Okay, first up I should mention that I did not write this alone, I kinda thought up the idea, wrote like two lines then gave it to my friend Cats_and_NCIS_Obsessed to finish for me. She did so I touched it up a little then posted it here. If you like it you should go read her other stories, they're amazing :)

(;-;)

He listens to the soft pitter patter of the rain on the roof and races the drops as they glide past him on the window. The room is silent. He revels in it.

The phone rings.

His gaze is torn from the drizzling window and his peace is broken as the room seems to erupt with life. He was used to that by now.

Roy Mustang sighs, reaches for the phone and holds it against his ear.

"Hey Roy!" comes the exited voice. His heart stops. "Whatcha doing?"

Mustang lets out a strangled gasp as he tries not to choke.

"Whaa..aat?" He stutters and hears laughter from the other end.

He knows that laughter. He knows that voice. That agonisingly annoying chatter that ignites everything around it like a sparkler. The one he never thought he'd hear again. He really should've expected this.

"Haha not very eloquent are we Roy? Guess that's why you haven't found a girlfriend yet..."

Mustang's shock turns to anger at those words and he longs to slam down the phone but knows if he does that he'll never be ignited like this again.

"Roy? Roy?" he blinks and realizes his mistake.

"Breda?" He manages.

"Yeah, who did you think I was?" comes the confused reply.

"Ahh... Nobody. Can I call you back?" He hangs up the phone and blinks.

"Shouldn't you have expected this? I mean, these guys all follow you" He gestures to the room full of people. Mustang looks up and finds himself looking straight at him.

There's no mistaking that gleam in his eyes from behind his glasses, that proud stance and that one piece of hair that just will not slick back.

"But... how?" He finds himself lost for words, "I... we buried you. I watched them do it."

Hughes just smiles at him in that infuriating way he does.

(;-;)

"Hey, hey wait up. You can't ignore me forever."

He mumbles something that someone could decipher to be "Really, just try me." Then smirks and continues his brisk pace, he's never backed down from a bet.

There's much shouting as he walks to work, it blends together after a while and he tries to block out his voice by focusing on his feet. He tries not to notice the people trying to sell him fruit at the side of the road, or the legless boy begging for money for his medicine. It was easier to block them out when they didn't have faces. He doesn't even notice his subordinates standing to attention until Havoc complains that his arm is sore and Hawkeye snaps at him for his insolence.

He dismisses them and they all get back to work. Except for Hawkeye, who well and truly lives up to her name by never missing a thing.

"Lieutenant." She jumps slightly in her seat.

"Yes Colonel."

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you're doing your work sir." He doesn't believe her for a second.

"Very well." He nods his head down, looking down at his paperwork until he's sure she isn't watching anymore.

"Colonel, Colonel." Hues calls in a high pitched voice. The Colonel doesn't respond. "Sure, you'll listen to her but never to me."

"That's because she's real." He snaps, louder than intended.

"Sir?" There's worry in her voice.

"Get back to work Hawkeye." There's no joking in his voice. He's angry, pissed. He doesn't notice the way she flinches at his tone.

"Oooooooooh, you're going to be in her bad books now." Laughter. "Certainly never
going to be in her bed." A wink. More laughter.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" They all look up this time. All the faces in his office. Just as she's about to say something he cuts her off. "I'm going out."

"I'll accompany you sir." She says, removing her jacket from her chair.

"I'm not a baby lieutenant, I can go by myself." He's furious.

"I didn't mean to imply you couldn't sir. But..." He strides out of the office before she finishes her sentence.

(;-;)

He hesitantly knocks at the door. He should visit more often. He really should, but he doesn't.

"Hello Gracia."

"Roy." She pulls her face into what could resemble a smile and shows him into the kitchen. "I haven't seen you in a while." She puts the kettle on. Her eyes are lidded, she is tired.

"Yeah, sorry about that." He tries to smile, it doesn't reach his eyes, he wonders if it ever did.

"You've got part of a country to run." He doesn't need her to make excuses for him, he can do that for himself.

"Mummy?" The little girl walks out from her room, rubbing her eyes. "Uncle Roy!" She shouts as she jumps up to hug him.

"Isn't she cute?" Gracia's voice wasn't this deep before. "Look how much she's grown! Look at her hair, she did that all by herself." Elicia's hair is in two uneven pig tails, hair spewing out the sides.

"Yeah" his says quietly, "she's beautiful"

This seems to make Hughes happy, "Elicia come and play with Daddy!" The little girl nods and runs outside, chasing the father she doesn't even know is there.

"Um, you couldn't..." He drags his eyes and away to see Gracia holding a jar to him, asking him to open it.

"Sure." One twist. That's all it takes.

"Sometimes I really miss having a man around the house." Her voice breaks slightly and she trembles just a little.

"Look at how cute she is! Did you see how fast she ran? Can you believe how much she's grown? It's just so amazing!" His voice is resonating throughout the house; he just can't seem to block it out.

"I just miss him so much! And I don't think Elicia even understands." He thinks her cries would usually be too loud for him to ignore but all her can hear is the proud ramblings of a father who never got to see enough of his child.

