Only one nameless person can understand teh situation of another. [ScarLust]
A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction by Sir Psycho Sexy
A/N: A Scar/Lust fic. I have a feeling that they're going to become my FMA OTP, seeing as I LIVE for messed-up pairings. Dedicated to Rachel the Demon, who pointed me in this direction even BEFORE I watched the crucial "Lust-helps-Scar-create-the-Philosopher's-Stone-from-Al's-armor" episode.
All the pain of finding out about his brother's involvement in an art forbidden by Ishballah, all of the envy of his brother's status as one in a committed relationship, came back whenever he saw the homunculus known as Lust. He had wanted his brother's lover, but was too respectful towards them to say anything about it, and he surely would have caught fire from the Ishbalan elders for even thinking of having the girl engage in adultery.
...And yet you're not her.
Scar saw through Lust; she (or, preferably, in Scar's mind, 'it') was merely a facsimile of the woman that he had secretly loved; an abomination of nature, a by-product of a selfish man's desire to resurrect the dead. But every time Lust appeared, it was like a siren song to him, a taste of the forbidden; and, oddly, she was very helpful in orchestrating the manufacture of the Philosopher's Stone, for which he was exceedingly grateful.
On the outside, Scar's position seemed certain: that Lust was nothing more than a soulless doll, animated by a few clever scientific tricks. However, his insides were conflicted, especially after Lust had told him that she wanted to be the woman his brother loved, to regain her memories of her lifetime as a human being, an Ishbalan woman. What was he supposed to say to that? That she was standing there, like so much bait, lying in wait for him to attack her and betray his god? That she was an abomination unto the very fabric of the universe that Ishballah had so lovingly created?
Scar looked at her, and bit his tongue before spurting out, "You can't be her. You will never be her." He wanted to believe that statement so very badly, but he just couldn't do it wholeheartedly.
A long, awkward silence fell over the two of them.
She turned to him and said softly, "What's your name?"
He looked inside himself, and saw that he had not been as human as he thought he was, that he and the homunculus were both degenerate monsters, and that was why he had been cut off from his people- he himself, in taking his brother's arm before he died, was accepting that he was betraying his people by aiding his brother. In short, he was a hypocrite. He did not deserve the grace of Ishballah.
He rolled his head up. "Ishballah had named me, but I bear that name no longer."
Lust nodded, as if she understood what he was saying. After all, those without true names, the names by which their people can call them back, understand the burden of not having them.