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

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It had been three weeks since Colonel Mustang had felt something akin to hope. Ever since Alphonse Elric had called him asking if Edward was still at his office, and informing the armored boy that, no, the young alchemist hadn't been in all day, he had developed a building feeling of worry and hopelessness. With each day that passed where Fullmetal was still missing, he found it harder and harder to fall asleep at night, his imagination running wild. He couldn't stop thinking about what could be happening to his younger subordinate. There was no letter of ransom sent to his desk, so he was left in the dark on Ed's current condition. He soon developed heavy bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. The investigation that was currently ongoing had turned up nothing fruitful.

He should have tried harder to protect the boy. He wouldn't allow himself to believe that he would find Edward's corpse tossed behind some abandoned alley months later. He couldn't fail him like that, not after what he and his brother had been through. That's why he was so eager that his team had found their first solid lead in days.

At least that meant that Ed was still alive. However, he was still afraid of what state the young alchemist would be in once he found him.

Mustang stepped out of the black military vehicle, which was parked right outside what appeared to be a crack den, located in the dirty slums of Central. The sun was blocked out by heavy rainclouds, the rain itself pelting down on his tall form. He wore his long black overcoat over his military uniform because of the foul weather. His raven locks were soon soaked from the heavy downpour.

The Fuhrer had authorized a team of soldiers to be sent to shut down the crack house. The perimeter of it was secured, and soldiers had begun to move in. Nodding to his second lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, he made his way towards the steps that led down to the door to the basement, the well that housed the crack den. Hawkeye, Breda, and Havoc followed him, while Fuery and Falman were left outside.

When they entered, the room had the acrid tang of smoke in the air. It was a lot even to Jean, who smoked a cigarette three times a day. He coughed and spluttered as they entered the atmosphere of the crack den. "Jesus," he said out loud, "how can people breathe in this stuff?"

The soldiers on the rescue team flooded into the den and started making arrests. As people were cleared out, the room became less crowded, and Mustang could survey their surroundings. There were places set up on the floor where people smoked drugs from pots that were sitting on stands. The pipes in the pots were abandoned as people were interrupted from inhaling these drugs as they were arrested and pulled outside. After scanning around the room, Mustang turned to Hawkeye. "Where's the man who runs this place?"

The skilled markswoman looked around before pointing to a door at the back of the room and to the right. "That's probably his office. He may still be in there, so I suggest we exercise caution."

Mustang nodded to her. "Breda, Havoc, keep your guard up. We have no idea what this man is capable of. We best be ready."

"You got it, boss," Breda said, giving a thumbs-up. Havoc simply nodded. Without another word, the four soldiers made their way to the office door. Mustang reached out and turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked. He swung the door open inwardly. The office beyond was revealed to be nothing extraordinary. It was painfully small, not allowing much room to move around. It was really messy, boxes stacked along the walls of the room. There were shelves on the wall above and behind the desk, cluttered with high stacks of papers and other objects. A radio was somehow squeezed among the stacks of junk. The desk itself was wooden, and just as messy. More papers were stacked on the surface, surrounding the small workspace that was almost too small to actually get any work done.

Upon opening the door, this was not the only sight that the soldiers were greeted with. In the center of the room stood a middle-aged man, probably only ten or more years older than Mustang. He was wearing a simple shirt and pair of pants. He wasn't entirely muscular, but he looked like he had a few pounds to throw around. He had a shadow of a beard growing on his face, some of the hairs flecked with gray. His black hair also had streaks of gray running through it. His gray eyes widened in surprise when he saw his office door swing open, and four military soldiers were standing on the other side.

Only a split-second passed before the man charged forward, hoping to barrel past them and make his getaway. He managed to get past Mustang, but he was stopped short by Breda and Havoc, who recovered themselves quickly. They easily wrestled the man to the floor. The man continued to struggle, but he stopped as soon as Hawkeye pulled out her gun and trained it at his face.

