Tap. Tap.
A small fist knocked on the glass walls of Envy's container. Envy blinked, moving painfully at the sound. The cold was… bad now; they'd always had a hard time with the cold, but it was horrible now, now that they were… were trapped in here.
"You okay?" a high-pitched voice asked, its owner's shining eyes peeking into the glass, breath clouding the smooth surface of the container. "You've been awfully quiet for a long time now."
What did she think? Of course Envy wasn't okay.
"Oh, I'm just fine." Envy hated the sound of their voice, high-pitched, weak, a mockery of what they wanted their voice to sound like. "Wonderful. Thank you so much for asking."
"Oh." Mei looked almost sad, and Envy felt the smallest bit of pride, that even in this state they were capable of hurting her feelings, at least. "I was just checking."
Envy ignored the last statement, as well as the glare that came from Mei's ridiculous little cat, and, turning from her, curled into a tight ball on the floor of the jar. The glass was cold, and Envy was so cold…
"At least we're not in the far north anymore," said Mei cheerfully, "but I guess it's not really going to get much warmer… it's winter, after all."
"Yes, I'm aware of that." What an idiot. There was no need to fill up the silence with empty conversation; Envy had enough screaming thoughts running on in their mind to drown out a crowd.
They had to get out… they had to get out of here but they couldn't…
And they couldn't beg her; their pride wouldn't allow it. And this girl was stubborn, far too stubborn to let them out regardless of whether she listened to Envy's pleas or otherwise.
"I'll make sure my father takes good care of you." Mei was looking at them again, again with that disgusting pity in her eyes. "You're bad, but I'll make sure that you're treated well. It must be so hard for you, after all…"
"Would you kindly shut up?" Envy wouldn't shout, as much as they wanted to; their voice would crack, or squeak, or do yet another thing that they didn't want and couldn't control, but they forced it to be as low and dangerous as they could possibly control it to be. They refused to look at her, though… because surely she was laughing at their futile attempt to control her actions.
"You have business with me, then, Crimson?"
It felt odd, somehow, hearing that nickname being used by anybody other than Envy. Kimblee was used to being called "Major Kimblee" in the past, and then simply "sir" or "The Crimson Lotus Alchemist," by those who were more in awe of him. Envy had been the only one to refer to him by that careless short-form of his title, and to hear the word in a voice so different from that smooth, laughing one of months past made him vaguely uncomfortable.
He didn't quite like the look in the Fuhrer's single eye; it was difficult to read, but almost seemed to carry a kind of amusement that he couldn't trace back to anything he'd yet said or done.
It was unsettling, but the feeling wasn't something that he was unused to. There was a family resemblance between Envy and Wrath in terms of demeanor. Kimblee had something to work with.
"Yes, actually." Kimblee said the words pleasantly, casually. There was no sense in making Wrath biased against him from the onset of their conversation, but at the same time, Kimblee wanted to assert his independence. "You see," he went on, "there's a certain job that I've left undone, and I'd like permission to go on and see it through."
"I assume you're referring to Dr. Marcoh, then?"
Kimblee frowned; Wrath had already anticipated his question, and the smirk beneath the Fuhrer's mustache was already a bad sign. "Yes, actually," he said calmly. "That was the reason that you originally had me released, wasn't it? You've had me doing so many other little jobs that we've forgotten the original reason that I was brought out."
"There are many things that we need to accomplish at the moment, Crimson Alchemist," said Wrath, leaning back in his chair, "and whatever I have you doing at the moment is what I want you to do. Marcoh's not a priority at this time. Of course, if we happened to come across him at some point, we could make use of him, but we can make do without him for now. Our focus is on keeping the government stable for the next few months, and I can't have one of our few field agents out gallivanting on some wild goose chase that is unlikely to lead anywhere."
"That's interesting," said Kimblee absently. He sat down in the chair opposite Wrath, looking off into the wall's corner. "Because your sibling made the Marcoh and Scar situation sound quite urgent in October."
Once again, Wrath's reaction caught him by surprise. The Fuhrer's chuckle was almost unnerving, its friendly, elderly timbre saturated with sinister overtones. "Ah, Envy; that's why you're concerned. Now I understand, although I'm surprised at your gullibility. You're rather easily fooled if you believe that you can take Envy seriously."
