Nemo me impune lacessit | By : RiekaDeVolka Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 996 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Nemo
me impune lacessit.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Greed/Envy, Edward/Envy.
Beta: None.
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: Mind-fuckage? I’d say Angsty romance, sorta-maybe-AU.
Warnings: I’m not paying your therapy. Non-con, uke!Envy, character
death(s).
Feedback: Very welcome, please!
Word Count: 3 300.
Summary: Looking at him, Edward realized they were trying to fix the
unfixable.
Author's Notes: I started writing this, right after I posted
‘Desiderata’, but I dropped it because I was in exams and then life got complicated
and I almost not quite forgot about it. Then, I rewrote it with the help of
some of my class notes in Psych and decided to make it more of a journal. Originally,
it was going to be a drabble. What’s with me that all my drabbles like to
spawn? Also, I’m very mean with Roy in this. Note that the movie canon was
completely lost on me. Split in parts, because it makes more sense that way. Sort
of.
Nemo me impune lacessit.
Max Plank Institute for Psychiatry.
Munich, Germany.
From the personal notes of Doctor Edward
Heiderich,
Head of the Criminalistic Ward.
Saturday, September 21st, 1957.
They have brought yet another one today.
He was unconscious when I saw him, but I must say I couldn’t quite stop the
pang of pity he provoked in me. I can only be thankful that Abendroth didn’t
notice. After I issued the formal complaint about treatment to irreversible
damaged patients, he’s been utterly insufferable. It’s a shame I seem to be
incapable of being as indifferent to these people as my colleagues. For me,
even as sunk as they are in their illness, they are human beings, and their
dignity should remain untouched. For the umpteenth time, I think I should have
chosen another place to work in, given the main purpose of this institution is
research through methods that consist mostly in stripping someone of his
dignity.
With the famished quality in my newest
subject, though, I sadly doubt he will survive the month. I cannot believe that
a being with such weakened limbs and thin bone structure was capable of such a
gruesome crime. According to the reports I was given, he slitted a man’s
throat, nearly cutting his head off by the sheer violence of the attack, before
tearing his eyes out. The victim – Rötger Muller, age 32 – had been clearly
overpowered by his attacker. He would have been sentenced to death since he had
confessed immediately and taunted the officials that caught him, but during
interrogation he began to talk nonsense in a delirious tone that made the
tribunals reconsider. With no one to speak for Muller: no wife, no children and
no friends, they probably decided it would be a bureaucratic bother just to
send a mad man to the gallows.
My first interview with him will be next
Monday, and I’m afraid I must admit I’m quite intrigued with this one. Perhaps
with new therapy his case will shed some light onto my own investigation.
~*~*~
From the clinical report of Doctor
Edward Heiderich,
Head of the Criminalistic Ward.
Monday, September 23rd, 1957.
Case Number: OP-0080925-227
Name: Unknown, insists on being called ‘Envy’.
Age: Unknown, I believe him to be in his early twenties.
Sex: Male, though at first it was unclear by the sheer ambiguity of his bone
structure.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Weight: 52 Kg, I’m hoping our feeding regime can make him gain a stone or two.
Height: 5’5
Notes: The patient suffers from extreme paranoia and a severe degree of
schizophrenia. The examinant believes his hallucinations induced him to commit
the crime, as he’s quite responsive to any stimulus. He seems to suffer a
fixation with his appereance, his hair most importantly, and a recurring
visualization of a tattoo on his left thigh. The patient has a sufficiently
fluent knowledge of the language, but a recurring weakness for the use of
inadequate or insulting words and phrases. The examinant seems to have been
absorbed into this world of his, as the patient refers to him as ‘Fullmetal
brat’ and ‘Fullmetal pipsqueak’. He seems to have a high degree of confidence
on himself and a strange sense of familiarity towards the examinant. Transcript
of first interview for further reference.
[Case number: OP-0080925-227
Examination recording number: 1
Physician/Psychiatrist: Heiderich, Edward.
