A/N: Hello children of mine, I live again! Omigosh you have no idea how sorry I am that this took so long. Seriously time has flown by so fast and I didn't even realize it's been almost three months. Jeez, I feel so bad. In my defense, school has kind of been crazy, but I'm back to being home schooled now -praise the Lord- so hopefully this won't happen again. I also got a keyboard for the computer and my brother is letting me borrow his mini Acer. The thing runs slow, but hey, I can write with it, haha. Now, I cannot say updates will be back to their normal pace yet, but I can assure you I am already working on the the next chapter, so hopefully it won't take more than a week or two to finish. Also I apologize to reviewers who's reviews I replied to a second time. I don't remember if I've already replied to them so, yeah, you might get two replies, LOL. I'm dedicated to replying to every single review though, so that's nice of me right? Redeemable quality? No? Okay.
I also want to take a moment to thank everyone for their kind and helpful reviews. In all honesty, Zangetsu50 deserves a huge thank you, because I had completely overlooked a new keyboard until they brought it up. So thank you so much. I like to think I'm smart with tech and such and then I forget about the simplest and cheapest solutions, LOL.
So yeah, that's enough talking for me. My fingers are starting to hurt, because dang is this chapter a monster: 8,525 words I think. O.o
Disclaimer: I spent two-ish months on hiatus just trying to get those stupid rights, and you know what happened? I failed. I failed epically. So nope, no ownership for me. Still. *sighs*
Pain and Plans
When Edward finally came to again, he noticed two things. The first being that he was still on a horse, and the second being that they were not moving. The teen forced his eyes open and had to squint against the sunlight to see why the Drachman party had halted their travel. Had they stopped for the day and just had not bothered to remove him from the chestnut beast he was slung over, or was something wrong? Ed's heart almost skipped a beat at the thought of there being a problem, because a problem meant there was a possibility that he could escape, or be rescued.
The alchemist's hopes were crushed when his eyes adjusted to the light though. There was no real trouble, just a steep incline that looked like it either led to a cliff or was one. A setback, that was all it was. Ed sighed and bit his tongue when the action sent an invisible fist into his chest. He had forgotten about the shape his ribs were in.
Edward noticed a few men coming his way, but the sunlight glare made it almost impossible to see who they were. His ears were ringing slightly from the blood rushing into his head due to the angle he had been at for who-knows how long and he shook it just as the men came into view. Ed's stomach flipped when he saw it was Pouty, Void, and Ford. Just what he needed, another session after his first peaceful nap in what felt like months. Of course the last time he'd slept was actually probably about four days ago, but two hours of shuteye was not enough for anyone to be able to think or gauge time properly.
The men were speaking in his native tongue and Ed tilted his head to try and hear. What he caught made his blood freeze in his veins.
"Brigadier General Volkov has given you full control over the Fullmetal Alchemist's treatment."
Void had said that and looked at Ford while he did, causing the Lieutenant Colonel to smirk cruelly, and for a moment Ed thought he saw pointy teeth and blue eyes flash violet. Just imagination of course, but it still shook the teen.
"Ah, is that so? Well that was kind of him." Ford said, that toothy smirk staying in place, "Then I think the first thing I want you to do... is blindfold him."
Edward's eyes widened and panic surged through him. Oh, they were not doing that! Over his dead body were they doing that! The teen struggled blindly and cried out in surprise when he felt himself sliding. The next moment he was sprawled out in the snow, the horse he slid off of looking at him curiously, as if asking why he had done such a silly thing. Ed heard Pouty snap a warning at the other two and Ed didn't have to look over his shoulder to know they were hurrying over to grab him.
Breath coming in gasps, Edward brought his hands underneath him and pushed up with everything he had, stifling a scream as the pressure applied to his dislocated shoulder made a bolt of lightning shoot through him. The teen gritted his teeth and sucked in a deep breath despite the burning pain in his lungs, and with great effort, got his feet under him and shoved himself upward. And then he was standing. Ed gasped again, but this time in shock instead of pain. He had actually gotten up by himself, and it hadn't killed him. He still had some strength left in him.
The alchemist's momentary pause in action was all the time it took for Void, Pouty, and Ford to catch him though, and with a swift kick to the knees, Ed was sent falling back into the snow, his small triumph for naught.
Ford had had Pouty drag Edward into his designated tent and ordered the larger man out before he could tie the alchemist to the pole. The man had then taken a seat in front of Edward after removing the blindfold that Void had dutifully placed over the teen's eyes. He smirked as he let his arms fall loosely atop his knees as he studied the blond. Ed bared his teeth at the soldier and was tempted to try and rip his automail arm from his restraints so he could beat the living crap out of the traitor. If it had not been for the excruciating throb of his left shoulder, he might have attempted it.
"Looks like you hurt your arm."