"Don't move, you bastard," Havoc hissed in the man's ear. The man nodded, and Breda and Havoc eased themselves up off of him. Hawkeye quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and secured them around the man's wrists. She pulled him to his feet, and looked back at Mustang. "I'll take him outside," she said. "Keep searching in there. There's bound to be something." The colonel nodded at her, and she walked off with her arrest.

Breda and Havoc followed Mustang inside the office, beginning their search for any clues of the whereabouts of the Fullmetal Alchemist. After thirty minutes of looking in every nook and cranny, Mustang was about ready to give up and interrogate the man who was in the office. "It doesn't look like he's here, Chief," Havoc said. "Maybe we were wrong."

Mustang put a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead. No, they couldn't be wrong. This was the strongest lead they had. There had to be something. With his eyes closed, the colonel let out a long, tired sigh. When he opened his eyes again, something glinted from the ceiling light, the fan lazily trailing its blades around it in its rotation. He made his way over to the left wall, peering in between the spaces of boxes that were stacked there. He stuck his hand in and felt it. It was a round doorknob.

Mustang stepped back. "Breda, Havoc, help me move these," he ordered, gesturing to the stacked boxes. Breda frowned as he got closer. "Did you find something?" he asked.

The colonel nodded. "I think there's a door behind them," he confirmed. Starting from the top, the three male soldiers took hold of the cardboard boxes and set them off to the side, making sure not to topple the stack. Each box was really heavy, and Mustang didn't take the time to wonder what was in them. He was purely focused on this one task.

After all the boxes had been cleared away, Mustang was relieved to discover that he had been right, that there was a door hidden behind all the clutter. Eagerly, he reached for the doorknob again, but it resisted when he turned it. He frowned in irritation. Locked. He quickly slipped on one of his ignition gloves, melting the lock with a precise snap of his fingers. After he pocketed the glove, he turned the knob again to have it give way. The door swung inward. Beyond it was darkness.

Mustang turned to the two soldiers beside him. "Wait out here and keep watch. I don't know what I'll find in there, but I may need help if it's who we're looking for." Havoc and Breda nodded grimly in understanding. With that, Mustang stepped inside the room.

There was a light on the ceiling of what appeared to be a small entryway to another room. Mustang reached up to pull on the string attached to it, illuminating a paper sliding door directly in front of him. He steeled himself, preparing for whatever may be behind it. With slow caution, he gripped the handle in his hand, and slid open the door.

The stench hit him full force. He audibly gagged and choked, a wave of nausea threatening to send bile up his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, the smell making them sting. He coughed some more before composing himself. When he finally opened his eyes to take in the sight before him, he felt them widen in shock and horror.

The stains on the floor were taking up most of the carpet. Blood, both dried and fresh, as well as more foul bodily fluids, was what had contributed to the smell. But Mustang didn't pay much attention to that. It was all background scenery. His focus was on the small, prone form lying in the middle of the room, gagged and blindfolded, his arms tied underneath him, completely naked. His blond hair flowed freely around his face.

"Edward!" Mustang exclaimed in shock. God damn it, he should have tried harder to protect him. From the evidence of what he could see, the things that were done in this room... to Edward, no less... He shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, refusing to dwell on them. Right now, he had the get the boy out of there.

"Oh my god, Edward!" Mustang exclaimed again as he rushed forward to his subordinate's side. He quickly dropped to his knees next to the young prodigy. He reached out to him in order to release him from his bonds.

Ed must have heard him approach, but didn't recognize his voice. He started struggling, moving as far away from the colonel as possible. However, the rope that was tied to the ring attached to the floor kept him from moving far. Despite this, he continued to struggle, pleading and whimpering behind the gag, thinking that it was someone coming to hurt him again. The colonel noticed that Ed had large and ugly bruises on his flesh arm and neck. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he could guess that they were the sites of puncture wounds. Mustang's eyes travelled down, and he almost vomited in disgust at the blood that caked the boy's inner thighs.

