Chapter Text
The waiting was by far the worst.
And that was saying something, because the situation was, as intellectuals would say, well and truly fucked up.
Two minutes. Two minutes in which three adults—three of them, for fuck’s sake—had just glanced away, laughed at a joke, and someone had stolen off with Elicia Hughes.
But whatever Roy felt, whatever dull, aching, panicky pain was nestled deep within him, he couldn’t fathom what Maes and Gracia must be feeling.
“We’ll find her,” Roy said quietly. With conviction, because he couldn’t face himself if it weren’t true. His hand rested on Maes’s knee, and had been there for the entire agonising wait that they had endured as they made their report at the police station. Now there was only more waiting, a polite ‘a detective will be here soon’ to tide them over. All the while, Maes hadn’t stopped shaking; though to be completely honest, Roy wasn’t sure where Maes’s tremors ended and his own began. Gracia was glued to Maes’s side, the two of them clinging to each other with dead horror in their eyes, and Roy was…lost. Helpless.
The clopping of approaching heels had Roy lifting his head to see a policeman walking towards him. It actually took Roy a moment to register which of the many people scurrying past was the one they were after, and he blinked once he realised that a young man with a fierce glare was approaching.
A young man who was far too young. He couldn’t have been a hair past mid-twenties at most, and Roy’s blood boiled at the horrible mixture of stress, fatigue, and grinding pressure of each passing minute. Youth combined with power bred arrogance. Roy knew that, had been the same deadly combination once upon a time, before a few choice lessons had knocked all his flimsy, self-constructed pedestals from beneath his feet. And knowing it, everything about the man tugged at another one of Roy’s frayed nerves—the cocky tilt of his hips, the stern set of his brows (who did he think he was?), and that stupid swagger. Long, blond hair was gathered in a low, messy ponytail, and two silver hoops dotted the top of one of his ears. He was wearing a red leather jacket and black gloves of all things, even in this heat, probably due to some inexplicable need to look cool.
(Two days later, Roy would instead remember the determination that had lit those golden eyes—not arrogance—and the hastily bundled spill of golden hair, as though the owner had scant had the time to even tie it up.)
“Mr and Mrs Hughes?” the policeman asked, and the three of them rose to their feet. The man before them slowed, and Roy fought hard to keep the bubbling anger in check. They’d assigned some punk ass kid, as though Elicia didn’t matter.
“I’m Detective Elric,” the man continued, coming to a stop.
“Maes Hughes.” The hand that Maes might ordinarily have extended was instead clutched tightly in Gracia’s.
“Gracia Hughes.”
“Roy Mustang,” Roy said softly, when Elric’s golden gaze fell to him. “I was with them when…” When we lost her, Roy wanted to say, but couldn’t.
After a pause, Elric simply nodded. “Have a seat.” Elric waved for them to sit down, as he collapsed in a heap on a chair opposite them. “I’ll be looking after your Elicia, right?”
“Yes,” Maes said, voice steady, though his hands shook. Despite Elric’s words, Maes still stood, as though he hadn’t heard a thing beyond his daughter’s name. It took Roy’s hand, firm on Maes’s shoulder, before he sat down once more. “She’s just turned three, she was wearing a pink dress and had her hair in pigtails. Light brown hair, it’s only at her shoulders, she—”
Elric leaned forward, and flipped a page in his notepad. “I’m going to ask you to slow down a little, Mr Hughes,” he said. One part of Roy admired him for the firm tone. Another part bristled at the interruption. “Officer Brosh—he was the one you first spoke to?—he gave me a quick run-down already. I’m just gonna have to ask a few extra questions, just to get some things clear. Is that all right with you?”
“Of course,” Maes said, voice hoarse. “Anything.”
“From what I’ve got here,” Elric said, flicking through his papers, “you were on the retail end of Main Road, and Elicia was with you. At approximately 1:35pm, you were standing in front of Armstrong’s Toy Kingdom, and then she disappeared. You looked for her for roughly an hour, and filed a report with our department, which is marked 3:03pm.”
“Yes, we were out shopping,” Gracia said. “We were at the toy shop just—just in front of the entrance. Where the children’s costumes are displayed.” Her knuckles clenched white against the cloth of her trousers. “We’d taken our eyes off her for just a second, and then…then someone took her.”
Notepad abandoned, Elric leaned forward. “Did you see who?”
Maes and Gracia both shook their heads, but then glanced expectantly at Roy, who forced his voice to work. “I—I’m not sure.” Roy swallowed, and forced his voice to steady. “I’m not sure.” And he hated that he couldn’t be. Ex-military, now politician, observation and attention were his most important tools. And he hadn’t been watching or alert when it had mattered the most. “I was the first to notice she wasn’t with us. I’d spotted a stuffed toy that I thought she might like, I looked up to see where she’d gone. And then I think—I think I saw her. Walking away, and I think perhaps she was with a woman. It was only a glimpse, though, before I lost her in the crowd.”
Then he’d pushed his way roughly through the walls of people, shouting and panic rising in his throat. But by the time he’d broken through to what he thought had been the spot he’d last seen her, Elicia wasn’t there. Another two hours of searching, increasing terror, and desperately asking all the shop attendants had revealed nothing. The blistering heat of summer meant that people kept their eyes forward and feet swift in their haste to evade the sun.
