Thank you all so much for reviewing! The site's email system is still a wacky mess on my end; I got a good thirty percent of the notifications for this fic, I think, but I'm making sure to read everything you guys are leaving for me! On that note, however, I'd try not relying solely on an email for when this fic updates for now, just because the system is such a disaster. I missed an update email just last night.
Anyways- hope you all enjoy this one! This chapter isn't one of my favorites, to be honest; I tried to put all this plot stuff in one update though so I could charge on ahead to the scenes with parental feelings, which is what we're all here for, after all! I promise, parentalness'll arrive in chapter 3! :)
It was a curious thing, to be so numb and surprised he didn't have anything to say. It did still feel miles better than the alternative he'd had lately, so drugged he didn't remember how to speak or what words even were, but the outcome was the same- before he could fully wrap his mind around a damn thing, he was being spoken to again, so quickly it was all he could do to just keep up.
"-so you gotta be careful," Ed was lecturing, voice hushed under his breath still like it was a dark secret. It probably was. "You have to still act sedated, you know? Otherwise they'll catch on pretty quick. But," he shrugged, "it's nothing. Just stay quiet and avoid the nurses, you'll be fine."
Roy blinked again, relatively sure that nothing at all about this situation was fine... but once again, before he could so much as comment, Ed was at it again.
"It's the third pill in the morning that you have to skip. Little white square. And the second one at night; that's a green, like, oval-shape... although that one's more of a sleeping pill, not a sedative, and there's not much to do at night besides sleep, but I like doing it under my own power, you know?" Ed waved his hand again, approximating at a gesture, features still stretched into a wry grin.
Roy stared blankly.
At last, he managed, so eloquently:
"You're very noisy."
Ed snorted at him, flopping back languorously over the couch like he owned the thing. "Sorry," he lipped, not sounding very sorry at all. "Haven't had any company in... I don't know. Five weeks? Six weeks?" He shrugged helplessly. "Ever since I woke up here, anyway. So it's just nice to finally have someone to talk to."
Then, once again, without giving him much of a chance to question to press him on anything, the kid continued, voice only barely hushed enough to not attract attention from any wandering, snooping nurses. "Anyway, you have to be smart about it. Only hide the sedative; if you try and hide them all it's too obvious. I, um... kinda figured that out the hard way." He shifted, gaze suddenly leaving his to search about the cold room for eavesdroppers, shoulders rising with the slightest hint of tension and smile falling. "And you can't be an idiot about hiding them, either," he continued, though still not looking at him. "I normally shove them under here." He tapped the couch cushion with his knee, but it was a tired, distracted sort of thing, all of his concentration averted as his gaze continued to drift suspiciously around the room, searching, half-alarmed, as if he was just waiting for someone to pop out at him in any given moment.
It was highly unsettling, to say the least. The back of Roy's neck started to itch as if he was being watched.
Nonplussed, Roy just stared at him, completely and utterly thrown. He wondered if the effects of the sedative hadn't worn entirely off yet, or if this really just didn't make any sense whatsoever. "I- um... okay," he managed at last, blinking. "So... is there actually, I don't know, a reason I should be listening to you? Or..."
Ed stiffened, blinking at him in a jolt of surprised confusion. He looked so taken aback Roy might as well have just sprouted wings and flown- and considering the circumstances, he supposed that might've even been what the kid was seeing. "I- what?" he stuttered, gaping. "You liked wandering around all drugged up?" He pointed angrily at him, jabbing one finger on his one hand so hard Roy wondered if he'd wind up with a bruise. "You know, Roy, yesterday, you were a mess. You were staring at me for ten minutes before you even realized I was talking to you. If not for me you'd probably be facedown on the floor somewhere right now."
He winced, both at the fuzzy memory and the accurate prediction, raising a hand in a miserable attempt to rub away his aching head and the confusion. "That's not what I meant. Of course I feel better now, but- well, they're giving us those pills for a reason, kid. I'm pretty sure if we ever want to get out of here, then not taking them-"
"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Ed prodded him again, hard, and looked almost like he wanted to slap some sense into him; as drained as Roy felt, he was glad when the aggravation only manifested itself in another violent poke. "I told you yesterday. You're not crazy. Neither of us are. Look, you've been off that shit for a couple hours now, and you're still fine. The only thing that was keeping you crazy was the pills they kept shoving down your throat- you're off them now, and you're fine-"
Roy frowned, listening as the kid tried to press his point and didn't really succeed. Sure, he did feel miles better now- but it had only been what, three hours? Who was to say he wouldn't snap later tonight, and...
Well, he didn't know, really, what would happen then, given that he still couldn't remember a damn thing, but he imagined it wouldn't be pretty.
"Listen," he interrupted at last, waving a hand to try and stop the increasingly insistent ramblings. "Are you actually thinking about you're saying? Why would the hospital be the one making us sick? That's insane! You're crazy-..." He trailed off with a weak grin when he'd realized what he said, but Ed was decidedly unimpressed.
"Yeah. And you're a dick." Ed glanced around the room again, keeping a close eye out for any nearby nurses or others who could screw up this little clandestine conversation not under the influence. "Come on, use your head. You don't remember anything at all, right? Anything before you woke up here?"
"I'm just saying- ...how... how did you know that?"
"Because I don't, either." Ed glared fiercely again, bright eyes leaving his own to search around the room for some other target for his anger, one hand clenching in his lap. "And I know it's because of something they're doing to me. ...Before... before, when I had to figure out which one of those damn pills was the sedative... I just had to go with trial and error. Skipping random pills until I found the right one." He hesitated, gaze leaving him again as he curled a little over on himself, chewing on his bottom lip. "One of them is some sort of memory block. When I quit taking it, I... well, I don't really know what I remembered, but I remembered something, Roy. That wouldn't have happened if that was just medicine because we were sick."
