Okay, at this point, there really is no excuse. I admit it. I just didn't want to write. (In my defense, however, I moved again, and was really busy getting situated.)

This is the second to last chapter—the next chapter will end it. But after I finish the next chapter, I'm going to go through the whole story, fix all my errors, add more details, and basically flesh out the entire story.

It'll be better once I'm done, and there'll actually be an extra lemon in the story near the middle which I had accidentally edited out. (There's lemon in the next chapter, too.)

A few things I forgot to explain will be explained, and if there's anything you guys think I should add to make the story better, now's the time to tell me.

You all will know when I'm finished with my final editing process because I'll post an author's note to tell you.

But for now, enjoy!

--

Raegan shoved the guard at the exit door out of his way and smiled, satisfied at the sharp cracking sound his skull made on the stone wall.

Now that he was out of this place, he had to find Roy. Roy would know what to do.

He was a colonel, after all.

--

"What do you mean, Edward was kidnapped?!"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?! It's pretty self-explanatory!"

Alphonse frowned over the note Roy had received, marring his delicate features with angry lines. "Why aren't they asking for a ransom?"

"Because they don't want one." Al glanced over at Roy's face, which had suddenly gone pale.

"What does that mean?" Al's voice was barely above a whisper, terrified to know the answer.

"It means they have what they want." Roy looked at Alphonse with a look in his eyes that scared him to death. "It means they have no intention of letting Edward go."

A sudden insistent hammering started at Roy's front door and if anyone had been watching, they would have been amazed at how fast the two flashed to answer the door.

Almost wrenching the door off it's hinges, Roy's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him.

Raegan stood, breathing raggedly and looking like he had run a mile and then face-dived into harsh pavement. His once-soft hair was clumped in the back with dried blood and fresh blood fell steadily from his pale face. A cut that would no doubt soon be a scar crossed his older one, creating a gory, flipped cross. His eyes were dull and panicked, and Roy gripped his dirtied t-shirt, jerking him inside and slamming the door shut.

Throwing Raegan on the couch and sitting down beside him. "Something tells me you know what happened to Edward."

"Edward—Eddy's in trouble! Trinity nabbed us at the grocery store and now they're hiding out in our old place. We have to go, we have to—" Raegan stopped talking, suddenly noticing the third person in the room. His eyes widened and shone in a sudden moment of clarity. "Who are you?"

"Alphonse, Edward's little brother." Alphonse gripped his hand tightly, ignoring the gritty, bloody mess that covered it. "Please, can you tell us where he is?"

Raegan's face turned a bright red. "Uh…yeah….yeah, I can take you." He cleared his throat to get rid of the rasp and stood, smudging the dried blood off his cheek. He hid his wince at the sting and stood stiffly. He took two steps toward the door and turned suddenly, Alphonse crashing into his chest at the unexpected movement. Ignoring his darkened face, Raegan looked up at Roy. "Colonel, you have a car, right? Lets drive there."

Roy nodded sharply and took the lead out the door. "You're right, it'll be faster. Private Moris, you get shotgun. I'll need you to give directions."

The three of them fell into the sleek vehicles, the leather squeaking quietly in protest as it adjusted to their weight.

Before Roy started the car, he twisted around in his seat to look at Alphonse. "Are you sure you can handle this? We're dealing with a gang, you know."

Al smiled darkly and opened his vibrant red jacket, revealing a gun attached with a chest holster. "I can take care of myself."

Roy nodded solemnly and turned back around.

They drove just over the speed limit the entire way, darting through back alleys and cutting through traffic like a hot knife through butter.

"Here, here, it's here!"

Roy hit the brakes, parking haphazardly in front of the crumbling subway gates.

--

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Edward scowled blearily at the puddle of water that the dripping ceiling was feeding.

The place was never this shabby when Rae and I were here…but then again, I always did the repairs, and even before I got here, Tom always took care of everything…

His right leg was chained to the wall, and the shackle had already rubbed his ankle raw. He would have escaped hours ago, if Trinity hadn't cuffed his hands with wooden hand stocks, which kept his hands from touching.

His body ached everywhere, and he hesitated to move, knowing it would hurt.

He was covered in bruises and tiny nicks that would be worse than paper cuts while healing and stung like hell right now. His white undershirt felt crusty and his leather pants, once new and flawless, were now in sticky, bloody shreds.

When the torture had started again after Raegan had escaped, Edward had honestly feared for his life. But now, he realized that Trinity planned to keep him alive for a long time, slowly torturing him until he was riddled with scars and all but mad.

He had come close to insanity, wishing for anything other than the constant, stretching, prickling, stinging pain that hi him with each movement—it even hurt to breathe as his chest rose up and down.

He wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Edward frowned, thinking he had heard something above the dreaded water drips…it sounded like an argument…

BANG!

And that was definitely a gunshot! What was happening outside his door?!

Something heavy banged against the door to his torture cell, and Ed jerked, staring at the door with almost hesitant apprehension. A sickening dragging sound came from the other side and then the door handle rattled.

--

Punching out the first ragged boy they came across, a rather thickset boy with a knife at his hip—obviously a guard—Roy led the way into the dark tunnel. Only one thing was on his mind.

He had to find Edward.

They walked through the makeshift door of hammered-in boards and saw in front of them six dirty boys, playing poker at a rickety-round card table.

The boy closest to Roy was a pug-faced Irish boy, covered in freckles and topped with wild, dirty red hair. He had a hand with four Aces. To his right was a pale, pointy, and slender boy. His hair was dark and he held himself with a grace common to royalty. He seemed too frail to be in a gang at first glance, but if you looked twice you could see the icy chill in his eyes. Next to him was a short fidgety boy with dirty blonde hair, and the boy next to him had hair so covered in dirt that Roy couldn't really be sure what color it was. The other two boys at the table were twins, both with auburn hair and piercing green eyes.

