Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Training Edward Elric ❯ Deprivation ( Chapter 7 )

 

 

Training Edward Elric

 

Chapter Seven

 

Deprivation

 

 

Ed stared dully up at the ceiling of the cage with tired eyes. The hunger pains from that morning had turned into a dull, raw ache. That, combined with the rank smell of urine, made him want to retch. He didn't, but he wanted to. His body felt disgusting and his skin itched where the piss had dried. He wanted a bath, but not enough to ask for it.

 

He turned his head slightly and moved his eyes so that he could see Mustang. The man was watching him intently; like a hawk watching its prey, or a cat watching a trapped mouse. Ed sighed and turned his attention back to the ceiling. He was tired and wanted to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes a shock would race through him.

 

Ed suddenly smirked at the thought that he didn't feel quite as embarrassed about being naked as he had. For some reason it didn't really seem to matter as much. He'd take food, sleep, or a bath over clothes right now. It was almost funny how fast he'd thrown away his modesty...

 

Funny, in a horribly sick way...

 

When a knock sounded on the door, Mustang sighed heavily and pushed himself out of the chair. He stopped in front of the cage and gave Ed a level gaze before continuing to the door. Ed waited for whoever was there to speak, since he couldn't see the door. Whoever it was didn't speak, but they didn't need to. The smells of roast beef met his nose and his stomach gurgled in response.

 

A man in white with a band of black around his right sleeve, walked into Ed's line of sight. He was carrying a tray of food, and Ed's stomach rumbled loudly in response. Mustang walked past him, retrieved the small folding table from earlier, and set it up at the end of the bed, before motioning for the man to place the tray down. The man did so, bowed respectfully, and left without a word.

 

Ed swallowed hard as he began to salivate. He wanted to take his eyes away from the tray but he couldn't. The food there held him captive as surely as the cage did. He could almost feel it in his mouth... He licked his lips and watched as the colonel took a seat on the edge of the bed in front of the tray with a look that seemed almost... unhappy. Ed shook his head. He didn't see how that could be possible since Mustang had all that delicious looking food in front of him.

 

The colonel glanced at him with an unreadable expression, then picked up a fork and took a bite of the juicy meat. He chewed slowly, never seeming to take his eyes from Ed, then took a small sip of his drink. Ed involuntarily whimpered when Mustang took a second bite. It was just too much!! Normally he was starving at each meal, and he hadn't eaten since yesterday! His stomach growled loudly at not being fed and Ed tore his eyes away from the food to the ceiling again. It was only food... he tried to tell himself. He could do this. Mustang wouldn't really let him go without for that long, would he?

 

“This is really good...” he heard Mustang say, though for some reason it didn't' seem that the colonel really was enjoying the food. “I don't think I've ever had such a tender roast before. The seasoning is just right too. It's really plump and juicy. Too bad you don't want any.”

 

Ed growled and turned his head back to glare at the man. “Fuck you!” he spat angrily. It made him feel a little better, though not by much. The man simply ignored him and took a deep drink from the tall glass on the tray. Ed stared hard at it. Not only was he hungry, but he was beginning to get thirsty as well...

 

Worse, he had to pee again. It wasn't urgent, but... Anger filled him and he stared hard at the cage ceiling again. He'd hold it. No way was he going to ask to use the toilet, and no way was he going to recite that fucking litany!

 

Only... part of him was starting to wonder why not. Why not just say it so that he could make this easier on himself? Ed glanced at Mustang, who was buttering a roll. It's not like he'd have to actually mean what he was saying, right? All he had to do was say it... Ed shook his head, angry that he was even considering it. No way was he going to throw his pride away just to make this easier... He felt a suffocating feeling in his chest. This training was nothing like what he'd thought it would be.

 

“Well, that was definitely an amazing meal,” he heard Mustang say after a while. Ed tried his best to ignore the man, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the colonel stand up and walk to the cage. Scowling, Ed turned onto his side so that his back was to the man.

 

“This is the time that you would normally eat as well, though since you don't want to, I'm going to say the litany out loud for you to hear. That way you won't forget it when you're ready to say it.”

 

When my master is happy, I am happy.

