DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist and all related characters, settings, and plots are the property of Hiromu Arakawa and the companies that have produced it. I do not claim to own any of those things, and I do not make any money from this writing.

Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist trudged along the dark Central road in the early hours of twilight, stars twinkling faintly above his head. Early and cold as it was, his hair was undone, and Ed wore only his red jacket over black pants and some scruffy old boots. Hands in pockets and head lowered, he wandered down the street aimlessly, feeling broken and empty. Almost no thoughts whirled in his head, very unusual for the bright young lad. Well, it used to be unusual. Now most of his days and nights were spent like this, eating but not tasting, seeing but not realizing.

He just couldn't understand why he did this to him. Why Mustang felt the need to have him so badly.

Ed bit back a sob as he remembered the pain and humiliation of having his body taken from him unwillingly over and over again by a person he detested. The feel of Mustang's skin against his own was a disgustingly vivid memory that made him want to retch. And the way he made him do such horrible things . . .

It was a fate Edward wouldn't wish on his most hated enemies, to be held and raped by someone. And Al . . .

Alphonse Elric had no idea what was happening to his older brother, but he could tell that something was wrong. Ed didn't dare tell him or anyone though, because Mustang could deny it completely and totally and everyone would believe him. His kind and not at all displeasing outward manner to others would fool them all, and it had for a good sum of weeks now.

He could only hope that Mustang would tire of him eventually, but until that time, he would have to endure the defiling of his body.

Ed was startled out of his reverie when another's footsteps became apparent to him. They fell on the stone ground lightly, but the older Elric could tell those footsteps were masking a heavier body. Though, ultimately, he could determine who they belonged to.

Roy Mustang.

The young man picked up his pace, not at all wanting to encounter this loathsome man twice in one night. The sky was lightening into an indigo blue, rather than the blackish-blue color from earlier, and the chill wind was picking up. As Ed fell into a steady swift stride, the sound of Roy Mustang's steps could be heard keeping up, and even gaining.

Cursing, Edward began running; running for everything he still wanted to accomplish in his young life, running for his very sanity. He knew he couldn't take much more of this. He had been through a lot in his short life, but this- this could easily break a person into a million unfixable pieces.

Ed dashed forward a little more, then dove into an alley where he kept up the same quick pace. He could hear and feel the own pounding of his feet on the pavement, as well as Roy's. His breathing was becoming a little ragged now though, and Edward knew he couldn't keep up for many more minutes. Maybe three more at the most.

He had to hide.

That, or get caught, which he wasn't looking forward to. He never would. Ahead of him, the dark and foul alleyway opened up into a park that he knew to be lush and green in the daylight. As he made the last stretch to freedom, he felt a stitch develop in his side that made inhaling painful.

"Have . . . to . . . hide . . ."

At the first sight of one, Ed leapt into a large bush and worked on regulating his breathing as he listened for footsteps. Nothing. He listened closely a few minutes more before he took a deep breath of the sweet, cool air, and left his cover.

As soon as he did though, he heard a cool, almost psychopathic-like chuckle come from somewhere very near him. He froze in his spot, knowing he wouldn't be able to get very far if he ran now. How could he let himself get caught so easily? Especially by this man, if he could even be considered a man anymore.

"You always were predictable, Ed." He cringed at the use of his name. "Ever since you were younger when you first joined the State, I had you pinned down, every move you would make. Oh..." Mustang came up behind him and held him in a tight grip, his body touching the length of Ed's, "so predictable."

This was so . . . despicable. Ed was feeling the familiar sensation of helplessness wash over him as the taller man stood here speaking. The feeling of Mustang's warm body against his was unwelcome, giving Ed the urge to be sick. His own small body was as rigid and cold as his automail, every inch of him on edge.

As Ed felt Mustang's lips on his neck, he stiffened even more, earning him a teasing reproach. "Come now, Edward, you can't hate my touch after all these times we've spent together." Those lips traveled down his muscled back as the older man inched off Ed's coat for the second time that night. Ed shivered in what Roy might've thought was desire, but was really disgust. There was no way possible that Ed would ever enjoy this.

"Get- off- me," he spat out, jaw and fists clenched tight with ill-hidden fury. It wasn't the first time he had protested Mustang's actions, but they had never been heeded before. Though, maybe this time they would. Maybe this time he would have a chance to be saved.

Mustang never replied to Ed, and instead he whisked off whatever part of Ed's jacket was left on him, and threw it to the ground. The younger shuddered at the cold air now hitting the rest of his skin directly, and his skin was breaking out in goose flesh. He couldn't go on this way, and that was that, Edward decided. He ripped out of Roy's grip, face twisted in anger and desperation.

"Stay the hell off of me, Mustang!" he screamed at the older man, who was wearing a simple white long sleeved tee, dark green lounge pants and black dress shoes. Roy's hair was still mussed up from earlier that night, and his skin was flushed with passionate lust. He smirked at Ed and rushed forward to grab the younger boys' wrists, and terror mixed with numbing cold kept him weak.

Roy Mustang pushed Edward's wrists close to his body, and pushed his face closer till there was only a fraction of an inch separating them. "What if I don't want to, Elric?" He kissed him roughly on the lips in between speaking. "What if I like this?" Another, harder kiss. "What if I like being in control and striking fear into boys like you?"