Recording date: Monday, September 23rd, 1957
Recording time: 11:30:27]
Heiderich:
Hello.
[Snort, shuffling of cloth.]
“Hi there, Fullmetal pipsqueak.”
Heiderich:
I beg your pardon?
“Oh, it’s you alright, just not you. Of
course not, fucking shit, because you wouldn’t remember. Shame on you, I
still do.”
[Clearing throat.]
Heiderich:
I am Doctor Edward Heiderich, can you tell me yours?
“Why? So you run away in fright? Like he
did? Fuck you.”
Heiderich:
Could you please tell me your name?
“I don’t have a name, you stupid brat, I
haven’t have one for half a century.”
Heiderich:
Please tell me your name.
“You know it!”
[Snarls and the squeak of leather
restrains.]
Heiderich:
Please. I can’t help you if you don’t give me your name first.
“Help?”
[Loud snort.]
“You think you can help? Me? This
is all your fault, Fullmetal brat, this world, this shit… if he hadn’t
chosen you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Heiderich:
I’m afraid I’m not who you think I am, I’m Doctor Heiderich.
“Fuck off.”
[Silence.]
Heiderich:
Do you know where you are?
“In hell.”
Heiderich:
No. You’re at the Max Plank Institute of Psychiatry, in Munich.
“Same thing.”
Heiderich:
We just want to-
“Want, want… is that all that matter to
you? ‘Envy, I want you to kill him.’ ‘Envy, I want you to bring him here.’
‘Envy this.’ ‘Envy that.’ What about what I fucking want? Eh? All you
fucking humans are the same type of shit.”
Heiderich:
Envy? Is that your name?
“Of course that’s not my name, you dimwit
idiot, but She gave it to me.”
Heiderich:
Who is she? …Envy?
[Silence.]
Heiderich:
Did she hurt you?
[Laughter.]
“Nothing can hurt me, Fullmetal. Your
little pet was quite surprised when he realized it. Almost as if he didn’t
know… but of course he knew, he burnt me to ashes once, the fucking bastard.”
Heiderich: Muller? Muller hurt you?
“Mustang. Roy fucking Mustang. I killed
the other one too, that’s how I figured this was hell. Because if he was alive
and now you are alive… well, where else could I be?”
Heiderich:
Rötger Muller was a retired police officer, Envy, he couldn’t have hurt you.
“But of course I belong here; where else
would you put a Sin? Sins in hell. But you? What are you doing here? Didn’t the
Gate love you like a favorite child? Of course it didn’t. ‘Cause you’re a
fucking asshole.”
Heiderich:
Why are you a sin, Envy? What is this gate?
“Because He made me, and then I killed
him. I killed you too. But the fucking Gate had to spit me out here, where I
belong. Mustang screamed like a girl when he saw me, you know? Does it hurt,
Fullmetal brat? To know your little pet is dead? He wasn’t even that good of a
fuck.”
[Light scratching noises increasing in
volume.]
Heiderich:
Does your thigh hurt, Envy?
“Nothing hurts, you asshole, but it’s
missing. It shouldn’t be missing. It’s mine. I’m not a Sin if I don’t
have it!”
Heiderich:
What is missing Envy, could you tell me?
“You’re seeing it! It’s gone! My fucking
Oroborus is gone! So is my power… though I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Heiderich:
What was your power, Envy?
“Doesn’t matter, it’s gone now. I tried… I
hate this fucking hair. It’s too short and the wrong color. Never mind, what
are you going to do now, Fullmetal pipsqueak, now that you know I’m vulnerable?
Are you going to throw a gasket because I killed your pretty boy? Or are you
going to fuck me like you did last time?”
Heiderich:
I… I never knew Herr Muller. I’m sad to hear he’s dead, Envy, but I only wish
to help you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.
[Silence.]
“You’ve grown.”
Heiderich:
I beg your pardon?
“You’ve grown. Used to be as insignificant
as a worm, Shorty. How much is it? Two inches? Three? Don’t think I’m
impressed, I’m just surprised you managed to.”
