Something was clacking, emitting a sound of metal striking against metal that was not high enough in pitch to be utensils or clashing swords. He could feel the world rumbling beneath him, the smooth tabletop vibrating against his face. Scents of food and drink filled the room—a train car, he realized, not a room—and there seemed to be rather lighthearted conversation travelling between the passengers.

"Aww, look at that. I wish I had a camera."

They better not be talking about me. Though he wasn't sure who else they would be talking about, unless someone else had fallen asleep on a train ride they didn't remember boarding in the first place. In fact, he didn't even remember waking up in the morning. The last thing he remembered was—

Oh.

"Yes, because that's so photogenic."

Envy stirred then, figuring he might as well let them know he was awake. If he listened too long and let something he shouldn't have known slip later on, he would no doubt be accused of lying, and he didn't want to take that chance.

"Envy, are you awake?"

Lifting his head, the young homunculus forced his eyes open and looked to his left, where Mustang sat with a raised brow, patiently awaiting the answer to his question. Envy didn't have the brainpower to give him a sarcastic answer—come on, he was staring right at the man, clearly he was awake—so he settled for a lopsided nod instead.

"How'd we get on the train?" the homunculus slurred, trying and failing to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"We boarded it." Havoc grinned, chewing idly on a toothpick.

Mustang exhaled softly, tapping the side of his coffee cup. "You and the other homunculus were out cold, so we carried you. We figured you could use the sleep."

Envy looked across the table, spying the redheaded creation with his face pressed against the window, a small stream of drool coming out of his mouth. He snorted, laying his own head back down on the table and heaving a sigh.

"We saved some breakfast for you," Alphonse said, pushing a covered plate down the table towards him.

Envy blinked slowly and then straightened up once more, taking the lid off of the dish and blindly feeling around for a fork. "Thanks." He wound up repeating himself when Mustang handed him the utensil he was too lazy to look for.

"We were discussing what to do with the homunculus." Mustang took a sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes on the subject of discussion while he spoke. "We can't turn him over to the science department. They'll cut him to pieces, and I think he's had enough of that. Of course, those of us who still work for the military can't hide him in our homes, so we were discussing the possibility of him living with Alphonse."

Envy nodded slowly and stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth, mulling over the idea of his half-brother living with Alphonse. From what he understood, the younger Elric had been travelling around and spending a large portion of his time in Xing. The new homunculus would certainly be better off as far away from Amestris and its military as possible, and Alphonse would know enough about alchemy and human transmutation to keep him in good condition.

Humming, Envy took another bite and shrugged. "Just ask him what he wants to do when he wakes up." He paused then, looking around the table and curling his lips into a smirk when he saw their startled expressions. "Or did you already forget that he's a person with wants and desires and a mind of his own?"

Mustang cleared his throat. "Of course not." He took another sip of his drink, looking across the table at his lieutenants.

Envy hummed but said nothing more, having gotten his point across with that simple question. "Since my two cents are allegedly the reason you brought me along, I will tell you that I think he would be safer with Alphonse in Xing. But I have no idea what he wants."

Edward, who had remained uncharacteristically silent since Envy woke up, chose that moment to lean forward and insert himself into the conversation. "Does he really know enough about the world to make that decision, though?" He rubbed the back of his head, chuckling a bit nervously. "Not that the situation is the same, but I know I made a lot of stupid decisions when I was a kid. He has a right to his input, but we can't just let him wander off and do whatever he wants."

Envy shrugged his shoulders. "You could. He has no reason to hurt anyone, he hasn't been trained to fight, and without someone like Father giving him orders—"

"We can't just leave him by himself." Edward looked down the table at Envy, his brow furrowed in a blend of confusion and disapproval. "Who knows what would happen?"

Envy blinked slowly, leaning forwards and slowing his speech. "He isn't a threat. That's what I just told you."

Edward only shook his head again. "That's not what I mean. He's just a kid, Envy. We can't leave him all alone. He won't know what to do, and he'll be scared. How is he going to get a job? Where is he going to live? What is he going to eat?"