The tone of voice Ford used sent a shiver down Ed's spine. He sounded so casual- bored even. The teen took a careful breath so as to not jostle his ribs and leveled the man with a half-hearted glare. In the back of his mind he could hear that dumb voice snapping at him harshly for his diminishing spirit. He ignored it; he was well beyond the point of caring anymore. Whenever he gave himself a little pep-talk, he got that small spark of fire back inside of him. And every time he was given the opportunity to show that tiny flame, tried to escape, they snuffed it out. He was getting sick and tired of it, so he just decided he was going to try and stop giving them something to crush. The fire was gone.
Oh, don't fool yourself, it's still there.
"It's been like that since we got moving, right?" Ford was asking and Ed shrugged his metal shoulder.
"Ah, well we can't have it healing like that," Ford got up from his lazed position and came forward, standing to Ed's left. The teen looked up at him and when the man's hands started to come down the teen's eyes shone just barely with fear. No, no more. Just leave me alone for one day!
"Now hold still, shorty." Ed swallowed down his fear long enough to send a real glare Ford's way. He could not stand when the soldier used cruel nicknames like that. It reminded him of when he had been happy. It reminded him of black hair and equally dark eyes to match. It reminded him if the people he was supposed to be with already and had let down because he couldn't even get himself out of this mess.
"One," Ed tensed when Ford put his hands on his dislocated shoulder, the action sending a large throb through the limb, "Two," His fingers tightened around the discolored flesh and Edward bit his tongue to keep from crying out. "Three!" Ford's almost gleeful shout was followed by an audible pop and crunch as he shoved Ed's arm back into it's socket.
Tears blurred the alchemist's vision and he quickly blinked them away. He wanted to scream, but all his abused throat could manage was a whimper. He hadn't realized fixing something that caused pain could hurt just as bad as when one received the injury. The haze of pain passed relatively quickly, Ed having grown used to it, and he looked up at Ford, who had his hands on his hips and was frowning thoughtfully.
The teen wanted to ask why the man had done that, why he had helped him, but Ford's eyes lit up with some unidentifiable emotion and the next thing he knew the soldier was calling for Pouty- well, Major Ulik.
The large man stepped into the tent a moment later and gave Ford an inquiring look, which Ford quickly answered. The Amestrian soldier leaned close to Pouty and he actually had to stand on his toes to speak into the man's ear.
Whatever he said seemed to please the gorilla and Pouty took two long strides toward Edward and hauled the teen to his feet. Ed groaned at the sudden movement and closed his eyes to keep his vision from spinning. Pouty dragged Edward to the ever-faithful chair in the middle of the room. Ed sat down without needing to be shoved or told. This was routine by now. The teen briefly contemplated asking which one they planned on doing today, but decided to keep his mouth shut when he remembered snark would just make it worse for him.
As it was, he could not figure out what they were doing because they went to stand behind him. Ed furrowed his brows when he felt some tugging at his wrists and a moment later his eyes were wide when he felt his wrists become freed from their wooden cuffs. He swallowed his hiss of pain when the frigid air licked at the raw skin of his where his right arm met his hand, because that tiny spark that kept dying had revived itself again. Little bastard.
An idea formed in the alchemist's mind and he didn't even take time to wonder about the repercussions should he fail before he was putting it to action. Throwing caution to the wind, Ed brought his weak limbs up before either Ford or Pouty could grab them and he clapped his hands together. Immediately he felt the power of alchemy thrum at his fingertips waiting to be released.
The teen slammed his flesh hand onto his automail and a bright flash of blue had his trademark blade forming. An exhilarated grin broke out on his face and adrenaline pumped through him so hard and fast that he didn't even worry about his failed attempt at standing earlier that day, because he knew for a fact he could do it now. All his senses were heightened and muffled at the same time. He could hear his heart beating and see Ford and Pouty's surprised faces in crisp detail, but he couldn't feel the pain that littered his entire body.
The teen shot to his feet and whirled around to swipe his blade at Pouty, who had reached for him. The man backed away and looked at something just past Edward. The alchemist frowned and turned to see what had Pouty's attention, realizing too late that he had not seen Ford standing beside the Drachman.
A hand was grabbing his hair by the time he was fully turned and Ed gasped when he saw sharp teeth grinning at him as a knee was driven into his stomach, the hand tangled in his dirty blond locks bringing his head down so the force of Ford's kick would be even harder.
If Ed had not been sure at least half his ribs were broken before, he was now. A choked scream dragged itself out of his throat and he dropped to the ground, panting and gasping and groaning all at the same time. Ford crouched down and dug his hands into the teen's scalp once more, pulling Ed's head up so gold eyes met blue. "Too bad you didn't malfunction this time, huh?"
