Thank you all so, so much for reviewing! I know it's been a long while of cliffhangers of irredeemable angst, and we're not quite out of it yet, but the end is in sight! Last chapter was the last cliffhanger (for a while), and we finally fight our way out of angst to real emotional recovery next chapter. Just hang on until then! Enjoy! :D

The ambulance came not five minutes after Roy had, yet again, lost consciousness.

The only reason Ed and Roy were still there when it came was because Roy had passed out the moment Maes had started to shout at him, and Ed had never even woken up in the first place.

The only reason Maes hadn't hit Roy back was because Gracia had managed to stop him.

By the time the others got to the hospital, Maes had had more than enough time to think.

His best friend's staff arrived in a cascade, like bowling pins knocking each other down one after the other. First it was Falman, disheveled and looking as if he'd just rolled out of bed- something that hit a little too close to home at that moment, because Maes imagined he made a similar picture himself. "Fuery's at the office," were his first words. "Trying to get a hold of Al. I was going to stay with him, but you said we'd need a security detail…?"

Maes nodded briskly, not bothering to explain- that would wait until everyone else was here. "That's fine," he said tiredly, nodding again, "that's fine; we can make do with a man down for a little while…"

Alphonse, to the best of his knowledge, was currently somewhere near South City. He'd spent the first month in Central, but when lead after lead had fizzled out into nothing and he'd gotten less and less support from Central Command, the boy had left to search for his brother on his own.

Maes, as worried as he'd been, hadn't been able to blame him.

Given their current state of affairs, it had been a fight for Maes to get any manpower for his investigation at all. He'd known all along his superiors had only given him the okay since it was two of their top combat State Alchemists who'd gone missing, but even that support had been dwindling. Maes had still kept the investigation going, with Roy's staff along with him- but at a certain point, Al just hadn't been able to take sitting still waiting for military approval any longer.

He'd kept in touch. He'd called religiously, contacting them every three days without fail and letting them know every single change of location. It had broken Maes' heart to let him go- armor or not, that was still a thirteen year old boy he'd had to watch head off to search the country by himself, a boy he wanted to beg to just stay in his guest bedroom a little while longer, just be taken care of… but it was Ed's disappearance, that had done this to Al. Trying to trap him in Central when he could be out there looking for his brother would've done nothing but hurt him.

Needless to say, Maes was now immeasurably relieved to know he'd be headed back here soon to where he could keep an eye on him- yes, because it meant Ed and Roy were safe… but just for Al's sake, as well.

He couldn't imagine what these past weeks had been like for him.

Havoc and Breda had arrived next, just a minute or two after Falman yet somehow looking even less put together than him. Breda had completely lost the cavalry skirt while Havoc's jacket, all medals, bells, and whistles included, was inside out, but considering Maes had been lucky to make it out of his house with even his glasses, he found himself in no place to judge. "We're waiting for news," he said without preamble, raising a hand in exhausted greeting. "Shouldn't be much longer now."

The two soldiers glanced uneasily at each other, hesitating as they approached him. "You… found them, sir?"

"They found me." He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "…Somehow."

And that was another thing about this- another thing that Maes had a lot of trouble facing. If he was right, Ed and Roy had been held in a medical facility. If the bracelets he'd torn off their wrists had been accurate, they'd been in Central Hospital, for god's sake- not ten miles away from HQ. They'd also been very badly injured, and as much as he knew those two disliked hospitals, neither were stupid or crazy enough to run away from one while bleeding to death.

The only explanation was that they'd been running for their lives- and while he still wasn't sure why, they had run to him. They, or, at least Roy, had trusted him to keep them safe.

And he'd taken them straight back to a hospital.

Maes sighed, reminding himself once again that he'd had no choice, and settled back to wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

Hawkeye marched off the elevator, more put together than all of them combined, dangerous eyes flashing and arms folded with every measured step. "All appropriate officers have been notified, sir," she told him as a greeting, saluting despite the fact she was the only one in full uniform and it was four in the god damn morning. "I've held off on making an official report until we're sure no superior officer is involved in what's gone on here, like you requested."

Maes sighed in relief, slumping over in his chair again. Thank god for Hawkeye. "Thank you," he murmured, even as Havoc let out a startled exclamation next to him.

