It's said that when a person faces death their life flashes before their eyes. Perhaps this is to give them time to repent. Perhaps to allow them to see the err of their ways. Or, perhaps, it's a chance to say good bye. People who are left behind feel the need to say good bye to the dead. A closure that can only come from that final shutting of the door. Perhaps the dying feel the same need. Rather like reading a book from start to finish. What more fitting ending to a life then closing that final cover?
"Riza, I would like you to meet Mr. Roy Mustang. He is going to be studying under me for a while. I would like for you to make him welcome."
The young Riza Hawkeye looked up at the tall stranger. She studied him closely, clearly a bright and adept young woman. His dark eyes took her in as well, studying her reserved expression, the way she held herself. The lovely brown eyes and short cropped hair that didn't quite seem to fit her.
With a slight bow, her father led him away, most likely to show him where he would be boarding for the duration of his apprenticeship. Before closing the door to her own room, she watched them retreat, noticing the strong gait of the man, the pride in the way he kept his shoulders high and squared, posture perfect.
"I don't think I need to warn you that my daughter is off limits." The alchemist said, without looking back at his new student.
"No sir, you do not. I would never think of dishonoring your daughter." Roy assured the elder Hawkeye.
"That girl is everything to me." He said a bit gruffly, as if the words were hard to speak for him. "I would protect her with my life."
Roy glanced back at the door to Riza's room. Then I shall as well.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
A ribbon of pain shot across her throat. Her eyes widened in disbelief as a stick warmth quickly spread down her chest, soaking her shirt. It was suddenly hard to breath. Hard to even think. The sickly hollow drips of her own blood hitting floor echoed so loud in her ears it hurt. She was vaguely aware of the feral yell that came from Mustang, oddly muted behind the scattered drips. She watched as the stone floor suddenly rose up, as if it wanted to slap her in the face.
It wasn't until her shoulder roughly jerked that she realized she was falling to meet the floor, not the other way around. Once again she heard the muted voice of Mustang as pain slammed through her body. The thin cut at her throat had begun to burn now, a deep agony that throbbed. Burning, searing……
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
A sharp, staccato bang resonated within the walls of her little hideaway. It didn't matter if it went further than the decaying tower, at the distance in which she was from her targets, they wouldn't hear it anyway. Pulling back on the bolt, the shell from her last bullet came flying out with an empty metallic 'thung' when it hit the ground near her boot.
The next motion, just as sure and graceful, was to pull out the pistol that nested snugly in her boot, her arm extending behind her. She reverently laid the rifle against her lap then turned to face him.
"You know that it's me. Why do you always point that thing at me?" Roy asked, sitting hard on a crate beside her.
Reaching into the box he placed on his lap, she produced a hunk of bread and tore off a piece with her teeth as she replaced the pistol. It had only been a few days since she'd made her presence in the military known to him. He hadn't known she'd followed him into the military. Into this hellish war. Weither he approved or not, he didn't show it. Didn't say anything.
He'd visited her frequently since then. In war, it seemed that one held onto little ties like that with all their might. They'd known each other for a few years before he'd left to join the military and her father had died. It was at his grave that she'd learned about the real dreams of Roy Mustang. His hopes for the world that he lived in and the people he shared it with. When she learned who closely they matched her own, she'd vowed then to help him.
She'd given him the secret to her father's life work. He'd entrusted it to her, branding her forever with the only thing in his life as important as she was. And now Mustang, having learned that secret, was forced to use it for this. This pitiful war. No, it wasn't a war, it was a mass murder.
"It isn't because I don't know who it is. It's because if you leave me up here all day and don't bring me food I might be forced to shoot you anyway." She said, her blank eyes staring out at the smoking city before her.
"You really shouldn't be here. I'm sorry that I forced you into this Riza." He said sadly, his dark eyes avoiding her face.
"I picked this path. I chose to follow you. You never asked me to do this. I did it all on my own. I'll follow you to the ends of the world. As long as we share the same dream, it only makes sense, right?"
He looked up, relief showing in his gaze. The two soldiers shared a smile, slight and disheartened as it was. It was something in this dry, death filled part of the world.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Pain shot through her again when her collar was roughly grabbed and yanked, dragging her across the rough stone floor. It was when she was dropped back against the floor that the realization hit her. She was dying.
Bringing a hand to her throat, she ignored the pain and put pressure on the wound. She could feel how deep it was, the sickening parting of skin. The blood immediately coated her hand, spilling between her fingers despite her best efforts.
It was odd, she was bleeding to death and for the moment, all she could think about was how annoying the feeling of her blood soaked shirt sticking to her skin was.