Envy stared at him, utterly baffled, and it wasn't until he saw the genuine concern in Edward's eyes that he understood. They were concerned for the homunculus' wellbeing, not for the safety of their people. They didn't want the boy to be alone, or afraid, or hurt, or killed, or cold, or hungry, or homeless. They cared about him, and it was this jarring realization that lit an old, familiar fire in the pit of Envy's stomach.

"Did you already forget that he's a person with wants and desires and a mind of his own?" Mustang quipped, smirking at the smaller male.

Envy snarled in reply. "No, but I didn't expect any of you to see him that way." He stared the colonel down for a few more seconds, and then he filled his mouth with food and turned to look out the window.

You don't see me that way. You don't think of me as a person, and if I escaped, you wouldn't care what happened to me, you would only be worried about your citizens. But it's not my fault that I am who I am. It's not like I asked to be the one Father created and raised and trained. I could have just as easily been made like this homunculus was. It's not fair. Why do I always get the short end of the stick, huh? It's not fair!

Jealousy. It was burning through him with a ferocity he hadn't felt in months, corrupting every single thought and emotion with bitterness. He wanted to be in the new homunculus' position. He wanted to have people doting on him, devoting their time and energy to making sure he was safe. He wanted to have freedom and choice, to have the ability to leave Amestris behind. He wanted an older, more experienced homunculus to take care of him and tell him what to do so he didn't have to figure everything out by himself.

He wanted it so badly that it hurt.

Like someone had taken a chisel and started chipping their way through his sternum, it physically hurt. Like someone was burning him from the inside out, like he imagined Greed felt when he was melted down and swallowed by Father. It felt like drowning, like he wanted to breathe but couldn't, like he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs but couldn't get his lips apart. He hated it. He hated it so much.

"It was just a joke, Envy." Mustang's voice pulled the homunculus from his thoughts.

"I know that," Envy growled. "Do you need me for anything else? I'm tired."

Mustang arched a brow, clearly suspecting something, but eventually he shook his head. "No, not at the moment."

Envy turned away from the group again, glaring out the window with every ounce of hatred he felt welling up inside him.

Of course you don't need me. You're just going to ask him when he wakes up. Why would you need me? It's not like I know more about his body than he does. It's not like I'm the only reason he's still alive. Why would I be a priority? I have injuries, too, in case you've forgotten, and they're all your fault! But I wouldn't expect you to think about that, because I'm not him, and it's not fair! It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!

Envy was so engulfed in his hatred that he almost didn't notice the warning hand on his thigh, almost didn't notice the way the fingers dug into his skin to remind him he was being scrutinized.

Make my day, Mustang. I dare you.

Because at least then the colonel would be paying attention to him.

Bring it on. I'll fight you right here on the train.

But Mustang didn't do anything, and it only made Envy that much angrier.

I'll get what I want, Mustang. I always do. Just you wait.

"Do you know how to play Gin?"

Envy opened his eyes and looked up to see Havoc standing above him with a deck of cards in his hand. "What?"

Havoc waved the cards in his face. "Gin. I figured while we wait for everyone to get back from the train station, we could play a couple of hands."

Envy blinked slowly, considering the idea. He had no idea when Mustang would return from sending Alphonse and Edward back to Resembool with Raiden—because that was the name they decided on, and Envy thought it was a stupid name, but that was what the boy wanted, so whatever, Envy didn't care, not at all—and he could definitely use something to occupy himself in the meantime.

"Teach me, and I'll play."

"Sweet." Havoc grinned and flopped down on the other end of the couch.

Pulling the cards from the box, the soldier began to shuffle them in his hands, already launching into an explanation of the rules. "It's really easy. There are runs and sets. Sets are three or more cards of the same number, runs are three or more cards of numbers in sequence—like one, two, three—from the same suit." Havoc started to deal out the cards, his hands flashing back and forth until there was a small pile in front of each of them. "I dealt, so I have ten cards and you have eleven. You start by discarding one card, and after that, I draw one card. I can either pick up what you put down or draw a new one, and then I discard a card of my own. We keep doing this until one of us has a hand that can all be laid down at the same time, at which point, you yell 'Gin,' lay down your cards, and you've won the game. Got it?"

Envy frowned, picking up his cards and examining the numbers and symbols thereon. "I think so. It sounds simple enough."

Havoc grinned, setting the empty box and the two Jokers on the coffee table. "Cool. We'll play a practice round first, so if you have any questions, you can ask midgame."

