People pick up habits during wartime to deal with their stress. They may bite their nails, click their fingers or constantly reassemble their weapons. Jean has Envy
It felt odd being in the office.
Nothing had been touched. Nothing was missing, or added. The only difference was the name plaque on the desk had been changed.
The ghosts of the dead seemed to press down and around Jean, as his eyes wandered listlessly around the room. The room should have been blown up, or cut off from the Base. It felt incredibly wrong to be using a room that now rightfully belonged to a dead man.
Jean now walked with a permanent limp; some little shit had come at him with a dulled blade, and severed some ligaments in his leg. He had a walking stick, for when the pain got to unbearable. Jean knew he was no spring chicken, but with the added frown lines and knocks and now this from the war, he felt even older.
Some of his officers had said don't worry, sir. You just look refined/dignified or whatever other phrase that they choose to use. Jean wasn't an idiot.
Sighing, Jean sank down into the thick leather backed chair, swivelling around to face the wall length windows. A few sparrows were pecking around on the window sill. The hazy memory of Roy leaning over to throw down bread crumbs, then turning bright red when Jean had caught him. He'd then threatened to strip Jean off all his ranks if he didn't keep his mouth shut. Frankly, he didn't see what the big deal was at the time.
The light flooding into the office was blinding. Jean finally appreciated to why the office was set out like this. With the desk backing to the windows, the light from behind would illuminate whoever was behind the desk. It was symbolic really.
Jean rubbed at a scorch mark on the desk. This had been from when Edward had appealed to get some time off, then stolen off with Roy's paper work when he'd refused, which had caused the man to shot a spark at Edward. It had missed and hit the desk instead.
There came a tentative knock at the office door. "Yes?"
Kain put his head round, looking nervous. If the kid had been jumpy before, he was worse now. A whole year out on the battlefront hadn't done him much good. He snapped to a salute when Jean acknowledged his presence.
"At ease, Lieutenant," Jean despised all the formalities he had to go through. It felt stuffy and uncomfortable.
"Colonel, I brought these for you to fill out. The government still wants a full report on what happened to Major General Mustang. As you're the only living witness. The only other is dead," Jean couldn't help the weary look he put up, as he grasped the thick wads of paper from Kain.
Filling out the death notices were tiresome and painful.
They were going through hundreds per day. Jean had purposely put off doing Roy's, more for his own benefit than his family's.
He had written off Colonel Elric's as soon as they had touched back down to Central. He had even personally delivered it to Alphonse, something soldiers tried to avoid. He'd been greatly disturbed of Alphonse' lack of emotion, not that he wanted the kid to start throwing things across the room and scream bloody murder. Jean also didn't think very highly of the dog he had adopted either. He knew why he had got her; she resembled his lost brother in a way. Her small body, large golden eyes and red collar and she seemed to have this air about her, which Jean recognised as similar to Edward.
Jean didn't believe in reincarnation. It was just a coincidence.
Jean waved Kain away. As the door shut with a clunk, Jean sank tiredly back into the leather backed chair, throwing the papers away from him like it was a live grenade. He shut his eyes.
There had been so much blood.
He was very much aware of how much a person could bleed, but he didn't enjoy stabbing people through the neck to find out first hand. And the bullet had stuck in his jugular. There had been more blood than there was Roy.
And Edward.
Yes, Jean reopened his blue eyes, rubbing his brow in an irritated fashion. Edward didn't want that man to die that was for sure. He knew it was Edward's fault, as much as the kid did. At his grave, Edward had clung onto Jean, one of the last threads he had to hold onto saying over and over "I'm sorry I'm sorry!"
Jean's hand shook ever so slightly as he scribbled down the date, time and cause of death.
Jean slumped further down in his seat, instead if feeling better, he felt worse. Bingeing was the best way of saying WOE IS ME in the loudest voice possible. He downed the rest of his nursed drink, the bartender magically appearing to refill it. He muttered something about "Whoa there," and Jean only grumbled in answered, deciding they could treat him with respect of being a war veteran for once.
His thoughts wondered over to the other Elric boy.
He prodded his finger round the ring the cup has made. He hadn't seen the kid since he'd given him those letters. Jean himself hadn't looked at Edward's letters, deciding he was insane enough as it was. Maybe Alphonse had gone away. He was sure he had foster family somewhere.
Jean propped his arms up on the bar, resting his head on them, feeling pleasantly sleepy. The loud sounds around him acted as darkness, the warmth of bodies and open fire as a blanket.
"You okay sir?" the bartender asked, rubbing at the bar with a rag.
"Hm? Yeah. Just thinki-"
He broke off, glancing over his shoulder, feeling eyes on him. In the far corner, illuminated by the fire sat an adolescence surrounded by young men and women. The boy wore a dark traveller's cloak, blending with his long raven hair and in contrast to his pale skin. He glanced up, grinning at Jean.