"How? We only beat you here by five minutes! How could you possibly have had the time to call any-"

"I brush my teeth in my car," she deadpanned, and Maes had given up a long time ago trying to decipher the truthfulness behind her dry humor. The lieutenant lowered her hand, still staring down at him with hard, unreadable eyes… and even without her asking, he knew now, what was expected of him.

Maes sighed reluctantly, shutting his eyes again.

No more avoiding it, then.

And so, with another long, miserable sigh, his eyes on the floor, Maes told them how he'd come to find Ed and Roy outside his apartment… and what had happened before the ambulance had gotten there.

Everything that had happened.

By the time he'd finished his hesitant, lurching recount, every soldier in the waiting room was staring at him, and Maes still hadn't managed to take his gaze up off the cracked floor.

"The colonel… hit her?" Havoc stammered at last, his voice breaking into a shocked, impossible silence. "He- he actually…"

There was another uncertain pause as Maes nodded, swallowing tightly. "He did," he murmured, clenching his fists in his lap.

"…Is Mrs. Hughes all right?" Hawkeye ventured cautiously. She was trying to hide it, but he could easily tell she was just as unpleasantly shocked as everyone else.

Maes nodded again, rubbing a faintly trembling hand over his face. "Yes. Shaken up, but… okay. I checked her for a concussion before leaving with the paramedics." He paused, grimacing darkly at the floor. It was a battle to force himself to even try to be impartial, but if he removed himself from the situation enough- Roy had barely touched her. Gracia had had a glancing red mark on the side of her forehead and that was it. From his considerable experience with fist fights, he doubted it'd even bruise that badly, and even checking for a concussion had probably been overkill.

Trying to be impartial, though, had been a failing effort doomed right from the start, when there was a mark on his wife.

He sighed heavily, glancing back up at the stunned soldiers sitting around him. "I had Gracia take Elicia; they'll be staying at her sister's for a little while. From what it looks like, Ed and Roy made it to my place on foot, and I don't want to risk whoever did this to them following their trail."

There was an uncomfortable silence again, the others all suddenly going to great lengths not to look at him, all fidgeting and twitching awkwardly, and Maes knew that hadn't really been what they'd been asking about.

He glanced away himself, swallowing the hot anger starting to rise in his throat for the tenth time this hour. Gracia had been more shaken up than physically bruised, and even that had been because it was Roy, not just from being hit. She'd been struck before by patients, admittedly rarely, and usually tantamount to accidents- people in the ER in a panic, patients delirious with fever or pain…

There was a big difference between that, and having someone she knew, was friends with, stand up, look at her, and just calmly punch her in the face.

Maes shut his eyes tightly, exhaling hard and fighting back the anger again. He had to calm down. It had to have been an accident. It had to have. He couldn't keep replaying what had happened in his mind, seeing Roy throw his fist forward and Gracia crumpling, over and over- he couldn't let himself keep seeing that, it was going to drive him mad-

"Colonel Mustang just… hit her? Just like that?" Hawkeye said weakly, her voice faltering. "I- why would he- why would he do such a thing?"

Maes clenched his fists again, forcing a long breath out to try and calm himself. It didn't even come closer to working. "I've been thinking about that, actually." In between trying to control himself from wanting to punch the son of a bitch right back, that was… "Roy's… I've known him for a long time. And, as nicely as I can say it, he's not above hitting a woman. If someone is a serious threat to him or someone he cares about and he's got no other choice- he won't think twice about what he has to do to get rid of that threat."

It was a product of how he'd grown up, he'd learned- constantly surrounded by older, confident women not afraid to throw a punch and who could take one, too, and that crazy aunt of his teaching him to protect himself first, be a gentleman second… it wasn't that Roy liked doing it, obviously, but if his hands were tied- well.

He'd fight his way out of it.

Maes' parents had taught him that if he ever laid a hand on a woman, his father would beat the tar out of him- and Roy's aunt had taught him not to pull a punch just because the person attacking him wore a dress instead of a suit. It was just that simple.

"But Mrs. Hughes wasn't a threat to him, sir-"

"My point exactly. …I saw how Roy was looking at us. Looking at her. And I…" He hesitated again, stomach twisting threateningly. "I've been thinking, and… I'm not so sure that he recognized us at all."

There was another uncertain, uncomfortable silence.

