Torturous Dreams

I released the snake from my hold briefly as I kicked into the air before slamming my heel back down on the snake's head.

I took the short breath that I was permitted eagerly, gasping in air before forcing myself to take it slowly. In, out, In, out. That's the way. Good. Breath, Ed, Breath. I rolled my shoulders, struggling slightly in the bloody ropes that bound me to a metal chair. My hands were strung over my head with heavy steel. I'd already tried to break it using the sheer force of my Automail arm, though that only seemed to put strain on my weakening left and cut the wrist and forearm mercilessly. I continued to pant for air as I glanced to my left as movement caught my eye—

"Look at me!" A screech sounded from in front of me, entirely annoying in it's high tones, though it might have been somewhat alluring in it's lower whispers. Whatever opinion I might have had (though I can't remember it) was certainly gone now, replaced with 'annoying'. I turned my head, regardless, and glared at the pale, raven-haired woman in front of me. At first I might've thought her a good match for Mustang, but now I just reduce her to 'crazy, sadistic, bitch' and cease any wishes to pin her on even my worst foe.

"Crucio!"

I writhed slightly in my chair at the initial shock of the torture spell, gasping through the feeling of phantom knives, searing hot, pushing into various and random points of my body. I gave weak whimpers that I refused to let turn to screams (as, oddly, It seemed to turn her on. Somehow.). The 'up' side to real knives is that you know where the pain is going to be coming from and when the pain is coming.

Curse this magic.

The knives halted their stabbing as the (crazy bitch) woman lowered her wand, though the dull sting and burn remained as I panted and gasped for air while clawing and tugging at my cuffs in vain. I snapped my head back around, though, as I noticed a form slinking around the various and random shelves that were pushed to the side as to give this witch adequate torture space. I continued to pant and gasp for air, but my eyebrows furrowed as I tried to track the form moving among the floors in my limited amount of light.

A shiver took over my shoulders and distracted me as warm liquid ran down my abdomen. I grimaced as this reminded me that I'd yet to overcome the pain of the first torture. Which this… 'Bella' person decided would be writing in my chest with a knife before slashing at my back and ribs with the same torture tool.

I shook the dizziness from my brain, and forced the blur in my vision away. My senses were dulling, I was losing blood, fast.

I heard a short screech of metal against stone and jumped, my neck cracking as my head jerked up to look at my lady-torturer, who had pulled a chair up to sit in front of me. I faintly noticed that my hair-tie fell out and dropped into one of the many small puddles of blood that formed around my seat.

"You're not very fun," she told me with a pout, swinging her legs up to cross them in an Indian-style position. She put a hand to her chin and leaned on it. "You don't scream very much."

Nope, I take back what I said earlier. I would wish her on my worst enemy. She and Envy would be perfect for each other.

I tried to follow the figure again as it caught my eye. Was it circling us?

I wriggled in my restraints again and she giggled, cupping my chin with her hand. "You are feisty, though, still trying to escape. You're completely defenseless right now, you know that?"

I rose an eyebrow at her words, almost amused. Wouldn't she think that I've noticed by now? I've been having knives dug into my chest and invisible whips and knives being slashed at and forced into my body with this weird magic. I think that I know I'm completely defenseless. Hell, I'm shirtless, that's a big enough form of 'defenseless' to me. I rolled my eyes and gave a short sigh through my nose. My arm aches.

She disregarded my reaction to her words and continued to caress me with her creepy, skeletal fingers. You know, I might've thought she was hot once. Mind changed. Completely. She's creepy, and only creepy. "You're lovely, really," she continued. "Such beautiful golden hair, stunning eyes." She ran her hand across my chest, next, smearing the blood with the gleeful giggle of a five year old. "Great figure. D'you work out?"

I snorted, the urge to bring my palm to my face was strong, as well as the urge to kick her face. Who spends a few hours torturing someone, and then just feels them up? Seriously, woman.

My eye caught the figure again and I growled, turning my head away from the woman to follow it as it made it way around our little clearing before slithering toward me. Is this how they planned to 'finish me off'? A snake?

Wait… I thought back to Harry's dream about Ron's dad. They found him and rescued him because of Harry's dream, in which he mentioned he was the snake. They were trying to lure them here a second time. I snarled and thrashed in my chair until my left leg came free from the simple ropes binding my leg to the chair, Bella sprung back in surprise, hastily trying to retrieve either her wand or her knife. I kicked out and pinned the snake by the neck with my metal foot. It glared up at me while hissing and showing it's fangs.

I furrowed my eyebrows and sneered back before leaning forward toward the snake, ignoring Bella as she tried to force me back up with small spells that made me jerk slightly, and jerk my leg away from their precious club pet with other spells, or the same ones- I wasn't paying attention, and shriek at me. I sneered at the snake and summoned my dormant voice.

"Harry, if you even think about getting me rescued or sending anyone down here, I will personally kick your ass."

I released the snake from my hold briefly as I kicked into the air before slamming my heel back down on the snake's head.

(~)

Harry shot upward with a gasp, clutching at the blankets at his sides and glancing around frantically before his eyes locked on a bed across the room from his own.

An empty bed.

Ed had left early the other night, saying he had something to deal with down in Diagon Alley. He needed a book for his research, one that he remembered seeing at Florish in Blots and had tried to buy before Molly rushed them from the store.

"Harry, if you even think about getting me rescued or sending anyone down here, I will personally kick your ass."

The wizard shook in his bed. The vision had been so vivid, painful even, as a metal heel descended onto his—no, the snake's head.

