Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Training Edward Elric ❯ Progress ( Chapter 12 )

 

 

Training Edward Elric

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Progress

 

 

In the past week, Eddie's rapid progress has stagnated somewhat. I know I've written at length about this subject several times, but there is nothing else for me to dwell on other than that. We've been here at the training center for two weeks. The pace at which he was moving forward was remarkable, but then it just stopped.

 

Looking back, I think the examination was a large factor. I was so pleased at some of the choices Eddie made during that visit. I really felt as though he was starting to move on. But, after that, Eddie made no further progress, and there have been times this week where he digressed backward—back to being snappish and stubborn. I've had to punish him severely for the most ridiculous things. Perhaps he wasn't ready for the steps he made while Knox was here, or maybe my expectations are too high. In one week, Eddie reached a point that usually takes many other trainees a month or more.

 

Despite what Knox said, I don't believe I'm being too soft on Eddie. I am his trainer; I know what he needs. Doctor Knox may have been at this facility for a long time, but he's only seeing one part of this. He's not an alchemist and he's no longer in touch with what the military is like outside of this facility. He has never taken C-3 training, nor will he ever. Not only have I had training that he hasn't, but I've also had the benefit of knowing Ed. I understand him. I know that the path I'm taking on this is the right one.

 

The only break in the monotony this week was submitting that report to the director. He's very interested in Eddie's progress, though I suppose he would be. Eddie is definitely a special case... He's the youngest trainee ever to set foot in the facility, and the fact that he came willingly (though admittedly naïvely) seems to be of much interest to many.

 

But I've already gone over that in my other entries, and I don't want to be repetitive. I think I'm only writing now out of sheer boredom. I'm not allowed to have books in the first part of the training. Supposedly it's to keep my attention focused on the task at hand.

 

I admit that I've used a few pages in this book to doodle some arrays... Probably not the most proper use for this journal, but I needed some relief. Being stuck in this room is really starting to wear on me, and I'm sure it's starting to wear on Ed. So far today, Eddie has been doing well. I wonder if he's grown weary of testing his boundaries, or of being a little brat, or whatever the reason has been for his recent disobediences.

 

I think so, or perhaps I just want to believe it. Maybe it's only my desire to bring this part of the training to an end, which makes me think it. And yet... he does seem quite settled today.

 

Perhaps I should test that theory...

 

0-0-0-0

 

Ed rolled over onto his side and stared through the bars at where Mustang was, again, writing in that stupid book of his. It wasn't fair that Mustang got stuff to do and he had to just hang out here in this lame cage...

 

Of course, Mustang was probably still displeased over how he'd acted last night... It wasn't as if Ed had done anything really bad... Okay, so he'd been a real jerk and had started cussing and stuff when Mustang got fed the good food and Ed was stuck with the shitty military rations, but it wasn't fair...

 

Ed knew that he'd been unreasonable, but it was just... He sighed and turned over onto his back again to stare up at the ceiling of the cage. When Doctor Asshole had come last week, Mustang had seemed so pleased with Ed; and Ed, on the other hand, had become a little bothered at some of the things he'd done, things he wouldn't have done before they'd come to this place. It was also distressing to find that having done some of those things seemed perfectly normal, as if it were only right that he should ask Mustang for help and call him master.

 

But it wasn't normal.

 

It wasn't!

 

Ed felt like he was losing himself and becoming someone he didn't recognize. It was like he could see it happening, but he was powerless to stop it. He didn't want to be powerless... He didn't want to change... Ed felt as though he was sliding downward on a slippery slope. Even though it would just be easier to slide downward, he kept fighting to regain his footing and get back to the top.

 

But after a week of trying to force his way back to who he'd been, Ed was finding that person was gone... He wasn't there anymore. It just didn't feel as natural to snap at Mustang or to insult him. It seemed... wrong. And besides that, Ed was starting to become acutely aware of this look in Mustang's eyes whenever he had to punish him. It was like he was disappointed in him. Not angry, but disappointed...

