Moments Missed

A/N: Scenes in italics take place before the preceding scene (denoted by line breaks). Chronologically, it would go 2, 1, 4, 3, 5

It was simple: one day he'd been there, and the next, he hadn't. That's all it was. It meant nothing.

At least, that was what Riza was trying to convince herself to believe.

He didn't even say goodbye.

The sound of suitcases thumping down the stairs woke Riza rather earlier than she would have preferred.

It took her a moment to figure out where she was, but then she remembered having nodded off on the couch the previous evening. (Actually, it had probably been early this morning.) She vaguely recalled the sensation of hands moving her into a reclining position, and a blanket being gently laid over her, pulled up to her chin.

That would have been Roy—they'd both been in the front room, reading and talking, though somewhat less of the latter than usual. Roy had been uncharacteristically fidgety, looking even a little guilty at times, but Riza knew he'd been asking her father about flame alchemy, so she'd just assumed…

A soft curse brought her back to reality. (It was in Xingese, to boot—Roy had explained this particular loophole in Chris's rule about never swearing in company, polite or otherwise. Like aunt, like nephew, it seemed.) Roy stood at the bottom of the stairs, gaze fixed on Riza with an expression that needed no words to say "You weren't supposed to wake up."

Lost for a moment, Riza tried to remember if Roy had mentioned that he was going to be leaving, though he'd visited Chris just a week ago, and if anything came up, Roy usually informed her for shopping purposes.

Roy quickly averted his eyes and hauled his suitcase to the door. Riza pushed the blanket off and scrambled to her feet unsteadily. "What..." It came out as a breathy whisper. Riza cleared her throat. "What's going on?"

Without stopping, Roy murmured, "Something came up."

"Something? What's going on? Is Chris all right?"

"She's fine," was the curt response.

Riza waited for a moment, but upon receiving no further explanation, she tried again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then why are you in such a hurry to leave? Why won't you tell me what's going on? Does my father know?"

"Yes." But he still wouldn't look at her.

Riza took a step towards the stairs. "You're lying." She put a foot on the first step.

Roy finally stopped. "He knows. At least, I think he does. I never said anything, but he knows, I'm sure."

As sure as Riza was that her father was by no means omnipotent, she didn't doubt that he knew what Roy was up to. Unfortunately, that was one of the few of Mr. Hawkeye's traits that she hadn't inherited. "But you're not going to tell me."

"If… When I come back, I will," Roy tried to compromise. "Please, just trust me when I tell you that it's better this way."

"Better to leave me in the dark? Better to assume that my father knows something? And you're asking me to trust you? In my experience, people say that when they know they can't be trusted." Provoked, Riza was not above hitting below the belt.

Roy's expression changed. He looked a bit hurt, a bit confused, and more than a little angry. "Maybe I can't be, but I'd like to know if there's anyone you do trust."

"I trusted you." The pain and confusion in Riza's voice didn't completely negate the caustic edge of the past tense. "I really did. But taking off without telling me or my father why—"

"That's the whole point of trust; even if you don't know what's going on, you still give me the benefit of the doubt." Roy looked at his watch. "I have to go, Riza."

"Don't let me stop you," she retorted nastily.

"Don't worry—as much as you want me to, I won't," Roy promised. "I'm done trying to make excuses here. I told you I'd come back and explain. Either you believe me or you don't, but it's not my problem anymore." He stopped again for a moment. "I'm sorry you don't trust me, Riza, but it really isn't up to me."

Riza's expression told him that she was trying her hardest to prove otherwise. "So quit standing here and leave, then. You need the encouragement, apparently."

"Now I don't know whether or not you want me to come back, but it would seem that you don't," Roy observed. "Be careful what you wish for, Riza—you just might get it." He opened the door and, without another word, dragged his suitcases out.

She'd known he'd leave at some point. After all, there's only so much learning a student can learn, only so much a teacher can teach.

But to leave that abruptly, and to be so secretive about it, raised Riza's suspicions.

