Pain.

It was all his mind could process, his body shaking despite his every attempt to keep it still. It was overwhelming, the kind of dull ache that encompassed every single cell in his body, assaulting every nerve ending and drawing a grimace across his sorry excuse for a face.

"Good morning, Envy."

Freezing, the homunculus forced his eyes open, doing his best to take in the situation without allowing his gaze to wander over his shoulder. He would never admit it, but he was too terrified to even try and meet the cold, uncaring eyes of his captor.

Please, not again… not again…

"Do you realize where you are?" Mustang asked, his voice eternally monotonous.

Envy slowly looked around the room, already knowing what he would find but allowing himself the luxury of paralyzing terror anyways. He trembled, every white line drawn across the floor bringing a new wave of panic over his already frantic mind.

It's a human transmutation circle.

Of course. Envy had a Philosopher's Stone at his core, and if they killed him, it would turn to useless dust. It only made sense that when Envy was at his weakest, they would use his power to get back what alchemy had taken away from them.

"Do you understand what's going to happen to you?"

Envy forced away a shudder and gave a single nod as response.

"Alphonse Elric, step into the transmutation circle."

Tightening his jaw, Envy kept his gaze glued to his feet, examining the restraints that kept him strapped to the chair in the center of the monstrous diagram. He was still covered in blood and burns, his body refusing to regenerate any more than it had to, and with every quaking breath, his lungs burned anew.

I can't do this.

Panic closed his throat and pounded on his body from the inside, both his chest and his head throbbing angrily in distress. He shook, despite every attempt to keep himself still, he shook like a dying leaf on a crisp autumn wind.

I can't do this. I can't, I can't, I can't…

Alphonse sat down across from him, and then the sound of hands clapping together rang out through the empty room.

I can't do this! Please, I can't! I can't! Please!

The silent screams went unheeded, blue lightning surging along the lines of the circle and rapidly expanding until the alchemist and the homunculus were enveloped in a shroud of white light.

"I'm sorry," Alphonse whispered, his voice as gentle and sincere as ever. "But I need my body back, and this is the best way to ensure you can't hurt anyone."

There was a small part of Envy, buried somewhere in the back of his consciousness, that was still trying to figure out the situation and treat it with a cold and calculating logic. That part of him realized that he wasn't just being tortured for sport, but rather, the humans were ensuring he could never escape or harm anyone they cared about ever again.

But that part of his mind was buried beneath a tsunami of white-hot pain, and in the subsequent shrieks of excruciation, it got no chance to speak.

Help! Somebody, help me! Greed… Lust… Gluttony… somebody, please! Please, I can't, I can't, it hurts, please, somebody help me, please… please… please…


It went on for hours. Envy would wake up in the circle, covered in a bit more blood than the last time he passed out, racked with pain and struggling to keep himself silent. Someone else would get in the circle—Havoc, Marcoh, Edward—and Envy would scream and writhe until he passed out. He would wake up again, wonder why his body wouldn't just let him die, and then he would see the face of someone new—Izumi, Lan Fan—before losing himself to a flood of unbearable pain all over again.

Then the faces became unfamiliar. People who had been wounded on the Promised Day, Ishvalans and Amestrians who were wounded in the Civil War, and just about anybody else who didn't mind making the source of all their problems suffer in order to get back what had been taken from them. Envy lost the ability to determine one trip through the gate from another, his body slowly breaking down as handfuls became dozens, dozens became hundreds, and hundreds became half of a thousand.

No… no… no… no… no… no…

His mind couldn't process anything other than that one word, static replacing any trace of coherent thought he had once possessed. Blood fell in an endless stream from his mouth, where his Philosopher's Stone throbbed madly, soaking his clothing and dripping down to join the pool around his chair.

Tak. Tak. Tak. Tak. Tak. Tak.

Shoes struck the floor one after the other, the soft footsteps continuing until blue pants and black boots entered the weakened captive's line of vision.

"Envy, look at me."

Envy panted, letting out a whine. He physically couldn't lift his head, and even if he could, he couldn't look into those eyes without breaking.

"Envy." Mustang didn't sound pleased with the defiance, and a second later, he had grasped the killer's chin in an unrelenting hold. "I would not advise disobedience."

Envy couldn't suppress the whimper when his head was pulled up, his blood running cold from the sheer volume of ice and hatred in the eyes that awaited him.

"Does it hurt?"

