cornerofmadness: (plot bunnies)
cornerofmadness ([personal profile] cornerofmadness) wrote2010-04-13 10:31 pm
Entry tags:

Ficlet - The Twists and Bends of the Subconscious (rough draft)

The Twists and Bends of the Subconscious
Author – [livejournal.com profile] cornerofmadness
Disclaimer – believe me Arakawa doesn’t want this bunny
Rating – PG-13
Time line/Spoilers – no spoilers, just about any time
Characters – Ed, Al, Hohenheim
Summary – Ed couldn’t look away
Word Count – 602
Warnings – crack, seriously.
Author’s Note – I have no idea what [livejournal.com profile] evil_little_dog and I were talking about when this bunny bit me. She said you HAVE to do it. So here it is. Happy Birthday [livejournal.com profile] evil_little_dog, you asked for it. It’s currently unbetaed since I sent it off at the last minute then decided eh, don’t wait, make the changes when you get them from the betas later.


* * *

Ed wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He was paralyzed, unable to move even his eyelids. Somehow in the back of his head, he knew how this would turn out but sheer horror went with the anticipated outcome. No kid should see his parents like this. Why was he here?

Hohenheim had left his library earlier than expected. There had been barely time for Alphonse and Edward to fall asleep. Of course now Ed wasn’t asleep. He was here, watching his father, not even capable of a whisper to alert the man to his presence. How could the bastard not see him? It wasn’t like Edward was invisible.

Hohenheim had spent an exorbitant amount of time in the bathroom. Thankfully the shower had been too foggy to see much but his father had spent what seemed like forever brushing out his hair. He didn’t tie it back this time. Hohenheim shaped up his beard then splashed on some cologne, the stuff Granny Pinako said made him smell like a Creatan whore – not that Ed really understood what she meant but he did know that cologne was a little flowery.

Of course, this much time spent on appearances could only mean one thing: Hohenheim was taking his wife somewhere. Maybe there was a dance down at the city hall or a play. Instead, Ed found himself floating along to the bedroom. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. He definitely didn’t want to see this. His brain would break. His eyes wouldn’t shut but Ed knew they would boil in their sockets if made to witness his parents doing that.

His mother was curled up on the bed, completely invisible under a sheet covered with purple flowers. Hohenheim stripped off his shirt then crawled onto the bed. He kissed the sheeted lump’s shoulder. Purple flowers waved as if in a breeze as his mom rolled over. Ed tried to scream when Hohenheim drew down the sheet and instead of Tricia lying on the bed, it was Mustang.

Ed’s eyes flew open as he sat up fast just as his father kissed the bastard. Ed’s forehead struck something, creating an impressive bong. Half-convinced he had just split open his skull, Ed fumbled for his throbbing forehead. “Ouch.”

“Brother, are you all right? You were having such a nightmare.” Al’s gauntlet rested on Ed’s shoulder. “You were screaming. I was trying to wake you up.”

“I think you broke my head,” Ed grumbled then shuddered. “Hell, Al, it was horrible.”

“Did you dream about trying to bring Mom back again?”

Ed sprawled on the bed. “Worse.”

“How could anything be worse?”

“I was following Dad through the house and I couldn’t look away or speak. He was getting ready to go have sex.”

“Ew Ed! Did you dream about Mom and Dad having sex? That’s just wrong!” Al sat back down on his own unneeded bed.

Worse! I dreamt he was having sex with Mustang.” Ed stuck out his tongue, shuddering all over again.

“Edward! That’s…that’s.” Al flailed.

“I know. I want to go scrub out my brain. That’s it, Al. Don’t let me eat pickled fish and spiced pickled cabbage right before bed again.” Ed made a face.

“Shall I hold you back from the enormous slices of chocolate cake, too?” his brother asked sardonically.

“No, those are still okay. I think the dream means I want those two to go fuck themselves and die.” Ed rolled over, covering back up. “I’m going to try to get back to sleep.”

“Sweet dreams brother.” Al’s tone was a study in sarcasm.

“Oh, shut up.”

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