Thank you all so much for reviewing! As promised- the rescue and/or escape attempt now begins! :D
Also, new cover art, by Akarri! Look at ittttttt! It's wonderful! (and miles better than the random stock screenshot I was using before). Thanks, Akarri!
"Fullmetal! FULLMETAL! FULLMETAL, PLE-"
A hard first to the stomach cut off the scream mid-breath. It did not, however, stop Roy from fighting to get away with all his desperate, dying strength.
He'd seen him! Right there! Fullmetal had been just right there, he'd seen him past that door, limp in that man's arms as he was carried away, unmoving, his face slack and still- but he'd been right there! He'd been so close! He'd been so close Roy could almost have touched him-
He looked... dead.
-he'd been right there- he'd been-
"Shut up!" The guard behind him hissed, hauling him back with arms around his elbows while the other looked about to hit him again.
He was so close!
Fullmetall-
"Stay still, you piece of shit," he was snapped at again, arms pulling him back no matter how hard he fought to get away, their grips unyielding and agonizing to his destroyed hands- he was right there-
Another glow glanced off his head, this time hard enough to drive him all but to his knees, gasping through clenched teeth and battling the urge to vomit.
So close... so close, so close, I was so close...
Fullmetal, please...
Please hang on...
Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw the door open again- that same one he'd just watched Ed be carried past, that same door that was between him and saving Ed. He jerked his head up desperately, already straining to get free again- but it wasn't Ed, this time. It was Justin. Justin, storming past with his coat billowing and his eyes half-mad with irritation, Justin who'd been the one hurting Ed this whole time-
He started to lunge for freedom again, just too stricken and horrified to care about his own safety any longer, but the arms behind him were already gripping tighter, the guards both stiffening in surprise. They hadn't expected the break in routine, either. "S-sir," the dark-skinned one stammered, though the tight as iron grip around his aching arm did not loosen. "We were- just-"
"Change of plans," Justin barked, slipping past without so much as looking. "I'm leaving for tonight. The dog can just disappoint and fail me again tomorrow."
Roy threw himself forwards again with an almost-roar, fighting with his bound hands to get free as the son of a bitch just stormed away, not once even casting a glance in his direction. "Get back here!" he screamed. "You- you- FULLMETAL-"
Another door slammed, and Justin was gone.
Leaving Roy behind with the guards, alone again- and Fullmetal, still missing.
His stomach lurched violently with fear and anguish, and his mangled hands clenched so tightly he would've screamed, if he hadn't been so terrified.
This was the very first time he'd seen Ed in weeks, and he'd seen him like- like that. So limp and small he could've been dead, and if he wasn't dead already then he was certainly headed that way. Yes, on one level, he'd known this whole time Ed was being hurt and abused (because of you, Roy, because of your FAILURES, you piece of shit) but to see the proof like this... laid out so undeniably in front of him...
Ed didn't have long. If they kept on hurting him this badly, then he did not have long to last, and that was a fact- if he wasn't already... wasn't already dead...
Roy swallowed hard, trying not to choke at that horrible prospect.
But it didn't matter- because either way, it was suddenly very abruptly, horribly clear, that his one reason not to fight back was gone. The only way they'd had to control him so far was whenever he'd misbehaved, they'd take it out on Ed- but they'd already long ago crossed that line.
Either Roy risked everything, and figured out some way to get Ed out of here, and get him out now- or he was dead.
And if he looked at it that way, there was no risk at all.
I'm coming, Fullmetal.
I swear to god, I'm coming.
There were words over his head again, the guards discussing something over the screaming pain in his hands and beaten body and terror, then their rough grips hauling him off somewhere again; Roy processed none of it. All he knew- all he could feel, all he could see- was his array. The circle with the bloody salamander that had haunted him ever since he'd woken up in that padded cell.
All he could see was the array that had burned a country down.
The array he knew was his.
He could do this. He had to. He had no choice.
His hands were rough and bleeding; both of them, fingertips constantly oozing blood from the fingernails being ripped off, the backs cut and bruised and raw, the palms leaking red from tiny cigarette burns and more bruises. Getting the blood wasn't even the problem; the problem was finding a clean enough surface on his hands to sketch the circle. With his hands cuffed in front of him, it was hard, so hard; he couldn't draw attention, could not dare risk it, but at last he settled on the inside of his wrist, and there, he worked. He etched out the circle carefully, only glancing down towards his hands whenever he had to to still throw off suspicion. There, the second triangle... there, that little squiggle... and the salamander...
He didn't know how he knew he could do it, this time. Because he'd spent weeks failing to use that array for Justin, and he'd wanted to make it work every time, he'd tried as hard as he could with every single reminder that his failures cost Ed, but it had never worked once. His only most pathetic successes were whenever the pain got to be too much, his mind would blank out, and the circle would just- spark by accident- spark and sputter but still, ultimately, fail, because he was a failure and couldn't even protect Ed-
But he would do it this time. He knew, somehow, deep in his soul, that he could do it.
If he'd destroyed a nation with this array, then he could save a child.
You've done it before, Roy- whether you remember it or not.
Do it again.
One more time.
