knowledge of Fullmetal Alchemist is required for this story and it helps to have seen the last episode of the entire show.

this chapter i REALLY need some review on!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, its characters, logos, themes, automail, items, rights, etc. There are direct quotes in here, but I made this story up to bridge a gap.

After the passage of two more months, I was able to stand and walk about some. Of course, I know that my time spent bedridden would give me some degree of muscular dystrophy. Therefore, I was ordered to walk around my room as often as I had the strength to. When I asked if I could do some stretches or workouts, the doctor advised against anything too intense. With the increase of dead cells in my body, my hair and fingernails have grown considerably. The versatility of my left hand only got better as I recovered. Although it, like my legs, was weak, I could finally start to do more things for myself.

Lieutenant Hawkeye visited more frequently. Sometimes she would take over the nurses' chores, such as washing my hair or giving me support as I stood and walked.

One visit found her apologizing to me again for not being there to protect me. I explained to her the world is full of imperfections. Somehow, it gets along as best as it can with those imperfections.

"And that's what makes the world so damn beautiful," I said, looking into her eyes and stroking her cheek with my newly strengthened left hand.

She smiled, but as if to hide something, her expression changed and she shoved a piece of apple she had been cutting up into my mouth, commanding "Shut up and eat."

With that instance in mind, you can also say she fed me, something the nurses used to do. Of course, I can now do that myself. But I humored her.

Another month found me back in my own house. I still tired faster than the average person but at least I could finally walk for a relatively long time. My bandages were removed, and I wore an eye patch that was wide enough to cover the disfigured part of my face. They left the stitches on my chest, saying that that was a wound that would not easily undergo epulosis. When I asked them to share their undoubtedly large vocabulary, they translated it will take some time for a scar to form there. It had been a deep and mortal slash, after all.

Now I could bathe normally, as in a shower and a tub. Formerly, the nurses and I had to be careful not to get the wounds and bandages wet, so sponges were applied to me.

I also went into Central HQ once in a while. My first visit back I was surrounded by faithful soldiers welcoming me back. Over time I would slowly assume the duties of the Fuhrer. Right now, I could hardly sit still for more than an hour. So I did most of my work at home. Among other things, I have a new office. Now I have a window on the opposite side of the building.

For years, out of sheer habit, I would use Riza Hawkeye as my personal advisor. Thus, I took her everywhere with me. Now that she had other things and people to attend to, her absence from my side was weird. Originally, the reason I kept her around more than the rest of my staff was simply because she has better judgment (okay, maybe also because she's easier on the eyes). In the past, when she wasn't with me, I felt like I wasn't accomplishing anything efficiently. Now, I just missed her presence.

This isn't right. I've dated many women, but to think the one I have these feelings for has been right under my nose for years! I needed to do something fast. It's obvious that she cares for me. Why else do you protect someone (and regret for not doing so)? I need to find out how she feels about me.

Get yourself a wife! Hughes urged me one specific phone call. Give a rest! I retorted, slamming the phone back into its cradle.

As I was sitting in my office one day, I discussed with myself a very important question: yes or no? Every Fuhrer had a secretary. I don't think it's the best of ideas to make Lt. Hawkeye my secretary. Although she'd be near me, I have my own reasons why it wouldn't be the same. On the other hand, she would be close by. And then I had an epiphany. I'll make her the Fuhrer's assistant! There's nothing wrong with that, is there? I answered myself: Nope. Anyone who knows me also knows I tend to slack off just a little. What's wrong with having someone there to keep me in line?

I phoned the section of the building she was currently working at. When I asked the answerer to fetch her, she was summoned. "Yes, General?" Hawkeye asked expectantly.

"First Lt. Riza Hawkeye," I answered seriously, "you are now the official Assistant of the Fuhrer. I'm not giving you an option. Now please come here."

I hung up and waited. When she came in, I bade her to write her signature on the official document.

"Sir, this is a blank piece of paper," she said, eyeing me suspiciously.

"You're right," I agreed, faking surprise, "You'd better find someone who can help."

She sighed in exasperation and left on the mission. Meanwhile, I wrote out the following lines:

I, FUHRER PRESIDENT ROY MUSTANG, HEREBY DECLARE THE UNDERSIGNED IS BOTH MY PERSONAL ASSISTANT AND ADVISOR.

Short, simple, and to the point.

