This is a short, angsty oneshot based on a headcanon that I had posted to Tumblr about two weeks ago.
Summary: Faced with dying painfully of illness long before Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye comes up with a solution that ensures she keeps her promises to him.
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The sound of a dog howling on the floor above drew Roy's attention away from his newspaper. He frowned. It was unlike Tatsu to make this much noise. Why wasn't Riza quieting the shiba inu? The yelping had to be disturbing the nap she had said she planned to take. It certainly couldn't be helping the headache from which she said she was suffering.
He stood, cringing at the pain in his left knee as he did so. Shuffling toward the staircase, he braced himself for the repetition of that pain as he ascended each step. The howling of Black Hayate's granddaughter continued, and Roy tried to quicken his pace.
The blood drained from Roy's aging face after he pushed open the door to the bedroom. Riza was sprawled on the floor, having never made it up on to the bed. Roy rushed to her side as quickly as he could, every joint aching as he did so. Why couldn't he move faster? Why couldn't he be beside her in an instant, as he once could be?
Tatsu moved aside as Roy bent down to cradle his wife. He dared not squeeze her, as he once would have. She was so fragile in his arms, seeming as delicate as the silk her white hair resembled as it spilled over Roy's arm in his embrace. He slowly stood, ignoring the protesting pain in his lower back, and placed her on the bed. Picking up the phone on the nightstand, he stared at the dial, struggling for the number he needed. He ground his teeth in frustration at his own forgetfulness. Dr. Knox… Dr. Knox… Roy glanced around the room, searching for anything that would refresh his memory. His eyes landed on the notepad next to the phone, on which Riza had clearly printed the phone number for the doctor. Now he remembered - she had placed it there months ago, for instances such as this. Roy had refused to accept that he would ever need to use it, at the time.
Roy's fingers shook as he dialed in the number. He had to start over twice. Finally, he entered the correct sequence.
"This is Dr. Knox."
"Dr. Knox? This is Roy Mustang. There's been an emergency with Riza."
"I'll be over in fifteen minutes."
Roy thanked the doctor and hung up the phone. Fifteen minutes was hardly any time for the doctor to gather his supplies and drive over to their small house on the outskirts of Central City. Yet it felt like too much time. Roy turned back to the bed, studying his wife. He gently took her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Her skin was so thin, so pale. Age had caught her faster than it had caught him, and it tore him apart that he could do nothing to stop it.
Roy watched the doctor work from the armchair in the corner of the room. Riza had finally woken up, but remained groggy and disoriented. It also appeared that she had broken her right hand when she fell, which was already swollen and bruised purple and black. Her voice as she answered the doctor's questions came out as a rasp. At one point, questions were halted when Riza was overcome by a fit of coughing. The coughing wasn't a new development - she had been struggling with it since she recovered from a bout of pneumonia several months ago. Recently, however, it was worse. Eventually, Dr. Knox gave her some medicine for the pain in her hand and told her to rest. He walked over to Roy and gestured toward the door of the bedroom.
"Can I speak to you outside, Mr. Mustang?" Dr. Knox's brow was furrowed, coming close to resembling his late father's constant expression. Whatever news he had couldn't be good.
Roy stood to follow the doctor, but both men were stopped by Riza's raspy protest from the bed.
"Whatever you have to say to him about my condition, you can say to me. I don't want it sugar-coated, and I have a right to learn what's happening with me directly from the doctor. If I'm dying, tell it to my face, Dr. Knox." She began coughing again and Roy rushed over, stroking the back of her head.
Resigned, Dr. Knox nodded. "Very well, then. This isn't easy to say, but," his gaze flickered between Roy and Riza, "the symptoms you have described to me point toward cancer in your lungs."
Roy's eyes widened, his stroking of Riza's head halting. Riza gave a short nod.
"How long do I have?"
"A few weeks. Maybe months. Your current condition… isn't good."
Another nod. "Thank you for your honesty, doctor."
"Of course, I need to run some tests, to be certain, but -"
"That won't be necessary, doctor. Thank you for taking the time to come see me."
Recognizing his dismissal, Dr. Knox wrote down recommendations for several medicines to alleviate Riza's coughing and headaches, shook Roy's hand, and left. It was clear that he would have liked to make more suggestions and run more tests to make a definite diagnosis, but he had heard enough stories from his father about the obstinance of the hawk's eye to know better than to argue with her.
