AN: Hey everyone, yes - I'm alive. Which is why I'm posting a new story. I'm not done with the others, but I needed a break and have been writing my own story for the past few months. Thank you all for reading this and sticking with me when I've been gone for so long. I thank my betas: Erudito and NightmareWorld, who have helped me by motivating me and making sure my grammar isn't lost in the many words I write. This might be confusing at first, but it gets better, trust me. Updates however are unknown, it depends on how many people like it, and give comments that could keep me going. Without further ado, Mind's Eye.

The sun beat down upon the wide open hills and endless waves of corn, its hulking presence dominating the barren blue sky. Deep in the open countryside of the southeast, summer had scorched the land, wilting crops and running creeks dry. The chill of autumn had never seemed further away.

It was early morning, and the temperature was already ninety-three degrees outside. Everyone in their right mind had long ago fled indoors, away from the blazing sun that threatened to ignite fires and turn the countryside a brittle brown. Only an oak, the sole tree throughout these hundreds of acres of farmland, stood tall against the heat. A way up the road from the tree stood a small house.

The tree was towering, bark peeling in several places, hinting that it was coming to the end of its years. The branches were tangled with one another, their leaves forming a barrier from the sun. A pool of shade lay at the base of the tree.

And sprawling on the split grass within the cool shade was a crazy person willing to challenge the sun at the height of its power. The person was a boy who appeared to be about seven years old, though this was an uncertain estimate because he was lying down, with his arm covering his face.

His hair was a goldenrod color, tied back into a braid and his skin sickly pale, despite the sun's attempt to change that. The boy was wearing black pants with a black sweatshirt. His hands were covered in black leather gloves. The boy obviously wasn't prepared for the freaky heat wave that crept up. Or he was just stupid, and wanted to die of heat stroke. He appeared to be asleep, not moving at all; even his breath was too shallow. Slow enough to make it look like he wasn't taking in any air at all.

He might be dead. It could be fairly possible, with the heat and all. The slightest amount of breeze came and went. And the boy finally took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. Too happy that there was a slight breeze in the first place, however, the breeze did not last long. The boy let out a long sigh, and tore his arm away from his face.

He had golden eyes to match his hair. They had a small look in them, some might say it were ignorance, others straight stubbornness, yet in all of that jumbled mess was a hint of fear.

The boy blinked and groaned, while cursing under his breath. "Fuckin' hot, damn bastard," the small boy mumbled as he slowly sat up. Glancing at his surroundings, expecting something to jump out and attack him, though nothing did. He sighed once more, and stood on his feet. Stretching his arms above his head, satisfied when he heard a few pops. He continued with rolling his shoulders while his eyes landed on the small house, the only one for miles.

His face turned into a deep scowl as he stopped rolling his hurt shoulders. Walking in the direction of the small house he kept his head down and watched his feet crush the healthy green grass beneath him.

He didn't let his eyes linger from the ground until he got to the steps of the house. He went up the three steps with little to no difficulty. There was a man sitting on the swing reading a newspaper.
He had short black hair, and he looked well fit. Not any bulging muscles, but not scrawny like the kid in front of him looked like. The man sighed as the kid sat on the porch stairs, furthest away from him.

"Come here to apologize," the man said as he turned the page.

The boy just scoffed while glaring at the ground. "You should be the one apologizing, not me," he justified.

The man held back another sigh as he said, "You know quite well that you are the one who should be saying sorry. I already have."

"I did nothing wrong, but you did."

"Edward, you know what you did was unacceptable. That was one of the rules that I asked you not to break. And you broke it already and only two days into this," the man said as he shook his head in disappointment.

Edward kept sitting there, staring out into the countryside. He took a breath and started speaking again, "I did what I had to do, Mustang, keep out of it."

Mustang folded his paper up and set it off to the side. He needed to focus on what he was saying, he needed to make Ed understand what he did was not going to be tolerated. "Ed, your business is now my business. So there is no 'keep out of it' as you put. And we had a talk over the rules, and you agreed that they were tolerable, and that you wouldn't break any of them. And you lied."

Edward ground his teeth together, trying to stay as calm as he could. However every part of his being wanted to punch Mustang into next week. "My business is my own. And I didn't lie," he said, not going into any details. Afraid if he did so, then he would get even more upset and start yelling. Then punch Mustang. Though it was not certain on which one would come first.

"Well when you put other people's lives on the line, it becomes their business -" he was cut off by the angered child before him.

"I never asked you guys to help. I am not in the military anymore, so therefore it is not your problem."

"Ed," Mustang said with a hint of worry on the name. "When you showed up the way you did, do you expect us to watch you struggle? We are your friends, and we want exactly what you -"

He got interrupted once again. "I am not struggling."

Mustang just ignored that little comment and continued with what he was going to say. "Just, be patient."

Ed just turned and glared at Roy. "Patience. You want me to be patient, how the hell can I be patient when you won't let me help?"

"Ed, we told you to let us handle everything, and you wouldn't have to worry about it."

"You expect me to not be worried after what happened?" Ed questioned him.

"No, but we would appreciate it if you followed the rules."

"I didn't break any of your damn rules," Ed said as he turned his attention to the long stretch of road.

"Yes you did. Rule number two: no telephone unless it's an emergency," Roy told him.

"It was an emergency," Ed said, his voice was distant, as if he were thinking of something else.

"Riza told me why you called. And seeing how the investigation is going is not an emergency."

"Yeah, well, to me it is. And what happened if there really was an emergency, we are hundreds of miles away from anyone who would help us. Who's to say they would get here on time?"

"Nothing, however I trust my men. You should too." Roy sighed, knowing what he was about to say to Ed would not make him happy. "Ed, you can't just call Central whenever you feel like it."

