Honestly, how could he be so stupid?
Roy sat at the table, hands fisted in front of him as he tried his best to remain calm. He'd done this many times. Granted, it was from the other side of the table, but still, he knew the drill: they would let him sit for a few hours, turn the heat off, make him as uncomfortable as possible. At basement level, the room was already freezing, but Ed had been through much worse, so Roy wasn't about to complain.
Which brought him back to Ed.
For the millionth time, Roy stared his own reflection down in the one-way window in front of him and tried not to think about Ed. He was awake by now, surely. What was he doing now? Was he alone? Was he scared? Surely Silas was home by now, or if not, one of his team members had gone to take care of him.
He knew for a fact that Fuery was in the room next door. A few doors down from that, the crime scene was being analyzed and documented. He had no idea where the rest of his team was, or what Archer was plotting, but he knew whatever the man had planned, it went deeper and higher than Roy had wanted to believe.
To set him up like this . . . it was some sort of cover up. Roy had gotten close to something, something that Archer and whomever he was working for were willing to kill for. And Roy had walked right into the trap and taken everyone else down with him.
The door clicked open.
Roy's eyes snapped up to meet ice blue. Archer slid in, that serpentine smile on his pale face and a file in his hand. He didn't say anything as he shut the door and slipped behind Roy, making the hairs on the back of Roy's neck rise as he slowly walked around the table. He finally took his seat across from Roy. "Hello, Colonel," he purred. "Or should I just call you Roy?"
Roy smiled in response, clamping down on a heated reply. "Whatever you'd like, Frank."
Archer frowned slightly, but didn't otherwise react. It was a rookie mistake to react to an obvious attempt at being baited, but Roy wasn't about to complain. Maybe he could turn this around somehow . . .
"Where were you between the hours of oh-sixteen hundred yesterday and oh-nineteen hundred hours today?"
Roy leaned back in his chair. "Let's see . . . well, at that time I was at my house, getting ready to have some friends over. You know, play some poker, start a lasagna. We wrapped up the party a few hours later, then I went and spend the night at a friend's place. I left only to come here."
"I see," Archer said, reclining back in his own seat. "So then, where was Edward Elric while you were hosting parties and having sleepovers?"
"Right there with me, of course."
"And where is he now?"
Roy smiled. "Ah, that's the funny part. You see, I don't know." Not as much of a lie as Roy wished it was.
Archer scowled. "You don't know?"
"No. I've been stuck in this room for a very long time, and I have no idea where he is."
Archer's fingers coiled around the file's spine. "Where did you see him last?"
"At my friend's house."
"What is the name of your friend?"
"So hard to remember . . . new friend. Just started working on the other side of town . . ."
Archer's gaze was positively withering. "You don't know his name," he said, tone flat.
Roy smiled vapidly. "It escapes me."
The Colonel leaned forward, lip curled in a barely –contained snarl. "Need I remind you, Roy, that you're in a very delicate position right now. If I don't get some more cooperation, I won't be able to do anything to reduce your prison sentence."
Roy smiled. "Frank, if you had anything to charge me with, you would have charged me. My guess is you have a handful of circumstantial evidence right there and none of it is going to stick. I have a witness."
Archer smiled. "Maybe, maybe not. I know your men are loyal to you, Roy. They would lie to cover for you. And that notwithstanding, even if that were to get you out of the murder of foreign national Nicolai Vasovik and MP Charlie Riggs—which is unlikely— it will not get you out of the kidnapping of Edward Elric."
"Kidnapping?" Roy arched an eyebrow mildly, though inside, his stomach dropped and the unforeseen possibility. That was not something he'd anticipated. "Please. Just because you can't find him doesn't mean I have him. I already told you he's with a friend. You searched my house, I'm sure. Where on earth would I keep a kid if I were lying?"
"That remains to be seen," he informed. "Tell me, Edward Elric has been in your care these past few weeks, correct? What capacity did you serve him?"
Roy shrugged, but wondered what angle the man was playing at. "The role of guardian, I suppose."
Archer nodded as if in thought. "It must have been difficult to care for him. His medical records show that he was very traumatized by his recent capture and torture. Flashbacks, night terrors; a host of psychological issues. These circumstances can be very draining for a caretaker, don't you think?"