The guards forced him forwards again; some small part of him recognized it as the room with the ice baths, but he didn't care anymore. He was simply waiting- waiting for the perfect chance to use his array. If he always got the most success with Justin's in the worst moments of panic, pain, and fear? Then fine; he'd wait for that now. He'd tolerate whatever it took.
"You're not getting off easy today, Flame," the dark-skinned one spat, hand wavering dangerously close to smacking at the back of his head; he flinched on instinct, but this time, no blow came. "Don't worry- we'll keep you right on schedule," he went on, and once upon a time those words would've made something in him shiver, because he knew what he meant, and he didn't want to. He was exhausted and fucking tired and terrified of his head being shoved through that water until he drowned- but he no longer cared.
There wasn't any punishment they could promise that would stop him from doing this.
They shoved him onto his knees again and he crumpled down without protest or even the strength to stop it. Then there were hands at the back of his neck, shoving his head down too and before he knew it he was underwater, coughing and gagging and body trying to fight on instinct-
But this time, he had something to fight for.
He waited, thumb hovering over the array.
He waited, as the hands pinned him down, and the oxygen ran out.
He waited, until every beat of his heart was fueled on dying panic alone, and the same terror and light-headed agony that he'd grown so familiar with started to overtake him in one fell swoop.
And then, Roy pressed his thumb to the edge of the circle, gasped in a breath, and fought.
And just like that, it was over.
The guards' hands were gone, and all the pressure on his back and neck keeping him under the water vanished- and Roy found himself throwing himself up out of the water like a suffocating fish gasping for life.
There was instant noise behind him, the rush of alchemy that had sparked through his wrist fading away with the shock of the surprise as his bound hands started to fall apart. Instantly he pressed his thumb to the array again, panic pounding through his heart as he desperately threw himself back into the array, breathing in the memory of fire and begging for it to work, this was all he had, this was his one and final chance, this was for Ed, it had to work-
Nothing happened.
Oh, the array worked. He felt it work. Finally, for the very first time, he felt that euphoric rush Ed had told him about so many weeks ago; he felt it sizzle into his skin as alchemy sparked on his fingertips, and he knew it was working.
And yet, as he knelt there, head down and shoulders shaking, curled with the sheer terror of what if you failed this time, Roy, what if you failed AGAIN-
Nothing happened.
Nothing at all.
The guards were just... gone.
Several shocked moments passed, Roy kneeling there frozen in disbelief, and everything else in the room completely still and silent.
Finally, shakily, Roy jerked himself around, keeping his hands pressed together to active the transmutation at the very first sign that it was needed. Each breath was short and stricken as he panted and knelt there, eyes darting wildly around the room as he flattened himself back, ready to lash out and defend himself once again...
But there was nothing to defend against.
The two guards were all slumped on the ground, utterly motionless but entirely uninjured. One was facedown, looking as if he hadn't even tried to brace his fall; the other, he could at least catch a glimpse of his face...
Roy gasped.
He didn't look unconscious.
His red eyes, open wide and staring, perfectly blank, perfectly... empty...
He looked dead.
Slowly, Roy looked down at the bloody circle on his hand, stunned, then turned back towards the guards.
Feeling, hesitantly, for their pulses confirmed it: each one was dead.
Horrified, he took a step back, then another, and another, withdrawing until he was pressed back against the wall again. He stared down at his hand, at the deadly circle he'd been counting on, suddenly sickened by it. What had he done? What had he done? He hadn't meant to kill them... even if he'd surely had every right, by now... but he hadn't meant this. He'd just wanted to hurt them. Hurt, wound, incapacitate, yes... but kill them? And like that? So quickly and effortlessly... it'd barely taken him any strength at all- but in a split second, so quickly they couldn't even try to defend themselves or even see it coming, they'd died.
What was this thing? Alchemy, Ed called it, alchemy... and even after all the doctor forced them do with it, Ed had still sworn he liked it. Roy had told him the truth, he'd told him he thought it was bad, wrong- but Ed had thought it was a good thing. He hated making the gold here, but he swore it could be good. But Roy... Roy got the feeling he'd never liked using it, period, not here, not anywhere else, not before any of this. And that circle on his hand... how natural it had felt, how emblazoned into his memory it was, what it had done... how could alchemy be anything but wrong?
How could he have done this?
"Sir, how exactly is THIS the secret to flame alchemy? You didn't make any flames at all. Nothing even happened."
"No, no, no! You're not understanding, Hawkeye!" Ecstatic, relieved, joyful, amazed... "Something DID happen, you just didn't see it!"
"Sir..."
"Any idiot with a matchbox can make fire, Hawkeye. That's not the secret to flame alchemy, that's the secret to arson. No, the secret is CONTROLLING it. Oxygen! The key is oxygen! And I just controlled it!"
The circle gleamed in his mind again. The bloody circle. The salamander. Fire.
"It's oxygen, Hawkeye! That's what the array does! Oxygen!"
Fire... and oxygen.
Roy stared down at the circle again, reeling.
That was it. He'd controlled the oxygen. By the looks of it... had stolen every ounce of oxygen from their bodies. They'd died before they'd even hit the floor- suffocated in a room full of air.
