"It hurts. It burns. It's burning me…"
"It's going to be alright. Take a deep breath. It'll end soon."
Envy sobbed, twitching on the bed, unable to open his eyes for fear the movement would make his face burn even more. "It hurts so much… please, please do something…"
"Sorry, kiddo, but we can't do anything." Greed put his hands on his hips, his smirk evident from his cocky tone. "You'll just have to suck it up like a big boy."
"Shut up," the youngest homunculus hissed. "It's not fair. Why aren't you in pain? Why can't I feel better?"
"That's your jealousy showing," Greed laughed. "Poor little Envy, he can't be healthy like the rest of us. He has to wait."
"Shut up!" Envy froze, having opened his mouth too wide. "This isn't… f-funny."
Greed fell unusually silent, and then he chuckled. "I know it isn't. You're in agony, and there's no treatment or relief. You're scared and vulnerable. You've only been alive for two hours, and the only thing you've known is pain." He paused, and Envy could hear the smile in his voice. "But if you're mad at me, it'll take your mind off of the pain. So, if you don't mind, I think I'll just keep on irritating you."
Lust chuckled softly. "Greed might not have the nicest methods, but it helped me when I was created. Give it a chance."
Envy felt the bed sink next to him and cried out in pain.
"Is there anything that doesn't hurt?" Lust asked. "Anything at all?"
"I… I… there's a spot on my thigh. On the left…"
Envy tensed slightly when he felt a finger on his skin, but he soon relaxed, able to focus on the sensation and distract himself from the pain everywhere else.
"Focus on my touch… on my voice…"
Greed snorted. "Kinda hard not to, toots."
"Be quiet, Greed," she sighed.
Envy startled, pulled from the daydream by a loud whistle from somewhere close by. He looked up instinctively and met a pair of very irritated eyes, though it took his brain a moment to figure out whose eyes they were.
"Huh?" the homunculi mumbled.
"I was trying to get your attention." Mustang crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently. "You've been sitting there for nearly six hours. Do you intend to sleep anytime soon?"
Envy shook his head, yawning. "He's awake. I'll stay awake with him."
Mustang blinked in surprise and turned to look at the bed. "He is?"
"It hurts to open his eyes," was the only explanation the homunculus offered.
Mustang hummed curiously and leaned over the form on the bed. "Can you hear me?"
Envy shot the soldier a vicious glare, but he was either unseen or ignored.
"It hurts," the boy whispered, barely moving his lips. "Please… please, do something."
Mustang turned to Envy with an expectant look in his eyes, but Envy only shook his head. Mustang scowled, his expression shifting to display his suspicion, like he thought Envy was torturing the boy for fun.
"There isn't…" Envy stopped, let out a sigh, and got to his feet. "Kid, is there anywhere you don't hurt? Anywhere at all?"
"I… I…" The homunculus convulsed, drool trailing down his cheek and into his hair. "I think… my arm… my right… at the upper… the top…"
Envy walked around the bed and looked over the skin carefully. He hadn't been able to find the signature tattoo anywhere on the boy's body, but there were a few angry red marks forming a circle on the limb in question, so he would have to take a chance and hope for the best.
"What are you doing?" Mustang quirked a brow, observing from the other side of the bed.
"The only thing I can." Envy carefully reached out and placed his middle finger against the skin, rubbing in a small, circular motion. "How's that?"
"It's… g-good…"
Envy nodded. "Focus on my voice. Focus on my touch. You need to get some sleep so your body can recover. Focus on whatever you can to distract your mind from the pain."
"I can't," the boy rasped, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe.
"You don't have a choice." Envy allowed his lips to twitch up into a small smile. "You'll just have to suck it up like a big boy."
"Envy—" Mustang began a warning but was cut off by the bedridden patient.
"Y-you're a jerk…" the boy mumbled.
Envy let his smile get a little bit bigger. "I know. Focus on that. Focus on your anger instead of your pain. I know it isn't much, but it really will help."
"I… I…"
Envy looked at Mustang across the bed. "We have to think of a name for him." He dropped his gaze back down, trying to keep the boy engaged in whatever conversation he could manage to create. "Or do you already have one?"
