She pulled the trigger again, and the bullet pierced straight through the target where, if there were a living human, the bridge of their nose would be. Another shot hammered through just above it, and then she aimed for the chest, where the heart would be located.

Bullseye.

She lowered her gun. Her name had become considerably more suited to her ever since she had enlisted.

She reached for a clip to reload, but paused at the sound of a knock on the nearby wall. Looking around, she found that the visitor she had been expecting had arrived, his eye barely visible behind his dark glasses.

Considering what she had heard, that was probably a good thing.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I figured I could squeeze in a few extra practise shots while I was waiting."

Finn didn't reply. It was more than obvious that he was nervous about being here.

"I do recall you telling me you were a marksman," Hawkeye said as she slipped a fresh clip into her gun, "but I assume you don't have weapons of this kind in Atmos. Is that correct?"

The teenage boy gulped and nodded.

"In that case," said Hawkeye, "it may be a good idea if you were to learn how to use these."

A single blue eye widened in shock. He stared at the steel weapon that she was holding, shining in the yellowish light from the nearby lights as she held it out for him to take.

He closed his fingers around its handle and took it from her-

"No," Hawkeye said quickly, and gently pointed the barrel away from his face. "Never point the barrel at anything you don't mean to shoot. Now step up to the mark."

Though he was obviously nervous, the teen stepped onto the line that marked the minimum distance a shooter could stand from the range of targets several metres away.

"Face the target head-on," Hawkeye instructed from behind him, "and hold up the gun between you so that you can look down the barrel. You'll want to cup your other hand around the base of the handle for extra support. It'll also help to protect you from the recoil. If you want, you can stand slightly to the side; maybe look along your arm."

Finn obediently raised the weapon before him. He twisted slightly to his right and looked down his arm, down the gun at the target.

"Remember to stay calm," said Hawkeye, and she stepped a little closer. "The last thing you want is to get excited or panic, because then your aim can become erratic and there's a good chance you'll miss, or just outright hit something you didn't mean to. And I don't mean to sound discriminatory, but you in particular will need to concentrate because of your lack of depth perception."

Maybe he ignored that remark, or maybe he didn't. Either way, he straightened his back slightly and took a deep breath.

"And when you're ready," Hawkeye said, "gently apply pressure to the trigger."

Finn's gaze was steely. His eye was like ice as his finger tightened on the gun's trigger, slowly pressing it inward...

...until there was a sharp explosion as the gun went off, firing straight through the centre of the target up ahead.

Finn gaped in amazement.

"Excellent," said Hawkeye proudly. "Try again."

He did. He shot another hole in the target, right next to the first one, and then another on its other side.

"You picked that up fast," Hawkeye commented with a faint smile.

Finn fired a fourth shot, and her smile fell as she looked at the hole that had pierced through the target right where its right eye would have been.

His gaze remained steely and serious. It was a miracle the target wasn't melting before his eyes.

"I think that's enough," she said. "You can stop now."

The boy lowered his hands. It was difficult to tell, but it was possible that he was relieved to be done as he turned away from the target and walked back over to the Captain.

"You're clearly a fast learner," Hawkeye told him as she took the sidearm back. "If you keep practising, it's likely you may become a fantastic marksman."

With what she'd heard about him, she half-expected the boy to retort by saying he already was. Instead he just bowed his head, likely trying to hide his face from her.

She replaced the bullets that had been used up.

"I know how you must be feeling," she said. "You're thinking you're never going to recover from what you've been through. You're thinking that your world has come to an end and that you'll never be of use to anybody ever again."

Finn didn't respond.

"And I understand that," Hawkeye continued.

This prompted him to look up.

"I felt similarly after the conclusion of the war in Ishval," she explained. "It was my skill with a sniper that had aided in destroying a civilisation. My hands were dirtied with the blood of innocent people whose only wish had been to survive another day. Added to that, I saw my father's life's work being used for the same thing. I couldn't bear to think that I had been involved in the responsibility for such destruction, and there were many times when I considered putting an end to my life to ensure it wouldn't ever happen again. And now..."

She placed the gun in her holster.