 

Ed rubbed at his eyes, then sat up and scooted toward the bars. He looked out at Mustang, trying to remember why he was resisting in the first place. Why did he want to go back to being who he was before? Wasn't Mustang trying to help him?

 

With a sigh, Ed rested his head on the bars and wondered why he was making this so difficult on himself. The memories in his mind were fuzzy and trying to make them clear just gave him a headache.

 

“Mu...” Ed began, then corrected himself. “Master?” He waited for the annoyed feeling he always got when he had to call Mustang that. It was still there, but becoming fainter every day.

 

Mustang looked up curiously, then said mildly, “Yes, Eddie?” Ed paused, letting himself feel the revulsion at the name; letting himself bask in the emotion and felt pleased that it was still there. He didn't want to accept that name, but at the same time, he found that it bothered him less with each passing day. Ed glanced away toward the bed. Mustang was looking at him expectantly; but, in truth, Ed had simply wanted to break the silence, and now found that he had nothing to say.

 

“Uh...” he said, drawing out the moment while he tried to think of something. “Um, well... it's nothing,” Ed finally said. He felt stupid now because he hadn't had anything to say. He also felt slightly guilty for wasting Mustang's time with something so trivial, despite the fact that Mustang hadn't really been doing anything.

 

Closing the book and setting it on the nightstand, Mustang stood up and walked over to the cage, he looked in at Ed for a moment, then stuck his hand in and lightly touched Ed's head.

 

“I think it's time for another haircut,” Mustang said thoughtfully.

 

Instant protest gripped Ed, but he didn't say anything. He could complain, but really he just didn't have the energy right now and he was tired of the punishments. His recent bout of disobediences had gotten him nowhere and he was starting to wonder if he should just give it up. Besides, he wanted to get out of his cage. The cage was tall enough for him to stand up in, but it was small, making it hard to move around in, and sometimes he felt a little claustrophobic. Also, sitting on the floor was hard and uncomfortable, and there were no smooth sides for him to sit up against. There were sheets of metal outside on each side and on the back of the cage, but they were behind the bars, so they did him no good. There were times that Ed idly wondered if they were removable. It would be really nice to have more than just one side of the cage to see out of.

 

Ed watched as Mustang gathered a chair and some hair cutting tools before opening the cage door and extending his hand to Ed. My reward, Ed thought as he took Mustang's hand. The help to the chair was his reward for not complaining and for being obedient like he was supposed to be. He'd watched the pattern emerge over the last couple of weeks. When he complained or was disobedient in any way, it always seemed as though everything were much harder. It wasn't always anything big. Sometimes it was something as simple as Mustang making him fend for himself, but it was always there.

 

On the same note, whenever Ed was `good', whenever he obeyed without question, didn't complain, or even when he went out of his way to be manageable or ask for help, then it was as if his life in general was much easier. It could mean that he might get a piece of fruit, or that Mustang would help him to the restroom, or even that Mustang was just... nicer to him overall... in ways that weren't always easy to explain.

 

Ed sat on the chair silently as Mustang gave him his second buzz cut. It wasn't nearly as traumatic as that first haircut, but he couldn't help feeling a little saddened by the act. It wasn't as if growing his hair out again would return him to the way he used to be... He felt the small pieces of hair fall on his bare shoulder and back, and he could feel the hairs inching between the collar and his neck, but tried not to squirm even though it itched.

 

The mechanical buzzing of the razor stopped and then a moment later he felt Mustang's hand on his skin, slowly brushing the small hairs away. Ed swallowed and tried not to think about the touch, but it was difficult. During the last week, his mind had constantly reminded him that he'd jerked off to fantasies of himself with Mustang. Sometimes he'd even had to turn on his side, with his back toward the man, to hide the erection he got.

