Chapter 10

Maes stared distantly ahead, aimlessly gazing at the red gleam of the raindrops that slid down his car's window, reflecting the red light that kept him from moving forward. His hands gripped the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white, but they had long since gone numb, making him oblivious to the strain.

He had properly bandaged the shallow yet terrifying wound on Roy's neck to the best of his ability, which looked worse than it was, as far as he could tell. He couldn't even begin to imagine why the wound was so shallow; nothing major in the neck had been struck but there was more than enough blood to leave a terrifying first glance. But leaving such thoughts for later, he then began the nerve-wrecking drive to his supposedly deceased friend's house as Edward tried to explain everything that had led up to this moment. He was certain that the things he had been told, the mental images that had been placed in his mind, would likely haunt him for the rest of his life, remaining long after this was behind him.

To think that Roy had been trapped underground in some sort of re-purposed crypt all this time... He was, quite literally, right under their noses but they were all too busy mourning to see it. But how could they? It seemed like Ed had stumbled across this secret by pure luck.

The coincidence nauseated him, but he couldn't stop himself from over-analyzing it. He was so close. He could have been standing directly above Roy as he suffered underground, and he had no idea. Logically, there was no way for him to have known any better, but the current state of his mind left little room for logic.

Based on Ed's reluctant description, finding Roy before he bled out appeared to be nothing short of a miracle. He had already been unconscious, lying in his own blood, covered in a plethora of injuries that the blond was unable to count. Locked in a small, cell-like room that was completely empty besides the maddening sprawl of bloody scribbles congesting in one corner of the room. When asked, Edward said he didn't have time to read much of it, besides a few choice words, which just so happen to include both of their names. Based on that, something told Maes that he didn't even want to know what the rest of it said. He couldn't understand why any of that was there when the only person capable of answering was out of commission at the moment, but none of it bode well.

The light turned green and Maes removed his foot from the brake as he simultaneously took a deep breath. The car steadily began to accelerate as the rain continued to drizzle.

He honestly wasn't sure how much more of this he could hear.

"What happened next?" he willed himself to ask, ignoring the vengeful twists in his stomach and the reluctance he heard in his own voice.

Edward, in the passenger seat besides him, was leaning against the door with his arms folded limply around himself, watching the scenery pass by as if he expected something to jump out at any given moment.

"I started to drag him out, but something was following me. It sounded like some kind of animal, but I never actually saw it. I just kept running until I climbed out and closed the passage behind me." His tone was fairly calm, but Maes could still pick out the unsettled whisper that hung behind each word. "And then I somehow managed to drag him to your place."

"... I see," he muttered, unable to say any more. His throat tightened with every word the kid spoke and his mouth had long since gone dry despite the moisture in the air. A moment of silence passed as the car drove onward down a thankfully empty street.

Maes spared a glance in the rear-view mirror, catching only a glimpse of Roy's unconscious form laying in the back seat.

"How's he doing?" the lieutenant colonel asked as his eyes shifted back to the road, slowing down to make a turn.

Edward shifted to look at Roy, then back at Maes. "That's the fifth time you've asked since we got in the car. Just like last time, he's still alive." Something in his voice suggested he was making an effort to keep a snappish undertone out of his words. Maes didn't hold it against him, knowing that the kid had been through far too much that night, and was still incredibly on-edge in spite of his efforts to swallow it. Edward settled back into his seat as he did before, his examining eyes remained on Maes. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but remained quiet.

The lieutenant colonel sighed as he slowed down for another red light. The tapping of water falling onto the exterior of the car was the only sound to fill the air for another few seconds, lulling his straying thought into the rhythmic drum, somehow helping him to organize them to the slightest degree.

"I know," he replied at last, at a loss for what else to say. "I- I can't wrap my head around this. It's a lot to take in," he finished with a wry chuckle, then allowed the dour smile to fall from his face with little resistance. "He's sitting in the back seat of my car- alive- but I still can hardly believe it."

"Yeah," Ed agreed tersely, staring out the front window, mind turning in directions that Maes could only guess.

"Did you... see anything that could tell us anything about who did this to him?" he asked at last, mostly out of a desire to fill the silence than feeling like there was any chance of getting a positive response.

