Immensely Close, Infinitely Distant

A/N: Inspired 100 percent by the Script's "Nothing".

"Buzzed" was quite a ways back, Roy knew. "Sober", he couldn't even remember the feeling of at the moment.

Not that he really wanted to. He didn't really want to remember any feeling at the moment, especially not the one where his heart was being ripped out and shredded before his very eyes as those most precious to him were wrenched from his grasp.

Chris gave him a disapproving look when he asked for another drink. "No more for you tonight. I know it's not easy, but you need to learn to get along, or soon there'll be nobody to get along with, least of all yourself."

So, grudgingly, Roy had dragged himself from the bar to a nearby park.

A sheet of newspaper blew by, and Roy caught it, contemplating it for a moment. He fished in his pocket for a pen. If he couldn't see her, he could at least write her…

No. No he couldn't. It was a stupid idea. And really, on newspaper? How drunk are you, anyway?

Not drunk enough to forget or not care, apparently.

God, and he'd promised her that this would never happen again after Ishval. Whether or not she was gone for good, he felt miserable for breaking his promise behind her back. He felt miserable for letting this happen in the first place, for letting her ever get involved, for even thinking…

Hey!

Roy's head snapped up. Great, just wonderful. As if things weren't bad enough, now he was hearing his dead best friend's voice. "What do you want, Maes?" he mumbled sullenly.

I want you not to mope. I know it's easier said than done, Roy, but you're an idiot if you think mourning's going to help. Nobody's dead, and even if that does happen, you're going to have to go on. No matter what, you can't let any sacrifice be in vain. I will haunt you to the next world and beyond if you do.

"You already haunt me. What's the difference?"

You don't want to find out.

No, no he really didn't.

Riza sighed, resting her chin in her hands. She didn't feel like doing anything anymore. What was the point, really? The homunculi had just dashed every single dream she'd ever had of a better Amestris.

I should never have said anything. I should never have joined the military, never have shown him Flame Alchemy, never… If I—he—we hadn't… things might still be bad, but not this bad. I just wish…

There was really only one way she could see this never having happened, and it made her so unhappy she thought she might be ill.

I just wish I'd never existed.

Hayate padded over and nudged his mistress's leg, whining. He planted his paws on the side of the chair and stretched up to set his muzzle in her lap.

Riza brought a hand down to pat her companion on the head. At least she had someone to come home to. If anything, she was more worried for Roy than for herself. If anything happened to any of them, he'd never forgive himself.

What she wasn't sure he realized was that if anything happened to him, not only would she not forgive herself, but she'd never forgive him, either. It was her choices, and her choices alone, that had brought her to where she was, and by the same token, it was his choices that had brought him to where he was.

The only thing they could do was keep on fighting.

Roy wandered vaguely down the street. A jangling from his pocket gave him another idea.

A call. A friendly call between two co-workers who no longer worked in the same department. Just the usual pleasantries, nothing more.

You're a horrible liar. Even you don't believe yourself. And if she knew just what state you're in, what do you think it would do to her?

He just wanted to hear her voice again. He was so used to it, used to her quiet presence. He'd always known that this was a risk, that at anytime, their precariously beautiful world could be shattered; he'd just never wanted to believe it would ever really happen. But shattered, it had been, and if they didn't pick up the pieces, nothing would ever be right with the world again. Nothing that mattered, anyway.

Roy forced his feet to carry him past the phone booth he'd stopped in front of, memories of Maes serving to remind him that if he knew their situation was unsafe now, it could still get worse, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted for any of them.

I can't do anything. I might as well go home.

No matter what had changed, Hayate needed to be walked.

Perhaps it would help take her mind off things, anyway.

She grabbed her keys and coat and the leash, hooking the latter onto Hayate's collar as he trotted to her, trying to look happy. Pausing only to lock the door, the two hurried down the stairwell, eager to put the day's events out of mind for at least a little while.

It didn't take long to figure out that that wouldn't be possible, but, still, it was necessary, and whatever routines she could hold onto certainly wouldn't hurt. So, as always, she carried on.

She didn't see an all-too-familiar figure stumbling slowly in the direction of her building, and, really, it was probably for the best.

Roy hardly knew how he'd wound up at her door. If writing and calling had been horribly idiotic ideas, he couldn't find the words for just what sort of an idea this was.

His hand had been poised to knock for the better part of five minutes. Now, he slowly willed his hand forward, knuckles tapping the door almost imperceptibly at first. He flicked his wrist again, rapping too sharply this time. He cursed and sucked on his fingers, then listened. Hayate wasn't barking. Either the dog was asleep (as was Riza, or possibly, she somehow knew it was him and was ignoring him with far more willpower than he had at the moment), or Riza had taken him for a walk.

He almost hoped it was the former—knowing she could get on with her life would in some sense make getting on with his that much easier.

Still…

He grabbed a crumpled receipt and a pen from his pockets and scribbled a note, slid it under the door, and walked away as quickly and as quietly as he could manage.

Riza returned to her apartment a half-hour later.

Hayate sniffed at the door a little more than usual, putting Riza on alert. It hadn't even been six hours, and already, she'd done something wrong? She put her ear to the door, and checked for shafts of light from the bottom. Slowly, she inserted her key in the lock and turned it gingerly, then pushed open the door as lightly as she could, reach in to turn on the light before all else.

Immediately, Hayate shot forward, snatching something off the floor. He delivered it into Riza's hand when she ordered him to leave it. It took only a moment to figure out what it was. Oh, no…

I really shouldn't be here, even though you're either out or ignoring me. You always were the better of us, always my better half. They wanted me to be desperate, and they've succeeded. I'd give anything. I'm sorry—this is a bad idea, but I had to. I'll see you around. —Roy

Why? Why did he have to do this to both of them? Of course, it wasn't really his fault that homunculi were smart and well-organized for the most part, but this wasn't going to be easy on either of them, and they knew it. He'd probably gone out and gotten drunk… Riza sighed, her fists clench, her whole body shaking just slightly.

She crumpled the note in her hand and cast it into the wastebasket before marching into her room and changing for bed, but as soon as she pulled the sheets over herself, it was as if all the fight went out of her. She couldn't help but wonder whether this was a war they really could win.

This wasn't the first night that question would keep her up, and by now, she was sure that it wouldn't be the last.

Both had woken the next morning bleary-eyed after perhaps a few hours' sleep each. Roy had barely managed to find a decently clean, mostly unrumpled dress shirt, and Riza had forgotten to hang her coat properly.

Both had raced to Central HQ just in time. King Bradley hardly seemed to mind—in fact, he seemed almost surprised that Riza had shown up at all. It wasn't as though there was a shortage of work, however; she was dispatched to deliver various reports to several offices.

She had just finished and was heading back when she saw Roy heading towards her in the hallway. As they drew closer, each could see the other's half-longing, half-terrified expression that much more clearly. They passed with the softest of formalities, and then, in their habit of doing things as one, each cast a glance over their shoulder at the other.

And then it hit both of them, just how hopeless all of this could so easily turn out to be, when all they wanted to do was go back to simpler times. Still, it was hard not to want it; so very hard when they were so very close and yet even farther apart.

But what terrified them the most was the notion that this had a very real chance at being the rest of their lives.

A/N: I don't know if this will surprise anyone, but it started off basically as just me exploring Roy's mope-y-ness. And then Riza wanted in on the action, and it just took off from there.

Not my best work, but I really wanted to write it, since it left such a vivid image in my head. It's probably bordering-on-emo angsty, and that might have made it a little OOC.

As always, your thoughts are much appreciated. :)