Chapter Two

As he walked toward the garbage bin, Roy was mobbed by the stray cats who knew he was a soft touch when it came to table scraps. He let them have the stewing chicken's skin and bones and some of the meat he knew he couldn't do much with. He had turned the wilted vegetables and the stewing chicken into stock for 'lost bread' soup so he could use up the really old bread and cheese. He had pigged out on that because the rest of the meal wasn't to his taste. His dad liked boiled chicken, grey, lifeless and it sickened Roy.

His father wouldn't allowed for 'fancy' foods, which in his rants were alternately queer or belonged to the rich milquetoasts. Either way, it was bad. Reminding his father that Mom had made roasted chickens and tossed in some herbs didn't impress the man. The one time Roy had tried to make one of the herb-rich dishes that Jenna had taught him, his father lit into him so badly he couldn't really sit for days. He could remember his father screaming that if he wanted to act like a girl he'd be sure to find someone to use him like one. At the time, it meant nothing. Now, being older, when he thought about it his skin crawled, knowing what his father meant. So food with taste had to wait for the times he could make it to the Ravensdale home. There, Jenna would feed him. She worried about him being too skinny.

When he had been smart enough to make up an excuse to go into town to arrange for another coal shipment, Roy had stopped at the Ravensdales' household. The alchemist was embroiled in his discussion with Hohenheim and didn't have time for Roy. Jenna, on the other hand, had stuffed him with roast beef sandwiches in a spicy gravy so he hadn't worried about missing the planned boiled chicken dinner at all. The cats could gladly have his portion. She'd fixed up his back then put him to work helping her with dyes. He had been bored with mordants and what flowers colored things what hue and as far as Roy had been concerned, it smelled worse than the paper mill. He had thought she was kidding about paying him to add to the pot that held the urine mordant and only managed to blush when he had found out she was serious. But at the end, she'd put coins in his hand and told him to tell his father Mrs. Wilson had hired him for a little day work at her pottery shop. The Wilsons were okay with Father and Jenna and Mrs. Wilson had arranged long ago for Roy to use her name whenever he stayed too long at the Ravensdales.

Going back inside the kitchen, Roy blew on his redden fingers. The night was bitterly cold. Walking into the living room he was surprised to see his father still in his chair, a bottle of beer in hand.

Jarrad pushed a lock of lank strawberry blonde hair out of his eyes. "What are you looking at?"

Roy didn't want to say anything but silence would have consequences. "I thought you'd be at work, sir."

"What do you care? Wanna read some more? You get yourself a new book?" His father leered at him, his lips twisting up his ruddy face in a frightening smile.

"No, sir." Roy swallowed hard.

"Liar." Jarrad swilled some beer, shifting his bulk around. "But since there's someone I want you to meet, I'll tell you. I switched nights with Thom because this is the only night Seth can come see you, so get those dishes done. No one wants to wait on you."

Nervous fingers tickled up Roy's back, his skin tightening. "Why would anyone want to meet me?"

Jarrad shifted his bulk as if to get up and come after Roy. The boy took two steps back. "Just shut your trap and get your chores done."

Roy didn't argue. He was just finishing up the dishes when he heard someone come in and his father hollered for him. Roy edged into the living room. None of Father's friends were people he wanted to know and this man as no exception. The man wasn't very big, not like father, whip thin with close cropped brown hair. He was cleaner than Father's friends usually were. The hardness in the eyes was familiar, though. Those snaky eyes studied him and a hint of a frightening smile creased the corners of the man's mouth.

"He's just like you said he was," the man said, an avaricious glint in his eyes.

"Told you, Seth. Get over here, Roy." His father jerked a hand at him. Roy didn't want to come any closer but he knew that wasn't a choice. When he didn't move fast enough, his father got up and dragged him over. He kept a ham-fist on Roy's shoulder.

"Easy on the merchandise, Jarrad," Seth said, then cupped Roy's chin. His hand was soft and uncalloused, not really like anyone's hand Roy had ever known. Fear tickled through the boy. "He's beautiful. I'll gladly pay the price I offered at the Pit."

Roy's stomach clenched. Pay? What had his father gotten him into? The mercenary glint in his father's watery eyes made everything inside Roy feel like it had turned to icy liquid. "Father?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Maybe he's worth more," Jarrad said, his dirty-nailed fingers tightening on Roy's shoulder.

Seth rolled his shoulders, turning Roy's head to one side then another, his grip so tight now Roy thought it would snap his jaw off. "Maybe."

"And I want a percentage," Jarrad said, smelling blood in the water. Roy started shaking, realizing his father meant to give him to this man for money.

Seth's snaky eyes narrowed. "That's not usual."

"I'm not greedy, ten percent of whatever you earn off of him," Jarrad said, the greed so apparent in his eyes that it put an instant lie to his words. Roy felt sickened.

"Done. He's untouched?" Seth moved his hand from Roy's chin to his shoulder as Jarrad backed off.

"As far as I know. Little boys don't do anything for me. I like a woman with some meat on her bones. Who knows what that alchemy freak Ravensdale has done with him." Jarrad shrugged, sending up a wave of stale body odor.

