Comments: I spotted a spelling error, so I re-uploaded it. This chapter is slightly longer than the previous one, so bear with me please. Feel free to comment or point out any errors I've made.

Roy remembered walking (or rather, limping) out of the burning mansion. He'd lowered Selim gently to the floor and looked around. Then the floor rose to meet his face and there was nothing.

Now he was facing Maes Hughes. And strangely, they were floating in some light-filled place.

"Hey." Maes flashed his trademark grin.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

Maes laughed. "Is that the first thing you ask an old friend? But to answer your question, you're not dead yet."

"I'm not?" Roy blinked, confused. This was definitely odd.

"Afraid not. Now, you'd better get back to where you belong. You're got quite a long time left to live, you rude bastard."

Roy felt himself being propelled in the opposite direction. He spun around and called out. "Maes!"

He waited patiently for Roy to speak.

"Maes… Gracia and Elicia are doing fine. Elicia still looks as cute as ever." He continued. "Will I see you again? Before I die, I mean."

Hughes shrugged and smiled. "Who knows? Now get back to Hawkeye and make some lovely babies."

Roy looked up to reply, but Maes was already fading away into the blinding light. There was a scream. It sounded very much like Hawkeye, but she would never scream.

"–I'm sorry! Please wake up!" Her voice sounded strange. She was crying for him?

The light faded away into darkness. The last thing he remembered was the wetness running down his face and mixing with the blood.

----------

The ambulance came after what felt like years. By that time, Riza had already composed herself. There would be no tears in front of anyone else.

"Lord Selim is safe and will be fine." The doctor regarded her with a critical eye before continuing. "The Brigadier-General might not make it, though. He's in critical condition. It's very fortunate that he's even alive right now, given the amount of blood he's lost and his injuries."

The doctor's words hit her like a slap in the face. She battled to keep her face impassive. For the time being, the business-like side of her won and her poker-face expression remained.

"He's lost quite a bit of blood. Lieutenant, do you know his blood type? He'll need a transfusion, so we need to find a donor and–"

"–It's type A, positive." She looked down at her bloodied hands. If only she'd arrived earlier. "Doctor, I am of the same type. If I could be of any assistance, I will gladly help."

The elderly doctor glanced at her arm and frowned. "You can't. Look, you're already injured."

"…Please, Doctor."

The van rocked as it went over a rut. The doctor saw the desperate plea in her guarded eyes. There was silence for a few moments.

"Very well, Lieutenant. But you do realize Brigadier-General Mustang has a very slim chance."

She would take any chance they had if it meant Roy might survive.

Prompts: Infectious Crying, Death