“And what did the woman look like?” Elric asked.
“I—” Disappointment rose high in Roy’s throat. Was it possible, he thought, for the emotion to choke you? “I think brown hair. Quite long, tied loosely, I think? Not incredibly tall. Possibly a pink shirt. But it really was only a glimpse, and I can’t even—I don’t even know if Elicia was with her. She might’ve just been standing where she was. I don’t know.”
Despite the vague description, Elric nodded, and jotted down a sentence. “And you stayed on Main?” Elric asked.
“I—I think so,” Maes said, glancing at Gracia.
“I can’t remember any different either,” Gracia agreed, and Roy simply inclined his head.
“Right then.” Elric’s expression had gone blank as he tapped his pen against his notepad, and he stared absently at the tiled floor. Roy cursed whichever stupid ass had decided to give them a bratty detective who ended up bored with his cases barely ten minutes into them. “Did you go down any of the alleys where the markets are? Anywhere near the grocer’s or the butcher’s?”
“We were mostly just browsing the jewellery stores, and some of the little artisan shops with toys.”
“I hadn’t had time to get her a birthday gift yet,” Roy said quietly. “I told her to pick whatever she wanted.” It had been so typical of him, hadn’t it, not to have enough time for his goddaughter? If he’d just made the time for once in his life to have had his shit together, they wouldn’t have been there at all. He might’ve taken Elicia out to lunch, or to the park instead. Anything but shopping on Main Road in the early afternoon because Roy Mustang had once again been too busy to worry about something as trivial as his goddaughter’s birthday.
“So you didn’t approach any of the side streets at all?” Elric asked again.
“We just said that,” Roy snapped, before he could hold back the anger.
Instead of anger, annoyance, or even a dirty glare, Elric simply regarded him with a level gaze. His golden eyes were steady as he turned to face Roy, pen still tapping against his notepad.
“I just wanted to check, Mr Mustang. It’s easy to forget things when you’re upset.”
Roy bristled; did Elric think he was some kind of psychological genius now? But Maes spoke before Roy could say anything. “I don’t remember going anywhere but Main,” Maes said. “We had lunch at home first, and we hadn’t been out for long, before…before we lost her.”
“All right,” Elric said, standing. “If you remember anything else that you’ve left out, feel free to call. Here’s my number,” he said, handing over a card to Maes. “Otherwise I’ll let you know as soon as there are any developments.”
“There’s nothing else we can do?” Maes asked, and the desperation in his voice matched that in Roy’s heart.
“Best you can do is to rest, and keep thinking of anything else you might’ve seen,” Elric said quietly. “We’ll find her for you.”
Will you really? Roy wanted to ask. Elric spoke with the quiet confidence of inexperience. So young, so sure of himself and his ability to fix the world, until he realised too late that he couldn’t. That there were things that bigger than the individual, forces you couldn’t control, because you were only a puppet in a much larger world.
And Roy felt like such a puppet: strings cut, no will of his own, the fate of Elicia Hughes in the hands of some young stranger.
“We’ll…we’ll head off then,” Gracia said shakily. “Roy…?”
It took Roy a moment to realise that Maes and Gracia were both looking at him expectantly, and another moment for him to realise why.
“Is there somewhere I can get a drink?” Roy asked Elric, and his voice sounded distant. He didn’t need water, didn’t think that he could even stomach the thought of it. But he couldn’t—he couldn’t be with Maes and Gracia right now. Couldn’t stand the sickness in his stomach and heart, couldn’t bear the thought of sitting through an agonising car ride with all this weight and darkness bearing down on him.
“Kitchen’s through there, there’s a water dispenser,” Elric said, pointing. ‘You need help?”
Roy shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get myself back to the office, and I’ll see you two later,” he said, heading in the direction of Elric’s gesture before either of them could question why he was going to go back to work.
It was easy enough to find the kitchen, and Roy was glad that it was empty. His fingers tingled as they released a plastic cup from the stack that sat next to a water dispenser, and the sound of water rushing into the cup was distant and odd. When it was filled, Roy simply stared at it.
The cup shook. You can try (and goodness knows Roy did) to control everything. Only ever have five blue pens and one red on your desk at any given time, close your office door for ten minutes in the morning when you first arrive before opening it up again, stir the sugar into your coffee with three cycles clockwise and once anti-clockwise—and still.
And still, when it came down to it, when Roy needed strength the most, he couldn’t control his body. The clear of the water shuddered, the blue tint quivering inside the semi-translucent white of the flimsy plastic cup. His breath fought in his throat, heavy and thick, and with a detached kind of fascination he watched as water sloshed over the lip of the cup, too full for his unsteady hands.
He moved—arm up, fingers curling—to bring the cup to his lips, and the shock of cold water down his throat grounded him. There was time enough, later, to shake apart in the comfort and solitude of his own home. For now, he’d head back to the office. There was work to do. There was always work to do.
Crumpling up the cup to toss in the bin, he drew out his phone to message Maes.
