Chapter seven
Ed looked around the room. "So you've seriously been spying on me and the General for the last two months? You know that's just creepy, right?"
"When you say it like that, then yes." Greg scratched his head, looking awkward. "But what we've really been doing is seeing whether it would be a good idea or not to merge our two teams or if it would put you in greater danger. It seems the latter is more realistic judging by the current events."
"And by current events you mean my autopsy?" Ed sighed.
"Bang on!" Walter said cheerfully.
"Walter, you know what I've said about reading a room?" Angela whispered.
"Oh. My condolences."
"Thanks," Ed said, slightly unsure.
"You're welcome."
Everyone else sighed.
"General, if I may have a word?" the pathologist said. Alphonse straightened up the moment the door was opened. "Is it him?!" Roy held Al by the shoulders in order to stop him from rising to his feet. "Is it Brother?!"
"I'm sorry, but the deceased has been confirmed to be Major Elric. Now, General Mustang, I would like a word in private."
Roy squeezed Al's shoulders as he stood up. "I'll be back quickly, okay?"
Al was shaking with grief, tears running down his face. Roy really couldn't leave him in this state. Hearing that there now was no doubt that it was in fact Ed, was an even bigger blow than he would have thought it would be at first. He would like some time to collect himself too. Al was just clinging to his waist, sobbing. Roy put a hand on his head and tried desperately to fight his own tears as well.
Hawkeye gently put her hands on Al's shoulders and eased him over to lean on her instead so that Roy could speak to the pathologist. The whole team were there, looking stricken, but definitely ready to take care of the youngest Elric.
"If you would follow me to my office, General?" The pathologist asked him and Roy nodded, his chest feeling tight at leaving Al behind like that.
They sat down in a clean, white office with white furniture, white folders and white shelves, making the room seem oddly cold and sterile. "I thought it would be a better idea not to discuss this in front of Mister Elric and your colleagues. As I am aware, you have been wondering if the Major had his eyes and teeth removed prior to his death?"
"Yes." Roy felt his mouth go dry at the thought.
"I see, well, it's not easy for me to tell you this, but he clearly did."
Roy felt sick. They had tortured his kid.
They had gouged out the eyes of a sixteen-year-old boy. His boy. While he was still alive.
Roy didn't care, he would find a way to burn these bastards.
He just needed to do so without endangering his team and Alphonse.
And Ed had suffered because of Roy. He should have protected him. Done something. Anything.
Because then he wouldn't be standing here hearing about how the last thing his boy had known was pain, fear and blindness as some bastard pulled out his teeth.
"General, judging by what these people were willing to do to a mere child, I would advice you to be careful. I'd rather not have to examine any more bodies like that."
"Yes, of course."
Roy shook hands with the man, walked out of the office and found his way to the toilet. There he emptied his meagre stomach contents.
Tears from his anguish mixed with those caused by the retching and streamed down his cheeks. He suddenly saw Ed, tied to a table, screaming as somebody pulled out his teeth, his eyes already those empty, bloody sockets.
Roy retched again. He hadn't allowed himself to even imagine it before now.
WHY THE HELL DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM!
Roy stood there, leaning over the toilet, clinging to it. He didn't want to tell the rest. He would never tell Alphonse. Al didn't deserve to be burdened by the knowledge.
Hawkeye would probably ask him. He would tell her, because she had also seen the head. The rest of the team didn't know. Nor would they ever do so. It wouldn't help them one bit.
God, how Roy just wanted to hold him. To hold his boy as he was still alive, still breathing in his arms. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be a family now. Roy and Ed and Al. It was supposed to be an easy mission, little more than a trip, really. It would have been hell seeing Ishbal again, but Roy would get through that with Ed by his side.
And this is what Roy got for it.
It just wasn't fair. He had only got back his sight so that he could restore Ishbal. If he couldn't do that, then he didn't deserve it. He had failed Ed and he had failed Al. He had failed the Ishbalan survivors.
And god, did it hurt.
Doctor Jonathan Wells put some disinfectant on his hands from the dispenser on his desk. It hadn't been fun delivering those news to General Mustang earlier today, of course it hadn't. The man was obviously horrified by the news, but Johnathan figured that it was safer to tell him what he had been ordered to do, rather than what had actually happened.