"Mr. Ravensdale would never hurt me!" Roy screamed, trying to pull away from the horrible man holding him.

"He's got a mouth on him," Jarrad said, his bulk rippling as he laughed sharply.

Seth ran a hand over Roy's lips. "And a pretty one it is. We'll put it to good use."

"Leave me alone," Roy said, tears of fear weeping from the corners of his eyes. He tried to swing on the man but Seth caught his wrist and whipped him over the arm of the couch.

Before Roy knew what was happening, that soft hand was inside his pants, fondling him, invading him. Trying to arch away, he screamed in pain and rage. Seth laughed. "Oh yes, someone will pay well to be the first here." The hand moved, caressing Roy's bruised backside and he thrashed but couldn't free himself from where he was bent over the arm of the couch.

"Good to know." Jarrad smirked. "At least he'll finally be worth something."

"No one cares how much of a virgin his mouth is. Mind if I take him for a test run?" Seth laughed harshly, running a hand through Roy's hair.

"Whatever." Jarrad waved a languid hand at the flesh peddler. "I'll be in the kitchen having a beer."

Roy shook hard, unable to believe his father truly hated him this much. He reached a hand out to him. "Please, Father."

"I warn you, Seth, he cries like a girl. He'll probably gag like one the first time, too." Jarrad slapped a hand into the wall, laughing. He sobered suddenly. "You are taking him to another town, right? I don't want anyone here buying him and knowing the useless pantywaist is mine."

"This town is too piss-ant for me to even bother with. Don't worry, I'll take him to Central. There's a huge market for kids there. Come on, you little brat, on your knees," Seth said, dragging Roy off the arm of the couch and trying to force him down.

Roy fought him but he was no match for the man's strength. Thin or not, Seth was solid muscle and he wrapped one hand tight around Roy's neck. The boy couldn't breathe. He sank to his knees, gasping, clawing at the man's hand. Seth crushed Roy's face into his crotch.

"Get used to this view, brat." Seth relaxed his grip a bit so he could struggle with his zipper.

Roy twisted fast and sank his teeth into the man's thigh so hard he could taste blood. Seth screamed and belted Roy with such force his ears rang as he crashed into the couch. He didn't give in to the roiling nausea the blow caused. While Seth was busy cursing him, holding a hand to his bleeding leg, and before his father could lumber out of the kitchen, Roy took off. He slammed open the front door and raced out into the frigid night air.

X X X

"Thanks for helping out, Hohenheim," Jenna said, setting down her lantern in the gathering snow.

"I did think you might be a little crazy to come flower picking in the snow at night," he replied with a smile.

"It's good to get them when the sap is down, less traumatic to the plant, hence coming at night. I wasn't counting on the snow but they're winter plants so we'll be fine. I don't even bother putting these in the gardens since they grow so readily everywhere." She gestured at the spidery golden flowers of a huge patch of witch hazel. "I'll handle gathering the witch hazel since I know what parts I need to make my medicines. Why don't you pick the Sweetbox, Hohenheim? All I need is the flowers to make sachets."

Hohenheim followed her outstretched fingers to the dense evergreen shrub overburdened with snowy flowers. He started picking them clumsily with his thickly gloved hands. He didn't really like the cold much, or having to wear heavy winter gloves. Sweet, vanilla-like scent perfumed the air as he plucked the flowers. "Your father seems taken with that boy who keeps coming around."

"Roy? Yes, it's good to have someone for Dad to talk to when I'm busy. I'm trying to convince him to help out at the school to give Dad something to do. Dad's dallying on that but helping Roy fills the void. Besides, Roy needs someone to talk to other than that lout of a father." Jenna started cutting down some witch hazel. "He's a bright boy but that man will be sure to waste all that potential."

"You have to wonder why, don't you?" Hohenheim sighed. He had seen things like this before. Some people didn't deserve children and then he thought of Trisha who had just told him there was a little one on the way. He had to wonder what sort of father he would be. Certainly better than one who beat his child.

"Ignorance? Jealousy? Who knows. I heard Dad talking to you about taking Roy out of here."

Jenna smiled over at him. "Are you planning on training him?"

Hohenheim shook his head, his blond ponytail whipping. "No, I'll look for a teacher for him though."

"I'm surprised." Jenna stuffed some witch hazel into her bag. "I would have thought you'd like to prove yourself as a teacher."

Hohenheim put some of the snowy blossoms to his cold, numb nose and breathed in deeply. "Any other time, I would take the boy. If nothing else, Pinako could put him to work in the workshop and teach him a trade. She could use some strong hands around."

"Roy can be lazy if you let him, I warn you now. I think he does for me simply so he won't have to go home. He'd rather sit around and read, which I suppose would make him an excellent alchemist. I don't see you and Dad doing much physical work unless you have to." She grinned at him.

Hohenheim laughed. "We do tend to live in our heads, yes. But right now I have all I can handle. Trisha's pregnant." He couldn't help the enormous happy smile that cut across his stubbly face.

"Oh, Hohenheim." Jenna kicked up snow as she ran over and squeezed him hard. "That is so wonderful. When were you planning on telling me?"