To: Maes Hughes [4:52pm]
I’ll be around later. If there’s anything at all, let me know.
Not expecting a reply, he slotted his phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket, where it always sat. Slowly, deliberately, he sucked in a breath, and tried to still his twisting heart. One foot in front of the other, left, right, left, right, he walked out of the kitchen.
He meant to leave immediately. Go back to the office to work, catch up on things that had been neglected in the chaos of the day. But then he caught sight of Elric, still in the halls. Another woman had joined him, her hair dark and clipped short in contrast to Elric’s long gold, and Elric was leaning against the vending machine, frowning at the ground as the other woman spoke to him.
“…anything to do…need…”
Elric sighed, and Roy desperately hoped for that to be fatigue, not exasperation.
“It won’t… irrelevant…forget about it…” Elric’s voice was low, but Roy caught enough.
Forget about it.
Enough to have his heart stuck in his throat as the woman nodded and walked away, enough for fear to once again since its greedy claws into his heart and crawl up his throat, forcibly ejecting words from his mouth.
“Elric,” Roy said, the word ringing in his ears. Too loud. Too much, but he had to make sure his goddaughter would come back to them.
The detective turned his head, frowning, then relaxing when he spotted Roy.
“A word, if I may?”
Elric simply raised an eyebrow.
Roy wanted to punch the expression off his face.
“I’ve got work to do,” Elric said, unimpressed.
More like he’d bounce a tennis ball around and call it a day. Roy knew his type. Had seen it far too often (had been his type) in the military—young, cocky because they were young, and careless because they were cocky.
Elicia deserved better than that.
“Right,” Roy said, and tucked his hands carefully in his pockets. “Just about that, I just…I was just wondering if we would get a chance to speak to your superior at all.”
“My superior?”
“The one who’s in charge of this case.”
Golden eyes narrowed, and Elric tilted his head. “I’m in charge of the case.”
Roy blinked. “You.”
“Me.”
They were screwed, Roy realised distantly. They—he had this kid tasked with finding Elicia, this kid who looked bored with Roy’s very presence, who’d been studying the floor as they’d spoken to him. A man who was in the prime of his life. A man who was so sure of his success that it could only lead to failure, because that firm belief in your own intelligence at that age always did.
Roy had to stop it. He couldn’t—he couldn’t trust some naïve detective with barely any experience to his name lose Elicia.
“Elicia is important to me. I—I would give anything to see her safely back to us. If you could—if there’s anyone else that could take over, at all. Anyone at all. If it’s…if you need money to have someone else come on, or anything.” Elric frowned, but Roy’s mind was working frantically. Get him away, off the case, get a real police officer on this.
Then it occurred to Roy. Something that he could do, had the ability to give, instead of standing here helpless as he watched some bored upstart lose Elicia. (You’re the one who lost her.) “A position, or promotion,” he offered. “I know—I’m in Parliament, if you want—”
“Stop,” Elric said coldly. “And don’t tell me how to do my job. I’m good at it, and I’ve been good at it for years without any money except for the pathetic public service wage this city gives me.”
Roy swallowed, but ploughed on. “I only meant—”
“I know what you meant, Mr Mustang,” Elric interrupted again, and his eyes flashed. “And let me tell you what I mean: you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. You can go home now.”
“I need to—” Need to do something, need to be forgiven, need to act and do anything that would take away this horrible, horrible guilt in sitting in his chest. “I was the one that lost her,” he admitted quietly, the words almost a plea: let me atone. But Roy knew—had learnt long ago—that the world was not quite so simple in releasing your conscience. There was nothing to be done here, and Roy hated it, hated the bitter feeling of helplessness that sat in his mouth.
And it wasn’t even Elric. It was Roy. It was Roy’s immense guilt over the whole situation. If only he’d gotten Elicia a present earlier. If only he’d taken the time somewhere else. He had suggested the outing and the location. A million little questions of ‘what if’ and the smallest changes in circumstances were buzzing in his mind, and all pointed to one guilty party: himself.
He needed her to be all right. For Elicia, for Maes, for Gracia. And selfishly, for himself.
“Go back to your friend,” Elric said eventually. The words were gruff: not placating, not telling Roy that it wasn’t his fault (because even Elric knew that it was). But it wasn’t unkind. Elric’s frown softened a little, and he sighed. “You want something to do? Get them something to drink. Be with them. Just let me work; you want me on this one. Trust me when I say we got the best team working on this.”
Oh, Roy wished that he could. But he’d been around too long and seen too much to simply believe the word of a stranger.
“Do you—do you have enough to find her?” he asked, willing his voice to be still. But no matter how hard he tried, the words sounded pathetic. An utterly useless question, but it matched the helplessness and futility that rang through him in that moment, standing there with his hands balling into loose fists as he fought the hopeless need to do something.
“I’ll do everything I can to bring her back. Like I said, we got the best people on the job.”
You can’t do anything here. Walk away.
But Roy couldn’t. He stayed rooted to the spot, silent. Elric regarded him a moment longer, before sighing.
“She’s important to me too,” Elric said quietly, before walking away, long ponytail swinging from side to side as he headed down the hallway, and disappeared around a corner.