Jean looked quickly away, eyes back on his hands, heart thudding quickly in his mouth.
He'd thought all of them had been killed-? But… well there you go. One would always slither through the ringer. Which one was he? He had one out of seven to get the name right.
The barstool next to him scratched on the hard wooden floor, indicating that someone had joined him in his salute to silence. His skin began to crawl unpleasantly, because that was just the sort of reaction these creatures sent out.
"Hello, Jean."
For some odd reason, the voice reminded him of listening to wind chimes. "Didn't know we where on first name basses," he decided on growling, casting a side ways look at the hooded boy.
"Well things get a lot easier when you don't have a last name," he soothed, leaning on one bent arm, staring intently at Jean.
Jean had always been a strong believer in the bubble theory.
You see, people have an invisible bubble around them, thus indicated where their personal space started and ended. Of course the boy didn't have much respect in the bubble theory, making Jean lean right back to stop him breathing down his neck.
Hybrid. Alien. Homunculus. Jean knew it would come back to him. Colonel Edward had had a picture of him tucked away in one of his many research books. The dark, spiky hair and headband had given it away. The shape shifter Envy.
Here where things got a little… hairy. Most people categorised these beings as Homunculi a human that's not a human, born from wicked thoughts, and the wrath of God. The seven Homunculi named after the Seven Deadly Sins. Yet true Homunculi have to be born through someone. These beings where created through someone's soul, with the use of the illusive, Philosopher's Stone.
Jean rubbed his head. It hurt just thinking about it.
Instead… "I hope I'm really drunk, or I fell down asleep in a gutter somewhere, because this can't be happening."
"Oh, don't be like that," Envy laughed, wrapping his knuckles on the bar, ordering for a drink. "One is normally at a bar to have some fun- but here you are all alone. Makes you think you might be missing someone."
"Like you woul-wuh-wuh…" Jean's voice seemed to whisper off to nothing, finally turning back round. He became aware of everything. Each sound, breath, bump of a body, and he was pretty sure there was something wet sliding down his thigh.
Staring at ghosts tended to make you freak a little.
"What?"
Then it was over. Envy's made Roy's lips smile cruelly. "You dropped your drink, Jean," ah. So that's why he was feeling wet.
"You sick fuck."
"Ouch. How can you say that to this face?" Envy purred, getting way to close than Jean would have liked.
"Clever of you. Putting on a face of a dead man in a bar," Jean decided to play it safe. Find out what he wanted. And try not to start crying, or hugging him, because that, was, not Roy.
"Amazing thing about bars. People get drunk. People do stupid things. People forget. Not you, Jean. You're going to remember this. Aren't you?" Roy's face smiled pleasantly, but Jean could see the cat like slits in his dark eyes, the small tip off that this man wasn't human.
"What do you want?" haven't I suffered enough? Does God want to damn me for the rest of my life? Why are you doing this to me?
"I want company. You see Jean, you and your fucking pack of military dogs killed my brothers and sisters," Envy hissed, placing a hand on his thigh. It wasn't a gesture of intimacy. It was a threat. Slowly, Jean watched his hand turn into claws. Envy wasn't stupid. He couldn't throw Jean across the room wearing Roy's face. Attract too much attention.
"Don't even start. You motherless scum don't even have feelings," Jean growled, keeping a very careful eye on that hand. One squeeze, and his femur would be crushed to oblivion.
"Gluttony cried Havoc," Envy snarled, obviously done with being friendly. "Cried when you're precious Mustang tore Lust into the ground. What does that tell you?"
"Tells me that Roy didn't do his job right."
"She could have paralysed you."
"Lucky for me she didn't. Why are you telling me this?"
Envy looked away, removing his hand and curling it around his mug, looking moody. Jean caught himself from almost smiling. That expression was so Roy.
"Because... I'm lonely, I guess," the sin admitted, and with Roy's hollow voice, Jean might have believed him. Might. "And I suppose you think it's a load of bull. Homunculi connect with their siblings. We share the same father as any human. The same blood. When one of us dies, or betrays us, it resonates with us very deeply."
"Envy, you're not going to change my mind," Jean sighed, draining the last of his drink, and stepped away from the bar.
"I could," he wheedled, stepping out into the street, following Jean. It was raining hard. Jean popped open the umbrella he had brought. He glanced back at Envy, who was slowly getting soaked through.
"What. Do. You. Want?"
It was so hard. Watching Envy use Roy's features like that. His black hair was plastered, and he was hunched like a beaten dog, onyx eyes pleading. It's not Roy, he kept telling himself. But just saying that was getting harder and harder to believe.
"Take me out."
"What. Like a date? Are you serious."
