Sooo…..tired!

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The investigation of the military compound was, in a word, unfruitful. The soldiers on duty were kind and eager to offer any assistance necessary. Apparently Mr. Henry "Dewey" Dawson had been a very popular fellow. However, nobody was any kind of real help to them. The accounts of Dewey's last day were often blurred and exaggerated by rumors and egos. Each one wanted a little more attention. Each wanted to seem a little more important. And thus disgruntled from a wasted day, Ed and AL began the walk back to their small hotel room.

"Do you think we're ever going to figure this one out?" Al asked, stretching his hands behind his head.

"Aw come on! We've only been into this investigation for two days! How can you be giving up already?" Ed said, glancing up an alley as they passed. Al bit his lips and glanced at his brother out the corner of his eye.

"Do you ever think it is time to give up?" Al asked cautiously. Ed stopped abruptly.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Al stopped as well and kept his gaze fixed steadily on his brown leather shoes.

"I mean...what if we stopped searching?" Al asked, trying to keep his voice light. Ed glared at his back, saying nothing. Al hesitated and turned to face him.

"I don't like living like this." Al said simply. "It was my dream for two years to find you and start a life fresh from where my memories collide. But now! I'm an adult, Ed! I want to settle down sometime. Find a woman to love and maybe have a few kids to pass the Elric name on to. Don't you ever get tired of doing nothing but search for something that's never within reach?" Ed stared coldly at the ground allowing the words to sink in. He grunted and glanced up.

"How long have you felt this way?" Ed asked.

"I don't know. A while now I guess." Al said shrugging.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because…I didn't want to be separated from you again. I didn't want you running around doing this stuff alone. Things like that." Al said awkwardly.

"And all that stuff you said…that's really what you want?" Ed asked softly.

"Yes." Al said. Ed pursed his lips.

"To tell you the truth…I want all that too." He murmured. He kept Al's eyes in his own for a moment, gazing into the gray-hazel orbs. It struck him how much of a change his little brother had gone through. The eyes used to be filled with innocence and joy for life. But now they were steely and unreadable, much like his own. Ed felt a small twinge of guilt when looking into them. It was his own influence that had caused such eyes. But there was no way to turn back time. They were stuck in the current of their quest. One of them could leave it…but it couldn't be abandoned completely. Ed sighed and began walking again, motioning Al to do the same.

"I'm sorry." Ed said. Al only nodded. "Al, I can't stop doing this." He muttered.

"Why not?" Al demanded.

"Who else will if I don't? Think of what Huskisson can do with his power if we don't stop him. Plus if anybody tries to make more portals to Amestris…" Ed grunted.

"Ed, you can't be the hero all the time! Mustang said he was going to destroy any such portals on his side! Let's just allow him to finish it! And how can we even know that Huskisson made it here" Ed shook his head.

"Oh, he made it here alright. And we can't trust what's happening on that side. Who knows what state the government is in?" Ed attempted to give Al a wry smile, "Besides, did you ever really expect me to be the settling down type?" Al frowned and shook his head in distaste. Ed sighed.

"Al, please. Just help me figure out what's going on here. Then you can have any life you want, but I have to keep looking for that guy."

"Brother, I…" Whatever he was going to say was cut off by an agonized scream from an alley fifty feet in front of them. A man stumbled into the street. Car tires screeched and there was a terrified scream from a pedestrian as the car hit the man. His body was sucked under the tires with a horrible, meaty crunch. Ed and Al ran forward. The man still lay beneath the car, gasping in strangled gurgles. His eyes were wide with fear and pain. The brothers scrambled to dress his wounds and keep him still as others ran for help, but within two minutes the man was gone.

The driver of the car ran a few feet away and vomited loudly. Ed also felt a bit queasy, but it was strange. Despite the gruesomness of the death, he was calloused to such things. This wasn't a nausea brought on by shock. Something was physically affecting him. He looked at the man closely. He was obviously a vagrant. He reeked of sweat and garbage and his clothes were barely held together by dirt. But there was something off-setting about his smell. Some undertone that was both chemical and familiar. Ed touched Al's arm and walked into the alley. The building to their right was an old Butcher's shop, but the one on the left was abandoned and boarded up.

"What's wrong?" Al asked, watching Ed quizzically.

"There was something abnormal about all that." Ed said peering behind a dumpster. What he saw froze his insides for a moment. He waved at Al to come closer. Al looked over Ed's shoulder at the red puddle and frowned.

"Is that blood?" He asked.

"No. It's red water." Ed said, sniffing carefully. There it was. The strange, sweet chemical smell. "Don't get too close! It will make you sick." He warned, grabbing Al's jacket as he bent to take a closer look. Al straightened and looked around.