Roy slowly dropped down to his knees, staring down at the nearest guard, his open, dead red eyes. His stomach flipped, entire body shivering with something he couldn't quite identify, and for just a moment, he found himself too overwhelmed to even think. His cold, aching, bleeding hands reached forward of their own accord, the handcuffs clinking gently as he forced himself to move for his pocket, searching for the keys he knew were there, and above all trying to clear his head, trying not to think...
His eyes shot, unbidden, towards the dead's man face again.
This time, his world twisted, and he saw (remembered) it half melted with his own fires, and frozen in a rictus of dying agony.
He threw himself around just in time to vomit all over the floor, the keys clutched in his shaking hands.
You did that. You did that. You don't remember how, but it was YOU. You killed people, just like this- and you're doing it again. You're doing it again right now.
Can you really say you don't deserve everything they've done to you here?
Can you REALLY say that, Roy?!
Slowly, Roy lowered his head again, forcing his mind to clear and slumping against the cold floor as he took in a deep, meant to be calming sort of breath.
It didn't matter.
What he'd just done, and what he'd done in the past- whether he had deserved all of this or not- didn't matter.
Because Ed didn't have any other choice, and only one thing mattered to him, now: getting Ed, and getting the hell out of here.
And if he had to take that deadly circle on his hand and slaughter the entire hospital to do it, then he would.
The first step was back out into the hallway, the hallway which was now deserted, the keys still clenched tightly as a knife in one bleeding fist while his other hand stayed pressed against the array, ready to use it at the slightest provocation. His heart was pounding with both exhilaration and something close to panic as he turned straight back down to where he'd just managed to glimpse Ed before. He knew he had a couple of minutes, at least; Justin had already left, and his own guards were... not going to be intervening... but Ed's guards were still loose, and Roy would much rather avoid a fight with them than put his array to the test a second time.
Shaking his head vigorously, Roy took off down the hallway at a half-run, breaking past the first door and turning instantly in the direction Ed had vanished to. Thank god, there was only one choice of a door to head through, so he barged through that one too, thumb pressed to his array- but the new hall was just as deserted as the last one. Scowling, Roy narrowed his eyes as he glanced up and down it, searching for some sign, any sign of where they'd taken Ed-
His heart skipped a beat.
This hallway...
He knew this hallway.
This...
This was the place they'd taken him, so long ago.
The hall with the padded cells.
His jaw tensed.
Those... monsters...
His worst fears had been true. After everything Ed had already been through- after they'd already stuffed him in one of these before and all but thrown away the key- they'd put him back in one. And Roy had the instant realization that it could be his fault- because they'd told him weeks ago they were trying to separate them, that could've been why- but it could've just as easily been what Justin had said, couldn't it? Justin had told him Ed would be the one to pay the price for his constant failure to work his god damn array. He'd promised it daily, promised it every single time he'd pressed his hands down but nothing had happened-
This could've been that punishment.
This, too, could've been his fault.
Roy swallowed hard, pushing down the bile in his throat, and again violently forced that into the back of his mind
You can apologize later.
Now, you just have to find him.
He lurched desperately down the hall, starting with a door at sheer random and forcing the key into it until he could shove it open. Nothing. Next one. He swallowed, mouth dry as he fought the urge to scream out Fullmetal's name; the walls were heavily soundproofed, and even if they weren't, something told him shouting his head off right now was a patently terrible idea. If Ed was even awake to answer him- because Roy had seen him just minutes before, and he hadn't been awake then, just slumped into a dead faint, or, or-
Not worse, he was still alive, Roy, he HAS to still be alive-
Nothing in the second cell, either. Another panicked breath left him as he lunged for the third locked door, wrestling desperately to get it open; oh, god, there were at least a dozen doors in this hallway alone, he was running out of time, where was he, where was he? He had to be here! He had to find him! "Come on," he muttered frantically, the key scraping and fighting him over and over, "come on, come on, damn it-"
The door gave way just as his patience was about to break and Roy pushed through the third door just as quickly as he had the last two.
And this time, he finally struck gold.
Fullmetal.
It was a tiny padded cell, the exact same way as he'd remembered it, except part of him swore this one was even smaller than the one they'd left him in. And there, slumped on his side all the way across the room, his eyes shut, and his hair spilling across his face but Roy could see it just faintly shifting with each breath, was Fullmetal.
He was there.
And he was alive.
Relief expanded desperately in his heart, and for the first time in weeks, Roy found himself smiling.
He was here, and he was alive.
Roy strode across the cell in three shaking steps, the keys barely clasped in limp fingers as he dropped to his knees in front of him. "Fullmetal," he gasped hoarsely, one trembling, aching hand reaching forward to brush against his face. He barely had the sensation to tell anymore but he thought the skin seemed cold, too cold, and Roy found himself reaching forward with his other arm, gently lifting Ed's limp form off the floor and shaking him, just a little. "Fullmetal, it's me. It's Roy."
For several unbearable seconds, he got no response.
Then, just as Roy started to lift his bloody hand to his face again, two glazed, pained eyes cracked open.