Ed was usually right and whatever crazy idea or plan he had usually came out for the greater good. He had a reason, and a damn good one at that… but… Harry couldn't help but worry for his friend. He'd been in worse shape then Mr. Weasley had been in. Multiple carvings littering his naked torso and back, blood seeping into the black and brown leather of his pants and belt, red staining his vibrant blond hair…

Harry's fists clenched at the sheets. He was torn between listening to Ed's warning and darting off to possibly save Ed's life… He trusted Ed, he trusted Ed greatly. He would put his own life into Ed's hands and hardly question him if he did something completely baffling, like handing him over to the Dark Lord in exchange for several other captives.

(He would be back to save him later, Harry was sure, if he even did it in the first place)

Then… why was it such a hard decision to try and turn over and force himself to go back to sleep?

(~)

I was making progress.

Sure, I was throwing up numerous transmuted walls behind me and occasionally slipping in my own blood, as well as swerving in my fuzzy vision, I still had cuffs locked around my wrists (I'd managed to get my hands together and deconstruct the chains hastily), and I was still bleeding heavily, but I was making progress. I'd gotten away from that chair, that woman, that room, that unconscious (or better, dead) snake. I was sprinting for my life down numerous hall ways, having no idea where I was going.

I found an elevator.

Simply beaming I flung the doors open and stumbled in before closing the doors quickly behind me and using a bit of clever alchemy to melt the metal of the doors together after checking the vacancy of my escape box. I breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down on my butt after hitting the highest button on the damn tree.

I dozed off, somehow, but a cheery ding~ brought me back to reality. I transmuted the doors back to normal again quickly and stumbled into what looked like a busy office place.

I frowned and tilted my head in confusion before shaking it off and bolting in a random direction. I took off to where the most people were coming from and continued to run as if death itself were at my heels.

(which he or she very well may be)

I looked around in further confusion as I hit a long, wide hallway with various fireplaces burning green flames on either side. I shook away the confusion (it's magic, Ed, get used to it) and sprang toward the nearest one, grabbing a handful (probably too much) of the green powder and ducking into the odd use of transportation.

Floo powder, I'd read about it somewhere while researching magic out of (trying to figure out what the hell it is ) curiosity, and even used it once or twice.

I threw the powder at my feet. "Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office!"

(I actually probably didn't need to say 'Headmaster Albus' I mean, how many 'Dumbledore's could there be?)

With a sharp jerk in my already pained lower back, I was flung into a dizzying spin of magical transportation, soon shutting my eyes against the nauseating twirling of my vision.

I stumbled as I arrived, sending me crashing forward headfirst. That's okay, though. I'm still okay… (Well, as okay as someone who's bleeding excessively and barely able to move anymore can be) I escaped.

"—was covered in blood!"

I jerked my head up to notice Harry, standing before the Head Master who seemed bleary and tired.

Wait a second, I was—err, am covered in blood!

I struggled to my feet and glared hard at the wizard who I had befriended before advancing toward him (though I swerved heavily multiple times) and hastily socking the boy in the jaw, sending him to the floor with a startled yelp and an almost comical flail of limbs.

I panted slightly before taking a deep breath and balling my fists at my sides. "I told you not to act on the damn dream, you idiot!"

The wizard stared up at me, wide-eyed. "Y-you… how?"

I furrowed my eyebrows and snarled. "That isn't important!"

Harry backpedaled slightly, shuffling backwards quickly on the floor. "Well, don't yell at me! I was worried!"

"Harry, do you have any idea why they sent you that damn vision of me getting my ass beaten? Because they were trying to tempt you to either come down and deal with it yourself, or get someone else to do it! I swear, you people have no battle sense at all! They were trying to lure you down there!" I shouted before promptly crashing backwards onto my ass and leaning back on my shaking palm while holding out my metal arm to point toward the wizard. "I t-told you—I!"

Dumbledore, who collected himself from the shock of a bloody (literally) alchemist stumbling into his room half-dead, came to intervene, helping me to my feet and leading me toward the exit of his office carefully with a hand on my back. "Come, Mr. Elric. We'd best get you to the infirmary before your efforts of saving yourself be wasted as well as my floorboards forever stained."

"B-but he-!"

The old wizard shushed me with a hand being brought up. "I know, Mr. Elric, I know. You can… explain the dangers of his… endeavor later. For now, we need to get you to Madam Pomfry."

I sputtered, but eventually gave up and allowed myself to be lead toward the Hospital Wing. Harry darted off somewhere along the way only to arrive at my bedside twenty minutes or so later with Hermione and Ron in tow, Neville and Ginny trailing behind with wide eyes. Before they got a word in or I started yelling at Harry again, however, Poppy herded them out and insisted that I needed to rest.

I complained animatedly for a full three hours before passing out wrapped up in somewhat scratchy blankets and pillows with a canteen of some sort of… magical... blood restoring drink laying on the nightstand beside me.

That Potter boy is crazy, though, if he thinks I'm not going to kick his ass when I see him next, I am a man of my word after all.

A / N: Okay, I'm going to admit that I have no idea what I was doing. I didn't have any idea what I was doing when I wrote it! I'm going to say, though, that this was my first Harry Potter / FMA crossover thing, and it was kind of fun! =D I'm going to take the time to apologize for all the err... blood and violence and stuff. I'm going to set it as a T but tell me if I need to put it as an M, please?

Uh... I guess I'm going to go ahead and say that this is for Maya and Laura, two wonderful ladies I had the pleasure of talking to earlier today about some crossover related things. (If you haven't already, I suggest you go read their works, they are very good. =3) I've been told that Maya likes angst... but I'm not really sure if this classifies as angst... I think it was supposed to be at some point... but oh well! I think it turned out how I expected it to, either way.

Have a lovely day or night, everybody!

-Jed