AN: as you can probably tell from the prologue this is not going to be the cheeriest fic in the world. there is some pretty rough stuff in here, nothing too graphic (I mean riza's an assassin so graphic kinda goes without saying in that sense), but i thought id give a warning anyway! mentions of slavery and physical abuse (not graphic)

that being said i hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

merry christmas!

The runaways are running the night

Before Riza could see his reaction she tore off down the street. She felt the flames lick at her legs, the heat a drastic change from the temperature of the autumn night. She dodged them effortlessly, rolling away and sprinting down the street without looking back. It was late and foot traffic was at a minimum. Someone shouted a few seconds after she left the scene, but it wasn't him. Then a woman's scream.

Riza cursed. This was supposed to be a quiet job, but nothing she hadn't dealt with before. She was a good assassin. A really good one. While that might terrify most Riza took pride in that fact. This world hadn't offered her much so she took what she could get. Her grandfather often praised her skill, but it was not without remorse. She knew this wasn't the life Grumman would have chosen for her. In fact, she saw it in his eyes every time she returned from a job, but there was nothing to be done. In order to free herself and over seventy per cent of Amestris' population she had to do it.

She had to take down Bradley's officials because that was the only way she would get to King Bradley himself. The man had a lot to answer for. The persecution of people – her people – who weren't able to learn alchemy, her own suffering, and the current state of this country.

Poverty was rife around Amestris. All money was used on those who were at the top of society in Central. Each of the major cities had their own alchemist population, but being in Central put you closer to the top of society and left you in Bradley's good graces, so the majority moved to the capital.

As you travelled further out of the main city the condition of the houses deteriorated fairly rapidly. Small time alchemists lived in what Riza and most of those who lived in the slums had dubbed "the middle ring" of Central. This area was full of townhouses, each designed to look like they were high end and luxurious but were so cramped together Riza often thought it gave them the look of sardines, all packed together in the rotten can that was Central. The middle ring was for those who used alchemy to get by in life with the added perk of enjoying basic human rights. However, it was not unheard of for officers to evict people without a moment's notice in order to make way for grander and more powerful alchemists, so really nobody was safe from Bradley's regime.

"The outer ring" was where Riza had been relocated to at fifteen years old against her will. The slums were awful. She'd lived there for a week – well, lived was too cushy a term, more like held there before being transported to the east. Living conditions were extremely poor. Feral orphans lined the streets, the area was stricken with poverty and pollution, and death was on every corner. It was the forgotten part of Central, somewhere Bradley's officers never bothered to visit and police, therefore a whole host of unsavoury activities took place.

Like recruiting assassins.

It truly was a cursed place and one Riza liked to avoid at all costs. Her week there had been more than enough.

People living there were taken in the night away from their families for no real reason, other than to provide the eastern mines with another set of hands. The government never publicly admitted it, but the mines were slave camps. They mined for rock to build the different buildings in "the inner ring". Anything of value was taken away and the founder was offered a reward. Well, if you can consider an extra meal that day a reward. Riza had spent a year there until her grandfather found her. Slaves were lucky if they lived six months in the mines but Riza didn't exactly consider herself lucky for surviving a year.

Riza hooked a right around a corner and into an alley. Footsteps were close behind her but faded as she distanced herself from the street. She grabbed onto a drain pipe and hauled herself up. Shimmying up she grasped the ledge of the roof, easily puling herself into a sitting position. Her legs dangled over the edge and she looked down below. To her surprise, a lone figure entered the alleyway. They paused and looked around frantically.

It was him.

A moment later three more people appeared at the entrance. Orders were called to search the surrounding streets for the assassin.

"Search the surrounding area, I want this murderer found! This is the third time this week," the officer growled. Riza noted the military blue he wore. One of Bradley's men. "Mr. Mustang, sir. Please, can we escort you somewhere safe? I don't want you to become a target as well."

Pause.

"Yes. Of course."

Riza didn't wait around to hear any more. She only had one target tonight and didn't like to take more than was necessary. As she stood another shadow appeared to her right.

"Hey," Jean Havoc greeted. Riza turned to face him. Black cloth covered the bottom half of his face. His mouth and nose were covered, leaving only a break in the material for his eyes. Blonde hair stuck out from the cloth over his head. Apparently not even their assassin's standard outfit could tame that haircut.

She frowned when she noticed a splatter of blood on his cheek. "You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, of course." Riza tapped her own cheek, indicating the stain on his skin. "Oh, that," was all he offered. Havoc shrugged. "It's just the nature of the job."

"Are you hurt?"

Havoc chuckled. "No. The coward barely put up a fight. Opted for spitting on my shoes instead."

With one more glance down at the alley she noticed he was gone. Two officers remained, searching for any sign of where Riza could have disappeared to.

A strange feeling flitted through her at the thought of no longer seeing Roy, but Riza let it go. There was no use dwelling on the past. He had chosen his place now, despite knowing how the majority of the population were treated.

He had chosen to side with Bradley.

Riza thought he would be different. As a teenager he never seemed happy with how the world worked. He had told her about how he wanted to become a powerful alchemist so he could protect and help the people he loved.

Yeah, where was that dream now, asshole, while you are cosying up with Bradley every night?

Riza's target tonight had been a man called Basque Grand. So much for the legendary "Iron Blood Alchemist". Riza had snuck up and ended his life within a matter of seconds. He had no idea what had even hit him. Then again, Riza was very good.

Grand was very close with Bradley. The Fuhrer knew there was a resistance against him but didn't seem overly concerned. Hopefully with this hit, her grandfather said, they would start to take the resistance more seriously.

Riza hadn't anticipated Roy being there tonight. In her gut she knew that one day a hit would go out against him. She wasn't stupid. Despite his changes in loyalty, Riza couldn't help but feel nauseous at the thought of him dying. After all, he was the only person alive who had actually cared about her in her younger years. It may be childish, but those four years they had spent together were the happiest years of her life, and that was saying something about her twenty five years of being alive.

Normally she accepted any hit without cause for complaint and never asked for anybody in particular. However, she had requested, should the time come, she would receive the hit on Mustang. Her grandfather never asked her about her childhood but could sense a connection there. How could you ask a former slave what their life had been like before you met them? Without argument, he'd agreed.

She just wanted to make sure it was quick for him. Because, despite everything, she could never get rid of the memory of him screaming her name as she was dragged from her home to the eastern mines. She wanted to give him one more chance to explain himself, to see if she could change him over to her side like he had been when he was a child. If not…

A small voice inside her head whispered that she might not be ready to face that "what if" just yet. Riza would never admit it to anyone, not even her fellow assassin's, but she wasn't sure if she would ever be strong enough to kill him.

Years later, finding out he was one of Central's elite and rubbed shoulders with the likes of Bradley, it stung. But regardless of that, she would grant him that mercy, should it come. A favour for an old friend. A payment for the kindness he had shown her as a child.

"I'll take the west," Havoc told her. "See you at the Keep?"

Riza nodded and leapt off the edge of the roof into the night air. She landed on the opposite building with a thud, crouching into a roll before taking off at a sprint once more. A voice in her head whispered how, if she ran fast enough, she could escape the feeling coiling in her gut at the thought of Roy Mustang dying. Now that was childish.