Wayfarer

Chapter 1

Getting home and to my bed is, as always, an unsavory task. Since Ishval, I try as often as Hawkeye gives me the option to to stay awake so that I don't have to suffer through the dreams. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant decided today that she had to order me to sleep. I don't know how she manages to order her superior officers around, but she does it. I sit on the bed with only my slacks, shirt, and socks, and start to read through more of the mission reports from today, which I unfortunately can't ignore. Besides, as much as I hate paperwork, I hate the nightmares that sleep brings more. Oh well, at least I can honestly tell the Lieutenant that I was in my bed tonight.

I start to shift through the papers. The writing is damn near illegible. Damn it, Fullmetal, why do you insist in rushing your reports? I've seen your journal, I know that you can write better than this you little shit.

After quite some time, and a lot of struggle, I finally finish reading Fullmetal's report. I begin to go through some other paperwork. It's all the same thing to be honest; 'sign this' and 'what do you think of this', and a few reports I have to sign at the end of them to approve of them. Occasionally there are other types of paperwork I would have to do.

There are lots of different types of paperwork. The normal ones that bore the hell out of me, mostly filled with things about previous cases that I don't really care about. Like that shop that was robbed, or the low key threatening that was investigated. The reports like the time that a man poked a bear at the zoo which caused the bear to eat him, and then the family sued the bear. The type of stuff that makes me wish that we had a separate police force instead of shoving the mundane stuff onto the military. 

And then there are ones that I don't really need to read through, but only really have to sign the bottom because I'll get into trouble if I don't agree with it. I hate these ones just on principle. The fact that you could get demoted for not approving a dam makes it pretty damn obvious that something is wrong with this country.

Then there are the reports that slightly more rare, but slightly more interesting to read, and also a lot more gruesome. I mean the ones that talk about the murder cases and show pictures of the people that died and their corpses. Crime scene photos scattered through the file, images of splattered brains and pools of blood and mutilations. Children who went missing only to be found floating face down in the river a week later. Descriptions of the people whose lives were cut short by psychopaths and in fits of rage, but written like they were characters in a play instead of living beings. Ones like that from a couple days ago, where a butcher went mad and decided to chop his victims to pieces, cackling.

Or the reports that talk about Ishval. The ones where I can't help but feel like one of the cold-blooded killers in the murder files. Reports of the charcoal and blood stained rubble that sits where grand cities were. Concerned soldiers reporting whispers of a new rebellion, documents which I swiftly burn before anyone can notice.

And then there are the rare ones. The funny ones. Like the ones that want me to approve of a pole dancing strip club a few officers want to open for the public, or the mission reports that talk about their date so much that it's obvious that they didn't go on their mission at all. Or the ones that ask me to approve of a one day maid cafe where they get Armstrong to get into a maid outfit and perform a cute little song for the crowd. (Can't say that I didn't approve of that one for fun.) Or the "formal" complaints that officers will put in about their coworkers that are stupid as ever, like; 'He stole my favourite christmas cookie,' or 'He cheated in that bet we did,' or 'I didn't give him a Christmas present, so he became Darth Vader with an axe while Santa Clause was floating by in outer space,' (I actually got that once.), or 'He hotwired the car during a stake out mission.' And then there are the stories that sneak their way in there about how 'It snowed last year too. So I made a snowman, and then Havoc knocked it down, so I knocked Havoc down, and then we had tea.'