Why is it that, after falling in love with a character, I usually write stories that torture him? These days when I read FMA, I often look at Ed's face and think, "Gosh, Edward. I had you raped." I feel the need to say "sorry" out loud to a goddamned manga page.

I feel that this story is not so much about Fullmetal Alchemist as it is merely about pain.

Chapter 2

Ed knew that he must be walking, because the scenery around him kept scrolling along, but he was barely aware of the motion of his legs. He was barely aware of anything at all. The crowds seemed silent around him. He looked at his path without really seeing it. The only thing he could really feel was a steady ache under his skin, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

He ended up going to the hotel where he and Alphonse were staying. As soon as he entered their room, he was assaulted by an overwhelming sense of defilement. He all but ran into the bathroom, throwing off his clothes and getting in the shower without waiting for the water to warm up. When it did become hot, it was scalding, but he didn't care about that either. Filth was in his blood. It was coating his bones. It was dirtying the whole inside of his body and he was desperate to get it out.

Over an hour passed before the revulsion abated just enough for him to stop the water. As he dried himself with a towel, he saw that his skin had turned red with heat and his fevered attempt to clean it. He left the bathroom and exhaustion instantly fell upon him. As he tottered toward the bed, he wondered how long he was going to be at the mercy of these lurching emotions that hit him one after the other. He wondered if he would always feel as insane as he did now.

He didn't have the energy to think about it. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

(Segment Break)

"Brother?"

He moaned and opened his eyes just a crack. Al was kneeling next to the bed, his metallic face level with Ed's own. Behind Al was the window, through which Ed could see a glowing orange sunset.

"What happened to you?" Al asked.

"Huh?" Ed felt disoriented. Where was he? What was he doing?

"You went out to lunch and didn't come back, brother."

"Oh." The memories were rushing back to him now. They were giving him a stabbing headache. "I started to feel sick while I was eating, so I decided to come by here and rest a little. I didn't mean to sleep so long."

Al's face was unchanging as usual, but Ed could tell intuitively that he was concerned. "You don't look or sound well at all. Are you still tired?"

"Yeah."

"Go back to sleep, then. Sorry for waking you up."

"No problem." Ed closed his eyes and quickly returned to oblivion.

He knew he should've felt starving when he woke up the next morning, but he didn't. He ate breakfast anyway, since skipping another meal seemed like a bad idea. Al sat at the table with him, watching him listlessly chew his food. "Are you sure you want to go out today, Ed?"

"I'm fine. We're just sitting in the library and reading. That's hardly a strenuous activity."

Ed abruptly recalled that if they used their usual route to go to the library, they would pass Lota's house. "Hey, why don't we take the long way today? It's a beautiful day for walking."

Al glanced out the window. It was raining. "If you say so."

"Great. Long way it is." But Ed was already wondering what excuse he'd use on the trip back, not to mention tomorrow and the day after.

(Segment Break)

I hate this, Ed thought. I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate myself.

Just an hour ago he'd woken up in a trance, but now all his senses were on a painful high alert. Every sound made him look up from his book and glance frantically around the room. No matter how harshly he berated himself for sensing danger when there wasn't any, it couldn't stop his heart from racing.

"Brother?"

A chill ran down Ed's spine. "What – oh, Al. What's up?"

"You look even worse now than you did at breakfast," Al said accusingly. "Let me take you back to the hotel. It's clear you need to rest today."

Ed had scarcely read a sentence of the book he was holding. He couldn't stand the thought of wasting the day without getting any research done. On the other hand, staying where he was and feeling the rise of his own irrational fear wasn't a bright prospect either.

He was still on the fence about the decision when a bit of movement caught his eye. He noticed a man standing across the room, wandering from one bookshelf to another. Ed stumbled backward, feeling sick. His knees weakened but his hands reflexively pressed together. He was a second away from transmuting his arm to a blade before he realized that the man across the room was a complete stranger. He didn't even look like Lota.

"Ed? Are you still there?" Al's voice seemed to come from miles away.

Ed stared at the floor as he worked to calm himself. He was promptly burnt by shame when he saw he was shaking. This perfectly mundane sight had reduced a state alchemist to a defensive child, liable to lash out but terrified all the same. To Ed, this was another indication that he'd truly lost his mind.

He turned to Al. "Sure," he said hastily. "Let's go back."

(Segment Break)

Returning to the hotel brought Ed a welcome sense of relief. Not as much as he would've liked, but at this point he would take what he could get. It wasn't based on any particular set of logic, but he felt safer in this locked room, lying underneath the covers of a prim white bed.

Sleep didn't come as easily as it had the night before. Ed must have lain there counting his breaths for hours before unconsciousness finally deigned to reach down and claim him. It didn't turn out to be the peaceful oblivion he wanted, either. Sleep was cruel to him this time.

He dreamed he was walking down a wide dirt path, except the dirt was crisp white instead of brown. Little green sprouts intermittently flanked the path on both sides. They were the only sign of life besides Ed himself; the area was devoid of other people. He had no idea where he was going. He just knew that something compelled him to move forward.

He walked for what seemed an interminable amount of time before he noticed that the dirt path wasn't white anymore. It was turning grey. He wanted to stop then but his feet were moving independently of his mind. The path continued to darken until he had trouble distinguishing it from his black shoes. The surrounding sprouts withered and died before his eyes. Finally, his feet stopped walking and a small cubic house appeared in front of him. His hand knocked on the front door. Only then did he realize how numb he felt inside.

Franz Lota answered the door, a smile lifting his lips when he saw who was visiting. "Edward. I was hoping you'd come back."

Something extremely wrong was about to happen. Ed could see that, but he was unable to say a word. His lips were frozen shut. His body was operating entirely on its own.

Lota put an arm around Ed's shoulders and swept him into the house. "No need for words," the man said fondly as he closed the door. "I know why you're here."

Ed didn't.

Lota raised his hand and touched Ed's face. As soon as he did, the room around them vanished and was replaced by different walls. They stood in a bedroom now. Lota leaned forward and kissed the boy on the lips. Something like disgust registered dimly in Ed's mind, but the numbness overshadowed it.

He stood motionless as Lota undressed him. When they lay down in the bed together, he allowed the man to do whatever he pleased. Ed didn't enjoy the fevered caresses, but his body wouldn't shy away from them either. He remained limp as a rag doll, his heart stone cold.

When Ed awoke from this dream, the sun was setting and his stomach was turning. He went to check the rest of the hotel room, calling Al's name. There was no response. Once satisfied that he was alone, Ed headed to the bathroom and proceeded to violently throw up.