Fic - Painless a Boys Blue story
Mar. 16th, 2008 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessPainless
A Boys Blue story
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cornerofmadness (DM Evans)(and mjules)
Disclaimer – So not mine, all right belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, no profit made, just a lot of fun to be had
Rating – R for graphic violence
Pairing – Roy/Maes (mentions of Roy/Riza and Maes/Gracia)
Time Line –pre-series, manga based, this one is set during the Ishbal arc
Summary – The horrors of war catch up to Roy
Prompt – #13 excessive chain
Warning – contains graphic scenes of war
Author’s Note – written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30kisses project for Prompt – #13 excessive chain. While this is manga based there is one tiny element in here from the anime. However, I think it’s not just probably but highly likely something like it did happen in the mangaverse, especially given how long Roy and Maes were at the front. Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta. The title came from the song lyrics running through my head while working on this and it’s ironically the theme song for the same show my last Boys Blue was a homage to.For lyrics head here
If you’d like to read the rest of the series, here you go All the Boys Blues
X X X
Roy wanted to die, wanted this to be the very end of himself. He had gone somewhere neither Maes nor Riza could save him. Memories tumbled in his mind, pulling like taffy, hurting more than they helped: Maes and their talks about having the eyes of killers now, transformed by the heat of the desert; Riza weakly defending herself against Kimbley’s accusations; Armstrong’s breakdown after killing a child and being sent back home. Roy had used Armstrong’s breakdown to keep himself comfortably numb. Now, he was beyond that, well into the realm of pain.
Roy didn’t have an important family like Armstrong. He wouldn’t be quietly removed if he refused to fight on. Gran would put him down like a mad dog; Maes had already seen the man do it to others. Roy might want to die but he wouldn’t give Gran that satisfaction.
Looking down at his ungloved hands, seeing dry, cracked skin baked by the heat of his fires and the unforgiving desert sun, Roy wondered how many had he killed with these hands? Too many to count so why now, he wondered, why come apart now? What was one more life?
‘ You know why, ’ a vicious little snake in his belly hissed. He and Armstrong had, in the past, let women and children escape. Roy would have let this boy go, too, except the poor thing had raised his gun. How ridiculous the kid had looked, a gun too big for him to hold properly but he had done his best to aim it.
Roy hadn’t doubted the lad wanted to kill him.
Roy had been faster.
Now he wished that he had let the boy kill him. Roy wished he had used his gun instead of alchemy but, as he investigated the house, hoping to find it clear and useful as a meeting point, Roy had been taken by surprise. To his shame, he had panicked. At least a gun was quick, nearly merciful. Instead, he had snapped and entered a new level of hell.
The boy’s screams echoed, still reverberating deep in his soul. Innocence burned away, red eyes wide with fear and agony as flesh melted from bone, perfuming the air with a sweet, sickly smell like roast pork. In the end, Roy pulled his gun and put the boy out of his misery, too stunned at his own actions to extinguish the flames at first.
He had stood over the boy. One side hadn’t burned. Roy gazed at a perfect little foot, its sandal a few feet away, sent airborne by the boy’s flailing. The other side of the child was nothing but roasted, black flesh and exposed bone.
Roy had barely turned away from the small corpse before vomiting. The powerful retching left him on his knees, dribbles of vomit dotting the deep blue of his uniform. Roy managed to collect himself just enough to finish the scouting job and report back an ‘all-clear.’ He had hogged the make-shift shower back at base camp, trying to clean the child’s death off of him, failing miserably. The scent of it coated him like sweat.
Avoiding anyone who might even remotely know him, Roy headed out into the desert. He had found his shelter against a crumbling remains of a wall. Maybe this close to an Ishbalan establishment, the military would think more along the lines of ‘killed in action’ than the coward’s way out, as if they wouldn’t be able to tell by the bullet’s angle of entry.
He knew he should immolate himself. It was what he deserved. Roy almost wanted to burn, to turn to ash and blow away like all those lives he had taken, like that innocent child who had just died so horribly at his hands.
