Hello everybody!
Fair warning – this chapter is a lot longer than a normal one. This was one of the ones I had to rewrite completely, to fix the flow and pacing. Problem is, it was already long – and I forgot that I tend to add length when I rewrite, not remove it. So now it's super long. Hope that's cool with everybody.
Please enjoy!
. . .
The house was old and decrepit; but not as bad as Envy had expected, after hearing that it had been abandoned for at least a decade. It was a mess, with holes in some of the walls and broken furniture everywhere. But at least it had a roof on it, still.
There seemed to be some pretty strong emotions tied to it, too – Hawkeye kept her expression carefully guarded as she led the way. He wondered idly what had happened there. He supposed it wasn't his business.
"You'll have to excuse the state it's in," she said, dropping her small bag onto a table that looked like it might collapse if a feather landed on it wrong. "I'll do my best to clean up; but we'll have to make do with what we have, to an extent."
"I can help," Al said. "I'll transmute some stuff back together. We can at least get some working furniture, and fix any holes that lead to outside."
She smiled at him.
"Thank you, Alphonse. I'd appreciate that."
Roy's eyes lit upon a fireplace in the corner. "I'll get that started. It's damn cold in here."
Hawkeye nodded – though, Envy noticed, she looked as if she were congratulating a child on their 'help' cooking dinner.
Everyone got started on their respective tasks, leaving Envy alone with Ed.
Immediately, he noticed that the blonde was behaving strangely; fidgeting, and staring at everything but Envy. Envy sighed, hoping that he hadn't somehow managed to break the fragile peace they had created between them.
"What's wrong this time?"
Ed jumped, as if he had forgotten Envy was even there. "Nothing," he said, crossing his arms.
"Fine, don't tell me. I've played therapist enough recently, anyway."
Not wanting to stand around doing nothing next to a grumpy alchemist, he left to explore the house. Once he worked past the terrible state the place was in – which was easy for him; he'd been in worse lodgings – he was actually fairly impressed.
The space taken up by the house was massive, for Central – a city where even high-ranking soldiers often lived in apartments. This meant one of two things. Either the house was very old, and had been built before the inner city – or Hawkeye's family had been extremely wealthy.
Perhaps that explained how the Flame Alchemist had been able to pay for his military training.
He could also tell the house had belonged to an intellectual; while the books themselves were gone, there were enough bookcases lining the walls to start a library. He noticed that Al and Hawkeye had started removing a couple; probably so Al could transmute some beds together, or something.
Envy stepped on something as he continued exploring; it crunched under his bare foot. He paused to look down at it. It looked like a photograph; old, and yellowed at the edges. He picked it up to inspect it.
It was an older-style portrait of a middle-aged man, with long, sandy hair tied behind his head. His face was thin, and drawn; but he had a solid chin.
Envy could see the resemblance, faint as it was, in the man's brown eyes. This was Hawkeye's father. It had to be; the age of the photograph, and the physical similarities, left no room for doubt.
He moved to put the photograph down; but something stopped him at the last moment. Instead, he looked around to be sure no one was watching him. Then, on a whim, he stuffed it down his shirt.
He didn't even really know what he planned to do with it. He just felt an absurd urge to keep it on his person. He definitely didn't want anyone to see him being weird, when he couldn't put his reasoning into words. It would only serve as cause for suspicion.
"What now?" He asked himself. There wasn't much for him to do, while he waited for the others to ready the house. And he certainly wasn't going back to hang out with Edward.
He thought of the photo in his shirt. He was pretty sure he had seen a bathroom down the hall; and there was something he wanted to try.
He found the room quickly. He knocked to be sure it wasn't occupied; then stepped inside and closed the door.
He pulled out the photograph he had found, then glanced back at the door. He still had no idea if this would actually work; he had honestly expected to test it out with Lust, before she had decided to run rather than engage. A twinge of fear trailed up his spine. What if it didn't work?
Well, there was no better time than the present to find out.
He looked at the image one last time, taking in every detail. Then he closed his eyes, and focused his mind on the man he had seen. Down to the last detail; the sicky pallor of his skin. The way his eyes were just a little sunken-in. He felt the spark of alchemy light at the crown of his head, and travel quickly down the length of his body. Butterflies flew to life in his stomach, and he had to restrain himself from giggling in excitement.
As the energy died down around him, he realised he was still afraid to open his eyes. Everything pointed to his experiment being a success – but what if it wasn't? What if he was wrong? What if Edward had been wrong?
He took a look at himself – and sighed in relief as he saw not himself in the mirror, but the man in the photo.
He turned around slowly, inspecting his form for any weak points. It was flawless; exactly what he would have hoped for before his… sickness. Had Hawkeye's father not been deceased, he could have fooled her with this at an instant.
He couldn't help but grin, despite the fact that this single shift had already drained his energy. He might not be back where he was used to, yet – but he would get there. This experiment had proven that.
Someone gasped behind him, making him jump. Instinctively, he was back in his regular form before he had even realised he was shifting back.
Looking in the mirror, he realised that Hawkeye had opened the door and seen him. She fell back from the doorway a second later, but he had seen enough. He found himself wondering, not the first time, just what had happened between her and her father.
He spun to face the door, hoping she was still out there.
"Sorry! I uh, I wasn't expecting anyone to walk in."
She reappeared; any trace of horror had fled from her face, but her posture was still tense and guarded.
"Might I ask what you were doing?"
He sighed, and held out the photo to her. She took a look at it.
"Honestly," he said, "I was testing."
Her eyebrows jumped slightly. "Testing what?"
"That was the first time I've used my powers since I got injured. I wasn't sure if I still could."
She sighed. "So you stole a photograph of my father and used that, because…"
"I don't know! I didn't want to use anyone who's here; that felt weird. And I couldn't use anyone from my old life, for obvious reasons."