Again, for several unbearable seconds, Ed just stared at him.
Please remember me... please know who I am... they can't have hurt you this badly, Fullmetal, please- it's all my fault, I'm so sorry, please, please, remember me...
Ed blinked blearily. Then finally- finally- his mouth slipped into a tiny, trembling smile.
"I knew it," he breathed, voice cracking. "I... I knew you'd show up."
Something in Roy's heart clenched.
Ed had trusted him.
After all this time... after so much of this being his fault...
Ed had still trusted him.
He swallowed thickly, lip trembling just a bit, and before he knew what he was really doing had slid his heavy, aching arms back tightly around Ed and pulled him to his chest. "I'm sorry it took so long," he whispered back, and would've been embarrassed to say his voice was just as unsteady as Ed's if there'd still been any pride left in him to break. "I... g-guess I got a little lost on the way."
I'm sorry it took me so long, Fullmetal.
I'm so, so sorry.
He felt more than saw Ed take in a deep, shuddering breath against his shoulder. For several seconds, it was just that; just Ed trembling against him, cold and hurt in ways Roy didn't want to even think about, but alive and safe now; he was going to see to that if it killed him. The apologies stuck in his throat; the apologies for hurting him, the apologies for failing him, the apologies for whatever he'd done to hurt him before this place, but somehow he couldn't say them now, couldn't do anything but just sit there and hold him as Ed shook and wordlessly promise him that it was over, now- that he'd protect him with his very life.
Finally, it was Ed who managed to pull himself together enough to break the silence.
"G-get this shit off me," he whispered again, pressing his head back into Roy's shoulder.
Roy swallowed tightly again, nodding. He tightened his arms around him for one senseless moments, then forced himself to lean back, holding Ed out at arm's length. "Of course." He broke eye contact, somehow feeling too guilty to really look at him as he started all but attacking the straitjacket, jerking at the straps to forcibly loosen them and just wanting to see it as far away from Ed as he could get it. It took him a minute- too long- and by the way Ed couldn't even look down at it it was too long for him, too, but he finally managed to loosen it enough to be able to just rip it away, throwing it violently over his shoulder to leave Ed sitting there before him, blinking, shaking, entirely overwhelmed- but free.
Free, Roy was sure, for the first time in weeks.
"It's okay," he promised shakily again, lowering his bleeding hands down onto his shoulders. "I- I promise, Fullmetal. It's going to be okay, now."
Ed stared up at him with wide eyes, face almost blank, gaze almost unseeing as he blinked and said nothing. He shook his head for several moments, disbelieving, finally murmuring, "He said you'd... c-come back, but I thought..." Another weak, overwhelmed smile wavered into place. "I can't believe you're actually... here."
Roy frowned briefly, still holding him by his shoulders. Ed's words didn't make much sense, but after god only knew how many hours he'd spent trapped in this room, in that fucking straitjacket, could he really blame him for being a little disoriented? He'd be better once he'd managed to get him out of his godforsaken hospital and somewhere actually safe, surely. He shook himself, trying to ground himself once again, then just tightened his grip on Ed's shoulders no matter the pain.
Yeah. I am here, Fullmetal.
And I'm not going to ever let you go again, this time.
After a too-short, anguishing heartbeat, Ed finally felt Roy draw away a little, the look on his face saying that he clearly did not want to but that they were far past the point of being able to take such a luxury now. "Come on," Roy insisted, voice forcibly gruff probably to try and cover the soft quaver in it as he helped him up to stand. "I took out my guards, but I don't know where yours are. We've got a couple hours until rounds again, though, so they won't realize we're missing for a while- but we need to get going as soon as possible."
Ed shrugged reluctantly, wishing he could help but, just like Roy, he hadn't even been able to leave the room without being under strict guard in weeks. He had no idea where his guards ended up, when not manhandling him around. He hopped a little closer to Roy, wrapping his arm more securely around his not at all for balance any more but just to be closer to him, to know this was real and he wasn't going away. "We've gotta find mine, too, bastard," he croaked. "You know we can't screw this up." He hesitated, glancing up anxiously as Roy gently continued to lead him to the door, letting him slowly gain his balance back as he stood for the first time in weeks. "How did you get away, anyway?" he breathed. Roy had to have been restricted just as much as him. Sure, he had the extra two limbs to help, but still...
To his surprise, however, Roy did not jump to explain whatever near impossible thing he'd done to earn his own freedom. Rather, he drew to an uncertain halt by the door, steps suddenly faltering and features shadowing. "I..." He looked away, drawing in on himself. "...doesn't matter."
"...Bastard?"
Pale and shadowed, the older man just shook his head, breathing out heavily. "Come on," he insisted again, lowering his voice. "Let's just get out of here, okay? All you have to know is if they find us before we find them, I can protect you. That's all." He looked down at Ed, the dark look in his eyes overwritten by a protective, almost possessive sort of light, and gripped his arm even tighter.
If the circumstances had been different, Ed might've pushed him further- but as it was now, he was just too relieved to be able to see and speak to him again to care. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded, drawing even closer to his side. Roy was right. It wasn't important now. All that mattered was getting free.