"He never called either of us by name," he went on, ticking the points off on his fingers but eyes still on the floor, not wanting to see the look on any of their faces as he spelled out the troubled conclusion he'd spent the last hour reluctantly coming to. "Ed wasn't conscious, I don't know about him- but I'm absolutely sure Roy never called either of us by name. And the way he was looking at us… the way he looked at Gracia, right before…" He shook his head in frustration, forcing his eyes up off the floor to look around at the others. "I honestly don't think he recognized either of us. They way he was acting- it wasn't because we startled him or anything, he honestly thought we were trying to hurt him. …Or, Ed, anyway," he corrected ruefully, sitting back with a grimace. Thinking back on it now, everything Roy had done that night had been to protect Ed- he wasn't sure his best friend had even cared, what happened to himself. Just Ed.

"But, Colonel Mustang walked to your apartment… didn't he?" Hawkeye asked uncertainly. She shifted, folding her arms tightly and still exuding an air of almost forced calm. "If he did that, then how- how could he not recognize you?"

"…I don't know. And- and like I said, I don't know any of this. Roy wasn't really trying to explain anything to us, and Ed wasn't talking at all, obviously; this is all wild conjecture on my part. But-" He shrugged unhappily, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head back against the wall. "But I'm almost positive they'd been in a hospital of some kind. They could've been drugged. And…" He hesitated again, biting his lip, then just gave an awkward cough and shook his head. "We'll see."

And I was watching Roy, when he hit Gracia.

That was the angriest, most frightened, that I think I've ever seen him.

And he was looking right at her.

Maes couldn't be sure what to make of that. But he knew, was certain, that things were much, much more than they seemed.

Finally, finally, at long last, Maes saw a doctor walking their way, files under his arm and the look of a man just getting off a far too long night shift. Maes recognized him as the doctor he'd spoken to earlier and got to his feet, gesturing for everyone else to do the same as he moved forward to meet him in the hallway and showed him his military ID. "You're finished treating Major Elric and Colonel Mustang?"

It took the doctor a few confused seconds longer to recognize Maes than it had taken Maes to recognize him. Even then, he still looked startled by the brusque, abrupt greeting and gave him a startled sort of nod, blinking at him as he rushed to get the files open. "I- y-yes, they-"

"Then talk while we walk, please. They both need to be under guard as soon as possible."

"I… right…" he stammered, obviously not used to working with military officers, and it took another moment to get him to turn around, leading them back in the requested direction. He shuffled with the files a moment longer, still plainly uneasy, then glanced at the hoard of soldiers following him. "You're all here for-"

"Yes," and this time, Maes wasn't the only one to answer. Their impatience was almost palpable, and the doctor seemed to feel it, too, wincing a little as he returned to the folders.

"We're not too sure what happened to either of them, to be honest. They both had second and third degree burns over most of their backs and had lost a lot of blood, but… I'd never seen anything like it." The man hesitated, glancing between them as he led them around a corner. "There's no way it was an accident. Do any of you know how it happened?"

Maes averted his eyes, swallowing hard. The memory of Ed and Roy's blood covered backs slammed into his mind again and he shakily shook his head, trying not to shiver. "We're hoping they might be able to shed some light on that themselves, actually," he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady.

He didn't know how he was going to keep calm, listening to Ed or Roy recount how they'd been horrifically burned to the point of nearly bleeding to death.

The doctor sighed himself, averting his eyes. "They ended up considerably lucky, Colonel Mustang even moreso. I don't think either will need skin grafts, and we've already started them on transfusions and they're responding as well as can be expected. There'll be some painful scarring, and we'll need to keep an eye out for infection, but… they should be okay." He glanced between them all again with a small, hopeful sort of smile, clearly used to the warm excitement and relief usually given to the bearers of good news.

There was another uncomfortable moment of silence, and Hawkeye cleared her throat.

Coughing, the doctor returned to the files, flipping on to another page. "Y-yes, well," he went on awkwardly. "The burns were really the most of it, for Major Elric. He lost a lot of blood but it's looking like we got to him in time. Colonel Mustang had similar wounds but is so much bigger than him, so the blood loss was much less of an issue with him…"

Once again, Maes exchanged a highly uncomfortable look with Hawkeye and the others, all of whom looked just as near stricken by the doctor's statement as he had been.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to laugh at a short joke about Ed again.

At last, squaring his jaw, Maes forced himself to just face forward again and nod, stone-faced, because what was important here was that they were alive, and everything else could be dealt with later. "Thank you," he said roughly, clearing his throat, forcing his voice to be steady.

