Hey guys! This is my first attempt at an FMA fic. I hope y'all like it!

It can really be set any time post-Ishval and on. I like to think of it as post-Promised day, but whatever floats your boat is acceptable!

Also, this fic is titled what it is mostly because I'm terrible at thinking up titles. I apologize.

Disclaimer: I own effectively nothing. Not even the cover photo. I just decided on the order in which to put the letters.

OooOooO

Left…right…left…right…left…right…

He was pacing again. Eyes locked on the ground, he focused intently on landing his scuffed boot within the pristine white confines of an individual tile with each step he took.

He received sidelong glances from every doctor and nurse that passed by. They were familiar enough with the famed Flame Alchemist to know not to ask him if he was okay. He wasn't okay. How could he be okay?

The Colonel's pace faltered almost imperceptibly as his thoughts strayed to the events of that day. The all-too-familiar taste of ash in the air. The deafening sound of gunshots ringing out on all sides. The startling impact of a warm body knocking him to the ground. The sickening and terrifying realization that her blood was seeping through his gloves.

Roy Mustang shook his head as if to clear the thoughts that had invaded his mind. With a slight grunt he cast his eyes downward and attempted to concentrate solely on his pacing. He couldn't think about that now. He had been torturing himself for the past month, and he knew that the mere memory of her blood on his hands would open the doors for more emotions than he was capable of concealing.

Left…right…left…right…left—

The sound of a door opening shattered the Colonel's tenuous concentration.

"Alrighty, it's safe to enter!" The smiling nurse told him, holding open the door. "She's just finishing up getting dressed, but afterwards she's free to go!"

Roy nodded his thanks before swiftly entering the room. He had a feeling that his attempts to conceal his desperation weren't fooling anyone. He couldn't help it, though—he needed to see her, to know that she was still breathing. Being separated from his Lieutenant made him feel like he was submerged underwater: useless, helpless, without oxygen.

He saw her before she saw him. She was sitting on the edge of her bed with her back to the door, struggling valiantly to pull on the boots that he had brought her. She was wearing dark sweatpants and one of his dark blue button-down shirts. The shirt dwarfed her and looked strangely mismatched with the pants, but he had figured that comfort should outweigh fashion when checking out of the hospital. And Roy thought she looked beautiful regardless.

Roy watched as Riza Hawkeye grunted in frustration, unable to bend down to pull on her shoes without her injury tugging painfully. She carefully reached up to tuck her hair back behind her ear. Roy felt a pang in his chest when he realized that she probably couldn't reach up to put her hair in its customary clip without hurting herself further.

He allowed the door to close quietly and stepped fully into the room.

Taking pity on her, Roy spoke up: "Need some help with that?"

Hawkeye jumped up, startled. Upon seeing her commanding officer she went to salute.

"Colonel Mustang—"

Whatever Hawkeye was about to say was replaced by the hiss of pain that accompanied her feeble attempt to raise her hand all the way to her brow. Her eyes screwed shut and her other hand flew to the bandages covering her lower right abdomen.

Roy stepped forwarded and steadied her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and helping her sit back down on the bed.

He felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest knowing that she was in pain. Knowing that it was his fault.

"God, Hawkeye. Think a little, would you?" He hated how harsh his words sounded. "One more salute like that and you'll be here for another month."

Hawkeye humored his pathetic attempt to lighten the mood with a slight smile. To anyone else it would have been imperceptible, but it made Roy feel like he was flying.

"Sorry, sir. You know what they say about old habits."

Roy eyed his First Lieutenant critically. He noted how she was still clutching at her side.

"Are you sure you're ready to leave, Lieutenant? There's no rush."

"Positive, sir," Hawkeye replied immediately, reaching for her boots once again. "Besides, I think I've left your back unguarded for long enough."

Roy flinched at that. How can she possibly say that after what just happened?

Ooo Flashback ooO

This wasn't supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a nonviolent mission.

Roy Mustang's mind was racing as he ducked behind a low wall, taking shelter from the hail of bullets showering down on him and his team. A light pressure against his back told him of his faithful First Lieutenant's presence. He had always been bad at protecting his back. That's where she came in.

Hawkeye updated him on his team's whereabouts: "Havoc and Breda are taking shelter behind those columns at your 11 o'clock. I can't see Fuery or Falman so they're probably still hidden in the tower at 3 o'clock."