Roy hesitated, watching the strange teen with a sense of unease that he couldn't really place. He hadn't given his missing memory much thought, truly- just for as long as he could remember, he'd been here, and that was that. Quite obviously there was an enormous block missing. He was a grown man yet only had memories for the past... what, two weeks? Obviously something was wrong.
But the nurses had never seemed concerned and, well, quite honestly, he'd just been too damn drugged until now to worry.
"One of those drugs they give me... is a memory block?" He touched his head wonderingly, mind suddenly spinning. Hmm...
Suddenly, though, Ed's finger was waggling in his face, and those fierce eyes were on his again. "Nope. Nu uh. I ain't telling you, Roy." He sat back with an intense glower, something subtly dangerous in that stare. "It's dangerous."
"What are you talking about, dangerous?" He barely forced his voice to remain quiet, suddenly desperately eager, ravenous for memories that he didn't have. "How can it be dangerous? Ed, I'd just-"
"I'm not telling you which one it is. So don't ask." Ed hesitated again, breaking his gaze for the first time, the steady confidence he'd laid claim to this whole conversation devolving into something less self-assured... more... almost nervous. His shoulders slumped, teeth sinking deep into his lower lip. "It's just- it's not that simple, okay? It wasn't like I skipped the pill and suddenly could remember everything. It wasn't... I'm just not telling you."
It was a lame ending if he'd ever heard one, and Roy glowered darkly, the dodge poking at his irritation and stroking it wide awake. "But-"
"Nope," the kid stressed irritably, mouth set, and sat back with a stubborn huff as if that was the end of it. "All right. Listen, it's great you came along, now I have a partner to help me out. We've got to get out of here, Roy. And you're going to help me." He waved his one hand like it was obvious, already lunging into his lecture out of nowhere, like it was just the next logical place for this conversation to go. "I've been thinking a little, and our best bet is if we trick one of the nurses into-"
"Woah. Woah, woah. Wait, stop, wait a minute." Roy sent another cautious glance around as he lowered his voice and waved for him to stop, wide-eyed. "Wait a minute- when did I agree to this?! I- just wait, damn it..." He scrubbed a hand over his face in disbelief, wondering how on earth his life had gotten stuck on this tailspin. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't... Ed, I don't know what you're thinking, exactly, but I'm not about to break out of a hospital just because you think- what? The doctors are evil masterminds who kidnapped us for the evil plan of- of kidnapping us?" He smirked, rolling his eyes. "It may not be the greatest place in the world to be, but that hardly means anything, Ed. Somehow, I don't think we're here for a nice tropical vacation."
Ed, predictably, was not very impressed with his response.
His eyes bored into him with an angry sort of fire, fist clenched and shoulders hunched. He glared angrily, tense with distress now that he'd discovered his new, fellow patient was not about to join his plot to break out of the hospital. Several moments ticked by in silence, passed through just with little Ed just glaring at him in a stubborn, silent challenge, as if trying to force him to change his mind through force of will alone. When it became clear that wasn't going to work, Ed just threw his arm over the couch, stretching himself out in a show of getting comfortable, mouth slipping into a sour grimace of his own. "You know what? Fine. Fine. Don't listen to me. 'S not like you've got anyone else to listen to- but fine. Ignore me. But- just don't say I never warned you."
God, he had not had near enough sleep for this. "Warned me about what, for god's sake?"
Ed smirked again, looking vaguely smug about something, but just what that could be, Roy had no idea. "What do you think goes on here, exactly, Roy? That it's all group therapy and- and crayons?" He reached for a nearby table, lifting up what was, in fact, a couple of crayons, and wriggled them in his face. "No. The shit they do here sucks, Roy. They call it treatments, medicine, whatever, but it's not. It's dangerous and miserable and you'll fucking hate it. They're not helping you. But I guess I'll just let you figure that out for yourself." He glared again, poking at his cheek with one of the crayons with an amazingly irritating smirk. "If they do the same with you that they did me, they'll give you a couple days to wonder around, enjoy yourself, before you get to enjoy their treatments. So, hey, what do I care?" He shrugged again, beaming smugly now. "You'll see. You'll see for yourself, soon enough."
Roy glared darkly, becoming only more and more convinced the longer this conversation went on he was not going to like his fellow patient. Ed was still stubbornly glaring, meanwhile, radiating annoyance, and, with a sigh, he plucked the red crayon out from the air, away from his face. "And why," he snapped, waggling it back at him, "pray tell, do we have these?"
Ed scowled at it, tossing the rest back onto the table. "Apparently, no pencils or pens allowed. I asked- I could make some shitty sort of knife out of them. No sharp objects."
Well- all right, Roy could agree with his aggravation on that one. What did the doctors think he'd do if given a pencil- stab one of them with it, or slice his own wrists? Damn. Surely he was not that crazy. But given that he remembered... well, nothing... including whatever obviously horrible thing he'd done, to end up here in the first place... who was he to say? Hell, given that he'd ended up on a locked mental ward, Roy guessed he actually might not be that far off the mark. "Okay," he muttered reluctantly, glancing down at the flaky, half smushed child's crayon in his hand. "So, that's what we've got to do for fun around here? Draw with crayons?"
"Hey, you were the one whining about this not being a vacation. Like you said, we're in a crazy hospital. The purpose isn't to have fun." He kicked his leg up with another smirk, and Roy decided he made a very, very strange picture- one leg and arm, hospital clothes, as casual as could be. His long, messy hair half obscured his face, his fierce eyes, and for a moment, Roy actually could've been fooled into thinking he was on a vacation after all.
"What are you-"
"Hey, hush. Shhhh shh. Shh."
