Chapter Text
“This is the place.” Ed consulted a worn letter with an intricate drawing of the cabin in front of them. “Looks a bit more run down than the drawing, though.”
“If he is here, please refrain from hitting him, at least until we can figure out how he survived.” Roy said. He was tired and somewhat irritable from the unexpected ten kilometer hike that left both him and Ed sore from taking turns hauling gear in addition to their respective backpacks. Roy gratefully took the opportunity to set down the heaviest, containing Ed’s newest automail; a gift given to him by a mostly silent, tearful Winry at his last tune up before this trip. A parting gift as Ed had cleared the rest of his belongings out of the Rockbell house…
The letters they had received leading them to this cabin had been incredibly vague, an invitation extended to Edward and Alphonse to travel and meet in the remote forests of Creta for an urgent matter. “The discovery of a lifetime,” Hohenheim had written.
Alphonse had been in Xing and was unable to make the jpurney for what was supposed to be nothing but an initial reconnaissance trip; in response, Ed had invited Roy to “take a vacation into the field and get away from your bullshit political games.”
The “we haven’t spent time together in weeks” was unspoken. In the years following the Promised Day things had been both incredibly rocky but also greatly improving within Amestris. Unfortunately that required more time commitments than ever for Roy, who was still gunning for the position of Fuhrer following Grumman’s term when the time came.
There was also the prospect of being alone in the woods with Ed for a week following this business with his father if things went according to plan. Roy was not about to turn down an invitation like that.
Unfortunately things never went according to plan.
“Well, let's get this over with.” Ed murmured. “Let me grab those, give yourself a break.” He bent down and picked up Roy’s bag and his automail suitcase before stepping up on the porch.
“That’s weird,” Ed voiced, a puzzled frown across his features. “The door’s open. Yo, Hohenheim!” Ed knocked on the ajar door then stepped inside.
Roy watched as Ed entered the house, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. Something wasn’t right. “Hey, Ed, wait-”
“ROY!” Ed’s voice carried out of the building, panic flooding Roy as he heard the tell-tale crackle and smell of electricity that indicated a powerful alchemical reaction.
“No, Roy, don't come in!”
It was too late. Roy had burst in, glove on and hand ready, when he saw Ed standing in the middle of an array, a vast purple eye underneath him. Ed, disintegrating before his eyes as he was pulled apart at a molecular level.
Roy felt a tug and looked down, realizing the array had extended to the inside of the door. He watched in horror as his own body began to crumble, white hot heat assaulting his system.
And then there was a bright flash of white light and Roy had the distinct feeling of being grabbed by hundreds of small, childish hands.
“Good luck Alchemists.” An ethereal voice cackled all around him, before saying more words he couldn’t make out, his head dizzy and his body nauseated.
Darkness overcame Roy as he thrust his hand out, trying to grasp the metal hand that reached out before him like the lifeline it was.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was finally Ed’s first case with the BAU.
20 weeks of basic FBI Academy training, more than a few white lies, and a handful of days making nice with his new team. He spent his first several days learning names and going over paperwork as the team worked to wrap up their last case that preceded Ed's arrival.
He entered the conference room, taking a seat at the round table, listening attentively as the analyst- Garcia? Went over the details of their case.
Amputations. How… ironic.
The first victim was dead, dumped over the country's border. Missing his right leg. The second was found in a hotel room missing the same limb. Ed traced the photo of the latest victim’s stump with a gloved finger.
"Tony Anders had IV bruising and surgical sutures on his stump." JJ stated. Garcia looked positively green.
Blake looked up from her file. “So the unsub operated on both victims… We're possibly looking at a doctor.”
“That’s a first. Were the victims patients anywhere?” Rossi asked.
Garcia answered in the negative. “The visions of perfect health.”
"Tony had hypodermic needle marks on his neck." Morgan said, gesturing with a pen. "The unsub could have drugged him and brought him into the hospital for surgery."
“The neck is actually a terrible place to inject drugs unless you hit the jugular directly. Might as well just go for a bicep or thigh for an intramuscular injection." Ed mumbled. “Anyone with medical training should know that.”
Reid shook his head. "Unlikely he could hide in a hospital. In modern hospitals, surgeons can't operate alone and there are way too many checks and balances to be able to sneak someone in without witnesses for something as routine as stitches, much less amputations."
