She was only seventeen. It was never meant to happen like this, but everything happened so fast. It was the first time she had seen Roy Mustang in nearly three years. He'd gone off somewhere, saying he was going to do his own thing, and finish his research elsewhere. She never questioned his reasoning; it wasn't her place. But when he came back, everything changed.

She could still remember that morning. It was a lazy Sunday, her father was doing better, all things considered. She had made him tea, and he insisted on being left with his research. She left it go.

Her quiet footsteps brought her outside, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. Somewhere off in the distance she could barely make out the figure of a man walking towards the house. It was highly unusual, since their house was off in the woods; with nary a visitor in sight. As the figure came into sight, she finally realized who it was. At first, the blonde wanted to warn her father that he'd come home, but before she could bring herself to take a step towards the house, his black trench blew in the wind.

Telling her father would be an awful mistake.

"Roy!" She shouted, keeping her distance. She wouldn't bother him, he seemed to be on a mission. "What are you…you're home?"

Finally, he stopped in front of her, his boots thudding softly in the mud. His stark, pristine uniform drew an odd color against the sky. The orange hue of the sky contrasted with his uniform and caused her to frown slightly. She knew her father wouldn't approve of his usage of time. "I'm home."

Of course he would call this his home; he was an orphan, where else could he go?

"You idiot!" She screamed, beating her fists weakly against his chest. "You unbelievable idiot! You promised me you wouldn't leave! You promised me that you wouldn't do this and you did!"

He gently grabbed her wrists, stopping her from her pounding motion. "Elizabeth, I had to. I…know I promised never to do so, but it had to be done. I'm…going to Ishval. They need us there, all the alchemists are going. We can make a difference."

"Is that what they have you brainwashed into thinking? You made a promise to a dying man that you would never betray him like that!" Her voice cracked ever so slightly with emotion. "You promised him, Roy Mustang."

"I know. But this is for the greater good, Elizabeth. People will benefit…you'll be safe."

"Me? You're doing this because of me?" Her hands fell to her sides, she looked away in shame. "You shouldn't do anything because of me. That's just foolish. You have your own life, as you've demonstrated by leaving us. Go and have fun playing soldier."

"I…need your father's permission first. I don't have a legal parent…"

She scoffed and started towards the house, anger evident in every sashay of her hips. "Good luck getting him to give you a yes now; you've already betrayed his trust."

Roy already knew how stupid he'd been in his decision to enlist, but Hawkeye was also dying. With no one to take care of his daughter, perhaps he'd understand why Roy made the decision he had. He followed her into the house, his hands itching inside his pockets, wanting to make all the effort in the world to toe the line. He'd given her that much, he might as well give her a little bit more. "Elizabeth…do you suppose he'll want to talk to me?"

"Who knows?" The anger in her voice caught him off guard. She'd always been so calm and eloquent around him, but now it was like she was a demon. He couldn't exactly say he didn't understand, but her voice startled him. "Father," She tapped on the door to his bedroom. "You…have a visitor."

…

The next few days went by without incident. Probably because Roy had been staying at his aunt's house. He was no longer allowed at Berthold's house, and their agreements had been nullified at that point. Elizabeth wasn't even talking to him. When he got word that Berthold had died, he went to attend the funeral, much to Elizabeth's dismay. Standing calmly at the grave site while they buried the body, he kept his hands in his pockets.

"He was a good man."

Elizabeth said nothing.

"It was an honor to work with him."

Still, she said nothing.

"…he'll be missed."

Finally, she turned to him, amber eyes blazing with emotion; "You didn't even care for him enough to respect his only wish, Roy."

"The last thing he said to me was to protect you, and that's exactly what I plan to do by going to war. I have a day before I leave, and I'd say that's kind of uncanny timing from the universe's perspective if you ask me. You're really going to let me go to war while you're angry with me? You're literally the only thing I have to return home to, and you're going to take that little piece of life away from me? If you don't even respect me, then who am I fighting for?"

Her head bowed. At least he'd had the decency to be at the funeral. That was more than she could say for other people in Berthold's life. "Am I really all you have?"

"I don't have anyone else, Elizabeth. If I can't even fight for you, why should I bother going out there? What am I sacrificing for?"

She reached out a hand, softly touching his shoulder. "Come by the house, we'll talk there. This…isn't the place for a conversation like this."

