A Time Like This
It was her second night in Central after the war in Ishval. Her search for an apartment hadn't been successful, so she was staying in a small motel east of Central Headquarters. She found that she didn't have much of an appetite these days, so dinner at the café next door had consisted of her staring into a cup of tea for an hour or so. The city was abuzz with excitement as celebrations of victory continued as the sun went down. She assumed it had been like this since the news had reached the public about the war coming to a close. She was thankful her stay in town had only just begun and hoped the parties wouldn't last the rest of the week.
She rubbed her temples as a group of rowdy soldiers walked past her on her way back, shouting and cheering. She could have vomited at the sight of happiness in light of all the pain and suffering she had witnessed over the past couple of months. She leaned against a brick wall as the thought of it made her dizzy with anger. Closing her eyes to drown out their chanting, images of bloodied and damaged Ishvalans played out in front of her. Startled at the vision, she instantly opened her eyes and gasped. A young couple passing by glanced her way and she felt her cheeks flush. Damn it all if this was how she was going to live the rest of her life. Could she never close her eyes again for peace? Not like she deserved such a simple thing as that. But now was not the time for self-pity. She didn't deserve that either.
She tried to compose herself, sliding down the wall to sit on the sidewalk, watching as another group of soldiers filed down the street. One of them caught her eye and she froze in terror. The Flame Alchemist, Roy Mustang, drink in hand was being flanked by celebrating fools. Instinctively she put her head down, hoping not to be noticed. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of him taking part in the festivities. She knew he was as troubled as she was over what had taken place on the battlefield. How dare he party into the night after he caused so much wrongful destruction? Deep down a part of her wished she could put aside her conflicting feelings and just let loose for a night and forget it all. But she knew all too well she never could.
She wiped her eyes before any tears could spill over as she listened to the shouting fade away. Taking a breath she allowed herself to look up, only to see a figure looming over her. Her heart skipped a beat and her adrenaline spiked, but calmed when she realized it was not an Ishvalan enemy. After a second though it jumped again when she met eyes with it. The it was a him and the him was Mustang. She cursed bitterly for being found out and in this pathetic state no less. She met his steely gaze and matched it, hardening her expression, refusing to speak first.
"Come join the fun." He invited, the tone of his voice seemed distant and cold.
"No, not tonight, I was just seeing myself home." She countered, picking herself up. He was taller than her and she felt at a disadvantage because of it.
"I insist, you wouldn't want to be the only one not at the party." He held out his hand. She didn't take it, but he took hers anyways, leading her in the direction she had hoped to avoid.
"No, please. I'm not much of the celebrating type. Really, I'll be a drag."
"Nonsense, you'll fit in just fine I'm sure." He said matter-of-factly, continuing to lead her down the street, almost a little too forceful for her liking. She tried to think of any excuse that could defeat him, but her mind was blank. The only solution she could come up with was hoping he would get caught up in everything and she would be able to sneak away. With this in mind she allowed herself to be led into a tavern of sorts without putting up anymore fuss.
"Hey Hawkeye! I didn't know you were in town!" A man named Jackson yelled at her almost as soon as they passed through the doorway. She remembered fighting alongside him and smiled meekly. A couple more soldiers greeted her, passing her a drink. She took it but did not indulge in it right away.
Mustang led her to a table and sat down next to her, accepting another drink as he was also greeted by hearty cheers. He was quickly swallowed up in conversation and pats on the back. Hawkeye would have gladly used this distraction as her getaway, but Mustang was still holding onto her hand under the table, as if he knew of her plan. He can't sit here all night. She thought. He was a hero of the war, no doubt garnering plenty of attention. He would soon forget about her and she could leave. She just had to wait until then.
Hours seemed to pass and she was wrapped up in her own conversations, listening as others shared their war stories with her. She did not share any of her own, but piped up with comments here and there so she wouldn't have to be pestered by the men who seemed to be becoming increasingly drunker. Mustangs hand was like a weight on her lap. He hadn't once spoken to her since they had entered the bar, but he hadn't let go of her either. Her patience was growing thin. She had already drank two glasses of whatever the bartender was serving and she knew she shouldn't have anymore, although it was numbing her pain ever so slightly. But thoughts like that were dangerous and if she allowed herself to feel relief she knew she wouldn't be able to control how much she consumed.
Enough was enough. She had endured this treachery far too long. Mustang would have to deal with it. Hopefully he wouldn't notice if she stood up, but that hope was silenced as soon as she went to take her leave and he spun around, staring at her with his black dead eyes.
"Leaving already, Hawkeye?" Jackson asked, a pout slithering across his face. She simply nodded and smiled.
"I won't be able to get out of bed if I stay any longer." She joked and gave a small fake laugh.
"Are you sure you're done?" Mustang asked icily. She turned to face him, their hands no longer touching.
"I'm quite sure, I appreciated your company." She answered. And with that she walked towards the door, hoping that would be the end of it.
The chilly air outside made her shiver, but she was alone. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she began her walk back to the motel. She hadn't gone but 10 meters when a voice pierced the silence.
"Hawkeye."
She closed her eyes slowly in annoyance but almost obediently stopped in her tracks and waited for him to catch up.
"Leaving so soon?"
"I thought I made that clear back in there." She did not meet his gaze.
"Then I'll walk you back." He said after a moment, looping his arm through hers. His touch made her shudder slightly. She hadn't noticed the electricity she felt when he touched her earlier, but now it was hard to ignore.
They were silent for the whole duration of the walk.
"Thank you for walking with me." She said as they finally reached the front door of her motel, gently removing her arm from his.
"Of course." They were silent again as she opened the door, but she stopped and spun to face him.
"Why?" That simple word was hard to say, but once she did she felt better as she waited for his response. She felt it was only fair to ask since he had practically chained her to the chair in the bar. He did not answer immediately.
"I didn't think it would be right for you to be alone in a time like this," was his soft response.
"Alone is exactly what I wanted to be." She said angrily.
"But it's not the best thing for you right now. You need to be around other people."
"Is that so?" She closed the door and walked back towards him, too angry to leave now. How dare he tell her what was best for her? He was not her keeper! She was a grown woman and could make her own decisions.
"What would you do up there, all by yourself? Sleep? No, you don't sleep like you used to. You would sit wide awake, reliving all the horrors from that place. All by yourself." He said, looking down at the ground.
"Is that what you do?" She huffed.
He didn't answer.
Her anger dissipated as the silence grew stronger around them. So he really hadn't been reveling in the drink and happiness as she had thought. He was just trying to keep his mind off of everything. His tight grip on her the whole night was starting to make sense.
"Oh Roy…I –" She started, but he held up his hand to stop her. His eyes were clenched shut and she could tell he was losing himself.
"I'd best be saying goodnight then, Miss Hawkeye." He finally said after a couple moments of more silence. "Thank you for accompanying me."
He turned and began walking. She noticed though, that he wasn't walking back to the bar, but in the opposite direction.
Off to be alone.
"Mustang!" She called as he turned a corner. He didn't reappear. "Damn." She walked after him. As she turned the corner she practically ran into him. He had been waiting.
"Yes?"
"Come back?" She asked, almost meekly but with enough determination to make herself look strong even though she was falling apart. She looked into his eyes that no longer seemed dead like in the bar, but instead full of despair.
"Why?" He asked quietly.
"It isn't good to be alone in a time like this." She replied softly, a small, reassuring smile sneaking its way across her lips.
She took his hand and led him back to the motel as he wrapped his arm around her waist.