"The colonel also had lots of other injuries- mostly superficial bruising, it looks like, but a few bruised ribs, too, and a particularly worrisome amount of fluid in his lungs. Since he doesn't seem to have have any infections or other risk factors that normally cause it, I'd guess from a recent drowning?" The doctor gave an uncertain shrug, still walking on down the hallway. "That can be dangerous, but we've done what we can for him for now; just supplemental oxygen therapy and wait and see."

Once again, Maes fought back a slow, angry swell of anger- and once again, he wasn't the only soldier present to do it.

He could guess, knowing something of what Ed and Roy had gone through, why Roy might've inhaled a bucket's worth of water. He could guess a whole litany of reasons why- and an accidental drowning was at the very bottom of the list.

That was one of the downsides, of taking these two to a private hospital. A military physician, one who was used to treating soldiers and would've already realized some of what they'd gone through, would've guessed waterboarding.

Again, Maes clenched his fists, breathing out hard, and considered just what he was going to do when he found these people responsible.

But, then, that also raised more questions than answers, didn't it? If that had happened to Roy, why not Ed? Why was Roy bruised but Ed wasn't? They had been held by the same people, clearly… had one been used as leverage against the other, maybe? He supposed it could be possible they'd been less aggressive against Ed; as young he was, seeing him as just a child, taking it easier on him… but if that was the case, then why had he been burned in the exact same manner as Roy?

Maes sighed unhappily, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. There were just too many details he didn't know, and too many unanswerable questions. If he wanted to find anything more about what they'd been through, he was just going to have to talk to them.

Clearing his throat, Maes quickly moved on, not wanting to dwell too much on potential waterboarding or whatever the hell else they had gone through. "What about… what about Roy's- hands, then? I saw them earlier, and…"

The soldiers around him all stiffened while the doctor gave another grave nod, returning his focus down to the papers in his hands. "Nothing was broken, despite what they looked like. He won't be able to really use them for a while, but it could be much worse, and I think it looked worse to you than it really is. One of his arms was broken, too, I'm not sure how old but definitely untreated before now. That's probably the worst of it, but we've got it in a cast and it should heal fine now."

Maes breathed a sigh of relief, nodding slowly. He still remembered how bad his hands had looked- still gritted his teeth against that momentary flash of anger because he knew every single injury had been intentional and he knew someone had done that to torture Roy. But this was good news. It could've been worse. All of this, so far, could've been worse. This was even potentially for the best; it sounded as if Roy wouldn't be able to use his gloves for at least a week or two, and given his current state of mind…

Well, Maes didn't feel too guilty, being relieved about that.

The doctor slowed down at last outside a set of rooms and warm relief grew in his chest again; finally, finally, they'd be able to see them- after months of whatever the hell they'd been through, they could finally be able to just go see and talk to Ed and Roy, and- and surely that would be it, wouldn't it? It made sense that Roy had been practically out of his mind before, but now that he'd been treated and wasn't in as much pain, now that he could see he was being protected here- that would all be different, right? He'd be able to just talk to him, and Roy could say who had done this to them and why, and then this would all be over. They'd be safe and that was that.

"All right," he announced gruffly. "Doctor, while they're here, security detail is top priority. Anyone who enters the room must have the proper credentials and be escorted by one of us; no exceptions." He glanced back at the others speculatively, rubbing at his tired eyes again. "Hawkeye, you're in charge of the security detail. Until we know who we can trust, though, no one but all of us and my staff can be involved. I'll take the heat when the brass finds out."

The sharpshooter nodded without hesitation, and the others all looked in perfect agreement right with her. Their priority was keeping Ed and Roy safe- everything else was borderline irrelevant to him, at this point.

He just wanted to talk to them…

Maes swallowed the growing, emotional lump in his throat and turned away from the others, facing the hospital rooms. He opened his mouth again, preparing to instruct the doctor further on how their cases were to be handled-

Then stopped dead.

"Wha…"

He stared, breath cut off into a painful, disbelieving gasp, and the entire world screeched to a nauseating halt around him.

"What did you do?!"

The doctor stopped uncomfortably as well, looking away. "I'm… sorry, sir… I never got to explain…" he mumbled, leaving room for the rest of the team to rush up behind him and see just what he was seeing.