"No, not really." Just as he had expected. "But whoever it is, they would need to have some authority to get away with hiding people in a crypt underneath the military's cemetery."

Maes nodded somberly as the car began to continue towards their objective. "It's possible that whoever was responsible is within the military, but I can't imagine anyone going to such lengths. Or why, for that matter. Any of Roy's enemies would much rather see him dead, then locked away underground." There were many heartless people in the higher rankings of the military, but it was difficult to picture any of them do something so sadistic and inhumane. But then again, he would keep the possibility on the table in case he was giving them too much credit.

"I guess the only way to find out is to wait for Mustang to wake up," Edward muttered, twisting his body to look back at the quiescent man once again. "I wonder how long that'll take," he added in a quieter tone, seemingly unaware that he had spoken aloud at all.

Maes wanted to assure the kid that Roy was tough and he would wake up by morning and they'd be able to solve this quickly, but he honestly didn't know. Being hopeful was one thing, but it was an entirely different matter to lie to Edward, as well as himself.

He couldn't decide if it was better to state his uncertainty, focus on his confidence that Roy would pull through, or express his fear that he wouldn't. Maes settled for keeping his mouth shut.

Edward's recounting of his story took up the majority of the short drive, somehow still allowing it to feel like an eternity. Maes pulled his car alongside the sidewalk in front of Roy's small city home as he had countless times before, noting that he hadn't gone there with as much fear in his heart since the end of the civil war when he had to watch as Roy slowly deteriorated as the guilt chewed away at him. He never knew when he would walk in to see his friend holding a gun to his head or seconds away from snapping everything he owned to a crisp.

This was… better than that, but still miles worse than what he'd prefer.

He shifted the car's gear into park and leaned back into his seat. He gazed past the blond towards the cold, empty house, feeling heavy and resigned despite knowing that he should have been happy.

He was happy, of course. He was overjoyed to discover his best friend was alive, but the longer he was given to think about it, the more uncertainties plagued his mind. Roy was breathing, but faintly. Maes had done all he could for his wounds and had no idea what kind of pain he had been enduring thus far; there was still the possibility that he wouldn't pull through thanks to an unseen infection or blood loss, seeing as they had no medical assistance besides the basics that he had learned at the academy, but he seemed stable. The matter of Roy's survival aside, the entire situation was incredibly grim and he had absolutely no idea what they were going to do once Roy woke up.

And of course, that wasn't to mention that if he didn't wake soon, they'd have a whole new set of problems on their hands, seeing as the man was already malnourished. Going to a hospital would draw too much attention. He considered approaching a doctor personally to get some assistance if needed, assuming they could find one who would keep a secret. Knox, maybe...

But one thing at a time, he supposed. Telling himself to focus only on the present was at least slightly reassuring, but the many obstacles that stood dauntingly in his path were difficult to ignore for very long.

Edward undid his seat belt and gazed up at the dark sky, cogs turning. With one silent glance towards Maes, he climbed out of the car, prompting the lieutenant colonel to do the same.

The rain had calmed down considerably and the air was still thick with humidity despite the cool breeze that simultaneously swept through the area. He wasn't wearing anything more than sweatpants and a t-shirt, but had already been drenched from his first walk out into the rain earlier that night.

Ed was in a similar state, having given his coat to Roy. While he was in his usual outfit for the most part despite the early hour, he hadn't thought to bring his black jacket and now only had the sleeveless shirt to protect him from the poor weather.

Maes walked around to the other side of the car as Ed opened the door to the back seat, both staring down at the motionless man. The red coat looked odd on him; a strange burst of color to his otherwise pale and sullen comportment. It only managed to further drown out his appearance and remind Maes of the blood that had coated him earlier, which he had only partially been able to clean away. His brow furrowed at the thought as he exhaled deeply.

"Alright, let's get him inside," he breathed and began to shift through his key ring to find the one that belonged to Roy's house, that had somehow found itself in his possession. "I'll carry him; you open the door." Maes handed the kid the correct key, which he grabbed without a moment of hesitation and ran up to the house.

With Ed occupied, Maes turned back towards his car and leaned down to reach inside. He slid his arms underneath Roy's and began to pull him out, flinching at the lack of resistance, certain that the man had not eaten a full meal in weeks. He then shifted his position and put another arm under his friend's knees as the other remained behind his back. He heaved Roy up bridal-style, knowing that he would have thrown a fit if he was actually conscious to see what was happening. The lack of a response only further upset him, but he quickly reminded himself that it at least was not permanent.

