Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist and make no gain from this.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Awwww…Ya know, I really should feel guilty about all the pain I'm putting poor Scar through but…

Nah. He's a big, tough Ishbalan with god on his side so who am I kidding.

He comes chapter 3!

Chapter 3 – Skin and Bones

Light.

He was barely conscious but for a brief moment his whole being was consumed by nothing but brilliant, blinding light. It burned his eyes even behind the closed lids and for a few terrifying seconds he was aware of noise around him – like electricity crackling against the ground – it frightened him.

Tensing, he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, wanting nothing more than to curl himself inwards in an attempt to block out the horrible sound but found his body frozen in place – unable to move.

A strange, burning sensation crept across his skin, permeating through to the muscles beneath. It started in his lower extremities and made its way slowly up his spine and into his already aching head.

Taking in a deep breath against the slowly intensifying pain he tried to focus and get his bearings.

The air around him was burnt – the faint smell of brimstone and smoke filled his nose, making his eyes to water despite being tightly closed and he coughed harshly as smoke caught in his throat.

The pain in his body was becoming unbearable – his muscles were on fire, every nerve ending felt like it had been torn in two – but he kept his eyes firmly shut and after what felt like an eternity, the pain finally began to ease.

But as the pain receded, a bone deep exhaustion set in and he could feel himself drifting again but couldn't bring himself to fight the blissful darkness so he allowed his tired mind to slip back into sweet oblivion.

Scar had no idea how long he had been unconscious. Time just seemed to slip by but he distinctly remembered waking up – back on the floor of his cell with Tucker standing over him. The chimera had an eerie smile on its face and its lips were moving – apparently Tucker was speaking to him but Scar was too far out-of-it to understand the words so he settled for staring dazedly at the former State Alchemist through half-lidded eyes.

Allowing his mind to drift through the haze, he was vaguely aware when Tucker came to check on him periodically.

The alchemist would roll him gently onto his back before lifting one heavy eyelid, checking his reaction with a penlight.

Other times he would give him water – allowing the Scar to sip carefully from the glass while Tucker supported him with careful an arm around his back.

Then there were times when the chimera would just sit next to him on the stone floor – stroking his back and hair and whispering in a gentle tone meant to soothe away worries and fears.

It was these visits he hated the most.

For they made him feel a sick and involuntary sense of sympathy for the man in that, once – a long time ago – Tucker had probably been a loving, caring husband and father, who would have done anything for his family….

…..and Scar didn't want to have to feel anything but hatred and disgust for the man-turned-monster.

The next time Scar awoke his head felt clearer – not completely but certainly a lot less hazy than before.

He found himself laying face-down on the cell floor he was startled at the feel softness beneath his cheek and cautiously cracked open an eye to reveal a sea of soft and, slightly fuzzy, dark blue.

A blanket. …what?

It was thick and…woollen and…warm!

He didn't know how long he had been laying on the floor in the freezing cell but it was long enough for his hands and feet to go completely numb, and for most of his muscles to cease as they tried to conserve what little body heat he had.

But the blanket felt wonderful against chilled skin and he realised – with a sick grimace – that he actually felt grateful to the former State Alchemist for giving it to him.

Crimson eyes opening fully, he carefully tilted his head up to look out through the bars, seeing if Tucker was still in the room but – mercifully – he was alone for the time being.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly before trying to push himself up – rolling hesitantly onto his side before using both arms to force himself up, onto his knees. Gritting his teeth – he expected to feel pain from the sudden movement – but instead, all he felt was a dull, burning ache along the length of his body – like his muscles were still trying to recover from being stretched too far, too quickly.

He steadied himself carefully and once he was convinced that he was not going to fall flat on his face again, Scar sat back and stared down at his body nervously.

What had that….alchemist….that madman…done to him?

But glancing over his form he could not immediately see anything different or out of place. Pulling his sleeve up to the elbow, Scar inspected his right arm, running the fingers of his left hand gently over the distinctive markings of the tattoo – but they too remained unchanged.

And yet…he felt….different.