The teen didn't even have time to comprehend what the man said before Ford was beckoning Pouty over. "I told you to make it fast, moron." He growled at the other soldier. Pouty huffed before he too crouched down. Unlike his smaller companion, Pouty grabbed Ed's automail arm and lifted it off the ground a bit to examine it. Idiot probably doesn't even realize what he's looking at. Had he not been still wheezing and gasping, Ed might have smirked at the thought.
After a moment, Ford sighed loudly and walked out of the tent. He reentered a second later and handed Pouty a wrench. "Get to work." The Lieutenant Colonel ordered and the burly man grunted, levering the tool under Ed's alchemically created blade.
A small gasp escaped Ed when the metal was wrenched off easily by Pouty's shockingly skilled hands. The teen ignored the burning in his stomach, chest and head and began struggling. No sooner than he started was he stopped when Ford slammed his booted foot into the middle of the alchemist's back. Ed grunted in pain and was careful not to breathe too heavily; he didn't want to damage his chest any more than it already was.
The teen turned his head and watched as Pouty brutally ripped at the metal plating of his automail with the wrench Ford had given him. It didn't take long for the man to reach the wiring that the plates had protected. Pouty reached in and grabbed a handful of them, and Ed's breath caught in his throat. Ford's weight shifted on his back and Ed looked up to see the Amestrian nodding to the Drachman. Pouty smirked and his brows furrowed in brief concentration before his arm tensed and Ed screamed, "No, wait!"
The words came from the alchemist's mouth just as the soldier pulled and a handful of wires were ripped from his automail, nerve endings and all. Before he passed out, Ed wondered if his screams could be heard across the entire camp.
They came for him later that day when he'd woken. The teen found out very quickly that his automail was useless. The most he could manage to get it to do was twitch, and that hurt more than he was willing to admit.
The blindfold had been replaced sometime during his sleep and the alchemist had opened his eyes to complete darkness. Only one of his wrists was tied down now, which made it more convenient for the Drachmans, because they could push his stomach against the pole and mess with his, up until that point, nearly unscathed shoulder and back; they had been too lazy to remove him before unless it was to water board or cut at.
Void was there when they came in. He informed Edward that they were displeased with his attempt at escape and had told him that he would either give them what they wanted, or he would be punished. Ed couldn't even lift his head and give the man a stubborn glare, because he couldn't see. Void's voice was coming from everywhere, and the teen could hear other people breathing too, but he couldn't tell how many there were, or where they were, or how close to him they were standing- and he had never noticed how much this tent could echo!
His silence apparently lasted too long and Void clicked his tongue and the room fell deathly silent. Ed held his breath and waited. Waited for something to tip him off that someone was next to him or that a blow was coming.
Nothing sounded as a warning for the teen but the blow did come. A fist hit the back of his skull and sent him falling forward, banging his forehead against his drawn up knees. The teen bit down a cry and lifted his head just in time for a kick to be delivered to his side, sending him sprawling onto his stomach, his left arm being held at an uncomfortable angle that had Ed mentally pleading with them not to kick or hit it. Because even without seeing it he could tell it would break if it got abused while in that position.
Hands grabbed at him and Ed cried out in surprise, because there was definitely more than one pair of hands, which meant someone was helping Pouty. There was a harsh ripping sound and Ed sucked in a breath sharply, ignoring the pain in his chest, when he felt cold air breeze across his back. There were a few more tearing sounds before Edward could feel his back, sides and stomach being attacked by the freezing temperature. The teen shivered violently and scooted himself closer to the pole where his arm was tethered, trying to curl around his stomach to retain some warmth.
There was a small chuckle from behind and Ed tensed just in time to feel something hard and cold slap across his exposed back. The alchemist cried out when pain like fire spread across his flesh as another blow from the invisible assailant crashed down, closer to his shoulder blades this time.
Ed whimpered as the abuse continued, and after the sixth lash, his blindfold was wet and he was gasping for his torturer to stop. His skin had already broken and each new slap of the weapon ripped open new gashes and sent blood draining down, which only served to make the teen colder.
After a few more hits, the lashing suddenly stopped. Ed had no time to enjoy it though, for as soon as his back was left alone, the scent of burning flesh assaulted his nose and Ed realized his side was on fire along with everything else. He choked on a scream as tears gushed harder and he gasped loudly, tugging at his restrained arm, twisting this way and that, trying to make it stop.
"No! No more! Please!"
The burning sensation died down and the cooked flesh smell went with it, but Ed could almost imagine the bright red metal hovering just inches away. The alchemist didn't even stop to think about the fact that he had said please, the one word he'd promised himself he'd never say to them, and that the torture had only stopped because they were surprised. He was too focused on catching his breath and thinking about what he could say next to keep them from touching him.
"I...I really d-d-don't know a-anything," He whimpered, waiting for the fire to come again. When nothing happened he frowned and turned his head in the direction he guessed someone was standing.