But he was a craven creature. Roy couldn’t inflict that same horrific death on himself that he had on so many others. What if he couldn’t keep the flames up long enough to kill himself? No, a bullet was quicker, more sure. Roy didn’t want to leave himself wounded and crippled for the rest of his miserable life.
Sliding his gun free of the holster, Roy sighed, relieved at finally escaping this hell. The tip of the gun was like a warm, hard kiss against his temple. Roy fumbled for the trigger then changed his mind. He had heard of cases where the bullet simply skittered under the skin. He needed more certainty.
Roy put the gun under his chin. The trajectory would take the brain stem out, killing him instantly. He reached for the trigger. Agony exploded in his head and the gun clattered to the rocky ground. Pain followed pain and Roy threw up an arm instinctively to shield his head, as ludicrous as that was from a suicidal man.
“You fucking idiot!” Maes bellowed, still raining down blows. Invectives punctuated each contact his fists made, until Roy sprawled senseless and bleeding into the baked earth.
Roy flinched as arms went around him. Maes cradled Roy against his chest, his hand smoothing Roy’s hair, heedless of where they were and whoever might happen upon them.
“What were you thinking? You can’t leave us like this!” Maes’ voice was rough, dragging over Roy, leaving him raw. “How are your friends supposed to live with the knowledge you’d rather die than turn to us for help?”
“You can’t help,” Roy mumbled, his lips raw and swollen, their movement trickling blood into his mouth.
“You never even tried.” The hardness of that statement made Roy wince. He’d never seen Maes this angry.
Roy held out his dirt-smudged hands, barely able to see through his tearing, swelling eyes. “I killed a child with these hands, Maes,” he rasped out, his hands shaking. “He was just a boy and I burned him alive. The screams.” Roy leaned over, tumbling out of Maes’ grip. His stomach tried to empty again but there was nothing left but a thin steam of mucus. Roy barely perceived Maes’ hand circling his back, trying to comfort him. He wiped blood and mucus from his lips then looked back at Maes. “I can’t live with the monster I’ve become.”
“Did he have a gun?” Maes asked simply.
Roy stared at Maes as if he had suddenly lapsed into a strange language never heard before. “What?”
“The boy, was he armed?” Maes’ clear gaze was hard to withstand. Roy couldn’t look at him.
“What difference does it make?” Roy huddled up, knowing where Maes was going with this but he wasn’t ready to hear it.
“He would have killed you. Neither of you should have been in that position. We are forcing children to become killers and we are becoming murderers of this world’s future,” Maes said bleakly, gathering Roy back up in his arms.
“How did you find me?” Roy asked finally, trying to distance himself from the images in his head.
“You aren’t anywhere near as good as being covert as you think you are,” Maes scolded with a slight grin. “And you were so out of it, you didn’t hear me calling your name so I figured I’d better follow you to keep you out of trouble.”
Roy said nothing, simply rested back against Maes. Finally he said, “Will you tell Riza?”
“I think I should. You bent our trust, almost to the breaking point,” Maes replied after a moment’s thought and Roy huddled up against him. “I hate putting that burden on you, too, Roy, but you did. You could have tried to talk to us but you didn’t.”
“You have enough burdens without shouldering mine,” Roy murmured, wanting to crawl inside Maes’ skin, convinced he’d be safe there.
“Idiot. A burden shared is a burden lightened. You lean on us and we lean on you. That’s how it works.” Maes’ lips feathered quickly over Roy’s forehead. “If you had done this Roy, I would have cursed you until I no longer haunt this world. I can’t even imagine Riza’s reaction.”
“She would loathe me,” Roy whispered. “She gave up everything to follow me and I led her into death.”
“Not you,” Maes corrected, his hand coming up to cup the back of Roy’s head. “This was not what we had planned in the Academy, Roy. We were…naïve. You have done a terrible thing and it pushed you to a place you couldn’t bear to go. You didn’t even think about it, Roy. You just reacted.”
“You can’t tell me that this pain will fade,” Roy snarled, trying to pull free but Maes wouldn’t let him go.
“I don’t think you’ll ever not hurt when you think about that boy, Roy.” Maes rocked him. “You wouldn’t be the man I love if you got to the point that the death of a child didn’t bother you.”
Roy sagged against Maes. “I will never forget this, Maes. It’s written on my mind. If I believed in souls, this act would be branded there.” Roy paused, feeling Maes’ arms tightening a little, comforting him. “We will never leave this place, Maes. None of us. Armstrong has left but if we were to talk to him, now he’d say he’s still here. Chains…heavy chains will bind us here. We will drag these chains behind us until we die or go mad.”
Roy felt the gentle pressure of Maes’ forehead resting against his neck. “I have to believe we can break the chain, Roy. I couldn’t go home if I didn’t. I want you to believe it, too.” Maes turned Roy in his arms then kissed him firmly. Nothing erotica thrummed through the kiss, just pure comfort and devotion.
“How can you bear to touch me?” Roy choked the words out, wanting to break and crumble into the desert sand.
“Because I know no matter what they make you do here, what they try to turn you into, you aren’t a monster. A monster wouldn’t care. A monster would enjoy the power,” Maes paused for a moment. “Like Kimbley.”
Roy shook his head. “I will never become him.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Maes let Roy go then levered himself up. He held out a hand to Roy. “Let’s go back before we’re both killed out here.”
“Or someone sees us.” Roy let Maes help him up, polluted him with a murderous hand.
“I’ll stay with you when you talk to Riza about this,” Maes offered quietly as they trekked back towards the camp.
“She might finish me herself,” Roy replied bitterly.
“I’ll at least hold you down for her.” Maes flashed a gallows humor grin over his shoulder at Roy.
Roy snorted, his boots crunching along as he followed his friend. How did Maes always know what to say to him? Roy knew he wasn’t free from his dark thoughts, no, he would be chained to them for some time to come. However, with someone like Maes in his life, Roy held out hope he just might make it out sane. Guilt he would just have to learn to live with.
A Boys Blue story
cornerofmadness (DM Evans)(and mjules)Disclaimer – So not mine, all right belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, no profit made, just a lot of fun to be had
Rating – R for graphic violence
Pairing – Roy/Maes (mentions of Roy/Riza and Maes/Gracia)
Time Line –pre-series, manga based, this one is set during the Ishbal arc
Summary – The horrors of war catch up to Roy
Prompt – #13 excessive chain
Warning – contains graphic scenes of war
Author’s Note – written for the
30kisses project for Prompt – #13 excessive chain. While this is manga based there is one tiny element in here from the anime. However, I think it’s not just probably but highly likely something like it did happen in the mangaverse, especially given how long Roy and Maes were at the front. Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta. The title came from the song lyrics running through my head while working on this and it’s ironically the theme song for the same show my last Boys Blue was a homage to.For lyrics head here If you’d like to read the rest of the series, here you go All the Boys Blues
X X X
Roy wanted to die, wanted this to be the very end of himself. He had gone somewhere neither Maes nor Riza could save him. Memories tumbled in his mind, pulling like taffy, hurting more than they helped: Maes and their talks about having the eyes of killers now, transformed by the heat of the desert; Riza weakly defending herself against Kimbley’s accusations; Armstrong’s breakdown after killing a child and being sent back home. Roy had used Armstrong’s breakdown to keep himself comfortably numb. Now, he was beyond that, well into the realm of pain.
Roy didn’t have an important family like Armstrong. He wouldn’t be quietly removed if he refused to fight on. Gran would put him down like a mad dog; Maes had already seen the man do it to others. Roy might want to die but he wouldn’t give Gran that satisfaction.
Looking down at his ungloved hands, seeing dry, cracked skin baked by the heat of his fires and the unforgiving desert sun, Roy wondered how many had he killed with these hands? Too many to count so why now, he wondered, why come apart now? What was one more life?
‘ You know why, ’ a vicious little snake in his belly hissed. He and Armstrong had, in the past, let women and children escape. Roy would have let this boy go, too, except the poor thing had raised his gun. How ridiculous the kid had looked, a gun too big for him to hold properly but he had done his best to aim it.
Roy hadn’t doubted the lad wanted to kill him.
Roy had been faster.
Now he wished that he had let the boy kill him. Roy wished he had used his gun instead of alchemy but, as he investigated the house, hoping to find it clear and useful as a meeting point, Roy had been taken by surprise. To his shame, he had panicked. At least a gun was quick, nearly merciful. Instead, he had snapped and entered a new level of hell.
The boy’s screams echoed, still reverberating deep in his soul. Innocence burned away, red eyes wide with fear and agony as flesh melted from bone, perfuming the air with a sweet, sickly smell like roast pork. In the end, Roy pulled his gun and put the boy out of his misery, too stunned at his own actions to extinguish the flames at first.
He had stood over the boy. One side hadn’t burned. Roy gazed at a perfect little foot, its sandal a few feet away, sent airborne by the boy’s flailing. The other side of the child was nothing but roasted, black flesh and exposed bone.
Roy had barely turned away from the small corpse before vomiting. The powerful retching left him on his knees, dribbles of vomit dotting the deep blue of his uniform. Roy managed to collect himself just enough to finish the scouting job and report back an ‘all-clear.’ He had hogged the make-shift shower back at base camp, trying to clean the child’s death off of him, failing miserably. The scent of it coated him like sweat.
Avoiding anyone who might even remotely know him, Roy headed out into the desert. He had found his shelter against a crumbling remains of a wall. Maybe this close to an Ishbalan establishment, the military would think more along the lines of ‘killed in action’ than the coward’s way out, as if they wouldn’t be able to tell by the bullet’s angle of entry.
He knew he should immolate himself. It was what he deserved. Roy almost wanted to burn, to turn to ash and blow away like all those lives he had taken, like that innocent child who had just died so horribly at his hands.
But he was a craven creature. Roy couldn’t inflict that same horrific death on himself that he had on so many others. What if he couldn’t keep the flames up long enough to kill himself? No, a bullet was quicker, more sure. Roy didn’t want to leave himself wounded and crippled for the rest of his miserable life.
Sliding his gun free of the holster, Roy sighed, relieved at finally escaping this hell. The tip of the gun was like a warm, hard kiss against his temple. Roy fumbled for the trigger then changed his mind. He had heard of cases where the bullet simply skittered under the skin. He needed more certainty.
Roy put the gun under his chin. The trajectory would take the brain stem out, killing him instantly. He reached for the trigger. Agony exploded in his head and the gun clattered to the rocky ground. Pain followed pain and Roy threw up an arm instinctively to shield his head, as ludicrous as that was from a suicidal man.
“You fucking idiot!” Maes bellowed, still raining down blows. Invectives punctuated each contact his fists made, until Roy sprawled senseless and bleeding into the baked earth.
Roy flinched as arms went around him. Maes cradled Roy against his chest, his hand smoothing Roy’s hair, heedless of where they were and whoever might happen upon them.
“What were you thinking? You can’t leave us like this!” Maes’ voice was rough, dragging over Roy, leaving him raw. “How are your friends supposed to live with the knowledge you’d rather die than turn to us for help?”
“You can’t help,” Roy mumbled, his lips raw and swollen, their movement trickling blood into his mouth.
“You never even tried.” The hardness of that statement made Roy wince. He’d never seen Maes this angry.
Roy held out his dirt-smudged hands, barely able to see through his tearing, swelling eyes. “I killed a child with these hands, Maes,” he rasped out, his hands shaking. “He was just a boy and I burned him alive. The screams.” Roy leaned over, tumbling out of Maes’ grip. His stomach tried to empty again but there was nothing left but a thin steam of mucus. Roy barely perceived Maes’ hand circling his back, trying to comfort him. He wiped blood and mucus from his lips then looked back at Maes. “I can’t live with the monster I’ve become.”
“Did he have a gun?” Maes asked simply.
Roy stared at Maes as if he had suddenly lapsed into a strange language never heard before. “What?”
“The boy, was he armed?” Maes’ clear gaze was hard to withstand. Roy couldn’t look at him.
“What difference does it make?” Roy huddled up, knowing where Maes was going with this but he wasn’t ready to hear it.
“He would have killed you. Neither of you should have been in that position. We are forcing children to become killers and we are becoming murderers of this world’s future,” Maes said bleakly, gathering Roy back up in his arms.
“How did you find me?” Roy asked finally, trying to distance himself from the images in his head.
“You aren’t anywhere near as good as being covert as you think you are,” Maes scolded with a slight grin. “And you were so out of it, you didn’t hear me calling your name so I figured I’d better follow you to keep you out of trouble.”
Roy said nothing, simply rested back against Maes. Finally he said, “Will you tell Riza?”
“I think I should. You bent our trust, almost to the breaking point,” Maes replied after a moment’s thought and Roy huddled up against him. “I hate putting that burden on you, too, Roy, but you did. You could have tried to talk to us but you didn’t.”
“You have enough burdens without shouldering mine,” Roy murmured, wanting to crawl inside Maes’ skin, convinced he’d be safe there.
“Idiot. A burden shared is a burden lightened. You lean on us and we lean on you. That’s how it works.” Maes’ lips feathered quickly over Roy’s forehead. “If you had done this Roy, I would have cursed you until I no longer haunt this world. I can’t even imagine Riza’s reaction.”
“She would loathe me,” Roy whispered. “She gave up everything to follow me and I led her into death.”
“Not you,” Maes corrected, his hand coming up to cup the back of Roy’s head. “This was not what we had planned in the Academy, Roy. We were…naïve. You have done a terrible thing and it pushed you to a place you couldn’t bear to go. You didn’t even think about it, Roy. You just reacted.”
“You can’t tell me that this pain will fade,” Roy snarled, trying to pull free but Maes wouldn’t let him go.
“I don’t think you’ll ever not hurt when you think about that boy, Roy.” Maes rocked him. “You wouldn’t be the man I love if you got to the point that the death of a child didn’t bother you.”
Roy sagged against Maes. “I will never forget this, Maes. It’s written on my mind. If I believed in souls, this act would be branded there.” Roy paused, feeling Maes’ arms tightening a little, comforting him. “We will never leave this place, Maes. None of us. Armstrong has left but if we were to talk to him, now he’d say he’s still here. Chains…heavy chains will bind us here. We will drag these chains behind us until we die or go mad.”
Roy felt the gentle pressure of Maes’ forehead resting against his neck. “I have to believe we can break the chain, Roy. I couldn’t go home if I didn’t. I want you to believe it, too.” Maes turned Roy in his arms then kissed him firmly. Nothing erotica thrummed through the kiss, just pure comfort and devotion.
“How can you bear to touch me?” Roy choked the words out, wanting to break and crumble into the desert sand.
“Because I know no matter what they make you do here, what they try to turn you into, you aren’t a monster. A monster wouldn’t care. A monster would enjoy the power,” Maes paused for a moment. “Like Kimbley.”
Roy shook his head. “I will never become him.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Maes let Roy go then levered himself up. He held out a hand to Roy. “Let’s go back before we’re both killed out here.”
“Or someone sees us.” Roy let Maes help him up, polluted him with a murderous hand.
“I’ll stay with you when you talk to Riza about this,” Maes offered quietly as they trekked back towards the camp.
“She might finish me herself,” Roy replied bitterly.
“I’ll at least hold you down for her.” Maes flashed a gallows humor grin over his shoulder at Roy.
Roy snorted, his boots crunching along as he followed his friend. How did Maes always know what to say to him? Roy knew he wasn’t free from his dark thoughts, no, he would be chained to them for some time to come. However, with someone like Maes in his life, Roy held out hope he just might make it out sane. Guilt he would just have to learn to live with.
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