Thirteen – the unlucky chapter! But for who? Warning: Metaphor overdose ahead!

Also, YukinoKara has returned :D I'll get around to posting the betaed versions of all the chapters soon, but there's no major changes – just grammatical mistakes and word choices. Couple shout-outs to Greedling in this chapter, as well as building some more psychological stuff.

And – excitingly enough – we're drawing close to Part 3 of The Seven Names of Envy Angevin! I don't have a title for it yet, but as with the last transition, something is going to change. In addition to that, new characters are going to be introduced, many of whom I'm sure you've been missing.

Linea Arlis: Twas a fun chapter to write with all the BAMF-ness. And it's okay, now you know not to use it :P It's a pity you won't be around, but hey, you can always catch up once you're done your finals ^^ Thanks for reviewing, darling!

Malady Marksonne Malaprop: Yeah, she's really, really young in the show – but while her age is the most obvious, most of the ages are messed around with. Obviously Envy isn't four hundred years old, Russell's a year older than he should be next to Ed, and all three (Ed, Russ, Ling) are aged up a year. And with Elysia, I wanted to have her old enough that I could actually do something with her character.

Part 2: Aoi Tori (Bluebird)

Chapter 13

Hope, Want, Dare

"Thanks again for the ride, Breda."

Breda gave Ed a mock salute from the open window of the car. "No problem, kid. Just keep yourself out of trouble, okay? And stay away from that place!"

'Fine, fine, I will." Ed hefted Ling to his feet. "Come on, boozeface."

"Don' call meh boozeface, shortypants."

As Breda drove off, Ed tried to hold up his inebriated companion while fishing in his pockets for his keys – a task that proved to be beyond his strength. "Ling, stand up so I can get my keys."

"Nnnnope."

"You're an idiot."

"Yyyyup." He followed this with an ill-suited giggle.

Ed rolled his eyes. Leaning carefully over, he peeked through the window. He could see someone in the armchair, but he couldn't tell who it was from just the elbows visible on either side of the back.

Really hoping it's…actually, no, I'm gonna get shit on no matter who it is. With a sigh, Ed pressed the doorbell. Through the window, he saw the arms jerk forward a little in surprise, and Envy looked over his shoulder. Ed waved sheepishly.

Envy gave him a strange look, then ran over to the door and opened it. "Why are you home so early? I thought you wouldn't be back until one or two?" He glanced at Ling. "Er, hello. What's he doing with you?"

Ling hiccupped in reply and gave Envy a goofy smile. Envy turned his head away and waved his hand in front of his nose. "I hate that smell. He's been drinking, hasn't he?"

"Yeah…Listen, just help me get him in, alright?"

Envy leaned forward, bringing his face close to Ed's, and then brought his hand up to cradle the blond's chin. "You've got a black eye." He frowned. "What happened?"

"Um. It's kind of a long story. Please let me in."

With some struggling, the two of them managed to dump Ling unceremoniously onto the living-room couch, where he began to snore softly.

Ed sank to the ground, resting his head on the soft arm of the sofa with a quiet moan. "Oh god, what a night."

He looked up at Envy, who was standing over him with arms crossed, and smiled crookedly. "Cute dress. Isn't that what Lust wore to the event-thingie?"

"Don't try to distract me." Envy dropped to his knees. "What happened?"

Ed shifted slightly, wincing as the scratches and cuts in his back shifted and rasped against the fabric of his shirt. "Got into a fight at work."

"At work? Where the hell do you work?"

"Heh…uh…"

"Please tell me you aren't secretly a male prostitute or something."

A burst of laughter escaped him – he'd been ready for anything but that. "No, I promise I'm not a male prostitute. I work at a bar…okay, well, maybe that should be in the past tense. But I'm a bartender."

Envy raised his eyebrows. "A…a bartender? Aren't you –"

"Seventeen?" Ed reached into his pocket and flipped open his ID with a cheeky grin. "Not according to this lad I'm not."

"A fake ID. Of all the things…" Envy shook his head. "So you work at a bar, and you got into a fight. The things I don't know about you."

