Should I just put a permanent warning here? Possibly?

Will I? Nah. Too damn lazy XP

Anyhow: blood, gore, torture, mild yaoi shiz ahead... but you guys should expect that by now ;) I don't own anything, apart from the characters' frequent OOCness and the plot line :D

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Also, in response to my friend, Sub.C: I do understand that I've made it seem as though Ed should have been dead a long time ago… But, if you haven't noticed, I'm a bit melodramatic ;D.. Edward is malnourished, but the fact that he is not able to regurgitate the "food" he is given allows him to retain the nutrients in the meat...

… Gross.

Anyhow, he's still alive and kicking ;) (Not for looooonnnng) - let's see how many people mention THAT in the reviews!

;)

;)

;) ;)

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 14

Major Edward Elric

July 14, 1914

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.

It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."

-Anais Nin

Edward was dying. He was sure of that now.

The gasping breaths which he drew in through his cracked, abused lips had steadily become more and more strained over the passing of time. Eventually, he couldn't even be sure that he even was still breathing. The cuts and miscellaneous wounds along his torso would reopen whenever the alchemist drew in a particularly deep inhale, and so he had resolved himself to keep his breaths short and choppy, barely even allowing for the rise and fall of his chest. Without this habitual movement to keep hold of his waning attention span, Edward found he had no other way to discern whether or not he was still alive.

He was still in a world of pain. So he supposed that was something, at least...

His wounds refused to heal- the thickened blood seeping out of them slowly, like molasses- and the skin festering around the edges of the cuts were occupying a large part of his distant mind in their decayed state. His body refused to give back what he had been forcibly fed... the rotting flesh of his own kind being the only thing keeping him grounded to this world. In the days which had passed since Alphonse had first come to him, Envy would visit him frequently- dealing him blows he could never hope to recover from.

The worst of it was the fire. The monster would corner him, force him back against the wall, and light a match before thrusting the burning object in Edward's face. In the beginning, the alchemist stayed strong (even if he did feel a little bit wary of the fire), but Envy could sense his captive's unwelcome comfort in the situation, and decided to change that permanently.

And that was how Edward had lost the sight in his right eye. His depth perception was gone, stolen from him by the three inch, charred match which now stuck straight out of his retina. Edward was plunged into a world of uncertainty. On his left, he could be consciously aware of everything that was happening in his large cell; but, on his right, everything was foreign. He would need to swivel his head, and jerk his body around in order to see the right half of his surroundings.

But he couldn't. It was too painful for him to move.

And so, Envy found it most effective to hold the match closest to Edward's right ear, where the boy would be unable to discern just how close the object was nearing to him. He would scream, utterly terrified of the small flame- as it grew in size and radiated more unbearable heat at his unprotected body. And Envy reveled in the alchemist's anguish. Lived to hear the screams of his half-brother, as the boy was plunged into a world of pain and fear.

But, despite this... Despite the fact that Envy had tactfully decided to change his practices to the psychological aspect of torture, instead of the physical... there were still times when the beast would descend upon him, like the wrath of God, and beat him until he could no longer maintain consciousness. There were still times... too many times... when Edward would be kissed, caressed, and cared for by his brother.

.. When he would be held by General Mustang..

He had fought at first, of course. The thought of anyone touching him in that way made him unbearably nauseous. He sometimes would even dry heave until his saliva had dried up his tongue and throat after Alphonse visited him. The way he acted towards his brother... The ways in which Edward wanted Alphonse to touch him, to hold him... were so undeniably wrong that it made him physically sick.

His Alphonse was dead, wasn't he? Or was he really here?

It hurt too much for him to think any longer so, most often, the blonde simply allowed himself to lie back and accept his brother's "gifts".

That didn't mean that he was a willing sex toy, though..

Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly violent, he would make biting motions at his brother's form, or kick at him in a desperate plea to be left in solitude. Edward liked it best when he was alone. When he didn't have to think... or move... or hope. When he could give into the idea that, if Envy chose to stay away for just the right amount of time, death might finally be able to take him and he would be at peace.

But death never came. And so Envy continued with his "experiments", transforming into people that Edward knew... That Edward loved... in hopes of eliciting some form of reaction from his captive. At first, the young alchemist thought that he could handle it. He could persevere through being spoken to by his brother, his father, his mother, Havoc, Breda, Hawkeye, Hughes..