"Now I'm a respected captain, sought after all over the country," she told him. "I've had offers from Briggs, from the Northern Wall herself seeking my skills for the defence of her border. It may not be the greatest job in the world, but I take pride in it because not only is it something I'm good at, but it allows me to protect everything and everyone that matters to me. I can hold my head up proudly and say that I'm successful; that I can move on from the events of my past and face the future with hope."

Finn looked away. Maybe he just didn't feel like he deserved to look at her.

"I know it sounds cliché when people tell you that it gets better," said Hawkeye, "but they aren't lying. Just give yourself some time. I promise you that you'll get better. You'll find a way to move on and you'll be better for it."

She gave him a final gentle smile before turning away, intending to return to her apartment where Black Hayate would be waiting for her.

"Can I hug you?"

She froze.

When she turned around, the boy looked more frightened than ever.

"I just…" he said nervously. "I feel like… like I should…"

He closed his eyes with a shamed flush of blood on his cheeks and turned his face away from hers.

Seeing him so embarrassed was almost painful, and considering everything he'd supposedly been through, it was something he definitely did not deserve. So with a faint smile, Hawkeye walked over to him and pulled him into what she hoped was a warm embrace.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she told him. "Everybody needs a little comfort once in a while, and it's nothing for you to be ashamed of. If you ever need a fellow marksman to talk to, you can always come to me, alright?"

It came as a relief to her when he returned the hug.

"Thank you," he said weakly.

After all, he really wasn't much more than a child.

Finn paused as he mounted his ride.

He knew he should head back to the Condor as soon as possible, especially with the new rule that Aerrow had instated. He didn't want to get himself into trouble again.

But at the same time, it had been a while since he'd seen the other Elric, or the brothers' beautiful female friend. Finn hadn't cared much for manners, but it would just feel wrong if he didn't pay them a visit.

His skimmer was fast, right? He could probably make it there, say hi and be back before he was missed.

Surely it wouldn't be hard to find his way to Resembool. He just had to follow the roads and when he got to rolling green fields, he would know he was headed in the right direction.

So he revved his engine and sped away from Central Command, heading in a southern direction according to the compass built into his dashboard. He was the only one on the roads of the city right now and the roar of his engine was the only sound he could hear, aside from the rushing of the wind in his ears.

How had he even come to be here?

Oh yeah…

He sat on his bunk, curled up with his knees to his chest and clutching them there, listening to the sounds of the ship around him.

The distant rumbling of the engine.

The low-pitched hum of the heating system.

The brief gurgle of pipes as somebody turned a tap on and off.

He didn't want to contribute to it. Making noise had got him into trouble. It had cost him a vital part of himself. He couldn't do that anymore.

Another noise caught his attention. Somebody was talking right outside his door. By the sounds of things, one of them was Aerrow, and the other was most likely Edward. He didn't have to be a genius to know that they were talking about him. What else would they be talking about while standing right outside his door?

Then there were a few moments of voiceless quiet.

And then the door entered to reveal the team's resident alchemy expert, and it still felt weird to know that they actually needed an alchemy expert now.

"Hey," he said. "How're you doing?"

Finn didn't reply. He hadn't felt like talking for a long time now.

"You know," Ed said as he walked into the room, "I can't avoid noticing how docile you've been lately. You sure you don't want to come out for a bit of target practise? Aerrow let me draw the Dark Ace this time. You should see how epic it looks."

He was smiling. He seemed proud of his achievement. But Finn didn't respond. He didn't even look at the jerk, and turned his face away when he sat down next to him.

"Everybody's worried about you," Ed told him. "You're refusing to come out of your room. You don't eat, you don't talk, you don't even look at us! I know this'll probably sound cliché as hell, but Finn, this isn't you."

Again, Finn didn't reply.

"Junko's probably the most worried. He cries pretty much every day now because of how much he misses you. And it doesn't make it better that you haven't even left us."

Finn curled himself in tighter.

"I know what I'm saying right now could be pretty useless," Ed continued regardless of the other blond's silence. "But look; there's nothing I or any of us can do to chance what happened. You lost your eye to someone who held you captive and threatened your life. I can't even begin to imagine how afraid you must've been."

He paused, probably expecting some kind of response, but Finn didn't give him one.

