To Taisiya Yuyu & shaatt: I have every other Monday off, and yesterday was one! As for this chapter… well, this is what I do on my breaks, other than food. (Although this seems more of a minichapter in length, oops)
To MagnificentFern: Sorry to disappoint… satisfy? you, but Roy won't be the one to rescue Ed. He's saved Ed from insanity once, he can't do it again!

Hauling his load of fruits and vegetables, Roy slipped his key out only to find the door cracked open. Quietly setting down his bags, he slid his gloves on and entered the home with caution, peering into the darkness for any hint of trouble.

He cleared each room silently and stealthily, fingers poised to snap at the first sign of danger. He expertly made his way through the dark home, wary of the unsettling stillness and lack of life.

He hadn't found Edward. Not on the couch, not in the kitchen, nor in the bathroom or even in the bedroom.

"Edward where the hell are you," Roy hissed as he made his way through the house more quickly, his search growing frantic as he desperately tried to find his absent partner. "Edward!"

Roy had found the front door open. But surely Ed wouldn't be dumb enough to-

Maybe Ed really did hate the idea of Roy being the man he loved.

But to run away was suicidal! Ed couldn't take care of himself!

Throwing caution to the wind, Roy bolted through the house like a madman, searching it thoroughly two more times to find it completely vacant. He made a mad dash for the door, hoping to find Ed before he got too far-but his attention was drawn to the mysteriously overlooked automail as he tripped over it.

"What the-" Roy's breath caught in his throat as he saw the leg in the shadow of the moonlight, the living room's lighting not quite reaching the limb. He grabbed it and stared at it, dumbly taking a minute to come to horrored realization.

Edward didn't run away. He couldn't run without his leg.

He had been kidnapped.

Roy flew outside to look for a sign of a car, of something to help him find Ed, though he knew his chance was long gone by now. He grit his teeth and returned inside to snatch up the phone and frantically call Hawkeye, explaining the situation to her and recruiting her for search & rescue. Shoving his bags of produce carelessly into the fridge, he threw his coat back on and left the house to search.

My head is pounding. My spine is twisted in an uncomfortable position, causing a mild ache at the base where I had just gotten over my injury.

What the hell had happened? It felt like I was being attacked earlier, but was it just my imagination?

As soon as I roll slightly to relax my spine, a painful jab to my ribs stops me cold.

I didn't imagine that.

"Who-who are you?!"

Another sharp pain and I try to scoot away, but it's so hard to move.

Who's attacking me? Where's Roy? Why isn't he stopping this?

What...what if this is Roy?

I-I know I hurt him but-

"Roy?"

The hits only grow harder, threatening to crack my ribs.

I'm being kicked.

If I don't stop the attacks, they'll break my bones.

"I'm sorry!" I yell, trying to curl in on myself and guard my tender side. "I-I didn't mean to-Ow! Stop kicking me!"

I swipe out with my arm to try and counter the attack, but it's out of blind anger and not automated defense so I miss. I'm rewarded with my attacker taking my throbbing right hand and slamming it to the ground. White-hot pain courses through me and I find myself laying on the floor, clutching the hand to my chest as I pathetically gasp for relief.

All of the attacks on me have ever been imaginary or perceived, or when Alphonse only did what he thought right to preserve the tatters of my broken life.

But this is real.

As I feel a stunning blow to my head, I realize that if I don't fight back with everything I've got, I could die here.

I can't die yet.

I haven't had a chance to apologize to Roy.

And I-well I hope he forgives me, because I want to keep being his partner. His boyfriend. His invalid. His live ragdoll, anything, as long as we're both happy again.

I'm not going to just take this. I'm going to make it through so I can apologize to him for what I said. To explain to Roy that I still love him.

I react subconsciously, my arm blocking another blow. Again I block, scooting back with a menacing growl.

There's just enough of a pause to scramble to my feet, but even with working around my out-of-commission hand, I fail to stand. I try once more before I suck in a sharp breath of panicky realization and reach to feel for my automail.

It's gone.

"Give it-give it back!" I yell angrily, trying not to let fear overpower my anger.

I can't see anything.

I don't know if I can defend myself.

All I can do is rely on my subconscious and hope Roy finds me in time.

I hesitate to react for just a moment and nearly black out from pain as my hand is slammed to the floor again.

My hand was feeling better earlier, but I think I broke it when I fell down the stairs. If I didn't, it's shattered now.

And this bastard is taking full advantage of that.

I block his foot with my left hand, yanking my right to safety and blocking with my elbow. I miss the incoming hit to my chest, but grin defiantly despite the pain.

Maybe I can't win, but I can sure as hell keep fighting.