Roy led the way, taking him carefully out into the hallway. With a finger to his lips, the older man pointed down to the right, the opposite way that they'd always taken him, and with a shaky nod, Ed followed him. It was an exhilarating, amazing sort of rush, so potent he almost wanted to cry. He hadn't even been able to be on his own feet in weeks, never mind be able to choose where to go! A swell of affection grew inside of him and he had to push back the emotion-stricken urge to just throw his arm around Roy in gratitude and never let go. Time for that later, Ed, he told himself, shaking his head. Right now we've got a jailbreak to attend to.
Together, they crept silently down towards the what they had identified as the staff break room so many weeks ago, in their very first attempts at scouting this place out to try and find a way to freedom. With another finger to his lips, Roy gestured for him to follow and leaned carefully up against the door, pressing his ear to the wood.
"...what's up with him. Today was just... off."
"Whatever it is, I hope it's back to normal tomorrow. That was just... unsettling."
Ed exchanged another anxious, worried look with Roy. They both tensed.
They'd found the guards.
"I know- and speaking of back to normal, where are the others? Shouldn't they have finished Mustang by now? I know they usually take extra long to deal with him, but- it's been an awful long time, hasn't it?"
"Don't worry, they're probably slacking off. Hang on, I'll go check- I mean, it's not as if there's any other explanation. There's no way Mustang actually got free." There was a quite, annoyingly smug shared chuckle, the scrape of a chair on the tile flooring- and then, footsteps...
Blinking, Ed jerked back away from the doorway, alarm spiking through him as he looked back up at Roy. The older man looked startled too, almost apprehensive, almost as if he'd been expecting to avoid another fight and wasn't at all ready now that they were about to be discovered- Ed tugged on his sleeve, getting him to move back, then gesturing at the door with a tilt of his head. He grinned.
Roy watched him for a moment, eyes wide... then, realized.
He grinned right back, and got into position with him.
They waited together, listening intently for the sounds of the footsteps as they drew nearer and nearer. Finally, the door knob started to turn, and the heavy door began to swing open...
To be promptly met by Ed and Roy, heaving it back with every ounce of their strength to slam into the guard's face.
The moment the plaster smashed against their target, garnering a shocked, pained groan and cry, Roy didn't even hesitate. He shot around the corner with a battle shout, lunging into the room so quick Ed was almost off-balanced by the sudden lack of support- not to mention the betrayal. You're not doing this alone, you prick! Wait for me!
Ed threw himself past the threshold jerking into the room to find Roy already embroiled in a brawl with the last two people standing between them and freedom. With a snarl, Ed jumped onto the back of the only one he could reach, locking an arm around his throat and a leg around his chest. He used his weight to yank the man back from Roy, tearing and scratching at everything within his grasp until he started to pound on his head, bringing his fist down as hard and fast as he could. "You fucking ass, get out of our way!" he screeched, pounding on him again. "Get the fuck out of our way!"
The asshole- the guard who was also extra rough with the straitjacket, Ed remembered with a stab of vengeance-induced pleasure- evidently did not have a head made of steel. It only took five well placed, enraged hits to get him to stagger, dropping like a stone to his knees, and one more for good measure to knock him flat on his stomach.
Ed then promptly hit him again, knocking him around the head so hard it nearly wrenched his arm out of the socket to do it.
"Fucking asshole," he hissed, and finally leaned back, lowering his bleeding knuckles to the floor.
Across the room, Roy was staring at him openly, eyes wide- his own opponent dangling limply, passed out as well, shirt fisted in the older man's hand the only thing keeping him in the air. Roy himself, panting a little but seeming no worse for wear, just gaped at him. "Where'd you learn how to do that?" he finally breathed, straightening a little but not releasing his attacker.
Ed snorted. "What, just because I've only got two limbs means I can't hold my own in a fight?"
"...Uh... pretty much. Yeah."
"Oh, just shut up, bastard!" He wrenched himself off the man's back to lean against the wall, making a show of relaxing and coming this close to sticking his tongue out. "No one fucking asked you your opinion anyway. But close your mouth. Unless you wanna still be standing there staring when these two come back around."
Roy blinked, as if only just remembering their dire predicament, then coughed and nodded. "I... right. Of course." He rubbed carefully at once arm, making a face, then heaved his load over onto a nearby chair with one hand and grimaced heavily, and knelt in from of him, digging through the pockets. "Search them," he ordered, but his voice was just a little rough, and he rubbed irritably at his arm again. "We'll need everything we can find."
Ed frowned, glaring over at him and making no move to jump to follow his command. "You okay?" he pressed, glancing anxiously to the slightly awkward angle Roy was still holding his arm at. On one hand, if Roy had gotten hurt while Ed, two limbs and all, had held his own, he was never going to let him live it down- but on the other, more serious, note, this was really the absolute last thing they needed right now. "Bastard, you-"
"I'm fine," Roy cut him off shortly, already digging through his target's pockets. "And even if I'm not, I really don't see how we have time to deal with it now, Fullmetal. We need to get out of here, first, okay? Everything else we'll have to deal with later."
