Author's Note: I know it took a lot longer than I planned to get this uploaded, but here it is. Oh, and fun fact! The next chapter is also pretty much finished because I had to split this into two chapters, otherwise it would've been waayyy too long. haha Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. This is Roy's experience. And YES. This story will have a happy ending. I just like to drag my characters through hell before showing them the light. lol

Thank you all so much for the support and the many reviews! (: Each review gives me that little push I need in order to get my fingers moving and churn these chapters out! So it's thanks to you guys that this chapter is complete. So, really, thank you. You are greatly appreciated! :D

(I'm tired, as usual, so I'll do any necessary edits tomorrow. Hopefully it doesn't need too many if any.)

Chapter Six: Putting Out the Flame

Torture: It's one thing to learn about it, to study it in graphic detail, to experience a minimal degree of some types of it in order to fully understand just what it would feel like; to convince yourself that if you were ever in such a situation, that you were strong enough to withstand it and to maintain your sanity. It's another thing entirely to actually experience it or live with knowing that the one person that you trust with your existence and your very soul is suffering to it due to you, and the only way to make it stop is to go behind that person's back and give away all of her secrets; secrets she wanted erased from the world so badly, she had you burn away the majority of the evidence of it from her own flesh. I didn't care what they did to me; not because I could take it, not because I was trained in this, simply because I knew she was holding on, counting on me to hold on too.

He tried to contain the agonizing screams erupting from within with every slice of the blade, but failed miserably. The pain was unimaginable as each cut seemed deeper and to drag slower across his flesh with every new incision. He could feel the viscous ruby tears crying from each newly opened wound, dribbling in thick dollops down his chest and torso to land in a lagoon around his filth covered toes. He had lost count at this point as to exactly how many times they had taken the dagger to his skin, merely focusing on preserving his consciousness.

They were continuing to obnoxiously ask a singular question for the complex answer they had been searching for this whole time, "Well?" The tip of the blade dug into the right side of his ribcage, sinking in gradually until he was sure it was connecting with bone. A groan slid past his clenched teeth. The wielder of the knife yanked down slowly to create yet another unnecessary incision. This had been going on for what felt like hours, but he knew that couldn't be accurate. "Well?" Roy was breathing deeply, trying to regain his composure. There was a black bag over his head so he couldn't see when the razorblade was going to strike or where it would land next, adding to his already heightened anxiety. Another slice, this time it was only centimeters from his spine. "Perhaps that is enough of this for now." He could tell by the calm, collected voice that it was Atticus who was speaking. His voice lowered slightly, "We don't need another prisoner getting sick from open wounds."

As far as Mustang knew, the only prisoners these people had were himself and the Lieutenant. Was Riza sick? His heart was racing. At the words 'open wounds,' he was having difficulty not picturing her in a similar predicament as he was in currently with one of these monsters slicing her up and allowing the lacerations to fester until she would deteriorate from the inside. "Where is the Lieutenant? What have you bastards done to her?!" His voice, slightly muffled beneath the thick sack, wavered with worry. Before he got any response, something coarse was palmed against one of his open cuts. A loud, unhinged bellow forced itself from deep within Roy's chest at the unanticipated excruciating, burning sensation seeping into the cut; it was salt. A scorching agony that was only surpassed by his unsuppressed guilt for the burns he had inflicted on Riza all of those years ago. Was this how it felt for her? Is this the kind of harrowing anguish he had put her through? Another cup of salt was thrust flush against his flesh, provoking yet another unholy wail from the colonel. He had to regain control. He already knew they were purposely doing this one at a time to drag out the torment for him, so he had to prepare himself for the next palm full of the sodium-laced torture device. The 'salting' seemed to extend for a longer fraction of time than the actual incisions themselves. Once they had finished with each wound, tremors were wracking Roy's body. They had yet to unleash him from the chains that imprisoned his arms in an extended position above his head, attaching to the ceiling and a second set around his ankles attaching into the floor, but the bag was swiftly tugged from his head to finally allow him to see his captors.

He had to blink a few times in order to adjust his eyes to the bright fluorescent lights overhead. "Due to your lack of cooperation, this will be your new sleeping arrangement, Colonel. It may not seem like a big deal now, but I promise you, sleep deprivation is far worse than one would think." Atticus flashed Roy a sadistic smile, "Think about how important protecting your precious teacher's research truly is to you. I'll be back to give you another chance to submit. For now, I must be off to check on that precious Lieutenant of ours." The colonel growled, preparing to respond with an ineffective threat, but Atticus was already out of the cell and sauntering away down the hall. "Goddammit! Leave her alone!" The curse echoed off of the walls, but upon getting no response, Roy realized he was truly once again alone.

