"Envy, for the last time, be still."

Sighing, the homunculus tried to do as he was told, inhaling deeply and letting out a heavy sigh. Mustang shook his head disapprovingly, pulling the bandage a little tighter around his torso and going over the shoulder one last time before tucking the end. Envy fidgeted as soon as Mustang's hands were gone, the sensation unfamiliar and somewhat itchy.

"You might as well get used to them, especially if you intend to fight every single interrogation with that much ferocity." Mustang closed the first aid kit and carried it over to the cupboard, tucking it away. "Biting me was stupid, but biting someone who gets paid to cause you pain is on an entirely superior level of idiocy."

Envy glared at him but didn't say a word, not wanting to push his luck and wind up proving the colonel's own point. Again.

"Do you need food?"

Envy blinked. Huh?

"It's a simple question. Do you need food?"

Envy looked down at himself, considering the idea. He couldn't recall the last time he had eaten, simply because he had never needed food to survive before, but the thought of food had been less than appealing over the past twenty-four hours. His pain had been so constant and intense that, when he actually took the time to focus on anything but survival, nausea was the only thing his stomach wanted to tell him about.

"I don't know," he whispered, keeping his gaze beneath the colonel's waist.

He could practically hear the raised eyebrow in the officer's reply.

"Well, that isn't very helpful." Mustang stepped away from him, walking over to the counter and speaking over the sound of the items he was moving around. "I'll get you something small, and if you start to eat it and decide you can't, then you can't."

Envy nodded, saying nothing and continuing to stare down at the cuffed hands in his lap, idly picking at the fibers of his pants. His body was still in a considerable amount of pain, but he wasn't as disoriented as he had been in the hospital, which was marginally comforting.

I want to go back to bed.

Unfortunately, he didn't want to go to bed enough to ask Mustang for permission, so he opted for lowering his head onto the table and closing his eyes instead. The cool surface of the wood felt good against his face, particularly the long line of stitches on his left cheek, and he allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"You called that… thing… your father. Were you truly like a family?"

Envy slowly lifted his head, a hum rising in his throat as he questioned the nature of the colonel's inquiry. "Hmm?"

"Were you like a family?" the colonel repeated, his tone irritated but quickly fading into something resembling softness. "Did you think of each other as brothers and sisters, or were those just names you used to describe each other?"

Envy wet his lips, clenching and unclenching his fists in his lap. "It was… different for each of us. Some were closer than others, and some weren't close at all." He paused, running his tongue over his lips again. "Your Fuhrer was hardly a member of the family, if that's what you're wondering."

Mustang shook his head, turning around with a small bowl in his hands and approaching the downtrodden homunculus at his table. "No. That wasn't why I asked."

Envy blinked, opening his mouth. "Wh…" The question died on his lips, tension seizing his shoulders as he realized he had almost slipped into a conversation with the man. This is just a new kind of interrogation. I should tell him as little as possible and refrain from engaging.

Mustang extended the bowl towards the younger male, sliding it onto his lap beneath his hands and taking a seat to his left. "They're apple slices. Try them, and we'll see how they settle in your stomach."

Envy frowned at the little red and white wedges, tilting his head to the side and lifting the dish to his nose with a sniff. It looks weird. But he set the bowl back down and grabbed one of the pieces, taking a bite and humming softly at the, surprisingly not terrible, taste and texture. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Envy had never made it a point to learn about human cuisine, and the only time he had eaten human food was when humanity seemed to really, really love it. Because, of course, if someone else was happy to have a treat, he wanted that same treat for himself. Typically, this brought him to various kinds of alcohol, some rare teas, desserts, and occasionally imported fruits. He had never tried an… appel… before. It always looked like commoners' food to him.

"You were calling for them."

Envy froze, looking up from the meal he had been contemplating and waiting for the colonel to continue.

"It was mostly for Greed and Lust, but you called for everyone at one time or another. Or, at least, that's what I've been told." Mustang crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms over his chest, clearly expecting some sort of response.

"I… don't remember that." Envy took another bite, if only so he would have an excuse to keep quiet, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks.

"That doesn't really matter. You did it whether you remember it or not. I want to know why?"

Envy glared, the reaction coming so instinctively there wasn't time enough to stop it. "Why? Why do you think?" His cheeks grew a little warmer, his hands shaking in his lap, given away by the rattling cuffs around his wrists.

