A/N: Hello! Wow, it has been a long time since I wrote this fic originally - almost a year! And in this past year, I've had a such a great time writing, and I've improved a lot. Recently, I had to move my writing blog, and so I was looking over my old writing to repost it all.
And then I realized that I sucked a year ago.
And so here we are! I'm completely rewriting/editing this work. I have a buffer set up, so you won't have to worry about lagging updates. Apologies to anyone in the middle of reading it, however - but now you get to read a much better version. (At least I hope it is.)
This is the completely rewritten and revamped version. It follows the same plot, and I kept most of the scenes nearly the same, although I changed a lot of the writing and details, and I'm adding in a few new scenes as well! (Especially in chapter 3, for those that know what happened there previously.)
UPDATES EVERY SUNDAY
Before we begin, I would like to give a giant "THANK YOU" to my best friend, who is also my beta for this fic. Her pen name is theowlinsomniac, and she is the best editor ever, as well as my best friend. (Also, she watches SNK and ships Aruannie, and she's written an amazing fic called XX. GO CHECK IT OUT BECAUSE IT'S AMAZING.) Now, without further ado, let's begin!
Warnings for this chapter: Mild Language
Seeing the Lustful - Chapter 1
The bed felt warm. The sunlight fell through the window, setting the white sheets ablaze along their edges. The dust blew gently through the light, catching the reflection in a peaceful dance. It was peaceful, but it was also early, and it felt it.
The sheets rustled, loud against the near silence of the apartment. Riza blinked in the sudden light as it fell across her face. She stared blankly at the window, her mind empty, if just for the moment. Black Hayate snoozed at the foot of her bed, a warm weight on her feet. Riza looked down at the black fur for a second, and then looked up at the window again, still too asleep to think clearly.
"What…" she breathed quietly, her voice sticky with sleep, "is going on?"
Her eyes traveled to the clock on her bedside table. Five fifty-nine. The second hand moved rhythmically, ticking proud and tall behind the glass face.
Riza's eyes widened in realization just as the minute hand moved.
BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII—
She shot her arm out, clapping the top of the bell with her palm. The sound cut off abruptly, filling the room with silence. Her breath released a sigh as her nerves calmed. With a groan, she sat up and stretched, yawning as she blinked sleep from her eyes.
Black Hayate bounced up with a bark, and growled, looking around the room for danger. After checking every corner with his dull vision and sharp nose, he felt satisfied that the area was secure, and crawled up the bed to give Riza a happy slurp on the cheek before plopping himself next to her. He whined, as if asking for her to rest, just a little longer.
Riza chuckled at him lightly and complied, laying back down into her pillows. Over the past few years, the dog had grown large enough that she considered cutting down his food a little, if not for the pouty look that he gave her whenever she tried. She was getting soft – she resolved to herself – with the state of peace that Amestris was in.
The dog burrowed his nose into the pillow. He sneezed, bouncing back in surprise. Riza laughed and patted his head.
"Come on, you big lug. Let's get a move on."
She rolled over to the edge of the bed. A shiver passed through her body as her feet made contact with the cold floor. Wrapping her blanket around her shoulders, she stood and slowly made her way to the small kitchenette in the corner of her apartment.
She set a pot of water to boil in the kettle before shuffling to the door. The morning's paper rested on the ground. Kneeling down lightly, she picked it up.
"Right on time," she murmured to herself, smiling faintly.
She set it on the kitchen table, yawning once again as she reached for a bag of dog food from the counter. Black Hayate fetched the dog bowl, and set it before Riza, barking softly and nudging it with his wet nose. He grinned up at her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Riza smiled, and poured to fill the bowl halfway. For a moment, Hayate only stared at the food, before a long whine left his throat. He whimpered up at Riza, and his eyes blew up, large, mournful, and begging.
The woman sighed. "Fine," she muttered, dumping another cup into the bowl. "You greedy mutt." After putting the food away, she turned back to the morning's paper.
ISHVALIAN TRADING POST FINALLY OPENED TO XING
She smiled; their work was finally paying off, even after all this time.
Riza looked over the edge of the paper thoughtfully. Her eyes caught the sun and the way it fell across the table in the morning light. But even as she stared into space, the room darkened to the point of memory.
Edward Elric sat across from her, eyes fixed on the gun in Riza's hands. As he watched, she took it apart, cleaning it almost instinctively. She'd done it enough by this point. So she listened, as Edward recounted his story. He told of his reunion with Winry, and also Scar's involvement. He spoke of Winry holding the gun that Riza cleaned, angry and hurt, ready to shoot. And how he stood before her, shielding her from harm.
In her memories the exact words were blurred, but she remembered how Edward sounded. She could feel the shame on his voice, how it rolled from him in waves. And then his words reached her ears.
"…it's my fault. I've got no resolve. I only managed to make things worse."
Riza looked down at the gun in her hands, before she replied, "You're just dwelling on this stuff because you made it back alive. You need to stay focused on living. That's how you'll help Winry."
