Dark Secrets of the Light
A Fullmetal Alchemist Yaoi Fanfiction Novel
Roy Mustang/Edward Elric
By
Beverly L. Anderson
Author's Notes
This is an alternative universe fanfiction. Characters are placed in a world of my own creation. In some cases, the characters and their personalities have been altered to fit the situation.
Warnings
This is a hardcore yaoi fanfiction. This is rated MA. This contains explicit sexual content. This story includes several adult themes. This story may contain at any point: non-consensual sexual acts, sexual abuse, physical abuse, depictions of child abuse, depictions of blood and gore, human experimentation, torture, and unethical scientific methods. This story also contains consensual sexual content. This story is not intended to be read by individuals under the age of 18. By reading this story, you are agreeing that you are both over the age of eighteen and aware of the possibility of disturbing material contained within.
Disclaimer
I do not claim ownership of any part of the Fullmetal Alchemist universe or of the characters. Hiromu Arakawa is the mangaka for Fullmetal Alchemist and owns this world and these characters. I am simply playing within it. Original elements do belong to me. There is no copyright infringement intended and I in no way make money from writing or posting this work of fanfiction.
For more information on Fanfiction, Fanart, and Legal Rights associated with both, see the Organization for Transformative Works at /.
Chapter One
Discovery
Central City was perhaps the most misnamed city in the State of Amestris. A small, out of the way place, almost a hundred miles from anywhere that mattered, the town was a small town trying to be a big city and failing miserably. The population was nearly a hundred thousand people, and they had a local college. North of the closest real city but smack in the middle of the State, Central City didn't welcome outsiders very warmly. Despite the midsized nature of the city, the people in city government had been there for generations, the titles passed from father to son. So it was when the State government insisted on using a State run police force, they were not welcomed with open arms. Most of those in Central City felt that they could handle things well enough on their own. President Bradley, head of the State of Amestris, did not agree.
The new head of the Amestris Police Force stationed in Central City was a man named Colonel Roy Mustang. Roy had been sent to the city with his own task force to take over the local police and install his officers in the high ranking positions. They were only six people that Roy brought with him, and most of those already in the police force were kept, though some were moved to different positions. This was not met with happiness. There was much resentment and some outright hatred of the interlopers in their city. Roy had brought in Deputy Chief Maes Hughes, Commander Riza Hawkeye, Major Jean Havoc, Major Kain Fuery, Captain Vato Falman, and Lieutenant Heymans Breda with him. The existing chief of police, Chief Alex Armstrong, remained in his position, though the rank of Colonel was installed as a superior rank by the State. Majors Kimblee, Ross, and Tucker were kept from in their positions as heads of their divisions along with the Desk Sergeant Denny Brosh.
It was a rough transition, but Roy tried his best to keep everyone in line. Central City was known for its tight knit community. While the city itself was rather large, the people in the city government tried its best to keep too much change from happening to their community too quickly. They did not like change, and they didn't like the State coming in and changing their police force.
Three weeks had passed, and finally Roy could walk down the street without getting glared at, well, he didn't get glared at by everyone now, just only a quarter of the people he encountered. It wasn't like he came here to turn things upside down. He was under orders from President Bradley. There were too many local forces that just did not have things together, and this was one of them. Part of the problem people had with him was that Roy was a war hero, but he was also rather young, in his late twenties. He had a lot of power and control for a man his age, and there were many things about him that set other people off. He didn't particularly care much for public opinion and often came off as condescending, even when he didn't mean to do so.
Things were strange, of course, as he got into the community. He didn't speak about it, but he wasn't particularly keen about being moved with his entire team like this. He followed orders though, and he did his job, no matter how many times he received dirty looks from the locals. His thoughts were somewhere around those areas when he ran smack into one of the local kids as he was walking down main street.
"Oh, oh, Colonel Mustang, sir I'm sorry!" squeaked the young man. He was a lanky, willowy boy in his late teens with sandy brown hair. Roy, of course, recognized him immediately. He had files on all the prominent citizens of Central City and their families.
Roy smiled, pushing his black hair from his eyes and kneeled down to help the kid pick up his satchel full of books that had scattered when they had collided. Roy was known for his quick mind, and one of his abilities was near perfect memory and analysis. Five books had slid out. One was a first grade reading primer, another was a book on advance biomechanics, a third was a book on basic first aid, the fourth a book on speech therapy, and the last a book on preschool skills. It was a curious combination of books to be certain.
