Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist.

Author's Notes: This collection of short stories are going to focus on the Ishbal massacre and the all the people involved, both military and the Ishaballans. This is not going to be a light, happy collection. It's going to deal with themes that can be quite disturbing and I ask that the "T" (PG-13) rating be taken seriously. My first story for this series focuses on Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. Read and Review if you want but flames will be ignored. Thanks!

Toy Soldiers

Section 23. That was what this place had been labeled on the map that Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc and the other people in his unit had been shown that morning during their permission debriefing.

It had looked so simple then, just a line on a piece of paper, surrounded by other lines and other numbers. It represented the Ishballian city without the hassles of having to show the faces of the people who lived in it.

However things weren't so simple on the battlefield when there were no lines or numbers but there were plenty of people.

Havoc gripped his assault rifle tight enough to turn his knuckles white as he kicked in the remains of a door. The State Alchemists had already gone through here and they had been through. All Havoc and the rest of the soldiers had to do was the clean up work, killing anyone who was unlucky enough to be left alive by the alchemists.

The other people in his unit were spread out in the region, searching and occasionally Havoc could hear a single gunshot ring out over the deathly silence of the ruins. He was praying that he wouldn't find anyone; he didn't think he could look an injured, frightened person in the eye and shoot them in cold blood.

His eyes stung from the mix of sand and dust that the collapsing door had raised but he couldn't take the risk of rubbing his eyes. He didn't know what could be in here and he didn't want to die because he had been rubbing his eyes instead of paying attention.

He lifted his rifle to his shoulder and stepped into the room, searching every corner and possible hiding spot with his eyes, looking for any sign of an ambush. Seeing nothing he took another step into the room.

This place had been a house once, he could see shards of dishes on the floor and the remains of a meal were scattered around the room. With sickening realization he knew that these people had been attacked when they were least expecting it. The people in this house had been sitting down to their evening meal when the alchemists had come through. They'd had no warning, no chance to fight back.

Moving cautiously into the room he moved towards what had once been a wall but it had collapsed into the main room. Beyond the gap he could see a bedroom with the bed covered in rubble. He took another step towards the gap and his foot kicked something.

Reacting, he pointed at it with his gun, his finger tensing on the trigger. After a moment he identified the object and lowered his weapon. It was a doll, like the ones that very little girls played with.

Dropping to one knee he picked the toy up, cradling it in his free hand. He knew better then to lower his guard like this but he couldn't help it. With his thumb he wiped some of the grime off of the face and sighed quietly, wondering what the child who had owned this toy was like, knowing that the child would never have the chance to grow up now, thanks to the wisdom of the Armastis government.

Placing the doll on the floor again he stood up to continue the search. He continued to move towards the bedroom, noticing for the first time that part of the outside wall had collapsed. He glanced at the hole and decided that only a very agile person would be able to scramble over the rubble to reach the space so it was not worth bringing to his superiors attention.

The rest of the house was too demolished to be safely moved through and Havoc turned to leave when a small sound reached his ears. Turning towards the sound he pulled his rifle back up to his shoulder and froze.

His scope wasn't focused on an enemy; it was focused on a little girl. Havoc gulped, his orders had been to kill any survivors' period. There were no exceptions. He knew his orders but now he wasn't sure that he could follow them.

The little girl pushed herself further into the corner, whimpering in fright as her red eyes fixed on Havoc's uniform and the rifle he was holding.

Havoc forced himself to apply pressure to the trigger; he wouldn't be able to miss at this range. His fingers shook and he eased up slightly, looking at the girl. She was young, barely five. Her family was probably lying under the ruins and it had been some odd miracle that she had survived at all. Havoc started to aim again but stopped as he noticed the dried blood on her head.

The little girl's eyes moved from Havoc to the gap in the wall and back to the man who stood between her and freedom.

Havoc tried to fire again but he stopped. 'Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to shoot a five year old in cold blood?' he questioned himself.

'What has she ever done that I need to murder her? She hasn't killed anyone, she isn't leading a rebellion; she's just a five year old child! Is it because her skin is dark or her eyes are the wrong color? Why does she have to die?' Havoc mentally screamed, not noticing that his rifle had started to shake slightly.

He tried to fire for the third time and again he stopped, this time lowering the gun. He couldn't do it. He couldn't shoot this child. He didn't care what his orders where, this child did not deserve to die.

Havoc stepped to the side, leaving the way to the gap open, "Run." He ordered.

The little girl watched as the man moved away, unsure of what he was doing. He had moved out of her way but she didn't know if he was waiting for her to run. What if he was?

Havoc knew that the child probably didn't understand what he was saying and he didn't have much more time to spend here before people came looking for him. "Run now." He ordered again, gesturing at the hole with his gun.

The child needed no more bidding and jumped to her feet. She bolted for the hole and scrambled over the rubble before disappearing through the open hole.

Havoc watched her and he knew that he could still shoot her. All he needed to do was raise his gun and aim. Assault rifles had incredible range and he'd even have a way to justify the murder. She was running. Havoc didn't make a move to raise his gun though. He wouldn't kill that child. It was wrong.

If any of his superiors found out that he had let that child go, he'd be demoted at least but he didn't care. He had saved a life and that was worth far more then any pin on his collar.

Havoc turned away from the hole and moved out of the ruins. He didn't know if he had saved that child's life or just prolonged the inevitable. Most likely she would die in the desert or she would run into other soldiers who wouldn't help her but there was a chance that she'd survive and find who could help her.

Havoc stepped outside and squinted at the fading sun. He would never forget the look in the child's eyes when she realized that he was letting her go. That unbelieving, hopeful, desperate look. It was the expression of a person who had just realized that they were going to live.

How many of his comrades would never get to see that look? How many of them were killing without thinking? Havoc wiped his arm across his forehead and sighed.

"Havoc, quit dawdling. We're almost done!" Havoc looked towards his comrade who had shouted at him and nodded before pulling his rifle back up to his shoulder.

They were almost done for tonight and with first light they'd be shipped off to another batch of ruins to start over again. For tonight though, he would hang onto the memory of the little girl and pray that it would be enough to keep him from going insane.