this.

Summary: As a murder case unfolds, Ed is forced to confront the grief, unanswered questions of the victim's death, and ultimately, his relationship with Roy. RoyEd, Mature themes

A/N: Okay, it's been months since I've written anything, and it's been it's been years since I've written a multi-chapter.

As a warning, if you're going to be scared of a graphic murder scene, please skip down the page to where I've labeled -End of Graphic Scene-. Don't worry, you'll still be able to understand the story.

ONE: The Murder Case

The footsteps were closing in on her she could hear the boots grind against the gravel, even as the sound of her own thundering heartbeat filled her ears. She pushed herself forwards despite the exhaustion that was threatening to on the corners of her mind. She was at her limit- no, past her limit- and she knew it. The water on her body had long dried from the night wind, and the towel she had hastily wrapped around herself when she stepped out of the shower was also long gone. In the chill she ran barefooted, her breath coming in ragged gasps that left a trail of mist behind her to accompany the trail of blood her now skin-less feet were leaving. Her skin was often praised, and envied by her friends for being smooth, fair, and soft, but no longer, no longer. Scratches marked every inch of her where the merciless branches and thorns had grabbed her. Gravel tore into the soles of her delicate feet, and a layer of hot sweat covered her body in contrast to the frost that covered most other surfaces.

The box of white and red chalk was on her office desk somewhere, next to her reference books, and alchemy notes. She had always laughed at those alchemists who go as far as to tattoo arrays on their skin for efficiency's sake, and never saw the need to go to such extremes herself. Glancing back, she couldn't see her pursuer, and for a moment she contemplated the possibility of drawing a rough three-point array with her blood to create some sort of weapon but pushed the idea from her mind. In her weakened state she wouldn't be able to perform the alchemy quickly enough, especially since it wasn't her area of expertise. She couldn't see him knew but he was close, and was simply taking advantage of the darkness. From the rustle of leaves, and the snapping of dead branches, he was probably chasing her while hiding in the bushes off the road.

Her only hope now was to just hang on, and reach the nearest house. All she needed to do was keep that bit of distance between them for a little longer. Surely her hunter must be tiring by now, she told herself, but the scientist in her forced her to face the truth of the situation. She was bleeding, and was losing her strength quickly, whereas, her blood was probably giving her hunter an extra adrenaline rush. The lights before her were growing brighter, and she could clearly see the outlines of a homely cottage. Hope welled up in her chest, and flooded her with renewed strength as tears finally fell from her eyes. She couldn't die here; she had a daughter who was waiting for her return, and a sister she had promised to call earlier today.

She felt the blade and the heat of her blood before she felt the sudden pain. The hunter had her by her right wrist, and a blade wedged under her collarbone. Kicking him in the groin, she lashed out at his face with her French-tipped nails, and bit his fingers that were holding her wrist. Wrenching herself free, she continued to run. The hope she felt in her heart just a few seconds ago was gone, leaving her with only bare fear, and bubbling blood in her chest with every breath she took. That last stab had punctured her lung, and as the metallic tang of her own blood rose from her throat, and reached her mouth she realised that her tears had turned into tears of shame, and of regret.

She thought of all those times she had passed up training with the excuse that her work was in the laboratory not the field; thus, she didn't need to learn unarmed combat- that was a man's job. She may be in the military, but she still considered herself to be a lady. Now as darkness crept into her vision from her long overdue blood-loss, she wondered what her conservative parents in heaven would think of her if they saw her now- bloody, dirty, naked, hunted like wild game, and without a scrape of dignity left in her soul. She slipped on her own blood, and felt the sharp pain in her chest when one of her broken ribs tore her other good lung as she fell down hard. It was over. There was no hope now. She turned to look at her hunter's face properly for the first time, and even as he stabbed the knife into her left eye and tore it from its socket, a strange calm was settling in her heart where the only pain she now felt came from a quickly dimming memory of her daughter.

-End of Graphic Scene-

The yellow manila folder was slid across the table towards him, and Ed looked up at the colonel suspiciously before taking it. The usual smirk wasn't present on the bastard's face today along with the absence of the mocking tenor in his voice. No short jokes, no teasing, no baiting. Ed couldn't help but raise a questioning brow at his commanding officer to which Roy only answered with, 'Just read the assignment, Fullmetal.'

With a final frown at the colonel, Ed opened the folder to find a picture of a pretty brunette attached to a military standard officer profile record. She was in her mid to late thirties, and was giving the camera a dazzling pearl white smile. Her glossy lipstick and thick mascara-ed lashes seemed so out of place on a military folder. Her picture would probably belong more on some woman's magazine. The name on the profile read: Belle Aldridge (The Element Alchemist), aged thirty eight, widowed with a twelve year old daughter. She was a lab-based state alchemist working on behalf of the military on extracting purified elements from materials for medical, and weapon use. She was also working on a private project that she declared was not ready for public announcement yet. The detectives who searched her house; however, could not find any signs of her research notes except for a partially smudged array drawn with red and white chalk.

'The coroner is already done with her, and has her in the local morgue. You'll find photos of how they found her included in that folder though, should be somewhere near the back,' Roy told him.

Turning over to the back, Ed almost couldn't hold the bile down as he stared into the pasty face of the once beautiful woman. One of her eyes was gorged out, and among all the other injuries on her, the deep slash across her abdomen stood out in sheer size. The blood pooled from the injury like in thick crimson ribbons, and as hard as Ed tried deny it, he was quite sure the pale bits he saw there were her intestines. 'This is sick,' was all he could manage to say.

