[Edward Elric; NC-17] 6 - Broken Mirror Character/Series: Edward Elric; Frank Archer; Fullmetal Alchemist (2003; Pandora's Universe) Rating: NC-17 Notes: Written for 30_screams theme #6: Broken Mirror Warnings: Underage rape, child abuse and probably a poor representation of the military. Title: 6 - Broken Mirror Author:yuuo Word Count: 2498 Summary: Snow muffled the sounds of the small squad that moved with deliberate care towards the small Drachman village along the Amestrian border.
comin' back from surgery comin' up on seventeen some kind of oralplasty or maybe a lobotomy comin' back from surgery comin' up on seventeen i don't remember how i looked before he got to me -The Vincent Black Shadow
Snow muffled the sounds of the small squad that moved with deliberate care towards the small Drachman village along the Amestrian border. Lieutenant Auman moved down into a crouch, holding up a fist. The rest of the men followed suit, moving down into position behind him, lining the poorly-marked trail they were following.
Sergeant Cooper crept up next to the lieutenant. Words were exchanged, then Cooper moved back over to the waiting men.
Edward huddled down under his thick coat.
"Okay, men, L-T's gettin' worried about how loudly we're moving. We're gonna spread out. If Echo's out there, he'll hear us coming a mile away. Tyler, Elric, you guys cover the right. Holn, Ramon, you two set up a trap a click east of here. The rest of you..." Cooper grinned. "Try to walk quieter. You're sounding like a pack of elephants here."
Someone snorted and flung a small handful of snow at Cooper, the snow too loose to have packed into a snowball properly. Cooper smirked and crept back up to Auman.
Edward glanced at Private Tyler. Tyler gave him a nervous look, then shrugged and motioned with the muzzle of his gun. Come on, I guess.
With a nod, Edward followed after Tyler, creeping silently close to the ground, hands pressing into snow for balance. Like an animal stalking prey.
Following a blood trail.
The squad hadn't been moving loudly at all. The snow was too soft to crunch, all it did was muffle any noises they had been making. Not even the Drachman forces could've heard them coming.
They were setting up an ambush.
An ambush on an enemy that may or may not be there. It was only suspected that Drachman guerillas were using the little ville as one of their many safe places scattered across the border area, but the Amestrian officers that had the misfortune of being stationed in the area didn't want to take chances.
So Edward and the rest of the squad found themselves on clean up duty. For Edward, it was training, another mission that Archer sent him on to remind him that he was a soldier now. He had to follow orders, no matter what he thought of it.
He thought this mission was shitty.
Tyler motioned to him, pointing down the gully towards still-sleeping village below. Edward nodded, dropping his gun off his shoulder and slowly moving with Tyler down along the edges of the village.
Auman and Cooper moved into the village with the main part of the squad, guns at the ready, moving to the doorways of homes. "All right, everyone up! Get out, get out! Where we can see you!"
Cooper shouted an order to the other men to start searching the buildings. Edward watched as sleepy, confused people stumbled out into the frigid night air in their nightclothes, watched as some of the other men in his squad kept them at gunpoint while the rest searched the homes.
"Sarge, we got a tunne-" His comrade's sentence was cut off as the world suddenly exploded with gunfire.
---
"You disappoint me, Fullmetal."
Edward worked to keep the flinch off his face. Soldiers didn't flinch. They didn't show emotion. Especially not when getting chastised by their superior officer. If they were lucky, that's all the officer would do.
Usually, that's all Lieutenant Colonel Archer did. It was hard to tell though, when he would decide more drastic measures were needed.
Somehow, Edward suspected that his commanding officer would decide more drastic measures were needed. He just hoped that it didn't involve losing his state alchemist certification. Anything but that, anything but losing that last thread of hope for getting his brother back.
Archer turned away from the window that gave a view to nothing but the endless white of the cold, frozen north, the dead brown trees and the occasional hint of green of a conifer. Edward kept his eyes forward, his posture picture-perfect of a soldier. Of a trained officer. Of a weapon for the military.
"Do you realize you got good soldiers killed today, Fullmetal?"
He was aware. It ate at him. But the people in that village... "They were children, sir," he replied, voice cracking and squeaking and barely making it above a whisper. He fought back the urge to cough as the effort scratched his throat.
