Ch 8: Electrocution

Rating: T for torture

Characters: Edward, Alphonse

Timeline: general

Notes: uhhhh…I have no excuse for this. This is just straight up a manifestation of my sadistic side. But hopefully the comfort makes up for it in the end. Also the device used in this story is from "Ashes to Ashes", so if you want more of it, check out that story (self promotion wink). This takes place probably half a year before the start of the show

"Tell us! Now!"

Edward bared his teeth, holding his deathly glare at the silhouette in front of him. The bright light in his face kept him from seeing his captors clearly, but he could tell they were big, burly men—three of them, he thought. He still wasn't sure how they even got him…or who they were. He and Al were at an average inn in the suburbs of East City, nothing fancy but certainly not shady. They didn't do anything different; Alphonse often went off to do research in the middle of the night while Ed was asleep, and Ed had never felt unsafe with this routine before. He hadn't felt unsafe this time, either, but apparently, that wasn't the case. Sometime during the night while he was sleeping and Al was gone, someone had done something. Something Ed had no memory of, but which ended with him waking up tied to a chair in a dark room. Then, the light was turned on, and someone kept asking him the same question, over and over in some kind of slight, unfamiliar accent: what do you know about your military's plans of war? Why Edward would even have an answer to that question was a question in and of itself…and he'd tried telling his captors that. Yes, he was a well respected State Alchemist…but he wasn't involved in any war planning. He wasn't important enough to know any of that stuff…but these men, whoever they were, just wouldn't take no for an answer.

Now, Edward was sporting several new bruises and a split lip, and they were still asking the same thing.

"I said…I don't know!" Ed replied. "Why would I know that? Do you really think they'd trust a teenager with information like that?"

"It doesn't matter if you are fourteen or forty," the interrogator snarled back. "You are important to your military. I am sure they've told you plenty."

"I think the more important someone is, the less they know…can't have them finding out the wrong things, right? Gotta keep them loyal," Ed reasoned, albeit a bit snarkily.

The man didn't like his tone. Edward felt a large fist collide into his gut for at least the third time. "Stop being smart with us. You are going to tell us anything and everything you know."

Ed forced a grin through the pained grimace that wanted dominion over his face. "Well, can I at least know who I'm talking to? I don't want to tell things to some random stranger…" As he spoke, he felt around as much as he could for anything, anything, he could use to get out of here. He'd been kidnapped in his sleepwear (shorts and a t-shirt), so he could feel the ropes digging into his skin, giving him a decent idea of how he was tied to the chair. His hands were bound in a way that kept him from bringing them together, held tight to the arms of the chair. In addition, another rope held his torso to the back of the chair, and yet another held his ankles to the legs of it. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of options, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to find a way out.

"My name is Darren. And that is all you need to know, military dog."

"Okay, Darren…Well, here's what I know:" Ed paused. "Absolutely nothing."

Darren slapped a hand onto a table with a thunderous crack. "Stop playing games! We will make you talk, one way or another…" The silhouette nodded off to the side, and Ed's smile faded as he heard movement in the corner of the room.

The other two silhouettes moved forward, one coming into the light at Ed's side. He looked vaguely foreign, but Ed wasn't sure from where.

"That is some nice automail you've got," Darren said. "Everyone has heard about the Fullmetal Alchemist's metal arm, but I didn't know about his metal leg. You must have had some accident."

"It's none of your business," Ed replied, eyeing the man beside him warily.

"Oh, I don't care what happened…I just hope it will get you to talk." Ed could hear the grin in the man's voice. "Riccardo here is a bit of a specialist. He is just going to remove your limbs for me, and then hopefully we will get some answers."

Edward immediately struggled against his restraints again, hoping to get the chair to tip or move in any way—but it seemed to be bolted to the floor. "Get away from me!" he snarled at Riccardo. But before he knew it, the man's hands were all up in the inner workings of his arm, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. He felt the dull shock that signaled his nerve connection being cut, and then the numb, empty sensation of having nothing in his port. He heard the light thud of Riccardo setting his arm on the floor, then the man moved around to the front, starting to fiddle with Ed's leg. He untied the rope around Ed's left ankle, but unfortunately for him, that did nothing to loosen it against his right.

