FMA Fic: "Cut Through Flesh and Bone (the Sawbones remix)" 1/1
Title: Cut Through Flesh And Bone (The Sawbones Remix)
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters/Pairings: Yao Ling, Lan Fan
Author: evil_little_dog
Words: 646
Rating: Teenish
Summary: “No, Lan Fan!”
Warnings: Blood, self-mutilation.
Disclaimer: Arakawa owns all, I just futz around.
Inspired by: apgeeksout’s story, If We’re Still Alive, My Regrets Are Few and my hc_bingo square, “Sacrifice”.
X X X
The stench of blood was so thick, Ling could taste it. The bitter flavor of copper and salt coated his mouth, flooding his nostrils, so he wasn’t sure he’d ever be rid of it. “Lan Fan!” he shouted. “Hold on!” He had to get her safe, somewhere safe, but with the two monsters trailing him - them - he wasn’t sure where he could go. The round monster seemed to track better than a dog, and the one they called the Fuhrer followed inexorably in the round one’s wake. Ling knew he needed a bolt hole soon, but how to throw them off their trail?
Lan Fan grunted, a peculiar sound. “Master?”
“Hold on,” he repeated, tightening his grip on her thighs.
“Master, you must let me go. I am slowing you down.”
“I’m not leaving you!” Foolish girl, to think that.
“Then I must sacrifice myself.”
He heard that grunt again, recognizing the sound of pain. “Lan Fan, what are you doing?” She whined, deeply, gutturally, and Ling felt her weight shift on his shoulder. He twisted his neck, nearly stumbling at the sight of her kunai stabbing into her shoulder. “No, Lan Fan!”
The stink of blood grew stronger as he set her down, gritting his teeth, unable to stop her from sawing through the sinews and gristle and muscles of her arm. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it down - if she could be so strong, he must be able to match her. He wrapped a cord around her shoulder, trying to stop the pouring blood.
Lan Fan jerked, turning her pale face up toward his. “D-dog,” she panted.
“What?”
“Catch the d-dog.” Lan Fan stared at the arm dripping blood onto the rough road of the alleyway. “Tie it to the dog.”
A blood trail would lead to the dog, not to them, if he could tie off the wound and keep Lan Fan from bleeding to death. He hesitated only long enough to bow his head to her wisdom, then squatted down to coax the dog to him. The mutt was thin and stank, and bowed its head. “Here boy,” Ling said, flipping his fingers at it.
“Girl,” Lan Fan said.
He wondered how she’d noticed. “Here girl,” he corrected and the dog minced to him, sniffing at the blood on his hands. Ling had to swallow again to keep himself from vomiting as he tied the limb onto the dog’s back. It whined, hunching up, but didn’t try to free itself or gnaw on - Ling had to turn away, force the thoughts from his head. You are the son of the Emperor. You can do this.
“You must bind my wound,” Lan Fan said. “If I am able to move and hide, I cannot keep bleeding.”
“Of course.” He shrugged out of his jacket, using it to tie off the wound. Trying not to think on how brave she was and what she’d sacrificed to protect him. Once the wound was bandaged as best it could be at the moment, he leaned his forehead against hers, ignoring the soft intake of breath. Ling squeezed Lan Fan’s good shoulder, hoping his touch told her everything he could not speak.
“My lord,” she said, her voice shaky, “there’s a grate down the alley. Help me to it.”
The moment lost, Ling obeyed her as if she ruled him rather than the other way around. With seven limbs between them, they hobbled to the grate and Ling pried it open, wrinkling his nose at the damp, moldy stink rising from it. He couldn’t leave Lan Fan here long, but the rushing water would wash away any trace of blood. She’d be safe, and he could find the Elric brothers and help them trap a monster.
And later, Ling promised himself, he’d trap another one for what the Fuhrer had done to Lan Fan.
X X X
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters/Pairings: Yao Ling, Lan Fan
Author: evil_little_dog
Words: 646
Rating: Teenish
Summary: “No, Lan Fan!”
Warnings: Blood, self-mutilation.
Disclaimer: Arakawa owns all, I just futz around.
Inspired by: apgeeksout’s story, If We’re Still Alive, My Regrets Are Few and my hc_bingo square, “Sacrifice”.
X X X
The stench of blood was so thick, Ling could taste it. The bitter flavor of copper and salt coated his mouth, flooding his nostrils, so he wasn’t sure he’d ever be rid of it. “Lan Fan!” he shouted. “Hold on!” He had to get her safe, somewhere safe, but with the two monsters trailing him - them - he wasn’t sure where he could go. The round monster seemed to track better than a dog, and the one they called the Fuhrer followed inexorably in the round one’s wake. Ling knew he needed a bolt hole soon, but how to throw them off their trail?
Lan Fan grunted, a peculiar sound. “Master?”
“Hold on,” he repeated, tightening his grip on her thighs.
“Master, you must let me go. I am slowing you down.”
“I’m not leaving you!” Foolish girl, to think that.
“Then I must sacrifice myself.”
He heard that grunt again, recognizing the sound of pain. “Lan Fan, what are you doing?” She whined, deeply, gutturally, and Ling felt her weight shift on his shoulder. He twisted his neck, nearly stumbling at the sight of her kunai stabbing into her shoulder. “No, Lan Fan!”
The stink of blood grew stronger as he set her down, gritting his teeth, unable to stop her from sawing through the sinews and gristle and muscles of her arm. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it down - if she could be so strong, he must be able to match her. He wrapped a cord around her shoulder, trying to stop the pouring blood.
Lan Fan jerked, turning her pale face up toward his. “D-dog,” she panted.
“What?”
“Catch the d-dog.” Lan Fan stared at the arm dripping blood onto the rough road of the alleyway. “Tie it to the dog.”
A blood trail would lead to the dog, not to them, if he could tie off the wound and keep Lan Fan from bleeding to death. He hesitated only long enough to bow his head to her wisdom, then squatted down to coax the dog to him. The mutt was thin and stank, and bowed its head. “Here boy,” Ling said, flipping his fingers at it.
“Girl,” Lan Fan said.
He wondered how she’d noticed. “Here girl,” he corrected and the dog minced to him, sniffing at the blood on his hands. Ling had to swallow again to keep himself from vomiting as he tied the limb onto the dog’s back. It whined, hunching up, but didn’t try to free itself or gnaw on - Ling had to turn away, force the thoughts from his head. You are the son of the Emperor. You can do this.
“You must bind my wound,” Lan Fan said. “If I am able to move and hide, I cannot keep bleeding.”
“Of course.” He shrugged out of his jacket, using it to tie off the wound. Trying not to think on how brave she was and what she’d sacrificed to protect him. Once the wound was bandaged as best it could be at the moment, he leaned his forehead against hers, ignoring the soft intake of breath. Ling squeezed Lan Fan’s good shoulder, hoping his touch told her everything he could not speak.
“My lord,” she said, her voice shaky, “there’s a grate down the alley. Help me to it.”
The moment lost, Ling obeyed her as if she ruled him rather than the other way around. With seven limbs between them, they hobbled to the grate and Ling pried it open, wrinkling his nose at the damp, moldy stink rising from it. He couldn’t leave Lan Fan here long, but the rushing water would wash away any trace of blood. She’d be safe, and he could find the Elric brothers and help them trap a monster.
And later, Ling promised himself, he’d trap another one for what the Fuhrer had done to Lan Fan.
X X X