Consciousness came slowly, bringing with it a pounding headache and an edge of pain that spread over his backside with every breath he took. He was cold, which was something he had come to expect, but the chill was running against his bare back and shoulders. It felt good on his raw skin, but it struck him as odd. His back was not against the mattress and the coarse restraints that ran across the bed, as it had been when he had fallen asleep. Instead, he was on his stomach, one arm trapped under his chest while the other hung limply off the edge of the bed. He was unrestrained. He was comfortable.

It didn't make sense.

"You finally decided to wake up, huh?"

Envy startled at the voice, pushing himself up onto his elbows and turning his head to the left. Mustang was sitting on a bedside chair, legs crossed and arms folded over his chest, eyes sharp and cold.

"You slept for quite a while. How do you feel?" the colonel continued, his voice as monotonous and unreadable as ever.

Envy watched him carefully, scanning the other's countenance before offering a reply. "My head hurts." Then, after a pause, he continued. "Well, everything hurts, but you already knew that."

Mustang hummed, nodding his head slightly and lapsing into silence. Envy kept his mouth shut, watching the soldier with deep-seated suspicion dancing in his eyes. He could only remember bits and pieces of the night before, but he remembered the explosion, and he remembered that he man wasn't done dishing out whatever punishment he had concocted for the homunculus.

"Stay." Mustang got to his feet and crossed the room, disappearing into the bathroom for a few seconds before returning with a cup of water. "Drink this. It will help with the headache."

Envy scowled, giving the man a wary onceover before accepting the cup and tossing back the contents. It felt good on his throat, but it wasn't much, and all too soon he was handing back the empty vessel.

"How will this help?" the captive questioned, trying to roll over before deciding the pain wasn't worth it.

"I would wager your headache is from dehydration. You lost a lot of fluids from crying last night." Mustang replied without a hint of patronization or sympathy, not leaning to one side or the other in regards to Envy's suffering. "Water will replenish those fluids and get rid of the headache."

Envy fought off the blush rising in his cheeks and gave a single nod.

"You can have more with breakfast, but we need to talk first."

Slowly lowering himself back to the mattress, Envy grunted out a reply. "'Bout what?"

"About a very interesting report I received this morning." Mustang reclaimed his seat and crossed his arms again, staring the other down with a mixture of anger and confusion in his eyes.

Envy only stared, twice as confused and not knowing what to say.

"At around four o' clock this morning, military personnel apprehended the man who blew up the Green Dragon yesterday afternoon." Mustang glared. "Would you like to tell me how that's possible?"

Envy stiffened. "Not really."

"I would strongly advise you reconsider."

For a moment, the homunculus didn't say a word, staring at a single spot on the wall and trying to keep his brain from shorting out. He hadn't expected the military to continue looking for the perpetrator if he admitted to the crime, so he hadn't created a contingency plan for Mustang learning the truth.

"Now, Envy."

"Fine, I didn't do it," the pseudo human snapped.

Mustang scowled. "You still haven't learned the pointlessness of lying to me?"

Envy glowered at him, pushing himself up onto his elbows again. "Oh, please. I knew you wouldn't believe me if I tried to tell you I was innocent, and I wasn't about to let you torture me for telling the truth."

"If you had said you were innocent, I would have needed to find some proof before I could punish you." Mustang opened his mouth to continue, but Envy cut him off.

"You wouldn't have needed jack diddly, and don't try to tell me otherwise. You can hide behind your laws and your uniform and your so-called network of accountability, but you would gladly take the bare minimum as an excuse to put me through whatever punishment you see fit. You give yourself a code to make it look like you have a moral compass, like you're holding back and being a decent person, but you're really just biding your time. You're just waiting for me to slip up so you can finally do what you've been waiting to since the day you captured me." Envy stared the other down, unwavering despite the fact that his heart was leaping into his throat. "Go ahead and hit me, because I won't be sorry for that."

Silence.

Mustang stared at him, not saying a word but not visibly angry, either. Envy stared back, waiting for the boot to drop, anxiety swelling in his stomach as he realized he had no idea what the colonel was thinking or planning. Mustang stood up, uncrossed his arms, and gave a single command in a voice that was calm and, surprisingly, somewhat soft.

