Seeing Red

Chapter 6

"We received some very interesting information this morning."

Envy looked up from the head in his lap, eyes wandering over the collection of soldiers and alchemists that were gathered in front of Mustang's desk.

"All four of the individuals we apprehended at the lab where Raiden was made have killed themselves." Mustang leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and interlacing his fingers. "We know it was some kind of poison, though the autopsies haven't been completed yet. We don't know how they did it."

Envy pursed his lips, thinking back to the researchers they had turned into Philosopher's Stones. It had been the most logical way to keep them silent, but he couldn't remember if they had ever had researchers so dedicated to them that they would kill themselves.

"We have to ask the question—" Hawkeye started, contemplative eyes focused on Mustang, "—did they kill themselves because they didn't want to give information, or did they kill themselves because they feared the consequences?"

"Or both," Breda muttered, giving the ground a scrutinous look.

Envy looked down at Raiden, who was coherent for the first time since his creation—other than the half-conscious slurring of his name when asked—and flicked him in the temple. "Looks like you're our best bet for figuring out what they were up to."

Raiden looked up at Envy, blue eyes wide, and then he let out a giggle. "I don't know what they were up to!" He reached up, grabbing Envy's ear and tugging on it. "I don't even know who you're talking about!"

Envy glared, grabbing the hand on his ear and jerking it away. "Don't do that." He kept his eyes narrowed, and as Raiden shrank back in fear, he heard the conversation next to him continue.

"If the scientists or researchers or whatever they were have killed themselves, can we assume they aren't very high up on the chain of command?" That sounded like Havoc.

"If there even is a chain of command. Maybe they were operating all on their own." That sounded like Breda.

"Hey, Raiden." That was Alphonse, who had broken away from the group and was approaching the sofa with a sickeningly kind smile. "Why don't you and I go for a walk and leave Envy alone for a little while?"

"Don't tell us what to do." There was no gap between the last word of Alphonse's sentence and the first word of Envy's. "I can handle my own brother." He almost growled, baring his teeth and feeling the vibration rising in his throat, but he stopped himself.

Alphonse blinked, seeming a little surprised by the response, but he recovered quickly. "Okay. Well... tell me if you change your mind."

"I won't." Envy pushed Raiden's hand aside but let it go, trusting his brother wouldn't try to grab his ear again. He gave a bit of his attention to the soldiers, who hadn't stopped talking, but half of his focus was still on Raiden and his odd behavior.

"Could the type of poison used give us some clues as to who is running things?" That sounded like Falman.

"Maybe we need to take a closer look at their personal lives. We could interview their families and try to find out how and when they got involved in this." That sounded like Fuery.

"Brother, are you ticklish? Because I am!" Raiden dug his fingers into Envy's sides, laughing to himself.

Envy froze, and while the contact aggravated his still healing burns, he didn't try to get Raiden to stop. Instead, he took in the sparkling blue eyes, wide with innocence despite the horrors his tiny lifespan had already put in his path. He heard the tittering laughter and cheerful but broken sentences, undimmed by the hours spent writhing on a hospital bed. He felt the joy—the complete and unadulterated elation—that had been in no particular way earned either by life circumstances or the person that blinding smile was currently directed at. It was pure, and honest, and warm, and soft, and heart-wrenchingly precious, and it was everything a homunculus was not supposed to be.