 

It was humiliating and he wanted it to stop, but it was like his traitorous brain was reminding him of that specifically because Ed didn't want to think about it. Ed supposed it was like when someone told you not to think about something and you found yourself thinking of the very thing you were told not to for the sole reason that you were forbidden to do it.

 

Ed couldn't understand it. He'd never been attracted to Mustang, and yet he continuously found himself being drawn to the man. It wasn't just sexually, but... it was something Ed couldn't describe. This magnetism toward Mustang also seemed to be what was pushing him to behave or be deferential. But the frustrating thing was that Ed really didn't understand where this was coming from. It wasn't as if anything big was happening to make him feel like this. Every day was the same... There was no change that Ed could see.

 

Mustang's hand had stopped now and was resting on Ed's shoulder. He could feel the man's thumb slowly rubbing his neck beneath the collar. It felt good—the touch. Ed didn't want it to feel good, but he couldn't deny that it did. Part of him felt like he wanted something more, but he wasn't sure what...

 

The silence in the room was total and Ed felt himself becoming nervous and antsy as he considered how he felt about the touch. He could hear Mustang sigh softly behind him and wondered what the man was thinking about. Was he thinking about him? Could he be thinking anything similar to what Ed was thinking? He didn't think so, but...

 

“You need a shower,” Mustang finally said.

 

Ed nodded, feeling curiously relived and disappointed at his words. He wasn't thinking about him at all then; or, at least, not on the level that Ed was thinking. But, a shower would be great, definitely better than having to deal with having the hair clippings on his body. He watched as Mustang retrieved the crutch leaning against one of the walls and handed it to him.

 

“Go shower.”

 

Ed blinked and stared at the crutch in surprise. He'd only ever used this when having to stand all night—something he'd had to do just two nights ago. Mustang always accompanied him in the shower because Ed had the disadvantage of having only one arm and leg.

 

He looked up at Mustang and saw that the man was watching him. It was as if he was observing Ed to see what he'd do with this change. Ed was on the verge of saying something, then decided against it. He'd been told to take a shower, and been given a way to do it on his own. Ed supposed he should be glad of that. At least he would get to shower by himself. It was always slightly uncomfortable having to shower with Mustang—especially since they were usually touching in one way or another, and because he had to bathe Mustang as well.

 

But now he'd get to shower on his own. Even though it would be difficult, he'd get to be alone! He wasn't even allowed to be alone when he pissed! The last time he'd been alone had been... Ed felt a little embarrassed as he remembered that, and forced the thought away. He should be happy about this unexpected turn, but for some reason that wasn't the emotion he felt at all. He felt... confused... unsure...

 

With a nod, Ed stood, then stopped when Mustang put a hand on his shoulder. “A nod isn't good enough,” he said, then waited expectantly.

 

Ed stared at him for a moment, then said, almost in a mumble, “Yes, master.” He thought it was sort of stupid to have to verbally confirm that he was going to do what Mustang told him to do. He didn't understand why it wasn't enough just to do it.

 

Mustang took his hand away and waited silently, so Ed hobbled slowly to the bathroom. He took a moment to look at himself in the full length mirror, but he felt too disgusted by what he saw to linger. That wasn't him staring back through the glass. It was someone else... It was that person Eddie that Roy kept calling him, and that wasn't who Ed was.

 

Ed turned on the water and gracelessly positioned himself under the warm spray. It felt good and he let himself revel in the warmth for a moment before grabbing the soap. He glanced to the door, expecting to see Mustang, thinking that perhaps he would have come in, but he wasn't there. With a deep frown, Ed steadied himself then awkwardly began to wash.

 

Every few seconds, Ed would glance toward the door, but he never saw Mustang. It was... odd... He felt odd. It was as if something was missing, and he was surprised by how disappointed he felt over the man's absence.

 

The shower didn't take long; and, when he was done, Ed almost grabbed the towel before stopping. Mustang had told him to shower... but he hadn't said to dry off... Ed felt confused and wary. It made sense to dry off after showering, but... but... but Mustang hadn't told him to do so!