Hopefully.

Maes turned and followed Edward up towards the house, who had just pulled the door open and stood out of the way so he could carry Roy out of the rain. As he walked inside, it struck Maes just how surreal the situation was. By then, it was clear to him that it would take more than an hour or two for him to accept that this was reality.

Just as it had the last time he entered the abandoned home, he was hit with the scent of dust and lack of care. He stood just beyond the doorway for a moment, allowing his eyes to shift over the dark, familiar living room. Edward flipped on a light switch as he followed the man inside, closing the door behind him.

Maes squint his eyes as the light filled the room with a single flicker. There were a few cardboard boxes laying around the corners, filled with various keepsakes- which Roy never had many of- while the large pieces of furniture had been cocooned in many layers of plastic wrap. The master bedroom was given the same treatment if memory served, and the mattress of the bed had been removed and leaned against one of the walls. With that in mind, Maes asked Ed to remove the plastic wrap from the couch instead of dealing with the bed.

Edward swiftly transmuted his arm and sliced the wrapping in half with the blade, throwing the remains of the thin plastic into a bundle behind the couch. Maes slowly lowered Roy down and stepped back, taking one look, then shifted a pillow behind his friend's head, only now considering the possibility of staining the couch with blood. Perhaps he should have left the plastic on, but he had bigger priorities at the moment.

He and Ed stood back and examined the man, both slacking their shoulders as the worst part of their journey was officially over.

"… Now what?" the young alchemist asked at last.

"Now-" he began, realizing once he started that he wasn't sure what to do now. It was still some ungodly hour of the morning, so the best thing to do would be to let Roy get as much sleep as possible, not like it would have been possible to wake him anyway. "Now we wait." He collapsed into an armchair that faced the couch, lacking the strength to remove the plastic wrapping just yet.

It occurred to him just as he collapsed that he needed to get Roy some clean clothes. But long before he could get anywhere near convincing his languid legs to stand, his gaze drifted over to the blond.

Edward remained where he stood in the middle of the living room, eyes shifting between the two older men. The way he pursed his lip and absently curled his hands into loose fists were clear signs that something was bothering him.

"What's wrong?"

The blond hesitated, allowing his eyes to remain on the colonel for several moments as he organized his thoughts. "I gotta get back to Al soon. He doesn't know any of this happened and will start to worry if I take too long."

Maes immediately accepted that he would be spending night alone with Roy, relieved that he had already covered his bases by telling Gracia he wouldn't be back until the next day. "Alright, I understand."

"How long are you going to stay here?" Ed asked without hiding his concern.

"I'm not sure," he admitted slowly. "It could be a while before Roy wakes up. We may have to take turns watching him."

"I figured," Edward sighed and ran a weary hand through his bangs. "Man, I have no idea how I'm going to bring this up to Al..."

"Ah, speaking of that," Maes began as he sat up straighter in the armchair, the plastic squeaking as he did so. "We need to be careful about who we tell until we know what the story is. We don't know who we can trust."

"Except Al."

A small, wry smile tugged at Maes' lips, but he lacked the strength to complete it. "Right."

"And what about the rest of the team?"

There wasn't a fiber in his body that suspected any of them could have taken part in Roy's imprisonment, but letting that many people in on this could prove to be dangerous. "The walls have ears," he explained plainly, then slowly shook his head. "I'm not sure how many people we should tell just yet. I'll think about it though. No need to rush into anything before Roy even wakes up. We need to be careful."

Unfortunately, he still had to go to work on Monday and pretend as if the answer to all of his problems didn't appear as if by magic. He had one day to figure out what to do.

"How long until you're expected to show up at HQ again?" Maes asked after a thoughtful moment passed between the two.

"I should still have about a week before I use up all of my vacation time."

"You think you could stay here Sunday night?"

"Yeah. But what about Al?"

Maes leaned forward and intertwined his fingers in thought as he stared through them at the ground. He knew that Alphonse would want to see Roy as soon as he learned that the colonel was alive, but he wasn't exactly the most discrete person in the world. "We need to lay as low as possible just in case. Let's just see if anything changes before we bring more people here."

