A Wandering Mind

Disclaimer: My name is Anemone. Nyquil produces plot bunnies, and I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Dedicated to Sly-sama and the bond that we have.

If someone had told him that a single hairband would one day cause his thoughts to spiral back to the old days, the days of the war, Roy Mustang would've laughed in their faces. If someone had told him that that hairband would make him remember and question past relationships, he would've brushed them off. But, now, here he was, turning the hairband in his fingers and caught in his memories.

He should've been tending to the giant stack of paperwork on his desk, and he had set out with the intention of doing just that. He had been rummaging around in a desk drawer for a pen when it had caught his eye; that innocent piece of red elastic. It had been the same crimson color as the blood he had spilled so long ago, and that had caused his mind to reel.

The winds swept sand over the rocky terrain and the breeze carried the sounds of gun shots and screams to the encampment of the Amestrian soldiers. The smell of blood and decay wafted through the area. Bodies clad in the blue uniforms of Amestris marched past him and into the battlefield.

Coal eyes moved to the ground, raven locks falling over them, as he made an attempt at counting the grains of sand. He was looking for anything that might distract him from reality.

"Roy!"

The voice that reached Roy's ears seemed too happy, too full of pep for the current situation. His head snapped up and scanned his surroundings grudgingly. He knew that voice sounded familiar, but his mind was preoccupied with the sounds of war. He couldn't place it.

"Roy Mustang!"

Dark eyes widened in recognition as they landed on that familiar form. Everything clicked into place. There, in the sea of moving bodies, stood Maes Hughes. The man was waving like a happy idiot as he began to run toward him.

"I thought that was you," Maes panted as he skidded to a stop in front of Roy.

"Hey," Roy said, blinking in disbelief.

"I promise I'm not an illusion," Maes's words were wrapped in a chuckle. "Come on, I know someplace quiet. We can catch up."

With a brisk nod, Roy followed the other male. Maes led him to a small, clear stream. The water was dotted with tiny fish and the area didn't hold the smell of decay or the sound of battle.

"I gotta say, I'm surprised to see you, Roy," Hughes said as Roy gathered water in his hands and splashed his face. He was hoping to snap his thoughts into focus.

"Why are you so surprised?" His tone was curious. "The order went out for all able State Alchemists to lend their services in Ishval."

"And even if it hadn't, the Flame Alchemist would've been singled out and brought here. Everyone's aware of your skill." Maes studied his best friend critically, eyes tracing every facial feature. "You've changed since the last time I saw you." He murmured softly.

"I could say the same of you, Hughes," Roy said, tone quiet. He watched as Maes pushed his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. The glare of sunlight disappeared from the glass and hazel eyes came into view. "You have the eyes of a killer." His tone grew sad.

A bitter chuckle sounded deep within Hughes's throat. "Yeah," he said sadly. "So do you."

Onyx eyes locked onto hazel ones. Words filled his thoughts, things that needed to be said, things he wanted the man before him to know. "Maes, I-."

"Captain!"

Roy ground his teeth in frustration. Of course, right when he was going to confess, tell Hughes the feelings that he held for him, a soldier ran up and stopped in front of Maes.

"A letter arrived for you," the soldier explained. He handed the envelope off, saluted and marched away.

Once the interrupting man was gone, Roy steeled himself for what he was about to do. In this time of war, there could be no secrets. Just as he opened his mouth, the object of his affections did something unexpected.

Maes unleashed a maniacal cackle, cheeks ablaze with a crimson blush of happiness. He spun around, holding the letter up in the air and spouting some nonsense about how he had a future back home.

"What are you talking about?" Dark brows furrowed in confusion.

"I've got a future, a reason to survive! She's waiting for me back home!" A giddy giggle bubbled from the man's throat. "AND HER NAME IS GRACIA!" The last bit was said in a shriek of happiness.

He gave a hopeless sigh, remembering how his best friend had twirled around and around in happiness. He also remembered the weight of disappointment that settled in his stomach. His love was an unrequited one. To cover the look of disappointment that tugged at his facial features, he had reached out and pushed the man into the stream.

"What the hell, Mustang?" Hughes yelled as he spat water from his mouth.

"A word of advice," Roy said seriously. "I've seen it before, in movies and novels. The ones who never shut up about their girls back home…. They don't make it back."

It had been said in mock seriousness, a joke to ease his mood.

"Funny, Roy." Maes growled in irritation. "Now help me outta here."

On that same day, he had realized that another of his relationships had changed.

Just as he pulled Maes from the water, apologizing for getting his precious letter wet, another person stopped by to interrupt their time together.

"Major Mustang."

He knew that voice. That commanding and slightly cold voice. He tried to place it, chewing his bottom lip in thought as he turned to face whoever it was.