"I'm sorry, Alphonse, right? You're the Elric boy that lives at the end of Mansion Road with your dad, Van Hohenheim, one of Amestris's head scientists."
Roy knew about their family even before he came to live in the city because they were perhaps one of the most influential forces in all of Central City. Hohenheim was a scientific genius, and his innovations alone had brought enough income into Central City that there was nothing the man could do that was wrong to most people in this city. For the State, he was one of the largest innovators and producers of advanced medical technology and genetic manipulation. He'd lost his wife before he moved to the area with a young son. Al, or Alphonse, was a genius as well, and was currently at the beginning of his college education at the local school. However, there were some strange rumors around the city about the family. The strangest of which was that no one had ever been inside their house. Al had many friends but his father said his work was too delicate to have others in the house.
Al smiled. "Yeah, I know you. Chief Armstrong was at the school when you came to town to tell us what was happening," he said with a grin.
"How are you doing?" Roy asked, slipping his white gloved hands into his uniform pockets. He never went out without his gloves.
"I'm good, Colonel Mustang," Al said, looking a bit nervous.
"Roy, I'm not on duty right now. Where are you off to?" he asked. "That's quite a stash of books you've got."
Roy knew now something was odd because the look that crossed the boy's face was somewhere between terror and anger. "Oh, yeah, discount books at the bookstore I work at. Never know what will come in handy!" he said, waving as he left. Roy watched for a long moment until he felt someone walk up behind him.
"What's wrong, sir? You've got that look," Jean Havoc said softly. Havoc was one of Roy's best people. Major Havoc was the head of the foot patrol section of the officers.
"Something's just not right around here," he said, watching Alphonse Elric disappear down the road.
"Yeah, well, you best be getting back to the office. Hawkeye's looking for you," Jean said with a smile.
Roy cringed. "That woman is a slave driver. Paper work, I hate paperwork!" he muttered, scratching his head thoughtfully as he turned and headed back to the precinct.
"Yeah, well, if you don't do it, she's going to crack you in the skull with that pistol of hers," Jean said with a smirk.
-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-
It was nearly another three months before something came up that made Roy sure that there was more happening than there appeared to be in the large house on Mansion Road.
He'd kept his eyes on various locals, including the too good to be true Hohenheim. Something about the man didn't sit right with Roy, and he couldn't quite figure it out. He had poured over his research and the work he did for the State as well as for the locals, and some of the things he did just didn't seem all that possible. There was no doubt that he was an innovator in science and technology. In his research, he often spoke about test subjects, or test batches, but none of them went into detail on exactly who the test subjects were and where they came from. Roy wasn't a biomechanical engineer, nor was he a doctor, but he did know a few things about genetics, and he knew that some of the things that Van Hohenheim had done would have to have had human test subjects. He'd developed an inoculation for a group of people in the east that were born with blindness almost seventy five percent of the time. There was another cure for previously irreparable cochlear nerve damage from explosive discharges or genetic deformity. He had come up with ways to actually repair brain tissue and nerves directly.
His son Alphonse was an A+ student, popular, and going to the local college with a full scholarship in mechanical engineering. He worked part time at a book store, and more than once Roy would see him leaving with a bag full of books. He never got another chance to see what books he was taking with him. Still, Roy's mind would go back to the first time he ran into him. Why would a kid like him need a reading primer and preschool activity books? It didn't make any sense at all.
He was also more than a little suspicious of two of his Majors. Major Solf Kimblee was a local who was over the administration and human resources division. He was the type that when he smiled, he made skin crawl and was constantly looking like he was thinking almost murderous thoughts. He had also doubled as the bomb disposal technician, which surprised Roy. The other, another local officer named Major Shou Tucker was the head medical examiner, and he had an almost unhealthy obsession with biology of things. It wouldn't have been so strange but the man would go on, in gruesome details, about autopsies and necropsies. When there did happen a murder or a mysterious death, he took great glee in showing graphic photos and describing in detail everything for the officers and
The only people Roy trusted for certain were his own. Something was happening in this town, and he was wondering if the police chief, a seemingly incorruptible man, was involved. Because of this suspicion, he kept his thoughts from Chief Armstrong. The man had been incredibly willing to work with him while the rest of the place had been at best resistant to the change in command, or at worst, outright aggressive about it.