Hawkeye returned with a prudent woman by the name of 2nd Lt. Maria Ross. I explained that I only needed Riza's signature.

"But I guess you can be the overseer or whatever of this," I said, turning to Ross.

The two women exchanged glances. Hawkeye gave me a curious glance, and then wrote out a surprisingly unclean signature.

"Welcome to the job!" I cried.

"Well, what will I have to do, sir?" Hawkeye inquired.

"You know, the usual. You've always been my counselor, and you certainly have been there to keep me on task."

"But Col—I mean General—sorry, sir—this is different. You're the leader of the military now. Don't you think it should be run by you?"

"I'm asking you to help me like you always have. I trust your judgment. I like to hear your opinions." I remember Ross was there. I dismissed her.

I wasn't going to get my point across this way. "Let's go for a walk, Riza," I suggested. She looked over at some documents and files I had been studying but seemed to decide against urging me to finish what I started.

"Alright," she consented, "but you might as well let me take Black Hayate with us." It turned out that her black-and-white dog had been waiting patiently in the hall.

Contrary to my earlier plans, we talked little. Despite that, it was very comforting just to be with her. We went around the city and into the park. When I grew tired I didn't say anything about it to Riza. Our time together was too nice to be spoiled.Suddenly, I stumbled and fell. I couldn't get up. "Sorry," I said sheepishly, "I guess we've gone too far."

Riza sighed and helped me onto a nearby park bench. We sat there, again not speaking. The Lieutenant allowed her dog to roam around on his own.

"You did a good job with that dog," I said.

"I told you I would be strict," she replied.

A pause. Then I ventured to explain myself.

"You know," I began,"…there is a reason I…" Why do I struggle?

"Um…," I tried again, "…Lt. Hawkeye…"

"You don't have to say anything, sir."

"…?" I looked at her, surprised.

"I think I know what you are trying to say."

Instinctively, but not purposely, I shot back, "I don't miss you if that's what you think! I just need help with…stuff!"

"I understand, sir. Of course I'll help you. Do you want to leave soon? It's getting late."

I muttered about not being able to walk, causing her to say what? I can't hear you, sir, and I said out loud, "I'll try it."

I endured the strenuous walk out of the park, but upon reaching the gate I collapsed again. Hawkeye offered me her shoulder, which I leaned on gratefully.

I was damp with sweat by the time we reached my place of residence. In addition, I was slightly light-headed. I remember sinking onto the couch, and my companion mentioning making tea, but after that I don't remember anything.

I opened my eye and tried to recollect what happened. I must have fainted, I thought, examining the room and coming to the conclusion that it was evening. There were lights on, which meant someone else had turned them on.

"Hello?" I called. My voice was hoarse.

"I'll be there in a minute," a replier called back. Hawkeye was still here.

She came as she had claimed. She placed a cup of what looked like tea on the coffee table next to the couch.

"You fainted," she said quietly, "from exhaustion."

"Mm."

"You know you still have to take it easy, sir."

"It was just a walk. It wasn't taxing."

"You were sweating and even while you slept you were breathing hard."

"I don't need to hear you antagonizing my actions, Lieutenant."

"Don't get cross with me, sir." She sounded tense. Something was coming.

She went on: "If you keep doing small things like this, it'll accumulate and do you know what will happen? You'll get a heart attack and die! Or you could get a stroke." (Author: I swear I read that in research. If it's not true, please tell me! And you have to consider the hospitals they have in the almost-1920s. And if you are AP biology student like me, you'll know why this is possible.)

"Riza…" This was about protection, I knew it. What makes her so concerned for me? But I was somewhat taken aback at what she said. "How did you learn that?" I asked.

"The doctors" was the somber answer.

"Riza…I--" Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to say I'm sorry but I miss you. I was almost annoyed at how sappy this was, but I guess I can't deny emotions. I decided to change the atmosphere.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I invited.

Author: okay this is definitely my LEAST favorite chapter. when i was writing it, i kept getting stuck.The emotions, i don'tdo a good job ofgetting them across! I really want to know whether this is bad or good, pleasetell me!I pratically hate this section of the story! but it gets better.

The next section you might have to wait a bit for. i don't have it written down. I have this story in a journal, and i've been typing it from there. but I haven't written the next part. Yay! School is almost out! I have had a lot of tests, that's why it takes me some time to get the next chapter in.