…

One thing led to another, and before she knew it, they were both in her bedroom. It started out with him sitting on a dresser, his legs crossed as he talked to her. They were talking about all their plans from this point on, when – like a flicker of a flame – they woke up together the next morning.

And now it was almost two months later and she'd just gotten the news. Sitting in the doctor's office, she rang her hands over and over again while he did test after test on her. There was no way what he'd said was true. It couldn't possibly be. They weren't careful, they were just two teenagers caught in a moment, but it also wasn't possible for this to happen on the first time, was it? Not to people like her, anyway.

Her heart nearly stopped when the doctor looked at her, his voice somber. "I'm sorry."

"I'm only seventeen! I haven't even been through school yet! I was going to go to college-" And like that, the floodgates opened. Her hands moved to her face as she started to cry. It wasn't fair to throw all this on her in that moment. At least the letter he'd written said he got there okay, that was one thing to look forward to. But she would never tell him about her news today.

She didn't intend on keeping the child.

Silence filled the room and rang in her ears like a deafening reminder of what they'd done. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear her father yelling disapprovingly and threatening to beat her. Her hands fell to her lap as she looked to the doctor again. "Do…I have any options?"

"There really are none. I could suggest purging, but it's not healthy for you or the baby."

"…purging?"

He nodded and adjusted his glasses, watching her shift uncomfortably. "It's when you take a lethal amount of drugs or drink more alcohol than a body can handle. But I don't suggest it, as I've said; many women have died doing that."

"Are there safer alternatives?" She felt selfish asking the question, but she didn't want this kind of responsibility right now. She couldn't handle it.

"Well, the only other option you have is to put the child up for adoption. There's closed adoption; meaning you would never meet the parents and the child wouldn't know who you are unless you wished to tell them some day. Or there's open…in which case you know all the details and procedures." He sighed. "You would really need to talk to a lawyer."

Voice low, heart sinking in her chest, she nodded. "If I do a closed adoption…I don't have to know about the child's well being?" She felt even more selfish thinking about all of this with a war going on; with the father behind enemy lines where he could do little to stop her. She could easily tell him, but the words just weren't coming to mind. Instead, she was left with the emotions and turmoil of their one night decision. "I'd…rather not think about it."

"It's a life-long decision either way, Ms. Hawkeye. I suggest – implore you, even – you think this through thoroughly before any decisions are made. If you make a decision in the state you're in now, you'll only regret it later. Give it a day or so to think it over. If you don't want the child, contact the military police and they will put you in contact with a lawyer who can help you resolve the issue from there. But please, I beg you; don't harm yourself over a decision like this."

Her nod was half dead as she slipped off the table and headed towards the door. Her hand reached for the handle as if she was going through the motions, but nothing was happening. In her mind, her world had ended. She could only imagine how Roy felt being on a battle field, thinking about how his world was also coming to an end. Could she, in all honesty, 'purge' herself without feeling guilty? The father was likely fighting for his life out there in Ishval, and here she was talking about terminating a pregnancy. What if he didn't come home?

Somehow she'd made it outside of the office, where many people were milling about reading the paper. It was a big news day; Amistris had just sent in their first Alchemist only troops; and among the names listed was Roy's. She didn't read the paper, but she knew it had to be on there, he was the top of his field. A hand instinctively went to rest on her stomach, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything else.

She could see a young couple staring at baby booties in a window, their laugh carrying over to her ears, like melodies in the night. It was nice seeing someone enjoying the news, but she wasn't. At least there was some good news to come out of thousands of men and women dead, today. She stopped at the window, staring at the booties for a moment. They were blue with little bows on the tops, barely big enough to fit more than two fingers in. Curiosity getting the better of her, she entered the shop.

Along the walls were toys and clothes, things that were considered necessity when raising a child. A pink elephant doll stuck out to her and she gave a shy smile. If she was keeping the child, she might as well get a toy for it, at the very least. She couldn't be much of a mother at seventeen, that was for certain, but at least she could show her she cared. Then the thought struck her that it might be a boy and she frowned. What if it was a boy? He wouldn't want a pink elephant. Grabbing two of the stuffed doll, she placed them on the counter and paid, smiling haphazardly at the cashier.

It wasn't a decision she could make in one trip to a store or one conversation with the doctor. It was something she'd have to think long and hard about, and her father and mother weren't there to offer any advice. This would be harder than she previously thought. And then came the question of Roy.

How would she tell Roy that she had 'purged' their child?

…what if he didn't come home alive?

The thought made her nauseous.