"You know it's going to take a lot more than just removing my automail to get me to talk," Edward said, managing to mask the slight waver in his voice. "Especially about things I don't know." He could feel the beginnings of panic in his chest, because he was at a severe disadvantage without his prosthetic limbs. Having one arm cut his fighting ability by about a third, but having one arm and one leg basically brought it down to zero. If he didn't have something to draw with to use alchemy, there wasn't a whole lot he could do…Maybe he could jump onto someone and strangle them, but there were three enemies here. He needed to be able to fight them all at once. So, for now, his best weapon was his tongue, and he would do whatever he could to stall whatever plans these men had.

"Well, then luckily for you, we weren't planning on just removing your automail," Darren replied.

Ed heard his leg disconnect and watched Riccardo carry both limbs away. He looked at his lap, briefly considering what he could do with the real part of his left leg now free, but there wasn't much. He could maybe try to stab someone with the plug at the end of his leg, but that required the captors to be close enough for him to reach. Back to stalling, it was. "Who do you work for? Why's it so important to know what the military's planning, huh?"

"That is none of your business," Darren replied.

"What kind of accent is that?" Ed asked. "You speak Amestrian really well, but I can tell you're not native." Riccardo returned, carrying a metal box adorned with knobs and wires. Ed recognized it with a sinking feeling. It was one of the machines used in automail work to test nerve endings…by firing electricity into them.

"Just know that we are no friends of your country," Darren said with an audible smirk.

"Mm, never would've guessed that," Ed quipped, watching Riccardo warily. "So, care to tell me why you think my automail needs maintenance?"

"Oh, so you're familiar with this little device?" Darren laughed. "Well, not the way we'll be using it. We have made some modifications to it…firstly so it can be used on people without automail, of course. But you're lucky; you'll get to experience it much more intimately. We have also replaced its battery with something of a higher voltage…we need people to talk, after all, and as painful as it would have been in its original form, we didn't think it was good enough for our goals. It won't kill you…but you might wish otherwise."

"So you've electrocuted multiple people with this?" Ed asked, faltering to keep his grin up. "Well, I'm happy to be the first person it won't break. I have nothing to tell you."

"We will see…" Darren said, nodding again at Riccardo.

Riccardo stepped closer, holding a handful of wires. He connected one of each color to receptors in Ed's shoulder port, then moved to his leg, holding down his thigh so he couldn't move while unscrewing the cover plate at the end of his leg. Ed pushed and pulled as hard as he could against the man's grip, but he couldn't shake the hand off. So, he ended up just glaring, wishing his torso wasn't tied to the back of the chair so he could lean over and bite the bastard. Once the metal plate was removed, Riccardo connected the rest of the wires to Ed's leg port. He finished off his work by tying a restraint around Edward's left leg, so he couldn't yank any of the wires out.

"I will give you one more chance to talk, Fullmetal Alchemist," Darren said. "What do you know about your military's plans of war?"

"Nothing," Ed replied. "But I can make something up if you'd like."

"We want the truth, and you are only making it more difficult for yourself. Maybe this will change your mind…"

Riccardo flipped a switch on the automail device, and Edward braced himself for the electric current. However, when it hit, it felt unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He was used to the fiery sensation that raced through his chest and leg whenever his limbs were reconnected, but this didn't feel like that. And just like Darren had promised, it didn't feel like Ed's singular past experience with this machine, either. He'd had to use it once, when he sustained an injury that had the doctors concerned about nerve damage. It had lasted ten seconds as opposed to the usual one or two that came with reconnecting limbs, but it had barely been enough to make him cry. This, on the other hand—this was something else. This felt almost like automail surgery, when every fiber of his being was confused and in distress, and yet, it was somehow even worse than that. Every muscle in Edward's body seized up all at once, and he couldn't move. He couldn't even scream—it felt like his vocal chords had solidified in his throat. And with his muscles being stuck in a contraction, he couldn't breathe either. It was like he was simultaneously being crushed, burned, and stabbed from the inside out. Just when he felt like he was about to pass out from the pain, it stopped. He sucked in a gasping breath, his muscles still twitching and tingling even though the electric current was gone.

Darren stepped forward into the light, revealing himself for the first time. He looked very similar to Riccardo, with a vaguely foreign appearance. Ed couldn't make out many details through his swimming vision, however. He blinked but it didn't clear up, and he didn't even see the hand coming until it had grabbed his chin in a vice grip. Darren tilted Ed's head upward, forcing eye contact. "What do you know about your military's plans of war?" Darren asked for the dozenth time.

In response, Edward gathered as much saliva as he could from his suddenly too-dry mouth and spat in the man's face. That earned him a fierce kick to the shin, and Darren snarled, "Looks like you haven't learned anything yet, you little brat. Another round, Riccardo." Darren let go of Ed's face, and the moment he did, another wave of agony raced through Ed's entire nervous system. It only lasted half as long as the first time, but felt longer than before. When it was over, his head was pounding and his heart was racing like he'd been sprinting.

"What do you know about your military's plans of war?!"

"I…said…nothing!" Ed cried, his voice coming out much weaker than he'd intended. "It's the truth!" He wouldn't let this break him, because he was stronger than that—but damn it all if he didn't want it to stop.

This time, Darren didn't even respond, and just signaled to Riccardo. Three times, four times, five times he was used as a human conductor, leaving him so weak he couldn't even hold himself upright in the chair any longer. Involuntary tears slid down his cheeks, but he kept his eyes as cold and focused as he could, because they had to know he would never let them win—even if his body just begged for the pain to end.

"What do you know about your military's plans of war!?"

"How many times…do I hafta say it?" Ed croaked out. "I'm gettin' really sick of you askin'..." He tried lifting his head to look at the men, but it felt like all the tissue had liquefied inside him; he was quite literally being held up by the restraints around him. He wasn't sure how much more his body could handle before it gave out.

"Again, Riccardo," Darren commanded.

In response, Riccardo spoke for the first time, in a language Edward didn't know. He'd learned a few words of languages from the countries around Amestris while researching alchemy, but he couldn't pick up anything the man was saying.

Darren crossed his arms. "He's stubborn. I know it doesn't usually take this long."

Riccardo said something else.

"Then just be careful and make sure you don't kill him," Darren replied.

A sinking feeling added itself to the plethora of emotions in Ed's chest. He could actually freaking die because of this.

Riccardo moved, and Ed braced himself as much as he could, feeling the agonizing heat radiate through his body—when an echoing boom sounded from the building. Ed's captors paused, shutting off the machine, and everyone listened. A series of bangs came closer, and Edward's heart soared; he'd know that sound anywhere. His little brother was here to help.

The crackle of alchemy sounded against the door, and a smaller door formed inside it. Alphonse came crashing into the room, took one look at the situation, and knocked all three men out cold in ten seconds flat. He wasn't generally a violent person, but when his brother was in danger, all those rules went out the window.

"Ed!" Alphonse cried, dropping to his knees by Ed's side. "What…why is…" he gently picked up one of the wires connected to the older boy.

"Battery…" Ed said quietly, too tired and pained to say much else. He shifted his eyes, briefly seeing a blurry image of Al's torso before the blackness surrounding his vision consumed him. Al shrieked, looking frantically for his backup.

That was when several of Colonel Mustang's men poured into the room, surveying the scene with firearms raised. Havoc looked surprised at the unconscious men on the floor, then looked at Alphonse.

"Did you—"

"Help my brother!" Al cried. "I think they…I think they electrocuted him!"

"Okay, Al, we'll help him," Havoc said, trying to calm the younger boy down. "Fuery, Falman, get these men cuffed and out of here. I'll stay and help the chief." Fuery and Falman saluted, going to work on the captors.

Havoc examined the device Ed was hooked up to, cursing under his breath. "40 milliamps…" That much electricity could cause permanent damage to the kid's nerves and organs. Havoc made sure the machine was off, before carefully disconnecting the wires from Edward's automail. Meanwhile, Al untied the ropes, catching his brother when he started to slip off the seat. Al pulled Ed close, noticing the constant tremor running through his body.

"He's shaking," Al said.

"Okay. Put him down, gently," Havoc said, going through everything he knew about field neuro exams in his mind. He wouldn't be surprised if the kid was having some kind of seizure, given what had happened. Edward was breathing, and seemingly breathing okay, so Havoc wasn't too worried about his airway closing up. Havoc flicked his lighter, opening one of Ed's eyes and watching his pupil react to the light. His pupil constricted, but too slowly. He tested Ed's reflexes, which reacted, but too weakly. All in line with some kind of neurological event. After a minute, the light spasms in his muscles ceased, but the shivering continued. Havoc checked his pulse, finding Ed's heartbeat quick and slightly irregular.

"His heartbeat feels a little arrhythmic, but I think he's stable enough to transport," Havoc told Alphonse.

"His heartbeat's off? Will it go back to normal?" Al asked, afraid.

"The heart takes the body's own electric signals as a sort of metronome, so it's not too surprising that the current they put into his body disrupted that…but I can't say if it'll go back to normal or not. It depends on how much electricity he received and how he heals. I don't even know what kind of things could've happened to the rest of his insides. He could have internal burns, or nerve damage, or organ failure…or he could be totally fine. We won't know until we know."

That did nothing to reassure Al, but he wasn't sure anything could at the moment. He gathered Ed into his arms, holding his limp body close as they hurried out of the building.

When they got outside, Al saw Ed's eyes flutter. "Brother? Are you awake?" he asked, hopeful. It took a second for him to focus, but Edward looked up at Al's static face. "You're going to be okay, Brother, don't worry!" Al assured him. He squeezed into the military car, laying his brother on his metal lap.

"Lieutenant Havoc, we have secured the prisoners," Fuery said from beside the other car. "We also found Edward's automail and retrieved it."

"Good work, Sergeant," Havoc said. "Get those bastards to questioning, and inform the colonel that we have Fullmetal and will be taking him to the hospital." Fuery saluted and got into his and Falman's car.

Meanwhile, in the other car, Edward was curled into his brother's arms, listening to the comforting tones of Al's voice. When the car started moving, Al held Ed as stably as he could, not wanting to jostle him too much. Ed's whole being felt raw and pained, and somehow simultaneously exhausted and energized. It was like his insides had turned to mush and he couldn't move, but he was restless at the same time. He felt sort of tingly beneath the pain, but what disturbed him the most was how short of breath he felt. He could feel his pulse in his head and neck, and it didn't feel quite right. But when he focused on Al's voice, it didn't feel quite as awful.

"When I got back to the room and you were gone, I didn't know what to do. So I called Colonel Mustang's office and they said there was a terrorist group they'd been watching for a few months around here and he would send help immediately. There were three suspicious places they thought the group's hideout might be. It was pure luck we chose the right one…"

"I didn' hear who they were…" Edward mumbled. "I asked…"

"It's okay. We'll find out in interrogation."

"Sorry…"

Al paused. "You're sorry? I know you're really good at taking the blame for things, Brother, but why in the world are you sorry?"

"Got taken."

"That's not your fault. They obviously did something to incapacitate you…I know you would've fought them off if they didn't. Do you even remember how they got you?" Ed shook his head slightly. "See? There was nothing you could've done. Personally, I think it's cowardly to kidnap someone when they're sleeping. They didn't think they could take you when you were awake."

"Maybe…" Ed replied. For a moment, he lost focus on Alphonse's presence, thinking about what he could've done to prevent this. The pain came back in full force, and he grimaced, feeling tears prick against the back of his eyes.

"Does it hurt?" Al asked.

Ed nodded a little; there was no denying it when it was written in his face.

Al paused, seeming to think over his next question carefully. "How…how many times did they…hurt you?"

"I…didn't really count…" Edward lied. He had counted…at least until the third time. Then his sole focus was on keeping himself conscious.

"You'll be okay," Al said, probably equally to himself as to Ed. "The doctors will help you, and the colonel will put those men in jail, and then you'll get your automail back and we'll keep looking for the stone."

Ed nodded again, taking in the confidence in Al's voice, no matter how forced it may have been. He buried his head into Al's arms, knowing that despite everything that had happened that day, he was safe. And no matter what, as long as he had his little brother, he would be okay.

i know that ending was kinda meh, but i didn't know how to end it right...Either way, onto the next!