Envy barely managed a nod, stomach churning at the faint glimmer of satisfaction he saw in the colonel's eyes.

"Do you know what's going to happen now that we're done with you?"

Envy tried to speak, but his voice failed him. He knew exactly what they were going to do to him, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He had never faced the aspect of death, let alone a death that was as slow and painful as the one he knew they were planning for him.

"Well?" Mustang glared at him. "I'm waiting, dog."

Envy snapped. He ground his teeth together, quiet sobs forcing their way up his throat as his eyes filled with tears, the saltwater burning tracks down his cheeks between the cuts and bruises. He sobbed quietly, quivering beneath the colonel's stare, sucking air between his teeth as he strained not to lose himself completely. But it was pointless, and the cries continued to grow in strength and volume until he was wailing loudly, unable to stop himself from expressing emotions he had always been so impervious to.

Grief. Anguish. Loneliness. Fear.

Mustang didn't say a word, releasing the bruised chin and kneeling down on the ground. He untied the straps around Envy's ankles and then stood back up, maneuvering the bound hands up and over the back of the chair.

"Edward, bring me a blanket. Lieutenant, go start the car."

Envy felt himself being lowered back onto the chair, his senses disintegrating as he lost himself to the flood of horror had had managed to keep at bay up until that moment. It hurt to move, to think, to breathe, to speak—even crying, which brought him some semblance of relief, also racked his chest and throat with a new kind of ache.

"Here." It was Edward, his voice followed by a pregnant pause and a quiet sigh. "He looks miserable."

"That was the point," was the only response Mustang offered.

Envy convulsed as the blanket was draped around him, another piteous cry wrenching its way out of his mouth. No, no, no, no, no, no, no...

Mustang leaned down, sliding one arm around the homunculus' waist and wrapping the other around his legs. Heedless to the damage coating the surface of Envy's skin, he lifted the creature into his arms and began walking towards the exit.

"Edward, I expect to see you and Alphonse in my office first thing tomorrow. We have some matters to discuss, you understand."

Envy coughed up another mouthful of blood, turning his head and trying to keep his body as far away from Mustang as he could. It was difficult, given the fact that the colonel was carrying him, but that didn't stop him from trying.

No, no, no, no, no, no…

Mustang stepped out of the building and approached the running car, opening the back door and lowering Envy onto the seat. Envy didn't move an inch, staying half-curled into a ball with his hands still extended as though he were still prepared to grab onto the colonel's shirt if necessary.

No, no, no, no…

"Where would you like to go, sir?" Riza's voice came from the driver's seat, and Envy had to assume that she was in control of the vehicle.

"Home, and step on it." Mustang's voice came from the same general area, which probably meant he was sitting in the passenger seat.

He doesn't have to watch the road. He'll be watching me instead. It was the first sensible thought he'd had in hours, but it only served to send him into another frenzied chant. No, no, no, no, no…

Envy wheezed and gasped, the inside of the car blurring together until he couldn't tell up from down or front from back anymore. He didn't know where he was, where Riza was, where Mustang was. Everything was fading, and for a moment, he thought it was finally coming to an end.

"Envy, you do not have permission to die. If you die, I will create a Philosopher's Stone just to bring you back, and then I will repeat tonight's process all over again so I can kill you the way I see fit. Do you understand me?"

Envy gasped, choking down a sob at the thought of going through the past several hours again. "Y-yes… I unh… nhh…" His lips went still, the words dying on his lips.

"Good."

Envy honestly didn't know how long it took to get to their destination. Between the blood loss, fits of carsickness, and the few times he passed out during the trip, it could have been anywhere between ten minutes and an hour, and Envy would have been none the wiser.

Eventually, though, the car came to a stop, and Envy realized they must have gotten where they wanted to go. He didn't remember where Mustang had told his subordinate to drive, or what he had been told would happen if he died. All he could think about was the pain he was in at that exact moment.

"Envy, hold on to me."

Envy slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the colonel and trying to figure out what was being asked of him. Grunting, he threw his arms haphazardly around the officer's neck, the contact sending sparks up and down his arms.

"Lieutenant, is everything ready upstairs?" Mustang asked, pulling the disheveled homunculus out of the vehicle and making his way towards the large mansion.

Envy heard no reply and had to assume she either nodded or shook her head.

No… what else could he possibly want? I can't… I can't do this anymore… I can't take any more of this… I can't… I can't…

Dropping his head against the uniformed shoulder, he let out a choked sob, physically feeling the fight drain out of his body. Assuming, of course, that there had been any such fight left in him at that time, which he doubted.