The tactics they were using on the colonel were textbook at this point. Food was scarce: Roy would only receive barely more than crumbs of stale bread at random intervals. For the first couple of days, he was given nothing at all though, so this was an improvement. It wasn't until after the torture began that they started giving him enough to barely survive on. After going so many days with no water, Roy was careless when they gave him the first bottle of water. It was only half full and his thirst was begging to be quenched. He foolishly assumed he would be given more the next day considering it was only a half full bottle, and immediately emptied the contents. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to him until it was already too late, the half empty bottle of water was meant to fuel him for the entire week. He was much more conservative with the second portion given to him, opting to only have a small sip when he absolutely needed it. It was only natural that now they would take control over his sleeping schedule as well.

They had ripped his shirt to shreds during interrogation, so he stood with his chest bare, aside from the open punctures and clotting blood marring it, and was also sopping wet from the simulated drowning they had done with him only hours ago; exposing him to the harsh chill of the room. So, they had finally chosen the insomniac's torture method which Mustang vaguely remembered learning briefly back at the academy. It was a breezed over topic, made out to be an easy method to endure, which had him thinking his captors to be fools for choosing it over some of the more sinister methods they had learned about. However, with already very little sleep, and now being forced to stand in such a rigid, upright position, Roy was not looking forward to not being able to regain his strength through the rare bouts of sleep he was able to get before.

The tub was filled to the brim with frigid water. Barrett forced the colonel to his knees in front of the vat; his hair clenched in the bear-man's fist and the other hand placed firmly on his shoulder to keep him from trying to move. Atticus knelt down on the opposite side of the tub to meet Roy's eyes. "Where's the research, Colonel?"

"Screw you."

The arctic water was like a million pin needles piercing his skin. He tried escaping from the shocking cold, wriggling his shoulders wildly to elude the hands submerging his head beneath the water's surface. Vastly contrasting warm air soared happily into his lungs once he was lifted from the vat. "I hate repeating myself, Colonel. I want to make this as easy as possible for you. All you have to do is-"

"Colonel Roy Mustang. 178-"

"Oh, enough! If you start rattling off that idiotic soldier shit, I'm going to make this a lot worse for you. I'll toss some hot wires in that tub while your face is in it if you want to play that game."

Roy clenched his jaw. His eyes narrowed but were slightly hidden beneath his unkempt, overgrown mat of wet hair that was sticking to his forehead.

"I have nothing else to offer you."

Atticus sighed. Two fingers squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I'm growing weary of your lack of cooperation."

"You might as well drown me. I'm not telling you anything."

Atticus narrowed his eyes. "Stubborn. Very well." He gestured with two fingers to the man with a firm hold on Roy seconds before his head was forced back beneath the icy liquid. He truly thought Atticus was going to take his advice and allow him to die. His lungs ached, pleading with their master to breathe. puffs of smoke or fog clouded his mind and vision. Just as Roy was about to give in to his lungs' request, Barrett yanked him from the water and threw him onto his back on the unforgiving cement. "Don't wish for death so readily, Colonel." Roy was sputtering and sucking in oxygen in excess. His eyes were still shut when he heard the sound of footsteps coming closer to him. Atticus knelt beside Roy, resting a hand on his shivering shoulder. "You still have a Lieutenant to fight for."

After being in this contraption for who knows how long, Roy finally began giving into his exhaustion. Unfortunately, he quickly found out that if he ever started to doze off and allow his body to slide toward the floor, the tug on the chains would trigger an electric jolt that would shock him back awake. He had only experienced the shock once now, giving into his body's desire to rest and was feeling far too weary to maintain the stiff upright posture. The electricity had obviously done its job though because since then, Roy had not slept a wink. The exhaustion in his sleep deprived mind and in his jittering knees from standing for so long in one place seemed to be a tangible weight at this point. Holding up his arms was molding into a laborious effort; a dull ache resonated in his shoulders and neck, his fingertips tingled. Every time Roy blinked, it felt like someone was tugging down on his eyelids to try and keep them closed, making it quite a task to reopen them. The uncomfortable position his arms were locked in was the only thing that didn't truly bother him any more simply because he could no longer feel his arms due to the unfair fact that they were able to fall asleep. His legs were threatening to buckle beneath him, but he forced himself to remain stoic, staring straight ahead at Tallen, who was apparently serving on guard duty for now. He was outside of the cell, flipping through a magazine with disinterest.