Roy was wide awake.

And restrained.

"W-why- why did you do that to him?!" Maes spun furiously back around, horror and rage making his blood boil and his heart race, torn between flaying the doctor alive or rushing in there to his best friend's side. "Do you have any idea what he's been through?! You-"

"Sir, we didn't have a choice. He woke up in the ER and nothing we tried could calm him down-"

"So drug him!" Maes half-shouted, gasping. "Anything other than- than that-" God, he had to get in there; after what he'd already been through there was no excuse, it was unconscionable, he had to let him go now-

"You're not listening to me, sir, we tried; we gave him a sedative and it barely had any effect! There was nothing- sir-" The doctor sighed aggravatedly, shaking his head as he stepped back to address them all, spreading his hands. "Colonel Mustang regained consciousness in the ER. Before we were even able to get a sedative over to him, he'd knocked one of my nurses to the ground and was trying to run down the hallway- which, in his condition, is really not good for his health. After we tried and failed to sedate him, and before we managed to get him restrained, he kept on fighting us, and when he realized he couldn't get away, tried to stab himself with a scalpel. One of my nurses, we had to send home with a broken rib; another one is a floor below and admitted overnight with a concussion. Based off the number of black eyes that I saw, I'm lucky that's all we're dealing with. In addition, we tried countless times to speak to him and get him to understand we only wanted to help; Colonel Mustang gave zero indication he was ever interested in anything except getting us away from him. He's the definition of someone who constitutes a danger to himself and others." He paused darkly again, his heavy gaze moving between Maes and the others with no sign of willingness to give in in his eyes. "I understand he's been through something traumatic, and I'm more than willing to let you all try to get through to him- but for now, that's how he stays. For the safety of my staff.. for his own safety."

Maes stayed frozen by the doorway, heart in his throat. Roy had… all of that? Roy had-

Well, Roy had actually… punched… Gracia. Gracia, of all people. A few unknown nurses was, technically, far less surprising than his wife, but-

But… Roy had really… done that?

Oh, god, Roy, what happened to you?

"You can try another sedative, can't you?" Hawkeye asked worriedly from beside him. If he hadn't known her, it would've sounded steady, but he could hear the uncertain fear wavering in her words plain as day and see that same fear in her eyes.

The doctor shook his head, still frowning. "We tried. We gave him a low-dose one in the ER, and there just wasn't a noticeable effect. There were other drugs we could try, but they all suppress respiration; considering he's already got water in his lungs my focus has got to be on improving oxygen intake, not anything that might impede that."

Maes bit his lip, looking back at Roy again, heart aching to tear away into the room to find his own proof that everything the doctor had said was wrong, equally terrified that he'd find just the opposite. He wasn't about to argue with him; their priority had to be getting Ed and Roy as physically healthy as possible first. Everything else would come later. But, still, seeing him like that, knowing even as little as he did about what they'd been through…

"Why do you think the sedative before didn't work?" Hawkeye asked again, voice tight with worry. Maes again thanked god for her managing to stay cognizant when he still couldn't.

The doctor shook his head again, flipping the files shut and tucking them under his arm. "My guess? Usually, you'd see something like that in drug dependency cases. If he's previously abused something like sleeping pills or anti-anxiety pills, that could cause it. Heavy drinking could, too." He shrugged. "It limits how we can treat him, yes, but beyond that, it's not something to be worried about."

Maes exchanged an uncertain look with Hawkeye, shaking his head a little just as she did the same at him. He had no idea about Roy doing anything like that, ever, and neither did she. Roy had his past with drinking, sure, but that was years ago; once he'd managed to seriously commit to getting promoted, it had stopped, save for the occasional bad night or two. It didn't sound nearly like anything what the doctor was describing.

It did, however, lend some credence to his worries that Ed and Roy had been drugged.

"Well… well what about Ed?" Havoc put forth anxiously, a note of quiet, suppressed worry in his words. "Is he… like the Colonel?"

Finally, though, there was a piece of good news- the doctor shook his head reassuringly, and they all gave sighs of relief before he'd even started to talk. "We don't really have any insight into the Major's psychological state, at the moment. He still hasn't regained consciousness." At the look on all their faces then, he hastened to explain, "It's really to be expected- his wounds seemed similar to the colonel's, but he's got probably less than half his total blood volume. He was hit a lot harder than Colonel Mustang was."