Ed's voice was suddenly urgent, a low whisper under his breath that lacked all previous levity and rang with worry. Roy obediently shut his mouth, alerted far more by the tone of voice than what he'd said- and sure enough, only a moment later, found the reason Ed had suddenly started to shush him.
One of the nurses, all bright smiles and cheerful eyes, was walking towards them.
She reached them with another smile, and Roy cast a surreptitious look towards Ed to see his eyes had suddenly dulled, shoulders slumped downwards, mouth tilted into a sleepy frown in a dead on impersonation of a sedated haze. It looked to be something he'd had a lot of practice pulling off, and Roy found himself wondering just how long Ed had been here for.
And how long was he going to be here for?
"Good morning, Edward!" the woman chirped, in such a manner that Roy instantly disliked her. She gave him a too bright smile as well and he winced a little, trying to return a sleepy one of his own even as she refocused her attention on the kid next to him, still almost infectiously cheerful. "How are we doing today?"
Ed shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. Based off his- rather limited- experience with the boy, Roy imagined it was a mix of expletives and insults. The nurse, ignorant to his whining, gave them both another smile, then held out a hand to Ed. "Come along, now. It's time for treatment."
Roy wasn't sure... Ed was still doing a bang up job at impersonating a dazed, sleepy shell. But he thought he saw his shoulders tense, just a fraction, and for just a heartbeat, his eyes darkened in silent resistance and fear.
And then, it was gone.
"Okay," the kid mumbled dully, stumbling upright to his feet- well, foot. He hopped unsteadily over to the nearby wheelchair and dropped into it gracelessly, hair shielding his face again and arm drawn around himself protectively, jawline tight with annoyance as the nurse started to wheel him away.
Roy watched him disappear around the corner, hands tense with suspicious uncertainty, eyes narrowed to watch through the fringe of his hair, and continued watching, long after he was gone.
There was something very, very odd, about that kid.
There wasn't a clock nearby, or any other sort of way for him to figure out how long he'd been sitting there for, but he figured it couldn't have been very long until another nurse came over to him, bearing lunch, like her colleague, an almost sickeningly cheerful smile. He decided it should be illegal, to smile so happily. "Good afternoon, Roy-" oh, she's just as annoying as the first one, bloody wonderful- and handed him the tray. "I saw you talking to Edward, earlier," she went on, smiling still, "did you make a new friend?"
Good lord, what was he, five? "Uh... yeah," he grunted, only not glaring at her through a Herculean effort he figured should've warranted him a prize. He accepted the food, and after one glance, deemed the only reason he'd found it tolerable before was the sedatives had been numbing his taste buds.
"Oh, I'm glad!" she exclaimed brightly, clapping her hands together again like he was a small child and done something worthy of praise. "It's good for the both of you. You'll both be here for a while, and Edward, well, he's been all by himself until now- so lonely... I'm glad he'll have some company now." She started to back away a little, giving him a small wave.
Not that he wasn't eager to get back to- well, staring dully around the room- but, suddenly struck by inspiration, Roy spoke up before she could leave, being careful to follow Ed's earlier advice and not appear too perked up. "Ma'am?" he called, swaying a little in his seat. "Ah, I was just wondering... what's Ed here for, anyway? He didn't seem sick at all."
The nurse hesitated, looking a little reluctant to tell him, but when a surreptitious glance around the room revealed they were alone, she passed it on- even though her voice was now hushed. "Oh, Ed? He suffers from paranoid delusions." She shook her head sadly, features falling into a sympathetic frown. "The poor boy..."
Paranoid delusions...?
Well, he thought, if that's the case, certainly explains why he thinks the hospital is out to get him.
"Why?" the nurse asked after several moments, that sympathetic frown hardening into a more suspicious one as she suddenly stepped closer to him again, eyes narrowed- and Roy jolted, realizing he'd held silent for just a moment or two too long. "Did Ed say something to you? We might have to adjust his medication again, if the delusions are getting worse-"
"Oh- oh, no!" he rushed to say, shaking his head with an instant disarming smile. "Oh, I- no, not at all! I... was just wondering, is all."
He wasn't really sure why he lied. He was pretty sure seriously scheming to break out of the hospital ward because he believed they'd been kidnapped counted as a paranoid delusion, and one his doctors probably should know about, before Ed really did try and fashion a shiv out of a crayon and stab them. Besides, what harm could come of just telling the hospital staff what he'd said?
But...
Another uncertain glance downwards, staring at the unidentifiable lumps that dared masquerade as food on his plate, and Roy frowned.
What Ed had done for him, getting him off that shit sedative, was the only gesture of kindness he could ever remember receiving. And, evidently, Ed had been right about him not needing it, considering he'd been off it for several hours now, at least, and had yet to go off into a mental breakdown. He had that strange, fierce kid to thank for the fact that he finally felt somewhat like a normal, functioning human being again.
Somehow, he felt the least he could do was return the favor, and keep his mouth shut about what Ed was planning.
I'll just keep an eye on him... he decided, finally going for the plastic fork with a resigned sigh. Make sure he doesn't do anything too rash or reckless. Just to return the favor.
Just to return the favor, he repeated to himself firmly. That was all.
The new guy, Ed decided, was an ass.
A very stubborn, arrogant, ass.
Just who did he think he was? Ed went out of his way, completely out of his way to do him a favor, and get him off the janky meds that this place kept shoving down their throats. He'd gone and been nice, for no reason other than he'd just stumbled straight into him wondering around one day in a drugged out haze, and felt bad for the poor guy. Just went out of his way, helped him out, did the right thing, all that jazz. Then tried to do him yet another favor by warning him about the hospital and their intentions.
And then how did Roy repay him?
Wouldn't even believe him!
