Hi guys. It's been like years since I've been on here. Sorry if you weren't waiting for this. I had to write a paper for English the other day with 10 of my favorite vocabulary words, and I just happened to pick diseases. So I thought let's write a war story! And this popped out. It took me 4 hours! And then he wasn't there to look at it after all my had work! Oh, well. I really like it. It's definitely my favorite.

Like it says above and when you clicked on it, this is a Fullmetal Alchemist one and is my first try with this. It's yoai, so if you don't like, either don't read it, or pretend it's not there. I can't say what the pairing is without ruining it, but you all probably figured it out by now. It takes place a bit after the movie and Ed's back, somehow. Don't know how, or if I'll ever know. If I feel really up to it, I'll write a separate story like this, but I would need a lot of persuading to do that. I hope you enjoy!

Unfortunately, I don't own anything except this plot.

Reviews are ultra welcome! Even flames! I need critique! (cookies to those who can guess my vocabulary words!)

*Edit* I just got this back from my teacher. Got a B. He was appalled at how long it was. lol. So I'm correcting what he corrected on my paper.

Remembering

First he heard groans. Pained groans, tired groans, annoyed groans, agonized groans. Where the hell am I? he wondered. I can't… remember…

He then smelled antiseptic. This must be a hospital, he realized with detest. The hate of hospitals came as a reflex, confusing him. Who the hell am I?

After a few moments of crazed thoughts, he finally registered what he was feeling. He was lying down on what was apparently a very lumpy bed with his torso propped up with just as lumpy pillows. His right leg itched like hell and felt oddly bulky, but none over came the warm feeling of his hand encased in someone else's own.

He clinched his eyes in bewilderment, the hand clinching in response. He had to remember this person before he opened his eyes. He was close to this person; why else would this person be holding his hand and watching him closely enough to know when he moved the slightest. He forced himself to relax, drifting off into a fake slumber. The hand relaxed slightly and he felt another hand cup his cheek. Oh, crap, I have to remember this person NOW!

He tried to think of the last thing he could remember. He had been on a ship, missing his usual blue attire. He remembered someone teasing him about how odd he looked without the uniform.

XxXxXxX

"Oh, so I look funny without the uniform, huh?" he teased. The other voice chuckled in front of him and he wrapped his arms around the figure.

"Pervert," the beautiful voice responded.

He chuckled back and set his chin on the other's shoulder. Blonde hair tickled his nose, sending the smell of cream through his mind to try and jumble his thoughts.

"If you hate milk so much," he wondered aloud, "then why do you insist on always having cream shampoo?"

XxXxXxX

His memory jumped to hacking through the forest with the same figure next to him. For some odd reason the face was blurred, but he could tell now this person was a man. In fact, he was a very well muscled man about an inch or two shorter than he, with long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and bangs framing his face. Who is this man?

A short while later, the trees started to thin and he heard moans coming from somewhere near. He slung his machete harder and faster, feeling relieved that he was both almost done with this mission and they were not too late. Information started pouring into his head of its own accord.

There was a grouping of soldiers trapped in the middle of the forest with salmonella and hepatitis. They had entered a village to talk to the chief about murders caused by some of the younger members in his tribe. That done, they headed out of the village. A few days later, not two miles from the edge of the trees, they became so weak they could not walk straight, much less chop their way through weeds and branches. They radioed for help and his team gathered a doctor and a phlebotomistand headed out. Why they needed a general and his team to rescue them, he had no idea. President Hakuro was acting a little stranger lately. He could not remember if he knew why or not.

"General Mustang?" He looked up to see a young man with dark brown hair holding a mask. That must be my name. "The diseases could still be airborne. We need to start wearing masks to be sure we don't catch anything."

"But we can't get salmonella and hepatitis from airborne pathogens." The blonde man snickered at his response. Apparently, he found it enjoyable when he showed off his knowledge. "We don't know if they have more diseases or not."

The blonde giggled again as Mustang took the mask and turned around to see what was so funny. It seemed as if he was fighting a full-on laughing fit.

XxXxXxX

They walked into the bivouacked group of sickly soldiers just as dusk was starting to settle. Mustang ordered the doctor and phlebotomist to "just do whatever you do," and stood with his team at the edge of the small, man-made clearing. His squad only consisted of him, the blonde and a woman with blonde hair as well. She was wearing a thick hiking outfit and carried a pistol at her side and a rifle slung across her back. Hawkeye, that was her name, Riza Hawkeye. How can I remember her name and not mine or this man's?"

In the center of the clearing, the two doctors were checking over their patients. Everything was calm and quiet. Mustang suddenly felt wary and glanced to ward Hawkeye. Instantly she understood and turned to the tallest tree near the edge of the glade and started climbing. Once she got to the last steady branch as high as she could go, she repositioned the rifle to look through its starlight scope.

"What is she doing?" asked the doctor.

"Checking to make sure we're safe. We both agree it's too quiet here."

"That's probably the disease's fault. Animals tend to avoid life-threatening situations such as this."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to check."

XxXxXxX

"The man over there with jaundice has hepatitis and the two over here have salmonella. The one with all the darns is a little apoplectic. Last, but not least, this paranoid guy wearing the armor had something come through his gussets and give him malaria. They are all minor cases, though, and once we get them to a hospital with a little more meds, they should be fine."

"Excellent. It's too late to leave now, so get a sleeping bag and get the rest you deserve."

"Yes, sir." The brown haired man saluted. "Thank you."

Mustang saluted back. "Dismissed." The man walked away and the general went to sit on a stump nearby.

"Suck-up," the musical voice chimed. Mustang smiled; it was turning out to be a fine night indeed.

XxXxXxX

The next day, they all made it to the ship, each person helping one of the invalids. By noon, they were two hours away from Central, the capital city of their country. Mustang was reading a book in his cabin, the blonde man up on the bow. He was just getting to the good part when there was a giant BOOM!, and he felt a shudder go through his room. He got out to the deck in thirty seconds flat, probably setting a record, and ran straight to where the explosion had sounded.

Naturally, a panic was spreading through the crew and Mustang immediately took charge. A torpedo had exploded on the reef next to the starboard side of the ship, cracking the hull and causing a fatal leak. Mustang got most of the crew to go down and patch up what they could. He knew they would not be able to save the ship, but they needed to get the sick soldiers to the Central Hospital as soon as possible, and that meant keeping the ship above the water until help arrived.

XxXxXxX

Another torpedo had hit. Luckily it was the reef again and not the ship itself. Hawkeye was on the roof of the captain's quarters, aiming a rocket launcher at the enemy vessel about three miles starboard. Pulling the trigger, she got a direct bulls-eye, but not before the others sent one more torpedo to the side of the reef, causing Mustang to lose his footing and fall overboard.

"Roy!"

XxXxXxX

Suddenly, Roy remembered everything. He was General Roy Mustang, the once-lady's man and heartthrob of Central and one step away from becoming President of Amestris. He had fallen off the ship among all the flotsam and jetsam from the battle earlier and must have bumped his head on the reef that had just saved all their lives just moments before. But who cares about that, where's…

He shifted in the bed and the hand around his tightened once more. Blearily, he opened his eyes and looked toward the owner of the hand that was clasping his so fiercely. Molten gold eyes met his dark onyx ones, full of relief and love. The golden haired man's face was clear at

last, his beauty clear in Roy's blurry and sleep deprived eyes.

"Edward."