This is a crack-ish fic in which I pretty much do what I want and recount the events of FMA:B from the surprisingly bitter perspective of the true hero of the show, Black Hayate. He's a cinnamon roll, too good for the FMA world, too pure - but he's also probably a little bit salty.

Prologue - doesn't take place at any specific point within canon.

Through the Eye of a Hurricane

Prologue:

The moment he had drained the last drop from his wine glass, Roy unwound his arm from its position around Riza's shoulder. His joints popped as he stood; they'd been sitting together for over an hour, just enjoying each other's company.

"I'm getting another glass. Want me to top yours off?" He glanced at his companion, who wasn't quite done with her wine, yet.

"Please do." She ran her hand through her bangs and looked at him with sleepy, hooded eyes. God, he loved when she looked at him like that.

He turned away, walking to the kitchen to fetch the bottle of wine. He picked it up hastily, hoping to return to Riza's side as quickly as possible. It was early in the evening, still, and he had plans.

Roy could tell that something was awry the moment he returned to the living room. His eyes fell to the space on the couch he had vacated just seconds before, once more occupied. Black Hayate stared back at Roy, his mouth in that stupid shiba expression that made him always look like he was smiling, clearly basking in the petting Riza was giving him.

"Dog, you're in my spot."

Riza chuckled at him. "Technically, it is Hayate's spot. Just sit in the armchair, for now."

Roy continued to glare at the dog as he plopped down in the armchair, a good two feet away from the woman he wished to wrap himself around. The dog, however, didn't seem to notice his discontent, tilting his furry head as his mother scratched his ears.

After a few minutes of silence, the phone rang. Though it was closer in position to Roy, Riza's reflexes were much quicker, and she had answered it before the first ring had even finished.

"Hello?"

Roy could very distinctly hear the shrill voice on the other end, one Rebecca Catalina, pleading for Riza's opinion on what she should wear on a date tonight. Roy had heard through the grapevine that Maria Ross had set her up with Denny Brosh; his own team had already put down bets on how it would go. Riza, who declined from betting, was optimistic, but Breda didn't seem to think they'd make it through the entire date.

Before he knew it, Riza had hung up and was gathering her keys and coat. "Rebecca lives just down the street; this shouldn't take more than a few minutes. Watch Hayate for me?"

Roy nodded, again looking at the dog, who had perked his head up upon noticing Riza was going somewhere. With a quick kiss to the cheek, Riza headed off to help her friend in peril.

Hayate, needless to say, was immensely confused as to why Riza was gone but Roy had remained. After a few minutes of staring at the door through which Riza had left, he turned his head to stare at Roy. Roy leaned back and ran his hand through his hair.

"Dog, we need to talk."

Hayate titled his head, clearly listening.

"I know you love Riza. But I love her too, and I need just as much of her attention as you do."

Hayate blinked.

"Good, you understand. I'm probably going to be around here pretty often now, since we started being intimate. And I appreciate all you've done to protect her over the course of our adventures. But this seat stealing? It ends here."

Hayate blinked again. Roy nodded.

"That settles it." He stood and scooped Hayate up in his arms. The dog had put on a decent amount of weight since the last time Roy had held him, when he was a puppy. Roy set the dog down in the armchair, reclaiming his spot on the couch. "From now on, dog, this is my spot. Got it?"

Hayate sniffed around his new spot on the armchair before eventually plopping his head down on the armrest and falling asleep. Roy leaned over and patted his head. "Good dog."

I waited, curled up on my mother's bed, and watched her and the familiar man through the doorway. That dark-haired asshole couldn't sit there forever.

Finally. The second the man stood, I bolted to my mother's side, reclaiming the spot on the couch were I spent most of my time. I suppose I could thank him that it was now warm, but that wasn't what was important. What was important was that my mother was once again paying attention to me, as she should.

I could see the shocked look on the man's face when he returned to find me in my seat. Serves him right for trying to take it in the first place. I also noted that he had gone to the kitchen, but had neglected to bring any food back for me. Strike two.

I only jumped a little when the thing on the table rang, and before I knew it, my mother was leaving me. I perked my ears up at the sound of her keys, confused as to why the man wasn't making any moves to go with her. Was she abandoning me with him? With this asshole who, upon meeting me in my youth, swung me around the room with reckless abandon? How could she? But she did.

A few centuries after she left, the man began talking. I stared at him - he had clearly lost it. Hadn't he seen her leave? Who was he talking to? He looked at me. Oh. What a fucking idiot. He was talking to me as if I understood what he was saying. I blinked a few times, incredulous. He seemed to take this as a response, and kept talking. The hell, man?

Suddenly, I was air-born. The man had picked me up - I was reliving both the best and worst day of my puppyhood, right then. I prayed that my mother would soon swoop in to save me as she once had. She didn't, and I found myself in the armchair. I sniffed the cushion - it smelled as my mother's clothing did when she came home each night. He was staring at me again - I was in no position to retaliate. Resigned, I dropped my head. Perhaps sleep would bring my mother back sooner.

The moment I heard her keys in the door, I bolted up and ran to greet her. She said something as I darted between her legs, and I caught my name amongst her words. But just as she had come, she was gone again, along with the man. A quick survey of the room revealed to me that they had disappeared behind her bedroom door. I lightly pawed at the door. Excuse me? You forgot someone? The most important member of this household? They didn't seem to hear me. Humans and their deafness.

I rested on the floor and stuck my nose to the crack beneath it; there were some strange smells wafting out of there. Their low murmurs from within tickled my ears, but the murmurs were soon replaced with grunts. Then cries. Cries? My mother was crying and yelling from within. I bolted upright and began furiously pawing at the door. I was going to kill that asshole the moment I got in there. How dare he hurt her?

When my pawing failed to get results, I let out a high-pitched shriek of a howl. I repeated it two more times. The cries from within stopped.

Suddenly, the door was wrenched open, and my naked mother was glaring down at me. I immediately jumped up on her leg, licking her. Yes, she was safe. I had saved her. The jackass was defeated.

"Hayate, down!" Two words I actually knew. Wait, why was she using that tone? Why was she glaring? I had saved her, dammit! Peering between her legs, I could see the man lying still in her bed, clearly no longer a threat. He moaned something, and she briefly turned to respond to him. My attempt to venture in to further investigate was thwarted by my mother, who picked me up and carried me back to the couch.

"Sit. Stay!"

I watched her back as she returned to her bedroom, once more shutting the door behind her. The weird moans continued, but there was no more screaming. I glanced around the living room, still convinced that the jackass had hurt her, and still angry at the attention he was receiving. I spotted his polished, leather shoes by the door.

I'd show him for hurting her. First, I'd chew his fucking shoes to shreds. What choice did I have? All of my chew toys were in my mother's bedroom, currently inaccessible to me. Then, I'd pee in them.