A/N: Yeah, so this is my first strictly FMA fanfic... Also my first time attempting to write Envy. In first person. This is gonna be interesting. I really hope he's not OOC, 'cause I like his character and I hope I didn't butcher him. XP This will contain OCs and AU material eventually. I consider it my duty as a fangirl to give happy endings to the characters that I feel should have gotten one. Envy is one of those characters, in my opinion.

This also might possibly contain spoilers for Brotherhood in later chapters, depending on how it goes.

Let me know what you think. If I need to fix anything (especially character accuracy), feel free to tell me in a review and I'll see what I can do! :D Hope you enjoy!

~Penelope

"Out of here, slut!"

So, stalking the pipsqueak and his tin can was always fun, sure. But it was a little hard to do when some random shop owner literally chucked a girl off his store steps straight into your arms. I have to admit, while I'm not usually caught off guard, I was then and didn't exactly enjoy collapsing onto the dusty road in a heap.

Stupid guy; did humans always disregard the personal safety of random passersby by randomly throwing a person over them?

"I don't ever want to see your face in here again!" the shop owner raged before he stalked back into his building, slamming his shop door behind him with the harsh jangle of obnoxious bells. Cheery fellow, eh?

If only I could give away my identity at the moment; that human would regret crossing a homunculus, and me, Envy, in particular.

Besides, who just up and threw a person anyway?

Actually… I probably shouldn't ask that.

Speak of the person, the girl – well, woman, actually, if I wanted to be particular, but who was particular? – scrambled to shove herself off me and ended up dumping me back in the dirt in the process. I knocked my head back against the road. Uh, ow?

"I am so sorry!" she sputtered, grabbing my arm and dragging me to my feet without my consent. "I-I didn't mean…"

Didn't mean to? Pah! As if she had a choice. It's not as if she threw herself out of that shop. Why the heck was she apologizing to me? It was all I could do not to shake my head at the ridiculous compulsions humans seemed to possess. Like apologizing for circumstances they themselves had no control over.

"Hey, relax," I said as nonchalantly as I could, while at the same time, glancing down the road to try and spot my quarry. Unfortunately, it looked like the Elrics had disappeared down some side street. Dang. Now I had to find them all over again. It had taken me ages to track them down to Rush Valley!

Burning down this stupid – what was it, a barber's? – shop in the dead of night was seeming all the more appealing. Why did humans need a shop to get their hair cut in, anyway? Why couldn't the guy just go to their houses? Or cut hair in his living room? I mean, who needed a barber shop?

"Not your fault," I continued to placate the redhead – actually, the really redhead. Boy, she looked like a matchstick. It was almost unnatural. Come to think of it, I really didn't see too many redheads around. Hmm, never thought of that before… I wonder why that is.

So, wait, that guy called her 'slut'. With her long sleeved turtleneck, simple leather slacks, and loose black vest, and her hair in a chaste braid, she really didn't look like one. Unless, for some reason, humans – wait a sec, she was wearing a turtleneck and a black vest in a desert?

What the heck?

She didn't really notice my look of befuddlement; she actually seemed a bit distracted, rubbing her wrists and fidgeting as she looked me over. "You're all dusty…"

That was sort of a 'no duh' statement, but I managed to hold my tongue. Really, I had to congratulate myself. Normally, I couldn't go this long without some sort of sarcastic comment or barbed prodding at somebody, but that might've just been because of my trying to act normal. Yeah, that was probably it.

I looked down at my disguise – a lanky teen in baggy cargos, sneakers, white tank and jean vest. True enough, dust marked a good portion of my clothes, and I could feel it lining the back of my arms and neck, sifting through the roots of my artificial short blond hair. Yeck. Without really thinking about it, I started dusting myself off.

"It would seem I am," I muttered.

"Here, let me help." She 'aided' me by swiping the dust off my arms and back. With what the store owner called her, I half-expected some flirty finger brushes or something, but she actually avoided anything awkward and left brushing off the dirt on my pants to me.

Strange. But I suppose that's just humans, eh?

"Um… Is there… I mean, can I make it up to you, or…? Something? You could… I don't know, come for dinner or something."

Now, I didn't think she was being funny. Honestly, my disguise had to be at least three years younger than she looked. And with those haggard lines under her sharp green eyes, she looked even older, so I dunno, maybe that was throwing me off. She seemed flustered still, but not surprised, or even embarrassed. Maybe a little exasperated. Maybe a little hurried.

"We don't have much, but maybe it could make up for landing on you…"

Again, as if she had a choice… Wait, 'we'? Who the heck was 'we'?