Heiderich:
Well, thank you… you’re shorter than me, though. Perhaps if you ate better? The
nurses tell me you haven’t eaten.
“Of course I haven’t. What? Are you more
retarded than I thought? Fucking hell, don’t you know Homunculi eat red stones?
Your silly human food is nonsense.”
Heiderich:
Ah… I’m afraid there’s not much I can do for you there. If you continue to
refuse eating, they might have to install an IV on you.
[Silence.]
Heiderich:
Envy?
[Chuckles.]
Heiderich:
Are you alright?
“Fuck you!”
Heiderich:
Envy-
“I hate you! I hate you, goddamnit, it hurt.”
Heiderich:
Who hurt you, Envy?
“-said it wouldn’t hurt… that it wouldn’t
matter… no one would know, but of course they knew, She knew, and then… then…”
Heiderich:
Envy, who hurt you?
[Hysterical laughter and sobbing
alternately, harsh breathing.]
“…you did.”
~*~*~
From the personal notes of Doctor
Edward Heiderich,
Head of the Criminalistic Ward.
Monday, September 23rd, 1957.
Homunculi.
My god… just like Alphonse… ‘Envy’ made a racket and recognized me as someone else entirely,
treating me with the disdain that person must instill in him. However, even
in that fractured world, his mind is severely bruised. His aggression to
everyone around is intriguing and I fear an early childhood trauma might be
responsible for his behavior. I don’t have many hopes of rehabilitation for
him, but I must try. Abendroth seemed disturbingly interested in him ever since
he saw him for the first time.
He is stronger than his frame would imply,
but there were marks of abuse in him this morning that weren’t there on
Saturday. I have my suspicions, but I cannot act, since he might have done harm
to himself in the course of the weekend. I fear, however, that by
restraining him further I might cause him to become even more vulnerable.
He freely admitted to having raped his
victim during our interview. This adds a completely new complication to the
matter, as his perversion might cause the Tribunals to reconsider capital
sentence for him. His comment, however, that this ‘alternate’ me had abused him
makes me nauseous intrigues me.
The very idea that I-
I must not dwell on it more than
necessary. I have scheduled a visit to Alphonse today; hopefully it will clear
my mind.
~*~*~
He’s sedated, for which Edward’s heart
is saddened; the sight of the unmoving body in bed makes him want to cry. He
knows, however, that at least now he can pretend his brother is merely
sleeping, not lost in a maelstrom of sound and images and nightmares. At least
now, Alphonse won’t ask about his arm and be afraid of shadows and the silence.
He wonders though, if Envy’s predicament has something to do with Al’s, if by
some miracle he can uncover the mystery…
Then he tells himself to shut up and
keep work at bay. It’s so rare to get permission to be with his brother like
this, so he must make the most of this precious time, or he’ll regret it later.
He’s always regretting something or
another, anyway.
~*~*~
From the clinical report of Doctor
Edward Heiderich,
Head of the Criminalistic Ward.
Monday, October 14th, 1957.
Case Number: OP-0080925-227
Name: Unknown, ‘Envy’.
Age: 19-25.
Sex: Male.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Weight: 50 Kg.
Height: 5’5
Notes: The patient refuses to eat, thus his body has weakened. His aggression
towards the personal has become acute. Only allows the examinant into the room
without showings signs of clear anxiety, masked under taunting and insulting
yells. The patient psychological development is slow; the description of his
world seems to amuse him.
[Case number: OP-0080925-227
Examination recording number: 4
Physician/Psychiatrist: Heiderich, Edward.
Recording date: Monday, October 14th, 1957
Recording time: 11:35:15]
“You’re late.”
Heiderich:
Yes, I’m sorry.
“I was starting to think I’d gotten rid of
you. Shame.”
Heiderich:
I’m afraid some paperwork kept me, do forgive me. Perhaps we could continue
with your narration? It’s fascinating.
