Chapter Text
In the three years Ed had spent in the military, he quickly gathered a list of all the potential risks involved. The logistical part of him couldn’t help but weigh the pros and cons. Anything this risky had to be beneficial. He divided them into three categories.
First, it was the risks that were widely spoken about. Civilian or soldier, man or woman– there was no difference. Whether it be common knowledge or mere assumptions, it was the first thing that came to mind when considering military service. The risks were obvious possibilities from the moment you enlisted: life changing injuries, the possibility of never seeing your loved ones again, and finally, death.
The entire tier of risks was an argument starter, especially from Winry and Granny. Ed could still remember the screaming match between him and Winry before he left Resembol. If he closed his eyes, he could remember how her hands shook, her wrench trembling in the air. He could almost see the tears crowding in the corner of her eyes, one blink threatening to spill them all. He could remember how loud she screeched.
His ears rang for days afterwards.
The next category’s risks were more of a whisper if anything, hurriedly and softly spoken. It was as if raising the voice more than a whisper would commit the words to a reality. The possibility of war, fighting on a side you didn’t agree with, and being forced to do heinous actions for the sole reason that you were ordered to.
It was a bitter thought that constantly swirled around in Ed’s head every time he was violently reminded he was nothing but a dog of the military.
Each time he was forced to play nice with a superior officer, mindful of every word that came out of his mouth. Each time he was given a mission unrelated to the philosopher’s stone, harshly reminding him that he still had duties to the military. Each time he wandered out too far and Mustang had to tug on his leash.
His sole purpose in the eyes of the military was to act as a human weapon. Mostly used as a foreboding threat to keep other countries at bay, and occasionally used to do their dirty work. A machine they could use to do their bidding however they saw fit regardless of what Ed wanted. All he could do was grit his teeth and bare it.
The last category of risks were never spoken aloud, never acknowledged by military nor common people. It was a silent threat that lurked beneath everyone’s feet and they didn’t dare to look down. The possibility of being used as a war prisoner. Kidnapped and tortured for information and exploited for your rank, then killed when you had nothing else to offer.
Among the many conversations he overheard in the canteen, this was a topic never breached. The reality of it was far too serious and grim to be jovially tossed around in conversation.
Ed overheard it briefly mentioned once. A newly enlisted private, a bit too edgy and desperate to fit in. He proudly claimed he had the biggest threshold for pain and would never succumb to an enemy’s torture for information. The silence that quickly overcame the canteen was deafening. All eyes fell on him; most were glares, others were full of pure shock.
Edward didn’t have to stick around to know why the private got such a reaction.
Edward himself had only been involved in one conversation about it. It served as his one and only warning. Their faces were grim, features stoned. Mustang sat directly in front of him. Hawkeye to his left and Hughes to his right.
At first, Ed almost thought they were trying to give him “the talk”. After all, he was nearing that age. Not that it was necessary, Hohenheim’s books explained plenty and Ed’s common sense filled in the rest of the blanks. That would explain why Al wasn’t allowed to be in the room with him. But the deep set frown on Mustang’s face, emotions swirling in the dark cloudiness of his eyes said otherwise.
The room was almost completely silent, aside from the tick of the clock. It echoed throughout the room, sounding decibels louder than it was. All it did was make Ed all the more anxious. Did he finally screw up so badly even Mustang wouldn’t be able to get him out of it?
Tick
Was Mustang and the others so sick of Ed they couldn’t bear to put up with his shenanigans anymore?
Tick
Did the wrong person find out about Al?
Tick
Had his luck ran out? Would be Al sent off to a laboratory to be examined like an animal for the rest of his existence?
Tick
And what about Ed? Would he be put to death for his crimes? Would Team Mustang be the ones to riddle his body with bullets?
Tick
“What’s going on?” Ed questioned, unable to bear the silence and solemn looks. Roy’s eyes snapped up to him first. His nearly black eyes bore into Ed’s. The man’s gaze was unrelenting, studying every inch of Edward.
Ed had seen that look many times before, although it was mostly directed at nosy superiors. Ed could tell Mustang was analyzing them, carefully picking the words that would have the most advantageous effect. To be the target of such a stare was unnerving. It made him feel completely exposed, as if the avoidance of eye contact in and of itself was a confession. Roy’s face gave no indication of what he was thinking. Edward resisted the urge to shrink under his superior’s watch.
