Disclaimer: I only have one thing to say: I DO NOT OWN FMA. The cow does! But I own the most kick ass oc in my own little make believe world, the main point of view.

One experience I never had wanted to face: Jean Havoc's death. Most of my life there had been tons of blood and deaths.

But never like this.

It was much worse when he died.

Roy was just trying to explain what happened in Ishbal.

The war that made the course of my life change. Dramatically.

"I-I killed the Rockbells." Roy confessed, hanging his head down, looking at the cup of tea in his hands. I couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

"What?" Suddenly it was hard to breathe. The close confined space in my little military issued apartment seemed like it was closing in, making my claustrophobia worsen. I couldn't handle being close with someone who had killed my adoptive parents.

Hell, I couldn't even live with myself-killing all those people up at Briggs.

My hands began to tremble, shaking the tea cup.

"I'm really sorry, Hawkeye. I-I wish it never happened. Miss Rockbell already knew-"

"YOU TOLD WINRY, BUT NOT ME?" I stood up, slamming the tea cup down-breaking it. Brown tea sloshed onto the floor, staining it.

"I didn't mean to, Hawkeye! I had really wanted to tell you first, but Hughes-"

I shut him up, by jumping at him, hands out and ready to strangle. I had adrenaline surging through my veins, ready for the kill.

We both tumbled to the ground, my slender hands around his neck. Roy laid there, waiting to die. I was surprised he hadn't thrown me off-I was defiantly a third of his weight, due to my lack of eating and obsessive exercising. His midnight blue eyes had slowly started to close, my hands crushing his wind pipe.

Suddenly I heard a "Sir!" and was thrown off of Mustang. A muscled body pinned me against the wall. Upon impact, the picture frame had crashed from its spot on the wall, onto my head. Glass splintered my skin, cutting it open. It didn't matter to me that I was bleeding. I still felt the need of spilling Roy's blood, in place for the Rockbell's.

Jean tried to keep me pinned, but couldn't.

I grabbed a piece of glass and shoved it into his body. I didn't know where, but all I knew was he began to bleed.

Badly.

"Sazha… Don't…" I stopped, feeling his heartbeat quicken. Time slowed, as I looked down. Blood had poured from the wound on his chest, saturating his white shirt.

He was bleeding from the heart.

"JEAN!" I tried to scream, but my words were caught in my throat. I had no idea that I was going to do. Roy had gotten up, and stumbled over to us-his neck red.

Both Jean and I were covered in blood. Slowly I felt his body turn cold.

So cold.

Roy had pulled me out from under Jean and started to hold me to his chest, smoothing down my hair.

I couldn't feel my body, or Mustang.

Nothing.

Not a lot of people had come to his funeral. Mustang, my aunt Riza, Jean's best friend Breda, Fuery, Falman, a couple other higher-ups, the Fuhrer, and Havoc's mother.

The porters carried his coffin, gently dropping it into the already dug hole.

Everyone had heard that he got in a car crash, and was burned to a crisp.

It was partly true.

After a few hours, Roy decided-I still couldn't think- that it would be more likely if Havoc had gotten in a car accident.

Roy planned it all. From driving the car out of town, to using his Alchemy to destroy the car, and Havoc's body.

I didn't go to his funeral, and quickly regretted it.

Breda pounded on the door, fist tightly closed. I turned from my position-laying on my left shoulder, facing the couch- to facing the window.

"I know you're in there, sir. Open up." By his tone, I realized he wasn't in a happy mood, but wasn't in a sad one either.

I stayed there, staring into nothing.

"You're making a bad decision, sir." Breda yelled, throwing the door open. His orange hair was slicked back, and his long formal robe, buttoned. The lieutenant stomped over to me and pulled me off the couch, my body limp. Breda's dark eyes clouded with anger.

"This isn't good on your side, Sazha. First you missed a week of work, claiming you're too sick to come. Next you dodge Havoc's funeral! Something's up, Sazzy, and I want to know what!" I looked up, eyes like death.

"I killed him."