Envy nodded, quickly organizing his cards and looking over what he had. He thought for a moment, shrugged, and put down a three of clubs. "Not that I don't appreciate having something to do, but don't you have work you're supposed to be doing?"

Havoc grimaced and waved it off, drawing a card and putting down one of his own. "Eh. Hawkeye isn't here to pester me about it, and it's more fun to play a game with you than to sign paperwork all day."

Envy allowed his lips to pull into a small smile, but it didn't last long. He was still bitter about the fact that Mustang had told him to stay behind, no doubt singling him out because of his increasingly sour mood.

It's not my fault that I'm jealous. I can't help it.

"So, you weren't looking too happy on the train."

Envy glared across the sofa, discarding a four of hearts. "That's none of your business."

Havoc pursed his lips and nodded to the side in a 'fair enough' sort of gesture. "Maybe not, but you might as well get your practice in."

Envy drew another card, taking another moment to glare at the lieutenant before actually looking to see what he picked up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You really think Mustang will just let it slide?" Havoc gave him a toothy grin. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, kid. He's gonna have a slew of questions for you when he gets back."

Envy snorted and threw down another card, reorganizing the ones in his hand if only so he didn't have to look at the man sitting across from him. "I'm Envy. What did you think would happen when you brought another homunculus into the picture?"

Havoc paused then, toying with the edges of his cards but neither drawing nor discarding. "You're jealous of Raiden? Why? If you ask me, there's not a lot to be jealous of."

Envy scoffed. "Good thing I didn't ask you, then."

Havoc chuckled and shook his head. "You're a riot." He flicked the cards in his hand with the back of his index finger. "I hope you aren't thinking of doing something to get Mustang's attention."

Envy tensed slightly, forcing himself to relax a split second later. Was I that transparent? He looked down at his cards again, furrowing his brow as some of that disgusting, slimy, human hope started to pick at the edge of his mind. Maybe Mustang noticed. Maybe he'll pay attention to me without me doing anything else. After all, he seems to be less angry at me since… since… well, let's not think about that. He scowled, vaguely aware that Havoc was still waiting for a reply of some sort. No, that doesn't make any sense. Mustang has no reason to care about what I f—think. Because his jealousy was a thought, not a feeling. Envy didn't have feelings. Mustang hates me. I hate him, too. That's just the way it is.

Envy looked up, glaring at the lieutenant. "It's still your turn. Get on with it."

Havoc grinned widely and threw his hand down. "Gin!"

Immediately, Havoc reclaimed the cards and began to shuffle them. "I won't pester you about it if you don't want me to, but let me offer a word of advice." He dealt the cards back and forth between them, still grinning to himself. "Causing trouble isn't the way you want to get Mustang's attention."

Envy said nothing, picking up his new hand and quickly arranging the contents.

Well, we'll just have to see about that.

"Mustang?"

Silence.

"Mustang?"

"Hmm?"

"I… I'm sorry."

It had taken six days for Envy to get to that point. It had taken six days for Envy to understand what Havoc meant when he said disobedience was not the way to get Mustang's attention. Before those six days, Envy had mistakenly assumed Havoc was warning him against misbehavior because the penalties would be steep. Envy had nearly laughed aloud at the notion. He had purposefully upset Father for the sake of attention far too many times to fear anything Mustang had to dish out—or at least, that's what he told himself. He couldn't really be sure, not with the way his body had been handling injuries. Of course, in the end, it didn't really matter what he could and couldn't take, because that wasn't what Havoc had been implying.

No, Havoc had been warning him against misbehavior because it was ineffective.

Completely, entirely, utterly ineffective.

It had started off small. Envy would backtalk, sassing the officer every chance he got and generally disobeying the rule of keeping his tongue in check. Every time he did, Mustang would seem to forget he was in the room. It was as if Envy didn't exist, and no matter what he said or did, Mustang would continue doing whatever he was doing with glassy, distracted eyes. Like he was lost in thought, like he didn't have the time to punish Envy, like the homunculus wasn't worth the effort.

