As much as I wished I owned FMA, I don't. The original plot line and all characters outside of my OC belong to Hiromu Arakawa.
The dark haired man sat next to the hospital bed looking every bit his rank but none of his age, the youngest Colonel in the history of the Amestrian military at only 28 years old, fisting the deep blue material of his uniform pant leg in his hand as his feet bounced up and down off the floor. The child, a girl who he thought had not truly been a child in years, laid on the bed in front of him, her eyes closed, still unconscious after the ordeal. The doctor said she would wake in her own time, that her body was healing, but she would be fine. He wanted to believe him.
The man turned to the door as he heard a pair of footsteps stop just inside the room. "They won't let you stay another night, Sir. Besides, it would be best for you to head home, shower and get a good night's rest."
He looked up with tired eyes at the blonde woman who had entered the room. Her amber eyes were soft, not an expression he was accustomed to seeing from his dedicated First Lieutenant, but one he was familiar with on occassion. Running his fingers back through his hair, he replied, "I guess you're right."
"It's not your fault, Colonel."
"But it is. It is in so many ways."
"You mean Ishval."
It was a statement, not a question, and their eyes met again. "Let's go."
"Yes, Sir."
He stood and watched his work as the buildings collapsed and dark smoke circulated through the air. No one said a word. What could they say? What could he say? These were their orders, his orders. This would effectively end the Ishvalan War of Extermination. His acts today would soon send their tired soldiers home, but he knew their lives would never be the same.
As the flames died down through part on their own and also his help, he stepped into the wasted inferno, confirming the destruction. His men waited behind, most too stunned to move having been their first time to see the Flame Alchemist at work, others sickened by the smell in the air and the tastes in their mouths. He could not blame them. They were not the ones who were around it day in and day out as he was. They did not have the luxury of immunity.
A final building that had yet to completely burn caught his eye, and he walked toward it carefully surveying the damage before a sound drew his attention inside. His heart quickened his pace as he took on a defensive, throwing back the ragged curtain on the door and stepping over the threshold. He saw nothing of significance when he looked around, but there was that sound once more. He followed it into a separate room where he froze to the spot at the sight before him.
Swallowing the bile that rose to the back of his throat, he stared at a small girl who gathered herself tight into a corner, her wide, red eyes watching him intently. He wanted to scream. He had his orders, exterminate the Ishvalan race, none in his path would be allowed to live, so why did fate drop a child right in front of him? How could he take this innocent life? His alchemy left him privledged to the fact that he did not always have the view of his victims' faces, but when he did, they had never been children. They had been grown men, warrior monks who tried to ambush their encampment the week before. There had even been an old friend from the academy a few years prior.
The room around him now grew silent, as if nothing else existed around him except the girl. Their eyes held each others, her's searching his for answers and his begging hers to forgive him for what he had to do. The time stretched on for what could have been hours, but in reality lasted only less than a minute. His gloves were once more in position, but his fingers refused to move. He shook from adrenaline, frustration, and hatred for what he had become, and he could not do it.
He lowered his hands and trudged ahead until he stood right above her. Kneeling down to her level, he noticed her shrink back, only natural to do such a thing given the circumstances, and sighed. "Are you hurt?"
There was no reply for a moment, but he intended to wait until she finally shook her head. He had no way of telling whether she told him the truth or not, her tanned skin being plastered with dirt and the usual white hair of her race being stained with soot and grime, but he yielded her answer.
"Do you think you can stand?"
He kept his voice soft as he spoke as to not startle her into a panic, and he found himself relieved when she confirmed she could. He watched as she slowly got to her feet, praying that his men indeed stayed behind and had not followed him into the aftermath. How long had he been gone now?
"Good. Now go. Get out of here and run as far to the east as you can. This war will be over very soon. Right now, you'll have a clear path to escape."
The girl narrowed her eyes questioning his motives, wondering if he would indeed kill her either way. She took a small step toward the door before asking, "But why?"
"Because I have the opportunity to make a difference. The death of a child started this war and the life of a child will end it. Now go. Don't stop running until you no longer smell or see the smoke."
He opened his eyes and sighed. There would be no chance of going back to sleep tonight. It had been so long since he had had any dreams of Ishval, not since Bria had come to live with him. Now that she was in the hospital, Roy Mustang, the 'hero of Ishval' dreamt again, and the dreams were worse than they were before. His brow was covered in sweat and the sheets were soaked as he kicked the comforter off of his body and onto the floor.
