A/N: Just here to remind readers that this is a separate one-shot. The previous chapter has no bearing on this one. Happy reading!

If We Were Wiser

Lieutenant Hawkeye was reassigned. Mustang was the one to stand beside her as they tried to figure out when their lives went straight to hell.

M for language and hinting at adult themes.

Roy x Riza …a bit on the OoC side.

x x x

She liked to cry sometimes. When she was alone, just her and Hayate, she often found herself, in a daze, slumped sideways on the covers of her lonely bed. Black streaks ran down her face and it seemed that her lips would be forever fixed into a frown. Today, it seemed, it took two hours to get home. Her legs wouldn't move properly. She couldn't walk fast enough. Yet as soon as she crossed the threshold into her apartment, she was forced to grit her teeth so she wouldn't scream. She checked to make sure Hayate was fed and had enough water in his dish, and then promptly staggered to her room, tears in her eyes as she shrieked nonsensical sentences to the window.

Being Bradley's subordinate was hell.

Next thing she knew, four hours had passed, Hayate was yapping rather noisily, and someone…some man was standing in the doorway between her bedroom and the hall.

Her mind didn't instantly click.

Her hands clutched at the sheets so viciously her knuckles turned white. "Leave me be, Pride. I'm not in the mood for your jokes."

"Pride?"

The voice was music to her. It was enough to bring a foolish smile to her face and convince her to pull herself up into a half-way seated position.

"I'm all out of it, Lieutenant," he replied.

Riza was left with her hair askew around her face, smiling silly and unable to focus on his face though he stepped towards her. It wasn't until he came within a foot of the bed's side that her face promptly smoothed out and she snapped, "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Technically not a house." Was his timely response.

She hesitated before meeting his eyes. "If you're not Pride, tell me something that only you would know, Colonel."

He considered her statement for a moment. His voice dropped to near inaudible as he spoke. "The flame alchemy notes you have tattooed to your back? I burnt them off after saying I wouldn't four times. You didn't cry, although I was certainly expecting it."

"Get the fuck out of my apartment. Sir." She sat up a bit straighter. For some reason she thought that and the 'sir' would cover for the swearing.

His brow rose. "Well, I was really beginning to wonder if you were drunk but I can see you're not now."

"How the hell did you get in?" she spat.

"Door was open."

A good minute passed. "Get out." She blinked.

"You've been crying for the past half hour—"

She quickly glanced the bedside clock and then proceeded to shout, "Probably the past three. Regardless, get out, Mustang!" She was obviously angry if she resorted to using his name. Albeit it wasn't his first name, but still.

"No."

She grit her teeth and glared at him a minute more, but she knew it was to no avail. Soon Riza's head fell, and more tears silently slipped away from her.

"If this is what happens when we go a week without contact, I'm coming over every afternoon." He sat beside her on the bed but made sure not touch her.

"Fuck you, Colonel." He had caught her at her worst. She had gone so long thinking that if she could get by wearing a stone cold mask at work, she could crack and weep as much as she wanted at home.

Irritated at her demeanor, he shot back. "Is that an invitation, Hawkeye?"

She wanted to punch him. "Leave me alone," she whispered instead.

"So you can cry yourself to sleep? I think not. It's not healthy."

"I've had a hard day," she muttered.

"And you think I haven't?"

Her gaze slid sideways. She couldn't believe he was trying to compete with her. "Bradley's a nightmare. He's so calm. He mentions you at every opportunity. He's testing me, Colonel. He knows…" Her voice dropped off. She was defeated. She had cried too much, she hurt too much, she just wanted to sleep so she could drift away from the real world. It was becoming too horrific. Her dreams, even her nightmares were more pleasant than the real world seemed to be.

"He knows what?"

She didn't have the emotional strength to explain herself out loud. She didn't have the patience to play his games.

"I can't do this," she breathed. She couldn't cry any more, thank God. Before he could hardly move, Riza suddenly snapped, "Don't touch me, Colonel."

He put his hand back on his knee. Once again he was irritated at her condition, the fact she was broken and beaten and she wouldn't even allow him the opportunity to fix it. "A week is too much," he growled. "There's something wrong with us. And Bradley knew it."

"It's not us. It's this country. The fact no one saw this coming," Riza breathed. "If we were smarter we would have seen it."

Roy was staring at his feet. Hayate curled into a ball beside his shoes. He nudged the dog gingerly in an effort to scratch beneath his neck. Then when Riza's head came to rest against his shoulder, he jumped out of his skin. He didn't have time to react before her arms curled around one of his. She was crumbling. She kept mumbling, "If we were smarter," and Roy couldn't help but believe her.