But Scar couldn't put his finger on it.

Reaching up to pull the sleeve back down to cover the tattoo, something moving caught his eye and he froze in shock.

Laying next to him on the floor, something long and white snaked its way around his knees, coming to rest lightly on the floor on his other side and disappearing back behind him.

Paralysed with fear, Scar stared at the thing on floor while images of all the deadly reptiles he had been taught to avoid in the desert as a child ran through his mind a mile a minute as he fought to identify it as being dangerous or not.

He was so caught up in concentration that when the 'thing' twitched suddenly it caused him to cry out in surprise. Half rising, Scar lurched sideways – intent on getting to his feet as he moved – but as he gathered his feet under him his knees buckled unexpectedly and he spilled to the floor in a flurry of limbs. Glancing over his shoulder Scar could still see the 'thing' rising up behind him and he kicked out in warning – but all this accomplished was to tangle the blanket around his feet, trapping him further.

He fought harder – knees scraping painfully against stone through the thin fabric of his clothes Scar dug his hands into the ground, fully intent heaving himself forward – away from the danger when suddenly – he stopped.

Eyes blinking widely, Scar stared at his hands in horror.

How could have not noticed it before.

His hands – clawed as they were, the fingers imbedded in shallow furrows on the stone floor – were covered in fine silvery-white hair. No…not hair…..fur! Glistening in the narrow light from the cell window, a downy fur stretched from just below the wrists, ending at the knuckles where fingers and thumb began.

Raising one hand cautiously he stroked his fingers over the wrist of his other hand with a kind of sick fascination, unable to process what was happening. Allowing his fingers to glide gently over the hand he discovered that the fur was surprisingly soft – and thick – becoming thinner once he reached his back of the hand, closer to the fingers and thumb.

So engrossed in the examination of the fur on his arms, Scar didn't notice the 'thing' again until it flopped down beside him with a light 'thump'.

Jumping in surprise he glanced nervously at it – only now taking the time to really look at it.

As he noted from before, it was white and long…very long, only now one end of the 'thing' rested next to his head where he could see it and that – it too – was covered in silvery fur, descending into a thicker tuft of white with a solid black tip at the very end.

Scar could barely contain the sick, terrifying feeling that settled in his stomach as he followed it with his eyes until it disappeared behind him.

He had a horrible feeling he knew where it ended.

Slowly, cautiously and not entirely sure he wanted to but needing to know – Scar reached out to lightly brush his fingers over the length of it and the sick terror gave way to open despair.

He could feel where his fingers stroked along the soft, silvery fur.

Swallowing thickly Scar peered cautiously over his right shoulder and fought back a sob.

The other end of the silvery appendage disappeared beneath his tunic and now that he was focused on it he could actually feel where it merged at the base of his spine…..a part of him.

Tears stung his eyes as he finally allowed the sob he had been barely holding back to escape only for it to be followed by another….and another.

A chimera…a freak…a monster…

…..Tucker had turned him into an abomination – just like the man himself.

Unable to contain his rage and his anguish Scar collapsed against the cold, stone floor – his entire frame shaking with grief.

He could never go back…he would never be normal again. It was bad enough that he was tainted by alchemy but now he was a…a…..product of it as well.

After what felt like a lifetime, his sobs quieted and his shaking eased to a slight tremble in his limbs.

Suddenly he was exhausted – so far beyond what his traumatised body and mind could withstand that he barely felt himself moving as he carefully picked the blanket from around his feet, laying it out flat on the stone floor before curling himself into it, tiredly.

He didn't want the alchemist to see him like this – crying and shaking like a leaf – broken by grief.

No.

He was strong and he was going to make Tucker pay for what he had done to him.

Eyes drifting shut, Scar swore that the next time he saw the chimera…he was going to kill him.

He got his chance soon enough.

The next time Tucker came to check on him – as soon as the chimera opened the cell door the enraged Ishbalan launched himself at him.

If Scar had been in a calmer frame of mind he probably would have thought it through more carefully. But he was so unbearably angry that all reason fled as soon as he heard the lock on the cell door click open.