"No, I don't suppose you could."
She looked back at the photo one last time, took a deep breath, and then did the last thing Envy had expected – she smiled at him.
"Well, I suppose I can't blame you for that. It's only natural that you'd be curious. But how about we stick to other forms, from now on? I have an uncomfortable family history."
"Yeah, I figured."
She looked confused. He clarified.
"You've been acting weird since Sparky brought this place up. I won't ask about it; but I thought you should know that you've done a piss-poor job of hiding it."
She hid her face in her palm. "Great; that obvious?"
"I'm good at reading people."
"Clearly."
She still sounded uncomfortable; but it wasn't outright hatred, and he could accept that. He could tell he hadn't done anything to seriously piss her off; and the realisation relieved him.
After all, this was the Flame Alchemist's queen. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.
"Once everyone's had a chance to get settled, we should go over the plan," she said. "We need to get moving as fast as possible; just in case Lust decides to tell your master that you're trying to make backroom deals with the other homunculi."
He froze.
"I hadn't even thought about that. You're right. Alright, no more playing with my powers for now; got it."
He mock saluted her, and that cautious smile returned to her face.
"I'll leave you to it."
She left. Envy leaned forwards onto the counter, resting his head on the cool stone.
He was already getting used to the idea that he wasn't going back to Dante – to the point where Hawkeye's casual use of the phrase 'your master' had shaken his composure. Because honestly, he didn't see her that way anymore.
He would have to talk to the others about not calling her that.
He looked back up at the mirror, and jumped. He had seen a ghost – the look in his own eyes.
He hadn't seen himself like this in almost two hundred years. He was changing. Whether it was in a good or bad way, he wasn't sure yet. But he knew that whatever it was, it was irrevocable.
He sighed, and stomped out of the bathroom. This wasn't the time for introspection. They had work to do.
. . .
"So, how do we get a civil war started?"
"You should be answering that question, Envy – not asking it. You're the one who's done it before."
"Yeah; by shapeshifting and murdering innocents. I'm not so sure you'll like that method. Let me rephrase; what's the good guy way of starting a civil war?"
Roy paused.
"That actually brings up an interesting moral debate. Remind me to discuss that with you, later."
Envy scoffed. "You want to have a conversation with me? Who the hell are you, again?"
"You brought up a topic I find interesting. Sue me."
"Could we somehow involve the other members of the team?" Hawkeye asked. Ed sat up.
"I don't want to drag more people into this mess than we have to."
"It's not 'dragging them into it'," Roy said. "I pay their salaries; they'll do what I tell them to."
"Wow. You really care about your subordinates, don't you?"
"It's better than paying them to sit at the office all day, doing nothing!"
"You're one to talk!"
"Enough of that," Hawkeye said, making a move as if to reach for her gun. They both quietened.
"Ed," she said, "I understand your concerns. But they're all adults. They knew exactly what they were getting into when they signed up for this line of work – perhaps better than you did. It's not your job to protect everyone; just your brother, Do that, and you're doing everything you need to."
As annoyed as Ed looked, Envy knew he wouldn't be able to argue with her brilliant logic. And he was proven right when, a moment later, Ed visibly deflated.
"Alright, fine. But what are you even going to use them for?"
"Excuse me for interjecting," Envy said, "But this might be the point where I walk in."
"What are you suggesting?"
"I can shapeshift, remember? All I have to do is walk around as a solider, do something awful, and say it's 'Fuhrer's orders'. Then your guys can come in to play the other side – 'look how horrible this is; we can't support this!' Easy."
"Did we forget that for this plan to work, you have to do something horrible? What happened to the 'good guys' method?"
"Okay, fine," he said. "I don't have to do something horrible. If I can pose as someone high-ranking enough, all I have to do is give a horrible order. Could even give it to your men; then they're really motivated to make as much noise as possible about how much it sucks."
Roy's eyes darkened; calculating, again. Always calculating, that man was.
"I'm high ranking," he finally said.
"No," Hawkeye said, before he could even finish the thought. Her eyes had grown desperate and pleading.
"Sir, I can't let you do that. You're not sacrificing everything you've worked for. Not over this. It's not worth it."
"To save lives?" He countered. "How could that not be worth it?"
"You'd be a war criminal, after everything's said and done. No matter which side won; neither would look favourably upon you."
"I already am a war criminal," he pointed out, his cold tone making her flinch. "How exactly does this make any difference?"
"We might not have to resort to that," Al said. Everyone turned to look at him.
"Why not? What are you thinking?"
"He just has to be a high-ranking official. That doesn't have to be you, Colonel. It just has to be someone who can give your men orders, and who conveniently won't be around to expose the fake."
"So, you're suggesting we kill them?"
"No! God, no. We just have to distract them. After Envy's finished, it doesn't really matter what they have to say about it – no one's going to believe them when they say 'but that wasn't me'; not if everyone saw them do it. They'll look insane. We have to remember that most people aren't going to assume 'shapeshifter' like we do."
No one responded except Envy, who chuckled quietly to himself. Al looked around.
"What?"
"Whoa," Ed said, flinching. "That's a bit cold, little brother."
"It's not that bad, is it?"
"it is totally that bad," Envy said, still laughing. "You're talking about pinning a war crime on an innocent man. But hell, I can get behind that. I've pinned worse on innocent men."
"So we pick someone who's not innocent. I imagine there's a high concentration of corrupt soldiers in the upper ranks."
"Are you really trying to justify this?" Ed asked.
"When the alternative is hundreds of people dying to create a stone? Yes, Brother. I'm pretty sure I can live with one corrupt man being blamed for something he didn't do. And that's if he gets blamed – again, the plan is to make it very clear that these orders are coming from the Fuhrer."
More silence. He rubbed his neck, flushing.