Things culminated one fall afternoon when his assistant Riza Hawkeye buzzed him saying someone was here to see him. Curious he had her send whoever it was in and was surprised to see a wide eyed Alphonse Elric. One of his eyes was still deep reddish purple where someone had hit him with a more than solid punch to his face. Roy stood up and approached the lanky teen, both curious and worried. He didn't want to admit to the rising excitement in his chance because this was perhaps his opportunity to investigate further into what was happening.
"Alphonse, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked, truly worried. He'd never imagined the boy getting into trouble or fights. He was genuinely one of the nicest kids in town. More than once, he'd stopped and talked to Roy when he was out for his afternoon walk and passed the bookstore. They had talked about many things over the last months, from small talk to politics. Roy had been impressed at the boy's wide knowledge base for a kid that had never left home.
"Roy, Colonel, what…what do you do when…when you know something is wrong….but…but you can't tell someone b-because…you can't?" he said, tears already gathering at the corners of his eyes. He was clutching a ripped book satchel. The frustration and fear on his face was apparent. The boy was tormented by whatever had brought him to see Roy.
Roy reached out and took the bag as Al watched numbly, not moving to stop him from taking the satchel. Roy blinked and opened the ruined bag. Inside was a motley collection of books. All of them had been torn apart. Pages were scattered and crumbled in the bag and ripped into shreds. He pulled the cover of the reading primer he'd seen the day he'd run into Alphonse the first time out. There were dirty, smudged fingerprints around the edges. Someone had been using this book a lot.
"What is this?" Roy said, looking up.
"I…don't…it was okay before, but…but now…I can't be quiet. I'm scared, so scared, Roy, what do I do? If I say something…I…I'm betraying m-my father…I…but if I don't…he won't stop, he has to stop…" he said quietly. "I'm scared, and I just…I want to tell someone, but if he finds out…won't it be worse? Wh-what if nothing changes?"
Roy stared at him for a long moment then laid the bag on his desk. "Alphonse," he said softly and put both hands on the young man's shoulders. He looked up at him with teary eyes. "I'm not going to make you betray anyone. Stay here. I'll stop whatever this is. Just stay here."
Alphonse nodded, sitting down with shaking hands. Roy knew something was happening but for this kid to act like this, what could be going on? He'd thought that perhaps his father was abusive, but over the last four months since he'd arrived, he'd never had a mark on him. He stepped out into the bullpen and looked around. "Havoc, come with me. Got an assignment I need your help with," he said, feeling the eyes of everyone on them.
Jean came running, tucking his blonde hair behind his ears and pulling out a cigarette as soon as they got outside. "What's up, boss?" he asked, walking beside his colonel with a quick stride.
"Elric boy came in, black eye, scared to death. Something is going on in that house, and I'm finding out what," he said as he slid into the driver's seat of his State vehicle. Havoc jumped in beside him.
"How we gonna manage that, boss? We can't just walk in and do a search," Havoc said, scratching his head. They had State military backing, but they were not authorized to do unwarranted search and seizure of private property.
"No, just follow my lead, okay?" Roy said as they pulled up in front of the huge house at the end of Mansion Road. He trusted Havoc. The man would not let him down. He had an idea, and he just hoped it worked out the way he wanted.
They got out and went up to the door and knocked. There were lights on in some of the windows. "Dr. Hohenheim? Please come to door, Colonel Mustang, I need to speak to you immediately!" he called after his knocking didn't summon anyone to the door.
A few seconds later the door opened and the tall, blonde scientist stood there staring with a scowl on his face. "Yes, what is it?"
Roy cringed internally. Police show up at his door and he doesn't ask about his son. The alarms in Roy's head were starting to ring louder than before.
"Sorry to bother you, but we've had a report of a break-in at your neighbor's home, so we're checking in with everyone to see if they've heard or seen anything," Roy said with a very diplomatic smile.
Hohenheim frowned deeper. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be running the station?" he asked. "If there is a break-in, why would you not send a foot patrolman to check in? This makes no sense to send a Colonel for something like this."
Roy smiled brightly. "Oh, sir, you are somewhat of a VIP around here, I couldn't leave coming out here in the hands of foot patrolmen. President Bradley would have my head if I didn't personally see to your safety."
Havoc was impressed. Roy could lie, he knew that, but this was on a whole new level. He would have believed every word he said if he didn't already know it wasn't true. Hohenheim, though, did not seem impressed.
