"Uh… ngh…" Envy slowly opened his eyes, consciousness coming to him almost begrudgingly, like it wanted him to keep sleeping forever. Of course, one couldn't escape when one was unconscious, so he kept his eyes open and took a deep breath, wincing when the movement pulled on his wounds. "Haaa…" He tried to take another, more shallow breath, but it yielded similar results. "Hnn…"

What are they going to do with me?

It was the question that had kept him up most of the night, and his nightmares had been filled with the many possible answers. Those answers would force him awake and leave him alone in the dark to contemplate the question for a little while before finally allowing him to fall back into an uneasy sleep. That sleep led to another nightmare, and the cycle repeated.

Needless to say, it hadn't exactly been a restful night.

I can hardly keep my eyes open… Envy let out a sigh and looked over at the single window on his right, wondering how much of the day had already gone by. Not that he could do anything about it. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. So tired… so cold… He was grateful for the blanket he had been given, even if he would never admit it out loud, but it was thin and only came halfway up his chest. Not to mention the fact that he was practically naked, and he doubted the Flame Alchemist needed to keep his home heated on a regular basis.

Grunting, he slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows, twisting his body and stretching himself out as far as he could. It took a couple of tries, but he managed to bite down on the blanket, pulling it toward his upper body slowly. I don't want my feet to come out… but if I can just—

"Envy, are you aw—"

Envy and Mustang stared at each other, the former opening his mouth and letting the blanket fall back down to the mattress. Mustang looked him over silently, shaking his head after a moment or two of bewildered staring. Envy swallowed thickly, not moving a muscle and not allowing his eyes to leave Mustang for a second.

"You're still cold." It wasn't a question, but there was a certain tone of disbelief to it.

Envy nodded once, saying nothing, watching and waiting.

Frowning, Mustang walked over to the bed and slid his glove from his left hand. Envy held his breath, pushing back into the mattress when the colonel began to reach for his face. Mustang turned his arm and continued to close the gap until the back of his hand came to rest on Envy's forehead in a surprisingly unpainful way.

"Well, you aren't running a fever." Mustang glared down at him, retracting his hand and gloving it once more. "You've walked around in the snow with next to nothing on and seemed perfectly fine. Why are you cold now?"

Because I'm too weak. Envy didn't want to say that, though. Because you burned too much of the Philosopher's Stone out of me, and what I have left isn't enough to support me. He didn't want to say that, either. Because it's cold in here, and I'm almost naked, in case you forgot. He definitely didn't want to say that.

Well, he did, but it wouldn't be in his best interest.

"Don't answer, then. I'll just add it to the list of things to cover during your interrogation." Mustang began to undo the straps on Envy's wrists, continuing as though his words hadn't just sent a fresh wave of terror crashing down on his captive. "Get your ankles out, and then get dressed. Make it snappy."

Envy snorted, the ironic turn of phrase not at all lost on him, and then sat up to do as he was told. He reached down and wrestled with the straps keeping his legs in place, focusing solely on the task of releasing himself and refusing to acknowledge where he was going next.

"Here." Mustang extended a bundle of clothing toward him, and although Envy didn't see him get it, he was certain it was from the same drawer everything else had come from. "This is the kind of clothing you wear when you're cold. It actually covers your skin, so it's very effective."

Envy glared at him, snatching the articles away and sliding back on the mattress. He watched Mustang closely, eyes narrowing further still as he tried to decide just how far he could push his boundaries.

"I said make it snappy."

Envy heard the unspoken threat and quickly pulled the shirt down over his head, sticking his arms through the long sleeves before trying to stand up. He swayed, gripping the headboard for support, but managed to get the lounge pants on without asking for help.

Because he honestly didn't think his pride could handle that big of a blow.

Turning to face Mustang, Envy gauged the space between them and contemplated, if only for a moment, charging. It wouldn't work, considering the state he was in, but it was nice to think about.

"Hands." Mustang pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and waited for Envy to raise his arms before snapping a shiny bracelet onto each wrist. "Once we arrive in Central, you will be handed over to the intelligence department so they can gather information. I will retrieve you at the end of the day, after I've completed my work, and when I do, I will ask the personnel to rate your usefulness." If his eyes could have gotten any colder, they would have. "I will tell you right now that your usefulness is directly related to how long you'll stay alive. Do you understand?"