"If I knew why, do you think I would be asking?" was the colonel's sharp response, his eyes as stony as ever.

"Because I was in agony, and I couldn't think of anyone else who would be willing to help." Envy realized as soon as he spoke that he revealed more than he intended, but it wasn't as if Mustang didn't already know that the homunculus was completely alone and universally hated, so he continued. "Were you disappointed because I didn't succumb to some kind of desperate loneliness and scream for a nameless hero instead?"

Envy processed the sound of Mustang's open palm striking his cheek before he actually felt the pain, his teeth coming together and grinding as his body temperature continued to rise. Mustang didn't say anything at first, allowing the punishment to sink in before calmly sitting back in his chair.

"I am not you, Envy. I wouldn't have enjoyed such a display. Revenge, for me, has always been based on the 'eye for an eye' concept. Watching another living creature sink into that much despair and fear is something that would excite you, not me."

Envy tasted blood on his lips and bared his teeth, his mind thoroughly reprimanding his tongue but going unheeded. "I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you."

"I would." He didn't falter even a bit. "How else would you explain my hitting you now but not in the hospital?"

Envy stopped, squinting at the other. "What?"

"I didn't strike you in the hospital because you were afraid of me. I didn't strike you when you recanted your anger the night I brought you here. You were repentant—as repentant as someone like you can be—and there was nothing fulfilling about causing your extra pain. Just now, you were not repentant. You still aren't. I punish you because it serves a purpose, not because I derive some sort of sick pleasure from seeing you shake."

If his face got any hotter, Envy feared it might burst into flames. He hated the way his captor spoke so casually about his weaknesses, about how afraid he had been, about seeing him shiver. It was humiliating, but he couldn't deny it without making an even bigger fool out of himself.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy using me for human transmutation," he hissed out, glaring at the other's chest. "Even an idiot could have seen you were having a good time."

Mustang tapped his finger on his bicep, nodding his head. "Yes, there was a certain sense of justice to be had. I enjoyed the fact that you were finally getting a taste of your own medicine. I was glad the souls that had been trapped away inside of you for centuries were being freed, even if that meant they were ceasing to exist. But there is nothing about hearing someone scream in agony that gives me pleasure."

"Lust would probably disagree with you on that one," the homunculus growled, shoving an apple slice into his mouth and continuing to glare.

"If you honestly believed there were any truth in those words, you would look me in the eye rather than staring at my lapels. You are trying to equivocate sadism and satisfaction. I don't have to be a sadist to kill someone without feeling remorse or guilt. I don't have to be a sadist to be pleased with my work, with my ability to hunt down monsters like you, or with the sight of such monsters dead at my feet. I am vengeful, and I am hateful. I might even be cruel. But I am hardly sadistic." Mustang smirked lightly, getting to his feet and walking over to an empty tea kettle. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Envy shook, rage bubbling just beneath the surface, his vision blurring as an indescribable fury took him over. Don't look down on me, human! But he couldn't say that. He couldn't say half of the things that were on his mind without facing some sort of penalty, so he shoved another slice of fruit into his mouth before his tongue could find itself.

You slimy, worthless, disgusting, arrogant, human!

"What'cha reading there, kid?"

Envy looked up from his book long enough to cast the human a withering glare, mumbling something about being several times the man's age before burying his nose between the pages once more.

"Hey, what am I getting the silent treatment for?"

Envy didn't look up again, but it was difficult to focus on the text with Lieutenant Havoc standing there trying to start a conversation, however futile his attempts may have been. Still, the homunculus moved his eyes and pretended to read, doing his best not to shift or move or even breathe too deeply, all the while hoping the man would get the hint and walk away.

"Mustang said you're gonna be out of commission for a while." Havoc grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You gonna read and refuse to talk the entire time?"

"No. If you keep bothering me, I'll talk." Envy closed his book, giving the man a deadly glare. "I'll talk about all the ways I can kill you with the objects in this room alone."

Havoc rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. "Geeze, you're so dramatic."

Envy continued to glare, still hoping he could end the conversation with silence.

Sighing again, the soldier pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and waved them in the other's bruised face. "I'm going out for a smoke, and I thought you might want some fresh air."