For the first time ever he is thankful that he lost his heart years ago, because if he hadn't he knows it would be breaking now.

(;-;)

He stands by the pile of dirt that covers what used to be his best friend, pretending he is down there with him safe and warm. That nothing can be wrong because he has nothing left to lose or live for. The sun is warm but the wind blows harshly, pushing his hair into his eyes and sticking to his wet cheeks. It amazes him how it always seems to rain when he visits Hughes' grave and yet the ground always seems so dry.

"You've been following me around." He stares at the grave. His loose jacket billows in the wind.

The silence is deafening. He laughs.

"So the one time I feel like talking and you're ignoring me. I really must be going crazy, even my imaginary friend won't speak to me."

"I'm not imaginary"

He stares at the grave. The rain makes it hard for him to see.

"Now who's ignoring who?"

"Why are you doing this?" His voice is choked.

"Because you think you need me."

"But you're not real, how could I possibly need you?"

"I think we both know that I can't answer that."

The sun hides behind a cloud and suddenly the elements battering him isn't so pleasant anymore, for the first time ever Hughes' calm demeanour isn't so comforting and he finds himself shouting.

"How could you do this to me? You were the closest thing I ever had to a friend, you were the one person I could depend upon and I needed you, I fucking needed you so much! After everything, you just up and leave me! I hate you, I hate you for this. I'll never ever forgive you!" His fists clench together until his nails press into his skin.

The rain continues to smatter against him; the wind still blows his hair into his reddened eyes. His throat hurts.

"You'll never find happiness that way," The calm voice softly continues from behind him, "better to light a candle than curse the darkness"

He stares down at his clean white gloves.

"But fire only ever seems to cause destruction."

(;-;)

Roy Mustang leans momentarily onto the bench in front of him, contemplatively casts his dark eyes down before downing his gin.

"Don't you think you ought to slow down?"

Roy ignores him and orders another drink.

The bar is loud, he is surrounded by dancers and music and alcohol. He feels their red eyes boring into him as he sits hunched over his drink, face only centimetres from the alcohol soaked material covering the countertop.

The door swings open and he hears familiar footsteps coming towards him. They carry power and purpose, he wonders what his own would sound like. He does not turn to face her, his eyes never leaving his cup. He hears the squeak of the barstool when she sits down.

"I should've known I'd find you here Colonel." She says, her voice is full of confidence. She reaches out and squeezes his hand, he feels her fingers interlaced in his own. There is strength there.

He pulls his hand away from hers and downs his drink. He leaves some money behind as he moves to leave but she grabs him, her grip like steel.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

He loses her grip and tries to walk with purpose to the door but the sound of his footsteps is pain and suffering, resonating through the empty pub.

(;-;)

Its 6am. He looks terrible. His eyes are red, his clothes are dirty. He didn't get any sleep the night before. How could he? The talking, the crying, the screaming it just never stopped. He lasted till about 4am, ignoring Hughes' offers to knock him out he finally decided upon walking the long way to work.

"Colonel." She's worried.

"Lieutenant." He doesn't mean to sound horrible and sarcastic but he has no intentions of talking to her and her voice might as well be a jet taking off.

"Colonel, about last night-" He cuts her off.

"Don't worry Lieutenant. I won't drink on a school night again." He hates himself.

The rest of the men walk in and Hawkeye walks back to her desk, looking furious. He thinks this conversation can't be over.

"Oooooooooh! Jeez, she looks pissed!" Roy ignores the voice. "Hey, did you notice the bandage on Elicia's leg? You really should go and make sure she's okay. She's so small, what if she gets sick, or worse?" He sounds hysterical.

"I don't care about your damn daughter!" He dodges their glances and walks out, this time she follows him.

"Colonel." He ignores her and keeps walking. "Colonel!"

"Just think, you would have given so much to have her run after you."

His pace seems to quicken. He's never been fast enough to run away.

"Sir!" She's running now. "Roy!" That makes him stop; she hasn't called him that in so, so long. "Colonel, what's happening to you?"

He stands there, frozen. Contemplating his next move. He tries to pull away but her grip tightens before he can move. "Roy, you're going to stop walking away from me and tell me what the hell is going on here!"

"You know what, it's none of your damn business lieutenant." He snaps.

"Now, now Roy; that's no way to speak to a lady."

"Shut up!" He turns with a start and forcibly detaches himself from her, "Just shut the fuck up!"

He is facing her now, her grip is strong, her pupils are trained on his face. He grips back and breaks her gaze, can't bear to see the confusion and fear that clouds her deep blue eyes.

"I didn't say anything." She says quietly. His head aches.

"I... I'm having a bit of trouble." He stutters, weak. He looks back up into her eyes and finds he can't look away.

(;-;)

Years later, he walks down the old road; her hand is still placed within his own. He squeezes and feels her strength in return. She's still pushing him to the top, keeping him upright.

Hues still hangs around on occasion but Roy never noticed that sometime during the years the other voices stopped. He thinks he will be okay.