"Look, you guys asked for the 'good guys' alternative to Envy's usual strategy. I'd argue that this is the good guys alternative. We need people to think Fuhrer Bradley's doing something horrible. We can't really get that idea across in a way that doesn't leave any victims. So the next best thing we can do is pick a victim who deserves it."
Ed still seemed uncomfortable with the idea; but Envy knew the kid was right. They had no other options; they needed this plan. The only way they stood even the faintest chance against Dante was by taking some of the homunculi out of play.
"Okay, I gotta stand with the kid on this one," he said aloud. "I know my stamp of approval isn't exactly the most reassuring, but I don't see anyone else coming up with a better idea. And no, I don't think getting our strongest ally-" he said, looking pointedly at Roy, "arrested for war crimes is a 'better idea'."
"Strongest ally? I'm touched."
"I still don't like you. But if worse comes to worse, you're our best shot at winning. You have experience in war and you have flame alchemy. I think we need to be very careful about throwing that away."
Roy considered Envy's words, then smirked.
"I never picked you for a strategist. I suppose that only makes sense, though, given your role with Dante. I think you're right about this."
"Great. So, anyone have any corrupt soldiers they'd like to volunteer for a few years in prison?" Envy asked, directing it towards the group at large.
Roy was the first to speak.
"There is Brigadier-General Norov. He committed some hefty war crimes during Ishbal. He also stole my lunch that one time…"
"He also helped out greatly in the Tucker case," Hawkeye pointed out. "Are we really going to throw a fellow soldier under the bus?"
"Nobody likes this idea, Lieutenant. But I thought Envy and I just agreed that no one else had a better solution. Are we wrong?"
The room fell so silent, one could almost imagine it was empty.
"Alright, no. We're not wrong; no one has a better plan. So we'll have to use this one. Is there another soldier you'd prefer to throw under the bus? Because I was under the impression you had your own issues with Norov…"
The look in his eyes was clearly insinuating something; though Envy couldn't tell what. Finally, Hawkeye sighed in defeat.
"Alright, fine. Brigadier-General Norov it is."
Roy leaned in closer to Envy. "He stops at a café on First Street for breakfast every morning," he said, as if discussing the weather. "That's probably our best chance to catch him. I'll just happen to be in the area as he's ordering. Then I'll suggest that we sit and eat together; my treat. That should buy you enough time to get in and out."
"I'll need to see a picture of the guy. I have no idea who this 'Norov' is; I don't know what he looks like."
Roy considered this.
"What if I could arrange something better?"
"Like what?"
"Like you being able to meet him in person."
Now Envy was interested. He leaned forwards himself.
"I mean, that works. How do you plan on accomplishing that?"
"Can you shapeshift right now? Or do you need more time to recover?"
Envy shared a glance with Hawkeye.
"Yeah, I can do it… Why?"
. . .
"This is a little more disconcerting than I thought it would be," Roy muttered, as he led Envy through the corridors of Central HQ.
"You think you're uncomfortable?" Envy asked, with Hawkeye's voice. He was seriously regretting his choice to come here alone with the Flame Alchemist – he half-expected him to turn and snap his fingers at any moment, even though he knew he would never do that. Not right now, in public, while he was wearing the face of Roy's most trusted subordinate.
They turned down another corridor, and came to an ornate door. Roy knocked once, then turned to Envy.
"I won't be able to stall for long; so don't waste time. Get the information you need, and tell me when you're finished."
Envy nodded, and then blew his blonde fringe out of his face. Roy opened the door, and entered the room with Envy in tow.
It was immediately apparent that this man was very high-ranking. His office was spacious and inviting; and more important, solitary. Nothing like the shared office spaces that the rank-and-file soldiers were made to work in. A decidedly slimy-looking soldier sat at the desk, watching Roy.
"This is a surprising visit, Colonel Mustang. What do you need from me?"
Envy moved to the side of the room, pretending he was just being deferential – really, he was trying to get a better view of Norov. He immediately ran into a serious problem.
Norov was seated, which meant Envy couldn't get a good read on his height. He could guess within a reasonable margin, if need-be – but that was risky.
Hughes had caught him out on a damn mole. Something like height could be a dead giveaway, if he got it too far from the mark.
He focused on memorising every detail he could. Norov had jet-black hair similar to Roy's – but his looked like it hadn't been washed in a few weeks. His eyes were that obnoxious Amestrian blue that typically looked like the sky; but his held something cold and hard. They looked more like icy lakes.
He was in the middle of committing the shape of Norov's chin to memory when he noticed his eyes shift in his direction – and stared down at the floor, trying to disguise his own obvious inspection.
"And you, Lieutenant Hawkeye; have you reconsidered my previous offer?"
Envy looked straight to Roy for direction. He had no idea what kind of offer this was, or what his answer should be. His gut twisted, when he noticed that Roy's jaw had clenched.
"Need I remind you of the laws against fraternisation within the military, Brigadier?"
"That's never bothered you, before."
"The suggestion that I'm dating my Lieutenant…"
Norov rolled his eyes.
"I am well aware of the law, Colonel. Shame; I see she's still under your thumb, then." His eyes met Envy's again, and he shivered.
"Well, let me know when you finally get sick of him. I'll be here when you're ready for something new."
Envy felt like he was going to be sick at the insidious implication behind Norov's words. He suddenly felt very sorry for whatever Hawkeye was dealing with from this guy – and understood why Roy wanted him gone.
Before he realised what he was doing, he had taken a step forwards. Roy raised a hand to stop him.
"Sir, please," Envy said, putting on his best Hawkeye deadpan. Roy froze; and Envy swore he saw a hint of fear in his eyes, as he glanced at Envy's – empty – holster.
He turned back to Norov and spoke, keeping his tone as even as he imagined the Hawk's Eye would.