Envy grit his teeth and gave a single, slow nod, his stomach already churning in anticipation of the so-called 'information gathering' he was about to endure. It can't be worse than last night. Nothing can be worse than last night.

Mustang grabbed his shoulder and steered him towards the door, guiding him into the hallway, down the steps, and out the front door. There was a running car in the driveway, and Envy had to assume it was Hawkeye behind the wheel.

He's really not taking any chances, is he? It was a discouraging thought, and he quickly pushed it aside, though there weren't any trains of thought he could replace it with.

None that he liked, anyway.

Envy ducked his head and slid into the back seat, barely getting his foot in before Mustang slammed the door shut. There were a few seconds of awkward silence while Mustang walked around to get in on the other side, but soon he was giving orders, and the tension seemed to ease a little.

It's bright out here. Envy squinted through the glass. I think the window in my room had the curtains pulled shut. He reached up, rubbing both hands against his eyes. Still cold, too. So… side effects of being almost human? Or something going terribly wrong?

He didn't know, and he certainly didn't intend to ask for advice. If Colonel Mustang still thought he was at least somewhat indestructible, however painful that might be, it was still preferable to him knowing Envy had been weakened to the point of near humanity.

It wouldn't do any good anyways. It's not like I know my limits or what I can and can't do in this body. I wouldn't be able to tell him anything, and it would only put me at a disadvantage. I can't afford any more of those. Envy wet his lips and continued to stare out the window. I'll have to hope I can handle whatever they dish out today.

Hope. What a foolish notion. What a human concept.

But really, what else did he have?

Envy was breathing.

He couldn't tell if he had bones that weren't broken or organs that still worked. He couldn't tell if he was still in the interrogation room or somewhere completely different. He wasn't sure his limbs were still attached, and he didn't know if his right eye was just covered up or not working anymore, but he was breathing.

He was still breathing.

"Envy? Can you hear me?"

Chest heaving, he tried to gather enough energy to answer, but his voice died in his throat. It hurt so much. It hurt so much, and he didn't know who was talking, and he didn't know if they were going to hurt him for his failure to respond. It scared him.

I'm better than this. I'm better than this.

But his heart didn't seem to care, content to hammer against the inside of his ribcage with reckless abandon, and his brain was more than happy to supply his body with more of the chemicals necessary to induce a fight or flight response.

"Are you sure they said he was stable?"

"Yes. He's not in danger right now, just beat up."

Just. Just, as in only, simply, or merely.

Envy was just unable to do anything but lay on a bed and breathe and think. It was ironic, really, given the fact that his very source of life came from a mass of people who could never, ever do anything but think. He figured if he complained, somebody would tell him that at least he could still breathe. He had taken that right away from too many to receive sympathy for it now.

Mustang said my lifespan is determined by my usefulness. I don't remember much, but I know I gave them information in the end. I was too disoriented to lie, and too… too scared to try and resist any more.

"His eyes are open, at least."

"Yeah, but he looks pretty out of it."

It's funny… I always assumed because all of us had Philosopher's Stones, we would never be alone. Even if everyone else died off, there would still be the eight of us. But here I am. Envy managed to push his tongue out over his lips, running it along the bloody split before pulling it back in. He didn't like being alone. By definition, envy needed other people in order to exist. One couldn't be envious of nothing, and more than that, his siblings would share in his hate and his jealousy. Like all sins, he thrived when egged on by others.

He needed that. He wasn't made to be alone.

"Envy, look at me."

It was a familiar voice that jarred him out of his thoughts, his eyes flickering to the left and then the right and then the left again before finally landing on an ever-unreadable Colonel Mustang.

"Can you see me?"

Envy blinked. He could, but only out of his left eye.

"Envy, can you see me?" he repeated himself, speaking slowly.

Blinking again, Envy gave a jerky, somewhat sideways nod. He honestly didn't know how to answer the question, but it looked like the movement was satisfactory enough for Mustang, so he would leave it at that.

"Havoc, how long ago did they send him here?"

"It's been a couple hours. He needed quite a few stitches."

