O-oh, another fanfic? I'm on fire. :D

This was written for an lj community, and I finished it at midnight, so it may be kind of short, but I'm still pleased with the turnout. I wrote it based off of the Nina arc of the anime, because Ed is so deliciously vulnerable then, and he's a fresh member of the military.

See if you can catch the color theme I threw in there. Well, I hope you enjoy this short little fic!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. (FX: YAY!)

Deep pits of dark, pure obsidian and glimmering, contrasting golden orbs locked on one another, and refused to shift.

Onyx sighed deeply in frustration, and gold sparkled fiercely with defiance. "I'm telling you this one more time, Edward." Colonel Roy Mustang spoke slowly, not bothering to mask the stubborn annoyance in his cool tone. "You were ordered to analyze Tucker's research. I suggest you do so."

"And I'm telling you this one more time, Mustang," young Major Edward Elric answered in his brattiest, most infuriating tone. "No."

A reddish tinge of frustration cleanly sliced Roy's patience, slowly depriving him of it. Clearly Edward was fighting fire with fire. Roy shouldn't mind this choice of weapon...after all, fire was the main part of his artillery...but the twelve-year-old soldier obviously had more than enough experience with it.

Roy raised a white-gloved hand to his brow, reminding himself to think of the dire circumstances. Edward was still a child...nothing more. He was, deep inside, grieved by his loss. He didn't deserve to investigate the case that ripped open old wounds and carved in fresh, new ones.

Cool blue seeped into Roy's once blood-red thoughts, allowing him to remain calm and focused, as well as keep the near impossible original task at the top of his extensive list of priorities.

Now what approach to take...? Roy scanned his mental menu of options. Forceful option was out, but it was certainly worth another shot, for it was what Roy was best at.

"Edward," Roy began in a deep, commanding voice, leaning forward intimidatingly. "Your orders are to investigate Tucker's research." Ed nodded slowly to show he understood. "These are direct orders from both the Fuhrer and the officer that outranks you." Another small nod. "Then obviously, you have no choice but to follow these orders."

"I do have a choice," Ed replied, turning his pert little nose in the air. "My choice is no."

"Then you wish to give up your title as State Alchemist?" asked Roy, looking as if he were taking false pity on the boy. "The duty of restoring your brother's body is small enough to be passed up on immature request?"

Roy knew he had struck the right nerve. White hot anger pierced Ed's heart like a knife as streams of angry, shouted words poured out of the child's mouth, like water out of a leaky faucet.

"SHUT UP!" Ed yelled, standing and clenching his fists. "DON'T TALK ABOUT TUCKER AND AL LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, BASTARD, SO YOU'RE IN NO POSITION TO TALK!"

It was Roy's turn to catch the infectious strain of white hot anger as he stood up, a much more intimidating gesture due to his grander height. "Edward! How dare you yell at your superior!" he half-bellowed, anger coursing through his veins and sending a bitter taste to the back of his throat. "You joined the military! This is your responsibility that you volunteered for!"

Ed was actually shaking with rage, the flames he had so casually toyed with now spreading, burning way out of control. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" He screamed, his throat coated with a metallic taste of soreness.

"You're acting like a child!" spat Roy venomously, his throat also becoming progressively sorer. "You're not a child anymore, Edward Elric, so stop acting like one!"

Bingo. Roy got some sickly green-tinted satisfaction as he watched Ed's defenses crumble in front of him. The boy banged one hand against the desk, bringing the other to cover his face in shame. The greenish feeling of wrath radiated through Roy, making him feel wicked but satisfied, nonetheless. It was obvious to him who had won this raging battle.

Ed fell to his knees pathetically, his cool automail hand over his face still. His sallow, scrawny shoulders began to tremble and quake alarmingly. "You don't understand..." he wailed.

The green shade quickly faded to a reddish-plum one as Roy's stomach began to fill with terrible, bubbling-hot guilt. Edward was still a child, and children needed peace, tranquility, and love to grow on. And at that moment, Roy felt that ugly, maroon red despise well up in him...despise for Tucker, who created the young girl's form of a miserable chimera, despise for her murderer, who had splattered dark, almost black crimson blood in the shape of entrails all over the back of the alley...Goddammit, he felt despise for the military for ordering the child to analyze research of this emotional issue.

Roy's mind wandered to Edward's brother, and what he heard Ed say about him. "I'm going to restore his body, no matter what."

The violet guilt still tossed itself around Roy's stomach as the young Colonel once again accessed his options on action. The only approach he had ever really mastered was the forceful approach, which had worked up until now. He was sure the kind approach was in his head somewhere, albeit somewhere in the back of his head, lying abandoned and covered in gossamer cobwebs.

But it was there, and Roy was almost positive it was functional. Besides, he would absolutely kill to have that hot, waxy guilt stop oozing bubbles in the pit of his stomach.

Almost reluctantly but knowing the importance of his duty, Roy knelt down low by Edward.

The ambiance of the boy was dulled to navy and black tones, clearly indicating a severe bout of depression. Roy's thoughts drifted once again, rather frantically, as a small drop of crystalline, clear liquid splashed to the ground. What should he do? How could he nurture this kind of problem?

Roy observed parents take care of very slightly injured children at the park in Central. The kids would always come running to the guardians, sporting small, ruby-red lesions on their fingers or egg-sized bruises in an angry purple shade, bawling their eyes out. Then the parents would hug the kids reassuringly, whispering gentle words to them, because they knew everything would be all right.

But Roy didn't know what was going to happen to the Elrics. The boys were always going to be up to their necks in danger with Ed's title, not making Roy's job as a superior any easier. He wouldn't know what was going on with their missions until they were over, where they ever were, whether they were safe or not...

At that frightening possibility, Roy Mustang pulled his subordinate into a tight, warm, bone-crushing embrace.

Warm yellow splotches erupted in Roy's eyes as he pulled the small boy close, absently running his fingers up and down the bony spine. He was shocked when Edward didn't push away. In fact, he was certain he could almost feel the child melting away in his arms, relaxing, the sobbing now ceasing...

Then in a flash it was over, and Edward was Edward, flustered and drawn up and out of Roy's reach. Roy had to allow a chuckle escape his mouth. Ed looked so confused it was downright hilarious...

Stifling a laugh, Roy allowed himself to become serious again. He lifted himself from the hunched crouching position and walked to Ed, resting his hands on the boy's gaunt shoulders. "Do you understand me now, Edward?" he asked, his tone firm but gentle. "I want you to go back down there and try your best to organize Tucker's research."

Ed bit his lip, which had begun to tremble, and averted his once sunny golden gaze from Roy's, proceeding to bottle up his sadness.

Roy sighed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with a gloved hand, though his insides were peppered with sweet, candy pink spots of sympathy. "But, if you ever need help with it...if it ever gets too hard for you...I'll see what I can do," he offered, all the while cursing Ed's delicate childhood spirit.

He watched in delight as Ed's face lit up like a light of a sunrise. "Really?' he asked, his throat still croaky and gruff from his previous tears. "T-thank you!" And before Roy could say "you're welcome" to him, Edward had bolted out the door, most likely going to tell his younger brother the good news.

As Roy watched him scamper down the hall, he pondered the color orange. He himself had never been particularly fond of it, until now. After all, what better way was there to represent euphoria than a bright, creamy shade of orange?

Oh, that's it all right. I know, short, huh? Whatevs! Please, remember to leave a review on your way out!