"Do you still remember me?"

A gasp of recognition left his lips as the figure pushed back the hood that cloaked her face.

"Well I'll be damned. Riza Hawkeye." A dumbfounded expression was etched across his face. He gave a defeated sigh as he searched those deep brown eyes. 'This damn war, it's gotten to her too. Even she has the eyes of a killer.'

As he had searched her face, he realized something. Those feelings he had held for her long ago weren't of love. Lust, maybe, since she was a very beautiful woman. But it wasn't feelings of love, more like deep friendship.

Fingers tugged at the red elastic. He twisted it around his index finger, still deep in thought. Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of something. A golden hair was tangled around the band, swaying slightly with every movement. Suddenly, he was thrust into another memory.

"Sir, they're not in back either." Riza came up to him giving a full report.

He barely heard her. His eyes were surveying the smeared blood and chalk lines of the stone floor. Seeing the array that was drawn, the beaten and almost unrecognizable form in the center of it, he instantly knew what had taken place.

"Where are they? Where are the Elric brothers? I want them found!" Desperation clung to his words.

Turning on his heel, he made his way outside the empty house. Onyx eyes surveyed the area. There was a lone house at the top of the hill, and with the Lieutenant close behind him, he made his way toward it.

Not even bothering to knock on the door, he burst in. A short woman full of vigor and questions demanded, "Who the hell do you think you are? What do you think you're doing?" He didn't answer, just flashed his pocket watch and made his way to the boy hunched over the table.

A suit of armor was behind the kid, but he paid it no mind as he grabbed the boy's shirt, heaving him up by the cotton fabric. Anger that someone was idiotic enough to commit the taboo gripped him. But his curiosity was piqued.

"We went to your house, we saw the floor. What was that? What did you do?" His voice was raised, anger overriding his curiosity.

The boy began to shake and he looked up at Roy with sorrowful eyes. Behind the sorrow was a fire that was barely suppressed by defeat. Before the runt could speak, the armor reached out and grabbed Roy's arm.

"We're sorry," the collection of metal whispered.

"We're sorry," the metal and the kid said in unison.

It took a minute, but after feeling the armor tremble with sorrow and slight fear, he said, "You're hollow." Onyx eyes filled with wonder.

He had listened to the brothers' tale, began to understand and feel the weight of their grief. Then he had made an offer.

"You could become a State Alchemist." He said once the kids had stopped their tale.

The boy, Edward, had had his eyes glued to the table as if counting the cracks in the wood. At the mention of alchemy, his gaze snapped up. Roy watched as that golden fire began to surge.

"If you choose this path, you'd be required to serve the military in times of war. In turn, you'd be given access to restricted research." His tone was authoritative. "Given time you may find a way to get your bodies back."

That was all it took. The fire surged up in full force, flames burning away any defeat and sorrow. All that was left in those golden eyes was resolve.

It had taken constant effort, but Roy had pulled several strings, hard, so that Edward could take the State Alchemist Exam. When he had gotten his certification that fire in those eyes had blazed even brighter. If someone had told him that, after five years of watching Fullmetal grow and mature, that golden haired boy would become his lover, Roy Mustang would've laughed in their faces. But now, here he was-.

"Oi, Colonel Bastard!"

He heard the loud voice before he saw him. With a loud kick that rang through the office, Edward strode in. Sunlight played through wavy golden hair which wasn't in its usual braid.

"Morning Fullmetal," Roy said pleasantly.

"You spaced out again, didn't you Mustang? It's almost five in the evening." Edward said with a smirk.

Roy looked at the boy incredulously. "Another unproductive day. Wonderful."

The brash teen made his way to Roy's desk, sitting on the edge and crossing his legs. Leather pants squeaked across the polished wood. Golden eyes caught sight of the object in Roy's hand. "I've been looking for that!" He snapped, grabbing the hairband.

"It's been the cause of my unproductiveness," Roy said matter-of-factly.

Edward just snorted, pulling his hair into a ponytail.

Without giving it much thought, his hand reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Ed's gaudy red coat. The youth didn't resist as the older male pulled him into his lap. The boy welcomed the impact as their lips collided with a slight clink of teeth.

As his tongue swept the inside of Edward's mouth, tasting the unique blend of saltwater taffy and citrus that almost always clung to the boy's cavity, Roy's thoughts began to whirl again. He now knew what Maes had been babbling about when he talked about Gracia. Edward gave him purpose, more motivation to pursue his goals and change the country. He knew he could accomplish anything he set out to do as long as that golden fire was in his life.

The End!

AN: I honestly don't know what this is or if it makes sense. I just started writing, and this is the result.