"I don't… I don't know…"
Envy nodded, wetting his lips and trying to think of a way he could distract the other with his words. "Hmm. You're a very interesting homunculus." He paused, glancing over the body before continuing. "I was made from the essence of a specific trait of a living Philosopher's Stone. You were made with a normal Philosopher's Stone and a soulless body created through alchemy."
Mustang sat down in the chair Envy had previously occupied, clearly intending to stay for a while, and Envy inwardly questioned whether or not he was making the right move by revealing so much in front of the other. But what choice did he have?
"If you don't remember your name, then one soul didn't assume dominance over the others, which means you're different from Wrath. Still, you're not like those of us that were made from Father, either. You're almost something in between, and I would be willing to bet that your body is picking the strongest traits it can find from whatever souls are available and creating one, unique personality with it."
Mustang cleared his throat then and interjected himself into the conversation, evidently understanding what Envy was trying to do. "But you said the method used to make him was more similar to yours than Wrath's. So, if Father isn't around to offer part of himself, and it wasn't injected into an already living person, how is this boy alive?"
Envy nodded. "That's true. Without Father, you would have to have two Philosopher's Stones to do it, but it would be possible. You would put one Stone in the center of the circle with the necessary ingredients for a human body, and you would use the other one to open the portal and create a habitable body with the Stone at its center."
Mustang nodded slowly, rubbing his chin and staring intently at the wall behind Envy's head. "Then, at that point, you would have to use something to tear the body apart and damage the Stone. The Stone reacts to being broken by fixing itself, and that healing slowly extends to the body containing it. Eventually, the Stone realizes it's connected to the body, and the healing becomes a reflex."
"Exactly." Envy continued to rub at the circle absentmindedly, watching the slick chest jerk up and down at a steadily slower rate. "Because the Philosopher's Stone is the greater force, it has to accept or destroy the body first. Once that happens, the homunculus can only feel his or her body trying to expel the Stone."
Mustang gestured to the form on the bed. "That's what's happening now, then."
Envy gave a single nod, still rubbing though he was certain the boy had dozed off. "If you want to ask, go ahead," he said, knowing there was a specific reason the colonel had come to check on things.
For a moment, it seemed Mustang wouldn't take him up on his offer, but then the older male started to speak. "Who took care of you when you were made?"
Envy let out a bitter chuckle. "You assume I was taken care of. You must think better of us homunculi than you let on." He paused briefly, turning his attention from his charge to his warden. "Greed and Lust, mostly. Pride offered a little help when he was in the right mood. I helped when Gluttony and Sloth came along."
Mustang stared at him, eyes scrutinizing but not quite cold. "How could you follow your father when he had put you through that?"
"I already told you," Envy snapped. "It doesn't matter. I'm alive today because of what he did. It was excruciating, but it was better than never having existed at all. He gave me life. He was my father. What else is there?"
"Was there any love at all?" Mustang chose to answer the question with a question, the 'L' word falling from his lips so easily it made Envy's stomach churn. "Was there any affection? If you weren't paralyzed with pain, did you care for each other? Did he ever tell you he was proud? Or the he was glad he made you?"
"I don't need any of that." Envy tensed, his finger frozen against the boy's skin. "Humans need those things because they're weak. Emotions are pointless, and I don't need them."
Mustang didn't miss a beat. "You mean to tell me you have never looked at yourself in the mirror and wondered if you were worth anything? You never needed or wanted to be encouraged by those around you? If your family threw you out and despised you, you would have been fine with it simply because emotions are weak and pointless?"
Mustang got to his feet and walked around the bed, approaching the homunculus with an unreadable but unwavering expression. Envy took a step back to put more space between them, not at all liking the sudden turn the conversation had taken.
"You mean to tell me there was never a need for affirmation?" the colonel continued, stopping just a foot or so away from his prisoner. "When you took your first steps in this world, you didn't need someone to hold onto? You never once doubted who you were and what you wanted?"
Envy took another step back and hit the wall, wincing when his beaten backside objected to the contact. He didn't know if he had an answer for Mustang, but he wasn't as concerned about making a witty comeback as he was figuring out why Mustang had him cornered.