"You're taking it pretty well."

He smirked. "Please. I sleep in graveyards, you lie about your age – we all get our kicks in somehow. Besides," he added with a laugh, "working at a bar? I'm sorry, but that is just so you."

Ed felt a flush paint his cheeks. "Not just any bar…" he said quietly and embarrassedly. "A, uh…a gay bar."

"A gay bar? Are you serious?" Envy bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, and then touched the swollen flesh around Ed's eye. "I'll get you an icepack, alright? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Yeah, got a couple shards of glass in my back. The guy who drove me home pulled them out, but still hurts like hell."

Envy got to his feet and walked over to the kitchen, and a moment later, Ed heard the water running. "Take your shirt off," called Envy, and Ed's cheeks grew even redder.

Of course he'd have to, if Envy was to take care of his cuts – but…The day before, Envy had seen his chest, and the unmistakable look of pity had been almost more than he could bear. He didn't want pity, especially not from the boy he was supposed to be helping. He couldn't stand it when people decided he was helpless.

Envy returned, holding a cloth, icepack, band-aids and bowl of water. "Shirt. Off." He said this in an imperious voice that left no room for argument.

"But –" Ed began to protest. Envy cut him off.

"I've seen them and I don't care. Now do it."

"Yes, ma'am!" Ed couldn't help but grin at Envy's exasperated expression as he pulled his shirt over his head, chucking it to the side. True to his word, the boy didn't seem to react to the scars at all, merely sitting behind him wordlessly and dipping the cloth in the bowl of water. When he wrung it out, the falling drops made a wet and hollow sound as they rejoined their companions.

The cloth was cool against Ed's back, cool and soothing. He closed his eyes, leaning slightly into its touch.

"You're an idiot," muttered Envy.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, you're an idiot." A few strands of Envy's loose hair tickled his bare back and shoulders, making him wriggle as this tender examined his cut. A moment later, there was a slight moment of pressure and stickiness.

"There we go. You now have a dinosaur on your back," commented Envy drily. A moment later, Ed felt the cool kiss of the cloth back on his back. He didn't respond – his throat felt scratchy and bruised, and he was tired…and he didn't feel like he needed to.

A few moments, two dinosaurs and one Disney Princess later (he wasn't sure how the last one had gotten in the house), Envy spoke again, words quiet and husky. "Come home hurt again, and I will finish the job."

"Hey, I don't work there anymore, kay? So I won't. No problem, see? It's al good!" Ed held a thumbs-up sign over his shoulder. Envy reached over and pushed it down, but didn't let go, his mouth next to Ed's ear.

"Ed…" he breathed, and for a moment, Ed's mind fed him a thousand fantasies, "what aren't you telling me?"

Aw, fuck him and his stupid +100 on perception. "Er, wha-, whaddaya mean?"

"What aren't you telling me?" Envy's grip tightened, and Ed was uncomfortably aware of Envy's mouth – rather, his teeth – rather close to his neck. It wasn't the first time he'd thought of the Angevin boy as a vampire. "You son of a bitch, don't you dare lie to me."

Don't call me that. "Alright, alright." Ed pulled away, trying to put some space between the two of them. "It was your crazy jackass brother who decided to give me a free tenderizing. He recognized me while he was trawling for fresh meat."

It came off a lot more harshly than he intended, and even the second after, he wished he could exchange the words for a kinder substitute. The hand gripping his own loosened, falling to the side.

"What?" came the whispered, disbelieving question that wasn't really a question. "But you said the Demon's Nest was a…a…" There was a block, something that wouldn't move – a lump in Envy's throat that Ed could almost feel against his shoulder.

"Yeah, and he was in there. I don't know many hets who inhabit queer clubs, Envy, gotta say." Again with the harsh words. I don't mean to be like this – but the words were just as blocked as Envy's admission of his brother. He turned to face him, arms hanging over his knees. "And in case you haven't noticed," oh god, Edward, don't be a dumbass, don't do this"both you and Wrath happen to be male."

"Shut up! That's not –" Envy buried his face in his hands and took a shuddering breath, then straightened up with a face like ice. "He was probably too drunk to tell what kind of place it was," he said matter-of-factly.

