A/N: I know, another story. That's three incomplete stories so far. I have another I'm refraining from posting until the other two are done so don't worry I'm not too lazy.

Okay: Roy and Maes past, how they met, how I want to (with my sadism) see they're families as, et cetera.

Because I suck, I'm posting this with no knowledge of what or if it is revealed, what their pasts, how they met, and what their families were like. Call it an alternate universe if there is a real backstory.

Roy POV

Running. Panic. Screaming. Drowning.

The water was filling up my lungs as I struggled to reach the surface of the foamy water. I kicked, but that was futile. I could feel all the air trying to burst from my clenched teeth beyond buttoned lips but I had to hold on for a couple more seconds. I added my arms to the movement and broke the surface of the water. I exhaled and whipped my head around trying to find them again.

But before I could breath in new air a fell back into the water, breathless. I kicked and flailed my arms and broke free of the sea water again. This time I breathed in, and had no time to open my eyes. For some reason I opened my eyes once I was underwater.

They stung like fire was licking them and I saw blurred shapes above me, shaped like people! People! I kicked and squirmed and grabbed the floating man's arm. I held on for life.

I gasped and spluttered, "Sir, do you know where Mr and Mrs-" The fragmented sentence ended in a scream. It pierced the sky and scorched my already burning throat.

Though my eyes were immensely blurry I could not mistake that smell and that color that filled the water and the clothes the second mate of the cruise liner was wearing.

Red. Everywhere.

Rotting, metal and salt filled my lungs. I wanted to run and hide from it but if I let go I would only sink. My fear of drowning was greater than my fear of a dead corpse, I didn't release my grip.

Dead and gone. To keep my mind from the dead thing that was keeping me afloat I searched for mother and father. I looked about and the sounds of the world came back to my ringing ears. The lash of waves on me and the screams of the sea's victims.

There were people swimming, trying to at least. And there was fire attached to planks of wood. I saw a life boat way off on the horizon of my vision. I tried yelling but no one heard, they only cared to save themselves.

The ship was still falling apart, sinking. It was so far from me though, did the waves really push me that far? No! Mother! Father! Panic swept over me, I had no recall as how to think properly or how to scream out. I cried and pleaded in a soft fading voice, "Mother. Father. Help me.... Help.. me.... Someone please.." I trailed off.

I felt a soft nudging on my shoulder and saw a broad wood piece. I grabbed it and found that it was around seven or eight centimeters thick also. I let go of the man and told him I was sorry. I climbed on the raft-like structure and slowly fell asleep to the rocking of the water. The numbness of the ocean freezing my bare feet and finger tips as my limbs swayed in the water.

Maes POV

I hate the beach. I know, I know. Why would you live by a beach if you hate it so much? My parents that's why. They completely rule my life. No friends. No fun. Study study study. How lame.

They're both out right now though, so I'll walk on the beach, maybe kill a crab and try to cook it or something else seemingly exciting.

The cold sand is rubbing a hole into my feet I swear. I plop down into the sand and stare off into space. The landscape is beautiful here, I gotta give it that. And the ocean would be fun to play in if I had friends. The sunset shaded everything in a new light. The sky streaked with pinkish clouds on an orange horizon.

I looked at the water. It was glowing with an orangy radiance only found on this coastline, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. My eyes trailed the the shore to find a victim crab. What I found instead was a bobbing object in the reeds about 30 yards away.

I craned my head and stood up to get a good look. I inhaled a sharp breath.

There was somebody in the water.

I ran awkwardly across the vacant beach. There was no one on the beach because my father owned the land and made it his Private Beach. No one would have found the body, no one except me.

I wadded in the waist high water, it was a boy. His clothes were those of a higher class and he looked well enough except for the green tinge to his skin from the sea and the bags under his small eyes. His head was sideways in a clomp of reeds and grass. His limbs were afloat but his body was not. The only thing keeping half his head above water were the reeds.

Sleeping? Dead? Undead?

I knelled down and put an arm under his head, so light. I lifted it out of the water and spilled a huge amount from his mouth. Quickly I used my other arm to pick up the rest of his body. As I clumsily and hurriedly lifted him up baby style into my arms I realized just how thin he was. Must have been only 90 lbs or so, and he looked (if not for his weight and baby face) my age.

I ran as fast as I could without falling to the bank. I set him down and remembered living people had pulses. I put two fingers to his throat and listened in his mouth for a breath. There was a faint whisper of a heartbeat but no breath. I ripped open his pricey shirt and tried pumping the water from his lungs.

I pressed hard and fast rhythmicly until a fountain of water streamed from his mouth and his eyes burst open. He sat upright and after a second of realization he *keeled onto his side and threw up a ton of water. If I knew better, I'd say a few pints. He sounded like he was hyperventilating, he was shaking from the harsh cold and his fingers were twitching.

I looked down and saw he had only a battered sock and a bare foot, his bare foot was heavily tinged pink and the discoloration scared me. I took off my slightly wet jacket and threw it on him. The sudden movement of the object hitting him made his shriek and swerve to look at me.

The boy's eyes, tired and swollen were filled with tears and a horrid fear. His soaking wet black hair was drooping lazily over his forehead and his mouth was quivering, slightly ajar as if he wanted to say something.

I reached out and pulled the jacket to cover his ears and buttoned the first button to keep it on. I stood and lifted him by his arms to his shaking feet. I held his shoulders and we stumbled back to the house.

Reviews for this prologue?

*Keeled v (KEE-EEL-ED[?]); ... i dunno how to explain it in words, falling over from exhaustion. People i know use it to describe something dieing. I on't even know if i spelled it right or if it's a real word but..

Okay I know Maes isn't exactly acting very much like his usual demeanor but, hey these two are suppose to be like 12 in this story. So how do you like it? I know I've strayed from my other two incomplete stories, but I have writing ADD and can't work on the same thing for too long, okay?!

Oh yes, and I know I accidentally switched Maes's pov half way through from present to past tense. I work so much better with the past tense.

NO I won't be fixing it.