Instead, he drifted his eyes to Hawkeye. To his surprise, she was already looking at him, just as intently as Mustang. He felt sweat bead down the back of his neck as his hand twitched. Why wasn’t anyone talking? He flexed his automail fingers, just to have something else fill the deafening silence in the room.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Ed asked again, feeling more like he was talking to a brick wall rather than three military officers.
He casted a glance over to Hughes, who adamantly avoided Ed’s eyes. In his calloused hands, he gripped a scroll of paper tightly. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or unsettled by his avoidance. Hughes, never a man with a loss of words, was as quiet as a mouse. With each tick of the clock, Ed felt his heart race faster. He couldn’t take this silence.
“If you guys are trying to give me the talk, you don’t have to. I’ve got that covered–”
“Fullmetal,” Mustang started. Ed immediately snapped his mouth closed, relieved to have someone finally speaking to him. His relief didn’t last long as the man continued to speak. “You’ve been in the military for nearly three years now. Your assignments are going to get higher in difficulty from here on out.”
Ed stared at him with a confused look.
“Not only difficulty, but the risk level will increase as well. I do my best to keep the assignments from getting passed down to you, but one day, I won’t be able to talk my way out of it. You may be asked to infiltrate foreign countries. You might be asked to go undercover or retrieve intel and transport it somewhere else.”
Hughes spoke this time, finally looking at Edward. “Those are no easy tasks, believe me. Thankfully, most of the time our soldiers make it home in one piece. Some aren’t as fortunate.” His voice took on a tone Ed had never heard from him before. Was it guilt? Somber? He couldn’t place it.
A soft touch against his flesh knee drew him away from his thoughts. “Although we wish everyone could make it home safe every time, it’s unrealistic. It’d be irresponsible of us not to warn you.” Hawkeye told him. Her voice was soft but her words were anything but. It made the sickening dread shoot deeper into Ed’s gut.
Mustang took the now crumpled paper from Hughes and spread it across the desk. He smoothed out the wrinkles with his hands. “Our military has ranked other countries in terms of how… dire it would be to be captured in each one.” He pointed to a country on the side of the map, “at the bottom of the list is Creta. From the dispute of Table City to the Pendelton skirmish, we’ve been at each other’s throats. Even with the ongoing border disputes, they still don’t pose much of a threat to us. Their military is fairly small and they focus most of their attention on the conflicts within the nation.”
“There’s still Amestrian soldiers posted there. It’s rare to even be assigned to infiltrate Creta but if you were somehow captured, we’d be able to rescue you easily,” Hughes added.
Mustang shifted his finger down to the edge of the map, “second on the list is Aerugo. Even before the Ishavlan war, things have been tense. Although our military is bigger, Aerugo still manages to put up a resistance to us. It’s a constant push and pull; we take some land, they take it back. We don’t have as many soldiers posted there as we do in Creta, but should the need arise, we would be able to get you back.”
Finally, he pointed to the large country west of Amestris. “At the top of the list is Drachma. Like Aerugo, we had an on and off relationship. Sometime in 1900, we entered a Pact of Nonaggression. On paper, it means both of our sides will stop trying to go to war with each other, but in reality, there are still assassination attempts everyday–”
“Wait,” Ed interrupted, “why is Drachma at the top of the list if we aren’t even at war with them?”
Hawkeye spoke this time. “They aren’t ranked solely by military strength. They’re also based on what they do to prisoners of war.”
Ed paused. They were ranked on what they do to prisoners of war? Slowly, the underlying reason why Mustang had called him here alone dawned on him.
“To be more specific, their torture methods,” Mustang clarified, lips pressed into a thin line.
….
Ed couldn’t tell if it had been hours or minutes before he was jolted awake by the loud screech of the door. Pain blossomed in his wrist as he tried to put an arm up to defend himself, forgetting his predicament. He stifled the groan in his throat as he listened carefully.
Footsteps– several sets of them– shuffled into the room. The heavy boots stomped around the room, the noise surrounding Ed. If anything was going to drive Ed mad first, it’d be that damn blindfold. Every noise throughout the night had him jerking against his restraints. The howl of the wind, the sound of a far-off door slamming, the sound of Mustang’s own breathing.
He was constantly on edge. Constantly afraid that relaxing for even a second would leave him vulnerable. Constantly terrified that the next breath could be his last.