Roy had to let that be enough. And despite every instinct that had him warring against believing someone who looked like they had only just gotten their licence, let alone their detective’s badge, Roy tried to believe him.
If Ed was forced to describe his own office, he’d say it was unique. Maybe a bit weird. The walls were lined with shelves, papers, stationery, and other random bits spilling from them. There were several large packets of chips sitting in a shopping back in a corner (they’d been on sale!), and the room was pretty much empty of other décor. Ed kept his desk small to maximise pacing space, because he really couldn’t work sitting down for very long. Because of that, most of his stuff lived on the floor instead: a stack of pens, his dodgy printer, several notepads, and other assorted bits and pieces that you collected when you were stuck in the same office for over four years. What remained on the desk were the important things: a couple of pictures, including one of him, Al, Winry, and Granny, his computer, and the set of ceramic cats that Al had given to him when he’d been made detective.
(“They’re lucky,” Al had told him primly as he lined them up next to the computer. “For keeping you safe.”)
If other people described Ed’s office, they’d probably just say it was messy.
‘Unique’ was a much better word.
(Okay, messy probably was pretty accurate. But pretending that there was actually some sort of system in what was an absolute mess seemed to piss people off, so he stuck with it.)
So when, after his meeting with the Hughes, he collapsed on his spinny chair to a distinct crunch and crinkle of the destruction of some sort of wrapped snack, it wasn’t all that surprising.
Rising again, he discovered a flattened chocolate bar that had, until about a second ago, not been quite so flat. “Huh,” he said. It took a moment before he figured out how that one got there, before remembering that being tired did weird things to his brain, and that the late night he had pulled yesterday (or really, this morning) had him sitting on the floor because he got sick of the chair, the chair instead being used as his desk. Didn’t really matter anyway, he decided, and he threw the bar into the bin that essentially served as his snack drawer.
(His brother had sighed once, when he’d spotted the stash. “Why are you using a bin to store food of all things?”
“It’s easy? It’s just a container, Al.”
“No, but brother, it’s the principle of the thing.”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Another sigh.)
If there was one thing that Ed was super careful about though, it was his files. Yes, relevant newspaper clippings and random artefacts and several bouncy balls might lie haphazardly over his desk (and floor and shelves), but the folders that lined the one bookshelf that sat to the left of his desk were neat and organised. Ed yanked a blue folder from the third shelf up, one of almost five that sat in a row, each labelled with the same file number.
Elicia Hughes didn’t belong in that file.
This one had been existing. Five dead, two having disappeared from one of the streets off Main, the other three from seemingly random locations. And though Ed didn’t have enough to go on for those disappearances, there were too many differences with the Hughes case for him to think that they were connected. Sure, the original thought—disappearance close to Main—had been what had had the case coming to Ed in Homicide instead of Missing Persons in the first place. But there were too many things different as well. Elicia was too young, for one thing. All the other victims had been in their twenties, and for the murderer to break pattern now would be weird. Not impossible, but weird. Added to the fact that Elicia had been seen with a woman, whereas none of the other victims had ever been seen with, well, anyone before disappearing. And the connection with location was tenuous at best, especially seeing as the Hughes and their friend hadn’t wandered anywhere near where the first two victims had disappeared.
And then after the last body had been found, there had been a note.
You’re quite fun, Detective Elric. I’ll see you soon.
That particular slip of paper was sitting in the fifth of the blue folders, along with several newspaper articles about the ‘Chopper’ murders (a really original name for serial stabbings). Ed had stared at it for hours on end, trying to pin the handwriting, the language, anything, but it had yet to lead anywhere.
With Elicia, there was nothing. No note, no message. Again, not impossible, but just weird that there would be silence after that particular note.
But Elicia had come to Ed, and well, she was as good as his now. It wasn’t like he could just say ‘yep, nothing to do with me, she ain’t dead, come back to me when she is’. Ed had seen too clearly the grief that the Hughes were trying to fight back, the fear and horrible burden of guilt that lay on the shoulders of Elicia’s godfather (even if he’d been a bit of an ass about it). No matter how many years Ed did this job, he couldn’t really turn his back on people who needed him.
Plus, kids should have their parents, and the fact that Elicia had been missing hers for a few hours was already too much.
But Ed still flipped through the folder he’d selected to the map of Central City, marked with five red dots to show the location of the five disappearances. No harm in double-checking, no harm in going over things. Ed always found it best to just let his thoughts run when he got a new case anyway, and flicking through his old information was useful background as he let his mind wander before settling.
Three years old. Out with parents. Stayed on Main Road, and seen wandering off with a woman. Long, brown hair, loosely tied…that sounded familiar. Someone he’d seen recently? But there had been so many families lately (five victims had such a horribly human effect, and Ed had been to far too many funerals) that it was hard to place exactly. And it wasn’t exactly the best of descriptions, though Ed had seen the desperation in Mustang’s eyes as he tried to remember, so he hadn’t pushed. Maybe if it came to it, if Ed thought he was onto something, he’d ask again. But for now, he’d just…let it sit and simmer in his mind. Usually, familiar things seemed familiar for a reason, so he filed it away as food for thought.
