She was his guardian angel, always jumping in before he was on his deathbed, and so often, she was the reason he had not died yet. Any time someone (another, or even himself) was contemplating his demise, she would jump in and save him, no matter the cost to herself.
You would think she would realize it was just plain stupid, but no. Never. And certainly not this time.
It had been one of those stupid balls for military publicity. Everything had been going swimmingly. He had been schmoozing, per his usual, scoring points especially with the wives of the higher-ups. He always did know just how to make things go his way.
If he controlled them, that is.
He had asked her to dance –another usual event- and she had not refused. After all, they did like to chat every now and then.
After that, it all happened so quickly. The faraway look in her eyes with a hint of anger, panic, and fear had alerted him to the fact that something was amiss, but he had only a split second before she had switched places with him, shoving him to the floor as the bullet hit her where his heart had been (and, due to moving backward after shoving him, where her collarbone was then) a fleeting second ago.
She had passed out immediately. The intense shock of the shot was to blame, according to the doctor. The steady rise and fall of her chest confirmed that her life remained for the next second, and it was all he had to cling to. Never in his life had he been more scared to lose something. All of her strength combined was enough to overcome any obstacle. He had been sure of that until now, four hours and no sign of improvement later.
The whole way to the hospital, and even now, he was in a bad state, bad being quite generous. He was nearly as catatonic as the woman lying on the hospital cot. Thank whatever force that protected her that the flow had been stanched quickly, or she would not be there as a fact. He was not sure that she was real even now. Though she was not as tall as him, the shot had hit something, but the doctors were not telling him, assuring him that she would be fine.
He sat there for an hour that seemed like an eternity before anything happened.
The doctor walked in, as promised.
"Colonel Mustang," the older man stated grimly, "I'm afraid I have bad news…"
The End
A/N: Did she live? Did she die? I was planning on having her wake up and a) not remembering anything in the past few days and/or b) be unable to speak after being shot in the vocal cords. There was also the option of her being unable to live much longer due to 'complications'. I couldn't decide, and it seemed better this way. Make of it what you will, but I'm leaving it here and that's final.
And I don't know what happened to the person who shot, either. I don't even care. They're not the focus. They were just the catalyst.