What did I do wrong? I called humans weak. I shouted at him? No, that can't be right.
"You mean to tell me," Mustang reached out and took the homunculus by the shoulders, "that never in your very lengthy lifespan," he pulled him away from the wall, "did you look at two people embracing and want that for yourself?"
Before Envy could blink, before he could even process the last phrase of the question, he found himself pressed against Mustang's chest. Two arms wrapped tightly around the smaller body, one high and one low, the limbs carefully arranged to avoid the welts and bruises. Envy held his breath, feeling the colonel's lips moving against the side of his head.
"You never went home after a successful mission, and wanted to hear your father say…" One hand wandered up to the back of Envy's head, running softly through his hair. "You did good tonight, Envy. You did exactly what I required of you, and I am very pleased with your results."
Envy choked, too horrified and confused to do or say anything. He could only stand there, staring at rich blue lapels with his mouth hanging open, hoping his brain would make sense of something soon.
Did I want those things? Of course I did, I'm Envy. I wouldn't be Envy if I didn't want what others have, so it makes sense that I wanted… affection and affirmation. Right? Right, and it wasn't just me, either. Lust, well, lusted after affection from Father, and Greed wanted approval because he wanted everything. It's part of our sin nature. It has nothing to do with emotions, it's not like we—not like I actually care about stuff like that. It's just the sin nature in me. That's what it is. I can't control that. That's not weakness.
"It's okay to cry, Envy."
Envy recoiled immediately, tearing himself from the man's grip despite the pain it caused and pushing himself into the wall as much as he could. "Stop. What is wrong with you?" He shook his head, scanning the man before him with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing? You hate me, so even if I did want—what you said, why would I want it from you?"
Mustang dropped his arms to his sides, his expression entirely neutral despite the words that had come out of his mouth just seconds earlier. "I have to figure out what's going on inside that head of yours. This is the best way to do it."
"You could have just asked," the homunculus fumed, fists shaking at his sides. "You didn't have to go and—and do that to me."
Mustang arched a curious brow. "Oh? You didn't like me manipulating you, then. Why?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?" Envy shot back, his volume steadily increasing as his breath came in shorter, more frequent gasps.
"Did you not like it because it hurt?" the colonel questioned.
"How dare you? Envy shook, painfully aware of what the man was trying to do. "Don't condescend to me. How dare you?"
"Does it make you feel embarrassed when I do that? Do you grow unsure of yourself?" Mustang was relentless, determined to drag every dark and dirty emotion the homunculus had developed out into the light. "You get defensive because you're insecure, is that it?"
"Shut up," Envy growled, bracing his arms against the wall and pushing himself back despite the fact that it was physically impossible to retreat any further. "I started the Ishvalan Civil War, in case you forgot. I slaughtered thousands of innocent people without batting an eyelash—I thought it was fun, I laughed, and you think I have feelings?"
"Why are you so adamant that you don't?" Mustang retorted, unfazed. "Are you ashamed of them? Do they frighten you?"
"Stop it." Envy was spitting the words now, straining not to scream in the man's face. "I know what you're trying to do. Stop it right now. Leave me alone."
"So, that's it." Mustang smirked.
Envy froze, realizing his mistake.
Mustang crossed his arms over his chest.
Envy let his gaze drop to the floor, mortified, heart hammering against his ribcage.
"You're afraid. Your father and your body betrayed you, and you were thrown into the den of your worst enemies. You were forced to feel things you had never felt before, because you had never been made to. You had never needed hope to keep you going. You had never met anyone who wanted to make you fear them and was actually strong enough to do it."
"Stop." It came out choked, his stomach twisting into a knot.
"You had never been alone. You had never been abandoned." Mustang drew closer, lowering his voice but raising its intensity. "You never wondered what your next step was going to be, because Father planned your entire life ahead of time. You were secure. You were certain. You were safe."
"Stop." Envy smacked the wall with an open palm. "Stop it!"