Envy let out a sigh and closed his eyes, assuming he no longer needed to engage in conversation. After all, he had no idea what had been done to him or what it meant, so there weren't any questions he could really answer.

"Envy, it's been more than a day since you were captured. Why hasn't your Stone been fixing your injuries?"

Envy cursed inwardly, opening his eyes again. He had to ask. Swallowing, he tried to come up with an answer that was both believable and untrue. Something close enough to the truth to convince them without pasting a 'kick me' sign on his back.

"It's…"

There was no good answer. He couldn't say it was malfunctioning or having a bad day. It had always worked automatically and immediately, and now it wasn't doing either. What could he possibly say that wouldn't sound absolutely ridiculous?

"Answer me. Now."

Clutching the sheets and staring at the ceiling, Envy started his slow, as vague as possible explanation. "Used too much."

"You used too much?" Mustang's voice was thick with disbelief. "How is that possible?"

"You humans have… fight or flight… right?" Envy swallowed, his throat raw from screaming. "Your body… automatically knows how to… get rid of stuff you don't need… so you can survive… my body is the same…" He wet his lips and swallowed again, taking a few shallow breaths. "It won't use the Stone… unless the injury is severe… because it knows it's running out…"

There was silence. Envy kept his eyes riveted to the ceiling, having no idea what Mustang would do with that information. He would most likely use it to draw out the torture as much as possible and preserve the Stone, but how he would do that, Envy had no idea.

"I see." Mustang leaned over the bed, his upper body entering Envy's peripherals. "That's why you're in such a sorry state."

"Don't look down on me, human!"

It came out before he could stop it, and Mustang was quick to react. Envy was quicker, seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye and flinching away instinctively. He realized two seconds too late that he had proven Mustang's point for him, and he cursed under his breath, heat rising in his cheeks.

I really am in a sorry state.

Mustang's hand hovered midair for a moment, and then it grabbed the sheet covering the battered body. Pulling it down to Envy's waist, he lifted the shirt and examined the injuries underneath. "You could have made this whole thing much easier, you know."

Envy didn't say anything, scratching at the sheets absentmindedly.

"It looks like most of the damage was superficial. You'll be spitting blood for a while, but you should be fine in a month or so." Mustang adjusted the blanket and straightened up. "Havoc, when the hospital releases him, I trust you can handle things?"

Havoc grunted his response.

"Good. I have work to do."

There were footsteps, and then it was just Envy and Havoc. Envy was alright with that. Havoc had left him alone until Mustang arrived, so he would probably do the same now that the colonel was gone, which meant Envy might actually get a chance to sleep.

I've never felt so tired in all my life. Envy yawned and pushed himself down into the mattress, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. If I'm lucky, the hospital will just keep me overnight… and I can just sleep all the way through until tomorrow.

Consciousness was fading quickly, leaving him only somewhat aware of what was going on around him, but he thought he felt someone touching his arms. They moved away, and then the hands came back down around his neck, fingers gently tucking the fabric in around him.

"Geeze. You look pitiful."

Don't… don't look down… on me…

And that was the last coherent thought he had.

"For the last time, be still."

Sighing, Envy tried to do as he was told, a smart comment about the level of pain he was in dancing on his tongue. Mustang shook his head disapprovingly, pulling the bandage a little tighter around Envy's torso and going over his shoulder one last time before tucking the end. Envy fidgeted as soon as Mustang's hands were gone, and even after three days in the hospital, he still wasn't used to the itchy sensation of the bandages.

"You might as well get used to them, especially if you intend to fight every single interrogation with that much ferocity." Mustang closed the first aid kit and carried it over to the cupboard, tucking it away. "Biting me was stupid, but biting someone who gets paid to cause you pain is on an entirely superior level of idiocy."

Envy glared at him but didn't say a word, not wanting to push his luck and wind up proving Mustang's point. Again.

"Do you need food?"

Envy blinked. Huh?

"It's a simple question. Do you need food?"

Envy looked down at himself, considering the idea. He couldn't recall the last time he had eaten, mostly because he had never needed food to survive before, but the thought of food had been less than appealing over the past… however long it had been since he was captured. His pain had been so constant and intense that, when he actually took the time to focus on anything but survival, nausea was the only thing his stomach wanted to tell him about.