Envy arched an eyebrow, failing to understand how he would get fresh air while Havoc smoked, but he didn't question it. He didn't say anything. He sat there, on the sofa, in the office of his warden, staring up at the lieutenant and daring him to press further.

Havoc took the dare.

"Have you ever been told that no news is good news?"

Envy gave the man a long, hard, suspicious look.

"Well, good news! You're not talking, so you're coming with me whether you like it or not." Havoc laughed good-naturedly and grabbed the young man by the arms, pulling him from the couch in a single, swift movement.

Envy froze immediately, pain tearing through his midsection as he was forced onto his feet, his face contorting despite his every attempt to maintain an impassive expression.

"Sorry, forgot about that." Havoc shifted his left arm around Envy's waist. "If you would just play along and stop being so stubborn, this would be a lot easier."

Clearly, Envy wasn't going to get away with ignoring the officer that morning, so he let out a sigh and answered with the first quip that popped into his head. "If you would just leave me alone, it would be easier still."

Havoc chuckled, walking the prisoner out of the office and down the hall towards the stairwell. "Your book will be there when you get back."

Envy bit the inside of his cheek, torn between the satisfaction of another snide remark and catering to the exhaustion already racking his body. Eventually, the smart-mouth settled on silence, following Havoc down the steps and silently calculating the costs and benefits of giving him a shove.

"So, how is it?"

Envy blinked, confused.

"Living with Mustang," the soldier clarified, tossing a brief glance over his shoulder as they arrived at the exit. "How is it?"

Envy watched him carefully, suspicion showing plainly on his face. He squinted, hesitantly following the man out into the cool spring air and taking time to consider the question he had been asked.

How is it? What kind of a question is that? Envy leaned against the wall and carefully lowered himself to the ground, grunting softly. Is he trying to figure out how much of a threat I am? Is the new Fuhrer trying to keep an eye on Mustang? Or is he genuinely just curious about what goes on inside that house?

"It isn't all that remarkable."

Havoc took a drag—Envy hadn't even seen him light up—and blew smoke into the wind, keeping his gaze skyward. "No, I don't suppose it would be. You can barely move, after all."

Envy scowled. "I swear, if you dragged me out here to tell me that I am too injured to come out here, I—"

Havoc laughed suddenly, causing the homunculus to flinch, and flicked the ashes from the end of his cigarette. "I did bring you out here to talk, but not about that. I wanted to know more about your Philosopher's Stone."

Envy glanced at the lieutenant, allowing himself a swallow when he saw the man wasn't looking at him. "If you need to know anything about the Philosopher's Stone, ask the pipsqueak or his brother."

Havoc shook his head, taking another drag before replying. "I want to know about yours specifically. Lieutenant Hawkeye said it's not where it should be."

Envy cast another glance to his left and then let his gaze land on the courtyard in front of him, a sort of glaze forming on his eyes. He had spent an awful lot of time thinking about the Stone on the roof of his mouth—when he wasn't overwhelmed with pain, that is—and he still wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

If I wanted to kill myself, that's where I would pull it out. But if I were dying right now, my body would be fixing the problem—it's only the non-life-threatening wounds that it won't heal. It could be exposed because it was used too much, sort of like a raw nerve beneath skin that's been scraped away, but that seems unlikely. I've never had this problem before now.

"Envy, it isn't going to do any good to keep secrets from us. If the colonel wants to know something, he'll find out one way or another. You're going to make things harder on yourself in the long run."

Glaring, the homunculus took a moment to contemplate the man's words. He knew from experience that Mustang certainly would get what he wanted in the end—and to be perfectly honest, the Elrics were pretty good at hunting down the truth, too, in their own way—but was he really prepared to surrender?

It's not surrender. It's a tactical retreat. I'm choosing to admit a weak point so I can control their next move.

That's what he told himself, anyway.

"Well, I guess we can head back inside."

"I don't know." Envy kept his eyes riveted on a tree several yards in front of him, keeping his expression as blank as possible.

Havoc arched an eyebrow, stopping halfway through crushing his cigarette butt into the ground. "Huh?"

"I don't know why my Philosopher's Stone is where it is." Envy swallowed, slowly standing up and continuing with much more hate in his voice than his exhausted mind could process. "Tell your colonel that, Lieutenant."

Havoc said nothing, watching as the homunculus braced one arm against the wall and trudged back into the building.

