Wow, it's been a while since I got to post a story. I hope you all enjoy this latest fanfic. It isn't a songfic like I usually write, but it is loosely based off of the song "Break Down Here" by Julie Roberts, of which I own no part. I also, regrettably, own no part of Fullmetal Alchemist, and these characters (with the exception of a few you'll see here) are not mine. The parts you will see in italics from this point on signify a flashback. Enjoy, all!
Riza Hawkeye couldn't have said how long she'd been driving. It could have been minutes, hours, even days, and she was sure she wouldn't have known the difference. Only did she realize just how far she'd actually driven when she noticed that the scenery had mysteriously changed from the tall, concrete jungle that was Central into rolling green hills and quaint little cottages, and as the sun began to set, she realized that what she had done had been completely reckless and irresponsible. What had she been thinking taking off like that? (Not that it was entirely unprecedented, mind you. She had every right to be gone with what she had been through.)
She jumped in surprise when the military vehicle she had all but hijacked began to sputter and cough as if threatening to break down on her. She switched the gears and gave it a little more gas, getting it going again and deciding not to worry about it. Of course, whenever her mood seemed to get just a little bit brighter, something else would come along and ruin it. At least, that was how it had been for the last several days, and now was no exception. Just after the car began to speed along its course again, the sky let out with a terrible, pounding rain.
Hawkeye groaned in frustration, unable to see the road for the rain, and she knew that she had to do something quickly or the dirt roads would literally turn to mush beneath her. As if answering her prayers, she spied the lights of another cottage up ahead. Drawing closer, however, she realized that it wasn't just a cottage but an inn. "Thank the gods," she whispered, pulling up to the inn and hoping that they had an extra room for the night. Even if they didn't, what the heck? She'd sleep on the bar in the lobby for all she cared right now.
She walked inside to see several people still about, eating dinner in the little dining area to the side, having drinks at the bar, and going about the general business of small town people. She sat down at the bar, and the elderly bartender gave her a look of nothing but scorn. "Can I help you?" he said with an air of anger and superiority. "I don't usually take to serving military dogs around here."
Hawkeye sighed deeply and said, "Look, I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just need a place to stay for the night. I can pay you double the normal cost if you'd like, but there's no way I can make it anywhere in this rain."
He eyed her up and down and finally replied, "Fine. You can stay in one of our extra rooms on the second floor. But don't expect me to…"
The man was cut off when a woman came out from the back room and shouted, "Ralph! Stop being so arrogant and go serve some other customers!" Ralph scowled and stalked angrily away as the woman took his place in front of Hawkeye and said, "I'm sorry, dear. He's my husband and I love him, but he can be a mean old coot sometimes. He's just come not to trust the military in recent years."
"That's all right," Hawkeye replied. "In all honesty, so have I."
The woman smiled and said, "My name's Helen. Is there something I can get for you? You look a bit down on your luck."
She looked around at the myriad of drinks up on the bar and said, "Anything hard would be nice." After she handed her a drink she added, "Thank you. I'm Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye out of Central Command."
"Central?" Helen said in surprise. "You sure are a long way from home then, dear! What brings you to our little town? Surely the military has no business out here. There's really nothing here but a one-road town and a couple hundred people."
Hawkeye had to smile at the implication. She knew that the military had gotten a bad reputation for mysteriously attacking little towns and cities that they really had no place being in, and at the same time she felt a little bit bad for making these poor, innocent people worry just by being there.
"Don't worry," she said. "The military has no business here, and really neither do I. I just…had to get away for a little while. I wasn't even really sure where I was going. I just kind of drove until it got dark and I was forced to stop because of the rain. Speaking of which, where exactly am I?"
"Why, you're in Jade, dear," Helen said sweetly. "We're just a little old town no one's ever heard of." She then noticed a distinctly unhappy look about Hawkeye, and she furrowed her brow as she said worriedly, "You know, if you need someone to talk to, I'd be more than willing. I'm a great listener, and people around here have made a habit out of seeking me out for advice."