"I don't know," he whispered, keeping his gaze beneath Mustang's waist.

He could practically hear the raised eyebrow in the officer's reply.

"Well, that isn't very helpful." Mustang stepped away from him, walking over to the counter and speaking over the sound of the items he was moving around. "I'll get you something small, and if you start to eat it and decide you can't, then you can't."

Nodding, Envy kept silent and stared down at the cuffed hands in his lap, idly picking at the fibers of his hospital scrubs. His body was still in a considerable amount of pain, but he wasn't as disoriented as he had been in the hospital, and he could see out of his right eye again, which was marginally comforting.

I want to go back to bed.

Unfortunately, he didn't want to go to bed enough to ask Mustang for permission, so he opted for lowering his head onto the table and closing his eyes instead. The cool surface of the wood felt good against his face, particularly the long line of stitches on his left cheek, and he allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"You called that… thing… your father. Were you truly like a family?"

Envy slowly lifted his head. "Hmm?"

"Were you like a family?" Mustang started with an irritated tone, but it quickly faded into something resembling softness. "Did you think of each other as brothers and sisters, or were those just names you used to describe each other?"

Envy wet his lips, clenching and unclenching his fists. "It was… different for each of us. Some were closer than others, and some weren't close at all." He paused, running his tongue over his lips again. "Your Fuhrer was hardly a member of the family, if that's what you're wondering."

Mustang shook his head, turning around with a small bowl in his hands and approaching the downtrodden homunculus at his table. "No. That wasn't why I asked."

Envy blinked, opening his mouth. "Wh…" The question died on his lips, tension seizing his shoulders as he realized he had almost slipped into a conversation with the man. This is just a new kind of interrogation. I should tell him as little as possible and refrain from engaging.

Mustang extended the bowl toward him, sliding it across the table and taking a seat to Envy's left. "They're apple slices. Try them, and we'll see how they settle in your stomach."

Envy frowned at the little red and white wedges, tilting his head to the side and lifting the dish to his nose with a sniff. It looks weird. But he set the bowl back down and grabbed one of the pieces, taking a bite and humming softly at the, surprisingly not terrible, taste and texture. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Envy had never made it a point to learn about human cuisine, though he had a little experience from his time bringing meals to Doctor Marcoh. Other than that, the only time he had eaten human food was when humanity seemed to really, really love it. Because, of course, if someone else was happy to have a treat, he wanted that same treat for himself. Typically, this brought him to various kinds of alcohol, some rare teas, desserts, and sometimes imported fruits. He had never tried an apple before. It always looked like commoners' food to him.

"You were calling for them."

Envy froze, looking up from the bowl and waiting for Mustang to continue.

"It was mostly for Father, Greed, and Lust, but you called for everyone at one time or another. Or, at least, that's what I've been told." Mustang crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms over his chest, clearly expecting some sort of response.

"I… don't remember that." Envy took another bite, if only so he would have an excuse to keep quiet, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

"That doesn't really matter." Mustang was unmoved. "You did it whether you remember it or not. I want to know why."

Envy glared, the reaction coming so instinctively there wasn't time enough to stop it. "Why? Why do you think?" His cheeks grew a little warmer, and his hands shook in his lap, given away by the rattling cuffs around his wrists.

"If I knew, do you think I would be asking?" was the sharp response, dark eyes as stony as ever.

"Because I was in agony, and I couldn't think of anyone else who would be willing to help." Envy realized as soon as he spoke that he revealed more than he intended, but it wasn't as if Mustang didn't already know that he was completely alone and universally hated, so he continued. "Were you disappointed because I didn't succumb to some kind of desperate loneliness and scream for a nameless hero instead?"

Envy processed the sound of Mustang's open palm striking his cheek before he actually felt the pain, his teeth coming together and grinding as his body temperature continued to rise. Mustang didn't say anything at first, allowing the punishment to sink in before calmly sitting back in his chair.

"I am not you, Envy. I wouldn't have enjoyed such a display. Revenge, for me, has always been based on the 'eye for an eye' concept. Watching another living creature sink into that much despair and fear is something that would excite you, not me."

Envy tasted blood on his lips and bared his teeth, his mind reprimanding him but going unheeded. "I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you."

