Disclaimer: That is none of your business. *rolls eyes* Rude…
So…! I wanted to part take in Water-Alyssa's 100 theme challenge for the Kingdom Hearts fandom, but I also was inspired by Bookwrm[some-number-I-don't-know], Griselda Banks, and my inability to sit still without something to occupy myself with at 2:43 AM. So, it somehow transitioned to the FMA fandom. It's *cough, cough* NOT because they can favorite everything I do but never click the review button *cough, cough*, no, not at all. .
ANWAY! This story transitions from Parental!RoyEd (and sometimes Al) to Brotherly!EdAl, and to Maternal!RizaEdAl. Mister Ho might even find himself squeezed into this…mentions of EdWin and Royai.
No yaoi. No yuri. No problem. Got it memorized?
001: Beginnings
This first one's a poem. Oh joy.
The day I met him was an unconventional feat all its own
The sun cowered behind the clouds, and a pale light from them shone
The grass was wet with diamond tears, glimmering across the ground
The sun's cover, a dark veil of clouds, threatened to poor down
I made my way briskly to the front door
Shouting garbled obscenities, without answer, made me pound even more
With a swift kick to the stubborn door, I was granted access inside
The house was void of life, but whoever had lived here sure didn't abide
There was no incriminating evidence in the ground level, per se
The basement, however, was an entirely different story completely
The smell of iron came full swing at my nostrils
Nearly knocking me to the ground, the malodorous hotstiles
Weren't even the worst of it all
The scene in front of me made my skin crawl
Innards and limbs lay in a disheveled pile
Crimson puddles marred the alabaster tile
Bones the color of ash rest in the middle
In placid chalk, written is something short of a riddle
A recipe. A recipe for disaster
I ran up the stairs even faster
"Where are they? I want those boys found!"
I shouted upon stumbling on the compound
We interrogated the neighbors
There wasn't many, so it wasn't really a labor
But finding them was something else entirely
We couldn't, however, be deterred so easily
I barged into the house they rook refuge in like a mad devil
I grabbed him by the collar and brought him to eye level
"What was that? What did you do?" I was shouting
Then I looked at him — really looked at him — and my anger began doubting
His left leg was missing, his right arm, too, his golden eyes were dead
And a thought of regret passed through my head
It had taken his leg and his arm as payment
And here I had come, barreling in from the wet pavement
Only to roughly find a grip on him and shout in his face
A voice sounded from above me, repentance within it lace
It repeated "We're sorry, we're sorry." on the boys' behalf
It took a steep blow at my heart's shafts
Slowly, I lowered the boy back into the wheelchair, and my head swam
I heard the kid was talented, but he's probably better than I am
I sat calmly in a chair, my composure recovered
And listed the possibilities I discovered
Would come to them if he took the test
A test that determines the fate of the best
Still, the boy didn't utter a word
Leaving the grandma to protest as he sat unheard
I half-listened to the lady as I stared at the kid
Then she said something truly heart-breaking about his kindred
His father had walked, his mother had folded
That's he committed the taboo upholded
Only by fools
Who wish to be used as sacrificial tools
All he wanted was to see his mother's smile one last time
"We're sorry. We're sorry." resounded again, falling in line
With the absence of noise caused
By the old woman's pause
I took one last, long look at him, then took my leave
Walking out of the house and into the wet eve
The clouds had begun to fall in unceremonious puddles
I ran to the car and huddled
As the lieutenant spoke up, "I've never seen eyes that dead."
I bit back a chuckle for how she was misled
"That's what you saw? No…there was fire in those eyes."
I had a feeling he'd be back, that the grandma had told lies
And as it turned out, I was right on the money
For I saw in my office, the very next year
Eyes the color of honey
Shining without fear
He passed the test of course and made it through the ranks
I was given a rather generous promotion as thanks
But the real gift, and curse, was my young subordinate's presence
As he would give a report, he was a true storyteller in essence
Yelling and throwing his hands around to signify catches
And when he offended me, my office was turned into an arena for bilateral shouting matches
To anyone on the outside, it looked like was ostracized each other
If this was the case, we could have always impeached one another
He would be sent to serve under another colonel on a whim
And I would be issued another major, one with fully-intact limbs
But when his jabs at my ambitions and my jabs at his height
Are stripped away from the equation, our relationships a very unique sight
He's like an adopted son, and despite me having no relation to his deceased mother
He's also like an obnoxious little brother
That can make any rainy day shine
With his boiling rage and undisguised maligns
With his painfully perusing, yet occasionally concerned gaze
That still had a vacillatingly wary, distrustful glaze
He's a headstrong, determined boy who's offensive towards most
But his angry and confrontational behavior is a half-way hoax
He's a melancholy and lonely child, forced to grow up before push came from above
And that fire I saw in his eyes comes from trying to protect the ones he loves
Slowly, I find myself included in that small group makes of
His younger brother, the fourteen-year-old he's been forces to take care of
His childhood crush that acts as a mechanic for his prosthetic arm and leg
And her grandmother that made the 2nd lieutenant drop into a beg
We're the only ones left alive after what he tried
In that basement for his lovely mother that died
He carries on his shoulders, for both him and his brother, the blame
That heavy burden that forces him into an emotional exile of shame
He thinks so lowly of his own life, the fifteen-year-old's willing
To step into the line of fire to spare his brother a scratch, even if it means his own killing
When he's sick, he'll keep it hidden so as not to worry him
When he throws up blood on my carpet as a side-effect, the last of his kin
Is the only person he cares about, and if he saw it at all
He treats him with the care of a porcelain doll
With no disregard to his own health,
He'll keep him safe, but when he forgets himself
That's where I come in, to play the role
He is for his brother and take his toll
When he forgets to eat, almost starving himself dead
I'm usually the one who makes sure he's fed
When he wakes up, it's almost always heralded by screams
And his brother can never succumb to bliss dreams
So when he deprives himself of sleep to prevent his night-frights
I'll be the one to make sure he's tucked in tight
When he's shot at, but refuses medical leave
I'll make sure he's hooked up to an IV
And when his distrust gets the best of him
I'll be the one he can put faith in
When he's sick and won't admit it
I'll yank it out of him, and make him commit it
To memory
That he may fool him, but he can't fool me
And I'll get him the help that he needs
Even after his fever recedes
I'll shoulder the pain, I'll shoulder it all
I'll treat him with the care of a porcelain doll
And even when he denies any weakness is his
I'll treat him like the fragile creature he is
But don't get me wrong, he's the strongest kid I know
And if someone else besides me and his crush calls him short, they can expect a low blow
He can take care of his brother, and all of our citizens
Even those of other city's denizens
But he couldn't take care of himself for the life of anyone
His excuses are all generic and overdone
"I didn't think it was a big deal" "It's just a scratch" I'm fine"
Yet when I tell him to see a doctor, he'll whine
However, despite this fact and how we critique well
The boy and I are nothing if not equals
We're the dogs of the military, the lowest of the high
But we're in this together, that no one can deny
And when he insists he owes his brother a limb for what he's gone through
I'll "politely" remind him, he doesn't need another, he's already given up two