Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Hiromu Arakawa does. I only own the OC characters.

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From that point on, his new life was set into motion. His one purpose reflected that of the whims of his master. Every night, she would have his way with him, to which he would be mostly unresponsive, except for when she coaxed a groan or whimper from him. It was made clear to him that he was made to be used, like a puppet with strings, pulled along to the movements of the puppeteer.

The smoke that his master had given him was something that he used almost every day. She was right about how it wasn't as severe as the drugs he was forced to take back at the warehouse. It helped calm his nerves and reduce his fever. The only sign of the drug that he felt in his system was occasional double vision if he made any swift movements.

However, aside from the drugs in his system and his current situation, he felt something deep inside of him cracking, as if his soul was falling apart. For every time that his master used and violated him, he felt a small piece of him die inside. He was becoming more docile and compliant, the complete opposite of who the old Edward was. Day by day, he felt himself slipping, edging closer to the precipice of despair. Sooner or later, something was going to give, and there would be no solid ground to stand on above the dark pit below.

That breaking point found him, as it does with most people, eventually.

He had noticed a difference in routine, something that broke the monotony of his new life in slavery. His master hadn't come in to see him all day after she had gotten up, which was unusual for her. Several hours seemed to go by with no sign of her. Then, out of nowhere, she walked into her bedroom, but she wasn't alone. A man was with her, roughly the same age as her. He was the exact spitting image of his master, blue eyes and all. He walked in casually, as if he owned the place.

"It's always good to see you, brother. Please, make yourself at home." It took Edward a moment to process that his master had been the one who had spoken. This man was her brother? If so, they must have been twins. Their uncanny resemblance to one another was indisputable. The boy lay on his left side on the bed, where he normally was, and watched the siblings interact. If this man was her brother, then that meant their whole family was involved in whatever underground black market business that had made him a victim.

The two exchanged pleasantries and conversed with one another, as if catching up. Just normal family stuff. It was almost surreal, talking to each other like a normal family with a slave lying not too far away. After hours of their conversation, they stood up, about to move to some other area of the house, until the man glanced over at the bed. Over at him.

It seemed like he did a double take. The man stared intently at Edward, like a vulture examining the vulnerability of its prey. Ed certainly felt like prey under that gaze, and he was compelled to turn over so that he faced away from that glare. But, he forced himself to lie still, afraid of what the consequences would be for that small act of defiance. The man licked his lips, which sent shivers down the boy's spine.

"Harley," he called, not looking away from the teen. "That boy over there? Is that who I think it is?"

His master glanced over at what her brother was looking at. She instantly broke out into a smile. "It sure is. He's quite popular in the military, you know." She answered him as if she was granted a great privilege.

"Oh, I do know," the man said, his voice husky and dripping with the slightest hint of lust. He practically slobbered like a dog, as if spotting a tasty bone. He finally tore his gaze away from the blond to look at his sister. "I know that he's your possession, but I hope you won't mind if I indulged myself a little."

His master pursed her lips, as if the request left a bad taste in her mouth. Finally, she sighed. "I suppose. Be delicate with him, though. He's still a child, after all. And besides, it would be rude not to share my toys." Her face stretched out into a more sadistic smile.

The man returned it. "Yes, incredibly rude." He turned back to the still form on the bed. "I'll meet back with you in a little bit. Is that alright with you?"

"That's fine by me," his master said, exiting the room. He was now left alone with this strange and creepy man that he didn't know. His heart started to race again, anxiety filling his gut. He had no idea what sort of twisted plan he had in store for the boy, and the familiar feeling of fear crept into his mind. He felt something inside him start to crack, finally giving way to all the stress he had endured.

The man slowly moved to the foot of the bed, and started removing his clothes. Edward stared at him all the while, keeping his gaze trained on the man's face. He struggled to maintain that stare after the man was completely naked, revealing all of his masculinity. To Ed, it was the one part of the body that promised immense pain and humiliation. The man eased down on the soft mattress, rolling the boy onto his back. His manic grin displayed perfectly that he had his prey trapped in a corner with nowhere to run.

