Disclaimer: I don't own FMA, unfortuantely. I NEED PEOPLE TO GET INTO THE ROSSBLOCH FANDOM...they're just SCREAMING OTP AT YOU! DX
Brosh was sulking again. Ever since Ross had died, it was almost all he ever did. He continued on as ever, but his spark was gone, his sense of humor haveing died with the Lieutenant. He could hardly stand it. He had lived for her, breathed for her, and she was gone now. She wasnt going to come back. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could've done.
He knew in his heart that she hadn't deserved to die. Maria Ross was the monst tender and kindhearted individual he had ever known. There was no way in hell she could have killed Hughes, ever! Besides, she was with her parents when Hughes died. He knew that for a fact. He was with her.
He remembered her. He remembered her skin, her hair, her eyes, her soft warmth in the chill of the night. He remembered the first time they had made love, rushed, heated, passionate. It had become their routine every Sunday, in the dead of night. Maria had insisted that they keep the lights off. He had protested at first, but they eventually memorized each others bodies completely through their sense of touch.
But it was useless to remember. It wouldn't bring her back from the dead.
The pain was unbearable. He couldn't live without her, he needed her.
"Maria..." Brosh whispered, raising yet another glass of bourbon to his lips. He was at the bar that he had been spending so much of his time at after work hours. It made the pain stop, at least for a little while.
"Sergeant Brosh?" Breda asked. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you drank."
Brosh raised his hand to his forhead in a crooked, drunken salute. "Sir..." he acknowleded. Breda frowned.
"It's about the Lieutenant, isn't it." He said sternly.
"Yeah..." Denny muttered. Breda looked thoughtful for a moment, then pulled on Brosh's arm, causeing the glass of alchohol to drop to the ground.
"Come with me." He said, ignoreing the angry yells of the bar owner. He shoved Brosh off the bar stool and started half-dragging him to Central HQ. He plopped him down into a chair outside Armstrongs office and went in. They conversed for a while, and came out a few minutes later. Armstrong pounded Brosh over the head with his fist, knocking him out.
"You realize that Ross is going to kill us for this, don't you?" Armstrong asked.
"Yeah...so?" Breda said.
"Good point. Let's go, Lieutenant."
"You got it, Major." He saluted with a cocky grin. Armstrong slung Brosh over his shoulder and ran out the door to Breda's car. He haphazardly flung Brosh into the backseat and got in the passengers side. His head wouldn't fit in the car, so he was forced to hang it out the window. Breda got in the drivers seat, happy that he wouldn't be able to hear Armstrongs constant rambleings about his family. They pissed him and everyone else off to no end.
A/N: Yes, random stopping point. NEXT CHAPTER: Brosh wakes up to... wha? Guess what! I'm not telling! HA!