 

Ed glanced again at the door. Mustang would have heard the shower go off. He might be wondering why Ed was still in the bathroom... Feeling horribly indecisive, Ed reached out his hand toward the towel, and again he stopped. Finally he shook his head and hobbled out of the bathroom. He found himself worrying about the water dripping on the floor. Would Mustang be upset about that? Ed knew that if Mustang decided to press his palms to the metal floor and send a shock his way, it would be magnified by the water around him.

 

Why did he do this to me? Ed wondered, feeling frustrated. Why didn't he come with me? Why didn't he give me better instructions? When he was in the bedroom, Ed stopped and looked at Mustang, feeling resentful that he was now dripping on the floor, still wet, because Mustang hadn't told him to dry off. He felt like a complete fool, and it was Mustang's fault.

 

Mustang glanced up from where he was sitting on the bed and eyed him silently, then glanced down at the floor where a small puddle was forming around Ed's feet. Ed felt the urge to vent his frustration, to demand answers. But insolence would get him no where and Mustang never answered demands.

 

But sometimes he did answer questions if they were phrased right...

 

“Master...” Ed said. “You...” He was about to say `You didn't tell me to dry off', but he stopped himself. Instead, he said, “I'm sorry that I'm dripping water on the floor, but I was only told to shower, not to dry off.” Yes, that sounded sufficiently humble, but it also sounded pathetic to Ed's ears. And yet, frustratingly enough, Ed felt satisfied with how he'd phrased it. He waited, hoping that Mustang might explain himself.

 

“You didn't ask,” Mustang said simply. Ed blinked. He didn't ask?! Well, of course he hadn't asked! He hadn't thought about asking! Mustang stood and walked toward him. “I shouldn't have to tell you everything. You must know me well enough to understand what I want you to do without me saying it outright. And, if you don't understand, then it is important that you ask.”

 

“So... you're saying that you did want me to dry off?” Ed asked, trying to make his tone even, despite the fact that he felt frustrated and embarrassed.

 

Mustang raised an eyebrow. “Do you really believe I would want you to stand there wet and dripping?”

 

“Yes!” Ed snapped without thinking. “After all the things I've had to go through? Hell yes!” He knew this was definitely the wrong response, but he felt so angry—angry at Mustang for not telling him what to do, angry at himself for having not done the right thing, and embarrassed that he had fallen short of what had been expected of him. He felt so inadequate right now and completely pathetic for feeling the way that he did. He should have asked... He should have thought to ask!

 

Mustang pressed his lips together tightly, then sat back down on the bed. “Very well,” he said unhappily, and Ed waited expectantly for his punishment. “You'll stand there until both you and the floor are dry.”

 

Ed looked at him for a moment, then nodded and said, “Yes, master.” It came out as more of a growl than anything else, and Mustang's eyes narrowed. Ed tried to hold his gaze, but he found that he couldn't and dropped his eyes downward. He saw water on the floor below him before his eyes rested on his shriveled penis. Being cold and wet had caused it to wither and pull back toward his body.

 

Lovely, Ed thought sarcastically, thinking about how his manhood was small enough without it looking even smaller. Well, whatever, he thought and shifted slightly to try finding a more comfortable position for the crutch under his arm. He was going to be here for quite a while...

 

0-0-0-0

 

...and I'm not quite sure if I did the right thing or not. Eddie was right in not taking action when he wasn't sure if it was what I wanted. I was of a mind to praise him for that. He's had to be told every little thing he could do since we came here, so his actions weren't unexpected (and, in fact, I had hopped for an outcome similar to this. This shows that we've made progress). But, then again, he needs to get to the point where he knows what I want instinctively. That is a little beyond his grasp right now and if it hadn't been for his flippant attitude, I would have praised him.