"I know who you are, Edward Elric," the man said. "The Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People. The youngest State Alchemist to be accepted into the Amestrian military." He slowly inched his hand up Ed's abdomen, stopping at the opening of his cloak. He parted the cloth with his hand, exposing the boy to his rapidly swelling erection. "Many of us despised the military and their alchemists. They were always a thorn in our side. But you are especially the worst. All of us wanted to see you be brought down and broken. It seems we've finally achieved that."

The man traced the muscles on Edward's chest, the flesh quivering under his stomach. He could practically smell the fear coming from the teen. It aroused him and made his blood boil. "Personally," he continued, licking his lips again, "I've always wanted to be where I am right now, about to fuck you senseless." He flashed a wolfish grin. "It seems my wish came true."

This man was much bigger than Ricardo. There was no lubricant to make the exchange any less rough, either. Edward let out a scream that he tried to hold in. His hole was being torn into a bloody mess, a steady stream of crimson leaking from it. He no longer cared that tears escaped from his gold orbs. He screamed every time the man on top of him thrust into him, harder and deeper each time. The man came over and over inside the boy, relishing the release he gained from it. Eventually, he hit the delicate bundle of nerves inside the golden-haired teen, which sent a wave of not only pain, but also something much more horrifying: pleasure. His mind reeled, recoiling at his own response. He was openly sobbing now as his body acted of its own accord. Grunts of pain emitted from him, but his body reacted in a way that indicated he wanted more. He felt himself sinking to a new level of vermin and rot.

The man enjoyed every bit of his anguish. When he finally released the teen, he still had one more idea in mind. "Say, Edward," he asked, quite nonchalantly, considering the situation, "would you like to know what I taste like?"

The young alchemist's eyes widened in horror at the implication. However, he had no strength to struggle, so all he could do was shake his head. The man paid no mind to the refusal. "Oh, come now, don't be shy," he said. He grabbed the boy's jaw, and forced it open. Edward could do nothing to resist. He was helpless as the man eased his still throbbing length into his mouth. "Lick," he commanded. Ed remained still, horrified by what was about to happen. "Do it!" the man growled. "I don't think your master will be too pleased that you disobeyed me."

The man's threat was enough for Edward to comply. Carefully, he probed his tongue along the thick shaft, trying to find the places where the man elicited moans of pleasure from between his lips. At some point, he burst, spilling the disgusting liquid down the boy's gullet. The man thrust against his mouth, forcing the young alchemist to swallow every drop of his seed. As the experience of this wore on, whatever had started to break inside of the teen cracked just a little bit more. As soon as the man came inside his mouth, it finally broke under the pressure. As the man continued to thrust, Ed's eyes rolled back inside his head. The world as he knew it shattered around him, and darkness rushed up to consume him in its depths.

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It had been nearly two weeks, and Colonel Mustang was finally about to achieve his goal. The only thing he was afraid of was what sort of state he would find his quarry in. He imagined that, with what he had found at the warehouse, that nothing worse could happen to Edward. Sure, the boy would definitely have emotional scars from this, and he would do everything in his power to make sure the young blond would make it through. Then, he would concentrate on making the sick bastards pay for doing this to his young subordinate.

He mentally shook himself. Those kinds of thoughts made him lose his focus, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not when he was so close. They were approaching their destination, after all. The destination itself was more or less what he expected it to be. The terrorist organization that had kidnapped Edward was a vast human trafficking ring in the black market. Normally, whoever bought him would be some lowlife aristocrat who needed to get their daily fix. Their intel had finally led him to this address, in a town that was mostly for immigrants from the west.

Mustang glanced in the rearview mirror to take a look at the hulking suit of armor taking up most of the backseat of the car. He couldn't really tell what the younger Elric brother was thinking, since armor really didn't make any facial expressions. But he could tell that Alphonse was loaded with determination and worry for his older brother. In all honesty, the suit of armor probably had the same thoughts circulating through his nonexistent head as Mustang's. Normally, he would have made Alphonse stay in Central while he dealt with Fullmetal's rescue, but he had been completely adamant. One simply did not say no to Alphonse Elric, especially since he knew who had kidnapped Ed, and why.

Mustang hid a grimace. He hated to have children who were so young be exposed to these kinds of things. Grown adults would have cracked under the pressure, even, and Edward was no adult. However, the colonel used this as a means of importance to bring Fullmetal home. He just wished it wouldn't have taken this long.