Ed grimaced reluctantly- but the bastard did have a point, no matter how much he didn't like it. Roy was obviously injured anyway- Ed was already trying pretty hard not to look at his hands- and Ed really did not want to think about his own state, right now; there was probably a hell of a lot wrong with the both of them-
But the bastard was right. That didn't matter right now.
All that mattered was getting out of here.
Together, they made short order of freeing their two former guards of their keys, handcuffs, and anything at all that could be used as a weapon. Next to him, Roy filched a pocket knife out of the jacket of one, flicked it open, then shrugged and tucked it away in his own clothes. "Could be handy," he commented dryly, glancing at Ed.
Ed shook his head instantly. "Yeah, uh, you keep that. If I tried to stab someone, I'd probably just overbalance and fall over."
Roy snickered. "Good point." He brushed his hands off, looking over the two unconscious guards again, then grimaced. "All right. Before we tie this lot up, then..." He tugged on the nurse's uniform, starting to work it over the limp man's head.
Ed started, then grinned as he got it. It would potentially make things easier, if they were dressed as staff rather than patients, to break out of here... just so long as they didn't run into that god dammed doctor. "Good thinking, bastard," he muttered, and started procuring his own set of clothes.
Dressed anew, Ed stood there for several moments, just staring down at himself. Then, flushing furiously, he tentatively raised his eyes to look across the room at Roy- currently too busy with smirking up a storm to do much else.
Because there Roy was. Without knowing any better, Ed would've guessed him a nurse, not a captive patient aiming to break free. Dressed in pale blue scrubs, one hundred percent confident, and with an easygoing air that sold the facade perfectly.
And, there Ed was.
Shirt, dangling somewhere down close to his knees. Pants, two bottom inches at least tripping up under his toes.
His cheeks warmed further, and Roy, for his part, looked so infuriatingly amused Ed actually wanted to hit him.
"...Shut up."
"My god, Fullmetal." Roy rubbed his face with a trembling, bloody hand that left behind a wet, red smear, looking as if he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing at the sight. "I mean, really. Why must you be so small?"
"I- I'm not small!"
Roy raised an eyebrow.
"...You're all just freakishly big- I- you shut up!"
The older man chuckled for a moment, but let it pass quickly, since they really weren't in a situation to take time and laugh here. "You'd better change back, Fullmetal," he said, gesturing at the pile of clothes on the floor. "It's for the best, anyway, really. You probably wouldn't pass for a nurse, with a missing arm and leg."
Ed winced. The truth behind the words hurt a hell of a lot more than it probably should've, especially since Roy really hadn't intended it as an insult... but he was right. What use would he really be, to anyone, without an arm and a leg? What use would he be to his Al? He really was just a cripple... all this time, Roy had been carrying his weight- literally- this poor kid, unable to help himself...
He sighed, shutting his eyes for a breath. No. There wasn't time for this. He had to believe his Al was out there somewhere, waiting for him- all four limbs or not. He had to fight his way out to him- had to stand up with Roy and walk out of this hell, no matter how hard it was or how useless he felt. He had to do this.
With a heavy heart, fetching his earlier, abandoned clothes off the floor, he glanced for a moment at the man he'd stolen them from. Unconscious. Beaten down by his own hand.
Roy's shocked stare flickered through his mind again, and, briefly, Ed really let himself smile.
I'm not useless.
With a long sigh, Ed tugged on the hospital shirt over his head again, wincing briefly at the feel of the thin, flimsy cloth against his skin. "I miss real clothes," he sighed, dragging himself back around to Roy, who was busying himself cuffing the guards. Hearing it aloud, it sounded just like a whine, especially after all the absolutely worse shit they'd gone through here- but he really, forlornly, meant it. He was so sick and tired of hospital- everything. Hospital beds, hospital rules, hospital clothes, hospital food...
Whether he remembered a thing or not, he knew, very well, that he missed his real life dearly.
It had sounded like a whine, but the smile Roy gave him was grim with emotion and real with its honesty. "When we get out of here, Fullmetal?" he promised, taking his arm with a warm and secure grip. "We'll go shopping. We'll eat real food- Xingese spicy shit, so spicy it feels like you're eating goddammed fire- and then I'll buy you all the real clothes you want. If you want damn leather pants, Fullmetal, you can have them."
His heart thudded with warm, painful affection again. "And then, we'll go looking together. I'll find my Al, then help you find your blue." He smiled fiercely, promise reverberating in every syllable.
"Fullmetal..." Roy's face shadowed again, the older man glancing away as he helped Ed further down the empty hall, shoulders slumping a little. "Be reasonable. It's going to be a lot easier for you to find someone named Al than it will be for me to find..." He trailed off into a helpless, frustrated sort of shrug. "-my blue." He sighed again. "You really shouldn't concern yourself... just find Al, and-"
"Idiot." Ed rolled his eyes, wishing Roy's arm wasn't the only thing holding him upright so he could punch him for this. "You're the one who's getting us out of here. So I damn well am gonna return the favor, and make sure you find your stupid blue. Okay? You will find it- we'll look together until you do." He cracked a half-smile, glaring at the idiot bastard until he was sure his words had driven home. "Equivalent exchange, right?"