Maes winced, glancing back at the others again. Cheers for small mercies, then…

Hawkeye cleared her throat, commanding their attention and dismissing the doctor all in one stare. "Considering everything we've heard now, I don't think we can let Edward wake up alone. I'm going to go coordinate with hospital security. In the meantime, Lieutenant Havoc, you wait in Edward's room, and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes-"

She broke off for just a moment, watching him, something uncertainly vulnerable in her eyes, but it didn't matter, because that was all he'd needed to hear. "Right away," he swore, anxiety cresting near the breaking point, heart already being torn in two between eager relief and something approaching terror as he yanked away to stride straight into his best friend's room.

Roy, as he'd seen outside, was wide awake.

And definitely not in the mood for an emotional reunion.

The instant Maes stepped through the door, Roy flinched, pulling away as much as he could. He tensed and all but growled at him, injured fists clenching, and two dark eyes landed right on him- so full of loathing they nearly took his breath away.

"You," Roy snarled.

Maes, still barely even halfway into the room, froze.

"H… hey," he stammered slowly, mouth dry. He forced himself further inside, one slow step after another until the door swung shut behind him, staring at Roy. He was on his side, Maes didn't know if it was because of the burns on his back or the cast on one arm, but it hardly made a difference in the end result; both arms were bound loosely to the left bedrail and from the set of the sheets, Maes could only guess his ankles were the same way.

He couldn't hurt himself or anyone else that way, but- but after what he'd been through-

"Roy, I'm sorry, I didn't know they'd- here, let me-"

"Fuck. You."

"I'm sorry," he said again, and he knew he should be talking to Roy right now, asking if he remembered him, asking if he was okay, asking if he'd stay still if he let him out of the restraints, but seeing him like that seemed to just turn his brain off and keep him walking forwards, hands held out helplessly and heart clenched in anguish. "Roy, just calm down, I'll-"

"What did you do to Ed?"

Maes stopped again, the cold hatred that shook in each and every word bringing him to a halt. God, if looks could kill…

"I- I didn't do anything, Roy," he managed at last, swallowing painfully. "Ed's been treated, and he's doing okay, not any worse than you- just in the-…" He broke off, suddenly uncertain. Given his… unbalanced… behavior- was telling him where Ed was really the best idea?

"He's nearby," he coughed, clenching his jaw. "Listen, buddy, I know you're upset-"

"I'm not your fucking friend," Roy hissed, jerking so hard in the restraints Maes jumped, nearly expecting him to tear them straight off the bedrail. "Listen here, and listen well. You already did this to me once, and not only did I break free, but I killed your guards while I did it. You can delude yourself all you like, but some day I'll do the same here, and if I cross paths with you, I'll kill you, too. And when I find Ed again, if you've hurt him?" Roy stared harder at him, cold anger blazing in his eyes so sincere it made Maes' heart nearly stop. "I will burn this fucking place to the ground."

Maes, again, found himself powerless to do anything but just stand there and stare back, his heart trapped in his throat.

There was nothing in Roy's eyes but that anguished, bloody hatred.

Nothing that he recognized in that face at all.

His earlier revelation came to him again, and this time, heart cold, Maes knew he had no other choice but to ask.

"Roy," he said carefully. He stopped, clenched his jaw, then just forced himself to meet those cold, furious eyes. "What's my name?"

His answer was immediate.

"I don't care what your name is!" Roy screamed, tensing and trying to curl all over again, eyes alight with madness and bleeding rage and anguish. "I don't care! Another nurse, a doctor, do you work for Justin- I don't care! You took us back here- we'd- w-we'd finally gotten out of here, we were going to go h-home, and… I'LL KILL YOU!" He lunged desperately, arms jerking out to grab at him but the straps held fast and he cried out again, rocking the narrow bed in his pitiful, impossible struggle. "I'll kill you! I'LL KILL YOU!"

He pulled at the straps once more, this time the motion one of hopeless defeat, and the rage contorting his face melted into nothing more than helpless misery. A loud, despairing noise came from his throat, a desperate cry muffled as he pressed his face into the pillow, slumping down, limbs falling limp- and Maes' heart just cracked.

He didn't know him. Roy was lying there, bound, injured, screaming, half-sobbing, pulling away from him but shouting death threats all the same-

And Roy didn't know him.