"So I won't blame you if you don't bother to listen when I suggest you head to Central Command's firing range at half past six tomorrow evening. It's just that I know you're rather taken with a certain sharpshooting Captain, given how you're still wearing that shot penny 'round your neck."

Wordlessly, Finn curled a single finger around the little coin that sat on a leather string on his neck.

"I won't force you to go," Ed said, and he stood up. "I won't force you to come out of your room. If I did, I'd be a goddamn horrible person. I'll just say that if you don't want to spend the rest of your life locked away in your room with nothing but yourself and the mess inside your head, then follow my suggestion. It's up to you."

He walked out of the room, leaving the semi-former marksman alone with his thoughts.

…that's why.

Admittedly, it had felt strange to talk again after so long. His throat had felt odd and his voice had probably sounded a little squeaky from disuse.

But he was glad he had done it. He was glad he'd had the courage to speak to Hawkeye, rather than spending the whole visit in complete silence. She was still one of the most amazing people he had ever met, and just as beautiful and skilled as the first time he had seen her.

Had Ed been the one to set that up?

He must've been. Why else would he have suggested Finn go to that specific place at that specific time? How else would he have known she would be there?

Dammit. He didn't like being in debt at the best of times, but now he was in debt to that guy.

Except when he'd come in to talk to him, when Finn had just been sitting on his bed ignoring him, he'd been…

…he'd been nice.

It was like he just hadn't cared about the marksman's animosity for him. He'd acted friendly and kind and understanding. It kind of made sense – after all, Ed had been through his fair share of horrible and traumatic experiences – but as far as he could remember, Finn had deliberately made a point of not being nice to him.

So why had he done that?

Out of the goodness of his heart?

He could think about this later. When he had a chance to rest. Right now he had to focus on driving.

He'd left the city by now. The road he was on was surrounded by trees. Luckily he had the moon to guide his way, but he still wished he could have some kind of headlight on his ride.

He wanted to remove his shades, but the heavier air in Amestris meant more wind resistance and considering how uncomfortable it was already on his cheeks, he didn't want to know what it would do to his eye.

Eye.

Singular. One.

No. Dammit, no. Think about driving. Driving was important.

As he focused his attention, another rumble behind him was drawing closer, along with a bright, yellowish-white light. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that it was an approaching car, and because he wasn't travelling as fast as he could in Atmos, it was catching up.

'It's okay,' he told himself. 'Nothing to worry about. It's just how people get around in Amestris. And there's nothing wrong with driving at night. I bet people do it all the time. It's just nice to drive at night. Nothing to worry about.'

But just as he was finishing that thought, he glanced back again, and saw a person leaning out a window of the vehicle, aiming what was unmistakeably a gun in his direction.

With a thrill of horror, Finn revved his engine and tried to gain more speed, even as he both heard and felt a bullet bounce off his withdrawn wing.

"Go back to where you came from, sky scum!" he heard somebody yell over the roaring of wind in his ears.

"Leave me alone," he muttered weakly. "Please, please just leave me alone."

The speedometer on his dashboard was obviously lying to him. It was telling him that he was doing a hundred miles an hour when from the feel of it he was only doing sixty. Sixty five max. And now he was being chased by people who seemed to want to kill him and he had no idea why.

As another shot ricocheted off his handlebars, another car pulled into view in front of him and started speeding in his direction, and this one also had a person leaning out the window and pointing a gun at him. At that range, there was no way they were going to miss, and with the speed they were doing, a collision was inevitable.

In a thrill of panic-induced adrenaline, Finn deployed his wings and took to the air, managing to clear the car before retracting and dropping back down again with a heavy thump that would probably do damage somewhere on the inside. A screech of tires informed him that the second car had now made a hurried U-turn and that the first had swerved to avoid it, and there was a brief, shouted argument between the two before the shots resumed.

There was nothing Finn wanted more than to use evasive manoeuvres, or better yet, take to the air and escape, but it had been stupid to try to take off in this wooded area and if he tried it again, he would probably crash.

Horror shot even further down his spine as something thumped onto the back end of his ride. Had one of his attackers come aboard to finish him off?

"Don't stop!"

