Descent

Chapter Eight

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide all of his bruises from Winry and Riza. With the constant beatings from Mustang, almost his entire body was covered in purple, black, yellow and blue patches. He even sported more and more burns. He tried to avoid Mustang, but the man always sought him out, and it was impossible to run away once he was cornered. He was beginning to limp, thanks to the several cracked ribs, but he had to fight himself to hide it, he couldn't let them see. He couldn't let them know. At night, he would wait till Winry was asleep, then quietly slip out and sleep on the couch. The nightmares were coming every night now, again, and he didn't want to wake her with them. But he suspected that they were beginning to notice something was wrong. They frowned at him when they thought he wasn't looking, and he could hear some of their whispers. At least Winry and Riza have hit it off, he thought. He kept himself shut up in his room whenever he could, and when he couldn't he would go outside and try to keep himself hidden once he was out of sight, because he knew Mustang would follow him. He was doing exactly that right now. Hiding behind a trash can in an alleyway a few blocks away from the apartment, waiting for Roy to appear and, hopefully, pass by him without noticing. He sat in complete silence, breathing quietly through his nose. His heart was pounding, and he wouldn't be surprised if Mustang heard it when he finally caught up. It occurred to Edward he could have gone into the forest and climbed up a tree, but Mustang would probably just burn the tree down.

But still, it might have been a good hiding place. He was tempted to jump out of his spot now and go there, but for all he knew Mustang was already walking down the street, and if he moved now he could well be spotted.

He froze as footsteps became apparent, and took in slow, silent breaths until they reached the trash can he was hiding behind. He held his breath as the footsteps paused, and he didn't release it until they continued past him. Without moving an inch, he could see it was Mustang in his military uniform through his peripheral vision. When Mustang was out of sight, he counted in his head to thirty and peered his head out. The street was empty. He sighed in relief and crept out of the alley, jogging down the block and wincing as the movement caused severe pain in his legs and back. He jogged to the outskirts of town, walked up the hill and into the forest. He found his little hut that he'd made a little over two months ago, and noticed that a lot of the leaves had fallen off of the branches he'd used. He swept them up and scatted them inside the hut, and climbed a nearby tree to find some more branches. When he'd dropped enough he climbed down and gathered them all, then placed them over the wooden frame, making a curtain. He smiled at it and made to crawl inside, when, from behind a tree, he thought he saw a flash of blue.

He froze, slowly standing back up. He pretended to inspect the wall of the hut one last time, and muttered, "Not enough. Need more branches." And he climbed the tree again, going as high up as possible, occasionally dropping a few branches to make his endeavor look legit. When he had reached as high as he could physically go without falling, he looked down.

Mustang was at the base of the tree, smirking up at him.

He stifled a cry and tightened his grip on the tree. There was no point feigning dropping branches anymore. Mustang knew Ed had seen him. He didn't move, he was terrified of going back down and facing Mustang, but he was also mildly curious as to how Mustang planned to get him down without killing him. Mustang might think he'd have to come down eventually, but Ed had a feeling his patience could outlast Mustang's. He had no problem going to the toilet from the top of a tree, as long as it meant he could avoid being beaten up, and his months in Drachma had made him quite resistant to hunger. He could go the next few days without food before it worried him too much, and the same went for sleep. Although, if it got to that point, he could use his cloak to tie himself to the branch. He didn't think Mustang could go that long without food or sleep or water. Ed was fine as far as water was concerned. Judging by the weather he was looking up at now, it was going to rain sometime within the next few hours. If he opened his mouth and cupped his hands, he could easily catch some of the rainwater. He'd be cold and drenched, but it wasn't like he was unused to that particular dilemma. But it pissed him off to know that when the rain came, Roy would benefit from the hut Ed had made.