When my master is sad, I am sad.

 

Ed mentally tried to tune out the words, but he found that he couldn't.

 

Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally.

 

Ed shook his head. He'd never serve Mustang.

 

My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal.

 

He rolled his eyes. Yeah, he was really being taken care of well...

 

My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him.

 

Ed wanted to ignore the words, but he couldn't. He only had one hand, so it wasn't as if he could cover his ears. Unfortunately, Ed had a great memory, and he found himself almost saying the words in his head with the man since he'd already heard them once before.

 

Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do.

If my master tells me to kill, I will kill, no matter who it is.

 

Never. Never, never, never...

 

My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him.

 

When Mustang was done, Ed heard him step away from the cage and then the sound of a door closing met his ears. Turning on his other side, Ed glanced around, but saw no one. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't seen Mustang go take a piss all day, so that's probably where he'd gone...

 

Biting his lip, Ed glanced at the back of his cage. He didn't want to do it, but... if he was going to, then he'd need to before Mustang came back out. Crawling awkwardly to the back of the cage, Ed moved up on one knee, steadied himself by leaning his shoulder against the wall, then grabbed his penis and pointed it toward the corner.

 

The smell of hot urine hit his nose as he relieved himself, and he grimaced. It was disgusting, but this was better than it getting on him... He felt mortified that he was doing this, but what else could he do? When he was done, Ed scooted back away from the puddle in the corner and stared at it dully. There was no way he'd be able to keep this up... Ed frowned deeply and felt uncertainty fill him. Mustang would have to feed him eventually, right? And he'd have to let him sleep too because Mustang would have to sleep himself... right...?

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

This day has been really shitty. REALLY shitty. The real training hasn't even begun yet and I want to leave. I'm sure Ed does too. I feel like I'm dragging; as if I'm saying the words and performing the actions, but they're not real. I don't really mean them. I just want to leave. I don't want to go through with this. Why did I let Ed talk me into this? I don't want to see him like this...

 

He's been relieving himself at the back of his cage and it smells disgusting. He won't be able to keep that up for long. The cage is well built and it's not going to leak out. Eventually, he'll have to realize that there won't be anywhere else for him to go. Of course, if he doesn't start eating and drinking soon, that will be the least of my worries.

 

It's obvious he's exhausted. I'm sure he'll give in on calling me `master', and saying the litany, soon. The will to survive is too strong in humans, though I'd say more so in him than in most.

 

It's not about him actually meaning what he says right now, of course. When he says it in the beginning he won't mean it at all, and I know that. All I need for him to do is say it; to be wiling to say it. That is the first step.

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

“Well, Eddie, I'm pretty tired, so I think I'm going to go to sleep.”

 

Ed looked up irritably and snapped, “Don't call me that!” His words weren't very convincing, though. The word `sleep' made him feel eager. With having no food, and no water since he was still refusing to drink out of the water bowl, Ed didn't have much energy to do anything but lay there.

 

Mustang moved toward the cage and held up a crutch. “I'm going to allow you to use this for the night.”

 

“Huh...?” Ed said, not understanding why he'd need a crutch to sleep. The colonel opened the door to the cage, stepped in, and grabbed onto Ed's arm before pulling him out. “What are you doing?” Ed demanded, though truthfully he was glad to be out of the damn thing.

 

Instead of answering him, Mustang dragged him to the middle of the floor where a small, circular, rubber mat lay on the metal floor. Pulling him up, the colonel had him stand there on his one foot, then slipped the crutch under his armpit. Ed looked down. The circle was small. There was barely enough room for someone to stand on it with two feet, but that was about it.

 

“You'll stand there for tonight,” Mustang said casually while walking to his bed. Sitting down, the man pushed a small button on the wall and said, “Stay on that circle, Eddie. If you fall off, you'll have to stand back up on your own. If you touch the floor, you'll feel some... unpleasant... sensations. The longer you stay on the floor, the more intense those sensations will be.”