"I didn't mean to keep it a secret but once your father and I got talking, it got pushed back." He embraced the herbalist back. "She just found out."

Jenna headed back for her witch hazel patch. "I'm very happy for you two. Before you head back for Rezembool, I'll make sure you have lots of good herbal teas for morning sickness and some for later to help ease labor."

"Thanks, Jenna. I'm sure Trisha will really appreciate it. I won't leave without it and I guess, I'll need to go talk to Roy and see if he even wants to come along with me. I'll have to take him to Rezembool at first, of course, until I can find someone for him. I just don't think I could leave him here, not lowing what you and your father said he faces." Hohenheim's lips thinned. "My child isn't even born yet and I can't even bear to think of anyone hurting her or him and I couldn't sit by and watch someone else doing it."

"That's because you have a good heart. We do our best to help Roy out but the boy's not wrong. Our sheriff leaves a lot to be desired and he's drinking buddies with Roy's father. He's no help," Jenna said bitterly. "The sheriff's the next thing the alderman needs to address. If Dad and I tell Roy it's for his own good, I think he'll go with you, if you don't think Trisha would mind."

"I'll call and ask. If not, maybe Pinako will put him up for a while, though she has her hands filled with her daughter-in-law who's also pregnant." Hohenheim laughed ruefully. "Two good friends pregnant at the same time, it's going to be scary."

"Poor Roy will be hiding under the porch from crazed pregnant women." Jenna smirked, snagging some more witch hazel.

"Only if he can chase me out from under there." Hohenheim dropped some flowers into his sack.

"I'll double the amount of herbs I send with you," Jenna said. "And when you're done with the flowers, Hohenheim, you can start that way. See the pond? I want to get some cress from there and you can pluck rose hips there at the edge of the woods just beyond the pond."

"Oh great, give me the ones with thorns."

"You're a big tough alchemist. You can handle it."

X X X

Roy pounded over the field, not really sure where he was going. The night was so dark and the air thick with snowflakes. He didn't have a light and more than once he had fallen over something. His only saving grace was his father and Seth couldn't go any faster than he could. The advantage was still theirs with their longer legs and the fact his head had truly begun to hurt, his vision swimming from the blow Seth had struck him. Roy knew his only recourse was to get to the Ravensdales. The alchemist would help him but what if his father went after the blind man? What if Father killed Ravensdale? Did he dare risk their friendship, Ravensdale's life? What choice did he have?

No one else would help him and he couldn't escape alone. Maybe he could get to the train station. Even if he was kicked off at the next stop, he'd still be away from this place. Either way, he needed to get across the field. Even through the sweat of exertion and fear, Roy felt the bite of the wind. He didn't have on boots, coat or gloves. He wouldn't last long unless he got to a shelter of some sort.

Roy's foot clipped the edge of the pond and he skittered for a moment before going down. His legs slipped into the icy water to the knees. He rolled back up to his sopping feet, his toes so beyond numb they no longer seemed a part of him. He tried to run but the wet socks tore his flesh, almost instantly raising blisters.

He shrieked in fear the moment the hand came down on his shoulder. Seth twirled Roy around and cocked back his fist. It slammed hard into the boy's stomach. Roy doubled up, the wind knocked out of him. He tried to run but he couldn't draw breath so he did the best he could. He tromped on Seth's foot with all his strength and forced his icy, burning legs to move.

Roy only got a few steps before his father grabbed him. Roy's head spun as he was whipped around, finding himself staring at the huge fleshy obstacle that his father presented. When Jarrad's fist hit, Roy found himself face down in the snow, spitting blood before he could think to brace himself. Roy coughed, pain overwhelming him. Blood spattered from his lips into the snow.

"Don't mar that pretty face, Jarrad. It'll affect the price," Seth warned, irritated.

"Don't bitch, at least the little jackrabbit's down." Jarrad planted a heavy foot on Roy's back, weighing him down.

Roy couldn't force his father off but he could get his hand into his pocket. He fumbled with the slick lighter hiding there and dragged it out, hoping the snow wouldn't wet the flint. With his other hand, he drew an array with the blood weeping from his busted mouth. How small could he draw an array and have it work? He knew he had no choice but to try it. He only prayed they didn't know what he was doing.

"You little bastard, that really hurt. I don't want to mess you up but you need to learn a lesson." Seth grinned at him so coldly it seemed to sear Roy even through the darkness. "First lesson is a good chase gets my blood up. The second is I'll lie to a customer about things like your virginity, and you'll learn fast to never tell them the truth. You owe me a test run and when my blood's up...you won't like this," Seth grabbed Roy's waistband.

The boy couldn't help the scream that tore out of his throat as his finger frantically flicked, drawing a pattern he knew well now.

"Ain't it a little cold out here for this?" Jarrad asked.

"I'll warm myself inside of him," Seth replied with a low chuckle, trying to jerk Roy's pants down. His cold hand reached inside, grabbing the boy roughly.

Roy cried out again, slamming his hand down on the array as he prayed for a miracle. His finger turned the lighter's flywheel and he hoped for flame.