Thanks to BlueandOrangeRoses and Sense Marauder for letting me into their now 3-way War of Depression and Horror.

This is another entry, in return to BlueandOrangeRoses's "Together". HA. Actually, they are both amazing authors, so check them out!

This is a song fic, based on the song Whiskey Lullaby by Alison Krauss. Lolz. Country music.

R/R and this actually wasn't as depressing as I wanted it to be.. Actually, this was my 3rd idea, so... Yeah. Not too happy with it. T-T

Woot go competition! (~^-^)~

Oh and the first part is narrated by Roy Mustang, and the second part by Riza Hawkeye. Trust me. You'll know when the POV changes.

She put him out… like the burning end of a midnight cigarette. She broke his heart… He spent his whole life trying to forget…

The war with the Homunculi had only recently ended, and I felt as though, I could finally be honest. I went to Riza, Riza Hawkeye, and finally confessed my love to her. I never would have, if I'd known what she would have said.

She just looked at me for a second, but then she said, "I'm sorry, Colonel, but I don't feel for you like that."

By not telling her, I'd been able to live my life imagining that we felt the same way about each other. I'd really fooled myself. It hurt so much, more than a regular break up should. Why did it hurt? Why, when we'd never even dated?

We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time.

That night, was the first night I'd ever truly gotten drunk. I'd drank alcohol before, but I'd always stopped once my head went fuzzy. Fuzzy wouldn't work now. I wanted to forget everything.

I don't remember much, just that I cried and yelled at nothing in the house. I later felt glad that I'd locked my gloves away before drinking, because without them I'd still trashed the house.

Every night I'd drink, just to erase the memories.

But he never could get drunk enough, to get her off his mind. Until the night… He put that bottle to his head, and pulled the trigger. He finally drank away her memory. Life is short, but this time it was bigger… than the strength he had to get up off his knees.

It never worked, the drinking. And by and by, I needed more and more alcohol to get drunk, so it was so much harder to forget.

It was the last night. I for once had forgotten to lock away my gloves. In a drunken stupor, I walked over to where they were on my desk, and pulled them out. I snapped, and the spark reacted with the alcohol in my body, going off like a bomb. And then, I finally drank away the memories of when I thought she loved me.

We found him with his face down in the pillow… with a note that said I loved her till I died. And when we buried him beneath the willow… the angels sang a whiskey lullaby. La la la la la la la….

It was Major Armstrong who found him. When Roy didn't go to work, he'd gone to check up on the dedicated, younger man. He found the Flame Alchemist in his private office, fallen to the ground, where a lone cushion from one of the plush chairs had covered his face. There was also a note on the desk, written awkwardly and lopsidedly, like a child or drunken man had written it. It said, I loved her till I died.

Roy Mustang's funeral was a quiet, military affair. He got a good send-off, and was raised by 2 ranks, though he never did get to Fuhrer. He died, and was buried beneath a willow tree.

As his casket was lowered, everyone could swear they heard the murmurs of a lullaby, as though sung by a ghost, or an angel.

The rumors flew. But nobody knew how much she blamed herself.

As they always did in the military, rumors started to fly around about Roy's death. They all said it was because of me, that Roy committed suicide because he loved me, and I turned him down.

Idiot.

Couldn't he see that I'd done it for him? There's not supposed to be affairs within two officers, and I couldn't risk getting him into trouble. I loved him, yes, but I didn't want him to lose his job! Not after he was trying so hard to be Fuhrer. I would have told him later, but I wanted him to have time to get his affairs in order. Why did no one tell me he was drinking? It's all my fault.

For years and years… she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath.

I started drinking, too. At first, I just wanted to feel him closer. When I was drunk, it was like he was still with me. Once I was sober, I was alone.

I had to go to work, drunk, once. That was so hard, because I had to hide the whiskey on my breath.

But she never could get drunk enough, to get him off her mind… until the night… she put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger. And finally drank away his memory. Life is short, but this time it was bigger, than the strength she had to get up off her knees.

Deep down, I knew that my time was coming. It was evident. No matter how drunk I was, I couldn't forget Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, my superior officer… my one and only love.

That last day, I knew it was time. I didn't even take off my suit when I got home, not even the gun holster. Not even the gun itself. Why, why would I do that when I needed it?

I drank until I was in a stupor. Until I had the courage to do what I needed to.

I was on my bed, sitting on my knees, and holding a photo of Roy close to me. It was me, Roy, and Hughes back when we were fighting in Ishval. All of us. I was joining them soon.

I brought the gun out of its holster, and put it against the roof of my mouth. Then, I pulled the trigger.

We found her with her face down in the pillow… clinging to his picture for dear life. We laid her next to him beneath the willow. While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby. La la la la la la la….

This time, it was Ed who found the victim of suicide. He'd gone over to ask her some questions, but found the awful sight of her dead, facedown in her pillow, clutching an old picture of her, Roy, and Hughes.

The funeral was still small, but not much of the military came, as she'd resigned, the same day as she killed herself. The only ones who came were those who had worked alongside her and Roy, along with Major Armstrong and Ed and Al, of course.

She was buried right next to Roy, because it seemed so fitting at the time.

And, for the last time, the lullaby, the strange, eerie lullaby, played once more.