"I would." He didn't falter even a bit. "How else would you explain my hitting you now but not in the hospital?"

Stopping, Envy squinted at the other. "What?"

"I didn't strike you in the hospital because you were afraid of me. I didn't strike you when you recanted your anger the night I brought you here. You were repentant—as repentant as someone like you can be—and there was nothing fulfilling about causing you extra pain. Just now, you were not repentant. You still aren't. I punish you because it serves a purpose, not because I derive some sort of sick pleasure from watching you shake."

If his face got any hotter, Envy feared it might burst into flames. He hated the way his captor spoke so casually about his weaknesses, about how afraid he had been, about seeing him shiver. It was humiliating, but he couldn't deny it without making an even bigger fool out of himself.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy using me for the transmutations," he hissed out, glaring at the other's chest. "Even an idiot could see you were having a good time."

Mustang tapped his finger on his bicep, nodding his head. "Yes, there was a certain sense of justice to be had. I enjoyed the fact that you were finally getting a taste of your own medicine. I was glad the souls that had been trapped away inside of you for centuries were being freed, even if that meant they were ceasing to exist. But there is nothing about hearing someone scream in agony that gives me pleasure."

"Lust would probably disagree with you on that one," the homunculus growled, shoving an apple slice into his mouth and continuing to glare.

"If you honestly believed there were any truth in those words, you would look me in the eye rather than staring at my lapels. You are trying to equivocate sadism and satisfaction. I don't have to be a sadist to kill someone without feeling remorse or guilt. I don't have to be a sadist to be pleased with my work, with my ability to hunt down monsters like you, or with the sight of such monsters dead at my feet. I can be vengeful and hateful and cruel, but I am hardly sadistic." Mustang smirked lightly, getting to his feet and walking over to an empty tea kettle. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Envy shook, rage bubbling just beneath the surface, his vision blurring as an indescribable fury took him over. Don't look down on me, human! But he couldn't say that. He couldn't say half of the things that were on his mind without facing some sort of penalty, so he shoved another slice of fruit into his mouth before his tongue could find itself.

You slimy, worthless, disgusting, arrogant, human!

"What'cha reading there, kid?"

Envy looked up from his book long enough to cast Jean Havoc a withering glare, mumbling something about being several times the man's age before burying his nose between the pages once more.

"Hey, what am I getting the silent treatment for?"

Envy didn't look up again, but it was difficult to focus on the text with someone standing there trying to start a conversation. Are you kidding me? He just wanted to read. Honestly, he was still blown away by the fact that he had been given a book at all, but he had been. Mustang said something about his body needing more time to recover before the next round of questioning and then shoved a novel into his hands. So, couldn't he enjoy it? Couldn't he have a single moment's peace? He was just sitting there, reading quietly, doing his best not to shift or move or even breathe too deeply.

"Mustang said you're gonna be out of commission for a while." Havoc grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You gonna read and refuse to talk the entire time?"

"No. If you keep bothering me, I'll talk." Envy folded down the corner of the page he was on and closed his book, giving the man a deadly glare. "I'll talk about all the ways I can kill you with the objects in this room alone."

Havoc rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. "Geeze, you're so dramatic."

Envy continued to glare, still hoping he could end the conversation with silence.

Sighing again, the soldier pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and waved them in Envy's bruised face. "I'm going out for a smoke, and you can't be unsupervised, so I was thinking you'd take the opportunity to get some fresh air."

Envy arched an eyebrow, failing to understand how he would get fresh air while Havoc smoked, but he didn't question it. He didn't say anything. He sat there, on the sofa, in the military office, staring up at the lieutenant and daring him to press further.

Havoc took the dare.

"Have you ever been told that no news is good news?"

Envy gave the man a long, hard, suspicious look.

"Well, good news! You're not talking, so you're coming with me whether you like it or not." Havoc laughed and grabbed Envy by the arms, pulling him from the couch in a single, swift movement.

Envy froze immediately, pain tearing through his midsection as he was forced into an upright position. Lightning surged to his feet and his fingertips, traveling through the muscles and bringing his many stitched and bandaged wounds to his attention. It was only an instant, but the agony made it seem like an eternity, and his face contorted despite every attempt to maintain an impassive expression.