"Where did it come from?" He asked. Ed walked over to the side door of the dilapidated building. He tested it with his right hand and the door groaned meekly under the pressure. With a good shove the rusty metal lock on the other side snapped and the door swung open. Ed quirked an eyebrow at Al and stepped inside. There was no light except the faint beams that peeked through the seams in the boards. There was a flurry above head and the disturbed cooing of pigeons. There was a reek around them of dust, mold and birds. Al wrinkled his nose and followed Ed into the building.

"Do you think the red water came from in here?" Al whispered.

"There's only one way to find out. Let's run back to the hotel for our bags and-" There was a strained groan from the floorboards followed quickly by a loud crack as the rotted beams snapped. Both men tried to jump back through the door but the floor fell away beneath their feet sending them hurtling into the dark.

Ed sat up with a groan and rubbed tenderly at the back of his neck. Dust was filtering into his lungs and the sharp edge of a board dug fiercely into his arm. He felt something warm and wet trickle down his wrist. Ed grabbed he board with a groan and threw it away distastefully.

"Al…(cough)…are you alright?" Ed asked, rolling onto his knees and feeling around blindly.

"Yeah." Al grunted a few feet away. "Wow. Should have expected that to happen!"

"No shit." Ed growled, hoisting himself to his feet. Something in his left ankle whirred oddly and Ed muttered out a few expletives, most of them made up and several in different languages.

"You okay?" Al asked, feeling his way in the pitch black.

"Yes, I'm fine! Would you mind letting go of my ankle?" Ed grumbled, tapping his left toe cautiously against the ground a few times.

"…Ed. I'm not touching you." Al said. Ed froze for a second, listening hard into the dark. There were no sounds other than his and Al's breathing, but whatever was wrapped around his ankle moved. Ed jumped back with a startled cry. He reached hastily into his pocket and yanked out a small box of matches.

"Ed! What is it?" Al cried.

"I don't know! I don't know!" Ed said shrilly, fumbling with the box. He managed to pull one out but the match snapped between the fingers of his right hand. He cried in frustration and scrabbled for another. Something grabbed his arm. Ed jumped and swung his other arm around in defense. Whatever it was caught his fist with a faint grunt.

"It's me! Hurry! Give me the matches!" Al said, feeling around in the dark. After what seemed an eternity they managed to get a match lit. The light it gave off was piddle to none but it was a small comfort. The men glanced quickly around but could barely see anything.

"It might have just been-GAH! WHAT WAS THAT?" Ed cried, grabbing Al's shirt.

"WHAT? WHAT?" Al squeaked, whirling around frantically. The match burnt down to his fingers and went out with his startled cry.

"Here!" Ed fumbled with the pocket of his coat until he found a small bottle. He squirted the priming oil for his automail around on the ground. It fell on the still hot match causing a sudden flare of yellow flames. Ed and Al blinked in the dazzling light, but they were very much alone in the small basement room. Ed looked down at the ground and chuckled. An old sleeve of a sweater protruded from the mass of wood and dust. Ed yanked it out and waved it at Al.

"I caught my foot in this." He said sheepishly, holding it up and inspecting it. "Well, let's see if it can redeem itself for being such a nuisance." Ed muttered, ripping the sweater in half. He wrapped it around a chunk of wood and squirted the remainder of his oil on it. After lighting it and stamping out the small fire on the floor they wandered around the small room. It was filled with forgotten junk; old iron bed frames and broken desks. Ed imagined that the building had once been an old hospital or school of some sort.

"I found a way out!" Al said from the opposite side of the room. He grunted and shoved an old tin custodial cabinet. It grated on the dusty floor and behind it was a warped white door. Al twisted the knob and shoved against it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Here, let me try." Ed said, stepping forward and handing the makeshift torch to Al. Al took a step back and held the light high. Ed tested the door with his right hand but it was stuck tight. He lifted up his leg and kicked it. The door splintered and groaned. Ed put his shoulder to it and pushed, moaning softly from the strain. The door slid slightly. Ed took a step back and ran at the door, throwing his weight against it. The door gave way and collapsed. Ed, unable to keep his balance, collapsed with it. A cloud of dust puffed up on either side of him invading his eyes. He sat up and coughed, rubbing at his face with his sleeve.

"Ed!" Al said softly. Ed opened his eyes and glanced around. They were in a large room and in its center was a circle of candlesticks. All of them lit. The brothers glanced at each other. Ed climbed to his feet and they both walked forward. There was an array drawn on the ground. It was a perfect matrix. It was one that Ed had seen before. It was one to create the Sorcerer's stone.

"We found it!" Al said softly, taking a few steps closer to it. Ed sighed and shook his head.

