criminals usually head south
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Summary: Oneshot. An AU where Roy deserts in the Ishvalan War and Riza follows.
Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Maes Hughes
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: T
Word Count: ~4300
Warnings: injury, death, war, implied PTSD, suicidal thoughts
—
Roy left the night after he saw Riza.
He hadn't decided he wanted out of this war, out of this hell until he saw her standing there, gaunt and sloped, so unlike the girl he left at her father's grave. He had done this, he had thought instantly, he had brought her here with his foolish hopes and plans. He had made her a killer. Rationally, he knew that her actions were her own- he had not made her enroll in military academy, had not made her enlist, had not made her pull the trigger that made her the murderer. But the thought boiled inside him, until he knew he couldn't murder another innocent.
He waited, til he could see the stars- he remembered learning about the constellations in school, and his alchemist's eye usually made it easy for him to spot the patterns, but he never saw any out here- and he rolled out of his bunk. Grabbed a canteen full of water and bag of full rations and ran. It was, in hindsight, a wonder he wasn't caught. He simply darted out of the camp, out into the desert waste. The cool air made it easy to run without stopping. The difference in temperature at night in the desert always astonished him, even though he knew it made sense. No water, no way to store the heat of the sun.
It made it easy to make flame, too.
It wasn't until he the sun was climbing the sky that he realized he didn't actually have any sort of plan.
He flopped face down in the sand. This immediately proved to be a poor idea, and he rolled over, staring up into the cloudless sky as his breath seized in his lungs. Where could he go? He wasn't even sure what direction he had run. He sat up, trying to think. He had run not straight away from the city through the camp, but he had gone through the tent and out into the desert. South? He must be heading south. Roy took a swig of water and swished it around til he couldn't taste the grit of sand in his mouth. He almost spat it out, until he remembered where he was, and forced himself to swallow it down.
He should have brought more water.
What did he bring?
He opened the canteen. It was full, besides the drink he had just taken. Hastily, he corked it and opened the brown bag he had stuffed stolen rations in- he tried not to feel guilty about taking some soldier's meal- and investigated the contents. Canned meat- he'd somehow managed to grab only beef- and canned bread. One useless tin of instant coffee. Roy couldn't waste the water on it. It would have to be thrown out.
One weeks worth of rations, in all. Maybe more if he was careful. But the water lessened it to half of that.
Roy sat back and stared at it all. What had he been thinking? He couldn't survive on this. If he headed into the desert with this, he would die.
But he couldn't go back, either.
He sat for a moment longer, then loaded the rations back into the bag. He turned and walked into the desert.
—
He continued on for most of the day before he heard the thud of footsteps behind him. They were so quiet, but the lack of other noise made it loud as thunder.
The response was ingrained at this point. Head for high ground, it gave you a wider range. Turn, wait, raise your hand and prepare the attack in your mind. Strike before they have a chance to. He watched the sand dune and waited for his pursuer to top the hill.
He wasn't expecting Riza.
She stopped at the top, and for a moment they just stared at each other. His arm was locked in place. She had her rifle slung over her shoulder, and her eyes were wide. It was, he thought, the most emotion he had seen on her face since he had first seen her.
"Major," she said, finally, her voice whisper soft.
"Riza," he choked out. He dropped his arms to his side, immediately ashamed. He had run because he hadn't wanted to kill, and now, here he was, aiming to strike without any thoughts at all. "Why?" He asked. "Why are you here?"
"I was on watch last night," she said. Her expression had vanished again. "When you ran, I waited til my shift was over, and then I followed."
She followed him again. He led her into danger again. He stared at her, watching the shadows shift across her face in a way he'd never thought to focus on before.
For a moment, they were silent. "You have sand in your hair," Riza said, almost reproachfully, and for some reason he was flooded with relief.
—
They didn't make much progress for the rest of the day. They talked, mostly, about what had happened after Roy had left. She'd enrolled in the military academy and found a talent for marksmanship. Her father had never let her touch a weapon before.