"Um…" I looked down the street again. No, the Elric brothers were long gone. I'd have to find them again… but dinner did sound nice. And if my intel was correct, the pipsqueak was here for some repairs on his automail, so he'd probably be here for a while. At least for the night. Especially since his girly friend lived and worked here and would probably insist. And even if they did leave before then, I could always hunt down that pretty blonde and erm… persuade her to kindly let me know where her little friends (okay, so only one of them was really 'little') were headed.

"Sure," I finally said, plastering a smile over my face. Sometimes a little sickening sweetness was just enough to make humans think you were enthusiastic about something.

But her return smile was hesitated, and stiff. She noticed. Hm, so she wasn't one of those 'friendly' types.

She didn't say anything else before she started trudging down the crowded street. And when I say crowded, I mean, crowded. Rush Valley certainly wasn't a tourist hotspot for nothing. For whatever reason, normal people had a fascination with the abnormal, and it seemed that included a whole town full of people sporting automail prosthetics. Both locals and visitors littered the street like a parade or something.

The morbid thought of all those automail limbs simultaneously combusting and turning the lively crowds into piles of corpses crossed my mind and made me grin. Now, that would be a sight indeed. Although, it was never as fun when something interesting like that happened and I wasn't behind it… So, maybe they wouldn't combust. I'd just blow them all up.

Yeah. That's it.

Rather quickly, we left the busy business area and came to a neighborhood up along one of the bluffs that surrounded the area. Most of the houses were modest in size with tin or flat roofs and bright painted doors. They were in pretty good condition; after all, in a tourist town full of greasy freaks, you'd want to keep your neighborhoods nice and attractive. Humans had a knack for the superficial.

But as they went further into the shadow of the bluff, the houses got poorer looking, and it didn't take long for me to get that we were now in the slums. My eyebrows rose as the neat little dollhouses were replaced by rusty dusty shacks and lean-tos. They weren't all bad… power lines swung between them all and some decent vehicles parked outside some of them, but that might've been just because this town seemed to be obsessed with the mechanical. Some apparently took better care of their cars than their houses.

How stupid.

At a particularly small house, the lady turned and headed for the door. Before she got there, she stopped in her tracks, almost making me run into her back.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Say, kid, what's your name?"

Kid. Ha! At 140-plus years old? She only wished.

"En…" I sputtered to a halt and clamped my mouth shut. Crud, that was stupid. Uuummmm… name? What was my name, my alias?

She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Uh… N." That worked, didn't it? Odd, granted, but there were strange parents out there who named their kids strange names. Strange names like Envy, Lust, and Gluttony. Unfortunately, those particular names might be recognized, so I kinda had to stick with something… inconspicuous.

"N, huh? Interesting." Her eyebrows furrowed. "My name's Anita."

Anita. Okay, I will log that away for later impersonation.

I could hear the trickling sound of music even before she opened the door, but when she did so, it got all the louder. With the occasional 'pop-pop' from the record needle, what sounded like an orchestra lulled out an eerie melody of wind instruments and French horns. When a woman's youthful falsetto began singing, a naturally young voice joined it.

"There is a castle on a cloud

I like to go there in my sleep

Aren't any floors for me to sweep

Not in my castle on the cloud

There is a room that's full of toys

There are a hundred boys and girls

Nobody shouts or talks too loud

Not in my castle on a cloud

There is a lady all in white

Holds me and sings a lullaby

She's nice to see and she's soft to touch

She says 'Cosette' (the real kid inserted 'Christian') I love you very much.'

I know a place where no one's lost

I know a place where no one cries

Crying at all is not allowed

Not in my castle on a cloud.*"

Anita had crept in as the orchestra continued and the boy – it was obviously a boy by the name, but a little one by the difficulty telling just by the voice – kept humming along. Ha, how quaint. Really, humans were too cute sometimes. To think that neither of these people had any idea that they'd let a homunculus into their shabby little home! Maybe I'd have some fun this evening after all. Sure, it was only two… but I could probably dent a few houses nearby as well and then get out before the coppers showed up.

"You're playing that again, Chris?" Anita leaned on the doorframe of what looked like a kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. Due to my falsified height, I didn't even have to stand on my toes to see over her shoulder.

In the middle of the room, a little kid with big green eyes and coal-black hair sat cross-legged, sliding two ragged model battleships across the floor. They were metal, by the rust; didn't this lady know that if those things cut the boy, he'd die of tetanus? Obviously not.

The kid looked up with his bright eyes and blinked at us like an owl. He blushed and ducked his head. "Yes, mommy…"

D'aw, how adorable humans were. Bleck. I tried not to cringe too much.

"It's your favorite isn't it?" With a smile in her voice, Anita crossed the room to the offending record player and turned it off as the song switched.

"Yes, it is." Fiddling with one of his ships, the kid – Christian – stared up at me with curiosity that it seemed only kids could pull off. You could drown in the wonder of a single kid's stare. Not when they were dead, though. Wonder didn't matter when your soul left your body and your eyes stared unseeing at empty air.