The moment the doctor was gone, Riza turned to Roy, who was still standing beside her in silent shock. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be losing her. He was supposed to go first - he leads, she follows. That's how it had always been with them. He couldn't conceive of a world in which she had left him behind.
A few weeks or months. That's all the time they had left. Hardly any time at all. They were old, but they still had plans. They had discussed moving out east to the country, to Risembool, to spend the rest of their days surrounded by the Elrics and the Havocs. He and Riza had only retired five years ago - what about the many years of quiet marital bliss that he had imagined? He couldn't bear the idea of watching her waste away in from of him. A few weeks or months. And he knew that every emotional pain he felt during its course, she would feel in addition to her own physical pain that he could not share with her. He clenched his fists, willing the moisture to stop forming in his eyes.
"Roy?"
He stared straight ahead, not even blinking in fear that it would send a tear rolling down his cheek.
"Roy, look at me." Her voice was firm, but not unsympathetic.
He tore his gaze away from the wall and met her eyes, his heart breaking as he did so. Her eyes were both tender and determined. Her face had aged gracefully, absent of blemishes or lines with the exception of a few crinkles around the corners of her eyes and lips. Probably from laughing at his own idiocy over the years. He squinted to observe these things about her, his own sight failing with his advancing age.
"I don't know what to do, Riza. I don't know how to help." He clutched her unharmed hand, bringing it to his lips. "But I'll be here with you for every step of it."
"Roy, we've discussed this. What we would do if I should start dying first."
He frowned, setting her hand back down on the bed without letting go. Had they discussed it? His eyes scoured the room again, his go-to method for remembering. They landed on the wall clock, the pendulum swinging steadily from beneath it. Ah, yes - that discussion. He jerked his head back around to look at her once more. "Riza, no."
"I don't want to go little by little each day, Roy. I don't want to go, knowing that you'll be alone once I am gone. Please, Roy. I want you to do it."
Although Roy's vision was no longer good enough for him to see her tears, he could hear them in her voice. Her curtness with the doctor had been a disguise. She was terrified.
Roy continued shaking his head, but he knew that he would eventually give in. He squinted, once more taking in all of her features. She didn't want to give it a few weeks or months. She wanted it to be over as soon as possible. He snaked his free hand into his pocket and clutched his pocket-watch. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded.
"Tomorrow, then. I'll spend tonight getting ready." He leaned over and kissed her. Tonight would be their last night, then. The last night he would be able to lie beside her and feel her warmth. To murmur in her ear and caress her face. He already knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep for any of it - he wanted to remember every last detail before it was gone forever.
"Thank you."
Funeral announcements were sent out two days later. The funeral took place the following Friday, giving anyone outside of Central enough time to make their way to the city. It seemed like half of Amestris was in attendance, which wasn't all that surprising - she was the former First Lady, after all. Even Amestris' current president made an appearance to show his respect and offer his condolences to his predecessor.
Roy said little to the guests, mostly nodding and giving one-word responses. He was curt even when approached by Edward, Winry, and their two "children" (both of whom were in their late twenties).
While Winry and the children sniffled, Ed just stared at Roy in confusion. "I can't believe she's gone, Mustang. I guess I always figured you'd go first. If you need anything, we're all here for you." It was the most open with Roy that Edward had ever been, but he didn't have the stamina to even try to banter with his former superior, even if he thought it might lighten the mood. He doubted that Roy had any stamina at all, as indicated by the former president's mumbled response and a glance down at his closed pocket-watch. Edward shuffled his family away.
Rebecca Catalina Havoc was openly sobbing, her husband clutching her shoulders with one hand and wiping his own tears away with the other.
"She was always coughing on the phone! I should have realized sooner!" Rebecca rubbed her nose, the skin on it already red and cracking. "I know the symptoms - I'm always on the lookout for them with Jean!" Another sob. "I know he quit years ago, but I'm still nervous! Riza never even touched a cigarette; it's just not fair that it could even happen to her!"
