Chapter Text
Discharged from the hospital and returned to duty, but there was nothing normal about it.
Only a few weeks had passed since the madness in the tunnels beneath Central. And now Hawkeye sat at her desk watching Mustang's back, as she had done for so many years, as she thought to do for many more. He reclined in his chair, facing the wide office window and the skyline of Central spread out beyond. There was talk of promotions and new assignments. It was still hard to see the future after the events of the Promised Day.
Hawkeye looked up at the sound of a tap on the doorway.
“Excuse me, Ma’am.”
A young Corporal skittishly held out an envelope towards her.
“I have a letter for the Colonel.”
“Very well. I’ll see that he gets it,” she said as he handed her the letter.
Mustang turned as he heard Hawkeye walk over to his desk.
“Letter for you, sir.”
He extended his hand. A sharp, narrow ridge of scar tissue crossed his palm, the scars from Bradley’s sword only just beginning to fade.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said as he turned the envelope over in his hands. His fingers ran along the crisp edges. He felt the impression of the Amestrian Military Crest where the stamp and pressed it into the paper. But instead of the indentations of the typewriter key strikes, it was addressed by hand.
“Hum, I was expecting something more official.”
Deftly he lifted the corner of the flap and tore open the envelope. He took out the single folded sheet of paper and handed it back to Hawkeye.
“What’s the news, Lieutenant?”
Hawkeye unfolded the letter and scanned the contents.
Mustang could tell from her sigh the unsurprising contents of the letter.
“It’s from Grumman,” she said.
“Hum, nice of the old man to get in touch directly,” mused Mustang.
“Dear Roy,” Hawkeye began,
As a courtesy to you, I wanted to tell you before the official documentation is sent, that you’re to be promoted to the rank of Brigadier General prior to your honourable discharge on medical grounds. You will receive all the benefits on discharge due to that rank.
As you can appreciate your current state makes you next to useless to the military and knowing you as I do, I can’t see that you would want to remain with the Military in a non-combatant alchemist capacity.
Hawkeye is also to receive a promotion. She will be offered the rank of Captain. I would suggest she hold off tendering her resignation, as I’m sure she will, until that new commission comes into effect. Then she also will be eligible for the benefits offered by the higher rank.
You two will need all the assets you can muster, and even though you’re not going to be in the military, I expect to still have you tugging at my heels for the leadership of this nation.
Yours most sincerely,
Grumman.
(Fuhrer Elect)
Mustang turned his slate grey eyes to look directly toward Hawkeye. She could still see the determination there, burning as fiercely as ever. His sight taken by Truth wouldn’t lessen his vision. Her hand curled around the letter in her hand as she felt her own resolve to work for a better future, to work with him, strengthen.
“Well, Lieutenant,” he asked, “what’s it to be? I’ll no longer be your commanding officer. I can’t assign you to any task.”
Hawkeye smiled her small smile, equal parts admiration and admonition, “When do you suppose, sir, that my commitment to follow you was in any way dependant upon your rank?”
Discharged from duty, and returned to the world, and there was every possibility about it.