Unfortunately, kids were also a lot more intuitive than adults. It was like humans were smarter when they were younger and then something along the way made them incredibly stupid. And that was why Christian's thin eyebrows swooped in a frown and he scrambled to his feet, scampering over to his mother. Or at least, I was assuming she was his mother – though, I didn't see any wedding ring or signs of a man's presence in the house. No, everything was too clean and, well, girly. Typical, though; probably another broken family to add to the endless list. Pathetic.

"Mommy…" the boy whimpered, tugging at her vest. "Who's that?"

"Hm?" Anita glanced down and then back at me. "Oh, that's Mr. N. He's staying for dinner!"

Mr.? Well, that was new! I'd never been called 'Mr.' before. A human with manners! Quite the change from that rude little pipsqueak. I gave the kid a casual wave, hoping to put him at ease. It would be no fun if he got his pretty mummy suspicious of me.

Christian hid behind his mom's leg, peering at me with one eye and a pouty lip. I snickered.

"Sweetie, let me go so I can make dinner," Anita chuckled, oblivious to our interaction. It really was funny how ignorant humans were. She patted the kid's head and went over to the small kitchen corner. "Please, N, take a seat, make yourself comfortable." She paused on the other side of the corner, making a face. "And again, I'm sorry for landing on you."

I shrugged as I flopped down onto the overstuffed couch, spreading my arms out over the back. "No problem. No permanent harm done." Besides, if I were Greed (the traitorous wretch), having a pretty thing like her land on top of me would actually be quite enjoyable.

But only if I were Greed. He acted like a human. It made me sick.

It didn't take long for the smell of some sort of salted meat and vegetables to start wafting around the house. Christian crept back to his ships, and stared up at me with those big eyes. I stared back, and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Why do you have a letter name?"

A letter name? So, kids' intuition was paid for in grammar skills and comprehension. Equivalent exchange? "Um… because my parents named me that." Why else was a human named anything?

"Oh… My name's Christian."

"That's… nice." Really, it was hard to act normal around a kid. I seriously didn't want to keep this up for long…

"How'd you meet my mom?"

I blinked. "Um… long story."

"Mommy says that whenever she doesn't want to explain."

I laughed harshly. Intuition indeed. "Does she, now?"

"Yeah. How old are you?"

Look at this, I was getting the third degree from a toddler. "Um, eighteen." Close enough estimation for my disguise, I'd say.

"I'm four."

"Wow," I said without enthusiasm.

"Mommy's twenty."

Oh, so she wasn't as old as she looked. Wow… wait… Holy… she was sixteen when she had the kid? Did humans usually marry that young? I mean, they usually recommended marriage before kids, right?

That store owner and his parting words rung through my head. Maybe there was some merit to that…

But this really didn't look like a harlot's den. Especially with a four-year-old? Maybe she did her business elsewhere…

Suddenly, the situation seemed a bit more awkward than before. Oh, well. I was gonna kill them anyway; might as well pretend like I didn't know anything and let them have a nice last meal.

Or, at least, that's what I had planned. Until somebody pounded on the door, and then barged right in.

Oh, crud. Cops.

And some guy in a tacky suit. A fat guy. He looked like a well-dressed bowling ball, actually. I tried not to snicker.

Anita almost dropped the pan she was carrying over to the counter, and gingerly set it down before stomping around the island to confront them. "What do you think you're doing!?"

"What I should have done years ago, my dear," oozed the fat man with a sick smile that seemed pretty familiar. Oh, right, that was my smile, my thing. He didn't do it justice. He waved a piece of yellow paper in Anita's face. "Now get out."

"E-Evicted!? Wha – no!"

Ooh, now this was interesting. I hid my smirk behind a hand. I felt Christian's eyes on me, and tried my best to look concerned.

"Yesssss, deary," Fatty sing-songed. "You haven't paid your rent in two months!"

"I can't very well pay my rent if I don't have a job!" Anita snapped, and I clenched my teeth to keep from laughing. Oh, look, there was the sound of the noose tightening around her pretty little neck!

"Of course! And you can't very well live in another man's house if you don't pay the rent! Now OUT! Before I have my officer friends drag you out."

Humans were so petty, weren't they? Throwing somebody out of a house for being poor. Actually, living in a house that didn't belong to them in the first place! If Anita just made herself a decent living and got her own place, she wouldn't be in this situation. Even less so if she hadn't gone and had a kid, an extra mouth to feed, not to mention another human on this planet without a decent family. Contributing to the issues of the future – intelligent.

"You have to let me gather my things!" the woman blurted, losing some of her fury to anxiety. How amusing.

"Oh, no, your things belong to me now, too. See, you haven't paid your rent or utilities OR my loans. The bank is transferring your assets over to me to pay your debts – which means everything under this roof except for you, your brat, and your latest toy."