"They called me the Hawk's Eye," she said, stirring the fire Roy had created- no smoke, an alchemic marvel. "They still do, I suppose."
Her eyes went vacant again. It happened every time she was reminded of the war, of where they were. Did his do the same? He tried not to picture this, and instead said, "not a very creative nickname."
She smiled, and it was the only thing he'd seen so far that reassured him that the girl he'd met so many years ago was still in there. It was gentle, but her eyes crinkled at the corners. "Better than Ri."
"I called you that once!" He protested.
"And you only stopped because my father thought you were being too familiar," she said drily.
"Too familiar? I could say hello and your father would think I was being too familiar. I could look at you and your father would think I was being too familiar. I could breathe the same air as you and your father would think I was being too familiar." And she was laughing, and Roy was too, and it was lighter than he had felt in a long, long time.
—
"As far as I can tell, right now we're here." Riza indicated a spot on the map with her finger- she had had the foresight to pack a map and compass, and water and food to last. "The camp most likely realized we were gone yesterday, but it will take them time to figured out which direction we're going.
"And which direction are we going?" He asked. "South, correct?"
She shook her head. "We were, but they'll be expecting us to go that way. Aerugo is where most head because it's closest. We should head to the east, towards Xing."
"That takes us across the Great Desert."
"Yes."
Roy digested this. "All right," he said finally. "I have relatives in we could stay with them."
He stood and offered Riza a hand, which she she rose, she said, "I didn't know you were Xingese. I saw it, but-"
Roy shrugged. "Only partially. On my mother's side. And it's not really something I go shouting from the rooftops, especially…" Especially in the military. The thought died.
Riza heard the space, and said quickly, "You've met these relatives?"
"Well- no." He acceded. "But I've seen pictures. And I know where they live."
She arched an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you speak Xingese."
"Some," he said. They turned to head east.
—
Things were a little easier during the day with Riza, but the nights weren't any better. Roy didn't really know why he had expected them to be.
He jerked awake in the middle of the night, swallowing the scream burning up in his throat. Blinking away visions of things he'd done, things he could do, he sat up, only to see Riza, wide awake. She was sitting on a sand covered rock, legs crossed, watching the horizon. She glanced at him, then quickly looked away.
"Riza?" He asked.
"Keeping watch," she said, almost too quickly. "Go back to sleep." Her rifle was balanced in her lap.
He paused. There hadn't been any talk of establishing a watch. "Do you want me to take a shift?"
She opened her mouth, and he could already hear the reasons for him not to- her eyes were better, she hadn't been up long- but she paused, and nodded. Wordlessly she stood from where she was sitting and went to lay in the sand. He wished there was a way to say thank you- he break from the nightmares was a relief- but no words came. But he thought she might understand. He sat on the rock and waited, unconsciously rubbing his gloved fingers back and forth.
—
It was early morning when Roy remembered he had left Maes behind.
"Maes," he said aloud without meaning to. Riza turned immediately, eyes locking on him. "I left Maes back there." His feet shifted on the sand, and it covered his boots.
Riza relaxed slightly when it became apparent there was no immediate threat. "The soldier you were with," she said. "When I saw you." He nodded, but he was barely hearing her words. Maes had saved his life. Maes had saved his life, and Roy had run without looking back. Riza tilted her head, searching his face.
"If he had wanted to run," she said, "he would have done it."
"But I left him," Roy repeated lamely.
"Roy," she said sharply, and he was startled into looking straight at her. "Would he have come with you?" She asked. "Would he have left, knowing there was no way he would ever come home to Amestris?"
Roy hesitated. Maes had just received a letter from Gracia just that day, he remembered. He had said that she kept him going, and Roy believed it. It was all he ever talked about. Maes wanted to marry her. He even had ideas for the wedding- outdoors, under a clear blue sky and green grass all around.
"No," he said. "He would've stayed."