But even as he said that, Maes was already thinking about when the best time to call Riza was. It wouldn't be right to keep it from her or the rest of the team for long, but he wasn't yet sure how to go about it. If he called, he'd have to communicate through code, but waiting until he saw her in person strung a cord of impatience. But then again, he had the whole night to think about it, seeing as it was unlikely that he would be getting any sleep any time soon.

Edward nodded slowly as he turned to watch Roy for a moment longer. The silence stretched on as he absorbed the sight before he forcefully uncurled his fists and looked away as if the single motion required a tremendous amount of effort.

"Okay. I'm going to go back to the dorms."

"Alright," he breathed in response, watching as the kid turned towards the door. "Good night."

Edward was only able to respond with a wry chuckle and a tired "yeah" before he opened and door, casting one last thoughtful glance at Roy's unconscious form, then closed the door behind him, leaving the two alone in the dark, dusty house.

With a great exhale, Maes readjusted his position in the armchair, setting his heavy eyes on his best friend, mind already churning with thoughts of the uncertain future.

Only an hour ago, he was laying in his bed thinking about how he would never see his friend again, and now he was staring at the very same man. It was amazing; too amazing for words. But due to the circumstances, he was unable to properly enjoy this would-be happiness.

He thought back to the disturbing room Edward had reluctantly described to him. The place that judging by the kid's observations, Roy had spent the past few weeks in. The mental picture that had been painted was horrific enough; Maes could only imagine how shocked Ed was when he turned on the light to see scribbled, bloody words and distorted transmutation circles littering the walls.

Maes would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't afraid to even wonder what Roy was thinking when he was in there. What drove him to that? The circles made sense, as he was probably trying desperately to escape, but what was so important that he had to harm his own hands to write down their names, as well as other seemingly random words? And why had none of the transformations worked? Sure, it was doubtful that Roy had much recent practice with drawing them by hand, but someone as skilled as he should have been able to escape with ease.

His eyes automatically fell onto his friend's hands, which fell limply at his side as he remained motionless on the couch. Maes then stood from his armchair only to kneel down besides the sofa to examine his hands more closely.

He noticed the rushed bandaging earlier, but within the flurry of chaos, he wasn't able to really think about any of Roy's wounds besides the one on his neck. Pulling over the collection of household medical supplies he had gathered, he then began to untie the damp, red fabric and discard it on the coffee table.

It was worse than he had hoped.

Every finger on his right hand was swollen and discolored as if it had been crushed, and his knuckles were covered with scabbing blood from old wounds. Edward said there was nothing else in the room, so the next likely answer was that someone had purposefully done this to Roy. As he held the damaged hand gently in his own, he fought to keep his grip from tightening in rage at the thought of his friend being beaten and abused. He only stared into space for a moment, realizing that he finally had a new direction to look into to find whoever was responsible for this.

He almost wanted to laugh.

Whatever vile monster who decided to imprison Roy and feign his death was no longer in the lead. Not only had Roy been rescued, but as soon as he woke up, he would be able to give him something that would help the search. Learning that they had not chosen to murder Roy did nothing to lessen his desire to find the guilty party and make them pay.

But all in a matter of time, Maes reminded himself. Roy still needed his attention.

Shaking himself out of his trance, the lieutenant colonel slowly turned his friend's hand over to examine his palm, and physically paused at the sight of it. Ed told him that Roy's hands were worn down, but he hadn't realized it was to this extent.

Almost none of the outer layer of skin remained. His palm and fingers were highly irritated and red, and scrubbed to the point that they oozed with blood in some areas. The makeshift bandage had stopped the flow for the time being, but he could see it was eager to continue unless he covered the wounds again. The skin on his fingertips almost looked torn, as though they had been mercilessly been clawing against a rough surface for days on end, which was probably much closer to the truth than he wanted to accept.

And now that he thought to check, Roy's fingernails were worn down and ragged with blood drying underneath. It was difficult to say if he was trying to scratch into the walls with his nails even when his fingers began to bleed, or if he cut up his hands specifically to make markings with blood, but he supposed such dismal thoughts didn't matter at this point.