Edward grunted, and lifted his mug of coffee to his mouth. Riza paused for a second, debating with herself.
"How else can you protect her?" she asked. "After all, you love her, don't you?"
In a flash, Edward spat out his coffee and looked up, blushing. He immediately began blurting excuses, his face becoming redder with every word. Riza's smile faded. Silently, she continued to wash the bloody weapon.
"What happened with Scar… I'm sorr –"
The water came to a boil, whistling loudly.
Riza blinked out of her stupor, and looked around her. Black Hayate leapt up, startled at the sound of the kettle, a growl beginning in his throat. The sight of the overgrown puppy with his hackles raised made Riza smile, and she set a gentle hand on top of his head. The low snarl cut off immediately, and he relented. He looked up at Riza, and whimpered in concern.
"It's fine, boy," she reassured him, "I just remembered something."
The whistle became louder, shrieking throughout the apartment. Riza shook her head, and stood.
Steam rose from the water, pale in the bathroom light. Riza looked down at the shower handle, as it poured from her hair in rivulets. She hugged her arms to her shoulders, brushing the top of the raised scar with her fingertips. The burn didn't hurt any more, hadn't for years, but she could still remember the pain.
"I have a favor to ask, Mustang. Please, burn this off. Deface my back."
Her bangs fell in front of her eyes like a curtain. Then the memories came rushing back.
"Once all of this is over, I'm going to end my life, and remove my secrets of flame alchemy from the world."
His voice rang in her mind, accompanied by the rushing water.
"I can't… I can't afford to lose you."
It had been three years since the Promised Day. Three years since that day when Mustang had seen the Truth. For the past three years, that Truth had blinded him.
Three years ago, Marcoh showed up with the Philosopher's Stone, with an offer to heal Mustang for good.
l - l - l - l - l
"What the hell do you think you're doing Marcoh?" The hospital doors slammed open and Edward barged in. His red coat fanned out behind him like a demonic cape, fluttering darkly as it settled.
Riza started from her position on her hospital bed. The bandages that were wrapped around her neck pulled tight, and she winced, but didn't say a word. Breda and Fuery looked up as well, shuffling the papers in their hands.
Marcoh turned, surprised. His eyes widened, and he tried to hide the small red vial in his coat. "Ah! Edward!" he exclaimed, voice shaking, "I – I thought you were set to travel back to Resembool today."
Edward glared at the doctor, fury shining in his eyes. "I was, but then I happened to see a flash of red when you passed me in the, station." He thrust his hand out to the doctor. "Hand it over, Marcoh! The Philosopher's Stone!"
Marcoh stammered, clutching the bottle closer to his chest. "What – What do you plan to do with it?"
"Destroy it, of course! What else would I do?"
Marcoh sputtered, shocked, and he shook his head furiously. "No! We can't! I want… I want to use it to help people, Edward!
"Help people with the souls of the Ishvalan people you murdered?" Edward accused. His golden eyes narrowed, not even a glimmer of mercy available for the doctor. When the man didn't answer, too ashamed to argue, he gestured again for the vial. "Hand it over Marcoh."
The doctor hunched over, silent, but then he whispered, so quiet that it was barely a breath, "No… never…"
Edward frowned, gritting his teeth as he clapped his hands together. "Fine! Suit yourself, idiot doctor! I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice. They don't call me the Fullmetal Alchemist for nothing!"
He pulled his sleeve down, and slapped his hand against his skin. Nothing happened. It wasn't automail anymore; his pale skin reminded him of Al's sacrifice. Edward stared at it in silence, as if just noticing the difference.
"Damn it!" he suddenly screamed, rage painting his voice.
Riza on her bed, not speaking a word as the boy threw a tantrum.
"Damn it! Damn it! Dammit!" he shouted, "Stupid door of Truth and its stupid sacrifice and that stupid little freak! And that stupid Stone I just want to break it and put this away but no you idiot doctor you have to be stupid just like that stupid Truth and it's stupid sacrifice and I oughta punch you in your idiot face!"
Riza saw Roy stiffen on the next bed over, and the Colonel opened his mouth to say, "Fullmetal–"
"Don't call me that!" Edward cried, shoving Marcoh from his seat. The doctor hit the floor with a grunt.
Just then, Alphonse Elric appeared in the doorway. "Edward, why–" he cut off with a yelp as the doctor's chair flew past him, crashing into the wall outside.
Alphonse looked back in, eyes wide and shocked. His face was flushed, as if he'd been running. At his side, a cane dangled from its strap on his arm. "Edward, what is going on? Why did you run away like that?" he asked. "We'll miss out train if we don't hur–" He paused again, noticing Marcoh.
The doctor gazed up at Alphonse nervously, his limbs shaking with anxiety. The Philosopher's Stone lay on the floor beside him, the small vial catching the light like a gem.
Alphonse entered the room, and calmly walked past Edward, who was breathing heavily, looking around for something else to throw.
"Whataya want, Al?" he seethed, not looking at his brother.