"To dinner. As mutual friends. For company. And because I'm not just doing it for myself. You need it to."
So he did. He'd taken the brat of a homunculus to the same place he and Roy had once gone too. It hadn't been prearranged. Both of them had been stood up by their dates, utterly devastated and embarrassed, Roy, like the gentleman he was, had taken Jean instead.
To be honest, Jean was rather fascinated with Envy. He could transform into anyone he had seen, he had the Philosopher's Stone running through his veins, there was so much to ask about him.
"Do you even have to eat?"
"No. My stomach can just be replenished by the Stone. But I enjoy it."
"You're wasting my money..."
For some odd reason, Envy would only use Roy's form whenever he was around Jean. Not that Jean minded, once he was over the shock, he enjoyed seeing Roy walking and talking like he'd never been shot in the first place.
But soon Jean started to realise it was becoming unhealthy. The more they meet up, the less of Envy Jean would see. Only Roy. And that was bad. If Envy asked him to do something, Jean would agree. He was so used to agreeing to whatever Roy told him to do. If Envy told Jean to throw a bomb into the middle of Central City, he probably would do it.
Envy was starting to stay more and more at his apartment. It was odd waking up in the morning to find a passed out Roy on the couch, hand dangling off one side and mouth open. Jean would walk over to him, and closely inspect the carbon copy.
He was perfect. Down to every cell in his body, you would think that this was the real article. Envy had even replicated his scent. He smelt of burning and hot ashes, after all, he was the Flame Alchemist. "Homunculus don't sleep. You can stop pretending now."
"Aw, you got me," Envy would laugh, winking open one eye, and pull Jean down in a lop side bear hug. Envy was way to open. Way to friendly and clingy. Way to Roy-ish.
Envy was a professional killer. He murdered children for fun. He started the Civil War with just one shot. He was a sin, and a bad one at that and Jean shouldn't have been messing with him.
But he was.
He couldn't help it.
As much as Envy was using Jean, Jean was just as guilty.
He wanted Envy to be Roy. He wanted to drown in him. He couldn't stop himself from wanting it. He was as bad as Envy when it came to using people. He was too far into his own hole, he couldn't start climbing out. Only dig deeper. Jean knew it was wrong. It was driving him crazy. He could picture Roy's dead spirit, hovering over Envy's shoulder, yelling at him to stop.
It wasn't just driving him into insanity. He was already there.
"Why'd you do it?" Jean wanted to know. His leg had been aching badly all day. He had finally collapsed down into the plush couch. Envy had followed suit, snuggling into his rib cage, book in hand. Jean had the vague idea that it was a book on Alchemy.
"What? You mean found you that day in the bar?" Envy guessed, flipping open a page and snorting at what he read. "Cuz I saw me in you. Both needing something. So here we are."
"Yeah. But it's not right."
"When is something ever right?" Envy challenged, rolling his dark eyes to peer up into Jean's. He put down the book. "You saw how the Elrics suffered through life. You would think the right thing God would do for them was to bless them with a happy ending. Chibi-san got shot, and Alphonse is going insane within himself. Nothing is God's will. We make our own paths in life."
"So even after all that hardship they went through, that still couldn't right the wrong? They learnt from their mistakes. Where's the Touka Kouka in that?"
"Equivalent Exchange," Envy translated. "What is Touka Kouka? Nothing. Just a fairy tale to tell Alchemists. Nothing is worth something else. Everything has its own value. Nothing can come close to replacing another life, or object for that matter."
"Like you, Envy," Jean said, smiling and brushing away his hair from his face. "So why are you trying so hard to replace Roy then?"
"Me? I'm not replacing Roy. You are."
"What?"
"Don't look so innocent. At first I used Mustang just to spite you. Then things started to get interesting. I can see it in your eyes, boy," Envy growled hungrily, lifting his hands and taking Jeans face and pulling him down. "-very greedy. You want him back so much, you're willing to replace him. Anything will do. Why not me? I'm game, it's my job to torment humans. But it's a two way thing. I get something from it too."
Jean tried to strain away, but Envy's grip was like lead. Roy's expression was horrible. His eyes were as silky as his voice. He was a monster waiting to burst out. "I could devour you whole if I wanted to. But I won't. I'm going to wait with you till the day you die. Haunting you. Letting you know he's never going to let you life peacefully. Oh, you'll try to kill yourself, but I won't let that happen. You're never going to escape from the guilt you feel."
Roy's face altered, and suddenly, a crack appeared in his forehead. Blood was spilling down his face, eyes growing sunken. A great hole opened up near his collar bone, exposing everything. Roy grinned through the blood, more blood running down his arms, staining his clothes. "Scream Jean."
He didn't. Instead he turned as white as a sheet, and threw up
END