"You really don't, do you?" It was Ford who asked and Ed swallowed thickly and nodded his head hard, willing the man to understand, to take pity. Funny, the teen didn't even know when he had started accepting pity from lowlife traitors.
"Alright, you don't know what your military is doing or planning. Fine. But you do know about alchemists and their weaknesses, and you keep avoiding answering the questions, even now. Come on, what's the harm in telling us how to stop a pyromaniac from burning our friends and families?"
Ed didn't even know how he managed to find his voice. "But that's not… w-why you w-want t-the information."
He heard Ford sigh and a pair of boots walked out of the tent. Ed only figured out it was Ford leaving because the man's voice was more distant when he spoke again. "You never learn, do you, Fullmetal?"
It was silent for a good while after that. Just when he thought he was alone and allowed a tired breath to leave him, Ed felt the agonizing fire and he found himself begging for it to stop once more.
The next time he woke up, Ed didn't think he would ever be able to move again. Any and all movements were accompanied by some sort of pain degreeing from "hurt" to "I'm dying" and soon enough the teen just gave up on trying to find any comfortable position.
He sat there for what felt like hours and found that while it had been difficult to gauge time in the tent before, it was near impossible now that sight was no longer an option. The entire time he kept tense, waiting for someone to come and start smacking him around. Maybe they would throw him out in the snow and hold him there until he got frostbite; without his shirt it would not take that long.
However, nobody came for quite some time and Ed found himself dozing off to escape the pain that clung to his body like a wet towel, sucking out all comfort and forcing shivers to wrack his little body. He could feel his hair plastered uncomfortably to the back of his neck by sweat, and anything that was stuck to his face he bet was kept with a combination of dried blood, sweat, and tears.
Just as sleep started to drowse him fabric rustled and Ed snapped his head up trying to see who it was. Can't see, genius. The teen frowned and sighed mentally. Mustang's voice was just getting more sarcastic as the days went by. Ed figured it was because the voice was getting frustrated with his attitude towards everything now, because Ed himself was vexed by his apathy towards his situation.
The teen heard someone hum in approval. "You'rre rright, vithout ze arrm he looks even morre pathetic."
He recognized the voice immediately as Black. The Brigadier General's companion was silent for a moment and Ed heard their quiet breathing and he couldn't help but wonder at how lack of vision enhanced hearing.
"I told you it would do that, sir. He's useless without it. After all, he can't use his alchemy and there's no way he could escape his confines now."
It was Ford speaking and Ed's working shoulder tensed and he clenched his jaw. That man… Ed didn't even know what he thought about Ford anymore. "World's Most Vile, Disgusting, Pathetic, Exhausting Excuse For A Human Being" award did not even come close enough to summing up how much Edward hated Ford. Everyone would think the teen despised Pouty the most, given that the man hurt him the most, but no. Ed knew Pouty was just doing his job. There were just some soldiers out there who were trained to do horrible things to people and that was what the Drachman's job was, so Ed couldn't really hate him for that. Did he want to watch the man writhe around on the ground in pain? Hell yes. But he didn't hate him.
Ford though… Edward's hate for him brought out a side of him he didn't even know existed. That side of him wanted to watch Ford suffer. It wanted to watch the skin being melted off of the man's bones and then have salt poured all over his fresh wounds. It wanted to see Ford go through all the hell they had put Ed through and worse. That part of Ed wanted to see Ford dead. And it scared the teen. It made him sick to his stomach. It made him hate himself just for thinking about it. It terrified him because he hadn't realized just how far they had driven him over the edge until those thoughts flooded his mind.
"I see zat." Black said, "Vhat do you plan on doing now?"
Edward's mouth went dry at that question. Because it was a good one. What did Ford have planned for him next? After two escape attempts the day before, Ed could only expect for the man to have a whole new pain plan for him today, assuming what they had done before was not enough.
"I have yet to decide, sir."
That was it. That was all Ford had to say. He hadn't even figured it out yet. Was he just playing it by ear? Winging it like this was all some sort of game? Ed didn't think it was possible to hate the man any more, but as it turned out, he was wrong.
Ford apparently decided there wasn't much to be done to Edward that day in terms of torture and all the teen received were a few quick, sporadic beatings, just to keep him uncomfortable enough to cringe whenever they got close.
Oddly enough, Ed found that his internal Roy voice was beginning to talk more. During the last beating, it kept telling him to turn this way and that to avoid the bad pain from a lot of the blows. Edward could not decide if he had been more disturbed by the fact that he had listened to his conscience, or that his conscience had known where the blows were coming from, as if his brief military training was so deeply ingrained into him that he could defend even without being able to see the enemy.