"You want to know a secret, Colonel?"

After going so long in the deafening silence, the sound of the man's voice made Mustang jump. He held his hazy gaze on Tallen, who's gaze was still focused on the periodical between his hands. "Alright." Roy couldn't deny his curiosity was peaked. His ears perked up, anxiously awaiting what Tallen had to say.

"You were not the last of Berthold's apprentices."

Roy's eyes widened. What was he saying? Was he saying that he been trained by Master Hawkeye?

"I'm no stranger to Riza. In fact, we got to know each other very, very well back in the day." There was a subtle tug at the side of Tallen's lips that made Roy's blood run cold. "and I'm quite upset she has still not recognized me."

"I'm guessing that's why you are so adamantly pursuing her father's research?"

Noting that Tallen was still absentmindedly flipping through the magazine while revealing such shocking news irritated Roy. He wasn't sure if his heightened degree of irritation was simply due to his lack of sleep or if it was because of the way Tallen insinuated a deeper relationship with Riza than he cared to believe.

"It's rightfully mine. He promised it to me and then that bitch ruined everything."

The colonel yanked at the bonds enclosing his wrists with blind fury, forgetting about the aftermath of such an action. "Don't you dare-" He was cut off as a tremor of electricity pulsed through his veins. "You're..." He had to catch his breath. Roy hated feeling so weak, especially allowing it to show in front of the enemy. He gave himself an extra moment to compose himself and find his voice. "You're lying. There's no way Master Hawkeye would trust someone like you."

"Yet, while he was not shy about his hatred for the military and all it stood for, he still seemed to be foolish enough to trust you: a dog of the military. So why not me, Mustang? Hm? What makes you think you are so much better than me, so much more worthy of Flame Alchemy than myself?" He had finally lowered the magazine to his lap and was glaring at the shackled, shirtless man behind the bars. Mustang thought back to his first night here in Purgatory, before he and the Lieutenant were separated.

Roy was lying flat on his back with one hand underneath his head in place of a pillow, his other hand was resting on the small of the back of his subordinate. Unfortunately, due to her restraints, Riza could only find any comfort in lying on her stomach. Riza's head was nuzzled up in the crook of Roy's neck with her ear resting over his heart. They had laid in a comfortable silence for a while now, just happy to know they were both safe; for now. They were both awake, staring off in random space until Riza finally spoke in a hushed whisper. "You know there's one thing that has been bothering me since our team was assigned this mission…" She squinted her eyes as if this would help her to recall something long forgotten, "There's something about Tallen Greggs that, I don't know, seems familiar somehow." Roy lifted a single eyebrow at her. "Like an old boyfriend or something?" There was a little humor in his voice as he spoke. He felt her shift her head against his chest in what he assumed was her shaking her head at him. "I can't say for sure why, I just feel like I have met him before...and I have a very unnerving feeling about it." Before they had any more time to discuss the matter further, their ears perked at the sound of shoes against the damp, cement floor nearing their cell, indicating that their time together was almost up.

A dry lump had formed in Roy's throat that he was attempting to swallow as he spoke. "I still don't believe you." That was a lie. Riza claimed to feel some kind of familiarity with the criminal, just unsure of its roots. He had a feeling he was no longer curious to find out what exactly Tallen had to share with him.

"No?" He chuckled, tossing the magazine to the ground beside the chair and walking over towards the bars of the cell. "My real name is Gideon Verrot. I was there when you weren't. I was the lucky one that got to pretend to care enough about picking up the pieces of Riza's broken heart and mending it with lies after you left. She sent letter after letter to you. I noticed that each letter grew shorter and shorter as time went by. After an entire year of no response, she gave up and began focusing all of her time on playing with the gun her grandfather sent her years before and of course, spending time with me."

He flashed a devilish grin at Roy. "She was such a stubborn, feisty thing back then too. Refused to even talk to me for months at the beginning of my stay. Except, she didn't have as much fight in her back then. Or maybe she just lacked the training to protect herself that she has now. Either way, we had our fun... until she made up a bunch of lies about me to her father all because I had asked her about the research. Needless to say, he kicked me out. I tried to convince him that his daughter was a lying bitch, but naturally, he didn't believe me. After leaving there, I decided I didn't need a teacher. I taught myself alchemy. I've mastered the basics and a few fancy tricks, so now, all I need is to learn flame alchemy. Atticus and I may be after the same thing, but our goals differ greatly. He is wanting to sell the research for profit. I just want the power; and to shove it in that dead bastard's face."