 

Reaching over, Mustang pushed another button, and the room darkened. “Good night, Eddie. I hope you'll want to sleep tomorrow. I'm sure that standing all night, especially on one leg, can be tiring.” He paused, then said, “Remember why you're here, and remember that this is your choice. You've chosen this. You've also chosen not to eat, or use the toilet, or sleep. Everything to this point has been your choice. Think about that while you stand there.”

 

Ed glared at the man as he lay down. If he wasn't getting any sleep, then neither was Mustang! “If you think I'm going to be quiet so you can sleep, you're wrong! If I'm not sleeping, you're not sleeping!” Ed snarled angrily. “I can stay up longer than you, old man! You'll see! I'll...”

 

Ed continued on like that for a long while, but nothing he said caused the colonel to acknowledge him. Finally, he kept his peace. Yelling at the top of his lungs took more out of him than he'd thought it would, especially with him already so exhausted. His mouth was now very dry and his throat burned. He swallowed hard and glanced longingly over to the water bowl which was now unavailable to him.

 

He shifted his weight to the crutch, trying to relieve some of the pressure from his leg. It wasn't bad now, but if he really was going to stand there for eight or so hours, then he needed to find a way to keep himself from getting leg cramps. Ed could walk around for a long time with no problems, but just standing there?

 

He glanced down at his bare leg in the darkness. He just had the one for now. The crutch helped a bit, but not very much. It's most useful purpose was keeping him stable. He supposed he should be grateful... Mustang could have had him stand there without the crutch...

 

Ed shook his head. Grateful?! Fuck no! What the hell am I thinking? Ed thought to himself. He wasn't grateful! He was angry! Ed grasped a hold of his anger and held tightly to it for a while, keeping his thoughts focused on how much of a bastard Mustang was. Slowly, though, the negativity began to drain from him and he suddenly realized that though the anger had kept him going for a short while, he now felt more exhausted than ever.

 

The muscles in his leg were starting to burn now, and Ed leaned even more on the crutch. His head sagged against his chest and he almost felt like he could cry. Here he was, naked as the day he was born, hungry, thirsty, tired, dirty, and without the benefit of either his automail or alchemy. Ed felt a sudden lump in his throat and a burning in his eyes.

 

Helpless.

 

He was helpless, perhaps more than he'd ever been in his life. With the crutch steadied under his armpit, Ed carefully lifted his hand and tugged gently at the metal collar around his throat. His fingers traveled over the smooth surface and touched the arrays on each side. He couldn't figure them out, not without seeing them. It was so frustrating. What were they for? Why had there been blood when Mustang put it on him? Was the collar to blame for his not being able to use alchemy? How could he take it off? It seemed to be continuous; the metal so smooth without as much as a line to indicate where it would open.

 

Tiredly, Ed let his hand fall. How long had he been standing there? Two hours? Three? He didn't know. Could have been more, could have been less. It felt like forever. Again, he let his head drop wearily to his chest and this time he felt his body start falling asleep. He'd doze off for a second, then wake up suddenly when he realized what he was doing.

 

Ed shook his head. He had to stay awake! Unfortunately, lack of sleep and sustenance lured his unwilling mind into unconsciousness, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor. His eyes snapped open at the mild throbbing sensations that were coursing through his body. He groaned and slowly began to sit up. As he did so, the throbbing grew worse and the aching in his muscles became a slight cramp.

 

Gritting his teeth, Ed crawled over to the rubber pad. The skin that was touching the metal floor was beginning to sting and burn, and a buzzing sound was beginning in his head. His muscles were beginning to contract and retract painfully. When he reached the pad, Ed knelt unsteadily on it with his knee and lifted his lower leg up so that it wasn't touching the ground. Instantly, the pain was gone, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. His hand, now resting on the crutch, slowly slid the crutch to an upright position.

Ed stared up at it, trying to figure out how he was going to get back to a standing position without touching the floor again. It didn't take him long to figure out that there was no way. Not with only one foot and one arm. Involuntarily, Ed glanced to the bed where Mustang slept. He could try to wake the colonel and ask for help... His features darkened stubbornly. But that would require him to be deferential—to call the man `master'.

 

Ed rested his head against the crutch and blinked rapidly when tears came unbidden to his eyes. This wasn't training... it was torture. How could Mustang treat him like this? How could he be so cruel?

