Chapter 8 is here! And we're nearing the end of this arc! The poor guys. I really torture them this time. Sorry for the horrible cliffhanger ending! I'll try to get Chapter 9 up soon, but I killed my hand coming home from Thanksgiving yesterday, so it might be a while again. Typing is currently...slightly difficult. And no insurance til the first. Lovely. XD

And due to sexual situations and thoughts that can get slightly graphic, this chapter is rated R I think. Sorry!

Thank you to everyone who has favorited or watched this story! And especially thank you to everyone who commented: Sisyphean Effort, thunder arrow alchemist, Amethyst-eyed Koneko, TheOneYouCallWe, Atsuko Uehara, and happie2bme! Sorry for the long wait! Hopefully now that I'm moved back to the States, the wait won't be so long again!

Also, sorry about the abrupt change between POV last chapter. I kinda forgot that takes out line breaks. *grumbles at * XD

As always, enjoy! I've only given it a superficial edit due to my hand, so if you note anything odd, please tell me!

Chapter 8

Ed stared at the sunlight that slanted through the frosted window of their room's en suite bathroom. He blinked a couple times, his mind unable to comprehend what it was seeing at first. A huge wall of sleepiness and dull pain stood between his sight and his brain. Eventually, though, comprehension forced its way through the mental sludge to establish a connection.

It was morning.

He had just spent all night in the bathroom. On the cold, hard tile floor.

He shifted and groaned at the pain that shot through his lower body. He hadn't noticed it last night—hadn't noticed much of anything last night not related to his raging arousal burning him from the inside out—but the floor was absolutely freezing. His poor hips were frozen stiff from his time on the floor and the flesh parts of his legs weren't that much better off. The left one was numb, in fact.

Groaning again, Ed managed to shift his feet under him and push himself into a kneeling position. Holding onto the wall for support, he waited a moment to balance himself and then began slowly pushing up along the wall. His automail foot slipped suddenly on the tile, nearly sending him crashing into the toilet beside him. Ed caught the edge of the windowsill just in time to stop his splashing into the porcelain bowl, however. Cautiously, he finished pulling himself up and rested back against the window, his head against the glass.

Steadied now, he slowly, carefully stretched out his muscles, trying to relieve the stiffness, pain, and numbness that held his body in their frozen clutches. Ed rubbed at his hips, trying to massage the feeling back into them, and sighed as it began to work. Slowly, too slowly for Ed, his muscles began to relax and thaw. The pain increased for a moment, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out.

After a few minutes of this, Ed pushed off the wall and stumbled over to the sink counter. He leaned heavily on the fake marble top, feeling the chill run up his arms, and tried desperately to ignore the continuing screaming protests of his lower limbs. It was a battle not to scream now, but he distracted himself with remembering not to squeeze the counter so tightly that it broke under his automail. He did not want to even think about Mustang's explanation to the innkeeper for that.

Mustang…

Ed flinched at the memory of the night before and took a deep steadying breath. He had no idea what he'd been drugged with, but that stuff had been strong!

With a scowl, he glanced over at where he'd kicked his pants and underwear the night before. They were bunched up together, one inside the other. He'd been so frantic to get them off, to do what his body had been screaming for, that the pant legs were pulled through the legs of the black briefs.

Ed flushed slightly at the sight, remembering all too clearly the urgency that had driven him. He would usually tell Al about such a feat, turn it into an amusing story to distract them both at some point, but all Ed wanted to do was forget it now.

Forget the wild, furious heat that had burned through his veins, setting all his nerves on fire and making it nearly impossible to think. Nearly, but not quite.

Thoughts of Mustang—his taste, his touch, his voice—had haunted Ed, filled him, driven him to distraction as he'd frantically worked and touched and pumped him to completion. And then they'd prodded him on, stoked the furnace of his desires until he'd cum three more times. Ed had to marvel at how he'd managed that at all. Everything had been so frantic and heated. Even now, it seemed like a drunken memory, only real because he could feel it in his aches and see the evidence of it in the gobs of toilet paper and lotion bottles he'd used.

Whoever had done this, Ed was going to find them and kill them. Brutally. Slowly. Ruthlessly.

Just as soon as he could find the strength to pull on his pants again.