Roy didn't have the slightest idea who he was.

Maes slowly lowered his eyes to the floor, the sight of him suddenly too unbearable to even look at. His chest clenched and he raised a shaking, clammy hand to his mouth, mind racing with horror as his back hit the wall and his stomach churned. Roy didn't remember him at all.

He'd known Roy for over a decade. He and Roy had been friends since before he'd ever even met his wife, since before the war, since-

Roy was terrified of him, and there was absolutely nothing Maes could do about it, because his best friend had absolutely no idea who he was.

And if Roy can't remember me, then there's a chance that Ed might not, either.

Maes slumped even further back against the thin wall, his hands trembling worse.

He didn't know what had happened to them, and the more he was seeing about what they'd been through, the more he didn't want to find out.

"…what?"

Maes slowly lifted his gaze up, staring miserably back over at his best friend. Roy was still looking at him, piercing anguish and betrayal burning in his eyes, but- more uncertain than before… more afraid of him than before… and something in Maes' chest lurched again. "What?" he asked hoarsely back. If Roy was talking to him, if Roy was even willing to give him a chance, he had to jump on that as fast as possible.

But Roy continued to just stare at him, equal parts fear and confusion mingling in his gaze. "Well? What do you want? T-tell me- tell me what's going to happen! What you're going to do to us for escaping! Don't just-… are you just going to sit there?!"

Maes looked back at him, taken aback by just that horrible look on his face, that underlying pain in his voice. Roy didn't recognize him- and part of Maes couldn't even recognize him. As stubborn and angry and determined as he was, there was also vulnerability there, and fear, and hurt-

So much like Roy, and also, so much that he wasn't.

And there was nothing Maes could do to try and comfort him.

"…look," he said at last, and his voice was a lot weaker than he wanted to admit, even to himself. "I know you- you don't have any reason to… trust us, Roy. But we don't want to do anything to you, okay? You or Ed. You're safe now."

Maes hardly expected his words to have much success, though; Roy was too stubborn for his own good and in the current situation, he wasn't sure anything from him would get through to him. And sure enough, the impassioned words barely got more than a flinch in the cold anger consuming Roy's eyes, his injured hands still clenched in fists and body coiled like he was a second away from fleeing if he'd just had the freedom to do it.

"Right," Roy spat back. "Right." He jerked on the restraints again, glaring harder; the narrow bed groaned in protest but the straps held fast. "Because you've given me every reason to believe you."

"Roy, you tried to hurt people! You tried to hurt yourself- you punched my wife!" he cried, his own exhausted, fragile patience snapping in the face of Roy's violent, stubborn screaming. "I'm sorry, I'll let you go as soon as I can, but what would you have us do? Just let you go to sit back and watch as you burn the hospital down?" When there was no response, just more furious, hurt glaring, Maes sighed, dropping his hands down as he leaned back against the wall, lowering his gaze miserably to the floor. "We know you've been held in a hospital. We know it's not safe for you to be here. We're going to take you and Ed out of here and someplace safe as soon as possible, but right now you need treatment, and-"

"We don't need anything you're going to do to us!" He kicked and struggled again, less as if he was trying to get free and more as if he just couldn't bear to lie still any longer, straining to grasp freedom and fight back. "We're not sick! We know your treatments are lies! Do whatever you damn well want to us, we very clearly don't seem to be able to stop you- but don't you dare try and pretend it's for our own benefits anymore!"

Mae, the words still just on the tip of his tongue, went silent again. His eyes widened.

That reaction was probably the first real insight he'd gotten, into just what exactly it was Ed and Roy had gone through.

It hadn't been a hospital just for show, then. They'd been treated like patients… or, mistreated, as it was. And based off what he and Gracia had seen… psychiatric ward…

God, it was worse than he'd imagined. He and Hawkeye were going to have to talk about this as soon as possible, and not just about that one name Roy had dropped- Justin. As soon as- well, as soon as he could get himself to leave Roy here alone, which, looking at how terrified and injured he was now, might not happen any time soon.

This was going to make it even more difficult to get through to either of them as long as they were here. Hell, Maes was very quickly beginning to believe such a thing was impossible.

"…okay, Roy," he said gently, glancing hesitantly back in his direction, doing everything he could to not seem like a threat. Which wasn't much, since that was exactly how Roy was determined to see him as. "But you are physically injured. You know that. Remember, Ed was just as badly burned as you- you would've died if we hadn't done anything."