The older man reached out his hands to take hold of Edward, trying to get him to calm down and stay still. "Ed, listen. It's me, Mustang. It's just me. I'm here to get you out." At the sound of the colonel's voice, Ed stilled. It seemed too good to be true. The trembling boy let the hands on his shoulder roll him over onto his back. With no more time to waste, Mustang reached under his head to pull at the knot of the gag. With a bit of effort, the white cloth came loose, and the colonel pulled it from Ed's mouth.

"Colonel, is that really you?" the boy asked, voice raspy and strained. Mustang realized that the child's voice had grown hoarse, most likely from screaming. "Yes, it's really me," the colonel said, the sight of his youngest subordinate in such a fragile state making him feel guilty. "We're gonna get you out of here, don't worry." He reached again behind the prodigy's head to get at the knot of the blindfold. It was a bit more tricky since the knot was caught in Ed's hair, but he managed to pull it loose after some tugging. He pulled the white cloth away to reveal the boy's wide and disbelieving eyes underneath.

Mustang held in a tiny gasp. Ed's expression was drawn and fearful, as if not believing what he was seeing. His pupils were dilated, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying. The young alchemist was assessing his face, making sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he looked around, taking in his surroundings. Mustang realized that this was probably the first time that Edward had seen the room he was trapped in with his own eyes. It pained the colonel to see him like this. He blamed the bastards who had dared to do this to the boy, but he also blamed himself, for not doing everything he could to protect him from this kind of nightmare.

The raven-haired man slowly wriggled his arm underneath Ed's shoulders. "Here, let's sit you up," he said, lifting the boy into a sitting position. Edward winced as he sat up, his weight shifting to his rear for the first time in a long while. Mustang inspected the knot tying Ed's arms behind his back. The knot was tight and convoluted. He wouldn't be able to pick it apart by hand. Slowly, so that Edward couldn't see, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. Flicking it open, he sawed at the knot. When the small blade cut through the thick rope, the rest of the boy's bindings fell away. Edward drew his arms in front of him, rubbing his sore flesh arm.

"There," Mustang declared. "That feels better, doesn't it?" He was trying his best to stay in a light mood, despite the crushing heartache that enveloped inside him. This boy had been through too much to have something like this happen to him. It just wasn't fair.

To the colonel's surprise, after he spoke, Edward launched himself at his chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He clung to Mustang for dear life, as if the boy was going to be taken again if he let go. Tears started falling down his cheeks as he began to sob. "I thought you were never going to find me," he choked out before breaking down. Mustang soon got over his dismay, and enveloped the sobbing teen in his embrace. He felt a surge of parental protectiveness and rage rush through him. He had the feeling that he needed to protect the boy from anything that wished to harm him. "It's alright, Edward," he soothed. "Everything's going to be okay." If only he could believe that himself.

After a little while, Edward pulled away, rubbing away the tears from his eyes. Mustang wasn't used to seeing the teen acting so scared. He wished he could take away the anguish the boy was feeling. With a forlorn look in his eyes, Mustang asked, "Can you walk?"

Edward nodded. "But I may need help," he admitted. The colonel understood. Ed's pride was no longer present enough to make him feel shame in asking for help. He shrugged off his overcoat and draped it around the boy's shoulders. The young alchemist immediately drew it around himself to hide his exposed form.

Mustang stood up to bend down beside Edward, hooking his hands underneath the boy's arms. "Here, let's get you up," he said, as he pulled the young prodigy to his feet. The boy stumbled a bit before regaining his footing, clearly not used to using his legs for a long time. The colonel circled his arm around the teen's shoulders, keeping him steady.

Slowly, Mustang guided the traumatized boy out of that godforsaken room. The older man hoped he would never have to look at it again. Edward hissed and shielded his eyes with his hand as they stepped into the small entryway in the office, his eyes coming into contact with the first glimmer of light he'd seen for awhile. As they continued into the office, the two soldiers of Mustang's team gasped at the sight of the colonel supporting his young charge through the open doorway.