Ed figured the persistence of the voice was probably due to the fact that he was likely losing his mind by this point, but he didn't really care. The voice, no matter how many times it insulted his height and was a complete jerk, could be helpful and actually brought some strange sort of comfort to the teen.
The first thing Ed noticed when he woke up the next morning was that his shoulder was numb from sleeping at an odd angle. The next thing he was aware of, was the fact that the blindfold around his head had loosened and slipped down the bridge of his nose just a bit and he could see a small sliver of light peeking from the top. The lighting told him it was either morning or midday; those were the only times of day in which bright light entered the tent.
The teen knew the light would leave him the moment one of the Drachmans or Ford came in and tightened it, so he tried to enjoy the glow for as long as he could. Which, as the world would have it, was not very long. Almost twenty minutes after waking, there were footsteps and the small light was blocked out by bodies in the entryway of the little shelter.
The small gap in the fabric over his eyes was not wide enough for him to properly see who was with him, but the teen guessed Pouty was probably one of the ones among them. And possibly Ford, since he liked visiting nowadays.
A small shudder passed through him when he thought about what they were probably here for. Or maybe it was the cold draft. Not likely though, his skin had gone more or less numb the day before and he was pretty sure his blood was cold by now too.
"Check him." Give the alchemist a prize! It was Ford there with Pouty. Ed was confused by the man's order and he tried not to flinch too hard when Pouty's burly form came into his small pocket of vision and crouched next to him. The man tugged at the restraints around his wrist before tightening then slightly. Ed bit his tongue when the rope dug into his skin a bit. Pouty also touched his blindfold and Edward held off a sigh when he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable tug of the cloth that would cut off his vision once again.
He frowned in surprise when Pouty only grunted and got up, his footsteps taking him away from the teen. Had the Drachman really missed how loose the blindfold was? Ed wasn't about to begin complaining, but it still made him wonder what was causing the man to be so inattentive.
"He's fine." Pouty grunted and Ford hummed in affirmation. "Very good." The man's heels crunched against the ground and Ed realized he'd turned and left sharply. A heavy set of footfalls signaled that Pouty had followed.
For the rest of that day, they had left him be and Ed had been a little more than confused and suspicious. He hadn't allowed himself to relax for fear of someone coming in and touching him. All that had happened though was that Void came in and shoved food down his throat. It had been stale and smelled, like mold and vomit, which Ed want to gag, but he ignored that and accepted what was offered eagerly. It had been some time since they had last fed him and he'd almost forgotten what food tasted like.
He figured it was drugged, but at that point he didn't even care, he just needed to eat; he needed to regain his strength; he needed to heal. If it did have the hallucination inducing poison, Ed was beyond the point of being surprised and it didn't even matter anymore. In the end he wasn't even able to figure out if it was tainted or not because the moment the food hit his stomach, he felt his eyelids droop and in spite of his fear, he felt himself drift into sleep.
When he woke, Ed noted that his blindfold was looser on his face but it hadn't fallen any further. He also noticed that his wrist was not held as tightly to the pole as it had been. The teen knew Pouty would fix that when they came to check on him, but that knowledge was in the back of his mind, because after the grogginess of sleep left, he found he could think clearer than he had in days -or was it weeks?
The alchemist figured it was a combination of an actual full stomach, a healing body that hadn't been beat on in a day or two, and a sudden surge of hope that surprised him.
The wounds on his back were insanely itchy, which meant they were scabbed or scabbing. His ribs were still incredibly difficult to manage because they seemed to be the only things wounded that weren't healing, if the giant black and purple bruises covering his chest were any indication. His shoulder was still sore, but he could roll it around and it didn't send stabbing pain like it had before, so that was good. His legs were still working, and Ed felt that the stab wound in his thigh from so long ago was healed more or less perfectly, though he wasn't sure about all the other cuts that littered the flesh on his calf and knee because his entire body had sort of gone numb, save for the tiny pulls on skin where scabs or scars were.
And if they didn't hurt him today, as slim as a chance that was, he would continue healing. And if they fed him again and continued leaving his bonds unattended... it was the slimmest chance, so small it was probably extremely unrealistic to even be considering it, but it was a chance. If the Drachmans cooperated with his plans without knowing it... he could actually...
The teen was too scared to even think the word because he didn't want to start building hope on an idea, a plan, that would fall flat the second Pouty, Void, or Ford walked into the tent. But still, he held onto the smallest tendrils of that dangerous rope because it was the only thing he could think to do. That tiny ember in his heart had sparked back into a small flame.
Ed almost found himself smiling but he didn't want to risk someone walking in and seeing him looking happy. Though with blood and bruises covering his face the smile itself would probably end up looking deranged.
You can do this. That voice popped up again and for once, Ed didn't tell it to shut up. He actually found himself replying before he could stop himself and realize how crazy he was to be talking with his head.
"I know."