Roy nodded curtly, simultaneously realizing that she couldn't see the action and that she didn't have to. She would know that he had heard. Somehow she always knew when it came to him.

The Colonel took a deep breath before peeking over the wall. With a snap of his fingers he created a wall of fire that cut off a couple of their assailants from his two men behind the pillars. A pair of hands roughly grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back behind the wall, just in time to avoid the volley of bullets aimed right at his head.

Mustang grinned sheepishly at his second. "Thanks for that."

She gave no indication of having heard him, her sharp eyes already scanning the nearby rooftops for snipers. He knew that she had regardless. He always knew when it came to her.

After a few moments of silence he felt Hawkeye tense up behind him.

"What is it?" He asked, turning his head slightly. To turn completely would be to leave his Lieutenant's back exposed. He was not willing to do that.

"Three bogeys, sir. Headed for the building where Fuery and Falman are holed up." Hawkeye managed to keep her voice steady in spite of the obvious tension in her body.

Mustang cursed under his breath. If his men were caught unawares they wouldn't stand a chance. It took him fewer than five seconds to decide his course of action.

"I've got it. Cover me, Lieutenant." He declared.

He was gone before Hawkeye had a chance to object, darting across the treacherous open space towards the building half a block down. Roy's eyes locked on the insurgents almost immediately. Right before they entered the building he snapped his fingers, sending a rush of flames barreling towards them. He knew instantly that they were either dead or mortally wounded. He didn't stop, though, choosing to seek shelter inside the same building as his men instead of returning to the wall.

He wasn't quite halfway there when he heard the sound of a shot and felt something collide with him, knocking him to the ground.

The Colonel quickly realized what happened. Or at least he thought he did.

"That's two I owe you, Lieutenant." He said, positive that it had been Hawkeye who had knocked him out of harms way.

Another shot and a triumphant shout from Havoc told him that his assailant had been dealt with.

"Okay, Hawkeye. Looks like we're clear." He spoke up once again, wondering why his Lieutenant hadn't gotten up from her position sprawled across his back.

The uneasy feeling that had been growing since the moment he was tackled morphed into full on panic when she didn't respond.

"Lieutenant?" Oh no. No no no no no. Please.

Mustang carefully extricated himself from underneath his Lieutenant. He rolled over onto his back, sat up, and felt his heart drop to his toes.

Hawkeye was lying on her stomach, still as death, in a quickly growing puddle of her own blood.

"Lieutenant!" Mustang shouted, his voice thick with emotion. He scrambled to her side and froze, torn between his desire to hold her and his worry over inflicting further injury by moving her.

"Havoc! Breda! Get some help, Hawkeye is down!" He yelled as loudly as he could, refusing to take his eyes off the woman before him.

He only vaguely realized that Havoc yelled something in response as his attention was now fully on his fallen second. There was no blood on her back; it was all on the ground below her. Mustang made a decision and took her shoulders, rolling her into his lap as gently as he could.

"Oh god" This can't be happening. Not her. Please not her.

Her front was drenched in blood. Roy felt panic threaten to overtake him and squashed it down as best he could.

"Lieutenant!" Her eyes were closed and she made no indication of hearing him. "Dammit, Riza! Answer me!"

Fear gripped his heart as he used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves. The metallic tang of blood invaded his mouth and he wanted to vomit—yet another sensation for him to quash. He raised a shaking hand to her neck to feel for a pulse.

The four seconds it took for him to feel the telltale beat of her heart were the longest of his life.

Infused with purpose, Roy ripped off his jacket and pushed it against her wound. The bullet had entered through her lower right abdomen at an odd angle. There was no exit wound.

Hawkeye groaned at the pressure of the rough fabric. It was the most beautiful sound Roy had ever heard.

"Come on, Hawkeye. Stay with me. You're not allowed to die, remember?" The Colonel would never know how his voice stayed so strong when he was falling apart inside.

"Colonel, look. Her head." Roy dully registered the voice of Kain Fuery. He looked up and saw that the younger man was on his knees on the other side of his fallen Lieutenant. Vato Falman stood just behind him, concern etched across his face.

When did they get here? Mustang wondered mildly.

"It looks like she hit her head." Fuery continued when the Colonel made no move to address his concern.