I'm an asshole. I'm such a fucking asshole. Ed kept his mouth shut. He didn't trust himself. He didn't trust himself. He didn't fucking trust himself and he had to not say anything and –

"Yeah, Envy? I'm pretty sure Greed is gay."

"He is not gay!" he snapped. "He likes girls! He constantly has them all over him!"

"So he's in denial, or bi. Not every bi dude is like Ling, you know."

"He's just…not into men, okay?"

"You trying to convince me or yourself there?"

"He CAN'T BE!" Envy nearly screamed. "It's…isn't…it's not…"

Something struck a dissonant chord that rang from Ed's head down to his navel. "It's not what?" He got to his feet, only half aware he was doing it. He had been so tired, but a growing coldness brought all of his senses into sharp focus.

Envy looked up, eyes wide. He was scared. More than that, he looked guilty, teeth digging into his bottom lip. The black dress shifted and shimmered under him as he shuffled, falling backwards under Ed's powerful and chilling glare.

"It's not what, Envy?" Ed couldn't stop his voice from rising, or cracking slightly. "ENVY ANGEVIN!"

"IT'S NOT NATURAL!"

And it was said.

And the bond, that almost-mystical, indescribable bond that had fastened the two unusual boys since their first meeting, snapped irreparably.

And a schism, miles wide and centuries deep and heartbreaks long, yawned between Edward Elric and Envy Angevin.

Ed couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He just stood there, mouth partially open, arms limp and frozen by his sides. A hot flush rushed into his cheeks – not the pleasant embarrassment he'd experienced every time Envy had done something unwittingly attractive, not the bloodrush that accompanied the harmless innuendo or the dancing or the kiss on the cheek –

"You think it's not…natural?" he forced out. He couldn't feel his lips.

Envy's head was bent, hair hiding his face. The blond strands shook back and forth like willow branches in the wind to indicate the direction of the head.

"You think…I'm…unnatural?"

There was no answer, not even a subtle movement even to indicate that Envy had heard him.

Ed wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to laugh, say "Real funny" and give Envy a pat on the back.

He grabbed his shirt from where it lay on the ground, and pounded up the stairs. Each step sounded like a gunshot, like another nail in the coffin of the little fantasy he'd built up.

He'd hoped –

He'd wanted –

He'd dared –

Slowly, sluggishly, he made his way to the bathroom, having the presence of mind (somehow?) to close the door behind him. He fell to his knees, scraping his knees on the tiny porcelain tiles, and emptied his stomach into the toilet.

He retched again, and again, but there was nothing more to bring up, even when he stuck his fingers down his throat in a desperate bid for more. Still, he remained like that for – how long? Minutes? Seconds? Hours?

Days?

Centuries?

- with one hand braced on the toilet seat and the other clinging desperately onto the towel rack. He tried to pull himself up, but with a peeling and cracking sound that reminded Ed of flames, the rack came free, falling to the ground and dragging Ed with it. He tried again, wiping his mouth with one arm and flushing away the evidence of his weakness.

He turned around and looked in the mirror. God, he was pale. Next to the sink was a pill-box – pale blue, with a compartment for each day of the week. He did a quick count. He hadn't taken his pills since the night of the gala – three days now. Six pills missed now.

Ed hated his pills. He was supposed to take one every morning and every night. They slowed down his mind, made it harder to think but easier to stay calm and stay relaxed. He could do that on his own, just sometimes it got away from him, that's all.

Fuck, he didn't want to think. Not now. Not now. Not right fucking now.

He took all six of them at once.

In the mirror, he noticed the bulge in his pocket. Pulling it out, he realized it was his knife, and he flicked out the blade. It shone enticingly in the harsh fluorescent lights, wicked silver edge sharp and keen. He'd kept it that way, unused, for six months now.

It took almost more strength than he had to close it again and place it gently by the sink. Then, in desperation for something to bring him a little bit of clarity before his meds blurred his mind beyond retrieval, he reached behind him and ripped one of the bandaids fiercely off of his back. Holding it in front of his face, he snorted. It was the Disney Princess one, the outlier, the stranger. Jasmine, Aladdin's Arabian Queen.