No, wait, what?

"Don't stop moving!" shouted the new and somehow familiar voice. "Keep driving until you reach a more open region!"

Panicking now more than ever, Finn revved his engine and strived for more speed that didn't seem to come. As he did so, he heard what sounded like the blasts of a crystal weapon, being fired at the pursuing vehicles. There were more pings as bullets were deflected and suddenly a screeching of tires followed by crashing and screaming. Obviously one of the cars had crashed, and quite violently.

"Don't you even think about slowing down!" was the next command, and Finn was too terrified to object.

There was the sound of another blast, followed by more gunfire, and another shot was quickly followed by screeching of tyres and more crashing as Finn finally emerged into a more open region. Only then did he pluck up the courage to look back and see who it was that had saved him from his attackers, just as the newcomer looked down at him.

It was the Dark Ace.

Holding his still-activated sword in one hand and wearing an Amestrian military uniform.

"Fly, you fool," he snapped, and then he jumped away.

Finn didn't hesitate. He deployed his wings and took to the air.

What the hell had just happened?

Chased by armed gunmen in cars? Fleeing for his life? Saved by the Dark Ace?!

'I just gotta fly,' he told himself. 'Just keep flying. They won't be able to get me if I keep flying. I can get to Resembool faster if I just keep flying.'

He didn't feel any more at ease now that he was flying, though. The air in his face still felt too thick and too heavy for his liking and it was getting hard to breathe. Looking down, he could see everything illuminated by the moon, and thankfully there weren't any more vehicles.

He checked the compass. Going south-east.

He just had to make it to Resembool. Just Resembool. Then he would be safe.

The glass was cold. Al could feel the chill in his forearm pressing against the window. He knew he should probably move away from it, but it was a nice night. It seemed peaceful.

A soft weight became present on his knee and he looked down to see Den resting her chin on his leg.

"Hey there," he said, and tickled behind her ears. "You've already had your dinner, so don't come pleading to me."

Den obviously cared more about the attention than the food, as she started wagging her tail regardless of Al's denial.

"I think she just wants a bit of a scratch," Winry said as she sat down beside Al. "See how she's leaning into you?"

Smiling, Al scratched harder, and Den pressed her head into his fingers as forcefully as it's possible for a dog to do so. Winry giggled at the sight and rubbed the dog's back.

"You're ridiculous, Den!" she said happily.

"It's like she lives on petting," Al commented.

"Don't you go spoiling her," Granny chided as she left the kitchen. "The last thing we want is for her to go soft."

"Are you kidding?" said Winry. "Den's been soft ever since she was a puppy!"

Al giggled and turned back to the window.

"Wait a minute," he said quietly, "what's that?"

He watched as something large landed outside, and through the window and the wall, his ears picked up the rumbling of an engine. He narrowed his eyes and peered in closer, trying to see who had just arrived.

"Can you see who it is?" asked Winry.

"What would we have a visitor for at this hour?" Granny asked bitterly.

Without replying, Al got up and walked to the front door.

"I'm going to ask them," he said as he reached it. "I don't think any Cyclonians would be allowed through though, so we probably don't have anything to worry about."

He opened the door, and the moment he did, a screaming figured rushed in and crashed against the wall beside the door.

"SHUT IT!" he yelled. "SHUT IT AND LOCK IT! THEY'RE AFTER ME, PLEASE!"

Al was too alarmed to disobey, and after he had locked the door, he stared in confusion at the newcomer. The patched clothes and blond spikes were necessary to identify him, as he had hidden his face in his knees.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you alright? Who's after you?"

"I don't know," Finn whimpered. "I don't know!"

Al wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Alphonse?" He heard Winry approaching. "What's going on? I thought I heard- Finn?! What're you doing here?"

Finn didn't reply. When Al reached towards him, he trembled like a leaf. Hoping to provide some comfort, Al rested one hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay now," he said. "Whoever was chasing you, we won't let them hurt you. You're safe here, I promise."

It didn't seem to work, so Al shuffled in closer and tried to give him a hug, to which Finn put up no resistance. And even if he had, it would probably have only been half-hearted.

"It's okay, Finn," Al repeated. "It's okay."