"There is no problem here, please leave," he said and attempted to slam the heavy door when Roy heard a crash inside the house. He knew it wasn't just him, because Hohenheim jumped. That was exactly the opening he needed. If there was nothing, he now had an excuse to enter the house. If there was something, he wouldn't have to face questioning. Granted, he did lie about the break-in. He only hoped that there was something to be found that made his superiors ignore his unauthorized action.
"Sir, step back, it might be the intruder!" he said, pulling his gun to the ready and quickly hiding a smirk that was threatening to break across his lips.
"There is no one here, it was…the cat," he said, trying to shove Roy back.
Roy was having none of it, though, especially when he heard something rattle. He shoved back on the door and Havoc followed him, holding the door as the scientist tried to close it even still with Roy standing in the opening. Hohenheim growled at him.
"Get the hell out of my house!" he snapped, lunging to tackle the other man despite the service pistol in his hand. Havoc was quicker, and snagged him back by hooking his arm around the other man's neck to stop him.
"Whoa there, Dr. Hohenheim, sir, you can't just attack the Colonel!" he said, and struggled against the scientist. He was a lot stronger than he looked. "Go ahead, boss, I got this," Havoc said, grunting as Hohenheim tried to get the broader man off of him.
Another noise caught Roy's attention, coming from a partially opened door in the middle of the room. He headed toward it, completely ignoring the profane proclamations coming from the owner of the house.
"Stay out of there!" Hohenheim screamed as Roy got closer to the door, almost yanking out of Havoc's grip. Roy turned and stared at him as he pulled open the door to reveal a set of stairs leading down into a dark basement. Again, a small noise, not like before but something was moving down there. "That's a lab, I have experiments down there! Stay out, you'll ruin them!" he shouted.
At the shouting, Roy was sure he heard someone gasp and whimper. He turned back to Hohenheim. "Who is down there?"
"No one, there is no one down there, now get out of my house! I'll call President Bradley on you in the morning! I'll have your head on a plate!" he screamed. Havoc had to jerk him back hard again as he tried to lunge once more toward Roy.
"We'll see about that," Roy said, reaching in the doorway and flicking a switch that turned on a dim, flickering bulb in the basement. He started down the stairs and winced at the smell. It wasn't bad, but it was dank and moldy. It was not a pleasant smell and it did not match what most of the labs he'd been in smelled like.
If this was his lab, there was something seriously wrong with the guy. He could smell wet dirt, ammonia, and the distinct smell of rats and mice. He stepped down onto the concrete floor and put away his pistol. His heart was in his throat because scenes like this didn't bode well for what was to be found in them. He'd been in a war, after all, and he'd been in dark, dank places like this. The things usually hidden in them were terrible beyond words. He heard what sounded like metal scraping concrete, and now he knew he was hearing someone breathing. There was someone down here. The doctor was lying about it for some reason. What was he going to find?
"Hello?" he called, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
It wasn't that he was in fear of his life or anything. He'd often been in much more dangerous situations, to be honest. No this was a different kind of fear, the one that sits low in the belly and twists and turns because it isn't the kind of fear that makes a man run. No, this was the kind of fear that makes a man sick beyond words. This was the kind of fear when walking through a burned out husk of a building and knowing that a body burned beyond recognition would be found at some point. This was the kind of fear when walking through a scene of battle and knowing that there would be someone that couldn't be saved. This was a fear that could not be run from by a man like Colonel Mustang.
Again a subtle scrape of metal and a slight gasp resounded, and then almost a whine in the darkness beyond the light's dim radius could be heard. "Please, my name's Roy, I'm here to help you, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, trying to keep his voice even. Again, a sound of fear, quickening breath, he knew that sound quite well.
Roy pulled out his flashlight and stepped toward sounds carefully. He didn't think whoever was down here was dangerous, but scared people sometimes lashed out. He really didn't want to lose his head like that in trying to save someone. He followed the concrete path toward the back of the basement past the light.
The place was lined with shelves, and only half of it had stone walls. He'd come down a straight set of stairs with a wall almost in front of them, forcing him to have to turn and go back under what would be the area that Havoc and Hohenheim were standing over. If he was right, the stone walls stopped at the end of the house, but beyond that point there was a dirt portion of the place. He walked under a broad a stone archway and it opened into a round, dirt room. The floor hadn't even been covered with concrete. This was where the damp earth smell was coming from. A coppery, metallic smell caught his nose and again his heart beat in his ears. He sung the flashlight around and saw that there were furnishings in here of a sort. There were shelves and tables in the back, a steel table smack in the center of the room, and a…bed? Roy stopped, his mouth going dry.