All of this new information was swirling around in Roy's mind in an incoherent jumble. Could he even believe anything this man said? Had Riza truly turned to such a monster for comfort and companionship after he abandoned her? There was a treacherous amount of guilt adding itself to the pile already gnawing away at his insides. He knew Riza had her secrets, as did he. But this felt like something he deserved to have heard about. Why? Why did he feel that way? It was his own fault her father had to seek out another apprentice in order to pay the bills and keep their miniature family afloat. It was his fault she was alone and left in the wake he left her in when he finally confessed his intentions for the future; a future he claimed she had no place in. Of course she wouldn't feel the necessity in confiding in him with such a fragile moment in her life; a rare time for the headstrong woman to allow her shattered heart to lead her in place of logic. A more burning question was now plaguing the colonel: what had he done to her? He may have never heard her speak of her father's past apprentices, including this one, but he did know the woman well enough, even back then, to know she would not go tattling to her father about anything. Something must have happened for Berthold to question his daughter's relationship or safety with this man. The muscles in Roy's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth tighter together. There were vital pieces of this puzzle that Gideon was leaving out.

Before the cogs in his mind were fully able to churn out any legitimacy from what Tallen, or Gideon had said, the man let out a wild cackle. "I do find it quite enjoyable to see the hurt and confusion so blatantly on your face. I'm assuming she had never mentioned me to you before? Oh, and here I thought you two were so close." Mustang gritted his teeth.

"We used to be close. We are no more than superior and subordinate now." His voice was monotonous in an effort to hide his inner turmoil from his words.

Gideon slammed his fist against one of the metal bars, "Bullshit! You say that as if you are reading a line from a page. Don't act like I'm some fool! I know the relationship you two have runs much deeper than your petty military positions."

The words the man was speaking sounded slurred and incoherent, as if he was intoxicated or also lacking sleep. It took Mustang a long minute to realize it was because his own brain was functioning at an irregular pace; taking longer than usual to organize the intake of words properly for Roy to comprehend.

"It sounds like someone is jealous of this imaginary relationship you think the Lieutenant and I are sharing." Gideon didn't like that. His hands wrapped around the bars separating him from the man in chains.

"Jealous?" He lifted an eyebrow at the Colonel. "I have nothing to be jealous of. She may have a different rendition of our tale, but I promise you, she hasn't forgotten me." Slits formed where his eyes once were. He lowered his voice. "She never will. Riza Hawkeye will always be mine."

"I thought you said she hasn't even recognized you."

Roy could tell he was getting under Gideon's skin just by the twitch of his eye. "Whether she remembers who I was twelve years ago or who I am to her now, it's still me she's remembering." Roy couldn't help but laugh out loud. The laugh sounded maniacal due to his current tired state of mind.

"You're pathetic. I'm beginning to think this whole thing is just a tragic, one-sided love story."

Gideon tilted his head to the side with a smile, "I don't think you can categorize what I've done to her under 'love stories.'"

Mustang's muscles tensed. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Gideon flashed him an insidious smirk before stepping away from the bars. "Too bad it's too late for you to find that out from her yourself."

Roy's heart sunk. "What do you mean?"

"I think I've told you enough for now, Colonel." He turned around and walked away.

"Hey, Verrot! Get your ass back here!"

Blood filled Roy's ears as the heavy silence returned, leaving only the sound of his erratic heart thumping in his chest; he was alone again. Only this time, he had far too much to think about. Horrid images of Riza writhing beneath the crushing grasp of Gideon. Her lips forming Roy's name but no sound could escape. Her amber eyes wide with trepidation as the incandescence that should be illuminating there was gradually fading. He resorted to shaking his head in an effort to purge the tormenting images away. he needed to stop allowing his imagination to control his thoughts. He couldn't afford to lose his head now that sleep was no longer something he could indulge in to rid himself of conscious struggles; allow himself to be immersed in his dreams and his mind to escape from the current Hell he was physically residing.