But Roy Mustang had been his breaking point. Something so painful had happened in his mind when he had raised his head to greet the approaching form of his commanding officer, striding towards him with that smug grin that Edward had always wanted to smack right off of his pompous face.

But right then... Mustang's smirk had been a ray of sunshine in the midst of his dark nightmare. Just as Alphonse's first appearance had been like a punch to the gut, sending his world spiraling in a thousand direction's at once... Roy Mustang had been a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long..

It had only taken him a few minutes to go into shock, body quivering in his C.O.'s presence. And when the General had leaned down to whisper in the blonde's ear, Edward's brain had been thrown into over drive: doubt pushing its way to the forefront of his mind, and he had fought.

He had kicked and screamed at the man before him until his throat burned and turned raw from misuse, tears cutting pathways through the dirt and grime on his cheeks as they streamed down his face.

Mustang had attempted to restrain his flailing limbs, but Edward had still managed to land a few kicks to the older man's jawline before being roughly pinned to the wall. Even so, he struggled against the restraints, fought to break free up until the very moment his world had shattered to pieces.

"Fullmetal! Stop it, right now!" His voice had been exactly how Edward had remembered it, breaking through his hysteria with it's sharp authority, yet cradling him with a softness akin to dark silk. Those midnight eyes shone with bewilderment... but confidence as well. A confidence that was so purely Mustang that Edward clung to it desperately, seeing that emotion as the only stable thing he could attach himself to to save himself from the uncertainty of his predicament. In that moment, Edward had ceased fighting and had given in to the raven-haired alchemist before him..

...And the man had held him. Through the hours which passed, as the moon had replaced the sun, and Edward's tears had replaced his silence, he had held him close and brushed his fingers through the muddled blonde strands adorning Edward's head. The entire scene had been comforting... and Edward had actually felt safe enough (something which he hadn't felt for a long, long time... not even with Alphonse) to slip into a blessed, dreamless, sleep.

.. He had woken up alone.

Mustang, unlike Alphonse and Havoc and everyone else he had been forced to encounter in his days of captivity, hadn't taken advantage of him in his lonely misery. And, for the first time in his life, Edward had wondered 'why not?'.

Since that first appearance, Mustang had shown up to offer Edward comfort almost as often as Alphonse had. The only difference was the confusing lack of sex. Alphonse took advantage of him, so why wouldn't the General? He would sit with Edward (being sure to remain on the side of Edward where the boy could see him), clean some of his wounds, tell him stories of Ishval and Hughes (which Hughes would later come to him and deny ever happened)... all the while, the soft sincerity never leaving his dark eyes as he regarded his abused subordinate. He would touch him, hold him, and look at him without seeing passed him..

So, despite the fact that his body seemed to have given up on him, Edward realized that he was (unfortunately) still in the realm of the living.

The sound of the door across the room opening yanked him from his musings and he glanced up, in surprise, at the man who had been occupying his innermost thoughts, now leaning against the frame of the stairwell. And the pretentious smirk was there, stretched across his fair face, and Edward felt his heart leap into his throat when he noticed the gleam which shone in the General's eyes as he looked across the basement at him. He briefly wondered why he had ever wanted to rid that face of that beautiful smile... It was too breathtaking to ever want to live without.

Yes, Roy Mustang was the only one who could make Edward feel truly and completely human. Though Roy always had to be the one to come to him, the raven-haired man always seemed to sense when the blonde teen was in the midst of being dragged into a pit of self loathing, and would promptly enter the room and save him from himself. Roy was his sanctuary. His solace, standing tall and confident in the middle of the dark horror which surrounded them.

As the man approached, Ed observed him with a look which he hoped would convey his sincerest gratitude. Mustang sat himself down on the ground, a short ways away from the space which Edward was occupying, and it took everything the boy had not to throw himself (restraints be damned) onto his superior in desperation. After so long without human contact, Edward Elric just wanted to be held.