They both slowed to a halt to stare at each other, wide-eyed. Roy blinked, head cocking to the side as his eyes dimmed, going distant with recognition. Ed stiffened in familiarity, the words ringing in his ears and tasting like sweet honey on his tongue.
Then, with a forced shake of his head and a fierce grin, he gripped Roy's arm tighter, and nudged him along another step. "And we're gonna figure out why that phrase was familiar to both of us. But we can't do that until we get out of here. So let's get going, bastard. To Al, and blue."
Roy grinned back.
"To Al and blue," he agreed, and led the way again.
As Ed had hoped, the night shift had left the place abandoned. Them being the only two patients- inmates- whatever it was that they were- the only staff in this wing had been the ones there to guard them. Half of them were currently unconscious and tied up, and the other half... however they had been detained, Roy had told him not to worry, so he wouldn't. But aside from those four, it appeared that they were well and truly alone here as they crept to safety, and snuck to freedom.
When they turned the last corner, and there it was, that precious door that had guarded them for months, a flimsy little barrier between them and the world that had stood for all this time- and suddenly that was all it was, just a door for them to pass through, Ed almost wanted to cry. The quick, ragged intake of breath next to him told him the sight had stricken Roy just as much as him, and he nearly buckled, swallowing hard. This was really it. There was nothing stopping them. They were going to do it. They were going to be free- they were- they were going home!
Home.
His heart hammering in anguished desire in his chest, Ed pulled even closer to Roy's side, and the older man wrapped his fingers even tighter around his, and they both took off together in the closest thing they could get to a run.
All too soon it was there, right there in front of them, so close he could touch it, and he did. He threw himself away from Roy and up against it, clutching at the knob like that would make it open as the man searched desperately on his stolen keys, looking for one that would set them free. He itched to get out of here, suddenly shaking and gasping and simply unable to bear it now that they were so close, just inches away. He heard Roy shaking, too, the keys clinking together as he jammed one after another in the lock, yanking desperately to turn them until one finally did, and with a strangled sort of gasp he pulled it free and shoved the door open.
And there it was. Freedom.
Just like that.
Ed froze, staring out over the threshold. His heart thudded painfully, squeezing up into his throat. There it was. A hallway just like this one, long and white and plain. A sign overheard, labelling where they were now as Psychiatric Ward- Secure Wing. A few shut doors.
But it was unspeakably different, because it was free.
Next to him, Roy's fingers wrapped warmly and securely around his own. They squeezed tightly, and without even looking, Ed pressed his arm against his, moving until he was so close he could feel the other man breathe.
"Together," he whispered, nearly choking on wet, frantic emotion.
Roy squeezed tighter, and together, they went.
And together, they then dropped.
Ed clutched onto him as his leg went out, grabbing onto his arm for dear life with a strangled shout. Roy took a dive beside him, his knees buckling, scrambling to grab onto the wall with his free hand but ultimately failing to hit the floor right next to him. "Holy fucking- oh my god-" Ed wrenched backwards, dragging Roy with him to writhe on the floor, gasping through clenched teeth.
It felt like someone had just set his back on fire.
A horrified, agonized look in Roy's direction told him the older man was in the same state he was. Hunched over and gasping, almost more shocked than in pain... when he regained the wherewithal to speak, Ed grabbed him by the arm again, fingernails digging desperately into his skin. "You felt that, too?"
After several seconds, Roy nodded, releasing another ragged breath. "Y-yeah. My back. The second we stepped over the doorway... my back just..."
He trailed off into silence, dark eyes widening like he'd just been slapped across the face. He jerked around to stare at Ed, abruptly frozen with horror. "The tattoos," he whispered.
Ed gasped.
The tattoos on their backs.
"The... the words on the tattoos..." Roy pulled back an inch, looking between him and the doorway that might as well be lava to them. "They talked about locks, and keys..." His dark eyes focused on the doorway again, and after a stunned beat of silence, they both paled.
"This is the door." Ed inched a hand forward, carefully stopping just short of the invisible barrier between them and freedom. "Somehow, the tattoos are tied to it. They're... they're locking us in here." He swallowed, drawing backwards and moving closer to Roy, lifting his new shirt up enough to see. Sure enough, the skin around the tattoo was red and inflamed, the black lines of ink spiraling over his back like an exotic death sentence. "Yeah... it's the tattoo, all right." He let the shirt drop shakily and sat back limply, suddenly drained of everything but the numb pit of horror, sinking into the base of his stomach.
The tattoo, and whatever they'd done to the doorway, was enough.
They couldn't cross it.
Suddenly, Roy's hand was on his again, tight and unyielding. "What'll happen if we cross it anyway?" he pressed, making as if to stand. He glared over at the door, at the invisible alchemy that kept them imprisoned. "Sure, it's supposed to keep us in here... but what if we just walk straight past it?"
Ed groaned, rubbing his hand over his face without even really considering the question at first. "I really don't know any more than you, bastard. I don't remember anything about alchemy. Quit asking me- hey, wait...!"
