The Promise Night
Roy Mustang trod down corridors far beneath the surface of Central City. Carefully checking around the corners, he pursued his prey. Steps on stone caused him to whirl around and whip up his glove, fingers at the ready. What he saw was unexpected company.
Maes Hughes came out into the open with a goofy smile and an awkward wave. "How's it going, Roy?"
"What are you doing here?" Roy was bluntly asked, aware of the sinking feeling growing in his stomach. "You're dead."
Hughes' visage melted away to reveal the cruel grin of Envy, partially hidden by stringy strands of hair. "Is this better, Flame Alchemist?" The Homunculus reached behind and pulled out Riza Hawkeye, her hair tumbling off her shoulders.
He reeled – that's not how it happened. Envy was on his last legs by the time Hawkeye had appeared. He watched in horror as Envy laughed and then slashed at the sniper's throat.
"Lieutenant!" Not again! This couldn't be happening again!
He tried to reach out to her, but found his arms were pinned – swords had been run through his hands. The room spun around in a disorienting dance; he found himself on the floor, atop a glowing transmutation circle.
Without a thought to his own safety, he swiveled his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Hawkeye, but then there was a blinding light that burned through everything.
With a huge start, Roy sat up, gasping for air. He frantically looked around, trying make sense of his surroundings, but he was only met with an unending darkness. By straining his ears, he attempted to pick up any sounds that could ground him reality, but everything was much too quiet.
Was he finally awake? Or was this merely a continuation of his nightmare?
His labored breathing drifted through the silence and he unsuccessfully tried to qualm the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The terror of the unknown gripped around his heart tightly and uncertainty filled his mind.
"Sir? Is everything alright?"
The simple query came from the hospital bed next to his and that one phrase paused his rising panic. It allowed him to wrestle back his emotions just enough to stabilize his voice.
"Yes, Lieutenant. Everything is fine."
He turned away from the direction of Hawkeye's voice to hide his irritated expression. His response had wavered ever so slightly and no doubt that the lieutenant's hearing was just as sharp as her eyes. No additional comment followed, but he knew that she was worried. Despite any concern she might harbor, she knew him well enough to let him save face by letting it drop.
He closed his eyes and the frowned. What was the point? Open, closed, his eyes would never see again. Now that he could no longer walk with confidence, how could he traverse the path of his dream? What sort of a commander was unable to look his own subordinates in the eye? No country would put their faith in the vision of someone who could not see what was right in front of him.
Once again, a brutal cocktail of panic and despair welled up within him. What was he supposed to do, now that he had lost his purpose?
"Sir." There was a light touch on his shoulder.
Shaken, it took him a minute to regain his composure. Damn it all – he hadn't even heard her get out of bed.
Roy Mustang, you are a pathetic excuse of a man. He cursed himself and was ready to tell her everything was fine, but apparently she had other plans.
"Would you accompany me?" she said in a soft voice. "To tell you the truth, I can't sleep – the stitches on my neck are keeping me awake. I was thinking of going for a short walk."
Pathetic indeed to have your own subordinates coddling you like some trauma patient. Roy tried to ignore the voice in his head that had been getting progressively louder since the action of the day concluded and he had settled into a calm lull at the hospital.
All the same, he allowed Hawkeye to guide him out of bed, down the hallways, their slippers tapping ever so slightly. They stepped out of a door – it could have been the front entrance or maybe the side. He wasn't able to make out the layout of the building. Yet another limitation in his sightless world.
Gravel crunched underneath his feet and he was confused. Where were they going, exactly? Minutes later, they stopped and he was seated on a wooden bench. A gentle breeze brushed through his hair and he could make out the faint rustling of leaves being shaken on their branches. They were outside? In a park of some sort? Did this hospital have a garden?
Several seconds of silence passed and then she began to talk.
"Rebecca once told me about a book her parents would read to her as a child."
"A book?" Roy asked incredulously. What a random line to open a conversation with!
"Yes. I think she said it was a collection of short stories for children."
Roy decided to let the dialogue play out, a bit curious as to where it was going. The lieutenant was not one to doddle on meaningless words.
"She mentioned that one of her favorites was a story about the sun and the moon. The sun had the job of casing light on the world, directing his rays towards our planet and providing warmth for all the people." She paused and he could hear the smile in her tone, tinged with a bit of sadness. "He reminds me a little of you – he also had the goal of protecting and helping everyone with the power of light and heat."
"Except the sun isn't in any danger of setting random bystanders on fire because he can't see where he's aiming." He immediately regretted snapping at her, but his mood was still raw after his dreams.
The lieutenant took it in stride before returning to the story. "And when it was time for the sun to rest, the moon was there, watching his back and casting light in the sun's place."
Just like you. It was Roy's turn to smile, the edge on his mood dulling.
"I don't remember the entire story, but essentially, one day the sun came up like usual, but his thoughts turned dark, away from his usually strong self. For some reason he thought about how far away the Earth seemed. Even the moon, who was his close friend and ally, was separated from him by a great distance. He felt very alone, in the darkness of space."