Roy was no stranger to restless nights, especially after the war. However, this was not the same. He could at least lay in his bed on those nights and if the loneliness of the night got to be too much for him, he could selfishly dial Riza's number at three in the morning and hear her voice to relieve him of some of the burdening guilt that was keeping him awake. Something that always troubled him was not only how quickly she would answer but also the subtle inflections in her voice that Roy never dared question her about. The lack of that thick, tired voice as if one has just woken up was never on the other end of the line. She always sounded wide awake. It also surprised him that he was never scolded for dialing her so late, or so early whichever way she looked at it, but instead she seemed to talk to him more by starting the majority of the light-hearted topics to discuss. Even in his current predicament, he felt his dry lip crack apart and bleed as a small smile tugged at his lips at the memory. Memory. Is that all she was now? Where was she? Was she suffering the way they were hoping to make him suffer, or had Gideon purposely phrased his sentence to indicate her untimely demise? He could no longer cage his irritation and allowed a bellow of rage escape his throat.

He couldn't let himself dwell much on thoughts of his lieutenant's predicament, unless he wanted to assist in his own personal torture, so he instead tried to focus his thoughts away from the talk he had just had with Verrot and away from any horrifying images of his lieutenant laying on a filth covered floor with a dying pulse. To put his mind at ease, he decided to focus on thoughts of his other subordinates instead. He imagined Hughes at home, snuggling up to his beautiful daughter and loving wife. Breda snacking away on a sandwich with his feet up on the coffee table. He wondered where Edward and Alphonse could be now and what trouble they were managing to get themselves in. Or Havoc, sitting in a bar or a restaurant attempting to hit on any woman that would have the misfortune of walking past him alone, leading to him ultimately getting slapped or a glass of water thrown in his face for saying something perverse. That reminded him of the night they were taken. The last time he had seen Havoc, the man was unconscious with his face in a puddle of liquor on the counter from where he had accidentally spilt his drink before succumbing to the sedatives discreetly placed in all of their drinks. Where was he now then? They hadn't captured him; that he knew. But what did that mean for his friend? Had they simply left him there, to wake on his own to an empty bar? Did the others find him shortly after realizing something was not right when none of them had maintained contact? Was his team searching for them now? Or had they just been presumed dead?

Again, Roy had to force the negative thoughts from his mind and focus once more on the times at the office he once found tedious but was now praying to live for once more in the future. The sound of silence due to Riza's stern stares when anyone deviated from their paperwork. The sound of pens scribbling against parchment and papers being shuffled around. The stench of Havoc's cigarettes as he puffed away at his desk when Riza was out on an errand and couldn't get after him for his disgusting habit. The smell of Riza's hair when she would lean down to lay a new stack of papers on Roy's desk for him to sign. The subtle, caring glances she would pass him when no one else in the office was paying attention. The rare smiles she would flash him when he was ranting, or pouting about his minute stresses in hopes of giving him some relief. The terror on that same face at the sight of their captors coming for them in the cell when they were last together. The thought of how he imagined she would look if he saw her right now; torn, battered and bruised from whatever these monsters were putting her through for something he could so easily give them. There he went again, back to his pessimistic thoughts. He growled under his breath at his own inability to stay focused on anything positive to help his mind at least escape this hell when his body physically couldn't. He decided against allowing his brain to do anymore activities and instead chose to just waste time glaring at the empty plastic chair outside of the cell with the abandoned magazine lying in an unorganized heap by the chair's legs. Thinking about nothing seemed to be his safest option at this point, so the colonel chose to indulge in the solitary silence surrounding him for now.

He wasn't sure how many hours or days he had been forced to stand in this same position with no sleep, but he was definitely beginning to miss what he had once taken for granted. His mind felt like it was completely unattached to his body at this point. It felt like a mere vessel to house his consciousness; his head felt too heavy for his neck to hold up anymore, now that it felt like it was filled with gravel and grit and maybe a sandwich. What? He was definitely in need of REM. He heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the corner of his cell and instinctively lifted his heavy skull, the weight causing his neck to strain. It took a moment for his blurry gaze to pull into focus the figure crouched across the room with its face hidden beneath a mess of golden hair. "Lieutenant? Is that you?" His own voice sounded foreign to him. His heart skipped in his chest at the site of what he hoped to be that familiar woman he had presumed dead. Unfortunately, upon closer inspection of the specter, Roy noticed that this was no full grown woman cowering in the corner of the room; it was a small, sobbing child. The hope in his heart vanished being once again replaced by the numbness that seemed to be his body's defense against the pain he knew would inevitably arise once he was fully able to accept her demise to be real. The child was wearing a plain white dress that looked almost like an over-sized shirt and her knees were tugged up to her chest with her face was buried between them. "Roy," That voice. It was so haunting, so familiar. "Where were you?" He frowned, unsure of what she was speaking of. "You weren't there. You just left and I was alone again." Onyx eyes widened. Was he hallucinating? "You left and I was alone with that-that monster!"

