It's strange seeing them like this, sitting in the cell, sullen and pouting in a way that you might describe as child-like if you didn't know exactly what they were. If the memories of what happened during the confrontation with Roy weren't still in your mind. But that doesn't stop you from entering, from sitting down on the cot next to them. Your palms are sweating a little but you remind yourself that they can't do anything, not now. They might have been able to get their preferred form back after Edward stopped them from killing themselves but they were still weak. You shake your head, uncomfortable under their gaze and with that weird pang in your chest, and just as you're about to say something, they speak.

"Well, what do you want." It doesn't sound like a question, more like an accusation and you frown.

"I was checking on you. You're not eating," you say and that's mostly true, but it's not the only motivation you have. They snort.

"Oh, so now you're concerned." This is definitely an accusation, you think.

Now it's your turn to snort. As much as you hate it, you have to admire their audacity, implying that you should've cared earlier when they're a cold-blooded murderer. "I never said I was concerned."

"Then what are you doing?" That familiar smile is almost back and you're glad you don't shiver this time.

"I was curious, I guess. I wanted…"

"To see the monster up close?" Now they do smile, laughing a little. "Do I live up to all the stories?"

"No."

The smile on their face turns to a frown and they look at the wall, arms crossed over their chest.

"Hmp. Anyway, you were there, you saw."

"Yes." A pause. "Why did you do it?"

"What, kill Hughes? That's what everyone wants to know. This whole thing over one guy." The inflection they manage to put on each word, the peaks and valleys of their manner of speaking, is impressive.

"It's not just about him. You did a lot of things. Why?" you ask, as close as you'll get to asking your real question.

"I was following orders." They say it so casually, as if it was nothing, and it makes you feel uncomfortable. This isn't an excuse, you realize, just a statement of facts.

"But you liked it. You laughed about it."

"Of course I did! What d'you expect? For me to feel bad? To cry-" They might have been about to say something else but they fall silent, frowning and kicking their heel against the leg of the cot. And suddenly, you feel bad. It's not a pleasant feeling because you know what they are, what they've done, but you're thinking about watching them cry in that sewer and based on their expression, they are too. An awkward silence falls over the cell.

"It's hard sometimes, being confused. Not understanding." You can relate. Hell, right now you're struggling with that. You feel bad for someone like them and, really, you shouldn't. They deserve punishment. Yet... "I know what it's like to want to die."

"Shut up, shut up! You don't know anything!"

If they could have, they would have been on their feet. You can practically feel the anger in the air and they clench their fists. Now would be an ideal time for that fear to creep back up but it doesn't.

"Envy..."

"I said shut up, you idiot."

The venom isn't as strong now and they have a look in their eyes that you recognize. Shit. You feel bad. You actually feel bad because you get it. The confusion, not understanding, feeling as though it would be better to die than deal with things you just don't get. And Envy, can they even understand it at all, being what they are? They deserve punishment, they probably deserve to die, but right then all you want to do is let them know you get it. That you've been there. You lean over and wrap your arms around their shoulders, expecting to get punched at the very least. They tense but, to your surprise, that's it. You shift slightly, pulling them a little closer, your chin resting on their shoulder. In their lap, you can see their fists shaking even as they seem to relax. They make no move to return the gesture but that's alright, you never expected it in the first place.

"Humans are so pathetic," Envy says, as if they're trying to convince themselves of that fact.

You nod. You don't believe it, you're not even sure if they believe it, but they need to.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Get off me."

It sounds resigned but you comply, moving away from them. You can see them look at you from the corner of their eye but you can't judge the expression. It's not anger but it's not a pleasant look either. Giving a tight smile, you pat their hand briefly. They turn to you, frown still present, and you steel yourself for whatever they're about to hurl your way. Surprisingly, they throw your earlier question back at you.

"Why?"

"I already said, I get that feeling."

They whistle.

"Wow, sucks to be you."

You laugh.

"Yeah, but at least I'm not the only one," you say, getting up. As you leave, you can't be certain, but you think that they might have smiled.