That wasn't a big deal. Envy hadn't really been trying, so he couldn't expect Mustang to try hard in response. Rather than taking the time to think about why he was being ignored, he simply decided to go bigger. When he came down to the kitchen for breakfast, he made it a point not to clean up after himself. When they went to Central, Envy knocked things off of Mustang's desk and shuffled his paperwork so it was all out of order. When they got back home, Envy would physically run away from Mustang to avoid being locked up in his room again.

Nothing worked. Mustang would sigh and roll his eyes, and then he would fix whatever Envy had broken and go about his business without so much as a sideways glance in the sin's direction. When Envy ran, Mustang would trudge after him slowly, looking more annoyed and tired than angry.

So, Envy decided to go even bigger.

He waited until breakfast ended on the morning of the sixth day, knowing that Mustang would step out into the hallway to grab his jacket, and when he was alone, he darted into the living room. He wrecked it, for lack of a better word. He flipped the coffee table, broke the lamps, overturned the bookshelf and the china cabinet, and was on his way to punching out the windows when Mustang grabbed him from behind.

He had felt the colonel shaking against him, and for a moment, he thought he had succeeded in getting the man to snap. But Mustang took him upstairs, tied him down, and left him there. Not for an hour, or two, or five, or eight, but all day. When Mustang came into the room more than twelve hours later, all he offered was a mumbled, 'Whoops, forgot you were here,' and freedom from the restraints. Then he went back downstairs without another word.

Which brought Envy to his current, half-hidden position behind the kitchen wall.

"Mustang?"

"I heard you."

Envy bit his lip, taking a step back and holding his breath. He gripped the edge of the archway, watching the back of the colonel's head and silently pleading with him to do something. Even if Mustang got mad and whipped him for his outlandish behavior or screamed any number of obscenities at him, that would be fine, he just couldn't be ignored anymore. He had gone from being jealous of a homunculus to being jealous of books and coffee mugs, that's how little attention he was getting from his warden, and he couldn't take another second of it.

"Mustang." It came out as more of a whimper than a word.

"I said I heard you," was the clipped reply.

Envy swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. He isn't Father. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to play his version of the game.

"Are you waiting for something?"

"I said I was sorry," the sin replied lamely.

"Yes, and I don't forgive you," Mustang shot back.

"Then do something about it!" Envy gripped the wall a little tighter, afraid of what Mustang had in store but even more afraid of that burning, suffocating, agonizing jealousy tearing his core to shreds. "Why are you just sitting there?"

Mustang let out a tired sigh, still refusing to even glance in the sin's direction. "Why were you being so insufferable?"

Envy hesitated, not wanting to admit how desperate he was for something so childish, so stupid, so emotional.

"You know exactly why I'm just sitting here. Because you are trying to get my attention, and if you think I am going to give you want you want in exchange for your unacceptable behavior, you are sorely mistaken."

Envy shrank back, dropping his eyes to the floor. "I know."

"Then I think you have more to give me than an apology." Mustang flipped over the sheet on top of his pile, signing at the bottom and setting it aside.

Something else? What else is there? Envy watched the man carefully, heart hammering on the inside of his chest, throat running dry as he struggled to figure out what Mustang could possibly want. I said I was sorry, but that wasn't enough. He already cleaned up the mess, so I can't fix it. I…

"I don't know what you want." Envy was sickened by the sound of his own voice, by his inability to figure out what a simple, lowly human wanted from him.

"Well, there's an easy way to find out."

Envy could swear the colonel was mocking him. It's still better than being ignored.

But he didn't want to ask the question Mustang was looking for. He didn't want to face the humiliation of asking a human what to do, of admitting how lost and confused he was. He didn't want to lose control like he had on their trip to the West. He didn't want Mustang to see him like that. He didn't want to give Mustang any more ammo to use against him.

But what choice did he have? He needed attention. He needed it. He had never asked Father whether or not he would die if he didn't get what he was jealous for, but with the way he felt, it wouldn't surprise him if the answer was yes. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the gnawing desire anymore. He couldn't take the sheer agony of wanting something more than life itself and not being able to have it.

"Maybe this will be the thing that finally fills the hole I've had in me since I was born!"

"Do you think I'll ever eat enough to not feel hungry anymore?"

"Oh, please, I could sleep with everyone on the planet and still not be satisfied."