"With all due respect; Brigadier-General; you may ask me to 'reconsider' as many times as you wish. It's not going to change my answer. I joined the military to protect and serve, not to be a fellow soldier's plaything. If you have any further concerns related to my work, please let me know. I'll be happy to discuss them."
He realised at the last moment that he may have gone too far, and threw in a respectful bow to soften the blow. He didn't want to get her in trouble; and he certainly didn't want to blow his cover by being insubordinate.
He noticed with some glee that his actions held an unintentional benefit – in his shock, Norov had risen to his feet.
Five-foot ten. Thanks, moron.
With that, he smirked and cast his eyes to Roy.
"I don't believe we need to keep the Brigadier-General any longer – do you? He's a very busy man, and I wouldn't want to get in the way of his work."
Roy managed to pull himself together well enough to answer.
"I think you're right, Lieutenant. Speaking of work, we should get back to ours."
He bowed to Norov, wishing him a pleasant day, and followed Envy out of the room.
As Envy had expected, once they were out of earshot, Roy immediately rounded on him.
"That was foolish."
"I know. But I've never been good at keeping my cool; and besides, I couldn't stand the way that creep was talking to her. It's gonna be fun to send that jerk to prison."
"Says the man who started a civil war."
"Even I have standards. I don't fuck with sexual harassment. I'm not that much of an asshole."
He became uncomfortable with the look in Roy's eyes, and started fidgeting.
"Perhaps I misjudged you," was all Roy said aloud.
"Whatever. Let's get out of here, before someone sees us. We did what we came here for."
"You're sure you won't forget?"
"Please. I'm not an amateur."
He didn't add that he had once portrayed a soldier well enough from a single glance to fool Hughes; at least for a few minutes. The memory made his gut twist again, hard.
Roy's dark eyes narrowed.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Let's go."
He started walking off, leaving no room for argument. Roy rushed to follow him, and they left.
Envy tried to ignore the ball forming in his stomach.
. . .
"Did you do it?" was the first thing Ed asked, once they returned. Roy cast another suspicious glance at Envy, who had returned to his normal form, before answering.
"Envy says he got what he needed. So our next step from here is clear."
"Right. We need to set the bait."
Ed still seemed uncomfortable; his shoulders were held high with tension, and his fists were clenched. Envy could guess why; he still didn't like the idea of starting a civil war.
Envy couldn't say he blamed him for that.
There was something else, there, too – something that bothered Envy immensely. He liked to think he knew the Pipsqueak well enough by now to tell when something was wrong; and something was definitely wrong.
The problem was that he had no idea how to approach the situation. Maybe it was better to let Alphonse handle it; he tended to be a lot better with words. And if Envy could tell something was off, he was certain Al would be able to, as well.
Besides, it might be better not to draw too much attention. He still wasn't ready to have The Conversation with Edward – he had no idea how the boy would react, and he didn't want to open that can of worms while they still had a battle looming on the horizon. So he would leave it, for now, and hope that Al could handle it.
"When should I do the deed?" he asked, directing the question straight at Roy. "Soon, I'm guessing?"
"As soon as you're ready," Roy confirmed. "We should get this ball rolling sooner, rather than later; it may take some time to get the results we need."
"And that way, if it doesn't work out how we're hoping, we have time to come up with another plan," Al added. "We still don't know for sure that this will actually start an uprising. When you look at the Ishbal massacre, almost no one who wasn't Ishbalan was protesting."
Roy scratched his chin idly. "That is a potential problem. The average citizens weren't really affected by the treatment of Ishbalans; so a lot of them didn't care. It was worse within the military, of course; but I saw the sentiment within the civilian community, too."
He turned to Envy. "Whatever you say, it will need to be very inflammatory."
"You don't need to worry about that. I'm good at inflammatory."
"We noticed. Which, luckily, works in our favour right now."
Envy chose to be the bigger person, and ignore the jab.
"Alright, we'll try to do it tomorrow. That should give me time to figure out what I'm going to say; and you said he stops at that café for breakfast, right?"
Roy nodded.
"Can I count on you guys to be ready for whatever might come after?" Envy asked. "I'm not sure how this is all going to go down. Last time I started a war, there was a fight on the scene. I barely got out of there."
"You can rely on us as much as we can rely on you."
He shrugged. "Well, I know I'm not planning on betraying you. So that's actually really reassuring."
"We'll see."
Envy rolled his eyes.
"Look, I thought we were past the sniping. I get it; you don't trust me. Nobody trusts me; and believe it or not, I actually understand that! I thought we were supposed to be on the same team, here."
"We are."
"And you know what's really awful for team morale? Constantly fighting with each other. I should know; I lived in that environment for years. So quit it, already. Let's just try to get along with each other until this is all over."
The room went silent. Hawkeye nudged Roy, who blinked and spoke.
"Alright. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you have a point. I'll give it a rest."
"We apologise," Hawkeye added, giving Roy a sharp glare. "That's what the Colonel meant to say."
"I don't need a damn apology," Envy grumbled. "I just need everyone to not be on my ass while I'm trying to help you. Please and thank you."
They had dinner after that; but the atmosphere was never quite able to recover from the spat that had occurred. Envy just hoped bringing it up had been a good idea; he always took things too damn far.
. . .
"Yes? You asked for me?"
Sloth flicked her long, dark hair back over her shoulder, and glanced at Lust. She seemed more… fidgety than usual. Something was bothering her; but Sloth couldn't be bothered to ask what. It was no concern of hers, anyway – if she knew Lust, she was probably still just sore over losing Envy.
Sloth couldn't say she blamed her. None of them had ever known a world without Envy. He had been there long before any of them; and if she was being honest, most of them had expected him to be there long after. It would take time to adjust to the new reality.
But adjust they would, just like they always had.
Dante looked over, noticing her for the first time.
"Good, you're here. I've heard strange reports from the town of Dublith; it's south of here."
"I've heard of it," Lust said, snapping to attention.