Maes Hughes crossed his mind, his best friend from the academy days who had become more of a brother to him when they ran back into each other during the war. He always had the best advice in any given situation, but calling in the middle of the night would not be the best idea. After all, his daughter Elicia had recently turned two, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake her and keep Gracia, Maes's wife up all night again.
Taking another deep breath, Roy stood and made his way to the small bathroom in the hall. A quick shower would do him good as the lieutenant had said, and now, he really did need it. Bria would be upset. The past few days, weeks even, he had neglected his own self-care. It was a wonder that Hawkeye had only now said something to him.
Did he blame himself? Of course. Who else was there to blame? If he had only... His fist hit the shower wall, and he shook it as a sharp pain coursed up his right arm.
"Dammit!"
The steaming water poured down over his shoulders and down his back as he cradled his fist in his other hand. Sure that it was not broken, he turned off the tap and stepped out, drying off and wrapping the towel around his waist. There was no point in staying there, he decided. Grabbing one of his uniforms, he quickly dressed, donned his trademark gloves and left his house, driving to Eastern Headquarters.
One in the morning. Five and a half hours before First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye would appear, six hours before Warrant Officer Vato Falman and Master Seargent Kain Fuery, six and a half hours before Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda, and six hours and 34 minutes before Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. Visiting hours began at 1000 hours, and he had plenty of paperwork to catch up on after spending three days straight at Bria's bedside much to the dislike of the hospital staff and their stupid visitation policies. Being a Colonel only went so far however, and the moment she was out of critical condition, his rank could no longer be pulled. Besides, if he did not start on the paperwork that was piled up now, there was a chance he would be buried underneath it by the next morning.
It was something to get his mind off of other things at least, and he worked on it for the first time quite diligently without being under the first lieutenant's watchful eye. In fact, he had already made it through three whole stacks before she arrived, surprise etched on her face in only a way he would be able to tell before her expression returned to its neutral facade.
"You're here early, Colonel."
"If you remember correctly, I'm actually on time, but I could say the same for you, Lieutenant."
Riza removed her coat and hung it on the rack before replying. "I'm no earlier than my usual, Sir."
"Is that so?" Roy stole another glance up at her as he smirked playfully in her direction.
She caught it and shook her head. "You would have realized if you always arrived on time. Your work day starts at 0600, Sir, but you never arrive until at least 0630."
"Does it make sense to you that I would arrive before my bodyguard? We should arrive together."
"We would if you showed up when you were supposed to." Riza looked at him with a more serious expression on her face as she made her way to his desk. "Did you get any sleep, Colonel?"
Roy's face dropped again, and he shook his head as the conversation turned to a more serious tone. "Some but I can't stop thinking about it. She should be dead. So many times, she should be dead."
"But she's not. There must be a reason for it. Don't question what is. It does you no good to wonder 'what if.'"
"I do wonder though." Roy stood from the chair behind his desk and turned to face the window behind him that overlooked the grounds. "Do you know what would happen to her if the wrong people found out? I didn't protect her then only to hurt her now, but she's lying in a hospital bed, and I can't do anything! I'm more useless now than I am even on rainy days."
"You never did like the water," Riza replied with a gentle smile, an old memory in mind. "Colonel, even you know you're not completely useless on rainy days. I may not know much about alchemy, but I do know some. Water is made up of two parts hydrogen. Remove the oxygen and you have flammable gas. It may not be practical in an open space as it would be difficult to control, but your alchemy is still in play. You're doing what you can with the situation you've been given. Some things aren't practical for you to do, such as staying in the hospital 24 hours a day, but that doesn't make you useless because you can't."
The office was silent as Roy continued to stare out the window and Riza kept her eyes on him. He swallowed hard before grasping his hands behind his back and turning to face the lieutenant, his expression back to business around the office per usual. "As you can see, I've finished these stacks of paperwork already. I should be able to finish the rest of these by tomorrow morning."
Catching on, Riza added, "Of course, Sir, however, I shouldn't need to remind you that by 0900, your desk will be filled with at least another full stack of paperwork to be completed by the end of the week."
"But that's in two days!"
"Then don't put it off, Sir."
Roy's shoulders sagged as he pouted and went around to the front of his desk. "I have a meeting at 1000, Lieutenant. I've been told it will go all day. I'll get what I can done by then."
Sighing, Riza took the seat at her own desk after grabbing one of the stacks and a pen. "Then it's a good thing that I do happen to come in earlier than ordered, isn't it?"
"Heh." Roy grabbed another stack of his own and reseated himself at his desk. Quietly, but so she could hear, he replied, "Thank you."
A/N: Please leave a review, love or hate. They make me happy. :)