“You’re just retarded, but if I must. It’s
better than watching the fucking ceiling.”
Heiderich:
I’ll be very thankful, yes.
“So, anyway. We had lured you down to the
ruins. It’s funny how the ruins are still under the city, but no one remembers
anymore.”
Heiderich:
Why don’t they remember, Envy?
“Because it’s been so long. Humans have
shitty memories.”
Heiderich:
Ah.
“And there you were, so Dante was decided
to get you, since she couldn’t get Him, and used that mute bitch to trick you.
Then we started to fight, you asked to see my face… And then I killed you.”
[Silence.]
Heiderich:
Envy?
“You were dead. I saw! Your blood fell and
you felt so fucking right, hanging off my arm.”
Heiderich:
I-
[Sobbing.]
“Why couldn’t you stay dead? It’s peaceful
there. It’s always better, quiet and peaceful and it doesn’t hurt.”
Heiderich:
Are you hurting, Envy?”
“…I want to die. I want to curl up and die
and be back into the quiet. But the Gate doesn’t want me. It never wanted me…
first Him, then Her… but never me.”
[Sobs.]
“Homunculi can’t die.”
[Chair scraping against the floor, hurried
steps. The door open and closes violently.]
[Quiet sobbing continues.]
~*~*~
From the personal notes of Doctor
Edward Heiderich,
Head of the Criminalistic Ward.
Monday, October 14th, 1957.
I… can’t do this.
He… he… Envy is suffering, and whatever it
is, it is grinding him down. The marks on his arm, where he tears the IV every
time we set it back in place, are red and violently bright against his pale
skin. He truly seems to be a corpse withering away to nothing.
I’m a shame to the medical field.
And to top it off, I forgot the tape
recorder in his room. If he breaks it, Abendroth won’t let me live it down.
~*~*~
“Greed.”
The voice is soft, almost afraid to
break the lovely silence that is blanketing his cell. Why the stupid Pipsqueak
insists on calling it a room, he doesn’t know. He knows a cell, what a cell is
good for and what a prisoner becomes, eventually.
Vulnerable.
“Giving me pet names already?” The man
clad in black, with a white lab coat over his shoulders, smiles wickedly. His
teeth are human, but his smile is just as wide as he remembered, “My, my, you
learn fast, don’t you, pet?”
“I couldn’t remember,” Envy tells him
honestly, still curled in the hard bed that doesn’t squeak at all, missing his
hair to hide his face with, “I knew I knew you from before… but without the
teeth I couldn’t tell. You lost your power too, didn’t you? Serves you right.”
Greed narrows his eyes at him as the
door closes behind him, and Envy feels something inside die a little. He grins
weakly and tries not to wince when the first blow comes. That’s why he allows
it, because it hurts so much it kills him, and maybe, maybe in the long run, it
will be enough to end him.
End… he likes the sound of that.
“You’ve been bad, pet,” Greed is
saying, always calling him ‘pet’ and not by name. Maybe he’s forgotten it as
well, “You made poor Heiderich flee. He wants the best for you, you know? He’s
very worried.”
“He wants my ass,” Envy snorts back,
without a real bite behind it, then lays back with a sneer, “So do you, but
who’s keeping count?”
Greed is suddenly on him, pushing him
back against that stupidly small bed, tearing at that sordidly transparent gown
they make him wear. He snarls, and Envy wishes, for a silly moment, that the
teeth would be back. That way, the wounds wouldn’t hurt so much and his own
power would be back. But they aren’t back, and when he bites his shoulder, he
feels his weakened bones strain under the brutal force. One day, Greed is going
to break them, and then everyone will know and Edward…
Edward is a fucking bastard who’s
probably biding his time to come and do this himself.
Like before.
He chokes on a sob when he turns him
and his face is pressed against the pillow, but whether it’s relief or pain,
it’s unknown. Envy feels the room to be suddenly cold, freezingly so. Greed’s
hands on him, his harsh panting, it makes him shiver in disgust and fear, and
he hates it. He’s not supposed to fear anything.
