Day 1: Penance: FMA Angst Week

Definition of Merriam Webster: "an act of self-abasement, mortification, or devotion performed to show sorrow or repentance for sin."

Warnings: Sexual scenes, nothing explicit. Mention of self-harm in passing

Note: Please note some dialogue is taken directly from Episode 54 of Brotherhood.

Special thanks to cyphergemini for the beta. (Any remaining mistakes are mine).

Killers

The war was over. Roy had sought to it himself. Everywhere he walked he only saw victorious and drunken soldiers carousing as if there was something to celebrate. They all wanted to thank him, to clap him on the back, or in one case, tell him they would name their firstborn after him. They thought he was being modest. It couldn't be further from the truth. It was his arrogance that brought him here and his arrogance that set him on this path. "Alchemy is meant to be used for the people." What a joke that turned out to be!

He weaved through the soldiers, having given up on sleep, his feet automatically leading him by Hawkeye's tent, just like he often did during these long nights. She wouldn't welcome him or congratulate him. She would look at him with those eyes of hers, hatred mingled with sorrow for what he had become, what they had become. Those years spent in her father's home (for it was never hers, not really) seemed like a lifetime ago. The secret of her father's flame alchemy had burned them all and sealed their fate. They could never go back to when they thought they could change the world for the better: use alchemy to save people, not for war or genocide. Some part of him had been changed, inside a darkness and rage that was only satisfied when he was snapping his fingers. She was the only one that truly understood that darkness.

As expected, Riza was sitting outside her tent warming her hands by the campfire. She looked up at his arrival.

"Not out celebrating with your men, Major?"

"It doesn't seem like there is much to celebrate."

She nodded and gestured for him to sit. He sat on the log opposite her.

"Drink?" She offered him a flask.

He arched an eyebrow and took the flask. The alcohol burned his throat as he drank.

She took the flask back and took a drink herself. "I guess we're going home tomorrow."

There was no enthusiasm in her voice. He wasn't sure that he was ready to return home either after everything he had done here. It would never be the same.

"Will you return to-"

"My father's house? No - I'll head back to East City and you to Central I assume?"

He inclined his head. "Hughes is dying for me to meet his sweetheart."

Her lip twitched. "His darling, Gracia."

"Have you -uh- got someone -uh- back home?"

"The academy was taking up all my time, I didn't have time for a private life." She looked him right in the eye. "You got girlfriends waiting for you?"

He smiled at the jibe. "Nothing serious, some dates but rarely the same girl twice."

She took another drink from her flask and then passed it to him again.

"I always thought you were an incorrigible flirt."

"Nothing wrong with flirting as long as you behave like a gentleman."

He took another sip and handed it back.

"Gentleman?" She chuckled darkly. "There's no room for gentlemen in the military."

His smile fell. "No, I thought we were coming to protect Amestris. The Ishvalans didn't stand a chance."

"Genocide," she spat. "My father was right about the military. We should have listened to him."

"I wish I was strong enough to walk away."

"Me too," she whispered. "We're cowards."

"Something like this should never happen again. These orders are coming right from the top. We won't be free until the Fuhrer is deposed."

She arched an eyebrow. "That's treason, you'd want to be careful who you let hear you say that."

He locked his eyes on hers. "You don't disagree though."

"No - I don't."

He could see the weight of the world in her eyes. He hated seeing her like this. She took a sharp intake of breath as he reached out and touched her face.

He pulled his hand back like he had been burned. "I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

She pressed her hand to her face and smiled sadly.

"You know you could do it."

"Do what?"

"Inspire people. Your men would fight tooth and nail for you, as you would for them."

He frowned wondering if she was saying what he thought she was.

"Roy?"

He started at the sound of her using his given name.

"I want to forget for a while. I want to pretend we never joined the military and that we're back in Amestris again."

He arched an eyebrow. "And I walked into a bar, and there you are."

"I'm wearing a nice dress."

"You're beautiful and my jaw is dropping on the floor. Your dress is green, I've always liked green on you."

She smiled. "And you're wearing a suit? What type of a suit does charming Roy Mustang wear when he's trying to seduce a woman?"

"A three-piece with a vest, of course."

"Mmm." She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I want you to help me forget. This game is fun but I've something more pleasurable in mind."

His jaw dropped. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She looked around before she pulled him into the tent. "I want you."