"You're like a spoiled prince, so arrogant and strong and sophisticated, but only because he has an army and a castle to hide behind. Only because he has a powerful king to save him from whatever threats he can't handle." Mustang braced his arms against the wall and leaned down to look him in the eye. "But now, things are different. You've been stripped away to nothing. You've been debased and humiliated, tortured and abused. You've been whipped like a common criminal and chastised like a child, and you don't know what to do with yourself."
"Stop it." Envy felt his throat close, struggling to maintain eye contact. "You're wrong."
"Without your power, your siblings, your manipulation of the military, your father—without everything you used to rely on, you're nothing. Even worse, you have nothing to live for. There's no goal to strive towards and achieve, nothing to keep you going. You could try to escape, but what's the point? You'll live out the rest of your life as a miserable peasant, trapped in a world where you don't belong, unable to tell a single soul what you really are."
"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about. Shut up!"
If Mustang felt the spit hit his face when Envy shouted, he gave no indication, continuing as though he had never been interrupted at all. "Your security and certainty are gone. You aren't safe anymore, and that terrifies you. You feel some familiar things, like anger and hatred and disgust, but it doesn't stop there. You're hurt, and confused, and alone, and grieving, and scared, and you aren't supposed to feel those things. You don't know what to do, and there's no one to help you understand what is going on in your own head."
"No." Envy shuddered. "No, stop."
"You want something, but you don't know what, and you have no one to reach out to. You're like a child lost in a busy marketplace, standing in the middle of all that crowded chaos and hoping your parents will come and save you. But no one will, because there's no one left."
Envy shut his eyes. "Stop!"
"So, also like a child, you play pretend. You make believe you're still the person we fought before everything fell apart, but you can't be him. Not now, not ever again. Because he didn't know fear, and he didn't know shame. He didn't know what it was like to lose everything. He didn't know what it was like to look into the eyes of someone he despised and demeaned and hope against hope that they would show him even the slightest bit of kindness because that's how afraid he was."
Envy dropped his head, eyes burning and chest heaving and temperature rising.
"I pulled you into my arms, and I told you that you did a good job, and you liked it, didn't you? For a moment, you enjoyed the feeling of someone holding onto you, and once you've felt that, you can't go back. So, what do you do now?"
Envy clamped his hands over his ears. "Stop it, Mustang, just stop it!"
Mustang reached out and grasped a wrist in each hand, forcing the shaky hands away and continuing in a somewhat louder tone. "Well, what are you going to do? Who are you? What do you want?"
"Shut up!" Envy bent his knees, trying to pull down on his arms enough to break free, shaking his head furiously. "Shut up, shut up! I don't want to hear this anymore. I understand! I understand, so stop!"
"You're alone, you're afraid, you're weak, you're helpless, and you have nothing to live for. So tell me, Envy. Why are you here? What is the point of you?"
Envy screamed.
It was the most pitiful, heart-wrenching cry the homunculus had heard since the Ishvalan War of Extermination. It wasn't even a cry, it was a wail, like that of a ghost or specter. It came from the gut and throat and chest, powered by raw emotion and followed by a series of strangled sobs.
Mustang loosened his hold ever-so-slightly, and Envy took the opportunity to close the gap between them, seizing the soldier by his lapels and beating angrily against his chest.
"I hate you," the captive sobbed. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
Mustang did nothing. He said nothing. He just stood there and let Envy hit him.
"I h-hate you… so much…" Envy wheezed, dropping his head onto Mustang's chest and shaking his head back and forth. "I hate you… I hate you… it's not fair."
Mustang spoke softly but evenly, ever the detached professional. "What's not fair?"
"I want it." Envy struck the colonel in the chest again, throwing both fists against him over and over. "You're all so… you have your families, and your friends, and your race, and your countries, and your marriages, and your siblings, and your subordinates, and—and I have nothing, and it's not fair!" He slammed his full weight against the officer, forcing him to take a step back. "It's not fair. I want it. I want it!"
There was a pause. "Of course you do. You're Envy."
Envy only hit him again, tears of frustration and pain running down his cheeks.
"I don't suppose that helps," the colonel continued in a somewhat softer tone.