Completely unable to move her body, for fear of the shooting pain, her eyes rolled slightly, blinking quickly to clear the unexplainable haze away. Her gaze found Mustang being held back, barely, by two men. The rage on his face was a surprise to her. She must look bad. Where had that murderous tinge in his eyes come from?
"I won't die. I've been ordered not to die you see." Her voice sounded strange to her. Weak and forced. Just the act of speaking was an agony she could hardly stand. The pain that came from those few words blocked her from the rest of the world for a moment. She couldn't keep track of the conversation going on around her.
Suddenly a man was standing in front of her. "I wonder if she's dead." He mused. The rustle of fabric and rough grunts coming from behind him gave Riza Mustang's reaction. Would he do it? She wondered. Human transmutation? He'd toyed with the idea before. When the guilt ate at him so badly he almost took his own life.
Would she mean so much to him that he would break that cardinal rule for her? Looking at his face again, she could see it in his eyes. If she didn't think it would have swayed him, she would have been crying.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
"Burn it!" She yelled, her hands balled at her sides.
"Are you insane?" Roy yelled back. He took a few steps toward her, but stopped quickly when she glared up at him. Her brown eyes held such a resolve it made him pause.
"Burn it." She said quietly, annunciating the words carefully, slowly. "You know what it can do. You know! What if it was in someone else's hands? A man like Kimbly?! He's dangerous enough as it is. You know that's what needs to be done."
Mustang just stared at her. He didn't know if he could cause her so much pain, right or not.
Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she stalked over to the cot where she slept and reached underneath the mattress to retrieve the knife that she kept there. She held it up in front of his face, startling him back to reality.
"If you don't burn it, I'll cut it off myself." She threatened. It was rare to see her so passionate about anything. She was usually so reserved and contained. There was no doubt in his mind that she would carry out her threat.
Reaching out gently, he took the knife from her grip, tossing it aside. His hand slid to her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin lightly. "Okay, but just enough to make sure it isn't of use to anyone. I won't burn it all." He tried to meet her half way.
With a resolute nod, she turned away from him quickly. She closed her eyes quickly and began to unbutton her shirt. Suddenly his arms were around her waist and she could feel his warm, strong chest against her back. Caught by surprise, she didn't resist when his hand gently turned her chin, allowing him to kiss her over her shoulder passionately. "I'm sorry." He said softly against her lips.
Releasing her, he watched the shirt fall away from her. The tattoo on her back was large and quite elaborate. No matter how he wished for it to be otherwise, it would take a considerable amount of erasing to make it unusable.
Closing his eyes tightly to keep the tears from popping up, he pulled on one glove and snapped his fingers.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Mustang caught Riza's gaze and his heart caught. The ferocity in her gaze made him reconsider. Even if he broke the taboo and preformed human transmutation to save her life, she would never forgive him. He didn't know which would be harder to live with. Her hating him, or her lack of existence at all. All he knew was that both would destroy him. He couldn't live without her in his life.
She was his strength. His reason for doing what he did. All the pain and suffering he had caused he could wade through it all with her by his side, as she had been for so long now. He needed her silent grace to remind him of his own. He simply wouldn't exist without her. And that was how he knew which choice he had to make.
"I get it." He informed her loudly. It would serve to tell everyone his decision, but he spoke the words for her. "I get it, Lieutenant. I won't do human transmutation." He promised.
He had called her his precious woman. That scum. The one who had caused all of this. The one he would have to kill if Riza died. His precious woman. She was. More precious than his own life. Right now this was all he could do for her.
For a moment, she could relax. She closed her eyes and let her body go for a moment. He wouldn't do it. She'd known he was stronger than that. It was their mistake to do this. To try and use her against him. He would never allow such a thing to go unpunished. They would all pay dearly.
When she opened her eyes again, she could see the widening pool of blood beneath her from the corner of her eye. Her hand clamped harder on the wound, making her bite her lip to keep from crying out. Maybe it wasn't even worth it. She closed her eyes again, hearing only dull thuds and muted cries around her.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
She looked so beautiful like that, Mustang mused, leaning back on the couch of his home. She was sitting across from him, pouring wine into two crystal glasses. Reaching over the coffee table, she handed him one. Her hair was down and much longer than the first time he'd met her. It fell across her back, reaching her shoulder blades now. It fell over the black sweater she wore, making the blond strands more brilliant.
"It's been three years already since I made you my second in command?" He asked, looking down at the pale gold liquid that swirled in the glass. "And this is the first quiet evening we've had in nearly that long. They don't happen very often do they?" He mused, more to himself then her.