"Sorry. Forgot about that." Havoc let go of the arms and made a movement like he was going to slap Envy on the shoulder, but he changed his mind at the last second and dropped his hand. "If you would just play along and stop being so stubborn, this would be a lot easier."

Clearly, Envy wasn't going to get away with ignoring Havoc, so he let out a shallow sigh and answered with the first quip that popped into his head. "If you would leave me alone, it would be easier still."

Havoc picked up the book Envy must have dropped while in the throes of pain. "Your book will be there when you get back." He placed it on the couch and began to walk, leading the prisoner out of the office and down the hall towards the stairwell.

Envy bit the inside of his cheek, torn between the satisfaction of another snide remark and catering to the exhaustion already racking his body. Eventually, he settled on silence, following Havoc down the steps and calculating the costs and benefits of giving him a shove.

"So, how is it?"

Envy blinked, confused.

"Living with Mustang." Havoc tossed a brief glance over his shoulder as they arrived at the exit. "How is it?"

Envy watched him carefully, suspicion showing plainly on his face. He squinted, hesitantly following the soldier out into the cool, spring air and taking time to consider the question.

How is it? What kind of a question is that? Envy leaned against the wall and carefully lowered himself to the ground, grunting softly. Is he trying to figure out how much of a threat I am? He scratched at the fabric of his hospital scrubs. Is someone trying to keep an eye on Mustang, and they got Havoc to collect intel? Or is he genuinely just curious about what goes on inside that house?

"It isn't all that remarkable," was what Envy eventually settled on.

Havoc took a drag—Envy hadn't even seen him light up—and blew smoke into the wind, keeping his gaze skyward. "No, I don't suppose it would be. You can barely move, after all."

Envy scowled. "I swear, if you dragged me out here to tell me that I am too injured to come out here, I—"

Havoc laughed suddenly, causing Envy to flinch, and flicked the ashes from the end of his cigarette. "I did bring you out here to talk, but not about that. I wanted to know more about your Philosopher's Stone."

Envy glanced over, allowing himself a swallow when he saw the man wasn't looking at him. "If you need to know anything about the Philosopher's Stone, ask the pipsqueak or his brother."

Havoc shook his head, taking another drag before replying. "I want to know about yours specifically. Hawkeye said it's not where it should be."

Envy cast another glance to his left and then let his eyes land on the courtyard in front of him, a sort of glaze forming over the shades of purple. He had spent an awful lot of time thinking about the Stone on the roof of his mouth—when he wasn't overwhelmed with pain, that is—and he still wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

If I wanted to be dead, I would tear it out of my mouth to try and destroy it. But if I were dying right now, my body would be fixing the problem—it's only the less severe wounds that won't heal. It could be exposed because it was used too much, sort of like a raw nerve beneath skin that's been scraped away, but that seems unlikely. I've never had this problem before now.

"Envy, it isn't going to do any good to keep secrets from us. If the colonel wants to know something, he'll find out one way or another. You're going to make things harder on yourself in the long run."

Glaring, Envy took a moment to contemplate the words. He knew from experience that Mustang certainly would get what he wanted in the end—and to be perfectly honest, the Elrics were pretty good at hunting down the truth, too, in their own way—but was he really prepared to surrender?

It's not surrender. It's a tactical retreat. I'm choosing to admit a weak point so I can control their next move. That's what he told himself, anyway.

"Well, I guess we can head back inside."

"I don't know." Envy kept his eyes riveted on a tree several yards in front of him, maintaining an expression that was as blank as possible.

Havoc stopped halfway through crushing his cigarette butt into the ground. "Huh?"

"I don't know why my Philosopher's Stone is where it is." Envy swallowed, slowly standing up and continuing with much more hate in his voice than his exhausted mind could process. "Tell your colonel that, Lieutenant."

Havoc said nothing, watching as Envy braced one arm against the wall and trudged back into the building. Envy didn't look back, either. He kept his eyes on the steps ahead, one hand on the railing and the other pressed against his aching side. He could hear Havoc's footsteps behind him, but the soldier didn't say anything or try to pass him.