"Lay back down."

Envy frowned but did as he was told, folding his arms beneath his pillow and resting his head on top. He listened carefully as Mustang stepped out of the room once more, this time going into the hallway. What, is he going to whip me again? That's what Envy would have done, had the roles been reversed. It would be twice as painful, striking the already sensitive and welted skin, and the damage would go deep enough to potentially cause bleeding.

The door opened, and Mustang stepped back into the room. He walked up to the bed and set a small, round tin on the nightstand, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up.

There are a lot of chemicals you can put on burns and welts to make them hurt more. It certainly takes less effort and time than flogging someone. Envy swallowed and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh in an attempt to look calm and somewhat bored. Just don't think about it. You can't stop him anyway.

Mustang gathered the tangled strands of hair into a ball and clipped them to the back of Envy's head. Then he grabbed the tin and twisted the lid off, smearing what sounded like a cream or salve onto his hand before setting the container back down. Envy braced himself, biting down on the inside of his lip, and then Mustang started to gently spread the substance over his back.

It didn't hurt.

Quite the opposite, the substance was thick and cool, soothing the ache and sting left behind by the whip. It was oily—probably a salve, Envy realized—and it sank into his skin almost immediately, softening the flesh so it didn't pull at the welts every single time he inhaled. It felt good, and as Mustang continued to carefully apply the substance to the wounds, Envy realized the colonel didn't intend for it to hurt.

"I don't understand." Envy exhaled sharply, wincing. "Why are you doing this?"

Mustang didn't respond right away, and when he did, his voice still carried that hint of gentleness it had had earlier. "Because you're right. I wouldn't have believed you, and you would have been punished for lying." He reached down and tucked the blanket into Envy's pants, pulling both linens a few inches lower. "I am… sorry. I am sorry you had to choose between those two options because of my stubborn hatred."

Envy froze, staring at the wall with wide eyes and trying to figure out what had just happened. It sounded like Mustang had just apologized to him for being hateful, for forcing him into a lose-lose situation. It sounded like that, but that couldn't have been right. Even if Mustang was in the wrong, who would ever apologize to an enemy? Who would ever admit defeat like that? It was so humiliating. He could understand humans debasing themselves for their loved ones, but for an enemy? It made no sense. It made no sense at all.

Envy turned his head to rest his chin on his pillow. "Yeah, you better be."

Mustang chuckled softly, removing his hands from the homunculus' backside and walking away from the bed. "You can get up now," he called from what sounded like the bathroom. "Put a shirt on if you can, and then it's time for breakfast. Then we're going to Central, and I need your help with something."

Envy frowned, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. "What for?"

"I'll tell you when we get there." Mustang stepped back out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. "Go on, get dressed. We don't have all day."

Envy carefully pushed himself back onto his haunches and then moved towards the edge of the bed. It was difficult to stand up straight, but he managed, and with no small amount of wincing and hissing, he pulled one of his older, dirtier shirts down over his head.

No point in staining the new ones with this… stuff.

"How's your back?"

Envy glanced towards the door, giving Mustang a suspicious look and walking out to meet him in the hall. "Better."

"Good. For a while, I was worried I had accidentally broken something. I don't know if you recall," the colonel gave a snarky grin, "but you were bawling for at least twenty minutes last night."

Envy growled. "Shut up, matchstick."

Mustang uttered a similar sound in reply. "What did you just call me, you gender-confused palm tree?"

"I told you to can it, Glitter Gloves!"

"Watch your mouth, Bikini Boy!"

"Skirt-chasing candle-head!"

"Cross-dressing lizard!"

"World leader wannabe!"

Envy jumped as his hair was grabbed, the clip from before being yanked out none-too-gently and allowing his hair to fall back down over his shoulders. Mustang gave him a sideways sort of smirk, but then his eyes darkened.

"Don't get too comfortable," he warned, stuffing the clip into his pocket.

Envy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulders. "Wouldn't dream of it, Colonel."