"You know? Know what?"
Ed tensed immediately when Void's voice penetrated the silence and another set of heavy footsteps -Pouty- followed his own lighter ones into the tent. They hadn't yet come into his view and that helped Ed to breathe a little easier.
Ed could just picture Void raising his eyebrow, the left one, just a bit as he asked him once again what he had been talking about. The teen shrugged and he heard Void sigh and a moment later his feet were shuffling out of the tent. "You know what Ford said to do." He said and Ed felt a stone of dread hit his stomach. What had Ford told them to do?!
He heard the ground shift as Pouty came toward him and Ed instinctively curled in on himself, trying to become as small as possible so the man would just leave him alone. He heard his teeth start to chatter and the smallest of tremors ran through his body. No, what was Pouty going to do? Had Ford somehow figured out what Ed was planning and sent the Drachman to beat the ideas out of him? It hadn't been that long since his last escape attempt after all, so it wasn't like it would be hard for them to guess what he was thinking. Maybe Ford had noticed the blindfold and didn't fix it because he wanted to see what Ed would do. Maybe he'd-
Fullmetal!
Ed's breath caught in his throat and his head snapped up in attention, his eyes searching for the blue clad Colonel a moment before he remembered Mustang wasn't actually there. It was all in his mind. Still, it had gotten the teen to calm down and Ed realized he wasn't thinking rationally. There was no way Ford could know what he was thinking, so there was no way they knew what he was planning. And that meant whatever Pouty was here for was just a routine beating.
With that in mind, Ed uncurled himself and kept tense, waiting for the blows from Pouty's giant fists.
Pouty hadn't used his hands that time, but a knife. Just a few shallow cuts and stabs on his arm leg and a few slashes across his stomach. They weren't deep enough to warrant stitching, but they were bleeding and they would scar. Still, they weren't life threatening. And even with the new pain on his body, Ed couldn't stop smiling, because he had noticed something: Pouty had left his knife on the chair in the middle of the room and it was balanced rather precariously on the side closest to Ed.
They were growing lax.
Apparently the lack of a metal arm was a huge lack of threat to them and they didn't feel he needed to have child locks anymore. A plan was already formulating in the alchemist's mind and he knew it would work before he'd even thought it through completely. As long as nobody came in, he could get it. And if he could get it, he had a chance of getting out of there.
Ed watched the door to the tent for what felt like hours before he scooted himself around the pole with difficulty. He hadn't realized how hard it was to move when you couldn't stand and didn't have either hand to support your movements. Eventually he was turned towards the chair though and then all he had to deal with was the task of scooting his entire body forward so he could reach the damn thing. For the first time since his capture Ed put his bonds to good use and gripped the pole with his tied hand and pushed against the giant stake as his legs pulled him forward. It took several tries to get where he wanted, his arm pulled taught against his confines and his legs outstretched toward the chair, but he did it and then all that was left was kicking the wooden piece of furniture and getting the knife to fall just right so he could still reach it.
The only thing that made his task irritating was the fact that he was in the corner of the tent and the chair was in the middle and he was... well he was.. he wasn't very... the room wasn't exactly big, but it was... well it was longer than him... Face it, you're short.
Ed grit his teeth against the curses he wanted to shout at the air and instead just shook his head and arched his back to get his right leg stretching out as far as it could. A small gasp of triumph passed from his lips when the toe of his boot made contact with the wood and the chair wobbled. The teen bared his teeth in an animalistic smile and he lashed out again and this time the chair shook hard enough that Ed thought it was going to tip and a small thrill of panic ran through him. Then the chair stopped it's rocking and the alchemist heard a dull thud where the knife had fallen to the ground.
He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and stared at the blade lying by his left foot. Biting his lip, the teen placed the toe of his boot on the hilt of the dagger and carefully dragged it toward himself. It slipped once or twice and by the time it was completely hidden under his foot and he was back by the pole, acting as though nothing had happened, he had several holes bitten into his lip.
Ed's heart was racing so hard he could barely hear and he had to force himself to breathe properly. He felt like he should be grinning over his achievement, but all he found himself feeling was dread. The Drachmans weren't stupid; they would remember they left a knife in the same tent as him, and they would come back in to retrieve it later and find it wasn't there, and there would only be one logical guess as to who could have taken it. And then it was all be over.
The moment of truth came hours later when Pouty came in with Void and stopped abruptly, staring at the chair with narrowed eyes. It took everything in Edward to not hold his breath or look guilty. There was really no reason he couldn't -obviously they knew where it was- but he still told himself to act natural. Thankfully natural had become curled up and fearful because they really wouldn't be able to see guilt when they could barely see his face.
"What is it?" Void was asking and Ed screamed inwardly. This was bad, this was bad, this was bad! Maybe he should just fess up. Would the punishment be lighter if he did? Probably not. Would they kill him for this one? That didn't sounds so bad actually...