I can't… I can't… I can't…

Mustang opened the front door and carried Envy over the threshold, immediately making his way to the staircase on the left and climbing up to the second story. Then it was a quick trip down the hall and through a door on the left, which lead to a bedroom of sorts. From there, he entered a small bathroom, the tub already filled with steaming water.

Please… please, no, please… please… no, no, no…

Envy started to struggle, despite the fact that he knew this would earn him further punishment, frantically trying to pull himself out of the colonel's arms.

"Enough." Mustang glared down at him. "Be still, or I will give you a real reason to run."

Envy paid him no mind, still squirming and kicking against the hold. The way he saw it, he was either going to be submerged in scalding hot water or punished for his resistance in some other unspeakable way. What did he have to lose by earning himself a different kind of torture? It would all hurt the same.

"Envy!"

Envy twisted himself this way and that, biting down on the hand that had been moving up to his collar. Mustang cursed loudly, dropping the homunculus to the floor and grabbing a fistful of the matted hair.

"Drop it, Envy. Drop it, now."

Envy felt a chill go down his spine, but he couldn't let go. He had no plan, but he knew he couldn't let go. He bit down harder, screwing his eyes shut and ignoring the fact that his hair was about to come out in clumps.

Blood splashed into his mouth, and he heard Mustang grunting in pain above him. It brought him little satisfaction—he was certain the colonel would gladly return the pain tenfold as soon as he had the chance—but it did spark a bit of hope.

"Lieutenant, he's biting!"

That hope was dashed, and Envy's blood ran cold, his heart jumping up into his throat as he remembered they were not alone.

Hawkeye responded almost immediately, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "Sir."

He knew I would try to fight him. He was waiting for it.

Mustang turned towards the doorway, still pulling on Envy's hair with all his might. "Do you have it?"

Hawkeye hummed in response.

"Good. Help me get him off of my hand."

Envy thrashed wildly, burying his teeth as far into the man's hand as he possibly could, but it was no use. Mustang kept a firm hold on his hair, pulling back while Hawkeye came from behind and placed one hand on his forehead, the other gripping his chin and forcing his jaw apart.

Mustang withdrew his hand immediately, unleashing a slew of profanities at the subsequent pain, and a stiff, rubbery rod was shoved between Envy's teeth in its place. The prisoner's hair was released, and then the bit was pulled tightly into his mouth, Mustang's hands appearing in his limited field of view a moment later.

"I was really hoping we wouldn't need to use this." Mustang moved towards Envy's head, and before the young homunculus could process what was happening, the colonel was pressing a muzzle against his face. "It only complicates things."

Envy screamed—from fear or pain, he honestly didn't know anymore—shaking his head in a desperate attempt to remove the restraints, but neither soldier paid him any mind. Hawkeye pulled the straps tight, buckling every one before tugging them each in turn.

"It's secure," she reported, stepping away from the duo on the floor and giving her superior a sideways glance. "You should treat your hand."

Mustang shook his head, looking down at the wound he had haphazardly wrapped in his handkerchief. "I'll deal with it later. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Saluting, the blonde turned away and left the room, shutting the door behind her and leaving the two alone once again.

Mustang let out a sigh and pushed Envy face-first into the floor, pushing his knee into the center of the bruised back. He shifted his weight, and the sound of a switchblade hit the homunculus' ears.

No… I can't take anymore… please, I can't take anymore… it hurts…

Mustang didn't cut him, but rather, he started to work the knife through the tight, leather clothing that had kept the captive marginally protected up until that point.

Envy whimpered, struggling to breathe through his congested nose as he was stripped down to nothing, exposed and helpless before the one man who hated him the most.

Please… please… please…

He didn't know what else to think.

Please… please… please…

He couldn't say he was sorry. It wasn't in his nature.

Envy let out another cry as he was lifted up and over the edge of the tub, his body arching in the alchemist's arms.

Please no, please no, please no, please no, please—

His backside touched the water, and the noise that came from his mouth was not, in any way, shape, or form, human. He shrieked from behind the muzzle, kicking his legs out and pulling against the handcuffs until his wrists bled.

"Envy, just c—" Mustang lifted him away from the water, stumbling backwards slightly. "Envy, calm down. You need to calm down."

Envy heard him, but not a single word registered in his clouded mind.

