Fullmetal Alchemist - Archer/Kimbly - #3 The Dark Night of the Soul
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Archer/Kimbly
Author: For-chan
Artist: Daeva
Notes: Written for 20 Inkspots, Dark Theme number three "The dark night of the soul." I'm adding a new twist to an old fandom cliche.
Warnings: References to Rape
Summary: Archer receives a late night visitor.
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The Dark Night of the Soul
Frank Archer woke instantly as the flap of his tent shifted to quietly admit a body. He picked up the gun he kept on the flimsy night table and aimed it at the shadowed figure. They noticed the movement and froze. "Who are you?" Archer demanded.
There was silence for a moment. Then he heard his name.
"Frank."
It was spoken in such a way that his heart leapt into his throat almost choking his next words. "Kimblee? What are you doing here?"
Kimblee moved forward and collapsed to his knees before Archer's cot. Surprised, Archer put the gun down and sat up, turning to rest his legs on the floor. He reached out, touching Kimblee's face, looking for some sign of illness. Kimblee was flushed and warm, but that was not unusual in the desert. "What's wrong?"
Kimblee was silent as he leaned forward and rested his head on Archer's knees.
With Kimblee so close to him, Archer could smell the man's scent. There, in the infernal desert where water was a precious gift, bathing was not high on the list of priorities when it came to rationing out the precious resource so every soldier smelled heavily of sweat. Kimblee tended to carry the scent of sulfur about him, but tonight he smelled of smoke. Archer narrowed his eyes. "What happened?" He asked.
"Mustang's lost it," he said, his hand stroking down Archer's calf.
Archer knew that Kimblee and Mustang were assigned to share quarters together. Kimblee often bragged of how he taunted the man. It had become Kimblee's favorite hobby during his downtime. That and visiting him for a little sexual gratification. Though he was tired of asking questions, Archer prompted Kimblee on. "How so?"
Kimblee looked up at him. His typically sharp golden eyes seemed particularly unguarded. "I don't want to stay there anymore Frank," Kimblee whispered.
Archer's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
"Mustang killed those doctors today. He's not his usual pansy ass self. He snapped."
Archer shook his head, taking Kimblee's chin in his hand. "I'm not asking about him. I don't care about him. I'm asking about you. What happened to you?" He demanded.
Kimblee tried to look down, but Archer held his face tightly.
"What happened?" He asked again.
Kimblee gave a strange chuckle. "I didn't know he had it in him."
Archer almost growled at the man. Was a straight answer so much to ask? "What?"
Kimblee licked his lips. He opened them to speak and then closed them again, shaking his head as much as the hand holding his chin would allow.
Archer yanked his chin up. "Don't give me that. Tell me what happened, or would you have me go ask Mustang?"
"Don't!" Kimblee yelped.
In Archer's ears, it was a sound similar to a frightened dog. Kimblee didn't show fear though. To hear it fall from his lips, to see his face looking so panicked, he knew that something was wrong. "Then tell me dammit! What the hell happened?"
"He raped me! That fucker raped me!" Kimblee hissed back, his golden eyes lit with a strange combination of anger and madness and something else.
Archer tried to identify the alien emotion. Fear? Humiliation? He couldn't be sure. It was gone in a flash as the anger was replaced once more by a muted, haunted look. Archer was silent as the words sank in. Mustang had forced himself on Kimblee. "How the hell did that happen?" He asked before he could think up a more tactful question.
"It doesn't matter how it happened, it just matters that it happened and I'm never stepping into that fucking tent again," Kimblee snapped.
"We need to report this," Archer said.
"No!" Kimblee said. "We will not report this! Nobody needs to fucking know!"
"But he needs to be-"
Kimblee cut him off. "No! I said no and I mean it. If I find out you did otherwise, I will blow your fucking head off." He hissed.
Archer frowned, staring down at Kimblee. "Did you kill him?"
Kimblee looked down again, though Archer could still see the anger and the tension in the set of his body. "No."
Archer had a hard time believing that Kimblee had just left him alive. "Why not?"
"I don't want to go to fucking jail that's why! It's one thing if I accidentally blow up a few grunts, but I can't take out Mustang."
It sounded reasonable, but Archer knew that Kimblee was not always the most reasonable of men. "So you are letting him live and you will not report it."
Kimblee nodded.
"What are you going to do then?"
Kimblee sighed. "I am going to stay right here."
"In my tent?"
"No." Kimblee stood up, looking down at Archer.
Archer stared back, confused. Perhaps Kimblee had lost it as well.
Kimblee pushed on Archer's shoulder, forcing him back down on the cot. In a split second, Archer had his gun in hand aimed at Kimblee's chest.
Unfazed, the alchemist climbed onto the narrow cot and stretched out beside Archer, resting his head on one tense shoulder. "Here. I'm going to stay here."
Archer looked at Kimblee. The man was not ok. This was so out of character, he did not know how to handle the situation. With a frustrated sigh, he set his gun down on the flimsy bedside table and settled down on the cot that was hardly big enough to hold them both. Kimblee was laid out on top of him more than beside him. He shifted the arm beneath Kimblee's head so he could touch the man's hair. It was dry as the rest of this god forsaken desert, but that didn't stop him from petting it.
"Stop," Kimblee said hoarsely, sounding as though something had caught in his throat.
Archer didn't answer and he didn't stop.
Kimblee took a deep stuttering breath and turned his face into the crook of Archer's arm.
Archer said nothing as he felt the warm slide of tears down his arm. He just continued to stroke Kimblee's ratty hair and plan Mustang's demise.
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Author's note: ^_^ Well, as I said, here's a twist on a standard fandom cliche. It's not that I decided "Hey, let's bastardize Roy." After all, Roy is a pretty powerful man and obviously not completely stable during wartime. What is he capable of? Well, he's obviously capable of murder when following orders. Kimblee is not the only one capable of great atrocities. Take that thought with you.