Keeping his own hands steady was an arduous task as he unrolled the gauze and tightly wrapped it around Roy's right hand, hoping his fingers weren't broken. When he proceeded to replace the wrapping around his left hand, he discovered with no surprise that it was just as bad as the right. His body unwillingly trembled with every new injury he found as his mind buzzed uselessly with both anger and fear. Maes was unable to do much for the majority of it besides dab on some antibiotics.

That was, until his eyes fell Roy's right arm. The blood had stuck the fabric of his sleeve to his skin, masking the true severity of the wound. But as Maes carefully pulled back the tears, he could clearly make out what distinctly looked to be a large bite mark. It appeared that the injury had not been touched in several days, unlike Roy's hands, so the worst of the bleeding was thankfully over. The torn holes in his forearm had not healed, but they were attempting to. The scabbing hadn't gotten far thanks to the lack of treatment, but at least that meant it wasn't infected- yet.

Before finding this, he had given up on guessing the origins of each individual wound. But now a bite? Was he being locked up with wild animals? Surely Ed would have noticed if there were any clues in that room to assume that. If Roy really was alone in that room, then did they ever drag him out or temporarily throw a feral dog in there with him? And why?

Were they torturing him for information?

But for what reason?

God, the uncertainty was killing him.

For the millionth time that night, Meas desperately hoped that Roy would wake up soon as he continued to tend to the countless injuries.

By the time he believed he had covered everything, the colonel still had not moved a muscle, even when coated with antibiotics that would have had a veteran hissing in pain. He just continued to lay there as if he really was dead.

Exhausted and drained, Maes leaned his back on the armrest of the couch as he remained seated on the floor, neck turned to watch his friend. He knew not to expect any movement, but he still couldn't look away. After everything he had just done and gone through, his eyes could still not believe what he was looking at.

One of his bandaged hands hung off the side of the couch, almost as if he was inviting Maes to take it once again. Hesitant to touch the man when he looked so painfully fragile, he eventually grabbed hold of Roy's wrist and searched for a pulse. It was still faint, but he could feel the blood pumping through his veins. It was the confirmation he needed to release a great breath of air that he had not realized he was holding.

But even after confirming it, Maes couldn't bring himself to let go. He felt like a child who was starved of comfort. It was as if everything would fall apart if he dared to let go. It was silly, he told himself, but his grip refused to weaken.

He was terrified.

As much as Maes just wanted to be happy and enjoy this overwhelming relief, discovering Roy's survival had brought along many more concerns that now weighed heavily on his mind, but at least not as heavily as his death once did.

One of his few comforting thoughts was that he did not have to figure this all out alone. He would call Riza as soon as morning broke, Ed would return later the next night, they would eventually include Alphonse and the rest of the team, and of course, the help that Roy himself would surely provide as soon as he opened his eyes.

Until then, Maes only had to focus on ensuring that his friend could function properly.

He shifted his weight on the floor and lightly held Roy's beaten hand in both of his own, praying for some movement- something that said he was fighting to regain consciousness. Anything that would promise that it would get better.

But there was nothing.

Maes lowered the side of his head to the edge of the couch, leaning against it lethargically as his energy was sapped, dubious thoughts racing through his mind, injecting a mute terror into his heart. He couldn't help but think of how unprepared he was for this and was too trapped by the situation to resolve it.

The line he toed was far too thin for comfort.

If Roy didn't wake up soon or if one of his many gashes got infected, Maes had no idea what they would do. There were powerful people who would be looking for him as soon as they discovered he was missing, if they hadn't already. If Roy would be at risk, then he had to remain hidden. But he couldn't justify sacrificing his health or even his very life in order to do that.

Maes closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose, hands unyielding around Roy's. He willed his brain to push these thoughts aside for the time being in a vain hope that he could find comfort in the pulse of his best friend, and finally get some rest.

As soon as the clock hit six in the morning, Maes had to restrain himself from immediately picking up the phone to call Riza. Surely even she would sleep in on a Sunday, especially with all that has happened.

Somehow, he managed to kill another two hours by staring at Roy, the empty fridge, and his own eyelids. When eight struck, he finally allowed himself to dial in her number.

No answer.

He impatiently waited another hour, feeling the effects of getting so little sleep plow into him at full force. The lieutenant colonel still knew that there was little hope of him getting anymore rest, especially now that he automatically felt concerned for Riza as well.