There was a dingy cot, not really a bed, over to the side, and the steel table looked to be some sort of surgical table. Roy glanced at the table then walked toward the bed. There was no pillow, and only a thin blanket laying on it. He shook his head as he traced the flashlight over the small space. How could anyone live in this sort of condition? He spun around and stared when he heard movement behind him and caught a shadow moving just outside his flashlight's range.
"Please, can you come out? I won't hurt you," he said softly, heading in the direction of the noise and where he saw the shadow move. Behind a rack of shelves he heard the quick breathing and as he moved his light toward it, he caught sight of what looked like blonde hair and fingers gripping the shelf. It was a corner, and whoever it was had nowhere left to go.
He moved slowly, the light starting to illuminate a figure now, crouching behind the metal shelf, and it was definitely a mess of blonde hair on it. He kneeled down a couple feet away from them but kept the light on them.
"Hey, who are you?" Roy said quietly.
The figure seemed to tremble but slowly, the head turned and a pair of golden colored eyes was staring at him from between the slats of the shelf. Roy smiled, the odd color of the eyes rattling him; that was not a natural eye color, they almost glowed in the darkness of the basement. "There we are, hey. I'm Roy; can you tell me your name?"
The eyes blinked and just stared at him. Roy moved forward and the figure jerked, the left hand moving and grabbing the side of the shelf. Roy stared for a moment, unsure if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. The hand, and arm from what he could tell, was metallic.
"I just want to know your name," Roy said, taking the distraction to inch forward bit by bit as he spoke. Whoever it was, they were frightened. He pointed to his chest and smiled again. "Roy," he said, tapping his chest and recalling the book on reading and speech that Alphonse had had.
"E-Ed…" finally came from the figure's mouth, but it was strained and obviously took effort for him to say.
Suddenly things began to come together all at once for certain. The books. Alphonse's appearance at the precinct. No one ever being allowed into the house. He had to take the chance on what he thought was happening.
"Ed, Al sent me," he said softly. "He's at my office right now. I can take you to him."
At the name, the boy's head came up all the way and he stared at him with those unsettling eyes glittering brightly at Roy. His mouth worked hard for a moment and he said softly, "A-Al…b-bro…b-brother…"
"Al's your brother, that's right, he wanted me to come get you," Roy said, standing up and moving forward. This time Ed didn't try and run; instead he pulled himself up on the shelving he was holding, and Roy winced. He could see now the condition he was in and only his experience kept him from vomiting.
He was wearing what amounted to a pair of ripped shorts of some sort, no shirt, and Roy could see where the metal on his left arm fused into the skin of his shoulder. His right leg was also metallic and fused into the skin of his thigh. His face was dirty and drawn, and his long blonde hair fell around him in dingy strands. Roy could count his ribs easily, and even in the dim light of his torch, he could see there were numerous bruises and cuts on him. Where he clutched at the metal of the shelf, the metal was buckling under his metal hand. He watched Roy with suspicious eyes and didn't move at all as he looked him over. He stood perhaps five foot or so, and it was obvious by the fact his skin was nearly translucent, he hadn't been outside in a very long time.
"Let's leave okay?" he said, reaching out a hand for him.
Ed stepped out slowly, wobbling on his metal limb for a second before he fell to his knees with a clang. Roy, without thinking, moved forward and put his hands on Ed's shoulders in concern. Ed's head popped up and he gasped and stared into Roy's eyes for a long moment and Roy could feel the shuddering going through his body. It was too late, though, he'd done something he wasn't going to do, so he had to continue. He knew better than to initiate physical contact with a traumatized person before their full status was known. That was basic.
"Shh," he said, trying to stroke the boy's shoulder's in soothing manner as he kneeled in front of him. "I'm not going to hurt you; we're going out of here, okay? I'm going to pick you up," he said softly. He wasn't entirely sure that Ed knew what he said, though, so Roy leaned forward and put an arm under his and then moved quickly and lifted him up easily. He stumbled a bit, having expected the metal to weigh more, but perhaps it was because the boy was nearly skeletal as it was.
"We're going, Ed," he said, clutching the flashlight in his hand that held up his knees as he went up the stairs. Ed immediately buried his face in Roy's shoulder when they came into the brightly lit room.