Mustang returned his attention to his Lieutenant. His cursed when he realized that his Sargent was right—a steady trail of blood was seeping from Hawkeye's hairline.

She must have hit her head on the road when she fell… Roy realized, his stomach clenching.

"It was for me. The shot was meant for me. God, Hawkeye. What did you do that for?" Roy murmured. His men watched as he rapidly succumbed to his growing desperation.

I'm not worth this.

She couldn't die. She wouldn't. It didn't make sense. Equivalent exchange would not allow it. Her life was worth so much more than his.

"Come on Hawkeye, open your eyes." Roy begged.

"Colonel, the paramedics are here." Havoc's voice came from behind him, accompanied by the heavy footsteps of three other men.

Mustang ripped his gaze from his Lieutenant and eyed the paramedics. He drew Hawkeye closer to him protectively.

"You've got to let her go, Colonel. She needs help." Fuery told him softly, sensing his hesitation.

Roy was numb as the paramedics flocked him, gently prying the prone form of his Lieutenant from his arms.

The absence of her body heat did nothing if not add to his panic. Before he knew what was happening she was gone, whisked away to the hospital. He had never felt more alone.

"Let's go, Colonel. We'll meet up with Hawkeye at the hospital." Havoc's forced optimism contradicted the fearful paleness of his face.

Roy didn't move. He was in shock. He had become captivated by the blood that covered the front of his shirt and his hands.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

After a few moments he rose on unsteady feet. He spoke with confidence that he didn't know he possessed.

"She'll be alright. She has to be."

Ooo End Flashback ooO

Riza Hawkeye eyed her commanding officer critically. He had adopted a distant, pained expression that she had become all too familiar with in the three weeks since she woke up in the hospital. He was thinking about it again, she knew. No matter what she said he kept thinking about it.

Roy exhaled heavily and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. He plastered a smile on his face that Riza knew wasn't even close to genuine.

"I don't think you'll be fit to watch my back for a while yet, Lieutenant. It's desk duty for you for a long time—once you come back, that is."

Any argument that Hawkeye may have had died when she saw the thinly-veiled pain in his eyes.

"Now let's get you out of here."

The Colonel sat across from her and grabbed her boot. He took her foot and gently helped her get her shoes on. His eyes were cast downwards as he worked on the laces, but Riza could still see the sadness in them. She didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant." His voice was so quiet she almost missed it. His eyes were on the ground.

"Sir?" Hawkeye questioned, both confused and worried for her Colonel.

"I'm sorry that this happened to you." Roy moved to her other boot, still refusing to meet her gaze. "This…this shouldn't have happened."

Riza's heart tugged painfully at the sadness and remorse evident in his voice.

"This wasn't your fault, Colonel. This was my choice." She told him gently.

"Your choice to follow me. Your choice to dive in front of a bullet meant for me." The Colonel's hands were shaking slightly as he laced up her boot. Riza felt herself crack a little more.

"It's my job," Riza said simply, "Even into Hell, remember?"

Mustang was quiet for a moment. He had finished tying the laces of her boot but he maintained his grip on her shoe.

"You can't die for me." He told her seriously.

"I have no intention of dying for you, sir. But I've sworn to protect you. If the time comes when—"

"No." Roy's voice was quiet yet firm when he cut her off.

He finally looked up from his task to stare her in the eyes. Instantly Riza wished he hadn't. His eyes were full of anguish, regret and uncertainty—traits she never wanted to associate with her Colonel—and it tore her apart.

"You can't die for me. I can't…I don't know how…I can't lose you." He was practically whispering. He had severed eye contact with her at his admission. "I don't know how to do this without you."

Riza felt tears begin to well up in her eyes and shooed them away angrily. She wouldn't cry—not in front of her commander. There was a part of her that desperately wanted to crawl back under the covers of her bed and stay there. The Colonel was toeing an unspoken yet ubiquitous line—one that, if crossed, would open the door to feelings she was not ready to deal with.

"Colonel…" Her emotions won an internal struggle against logic and she reached down and grabbed his hand, wincing at the slight pull on her side. The Colonel's gaze floated back to meet hers at the contact. She hadn't been this close to the line in a very long time. "You and your dream…that's what drives me. I have no regrets. If my death means your life or the realization of all that we've worked for then I'll die happily."

