2. Roy Mustang has spent years looking at people's backs. Saluting and bowing to superiors who simply walked away once acknowledged and watching subordinates who left his office after acknowledging him.

He'd never said it in so many words, but Roy had missed Edward Elric. Like everyone else who'd know the boy, he'd often been haunted by dreams of the day Ed would return like a pheonix risen from the ashes, full of life and fire and determination. There was the quiet, unspoken assumption among Fullmetal's close aquaintences that Edward's return would bring some sense of normality back into their lives, as if all the things that had gone wrong since would suddenly right themselves in his wake. Or maybe Roy was just tired and bored, subconciously yearning for the excitment represented by Ed. Edward was all violent ambition, tempered by an intelligence that was anything but ordinary. Roy missed the way Ed fumed and fought; the way Ed burned himself into the ground to achieve his goals. He missed the way Ed always made sure the shoot him a sly glance or a sour glare over his shoulder before sliding out of his office once again.

Edward stayed in the office all day, reading quietly and unobtrusively as Roy shakily went about his work attempting to still the thoughts racing through his mind. At the end of the day they left the office and walked side by side against the smokey sunset- Roy with his hands in his pockets; Ed with his arms folded behind his neck behind his neck and neither saying a word.

'Where have you been?' Roy wanted to ask. Anyone would. Ed had been missing for seven years having disappeared from Armistice without a trace. He was older now, maturity etching deep furrows in his brow. His clothes were unfamiliar- not completely foreign, but stiffer and far more formal than anything Roy would have ever imagined Edward Elric wearing. He wanted to ask, but didn't. Instead he waited- Edward was Edward afterall and would explain things when he was good and ready to explain, or not at all. Fishing for answers would only earn him a growl, glare and a vague fist waved in his direction and Roy had to admit that there was something refreshing about sharing a moment of quiet peace with Edward. It was a less awkward silence than he had expected.

"So, what happened to your eye?" it was so very typical that Edward would ask so casually.

Roy told him, and Ed looked up at him in shock. He didn't ask about the Fuhrer, which was fine because Roy didn't particularily want to talk about it.

"Auntie told me that you retired from the military. For a while at least." Ed stared at the building tops and Roy stared at the ground.

"I did."

Ed looked at him, a raised eyebrow and a quizzical frown, "I would have imagined you'd have been married by now. You owe Hughes at least that much."

Roy stiffened at that comment and momentarily met Ed's eyes, "I fail to see what Hughes has to do with my career choices, Fullmetal."

Ed held the gaze a moment before rolling his eyes back towards the sky and sighing heavily, "I was looking forwards to you being Fuhrer, you know. Up in your shiny office staring out the window and being all smug with yourself. I'm disappointed in you Mustang."

Roy surpressed an intinctual smirk. Edward was right. It was disappointing, "Well, I must apologize Fullmetal. I should have considered your feelings."

Ed bit his lip and inhale, as if he were sucking back an annoyed response, "So. Why are you still here wearing that uniform?"

Roy paused, and then didn't answer because there was really nothing to say about it. How was he supposed to explain to Edward that no matter how unhappy it made him, there just wasn't anything else for him to do. He'd enrolled when he was seventeen years old, now he was thirty seven. Twenty years of his life devoted to the kind of work that can only take you so far. The military was an entire culture of staring at people's back and shoes- never their faces.

He noticed that Ed had stopped walking. He was giving Roy a look that told him the last question hadn't been a rethorical one. Roy sighed and held out his hands diplomatically- he was wearing gloves without transmutation circles. The country hadn't needed the Flame Alchemist for years, "Tell me, Fullmetal," he sighed, "Once you achieve your dream, what's left?" Nothing, he answered himself sadly, and the shadows in Edward's eyes seemed to echo the sentiment.