"I thought I left a..." Pouty's voice drew Edward from his realm of panic and he swallowed hard, waiting.
"Thought what?" Void sounded annoyed and tired and Pouty sighed and Ed could see him shake his head out of the corner of his blindfold. "Ford must have taken it."
"Fine," Void was much crankier today the teen noted with a hint of curiosity. Was he getting to them? Getting them to the point of snapping? They had gotten him... a little... but he hadn't considered that he might be having the same affect on them with his refusal to tell them what they wanted.
"Hurry up," Void snapped and Ed was brought from his musings and his neck and back were ramrod straight as he awaited whatever treatment Pouty had to deliver.
Thick, calloused fingers were grabbing his jaw suddenly and the teen sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn't been expecting that. Pouty took advantage of his open mouth and the next thing he knew Ed had water pouring into his maw. He knew there was no use trying to close his mouth or spit it out, so he drank the liquid, knowing full well it was drugged. They only ever gave him water when they had it drugged. Still he drank it. Before he could finish swallowing the fourth gulp the canteen was pulled away from his lips and something hard and grainy was being shoved into his mouth. Ed almost choked on what he knew could only be bread but ate it quickly before they could change their minds about feeding him.
Pouty made a disgusted sound at the way Ed ravenously ripped at the offered food and spat out at Ed loud enough for the teen to hear easily, "Disgusting little pup."
Ed didn't even bother glaring at the "little" comment as he finished the bread. No sooner had he swallowed was Pouty shoving the canteen back into his salivating mouth. Ed took one quick sip of it before a thought suddenly struck him and a devilish glint entered his golden eyes. Too bad Pouty couldn't see it. On his next gulp, Ed let his mouth fill completely and then he carefully feigned a swallow, making sure it looked convincing. After that, Pouty took the water away and the Drachmans left again.
Edward moved quickly once they were out. He shook his head roughly and the blindfold fell off the bridge of his nose to hang around his neck uselessly. His lungs were screaming for oxygen by that point and Ed pulled his foot up to reveal the metal he had been hiding. Without worrying about getting himself wet, the alchemist opened his mouth and spit the water onto the blade of the dagger.
He watched as saliva and clear liquid coated the knife and the ground around it and a smirk broke out on his face. Covering the weapon with his boot again, Ed bit down a cackle. They had grown a little too complacent and this time it was actually going to cost them. Ed was going to get out of there and it was going to be all due to them thinking he was useless without his arm. Their blunder was almost too good to believe, but whenever Ed started to think maybe he was hallucinating he would shift his foot and feel the knife sliding under it. He couldn't feel his hallucinations.
When his limbs went limp and his head leaned back against the pole, Ed panicked a moment before remembering that he had drank the water and it was normal. It was nothing to worry about. But with the inability to move, came the inability to ignore the nagging worry in the back of his mind, and as the minutes ticked on, Ed began to feel an increasingly worse doubt that his plans were going to work out the way he thought they were.
There were so many things he still hadn't taken into account. The first was that prisoners were usually kept in the middle of camps, and that meant he would be surrounded by hundreds of angry Drachmans. How did he plan on getting past them all in his state? The second was that he didn't even know where they were. Even if he did manage to get away how would be find the Amestrian camp? The third was the most obvious to him: He was still weak from the countless beatings and lack of food. How did he plan on doing any of this when he was in such sorry shape? There were numerous other things to take into consideration that freaked the teen out, but those were the top three that grabbed his attention.
Even if he escaped there was nothing stopping the Drahcmans from coming after him... Oh if they caught him after he tried to escape... what would they do? At the very least they would beat him into next week, but Ed knew they could also do so much worse. They could hurt him and then they could kill him. They could get into Amestris already, what would stop them from going after his friends, after his family. What was stopping them from going after Al and Winry if they were the victors of the battle? Nothing at all.
Ed hadn't realized he was on the verge of hyperventilating until a voice cut through the haze of his distress and his breath caught in his throat. "Brother, calm down."
The teen opened his eyes and swallowed when a lump suddenly felt like it was clogging his throat. "Al..." Ed closed his eyes when his vision blurred and he shook his head. No, that wasn't Al. Alphonse looked like a suit of armor and he was supposed to be fourteen, not the little blond ten year old that was staring back at him with soft eyes like their mother's.
"It's okay big brother," The little Al was saying and Ed shook his head again, harder this time because maybe if he jostled himself enough the hallucination would go away.
"Brother, why won't you look at me?" Al -no, no, not Al- asked and Ed answered with a shuddered breath, his gold eyes slowly rolling up to stare at the little form of his baby brother. His sweet little Alphonse, who was looking at him with such care and understanding that was so familiar Ed felt moisture build up behind his eyes. It had been so long since he had seen that face and even as his mind rationalized that that wasn't how Alphonse looked now, he couldn't find it in himself to care. It was how he remembered his brother before he had ruined everything and caused Al to live in unending sadness, and Edward just missed looking at him.