"Oh?" Kimblee said the word lightly, hiding his confusion. He'd hoped to use Envy's name as a means to make his proposal carry more weight, but it seemed to hurt his case instead. "Do elaborate, if you don't mind."
"If it'll make you stop your pining after your 'job,'" Wrath chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "You see, Envy's pride was deeply wounded three months ago; Marcoh disappeared under their watch, and, of course, their Father wasn't entirely pleased. Since we couldn't spare anyone else to go after the prisoner, Envy begged to have you let out to go after Marcoh and his rescuer in order to have them returned and to relieve their embarrassment." He raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Envy sees you through rose-coloured glass because of your work in the war, and they overestimated your abilities, so I'm not sure that you succeeded in what they wanted you for. But," he continued, shrugging, "you did some useful work after all, even if it wasn't what you were wanted for, so I suppose their judgement wasn't completely off."
Kimblee let his breath out slowly through pursed lips. Wrath's blunt words made his scarred-over pride ache again, (it really never would heal fully until Scar was a bleeding heap on the ground) but with careful management he would keep the wound from re-opening. "Well. I'm glad to know that I was of some use, at least, even if it was unintended," he said pleasantly.
Now that he considered Wrath's words further, perhaps Kimblee had unintentionally uncovered the reason why Envy hadn't bothered with him after their one meeting: he'd failed to assuage their embarrassment. The thought somehow dimmed the excitement that he'd previously felt at the thought of killing Scar; really, if the job was only a by-product of a mistake that Envy had made, then it was far less glamorous than a special job, hand-picked for him by an old friend from the war.
"To answer your question…" Wrath was looking him in the eye now, and Kimblee snapped to attention. "I'd say that Marcoh's not a priority, not for now. We can do everything that he does under our own power at this point; the man is so timid that he'll do nothing with the Stone but heal others. He's not going to do any harm."
"Scar, then?" Kimblee thought that he might as well push for what he really wanted. "You don't consider him a threat?"
"He hasn't killed any alchemists for three months." Wrath took a sip from his teacup, putting the vessel back down on the desk with an authoritative clink. "There's no need to go searching for him, since he's not an immediate threat. However." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. "While Marcoh can be allowed to escape, the Elric brothers cannot." His mouth quirked. "That's another failing of yours, isn't it?"
Ah.
Memories of that moment in the abandoned mining town floated to the front of Kimblee's mind, and he fought to push them back to where they belonged; there was no sense in dwelling on that moment of recklessness, half anger and half triumph, where Edward Elric had so nearly brought him low for the second time in less than a week. That explosion had sent Edward falling to who-knows-where, and Kimblee didn't want to remember it; it was a representation of a survival instinct that he shouldn't have had to use.
Of course, Edward was a survivor, and Kimblee was sure that he was still alive, and Alphonse too. But they had escaped from under his watch–yet another failing.
Must be quite a blow to the old ego, eh Kimblee?
Envy's nonchalant observation from their meeting months ago popped unbidden into Kimblee's mind. This time, he didn't bother trying to compartmentalize the thought; it was too much work to be worth the effort.
"…which is why I'm giving you permission to search for them." Wrath was looking at him, eye narrowed, and Kimblee straightened his posture, meeting his gaze.
"You can leave tomorrow and go wherever you see fit. I know how you're renowned as a tracker and I trust your judgement. But," continued Wrath, "I expect that you'll have both brothers back here in Central within the month. They've been neglecting their duties for far too long, don't you think?"
"Of course." Kimblee knew better than to push his luck. "Thank you for your time." He arose from his chair, leaving the still-smirking Wrath behind him as he made his way to the road outside of Central Command.
His meeting hadn't gone as expected, and Kimblee wasn't entirely satisfied by the outcome. But Wrath's insights on Envy were interesting, if remarkably derogatory. It always fascinated Kimblee to see what the different homunculi thought of each other; to see such legendary creatures fighting among themselves was something worth recording and studying the nuances of. But despite these interesting bits of trivia that he'd uncovered, and despite the permission to complete yet another unfinished job, the fact remained that Kimblee had new information, new leads towards Scar that he was discouraged from using.