Roy's brow furrowed, his dark eyes narrowing and for a split second, Maes thought the quiet, sensible words had gotten through to him. But then, next second, he was pulling away again, shaking his head and straining against the straps again, face a near snarl. "N-no- he-"

"He needed help, Roy; you saw him, you know I'm not lying. I-" Maes broke off, sighing, trying to stay calm. He had to be very careful about how he went about this. "Just… just tell me what I can do, all right? I know you don't trust us yet, but- but if there's anything we can do to help, or, or if you want something, we'll-… we just want to help, Roy. Please…"

But it didn't look as if Roy was even letting himself consider it. Not the smallest possibility that Maes was anything but one of the people who'd hurt him. "Let me see Ed," Roy hissed, bandaged fists curling even tighter.

"I…" Maes groaned inwardly, his chest clenching miserably like he'd just been stabbed. He looked at Roy again, the bandages on his raw back, the fact that he was hurt enough that all he'd need to be pushed over the edge might just be one hard fall.

Knowing that he couldn't trust Roy right now not to take advantage of even one second of freedom, and bolt.

"Later, okay…?" he tried weakly. "You're hurt, too- I don't want to risk-"

"Now!"

"-and he's not even awake now, there's nothing-"

"Now!"

"-when you both feel better, I'll-"

"NOW!"

Maes fell uselessly silent again, staring over at Roy and once again feeling his hopes crash down around him.

There was nothing he could do. It was now very apparent Ed was the measuring stick Roy needed here, and anything short of being with him and being able to protect him was something Roy wouldn't allow himself to even consider. And knowing even the little that he did, Maes was positive that was too risky to try. For all he knew, Roy just wanted to find out where Ed was so he could pick him up and get him out of here, and while Maes knew he'd never make it past the forming security detail- that also wasn't the point, was it?

They were both badly injured, to the point that being tackled and forced to the ground would not only cause a great amount of pain, but could actually seriously hurt them. Roy, at least, was scared out of his mind, and Maes was growing more and more worried Ed would be the exact same way.

Being wrestled down to the floor and trapped on his face by a group of unyielding soldiers, in terrible pain, Ed being wrestled away from him, was probably not the best way to start to gain his trust.

"Roy," he said gently, trying to meet his fierce but terrified eyes again. "In a couple days, when you're a little better, we're going to get you and Ed out of here to somewhere safe- then, you can be with him as much as you want, okay?" It'd be hard, but he'd make it work, Maes determined. Once out of the hospital and there weren't innocent bystanders for Roy to potentially harm, once they could better control his surroundings to stop Roy from hurting himself- he'd make it work. Anything, if it helped his best friend feel safer. "But… I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous now. You could hurt yourself," or might purposefully even try to, "and I want to keep you safe. I'm sorry."

Maes braced himself then, curling almost imperceptibly against the wall as he waited for the anger and the resistance. He prepared himself for more shouted protests and fighting against the restraints and his best friend looking at him like he was a monster. Roy may not have known him right now, but he did know Roy, and he knew his best friend was going to take these words as just another nail on the coffin. As much as Maes wanted to get through to him now, to be able to untie him and be a friend for him when he needed it most…

This was just something that had to be done. As much as it hurt both of them to do it.

Roy, however, did not do any of those things.

The colonel looked at him blankly for several moments, exhausted and pained eyes still wide, face hostile and closed off- and then he, too, just slumped with a sigh, He closed his eyes, not in sleep but in a stubborn denial to even acknowledge his presence any further, falling as limp as he could with angry fatigue etched into his face- and that was that.

It wasn't the continued protests and screaming he'd been preparing himself for. It was worse.

He was giving up.

Maes' throat tightened, his hands shaking, and he found himself helpless to do anything more than just stare.

It was intensely saddening to wonder how many times Roy had been faced with this exact same scenario already that he'd already given up so easily, defeat clouding his drawn face, and he found himself faced with a mix of such sorrow and rage he didn't know whether to scream or to cry.

"…if you need anything," he sighed at last, "I'm- Maes. M-Maes Hughes." And I'm not going anywhere, he wanted to add after that- but it would be of no comfort to Roy, at the moment.

It was of no comfort to Maes, either, when his best friend just kept his eyes shut, and refused to acknowledge him with anything more.