(A/N): Got myself in an angsty mood wondering about how Riza would react to first seeing Roy in Ishval, and this was born. Hope you enjoy! Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated.

Thoroughly exhausted, but too jittery to sleep, Riza Hawkeye made her way over to the large fire going in an open area of the camp. A few others meandered around, catching up with friends or downing bottles of cheap whiskey they had been saving for an occasion like today's victory.

An occasion like murder of hundreds of people left with no option but to fight. Thanks to a few State Alchemists that had been brought in, Riza's squadron had acquireda major defeat today, deflecting a haphazardly put together attack delivered by a group of Ishvalen rebels. None survived.

Due to the defeat, curfew had been extended a few hours, giving the disheartened soldiers some time to relax and find some matter of enjoyment in the world of bloodied sand and death. However, there was nothing to celebrate for the young sniper as she trudged back from the field.

She had seen him today.

It was from a distance, and she wasn't able to read his facial expression, but Roy Mustang was there. Right in front of her. His gait was less easy than it had been years earlier, when he had pushed her into the pond, leading them to laugh until their sides hurt. His head hung low with sorrow... so far from the confident and carefree apprentice she had known in her childhood. But there was no mistake: it was him. And she wished she could close her eyes and pretend he wasn't there. Pretend that this wasn't the only person that had given her happiness after the death of her mother. Pretend that this could not be the boy that excited her so much with his ideals that she gave him the one thing that could ruin both of them.

The explosions could be seen for miles around- buildings and people going up in flames in a matter of seconds. If Riza listened closely, she could hear almost hear their screams amidst the crackling of the fire. The smell and taste of smoke and blood and dirt suddenly was overpowering, filling her nostrils and laying stagnant on her dry taste buds.

Feeling the world begin to spin, she collapsed to all fours, retching, trying to shut the sounds of explosions and yelling out of her head.

This was not how it was supposed to happen. He had promised hope, and serving the people, and other childish things that could never come to fruition in a war. She had trusted him, only to have it thrown back in her face.

Now, not only would Riza haunted by the people that appeared before her scope, but the hundreds of agonized victims that had fallen under his flame. This was all her fault. The foolish belief of a child was now killing hundreds.

She bit down on her lip until the coppery taste of blood seeped onto her tongue, in an attempt to prevent herself from hyperventilating. Relatively quickly the sounds of battle ceased, but Riza didn't return until far after the rest of the soldiers. No one would miss the sniper curled against the crumbling brick, hands against her ears and eyes squeezed shut tightly.

Coming back to the present, Riza blinked in the firelight, trying to forget the events of the day. She tucked her arms to her sides in an attempt to further warm herself as she watched the flames. The orange glow might have been comforting years earlier. Once, fire had been a source of warmth and light.

"Just like him," her mind chided, but she pushed the thought away with a sharp shake of the head, nausea churning her stomach.

Now, the flames were destruction, death, and the seemingly ever present smell of searing flesh. A side conversation between two other soldiers drifted past Riza's ears, catching her attention.

"... As if those filthy Ishvalens even stood a chance against the Flame Alchemist," the first said with a barking laugh. He was only a cadet, probably having been sent to the squadron recently. There was no other explanation for the carefree lilt in his tone. But still, the words burned into Riza's mind, where they were knocked around in her subconscious like the marbles she played with in her youth.

Everything in the sniper's body told her to move away from the too-loud soldier, but her feet stayed planted, frozen to the spot.

"No kidding... those military dogs will have the war finished in days if this keeps up," the second replied with a smile, taking another swig from the golden liquid in his glass bottle.

This is wrong.

All of this is wrong.

She was moving away from the campfire, and the loud men before she even noticed her feet hitting the sandy earth.

Get out.

Get away.

You don't belong here.

Riza ran hard until the voices faded into silence, though the words continued echoing through her head with each pounding step. As the quiet of the night filled her ears, she slowed her pace, taking in her surroundings. The sniper quickly realized that she was in an unfamiliar part of camp. Upon taking a few glances at the remaining soldiers awake, she quickly noticed stars decorating their uniform. This must be where the higher ranking officials were stationed. A few people milling about gave the distraught and out of breath woman an odd look, but most continued going about their business. Still, Riza was quite aware she was not supposed to be there.

Slowly stumbling backwards, she felt herself connect with a mass who gave a surprised "Mmph!"

Without turning to see who she had ran into, the sniper mumbled an apology and broke into a fast walk in the opposite direction towards a more secluded and barren part of the encampment. With each step she became more and more desperate to get away from all the voices and watching eyes.

She still hadn't managed to calm her rapid breathing, or the pounding headache that had begun at the first explosion earlier. Ducking her head and avoiding the eye contact of any passing officers, Riza wove past tents until they became few and far between, finally slipping through the dark archway of a crumbling building.

