Here we go, chapter ten!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
And thank you to all of you readers, followers, favouriters and reviewers!
Chapter Ten
Roy was pissed off by Charles.
He knew the moment he had done it, that it had been a bad idea, but he had still thrown himself at Charles' legs.
The man fell off of Fullmetal's hand, and the kid hastily pulled it back as Roy and Charles fell to the floor.
The next second, Roy got a foot in his face and then Charles plunged a needle into his neck.
Roy quickly lost the feeling in his body and was left lying on his stomach as Charles pulled Fullmetal into his line of vision. Charles then sat himself behind the kid, pulling him up to his chest and earned quite a few pained yelps. He then grabbed Fullmetal's hand in his. "Haven't you learned, Roy? Bad behaviour earns punishment!" Then he began breaking Fullmetal's fingers one by one. The kid whimpered which each crack. Charles then threw him to the ground, picking up his right leg and held it about eight inches from Roy's face, and he knew what was coming. He closed his eyes, but Charles shouted at him. "NO! Roy, look! Look and know that this is your fault. Look or I'll break his knee too!"
Roy forced his eyes open, watching as the man broke Fullmetal's toes as well.
Charles stood up and left the cell, slamming the door behind him, before he left the stables all together with a "Remember, Roy! That was YOUR fault! YOURS AND NO ONE ELSE'S!"
Roy couldn't even say anything to Fullmetal as the kid lay there panting, whimpering only thing in Roy's line of vision was those goddamned toes that weren't in the right direction.
"Colonel? The drug will wear off pretty quick if it's the same that he gave me in the hospital."
How the hell isn't the kid angry with me after that?
After about five minutes, Roy began regaining the feeling in his body, and after five more, he had full control of his body again. He quickly scrambled forwards and picked the kid up, holding him close to his chest. "I'm so sorry, so, so sorry."
"It's not your fault that that man is a complete psycho. I'd almost say it was worth it just to see you tackle him to the ground. And you only did it to get him off my hand in the first place."
Roy just squeezed him tighter to his chest, putting a hand behind his head. Trying to offer the kid just a tiny bit of comfort in all this pain. Roy had so far got off easy, and it annoyed him to no end. The man was supposed to hurt him physically, not to torture this child just to get back at Roy.
"I'm still sorry."
"Don't. There's no point in apologising for what that man does. It's his fault."
Roy still felt horrible despite Fullmetal's words. It was his duty as his commanding officer to look after this kid, as well as the fact that he was a grownup and this was a thirteen-year-old child. He was supposed to protect him, wasn't he? Instead all he could do was give this kid a fucking hug and that was about it.
Ed was just sitting there, Mustang was holding him, lending him a bit of warmth and comfort, even though Ed was strong as hell, and he knew it. He didn't need to be hugged.
But right now, it was just easier to let himself be held. An irritatingly large part of him was actually happy to be hugged right now. It was the same part that was scared and in pain and just wanted some escape from this hellhole. And it was the same part that just let himself sink into the warm arms around him for now.
But he couldn't fight the feeling that this was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They weren't supposed to be in a situation where the Colonel was forced to feel like he needed to protect him like this. And Ed cursed Charles for it.
Ed didn't know when, but after a while, he fell asleep. He woke up early the next morning, finding that Mustang had moved the two of them so that he was now leaning his back against the wall with Ed still leaning on his chest. Mustang was sleeping, his head resting on top of Ed's. Ed suddenly heard footsteps crunching in the gravel outside the stable doors, and soon enough, there was Charles, pushing the red wheelchair in front of him. He stopped outside the cell door, smiling down at Ed.
Ed instinctively shifted in Mustang's arms, scared as hell by this man. He had a way too caring look upon his face. The slight movement caused torrents of pain to rip through him from the bullet wound in his thigh, the knife wound in his shoulder, as well as the broken toes, fingers and hand. Ed gasped with pain.
"Good morning, my dear Edward."
"Get away from me."
"Oh, but Edward, I explained this yesterday, don't you remember? Your opinion doesn't matter anymore. You two are my prize, and so you belong to me. You are my possession."
Mustang was shifting, and then he woke up with a grunt. The moment he lifted his head and saw Charles, the protective arms around Ed strengthened their grip. "Don't you touch him," Mustang growled.
"Oh, Roy, I am only going to wash his hair, nothing more."
"You what?"
"Such a beautiful child needs to be kept beautiful."
"So why have you hurt him like you have then?!"