Or maybe…maybe Ed was just projecting. That realisation came as his eyes wandered over to the only other photo that sat on his desk. Him, his brother, and his mother, playing in a park when Ed had been six.
Long, brown hair, strewn over one shoulder and held in place with a loosely tied hairband.
Another victim.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Ed hadn’t even acknowledged the sound before Maria Ross walked in.
“Coffee, as promised,” she announced, placing Ed’s favourite Star Wars mug on his desk.
“Thanks,” he said, immediately moving it to the floor.
Ross just sighed. “You’re going to knock that over again, and then there’ll be stains, and cockroaches, and you will suffer.”
Ed rolled his eyes. “It’s fine.”
“Elric, I see two separate coffee stains in your pathetic excuse for a carpet, and they’ve been there for weeks.”
Scowling, Ed pressed his palms together, and scooted his chair over to the offending brown spots. Ed leaned down, blue light sparked, and the stain was gone.
Now it was Ross’s turn to roll her eyes. “You can’t just alchemise all your problems away.”
“Watch me,” Ed said, grinning now as he wiped away the small amount of moisture that he had drawn from his carpet on a scrap piece of paper. Rolling his chair away once more, he tossed the paper into the bin. “I can even alchemise your problems away if you want.”
But Ross was shaking her head. “Actually, you can’t.”
Ed frowned. “What?”
“The ink sample you drew out of the note that was left? Matches the Armstrong Everyday Use Ballpoint Pen, in black. As in, the pen that everyone and their dog uses. The type that they have a million of sitting in post offices for people to write addresses with. That pen.”
“Yes, Ross, I get the point.”
“Our killer didn’t use some fancy fountain pen,” she continued, and sighed. “That one’s a dead end. But they did find something that might interest you.”
Ed grunted, and waved at Ross to continue as he spun around in his chair, grabbing a bouncy ball. He started tossing it against the wall, the rhythmic thumping grounding his thoughts. All this thinking needed movement.
“The lab team think that they found what looks like blood, on the note. It’s more of a tiny speck than anything, but when they chucked it under a microscope they said it’s probably blood.”
Ed grunted. “Victim’s?”
“They reckon it’s not human.”
At that, Ed’s eyebrows winged up, and he stopped spinning. The chair slowly rotated so he was facing his window, watching the darkening of the city skyline. “Why’s that?”
“Something about how it spread, hell if I know. That’s why I thought you’d want to check it out.”
“Yeah, I will. Have they done anythin’ with it yet?”
“No, but I think—”
“Good, tell ‘em not to touch it.”
“Elric, we’ve got lab techs for a reason.”
“Yeah, so they can do all the simple stuff, and not fuck up the important shit. If it’s that tiny, I don’t want anyone touching it but me.” Ed paused. “Or Al. But Al’s got other shit to do. So just me.”
Ross sighed. “Tringham’s going to be on my back again.”
“Tringham’s always on our backs.”
“No, only mine. You just sit up here and avoid him.”
“Well, last time I went down to tell him he was doin’ a shit job, he didn’t like it,” Ed huffed. “Easier if you’re the one telling him.”
“Do you have time to go around playing scientist, though?”
Ed shrugged. “I’ll make time.”
“Need help with the Hughes deal?”
Ed hesitated, but shook his head. “Nah. Like I said before, it’s irrelevant to the Chopper case. I think.” Or so he hoped. If he was wrong…
If he was wrong, then that was another little girl’s life that he’d lost. He’d done it once, and he didn’t think that he could stomach it a second time.
And it was that thought which had him saying, “I’m turnin’ somethin’ over in my head. If that doesn’t pan out, I’ll give you a shout.”
“Right, yell if you need me.” With a final smile, Ed’s trusty partner left him to his own devices. Devices that didn’t involve him going anywhere near Russell Tringham, thankfully.
With a sigh, Ed tumbled out of his chair to sit cross-legged on the floor, yanking the other couple of Chopper folders down with him, and stacking Elicia’s on top of them. Sipping his coffee—piping hot despite the summer heat—he leaned his back against his desk, his leather jacket creaking as he settled.
One kid, two apparently loving parents and godfather, though Ed would keep a sliver of suspicion for the three of them. Their distress had looked genuine, but Ed didn’t get to where he was by believing everyone who he talked to. Still, for now, they could get the benefit of the doubt, and Ed mulled over their story.
They’d taken her shopping. Without realising, Ed closed his eyes, trying to picture the street. It would’ve been hot, the heat moving people along sluggishly. Sunglasses would’ve covered up everyone’s vision, and the discomfort of the warm air would’ve kept minds focussed on the next destination and getting indoors, not on any children underfoot. Armstrong’s Toy Kingdom was a huge place, spanning over almost a whole block on the street. There was also a couple of clothing stores around there, Ed knew, and he pictured how it would’ve been that afternoon, with the sun beating down and people milling about. Around the corner, the butcher’s, and a supermarket next to that. From there, it started turning residential. Ed himself had been down that end of the street because of the Chopper murders, two of the victims having last been seen down that street. He’d had to interview a few of the residents there, though they had turned out rather useless. Young families mostly, some with small children, a few house pets—
A woman with long-brown hair, loosely braided.
