Chapter Text
Ed thought he had gotten used to the whole charade of being a hostage. Get ambushed, either wake up in a new location or be dragged somewhere close to where he was jumped, antagonize his kidnappers until they did something stupid and he would kick their asses, and maybe even be rescued if plan a failed - he refused to acknowledge how often plan a failed, considering there were still many times it worked out for the best - by stupid Mustang and his team. Either way, he got out, and would then get a lecture on “how to do his job better” and “how could this always happen to him” and “stop being so easy to kidnap.”
It wasn’t his fault. Trouble liked him a little too much for the teen’s own liking. He understood why he had such a huge target over his head, he wasn’t stupid. The youngest State Alchemist in Amestris, underling to Colonel Roy Mustang - a relatively young Colonel with sights on becoming the next Fuhrer - and not to mention, a literal child in the military. He took Havoc and Hawkeye’s “hostage workshops” where they drilled it into his head what enemies could do to him if they were trying to extract information out of him, in what ways, and how to keep strong under threats of violence or torture. Havoc was more gentle in explaining these methods, but Hawkeye refused to pull back, insisting it was important for Ed to know just how vile an enemy could be, and they likely wouldn’t go easy on Ed because of his age.
“I’d like to hope the vast majority of potential kidnappers would consider your age, but I do not want you to be put in a situation where they hurt you in ways you would never want anyone in,” Hawkeye had claimed as she brewed tea for the three of them - Al wasn’t allowed to join the workshops given his… everything - after listing a couple graphic torture techniques that would harm a human’s mental and physical health. It was meant to soothe the sickening feeling in Ed’s stomach.
Thus, he thought he knew what to expect when he woke up, gagged, and missing his automail limbs, his remaining limbs bound together at an uncomfortable angle for his back. He felt the floor below him move and bump, suggesting he was in a car of some sort, but he couldn’t see with a thick scratchy bag over his head.
He thought back the past day, his mind a little foggy outside the immediate situation of “kidnapping number whatever” but found it peculiar. He wasn’t on the tail of rogue agents or uncovering coup or something he was tasked with. If his memory was working, and it should be, he had just returned to East city to give in a report. He was supposed to have the next couple days to unwind and see if there was anything new at the military’s library. Al had went to buy something for Ed to eat…
His memory grew fuzzy from there. He had to guess he had been caught sometime after Al had left. On the bright side, that meant Al would know he was missing, and would do whatever it took to get him back. Hopefully the kidnappers had left something that Al or the Bastard Colonel could follow and get him out in no time.
In the meantime, he thought it would be best to see if he could get out of this himself.
For a couple moments, he listened for who was in the vehicle with him, and guessed about three, including the driver. It was hard to tell for sure with the bag over his head echoing his own heavy breathing back at him. Good enough for him.
Despite being down both automail limbs, Ed wasn’t a weak little runt. Nor was he small, thank you very much. He tested the strength of the binding around his wrist and ankle, and grunted at how tight it was.
“Quit moving, brat,” a gruff voice said from his left and his head was pushed into the floor by what felt like a shoe.
“Grr ph!” Ed growled, straining his arm to reach the shoe and push it away, but only managed to put himself on his stomach.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut it,” the voice applied pressure against Ed’s head until he whined in pain.
It was only when he heard another muffled protest that Ed found the situation took a different turn. He hadn’t been the only one kidnapped, and from the sound, it was someone older than him - many people were older than a thirteen year old, but the fact of the matter stands - and they were likely tied up in a similar fashion.
“Shit. Now they’re both waking up,” the gruff voice grumbled, and Ed heard movement from him. “Told you we should have given them a second dose already.”
Another person made a noncommittal grunt before Ed felt a hand on his head instead of the shoe, pulling his jacket off the shoulder that still had an arm. He squirmed until the pressure of the hand pushing him into the floor started to hurt and he felt the dreadfully familiar sensation of a needle pricking his skin. He protested loudly as he felt it go in and come out, and blinked heavily. He felt his remaining limbs grow heavy, and he fell back on his side with a quiet thump. He struggled to stay awake, swearing revenge for that, but it was a battle he would not win anytime soon.
Riza had just been thinking it was going a little too smoothly in the office. Roy was working on his reports - albeit only when she situated herself behind him at his desk, burning holes in the back of his head - and the other men weren’t as unruly as normal. Fuery had finished his smaller workload and was writing up something new - she mentally noted she would look over it whenever he finished - and Falman was copying one of Edward’s older reports, before he had gotten a little better at writing with his left hand, so it could be properly filed away. Breda and Jean were gossiping away, which would normally cause Riza to scold them, but they were working as they gossiped, so she let it slide.
Roy paused in his signing reports to shake out his hand, stretching his arms over his head.
“You don’t need to keep doing this now, Lieutenant,” he said without looking behind him to her.
“We both know I do have to stay here until break,” she remarked back sharply, her expression softening up for a moment. “You’d just slack off again, sir.”
“You are unfairly mean to me, Lieutenant,” Roy complained lightly, but even with his face away from her, she could tell the smile in his voice was outwardly shown as well.
“Myself and Sergeant Fuery are the only ones finished with our reports so far,” Riza reminded. “Be glad I am not bringing in more before break.”
“Have I ever told you I fear the day you and Brigadier General Armstrong team up?”
“You have not, but good. You should be afraid,” she smiled a little, controlling herself not to laugh at Roy’s overdramatic shudder.
“That is either a masochist’s wet dream or the Colonel’s nightmare,” Havoc commented with a chuckle, and the other men agreed with varying laughter as well.
Then, sounds of metal shuffling in a great hurry caught their attention, and the laughter faded a bit. Riza kept her eyes trained on the door, instinct having a hand reach for one of her guns at her hip. It did not sound like casual walking, they were hurried and almost sprinting by the quick clinks and clunks of metal against metal.
Without missing a beat, the door was slammed open and Riza noted the first concerning fact: Alphonse came running in alone. In the last year and a bit of the Elrics working for the military, it was truly rare for the younger Elric child to walk into the office alone, let alone run into it.
“Colonel!” He shouted, his voice high, tinny, and shrill, another concerning fact. Despite being only a soul in a suit of armour, his voice had gotten very expressive. However, this was much more emotion than normal. Alphonse sounded near-tears.
“Alphonse?” Breda questioned, sitting up. He was the closest to the door and he gently put a hand out to the preteen. “Woah, bud, where’s the fire?”
Riza looked over the armoured boy with narrowed eyes, and she caught several things. He was shaking, fearful shaking and one hand was clutching something so tightly she wondered if it was still in one piece, whatever it may be. He kept glancing around, as if looking for something, or someone, that wasn’t there.
Without him even saying a thing, she was already certain she knew what had just occurred.
“Colonel!” Alphonse cried, shaking off Breda’s hand and shakily moving right up to Roy’s desk. “Colonel, Ed-!”
He opened his clenched hand to allow a piece of paper flop onto his desk, crumpled and ripped in places. Roy took the paper and smoothed it out, and Riza looked from over his shoulder, clenching her jaw as they both read the message.
Want to play a game? Winner gets the little alchemist.