Roy muttered his thanks and turned to greet the next mourner, hardly acknowledging the woman who had been closest to Riza or the man who had served as his subordinate and alongside Riza for so many years. He checked his watch again, muttering something under his breath as he did so. He held it up to his ear for a moment, nodded, and placed it back in his pocket before addressing the guest in line. Ed noticed this as Winry and Rebecca comforted each other, comparing stories with each other of adventures and encounters with Riza Hawkeye. He frowned. Maybe Roy's watch was broken? Or maybe he was just anxious for the funeral to end so that he could go home and mourn privately. Ed looked back at his own wife, taking in her slowly-silvering hair and crinkling eyes with so much life left in them. He didn't even want to try imagining Roy's pain right now. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he shifted his gaze back toward Roy - something was off about his face, something more than the look of extreme fatigue. Roy's grey eyes weren't meeting the faces of any of the people who offered their condolences to him - in fact, Edward noticed that Roy's eyes had faded from their usual black to a steely gray… just as they had once before. Ed stared at the man in shock. Roy was blind again.
Roy eventually did follow through on his and Riza's plan to move out to Risembool. The house he bought was small, with one story so that he wouldn't have to maneuver up and down stairs. Winry had at one point suggested that he move in with her and Ed, into one of their kids' old rooms, but had been met with a great deal of protest from both Roy and Edward. She did, however, insist on preparing two meals a day for Roy, to be delivered by Ed. Roy reluctantly accepted, knowing that he lacked necessary cooking skills, and knowing that Risembool lacked restaurants willing to deliver on a daily basis (he and Riza had ordered delivery from the same restaurant practically every night back in Central).
On his daily visits, Roy and Edward would talk. Most often they would discuss alchemy, with Edward still nostalgic for the days when he could clap his hands together and transmute. Roy told stories of adventures with his team, which had stayed together long after the Promised Day.
"When did you go blind again, Mustang?" Edward asked one day. Mustang had been holding his pocket-watch, stroking the decorated surface with his thumb, his head bent down as if he could actually see the object in his hands.
"The day Riza stopped breathing."
Roy refused to offer any more explanation.
Edward was often greeted by Tatsu the shiba inu long before Roy acknowledged his presence. On multiple occasions, Ed had come in to find Roy talking to his watch, as if engaged in a deep conversation. He would immediately shut the watch and stow it in his front pocket the moment he heard Ed's footsteps. Ed credited the strange behavior to Roy's age. With Riza gone, there was no one to keep Roy together. Even Ed knew that Riza had been Roy's everything. Roy even sometimes spoke of her as if she were still alive, and would reference conversations he'd had with her as if they had taken place yesterday. Or he'd reference conversations about recent occurrences that he couldn't have possibly discussed with her.
Ed observed as, over the next ten years, Roy moved slower and slower. Hell, even Ed's own joints were beginning to pain him. After Tatsu the dog had died, Winry again offered to let Roy move in with her and Edward, rather than live the rest of his days by himself. Ed was actually in support of the idea, but Roy continued to refuse. He was content to live on his own, blindness be damned.
One day, a decade after Riza's death, Edward entered Roy's house to discover the man wasn't in his usual chair by the fire. Ed found him in his bed, his breath rasping and forced. His watch was clutched in his hand, clenched against his rising and falling chest.
"It's time for us to go, Fullmetal." Roy struggled to form the words.
Edward rushed over to Roy. "Go where, Mustang? Where are we going?"
Roy closed his gray eyes for a moment before opening them. "Not you. Riza and me. I'll go… and she'll follow. Just like we planned."
"You're talking nonsense, Mustang. I'm going to get a doctor."
Roy shook his head. "No, no doctor. Just a glass of water. I'd like some water."
Edward nodded and hurried out of the room.
Roy fondled the silver pocket-watch, his shaking fingers fumbling at the clasp. Finally, he got it open.
"It's time, Riza. Time to go." He sighed. "I might go to Hell, you know." He paused, listening for her response.
"I told you long ago that I'd follow you even there, Roy."
Roy grinned. "So you did, Riza. So you… did." His eyes fluttered closed.
Edward frowned as he hurried back to Roy's room. He could have sworn that he had just heard a woman's voice from within.
He entered the room just as Roy gave one final, rattled breath before becoming silent, his hand falling limply to his side. Ed knew it was too late even as he rushed to the man's side. He stole a glance at Roy's pocket-watch, laying open on Roy's chest. He was about to look away, but did a double take. He stared in horror at the alchemy inside, known all too well to Edward. As he stared, the blood-seal on the inside of the watch slowly faded, and with its fading Edward could have sworn he heard the sigh of a woman that sounded very much like Riza Hawkeye.
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