Tears pricked Edward's eyes now, and his hands would be shaking if Roy weren't gripping them so tightly. No matter how much he endeavored, he could not bring Mustang's power over him to end. When he saw those frigid onyx eyes they consumed him of all strength, bravery, and cunning, leaving him drained.

In Ed's silent moment, Roy had taken this opportunity to throw the teenager into an unlocked maintenance shed, and secure the door behind them. He kicked off his own shoes quickly and managed to take off Ed's boots as well. Edward was almost in an unfeeling daze, contemplating this seemingly meaningless existence and did not notice Mustang's ministrations. Only when Roy began to tear at his pants did he stir.

His immediate reaction was to slap at his assailant with his automail hand. The Colonel reeled back in pain and disbelieving, a purple and black bruise already forming on his cheekbone. Edward stared at him in shock, not believing what he did himself. He's not going to forget that any time soon . . .

The Colonel glowered down at Ed, fierce rage swirling round his eyes, along with a sort of madness Edward did not care to define. Mustang took his own calloused hand, devoid of gloves, and slammed a fist into the Elrics' face, once, twice, and then a third time. The teen's face was bleeding from his left cheek from the force of one of the blows, and the inside of his lower lip cut itself on his teeth. In addition, Ed could feel a bruise forming on his right brow.

Overcome by the strength of the battering that was dealt him, the tears he had been struggling to keep inside poured over his eyes onto pale cheeks and he lay there below Mustang, crumpled in a heap. As Roy busied himself with ridding the two of them of their clothing, he whispered harshly to the boy. "You forced me to that Ed, and you know you deserved it. You shouldn't strike your superiors, you know." Roy's hand slipped around the currently naked boy's neck and tugged him closer to his own face and alleged, "And now you deserve punishment."

Summoning up some well-needed courage, Ed bit back his tears that threatened to keep flowing and attempted to shove himself away from Mustang. "I don't know where you get all this bullshit from, Mustang, and you are not my superior!" Roy hit the boy, and Ed fell to the rough wood floor again. But he plunged on even though he saw the Colonel's face darken with anger once more, and his voice cracked pitifully with resentment and wretchedness as he yelled at Roy.

"I could be so fucking happy if it weren't for you! Al has his body back, the homunculi are dead, and everything was great for me until you, you son of a bitch!" Ed stood up as thunder cracked deeply throughout the town, reverberating in his chest, rain pouring down the window of the shed. A branch of a tree that was ill positioned near the window broke the glass, and fragments hit Ed's back, cutting it up in many places. Tears began to cascade down his poor rage-twisted face, conveying the feelings his words could not. "You take everything I have, everything! Everyone might as well be dead around me, I might as well be dead!"

Obviously not willing to let Edward let himself express anything else, Mustang grabbed the boy, taking a painful hold of his automail arm. He twisted it round Ed's back, making him gasp in pain.

"You don't mean that, Ed." He caressed Ed's naked lower back and pressed his own erection against the boy, satisfied when he shuddered. "You love me, what I do to your body..." Roy took the caressing hand and licked the tips of two fingers, thoroughly wetting them before placing one in Ed's asshole.

The boy groaned and squirmed, trying to break free. "Let go of me, bastard!" However, Roy's only response was to pull on Ed's arm, shifting the nerve endings painfully. The teenager screamed, squeezing his eyes shut in the excruciating pain. The Colonel went on with his business, unperturbed, nipping Ed's neck while inserting more fingers. "I'm going to make you regret those words of yours, Edward," he uttered lowly, menace lacing his words. "I'm going to hurt you very much."

Ed's eyes widened against the pain, knowing what Mustang did to him plenty of times in the past hurt enough: what was he planning now? He was answered when only after fingering his hole with two fingers, Roy plunged himself into the boy, receiving a hoarse scream. His eyes stung again, and he let them flow freely, yelping every time Roy moved in and out of him. The sensitive skin of his pink hole was chafing, even ripping in some places at the friction caused by Roy's pumping.

Panting, Roy told him, "Scream, Ed. Scream my name and maybe I'll stop." This power Roy held over Edward... it filled him, invigorated Mustang to the very core. In short, he loved it. Tightening his grip on Ed's flesh arm, digging his nails into the soft skin, he thrust faster, harder, fiercer into Ed's ass.

Indeed, Edward did scream, though not what Roy wanted.

"You're a fucking monster! Stop!" He sobbed, his whole body racked with the pain, knees buckling. Roy sneered and kept going until he came and pulled out, his dick now bloody from the wounds he inflicted. Mustang seized Ed's automail arm as he let go of his flesh arm and yanked heavily, discharging the metal attachment.

With a last throaty shriek, the boy fell to the ground, naked, used, and battered into submission. Roy appeared to examine the metal arm he now held before tossing it at Edward.

"You might want to clean that. I think it's got a little blood on it." Laughing cruelly, he dressed and left, leaving Ed.

Later that day, the boy would be found by a gardener of the park who had come to see the damage done by the thunderstorm during the night.

He was dead.