"Envy," Mustang muttered, lowering the struggling boy back to the ground and grabbing the underside of the muzzle. "Envy, stop it. Now."

Shuddering, the captive finally stilled, laying in the colonel's arms and staring up at him with wide, horror-stricken eyes.

"We'll wait until the water gets cooler." Mustang shifted the sin onto his side and released him entirely, resting a hand on his head to remind him that he was still in complete control of the situation.

Why? Envy shook, chest heaving as he dragged more air down into his lungs. Why would he wait? It won't kill me, so it's not as if he's dragging out the torture by waiting. Or… or is he?

"Envy, take a deep breath."

Envy twitched, trying and failing to do as he was told, chewing on the gag and moaning discontinuously as his fear began to escalate. His knees curled up towards his chest, his shoulders grinding and popping at the uncomfortable position they had been forced into.

Mustang sighed, getting to his feet and walking over to the door, sticking his head out and talking to his trusty subordinate. Envy couldn't hear a word that was said, but when Mustang turned around a few moments later, he had a new kind of restraint in his hands.

"Mmph!" Envy threw himself as far away from the man as he could, but that only served to smack his head into the side of the tub. "Mm… mm…" He panted and wheezed, sickened by the mess of saliva that had spread all across his mouth, pressed to his skin by the coarse leather.

Mustang only shook his head, crouching down and strapping a padded restraint onto the already bound wrists. He then pulled the other cuff around the front and attached it to the wrist on the other side, fishing a key from his pocket and removing the harsher, metal handcuffs. Then he took the knot in one hand and the strap in the other, pulling until Envy's wrists were pressed tightly to each other in front of him.

"Better?" Mustang asked, nodding his head in the direction of the hands that were now more comfortably bound in front of their owner.

Envy stared for a solid minute and a half before offering a hesitant nod.

"Good." He continued to hold the strap, treating the leather like a leash and giving it a tug every once in a while just to make sure Envy was still aware of his position. "See? I'm not completely unreasonable."

Envy said nothing, staring at the man in blue, still waiting for the boot to drop. Mustang allowed him to stay silent, and he chose to keep himself quiet as well, leaving Envy's haggard breathing as the only thing breaking the stillness.

It was several minutes before things started happening again, the first movement being that of Mustang extending his hand to feel the temperature of the water. Then he hummed to himself and began rolling up his sleeves, the implications of his actions sending Envy into another frenzied struggle.

"Envy," the soldier snapped, quickly losing whatever patience he may have had. "If you don't stop struggling, I will beat you until you are physically incapable of moving. Do you understand me?"

Envy went completely still, nodding his head with a pitiable whine.

Mustang let out a heavy sigh and crouched down, pulling the homunculus into his arms and then lowering him into the warm water. Envy couldn't suppress a whimper as his blistered skin touched the surface, the reduced heat doing little to soothe the sensitive burns.

Mustang stood up and reached towards the ceiling, seizing what appeared to be a hook and tying the leather rope around it. With two, sharp tugs, Envy was pulled up to his knees and secured there.

Looking up at the hook, Envy quivered again, cursing himself for his inability to shun the gentler gestures. If he had only kept in mind the pain he had been put through—kept in mind the fact that the reason he hurt so much was standing right in front of him—then perhaps he could have kept his guard up, even when he was treated with marginal kindness.

Instead, he had begun to feel hopeful. He didn't even recognize the feeling as such until he felt it die, but that was exactly what he had done. He had begun to hope that maybe he was going to be shown some mercy, but that notion was killed the second his arms were stretched over his head, the vulnerable position sending a shudder through him.

Mustang either didn't notice or didn't care, grabbing a washcloth and dipping it into the water without so much as a sideways glance to acknowledge his prisoner's fear. Moving carefully, the colonel began to run the warm cloth over the battered body, clearing away the mess and exposing the flesh underneath.

Envy watched him closely, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the ache in his jaw. Every time Mustang touched him, it sent a wave of painful sparks shooting across the surface of his skin, but it didn't look like Mustang was intentionally hurting him. It was simply an unavoidable part of being burned and bruised and beaten.

But Mustang wasn't intentionally hurting him.

"You shouldn't be surprised." It was as if the colonel could read his mind. "Regardless of what I would like to do to you, I have subordinates and allies who are considerably more soft-hearted than myself. I can't risk losing their trust and respect for the sake of revenge."