Ed opened his eyes.
No way. That would—he’d interviewed someone just like that. Surely it would be a massive coincidence if this was all it took?
Still, Ed supposed there was no harm in trying. Half his job seemed to be dumb luck anyway, so he picked up the phone, and flicked the folder open to where he’d recorded details of the interviewees. It rang three times before someone picked up.
“Hi, Ms Thomas? This is Detective Elric.”
The clock outside had just obnoxiously bonged its way past seven o’clock when Roy finally decided to close his last documents, and shut down his computer. Heaving a deep sigh, he pushed his chair back from the desk, and gazed out the window to see the dark of night settling over the city.
The rest of his afternoon after his return from the police station had been a numb fog, mindlessly churning through menial tasks in a desperate bid to distract himself. Hawkeye—his best friend, boss-in-everything-but-title, and long-time confidant—had left about half an hour ago, with various threats to be constantly checking up on him throughout the night. He would’ve laughed if she didn’t also look like she was dead on her feet at Elicia’s disappearance. Would’ve laughed if the hollowed look in her eyes didn’t make Roy feel as though the floor had dropped out from beneath his feet.
But he was out of luck, now. All unimportant documents had been signed, emails replied to, and meetings scheduled. Anything else that was left needed his brain working at some actual level of functionality that he just didn’t possess at this moment. All that was left was to pack up (which he could do), eat (which he couldn’t), and head over to Maes’s. Maybe he’d get dinner for Maes and Gracia as well. They were unlikely to have made anything, not with the state of things, and perhaps—
Roy’s phone didn’t even ring for half a second before he picked up.
“Maes.”
“They found her,” Maes said, and Roy’s heart stopped. How could—it had barely been three hours. “They—it wasn’t even—it wasn’t even a kidnapping. But they know—we’re—meet me downstairs.”
The words were barely out of Maes’s mouth before Roy had slammed his office door behind him, unlocked, and bolted to the lift well.
“Where was she?” he asked, disbelievingly.
“A—the woman you saw. The woman—” But Maes let out a choked sob, and Roy knew he wasn’t getting any further with that. He waited impatiently for the lift, while his heart hammered inside his chest, so hard that Roy could feel the rhythm thrumming through his bones. Stumbling inside the elevator, he said nothing. Simply sucked in a breath, and listened to Maes sob over the line.
When the lift doors opened, Roy raced into the lobby, and exited into the dying warmth of the summer day. Night had fallen, but the darkness hadn’t entirely dispelled the sticky heat.
Roy spotted Maes first, and Gracia with him. But then Roy also saw another figure in a familiar red jacket, blond hair being yanked around in the breeze, and a parked car glowing blue and red with emergency lights.
“Maes—”
“She’s okay,” Gracia said, while Maes sobbed into one hand, his wife’s arm slung around his shoulders. Elric stood respectfully to one side, and Roy glanced between him, and Maes.
Roy gripped Maes’s arm, at a loss for words. “I’m—I’m glad,” he said, though that didn’t cover it. That didn’t cover how his knees were weak, how his heart wanted to burst into relieved tears as Maes was doing, and how the selfish thought was running through his brain that he didn’t need to have another death on his hands.
“Get in,” Elric said. “I’ll get us there quicker.” Without another word, he strode over to the driver’s seat and slammed into the car. Maes and Gracia followed quickly, shuffling into the back, which left Roy to take the front passenger seat. The engine rumbled to life before Roy had even clicked in his seatbelt, and Elric pulled away, lights blaring but siren silent.
An odd quietness descended, during which there was only the grumble of the engine, the creak of Elric’s jacket as he moved, and the quiet sniffles of Maes in the back seat.
“What happened?” Roy asked quietly, breaching the silence.
Elric’s eyes flickered to the rear-view for a moment before he answered. “More of a weird coincidence than anything. Long story short, she’s with a woman who runs an orphanage. The children were out at the shops as part of a trip, and Elicia basically just latched onto one of the kids without any of the adults noticing. At least, not until everyone was back on the bus and they were doing a headcount.” Elric sighed, but there was a hint of a smile lifting up the corner of his mouth. “They trekked all over town, so they had no idea where they’d picked Elicia up. So the woman—her name’s Rose—just filed a police report, and because our systems suck, it didn’t match immediately. Some idiot spelled ‘Elicia’ with an A instead of an E. They didn’t want her hanging around a police station, so they just let Rose take her home for the night.”
And…that was it?
All this worry and terror, and that was all?
No serial killers or child kidnappers. Nothing more insidious than the insatiable curiosity of a three-year-old, and a bungle in a government-funded system. Roy’s heart was still a tangled mess, and it all felt so silly now, but he didn’t know where to put the threads or how he should start undoing the knots. His fingers itched with the need to do something, for somewhere to channel all the fear, rage, and panic from the past few hours.
But all he managed was a quiet, “oh.” And the rest of the trip is silent.