Roy's irritation came back in full force. This childish allegory was getting them nowhere.
"Lieutenant, this is rather heavy-handed of you: I can spot your intent a mile away," his remark was filled with anger derived from his feeling of worthlessness. "Let me guess – the sun figured out that it was okay to be in the dark because he was still able to help people, he got back his confidence, and then everything was okay again."
Taking a breath he found the words would not stop tumbling out of his mouth. "I appreciate the effort to cheer me up, but this is pointless. I am not the sun: the sun can at least perform its duties without the help of the moon or whatever. I am currently a state alchemist who cannot even practice without someone giving me direction! And I refuse to shackle you to me as my seeing-eye dog for the rest of our lives."
He respected her too much to see her squander her potential on simply being an aide.
"With all due respect, sir," she said sharply. "That is not a decision you get to make. I follow you because I believe in your dream: make it to the top, make a better country. However long it takes, I want to see that dream become real."
"That's impractical." he shot at her.
"How so?" she shot back.
Feeling his rage rise, he leapt up and spun to (hopefully) face her. "You'd best find someone else because it's highly unlikely that I'll be allowed to retain my position with eyes like these – never mind getting enough influence to make a difference!"
"You are acting like a child," was her cold response. He prepared to argue, but she was faster. Like always.
"You are acting like your entire word has collapsed, but you still possess all the tools to rebuild! You are a brilliant tactician – one of the best I have ever known. It's not like losing your sight has caused you to lose your mind as well."
She took a breath before moving forward with her tirade, but this time it was a touch softer. "You also care about your subordinates with an unparalleled passion and dedication. You have our loyalty and our support – we will not abandon you because of a trivial handicap."
"It's not trivial! All of you have lived through hell following me. Maes died! Havoc can't walk! Ross had to live her live in secret with a false conviction on her head. Even you-!" His voiced choked slightly. "Even you almost died. And that was all when I could see. How can you put your faith in someone who can't even walk without the fear of tripping and falling so easily?"
"If that happens, you pick yourself up and you keep going!" It sounded like she was standing now, wrath back in her tone. "Even if you have to scramble and claw your way to the top in the most disgraceful fashion possible, you keep going! If you lose your way, I – we will be there to pull you back onto the right path." Her voice was trembling. "Are you or are not the man who will one day become Führer, protecting those you care about and creating a better future for Amestris?"
Tirade finished, there was a shifting of fabric as Riza presumably sat back down on the bench.
Roy blinked, although there was no need to clear to his vision. "Ah," he said as he fumbled around for the bench, finally taking a seat again. He let out an embarrassed sigh and a helpless smile, simply from imagining her expression.
"That's one of the things I'm going to miss the most."
"Sir?"
He brought up his fingers to frame his eyes and tried to turn in the direction of her voice. "The looks. Those looks that you give me when I'm being a complete idiot. I wish I could see what your face looks like right now, because I am definitely being an idiot." He lowered his arms, but was mildly surprised when she grasped his hands in her own.
She drew him closer and then beneath his palms and fingertips, was smooth skin. "Here. Take a look. Take as long as you need."
The faintest hint of heat ran through his face from the unexpected sentimentality. Carefully, he brought his fingers up to her eyes. He felt her eyelids fluttered beneath his touch, brushing her eyelashes against his own skin. Moving his hand up to her brow, he expected to find a small furrow, but everything was smooth.
Tracing the edge of her jaw, he caught a strand of her hair and let it slip through his fingers before gently sweeping his fingertips against her mouth. It was curved slightly upwards in a smile.
Completely drawn into the moment, he pulled her forward into a tight embrace, his face buried against the sweater that covered her shoulder.
"I promise I won't let go. I'll find some way to make it to the top and I'd like to take you with me. Will you stay beside me, guiding me like you always have?"
"For now and forever," she replied, warmth in her voice. "And I won't hesitate to shoot you if you stray from the path."
"And then perhaps, at the end of it all, when we are tired of everything, would you…?" He stopped himself. One step at a time.
With that revelation, he pulled out of the hug and stood. "Shall we head back?" He extended an arm, much like a gentleman of old. "If you would be so kind as to make sure I don't walk into anything."
"Of course, sir." There was some scuffling as she rose to her feet and took the crook of his elbow. "This way."
As they slowly walked back into the hospital, Roy was struck with a sudden inspiration. "Remind me in the morning to have the others bring over some books about Ishvalan policy and culture brought in tomorrow. And call in the rest of the troops – I'm going to need a lot of readers." He chuckled to himself.
Every journey had to start somewhere.
A/N: I absolutely love Full Metal Alchemist - the blend of drama, mystery, and romance just hits home for me. Not to mention that it's mildly steampunk, with an interesting technical blend. I recently re-watched Brotherhood and this little one-shot got stuck in my head. I hope you enjoyed!