He had been surprised when he had once again been called into that wretched room inside that cave. He hated what he was being forced to do. Major General Freeman had told him to give the kid the "full treatment" and then just left him and Fredricks to finish the job. The higher-ups couldn't just disappear for too long after all. No, they couldn't draw any suspicion to themselves, which meant that the muscled brutes were brought out for the attacks and transporting the victims, then they left. It was usually just Johnathan and Fredricks that were left to deal with the mess. A few days ago had been special. Freeman had never once before actually talked to the victims himself. Apparently the sadistic bastard wanted the kid to know just how personal this was to the man. Johnathan had talked to Major Elric for at least fifteen minutes and spilled all of his plans to him. Told him every dirty little secret he had. What was worse was that he had then told the kid just what would happen to him. How the "full treatment" works. Then he had gone off with his chaperones, laughing madly, leaving Johnathan to do the dirty work and Fredricks to deal with the clean up afterwards.
Major Elric was just sixteen, and as he lay there, bound, the feeling in his limbs returning, he had stared up at Johnathan with a mixture of anger and fright.
"Don't you touch me, you sick bastard! I'll find a way to get every single one of you self-righteous scumbags arrested," the boy sneered up at him. "You just told me every little secret you have, so believe you me, I will get out of here. And you know why? Because I have a little brother waiting for me, so I'll be damned if I let you torture me to death! I'm Edward Elric and I'm not leaving my brother behind!"
Johnathan saw the conviction in those eyes. The boy was already working on freeing his wrists.
Johnathan's own son was the same age.
He was trapped. He couldn't do this. Edward Elric was nothing more than a child. He wasn't going to tie him up and begin removing his eyes and teeth and then begin carefully removing the organs one by one as the kid screamed his lungs out until his body shut down.
Johnathan may have done that during the war, but that was before he became a father. And he had never done that willingly back then either.
It wasn't his fault that he was a good surgeon and pathologist. He may enjoy dissecting people to some extent, but vivisection? He had never agreed to that! They were supposed to be dead first!
But then they're going to slit your family's throats.
But dammit! My hands are already stained, I can't add a child to that list!
"You don't wanna do this, do you?" the boy asked curiously. "You're not like them. You actually have a heart. So what do they have on you? You look like they're threatening you with your family, I know how that goes." The boy chuckled darkly. "Which I guess means that you have to do this after all."
"My son is your age. My daughter is two years older. I swear, Major Elric, I don't want to do this. I'm sorry."
Johnathan had moved towards the kid, but suddenly Fredricks stopped him, taking his wrist. "Fake it," he whispered-
"What do you mean?"
"Fake his death. You're good enough of a biological alchemist to make a fake head out of his hair and some extra limbs from the last victim. Do it, I'll make sure to get the kid out of here. Just do it and never say it to anybody."
"Why would you help me?"
Fredricks glared at him with a frightened determination in his eyes. "Because you don't kill kids. Just give him one of the syringes that deletes memories so that he can't go blabbing."
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO WHISPERING ABOUT?! IF YOU'RE GONNA KILL ME, AT LEAST SHOW SOME MANNERS!" the kid shouted, a vein throbbing at his temple.
Fredricks nodded at Johnathan and he grabbed two of the syringes on his work desk. He bent down and stuck the needles into his neck one by one, making the kid swear at an alarming rate, although he blacked out soon though.
Then Johnathan set to work.
He sat at his desk, thinking about what he had done. He had doomed Major Elric's family and friends to believe he was dead. But at least he hadn't killed him.
The office door was opened. One of the receptionists walked in, looking at him anxiously. "Oh, hi, Annie, is something wrong?" She closed the door behind her.
"Hi, Doctor Wells. I just wondered if we could have a cup of coffee? I need to talk. My boyfriend is – well, we're not good right now."
Jonathan smiled encouragingly at her as he spotted the two cups in her hands. Johnathan always took good care of his staff and was there to talk whenever they needed to. "Of course, have a seat."
Annie smiled at him and gave him a cup. "Thank you, Doctor Wells. It's not easy, he's always screaming and yelling. I'm afraid he's going to leave me."
Johnathan took a large sip of his cup, which made Annie smile.
Johnathan didn't feel good as he opened his mouth to share of his wisdom. He was suddenly having difficulty breathing. His chest was aching. "What?" he said weakly.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Wells, but you're one of our weaker links."
Everything turned dark as he fell out of his chair.