Hawkeye didn't feel the least bit happy, but she forced a smile and said, "Thank you, Helen. You're very kind. Forgive my cheerful disposition. I'm afraid I'm just so happy that I can't stop crying."
Now the elderly woman was really worried. Something terrible had happened to this poor young woman, and she couldn't help but feel that she needed to reach out to her and help her. She reached across the bar and put a hand on Hawkeye's as she said, "What made you run away from Central, Riza?"
She was so upset from the recent happenings that she didn't even flinch when the woman called her by her first name. She put a hand on her forehead and said, "It started weeks ago, all these shameful undertakings. The Fuehrer was sending soldiers out by the thousands to different parts of the country, each division to a different city for a different amount of time. I guess I knew the time would come sooner or later…I just didn't think it would come so soon."
She paused, unable to go on for a minute. She felt a catch in her throat as she remembered the day Mustang had gotten his orders to move out to some city far out in the West that no one had ever even heard of before. The oddest thing about it was that the Fuehrer wanted him to go alone, absolutely no subordinates or backup. He would be sent out with a small squadron of soldiers under his command, and they would wait there for their orders.
Hawkeye walked into Mustang's office to see him gathering up the necessary things he would need for his trip to the West. She glanced around the room and said, "Is there anything you'd like me to do to help?"
"No thank you, Riza," he said, obviously tired. "The only things I'll be needing I can carry on my person." He then glanced up with a little smile and said, "But what I would like for you to do is take care of everything while I'm gone. You're in charge, Riza. Keep them in line."
She saluted and replied, "Of course, sir."
"At ease," he said, walking closer to her. When she relaxed, he put his hands on her shoulders and said, "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. It could be days, weeks, months, or even years. But I'll be back."
Hawkeye nodded. "I know. I've never worried about you coming home."
Mustang smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Six months," he said. "I can't believe it. Only six months after I finally tell you what I feel, I have to leave."
She had to smile as well as she replied, "Oh come on, Roy. Be a man and pretend like you can live without me."
He stared at her for a moment, being sure to memorize her features to sustain him through the next little while that they wouldn't be together. "I love you, Riza," he said. "And I'll be back soon."
She nodded. "I love you too, Roy. Be safe."
"Oh, of course," Helen said. "I've heard of the famous Colonel Roy Mustang. The Flame Alchemist, right? He's legendary around the Eastern cities for all the things he did during the Ishbalan Rebellion all those years ago."
Hawkeye nodded solemnly. "That's the one." She then smiled nostalgically and added, "That's the Roy I know. We've worked together for so long. I've been his first lieutenant almost ever since I can remember being in the military. We've been through everything together, like best friends. It wasn't until almost a year ago that we confessed that we were actually more."
Helen smiled a little and said, "It's always sweet to find a love like that. Imagine discovering a love that was right underneath your nose the entire time. How terribly romantic!"
She closed her eyes to make the tears recede back into her eyelids, hoping that they wouldn't just spill out when she opened them again. No matter what, she would not cry. She'd done far too much crying lately. She wouldn't let anyone here see her do that. It was uncalled for for a woman like her to weep in public.
Yes, it had been terribly romantic when Mustang had confessed that he loved her. That much was certainly true. And about finding a love right underneath your nose: that was even more special to her. True, she and Mustang had always been close, but never moreso than after admitting their love for each other.
"So then why the long face, dear?" Helen asked. "I mean, I understand having to be separated from the one you love, but it isn't so bad. He'll be back soon. He promised you. And this Mustang fellow doesn't sound like the type of man to break a promise to a lovely young lady. He'll come back sooner than you think."
