Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. Simple.

Purpose

It has been seven days since I was rescued from that dark acrid cell. Seven agonizing days. They captured me while I was out on patrol early the first morning. Mustang was supposed to join me but I was ready to get it over with and go back to bed, so I headed out alone. My first mistake. I didn't realize what was happening til it was already too late.

Two cars surrounded me, driving in a tight circle. I assumed it was Havoc and Breda screwing around. I called to them and they began to slow. As they came to a stop I stomped towards the nearest car. The car shuttered to a stop and I pounded on the window while threatening to demote the first person I saw.

The window lowered an inch or two. "Get in." a voice with a thick accent ordered. I immediately recognized the accent, Ishbalan. I stepped back only to be caught between two Ishbalans from the second car. I began to panic. Not good. I swiftly kicked the man to the left of me in the shin, he immediately let go. I punched the second in the stomach and then I began to run.

The next thing I knew I heard a gunshot then felt the searing pain of the bullet as it ripped into my good leg. I fell to the ground screaming. I tried to right myself only to be grabbed roughly and shoved back to the ground. I could feel a knee grinding into my back. I growled and thrashed about trying to free my hands which were being held in a stead fast grip.

I began shouting, screaming when I can't get them free. The person who pinned me to the ground tried to quiet my warning by clamping his hand over my mouth. Bad idea. I bit as hard as I could til I felt the bone snap in my mouth, and a satisfying scream. He loosened his grip just enough that a broke free. I pushed off the sandy terrain and sprinted as fast as my leg would let me.

I ran to the second car, fell to my knees and clapped my hands. I glanced over my shoulder, they were coming. I smirked and slammed my hands into the dust. Sand and fire exploded around me. I began to move but something bashed into my forehead. Darkness exploded into my vision. Everything turned black and quiet.

The first day was full of screaming and questions. Where the Fuehrer was, who did I answer too, what my rank was, was I an alchemist. When I didn't answer, a slap across my face or a whip across my back. I never told them anything, just screamed until my voice was gone. Shortly after I dispatched three men and my arm and leg were taken.

The second day my left eye was swollen shut, my face bruised and disfigured. When I refused to talk again, my head was shoved under water til I was half dead then they would yank me out by my hair and ask me the question again. When I refused to answer they would start over again. I passed out after the fifth time.

The third day I was rudely awakened by a kick in the ribs which was followed by three hours of getting the crap beat out of me, still I did not breath a word. As I lie on the floor drifting in and out of consciousness I could hear radio transmissions, several times I think I heard familiar voices. I hang on as long as I can before everything goes dark.

The fourth day was much like the first, lots of yelling and swearing when I managed to wriggle free from the chair I was tied to and pushed a tub of water onto some of the radio equipment. I was as giddy as a school girl until a chair connected with my head. Blackness ensued. I could feel my body giving up on me. I thought my eye might never open again and I could feel my ribs stab into my lungs where they are broken.

The fifth day there were no questions. The place outside of the tiny walls that enclosed me was full of movement and shouts that I couldn't understand. I think the chair might have been the cause. I heard talks of resistance and reinforcements. I don't understand most of it. Words drifted in and out of my head. I only clung to the ones that might change my predicament.

The sixth day I'd rather not remember….I couldn't see them. Only hear their vulgar moans of pleasure as they moved in and out of me fulfilling their own perverted pleasures. I didn't make a sound. Pretended they weren't there making my body tingle with a false sense of pleasure. The epitome of my torture.

The seventh day I don't really remember. Only that I lie on the floor nearly dead and broken. Then you came.

I remember the sound of your voice, "Edward? Are you in here?!," I could barely talk, only whisper your name. "Roy."

Then there was a loud crash and a warm gentle hand brushed my cheek. Your obstinate eyes, full of concern and grief. Your raven colored hair slicked against your brow from your nervous perspiration. Then your strong embrace lifting me from that hell.

Days later you asked me, "Why didn't you speak?" And I replied, "To protect you." Then you looked down on me and cried. Told me you weren't worth it, you didn't deserve that kind of devotion.

But to tell you the truth, you were worth every bit. To me you are the world and the only reason I'm still living. You took me from the scared, reckless, stubborn boy you met in Resembool and you've changed me. Showed me that I didn't have to take all the blame and that it's okay to share the load. I can accept my past and move on towards my future. You are my driving force. My purpose. And I would have died to protect you.

A/N: Well hope you guys like this one! Just a little something I finally typed up in my free time. Hopefully I will be able to post more now that I got this whole college thing figured out!

~Moxie