"You found the Chief," Havoc exclaimed excitedly. Breda, however, remained silent, taking in the broken and trembling boy that was standing before them. He watched as the young alchemist looked between the two male soldiers, before turning further into the colonel. Havoc realized the state Edward was in and his face fell. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Mustang was the one who answered. "I need to get him outside, into some fresh air," he stated. Havoc didn't break his gaze away from Ed. "Sure, boss," he replied absently, not really paying attention. "You two, go get Falman and Fuery and start combing through this place. Gather as much information as you can about the guy who owns it." The two men saluted and rushed outside, following through on the colonel's command.

The two rushed by them again as they made it outside, Falman and Fuery trailing behind them. The rain had started to stop, the last few drops falling before the sun poked its rays out from between the clouds. As they distanced themselves from the building, several soldiers noticed the two making their way across the street towards the convoy of cars parked there. Hawkeye, who was keeping watch over her arrest from inside the office, was off to the side, and she noticed the soldiers making a commotion. She followed where everyone was staring and pointing, and was surprised to find the colonel making his way over towards the ambulance that was on site while he was supporting a weak and disheveled Edward. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. She felt a huge weight lift itself off her shoulders, and she let out a huge sigh.

The man she was keeping watch over noticed the commotion too. He quickly followed the markswoman's gaze, his eyes falling on the Fullmetal Alchemist. Once he saw the young teen, he stood up to propel himself at the two who were a few feet away. Hawkeye noticed this in time, and she grabbed the man before he could go any farther. He pulled against her, trying to shake her grip as he began to yell. "He's mine, you bastards! You can't have him!"

At the sound of the man's voice, Edward stopped in his tracks. He knew that voice. His heart began to beat faster, the way it always did when that door had slid open, signaling the start of more humiliating and painful torment. His eyes widened in fear, his pupils shrinking.

The man continued to struggle in Hawkeye's grip. Frustrated, he turned his head to glare at her. "Let go of me, you bitch! No one is allowed to touch him but me!" As he strained and pulled, Edward slowly lifted his head to look in the direction of the voice. "My pretty little sunflower..." That voice echoed in his head, the source of his pain and nightmare. Ed stared, terror in his eyes, at the man who had used him, violated him, who had scarred him so badly that he would never feel the same again.

Hawkeye couldn't get the man to calm down, so she drew her gun and slammed it against the back of his neck. He slumped forward, unconscious. She lifted the man up with quite a bit of effort before stuffing him into the back of a military vehicle. She climbed in the front and started the engine. Ed continued to stare at the man, fear still evident in his expression. He was jerked back to reality when the colonel tugged on his shoulders. "Here, Edward," Mustang said, who had been watching the whole spectacle unfold. "We need to get you to the hospital."

The medics rushed out to load Edward into the ambulance. They sat him at the edge of the back of the vehicle, examining him for any immediate injuries. Mustang stood close by and watched. The young alchemist seemed less on edge when the colonel was close. The medics finished checking over the boy, and prepared him to be loaded onto the ambulance. The older man began to turn away. "I'll see you at the hospital, Edward," he said. He stopped when he felt a hand grab a hold of his wrist. Surprised, he turned around to find the young boy reaching out with his automail arm, preventing him from walking away. There was fear in his eyes.

"Please, Mustang, don't leave.I don't wanna be alone," Ed said in a very small voice. The boy was pleading for him to stay, and the sight of him trembling and afraid couldn't make Mustang say no. He was a child who needed to feel safe. The medics allowed him to sit inside the back of the ambulance while they helped the young prodigy onto a gurney next to the colonel. One medic stayed in the back while the other two went up front to start the ambulance on its way. Ed refused to let go of Mustang's hand while the medic started assessing his vitals. He soon fell asleep from the rumble of the moving vehicle. The colonel rode with his subordinate all the way to the hospital.

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Author's Note: I lied, this story is actually gonna have six parts, not five. I hope there was no pointless scene setting in this chapter. I try not to be boring.

I'm stinky and sweaty because I've been outside all morning under the hot, hot sun. None of you probably wanted to know that.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

-The_Mayflower