A/N Just a little something for Royai Day. June 11th 2012. I haven't written in awhile, but what better day to come off of a writing hiatus? I'm not sure of the timeline of when Berthold Hawkeye tattooed Riza's back, so I just ran with my own idea for it. My apologies if it's not accurate or doesn't fit in with the manga timeline. I sorta like the idea though : ) Happy Royai Day and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters.

He felt the weight of the bed shift as she rolled off and made her way to the kitchen. He kept his breathing normal and his eyes closed, certain that she would be looking back to make sure she hadn't disturbed him. When he was positive she was no longer in the room he slowly got up and put on his trousers and crept quietly to the kitchen. His plan had been to sneak up from behind and give her a quick scare before he left for the day, but something stopped him short of his goal.

She was wearing a sheer nightgown with her back facing him as she stood by the coffee pot, brewing a fresh pot of her favorite black coffee. His eyes instantly gravitated to the massive tattoo that stretched the length her back. The alchemist in him never failed to be amazed after all these years by its intricate patterns and symbols. Such a brilliant display full of meaning, invisible to the naked eye. But not him. He knew the secrets that lay across her back. The secrets to the alchemy that had made him who he was today, the Flame Alchemist. His eyes traveled up as he took in the beauty of it, only to stop on the marred part of her back that he could not forget about. No matter how many times he tried to banish it from his memory, it refused to be forgotten. The scar was an ugly burnt red color that rose just slightly above the surrounding skin. The only flaw in a flawless piece of an alchemical equation and he had been the one to destroy it. Not only had he destroyed the key to flame alchemy, but he was also the one responsible for ravaging the back of this woman, his most trusted ally. Bile rose to his throat when he thought about that day. The smell of burning skin, the feel of the hot, arid air around him, closing in on him. The agonizing sound that threatened to tear the very fiber of his being apart scream by scream. Her screams. Her pain that he wished he could take away, but instead he was the cause of.

The humming of the coffee pot stopped, indicating that it had finished brewing and that he needed to make his escape before she realized he had been behind her this whole time. Instead of faking sleep again, he dashed to the bathroom and vomited his disgust into the toilet. His hands shook slightly when he thought of his teacher, her father, putting that monstrosity on her, surely against her will. She had never come out and said so, but he knew. He knew. He could never be sure of when. Before he met her or after? During his time at the Hawkeye household? The very thought of it happening when he had been around caused more bile to rise, but this time he kept it down. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Sir? Are you alright in there?" Her voice calmed him just slightly. But not enough. He had never thought of the exact placement in time when she had been afflicted with her father's research. He'd always repressed the thought, didn't want to know the answer. But now he couldn't go on not knowing. This sudden change in him terrified him but he knew he couldn't stop it. He had to know. He stood up slowly and washed the taste of vomit out of his mouth with water from the sink. "Sir?" She persisted, an edge of worry creeping into her voice. Opening the door, he faced her. Clad only in his trousers she was taken aback when she saw him. She had since put on clothes since he had last seen her in the kitchen. "There's coffee in the kitchen. Better hurry before it gets cold." She said, regaining herself as she turned to leave. He reached out and lightly grabbed her wrist, but with enough strength that she knew she couldn't ignore it.

"When?" He said a bit more gruffly than he would have liked.

"Sir?" She asked, turning to face him completely, but removing her wrist from his grasp.

"Your back. When did it happen?" He asked again, this time more softly, eyes fixated on the floor.

Silence.

He let his gaze drift up to meet her eyes. They were closed and he could tell he had struck a nerve. He had spoken about one of the unspeakable subjects circling around them. There seemed to be many of those.

"Hawkeye. When?" He tried again, this time more sternly. He needed an answer but he knew he was walking on thin ice. She exhaled softly and met his eyes.

"Shortly after you left. He completed his research a little while after you joined the military." Her voice shook and threatened to break but she held on long enough to finish her sentence. She dropped her eyes and clenched them shut. He swore she looked like she could collapse at any second. In fact, he felt like he could collapse at any second. Deep down he had known, had always known. Hearing her say it out loud sealed it. Now it was all too real.

"Fuck, I-I didn't know." He stuttered pathetically.

"How could you, sir?" She responded quickly and a little harshly. They stood in silence for a few tense seconds before, as always; it was her being the stronger one of the two. "The coffee will get cold if you wait too long, sir." Her voice was soft, but he knew that with that statement she was closing the conversation and shuffling it under the rug along with all the others. He tried to give a response, but he was also trying to keep himself steady by leaning on the bathroom door handle. Keeping himself upright won out.

"I'm taking Hayate out to the park. I'll see you Monday, sir." She stated with a finality that shook him to the core. Somehow he found his voice as she walked into the kitchen and out the front door.

"See you Monday, Lieutenant."