"Fucking princess." He threw it in the garbage, and reached for another one. He managed to pull all of them off but one, a dinosaur trapped in a place he couldn't quite reach. From what he could see, he identified it as a Velocirapter. Small – harmless-looking – deadly.

He slammed open the door, leaving his knife and temptation behind. God, what a fucking disaster. He was so pathetic.

So pathetic.

Ed climbed – slowly, wearily, with the creaking joints and mincing, painful movements of an old man – into his bed and between the gaudy sheets. It wasn't long before the pills worked their magic and he fell into merciful sleep.

Bite, chew, rip, spit.

Bite, chew, rip, spit.

It wasn't going to be long before Envy ran out of nails to destroy, but he wasn't even counting.

Bite down, chew through, rip away and spit out.

Bite down, chew through, rip away and spit out.

The words. The three words that had suddenly torn his best friend away and replaced him with an angry stranger, they had broken from his mouth like wayward sons and destroyed the one fragile bond he'd made.

It's not natural.

He didn't hate Ed. He didn't. It would take more than a preference to change that.

It's not natural.

It just…It just…

Greed wasn't. His brother just wasn't. And thinking about it, about men and men, boys and boys – it made him want to scratch his skin to pieces.

Why?

Because it was unnatural.

Because Greed had made Wrath scream.

It was unnatural unnatural unnatural

it stopped sounding like a word after the tenth time.

Envy hadn't thought that before. Envy had never thought that before. Envy didn't care about Ed's sexuality

It was unnatural unnatural unnatural

But the thought of Greed taking his desire, his destructive and deadly and driven desires to some other restless boy – the thought of Greed being gay, why did it terrify him so? Why did he, Envy, mercilessly banish it from the realm of possibility

It's not natural not fucking natural

Because then Greed and Ed would be the same.

I don't fucking care if it's natural or not but I don't want Ed to be like that, I don't want Ed to be twisted and sick and dark like him, like Greed –

With a feeling close to falling, Envy realized he'd already accepted it.

His mind kept spinning in circles, dizzying and deafening. I can't stay I can't stay he won't let me stay. I've got to go.

I'll go home.

The thought made his stomach drop to his floor and the taste of bile to fill his mouth, but he swallowed it down. Better this way. Better this way. Better this way.

He felt so wrong, so sick, so hollow, so, so fucking guilty – he never should have said it. He swallowed, trying to make the feeling stop. He never should have – he didn't mean – he didn't want –

It wasn't often that Envy couldn't understand his own thoughts. He planted his hands against the wall, head hanging down between them as he took deep and arduous breaths in a struggle not to cry.

What's wrong with me? Why am I freaking out so much? Goddammit, Envy, calm down, calm down, calm the FUCK down…you've never had trouble controlling yourself before, what the hell's going on?

The room seemed so dark, and a wave of sudden claustrophobia hit him, walls contracting in a sudden movement. A scream rose in his throat, but before it could be released into the still air, Envy grabbed the handle and threw himself through the door. Cold spring air sliced his skin like a scythe, and for a blessed second, he was flying – then falling.

A shock of pain, barely scratching the surface of the numbness that coiled and coated him, reverberated through his arms and legs as his palms and knees collided roughly with the concrete doorstep.

"Hey, y'alright?"

The slight slur and the faint but familiar scent of beer and other spirits made Envy's eyes dart up in a spike of fear that disappeared at the sight of Ling's round face. "L-Ling…" he stammered. "You're…awake…" The words dripped like molasses, but laced with the laudanum that he suddenly feared he'd been dosed with.

"I wasn't asleep, dobe kawaii."

To his horror, Envy felt the suppressed tears fight their way out of his eyes. He blinked furiously to stop the few stray drops. "You…heard, then."

"Yup." Ling sat down on the step next to Envy, who was still in the position he'd fallen into. "You two are assholes."