Soon enough, they were back on Main Road, and in a detached way, Roy recalled how they had frantically pounded down these very streets in horrible panic mere hours ago. But then Elric turned into a street that Roy didn’t recognise, and another two minutes had them pulling up outside a house with a weathered green mailbox, and trimmed bushes lining the front yard. The car was eerily silent once Elric switched off the ignition, and the opening of his car door was almost invasive in the quiet.
“C’mon, we’re here.” The words had barely left his mouth before both Maes and Gracia were tumbling out of the car, and Roy—for a brief moment—was left alone in the vehicle. He watched the three figures trek up the garden path, observing the way two of the silhouettes stumbled and rushed in the fading light, and the easy gait of the third led the way. There was the ever-present sound of cicadas in the summer, but what Roy would remember of that night was the light which spilled out of the front door of the house, and Gracia Hughes dropping to her knees.
In his turn, Roy also exited the car. Maes was sobbing harder, and had now joined Gracia, kneeling on the stones of the garden path. Elric stood a away from the family, his head turned towards the figure of another woman who stood in the doorway, but every so often flicking back to check on the Hughes. For a moment, the panic was still caught in Roy’s throat because he couldn’t see Elicia, could only see the shaking form of her parents. His footsteps remained soft as he made his way up the path, but it was enough for Elicia Hughes to notice him, and when her little head popped up to peer over the shoulder of her father, Roy felt the knot around his heart finally come undone.
“Uncle Roy!” she screeched, and her pigtails—bless her—swayed wildly as she bounced on the spot.
And Roy couldn’t stand being apart from her for another moment. “Hi, princess,” he whispered, running forward, bending down, and then she was there, folded warm and safe in his arms. So young, so small, yet such a big part of their family. It had been mere hours, but the long wait had been agonising, terrifying, horrible in the possibilities of loss and grief.
She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay. The thought ran round and round Roy’s mind, desperately trying to convince him that things were back in place, back the way they were meant to be. It was a moment before Roy realised that it was Maes also murmuring the words in his ear, as though to convince himself that his daughter was safe and sound.
“Would you like to come inside?” a quiet voice asked, and Roy looked up to see a woman. Apparently the woman he had spotted earlier that afternoon, although he couldn’t place the face that he had purportedly seen in that crucial split-second. The hair was familiar, brown as he had described it, but that was as far as any resemblance to the brief flash of a person he had in his memory went.
“We’re okay,” Maes said softly, voice muffled against Elicia’s coat. “We should leave soon anyway. Thank you for—for looking after her.”
Giving Elicia one last squeeze, Roy stood. “Yes, we appreciate it. I’m Roy, her godfather. Thank you.”
“More than welcome,” she said warmly. “I’m glad I was able to help.”
“We’re incredibly grateful you found her,” Gracia said, standing as well. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she was smiling shakily. “So incredibly grateful. Thank you.”
“You should thank Detective Elric,” Rose said, and her eyes twinkled as she looked down at Elric. “He’s the one who made the connection.”
Elric simply shrugged. “S’my job,” he said simply.
But Roy…Roy was beginning to see that it was more than that for Elric.
They eventually said their goodbyes, and Elric and Roy both decided to give the Hughes another moment before they headed off. So Roy found himself standing at the door to Elric’s vehicle, watching as three of the most important people in his life simply held each other and breathed.
“How’d you find her?” he asked Elric eventually, to break the silence.
Elric let out a breath, and his bangs fluttered when he did so. “Dumb luck. We’ve had a couple of disappearances around this area recently, but no one’s ever seen anything. But I’ve done the rounds here a few times now, and your description kinda sounded like Rose, once I figured out where exactly I’d seen her. Thought I might as well try.” Elric clicked his tongue. “Wish I’d remembered sooner. Had this dumbass niggling feeling for at least an hour trying to place her. Shot in the dark, really.”
“Dumb luck,” Roy murmured, and Elric grunted in agreement. But luck very rarely was dumb, Roy had found. In fact, it was usually the product of intelligence, preparation, and planning. Of course, being in the right place at the right time was always helpful. But being ready and willing to be at that place, and being ready and willing to act when the moment came, that was down to hard work, and determination.
Whatever Elric had done, it hadn’t simply been a stroke of luck.
Quiet fell over the two of them, and Roy glanced down at Elric. He felt…stupid. Ashamed. Both which were not emotions that were usual in the course of his day. He had seen far too much of himself in Elric, and didn’t think at all that someone might have learnt humility and restraint at a far younger age than himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “About what I said back at the station.” The words barely made it out into the night air, and for a moment, Roy thought that Elric hadn’t heard, or didn’t understand what he meant. He was met with nothing but silence, and the seconds dragged on as the two of them watched Gracia hold Elicia tight, with Maes’s arms wrapped around the both of them.
But then Elric shifted, and shrugged. “S’all right. Just don’t be an ass, next time.”
Roy bristled, but then deflated just as quickly.
“I guess I deserve that.”
“You did,” Elric agreed, but his expression had softened. “Guess it was stressful, though. Ask my partner how many times I’ve chewed her head off when we’re under the pump.”
“Regardless, it was rude. I do apologise, and I hope I can make it up to you somehow.”
