Summary: The Truth will set you free. Or hold you hostage. Take your pick. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Naked

There was a hand on my waist, languidly tracing goose bumps that rose on my exposed skin. I could feel it trail lower, over my hip, and then down, settling in the dip between my thigh and abdomen. Sighing, I shifted to lie more fully on my side, the silky, white fabric of the nighty I'd worn to bed riding higher up on my body. Fingers flexed and I moaned, drowsily annoyed but still feeling the first flickers of want.

Hazy sleep sex was familiar, and after several years of marriage, it was something done more for the sensation of touch and the sensual comfort of affection than any real flight of passion. The night air was cool where I'd kicked the blanket off, the body next to mine, warm. I stretched, back arching, toes pointed, and hands reaching as I threw my thigh over a pair of hips in an effort to find solidarity.

A murmured platitude slowly left my lips, soft folds pressing with absent affection against the corner of a grinning mouth. Large hands slid up the small of my back as I settled, a long exhale leaving me as with a short, rolling movement, I completing the task of oneness.

"Oh. That's new."

I stiffened, suddenly awake and very much aware that that was not my husbands' voice.

My eyes flew open as I jerked up, hands flat on the motionless chest beneath me, convinced that my tired mind had somehow heard wrong, only to be blinded by white. White walls, endless white firmament, and a hard white floor beneath me, digging into my bare knees with a harshness starkly different from my shared queen-sized bed.

The dark, archaic door that loomed forebodingly in the background was ignored in favor of who (what) I was intimately connected to, a scream strangled in my throat as I came face to face with nothing. A face with no face, a body with no features; just a too wide smile that showed a disturbing amount of teeth.

I went to fling myself away, to sever the disgusting (terrifying) connection, but long fingers dug in, keeping me in place. The hoarse chuckle the thing made chilled me to the bone, the vibrations of the sound sickening as it traveled up my body.

"Ah ah. Stay a bit, brown eyes. It's only fair for one so out of place."

I was dreaming. A nightmare filled with a fear I could not name. I felt something upon me, a weight, a knowing watchfulness whose apathetic gaze laid me bare. It was too much. It was too little. I choked on my own spit, a thin strap of silk slipping easily down a coffee-colored shoulder as I stared at the smooth material flowing over my body, pooling at my hips beneath formless hands, shielding my nakedness. Somehow, I knew being raped in my sleep was far from the worst that could happen in dreams, but indignation rose like bile, fury and how dare it, how dare He. I grit my teeth, fighting the feeling of too much, of watching eyes, fingers gripping the wrists of the hands holding me down, painted nails piercing. I didn't understand why I wasn't at home, safe in my comfortable downtown Chicago condo, how I'd got here, or where the fuck my husband was, but even if this was some fucked up sugar dream, I was not a woman to be trifled with.

Frizzy, dark curls brushed against my neck as I leaned forward, lips lifting in a snarl. "Let. Me. Go."

The grinning visage sharpened, somehow. "I think not."

"You fuc-"

He, it, whatever it was, jerked up in a quick movement, silencing me with the unwanted intrusion. The glare on my face only served to make that impossible grin wider.

"So tempting, and so unique. I could cut you a deal, sweet thing, just for a cut of those beautiful brown eyes."

I rallied myself, grimacing, "I don't know what you want, but-"

And then suddenly it was sitting up, crushing my torso with pale arms, slippery voice hot in my ear. "It's not about what I want, is it, sweet thing? Always empty, empty, empty. Couldn't give him what he wants, couldn't fill the void, those judging eyes, the whispers of theFamily. And that empty space, four long years of empty bassinets, until, oh, one day you found out the Truth." An excited giggle seemed to escape it while I sat frozen and locked in its intimate embrace. But it leaned closer then, breathlessly giddy, and my heaving chest pressed closer to its unmoving one, my heart pounding in my throat.

"All. Your. Fault."

I swallowed, caught on tears. I couldn't have children. I knew it. My husband knew it. It was a rare genetic disease, something I couldn't have changed, no matter how I tried. We'd tried for years before we knew, and the aching hurt of it nearly killed us. He had been so, so disappointed when he found out, and I… I didn't like to think about it.

I felt long fingers in my hair, gently running over my face. It was still smiling, but this close, the grin looked feral with jagged teeth. Still, its voice was soft with promise. Its hands dropped to my waist again, holding gently, mockingly tender. "I can help you, sweet thing." Its head tilted, an animalistic movement. "For a price."

I didn't know what to think. Was this still a dream? Alarm, confusion, pain, hurt- it colored every thought, the swirl of emotion raging like a torrent, piecing deeper, opening up scar tissue and making it bleed. I couldn't think, not with that weight on my shoulders, the eyes peering at my nakedness, my soul-

-not connected to that hungry thing.

Like a downing victim finally breaking the surface of a still, black lake, my thoughts snapped into focus and I saw the Truth, in all its beautiful ugliness. I leaned forward, inadvertently rolling my hips and nearly gagging on the sensation, but I had something to say, and by God, nothing would stop me from saying it. I opened my mouth, and it leaned forward eagerly, featureless face seeming to twist in relish as I released a breath to form the words-

"Fuck you."

The world stilled, glass cracking just beyond the edge of hearing.

Then a black seam split its torso, and I was thrown back, body burning from the abrupt disconnection.

"Well. Can't have them all, I suppose." It mused, leaning back casually, arms behind its shapeless head. The split opened wide, the unfathomable gaze of eternity staring out, even as a loud creak echoed somewhere not too far behind me. I scrambled to stand, wavering, tired, confused, and so very very scared.

"A word of advice, brown eyes."

Black hands burst from the door, lifting me into the air and dragging me backwards. Rationality left me, the eyes, the thing, the entire experience-

-it was too much.

I screamed.

Nonchalant, the thing waved from its spot on the floor.

"Wear panties next time."