Envy knew he would never sate his jealousy. No matter how much he had, he would always find someone with something more, and he would always want whatever it was. But to have absolutely nothing and be jealous of everything was too much.

"Mustang," he started softly, still hiding behind the wall. "Can we talk?"

For the first time in days, Mustang looked at him. He looked and made eye contact and spoke directly—he noticed and paid attention and saw and heard. It was enough to prompt more than a little cooperation from the sin.

"I think that would be very productive." Mustang stood up and gathered his papers, setting them all at the other end of the table and approaching the stove. "I'll put on some tea, and then we can talk."

Relief washed over Envy like a wave, but he killed it immediately. He didn't know whether or not Mustang was sincere, and he had no idea what to talk about or where the conversation would lead. Keep your guard up. He walked across the room to the table. Tread carefully. He sat down and watched the man at the stove. Stay in control.

Mustang turned around and leaned back against the counter, gesturing to the pot. "It'll take a few minutes to heat up. We can start awhile."

"Sure." Envy nodded, fighting off the urge to wet his lips. "You have more experience with this sort of thing than I do. Maybe you should start."

Mustang only smirked. "I'll let you go first. Like you said, I already have experience. You should get some for yourself."

Silently cursing, the young homunculus began to pick at his sleeve, contemplating his next move. "I…" No, he didn't want to make himself the problem. "You and the others are pretty fond of… Raiden." The sound of the boy's name made him want to punch out a wall.

Mustang nodded his head, crossing his legs at the ankles and propping his elbows on the bar behind him. "Well, there was certainly an element of sympathy, and he didn't give us a reason not to like him."

Envy nodded stiffly, pulling off the little pieces of fuzz that were clinging to his shirt. "You all seemed concerned with his wellbeing." He spoke carefully, trying to avoid any statements that might reveal how much it really bothered him. "Edward especially."

Mustang nodded his head. "That's true. He's a young boy in a brand new world, and he has no idea what he's doing. Again, he hasn't given us a reason to dislike him, so of course we wanted him to be well taken care of."

Envy opened his mouth to speak, but the kettle started to whistle and Mustang held up a finger. Closing his mouth, the homunculus stared at the steaming pot, chest burning as he once again found himself jealous of an inanimate object that had taken the colonel's attention away from him.

I've got to stop this. This is crazy. I know I'm jealousy, but—

"Careful, it's hot." Mustang set a cup down in front of Envy and then reclaimed his chair at the head of the table, to the left of his charge. "So, you were saying?"

Envy didn't touch the cup, still picking at his sleeves as his anger and anxiety began to escalate, fighting each other for the position on top. "I—I don't remember."

Mustang blew on his drink and took a small sip. "I said we wanted him to be well taken care of, and you opened you mouth to speak."

Reaching out, Envy took the teacup with both hands and held on tight. "I was just wondering what you would do to him if he did do something to ma ke you dislike him."

"You really are terrible at this." Mustang sighed, taking another drink and setting the cup down on the counter. "This isn't about Raiden. This is about you and me. If I might offer a suggestion, try asking me something like this, 'Mustang, what would you do if I had never done anything to make you dislike me?'"

Envy closed his mouth and looked down at his mug, clenching his jaw until it hurt and replying in the only way he knew how. "It's not fair."

"It is absolutely fair." Mustang didn't even hesitate, his voice even but not quite cold. "You like to pull that line out when things don't go your way, but you are in the position you are in because of actions you took."

"I didn't ask to be created by Father, or imbued with a deadly sin, or made part of a mission that required an entire country to be devoured!" Envy objected loudly, hands shaking around the porcelain cup. "How is any of that my fault?"

"You chose to enjoy it." Unfazed, the colonel gave his tea another sip. "You were responsible for the slaughter of thousands of innocent Ishvalans, and you thought it was fun. You laughed. Those are your words, not mine, and you expect to be able to blame your circumstances on other people?"

Envy grit his teeth, gripping the cup as tight as he possibly could and trying to come up with a reply. Mustang wasn't wrong, but Envy didn't want to be responsible for his situation. He wanted to blame it on other people, on the hand fate had dealt him—blame was such a safe game to play, and he had been relying on it for centuries.

"Go on, Envy, say something." Mustang took another sip. "I don't want to do all the talking this time."