"Al... I..." The teen swallowed and gave the mental ghost a sad smile. He didn't need to say anything out loud. Ed had learned that last hallucination when he'd had a conversation with his mom. Everyone that came to him was an extension of his thoughts, so they knew what he was going to say before he ever said it. But this time... this time it was different. He wanted to talk; to make it feel as real as possible before the drug wore off and his brother's big shining eyes left him. "Can you come closer?"
"Remember not to touch me," Alphonse said as he obliged and walked closer to the teen and sat down an arms length away. It took every once of self restraint Ed possessed to not reach out to try and grab hold of the little boy.
"Why are you here?" Ed asked after a few seconds of silence. He already knew why, but he asked anyway.
"You need to calm down, brother." Al said, sounding like he had all the patience in the world. He never took his gaze away from Ed and the older boy felt himself relax slowly as he stared into his brother's eyes. Alphonse had always had that affect on him. Usually he calmed him down when Ed was angry, but apparently it worked with being freaked out too.
"It'll be fine," Al assured him and Ed looked at his feet and frowned. How could he be so sure?
"Because deep down you know you can do it," Al answered the unspoken question and Ed sighed and bit his lip. Still... there were so many ways he could mess up or something could go wrong, so did he really know he could do it?
"You do. You're the Fullmetal Alchemist." Alphonse's voice held a note of pride that had Ed snorting under his breath. "Not anymore." His voice was so quiet there was no way any normal person would have been able to hear him.
"Fullmetal, that's pure crap and you know it, so stop being a child." Ed's attention was immediately drawn to the far left side of the room where he found Mustang standing with his arms crossed and an expression of irritation on his face. Well, he heard the bastard in his mind enough so he really shouldn't have been surprised to see him when his mind was in such jumbled state.
Ed mustered a weak glare and he turned away from Mustang. He didn't want to deal with short jokes and lectures at the moment. He just wanted to have a moment with his brother before he was sent back into the real world that didn't want to ever see him happy. But his mind was having none of it and the next thing Ed knew, the Lieutenant's voice was in the room too. "He's right, Edward. Stop being childish and listen to us."
He was listening to them! It wasn't like he could make himself not hear them since they were kind of all in his head, but that didn't stop him from scowling deeply and nodding. "Fine." He grumbled and looked up to find not only Hawkeye and the Colonel, but everyone else as well. Havoc and Breda were sitting next to each other and Fuery was standing behind them next to Falman. They all wore small smiles and Ed felt his heart slam inside his chest unexpectedly. He found he wasn't even upset with them for being there like he usually was when they popped up in his head. The teen turned his attention to Mustang and Hawkeye, who were standing closer together than they ever would if they had been real. The Lieutenant was looking at him, her sherry eyes soft and encouraging and the Colonel was no longer glaring, but he wasn't smiling or giving him a coddling look either. Ed didn't know how to describe it, but the way Mustang looked at him calmed Ed down more than Alphonse talking to him had.
"You're not thinking about giving up now, are you?" Alphonse asked from his side and Ed didn't even look over, he was still transfixed by the picture in front of him. His team, silently telling him he was strong. Telling him he wasn't pathetic and worthless. His family, telling him they believed in him.
No, he wasn't going to give up. He would escape. He had to. For his brother. For Winry. For the sake of the six people standing in front of him.
"That's what I wanted to hear." Mustang's eyes were shining with some unidentifiable emotion and Ed felt a smile curve his lips for no reason other than the fact that he liked the expression his superior was wearing, and was pleased with the fact that he was the one to put it there. Even if it was all a figment of his imagination.
"Now stop fantasizing, Fullmetal. Get to work." Ed rolled his eyes at the Colonel and didn't say anything. He sat in silence and waited for the image in his head to change into something more sinister like it usually did, but it never happened and when the drugs wore off, the only thing that faded from his mind was the picture of his team and brother smiling at him.
When he came back into consciousness and could twitch his limbs, Ed found his head was completely clear. There were no residual voices ringing in his ears, no unsettling images from the hallucinations. There was just a complete feeling of resolve. He was going to escape, and he was going to do it the next time he was sure he was alone.
A/N: *dies* Are you guys at all tired after reading that? Because I am, holy moly, this is officially the longest chapter. I don't think there will ever be one that surpasses this length, so don't get your hopes up. On the bright side: So much in terms of plot... at least it felt that way, I don't know if it actually was... XD
Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me even through this huge suck-fest that is hiatus, I hope I didn't disappoint with this chapter.
Stay Nerdy!
~WhoLock