God, he wanted her too. She kissed him hard and he met her with equal fervour. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. They fumbled with each other's uniforms, getting rid of the offending material as quickly as they could. They pulled apart to breathe and she loosened his trousers. They dropped to the ground and she shimmied out of her own. He lifted her up and moaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"You're beautiful-"

She swallowed the rest of what he was going to say with another scorching kiss. He stumbled forward and they landed on the makeshift bed. They tore off the rest of their clothes and soon they were moving together as one. Her fingers dug hard into his back as she moaned into his ear. It was raw and animalistic as they roughly took what they needed from one another.

When they were both sated and drew apart panting, they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"Thank you," she said finally.

"You don't need to thank me. I needed this too."

He grabbed his clothes. "I should probably leave."

He hoped she would ask him to stay even for a little while longer.

"You should," she said instead.

Still, she watched as he pulled on his uniform.

"What will you do after the war?" he asked.

"I don't know but I do not wish to see what damage my father's alchemy can be put to."

He wouldn't want to see him again if he was in her shoes.

Roy nodded. "I can understand that."

She smiled at him. He couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked right now, her hair mussed.

"Major, if it was another time, maybe-"

"Another Roy and Riza, you mean."

Their time had passed long ago.

She inclined her head. "You do understand, don't you?"

"I do." He slipped out of the tent, "I'll see you tomorrow, Hawkeye."

Roy did not see Hawkeye at the assembly the Fuhrer held the following morning. He was sure she was there somewhere in the crowd when he told Hughes of his plan to get to the top. They had done so much harm. There had to be something they could do if not the redeem themselves but to make sure nothing like this could ever happen again. As long as Fuhrer Bradley was in charge, there was a risk there could be a repeat.

He left his tent along with his things when he heard a soldier with a clipboard ask: "Does anyone know where Hawkeye is? She's not in her tent."

He heard the name, panic bubbling in his chest. Could she have been set upon by some angry Ishavalans? Or could she have harmed herself? He had to find her, make sure she was alright. He dimly heard Hughes call after him but he ignored his friend.

It took at least a half hour but eventually, he found her on her knees in the sand in front of a what looked like a makeshift grave. He had seen a lot of those.

"Aren't you going back?" he asked. "You'll be left behind."

She didn't react to his arrival.

"Who's that?" he tried again. "A war buddy?"

"No," her voice broke, "it's an Ishvalan child." She bowed her head. "One left dead with nowhere to call home."

"Let's go, the war is over now."

Still, she remained on the ground, her back to him.

"The fighting may be but the memories of what we did in this place are far from over. They'll stay with me for as long as I live."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew it would be the same for him.

"I believed in you," she continued, "trusted you with my father's research and I applied to the military academy because I hoped to help other people. The way things turned out, it's not what I wanted. But there's no escaping the truth, I can never atone for all the suffering I've caused."

His mouth worked but nothing came out. He couldn't deny the painful truth in her words. They will never be able to redeem themselves, they will never be forgiven for what they've done. And he was the one that brought it on them both with his folly and naivety.

"I have a favour to ask, Mustang." Her voice grew stronger with determination. "Please burn this off. Deface my back!"

He gasped. "How could I ever do something-"

"At least-" she interrupted. She shook her head and started again. "I may never be able to atone, but at least I can deface the secrets on my back." She slumped forward, her voice trembling. "There can be no more flame alchemists. Can you do this?" She stood up, head still bowed and back to him. "If so, please release me." She lifted up her chin and turned around to face him. She looked him right in the eyes as she pleaded, "I want you to release me from my father's burden. Please set me free from his alchemy."

He just stared at her eyes wide. He was the one who took her gift and abused it after all. How could he possibly refuse her?

"I'm begging you."

His hands clenched and his body was shaking. "Alright, I'll leave as little trace as I can."

She closed her eyes, the relief clear on her face.

"Thank you, Major."

He felt sick at the thought, but it was the least he could do for her.

"If I didn't give you the research then all this loss of life would not have happened."

"It's true that alchemy ended this war quickly and brutally." He looked down at his hands, "You don't bear responsibility for my sins. These were done by my hands alone."

"Your crimes are my crimes, Major. Your sins, mine."

He dropped his head. She really believed that. He saw it in dead look in her eyes. He almost told her then about his intentions to get to the top but the words stuck in his throat.

"About last night-" she began.

"It was a mistake," he finished.

She met his eyes. "Not an unpleasant one though."

Certainly not. They both got what they wanted - to forget for a little while.

Maybe things could have been different in another life? But not in this one. She could never love him, not after what he did, what he made her into. Not when he gave her killer's eyes.

Fin