"So they were," Archer replied matter-of-factly. "Children that were just as armed as their parents. I should think you of all people should realize that children can be just as dangerous as adults."
Images of Nina flashed through Edward's mind. "Sir, we attacked-"
"Silence," Archer snapped, settling in his chair. "I do not tolerate lying, Edward, or perhaps your memory requires a bit of help. They fired upon your squad first, according to the report from Lieutenant Auman."
Edward bit the inside of his lip until it bled. "Yes,sir."
"Are you contesting the reports from the platoon leader?" Archer raised an eyebrow, fixing a cold, steady gaze on Edward.
Bile rose in the back of his throat. He swallowed it down, swallowed down the fear at that look. Please don't take my certification. Anything but that, please. "No, sir."
"So you admit you lied to your commanding officer."
A pause. There was no way to answer that- no good way, anyway. "Yes, sir."
The chair behind Archer's chair squeaked in protest to the cold as Archer sat back, arms folded against his chest, fingers steepled thoughtfully. "You disobeyed orders. Your disobedience resulted in the death of good soldiers. And now you have blatantly lied to your commanding officer. Fullmetal, are you aware what kind of consequences that carries?"
More hesitation that Edward mentally scolded himself for before he reluctantly shook his head.
"If you're lucky? You will be stripped of your certification and given a dishonorable discharge." Edward could swear Archer paused like that to give Edward's nerves time to tangle up further on purpose. "At worst, you will find yourself right back in that prison the fuhrer was gracious enough to release you from."
Every muscle in his body went tense with fear at that. Nonononopleasenotthereagain. Edward swallowed tightly. "Yessir."
Archer sat forward. "I hope you can give me good justification for your actions, or a very good reason to give you yet another chance. You've tried my patience, Fullmetal. It's growing thin."
Any wrong word now could mean the end of his last hope for getting Al back. Edward swallowed down more bile, swallowed down the urge to cough that was getting worse and worse. "Sir, I am a child, but I chose to be here. Those children did not choose for the combatants of both sides to invade their lives. They merely defend."
For a brief moment, Edward thought maybe, just maybe, he would escape with a lesser punishment- delegated to hard labor, a lashing, something, anything better than losing his certification.
For only a moment.
Archer reached into the top drawer of his desk, pulling out some forms. "Fullmetal," he said, picking up a pen and beginning to fill out the forms. "Do you know how the squad before yours that was patrolling that area was wiped out?"
Edward reluctantly shook his head before answering when he realized Archer was not raising his head to look at him. "No."
"They had passed through that village. They were carrying supplies that they shared with the villagers. An eight-year-old girl told her father that Amestrian soldiers had passed through and were in the area." Archer lifted his head, giving Edward a pointed stare. "The girl's father was a Drachman guerilla."
At least these people had a reason.
His hands shook with the effort to keep himself still, to keep his expression fixed and neutral, to keep from showing any sort of response except an obsequious "yes, sir."
"It's a shame, Fullmetal," Archer set the pen down and folded his hands on the desk. "You held a lot of promise. Unfortunately, you seem to have trouble with the fact that war turns everyone into a soldier. Unfortunate, perhaps, but you would not have been placed under my command to train you were it not true. Since you refuse to accept your duty as a soldier and carry it out fully, I have no choice but to remove that title from you."
No. No no no. He knew better. Archer didn't want to give up on Edward this far into things, and Edward knew it. Orders from Bradley himself that Grand had given Archer the chance to carry out? He knew Archer better than that.
But Edward knew that was countered heavily by the fact that if he never carried through on a threat, Edward would never learn.
Edward knew this game by now.
Almost on cue, Archer sat back. "Unless you have another suggestion, Fullmetal?"
A chance to bargain. Part of Edward nearly wanted to cry with relief. "Lashing, sir?" He could handle pain. He could handle as much pain as Archer wanted to dish out.
Unfortunately, Archer knew that. "I hardly think that would be effective with you, now would it, Fullmetal?"
It took effort to not rub at the scar that had formed nicely above his right eye from the only time that Archer ever personally raised a hand to him. "No, sir," he admitted.