There would be some way to use them; he knew that. But he simply had to be careful. Eight years ago, as a young man, he would have simply left a system that he disagreed with and forged his own path. But he knew by now that there was no crossing the homunculi, not without careful, meticulous planning and diplomacy.
The worst thing was that nobody seemed to care that Envy was missing.
The act of capturing Dr. Marcoh, which should have been a simple task of a few days' travel to the north and back home, had been stretched into a hellish, humiliating ordeal that had lasted weeks, now, and still nobody came to look for Envy.
They'd been travelling for what seemed like ages. Mei, after all, was only a little girl, and despite her abilities, she wasn't able to travel far in one day. They traveled slowly, almost at a crawl; it would have been easy for somebody to find them, but still no one came.
Why was nobody coming? Couldn't they see that Envy was missing? Didn't anybody care that Envy was gone?
Envy thought that Gluttony would have cared, at least–but he never went anywhere without an elder sibling's supervision, and without Envy at home to watch over him, he would hardly be allowed to leave Central to search for his wayward sibling.
Wrath was busy, and Greed… Greed wouldn't care. Neither would Pride; Envy's bitter feelings towards their eldest brother were mutual. And Sloth was working hard on the only thing he knew how to do, and Lust was… gone.
It… hurt to think that the one person who might have cared enough to come looking for Envy was only a pile of ash on the floor of Lab 13, no longer a living, breathing creature.
Although… if Kimblee had survived this long, he might come. Father might allow him to come–or any of the other officers who knew of the existence of the homunculi, of course. But Kimblee seemed likely; he was the youngest of the people in on the conspiracy, and the most suited for travelling, and, really, he would be perfect. Surely Father was sending him at this very moment.
The idea made Envy feel sick from relief and disgust mixed in equal parts.
Kimblee, their loyal supporter, their old "friend" from the war, who had only ever thought of Envy as something akin to a deity, would see them reduced from beauty to this ugly creature, and Envy almost couldn't bear the thought. But, Envy reminded themself, they really shouldn't feel that way. He was only human, Mei was only human, and all others who had witnessed them in this form were only human. Their opinions of Envy hardly mattered.
Somehow, however the thought of Kimblee feeling disgust towards Envy was disgusting in itself, and Envy couldn't rid themself of that pervading feeling.
But they would sort out their feelings when the time actually came. Kimblee would surely be along soon–of course, he would. The more that Envy thought of it, the more they were convinced that Kimblee was on his way. Father needed them, didn't he? So it was only expected that he would send Kimblee to fetch them. And of course Kimblee would want to come; he had always been so fascinated by Envy back in Ishval. Naturally he would jump at a chance to swoop down and lift Envy up when they were so low…
No, no, there was no reason to phrase it that way. Envy was so tired now, and so cold, and there was really no controlling their thoughts for now; they weren't to blame for anything strange that might pop into their mind at this moment…
"We're going to stop in New Optain tonight." Mei's words broke through Envy's thoughts. "I don't want you to get too cold."
As if she actually cared. But the thought of warmth was something to look forward to. "Yeah, okay," Envy muttered, and curled up into a tighter ball. They just had to wait. Someone would be along soon, Kimblee or otherwise, and they just had to be patient. They'd be back to normal soon enough, and this whole ordeal would fade back into the realm of almost-forgotten memories, along with the rest of Envy's nightmares.
A/N: Thank you so much to the people who read last time! :D I'm so glad you're enjoying it. I'm sorry for how slow the beginning still is; it feels like it's just crawling along to me, but I do want to give enough background. The chapters are flowing fairly easily for me at the moment, so I'm trying to take advantage of that. It's funny how much difficulty I'm actually having writing Envy; they used to be the easier of the two for me to write, but now it's Kimblee who's easier by far. I think it's because Envy's in such a different situation than is usual for them, and they're missing the carelessness and superior attitude that I'm used to dealing with.
Again, thank you so much; I'm very happy that people are taking the time to read this!