Ed looked at the door and swallowed. He'd faced down monsters and mad killers without flinching, but just the thought of seeing Mustang again made his stomach twist with terror and shame. How could he face him after what he'd done the night before? After what they'd both done?

He'd heard Mustang calling his name through the door. He knew that couldn't have been just his imagination. And knowing that they'd both been drugged with the aphrodisiac didn't make it any easier. He did not want to face Mustang again so soon.

But there was no helping it. He'd have to leave eventually. Would Mustang be angry? Or would he try to ignore it all?

Ed's stomach twisted itself in knots even as he hoped Mustang would simply ignore it all. That would make things so much easier.

Moving as swiftly as he could, Ed stumbled to the shower and turned it on. He let it warm for a few moments as he finished undressing himself and then stepped in under the gentle spray.

He stayed still for a few minutes, letting the heat beat his abused muscles and massage the aches from his body. Then he set about washing himself, determinedly keeping his thoughts on what he was doing. If he let his mind wander now, he'd never gain the distance he needed to face Mustang.

Even just restraining his thoughts was difficult, however, and Ed found himself having to concentrate hard on it.

Finally, he was clean, dry, and redressed in his clothes from the day before, but no more ready to face his commanding officer than he'd been before his shower. Ed faced the door like it was a dangerous chimera and took a deep, fortifying breath. He reached out, turned the knob, and pushed the door open to reveal Mustang just on the other side.

Wide dark eyes met Ed's and his lips parted in a look of deep shock. The shock quickly melted away into an expression of utter uncertainty that lasted only a moment before the usual mask fell into place over Mustang's handsome features.

Strangely, Ed found himself missing the evidence of Mustang's humanity. The other man looked even more attractive than usual when he allowed his emotions to show through.

Wait. Attractive? Handsome?

It was then that Ed found his gaze roving over the other man. He took in Mustang's hard physique, which somehow only looked better with the slight softness years of working behind a desk had leant his sharp-edged planes; pale yet radiant skin; surprisingly soft lips that Ed could still feel ghosting over his own; and eyes that Ed somehow found himself willingly, gleefully falling into.

Ed tried to pull himself back, but it was no use. He was hypnotized by their glittering azure depths.

Mustang didn't appear to have any problems, however. He pulled his eyes away and stared at the wall beside Ed's head, letting Ed from the spell he'd fallen under.

"Are you alright?" The question was softly spoken in a voice that cracked with stress and weariness. "I was just coming to see what had happened to you. I was worried you'd fallen in."

The joke was a sad attempt at their usual banter, and Ed simply didn't feel up to getting angry over it. Instead, he shrugged, moving out of the way.

"I'm fine. Bathroom's yours."

Mustang gave a curt nod and moved quickly inside. The door shut with a hard click that left Ed in no doubt how much Mustang must have needed inside. The man had probably been holding it all night.

At long last, Ed managed a small smile at Mustang's misfortune and set to changing into a clean set of clothes. Studiously, he kept his mind off of Mustang and on what he was doing. He picked out his clothes and pulled them on far more carefully than he ever had before, though he found himself wishing for his customary leather pants. He wasn't allowed them here. His automail arm might be known, but they had wanted to keep his leg a secret. The cotton was a poor second to the durability of leather for automail, but he had managed somehow. He would never view someone wearing loose pants the same way again, though.

Next, he redid his hair. Ed wasn't normally so fussy, not really caring if his activities had mussed it, but today he did it anyway, simply to keep himself occupied. Plus, this would help it dry just that much faster.

He brushed it again, noticing for the first time just how very long it had become. It was halfway down his back now! Then he pulled it into a high ponytail, taking care not to allow for any bumps to be left.

He had saved his socks and the glove for his automail hand for last, but now Ed pulled them on before sitting back on the sofa, wondering what he could do next. There was nothing, and his mind, caged for too long, finally broke free.

What exactly had happened yesterday? They'd been drugged yet again, but how exactly had things spiraled so out of control?

Everything had gone as usual for them during the day. He and Mustang had gone house hunting, which consisted more of chatting up their realtor, the town gossip, than actually considering any of the few apartments or houses the town had to offer. Every day, they talked with the chatty woman as they looked through each of the offerings and even revisited a few of them. The realtor, Mrs Emmaline Scott, didn't seem to mind their reluctance to make a choice, preferring to chat and tell them everything about the town. In fact, Ed suspected she was only a bigger town gossip than the mayor because of her love of talking. Not that it made her any less of a flirt. Only the mayor could rival her there.