"You want to bet, old man," Edward grumbled at him.

"No, I don't want to bet anything. Edward, this is serious, the phone could be tapped. So promise me you won't use the phone, unless it is important. Also try not to break any of the rules," Mustang clarified any confusion as to the use of the telephone. Before stating, "And I am not old."

"Well maybe the military should make a better safe house, why even have the phone if it could easily be tapped?" Ed asked as he ran a finger on the wood next to him, tracing a fine grain with his gloved hand. "And you can't deny it, Mustang, you are getting up there."

"Well, like I said at least ten times before, in case of an emergency -"

Ed waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know the protocol for the phone service in the military," Ed interrupted him. "It pisses me off that I'm sitting here when I could be out there finding him," he whispered as he glanced up at the horizon, looking at the sky that slowly blended in with the growth of the grass.

Mustang sighed once again and turned the page in the newspaper. "Give us some time. We still have no idea of general location of where you guys were. Not to mention it's taking its toll on my men."

"Yeah, well, if you guys let me help, I could research, or remember an important detail. Or, or…do something besides sit on my ass all day," Ed said with his hands moving in a weird formation. "And I'm sure two and a half months is enough time. You guys should have found something already."

"Riza told you as soon as they found something that you could help with, they would call. However it might be awhile, I mean with the way that things happened, we need to know for sure. Plus these guys are proving to be difficult to find, they think like -"

"Psychopaths? Yeah, I know I spent half a month with them," he grumbled. 'And who knows what they're doing to Al right now, which is if he's still alive.' he thought. Shaking his head, he focused on something else. Glancing up towards Mustang he said, "Maybe you should get a new team, they're falling behind."

"Not everyone is a research genius like you are, Ed. Also I didn't kick you out when you messed up, or caused us hundreds in destruction."

"Hey!" Ed yelled. "Not all of that was my fault; I told you it was a huge misunderstanding... but why did you hire them if they don't know what they're doing?"

"Sure, it was all an accident." Roy ignored the curses coming from the boy in front of him, and continued. "You know as well as anyone else that I don't hire the people on my team. They are new, and adjusting to the lifestyle of the military."

"What about me?" Ed questioned with a smirk on his face, knowing the answer.

"Don't be a smart ass," Roy replied shortly while he scanned the headlines for something interesting.

"Yeah, whatever." Ed put his arms on his knees and sat his head upon them.

They sat in silence for a long while. Ed kept his head down and Mustang read his newspaper. The silence stretched through the air as if waiting for an attack. And the attack came from Ed, though it was more of a gesture instead of an attack.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," Ed mumbled as he glanced down the long stretch of road. "But you have to admit, it was your fault."

"Right, so it's my fault that you stormed out after I yelled at you. And I closed the door, which just so happened to be locked, thus this is entirely my fault," Mustang said sarcastically.

"Yes it is," Ed said as he glanced at an ant strolling through the dirt. "I never asked you to come after me, and the least you could have done was grab the key; oh smart one."

"Ed, I'm not going to fight over it. What's done is done, now let's move on."

"Right and we can start by busting down the door, because it's fuckin hot out," Ed said as he stood up and made a move towards the door. He was about to clap his hands together, the equation clear in his mind, but a hand stopped him.

Ed turned to scowl at Mustang. And he roughly shook him off, and took a step away.

"Ed, don't, that was again another rule. And if you broke this one it would be much more dangerous than the telephone call. I'm sorry but you just can't," Mustang told him as he slowly shook his head.

Ed shook his head, "So what the hell can I do?"

"Wait. Someone should be up here tonight to check up on how we're doing. And they should have some news on the case," Mustang told him.

"Great, so we sit here and bake, waiting for someone to come. But I swear if they don't have anything good, they can sleep outside," Ed said as he sat down on the deck.

Mustang sighed, "They will take your bed, and you can crash on the couch." He held a hand up, stopping the outburst that was about to occur, and continued. "And as far as I know it could be someone new. Meaning they know nothing about you, and certainly about what happened a few months ago. So in slow terms it means you have to act your apparent short age."

"I'll have you know I am a LOT taller than the first time I was seven," Ed demanded, and then mumbled, "Or however old I am. And I'll act how I want to act. Just don't blame me when the newbie doesn't know anything and gets outsmarted by a child. Do any of your new recruits know any alchemy?"

"That is exactly why you need to act your appearance instead of nineteen. It would save trouble in the end of explaining things that are better left unsaid. And no, none of them know of any alchemy, all the more reason to act as if you have no idea what we are talking about."

"You can't be serious," Ed glared at Mustang. "There is absolutely no way I am going to seem as if alchemy confuses me, that is the whole case, how am I supposed to help?"

"That's the thing; you are supposed to be relaxing. Not fretting on whether or not we are a step closer."

Ed rubbed his face with his hand, but took it off immediately. He sighed before saying, "No promises but I will try to act my age. However I started studying alchemy as soon as I could read, so why not let me do some research or something small like that?"

Mustang glanced at him, before finishing yet another article, "I'm sorry Ed, but you can't. You are supposed to be a nobody, not the tie to the case. I know you're anxious to get out there and look, but give it more time. We will find something eventually," he told Ed.

Ed groaned and fell back on the deck. "God, Mustang, you trying to kill me?"

"No, I'm saving you time on all those endless leads you were sent on. It's about time you relaxed, don't you think?"

"No, no I don't."

"Why don't you take off your gloves, and wear shorts for once? It's not as if I haven't seen them before," Mustang commented. Referring to the metal limbs Edward had.

"I just don't feel right...and it's no use getting comfortable when someone is coming up here soon. You said it yourself that I was supposed to lay low, and I am," Ed told him as he stared at the clouds above them. "Just leave me alone for a moment, Mustang, I need to think."