 

But enough of that. I had the chance to let him know what would be expected of him. That is something at least. I just wish he would grasp onto the concept that if he would only ask and ask contritely, then he would get the information he needs.

 

0-0-0-0

 

Ed gave a small sigh and shifted his weight. He supposed it must have been at least two hours, but it was hard to be sure. There was no window in the bedroom and no clock either. It was enough to drive one insane... or at least disturb someone greatly.

 

Looking up from the now dry floor, Ed said softly, “Master?”

 

Mustang didn't look up from his book, nor did he do anything different at all, but Ed knew he had Mustang's attention. He couldn't exactly explain how, but it was just something he felt...

 

“I'm sorry about earlier,” Ed said contritely.

 

“What about earlier?” Mustang asked.

 

Of course, Ed thought wearily to himself. Specifics... “I'm sorry about my bad behavior and about what I said.” There was a long moment of silence before Mustang got up from the chair, set the book aside, and moved over to where Ed was standing.

 

“And what else?” Mustang asked.

 

Else? Ed wondered and wracked his brain, trying to come up with something else, but to no avail.

 

Mustang must have seen the puzzlement on Ed's face because he said, “You should also be sorry for not knowing what I wanted. I sent you to do something and you didn't bother finding out all the information first. Not only were you lax on that, but you had no idea what my desire for you was. These are things you must work on. Everything you do must be done with me in mind.”

 

There was a slight pause as Mustang looked him over, then he continued. “Even something as simple as taking a shower must be done with me in mind, because the fact that you are taking a shower is something that I desire you to do. You must always know what I would want you to do and your every thought must be of how best to serve me.”

 

Ed searched Mustang's face, his first thought being that Mustang must be either joking or off his rocker, but he wasn't... Mustang was dead serious. He meant every word he said. And why wouldn't he? That's what Ed was here for, wasn't it? To become, in essence, Mustang's slave? But it was more than that... It wasn't just any slave. There was rhyme and reason to it. There was a purpose that Ed wasn't sure he really understood—or maybe he just didn't want to understand.

 

As if his mind thought it would be of some use, he instantly heard the litany in his mind.

 

When my master is happy, I am happy.

When my master is sad, I am sad.

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

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

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

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.

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

 

No... the military wasn't spending all this money to train alchemists to be lap dogs...

 

If my master tells me to kill...

 

Ed felt a shiver run up and down his spine, and felt some of the horror he'd first felt when hearing those words. No, not at all... Somehow this was supposed to make him an even better weapon than being only a State Alchemist. He wasn't going to just be an attack dog, but one who was trained to be deeply loyal...

 

If Ed had believed in a god, he might have said a small prayer for that god to help him. But he believed in none, so he simply swallowed and nodded to Mustang.

 

“I will work on my temper and my words. And I will remember to ask you questions and I'll always keep you in mind,” Ed said as docilely as he could muster. That was more than he could have done when he'd first come here.

 

Mustang gave an approving nod, then moved over to the cage and opened the door. He didn't say anything, simply looked at Ed. And Ed, for his part, didn't need to be told. He hobbled over to the door, handed Mustang the crutch, and moved inside.

 

With a heavy sigh, Ed lay down on the floor and tried to relax. His leg and under his armpit ached, but that was only secondary to the ache in his heart and the lump in his throat. He wanted to believe that he'd never, ever, do anything that was against his beliefs. He'd never kill someone... But, he never would have believed he would one day call Mustang `master', or act so deferential to him. He never would have believed he would masturbate with Mustang in mind, or think nothing of living his life completely naked.

 

But calling Mustang `master' was almost—though not quite—second nature now, and being naked was nothing. His pride had long since given up on believing it indecent. And thinking of Mustang while... Ed shook his head. He didn't want to believe it, but he had a horrible feeling that one day he might do anything Mustang told him to without a second thought.

 

--

 

Sorry for the wait. Thanks for reading :)