"Good; you can go with her, then."
"What reports?" Sloth asked. "And why can't Pride handle this himself? Surely that would be less suspicious."
"Not that kind of report. There have been rumours of a strange boy roaming the town. Nobody knows exactly where he came from, but I've heard he was soaking wet when he first appeared – as if he had been swimming. I think he came from that island in the middle of Yock lake."
Lust's nose crinkled.
"Quite the stretch. Isn't that island uninhabited?"
Dante smiled.
"I happen to know of a woman in that town who committed the taboo – about a decade ago. I believe the results of that fateful night may just now be materialising."
"You think he's one of us?" Sloth asked, finally starting to understand. Dante nodded, and her grin widened.
"Everything I've heard points to this child being a homunculus. I believe he was created in that woman's transmutation; I've been waiting for him for a long while now. It seems he was shy."
"Curious," Lust said, her brow furrowing.
"What is?" Sloth asked.
"The fact that this boy already has a human form. The fact that he survived this long. Usually, that requires red stones. Where did he get them from, if not us?"
"That's none of your concern," Dante said; her tone unusually harsh.
Lust couldn't help herself; a brief flare of rage rose within her.
"Not our concern? If homunculi are able to get red stones from another source, don't you think Envy could be doing the same thing? If traitors are able to sustain themselves away from you, I would think you'd find that very relevant."
Her mind whirred to life. Envy had mentioned that he had run out of red stones. Logically, that should have cost him his life. But he had also mentioned that the Elric brothers had found a way to save him.
She considered bringing this up to Dante – then, in a move that shocked even her, decided against it. That might give Dante the impression that they had somehow found a philosopher's stone; and Lust highly doubted that was the case. Those boys had an awfully stubborn moral compass. Now that they had decided the stone was 'wrong', she would be surprised if they ever used it.
She had already said too much, in any case – Dante towered above her, despite being roughly the same height; and her cold glower was enough to make Lust's bones shiver.
"It's not up to you what's relevant or not. Don't forget your place, Lust."
She tried to shut her mouth; knew that she had to. Her heart told her to do something else.
"But it doesn't feel rational to ignore a threat like this. Anyway; doesn't it make sense to learn as much about the homunculi as we can? If there's another way for us to survive, that doesn't rely on the red stones – isn't that important?"
"No, it's not," Dante countered smoothly. "The only things that are important are what I tell you are important."
She looked Lust up and down, and pursed her lips.
"Hmm. Perhaps you worked too closely with Envy, for too long. Do I need to worry about you, Lust?"
Lust's fear finally won out. She dropped her head submissively to the ground.
"No, you don't."
"Good. Now, I won't argue about this any longer. Go find this boy, and bring him back here. I've been looking to replace Envy for a while, anyway. This new homunculus might do the trick."
They nodded, and left. As they walked away, Sloth leaned in closer.
"You really shouldn't talk back to her like that. Not right now."
Lust bit back her retort; about how she only wanted what was best for them. It wouldn't do any good; even if she was right, Sloth was in no position to agree. She needed to secure her own position; for which Lust couldn't stand to blame her.
Envy's words kept flooding back to her mind; he had said that Dante didn't care about them. That she would abandon them in a heartbeat to serve her own goals.
She didn't want to believe it. She wanted to ignore it, and go about her life. But she had presented information that she believed was highly valuable, considering that Dante had always told her the point of all of this was to protect them – information that could save them.
And Dante had just… ignored it. Like it didn't even matter.
Like they didn't even matter.
Had Envy been right all along?
"Let's just get this over with," she said, pretending the argument had never even happened. She just needed to clear her head, that was all; and she didn't think she could do that in this increasingly empty mansion.
. . .
Envy found himself alone with Ed for the first time in a while. As the uncomfortable silence grew between them, a question rose in his mind.
Should he ask about what was bothering him?
He had wanted to let Al handle it; but it honestly didn't look like he had noticed. Although, he couldn't really blame him for that – he could tell that Al was off in his own head, too. He had been ever since the topic of Hughes had come up.
And with that reminder, once again, Envy felt like he was being stabbed repeatedly in the stomach.
He shook himself back to the present. This might be the perfect opportunity for him to ask about what was going on. Without the Flame Alchemist around, he recognised that Ed was less likely to put up a front – although, that also depended on how trusted Envy was.
He decided to give it a try.
"So, do you want to talk about it?"
The words had been simple enough; but the effect they had was immense. Ed's shoulders dropped, and his head lowered as if he could no longer hold it up.
"What are you talking about?"
Envy cocked his head to the side, and crossed his legs. "You've been upset since we got here."
Ed spun to face him; his eyes wide.
"How did you know that?"
"Please. I've known you for five years, and I'm good with emotional tells."
"We fought for five years, you mean," Ed corrected. His lips tilted into the barest of smiles.
"It counts! We still knew each other. And don't distract me – you were supposed to be telling me what's wrong, damnit. I'm trying to do the right thing, here!"
Ed shivered. "I still feel weird hearing you say that."
Envy glared at him. He raised his hands.
"Alright, fine."
His fists clenched, and he stared back down at the floor.
"I'm just… Still coming to terms with the fact that I don't have my alchemy anymore."
"Don't tell me."
"I feel useless," Ed admitted. "Al's running around like a headless chicken, transmuting this place back together. Even Colonel Bastard's doing something useful, for once. And it all just highlighted that I can't do that anymore."
He dropped to a chair. "As much as I don't regret giving it up – and don't you ever tell Alphonse I said this – it hurts. It feels like part of me is missing."
Before he even realised what was happening, Envy found himself laughing. Ed stopped talking to shoot a poisonous glare.
"I'm sorry," Envy said, still laughing. He wiped a tear from his eye.
"It's just… If you'd said all this to me a year ago, I would've agreed with you."
"Gee, thanks."