Roy didn't like at all where this was going. His voice was little more than a growl when he asked, "What are you implying, exactly?"
"Come on, Roy," Archer leaned forward again, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "It was probably just an accident, right? You were tired, worn down. Edward just screamed at the wrong time, and boom!" he snapped his fingers. "Nothing but ash."
Roy's stomach dropped and he tasted bile.
Once the shock had worn off, it took every ounce of self-control that Roy possessed not to launch himself across the table. He leaned across it, putting his face inches from Archer's.
"Look here, you worthless, sniveling sack of trash," he hissed, each word slow and measured, abhorrence dripping from them like venom. "I don't know what game you're playing at, but I did not murder those men, and there is no way in this world that I would ever let any harm come to Edward Elric, or anyone else under my command." He leaned back, hands still on the table, jaw tight and hatred burning in his gut. "And if that's all this is about, then I think we're done here."
Archer's blue eyes shifted from a wary glare, to something blank and guarded. "I see that there will be no cooperation from you, but I guess I don't really need it." He stood up from his chair, taking the file in his hands. "Finding the body of Edward Elric will be enough." Roy watched him as he walked out the door, closing it behind him.
Roy bit back an enraged snarl, mind racing from anger to panic and back again until it settled on one particular plea.
Just hang on, Ed. Someone will be there soon.
XxXxX
Roy decided that if he didn't get some information pretty soon, he was going to go absolutely mad.
He was stuck in a holding cell, Fuery occupying the one across from him. The mattress beneath him was lumpy and had the old, musty scent of body odor ground into it's very fibers. Exhaustion pulled his body into stasis, but his mind was racing, completely unable to sleep even if he'd wanted to. He wasn't sure how much time had passed between their arrest and now, but he was willing to bet it was now late at night, maybe early morning.
And still no news about Ed.
"I forgot to feed my goldfish," Fuery mumbled in the dark. Roy's eyes instinctively rose to look across the hall, but he could just barely make out his Sergeant lying across his cot and staring up at the metal ceiling behind his own set of prison bars. "Do you think she'll die?"
Roy wanted to throw a shoe at Fuery and tell him that he had no idea where Ed was, so who cared about a stupid fish? But then his conscience—which sounded an awful lot like Hawkeye— told him he was being insensitive. Roy knew that Fuery was just trying to break the silence that seemed to be so thick down here. And maybe he was trying to distract Roy from his own negative thoughts.
"I don't know, Fuery," Roy responded with a tired sigh. Fuery seemed unsatisfied with his answer, but rolled over on his side and didn't comment.
Worry gnawed inside of him, uncomfortable and exhausting, and the guilt was unbearable. Why didn't he trust his gut feeling? He had known better than to leave Ed by himself. He knew that, so why had he gone and done it anyway?
The answer almost hurt as much as his actions.
He did it because he knew more than anything he wanted to fix things. And he had desperately hoped that if he could just get Ed on the right track to healing, that if he found the ones that did this to him and gave him the closure he needed, that Ed would finally get better. And Roy wouldn't have to sit and deal with the consequences of his mistakes.
He had put "fixing" things over Ed's wellbeing.
Roy was a fool.
"Colonel?"
Roy looked up, ready to snap at Fuery and demand to be left alone, but he looked right up into Fuery's brown eyes and the snarl died on his lips. They were wide and innocent and shining in the dimness with concern that Roy didn't deserve. "It'll be alright, sir," he promised with a small smile. "Edward will be alright."
Roy just managed a weak smile of his own, but it faded fast. "Yeah . . . of course he will."
Iron squealed against iron and Roy was on his feet in an instant as the cellblock door opened down the hall and booted feet clicked towards them. Fuery was much more cautious about getting up than Roy had been, almost gingerly stepping up to the door and wrapping his hands around the bars to try and peer down the walkway.
Hawkeye strolled into view, eyes set hard and unreadable as she stopped in front of their cells. Roy saw the exhaustion under her eyes, though, and the tense set of her jaw. She gave Roy a salute, which he returned with a stiff hand. "Have you heard anything?" he demanded before his hand left his forehead.
Her sherry eyes slipped back down the hall to check for eavesdroppers before meeting his. "He's missing."
Roy felt something cold drop to his stomach.
Maybe it was his heart.
"Missing?" he repeated numbly, suddenly not sure if he was going to be able to stay standing as blood rushed to his head and his knees shook.