"Then that's all," she said firmly. Roy stared at a place some distance behind her. Riza stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. Roy looked at it, and then, without thinking, took it in his own hand. He rubbed his thumb over the palm of her hand- It was callused from holding her rifle and firing it, over and over- and she said nothing, but she watched his hand with something he thought might be longing.
Finally, he dropped it, and they walked on.
—
They were gnawing hard rations early morning when Riza finally asked the question. "Why is this war being waged?"
Roy kept chewing, partially because he had just taken a bite and partially because he didn't have an answer. He swallowed, feeling the bread travel down his throat, and finally said, "civil unrest is the official reason."
"But this- this senseless slaughter," Riza pressed. "Civil unrest is no reason for killing those who have never acted against Amestris. For killing innocents, for killing children-"
"There is no good reason for this kind of war," Roy said quietly. She bowed her head, shoulders shaking. The wind pulled her bangs free from behind her ear. They obscured her face from his sight, and he immediately wanted to push the bangs away.
She took a deep breath and sat up. "I hate this," she said bitterly. Her eyes were not damp. This saddened Roy even more than if tears had been pouring down her face. She turned her head to face him. "I want the flame alchemy on my back burnt away."
Roy stared. "What?"
"If the alchemy is destroyed," she said, her voice gaining strength as she spoke, "then there will be no more Flame Alchemists, and it will no longer be used for senseless violence." He flinched, but she didn't even blink. "Please, Roy."
The danger inherent in this idea thrummed in his head. He'd practiced exact strikes, but not on human flesh. He had destroyed human flesh, but with all consuming fire, not slices on bare backs. He could kill her. She would die painfully in the desert, alone but for him. But she knew all this. He swallowed. "If that is your wish." He said. "But not now. When we reach Xing."
Her eyes flashed, but she said nothing. He stood, wincing at the hot sand under his bare feet. He reached for his boots and shook out their contents reflexively, and out came a scorpion. It writhed on the sand for a moment, until Riza's booted foot came down on it, crushing it.
Roy looked up at her. She was staring at her foot. The scorpion's tail was still twitching underneath it. "Let's get moving," she said.
—
Riza was standing on the top of a sand dune, looking back when she saw them. "They found us," she said. Roy turned sharply, staring at her back. He could only see half her face, but the creases of her frown were visible. He forced his legs to climb back up the hill again, stopping beside her.
Her vision had always been sharper than his, sharper than anyone he had ever met, but he could still see the blur of blue uniforms in the distance. They wavered in the distance, blurred by the sun's heat. "Maybe it's a mirage," he said weakly.
"No," she said, with quiet certainty. Something in her voice made him pause.
"Riza," he said. "How long have you known they were there?"
She didn't answer at first, but only looked away. "I've seen them since yesterday morning, but I've only just now been certain they're there."
Roy breathed in slowly. "All right," he said. "All right. Let's get moving."
Riza looked up at him. "Roy," she said. "We won't be able to outrun them. They're on horseback."
"I'm not giving up," he said, turning away to begin down the hill. His foot slid and he began to fall. He opened his mouth to yelp, but Riza reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him in place. Her grip was iron strong.
"Listen to me, Roy." She said, and her intensity was terrifying. "If they catch me, they will try me for desertion and they will kill me. If they catch you, they will not do the same. They need your alchemy." He stared into her eyes. "If I stay here and I hold them off, it could give you the time you need to get away."
"That's not an option," he said, twisting his arm away from her.
"I'm going to die either way, Roy," she said, her voice building as she spoke. "At least let me keep you out of their hands. At least let me keep my father's flame alchemy from being used for more destruction-"
"I will not let that happen," he growled, stepping closer. "I will not let them catch you, I will not let this alchemy be used for more destruction, I will not let you die." He gripped her shoulders in his hands (his hands that were trembling so hard it was shaking her whole body.).
"It's not your choice!" She yelled. Tears were burning in her eyes. "You can't make me come with you. You can't make-" Roy crushed her to himself.
His shoulders shook convulsively in a suppressed sob. "You're right," he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I can't make you. But please, Riza. Please don't don't make me leave you."
