It was if a small jolt went through his body. I seemed to be an outsider to my own body as I watched the events occurring right in front of me. His body seemed to spin away slightly, his face a picture of slight shock. The uniform flaring slightly as his knees hit the floor with a muted thud.
My arm snapped up a small caliber pistol in hand with the lock off. The gun aimed at an invisible threat, my first reaction to everything. A small gasp seemed to wake up my mind. Choking in a gasp of my own I lowered my gun slightly and watched in horror as his body softly slid in to the column right above the steps his eyes still open.
My fingers loosened as I practically flung the gun to the ground and fell to my knees beside him. The dull clang of metal against marble seemed simply an unimportant background noise. Pale and shaking my hands stretched in an attempt to reach his face and horrified eyes watched as ragged breaths tore from his chest. My eyes were dragged to the rapidly blooming crimson flower beside his heart. Despite the dark blue uniform it was clearly visible and the deep red color reached the bright yellow hemming soiling the vibrant color.
A sense of complete, utter failure overcame me and I cried. Soft gasps torn from own chest accompanied by tears running down my face in small streams. My one hand pressed gently upon his heaving chest, wet with life blood and the other hand coming to rest on his cheek. His soft breath was ghosting across my hand in increasingly smaller increments. The warm dark liquid now covering my hand seemed unreal, a nightmare almost.
Charcoal grey eyes glazed over, his chest stilled and my world stopped. He wasn't supposed to die, he was supposed to live. He was supposed to be Fuhrer dammit! He survived Ishbaal, he wasn't supposed to die, he wasn't.
"Lieutenant! Lieutenant Hawkeye! Riza!" Havoc's face was turning red and his mouth was moving furiously, "….alright? Shit Lieutenant are you hurt? Answer Lieutenant!"
He was asking after me? Why was he doing that I wasn't hurt, Mustang was. Fury appeared behind Havoc with Falman. "Lieutenant, you have to let go off Mustang"
"Let go?" it seemed like an alien concept, I couldn't let him go. Blinking I realized that there were dozens of soldiers and several paramedics surrounding me. In response I gripped Mustang closer still not processing what had happened, he wasn't dead he couldn't be.
"Come on Lieutenant," Fuery said softly prying my hands off Mustang and lifting me up. "The paramedics have to take the Colonel." Right, procedure…procedure, procedure...
Oh God, he was dead. My legs gave out and the tears streamed, I collapsed weeping on Fuery. He said nothing, just stood there and for that I will be forever grateful.
xXx
The size of the funeral surprised a lot of the people there. There were the military attendees, even Edward came and then there were civilians. Dozens of civilians he had helped, a couple of Ishabaalans he had help escape Ishbaal even came. Madam Christmas and all her girls were there along with people from our home town. However these few people hesitated on the edge of the crowd looking unsure. As if even in death he would disapprove of them. Thankfully they had enough tact not to approach her at least not today.
From the looks on several peoples face she would be bombarded with questions soon enough though. Even Alphonse looked curious, but they could wait. Today was a day for he to mourn the man closest to her and she would deal with whatever else came later.
Please Review! There will be at least two other stories that tie into this one, The Soldier and His Dream.