There, away from the fire, and the drunken men, and the boisterous laughter, she crouched down in a corner and cried.

It was a silent sort of crying, the kind that could be hidden behind howling desert winds… but the tears fell all the same.

She cried for her mother, who had always believed in giving life, and who would probably be ashamed to see what her daughter had become. She cried for her father, who in his withdrawn, roundabout way, had tried his very hardest to let her know how much he cared, even with no love left in his own broken soul. And lastly, she cried for the boy she had fallen in love with, back before she even knew what love was. Riza cried for summer days with her father's apprentice; when there was nothing to worry about but where to locate the best honeysuckle to sweeten their taste buds. For nights splayed out under the stars, talking about everything and nothing. For the Roy Mustang that would never have taken her trust and used it to set the world on fire.

It might have been hours she spent in that corner, or a few minutes, she couldn't tell.

Just as the tears began to run out, and Riza was left with nothing but an even- worse headache and stuffy nose, she heard something from the world outside besides the howling winds: footsteps.

There was no time to rub her puffy eyes before an all-too-familiar face cautiously peered around the broken doorway. The figure froze when he saw her, shock registering on his face. The shock quickly turned to sorrow as he drew closer.

"Riza…" He marveled. "I thought I-"

"Leave," She snapped, with more bite than she had intended.

He didn't.

Instead, he came closer, with steady steps.

Too drained to yell at him again, she merely curled further into herself.

After a moment's hesitation he crouched in front of her. She winced.

"Riza-"

"Don't call me that," she hissed weakly.

The alchemist looked pained, but complied. "... Hawkeye… why are you here?"

His question surprised her, but she tried not to show it. There was far too much softness in his tone. It was as if he was speaking to a wounded animal, or a small child. She hated being thought of as either.

When Riza didn't reply, Roy furrowed his brow, continuing.

"Why didn't you tell me you enlisted?" The worry lines deepened. "And why are you here? If anything you should still be in the academy; this is practically the front lines!"

The sniper scrubbed at her aching eyes, still refusing to meet his.

"I had orders."

"You should have said no. They should have given you more time," he replied, the slightest bit of anger sharpening his tone.

At this, Riza clenched her fist. "Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do," She spat, staring him down with a venomous glare.

His eyes didn't waver and she was forced to look away. She could feel him studying her, in the same way he used to study his alchemy texts. He was trying to piece things together, unable to read her as if she was an open book like he used to.

"... I know you hate me. You have every reason to."

Riza didn't respond… bitter that he was able to draw such a reaction out of her; Hating that the way he said you made her heart twist painfully. Hating that after everything, she still couldn't hate him.

"I hate myself too," Roy added quietly, finally looking down.

Surprised at this, the sniper looked up, finding in his eyes that his comment was sincere. Her heart twisted again.

"I… don't hate you," She said hesitantly, voice low.

The major's face contorted, and he clenched his fists.

"You should." He watched the shifting sands with a pained expression. "I betrayed you."

"You did," Riza replied evenly.

"I killed innocent people."

"You did."

"I deserve to die."

"We both do."

Finally, Roy raised his eyes to meet hers, which were still red from crying.

"Then why?"

Riza seemed to ponder this for a while, studying him. She took in the dark circles, and hollow cheekbones. The ever present worry lines, and dirt-smudged forehead. Finally, she looked into the obsidian eyes she had grown to know so well. They held an ocean of guilt, and tiredness, and pain, that she had become quite familiar with in herself, but they were still his. The boy she loved was still in their somewhere, challenging fate for a better future.

Roy took note that the malice from earlier was gone, replaced by something more a keen to hurt, disappointment… and something else he couldn't read.

"Because of this," She gestured to his near-quivering form. "Because after all we've done, you haven't let yourself become the monster they want you to be. You're just human. And humans make mistakes. In our case, some unforgivable ones."

She paused at this, biting her lip as the memories resurfaced.

"But unlike monsters, humans can change. And feel. They can take something awful and make something good out of it. I don't quite know how yet, but…"

She caught his gaze and held it.

"I… still believe in you Roy."

The alchemist's bottom lip trembled slightly as he set his jaw.

"What if I can't believe anymore," he finally said thickly, desperation creeping into his voice.

"That's okay for now," Riza replied, gently brushing away the tear that escaped down his cheek. "Just keep moving forward. Don't lose yourself. We are going to have a lot to give back once this is all over, and I need you there to help me do it."

At this, Roy gave a pained nod, burying his face in his knees. Riza tugged him over beside her, where they sat in companionable silence, leaning against each other for balance.

Both were tired, hurting, and terrified, but it is surprising what the gentle warmth of a person beside you can do.