"We're here, sir," Mustang's Second Lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, announced. She pulled up in front of a rather large mansion that was on the outskirts of the town. The military convoy behind her fell in line in front of the structure's well-kept lawn. As soon as the car stopped, Mustang exited the car, Alphonse following suit. As the rest of the convoy unloaded, he immediately began giving out orders. "Everyone, secure the perimeter around the complex. Hawkeye, Alphonse, you're with me."

"Right," Alphonse affirmed, falling in step behind the colonel. Hawkeye did the same, walking alongside the suit of armor as they approached the entrance of the mansion. However, before they reached it, a middle-aged man, with dark skin and graying hair, burst from the main double doors in a frenzy. "What are you doing on my property?!" he demanded. "There's nothing for you military dogs to do here. Leave now!"

With all the patience in the world, Mustang slowly approached the man. "Is this your home?" he asked.

"It damn well is my home! Now leave! You have no business here!" the man shouted in Mustang's face. The colonel continued to stare calmly at the man. "Actually, we do," he said. "We have authorization to search this property, from the Fuhrer himself. As citizens of Amestris, you would do well to comply."

The man bought the bluff, and, given no other choice, he led the military entourage into his home. In the main atrium, Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye began asking the man, who appeared to be the head of the household, some questions about him and his family. The man did everything he could possibly think of to sound convincingly vague as possible. While this was going on, Alphonse broke from the main group, looking around for other places to search. The man saw this and became upset by the armor's prodding. "Don't worry," Mustang assured the man. "He's just scoping out the area."

That, at least, let Alphonse to search in peace. He headed up the stairs and moved out of sight, towards the west side of the mansion. His clanking footsteps echoed down the long corridor. He looked around at all the expensive furnishings, wondering how someone could get this rich. It was really like nothing he had ever seen before. But he wasn't here to look at old antiques. No, his brother was here somewhere, he was sure of it. Moving along the hallway, he soon came to a large set of doors. They were bright mahogany, and reflected the sunlight coming from the windows from outside. Slowly, Alphonse opened the wooden door, not sure what exactly he would find.

The bedroom inside was just as grand as the rest of the house. The gold and red furnishings flattered each other nicely. The rug matched the red curtains. Alphonse's gaze rested on the large bed against the far wall. He walked over to it, calmly and collectively. Upon further inspection, there was a small lump curled on top of the bedspread. Alphonse reached out his leather hand to grip the lump and turn it over. What he saw made him gasp.

Edward looked entirely worse for wear. He was completely naked, a simple blue cloak the only thing that was covering him. His automail arm was missing, and his golden hair flowed freely, framing his face. His skin was pale, and he was sweating profusely. His breaths were deep and shallow, and his eyes were tightly screwed shut.

In other words, Edward looked like hell.

Nervous panic flooded through Alphonse. He quickly gathered Edward's frail body in his arms, drawing him close to his metal body. "Brother! Brother, wake up! It's me, Alphonse! It's me! Please, wake up!"

At first, Edward didn't seem to react to Alphonse's prodding. Then, slowly but surely, the young prodigy lifted his eyelids, revealing dull golden orbs. "Al... that really you?" he said weakly.

Alphonse's soul soared so high, he felt like he could touch the clouds. "Yes, brother, it's me. I'm here. So are Mustang and his team. We're here to take you home."

Edward's face scrunched up in confusion, staring incredulously at his little brother. "Home...?" he asked.

Alphonse nodded his helmet vigorously. "Yeah, home. We've all been so worried about you. We told Winry what happened, and she's waiting for us in Central. Aren't you excited to see her again?"

Ed continued to stare at the suit of armor until a small bit of recognition flashed behind his dull eyes. "Alphonse... it is you. It really is you." With that, the young alchemist burst into tears. Al did his best to cradle Edward against him as he turned his helmet in the direction of the door he came in. "Colonel! Lieutnenant! I found him! He's up here!" As soon as he yelled for them, running footsteps could be heard moving down the hall towards the bedroom. Mustang appeared in the doorway first. He saw the suit of armor cradling his sobbing older brother in his arms. As he approached, the scent of blood and other bodily fluids assaulted his nose. Quelling the queasiness that threatened to overwhelm him, the colonel focused his attention on Fullmetal's wellbeing.