Emmaline's flirtation, unlike the mayor's, was the harmless sort that actually made Ed laugh as he watched her and Mustang dance about each other. It was obvious neither of them were interested in the other in the least, so Ed didn't even bother pretending to be upset over it. Instead, he made it a joke he could tease Mustang about in the company of others, which always set the older man to scowling and everyone around them to chuckling knowingly.

Ed never let the thought that he was disturbed by the thought that Mustang would actually like to flirt with any of the women in town actually take root either. It was only annoyance or boredom that drove Ed to taunt Mustang whenever he seemed to be looking more closely at a woman. And perhaps it was only heartburn that tightened Ed's chest as well.

Yesterday had been the same as every other day for the past week. Mustang and Emmaline had somehow managed to flirt outrageously with each other while still managing to gossip when the conversation had turned to a local contractor who could build them a custom home of their own design since they didn't seem overly interested in anything the town already had to offer.

"No, no," Mustang laughed. "Ed is just being picky. In fact, I think the only thing he's not picky about is food. I'm convinced he'll eat anything if it'll hold still long enough."

Ed glared at him for that comment from where he was inspecting a fireplace while Emmaline laughed.

"Well, it's sometimes good to be picky."

"Yeah," Ed agreed, still glaring. "Besides, just because we're married doesn't mean we have to be tripping over each other all the time."

"I'm not the one given to spreading out, honey," Mustang countered. His grin left no one in doubt where he meant.

Emmaline chortled, seeming even more amused than she had been before. She gave Ed a knowing smile before she turned her large doe eyes back on Mustang.

"Well, now that he's got his man, and a hunk of one too, perhaps he's thinking of the future? A little one or two? We've a few very good adoption agencies willing to work with our citizens."

If it hadn't been for Mustang's gob-smacked look, Ed might have given himself away then. As it was, his brain skittered to a halt as he simultaneously noted that he liked that particular wide-eyed, open-mouthed look of surprise on Mustang's face and tried to process the idea of adopting children with Roy Mustang.

"Wha—" he finally managed after a moment. He was unable to voice anything more, his mind racing for a way to protest without looking suspicious.

"I'm sorry! I hadn't realized! Were you waiting for the right time to bring it up with him?" Emmaline looked between her, her eyes wide in an expression of true horror. She may be a gossip and a flirt, but Ed doubted there was a truly malicious bone in her body.

"Um…" Ed didn't know how to respond to that, so he let the flush he'd been fighting creep over his face. He found he couldn't meet Mustang's eyes, despite feeling them burning into him.

"Oh… I'm so sorry. So so sorry!" Emmaline looked quickly between them, wringing her hands.

"It's alright," Mustang finally said, his voice blank, controlled. "You couldn't have known."

Emmaline shook her head, her eyes shining suspiciously bright. "No! No, no, no! I shouldn't have! It's not an uncommon want! Why even John Tisdale does!" She paused a moment, then added, "Though, I think he wants to actually have the baby. If you know what I mean."

Ed's ears perked at that and he snapped his eyes up to stare at her. "What?"

"Really?" Mustang echoed him, traces of his colonel persona sneaking into his voice.

She continued on, seemingly oblivious as she continued her frantic apology. She had taken them back to the hotel then, still apologizing profusely all the way. Ed had no trouble imagining her apologizing every time she saw them for the rest of their stay in Tramston.

By the time they had arrived back at the hotel, it had been time for dinner. They had eaten before retreating upstairs to discuss the investigation. The discussion had quickly degenerated into an argument without much of anything being agreed on except waiting to continue when they could both speak to each other like the civilized men they were. Not that that had worked in the end.

Frowning, Ed flopped sideways onto the sofa, allowing his sore exhausted body to sink into the cushions.

An aphrodisiac in their food… In their usual dosing of the drug? It had to have been a strong dose as well, given how quickly their tempers had risen the night before. It also took something special to drive him into Roy Mustang's arms. And they were experimenting with making a chimera of both the male and female genders. Could this be someone with a purpose beyond simply being a sick perverted madman?

The memory of what Emmaline had revealed the day before floated back to him again. Sheriff Tisdale had seemed a bit too knowledgeable about alchemy, but Ed had put it off as the little bit most people knew and the lessons learned during a career in which he had undoubtedly chased a couple homicidal and criminally negligent alchemists. It wasn't too much to expect from an experienced sheriff. Ed had chased enough alchemists in small towns to know that—but could Tisdale possibly be one himself?

Roy—no, Mustang!—came out of the bathroom looking showered and better than he had before, but still about as bad as Ed felt. Dark circles curved under his eyes like smudged eyeliner, his face and lips were even paler than normal, and his shoulders held a slump to them that Ed didn't think he'd ever seen on the man before.

Ed breathed in, readying a comment, but then Roy's—Mustang's!—eyes met his. The words died in his throat as the universe contracted down to just the pair of them. Ed's heart began a frantic beat and the memory of the night before crowded into Ed's mind once again. Even from across the room, Ed could have sworn he felt the other's heat warming him as much as the memory of his recent desperate activities.

Neither of them moved. They both simply stared at the other as if pinned in place, immobile and entirely wrapped up in what they were feeling. And then, Mustang pulled his gaze away, leaving Ed free and somehow disappointed.

Growling angrily at himself, Ed looked away and twisted around to lie on his back, one arm slung over his eyes. He couldn't, wouldn't, look at Ro—Mustang. He simply wouldn't. It was too dangerous. Too embarrassing.

"We need to be more careful now," Mustang said, his voice rasping hoarsely out of his throat. "The timetable seems fast, but if these people hold to the normal chain of events, they will come after you today. Tomorrow at the latest."

Relief flooded through Ed, followed quickly by his muscles tensing in anticipation of the expected fight to come. He was in even more danger than usual now, but at least that meant everything was coming to an end. No more twisted guts. No more having to pretend to be someone he wasn't. No more being drugged. No more having to coo at a man Ed was sure was imagining a woman every time he cooed back. No more of—of this!

Ed just wanted everything to go back to its normal routine. The ones that didn't lead to dangerous thoughts and wishes that he should not be having.

And if Ed was honest with himself, he'd admit that it was those wishes and thoughts that scared him most of all. Because he hadn't left Central like that. It was something new and very unwelcome.

"So I'm bait then."

Silence answered Ed. It dragged on and on until it seemed to infiltrate his veins and dragged his arm from over his face. His eyes sought out Roy and found him staring into the unlit fireplace, his face a pensive mask of uncertainty.

"It'd be the smart thing to do," Roy said finally, his voice tight. "But we'd have to do it perfectly. Make him come out into our field so that we'd have the advantage. Even then, it would be evening things up. This is his town. He's probably been here all his life. I would have to plan it all down to the finest detail, and we don't have the time for that." Disgust at himself and their situation was clear in Roy's tone by the time he finished.

He clenched his fists and visibly bit back a snarl of frustration. "It's even possible he already knows who we are!"

"I don't think so. He'd have either killed us outright or left us alone if he knew who we are," Ed countered, sounding calmer than he felt. "Instead, he moved up the schedule. Time's running out, but I think it's only because he knows he's being investigated by the Army, not who's doing the investigation."

"Don't be so sure of that," Mustang said. He ran a hand absently through his hair. "He could simply be arrogant enough to think it won't matter or just be that desperate."

"So what do you suggest we do then?" Irritation turned Ed's question into a snarl, a scowl taking over his features as he finished.

"We call for back up and don't let him get a chance to come near you before they arrive."

Ed blinked at Mustang for a moment, and then burst into laughter. He rolled back onto his side and pushed himself up, still laughing as Mustang leveled his own glare on him.

"I thought the plan was to use me as bait? If we wait for the others now, we might lose our chance! Or scare him off," Ed argued incredulously. "Besides, we haven't managed to stop him dosing our food, how are we going to stop him coming for me before we're ready?"

Mustang gave him the icy glare usually reserved for when Ed's actions had caused him extra paperwork. This time, however, Ed noticed that his hands were clenched at his sides and his jaw muscles were tight as they worked at biting back his initial retort.

Swallowing, Ed forced himself to meet Mustang's glare with one of his own.

"So you want to be killed? You want him to catch you and experiment on you? He could do anything to you!"

"No, but I won't run away. There's nowhere to run. We don't even know who he is! Anything we do could just get me caught faster."

Ed could see the frustrated fury lighting Roy's eyes before he whirled around with a barely stifled growl and stalked over to the window.

"We should just let them take me. Give them an opportunity as you watch from a distance, and then—"

"No!" Mustang spun back around to face him again. "It's too risky! We don't know who it is or what exactly we're faced with. All we know are the results of their actions and a timeline they aren't even following anymore!" He pinned Ed beneath a hard stare. "I want to have back up and a plan before we do anything!"

"I—"

"No, Ed! I'm not arguing this with you! It's an order."

Ed stared in disbelief at Mustang, unsure if he was more angry at the order itself or more stunned at the icy tone in which it was delivered. He'd heard that tone before. It held a cold fury laden with the promise of ill-fortune that was usually reserved for only the stupidest recruits in Mustang's command after they'd severely screwed in only the dumbest and most spectacular of ways. Ed had never had it directed at him before, and he'd never heard it quite like this. This time it held an undercurrent of something else, something desperate, dangerous.

"We can use the mayor's phone," Mustang continued, sounding only slightly calmer and distracted. "Chances of him abandoning his work now when it's so close to the end are slim, so it doesn't matter if he knows or doesn't know. Hawkeye and Havoc can be here with reinforcements before midnight and then we can proceed from there."

Ed scowled at Mustang a little longer before flopping back across couch. "We have a few suspects in mind. Why don't you just arrest them and question them while we wait? It'll do about as much good."

"Stop behaving like a child, Edward," Mustang snapped. With long, quick strides, he snatched on his coat and pulled it on. "Come on. We need to call now, before we lose any more time."

"I'm not a kid." Ed shot his deadliest glare at Mustang and didn't move. "And I'm staying here. It's me he wants, so here should be the safest place until you get your brain back and take the most logical course of action."

Mustang glared at him a minute longer, looking like he'd like to throttle Ed, before he spun on his heel and marched to the door.

"Fine. I'll lock the door. Don't let anyone in. Don't even answer through the door!"

"I said I'm not a kid," Ed snarled, sitting up again with murder in his eyes.

The effect was lost on Mustang. He was already out the door and closing it firmly behind him. The lock clicked closed, and Ed growled in his own frustrated fury. Sweeping a hand out, he sent everything flying off the coffee table in front of him and one of his books flying across the room. It didn't help in the slightest.

He let himself fall back against the cushion with a groan.

When did the colonel get so—so—so stupid? So smothering and arrogant? He had always been an arrogant bastard, but now it was ten times worse! Could it only be the drug? Or was this his true self?

It wasn't like Ed was around the office enough to know. Normally he was halfway across the country from the man, not stuck in the same hotel room in the same tiny town in the middle of nowhere with him. Ed couldn't wait to put that distance between them again if Ro—Mustang was going to be like this!

Grabbing a pillow, Ed hid his face from the light and lay face down on the sofa. He might as well get some sleep. He was going to need it soon, whether Mustang liked it or not he suspected.

Ed let the many different arrays and formulas take over his mind, calming him until he could feel the creep of darkness making its way over him, pulling him down into sleep's warm embrace. Racing thoughts became still in the face of arrays and formulas that Ed let drift through his mind.

Suddenly, he shot back up with a curse. He'd forgotten to tell Roy about the sheriff and his husband!

He gave another growl of frustration as he cursed their tendency to fight. Why didn't he tell Roy this before? Why?

It hadn't been that long. Maybe he could still catch him… If not, he'd just come straight back. It could wait if it had to, but Ed just didn't like the idea of Roy running into the man without knowing.

He scrambled up and ran after Roy, stumbling and cursing the previous night again as he went.

Roy stormed down the hall to the top of the stairs, where he stopped and took a deep breath.

This was insane. Where was his calm? His composure had all but disappeared in little more than a week.

Slowly shaking his head, he let out his breath in a harsh sigh. Then he repeated his breathing exercise (deep breath, let it out, deep breath, let it out) again and again until his control was back in place. Only just barely, though, Roy knew. Perhaps the walk to the mayor's would help. Waiting wasn't going to help anything.

So why was he reluctant?

He swallowed another annoyed growl and swiftly made his way down the stairs and out of the hotel, not stopping even to talk to the innkeeper. Especially that nosey innkeeper, who had looked like he wanted to talk.