"No," Hawkeye whispered. "No, he won't. This is perhaps the one promise to me that Roy has ever broken…"
Earlier that day, Hawkeye had been walking through the halls of Central Command, going over the most recent files sent in from the Elric Brothers. After several moments of utter silence, she heard someone shout, "Lieutenant! Hawkeye, I have something here for you!"
She looked up with a start to see Havoc running toward her full-throttle, a piece of paper in his hand. She raised an eyebrow and said, "What on earth could be this important, Havoc? There's no need to shout."
He tried to catch his breath as he panted, "You…you should read this, Hawkeye. It was…sent here just a minute ago…by personal carrier…from Western Command."
Still confused as to what was going on, she snatched the piece of paper from him and simultaneously pushed all of her files into his arms. "Hold onto these for me please, Lieutenant." She then glanced over the letter and had to read it several times before the words even began to sink in:
Central Command,
We regret to inform you that yesterday on the evening of June twelfth, Flame Alchemist Colonel Roy Mustang was killed in battle by a bullet wound to the chest. We deeply regret the loss of such a fine soldier and officer, and we sent you our deepest condolences.
Western Command
Hawkeye's eyes widened when she read the words again. No! No, this couldn't possibly be! Something was wrong with the information! This couldn't possibly be right! As if reading her mind, however, Havoc held up the familiar pocket watch and said, "This was sent back with the note. One of the soldiers who had been with the colonel said that he wanted it sent back to you."
She took the watch in her hands and stared at it disbelievingly. Without another thought, she dropped everything but the watch, which she quickly put in her pocket, and she ran outside Central Command. Armstrong was standing there with the military vehicle the personal messenger had come in, and she instinctively knew that this was her only chance to break for it.
Hawkeye pushed him out of the way as quickly as she could and jumped into the driver's seat before speeding off to gods only knew where. "Lieutenant Hawkeye!" Armstrong called after her. "Come back! Riza!"
"And that's how I got here," she said softly. "I stole a military vehicle and just drove until I didn't feel like I could drive anymore…thanks to this god awful rain."
Helen's eyes were misty with tears as she took Hawkeye's hand again. "I'm so sorry, dear. This must be so hard for you."
"Hard?" she replied. "Hard doesn't even begin to describe it." She reached into her pocket and placed the watch on the bar, running her fingers over the familiar silver engraving. "I just can't believe he's really…" She trailed off, unable to say it aloud.
Finally, the incident her body had been waiting for unleashed itself, and Hawkeye began to cry as she could never remember crying in her life. She had finally moved passed denial into outright grieving, and once she had started, she found that she couldn't stop. The tears combined with her heartache were just too powerful. There was nothing she could do to make herself stop now.
Before she realized what was happening, Helen had moved around the bar and had put her arms comfortingly around her. "It's all right, my dear," she said gently. "Just cry it out. Cry all you need to."
As Hawkeye held onto this kind stranger and let her sobs echo through the night, she couldn't believe that she had finally broken down. Three hundred miles and five hours after she'd first been given the news that the man she loved was dead, she had finally cried. And what a coincidence that it had been in a place with a woman sympathetic to her plight. What a twist of fate that she should break down here.
The next day, Hawkeye emerged from the inn as the sun came up and thanked Helen and Ralph for all their help. She knew that there would be hell to pay from her superiors when she got back to Central, so she may as well head out as early as she could and get it over with. "Thank you, Helen, for listening," she said softly. "You were very kind to me last night."
"It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Hawkeye," the elderly woman replied. "If ever you are out this way again, please come stay with us. We'd love to have you back. Isn't that right, Ralph?"
The old man grumbled angrily until Helen elbowed him in the side. "Yeah, sure, I guess," he said.
Hawkeye couldn't help but smile a little. "Thank you again," she said just before getting back into her car and heading back down the road toward Central. This, of course, was just one step on the long road that she had ahead of her. She knew that it would take a long time for her to get over Mustang's death, if she ever actually did. But then again, she also knew that if she ever needed a shoulder to cry on, she could break down here.