"Riza, I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"Would it have changed anything?"

The colonel winced, knowing that no matter how much it hurt, he knew he still would have left. It was something he firmly believed he had to do; it was his duty to the people of Amestris, something he still firmly believed. He allowed his gaze to drift to the uninteresting grime on his feet.

"I knew it wouldn't. You said you cared about me, did you mean that?"

His eyes snapped back up, "Yes, of course I did! I still do! Riza, please, why didn't you tell me? What happened with Gideon?" He saw her shoulders tense and her toes curled in when he spoke the man's name. She gave no response but he could still hear her hushed cries. "Riza..."

She finally lifted her head, and Roy's entire body went cold. There were heavy purple bruises lining the side of her face and jaw. Her lower lip appeared to have been busted open at one point but now only a linear trail of dried blood was left. It took him a second to gather himself to speak. "Is this what he did to you?"

She shocked him by shaking her head. "No. This is what you did to me."

The colonel slammed his eyelids together. This wasn't real, this couldn't be real. His mind was messing with him. He opened his eyes, hoping to be once again alone, but instead now saw the girl lying in a pool of blood right in front of him. He gasped, tearing his eyes away from the horrifying image. With no other option, Roy tugged his arms down as hard as he could muster, holding them in place to allow an extended electric shock to rush through him. The sound of screaming filled his ears which only made him tug down harder on the chains. It only took a few seconds before Roy realized the screaming was his own. He finally allowed his arms to return to their assigned position, ordering the shock to cease its attack. Onyx eyes hesitantly opened one at a time, afraid of what they would see. Fortunately, the imaginary girl had vanished. He sighed, but still felt no comfort after the talk he had just had with the hallucination. Real or not, it was all true. It was his fault, everything was his fault. Resolute in what he must do, Roy vowed to himself that if his lieutenant was still alive, and he had to convince himself not to believe otherwise, to do whatever it took to get her out of here. Promise be damned. The research was not worth her life, not to him.

Three days. With or without any real indication of time other than counting how many occasions he would be pulled from his cell for interrogation, he was positive of it. It had been three days since anyone had said anything to him about his lieutenant. The rest of his stay, it seemed someone always brought up his subordinate at one point or another when they wanted to elicit a strong reaction from Roy. They would give him subtle hints as to what they had been doing to her and made sure to never give away too many details. Roy could tell holding back on each, disturbing detail was driving Gideon insane; he was dying to see the expression on Roy's face when he would delve into the sadistic facts. Unfortunately for him, someone must have instructed no one to tell him more than the minimum which proved to be smart, considering it drove Roy mad not knowing precisely what the condition of his lieutenant was. After being here for however long it had been now, the colonel had grown used to their teasing and hateful comments about Riza because at least it meant she was still alive. But now, it had been three days and not even Gideon had brought her up. What did this mean? Why had everyone suddenly stopped talking about her?

"I heard you punched one of our associates."

Roy's eyebrows tugged down; he glared at the well-dressed man in front of him.

"Bruised his cheek pretty good. He was quite upset with you."

He had been pacing around the room for a while before he finally halted right in front of Roy. "But don't worry, he got his payback already." A devilish grin contorted the criminal's face after he spoke, eliciting a sinking feeling in Roy's stomach. "I heard she put up quite a fight. I'll admit, I didn't think you two would hold out this long. But I think we've got her close to breaking…" The man trailed off. A dark chuckle came from the other side of the room. His eyes turn to meet Tallen's gaze once he finished his laughing fit. He had been wearing a smirk on his face since he had first entered the room and leaned himself against the wall as if something had been amusing him.

"Oh, she's a feisty little thing that's for sure." Tallen pushed himself away from the wall and began his walk towards Roy and Atticus. "I got quite a bit of fight out of her. I even got her to beg a little bit."

"Bullshit." Roy was sick of the way they were discussing his lieutenant in front of him. Tallen didn't stop.

"You should've seen her face: the tears, the terror in her eyes..."

"What the hell did you do to her?"

"Hm, a better question would be what I haven't done to her." He tapped his lower lip, pretending to think. Roy was fuming.