Alphonse ignored him, kneeling down beside Marchos.
"Alphonse!" Marcoh breathed, a hidden plea in his voice.
Alphonse put a single finger to his lips, and reached for the small vial on the ground.
Riza glanced at him, and watched as he pocketed the stone. "Alphonse…?" she murmured.
Marcoh's eyes crawled forward, protesting, "No, please!"
Alphonse didn't respond, and just shook his head. His eyes drifted to Riza.
He winked.
His expression dropped the next moment, and he became stern. "Edward!" He hobbled over to his brother, the older boy furiously punching the wall in his venting anger, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Brother, we're going to miss our train, and I don't think I can run anymore."
Edward's gaze traveled to Al's arm, and then to the cane. His chest fell, and the wild look left his eyes.
"Fine," he muttered, "Let's go." He looked back at Marcoh. "This isn't over, you idiot doctor!" And with those words, he stormed out of the room, his red jacket flying behind him.
Riza breathed a sigh of relief. She shook her head, and then held out a hand to Alphonse, not needing to ask.
The boy only shook his head. "Don't worry, I'll keep it safe," he said, "Remember, I've seen more of the Truth than Edward has." Roy opened his mouth, but Alphonse interrupted, "There's another way for you to heal, Colonel, but I can't show it to you now. I don't have the means yet. Until I do, you'll have to look after each other." He glanced at Riza. "There's always another solution. My brother taught me that. Trust me."
He graced them with a small smile, and then turned away, hobbling out the door after Edward, leaning on his cane as he went.
After a moment, Mustang sighed. "He's right." He turned back to Breda and Fuery, the two still staring at the door in confusion. "Breda, where were we?"
The man sat up abruptly, looking down at the papers in his hands. "Er… Dual-cropping, sir."
l - l - l - l - l
Three years ago.
Riza stared down at the tile while the water turned cold. She gripped her shoulders tighter, grasping the feeling of the scars. She shook her head and turned off the water.
Riza walked into the room quietly. Black Hayate followed at her heels. Mustang sat at the kitchen table of his apartment, hands folded in a steeple, lost in thought. At the sound of Hayate's paws on the floor, he sat up.
He looked in the direction of the door, his blind gaze stern. "Lieutenant, it's about time you got here," he admonished gently, his voice soft.
Riza smiled, and crossed the room. "I'm behind you, sir." Roy smirked, as Riza moved to help him up.
"I'm not deaf, Lieutenant."
After three years, he knew his blindness well enough to take care of himself. But even so, Riza came by every morning to drive him to work.
"Have you heard the news, sir?"
Mustang smiled sadly. "I assume you mean the trading post? Yes, I've heard. Now I just need to wait for Grumman to retire as Fürher, and then I'll finally be head of this country."
Riza didn't smile at the man's words, knowing he meant them.
They walked through the building and emerged out onto the street. Riza raised a hand to shield her eyes at the morning sunlight. Roy didn't react, and instead stared blankly ahead. Blinking away spots from her vision, Riza glanced over to him. Something was off; she could feel it. But instead of saying anything, she only led the way to the car, waiting for him to say something first.
On the short drive to Central, he suddenly stated, "This world is flawed. To see the world with all its flaws is true beauty." Riza looked at the man, keeping one eye on the road.
"Sir…?" she asked, confused by his blunt observation.
He smiled softly, and leaned an arm on the window. He propped his face up, and for a moment Riza almost believed he could see the building rushing past outside. "I think the Elric's are rubbing off on me. That can't be good." After a moment, he mused, "What do you think they meant?"
Riza frowned. They hadn't talked about that day for the past three years. "I don't know, sir."
Roy sighed, "For some reason, I've been getting restless to see the world. I want to see if anything has really changed. Nothing we do will ever erase the scars of the past, and we can't fix that." He sat up again, and turned to Riza. His dulled eyes stared gently at her, and he asked, "But we can change it, can't we?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Do you think that he would forgive me now?"
Riza hesitated, her breath catching. She thought of the headline from the paper, and another memory flashed in the back of her mind. Maes Hughes smiled at her, his laugh filling her ears. She swallowed, her throat tight.
"Yes, I'm sure he would."
In that instant, everything clicked. Al's words, his promise. The last three years left another scar on Riza's body. She glanced over at Roy, and saw his eyes. Something wistful glimmered in them, and she saw the life still ablaze underneath. But behind that flame, they were still there; somewhere in that blind gaze, she could see the lingering mark.
She saw the creases around his eyes, and remembered when they first appeared. She remembered that day on the battlefield, so many years ago, and understood why he thought like he did. Why he looked so far to heaven, to the head of the country, and to a place where he could find a new vision. She remembered what he called them, his haunted eyes.
The eyes of a murderer.
She turned back to the road. In the rearview mirror, she saw the same eyes on herself. Her hands tightened on the wheel.
It was time to find answers, about that day three years ago.
The rest of the car ride passed without words, and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye silently planned her trip to Resembool.