"He needs to be taken to a hospital to get checked out. He may have injuries that we can't see." Alphonse nodded, returning his attention to his brother, who had immediately seized up at the word "hospital."

"Hospitals..." he muttered. "They'll have needles, won't they? I hate needles."

Alphonse stared at him. "You've always hated needles, brother."

Edward shook his head frantically. "No, no more needles. I don't want them! Please, Al, no more needles!" The last sentence reached a higher pitch, taking on a more desperate tone. It took Al and Mustang by surprise. This was nothing like the Edward that they knew. This new Edward was like a child, jumping at shadows in the darkness. Just what had happened to make him act like this?

For Mustang, he could make a few guesses. Judging by Fullmetal's shivering demeanor, he had been forced to take harmful drugs in the duration of his capture. Most likely, he was addicted to them. The thought made his stomach start to churn in anger. To think that these monsters would do this to a child. Especially with what he found at the warehouse...

Mustang berated himself before any more red started to cloud his vision. He could deal with that later. Right now, he had to get Fullmetal to a hospital. But just as he was about to turn to walk out of the room, a door that was behind and to the right of them opened. A man who was wearing nothing but trousers, leaving his chest bare, walked calmly out of the adjoining bathroom. His dark skin and blue eyes matched with the familial ties of the middle-aged man back in the other room. "Well, well, well," he said. "Looks like we have company."

Edward tensed up at the sound of the voice. He whimpered in fear, and tried to curl himself more into Alphonse's steel body. At the sight of it, the man smirked. "Seems as though the military blew out our operation. That's too bad. You and I were having so much fun together, weren't we, Edward?" His grin reminded Alphonse of a circling vulture.

"That's enough. Who are you?" Mustang growled, his full attention on the man. The immigrant's grin only grew wider. "Well, Colonel, congratulations. How does it feel to finally find the ones who took your precious subordinate?"

Mustang grit his teeth. He knew what the man was trying to do. He would not let himself give in to his own emotions that easily. Although, it was getting harder by the second since the bastard wouldn't stop talking. "You know, Colonel," the man continued, running his fingers through his hair, "the people out here don't really take kindly to how you military dogs treat us. All of your petty skirmishes with our people made you feel as though you could do whatever the hell you wanted. Do you know about the numbers upon numbers of our race that were tortured and raped by the Amestrians?" The man's voice had raised in anger, as if he were about to lose it and attack them right then and there. But he was able to compose himself.

"No, of course you wouldn't," the man continued. "None of you even cared. The government never decided to pay any reparations for us. We were left to ourselves, with no justice served. So," the man held out his hand in a gesture to indicate Edward being cradled in his brother's arms, "with the opportunity that I was presented with, I decided to return the favor."

It took everything Mustang had to keep it together. The man was driving the nails into his own coffin. If he didn't shut up, the only thing that would be coming out of his mouth would be screams. He tipped over the edge with the man's last statement. "I have to tell you, Colonel," he said. "He was a great fuck."

Mustang was about to incinerate the man, imagining it as he touched his gloved forefinger with his thumb. However, before he could snap, the man staggered, as if he was hit. His falling body revealed that Hawkeye had hit him over the head with the butt of her gun. "I just couldn't stand to listen to him any longer," she explained, although there was also a different reason for her actions, as was evident in her eyes.

Mustang nodded towards her as she put the man in handcuffs. "We have Fullmetal. He needs to be taken to the hospital," he told her.

"The convoy's still waiting outside," she said.

"I'll tell them to stand down," he answered, approaching to walk past her, Alphonse in tow, still holding a trembling Edward in his arms. "In the meantime," he continued, glancing down at the unconscious man, "take care of him."

Hawkeye saluted, bending down to collect her arrest while Mustang, Alphonse, and Edward exited the house, loading the young prodigy in an ambulance to be taken to the nearest hospital.

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Author's Note: The next chapter is the last part in this story. It will be more of an epilogue. It'll be a shorter chapter.

If line breaks aren't centered, it's because I'm posting from my dad's laptop, and it doesn't save the line breaks.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

-The_Mayflower