A/N: This update is for Anime-Freak 100 percent. And as for the rape v. consensual... not telling. But I wrote you an update. Because you're special and you deserve an update. Also because I owe an update to a bunch of nice people who updated and I got distracted by a bunch of nasty stuff IRL and didn't write an update in time. But mostly because you're special.

And yeah, I know its been over a year since I updated. All I can say is that Real Life is a bitch. I won't bore you with the details of my sad tale of woe, but I've been kinda distracted. I will update things though. I promise. I made this update extra long in remorse for neglecting the readers for so long.

Alphonse felt a little better. not much, mind you, his brother was still missing, and no one could give him an absolute answer on whether he was alive or dead, but Colonel Mustang had promised that he was investigating the lead in South Base. Unfortunately he was running up against resistance from Lieutenant Colonel Archer, who despite all evidence of insanity and his glaring record of misconduct was currently in control of the base. Alphonse had tried to joke that maybe Archer had gotten his placement by seducing someone in power and Roy had changed the subject very quickly, leaving Alphonse confused and slightly disgusted by the implication. Regardless, Roy had not given up and had used every weapon at his disposal (in this case, buying Archer multiple drinks and pretending to drunkenly cry on his shoulder about his overwhelming guilt over "such a young boy" being missing.) Archer, who was not entirely heartless had soothed him that he "was sure" the boy had not been harmed. This was enough for Roy to assume Archer knew something he didn't, since the man wasn't known for being comforting in most cases.

Roy had attempted to question archer further, but had unwisely revealed himself to be sober and Archer just left with a nasty glare. Roy promised Alphonse that he had followed for as long as he could, but had actually abandoned the chase when Archer shot the button off his left jacket cuff and promised to take something better next time.

In the office, at that moment, Roy was feeling guilty but strove not to show it as he outlined his attempting to get information. Hawkeye, standing by his shoulder was frowning, painfully aware of the growing piles of work the colonel had been neglecting in the time since Edward had disappeared. She was secretly glad she could forge his signature, so the pile wasn't quite as bad as it could be. But the penalty for forgery of an officer's name or rank was death by firing squad, and she didn't much like being on the other side of a gun, so she kept her "help" to a minimum.

Something had to give, and she wished they would get news soon. She was ashamed to find she would accept Edward's body almost as readily as his safe return.

Edward woke the next morning when a thin slice of sunlight fell across his face. The black out curtains on the window had been disturbed by the emaciated cat and he found himself squirming to get a good look at the world outside the window. He glanced at his door and found it was shut again. He wondered if the two had realized he could see them and shuddered. He was almost sure Kimblee would have killed him if he knew he was observed in such an awkward position, so he felt like he hadn't been noticed.

He suddenly realized the bed he laid on was wet and his cheeks burned. But the scientific part of his mind told him that he should have done that long ago, several times in fact given how long he had been here. He shivered and wondered if Kimblee's strange medical "care" had started to damage his organs. He hadn't been very hungry either, feeling uncomfortably full on the occasional food Kimblee fed him. He hadn't felt any need at all for his other bathroom function and that realization left him horrified. The cat had leapt up onto Edward's bed and was purring comfortingly, but he could barely hear it over the rush of blood in his ears and the dangerous possibilities his trained mind helpfully brought up. He was still trembling when Kimblee walked up the stairs. The door was opened and Kimblee looked a little surprised to see Edward awake, and wrinkled his nose when he caught a whiff of the room.

"Hmm... kidneys must be doing better now..." He muttered, setting the gauze he was carrying down beside the humming gray box on the table. He turned and left, leaving Edward alone to turn his head and look out into the hall. Archer's bedroom door was open wider now, showing the achingly boring iron framed bed and empty ladderback chair that his uniform had been folded over the night before. When Kimblee returned he carried an armful of cloth and a steaming pail. He put the cloth on the floor them made a face and pulled on a pair of medical gloves.

"You know, you could have yelled for help to the toilet." He said disapprovingly. Edward was about to apologize when he caught himself.

"What? Why would I want you two to come anywhere near me? YOU KIDNAPPED ME. I could have gotten to a toilet just fine if I were home with all my limbs in place!" He found himself shaking in rage now and Kimblee shrugged.

"You'll thank us when I'm done." He said, as if consoling a small child after an unpleasant jab at the clinic. He swept the quilt off of Edward and the young alchemist hissed in shock at the cold air. Kimblee removed the IV needle and lifted him out of the bed, frowning at the moist clothing. Edward was carried out of the room and into a bathroom. Edward allowed himself the luxury of thinking about something other than the fact he was being stripped naked and wondered if anyone had ever cleaned this bathroom. The mirror over the sink was cracked, rusty brown stains sticking to the star burst of dark lines. The toilet blessedly looked clean, although its tank cover was chipped, and the bathtub and sink shared their chipped state, rust stains marring the metal drain covers. The tiles just looked terrible, no description could do their molded, blood stained, grimy state justice. Kimblee finished tossing Edward's urine soaked clothes into a metal basket in the corner and started running water, testing its heat surprisingly carefully, running it over his inner arm like Edward remembered his father doing for Alphonse's baths as a baby. When he was satisfied with it, he turned and lit a gas heather mounted to the wall. Edward took the moment to snatch a rag from the soap dish and cover himself somewhat.

Kimblee smirked but didn't comment and started washing Edward's arm port out with a soaped cloth. Edward clenched his teeth, determined not to scream like a child again. He also tried not to notice the blood's grayish black color when Kimblee rinsed it. Edward's bathing was concluded soon, after his leg port had been similarly scrubbed and Kimblee had added to Edward's humiliation by washing him head to toe, in a brisk way. Edward was again reminded of his father's impersonal, bored method of bathing, both himself and Alphonse. Alphonse's memory continued to haunt him and he involuntarily whimpered as Kimblee drained the tub and rubbed him with a towel before dressing him in a pair of sleep pants that fit at the waist (with some help from a drawstring) but were much too long at his foot. Edward found himself deposited on a cushioned chair in the corner of "his" room while Kimblee stripped the bed, flipped the mattress and re-made the bed, all in an automatic, bored way. Edward wondered who else Kimblee had to change a bed for. He was embarrassed to discover he was a little grateful as Kimblee put him back in the bed, under a fresh quilt and set to hooking the lines back into place. Edward winced as the needle moved back into his bruised arm. The gray machine had been joined by a second line, connected to a bag of clear, vaguely pink tinted, fluid. It felt good though, Edward soon forgot about his pain and was sleeping soundly again.