It hurts. I shouldn't have let him bring me down here. Envy winced at the pain in his left leg, cursing under his breath. I didn't mind the fresh air, but I don't think it was worth the effort. He stopped at the door to the hallway on their floor, grabbing the handle with a shaking hand. Still, it does beat sitting around all day. He pushed his way into the hall and started to walk towards Mustang's office, his hand instinctively seeking out a wall and holding him up with it.

"Here, let me help." Havoc reached out to take Envy's free arm.

Envy jerked away, nearly falling in the process. "I don't need your help." He could feel his left leg failing even as he said those words.

"Come on, let me give you a hand." Havoc smiled. "It's my fault you're in this state, anyway. I shouldn't have tried to take you outside just yet."

"I am not an invalid," Envy snapped. "I can take care of myself."

"Envy—"

"Don't look d—"

It felt like someone stabbed his knee straight through, in one side and out the other, and he hit the ground with a stifled cry, the joint finally giving beneath his weight. Gasping, he fell over sideways to get his weight off the knee and then rolled onto his back to get closer to the wall.

"You okay?" Havoc crouched down and placed two tentative fingers on the side of the joint.

Envy jerked, sucking air through his teeth. "Do I look okay?" He sat up and grabbed his knee with both hands, hoping some pressure would ease the sensation of a knife digging into him.

Havoc rubbed the back of his head. "But you didn't do anything to it. Did it just give?"

"Apparently." Envy glared with all the hatred he could muster.

"Should I try and move you?" Havoc looked down the hall to his right, his laid back reaction igniting a fire in Envy's veins. "You almost made it back to the office. It wouldn't be far."

"Well—" he let go long enough to spread his arms in disbelief, "—I can't exactly stay here, can I?"

"I mean, you can. It's not really ideal, though."

"Lieutenant!" Envy slammed his fist against the ground, shouting through the pain in his chest. "I swear, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna slit your throat!"

"You're going to do what?"

Envy froze and turned his head to look down the hall in the opposite direction, feeling his stomach knot when his eyes landed on one very unhappy Colonel Mustang.

"It's alright, Colonel. It was my fault. I pushed him too hard, too soon." Havoc grinned, still crouching on the ground at the homunculus' side. "If I were him, I'd wanna kill me, too."

Envy looked between the two men, waiting to see what would happen. He had no idea why Havoc hadn't jumped at the chance to get him in trouble, but there was still no guarantee the explanation would satisfy Mustang. Furthermore, it was possible Havoc really was getting inside information on Mustang, and he was protecting Envy as his source of information, in which case, Envy had no idea who was going to hear about the fact that he didn't understand what his own body was doing to him.

Mustang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Havoc, don't antagonize him. He's bad enough without you making him angry, and I didn't put the handcuffs on him today, so he can actually hit you if you're annoying enough."

"Yes, sir." Havoc nodded and then turned back to Envy. "You gonna let me help now?"

Envy growled, baring his teeth, hands wandering back to his knee and rubbing at the aching joint. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Havoc only chuckled, reaching out and wrapping one arm around Envy's shoulders. He slid the other one beneath Envy's knees and, very carefully, lifted him off the ground.

Envy managed to swallow the shout that rose in his throat, moving his hand as subtly as he could to grab on to the blue jacket. "Don't drop me."

"Don't make me want to."

Envy grumbled. "Don't forget, this is all your fault."

"That doesn't mean you should make me want to drop you," was the upbeat response.

"Knock it off, both of you." Mustang's voice rang out behind them. "Envy, get back to your book. Havoc, get back to work."

"Yes, sir!" Havoc replied over his shoulder, and then he winked down at the creature in his arms. "You know, the colonel isn't all that bad as long as you don't kill his friend or become a mass murderer."

Envy stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, he seems like a real pal."

Havoc only laughed, which Envy noticed he did quite a lot. He seemed generally unaffected by Envy's presence, able to disconnect himself from the situation entirely. He wasn't as emotionally involved as Mustang, and he was too easygoing to hold a grudge even if he was.

He's still not an ally.

Havoc opened the door and approached the couch, leaning down and placing Envy on the cushions. He straightened up with a smile, gave a mock salute, and swaggered over to his desk, presumably to get back to work.

But he's not an enemy, either.

And that, Envy realized, was the first comforting thought he'd had in days.

Author's Note: I will be posting the next chapter next Wednesday!

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