None of them looked up from their cards as the three intruders entered, and, after a moment of silence, the boy with the cold eyes spoke.

"Your shift hasn't ended yet, Haden."

"Oh, is that what his name was?"

In seconds the table was abandoned and each boy was holding a knife aimed at either Roy, Raegan, or Alphonse.

"Really, boys," Alphonse said quietly, drawing his pistol. "Don't you know better than to bring knives to a gun fight?" The boys paled at the sight of Al's emotionless smile. "Drop them." The halls echoed with the clattering of sharp metal on rough stone. "Good. Now, I'm sorry, but my two companions here are going to have to knock you out. We'll try to make it as painless as possible, but as this is a choice between bruises and gunshot wounds, I imagine you'll forgive us eventually."

One by one, each of the boys crumpled down to the floor as Roy and Rae cracked the back of their skulls with a small stone.

"That was easier than I expected." Al smiled at Raegan.

And then he was being tackled to the ground.

Roy jumped to the side just in time to avoid the flying, dirty boy that flew at him. He pulled out his pocketknife and he and the short, thin boy circled each other.

From the corner of his eye, Roy watched Raegan wrestle a dirty kid off of Alphonse.

"Told you it was too easy," Alphonse took deep breaths, probably trying to calm his heart after the attack.

But Raegan had paused, his hands gripping the collar of the dirty boy's shirt and his weight and strength pinning him down. On closer inspection, Roy noticed that it was the same boy that had delivered the letter, and a flash of anger ran through him.

But the colonel's opponent noticed his preoccupation, and darted forward, jabbing with his dagger. Roy had training and experience on his side, however, and swiftly knocked the dagger aside. While the boy was off balance, falling forward, he lifted his fist and brought the dull end of the pocketknife down on the back of the boy's head. He was out cold before he hit the floor.

Meanwhile Raegan still sat and stared at the boy still uselessly struggling against his iron grip.

"Snick?" Raegan breathed. The boy underneath him stiffened, his eyes widening. "It's you, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Snick winced as his all but trademarked rasp came out in his voice and watched with horror as the full force of Raegan Moris's rage shone in his eyes.

"It is you." His voice, always so fiery and passionate, had iced over with the intensity of his cold fury. His arms began to shake as Snick paled, and his lips pulled back into a snarl. "You. Vile. Traitor. I should kill you here and now! Everything… all of this… it's all YOUR FAULT!"

Snick started shaking, flinching away from the harsh words coming from the man who had once led him. "Please… don't…"

Raegan's back suddenly straightened, and he addressed his two companions without looking at them. "Edward is in the first door down the hall on the left. Go on. I have an old score to settle."

As Roy and Alphonse strode down the hall, they tried to ignore the muffled scream that followed after.

They walked for long minutes down the darkened hall, the sound of their footsteps echoing eerily back at them. They couldn't see farther than three feet ahead of them.

Alphonse walked behind Roy, his hand on the handle of the gun, hidden inside his bright red jacket. Suddenly Roy stopped dead, causing Al to run into his back.

Leaning to the side to apologize, Al froze as he saw the same thing Roy had seen.

Sitting two feet in front of them was a man with dirty, spiky hair and a face disfigured by his chosen way of life. He sat on his rusted iron chair as though it were a throne, and glared at them with misguided righteous fury.

"I know you all've come for Blondie," The man drawled, smirking as they both flinched. "But you can't have him. I'm not done with him, you see."

"Not…done?" Alphonse breathed.

"No, he hasn't suffered nearly enough for destroying my face."

"That's what this is about?! YOUR FACE?!" Alphonse roared, his quiet demeanor banished in the face of pure hatred. "You kidnapped my brother for the sake of your VANITY?!"

Trinity's scowl darkened, disliking someone belittling his pride. "Whatever. You can't have him."

Alphonse's face darkened, and without a second's pause, he pulled out the pistol, aiming it at the man's head.

And he had the nerve to laugh. "You wouldn't."

Alphonse squeezed the trigger, pelting four bullets into the horrid man's skull.

"Fuck you."

Trinity's body tilted and fell limply to the side, banging against a door—the door!

"Oh, great, now he's in the way. Help me move him, would you, Roy?"

With Roy's help, Al dragged the corpse away from in front of the door they needed to pass.

Roy fumbled with the knob for a moment.

"Damn it, it's locked!"

Alphonse held out a key. "Try this; it was tied to his hip."

Roy nodded his thanks and took the key, ignoring the blood that stained it.

To his relief, the lock clicked. Daring to hope, he swung the door wide.

At fisrt he took in the dismal state of the room, wet and dirty all at once, worn places on the floors and walls. He shuddered at the chains and shackles nailed in around the room.

Then he saw Edward. He sat against the far corner, his right leg chained and his hands caught in the crudest form of handcuffs. His clothes had been slit everywhere, the skin revealed covered in the thinnest of cuts. His hair hung in choppy, matted lengths and a large, dark bruise bloomed across his cheek, but his eyes were clear and bright as he gazed at Roy with pure joy.

"R-Roy," He rasped, lips cracking as he smiled.

Roy ran forward and fell to his knees right in front of Edward. He made quick work of the clasp to the cuffs.

Edward ignored the sharp stings of his cuts and the dull ache of his bruises to wrap his arms around Roy's shoulders. "I was so scared," He breathed into his ear.

"I was so worried," Roy whispered back, holding Edward tightly. "I'll never let this happen again. Never, never, never…" Roy feathered kisses all over Edward's face with every word of promise.

Unseen and forgotten in the doorway, Alphonse smiled.