"I'm not finished yet!" He hit Ed over the head.
"My point was – to hear you say that now, that you're useless; that's just hilarious to me."
"Again, thanks. I regret this."
"No, Pipsqueak, that's not what I mean! You saved my damn life. You saved your brother's life. And you're calling yourself useless? Come on, get real. I've thought a lot of bad things about you, in my life – but I have never pictured you as the insecure type."
He grinned, and punched Ed in the shoulder.
"Even without alchemy, you're far from useless. I can't believe you'd be dumb enough to think that you are. You're a prodigy alchemist who saved the world in your teens – cut yourself some slack."
Ed didn't seem to have a response to that; or to Envy's casual attitude. They fell into another long silence – but unlike most, this one was far more comfortable than he had grown used to.
Sitting in this room, he realised for the first time that a strange metamorphosis had taken place. He was no longer sitting across from an enemy. He didn't feel cagey, or defensive, or worried. He felt… relaxed. As if, just for once, he could feel totally confident that he was safe here. And he realised, in that moment, that he couldn't remember the last time he had felt that way.
At least, until he fell asleep that night. Then it all came flooding back.
. . .
He was sitting with Mary on a grassy field, watching the sunset. She kept casting glances in his direction, but he couldn't figure out why – until she worked up the courage to speak her mind.
"We could leave."
He turned to face her.
"What?"
"Your mother… I don't mean to intrude. Really, I don't. But she sounds… Well, she sounds quite wicked. You know well that my father's of the same vein."
"Yeah," he said, his hands clenching on the edge of his shirt at the memory.
"Why don't we just run away together?"
He laughed. "And do what?"
"We… We shall join the circus! I've seen you on the tightrope, Envy – you're spectacular!"
"You speak of the time I very nearly died? You call that 'spectacular'?"
He pushed at her shoulder; but he was laughing too hard for his words to contain any true malice. "I was showing off. It was foolish."
"Why were you showing off?"
He fell silent. His cheeks began to feel warm. She gasped.
"You blush, Envy! You do want to run away with me, after all!"
"I do not!"
"Then why are you roughly the same colour as a cooked lobster? You might have the fairest and daintiest complexion of any man I've yet seen, but I have not seen you burn yet."
She giggled. Then she sobered, staring off into the sunset from their vantage point on the grass.
"I mean it, though."
"Mean what?"
"We could do it. We could just leave, and no one would know any different."
And in that moment, he genuinely considered it. They could start a new life, somewhere out there. He probably couldn't give her children; he had no idea how any of that worked with homunculi; but they could adopt, if she wanted children so badly.
They could be happy.
He thought of his mother – and suddenly, the thought of leaving made him feel sick.
"No," he said, shaking
his head. "We couldn't."
"Your brother did."
His lip dropped open. He hadn't even thought of Greed for almost a year. He was surprised that Mary even remembered him.
He thought of where Greed actually was; trapped in a series of transmutation circles under the Earth. Locked in a perpetual sleep, until such time as Dante once again had use for him. He had not the heart to tell Mary that his brother hadn't actually managed to escape.
"I'm not him," he said, finally. "He left because he cares little for anyone except himself. There are people in my life I do care about; too much to simply abandon them."
He realised that he wasn't only speaking of Greed, anymore. He bit his cheek; and his shark-teeth drew blood. He stared at the ground, wishing that it would swallow him.
"Think about it," she said.
"Me? You're the one who should think about this. What would we do, Mary? What would you do? We hardly have any prospects…"
"I don't need prospects! I've come to realise that I don't need a lot of things in this world, Envy. I do need you, and I'm afraid. I'm terribly afraid that you'll be taken from me."
"That won't happen."
"How do you know that?"
He looked into her eyes, and realised that he didn't.
"I promise," he said.
"Oh? And I can trust a promise from someone who's named after a deadly sin?" she teased.
"Always – I'm named for jealousy, remember. You don't think I'd let that awful father of yours steal you away from me?"
She leaned into him.
"It's not my father I'm worried about."
He ignored her. None of it mattered now, anyway. They were here, together, in a moment he wished would last forever – as much as he knew in his heart that it couldn't.
When he woke up, he realised that Ed was staring at him strangely from across the room. He was pulling a face, as if Envy had done something weird. But Envy knew that couldn't be possible, because he had been asleep.
"What?" he asked.
"You were talking in your sleep," Ed explained, as if it were no big deal.
To Envy, it was the worst answer he could have gotten.
"God, no…"
"Who's Mary?"
He froze.
"No one," he said. He got out of bed, and started getting ready for the day.
"I'm asking to bunk with the Tin Can, tonight," he threw over his shoulder as he left. He regretted his harsh choice of words almost immediately; it wasn't Ed's fault, after all. It was only natural he would be curious.
But he wasn't ready to talk about it, and he wouldn't pretend he was. If he was talking in his sleep, more questions would only pop up as time passed.
Especially since Mary was far from the worst thing that had been on his mind, recently.
He bit the thought back; almost physically. He wasn't going to do this right now. Not today, of all days; when he needed to focus on his task. He couldn't afford to be distracted.
Unfortunately, sheer determination did not make the guilt go away. It had settled so deeply into his stomach that he was beginning to wonder if it would ever go away.
Perhaps it wouldn't.
. . .
He had to admit; staying at Hawkeye's childhood home had been the right call. It was surprisingly easy to get back to Central HQ; which was good. He just about needed an easy break.
He leaned forwards, and addressed Hawkeye in the driver's seat.
"Do you think he'll make it in time?"
"He will," she answered confidently. "He left early."
"Remind me why we didn't drop him off?"
"It wouldn't make much sense for him to 'happen to be in the area' if someone saw me dropping him off. Would it?"
"But if you normally drive him, him walking doesn't make sense either."
She smiled.
"I don't drive him every day. He works a desk job, now. How else would he get his exercise in?"