Her brown eyes regarded him steadily but she remained silent. She took a sip of wine, then rested it carefully in her hands against her lap. She looked down at it slowly. After a few moments, she parted her lips slightly, but hesitated a moment. When the words finally came, they were soft.
"Are we still doing the right thing? This is going far beyond what we'd originally thought."
Hawkeye could feel his eyes on her when he answered quickly and without doubt. "Yes."
She laughed softly and looked up at him again. "Good." Taking another drink, she set down her wine glass on the table in front of her.
Mustang set down his as well and stood abruptly from the couch. Taking her hand, he pulled her up as well, tugging her against his body. He kept his hand on hers, the other encircling her waist. He began to move with some unknown tune in his mind. There wasn't any music playing in the house that she could hear.
She didn't question his odd actions anymore. She'd gotten used to them now. Instead she just flowed with him. Letting him lead, she moved with his slow steps, resting her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes.
If there were ever two dancers who were better suited for each other, they would have been gods. They were not perhaps the most skilled, but they moved as one entity, with an assurance that the other would be there at the right moments, in the right places. One soul in two bodies.
"Just don't leave me," He murmured, his lips against her golden hair. "And everything will turn out alright in the end…you'll see."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
She just let it happen. Her life flashing before her eyes. He was in most of the pictures she saw. Such a huge part of her life. Had she succeed in protecting him? She could only hope. She'd succeed in keeping him from performing human transmutation, for the benefit of his soul and to thwart the madmen who'd tried to force it on him. She could die happy knowing that.
"Open your eyes!" Strong arms embraced her. She didn't need to hear the voice to know those arms. They'd supported her many times. Held her many times as well. She'd almost gathered the strength to open her eyes when the arms slipped from around her. An odd tingling surged through her oh so tired body and suddenly the pain washed away in waves, lessening considerably, leaving a dull ache in her throat.
The arms returned quickly, squeezing her tight against a warm body. She could smell death in the room, her own blood was a strong metallic scent that clung to her. But, above it all she could smell Roy. Strong and heady, a scent that had distracted her more than once.
"I'm sorry…" He whispered. "Thank you.."
She tried to sit up slightly. "Colonel…I'm so…"
"Don't talk!" He ordered quickly. "Just rest!" She'd had a quick patch job, but he could still lose her if he wasn't careful. He had to keep her alive until they could find a real doctor to heal her properly.
Opening her eyes defiantly, she looked up at him with the barest of smiles. "My eye signal. You recognized it well." She said quietly, her voice hollow to her own ears.
"We've been together for a long time after all." He said, smiling back at her. "Besides, "If you do human transmutation, I'll beat you to death." That's what your glare was telling me, right?"
Despite the pain, she couldn't help but laugh. They had been together for a long time and he could read her like a book. She relaxed again in his arms for a few more moments. Everything would be alright. She closed her eyes again, just for a short time.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
She stood at the top of a hill, looking down at Central in the distance. A feeling of peace settled over her. Over the entire place. Everywhere. Looking over her shoulder, she watched Mustang approach. Reaching a hand toward him, gold glinted from a finger at the corner of her eye.
Taking her hand, Mustang stood beside her, looking down at her lovely face. His hair was peppering slightly with gray, but still mostly black. His eyes smiled down at her and he squeezed her hand.
"Enjoying the view?" He inquired gently, following the path of her gaze out over the city.
"Enjoying the serenity of it all. I never thought we'd get here. It seemed like a lifetime back then. Or maybe it just felt impossible."
"Nothing is impossible." He retorted. "You and I are living proof of that." He turned her to face him, his free hand tracing a thin line on her neck. "Didn't I tell you it would all work out in the end, so long as you were with me."
"You're resorting to 'I told you so?'" She asked with a laugh.
"It's very rare that I'm right. I'm going to enjoy it, dammit."
She swept an arm over the view of the city, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. "Then enjoy it, all of this happiness is because of you."
"Us." He corrected. "I would have been useless without you."
With another laugh her brown eyes looked at him teasingly. "You're still useless with me."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Odd, she didn't remember that memory. She looked up at him as he held her. He was looking off somewhere now, giving her his profile. His handsome features, the strong line of his jaw. The determined eyes.
She didn't know when he'd become such a vital part of her existence but he was. She knew that in a few moments all hell would break lose once again. But when he looked down at her, they had one moment together where no one else existed and they could be alone. Just one moment in time where they were at peace, just by having each other to lean on.
It was for moments like that she would live.