I would like to inform everyone that the original idea of this fic was from Flair's "Colonel Foal" which was taken from Dakt37's cute comic strip entitled, "A Little Problem." I strongly suggest you to go check their works. They're really good!

Wishing Well

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters therein. They all rightfully belong to Hiromu Arakawa. The original idea of this fic was not mine either. It all started out from Dakt37.

Chapter 1: Foal

The cold wind sang a silent dirge as fallen gold and red leaves danced and rattled like snakes across the ground as Ed leaned over an old and grey well. He sighed and it echoed around the well's parapet and his eyes narrowed at its bottom, almost as if he could see its depth.

He took a shaky step back and tilted his head upwards to see an old sign perched on top of the ancient well. The sign had mellowed over with age and moss and ferns covered its edges and Ed had to squint to read the faded red inscriptions:

"Drop a coin and ring the bell for three times. Close your eyes… take a slow breath and whisper your silent wish to the well and no matter how impossible it is… It shall come to life."

Ed smirked and shook his head at how crazy it sounded to his ears. He believed that you will get what you want through hard work and determination. The world required an equivalent exchange. Like what he had done to retrieve his younger brother's real body from the gate. Prayer and wishes do not get you anywhere. Only false hope and painful waiting.

He looked at the rusty bell that hung above the well and at the tattered and worn rope that coiled like a treacherous snake around one of the well's wooden pillars. He grabbed at the rope and he closed his eyes as he felt the silent trickle of alchemic energy flowing in his veins. He opened his eyes and they gleamed dangerously as he glared at the well.

There was alchemy lurking around its structure and he mentally kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. The alchemist in him worked and demanded that he find out if what the inscriptions written on that sign were true. He dug in his pocket and he pulled out a coin.

He took a step forward and placed his human hand on the well's mouth and alchemy ran in his veins and energy licked at his skin. The alchemy was old but strong and he lifted his hand and he dropped the coin and it connected with the water with a 'plop' and for a moment the energy lifted and sizzled underneath his palm. He grabbed the rope again and he pulled and the bell tinkled loudly. It echoed across the silent hill and the energy intensified on every ring.

After the third pull Ed stepped forward again and closed his eyes as he settled both of his hands on the well's gaping mouth and the alchemy flared briefly as he took a slow breath and he bent over to whisper his wish.

He had been holding it ever since day one. And a brief image of a gorgeous man with beautiful midnight blue eyes and shiny onyx hair flashed in his mind's eye. He had been holding it off for years and now that he was eighteen he let his desires free. Now that his quest for the philosopher's stone over and Al's body regained he was free to anything now. His brother was happy with his mechanic back home and Al had been asking him to settle down. Find a person he was happy with and get married.

Ed chuckled. He wanted his superior officer; that was as clear and as bright as day. But only if the bastard could shut his mouth for once and swallow all those sarcastic comments… then probably.

He shook his head and whispered,

"I want to find someone for me at the right age and time. And that they'd know how to lock their voice boxes up." Ed snorted as he imagined Roy with duct tape over his mouth and he frowned. He loved that voice. How could he wish that? But then, this well couldn't possibly make his wish come true right? Because for one, Roy could never really return any of his feelings.

Roy Mustang sat up and buried his face in his hands as he fought to stifle the headache that had somehow crept into him in his sleep. He sighed silently and a hand went up to brush the offending black strands that matted his forehead.

He glanced at the clock and he swallowed a rather colorful curse when he suddenly realized he had to dodge several bullets as soon as he got past the office door later.

He swung his feet to the sides of the bed, miscalculated the distance between his feet and the floor and ended up in a dejected heap on the carpeted ground.

He grunted softly as he helped himself regain a bit of dignity and sat up, cross-legged. He frowned at the carpet as if it had personally offended him. He never in his life trip over air before. And to miscalculate the distance was utterly stupid and humiliating. It was almost as if he had shrunk and-

"Oh God" Roy muttered but no sound escaped his mouth and he slapped a hand over his mouth before lowering it and then tried speaking again.

Keyword. Tried.

He stared at the carpet disbelievingly, a hand over his throat. How the hell did he lose his fucking voice? He was about to pass it up as a sore throat but that scratchy feeling wasn't present and his throat didn't feel like a thousand thorns were embedded on it.

He tried speaking again, hoping that it was just temporary but then again, no sound escaped from his soft lips. He shivered. He was perfectly fine yesterday. He had not used his voice too much because he had been signing those cursed papers for god knows how long.

"For the love of the Gate…" Roy mouthed and he slowly got up. The room swayed for a while and when Roy regained his balance –after hanging on to one of the bed pillar's like a fucking lifeline- he glanced around the room curiously, almost as if the place was new to him.

And it was, because it almost looked like he was seeing it at a different height, a different angle. And he squinted and he paled all over.

He. Was. SHORTER.

He made a mad dash to his bathroom and stared at himself at the mirror (after getting a footstool, by the way). And then he realized that he was looking at his face of when he was fifteen or sixteen years old. And he was at the very exact height he had been when he was fifteen. Which meant he was short. So very short. Shorter than Ed, perhaps.