Envy didn't dare look back, either. He kept his eyes on the steps ahead, one hand on the railing and the other pressed against his aching side. He could hear Havoc's footsteps behind him, but the blonde didn't say anything or try to pass him.

It hurts. I shouldn't have let him bring me down here. Envy winced at the pain in his left leg, cursing under his breath. I didn't mind the fresh air, but I don't think it was worth the effort. He stopped at the door to the hallway on their floor, grabbing the handle with a shaking hand. Still, it does beat sitting around all day.

Envy pushed his way into the hall and started to walk towards Mustang's office, his hand instinctively seeking out a wall and holding him up with it.

"Here, let me help." Havoc reached out to take the injured prisoner's free arm.

Envy jerked away, nearly falling in the process. "I don't need your help." He could feel his left leg failing even as he said those words.

"Envy, let me give you a hand." Havoc smiled. "It's my fault you're in this state, anyway. I shouldn't have tried to take you outside just yet."

"I am not an invalid," the homunculus snapped. "I can take care of myself."

"Envy—"

"Don't look d—"

It felt like someone stabbed his knee straight through, in one side and out the other, and with a stifled cry he hit the ground, the joint finally giving beneath the weight. Envy hissed, falling over sideways to get his weight off of the knee and rolling onto his back to get closer to the wall.

"You okay?" Havoc asked, crouching down and placing two tentative fingers on the side of the joint.

Envy jerked, giving half of a cry before gritting his teeth and cutting himself off with a deep, unsteady inhale. "Do I—look okay?"

Havoc withdrew his hands and rubbed the back of his head. "But you didn't do anything to it. Did it just give?"

"Apparently," the homunculus snarled, glaring at the man with all of the hatred he could muster.

"Should I try and move you?" the lieutenant asked, looking down the hall to his right. "You almost made it back to the office. It wouldn't be far."

"Well," the young man heaved, "I can't exactly stay here, can I?"

"I mean, you can. It's not really ideal, though."

"Lieutenant!" Envy tried to push himself into a sitting position, slamming his fist against the ground. "I swear, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna slit your throat in your sleep!"

"You're going to do what?"

Envy froze and turned his head to look down the hall in the opposite direction, feeling his stomach knot when his eyes landed on one very unhappy Colonel Mustang.

"It's alright, Colonel. It was my fault. I pushed him too hard, too soon." Havoc grinned at his superior officer, still crouching on the ground at the homunculus' side. "If I were him, I'd wanna kill me, too."

Envy looked between the two men, waiting to see what would happen. He had no idea why Havoc hadn't jumped at the chance to get him in trouble, but there was still no guarantee the explanation would satisfy Mustang. Furthermore, it was possible Havoc really was getting inside information on Mustang, and he was protecting Envy as his source of information, in which case, Envy had no idea who was going to hear about the fact that he didn't understand what his own body was doing to him.

Mustang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Havoc, don't antagonize him. He's bad enough without you making him angry."

"Yes, sir." Havoc nodded and then turned back to Envy. "You gonna let me help now?"

Envy growled, baring his teeth. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Havoc only chuckled, reaching out and wrapping one arm around Envy's shoulders. He slid the other one beneath the homunculus' knees and, very carefully, lifted him off of the ground.

Envy managed to swallow the shout that rose in his throat, moving his hand as subtly as he could to grab on to the soldier's jacket. "Don't drop me."

"Don't make me want to."

Envy grumbled. "Don't forget, this is all your fault."

"That doesn't mean you should make me want to drop you," Havoc grumbled back.

"Knock it off, both of you." Mustang's voice rang out behind them. "Envy, get back to your book. Havoc, get back to work."

"Yes, sir!" Havoc replied over his shoulder, winking down at the young man in his arms. "He isn't all that bad so long as you don't kill his friend or become a mass murderer."

Envy stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, he seems like a real pal."

Havoc only laughed, which Envy noticed he did quite a lot. He seemed generally unaffected by Envy's presence, able to disconnect himself from the situation entirely. He wasn't as emotionally involved as most of the others, and he was too laid back to hold a grudge even if he was.

He's certainly not an ally.

Havoc opened the door and approached the couch, leaning down and placing Envy on the cushions. He straightened up with a smile, gave a mock salute, and swaggered out with a farewell tossed over his shoulder.

But he's not an enemy, either.

And that, Envy realized, was the first comforting thought he'd had in days.