And then it’s over. The pain washes
away, and he knows Greed is still inside him, that it should hurt, but it’s
over. He has never expected anything but this from Greed, so it doesn’t hurt.
Not anymore. He’s probably bleeding, since the bastard didn’t bother with
niceties, but it doesn’t hurt.
“Yes, yes,” The feel of Greed’s breath
on his shoulder is nauseating, but it doesn’t matter, “I’ve been doing this for
how long? You’re still as tight as the first time… fucking whore.”
That sends Envy laughing hysterically…
or maybe he’s crying, but he wants to laugh, damnit. Because he was the whore, always. Who climbed Her bed at night? Who
climbed his bed? And Lust’s? Who had fucked anything that moved? No, Envy’s not
the whore, Greed is. But Greed can believe anything he wants, so as long as it
doesn’t hurt and Envy can ignore the wet feeling inside that tells him he’s
dripping blood into the covers.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. Greed always
cleans after himself, but the Pipsqueak will know. Hopefully this will hurt
him. Seeing how the death of his beloved, fucking perfect Mustang didn’t. Envy
feels Greed come, groaning loudly, just like the old times. One of his hands is
on his hair, clenching and keeping his face in the pillow, but Envy doesn’t
care. Greed can’t kill him, never could. And the one that can seems content
with pretending everything’s alright.
Not for long, of course.
“What a pretty thing you are,” Envy
shivers in disgust and feels his stomach clench on emptiness itself as Greed
cleans him, “I think I know why you call yourself envy… after all, who wouldn’t
be envious of this?”
Two fingers sneak inside him, and he
realizes the game isn’t over. Greed wants to make him come. Maybe in a sick
level, to justify what he’s done – not that Envy cares in the slightless – but
it’s going to be complicated, when he’s numb and tired and limp. Somehow,
though, Greed gets him hard, and Envy swears to the Gate that he did not just
moan. And he isn’t remembering Lior, either. He isn’t thinking about a metal
hand wound around him, pumping and sliding and making him writhe. He isn’t
thinking about the feel of golden hair sliding sinfully between his fingers,
the mouth fixed on his ear. He’s not remembering, he’s not hard.
“Don’t you wish he was here?” Greed
smiles and does something wicked and evil and Envy arches off with a wail, “So
do I.”
He did not just come with Edward’s name
pending from his lips.
~*~*~
From the clinical report of Doctor
Edward Heiderich,
Head of the Criminalistic Ward.
Monday, October 21st, 1957.
Case Number: OP-0080925-227
Name: Unknown, ‘Envy’.
Age: 19-25.
Sex: Male.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Weight: 47 Kg.
Height: 5’5
Notes: The patient continues to lose weight at an alarming rate, and no eating
regime will help. Seems to have resorted to withdrawal himself, and has
appeared irresponsive to any form of treatment. The examinant believes the
mutism has some relation to the deformed visualizations of abuse and the slow
revealing of a previous trauma that had remained latent in the deepest parts of
his subconscious mind. His thought process is fascinating and orderly, yet it
appears chaotic and senseless at first impression. Examinant believes him to
have an ulterior motive to his comments; however, as his lucidity slips away,
it becomes uncertain.
[Case number: OP-0080925-227
Examination recording number: 5
Physician/Psychiatrist: Heiderich, Edward.
Recording date: Monday, October 21st, 1957
Recording time: 11:30:45]
Heiderich:
Hello Envy.
[Silence.]
Heiderich:
The nurses tell me you’ve been terribly quiet this week. Also, I wanted to
thank you for returning my tape recorder intact, I would have been in trouble
if you had broken it.
[Light snort.]
Heiderich:
Where’s the tape Envy? Do you know where it is?
“Maybe. I recorded something for you.”
Heiderich:
Oh?
“Just… just for you.”
[Light sliding sound.]
“Listen to it when you get home. Alone.
You’re gonna like it.”
[Quiet laughter.]
“You’re gonna fucking love it.”
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