'Your job, Fullmetal, is to go to her house where we believe she first encountered the murderer, and to process the scene.'

'I thought the detectives already did that,' he said, and for once he wasn't trying to get out of the job because he thought it was a meaningless goose chase. He was saying it because he really didn't want the job.

'The detectives could find no sign of her research. I need you to go and make sure that they didn't just pass over her notes because it was written in code.'

'Then just get them to send the damn stuff to you.'

Roy was quiet for an awkward moment, and then looked up at Ed. 'This is the murder of a state alchemist, Fullmetal. One of our own was brutally killed yesterday night, and while I know that state alchemists aren't all exactly a friendly lot, we still need to capture whoever is responsible for this in order to send out the message that we are not to be messed around with.' He paused to look at Ed, and confirm that the teenager was finally seeing the magnitude of the situation. Pointing at the photos Ed held in his hands, Roy continued, 'That is not how anyone should die. No one deserves to be chased while naked and bleeding out on a winter's night, only to be killed like an animal.'

So for the first time, beyond the recollection of the staff at Central, the Fullmetal Alchemist left for an assignment without screaming bloody curses at the colonel, and nearly slamming the door off its hinges behind him.

As the engine of the car hummed to life, Ed leaned into the leather backseat, and took a deep breath only to wrinkle his nose at the smell of fresh wax. It was an odd feeling, to be on a serious case for a change, and the bastard colonel's unusual attitude didn't help any. He wasn't certain, but for a moment he thought he saw the bastard's mask slip and a shadow of grief haunt his eyes. Just who is this Ms. Aldridge to him? Ed thought to himself. So this was what being a field officer should feel like? This was what that bastard had been protecting me from these past years? Ignoring the little voice in his head that told him to be grateful, he reached to pull up his travel case, and started to reread the assignment details because he had been too distracted by the serious, and un-annoying colonel to read it (not that he'd ever admit to it).

Only living relative is a younger sister… the husband had passed away eleven years ago, Ed read and did the math, so that means their kid was just a year old when she became a widow… unemployed prior becoming a state alchemist… daughter attends St. Mary's Girls' High… is boarding there… unlike the mother, shows no talent with alchemy…

The similarities didn't go very far, but where they did, they touched home. Painfully. He wasn't looking forwards to meeting the daughter. He remembered all too well what losing his mother at ten was like. He wasn't willing to speak to anybody, and unlike Al who at least thanked those who offered a helping hand, he had lashed out in anger at the display of pity. The daughter may be two years older than he was, but it had taken him a good deal more than two years, and a rude awakening from the Gate before the memory even started to heal… and scar. Not to mention, he had Al to help him through it all. Ms. Aldridge's only daughter, Elizabeth, was all alone. Well, Ed thought, at least I don't have to worry that she'll try human transmutation.

The house looked normal. Sure, a few books were knocked down on to the floor, and dinner was left on the kitchen table (where Ed was betting cockroaches had already discovered), but that was the constant condition of the Elric residence. Ed had a feeling though, that the immaculately dressed Ms. Aldridge wasn't like that. He checked in the obvious places first; the study, and the bookshelves, but found that the detectives had really been quite thorough in their search. There were alchemy books but no notes other than a mostly scrubbed-out array drawn with chalk on a miniature blackboard Ms. Aldridge kept on her table. Deciding that he could probably decipher the incomplete array more easily if he had her notes, Ed continued his search.

Alchemy was born in the kitchen- or so they say, and Ed had nearly laughed when he pulled out handwritten and bound "recipe books" from her kitchen drawers. That didn't last long though, as the first elegantly written recipe had Ed snorting in a manner very inappropriate for a dead woman's kitchen. 'Marinated Lettuce?' He read aloud in disbelief, 'Stir-fried Cucumber? Banana, Egg, Leek, and Onion Salad?' How on earth did a woman this stupid manage to pass the state alchemist exam, he wondered if a code could be more obvious, it'll have to dance naked while singing opera.

The notes were on human body regeneration. After three full days of code breaking, pouring over reference books, and reconstructing the array on the mini blackboard, the results lay before his eyes in notes put together by his own hands. The Element Alchemist had been working on a way to regenerate body cells by paying the price with animal lives or bodies, depending on the degree of alchemy performed. Both would be fatal to the animal but the price would be paid. Flesh for flesh, blood for blood.

He couldn't hold it in anymore. Not after the dead end he, and Al had faced after decoding Dr. Marcoh's notes on the philosopher's stone. Ed flinging everything off the table, and burying his face in his hands. Edward screamed until his throat was hoarse. Screamed at the frustration of his own unsuccessful years of research, for his still unfulfilled promise to Al, for the pain he felt in his left leg on rainy days when the automail hurt like hell because of the weather no matter what Winry did, and screamed in hate at himself for being tempted by the Element Alchemist's research, when he should know better by now. It hurt in every way possible, and when he had finally glared the officers who came in to see what was wrong away, the silent tears finally fell.

tbc

A/N:

This is story will be character focused rather than science focused, and is going to be a messy journey of emotional maturing. If you're looking for light hearted reading, you're at the wrong place. Go check out my crack stories if that's what you're after. This is going to be one of my rare attempts at writing something serious.

Please review. Strange how this is highest ranked "Story Alert" story on my list but the least reviewed... Isn't there supposed to be a positive correlation for this kind of thing? Readers' comments really do inspire and motivate me to write!