Of course, it hurt, too. She really had trusted him. A part of her still wanted to. But after all the students who had turned out to be so worthless, Riza had figured that there was no point anymore. She was furious that she had let herself be taken in—charmed, some had said—by the young man, only to find out that his skill in alchemy was outpaced only by his brilliance as an actor.

Roy had been right about one thing, though: her father did seem to know what was going on, but he wouldn't tell her. It seemed he had more faith in his student, however. "I hope I'm wrong about this," was all he would say when Riza asked.

Was he trying to protect Roy? Or was it that he knew more than Riza thought he did, and was trying to protect her somehow?

A knock sounded on the front door. It was a pattern Riza knew all too well.

She had to stop herself from flinging open the door and demanding an answer. Upon opening the door, she found she wouldn't need to ask, anyway.

"You told me to trust you," she said flatly.

"And I'm going to ask you to keep trusting me." Roy managed to keep his voice even, though they both knew this was all going to go to hell if they weren't careful.

It was then that Riza realized something. "Most of Father's other students didn't give a damn about disappointing me, let alone my father. You…" She gestured to his crisp military uniform. "But you're back to explain." She paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Roy looked a bit sheepish. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too. I just didn't want to be told I couldn't do it before I tried. I wanted to tell my side of the story, and in this case, that meant neglecting yours."

Riza nodded. "I can understand that."

Understand. It didn't mean acceptance, but then, Roy knew he probably wouldn't get it, especially not from his teacher, but he had to try. "Is your father in his study?"

Again, Riza gave an affirmative answer. "But he's gotten worse. I know it's been only two months, but…" she trailed off. "He refuses to see a doctor; he says there's no point."

Roy looked grim. "How are you doing?"

Now Riza shrugged. "I'm trying to figure that out, myself."

Suddenly, Roy stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Riza, who was rather stunned by this. Several minutes ticked by, during which neither one moved. Finally, Riza slowly stepped back, directing a gaze imbued with a thousand questions in it at Roy, who was trying to keep the pity out of his expression.

Riza cleared her throat. "I'll be fine. You need to go talk to my father now." Before it's too late. You're not the only one who can keep secrets, Roy. She watched him start up the stairs. "Roy?" She waited for him to stop. "Thank you for coming back. It means a lot."

Roy nodded. "I just hope your father sees it that way."

Riza opened her mouth, seemed to think the better of whatever she was going to say, and shut it. Roy waited for a moment before continuing up the stairs.

"I'm not going to last much longer, Riza. If Roy doesn't come back soon…" Mr. Hawkeye sighed. "Promise me that you will do what's right when the time comes."

Riza nodded, straining to keep her face blank.

"I'm sorry, Riza," her father croaked. "I'm sorry."

What could Riza say?

"I'm sorry, too"? No—what did she have to be sorry for?

"It's not your fault"? A bald-faced lie that would fool neither of them.

"Why me"? There was no point in asking. None whatsoever.

Mr. Hawkeye noticed her discomfort. "It's all right, Riza. You can go."

Riza turned to leave, then turned back. "Father?"

"Yes?"

"I… love you."

Her father smiled very faintly and sadly and shook his head. "What did I do to deserve a child like you?"

When it was clear he was not going to say anything else, Riza exited the room.

THUD!

It was the sound of a body dropping to the floor. Riza blinked.

"Master Hawkeye!"

It had happened, or it was happening now. Chaos immediately overtook reason. Riza's legs shook as badly as everything else as she made her way up the stairs.

She leaned on the doorframe of her father's study for support as Roy yelled for her.

"Oh no…" she moaned, only vaguely aware that she was already crying, even though she'd known this was coming. She'd been expecting it. But some things just can't be forced, and a nonchalant reaction to death is one of them.

Here today, gone tomorrow; that's how it is to be human. How could it ever be any different?

A/N: Inspired by Nickelback's "Too Bad", The Fray's "How to Save a Life", and Tamar Kaprelian's "New Day". The title refers to how many chances they had to get to say what was really on their minds, or mis-spoke or misinterpreted what the other was saying.