"No. We didn't." He said. Al frowned at him

"What do you mean?"

"It's a decoy." Ed said, bending down and wiping a finger across the somewhat fresh chalk line. "There aren't any odd electromagnetic forces here. At least not anything strong enough make this active. If it were you'd be able to feel it in the air."

"Maybe they didn't know that when they drew it." Al said, shrugging.

"No. Whoever drew this knew exactly what they were doing." Ed said holding up a finger and tracing the outline of the seven pointed array in the air. "I should have seen it when we found the red water in the alley. It couldn't have been spilt from a month ago. It would have been washed away by the rain or evaporated in the sun by now. It was placed there to lure us in. Whoever is behind this knows we're here." Ed dropped his hand with a sigh and looked around the room.

"There's some stairs over there. Let's call it a day." He said jabbing a thumb to his right. Al nodded and followed him out of the building.

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They had barely walked through the door of the hotel when a young woman they knew as a maid rushed towards them waving a towel frantically in case her nasally voice didn't catch their attention.

"Sirs! There's an urgent message for you from a doctor! He said you must get to Winslow Mental Institution as soon as possible!" She said. Ed and Al glanced at each other and ran from the building. The mental institution was twelve blocks away and they managed to reach it within ten minutes. They burst through the doors, gasping and sweating and found themselves face to face with a surprised nurse who glanced at their dust (and in Ed's case, blood) smeared bodies distastefully.

"If you don't have an appointment I'm going to ask you to leave!" She said loudly. Ed fumbled in his pocket between gasps and pulled out his badge.

"I'm…detective…Elric…to see…Doctor Pet…Peterson." Ed gasped. The nurse's eyes widened slightly and her nostrils pinched in disgust.

"Oh yes. Follow me." She said whirling huffily on her white pumps and walking stiffly down the hall. Ed and Al followed her broad, uniformed back up a flight of stairs, through several dramatically long hallways and then down two flights of stairs. The nurse unlocked a rather thick double door and held it open for them. The brother's nodded their thanks to her and stepped inside. Dewey was laid out on a cold table covered from the ribs down with a white sheet. His glazed eyes were fixed upward, peaceful and distant. His face was relaxed making him look like the man he once was. Ed sighed and shook his head. He had rather hoped Dewey wouldn't end up like this; being prodded by several doctors in the basement morgue. Doctor Peterson glanced up and started slightly at the sight of Ed and Al.

"Oh! Detective Elric! I was hoping I would have a chance to speak with you before you saw." He said apologetically, scurrying around the table. Ed rubbed his neck and nodded towards Al.

"This is my brother, Al." He said in introduction, eyes still fixed on Dewey's body.

"I would like to say it's nice to meet you Mr. Elric, but under the circumstances…" The doctor said bowing his head slightly. Al nodded.

"How did it happen?" Ed asked.

"It was a stroke." The doctor said, shaking his head mournfully. "And such a shame. He was making wonderful progress. I was really hoping he would pull out of it. It's going to rip me apart to tell Miss Mayer about it…" As though on cue the doors burst open and Gwen stormed in, her eyes positively blazing with emotion. She froze and stared at the cold body, her mouth opened slightly. For a moment she did nothing but stare. Then she let out a small, choked cry and stumbled towards the table. The other two doctors stepped away and began putting away their instruments. Doctor Peterson pursed his lips awkwardly and moved to take a step towards Gwen. Ed stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe it would be better if you let us handle this." Al whispered. The doctor looked relieved and left the room with a slight nod of thanks. The other two doctors remained in the room, but seemed engrossed with their notes on a clipboard. Al walked over to Gwen who was leaning over Dewey, gently stroking his clammy cheek. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she wasn't crying. She just looked pitifully lost. Al placed a hand on her shoulder. She sniffled and grasped his fingers gratefully with one hand.

"I guess I…I guess I knew this was going to happen." She said hoarsely, her hand trailing down and resting on Dewey's chest. Her bottom lip quivered and she bit it hard to keep it in line. Al rubbed her shoulder gently. Gwen turned to him and buried her face into his shoulder. He seemed slightly surprised by this, but wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair as her body quivered trying to keep her emotions repressed. Ed sighed and stepped forward. He took the loose end of the white sheet and began unfolding it to pull over Dewey's face.

"Wait!" Gwen said suddenly, lifting her head from Al's shoulder. She pulled from his arms and leaned over Dewey's midsection which was still mostly covered with the sheet. However, when Ed was handling it it had slipped away a little. Peeking beneath the white linen was a small red mark just beneath his ribcage. Gwen frowned and touched this, then slowly pulled the sheet back. Staring back at them was the scarred tissue of an array burned into his flesh. And in it's center was a slitted eye.

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