Roy was not surprised when he found that Hohenheim had been handcuffed and taken to the car. Havoc jumped and ran toward him when he came out of the basement door.
"Havoc, take Hohenheim in. Take…take him…back to the station and throw him in an interrogation room," Roy said, feeling the boy's fingers digging into his back and shoulders.
"What the hell…" Havoc muttered, looking at his Colonel with wide eyes. "Who is it?"
Roy adjusted the waiflike body as Ed panted against his collarbone. "Apparently, Hohenheim's other son."
Havoc stared for a minute. "His what?"
Roy nodded. "Get an ambulance out here now; I need to take him to the hospital to see what kind of condition he's in. Call it in, and have Hawkeye meet me there with Alphonse."
Havoc nodded, pulling out the walkie on his belt. Roy moved into the living room where there was a pair of couches and tried to put the boy down but found him clinging to him even more than before. He winced, and eased himself down onto the sofa and situated the boy on his lap as comfortably as he could. He noted that he'd stopped panting on him, so perhaps some of his fear had abated.
He used one free hand to push the hair away from his face, gently working knots out of the dirty strands. Roy could easily tell the boy had beautiful hair, and even thin and drawn, his face was one of those that radiated when he smiled. Roy imagined that, of course, but he knew. He wondered thoughtfully how old he was. He had to be younger than Alphonse. That kid was easily almost six foot tall and had just turned nineteen. This one had to be much younger. When he'd stood up downstairs, he couldn't have even been five foot in height. Roy quickly noticed that he seemed to curl into him even more the more he stroked his hair and back. He had to keep him calm and still. He had no idea what condition he was in otherwise.
It seemed forever, sitting in the room alone, stroking the boy's head until the door opened to reveal a pair of medics. They came toward them, announcing themselves rather loudly, and Roy winced as the metal fingers dug into his arm, no doubt leaving bruises. He realized that Ed wasn't letting go.
"For the sake of all of us, I'm going with," Roy said, slowly standing with the boy. The two medics stared in disbelief at the state of the boy Roy held.
"We don't let people ride in the back that aren't family," the first said softly, automatically, her eyes centered on the emaciated form Roy held.
"Well, considering that we just took his father to the precinct, and he has a deathgrip on my arm with a metal hand, I think I'm going in the back with him. I don't fancy losing my arm," Roy said, wincing again as the fingers dug into his bicep even harder. He had said it as an exaggeration, but he was wondering exactly how much of an exaggeration it actually was...
The medics glanced at each other and nodded, letting Roy carry him into the back, but as Roy expected, Ed wouldn't let Roy put him down, and he wouldn't let the medic in the back touch him. If either of them got close to him, he'd tighten his grip and attempt to hide himself in Roy's arms even further despite it being completely impossible. Roy asked them to wait until they got to the hospital as he wasn't in danger at the moment. A few moments later, he got out at the hospital and was led into a private room where Ed hid his face even further, and Roy could feel his heart beating hard through his skin. He was almost afraid the kid was going to have a heart attack. He wondered how long he had been down there in that dark basement like that. This had to be terrifying for him.
The curtain opened and Havoc came in with one of the State doctors that had come down when everything changed for the town. Dr. Tim Marcoh, one of the premier researchers of the State program, had come with Roy's group to make sure the city's medical system was up to State standards. Finding the system well below standards, he ended up staying and taking over.
"Roy, good to see you," the doctor said, looking over the boy in his arms. "Granted, this is a strange circumstance. Tell me what has happened?" he asked.
Roy retold the story, beginning with his encounters with Alphonse. Marcoh nodded. "I'll sedate the boy before I try to examine him," he said, grabbing a syringe and quickly injecting Ed in the thigh. The boy tensed, but nothing more before he went limp completely in Roy's arms. Marcoh smiled and waited as Roy put him down on the bed. "I'll have the nurses clean him up before he wakes and we'll put some fluids into him and some clean clothes on him."
Roy left, stepping into the hall as the doctor and nurses cleaned him up and did the tests they needed. After nearly an hour, the doctor opened the door and motioned Roy back into the room and shut the door behind him.
"What's the verdict, Doctor?" Roy said.