She stood in his arms. "All right," she whispered.
—
They pressed on for the rest of the day without stop, pushing even late into the night. Roy's muscles ached, but he said nothing. Their pursuers, he reasoned, were probably catching up to them. If they could gain a little ground, even a microscopic amount would make some kind of difference. He wiped sweat off his face with a jacket sleeve. He was going to have to get rid of this uniform at some point.
"Roy," Riza said. It was the first word she had spoken since they had seen the men. "Stop. We need to rest. Even if just for a moment." She was breathing hard, too. Sweat stained her uniform. He gulped air, meaning to reply verbally, but instead simply nodded.
Reaching for the water canteen slung around her shoulder, she uncorked it and took a drink. She held it out to him. "Here," she said. He automatically took it from her, then paused before drinking from it. This was her canteen, not his. He could simply drink from the one on hanging off him. He frowned at her, meaning to protest, but she said, "do you hear that?"
He paused, listening to the wind. "No," he said.
Her face creased into a frown. "I thought I heard something… footsteps, maybe."
"Should we keep moving?" He asked, but she shook her head. "Riza, take this back, I have my own canteen." He went to hold it out to her, then froze. Something had moved behind her. "Riza," he whispered. "There's something behind you."
She immediately went still- not the stillness that came from fear, but the stillness that came from focus and calm. "Can you see what it is," she said. Her hand was inching towards her rifle.
He squinted into the darkness. "It looks like some kind of wild cat," he hissed. The animal's eyes looked like gold plates in the darkness. He could barely see anything beyond it's teeth.
"Step back," she said. In an instant, she turned, rifle to shoulder. The animal lunged forward, mouth open in an impatient snarl. She fired at it, and it howled as it slammed it's shoulder. It leapt to her, teeth sinking in her skin.
"Riza!" Roy stepped back, fingers raised to snap. For a moment he paused to aim- for a moment he let it claw at her, let it scar her skin- and let the fire free. Please, don't let it hurt her.
It screamed and fell limp, fire still biting at its fur. He ran, and pushed it aside before the fire could spread. "Oh, God, Riza," he said weakly.
"Is it bad," she asked.
There were bite marks sunk into her shoulder, and claw marks dragged across her torso. Blood soaked her body, like she had been baptized in a river of blood. He grasped her face in his hands, faintly aware that this wasn't helping, that he could be doing something. Her skin was cold.
"I think I'm going into shock," Riza said. She stared off into some distant place he couldn't see.
"No," he said. "No, it's not that bad. Here." He shrugged his coat off and unbuttoned his uniform top, leaving only the white undershirt. Almost mechanically, he drew an alchemic circle in the sand with his finger around the blue uniform. With a crackle of alchemic fire, it was changed into strips of cloth. Roy gripped them in his hand and began tying them around the gashes and wrapping them around his shoulder.
"It's unusual," she said as he worked, "for wild cats to attack humans." She almost laughed, a dusty dry noise. He said nothing, but tied the last strip around her shoulder. Gingerly, he slid his arms under her body and lifted her into the air. This jerked her into awareness. "Roy, no," she said, lifting her head like it was a struggle. "I'll slow you down."
"Do not ask me to leave you again," he said.
She said nothing, but she stared into his face with a quiet sorrow as he turned to walk on.
—
He made himself walk, Riza in his arms, until early morning. He finally stopped, arms and legs shaking from exhaustion, with the sun held high in the sky above him.
"You need to stop," Riza said.
Roy forced himself to take another step and collapsed, Riza sliding out of his arms. He choked on sand. He pushed himself up on his forearms, and searched the area around him until he found her prone form. He crawled over to her, arms aching as he moved. "I'm sorry," he gulped out. "I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"
"We should have headed south," she said sadly.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head, their foreheads meeting. When had age started to matter so much? When had it begun to matter that above all that she, this sad girl who had become woman in the heat of the war he had dragged her into, survive? Was it the moment he had seen her in uniform blue? When he had first met her, so long ago? Or had it been here in the desert? Tears burned beneath his eyelids. "I shouldn't have run," he said.
