Pain… something hurt, in a familiar kind of throbbing way that Ed knew he’d felt before, but couldn’t place. It felt as though something had been gnawing at him, taking him apart with tiny teeth, bit-by-bit, tiny piece by tiny piece.

It hurt, but only vaguely. It felt blunt, as though it had been aching for a long time.

But what was hurting?

Ed moved things experimentally. His automail was still intact – not that it was the kind of pain he felt with automail. No, something different.

He could feel his toes move, and his fingers too. It hurt to move them, but it was a different kind of hurt that Ed could be satisfied with. He had his limbs.

It hurt to breathe too; again not the pain that he was looking for. Smoke, thick and grey was everywhere pouring into Ed’s lungs; coughing he tried sitting up.

His head hurt too; the room pitched and lurched and Ed found lying down was easier. Closing his eyes against the haze of smoke above him, he shakily took another breath.

He was under the smoke; he didn’t need to hack and cough. He could just lay here, close his eyes, and wait for Al…

The pain increased; he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight couldn’t move.

Al’s not here something told him, because you failed him.

He couldn’t open his mouth to tell them they were wrong; nor could he struggle against the seemingly invisible hands that were grabbing at him.

He didn’t deserve that, you know. You made the mistake. You risked his life. You and your pride put your brother in danger. And then – the voices were angry now, the hands digging deeper into flesh and automail – then you did to him what you did to your mother.

Everything seemed to stop.

Ed’s head was pounding, something was throbbing painfully, he couldn’t breathe. But it was all in an echoing kind of silence, as if the world was standing still, waiting for his defence.

And you have the nerve to rely on him to save you. Whatever they were, they were mocking him now. It filled him with his own dangerous anger; yanking his arms back from what was grabbing at him.

“I didn’t do that. Not to Al. I never did that!”

Equivalent exchange, they said, with a cold kind of murderous cruelty that made the hair on Ed’s neck prickle. For all that he’s done for you, all the times he’s helped you when he should’ve left you, for all the times he protected you when he should’ve let you do, for all the times he said he loved you when he should have hated you.

Equivalent exchange. The voices boomed. The hands were grabbing at him again, but the pain was gone and he could see. He could see the tiny black hands pulling on him, see their leering grins, see their eyes shining with pure greed and longing.

And then he was gone.

-

He was drenched in sweat, and in some place dark. It was too dark for him to recognize, but he knew already where he was.

And who was there.

Another prickle of fear ran up his spine; in an attempt to reassure himself, Ed squinted into the shadows for a glimpse of Al.

With a jolt that felt as though someone had kicked him in the stomach, Ed suddenly sank back down. The already dark room blurred, shadows bled into the darkness; Ed couldn’t see anymore. He wasn’t missing anything.

Al’s not here.

The words from his dream – no, nightmare – rang in his head, as loud and as booming but not as real as before.

“Al’s not here,” Ed said, voice raspy with hurt and exhaustion, “because I… I…”

“You?” A voice prompted, and Ed felt his stomach sink. “Come on, Shorty, you almost had it this time!”

The encouragement – however false it may have been – to acknowledge that he had killed his own brother made Ed feel sicker.

“Shut up… shut up!” Ed could almost see the smirk on his face; hear him laugh softly to himself as if he was enjoying this.

But he is. He is enjoying this all. It’s what he’s wanted – to see me trapped and helpless. Why wouldn’t like this?

“What’s wrong? Did I hit a touchy spot? Can’t the Fullmetal shrimp acknowledge what he’s done?”

“You… you keep quiet.” Ed growled. “You sick—”

“I’d watch what I say if I were you,” Envy told him, in a dangerously cheerful tone that Ed had grown to fear. “You don’thaveanyone to save you.”

I don’t.

Roy had sent him away on a mission – he wasn’t supposed to be back for another three days. And by then…

“No brother, no military…” Envy was saying in a singsong voice; Ed nearly flinched as he felt the bed lower itself with newly added weight.

“No one to saveyou now.”

“Of course, I could always become Al,” Envy was saying. “You’d like that better than my company, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t you dare,” Ed threatened weakly. “Don’t…”

“Why not?” Ed couldn’t see the smirk that he knew was there; nor could he see the change he knew was happening.

“Don’t you want me to be alive again, brother?”

“Stop it…” Ed was begging; Envy’s face lit up with a grin that was horribly out of place on Al’s ten-year old face.

“How did you know… what he looked like…?” For even in the dark room, Ed could see his brothers face grinning at him, much closer than Ed had thought it was.

“That girl,” Al – Envy! – said in an off-hand voice. “She has pictures in her house.”

“You…”

“Yes brother?” Envy asked in Al’s voice. Ed could hear the blankets be shuffled away as Envy/Al crawled closer to him; Ed in turn curled up into a ball and inched further away.

“Stop it already,” Ed pleaded. “Please.”

Envy/Al didn’t say anything. Ed jerked forward as he hit the backboard of the bed and Al’s – Envy’s! – arms were instantly around him.

Any protests Ed had were ignored; too weak and too tired to scramble away Ed could only beg for Envy – Al? – to let him go, to stop it, to leave him alone.

When Envy – Al? – kissed him, it was as if they were both kissing him; because the sweetness couldn’t be Envy and the hunger couldn’t be Al.

Ed didn’t notice the change; but when he looked up he was looking into narrowed purple eyes instead of wide bronze ones.

He did it again, and even though he wasn’t Al, there was the same sweetness and the same hunger.

“Come back tomorrow?” Ed wanted to take that back as soon as he said it. This was Envy. Envy the sin, Envy the homunculus, Envy the first son of his four hundred year old father –

“Alright, I will.”

-

Author's notes: Don't you dare ask about the title. XDD

This fic is for GOD, aka Pheonix-chan. You know you want to read her fics too ;) -shameless is me-

And yes I did take out all the "Chibi-sans". :D