The footsteps finally stopped and Ed couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse. The room was still until a voice spoke. “Hello alchemists. Did you sleep well?“
Ed recognized the voice as Levi’s. He scowled at the man’s question, irritation flaring in his gut. How well could he sleep upright with these ropes digging into his skin? Not to mention to crick in his neck terrorizing him.
Undeterred by their silence, Levi continued to speak. “Unfortunately, our time together is short, but I hope to make the best of it.”
Roy spoke up almost immediately at his words. “How much time?” Ed couldn’t deny the same thought crossed his mind. He waited with a bated breath for the man’s answer.
“Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough,” Levi replied. The man’s words sent a shiver down his spine. Ed could almost imagine the condescending smile on his lips. He wasn’t able to dwell on it too long as Levi quickly moved on.
“Move them. I want them facing each other.” Levi commanded. Ed was confused until he realized Levi must have been talking to the others in the room. He heard footsteps resounding around him instantly. Ed cursed internally, wishing he could see what was going on. Relying solely on his hearing left him jumping at every little sound and flitching with every breath. The fear that tugged at his heels was nauseating. His mind raced with the mental images of what Levi could be planning.
Suddenly, he felt himself and the chair being lifted. He couldn’t help the protest that left his lips as he yanked wildly against his restraints. “What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” His voice was scratchy and the words grated harshly against his throat.
All his protests garnered was a hard blow against his head. His head snapped painfully to the side as he felt himself being lowered to the ground. A grunt left his lips as he reeled not only from the pain but also the shock. Distantly, he heard Mustang’s own protests.
The man's grip on his flesh arm was bone-crushing and he found himself almost grateful he only had one arm to feel the pain. How much could he move when he was already restrained?
The blindfold was ripped from his eyes and the back of his hair was yanked harshly, forcing his gaze up. Ed squinted his eyes, adjusting to the room after being deprived of his vision for hours on end.
Ed darted his gaze around the room, taking in every inch. He noted light barely flooding into the room, instead a small lantern lit up the space. It was a relatively large room. Despite the size, the room was barren, with only a table off to the side near the wall. Two men stood behind Mustang, gripping his arms tightly.
Finally, his eyes landed on Mustang in a similar position across from him. Words couldn’t even begin to explain the emotions he felt laying his eyes on the man. Not that Ed would ever admit it, but he felt comforted by his presence. Almost even glad that it was him here. He shuddered to think what would happen if it was Al instead of him.
He let the childish part of him relish in the comfort. He didn’t need to reassure anyone. He didn’t need to protect anyone else. He was relieved, having someone as capable as Roy. He wasn’t just a colonel who’d simply climbed the ranks, he was a state alchemist as well. While the thought of Roy being captured unsettled him, he knew that the man would do everything he could to get them out.
Ed had someone else to watch his back, someone else to understand the fear in his heart spiking higher every second.
He searched Mustang’s eyes, desperate for reassurance. He needed to see Mustang’s confidence— no, his arrogance. He needed to know there was nothing to worry about. He needed to know there was hope for escaping or being rescued. He needed something to cling to.
At first, Mustang’s eyes didn't meet his, instead they looked past him, to the men behind him. He watched as Mustang’s eyes widened for a split second before he removed every inch of emotion from his face. To anyone else, the movement would’ve been miniscule, easily missed. But to Ed, that movement was everything. What could he have seen— no, what did he realize?
Mustang’s gaze finally met Ed’s. His look was charged with an emotion the blond couldn’t name. Reassurance? It couldn’t have been, the look was too somber. It looked more like acceptance, but of what?
He tore his gaze away, unable to bear the emotions swirling in Mustang’s dark eyes. He looked at the back of his captor. Levi was much taller than he expected. The table looked akin to a stool next to his long legs. He listened as the man rummaged through a box.
“You two, namely Edward, have some information that I’d like to know,” Levi’s voice was smooth and even as he spoke over the sounds of metallic rustling. “Though, I doubt you’ll tell me anything willingly, it doesn’t hurt to ask: do you know how to perform human transmutation?”
The blond’s heart dropped at his words. Of course, that’s why they were taken. It seemed like his earlier theory wasn’t all the way off. Levi didn’t strike him as an alchemist. He risked a quick glance down to his restraints. He wasn’t bound by alchemy, just a tight, coarse rope. What the hell did a civilian alchemist know about human transmutation?
He looked to Mustang, silently asking what to do. With the small shake of the man’s head, he pressed his lips closed.
“No. We don’t know how to perform human transmutation.” Mustang replied with a confidence that almost surprised Edward. He spoke with so much conviction, Ed would’ve believed him if he hadn’t known the truth.