Wordlessly, the Flame Alchemist began to wrap a bandage around the boy's upper torso, sealing off the oozing port of his defaced automail. They made small talk (rather, Mustang talked and Edward fought to remain conscious)... mostly about the office and how everything had returned back to normal after Mustang had defeated the Fuhrer. The man before him gave few, if any, details and always kept his stories incredibly vague, but Edward didn't mind. His eyes only paid attention to the way Roy's lips puckered slightly when he over-pronounced the 'm's in his words; the way his overgrown bangs continuously fell in front of his obsidian eyes, and the small shake of the head he would give to lazily move them away from his face; that smallest of smiles he would give to his young subordinate when he realized that he was rambling on about something "meaningless"...

What he didn't know.. couldn't know... was that no one word which fell from his General's lips could ever be viewed as "meaningless" in Edward's eyes. He held onto every syllable like a lifeline, unwilling to let go of the one thing which kept him alive. Though he desperately wanted to die.. to see Alphonse again.. he was a coward. He didn't want to die, in order to be dead.. if that even made any sense. It was too frightening to think about what punishment a sinner like him would have to endure in the afterlife.

When Mustang deemed the automail port to be dressed well enough, he raised a gloved hand, unthinkingly, to sever the bandage with his alchemic flames. Edward instinctively cringed, releasing a small whimper at the flames which he knew were to come. Tears betrayed him and leaked down his cheeks as his body began to tremble in sheer terror. The blonde could distantly hear the older man calling his name, panicked- knowing he had done something to frighten the boy- but Edward could hardly hear Roy's anxious shouting over the roaring in his ears.

He's going to burn me... just like Envy. His mind was in a frenzy, make believing that there was an unbearable heat beginning to surround him, the tips of the flames licking at his jawline. He sobbed in fear, scrunching his eyes tight together. I can't trust anyone. Not even Mustang. They'll all betray me... hurt me... in the end. The heat had intensified dramatically, steadily taking over his entire existence and making it difficult to breathe.

"Edward!" He couldn't breathe. Black smoke was filling his lungs, choking him. He felt strong hands gripping his shoulders.. tight... they were too tight.. and he desperately tried to fight them off, but his mind was growing foggy... He was fading slowly, allowing the flames to completely consume him.

"Fullmetal! Dammit, look at me, Ed!" His eyes shot open with a start, tears blurring his vision. Mustang was there- an obscured mass of ebony and ivory- looking down at him with concern as Edward broke out of his daze. The fire had disappeared along with any and all feeling left inside of him. He was left, bitterly and blessedly, numb.

Wordlessly, the General wrapped the blonde child in his arms, cradling him gently as though he were a china doll that would break at the slightest of movements. He hadn't alchemized any flames. It had all been in Edward's head... and the realization of this made him sulk in his mortification.

He was pathetic. Hopelessly pathetic. He didn't deserve this kindness. He didn't deserve to live.

Edward found himself wishing death would take him. He wished so badly to see his brother again... to hold him in his arms and stay together always where no one could ever separate them again. He felt the General's lips moving against his grimy hair and strained his ears against the continuous roaring in his ears in order to hear his beautiful voice.

"-m so sorry, Ed.." The man mumbled into his hair. "I wasn't thinking about how you might react... how you might feel about my alchemy.. How you must feel about me.." He was so still- so silent.. If only for a moment..

Then, as though struck by lightening, the man beneath him jerked and shoved the abused boy away from his body and stood. Confused, Edward met the steel gaze of his commanding officer with red-rimmed eyes, almost glowing with the luminosity of his unshed tears.

"It's not good for you if I stay here... I'll only cause you more pain. I'm so sorry, Ed." Turning on his heel, the General tentatively began to walk away, glancing back only after a few steps. When he saw the dejected, heartbroken expression on the child's face, Mustang outwardly cringed and quickened his pace. And Edward watched him go..

It was the straw that broke him. His mind rapidly began to shut down, curling in on itself in a last desperate attempt at protection from the outside world. His left iris dimmed, nearly matching the pale shade of withered gold in his sightless right eye, the eyelids drooping so low that they nearly closed. His sanity crumbled under the weight of his sufferings and with one final shudder, Edward Elric succumbed to the darkness in his mind.

He never even heard the hard footsteps on the floor above before he lost consciousness.

WOOT WOOT! Yet another chapter down! I'm so happy that I'm actually taking the time to get these stories done! :D

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