The sounds or war raged around them. The sounds of men dying, the sounds of bullets flying, the sounds of humanity being forgotten. There was no room for mercy or sympathy on this bloody battleground. One could not stop to think for even a second about what he was doing. You had to rely on instincts. If you forgot your instincts, you lost your life.
On the battle field, you are a monster. A murderer. You have no sense of love, no sense of feeling at all. There is only a sense of me and you. You are the enemy, the one I was told to destroy. I am the victor, I will destroy you at all costs.
There were few rules here. Don't die. Don't miss. Don't look back. Don't hesitate. But the most essential rule was: Don't bring your feelings into war. You have no spouses, kids, lovers. There is no such thing.
The reason he lost so much was because she forgot that rule.
He was leaning up against a pile of rubble, blood oozing from a gunshot that had grazed his shoulder. It wasn't enough to stop him, but enough to hinder his attacks. Beside him, a young man and woman were both looking out over the top and firing at the enemy. The man he had never seen before, the woman was a completely different story.
He had known this beautiful woman since she was a child. And now, there positions had been reversed. He was always the one that had been there. During a thunderstorm, he would be the one to hold her close. When her father was having a particularly bad day, he had been the one to take her out for a night on the town. Where her father died, he had arranged everything so she didn't need to lift a finger.
But look at her now. This strong young woman was aiming and killing with deadly precision while he lay on the ground bleeding. The little girl that had come into his room crying on more than one occasion, was now standing over him, protecting him.
Grunting from the combined effort and pain, he pushed himself up and readied his glove. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a second, before returning to firing at her targets. He snapped, and a wall of singed Ishbalans were sent tumbling to the ground. He snapped again, sending a group scattering in all directions.
She stopped to reload her gun. It took less then half a minute, but that was all it took. In a matter of seconds, her bullets stopped firing, and an Ishbalan took aim. In his scope sat the Flame Alchemist, most likely the biggest of their worries. He took a moment to grin in satisfaction and pulled the trigger. Luckily, she had already seen him and turned to dive toward the alchemist. Time seemed to tick by slowly as she crashed into him and sent him flying down into the dust. Something hit her in the chest and she fell with a loud thud beside him.
Seconds went by as he waited for her to stand up, brush the dirt off of her, and return to her shooting. But she didn't. A sudden wave of panic struck him as he noticed a pool of dark liquid began to form around her torso.
"Oh.. God…" He lunged forward to roll her over and lay her head on his lap. "Hawkeye!"
Her eyes were closed, and the life already seemed to be fading from her rosy cheeks. "No... No... No... This can't be happening… This can't be." She was growing cold under his touch. He stared down at her in horror as her breathing slowed dramatically. Then as suddenly as it had happened, she stilled.
He clenched a fist and glared up at the blood-red sky. "No… Riza… Not you." He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a bone chilling scream.
When he opened his eyes, he was faced with darkness of his bedroom. He lay on his back, his forehead beaded with sweat and his fists strangling the sheet beneath him. His breathing was shaky as he lifted a hand and rubbed his face. He tried to swallow, but couldn't. His throat was dry and sore and he wondered if he had actually been screaming in his sleep. As he lay, trying to calm his racing heart, he made a decision. He pushed himself out of bed, grabbed his long raincoat to cover his pajamas, and walked outside.
The sky was a foreboding black and lightning streaked the sky, quickly followed by the crash of thunder. He was oblivious to the slow drizzle of rain that soon turned to a full-blown storm in the time it took him to get to his car and begin driving down the road.
It took him a matter of minutes to pull up in front of the small apartment building he knew the Lieutenant lived in. He raced up the stairs and rapped on the door. Time seemed to slow down once again as he waited fearfully. He knocked again, his heart speeding up. She wasn't answering. Could it be that his dream had been a sign? Something had gone terribly wrong. The Lieutenant was in trouble. As he made the decision to go look for her, the door opened slowly.
"…Sir…?" She blinked against the light in the hall and looked at him curiously. His stance visibly relaxed as he took her in. She looked perfectly fine, despite the half-asleep look in her eyes and a few renegade strands of hair.
"Oh, Lieutenant…" He suddenly wondered what he was going to say.
She didn't need him to say anything. She pulled the door open a bit farther and motioned for him to come in. She offered a cup of tea, but when he turned it down, they sat down on her couch and looked at each other. He looked like a fool, sitting there fidgeting like a child.
"Lieutenant…"
"Nightmare?" She knew the feeling of absolute panic when one woke from a particularly terrifying dream. The war had given her vivid nightmares on more than one occasion. She and Mustang had spent many nights together, conversing about nightmares they had that night or nights before.
He nodded slowly and looked at her hesitantly. "This one was different though…"
"How so?"
He bit his lip. He really didn't want to remember the look on her face as she bled out in his arms but he couldn't help it. The image continued to flash through his brain. "Y-You… Died."
He glanced at her in time to see her stiffen up. Her expression melted and she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm fine, Sir." She murmured.
He shook his head. "You weren't."
"I am now." She smiled softly and watched as he toyed with his hands. Finally, he turned to her and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his embrace and sighed. "See?"
He buried his face into her shoulder and nodded. He couldn't speak, his silence was the only thing keeping his tears at bay.
D'aw. What softies they both can be when they're half-asleep.