“Maybe I should’ve specified who I was asking. Edward, do you know how to perform human transmutation?” Levi clarified, still with his back towards the alchemist.
The pointed question made Edwards blood turn cold and he froze in his movements. Who really was Levi? To ask state alchemists out of curiosity was one thing, but to specifically ask Ed was another thing entirely. His question was too pointed and his tone overly confident, as if he already knew the answer. His confidence shook the blond’s core and he wondered what else Levi knew.
“I don’t,” the words tumbled past Ed’s lips just a bit too fast. His heart raced as he waited for Levi’s next move. He risked another look at Roy. Silently, a message was conveyed between the two: Levi knew dangerously more than he let on.
He watched as the man’s shoulders slumped with an audible sigh. “We’ll have to do it the hard way then.” Levi turned around, brandishing a large needle in his hand. Ed’s eyes widened as he shrunk back as far as the death grip on his arms allowed him to. The sight snapped him out of his perturbed state and into a fearful frenzy “No! Get away from me!” Ed shrieked, yanking against his restraints.
Levi was undeterred as he advanced. “I guess it is true what they say. You really are afraid of needles,” he mocked cruelly. He had an almost sadistic glint in his eyes as he stood over the blond. “Hold him down properly. Make sure he doesn’t move an inch,” he ordered.
Ed let out a small yelp as his head was wrenched to the side by his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the needle begin to prick his skin. “No, stop! Don’t-“
“Wait!” Roy interjected with a desperate edge to his voice. “What is it that you’re trying to give him?”
Levi paused, turning to look at Roy. Edward felt the needle leave his skin and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The man gave a flippant wave, “once I give it to him, you’ll see-“
“He might not live long enough for that!” Mustang cut him off as he looked at the amount of fluid in the syringe. “He has two automail limbs. Whatever is in that syringe—that dosage could be lethal for him. Give it to me instead.”
Ed turned his attention from the needle inches away from his face to Mustang. What was he getting at? Was he trying to protect him? Whatever was in the syringe, Ed couldn’t risk Roy being injected instead. If they were going to make it out, they needed Roy’s mind clear and focused. They couldn’t afford a drug-hazed mind, especially not now that the stakes had been raised. Levi’s group clearly had more manpower than either of them expected, not to mention the knowledge they potentially held.
“No. That won’t work. You don’t have what I need,” Levi replied.
“You need answers right? I’m a colonel. I know more than some insignificant major.” Ed felt his eyebrow twitch at the man’s slight diss. “Do you seriously think the military would trust a child with their secrets? We tell him the same things we tell nosy journalists, nothing but bullshit to keep them at bay. Whatever you need to know, I’m the one you need to ask.”
“I wouldn’t use the military for any standard of moral measure. Your time to answer questions will come soon enough. We don’t have much time as it is.”
There it was again, that damned time. Time this, time that— Ed was going to lose his mind if he heard it again. He almost wanted to scream “running out of time for what?”
He couldn’t dwell on it much longer as his head was pulled to the side, so his neck was on fully exposed. Ed didn’t get the chance to protest this time as the needle was quickly plunged into his neck. He cringed at the sensation of the long needle sinking into his muscle. Levi pushed all the way down until the syringe barrel laid flush against his skin. Edward didn’t dare move as the liquid was deposited into his bloodstream.
Almost immediately, Ed felt his body go limp. His limbs felt like lead as he tried to resist the syringe’s effects. His tongue felt too big in his mouth and his body too hot. Even without his jacket, he felt like he would burst into flames.
Levi forced his head up, yanking the back of his hair. Ed barely registered the pain in his scalp. The man clicked on a small flashlight, shining the light into Ed’s retinas. Ed squinted against the brightness, shrinking back. Seemingly satisfied, Levi released his grasp on Edward’s hair. “What’s your name, title, and rank?”
Ed lazily raised his head up. His eyes struggled to focus until they finally fell on Levi. The words flooded out of his mouth, “Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. ‘m a major,” he said, slurring his words.
“How old are you?” Levi questioned.
“I’m.. I’m fifteen.”
“Alright. It looks like it’s working now,” Levi told the men behind Edward. He walked back to the table, grabbing a pen and a small notebook as he leaned against it.
“What the hell did you give him?” Roy snarled, looking between his subordinate and Levi. Ed was sitting motionlessly, as if he was dead to the world.
“Something to make his lips a little looser, well, that's the intended use anyway. We’ll see what happens,” he replied absentmindedly as he scribbled in his book.
“We’ll see what happens?” Roy barked incredulously, yanking against his ropes. “You don’t know how it will affect him?”
“No, I don’t,” Levi sighed a response as if Roy's concern was an inconvenience to him.
“What if it kills him? You don’t have much use for him dead, do you?”
Levi ignored Roy’s questions as he stepped closer to Ed. He bent down slightly so his face was inches away from the boy’s. “Have you ever successfully performed human transmutation?”
Roy strained against his rope, “be quiet Fullmetal,” he warned. His words seemingly went over Ed’s head because he didn’t so much as look up at Roy.
His head hung down as he spoke lowly. “No,” Ed said.
Levi jotted something down before asking another question. “Do you know how to perform human transmutation?”
“Fullmetal, keep your mouth shut. Don’t say anything else,” Roy demanded, still straining.
Despite the drug’s sedative effects, Ed knew that this line of questioning was trekking into dangerous territory. But, resisting the need to speak was like holding his breath. The longer he tried, the worse the urge became. He tried to swallow down the words coming from his mouth. No matter how hard he bit his lips, he couldn’t fight the words leaving. “Y… yes.”
Roy’s eyes widened at his admission. It really was a truth serum. He tried kicking at Ed’s leg to shut him up but the rope on his ankle bit back harshly. “Fullmetal! Be quiet!” he barked.
“If I gave you the supplies, could you attempt human transmutation?” Levi asked seriously.
Ed bit deeper into his lips, drawing blood. He tried to focus on the sensation of the blood flowing from his lip. Edward knew the more he said, the deeper trouble he’d be in. Keeping his mouth shut was starting to become a herculean effort he wasn't sure he could handle. The longer he held his tongue, the more he wanted to speak. There was a long pause before anyone said anything.
“I- I think so,” Ed confessed finally.
Roy’s thrashing finally loosened the rope’s grip on him. His leg flew out, striking Ed in his flesh leg.
“Fullmetal! Shut the hell up! That’s an order! Keep your mouth- “Roy’s demands were cut off as the men behind him gagged him with his blindfold. He didn’t let it deter him as he continued to kick at Edward’s shin.
After a particularly wild kick, one of the men caught Roy’s leg, throwing him backward. Mustang grunted as he collided harshly against the ground.
Ed didn’t so much as stir at Roy’s outburst. He stayed still, almost as if he was in a comatose state. His golden bangs hung in front of his face.
With Roy restrained on the ground, Levi stepped back into Ed’s vision. He didn’t even acknowledge Roy on the ground as he stared straight at Ed. “Tell me what you need,” he said.
Ed began to mutter incoherently. He felt his lips moving but the words died on his tongue. He knew exactly what he would need. As much as he felt the urge to speak, he just couldn’t. His tongue was too heavy, his mind too fogged.
“Speak clearly,” Levi ordered, growing increasingly frustrated.
The boy could only mumble incoherently. He couldn’t even understand what he was trying to say.
Levi stared at him for one more beat before he stood with a sigh. “Looks like we need to do some more tweaking with the solution. Just when I thought I’d get something.” He tucked his pen inside his notebook, walking in front of Roy. He chuckled lightly as he pressed his shoe into the side of Roy’s face, leering down at him.
“What a sight. Colonel Roy Mustang, the revered flame alchemist on the floor beneath my boot. It’s a quite fitting place for a dog, don’t you think?” Levi taunted sadistically. There was a trace of a smirk left on his lips as he relished in the sight.
If looks could kill, Levi would be a pile of ash as Roy stared daggers up at him. Roy tried to jerk away but with nearly all of Levi’s weight on top of him and his arms still tied to the chair, he couldn’t move far.
Levi leaned in even closer. “The boy knows something, doesn’t he? He’ll prove more useful than you at this rate. Don’t look too sad, you’ll get your turn soon.”
He only looked for a second longer before kicking Roy in his cheekbone. “Next time you try to interrupt me, I’ll make sure you never speak again,” he threatened harshly. Levi stood up, straightening his shirt as he spoke to the other men. “Get him up and retie his legs,” he ordered, making his way to the door. The two men behind Edward followed him out.
Roy was lifted back into an upright position and he strongly debated kicking the men again. Before he could make a decision, his legs were tied, even tighter this time, and the men were leaving.