Al, as always, entered Roy Mustang's office first thing in the morning. Roy couldn't help but sigh. It wasn't that he didn't want to see the kid—actually, he and Alphonse had gotten fairly close during the search—but that every morning Alphonse asked the same question.
"Any news of Ed, Colonel?"
And as always, Roy had to tell him, "No, sorry Al, there hasn't been anything yet today…"
Just like he had every morning for the past three months. And just like every other morning, Alphonse walked out of his office without another word, hiding his eyes from Roy.
Roy ran a hand over his face. He knew the disappearance of his brother had been tough for Al, especially considering he had gotten his body back the same day Edward vanished. The kid was worried that maybe, just maybe, Ed had given himself up for his body.
Roy didn't believe that, somehow. The Fullmetal Alchemist could have sacrificed himself long ago; why would he decide to do so that particular night? No, Edward was out there somewhere, Roy was certain of it. Not that they had found even the slightest hint of his presence, despite going so far as putting out public bulletins asking for information.
Roy groaned. The investigation had been hard on him, too. Despite acting like a real ass most of the time, he genuinely cared for every member of his team, Ed included. Roy never thought he would miss taunting the short alchemist and listening to him rant so much as he did now.
The phone rang, causing Roy to sigh in exasperation. He picked up the phone. "Colonel Mustang."
A heavy, slurred voice answered him. "'S'this where'm s'posed to call for that missin kid? Blondie?"
Roy sat up straight in his chair, almost dropping the phone in surprise. "Yes, do you know anything?"
"Saw him m'self not ten minutes 'go. Not close up, but through a wind'w. Shady lookin house 'round the outskirts of Central, nearby all them pubs…"
Working hard to control his breathing, Roy pushed for more. "Yes, I know the area, continue."
"'nyway, I don' know nothin' personally, but I hear that place's a whorehouse. Saw him in there jus' before a man close' the curtains. I don' think he wassa customer." The man hung up.
Roy's heart sunk to the floor and below. Should he get his hopes up, Al's hopes up, on the word of a man who was clearly drunk? Or, should he consider the worse alternative: that Edward was indeed in that house…being used.
Clenching his teeth, Roy headed out the door to gather his team. Prostitution wasn't something he worried about, exactly, as long as the man or woman was selling him- or herself. And Ed, the famous Fullmetal Alchemist, wouldn't do that.
So it must be against his will.
"Lieutenant Hawkeye! I want guns, fully loaded, and extra rounds for everyone. Falman, call up some extra troops. Everyone else, that includes you, Alphonse, prepare for a raid. We got us a whorehouse, with probable captives being held and abused…and a possible sighting of Fullmetal."
Everyone stood stock still for a moment, disbelief on their faces. After so long without hearing anything about Ed, how could this be possible?
"Move!" Roy barked. His team leaped into action.
In the car on the way across Central, Roy filled everyone in on the rules. "This is a rescue mission. Primary target is Edward Elric, whom I will be retrieving myself. Do not engage him; if he's been through what we think he has, he might be violent. Got that?" Affirmatives came across the radio. "Good. Anyone else who is being harmed, take them out too. Anyone participating in sexual assault is to be arrested immediately. If someone draws a weapon on you, or attacks you, you may use self defense and kill if necessary."
They pulled up down the street from the target building. "Clear?" Roy asked, preparing to exit.
"Clear!" came the responding radio shout. They went in.
Chaos ensued immediately as the military kicked in the house's front door. In the front room, everyone was at least partially clothed, and Roy's reinforcements took care of that while he went to look in the rooms.
The man on the phone hadn't said what room Ed had been in, but Roy was focusing on those that had windows facing the street.
The first door he kicked in led to an empty room, and he exited hurriedly. The second door held only a victim, clutching her blankets in fear. Roy stated simply, "Someone will be up here shortly to assist you. You're going to be fine," and left.
Roy ran up a flight of stairs, and headed to his third room. He kicked in the door.
And there he was. Edward Elric, in the flesh, lying on the bed…
And being assaulted by a fat, naked man.
Roy held up his fingers, ready to snap. "Get the fuck off of him, asshole."
The man looked up, saw that Roy held no gun, and resumed his work. Enraged, barely holding himself in check, Roy snapped, causing a small burst of fire to head right for the man's crotch.
He screamed, falling to the floor.
Roy beckoned in reinforcements to handcuff him. He kicked the still-writhing man once. "That's what you deserve, dickhead."
With that, Roy turned to Ed.
The boy was, in short, pitiful. He lay there, gasping, with tears running down his cheeks though his eyes remained disturbingly vacant. He didn't bother to cover himself with the sheets on the bed he lay upon. Bruises and cuts littered his body, which had softened since he disappeared, and his automail arm was missing, having been yanked out without grace; rather than the port being wide open, tangled wires sprouted from it. One thing was for sure, he was not going to get violent any time soon.
"Oh, Ed…" Roy whispered, walking over to the bed. "Can you stand?"
Edward looked at him, fear in his eyes. Didn't he recognize Roy?
"Ed, it's me…I know, it's weird for me to call you that, unofficial for once, but it's still Roy. Colonel Mustang. Remember?"
Edward just fisted his remaining hand in the sheets, drawing his knees in feebly. The look of a scared animal remained on his face.
Roy, rather discouraged by these results, bent in to pick the blonde up; he clearly wasn't capable, whether mentally or physically, of moving himself. He placed his hands under Edward's back and knees.
"No!" the boy gasped, so suddenly that Roy almost dropped him. "No more," he moaned, straining away from Roy's body.
This was beginning to become a desperate situation. "Ed, I've got to get you out of here. And," he added, seeing the bloodstain on the bed where Edward had lain. "I know you can't walk right now."
"Don't touch me!" he half-shouted, following with a whimpered repeat of the sentiment.
"Ed," Roy murmured, walking out of the room. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe."
The boy in his arms snorted, a wet, pathetic sound that was probably supposed to impress Roy. "Say that every time, then I've got a dick up my ass." Edward began to sob. "Please no more, don't touch me, I don't like it…" he repeated this mantra down the stairs and out the building.
However, despite the fact that he clearly didn't want to be in Roy's arms (now covered with a spare, clean blanket), he didn't seem to want to leave either. When Roy tried to hand him off to a younger officer to be escorted to the hospital, Ed positively shrieked, "Don't you fucking touch me!" and shied away from the outstretched arms.
It seemed Edward at least preferred Roy's touch, perhaps because he did remember him. In that case, Roy would just have to take the alchemist to the hospital himself.