"You better hope that's not true. When I get out of here, Greggs, I swear I'm going to-"

"Have you ever heard her cry out in agony; in pure, overwhelming torment, Colonel? After all of the years you've had together in the military and in the war, I'm sure you've heard it at least once." That revolting plummeting feeling returned; he had. The night he fulfilled his promise to her and burned away as much as he could from her back. She didn't mean to; it was involuntary and he knew she was upset with herself for allowing it to escape her lips. It was a small cry when the flames first licked her skin and it was absolutely heart wrenching. Tallen must have noticed the look of guilt on Roy's face because he chuckled.

"I figured you had. I have too. But by the look on your face, it doesn't seem you enjoyed it as much as I did."

Tallen grabbed Roy by the nape of the neck, harshly ripping his head back so that he was forced to look at him. "I heard her let out a scream. One just for me. Oh Colonel, it was delicious."

Roy's upper lip quivered as an enraged growl rumbled behind his clenched teeth, imagining what this monster must have done to the resilient woman in order to provoke such a response from her. "I'll kill you!" He was fighting as hard as he could to get at Tallen which Tallen took great humor in and was once again laughing at Roy's failed attempts. "Well, Atticus, Mustang, It was fun but I should be off. I need to check on our sick lady and make sure the infection hasn't killed her yet. How unfortunate would that be?" A dark chuckle followed by an over the shoulder wave was all the madman offered to the questions swirling around Mustang's mind.

Infection? What the hell had they done to her? He continued yanking and struggling fruitlessly to get to the deranged man. "Come back here, you bastard! Stay away from her!" Roy's heart was sinking with every step Tallen took out of the room. Atticus took his place back in front of his prisoner, cupping his hands behind his back. "Let's get started, shall we?"

His blood ran cold. Onyx eyes dilated as a terrifying realization hit the man. Had they killed her? This infection that Gideon spoke of, had it taken her? Or was it something far worse that stole her away from him? Was his lieutenant, his Riza dead? The mere thought of such a thing made his stomach twist in knots and he believed he was going to be sick. Roy was feeling lightheaded from the nauseating feeling and from the devastating turmoil brewing inside of him. She couldn't die here, he wouldn't let this be the hell in which she took her last breath. He shifted his weight as best as he could in his current condition to the other foot and back again.

"Stop fidgeting."

"Where the hell is she?"

The guard, with his ankle resting on the opposing knee, sitting in the same chair Gideon had sat in days ago, didn't even both to look up from the smut magazine he was currently flipping through. "What are you on about now, Colonel?"

"Where the hell is my lieutenant? Tell me now."

The guard chuckled, lifting his eyes for a moment to glance at Roy. "You ain't really in a position to be giving orders."

Roy snarled. The guard wasn't wrong though. His temper was growing more and more difficult to reel in once provoked due to his lack of nourishment or rest. He shifted his feet once more, testing the chains on his ankles with a gentle tug.

"Hey now, dammit, I told ya to stop your fidgeting."

"Fuck you."

The man's eyes peeked out from over the top of his magazine. "What did you just say to me?"

Roy straightened his back to puff out his chest. His eyes narrowed at the guard. "I said, 'fuck you.'"

The man threw down his magazine, standing up from his chair. "Do you really want to play this game, Colonel?"

"What are you going to do about it?" He knew he was being foolish by provoking the guard but he just didn't care anymore. If Riza was truly gone, he had no reason to continue fighting. "I'm the Flame Alchemist; the one and only Flame Alchemist. You're nothing. Legs and arms tied up and I'll still kick your ass."

A full key ring was pulled from the guard's pocket and he was angrily flipping through each key to find the appropriate one to enter Roy's cell. He smirked, anxious for a fight for some reason. "I don't care what they call you. I'll-"

"I don't believe I instructed you to pose threats to our guest, Claudius. You are relieved." Claudius stopped fumbling with the keys. He turned around to face the source of the voice and bowed his head in shame. The man muttered something of an apology under his breath before picking up his magazine and departing quickly. Atticus turned his attention to the shackled man and smiled, "You are looking a little worse for wear, Colonel."

"Gee, I wonder why." He responded, sarcastically. Atticus shook his head, "You've still managed to maintain that charming attitude of yours, I see. No matter, we'll break you of that."

Roy ignored the threatening tone Atticus used. "Where is the Lieutenant?"

As if he was so annoyed by the question, Atticus rolled his eyes. "You refuse to answer my questions but expect me to answer yours?"

"You'll get nothing out of me if she's dead."