Envy swallowed thickly, trying not to move away when the military man began to clean his legs, where pieces of his skin were still missing from his impact with the road hours earlier. He had no idea what he had done to deserve sympathy from the members of Mustang's team, but he was thankful for it. He could only imagine where he would be if they had allowed their leader to completely fulfill his fantasies.

"Stop it." Mustang glared up at him. "Stop moving."

Envy tensed, staying as still as possible.

"This is your own fault, you know that, right? If you had just surrendered instead of running like a coward, I wouldn't have had to chase you down." Mustang shook his head, irritated. "Idiot."

For a fraction of a second, Envy's sin nature took over. How dare this human look down on him and call him a coward? How dare he talk about the homunculus as though he were a nuisance and a waste of time? How dare he even look at the immortal without fear in his eyes?

But that quickly shattered.

"Ho? Did that make you angry?"

Envy shook his head frantically, eyes wide.

Mustang snorted. "Do you really think you have anything to gain by lying to me?" He reached out, slapping one of the burns stretched across Envy's stomach with an open palm. "I won't tolerate it."

Envy let out a muffled cry, pulling against the restraints in an attempt to fold his arms over his stomach.

"Now." Mustang continued to wash the other down as though there had been no assault. "Did my words make you angry?"

Envy nodded his head shakily, staring down at the red-tinted bathwater.

"But you stopped yourself." Mustang glanced up at him. "Consciously?"

Envy offered another quick nod, unsure as to where the conversation was going.

"Hmm." Mustang set the rag aside and stood up, putting his hands on his hips and staring the other down. "If I take the muzzle off, are you going to bite me again?"

Envy shook his head immediately, desperately wanting his face to be freed from the leather trap. I won't bite. Please, take it off.

Mustang gave him a long, hard stare and then reached out, slowly unbuckling the straps and keeping an eye out for any suspicious movements. One, two, three, four, and the muzzle fell off into the colonel's hands.

Envy felt a heat creeping up his cheeks as his spit dripped into the water below, the slimy substance smeared heavily across his mouth, chin, and cheeks.

Mustang didn't seem to notice, though, and he proceeded to reach around and unbuckle the strap that had been keeping the bit pulled securely between Envy's teeth. Envy took a deep, rasping breath, savoring the sensation of air rushing down his open maw and into his chest.

It feels so good.

Mustang approached him and dipped a cup into the water, lifting it up and pouring the contents over Envy's head. He did this a few more times and then began to rub soap into the filthy, matted strands of jet black hair.

Envy screwed his eyes shut, very aware that he wouldn't be able to wipe away any soap or water, and kept his face to the bottom of the tub. He sat still while Mustang combed through the mess, getting the tangles down to a certain point and then cutting off the rest with his pocketknife.

"That will have to do for now." Mustang stood up and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. "You can get to your feet, or I can drag you up. It's your choice."

Envy swallowed thickly, trying to assess the situation and quickly coming to the conclusion that, no matter how difficult, he had to at least try and meet Mustang's demands.

So, with no small amount of effort, he pushed himself up higher on his knees. He gripped what little slack his restraints offered and pulled himself up to his feet, holding on for dear life as the room started to tilt.

Mustang wasted no time in toweling the young homunculus down and grabbing him underneath his arms. "Step out of the tub."

Envy followed the order, although a bit clumsily, his knees rejecting the strain they were being forced to endure.

"Hold on." Mustang reached above his head and removed the straps from the hook, balling it up in his fist and moving towards the door. "Come along."

Envy hesitated, glancing down at his quaking, naked body and wondering whether or not Hawkeye was still standing outside the door. In the end, though, he really didn't have a choice, so he shuffled out of the room behind his captor.

"Lay down on the bed." Mustang gestured to the fairly large mattress. "Be quick about it."

Envy swallowed hard and then placed his bound hands on the surface, crawling up with a bit of difficulty and laying down in the middle. He felt a strap running underneath his lower back and tried not to think about it, telling himself it was the cold air biting his damp skin that make him shiver.

Mustang once again acted as though he was completely unaware of Envy's no-so-subtle fear. He waved a hand out behind him, and Hawkeye was by his side in seconds. "Tie down the other one for me."

"Yes, sir."

Mustang undid the handcuffs he had used in the shower and grabbed Envy's left wrist, pulling it away from the prone body and fastening it to the strap on the bed. Hawkeye did the same with his right arm and then took a step back, standing at attention and waiting for further orders.