"Wayward med student?" Morgan asked.
"He's not a surgeon." Ed said, suddenly. All eyes turned on him. He supposed if they expected him just to sit and mostly observe during this case as a trainee, they were going to be terribly wrong. Sitting on the sidelines was never Ed’s strong suit.
He continued. "He has just enough medical knowledge to be dangerous but not enough to be effective in what he's doing. The margins aren't clean and the victim's skin flap was stitched so tight he developed gangrene, even though he clearly wanted Anders alive.”
Morgan’s brow furrowed. "What is he then?"
"A butcher." Reid said.
How dramatic, Ed thought to himself, but nodded anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A quick text to Roy letting him know he wouldn't be home that evening and Ed grabbed his go bag and boarded the jet.
A flying machine. The precursor to going to the moon. In another life he may have pursued the rocket science employment offers he had received but the allure of the FBI had been too strong.
He had spent hours reading about the physics and impossibility of it all, finding Google and Wikipedia to easily be his favorite resources ever. He was excited to finally be able to fly and looked out the window as take off began.
That excitement lasted all of three minutes as the jet left the ground. His stomach flipped and the abrupt change in barometric pressure sent a wave of *wrongness* through his automail ports. Not pain, but unexpected nonetheless. He swallowed the bile in his throat and looked away from the window.
"You okay kid?" Morgan asked as he slid into the seat across from Ed.
"I’ve never flown before. Wasn't expecting the nausea." He took a breath. "Think I'm good now." He resisted the urge to stretch his limbs and instead reached down to pull out the case file.
“Let’s get started,” Hotch said from his seat.
“So this unsub has a thing for right legs and he’s moving fast. What’s the compulsion?” Rossi asked.
“You know, the fact that one of the victims was left in a hotel room makes me think black market.” Reid said.
“Hm. What’s the going rate for a leg these days?”
“Pretty good.” JJ said. “In 2002 tendons were shipped from South Africa to the US and sold through private medical and biotech companies.”
Ed felt squeamish, mind drifting to what he knew of medical experimentation and organ trades in Amestris.
“Let’s say its a chop shop-”
If it were black market, why would they leave him alive?” Ed asked. “Surely other body parts are more valuable than just limbs?”
They were silent for a moment, Ed could see his new team ruminating on it.
“And it’s not like you can do much with a single leg,” he continued on. “Full limb transplants are rarely successful.” There was a high risk of rejection and infection. Scar had been the only person he had ever met with a transplanted limb; there was a reason most people chose automail or other prosthetics. They seemed to be just as rare in this world.
“Good observation,” Hotch said. “Blake and I will still investigate the black market angle to rule it out, but I want you, Morgan, and Dave to go talk to Tony Anders. Reid and JJ can go look at the first victim’s body in Juarez.”
Ed’s stomach lurched again as he felt the jet begin to descend. He really hoped he could get used to flying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ed stood off to the side of the hospital room as Morgan and Rossi interviewed Anders. Being his first case, they wanted him to mostly observe and learn the way they wanted interviews done.
A garage. He knew their unsub wasn’t removing legs in a damn hospital.
Morgan and Rossi turned to leave the hospital room. Morgan stopped in the doorway and looked back, tipping his head towards Ed, indicating he should follow them.
“One moment.” Ed said, pulling out his notebook. He scribbled several words on a sheet of paper before he ripped it out, handing it to Anders. He mumbled something Morgan couldn’t quite catch to the bed bound man before walking past Morgan and leaving the room, going to catch up to Rossi.
Morgan’s eyes followed him, and frowned and looked back towards Anders. He needed to know what information the rookie just gave to their victim, and hoped it wasn’t anything that could compromise the case.
“Do you mind?” He gestured towards the folded sheet of paper on the bedside.
“Go ahead.” Anders said, shrugging.
Morgan picked it up.
Juniper berry, grape seed extract, Vitamins A, E, and B12; calcium, potassium, and magnesium.
There were corresponding dosages.
“What’s this?” His brow furrowed and he looked back at Anders questioningly.
“He said they’re supplements that help with phantom pains.” Anders shrugged again and leaned his head back in the pillow, closing his eyes and sighing.
“Huh.” Weird.