Roy, who'd been awake and sober for a grand total of four hours, thought he knew better than Ed- who had been here, by himself, figuring shit out, for weeks.
Stubborn, arrogant, ass.
Ed scowled, glaring down at the floor as he started to push himself out of his room, the skipped sedative pill hidden in the folds of his shirt. It was just his luck his only choices were staring around at the walls of his room, trying to strike up a conversation with the nurses- who all talked to him like he was five years old- or, Roy. A stubborn, arrogant ass he may have been, but Roy was at least better than his alternatives.
Which was why, the morning after he'd actually met his strange new fellow patient, actually talked to him rather than just stared at a drugged out mess, Ed found himself looking forward to the day for the first time in weeks as he wheeled himself out of his room- in search of company. Because, for the first time since he'd ever woken up here, he actually could.
Stubborn, arrogant ass or not, Ed was really, really tired of being alone.
Roy had beaten him out there- the benefits of not being wheelchair bound, he supposed. Still, Ed couldn't help but start a little in surprise when he turned the corner and there, right out there, plain as day, sat the dark-haired stranger from the day before. He didn't want to admit it, but after weeks here spent almost entirely alone... well, it was a relief to have company. Even if it was someone with Roy's talent for being annoying.
Part of him had worried he'd made the entire encounter up.
But, plainly, he had not, unless he really had lost his mind and was hallucinating, and he was not fucking crazy, so, with a bold grin, Ed pushed himself faster forward, nodding as soon as Roy glanced over to look at him. "Morning," he called quietly, and was rewarded with a quiet greeting of his own.
"So, you skip the sedative okay? Have any problems?" Ed asked, as soon as he was close enough to murmur and soon be heard.
Roy frowned. "Obviously not." He gently patted one of the couch cushions, the same one Ed had taken to hiding all of his pills under, spending the day crushing them into a fine powder.
"It was a legitimate question! You don't have to be a dick about it, hell..."
"I said two words. That is not being a dick." Roy paused for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "If I had wanted to be a dick, then I could have said-"
"Please, for the love of god, stop. Stop." Ed stared at him in disbelief, waving a hand like he was trying to stop a car from running him over. He waited until he was sure Roy actually wasn't about to list all the ways he could be an ass, then groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face with another force to make his eyes force. "Were you actually about to delineate how to be a dick to me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Roy smirked again, looking especially pleased with himself. "Well, given that I'm in a mental hospital, there's probably a lot wrong with me. It's hardly polite to point that out, though."
"What the hell, I told you yesterday there's nothing wrong with you. What, you fall and hit your head or something?" Ed reached forward to rap him on the head with his fist, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Or do you actually want to be crazy?"
"Well, I don't know... I figure there might be certain advantages to being crazy." He raised an eyebrow, mouth contorting into another smirk. "I mean, I get an indefinite vacation with crayons and pills. What more could a guy ask for?"
"Food that isn't shit?" Ed countered, and was rewarded with a resigned sigh, Roy's smirk slipping into a more genuine frown.
"..All right, you have something there. I'm not asking for a gourmet chef, but evidently just a bit of flavor is too much to hope for." He shrugged miserably. "I think I'd kill for some Xingese right now."
Ed paused, mouth already open for his next retort before the comment made him stop. He gave Roy a closer look, narrowing his eyes. He hadn't really given it any thought before, but... "You could be Xingese, actually. Are you?"
Roy scowled. "How the hell should I know? I could be from the moon for all I know, Ed."
Ed frowned back, wincing a little. He did have a point... then again, Roy was hardly going out of his way to not annoy him. Ed wasn't about to get all worked up over the same; it was pretty obvious the jerk didn't need kid gloves. "Well, sorry," he snarked back, rolling his eyes. "I'm just saying, you could be. Your eyes look like it. And your skin. You could be Xingese."
"...Really?" Hesitantly, Roy raised a hand to touch his own face, fingers trailing over the features, pulling at the skin under his eyes and rubbing his cheeks. He glanced around the room curiously, dark, foreign eyes suddenly bright with interest. "There a mirror somewhere around here?"
"They don't let us have pens, Roy. You think they'd let us anywhere near glass we could break?"
"But-" Roy stared at him, obviously disappointed, then sighed, letting his hand drop. "Oh. ...Wait- if there aren't any mirrors- you don't know what you look like, either, do you?"
"Oh. Um. ...No, guess not." He frowned as well, startled by the sudden question. Had he even thought about that before now? "I'd never- I don't know. Literally no clue." He touched a hand to his own face, frowning. What did he look like? "Why?"
Suddenly, Roy's gaze took on the same speculative quality Ed's must have held before, and the man was staring openly, so blatantly he was almost uncomfortable. In took him only several seconds of shifting uneasily to shake his head at Roy, glaring subtly in hopes of him getting the hint to knock it off. "Come on," he muttered, starting to rise. "This is too obvious. The nurses'll show up eventually wanting to know why you're staring into my eyes like a lovestruck puppy, you weirdo."
Roy started, then folded his arms with a decidedly petulant huff, plainly annoyed. "Oh, so it was acceptable when you were the only ogling me like a walking miniskirt, but I look at you for two seconds and I'm in love?" He frowned again, arms still crossed. "And I'm not weird."
"Whatever. Just follow me, would you." He heaved himself unsteadily up to his leg, allowing himself a brief moment of resignation to frown down at the wheelchair. God, he hated it. It was so fucking humiliating. It was one thing to be this strange, deformed, two-limbed cripple... but couldn't they even do him the decency of letting him have a crutch, move around under his own power?
No. They couldn't. He'd already asked- apparently, that, too, was simply dangerous, to trust a mental patient with. Couldn't risk him wailing it around like a bat, now, could they?
Ed scowled, glaring darkly around the whitewashed ward again.
He hated this place.
