DISCLAIMER: Full Metal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.
A/N: This is just an idea I had a while back, and just recently found in my documents folder. I didn't like it at first, but realized that it may have some potential hidden underneath, and the more I read it, the more I see how it could work out. I hope you all agree and your interest is piqued a little. The prologue is written in the present tense and in first person. First things first, I will NOT be writing the whole story like this, however you may find a few chapters here and there will be from Hawkeye's POV just as this is, just for kicks. Please enjoy.
PROLOGUE:
Lately, it's been getting harder to concentrate. Why? I'm not so sure. It doesn't even make that much sense to me, but I'm trying to not let it interfere with my work. However, no matter how hard I try, my eyes just seem to wander upwards, the words on the page no longer capturing my attention. Further and further they go until-
"Lieutenant!"
"Yes, sir?" My pen falls to the desk with a loud clatter and my hand assumes its rightful place in salute.
The Colonel stares at me. Why is he staring at me? Did I do something wrong? Is he angry with-
Out of the corner of my eye, I see that hand just sitting before my forehead. Now why on Earth had I done that? I was saluting him for no apparent reason. Perhaps it was merely an impulse, nothing to get too worried about.
"Are you feeling all right?" he asks, looking concerned.
I nod quickly in reassurance. I am quick to deny any feelings of illness around the Colonel. I am not one to admit to weakness easily. He knows that, so he's just going to try and guess.
"You're acting odd," he points out, as if I didn't already notice.
"I'm sorry, sir..." I reply calmly. I'm not quite sure what he's expecting for an answer.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Lieutenant?" his eyes flash momentarily, showing intense signs of worry. Though, I could be imagining things. It could simply be the glare from the window. The Colonel wouldn't worry about something like this.
But the window is behind him. Strange...
"No, sir," I tell him firmly. "It's nothing."
His eyes narrow almost accusingly, but he returns to his seat. He is failing to finish his original sentence, which leads me to believe he's already forgotten what he wanted me to do. It wouldn't be the first time he's done that.
The silence between us tells me that I'm no longer his main focus. I sit down, though I don't return to my work. Unfortunately, my mind seems to have started wandering again.
He's glancing at me again. I don't understand why he does that. Does he want to make sure I'm working? Or is he trying to figure something out? If so, what is it? I've nothing to hide. He knows all of my secrets...
Well, perhaps not all of them, but only a fair few are still hidden from the complex mind of Colonel Mustang. Those I have vowed to keep with me until I am safely underground. I'm not sure I'll ever tell him.
Okay, I must focus now. I don't want to be here until dawn like last night. These overnight work sessions are not as fun as one would expect. They tend to be rather stressful, and the Colonel has the nasty habit of turning into a child-like character. His whining is enough to drive anyone mad. It's strange how I've managed to keep my sanity this long. Especially working with the men beside me. In case you didn't notice, they're not always..."all there", when it comes to things.
Don't get me wrong, I love them all very much.
But they're idiots. Every single one of them.
Even the Colonel, and his million and a half dates a week, and all the gawking nurses down by the-
"Lieutenant?"
Oh, not again.
"Yes, sir?" This time, I remain in my seat and my hand grips the pen tightly. My eyes lock onto his. Yes, there is definitely something there, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I'm not the only one who's acting odd.
"I received word from the Führer today," he says slowly. This is never good news, especially when addressed with such a dry tone.
"And?" He's falling silent again. Perhaps he has forgotten again?
"He's got something for me," he explains. "Something I'm supposed to look into."
I nod, not sure where he's going with this. He's not going to have me try to get him out of it is he? Or does he want ME to do it instead, because he's got some hot date he wants to go on tonight.
Well, if that's the case then COUNT ME OU-
"I'd like it if you'd help me out..."
Oh no. Oh no. Not another midnight session. Not for me. I'm going home and I am sleeping. That's right, Mr. Mustang. You heard me, it's about time you do some of your own work, instead of having me-
"I'm going to need someone to tag along, and watch my back, you know?" he adds, glancing up at me again. "If I do recall, you said you'd be there for me, to do the very same. What do you say, Hawkeye?"
I'm smiling. I don't know why, but I'm smiling. Why does he always do this to me? He knows I can't say no. He knows I'll always be there for him. He knows I've got his back.
I set my gun onto the desk and gaze at it lovingly. Slowly, I look up. He is waiting patiently for my answer. I'm not sure why he doesn't already assume what it is. I'm not even sure why he bothered to ask.
After all, I had said that I'd be there for him to "do the very same".
"Of course, sir." I answer.
"Good." is his only reply. He leans back into his chair, his face disappearing behind several files of papers.
I can no longer see the onyx hues of his eyes, however, I've got this strange feeling that he's still looking at me, even when I can't see him. I'm not being paranoid, but it's a feeling I've had for a long time. It's as though, I'm not the only one doing the protecting around here.
I retract my earlier statement.
Not all the men I work with are idiots. They certainly have their moments, yes, but I'm certain, at times, that there is much more going on behind those friendly blank stares than meets the eye.
A/N: So there you are. It's very short, but it's only the prologue. If you're interested to see what happens next, please review and let me know. I'm keen to hear from you! Thanks a lot.