It was cloudy with the promise of rain thick in the air. He scowled angrily and marched down the street, not noticing much of anything along the way. A few people scurried out of his path, shaking their heads at his expression as he passed. By day's end, the rumor would be that the new couple had just had their first real fight, but for now they wisely kept out of his way.

He used the secret passage to the mayor's office out of mainly habit and didn't hesitate until the door had slammed shut behind him. Thankfully, only the mayor was there, slumped over his desk asleep.

Sparing himself a moment to berate himself of his indiscretion, he stomped loudly over to the mayor. The man hadn't stirred at the slamming of the door or the sound of Roy stomping, and he still didn't when Roy shook him roughly.

Roy let out another growl of irritation. He had neither the time nor the patience for this! He had to make this call and get back to Ed before the little trouble-maker stumbled over the killer without him.

Feeling an icy mask slip fully into place at the thought, Roy shook Cranning hard enough to knock him over. The man caught himself just in time, unfortunately so in Roy's opinion, and he jerked himself back into his seat, turning to stare in wide-eyed fright up at Roy as he scrambled to gather and hide the pictures covering his desk where he'd been sleeping.

"Wha—What? What are you doing here? I don't remember us agreeing to meet again so soon…" Cranning whimpered, his skin blanching pale white as he took in Roy's appearance.

Roy looked down at the pictures covering the man's desk. He hadn't been fast enough or good enough to hide all of them, and Roy could see that nearly all of those left out were of naked young men about Ed's age. In fact, aside from a few differences (that one's eyes…that one's nose and hairstyle…), a few of them actually looked like Ed. Roy felt his stomach turn and could taste the bile in his throat.

"W-Wh-Where's Ed? Didn't he—"

"None of your business," Roy snapped, just managing to control the wild rise of fury. He only wished he could still his churning stomach as well. "I need your phone. And you need to find a reason to have the sheriff meet you here tomorrow morning."

"Wh-Why? What do you want with him?"

Cranning reached for the phone and handed Roy the handset, his hand trembling slightly with obvious terror.

"You don't need to know. Now be quiet," Roy ordered, dialing for a secure line to Havoc.

He only needed to be civil to the man a little longer, he soothed himself, wishing his could simply click his fingers and cleanse the town of its resident pervert. Its resident murderer as well. Then Ed would be safe, the town would be safe, and life could go back to normal.

The phone only rang a couple times before Falman's monotone voice answered.

"They've targeted Ed," Roy said brusquely, not bothering with any kind of greeting. "They'll be coming for him either today or tomorrow. How soon can you be here?"

"There's already a team nearby," Falman answered, his tone clipped. None of Roy's team took well to one of their own being threatened, and Ed was definitely one of their own by now. "Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye and Captain Havoc are with them."

"Good. Tell them to meet me—"

The office door slammed open, sending a few of the mayor's pictures flying in the wind. Cranning grabbed for them, making Roy growl a warning to him in irritation.

Why hadn't he put those away already? Didn't he know there were more important things to do than look at dirty pictures?

Roy's finger itched again to snap and burn them. He stifled the urge and looked over to the door, meeting Cranning's secretary, Clara, with a glare. Both she and Falman spoke at the same time.

"Oh… This is where you were… I didn't—I mean, I wouldn't have—"

"Sir? Is everything alright?"

"You were looking for me," Roy said flatly, ignoring Falman for the moment. He moved the phone slightly so that he wasn't speaking directly into it.

"Um… No. I—"

Clara looked uncertainly at Cranning and then back at Roy, but now the uncertainty was giving way to pity. Roy felt his stomach churn before hollowing out.

"Ed."

It wasn't a question, but the woman nodded anyway.

"Brant, the innkeeper, said that he tried to catch you when you left, but he just missed you. So he said he'd just talk to you when you got back and went back to your room. But Brant thought he looked sore and kinda tired, so he got him a tray of food and some tea to bring up. And, you know, something to help with those kinda sores. But—"

She stopped suddenly, her words seeming to catch in her throat.

Roy knew what came next though. He had to confirm it, but he knew what came next. His eyes slid closed as if to block out the images of Ed, his body mutilated and bloody, dead on the couch he so loved to sprawl across. They came anyway.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he asked, "But?"

He heard her swallow hard.

"But—he wasn't there and the room was a mess with the door left open and bloody."