And at the memory of the alchemist, -the already tall and mature alchemist at that- Roy groaned. And at that moment he wished that the floor'd open up and eat him. He was so dead if he wasn't already. And was probably in a much more devilish hell than what he knew existed.

Because for one, he was mute, which meant he couldn't snap or yell at anyone. Two, he looked like a minor. And third, he was shorter than Edward Elric.

Roy groaned. Oh Gate help me.

Ed entered the office at his normal brisk and impatient manner. Ever since he had regained Alphonse's body and his real left leg he had been stuck at the office doing and filing paperwork and be sent to inspections once every two months with the bastard of his dreams.

He stepped in and blinked at the sight that greeted him.

Normally, Hawkeye and Falman would be at their respective desks, looking as immaculate and hard-working as ever and Havoc would be doodling stupidly at the margins of the files that needed filing or initialing. Fury and Breda would have been buried in schematics and logistics respectively. And the colonel was supposed to be at his inner sanctum. Working his arse off with all that stupid paperwork.

But today was obviously not normal for Hawkeye and Falman weren't at their desks, Havoc was not there as well and had left an undone doodle of a girl and diagrams and plans littered the desks of Fuery and Breda, half-made and undoubtedly abandoned.

He blinked and glanced at the clock near the filing cabinet. It wasn't even lunch yet. So where was everybody?

A muffled thud came from Roy's office and a heated conversation assaulted his ears so he sauntered towards the door, knocked and promptly came in.

"Hey, what's everybody excited about?... Oh." His eyes landed on a boy no older than sixteen with onyx hair, sitting at one of the couches and with the uniform of Colonel and -… SAY WHAT?!

Ed did a double take, hoping to have missed the insignias on his shoulders, but the lad was indeed a Colonel and he looked amazingly like bastard, only younger.

"Hello Edward." Lieutenant Hawkeye greeted him and she was standing next to the boy whose head was down, looking embarrassed.

"Good Morning, Lieutenant. Umm… who's…?"

Before Edward could finish the boy looked up and he stared at the midnight blue eyes only one person he knew had. But the face was rounder and the eyes larger but much cuter than the Mustang he was accustomed to seeing. But the face was familiar. He had seen it a lot at the picture frames that littered the Hughes' house. But this time he was seeing it for real.

Ed, being a genius, put two and two together and immediately recognized the lad, and then exclaimed, "BASTARD?!?"

Roy dropped his head back on his hands and sagged.

"What happened?" Edward demanded and he got shrugs as replies.

"Well, apparently, Roy has drunk some sort of Elixir and is now looking like a sixteen year old." Havoc muttered sarcastically but Riza glared at him.

"But why? How did this happen?" He was asking Roy now but the man-turned-boy merely stared at him, wanting to answer but cannot.

"Why won't you answer me, bastard?!" Ed fumed. But Roy merely looked apologetically at him.

"He can't." Breda said from behind him.

"What do you mean 'He can't'?!"

"He can't." Breda repeated matter-of-factly, "He's gone mute. He can't talk."

And at that Ed paled all over. The bastard? mute? Why? How? What the hell happened? He should probably ask someone to check Hell's temperature because he was sure as hell it had frozen over! The bastard did not lose his voice! He could not!

It was impossible! He could not even imagine it! The bastard –Roy- needed his voice and Edward –not that he'd admit it- loved it as well. That voice was his anchor and sometimes it was his drug. That smooth, deep, sexy voice was his personal brand of heroine. And a Roy with no voice was like Mona Lisa without her smile. And Hughes without his freaking camera and fucking pictures! And Armstrong without those freaky sparkles! And Winry without her precious wrench.

Ed was pulled back from his crazy reverie when Roy sighed silently and then stood up, with Ed directly in front of him. The office froze like someone had just pressed the 'Pause' button. Silence dragged as all eyes locked upon the pair like they could not believe what they were seeing. And Fuery actually took off his glasses, wiped them clean of imaginary dirt, and then replaced them on top of his nose again.

Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, after years of struggle and ranting, was now taller than Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Hero of the Ishval Rebellion and Ultimate Bastard Extraordinaire. And was not just taller. He was broader, more masculine and was at least half a head taller now. Given that he was at least half a head shorter than Havoc.

Roy blinked, his wide black eyes staring at Edward innocently and Edward had to fight down a squeal and to desperately stop a nosebleed. That was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his entire life! … Wait, back up… he hadn't just thought of that, had he? Wut teh…

But Roy's mouth fell into a 'D' lying sideways of realization when he grasped the fact that Ed was indeed taller and his face was stuck in a silent 'WTF?'

But before any of them could utter a word the pale mahogany office door of the de-aged Colonel flung open and a flurry of blue, gold and black dashed straight to where Ed and Roy were staring at each other with wide eyes.

"Hey, Roy! I need those files regarding- Oh my God what the hell happened to you?"

And at that, Roy could only groan.

Yup, hell was starting to sound very appealing right now.

A/N: So, Chapter One ends. I hope you enjoyed this little bunny. And I hope I didn't anger anybody by posting this fic without any notice. Please review! And Music of the Heart shall be updated soon. I think... O_o... I'm extremely sorry for all the late updates. I'll get around to all of my other stories soon. Please review and let me know whether I'd be better off deleting this or continuing it.