Mustang didn't say a word, but Envy almost wished he had. He couldn't get a read on the man when he didn't say anything, and with the mixed signals he was receiving, the homunculus felt completely unprepared to handle whatever response might come next. Which would it be? A somewhat friendly insult? Or a slap in the face? More salve for his back? Or another whipping?

He hated the unpredictable.

Speaking of which, what could they possibly want my help with?

Envy had no idea, and until he got to Central, he had the feeling he would be left entirely in the dark.


"It looks like we're all here."

Envy sat on the far end of the couch, looking around the room at the uncomfortably familiar faces and keeping his distance from them as best he could. Edward and Alphonse were there, both of them looking older than Envy remembered, and they had brought about half a dozen suitcases with them. Havoc and Riza were both present—which was to be expected, though Envy wondered where the other dogs had run off to—the sharpshooter standing at Mustang's side while the human chimney made himself comfortable on the couch next to Envy.

"Did anybody bring him up to speed?" Edward jerked a thumb over his shoulder in Envy's general direction.

Mustang shook his head. "I figured I would tell him and review with you at the same time."

Alphonse followed up with a question of his own, his voice coming out solid and tangible, not like the echoing whisper it used to be. "Where's Major Armstrong?"

Havoc rested his feet on the coffee table and replied, "He's waiting for us down at the train station. He already got all the information from the colonel."

"Which is why we need to keep this short." Leaning forward, the colonel in question placed his elbows on his desk and laced his fingers together. "As you all know, most of the homunculi activity took place in the East, the North, and Central Command. However, we've been receiving some interesting reports from the West that look an awful lot like someone is trying to make a Philosopher's Stone."

Technically, we had activity all over the country, but I guess the worst of it did center around those three places. Envy furrowed his brow, confusion clearly showing on his face. What is the point of telling me this?

"We don't know if this is an independent act, or if this is one of the scientists who used to be in league with the homunculi trying to act outside the area of suspicion, but people are dying." Mustang narrowed his eyes slightly. "This is where you come in, Envy."

"Huh?" the captive blinked.

"You would be able to recognize the methods being used and identify the culprit once we apprehend him. There is also a chance that whoever it is, if they did work for you in the past, will be trying to make more homunculi or those white, brainless beasts you unleashed on the Promised Day. They might even try making a homunculus out of themselves in the same way Wrath was made." Mustang leaned back in his chair and spread his arms. "Basically, we don't really know whether or not we need you, but it's possible, and we can't take any chances with something this dangerous. So, you are going to go along with us and aid in the investigation. Understand?"

Envy bristled, but he nodded all the same. It wasn't as if he had any choice, and if he tried to refuse, Mustang would only bring out one of his many trump cards and shut him down.

"Do we have evidence that they might be making a homunculus?" Alphonse cupped his hand around his chin and stared at the floor thoughtfully. "Were there any signs pointing to a specific kind of homunculus?"

Mustang shook his head. "We found some evidence, yes, but there were no signs of what the intended power is. Ultimate Shield, Ultimate Eye, Ultimate Spears—it could be any or all or none of them." He nodded in Envy's general direction. "I figured you would have some thoughts on that as well."

Envy arched a brow, taking pause before offering a reply. "What did you find?"

"We found evidence of human transmutation—some damaged circles, some blood—and the number of missing persons reports in that area has almost doubled in the last month. What we can't find are the medical records showing that someone paid a toll, which is what leads us to think it could be a Philosopher's Stone." Mustang paused briefly, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "We don't have much to indicate a homunculus, but we found an unidentifiable corpse that looked like it had been torn apart from the inside. We suspect someone is trying to make a homunculus in the same way Wrath was made."

Envy snorted at the assumption, a bitter chuckle rising in his throat. "I can see why you need me. You clearly don't know a thing." Standing up, the homunculus ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh. "But it's not really something I can explain. You'll have to see it for yourself to understand how it works. Still, you have an entire train ride to ask me questions."

"Envy."

Envy stopped, turning around and ignoring every single gaze except one. "What?"

"If you make a single misstep, I will make you beg for death." Mustang narrowed his eyes. "Do we understand each other?"

Envy stared for a moment, and then his lips parted into a cocky, self-satisfied sort of grin. "I wouldn't want it any other way."