Warning: Character Death
I don't own!
III
Cold.
He stood, shoulders back, standing tall, face void of emotion as he listened to the wind.
There was no rustling behind him, no other presence in the green field on that warm summer day.
He was completely alone.
This was the first time Roy Mustang had ever stepped foot in the military cemetery alone. He might have "entered" alone, but he wasn't ever really alone. She was never far behind.
She had always watched him carefully. First, it was from afar, when he had come to live with her and her father, then up close, when she thought he was sleeping. He could feel her presence as he laid there, eyes closed and trying to make his breath as even as possible.
The wind blew, rustling his new, crisp uniform. As much as he tried, he couldn't get rid the smell of "new." A pungent smell of reminders. Reminders of all the sacrifices he made to get where he stood today. The sacrifices they had all made.
When he had left his teachers house, he was hell bent on joining the military, becoming a high ranking officer, and one day, to run Artemis. He wasn't surprise that she followed him, standing a few feet behind him as he signed his recruitment form. He looked behind him, and smirked, "Don't worry Miss Hawkeye; I'll watch your back through it all." He held out his pen to her. She snatched the pen, brushing past him. "I think it will be you that needs watching out for, Mustang."
How right she was.
His eyes were unfocused, staring through the grey stone that he "towered over." Out in the open with the warm summer breeze, he felt constricted, cold, and short of breath. He clenched his jaw, eyes refocusing on the gray slab, forcing he words to sink in.
She was right. Even when he didn't think that she was in the same city, she would be there, eye in the sight, watching him. At first, the prickling sensation on his neck was annoying. He knew she was there, watching. But the when the sound of gunshot broke out and he watched someone, the enemy he didn't see, fall from a building, he quickly became grateful for the prickling sensation on his back.
The sensation was now gone, he knew that it would never feel again. Never again would the sense of her presence be felt.
And for what? For him?! It didn't matter what he did, she was always there. He was spoiled, he took advantage of her. He never cold imagine her not by his side.
The stone was clear; his fantasy had come to an end. The words cut like a knife in his soul.
His heart clenched, and stomach rolled, as the lump in his throat he was trying to suppress, to ignore, grew bigger as the open field, empty of everything but himself, suffocated him, drowning him, making it hard to breathe.
He suppressed it. The convulses, the ragged breath, and the buckling feeling in his legs. He stood straight, stood tall. Stood like the solider he was.
He wished to hear the roll of thunder, feel the droplets of rain, giving him the right to break down with the clouds.
"Riza Hawkeye." His voice was raspy and unstable. He repressed the shaking, tremble in his shoulders. He tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in his throat. He shut his eyes, pushing back tears that threatened to fall. Behind his closed eyes she haunted him. Her amber eyes, full of life, of hope, of determination.
A wet streak stained his cheek. He swallowed hard, standing straight, standing tall.
He felt a prickle on his neck. He was being watched.
"General Major?"
It was Havoc. His voice was strong, a lot harsher than hers no matter how strict she was trying to be. It wasn't her, it wasn't the same, and it would never be the same.
He took another ragged breath.
He heard footsteps come to a halt, and Roy took a deep breath.
"Roy, come on…it's time to leave." His voice was softer.
He only opened his eyes, staring at the words. Why do you continue to follow me Lieutenant? He wanted to ask, but he didn't trust his voice. You could end up like her. Like Riza.
"Sir?"
The word echoed in his head. He'd heard it a thousand times, but from her.
Riza.
Roy Mustang lifted a gloved hand to his face, wiping a stray tear from his face as he took a deep breath. He turned to face his subordinate in his newly pressed uniform and signature cigarette nowhere to be found. He had dark circles under his red eyes. "It's-it's time to go back General…"
All he could do was nod, as he looked back at the stone, whose words would forever be etched into his memory.
General Riza Hawkeye.
Roy straighten and looked back the Lieutenant Havoc, who's eyes were now fixed to the stone, eyes glossy, and frown etched deep on his face, as he swallowed hard.
"Let's go Lieutenant." His voice was soft and far away as he walked his subordinate not far behind. As he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge, he felt tears roll down his face. It wasn't worth it. It will never be worth it. It will never be the same.