Envy chuckled. "And people say I'm evil."
"I get away with it better. I'm a pretty woman; no one thinks of me as scary. But you'd know all about the ways that your appearance can affect your public perception."
It was hard to tell, because she tended to say everything in the same level tone of voice – but he was pretty sure she was telling a joke. He wasn't quite sure how to handle that, from her. He had honestly never picked her for the joking type.
"Speaking of," she said. "Forgive me if I'm being rude or intrusive. But I'm curious."
"About what?"
"You can pick any form that you choose, correct? Anybody in the entire world?"
"As long as I know what I'm going for, yeah. I need to be able to visualise it in my head. That can lead to problems when I'm trying to imitate a specific person – no matter how hard I try, there's always cracks. Tiny little things that I've forgotten to watch out for. But as far as I know, that's the only restriction."
Tiny details like a mole on a cheek.
"So how did you choose the form you walk around in every day?"
He looked down at himself; stunned.
"Congratulations. I can confidently say that no one has ever asked me that."
"Really?" She sounded surprised. He shrugged.
"No one's ever thought about it, I guess. Short answer; I didn't choose it. This is my 'real' body. I was actually quite impressed – the Elrics managed to figure that one out on their own."
She hesitated; as if unsure whether she should ask the next question that had come to her mind.
"I'm really not as delicate as you seem to think I am," he said. "I have issues with my temper; but not typically in regards to my powers. They're one of the few things I am a hundred percent secure in."
"Because it can't be taken away from you – right? I doubt you've ever met another shapeshifter. As long as you're the only one who can fill that role, there's nothing to worry about."
"How the hell did you figure that out?"
"Your name. I'm assuming it was chosen for a reason."
He sat in silence for a moment.
"Huh. You are way smarter than I gave you credit for. I see why the Colonel chose you over all those other idiots, as his right-hand Lieutenant."
"They're not idiots."
"They almost got Alphonse and I killed because one of them decided to go on a date," he deadpanned.
She snickered; he caught it despite her best attempts to cover it up.
"Let me guess. Lieutenant Havoc."
"Oh wow, so this is a recurring problem. He is an idiot."
"He… struggles in the dating world. Sometimes it drives him to desperation."
He leaned forwards, watching her expression in the rear-view mirror.
"You know, you still haven't asked. It can't be that bad."
She hesitated again; this time, he saw the conflict in her eyes.
"Is it true that homunculi are created in an attempt to bring back the dead?"
"Sure is. We're not the original person, though – so don't get your hopes up. There might be… echoes of who we used to be. Like pieces of a broken mirror. But the homunculus is always a distinctly different person from the human they were meant to replace."
He rested back against the seat, putting his hands behind his head. "Unfortunately, bringing back the dead really isn't that simple."
"Echoes? Does that mean you remember being human?"
"I do," he said. "Like it was my own life. Of course, not every homunculus is that lucky. Some can only remember bits and pieces; some can't remember anything. I'm not sure what influences it."
"What did you look like? Before."
He paused. Now, she was starting to get into uncomfortable territory.
"I was blonde," he said, and left it at that.
"Huh. I can't imagine you with blonde hair."
"Yeah; sometimes I struggle to picture it, too."
They pulled into a carpark, and Envy realised that they had arrived.
Well, it was time to go hard or go home. And he'd never been one to give up on a challenge.
"I'm gonna go get ready. It'll probably look weird if Norov gets out of your car."
He shifted without even really thinking about it, and stepped out of the car. It wasn't until a few minutes later, passing by a store window, that he realised whose form he had subconsciously chosen.
Maria Ross. He supposed it had just been the first one that had come to mind; but it still made him uncomfortable.
He stopped, and his eyes lit upon the mole on his cheek. Hadn't gotten it on the wrong side this time; that was for sure.
He left, looking for a secluded area where he could shift again without drawing suspicion. He found it quickly enough; a public bathroom. Women's, but oh well – he was about to get Norov sent to jail anyway. He supposed public indecency couldn't hurt.
Once he had changed to Norov's form, he stepped up to the mirror to check that he had it right.
The eyes were off; damnit. There was always something. He fixed it, gave himself one more once-over, then left the bathroom and went looking for Roy's team.
It took him a few minutes to find them; by which time, he had begun to slightly panic. He would never admit it to anyone – he would die first – but the idea had crossed his mind that this entire set-up had been a trap.
So when he finally spotted Havoc and… the small, mousey one – Fuery, he thought his name was – his chest heaved in relief. He re-composed himself almost as soon as he realised it, not wanting his body language to out him. Then he stood up straight, in his best impression of a sociopathic soldier, and strutted towards them.
"You! Lieutenants Havoc and Fuery!"
They snapped to attention as he approached. He couldn't tell if they had been informed of the plan or not; but he supposed that didn't really matter.
"I have a new assignment I need you to take care of."
Fuery's eyebrows knit together. "But Sir… We work for Colonel Mustang's unit. Surely you have your own men you can put to the task."
"My men are all tied up; I'm not quite as relaxed on my subordinates as I hear Colonel Mustang has a tendency to be with his."
He accompanied this with an eye roll.
"And that's besides the point, Lieutenant. You're both under Colonel Mustang's command – and Colonel Mustang is under my command. That means you work for me, just as much as him. Am I correct?"
"He is," Havoc whispered, with a grimace. "Unfortunately."
"Uh, yes sir! What can we do for you?"
Crap. Envy hadn't actually thought that far ahead. He had been too shaken by his dream the night before.
"The Fuhrer has personally tasked me with eliminating a threat to the nation – I'll need your assistance in making it happen."
"And what is this threat, Sir?"
Here, Envy allowed himself a smile. He raised his voice to a level that others around would be able to hear.
"There's a group of children, between the ages of ten and fifteen, who the Fuhrer believes have become involved with a terrorist organisation."
