Our Dreaming Goal


Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

I don't even know who he is anymore. He won't speak or try to talk to me anymore. It's like all we've been through never happened.

General Roy Mustang is no longer the man I thought he was. After Ed and Al left this world, a little bit of Roy left with them. Those boys were like sons to him and without them, he was alone.

I guess he forgot about me and my promise to protect him.

I walk into his office with more papers in my hands. I place them beside the others that have yet to be completed.

"More papers?" Roy asks from behind his chair.

"Yes sir. You better get to work," I reply.

I turn to leave, but he stops me.

"I'm sorry…Hawkeye," He says.

"For what sir?" I ask. I have to be sure what he is sorry for.

"For…for everything," He replies as tears cloud my vision. "I promise that you and I will be together. I just need you to trust me."

I nod and walk to my desk and begin to read papers and sign them.

I look over to Roy and find him walking over to my desk with a handkerchief. He begins to wipe the tears that are cascading down my cheeks. I blush a bit as his hand makes contact with my skin. This is very inappropriate. We cannot be close. It is against the rules, but somehow, I don't flinch or pull away.

This is my dream. Our dream. To be close and not feel guilty. To be able to show our love without hiding.

But I suppose that this dream will never be, because as soon as the phone rings, Roy is back at his desk answering it.

I look back down and find the handkerchief. I take it and place it in my pocket along with my dreams.

The pleasure of dreams is that they are not real, a desire, a fantasy. If they ever came true, they were never dreams at all.

So I suppose that this dream isn't a dream, but a goal. I know that it will come true and I somehow know that it will fail. That doesn't make much sense, but it makes perfect sense to me.

I look back to Roy and he looks back to me. He winks and then continues his conversation.

I close my eyes and feel the handkerchief in my pocket.

Yes, it is a goal. Our goal. Our dreaming goal.

The End