Getting to his feet, Mustang approached the small dresser in the room, opening it up and pulling out a black cloth. Giving the piece a flick to open it up, he turned back towards the bed, and Envy realized it was actually a pair of boxers.

"Give me your feet." Mustang kept his voice cold and clinical, but at the same time, he was careful to avoid the large patches where the skin was exceptionally damaged as he pulled the boxers onto Envy's hips. "Lieutenant, I trust that I can leave the rest to you?"

"Yes, sir." She stared dead ahead, her face completely blank.

They're both unreadable.

Envy jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his ankle, the colonel still not quite ready to leave. He watched as the ruler placed his feet in restraints similar to the ones holding his hands.

This is like the beds they used to use when… Envy paled, glancing around the room in search of anything that resembled medical equipment. They're going to dissect me. They're going to experiment on me like we experimented on the Ishvalans.

"I'll leave this to you, then." Mustang grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped his hands clean, giving Hawkeye a final nod of approval before stepping out.

Envy turned to look at Hawkeye, waiting to see what would happen next. She was one of the soldiers who couldn't bear what they'd done in Ishval. Mustang was one of those, too… and Hughes… He froze, every muscle in his body turning to stone. Hughes. Oh—Oh, no. Hughes. I forgot about Hughes.

Hawkeye allowed her brow to crease ever-so-slightly, and given what he knew about her poker face, he imagined she did it on purpose to let him know she pitied him.

You filthy little wretch… how dare you? Don't you dare look down on me!

Once again, his anger was quelled when he remembered the situation he was in, her movement catching his attention and sending another wave of tremors through him.

"Wh—" He swallowed, forcing his voice to come out solidly. "What are you going to do?"

Hawkeye spared him a brief glance, grabbing a box from on top of the dresser and placing it on the bed. She opened it up and pulled out a roll of bandages with a quiet reply. "I am dressing your wounds, and then I will be turning out the lights and locking the door so you can sleep."

Envy watched her carefully, hissing in pain as the first bandage came down on one of the gaping wounds on his legs. It felt similar to the situation in the bathroom—she was hurting him, but it wasn't intentional, although he didn't know why—and he couldn't help but feel his anxiety swell.

They're trying to get me to relax. They're trying to get me to lower my guard.

Hawkeye said nothing through the entire ordeal, working her way quickly and efficiently up his body. His legs had the worst injuries, by far, but his arms weren't exactly in peak condition, either. His back was bruised and scraped raw from the many times he had slammed into the ground, but he knew she wouldn't risk taking off his restraints to reach those wounds.

"Open your mouth."

Envy hesitated, but slowly did as he was told.

Hawkeye stared down at him for a moment or two, frowning. "Should I be able to see your Philosopher's Stone?"

Envy swallowed and shook his head, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to feel the smooth surface for himself. It hurts. He watched her with narrowed eyes, clenching his jaw. Don't touch it. It hurts.

Hawkeye stared down at him, impassive as ever, but she didn't push him to open his mouth. Instead, she began to wipe an antiseptic solution over the cuts on his face.

Envy hissed, clenching his fists and pulling against the restrains if only to give his mind and body something else to focus on. She kept going, unhindered by his attempt at movement, the cloth coming down on the broken skin time and time again.

It moved away, and Envy opened his eyes, surprised to find Hawkeye leaning over him with her mouth forming an O. It didn't take him long to realize she was blowing on him, a cool sensation crawling over the skin and soothing the sting.

Stop trying to trick me.

She dabbed it and blew on it a few more times before straightening up and looking him over. Apparently, she was satisfied with her work, because she quickly packed up the remaining medical supplies and walked to the door.

I should sleep. I really should. I can't…

"Are you cold?"

Envy inhaled sharply. He was cold, although it was a worry he hadn't the notion to give any attention to, but he wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea to admit it.

Mustang hurt me when I lied.

Envy wet his lips. "Yes."

Hawkeye put the bag down and walked back across the room, opening the same drawer his boxers had come from and pulling out a blanket. With a few flicks, it was unfolded, and she draped it over the prone form on the bed.

Envy looked down at himself, twisting his lips.

Stop trying to trick me. Stop trying to trick me. I'm not an idiot. Don't look down on me! Don't try to trick me! How stupid do you think I am? Huh? Just because you overpowered me physically, it doesn't mean a thing about my mind. Don't look down on me. Don't you dare look down on me!

He was so angry he barely noticed Hawkeye turning off the lights and leaving him alone in the dark.