"Let me get that straight – you want us to arrest children?"
Based on Havoc's obnoxiously loud response, he and Fuery had been let in on the plan; which made things easier for Envy.
"No, and no. The Fuhrer wants them executed for treason; as well as their parents. These orders come directly from him. As trying as they are, we have no choice but to obey."
"Trying?" Havoc spluttered, in a pantomime of rage. "He's asking us to murder children! We can't do that!"
Envy glanced around, out of the corner of his eye, and was pleasantly surprised. Several people had turned to watch the unfolding spectacle.
"Come now, soldier. You did much worse in Ishbal. Do you really think killing a few more children will make it any harder to sleep at night?"
With that, he turned and walked away. As he passed the crowds, he heard a few people start muttering under their breath.
"Did he just say… No, he couldn't have. I misheard."
"Was that was Ishbal was really about? But I had no idea!"
"This can't be right!"
He hoped it would be enough; but he honestly had no idea. These people sounded concerned, but not angry – and concerned wasn't enough to start a rebellion on its own. Concern could be rationalised away in the dark hours of the morning, when one was safe and warm in their beds.
The only way to get anyone off their asses was by making them completely and utterly furious.
Perhaps he had been too cartoonishly evil; like the moustache twirling villain in a novel. He had struggled to come up with a valid reason for the Fuhrer to want a bunch of children dead, after all; he knew that was kind of the point, but it still had to sound like something Pride could have reasonably said. Maybe he had taken it a little too far.
Behind him, he heard Havoc keep yelling; something about how he was done committing crimes for the Fuhrer, and it was about time they told the public what was really going on. Envy didn't know anything about that; it had never come up.
He shapeshifted back to his regular form after turning the corner to an empty street. As far as anyone knew, he hadn't been anywhere near the scene. He couldn't have planned it any better.
He found Roy on his way back; the man had seemingly been on his way to meet him.
"Did you do it?" Roy asked.
"Yeah; but I don't think it had the effect we were looking for."
Roy stretched his arms above his head.
"I expected as much, unfortunately. Which is exactly why I have a few more surprises planned."
"What kind of surprises?"
"You'll see, in good time. Just a few reminders that this isn't the only time the military hasn't had the public's best interests in mind."
Envy scoffed. Roy cast an annoyed glance in his direction.
"What?"
"You're awfully casual about all of this. You do realise that you might be ruining your reputation within the military – forever?"
Roy stared off into the distance. His expression had softened, and become almost reminiscent.
"Yes, I realise that. But some things are more important than one man's goals."
As they walked away, Envy struggled not to stare at the Colonel. He was trying to decipher something – something he couldn't quite place – behind that man's dark eyes.
. . .
That night, Envy held true to his word. He had convinced Al to transmute another bed together, and was sleeping in his room.
Well, 'sleeping' might be a bad way of putting it. Instead, he was laying there listening to Al's breathing.
He didn't need to ask the boy whether he was awake. He knew the difference by now; knew that when asleep, Al's breaths were a lot slower than they currently were. He opened his mouth to speak several times. Each time, he backed out at the last moment.
The guilt tugged at him harder than a lion pulling at his leg. If he didn't say something soon, he felt it would consume him entirely. Was this how humans felt all the time? This had to be the reason they didn't do the terrible things Envy had done – who would willingly put themselves through this?
"I'm sorry."
He didn't know why he had spoken. He didn't know what he hoped to gain from it. He heard Al rustle next to him, then yawn.
"For what?"
Envy's gut instinct had been right; Al's voice was far too alert for him to have just woken up. He already regretted opening his mouth, but it was too late to force the words back in.
"Don't worry about it," he said, rolling over onto his side.
Silence fell, for a moment. Then there was more rustling, and a weight fell on the end of his bed.
"Nope. We're not doing this."
"What?"
"Last time a brother of mine started an important night-time conversation, and ended it with 'never mind', it almost destroyed us. I won't let that happen again."
Envy laughed bitterly, sitting up to face Al in the dark – and noticing for the first time that he looked genuinely concerned.
He hated it. But not for the same reason he would have once, a long time ago. He dreaded Al's pity because he knew he didn't deserve it.
"I'm sure whatever Edward was talking about, it was nowhere near as bad as this. You say it almost destroyed you? This would destroy us."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I'm not Edward. I'm not this perfect, sanitised little hero who always does the right thing. I can't even pretend that I've always tried to do the right thing. I'm not some innocent little lamb who made a mistake. I hurt people; wilfully and happily, because I liked seeing them in pain."
"And I've forgiven you for it," Al said, without missing a beat. "I think it's pretty obvious you're not that person anymore. People change."
"You can't possibly know that."
Because the truth was, even he didn't know that. He had reached a place in his life where he had no idea who he was, or what he was capable of. And it scared him far, far more than he was willing to admit.
Al reached out to brush a hand against his arm. He recoiled; fearful that he could spread his disease to him, taint that perfect, pure personality. Al either didn't notice or didn't care.
"Talk to me."
And in that moment, Envy understood. He understood why Edward had gone to such far lengths for his precious baby brother; why he had suffered pain, and loss, and uncertainty, for five goddamn years.
Because how could he ever say no to that face?
He felt something sting at the back of his eyes, gritted his teeth, and forced it back. He stared down at the bed, wishing he wasn't here in this moment.
Wishing he had kept his goddamn mouth shut. Because he was about to ruin it all. The incredibly delicate peace and safety that he had carefully cultivated for weeks, the relationships he had managed to grow here. And despite trying to prepare for it the whole time, despite knowing this moment had been on the horizon – he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready at all.
He was so, so tired of fighting. Of running, and killing, and starting all over. He just wanted it to stop.
But it couldn't; and hadn't he known that all along?
"I killed Hughes," he said, and waited for his world to end.