Roy followed him, making to get behind the wheelchair and start pushing him; Ed shoved at him with his one hand, glowering even more dangerously at him. "Screw off," he snapped. "I'm not an invalid."
Roy gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything to the contrary as he fell into step beside him, allowing Ed to lead the way. The older man was silent for several moments, something unsure in his gaze that Ed could not identify, then: "I'm guessing you don't remember what happened, do you. To your arm and leg."
It was quieter than before, and Ed hesitated, his pace slowing. He glanced down at the empty sleeve on his right side, swaying limply as he moved. No. He didn't. Even more disturbing than the fact he'd somehow landed himself in a mental ward, with absolutely no recollection as to how, was the fact that he was missing two limbs... and had no idea why. They'd been a little sore in the beginning, but nothing as bad as he would've expected if it was from his limbs being chopped off, and from what he'd been able to see of the wounds, they were long healed- so it wasn't anything the sick fucks running this place had done. They'd been missing for a while.
There was something seriously fucking wrong with the fact that he was missing half his limbs and, for the life of him, could not remember why.
"What part of don't remember anything except the last month don't you understand?" Ed finally grumbled, a tad more acidly than was really deserved, and wrenched open the door to his room. He gestured for Roy to shut it behind him, not looking at him as he hopped up to sit on the edge of his lumpy hospital bed, hoping to move past the subject. "Anyway," he grunted. "Well, I already figured you out, Xingese man. Return the favor."
Roy blinked a little, seeming startled, but when Ed just continued to stare expectantly at him, shrugged and gave in. "Well..." the older man murmured, tilting his head, eyes narrowing- then broke off uncertainly. He frowned, jaw tensing. "You... um."
"Oh." He glared. "Um. Thanks, Roy. That's nice. I'm from the land of Um. Thank you."
Roy scowled. "Sorry, I'm trying- but I just... I'm not sure. You look... somehow, I want to say eastern." He scratched his head unsurely. "But I don't know why. You're not Xingese."
"What the hell? What's more eastern than Xing?!"
"I don't know!" Roy sighed loudly, clearly frustrated, and folded his arms again, still frowning at him like a puzzling quagmire. "Something has to be. Or, maybe you're from the east, but not as far as Xing? East- ...Amestris?" He gave another frown, eyes narrowed as he continued to look over him. "Amestris? That's where we are, isn't it? I-... don't really know what that is, but... I know it somehow. That's where we live." He paused for a moment, still watching Ed speculatively. "Or- I do, at any rate."
Ed went silent himself, evaluating how best to respond to that one. The words rang true for him in so many ways; that mysterious feeling of knowing something was true even if he didn't know how that could possibly be so, of a fact of life on his tongue as certain as the sky being blue but he had no idea how he knew it, because he didn't even remember it. For fuck's sake, he didn't even know if the sky was blue. He'd never really seen it. Had no proof that the few barred windows there were in this place even actually led outside. But somehow, something in him knew that it was- just like he knew that Amestris was his home.
And it was intensely comforting to realize Roy was the exact same as him.
Because he wasn't crazy, damn it.
If Roy felt the same way, that was just more proof that he wasn't insane, and it was something these people were doing to them to make them this way.
"...I know," he replied at last, avoiding Roy's gaze as he pushed himself a little into a more comfortable sitting position. "I know, it sounds crazy, and I don't really get how to describe it right- but I feel the same way. We live in Amestris. I don't know what it is, but we're from there. That's our home." He hesitated a moment longer, about to press even further, ask if Roy remembered any of his family from his home, too- then quickly snapped his mouth shut. That would invite the question right back at him, Roy wanting to know about his family, and Ed just wasn't sure if he could trust him with at much yet. Sure, he trusted Roy more than anyone else here- but that didn't say much. He couldn't risk that much with him. Not yet.
Roy sighed heavily, turning away from him to pace around the room. "Well, that's... I want to say reassuring, but to be quite honest, I'm not sure if it is. This all feels very strange, I think..." He lifted a hand up, moving to scratch the back of his head- and Ed, his mouth already open to return another reply, suddenly found himself loosing an uncontrolled laugh of surprise.
"Nice tattoo," he snickered, raising an eyebrow.
Roy turned straight back around, blinking blearily at him. "Excuse me?"
"Your tattoo," Ed said again, pointing. "On your back."
"My-" Roy spun around again like a dog chasing its tail, craning his neck over his shoulder and reaching fruitlessly, confusion etched into every line of his face. "I have a tattoo? I- I had no idea..." He made another frustrated spin, then just came to a stop with a disappointed groan, face falling. "Mind telling me what it looks like? It's a little- unsettling, not even knowing something like that."
Ed just nodded, the words again speaking to a feeling all too familiar for him to like. He waved a hand, gesturing for Roy to turn back around, then carefully hopped along the side of the hospital bed to reach where the older man was now braced uncertainly against the wall.
Upon pulling up the back of his shirt, he couldn't help but let out a low whistle. "Damn," he murmured, staring at the expanse bared to him. Earlier, he'd only really caught a glimpse- but now he could see just how big the thing actually was, and didn't know whether to call Roy an idiot for doing such a thing to himself or be quietly impressed. "You a glutton for punishment or something? This thing is big, Roy- like, all over." He prodded lightly at the skin of his back, poking down at one pale hip then all the way up to his shoulder blades with another sharp grin. "Bet this hurt like a bitch to get..."
He could actually see Roy stiffen this time, the muscles rolling under the ink as he shifted uncomfortably again, glaring a little over his shoulder as if trying to see it for himself. "What is-" He huffed in irritation, straining his neck in vain. "What on earth is it of? I don't remember this at all!"
"Well, of course you don't. You didn't even remember you were Xingese, idiot..." he muttered as he focused on his back again, trying to find some way to describe it to him.
The problem was, he just didn't have the words for it.
It was huge and a dark, dark red, so dark it was almost black with tendrils stretching almost below his waistband and then stretching up to try and crawl around his neck, like it was trying to strangle him. It looked almost like a giant, fancy circle, stuffed full of symbolic emblems that he didn't recognize and ringed with a careful cursive in a language that wasn't Amestrian. The letters were, but the script was something else entirely, and Ed found himself drawn to, stretching up on his toes to try and get a better look and wishing almost to touch it.
"I don't know what it is..." he murmured, tilting his head. "It's all foreign, and strange..."
"Xingese?"
"No," Ed replied, shaking his head again. "These letters; they're not Xingese. It's Amestrian script, just not Amestrian words."
"Letters?" Again Roy craned his neck, looking back with narrowed eyes as if he just tilted enough he'd be able to see it. "What does it say?"
"I just told you, I don't know! It's not Amestrian, it's- something else," Ed growled, but the annoyance was distant and faded, his mind still completely enraptured by the strange array.
Wait... array?
Ed stopped for the moment, eye widening as he turned the word over in his mind again. Array. Array. That's what this was. It was an array. He knew it. Just like he knew his country was Amestris and he knew the sky was blue, this was an array- he knew it with every certainty, with every fiber of his soul. This wasn't a weird, fancy, strange, foreign circle. It was an array.
But... he didn't know what that meant.
Ed hesitated, sending another uncertain glance at Roy and unsure if he should share this with him. He still really didn't know whether or not he could trust him- but, then, the thing was on his back. Didn't he have a right to know?
"...I think it's an array," he said at last, lowering his eyes back down to continue the inspection. Once again, however, he saw Roy stiffen. "And I don't know what that means or how I know it, so don't bother asking. But that's what this is called. It's an array."
It was all so strange... so intoxicatingly- familiar, somehow. He knew what this was, had seen it before, knew what it all meant- he was so sure of it! This was something he knew! He knew it!
But he just didn't remember how.
In front of him, Roy slowly stiffened again, the tattoo rippling as his skin moved.
"I... understand, actually," he said quietly. "What you mean... I know that word. Array. I'm not sure how, but- I know it."
Ed hesitantly met his eyes again, a moment of weighty silence expanding in the small space as he realized that, once again, Roy understood exactly what he was trying to say. It was strange, Ed himself knew he had to sound crazy to anybody else- but Roy understood it, somehow.
He nodded slowly, feeling the relief grow in his chest again, then just coughed and directed his gaze back to the tattoo.
"Et clavem et primum sumus," he read aloud, again stretching up to follow the words as they curved around Roy's back, "Alibi et clauditem et secundum sunt..."
"We are both the key and the first," Roy filled in calmly, as if it was just second nature to him.
"-and elsewhere, are both the lock and the second!" Ed finished, jerking backwards to stare up at Roy in shock. "How did you know that?!"
"How did you know that?" Roy challenged back, eyes narrowed. "I imagine much the same as me; I have no idea. It's the same way that I know what an array is... I don't have any idea."
"But you just... know," Ed filled in with a heavy sigh, looking back to the words again. What the hell was going on? How did he know what those words meant- and how did Roy know? What did this all mean?
Curiously, he reached down to touch the words again, starting to trace them around the circle. Roy, however, jerked away with a loud hiss, glaring daggers over his shoulder all over again, looking about to smack his hand away. "What's wrong with you?! Leave it alone!"
"What...?"
"That hurt," the older man hissed, pushing him back again, and Ed frowned again.
"I barely touched you! I- wait a minute..." He looked back at the still exposed skin curiously, running his eyes over the pale back. It didn't really look all that recent- but it wasn't as if Ed knew all that much about how tattoos healed. Maybe it was recent, not yesterday or the day before, but...
Maybe he'd only gotten it a few weeks ago, and that was why him just barely prodding the skin had hurt.
And if Roy had only gotten it a few weeks ago...
He's only been here a few weeks.
A cold sense of trepidation started to nestle inside him, and suddenly, his own back started to itch.
"Switch with me," he ordered coldly, voice not shaking only through a heroic effort, and in the middle of Roy's surprised start pushed to get the man to move so Ed could lean up against the wall instead, nodding over his own shoulder. "See if I have one."
"What?" Even as Roy questioned him, he saw the older man moving to do what he'd asked, one hand reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Why would you have one of-... oh."
The soft, muted note of surprise in the last syllable was all the answer his growing nest of anxiety needed.
Oh.
Ed swallowed tightly, nerves bundling even tighter, and clenched his fist against the wall.
Shit.
"...Is it the same?" he managed to ask finally, trembling in the silence.
Slowly, stiffly, Roy nodded. A worried note of trepidation crossed his face and he felt Roy tracing a circle on his own back, his fingers cold but steady. "Et clavem et primum sumus, alibi et clauditem et secundum sunt... here it is. Right here. If it's not the same as mine, it's really quite similar."
After several uncomfortable moments, he felt Roy let go of his shirt and Ed turned around, shakily limping back over to the bed to sit down with a heavy sigh. He wound his fingers in the sheets, fighting to try and keep his real unease off his face, and stared at Roy as the man moved to join him.
"Your tattoo is recent," he pointed out unsteadily, trying to keep himself tied only to the facts. "That's why it hurt- I didn't do anything to it. You haven't been here all that long. And, now, if... if I have one, too..."
He didn't really want to say it aloud, himself. He knew what those nurses said about him, chiding him to stop being so suspicious, that he was just sick, paranoid delusions, they said- but Roy didn't even hesitate. Roy didn't look at him like he was weird or crazy. Roy just nodded darkly at him, an errant shudder working its way down through his shoulders, and broke his gaze to stare soberly down at the floor. "You think the doctors gave us these tattoos."