Envy sobbed again, trying and failing to swallow his cries, or at least muffle them in the military jacket. "It hurts." He withdrew his head and slammed it down again. "It hurts to want." He did it again, pulling on the man's jacket as if he could physically tear what he wanted from the soldier's body. "Why? Why does it hurt so much? Why does it hurt so much? I hate it."
Mustang didn't say anything, and the two lapsed into a relative silence for several minutes. Envy shook, his white-knuckle grip on the blue cloth never once letting up. He struggled to breathe, choking on his cries and swallowing as many of his tears as he could.
Then Mustang heaved a sigh and carefully looped his arms around the weeping captive, settling them the same way he had the first time, which caused the smaller male to tense up.
"I hate you." But Envy didn't move away. "I hate you."
"I know." Mustang rested his chin on top of the other's head. "I hate you, too. But I believe I told you about empathy before, didn't I?"
Envy quaked, shrinking in the colonel's arms, clawing into the man's skin with a vengeance. "What do I do?" he whispered, another shudder tearing through him. "What do I do? Tell me what to do."
Mustang let out another sigh. "I can't do that."
"Why not? You always tell me what to do. Why can't you tell me this time?"
"That's something you have to figure out for yourself," the man replied softly. "That's a part of being alive, and as much as you might hate the thought, that's part of being human."
Envy let out another sob, his hands slowly releasing their grip on the lapels and travelling downwards until they were hidden between the two bodies. He gripped the jacket tightly, turning his head so his cheek was pressed against the quickly dampening fabric.
"Envy, it's going to be alright."
Envy shook his head, shoulders slouching as he practically folded in on himself. "No, it won't. I have nothing. You're right. You're right. I have nothing. I'm nothing."
"Envy." Mustang carded a hand through the tangled locks. "It really is okay to cry."
Envy keened softly, completely abandoning the idea of grabbing his captor and choosing instead to flatten his body as much as he could and press himself into the other's arms.
"I might not like you, Envy, but I won't judge you for suffering, and there's no one else here to see." Mustang trailed his fingers through Envy's hair again. "I won't tell anyone, and I won't say a word. I swear on my silver pocketwatch. You can trust me."
There was a beat of silence, and then the words started to sink in. Envy took a shuddering breath and let out a few sobs, testing the waters and trying to decide whether or not he wanted to go through with it. It was a small surrender, but it felt good, and it gave way to a few larger ones. He gasped down air, the saliva on his mouth and the tears on his face unacknowledged, the cries slowly growing in volume and intensity as he realized just how cleansing it felt.
Mustang didn't move, keeping his arms around the other but staying true to his promise and not saying a single word the entire time. Envy didn't know if it was that merciful silence that triggered it, or if it was the overwhelming relief he felt, but for whatever reason, he finally let go.
"I want it," he sobbed, pushing himself against the soldier as hard as he could, the ache in his chest overpowering his stinging ego. "It isn't fair, I want it. I w-want it. Why can't I have it?"
Mustang didn't answer, keeping to his vow of silence.
"It's not fair… I just want…" His cries began to soften, fatigue replacing the pain and anger that had previously taken a hold of him. "I just want…"
Mustang ran his hand through the other's hair again, massaging the back of his neck.
"I want to stop hurting."
Unjudging silence was all Mustang offered in return.
"Lust… Greed… F-Father… I want you…"
Mustang squeezed him a little tighter.
"I want my family. I want to go home."
Mustang inhaled, his breath rushing past the homunculus' ear as he prepared to break his promise. Envy tensed, not knowing what the man was going to say and feeling a sick twist in his gut, like no matter what it was, he knew he wouldn't be prepared.
You liar.
There was another slight squeeze, the soldier actually putting some effort into the hug for the first time since it began. Envy held his breath, still and silent, waiting for the trap to spring.
"I know you do," Mustang said, his voice hardly above a whisper. "And that's okay."
Envy shook his head, gritting his teeth as the burning in his eyes returned.
"It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to miss your family. It's okay to want them back." Mustang pressed the homunculus' head to his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. "It's okay to hurt. It's okay to want to go home. It's okay to need help." He ran his hand through the young homunculus' hair again, holding him tightly and whispering into his ear. "It's okay to be human, Envy. It really, truly is."
And finally, Envy broke.