"I would think that that was fairly obvious, Roy? He is defective. With his automail, the only part that can be preserved with its true beauty is the head. That is why I need to wash that beautiful golden hair daily. The rest is ripe for punishment."
Ed winced. The man really did think of him like a doll. Somehow the thought of the man washing Ed's hair was more terrifying than the torture he was subjecting them to. He didn't want to go with Charles, not at all.
"You're not taking him anywhere."
"That's not really your choice, Roy. I own you after all."
Charles opened the cell door, and Mustang put his left hand behind Ed's head, making him look away from the deranged man.
Ed didn't know what happened next, but all of a sudden Mustang screamed, holding Ed closer , forcing him to look away. Then Ed heard a sickening CRACK and he could only guess that Charles had broken Mustang's knee, most likely the one with the bullet wound.
"Now, Roy, if you would kindly release your hold on my dear Edward?"
"No," Mustang croaked.
"Dammit, Colonel! Just let me go!" Ed didn't want to sit here and listen to Mustang being tortured just because of a fucking hair wash.
But Mustang just tightened his hold, and suddenly Charles stomped down Ed's own bullet wound, making him shout out in pain.
"Language, Ed! How many times do I have to tell you that?!"
"Right, fine!" Ed shouted.
"Now, Roy! Let go of him, or I'll put another bullet in his leg, and you don't want that, now do you?"
Mustang gave Ed a swift squeeze and then lowered him to the floor. Ed couldn't help but be slightly relieved.
Then Charles came over and picked him up, dragging him over to the wheelchair and then lifted him none too gently into the wheelchair. Ed couldn't help but yelp repeatedly.
Then the damned psycho wheeled him out of the cell, slamming and locking the door behind him, before he pushed Ed outside, and Ed finally got a look of where they were. This was clearly an old farm, and Ed was pushed towards a white house that looked disturbingly cozy for the circumstances.
Then Ed was inside and was being pushed into a cozy, brightly painted kitchen. His head was then leaned backwards into the kitchen sink with a much gentler touch.
"So, calm down Edward, I'll just go and fetch the shampoo and a towel, and then I'll be right back."
Ed sat there, tension increasing by the second, not daring to move in fear of Charles deciding that it was time to break Mustang's other leg or something,
Then Charles was back, and he carefully found a handheld shower, he'd probably had it installed for just this sort of thing. He then stood there, waiting for the water to get warm, before he carefully began washing Ed's hair. "Such soft locks, my dear Golden Boy, so fitting for such beauty."
Ed shivered. This was, no doubt, the creepiest thing he would ever experience. Charles gently massaged the shampoo into his hair before he washed it out. He then dried Ed's hair with a towel before he gently brushed his hair. He couldn't help but shiver as the thought of how Charles had probably used that same brush on other kids who were all dead by now.
What Ed found really uncomfortable though, was the way Charles then plaited his hair. Ed could tell that the man must have studied how it usually looked, because it felt exactly the same.
He then pushed Ed outside again and the wheelchair crunched in the gravel.
"Hold it!" Someone shouted out.
Ed turned around, and his eyes fell upon a stranger wearing a military uniform. The man had glasses and black hair. And he had a gun pointed at Charles. "Step away from the boy!"
Charles answered with dragging Ed out of the wheelchair before crouching down on the ground while pressing a knife against Ed's throat so hard that it started bleeding. "I don't think so! He's mine! I won fair and square! He belongs to me now!"
The officer put down his gun, but then a shot rang out. Then Ed fell upon the ground on top of a now very dead Charles Hopkins. Ed looked around, and his eyes fell upon the stranger and Hawkeye running towards him.
Of course she had been the one to fire the shot.
The stranger pulled him off of Charles before he gently sat him up. Charles' knife had made a cut across his chest as they fell, but Ed didn't care.
"Ed, god. Listen, where's Roy?"
Ed was just confused. They were safe, just like that? The man had been tormenting and torturing them for one-and-a-half weeks, and was just gone?
He turned around, making sure that he wasn't being deceived. No. There he was, blood pouring slowly from a hole in the left temple.
"Roy?" Ed asked, unsure.
"Colonel Mustang, do you know where he is?"
"He's in a cell in the stables, you need a key, Charles has it."
Hawkeye moved to get it and was soon walking towards the building.
"Who are you?" Ed asked after a short while.
"Oh, yeah, sorry." He grinned. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes."
And so, I'm sorry to say, the next chapter is going to be the last...
(And I just needed Hawkeye to be the one who killed Charles. I had to let her have that at least after being locked inside an office for over a week.)