"Right, right. Of course." He waved it off as if the words meant nothing, causing Roy even more irritation. "For now, you should be worried more for yourself." That familiar sadistic smirk appeared on Atticus's face just as the bear-sized man, Barrett entered the room, cracking his knuckles. His body went cold, he didn't want to admit it, but every time these men entered his room, he did feel some semblance of fear for what they had in store for him; though he refused to show such a thing. The fight that was brewing in him only moments ago seemed to be blown out like the lit wick of a candle.

"'The one and only Flame Alchemist,' hm? Well, let's see how much more the famous Flame can take."

"Answer the question, Colonel."

"Go to Hell."

Atticus nodded to Barrett, who was hovering behind a seated and strapped down Roy, silently instructing the oversized man to curl one of those substantial hands around Roy's middle finger on his left hand and thrust it backwards until it laid parallel with his palm. An indignant roar echoed out against the walls of the large room following the sound of the each miniature metacarpal in his knuckle cracked and crunched.

"You're going to tell me what I want to know, or I'm going to have Barrett here tear you apart, bone by bone."

"You are just wasting your time, Atticus. I would rather die than give someone like you access to something so powerful."

A sickening grin traced along Atticus's lips. "We'll just have to see which comes first then, hm?"

Barrett balled his plump fingers around another of Roy's fingers and snapped it back with another sickening crack. He felt like he was going to extrude the menial contents of his stomach or black out. Roy lolled his head forward which only caused the light, airy feeling in his head to increase.

"Don't worry, I won't let you pass out." Through the murky haze of Roy's gaze, he saw something glimmer as the fluorescent light hit it; it was a needle. Atticus was getting closer, tapping the barrel of the syringe. "I've been using this on your lieutenant. Here lately, she's been trying to pass out on me before we've finished our fun—I mean questioning." That familiar demented smirk reappeared on the man's face right before he shoved the needle into the side of Roy's neck. "This is called Paricyl. It's not exactly legal or safe but it definitely gets the job done."

Only seconds later, Roy felt the ability to sink into the darkness leave him. His body would no longer allow him any conscious escape from the agony. Another thought hit Roy; they had finally mentioned Riza. However, the way he spoke in past tense about her left Roy with that numb, empty feeling once more.

"Just let me know if you change your mind, Mustang."

Barrett continued until colors were bursting at the corners of Roy's eyes and he felt as if the pain was about to make him pass out. Anguished screams left him with a scratchy, inflamed throat and a barely audible voice. Barrett had broken four of Roy's fingers before he decided to grab Roy by the upper arm and place a hand against his back, indicating he was moving on to another part of his arm to snap.

"Where is the research?"

Roy remained silent, staring off across the room, Barrett rested a hand on the back of Roy's shoulder and another on his forearm then sharply yanked it back. The bone made a sickening popping sound and was soon shadowed by a pained scream in anguish from Roy.

There was a pulsating agony that would not dissipate from where his arm was now dislocated. Roy's eyes were shut tightly, his teeth gritted together in a desperate attempt to ignore the pain.

"Mustang? Are you going into shock already, or simply being rude and ignoring me?"

A humorless chuckle hissed out between Roy's clenched teeth. "Me being rude? You're the one that's being a horrible host. You haven't even offered me a drink yet."

Atticus seemed to find no humor in Roy's sarcasm and gave Barrett another nod. His over-sized hands pulled away from Roy's body which gave him a moment of relief, as he began unshackling the colonel from the chair. Those large hands yanked him up. Atticus clasped his hands behind his back, leaning towards Roy. His lips moved mere inches from the colonel's ear, "I saw what you did to her. Now I understand why she was so important to you; she was where you hid your precious alchemy."

The world seemed to stop; everything seemed to stop. His heart, his lungs, everything shut down just as a horrifying realization came to Roy: they had found the tattoo. The sharp intake of breath did not go unnoticed by Atticus.

"You truly are an entity of evil, aren't you? Convincing that poor woman to follow you blindly and allow you to mutilate her body for your own selfish reasons? You claim me and my men to be such monsters," He tapped Roy cheek with his palm a couple of times and grinned. "But you are the true monster, Roy Mustang."

Author's Note: Next chapter is almost done! Just need to do some editing at this point. The next chapter is the last "dark" chapter and then things will begin to look up for our lovely couple. I'll be posting it once I get some feedback. Love you all! Let me know what you think so far! ^_^

-InconsciousSin.