Nothing to worry about; she was just getting some extra sleep. Good for her.

A quarter past nine, he called again with no answer.

He was feeling genuinely worried now but lacking the power to do much about it. Before he could consider starting a full-blown search party, he had to remind himself that she was fine, and Roy was not. Whatever was keeping her away from her phone could not possibly be more alarming than the surprise that awaited him outside of his apartment building earlier that morning.

The idea of calling someone else to check in on her occurred to him, but at the same time, he was well aware that the recent events were probably getting to his head, causing him to overreact. He needed to calm down. Roy was still stable, but he couldn't shake the worry that the man's heart would stop beating the moment he took his eyes off of him.

So he willed himself to sit back down after pacing for an unknown amount of time, and he began to think about what to do next yet again.

"Idiot," Lust muttered as Envy ground his teeth together, glaring at the empty room.

"Shut up," he growled, mind churning to figure out how in the hell Mustang managed to escape. There was absolutely no way for anyone but himself to make it out of that sealed room, and yet that human was nowhere to be seen.

It took Envy longer than he would admit to realize what had happened. He passed by a few hours ago and figured Mustang was still too afraid of him to make a sound. He didn't have the time to antagonize him further, but later decided to go in just to make sure he was still alive, only to see that he was gone. Envy wasn't even able to admire the maddening scribbles that were etched into the walls with blood thanks to this setback. Otherwise, he would have loved to mock Mustang for whatever he deemed worthy to write down.

But instead, he had to go out and hunt that pathetic human down.

What an amazing waste of time. He would be sure to pay him back for this setback by doubling or maybe even tripling the agony he planned to cause.

First things first.

Ignoring Lust's judgmental glower, he stepped into the harshly lit cell as she stayed back with her arms folded. He approached the thin, drying puddle of blood that was left in the center, noticing a small object caked in the red liquid. Kneeling down, the homunculus picked it up and recognized it to be one of the handles to the dirty old sink, of all things. He glanced past it to confirm his suspicions, seeing that the sink was indeed missing a handle.

Well, that explained his penmanship, he thought as he glanced over to the bloodstained wall and the various words and names that were hastily written there. Based on Mustang's failure to draw proper transmutation circles, it was difficult to believe that alchemy was his method of escape. As much as Envy hated to admit it, the only other solution was that someone from the outside had let him out. Although there were no signs of a circle, the lock would have been nearly impossible to undo without it. However, there was an answer to that as well.

"How the hell did he get past the chimeras?" he grumbled to himself, unfortunately loudly enough for Lust to hear.

"Don't be dense; you know exactly how," she commented from behind, her voice vexingly calculated as she quietly blamed him for this. Because she was right; he did know how.

His only response was a baleful grumble from the back of his throat as he leered down at the handle before dropping it back into the blood.

The chimeras that guarded their elaborate tunnel system were primary congested near the center, closest to the middle of Central, and closest to Father. The crypt that he had sectioned off for his little pet projects were further towards the outer layer of tunnels, where there weren't nearly as many chimeras to keep outsiders out. Perhaps one or two of the closest animals noticed the intruders presence, but they didn't make enough of an uproar for Envy to notice at the time. He assumed that no one with any sense would force their way into the hidden entrance in the mausoleum. An oversight on his part, but Envy wasn't about to give Lust the satisfaction of hearing him admit it.

"You remember what I told you before?" Lust asked, though her voice lacked any questioning lilt as she broke through his thoughts. His scowl deepened. "Clean up the mess you've caused."

"Yeah, you don't have to remind me," he snapped before deciding to take a different approach. Envy stood up and looked over his shoulder, slapping on a confident smirk. "I have it taken care of. I think I already know who's to blame, and I'll be sure to let him know why it's a bad idea to get in our way."

The vengeful grin that occupied his visage widened when she turned away from him, as he immediately began to entertain the many different ways he could go about this. And if it was really that Fullmetal kid that had interfered as he assumed, then Envy was sure to have a wonderful time making them both suffer for the inconvenience.

Now that things are starting to pick up, I realize that there are a lot of small details I need to cover. So if there's anything it seems like I've missed, it's possible that it's something that won't be addressed until later due to lack of room. I don't want to shove too much into each chapter. ;u;

Thanks for reading!