But Roy was already turning, pulling away from him into a crouch just an inch away from the door. "This is our only option. We don't have time to try and figure out a way past this door and there isn't another way out. Fullmetal, if we don't leave now, when Justin comes back in the morning..."
He shuddered violently, fading into a sickened silence at the very idea of the torture that would be waiting for them. "This is our only option," he finished quietly. "It's all we have."
"But it could kill us!"
"Staying here will kill us!" Roy shot back, abruptly loud and insistent again. "We don't have any other choice." He pulled away from Ed's hand, squaring his shoulders to face the invisible barrier without even a hint of fear. "I'm going to cross it. Either it kills me- a better fate than waiting for the morning, I'd say- or, we can escape. This is our only choice, and I'm taking it."
"But..." Ed swallowed hard, the idea of this just... no. "But, bastard, if... if it kills you..."
If it killed him, Ed would be left sitting here alone. Certain death if he fled, and certain torture if he stayed... and this time, he would not survive it.
Because he'd be alone.
If it killed him, Ed would be left sitting here alone... across from his corpse.
He-
He couldn't.
He just couldn't.
And Roy, evidently, realized it too, because the light of determination faded away into shared misery and guilt. He moved back from the deadly barrier, staring down at him in a black storm of hesitation and... fear. Yes, fear.
Fear for himself, that he was about to die...
And fear for him.
Fear for what would happen to him, if this ended badly.
"Fullmetal," he said quietly. "I know it isn't fair of me to ask you to sit here and watch me do this. I know if it... if it kills me... I know I'll be leaving you here alone and that isn't right. But... this is our only shot, Fullmetal." His voice started to go thick, to shake and crack under desperation's weight, and he put a hand on Ed's again to grip it tightly. "If this doesn't work, there is no other way. Do you understand me? I have to try. If this is our one chance to get home then I have to take it!"
"Then let me go with you!" He gripped Roy's hand back and yanked him back away from the barrier with it, just those few inches inbetween him and the doorway enough to terrify him. "If it really ends here, then we go together, bastard. None of this alone bullshit. We go together." And his voice was strong and steady, but god he didn't know how or why- because this frightened him beyond anything ever before. He didn't want to die. As horrific as it was here... as synonymous with hell as it was... as much as he hated it... he didn't want to die.
He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to find Al, and for Roy to find his blue. He wanted to see the sun again, to go god dammed clothes shopping with this moron next to him and show him the countryside he dreamed of and see the people he knew Roy would remember and go home.
But if he could not do that, then... then he would take this.
Dying with Roy, and not sitting back to watch him die alone, and be left behind.
Roy shut his eyes for a brief moment, cold arm perfectly still under Ed's. His features were drawn and shadowed, shoulders slumped with sorrow and regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered, dark eyes still shut. "I'm sorry. But if you're with me, I can't do it."
The quiet confession rang sickly on the air, and Roy bowed his head. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter in contrition, apology, fingers suddenly trembling. "If you're with me... Fullmetal, I can't cross that line knowing I might be condemning you to die as I do it." He swallowed, throat jumping, driving gaze lifting to stare at him past his hair to ground him in place with its sincerity. "I'm sorry. I know it's ridiculous and unfair of me to ever ask this of you. If we can't cross that line, then we're dead either way... and dying now is better than waiting to do it at their hands. I know it's not fair for me to ask you to watch me die. ...But I can't do this if you're with me. I'm sorry, Fullmetal. But I can't."
Very deliberately, Roy removed his arm from Ed's grip and turned, rising to his feet to face the barrier alone. "Please," he whispered, eyes shut again. "Promise me you won't follow until I say it's okay. Promise me. ...I don't want you to follow me into hell, Fullmetal."
He was shaking, Ed realized.
Terrified to death at the idea of him crossing that line to die with him.
He closed his own eyes as well, and dropped miserably back against the wall in silent defeat.
There was no other way.
Very hesitantly, Ed reached over to touch his hand. He couldn't look at him, innately sick and terrified that this would be the last time. He struggled to clear his throat, the growing tightness there desperately trying to keep him silent. "You know that if this doesn't work, I'm dead anyway, bastard."
The quiet, strangled sort of mumble that answered him was barely a yes, but he took it anyway. Anguished as it was, he doubted Roy had the words to answer him. "If... if this kills you..." Agony stole his breath away and he clenched his eyes shut, biting his tongue until he could speak again. "I'll go down fighting. I'll take as many of them with me as I can. I swear."
It wasn't a question of revenge. It wasn't a question of justice, because for what those monsters had done to them there was none.
It was simply that if Ed was going to sit here, and watch Roy die... if his Al, and Roy's blue, really were to be taken from them, forever...
I won't let this end peacefully. It won't end peacefully for us, and I won't let it for them.
I'll see them suffer, before it's done.
I'll make them suffer for Roy.
Roy simply smiled.
"Give them hell for me, Fullmetal," he murmured.
Then, he was facing the line again, and Ed with him: one, ready to march to his death, the other, steeling himself to watch the only thing he had in this world die.
"See you on the other side," Roy said quietly to him, "...one way or the other."
He stepped over the line.