For a long, agonizing minute, Archer was silent, watching Edward, a thoughtful expression on his face, eyes cool and impassive as he studied the boy in front of him whose future he held in his hands so casually. "Come here."
A reflexive urge to gag tugged at Edward's throat muscles and he fought it back, legs and feet moving automatically, taking him around to the side of Archer's desk. His commanding officer's words sounded like Edward was hearing from underwater as he spoke- "obedience should be absolute, Fullmetal," - and then ordered him down onto his knees.
Obedience should be absolute. No matter the order, it should be followed.
Even if the order was merely a test, an inane and unnecessary task carried out to ensure that a soldier understood, remembered his place and would follow his orders faithfully.
The urge to gag rose again and was forcibly restrained, shoved aside with all thought as he waited patiently a moment, waited as Archer's pants were unzipped and his erection was presented. It was almost soft, barely firmed from arousal- there was no carnal pleasure involved for Archer, which was small comfort; it was merely a tool of training.
Edward leaned forward and took Archer's cock into his mouth without word, without question. When Archer's hand tangled in his hair, guiding his mouth and taking complete control of how Edward moved and when, he made no protest. He was a soldier, soldiers did not question, did not disobey.
Soldiers did not lose their certification.
A soldier was the only thing that stood a chance at getting Al back.
His hands braced on the seat of Archer's chair as his head was moved, his mouth and tongue and lips sliding along the length of Archer's cock. His commanding officer grunted slightly but otherwise made no noise, no indication except a sudden tensing when he came and Edward choked and swallowed, kept from retching, kept from even coughing as he was released and sat back.
With effort, he kept his fists from shaking as he waited patiently on his knees for permission to stand and leave.
The ripping of paper drew his attention and he lifted his head as Archer sat back in his seat, pants rezipped as if nothing had changed, nothing had happened, to find Archer tearing the forms he'd been filling out. He realized those forms had been his decommission papers, or something akin to that.
Edward found he was far too numb to be scared by how close he'd come to losing his certification.
Soldiers showed no emotion when on duty. Human weapons even less so.
"Very well, Fullmetal." No relief, no reaction, Edward refused to allow it when Archer finally spoke. "Get up. Report to Sergeant Lièvre in one hour. And do not report to the mess hall at dinner. Report outside to the post."
Hard labor as well. Considering Edward had gotten valuable soldiers killed with his insubordination, it was more than fair. At least he was still alive.
At least he still had his title and rank. And at least he still had a chance at finding his brother someday.
"Now go get cleaned up. You have one hour. Dismissed."
Edward wasted no time saluting and hurrying out of Archer's office before the lieutenant colonel changed his mind. He made a beeline for the washroom. He still stank of blood- it clung to him, to his gloves, to his coat, to his face and hair.
The showers were empty and silent when he stepped into them, the slam of the door echoing like a shot and his guts twisted up, threatened, and he barely had time to make a dive for the toilet before his stomach emptied itself, acid burning at his scratched throat until tears stung at his eyes.
As he heaved and coughed, he didn't notice he'd started to sob and choke on the tears, his breath shuddering and every muscle shaking from the release of the adrenaline as the fear slowly leeched out of his system.
After what felt like forever, his body relaxed, numbed itself down as he sat back, leaning against the stall for support. He gathered his strength, forced his muscles to respond and got up, stripped and stepped into a shower stall. He showered quickly, ignoring the way the water was red as blood rinsed out of his hair and off his face.
A small transmutation cleaned and dried his clothing and he redressed, pulling on his black turtleneck and pants. That wretched uniform jacket came next. His gloves were shoved into his pockets. He stopped at the mirror to make take assessment of any injuries now that he was clean, to make sure he was presentable, or if he should report to the infirmary before finding Sergeant Lièvre.
Fullmetal stared back at him, silent, cold. The blood was washed off but Edward could still see it. There were scratches and scrapes on him, but nothing that needed attention, except to keep them clean.
His footsteps echoed sharply against the bathroom walls as he walked up to his reflection. The single clap banged in the dead silence of the room and alchemical energy snapped and snarled and glass whined in protest as it melted and twisted around his hand.
What stood in front of him then looked like some sort of horrific creature from a funhouse.
There. Much better.
Fullmetal stood a moment longer, then turned and walked out.