Chapter Text
The first time Roy broke Master Berthold's law against what was forbidden and set fire without his express permission, his master found out, because his master always did.
The first time was the only time, because his master then beat him for an hour.
"You think fire is a game, Mustang?! You think you've earned the right to play with fire?!"
Steel-toed boot smashed against fragile ribs. The walking stick, shattered against his shoulder, splinters dug into his flesh and the remains thrown against his face.
"No one has the right to play with fire. Fire is not your toy, Mustang! You play with fire, and you will get burnt!"
His foot crushed against his wrist until it broke.
"You will respect fire! You will respect its power, and you will respect that it does not exist to serve you!"
Crawling on his hands and knees... coughing to taste blood...
"Get the fuck back on the ground! Did I say you could get up?!"
Blow against his spine, and a mouthful of mud to his face.
"You want to watch something burn so bad, Mustang?! Watch!"
Snap.
Woosh- crackle crack- woosh- crackle crack...
"AAAAAGHHH!"
Fire burned, and flesh smoked.
"You want to control fire?! You think this is something you can take lightly?! Then put it out, Mustang! Put out the fire!"
"Ahhhh- ahhhhhhh- AHHHHHH-!"
"Put it out, Mustang!"
But he couldn't, he realized at last, rolling in the mud and screaming until his throat was raw.
He couldn't, because he'd never been taught how to put out a fire.
"Put it out!"
His master's hand grabbed at his shirt again and yanked him up off the ground, eyes boring into his own. Hot gold flickered, reflected in an unforgiving stare, and Roy bucked and gasped, the heat of agony choking him until he could not even think.
Fire roared.
"You can't put it out, Mustang," his master hissed, and when his head started to fall a hand grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look. "We are Flame Alchemists. We can create fire, but once we've made it, we can not control it, and we can not put it out. So I'm telling you right now to realize that every time you create a flame, you be prepared for it to turn around and bite you, or turn on another and bite them."
Fire hissed and crackled, licking over flesh and eagerly devouring sanity.
His master never put it out. He was left to scramble and try to control the blaze himself, screeching in agony until the rain came, and he passed out in the mud.
We can not put it out.
The lesson was learned.