 

`Remember, this is your choice... Everything to this point has been your choice.' Mustang's words rang loudly in Ed's head.

 

His choice.

 

Gritting his teeth, Ed held tightly to the crutch, pushed back on his heel and cried out as pain gripped the soul of his foot. Quickly, Ed hopped to the rubber pad and the pain faded. Breathing heavily, Ed let out a small sob.

 

It had been his choice, all of it. He'd chosen not to take C-2 training. He'd chosen to come here, and he'd chosen Mustang... Suddenly, he realized that, yes, Mustang would have fed him, and let him use the toilet, and even let him sleep, if he'd only asked. If he'd only said that dumb litany and asked...

 

He sniffled and clumsily wiped at his eyes, feeling stupid for being so emotional, but not able to help it. What would it hurt if he just said what Mustang wanted him to? Well... it would hurt his pride, but other than that... Not like he had to mean what he said, right?

 

Something else that Mustang had said hit him and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. The colonel had told him to remember why he was here... He was here to become a C-5. He was here so that he could have access to important documents; important research that could possibly be what he needed to get Al's body back. What good was he doing Al by being stubborn? After all, that's why he didn't take C-2 training, right? So that he could hurry and become a C-5.

 

He felt like such a loser... Calling the colonel `master', and saying that litany shouldn't matter as long as he was doing what he needed to so that he'd be able to get Al's body back.

 

It shouldn't, but it did.

 

Not only was it humiliating for him to call anyone `master', but that litany... it was just... horrible. Besides that, Ed already felt so helpless. It was as if he still had a tiny bit of control by not doing what Mustang wanted him to do. Yet resisting was making him miserable, and it wasn't helping Al any either.

 

Tears filled his eyes again and he silently let them come. He was just so tired and so hungry that he couldn't even think straight. Ed glanced at the bed, at Mustang's sleeping form in the darkness, and tried not to cry too loudly. He didn't want to give in, yet he knew he would. The knowledge loomed darkly over him, making him feel deeply depressed. He would give in eventually because Mustang wouldn't, that much was obvious.

 

Ed leaned on the crutch. He didn't want to give in... He'd hold out as much as possible, though he didn't know how far away that point was. With silent tears trickling down his cheeks, Ed tried to stay awake...

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

It's morning, but I really didn't get much sleep. I only dozed slightly, waking up at every little noise Ed made. I heard him fall all four times and I heard him cry... Even when he was merely sniffling, I could hear him. The last time he fell, and how he cried both in pain in frustration... it broke my heart. I wanted to turn over and help him, but I couldn't. It would undo everything I've done so far. I can't help him yet.

 

He's still standing there, looking tiredly at me as I write this. He looks rather sullen as well, but I think he's almost ready for what's coming next. I don't know if I am though. I hate doing this. I hate seeing him like this, and knowing that I'm the one responsible. When I think of Ed, I want to imagine the bright, smug, and sometimes frustrating teenager that has been stationed under me these past years, not this tired, fearful, and angry child.

 

I've been holding out on my end, and it's not fair to Ed. I'm holding out because I don't want to change either. Perhaps I'm resisting it as much as Ed is. But I know I have to change. I must, or I will fail.

 

So Edward, my young subordinate... I'm going to say goodbye to you for now. I'll try not to forget you, I'll try to bring you back in the end, but for now I have to let go. You are no longer Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People. You are Eddie, C-5 in training, property of Roy Mustang.

 

As important as it is for you to remember that, it's important for me too. I don't want to, but I must. I'll do it for you, because it's what you want, even though you don't know it. I've helped you as much as I can to regain what you and your brother have lost; I won't fail you now. Please don't hate me for what I'm doing, and what I will do.

 

I'm going to put this journal down now, Ed, and with it, I'm going to let go of you. Goodbye, Edward. I promise I won't forget you.

 

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I'm sorry for the long wait. I actually had this chapter all written, but I was so unsatisfied with what I had that I threw out the whole thing and started over. I really like this version much better.

 

Again, sorry for the long wait. I'll try to get the next chapter out much sooner than it took me to get this one out.

 

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