Marcoh looked slightly ill as he spoke. "He's severely malnutrition, dehydrated, and he's covered with scars and marks. Some look to be surgically related, from what I can tell; the metal attachments are some sort of prosthetic as there is no limb under either of the metal limbs. He's suffered a lot of ill healed broken bones, and from what I can tell, he's suffered a lot of physical abuse. The eyes aren't natural, and I've seen an effect like it before, but I'll have to verify it before I make a determination. I've ordered an MRI and CT scan, and I've sent out for extensive amounts of bloodwork and genetic tests to figure out what's happened to him." The doctor paused, pinching the bridge of his nose for a long moment before he continued. "And there's signs of long term sexual abuse as well."
Roy felt his stomach drop. "How old is he; can you tell?" he said quietly.
Marcoh sighed. "He's in his late teens or early twenties, his wisdom molars have erupted already."
Roy looked at him sharply. "He's tiny; he looks like a fourteen year old."
"He's been without nutrition most of his life, most likely he never developed correctly," he said sadly, glancing at the curtained bed area.
Roy nodded. "What now?" he said softly.
"This is beyond my skill, Colonel Mustang. I believe you should first find out exactly what happened to the boy and why. All I can do is treat his physical condition. I'm going to warn you now, though, if this boy has been kept locked up since he was very young, and that is what it looks like, he may never recover, especially if he lacks basic skills and language as you suspect," he said and nodded to Roy as he left.
Roy stood still for a long time before he pulled back the curtain and looked over the now cleaned up boy. Twenty or older? It had to be impossible that he was older than Al. He was a lovely boy though, and Roy had to smile. Cleaned up, he looked to indeed have beautiful hair. It reminded Roy of… He paused. No, his mind was not going to wander there right now, he thought, shaking the past from his mind. The nurses had washed it and tied it up in a long braid. Without all the dirt on his face, Roy was even more struck by how someone could do such things to someone.
Behind him, he heard the door and Alphonse came rushing in with Hawkeye behind him. Roy smiled as Alphonse grabbed Ed's flesh hand and put his forehead to it, dropping to his knees beside the bed with a gasp of relief.
"Brother!" he cried and turned and looked at Roy.
"Thank you, I didn't know what to do, I…I went to see Ed, to help him with his reading, and…there was a visitor…and dad…he…"
"Al, don't, I know," Roy said softly. Al nodded and kissed the hand gently.
"He was crying and I know he didn't know the words for what he wanted to say, and that's when I argued with Hohenheim because I wanted to know why he'd do something like that to brother. He hit me and I dropped the books and he tore them apart because I wasn't supposed to be teaching him those things…" he said softly, reaching up and brushing a hand over his brother's blond head.
"Al, how old is he?" Roy asked.
"He's my big brother," Al said softly. "A year older than me, and he was born with the deformity, his arm and leg were just missing, and there were other things too. Mother tried to protect him, always told me before she died that I had to take care of him. Father, though, he hated him. Maybe that's why when Mother died, he snapped. We moved and as soon as we were here, he put brother into the basement and said that he was trying to fix him, and it would be alright. He promised me he'd make him better. I was only six years old then, I believed him. Brother couldn't talk or walk, and he was blind. When Father gave him sight, I thought he was telling the truth, that even though I couldn't tell anyone I had a brother, I thought he was trying to help him. He fixed his eyes. But then…it just got worse. He seemed driven by the success, so he started experimenting on him. Different serums, different prosthetics. He screamed so much I had to leave the house sometimes," Al said, running his fingers over the metal melded to his brother's shoulder.
"I would visit him when Father was gone even though I was forbidden. I realized that he could talk, if someone just taught him, and he was smart now, not like before when he couldn't do anything, so I thought Father was helping him, even though he caused him pain, he was fixing him. But I was wrong. He wasn't fixing him. He's been using him to test things on, the things that he sells to the State," Al said, sighing deeply. "There were others, too, visitors that would come to the house and disappear downstairs for hours with father. I…I don't think they were there for good reasons."
Roy glanced at Hawkeye. "Like who?"
"Major Kimblee, and Major Tucker, I know came by a lot…" he said softly, glancing at him. "That's why I came to you. I thought maybe you'd help him because if they knew I'd been there, I don't know what would have happened."
Roy looked at Hawkeye. "Get back to the station, if we've got corrupt officers, they have to stay away from Hohenheim, they might try to…"
The door opened and Breda was standing there. "Sir, Hohenheim is gone, he's not in the interrogation room."
Roy sighed and rubbed his head. "Wonderful…" he whispered.