Envy gaped, and then rubbed furiously at his eyes. "I – I – Shut up! He – I –"

"Whoa, whoa." With a tremor in his hand that showed that he was still at least tipsy, Ling placed his hands on Envy's shoulder. "You're hyperventi…hybren…" He quit trying to twist his tongue around the world. "You're flipping shit," he eventually pronounced, with probably a bit more pride than it warranted.

"No sh-shit, Sherlock." Envy was suddenly shivering, but it didn't matter. He'd go home. He was going home.

Ignoring the pain in his knees and palms as much as possible, he rose to his feet, stumbling and tottering down the walkway and to the fence that divided the Elric property from the sidewalk. However, that was as far as he got before the short, quick breaths he'd been taking finally caught up with him, colouring his sight with black, dancing spots and forcing him to lean on the fence.

Ling was right behind him, and he carefully held Envy's elbow in an attempt to support him. Envy twisted around to look up at him (he was almost as tall as Greed) with a sardonic smile.

"I thought…thought you were supposed to be the drunk one. Why are you holding me up?"

"Fair question. We're probably both going to end up back on the ground." Before Envy had the chance to process that piece of innuendo, Ling continued, "But I have one carnival rule – wait, that's not right. Whatever. Protip for drinking: always act drunker than y'are. Gets you outta trouble and makes ya look like a badass when you need to. While you…"

"What about me?" he snapped.

"Yer havin' a panic attack, Envy-chan." Ling pressed his hand against Envy's chest. "Heart's going crazy, quick an' shallow breathin', and you're crying."

"I'm not crying!"

Ling raised an eyebrow, and then ran his finger along Envy's cheek. He pulled it away, the tear on his finger glistening in the faint light of the streetlights and stars.

"Oh." Envy looked away, lips pressed tightly together. Ling stepped forward and pulled Envy into a rough hug.

"Don't worry about it, tsuyayakana no hito."

Envy was silent, stifling his sobs against Ling's silk shirt. It was black at first glance, but as he moved his hand along it, it reflected the colours and lights around. It was as delicate as a butterfly's wing, and deep and mysterious as an opal.

The writer in him took it to heart.

"I dunno what's going on," said Ling after a moment. "I dunno why you're at his house, or dressed up like a chick, or whatever. I dunno if you're sleepin' together or something weirder. Even without pretendin', I'm drunk as fuck and my reasoning is shot. But I won't breathe a word, even if I do remember any of it tomorrow."

"Thank you," he whispered in return, unsure if his fragile words had survived the journey to Ling's ears.

"But don't go runnin' off cuz ya think he hates you. Takes a lot more than that to make Ed stop trusting somebody."

"But…I…" It's not natural.

"Yeah, that was pretty shitty, not gonna sugarcoat it. You're kind of an ass."

Envy snorted despite himself. "Remind me never to accept comfort from a drunken teenager again."

"Hey, hey! I'm jussayin'! But dude, everybody says stupid shit. Look at me. I'm crazy about Russ and I can't say it. And don't even ask about me, Ed, and summer of 2008."

Envy made a mental note to ask at the earliest convenient note.

"Seriously. Don't fucking ask him, or sober me. Don't fucken' do it. So you said something nasty when he was pushing you about your bro." Ling laughed. "You're prettier than most girls, wearin' a dress and got yer ears pierced with us. Not ta mention you and Ed…" Ling crossed his fingers. "Scandalous. So nah! He ain't gonna stay pissed, just apologize to him once ya both work it off a bit. How ya feeling?"

It took Envy a moment to realize that Ling had reached the end of his stream of words. "Huh? I…" He swallowed. "Better. I think." His voice was still harsh and raspy.

"That is very good," enunciated Ling with rather too much care, "because I am now going to go sleep on the couch." He took Envy by the shoulders, stood him upright with a wry smile, then walked back into the house.

Envy blinked, and then shook his head. "Weirdo." His chest felt constricted, but the misery that had been so overwhelming just a moment before had loosened its grip at least a bit.

I should sleep too, he thought, realizing that exhaustion would only exacerbate his current instability. I'll apologize to Ed tomorrow. I can make things better.

I've got to.