Envy swallowed, anger blurring his vision, heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage. "So, what you're saying is... there's no going back. I made choices, and now… I'm stuck with the consequences."

Mustang pursed his lips. "Well, I don't know about that. There are some consequences that you're stuck with, but not all of them are unavoidable. But I don't think that's really what's bothering you."

Envy glanced up, letting out a long stream of air and hoping some of his anger went with it. "I guess it's not." He eased up on his hold, lifting the cup to his lips and managing a small drink. "It's about… you… and… the others…"

Mustang wore a blank expression, but there was reassurance in his eyes. "You want to know if we would forgive you."

Envy screwed his eyes shut, disgust contorting his features. He hated the word—how it sounded, how it felt on his tongue, what it meant, what it represented, what it required—and the fact that he was asking Mustang, of all people, such a question nearly killed what little was left of his ego.

"There is no forgiveness for people like you, Envy. However…" Mustang finished his drink and slid the empty cup across the table. "There is also no forgiveness for people like me, and despite that fact, I have people who care about me. I have family and friends and allies."

Envy slowly opened his eyes and looked up, meeting the colonel's gaze and feeling some of that wretched hope rising in his chest, smothering the rage and soothing away the fear. He didn't want to ask the obvious question, but he knew Mustang wasn't going to just give him the answer. That would be too easy, and Mustang didn't do easy.

"So… do you…?"

"Do I what?" Mustang tilted his head slightly, seeming genuinely curious.

"Do you… y'know…" Envy rubbed the back of his head, unable to keep the blush from rising in his cheeks. "Do you care?" He paused before tacking on one specification. "About me, I mean."

Mustang hummed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin. "As much as I would like to, I don't think I have the grounds to deny it. I wouldn't go so far as to say I care deeply about you, or that I am particularly fond of you, but… yes. I do care about you, Envy."

Envy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, taking a long drink of tea to cover the fact that he was both relieved and speechless. This is so stupid. I am so disgusting. What is wrong with me? This shouldn't matter, this shouldn't matter to me, but it does. I'm—

"What about you?" Mustang questioned, a light smile playing on his lips. "Or did you not think about that?"

Envy froze, lowering the cup to the table and staring at the colonel in wide-eyed bewilderment. "What about…?"

Mustang chuckled softly and shook his head, his tone laced with the kind of amusement that made the listener feel as though they had missed something obvious. "Do you care about me, Envy?"

Oh.

Oh.

Envy had forgotten about that part. He had forgotten about the part where human emotions went both ways. He had been so jealous of everything that received Mustang's attention that all he could think about was getting it for himself. He hadn't taken the time to think about his own thoughts on Mustang, or about his feelings towards the man who had taken custody of him. It simply didn't occur to him. Jealousy didn't care about anything but getting what others had. Why would Envy think to do any different?

"I can answer the question for you, if you like."

Envy blinked at Mustang, giving a dumbstruck nod in place of words.

"You don't. You care about what I think of you, and that is where your care for me stops." Mustang waved dismissively as he continued. "Which is fine, you're not in trouble for that, but I would advise against one-way relationships. You're not going to be very satisfied with what you get."

"Oh." Envy brought the cup up to his mouth and started sipping again, so stunned by the sudden revelation that he couldn't think. He knew he should have been trying to say something, but what message should he try to convey? He had no idea. He had no idea what emotion he wanted the colonel to believe he was feeling, and his brain shorted out as a result. "Oh."

Mustang chuckled and stood up, grabbing his empty cup and walking over to the kettle. "One more word of advice. Everyone is born with an innate desire to sin. You may feel as though your hands are tied because you can't help being envious, and to an extent I suppose that's true. But you don't have to teach a child to hit, you have to teach them to control their temper. You don't have to teach them to eat too many sweets, you need to teach them moderation. You don't need to teach them to be greedy, you need to teach them to share. From the day we are born, we have all the same desires you do, but we learn to control them. I would imagine you can do the same thing, if you try."

Envy nodded again, rubbing his forehead. "Oh."

"How eloquent," the colonel drawled.

"Shut up, Mustang. This is a lot to think about."

"Oh."

"I said shut up!"

"Oh."

"Mustang!"