The Colonel's eyes flashed with an unexpected anger. He stood, dropping Riza's hand and turning away from her. His hand combed through his hair in agitation.

"Dammit, Riza. Don't you get it?" Riza flinched, both at his tone and at the uncharacteristic use of her first name. "I don't want you to die for me. I want you to live for me!"

Riza stared at him in silent shock, completely clueless as to how to respond. They had definitely crossed the line now.

Roy walked over to her window and leaned against the frame. He was breathing heavily. Suddenly Riza could see just how much the past month had taken its toll on him.

He had always been there. He was there when she woke up from her weeklong coma, crying out at the pain radiating from her shredded insides. He was there throughout the remainder of her three weeklong hospital stay. He came in the morning, right as soon as visiting hours started, and didn't leave until the nurses ushered him out. Only occasionally would he leave during the day to drop by the office. Three times she woke up in the middle of the night to find him at her bedside. When she asked him he said that he couldn't sleep. She knew that meant that he had a nightmare and needed to see for himself that she was alive.

Riza had never thought about what it would be like for him if she had died. Suddenly she really didn't want to know.

Riza stood up quietly. Yet another internal battle was being waged inside of her. Well if we're going to cross that line we may as well go ahead and really cross it. She decided.

Her footfalls were quiet against the tiled floor as she approached the Colonel. After a moment of hesitation she wrapped her arms around his waist and allowed her cheek to rest against his back. Roy first tensed at the contact but relaxed once he realized what was happening.

"I'm sorry." She murmured into his back.

Riza's mind was racing. She began to wonder how she would feel if their places were reversed—if Roy had almost died saving her. She didn't know if she could handle it. As much as Riza wanted to say that the grief and guilt would stem purely from a place of professionalism—it was, after all, her job to protect him—she knew that it was much deeper than that. They were more than that.

"I'm so sorry I put you through this."

Roy deflated at her heartbroken apology. He sighed heavily and turned in her embrace, bringing up a hand to guide her head onto his shoulder. The top of her hair brushed against his cheek.

Riza held her breath when she felt Roy's lips ghost over her forehead. He planted a light kiss over her left eye.

"I don't want you to be sorry." He had adopted a low, gentle tone once again. "I just…need you to be okay."

Riza nodded against him. Emotions flooded her, leaving her lost for words.

"If you really want what's best for me, Hawkeye, I need you to promise. Promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to stay alive—no matter what. I don't…" His voice broke under the weight of his emotion and Riza gripped him tighter, "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

"I promise." Riza whispered. She knew a long time ago that she would do anything for this man. At the time she thought that meant dying for him. Somehow this seemed harder.

Roy drew her impossibly closer to him and buried his face in her hair. They stood like that for a long time. Reveling in their rare moment of intimacy. Reassuring themselves that the other was still breathing.

"But you have to promise me, too." Riza said suddenly.

Roy pulled away slightly to look at her quizzically.

"If I'm going to live for you, you have to live for me. No diving in front of bullets or offering yourself up in my place—if I can't do that neither can you."

The Colonel opened his mouth to object but Riza shut him down.

"No, the fact that you're my commanding officer does not make you responsible for my safety. Not like this, anyways. If you died for me…" Riza suddenly felt the same weight of emotion that Roy had just moments earlier. "If you died for me…" She tore her eyes from his and leant her forehead against his clavicle. "It would kill me. Maybe literally. You can't put me through that. Not ever."

"Okay." Roy spoke after a moment.

Riza glanced up at him. "Okay?" She needed to hear the words.

"I promise, Riza."

As Riza allowed herself to relax against Roy once again she caught herself smiling one of her rare, genuine smiles. It was nice to have someone to live for.

OooOooO

Oh man this feels so cheesy. So cheesy and fluffy. I really hope it was enjoyable, though! Y'all like cheesy, fluffy fics, right?

This just popped into my head and I wrote it down. I wasn't really planning on posting it, but I kind of figured why not? I'm sorry if this is OOC. Like I said, this is my first attempt at FMA so I'm still working towards understanding the characters. In addition I'm sups awkward writing romance. Which is why this is really just heavily implied romance…

I'm not sure if this is my first of many FMA fics or if this is a one off type thing. A lot will depend on how this is received. I won't feel fantastically inclined to continue writing for this fandom if I'm no good at it.

So please let me know what you think! Reviews mean the world to me. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated