Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Dissimulation ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

A.N. - This is my first ever attempt at a FMA fic. I've only seen the anime, so no manga related stuff will be coming into play here. Sorry. Hopefully I've kept the characters IN character and everything straight. *crosses her fingers*

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or any of it's charcters. All crappy original characters do belong to me, though. Joy.

Dissimulation

Chapter 1

By: Penybright

“What could possibly bring a colonel of the illustrious State Military out to this hole-in-the-wall?” the blonde drawled facetiously, never bothering to look up. He kept to the shadows of the small chamber, his right side turned away from them and one leg tucked up under him.

“You,” the colonel deadpanned, waiting for some form of acknowledgement from the boy. A harsh laugh was all he got.

“Seems the military is really going downhill these days.”

“Indeed.”

The colonel studied the young man, trying to get a feel for his mental state and physical health. Most occupants of these places were treated worse than dogs. Often times they were beaten and poorly mistreated, locked away in dank concrete prisons and separated from human contact by thick iron bars.

“What do you want?” The voice was no longer haughty, filled with heat and energy. It was asked in barely a whisper, his voice laden with what the colonel could only describe as fear. Fear was good. He should be afraid of what people would ask of him because often times it was less than pleasant.

“I've come to offer you the chance of a lifetime. I can't say much here… as I'm sure you can understand. But, I'm quite certain this is something that will warrant your interest.”

“You want to put me into service?” the collared young man asked in disbelief. “How…” He finally turned to look at his visitors, golden eyes reflecting horrors that no human should have to endure. “They didn't tell you, did they?” It was more statement than question.

“Tell me what? About your past? Your talents? Perhaps you mean your temper? I could go on---“

“No! Damn-it…” He took a steadying breath. “They didn't tell you about the…” he fumbled for the right word, “ accident?” When he got no response from the uniformed bastard standing outside his cell, he forged on. “I'm afraid I'd be of little use to you or anyone else the way I am now, colonel.” He spit the title out with distaste, wishing the man would go away and just leave him alone.

“What do you…” The dark haired man's words died away as he watched the youth stand up, steadying himself against the grungy, cinderblock wall. His left leg hadn't been tucked up under the boy as he'd thought. It was completely gone from the knee down. His disbelieving eyes traveled upwards as the blonde hopped closer to the bars, grabbing onto them with one hand. Only one hand, because his right arm was also gone. Bruises mottled the visible skin, cuts and gashes overlaying them.

“Just how much do you really know about your precious military, colonel?”

The older man blinked. He'd expected the bruises and cuts, but this... To put it bluntly, the young man was a total wreck.

“More than I'd ever care to,” the man replied quietly, his flinty eyes holding the troubled teen's gaze for a fleeting moment. Smoothing his expression, he turned sharply to the woman standing beside him. “Lieutenant, inform Sergeant Baker that Mr. Elric will be coming with us. I think he'll suit our purposes just fine.”

The woman saluted briskly before setting off down the dim hallway, her footsteps echoing dully in the darkness.

“We have much to discuss, it would seem. It's a long trip back to Central. You'll have to fill me in on the way.”

Ed watched the man disappear into the shadows after the woman, unsure of what he should feel. Relief? Apprehension? Anger? Slumping back down onto his rickety cot, he rubbed a hand over his bleary eyes. Surely anything was better than where he was now.

*****

The squeak of the chair wheels seemed deafening to him as he was slowly steered through the bustling station. He refused to make eye contact with anyone, letting his gaze shift restlessly from the ground to his lap. He could feel them starring at him. Unconsciously, his bandaged hand reached up to the metal band around his neck before falling limply to his lap. No, they weren't gawking at that. It was common to see such a thing these days, anyway. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the looks of shock and disgust crawling over his skin. He was a cripple…deformed, useless, a freak.

How long had it been now, one year? Two? It seemed like an eternity ago that he had been whole. So much pain, so much suffering… His jaw tightened as he desperately tried to block out the images his musings dredged up.

Watery eyes snapped open as he came to a jerky halt, the woman clearing her throat to get his attention.

“The colonel's already on board. We should hurry,” she added, motioning to the car's steps. Ed eyed them dubiously. How was he suppose… A choking noise escaped him as he found himself suddenly lifted from the wheelchair, the blonde woman tossing his arm over her shoulder and guiding him to the steps. His face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as he mumbled something about being able to do it himself. He was given a dubious look, but she released him none-the-less. Gripping the guardrail fiercely, he hoisted himself up the steps and hopped to the box the woman indicated. Luckily for his ego, the first box inside the door was the one they had chartered. He uneasily lowered himself down onto the bench, ignoring the watchful eyes of the colonel and his subordinate.

As the door slid shut and he heard the woman retreating down the hall, Ed allowed himself to take everything in. After so many years of being locked away in a dingy cell, the outside world seemed larger than life. The sky was a clearer blue than the one in his memories, the sun exceedingly bright and warm. The bustle and the noise of the station were almost too much. He'd been locked in captivity for so long, slowly going stir crazy. His only interaction had been with the guard who brought him meals, and the man had practically been a mute.

His life hadn't always been so miserable, of course. He'd had a family, a place to call home before the coup d'etat. He'd never forget that day. The day the new Fuhrer had stepped into power and completely destroyed his life; his world. Bradley's first act as Fuhrer had been to hunt down and enslave or kill every alchemist in Amestris. That was where the collars came into play. Some sick son-of-a-bitch had invented the disgusting things to control alchemists. Every captured alchemist was forced into a collar, their powers being sealed from them unless they were compelled to use them by one designated as their Keeper.

Ed's fingers unconsciously skimmed over the cool band as he drifted back in time. The colonel's mouth dipped into a frown as he watched the boy across from him, something flickering in his onyx orbs.

“Your attitude certainly doesn't disappoint, Mr. Elric.”

Tawny eyes sharpened at the jibe. In the musty sunlight of the train car, he allowed himself a quick once over of his would-be savior. His eyes snagged on the dull metal collar wrapped snuggly around the man's neck.

“Ah yes, I forgot to mention that, didn't I?”

Ed scowled at the man. His smile was infuriating. The man was such a damn smug bastard.

“I'm sure that I wasn't what you were expecting and, I must confess, you aren't at all what I was expecting.”

The blonde's mood darkened further as the man drawled on.

“Your file was quite interesting. It listed you as seventeen. Is that true? You still look like a child…” The colonel watched in mild amusement as the boy stiffened in his seat. Apparently he'd hit a sore spot. It seemed that Edward was going to be an excellent addition to his unit.

“I've been led to believe that you're quite the prodigy. Some say you posses a rather unique talent in the forbidden art.”

The young man's lips tightened as he turned his face to the grimy window.

“Had,” he bit out, his eyes drifting listlessly over the drab countryside.

“Certain,” the colonel paused, searching for the proper word, “handicaps can be worked around.”

The boy snorted. One elegant, dark eyebrow rose in question.

“You're certainly confident.”

“Comes with the job,” the colonel smiled, taking delight in aggravating his new charge. “When we get back to Central, you'll understand.”

“Maybe I don't want to understand,” he murmured, his hand fisting the hem of his jacket.

The colonel's expression suddenly turned serious, his voice loosing it's teasing edge.

“You might discover things aren't always as they seem, Edward.”