He should have thought it through and realised belatedly that Tucker was as close to an expert on making chimeras as one could get and so wouldn't have any problem subduing a subject, should one of the beasts decide to attack him.

Right arm outstretched and aiming for the chimeras' head, Scar was just inches away when a hand shot out and gripped his wrist, yanking his arm down and away from its intended target while keeping a firm hold of the limb.

With his right wrist captured in the alchemists' crushing grip, it left the rest of Scar's body wide open and vulnerable to attack and Tucker did not hesitate for a second. Grip tightening around the wrist in his hand Tucker easily slid the needle concealed in his other hand into the stunned Ishbalan's exposed left shoulder.

Scar didn't have time to think as the drug entered his system, making his knees weak and his thoughts hazy. The same feeling he had when he first woke up in the cell.

Tossing the Ishbalan back onto the floor like a dog, Tucker smiled in amusement.

'Well now…I thought we were making progress but it looks like a little more training is needed.'

Scar lay where he landed, heavily on his front. Unable to move and barely able to think, he could only watch with fearful eyes as Tucker knelt down and leaned over his back, above him. When he saw the alchemist reach for his throat over his shoulders, he closed his eyes tightly and pressed himself into the floor.

Was Tucker going to kill him?

A part of him – deep within his aching soul – wished Tucker would just kill him and end his pain. But the chimera only touched him to thread something under his chin and around his throat before getting up and heading back over to the cell door.

Opening his eyes slowly, Scar watched Tucker lock the door behind him before turning and smiling that same sad smile as before.

'You have no idea how distressing it is to see someone like yourself in a cage. Perhaps, in time, you will come to accept the perfection I've given you and show you appreciation by doing as I ask.' With that, Tucker left.

If he could, Scar would have spat at the former State Alchemist.

Perfection?

Alchemy didn't create perfection – that was God's work. Alchemy only twisted and mutilated things from their original form into something unnatural and grotesque…..like him.

His still shuddered whenever he thought about the alchemy that changed him. The unnatural energy slithering over his skin and shaping his body into something so…so…..wrong.

A rumbling sound reached his ears and he startled, surprised when he realised that the noise reverberating soft around the cell was coming from him.

When did I start growling? He wondered vaguely but his mind was slowly giving out and his eyes slid shut and he slipped into unconsciousness once again.

After his attack, Tucker kept him dosed constantly – never allowing Scar to wake up with a clear head.

Unfortunately this also left the Ishbalan barely able to move and whenever he did have to move it was a tremendous struggle that always left him feeling exhausted and shaky.

Tucker checked in on him from time-to-time – bringing him food and water. Although Scar accepted the water, he hardly touched the food that was offered to him. Initially unable to stomach food due to the drug in his system, Tucker had lowered the dosage slightly, but now the Ishbalan found the whole idea of food unappealing.

Maybe if he starved himself to death Tucker would leave him alone.

His declining health hadn't gone unnoticed either.

Every evening after injecting him with the drug, Tucker would attach an IV to his arm and sit with him and gently stroke his hair until the contents of the bag was completely absorbed into his body.

Scar knew Tucker was only delaying the inevitable and to add to the alchemists' concerns, Scar developed a slight fever along with an increasingly bad cough – probably brought on from being constantly cold in his damp cell every night.

The ache in his body was a constant now. Although he was unsure whether it was from the transmutation or his illness but he longed to just sleep….and never wake up.

In was during one of these fuzzy moments, after receiving his evening dose, that Scar was shaken awake by a loud explosion followed by muffled yelling somewhere outside.

Where he lay, resting on his side, Scar raised his head as much as his pained body would allow – which was barely off the floor. Curious, he strained to hear what was being yelled but his head was just too clouded after the dose, so let it drop back onto the blanket.

Blinking tiredly, he could hear more yelling only this time it was much closer.

Another explosion and suddenly…..silence.

With the silence returned Scar felt himself drifting off to sleep and was only vaguely aware when the door of the room outside opened.

TBC…..

Well, that's Chapter 3 done.