But Elric just waved it off. “Public servant. Don’t worry about it.”
“I appreciate the work all the same,” Roy said softly. “We all do.”
“Eh, I didn’t really do anything anyway. Rose had already made a police report. Would’ve been another hour or two, tops, before you found her.”
Roy was inclined to agree, for a moment. After all, there had been no malicious serial killer or child kidnapper responsible for any of this. Just an overly curious three-year-old, and some weird turn of events. Rose wouldn’t have kept Elicia from returning to her family.
But it had been Elric who had returned her all the sooner. Elric who had made the connection off Roy’s shoddy description, Elric who had called up some suburban citizen that he didn’t know, at a time when Roy suspected he should’ve gone home. And here he was now, making sure everything ran smoothly, smiling as he watched Elicia reunited with her parents.
Another hour or two apart from her parents may have been trivial, in the grand scheme of things. But Elric seemed to have fought for it regardless.
“We were lucky to have you. Which makes it all the more deplorable that I used such harsh words.”
“Geeze, the long words are more offensive than the harsh ones. I’m just a cop, Mr Mustang. Keep your apologies simple.”
“My most sincere apologies, Detective.”
Elric groaned. “I said simple.”
And finally, finally, Roy could laugh. A little chuckle, but something nonetheless. “All right, all right. But in all seriousness, if there is anything you need at all.”
“Food. Can never have enough of it.”
“I make a nice spaghetti bolognaise,” Roy offered.
And of all things, that seemed to get Elric’s attention. Suddenly, the man was looking up at him with glowing eyes and the beginnings of a smile, where his eyes had previously been resolutely trained on the Hughes. “Seriously?”
“Apparently. My staff seem to think so, at least.” Jean was always impressed with it and had ‘accidentally’ stolen it several times from their office fridge. But the real test was Riza Hawkeye, and when even she requested it on the occasional night that she visited Roy’s, Roy knew that he was onto something.
“Shit. Shoot,” Elric amended, and Roy wanted to smile when he made a face of disgust. “Sorry. Guess I’ll have to try that.”
“I’ll send it to your office. What’s the address?”
“Central City Precinct, Level 4, Homicide.” Elric paused, then added, “actually, just address it to me. If you leave food for the entire Homicide Department, it’ll be gone in two seconds.”
“Noted,” Roy said, the two of them shared a small smile, before turning their eyes back to where Elicia was babbling to her parents about her day. It was a safe thing to do, once the conversation ran dry.
But then a thought occurred to Roy. “Wait, if you’re homicide, how’d you end up with Elicia?”
Elric hesitated before replying. “We thought there might be a connection with somethin’ I’m working on. But that didn’t pan out.”
Roy didn’t miss the way that his expression had once again gone carefully blank, and for the first time, he noticed the slight slump of Elric’s shoulders and the shadows under his eyes. And he’d still dragged himself out here for them. “I’m sorry,” Roy said softly, and Elric looked up at him, surprised.
“Hey, I’m glad we found Elicia. It’s no big deal.”
“You didn’t have to come out all this way.”
But Elric simply shrugged. “Better if I follow these things through. That way no one stuffs it up with spelling errors,” he said, scowling.
All the same, Elric hadn’t needed to. Could’ve simply assigned an officer, or even just passed on an address to Maes and Gracia, and Roy once again almost got whiplash from the realisation that Elric was going above and beyond.
And with the whiplash came the overwhelming urge to kick himself for his earlier behaviour.
But before he could express the thought, Maes and Gracia were approaching, each of them holding one of Elicia’s hands. She swung and cackled between them, so blissfully happy, a bright contrast to everything in the past few hours. The woman—Rose—trailed along behind, watching the three of them fondly.
“Hey, baby, this is Detective Elric,” Maes was saying, and his voice was still thick with tears. “He helped Mum and Dad find you.”
Elicia dropped her parents’ hands to wave both of her own enthusiastically at Elric. “Hi Deta—Det—”
“Hi Elicia, just call me Ed,” Elric said, and the grin that he pulled out seemed to banish some of the shadows.
“Hi Ed!”
“It’s real nice to meet you,” he said, bending down, and the smile was still on his face. Not just the little smirks or quirks of his mouth that Roy had spotted once or twice this evening, but actual happiness. Roy couldn’t help but think that it suited him better than the shadows that had plagued him only moments before.
“We’re lucky we got him,” came a murmur in his ear, and Roy turned to see Maes standing beside him, watching Elric chatter and laugh with Elicia. Elicia was bouncing up and down excitedly, Elric gesturing animatedly, and something tugged at Roy’s heart.
“We were,” Roy agreed softly.
“All right, let’s get you home,” Elric said, and his hand was clasped firmly in Elicia’s as he looked back at the adults. “Told her she’d get to ride in a police car, but only if she’s a good girl. Has she been good?”
There was soft silence, filled only with the sounds of traffic and cicadas. Maes was looking suspiciously misty-eyed again, bending down to press a kiss to Elicia’s forehead as she waited with bated breath.
“She has,” he said, love in his voice.
Elicia’s squeals filled the evening as she leapt into Elric’s arms.