"No," she said immediately. "No, Roy." She raised one hand and pressed it against his cheek. He opened his eyes and stared into her eyes, trying to memorize every detail of her weathered face.
"Don't forget your promise," she said. She closed her eyes and went still.
He burned her body where she had died.
Roy stared into the crackle of flame- he could still see the outline of her form, through the flames and the coat he had draped over her. In silence, he removed his gloves and threw them into the fire. The last of flame alchemy destroyed.
She had taught him to sew just so he could stitch the alchemic pattern on the pristine white gloves.
He forced himself to turn away from the makeshift funeral pyre and continue into the desert. She had not died so he could sit and let himself be captured. The day wore on. The sun made its endless trek across the white blue sky.
He wasn't sure how long he had been walking when he heard the voices behind him. They forced him into alertness, and he made himself run- how he had energy to run, he wasn't sure. He ran until he saw a crude hiding spot- a cave formed out of rock and sand. He almost wanted to laugh- they could have used this earlier. He ran inside, the coolness inside the cave a welcome relief.
"…was that fire, anyway. He burn her to death?"
"Alchemists are psychopaths and you know that. Who could kill that many people and not snap?"
"All right men, search the area," a voice roared. They were going to find him, Roy realized bitterly. He'd come all this way and led Riza to her death, and he was going to caught. Footsteps sounded outside the cave and someone entered. Roy glanced up, automatically.
It was Maes.
He froze automatically, staring at him. It couldn't have been a week since he'd last seen him, but it felt longer, like years had been crammed into that week he had shared with her. Maes turned his head to search the cave, then stopped as he laid eyes on Roy. "Oh, Roy," he sighed. He straightened and wiped sweat off his forehead. "Why'd you have to go and run?"
"I couldn't stay," Roy said. Speaking felt like coughing, an involuntary reaction forcing its way up his throat.
"Anything in there, Hughes?" Someone shouted.
"I'm still looking, give me a minute," Hughes shouted back, irreverently cheerful. He turned back to face Roy, and the cheerfulness was gone. "Roy, if I had known… what made you do it?"
"Riza," he said, and it hurt to say her name.
"That woman who recognized you," Maes recalled. Roy managed to nod, and thought about Riza's words earlier, when he had remembered Maes. That soldier you were with. "She ran, too. Roy, that burning body…"
Roy sat forward, and Maes stepped back lightning quick."I didn't kill her."
"No," Maes said quickly, raising his hands. "No, of course not. But why?"
"She died." It felt like it the first time he had actually acknowledged this. Riza was dead. "She wanted me to burn- burn the body-"
Maes stepped forward and gripped Roy by the shoulders. "Okay," he said. "Roy, calm down, it's all right. Listen to me. Where are you heading?"
"Xing," he rasped.
"Xing," Maes repeated, nodding. "Stay here for a few days. After tonight, we're heading back to the city. We're running too low on supplies to keep searching. You'll probably just be declared dead and that'll be the end of it."
"You're…. Not turning me in?"
"No, Roy. If I could get out of that hell hole without losing Gracia…" He shook his head. "Keep heading east. You'll make it."
Roy wasn't sure he wanted to make it. "Maes, please- take back whatever's left of Riza and bury her. Don't let her be forgotten."
Maes hesitated- looked like he wanted to say something, but he nodded. "All right, Roy." He squeezed his shoulder and stepped back.
"Maes," Roy said, and he looked back at Roy. "I'm sorry."
He suddenly looked very tired. "No, Roy," Maes said. "I'm sorry." He stepped out of the cave into the light of the desert. "Nothing in here!" He yelled. There was a groan from the other soldiers. Someone shouted the order to get moving, and the noise of the squadron headed deeper into the desert. Roy sat in silence, as the blazing white sky faded into cold darkness. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, and for the first time in months, he didn't have nightmares, but dreamt of Riza, standing under a clear blue sky and endless grass all around.