Toy? I frowned. What made him think I was this human's toy? Oh, right… I was sitting in a prostitute's house. Doi.

"No! You can't do this!" Anita clutched her kid's hand when he hid beside her.

"Can and am! Get her out of here; the new renters are ready to move in."

Woooowww, and she even had to leave her dinner on the stove! The new renters just got free food! Is this how humans always dealt with situations like these?

"All right, out!" an officer bellowed and marched up to Anita. He grabbed her arm, and threw her toward the door.

All right. I figured it was time to make my big reveal, considering I was getting bored. It was so cliché, it was physically painful. Both sides were to blame and humans were just so disgustingly corrupted. I'd fix this right quick.

"Okay, fellas," I drawled, standing up and putting my hands on my hips with a smirk. "Pay close attention now."

"N, what are you doing?" Anita breathed, frowning, while the officers just glared at me for interrupting.

"Actually, girly, the name's Envy the Jealous. I'm a-"

"It's one of the homunculi that the military's on the lookout for!" one of the other officers blurted. "That's the name – Envy!"

"Homunculi? They're just ghost stories!" Fatty grumped.

I cackled. "Ooh, ghost stories, that's a new one! Don't you know that most stories base off some sort of truth?" With that and a relieved sigh, I shapeshifted back into the form I preferred. The attractive one. It felt good to get out of the dusty cargos and denim; humans really chose the most cumbersome clothing.

As my long, dark hair fell back over my shoulders, I snickered and gave a mock bow. "A pleasure, I'm sure. For now, though, I think you officers are being awful unfair. Kicking a poor girl out of her home, tsk, tsk."

"You can't be serious!" the fat one sputtered.

"Shut up, tubby. You're just as bad. You humans really are pathetic, you know? You squabble over pointless little things like money and debts and past slights – what does that do for you, eh? I'd say it kills." Breaking false bones, I stretched my other pair of arms out of my ribcage, making some of the officers gasp and shudder. Oh, yes, I liked that sound, the sound of rising fear. I slammed my four hands into the floor, digging my claws into the old wood and feeling myself rise. My skin turned green. Oh, I loved doing this. The look of shock and terror on peoples' faces was absolutely priceless!

True enough, as I rose to break through the ceiling into the second floor, all the humans in the house scrambled to get out and stumbled into the street. I unleashed my signature roar, and relished in the sound of their screams. Oh, YES! This feeling! This feeling of power! I FED on it! I LIVED off it! The knowledge that those gazing upon me – humans – were trembling in their shoes, their bones rattling, their hearts failing them, and I was the one causing it! I! ME! All me! Puny humans, with their guns and armies and advanced weaponry and still they shook in fear at the mere sight of me! PATHETIC!

"That's right!" I bellowed, laughing. "Quake in fear, tiny beings!" With one lurch, the house fell apart under me, and the nearby houses tumbled and dented when I brushed past them.

"Heaven have mercy!" Fatty squealed and then began running – well, as much as a human of his size can run – back toward the city. Several officers followed suit – cowards! They didn't even try opening fire!

"Look at that, tubby!" I called after them, my voice shattering nearby windows. I LOVED this! "Now you don't have to worry about your debt and investment in this tiny little house! Neither do you, girly! Problem solved! BOTH of you lose!"

Christian was crying. A pathetic mess of tears that only human children could sink to. I didn't bothering holding back my laughter anymore.

"Cry away, kid! Tears won't do nothing for you! You'd better learn real quick that this life you're living? It's cruel! Heartless! Unfair! That is what it means to be human, isn't it? The military preaches 'equivalent exchange' like a prayer, but that's really not what this world revolves around, is it?" I crushed a house under my feet, and toppled another with one swing of my tail. "NO! Everyone SUFFERS! Everyone DIES! The past, the wrongs, the deaths rule the present and the future! THAT is life's truth!"

"Monster!" one of the last remaining officers shouted, and fired at the wailing faces that groped from my hide. I felt the searing pain and snarled, but soon felt the soothing warmth of my regeneration.

Upon seeing that, they fled, along with the potential renters. Only Anita and the brat remained, and she was staring up at me with a strange look on her face.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped, leaning down to their level. "I'd say it's your turn to run."

Without saying a word, she grabbed the boy's hand and started after the others at a jog. I chortled, and began shrinking back to my preferred form. As I did so, I couldn't help but notice that she kept looking back with a deep frown on her face.

Looking back? Why was she looking back like that? Nobody ever looked back at me – nobody ever wanted to! I was hideous, wasn't I? Hideous and terrifying. People ran for their lives, too concerned for their own skin to even think about looking back.

Why would she look back?

*Castle on a Cloud, Les Miserables