"Don't you?" Unable to maintain his facade any longer Ed started to gesture, first at Roy and then at himself. "Seems like you didn't have one until you came here. And what kind of coincidence is it that I would have one, too?"
"Unless we knew each other before we ended up here," Roy pointed out, sensibly, the older man probably thought; it just sounded stupid to Ed. "Unless we were in the same... I don't know... satanic cult..."
"Well, wouldn't that raise even more questions, then?! We both know each other, we both end up in this nuthouse with no memory whatsoever, no contact with the outside world- shouldn't that be even weirder, then?"
Ed beamed when Roy, his mouth already open for a refutation, stopped dead, argument thrown to the wind. "Well, I-" the man started, frowning, then stopped again. "...There's surely... another explanation..."
Shrugging, Ed just hitched up his leg to sit back on the edge of his bed, inviting Roy to continue on without words. Obviously, Roy knew just as well as he did that something extremely fishy was going on here- whether he was quite ready to admit it or not. That'd probably take a couple days, Ed guessed; he hadn't been so ready to commit to all his suspicions straight away, either- but he would understand. Once they started trying to treat him as well, and he saw what really went on here, he'd get it.
Of course, even once Roy had been drafted over to his side, Ed still wasn't sure just how exactly they were going to figure out just what the hell was going on here.
Ed heard the footsteps outside before he consciously realized anything else, and found himself moving before he'd even grasped what was going on. "Shut up," he mumbled, wiping every bit of suspicion away from his face as he dropped back to sit on his hospital bed. "Stay quiet."
Roy turned after him, tilting his head in confusion. "What-"
The door opened before he could finish the question, and two nurses came inside.
"Oh, there you two are!" one exclaimed. He was pretty sure that one was Ann, though the nurses had been careful so far not to tell him their names- eavesdropping was an invaluable skill. "We were wondering where you'd gotten off to."
"It's time for your treatment, now, Edward," the other told him, the younger of the pair; he thought she was Susan. She got expectantly behind a waiting wheelchair, a permanent staple to his room, and cold irritation and anger washed through him from head to toe.
Great. Fucking 'treatment'. Again. Yay.
Great. That fucking wheelchair. Again. Yay.
He fucking hated that thing. He hated being pushed around like an invalid, so weak and useless, hated them never even allowing him the chance to try and walk himself. He'd tried asking, but they'd just chided him like he was a stupid child and told him to sit back down.
At least Roy hadn't forced him to go in the damn thing. Roy, knowing him all of one day, had let him walk back under his own power, and had had the grace to not hover like an asshole like he expected him to fall.
But Ed kept his mouth shut, this time. He'd learned his lesson about arguing with them. He just couldn't control himself. He'd get too worked up, it happened every time, and they either realized he wasn't properly drugged or thought he was having some sort of episode, and either way, he'd end up drugged so stupid he wouldn't get out of bed for days. Drugged stupid with pills that made him hurt, made him sick, made him hallucinate- but every time he complained, they told him it wasn't the drugs. It was him. He was the one who was sick, and the drugs were just helping him.
He knew it was all a fucking lie.
But right now, he was just powerless to do anything about it.
He kept his eyes dull and expressionless and on the floor, just giving a listless little nod no matter the miserable despair that expanded inside him at the thought of another treatment. "Okay," he mumble, starting to reluctantly hop towards the wheelchair no matter how much it killed his pride to do it.
"Um... excuse me? Ma'am?"
Ed stiffened.
No, Roy. No, just shut up. Whatever it is, don't ask it. DON'T ASK IT.
He somehow managed to keep his eyes down but his ears open now, and he waited as the nurse sat him down in the wheelchair like he damn well couldn't have done it himself, listening as the pair turned their attention onto Roy. "Yes?"
There was a short moment of hesitation, one that, to Ed, screamed danger and trepidation and no- but Roy, the idiot, then just started talking.
"I'm sorry, I know you might not know, but- but, do you think you might be able to tell us where we got these tattoos?"
No. Roy. They can't, because they won't, because they're fucking keeping things from us, you stupid idiot. SHUT UP about it, just fucking shut up! Shut up NOW!
Ann chuckled, the same chuckle he always hated, the same grating, irritating noise that made him feel like a child being patronized. "Why do you think we'd know that, Roy?"
Roy hesitated again, and Ed could feel his uncertainty even with his gaze still down on his lap. "Well, we just... both have the same one. And, mine's recent, at least, so it seems like it's something the hospital did. We... were only wondering..."
Susan, this time; she was the one who laughed, her hand on Ed's shoulder. His skin itched and crawled with the urge to throw it off. "You think we gave you both tattoos? Roy, we're a hospital. Why on earth would we do that? That's just silly- ah, ah... Edward?" She moved around to crouch down in front of him, still looking at him like he was just a misbehaving child. "Edward, did you tell Roy we'd done this to you two?"
Roy, behind her, started, raising a hand as his eyes widened. "Wait a moment, now, that's not exactly-"
Ed, however, was too wary and unsure of himself to answer her, and Susan only gave him a moment or two of a non-response before she turned away with a heavy sigh, looking back to her partner. "Seems his paranoia is getting worse. We'll need to speak with the doctor, and it seems like we should give him a longer treatment today, to try and get him a little calmer."
"Wait just a moment!" Roy exclaimed, trying to step forward again. "He didn't do anything wrong! We were only talking-"
"Edward knows he needs to not be entertaining such thoughts, and he certainly shouldn't be sharing them with you- now, should you, Edward?" She gave him another stern look, patting his shoulder again, then looked back up again. "And we should be talking with the doctor about starting Roy's treatment a little sooner, too, if he was so easily convinced into believing something so paranoid."