Ed was missing.
He was out there all alone . . .
Out where?!
"How?" It wasn't exactly a demand. It was too numb and empty and shocked to be a demand.
She shook her head. "Silas called a few hours ago. He got home and found the front door wide open. The footprints were headed down south of town, but the path Ed took is haphazard and the sleet is quickly starting to cover his tracks. Havoc and Breda are out looking as we speak, but their last check-in revealed nothing."
Roy's knuckles whitened as he gripped the bars in front of him. "We need every man we have out there looking for him! Where's Falman? We need to be out there!" Roy needed to be out there. He swallowed back the impulse to kick the bars and settled for pacing the cell like a caged animal.
Ed was out there, alone and freezing and probably scared to death.
And it was Roy's fault.
He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to banish the thought, but was struck with a sudden realization: That was the kind of thinking that landed him here in the first place.
This whole time it had been about Roy. It had been about Ed not hating Roy, or Roy not having to watch him go through something painful, or getting Ed through something so he would feel better and Roy wouldn't feel so terribly guilty.
He needed to start thinking past the nose on his face. He needed to think about someone else besides himself and his own stupid guilt.
He needed to start thinking about what was best for Ed.
"Don't worry, sir" Hawkeye said, voice soft but firm. Roy's eyes lifted to meet her strong gaze. "We have a plan."
XxXxX
Everything hurt.
Ed wasn't aware of much for a while, save that one notion. It wasn't very clear—it was dull, throbbing and encompassing—but it was enough to keep him from actually wanting to wake up for a while.
Slowly, though, consciousness tugged at him, pulling him from the near-restful slumber and into a much more painful state of being.
His flesh foot was wave after wave of hurt, and everywhere his skin touched automail felt just as bad. His body simply ached, like he'd been hit with the flu, and the chills that traveled down his spine supported the theory.
He felt terrible, and he vaguely wondered why. The last thing he remembered was . . .
Oh.
Wondering around in the snow and sleet like an idiot and falling asleep in the cold. That would do it.
But then . . . he wasn't lying in the snow now. There was definitely something firm and dry under him, like wood flooring.
At the suggestion that he once again had no idea where he was, Ed immediately stopped focusing on his body and what hurt and turned his attention to his environment. He could clearly detect the closed-in sense of being in a small, empty room. There was a dull roar coming from somewhere off to his right, and he quickly recognized it as fire from the gentle heat washing over his face. He clamped down on a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold. He hated fire.
Continuing with his senses, he felt something around him like a blanket, but it wasn't his. His blanket was soft, made of warm fleece. This one was rough wool, thick and uncomfortable. He could tell by the touch of it, and that more than anything disquieted him. Familiar fear coiled in his stomach; the fear of being completely cut off from everything he knew. His breath started coming just a bit too fast, and he promptly tried to talk himself out of a panic attack.
It's just a stupid blanket, Ed. Get a hold of yourself! Mustang's not coming to bail you out this time! You need to figure out what's going on instead of sitting here going to pieces.
After a few deliberate, steadying breathes, Ed did his best to sit up, the movement halting and stiff and painful.
Then a door glided open on old hinges and Ed stopped where he was.
"Well, well, look who's finally awake."
Ed's stomach froze over.
He knew that voice. He knew it.
"Envy?"
I humbly and dutifully accept your hatred xD I'm sure a lot of you can begin to see a plot showing through lol. Or, you know, Rain's desperate attempt at one.
Well, hopefully this chapter showed up as soon as it posted lol. Maybe it was something about posting on New Years Day that did it, but I know a whole lot of people had trouble seeing the last chapter when it went up.
This one was really hard to write for some reason. I don't know what it was lol. Maybe it's because work kills me creativity? Entirely possible.
So ready for summer.
By the way, I actually updated my profile for the first time in, like, seven years, so go check out the link for some fantastic StP fan art that some of you lovely folks have posted c:
In other news, I still do Jui Jitsu and I am in so much pain right now lol. Someone dropped me on my head tonight. I needed all of those brain cells, too :'D Poor poor brain. If this AN seems scattered and hazy, let's blame this, shall we?
Hope you enjoyed! IF you have the time, drop a review and I'll see you next chapter c:
God Bless,
-RainFlame