Alarm flared inside him then and he even started to open his mouth, trying to deny it, before he locked his lips back shut with a jerk and kept himself silent. And what would happen if he tried to argue with them? He already knew what would happen; he tried it all the time. If he tried to protest, they'd just tell him he was getting upset and haul him off to tie him down in their fucking treatment room until he 'calmed down'. Arguing on Roy's behalf, trying to stop them from doing the same to him, would probably just make things worse for the both of them. He had to just shut up. He had to just keep his mouth shut and take it, and then, it would be over sooner.
Roy, however, didn't know that yet.
"Please, wait a moment!" he begged, trying to step around Ann to reach him. "He makes a valid point, you know! We have these insane, matching, recent tattoos- how can you not know anything about them?! You have to! And don't punish Ed for it, for god's sake, he didn't do anything wrong!"
With Ed's eyes still on his lap, he could only just barely see the earnest, pleading look on his face, and the quietly concerned, sympathetic glance the nurses shared rather than answer his very damn good questions. No matter how hard he was thinking at Roy to just shut up and sit down, it seemed the older man hadn't yet become susceptible to telepathy, because he was still just standing up and glaring like an idiot, and he didn't seemed to realize what was coming to him, either.
Ed did. Ed knew. Ed knew exactly what was coming.
But there was still nothing he could do to stop it.
Without another word, the nurses just pushed Ed out of the room, but Susan was left to stand right outside the doorway now- to stop Roy if he tried to leave, he knew. Ann continued to ignore him completely as she pushed him on the down the hallway, a ring of keys already out to get her out of their tiny, locked section in this tiny, locked ward, and she stopped just through the first locked door, taking Ed over to the nurse's station and calling over for some of her colleagues.
"We're going to need to send a few down to Roy's room; give him something to calm him down and subdue him. You'll need at least three, because he's gotten rather unruly." She tsked again, even as she reached forward to pat Ed's shoulder like he was her fucking pet. "Can you take care of that for me, while I take Edward here to his treatment?"
It was the first time Ed had seen it from this side of things- watching the nurses gather their manpower to subdue a patient, rather than being the one about to be subdued, and he couldn't help but shiver, a chill running down his spine at the reality that her disturbingly innocuous words hid. He shivered again at the way they just nodded calmly, like what they were about to do was totally fucking normal and okay, and found himself turning his gaze away before they got their team together to go take down Roy.
He had his own troubles now to focus on, after all.
They went through another locked door, down another hallway, then through yet another locked door. He shivered again, knowing this was the one, but did his very best to keep every bit of true emotions off his face, because if she saw how anxious he really felt, he'd find himself facing exactly what Roy was now. "You really shouldn't be telling stories like that to Roy, Edward," Ann told him as she pushed him into the room, then shut and locked the door behind her. Locked. Always fucking locked. "But it's all right; we understand it's not your fault. You're sick, Edward, so when you act out, we understand that's not your choice. Remember, that's why you're here; we're trying to get you better." She smiled at him, giving him another pat. "We'll give you a long treatment today- that should really help!"
He didn't say anything to that one, either, but yet again found himself having to restrain the cold urge from punching her right in her fucking face.
He'd already tried that one, too, after all.
Ed stubbornly didn't respond to her, trying to just play as docile and drugged as possible. He knew it wouldn't work, but it felt like he was throwing the lie in her face, somehow- that they claimed they did this to him to calm him down, when he was already sitting here, totally fucking calm. He didn't say a word as the nurse got him up again, this time taking him over to sit down in the waiting tub. He didn't even flinch when she first took his wrist, securing it tightly in the waiting straps, then his ankle, even though everything in him screamed against being restrained and every instinct he had begged him to run. They didn't always restrain him, not anymore, not now that he'd learned it was easier not to fight- but he'd known it was coming when they told him they were giving him a longer treatment today.
He clenched his teeth together, fighting the humiliating urge to try and curl up against the straps, kept his mouth shut, and tried as hard as he could then not to react, as the nurse then got the waiting ice, and smothered him in it.
He wasn't going to scream. He wasn't going to flinch. He wasn't going to show how much it hurt.
He didn't have much, anymore, but hiding it from them- he could still do that. He could still, at the very fucking least, manage that.
The ice baths were the easiest of their treatments, he thought. He had the most control of himself here, even though this was one tended to hurt the most. He was used to the pain, by now. He was used to the cold, too; after a certain point he just felt sleepy and numb, so numb he didn't care he was tied down and humiliated- he just had to get to that point.
Above all else, he just couldn't let himself react. He wouldn't let the damn nurse get her satisfaction.
The ice was up to a little bit below his neck, so he could let himself shiver, as long as he just managed to slip down enough so she couldn't see it. He couldn't hide his chattering teeth, so he just clenched his jaw together and didn't let it happen. He couldn't let himself cry out, no matter how badly it stung and ached and burned his sensitive skin, soaking straight through his thin clothes and submerging him almost from head to toe, hand and foot bound beneath the clinking ice and stumps screaming with the pain of it.
He wouldn't react. He'd grit his teeth and bear it, and take whatever of a victory from it that he could.
"Remember, Edward," the nurse told him as she checked the tightness of the straps one last time, "this'll help you calm down and feel much, much better. All right? We're just trying to help you get better."
He didn't let himself speak back. He didn't let himself even look at her.
Ed just slumped back down, clenched his teeth tighter, and did nothing at all but shiver through the pain and the cold, because that was the only way he had to win anymore.
I'm not sick. I'm not crazy. They're not helping me. I don't deserve this.
I'm not sick. They're not helping me. I'm not crazy. I don't deserve this.
I'm not sick. They're not helping me. I'm not crazy. I don't deserve this...