Here's the next chapter! Please read and review! Also, just to let you guys know, I plan on updating at least once a month. Not really sure when though, due to my crazy schedule. We hope you enjoy the next installment!

Disclaimer: We do not own Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist, or FMA: Brotherhood. They belong to their respective owners.

Author's Note: Italics are Riza's thoughts.

~warehouseluver13~


I grumbled under my breath as soon as I was sure Father couldn't hear me. He had brought in ash and char. Again. Another set of footprints wandered throughout the house, no doubt from Mustang trying so hard to find Father in every room except the study in his panic. The soot-walkers are multiplying. And growing dumber.

I managed to remove Father's sooty prints; they were at least lighter. But Mustang's tracks were heavy, since he was running at full throttle when he put them down. "One of these days, someone's going to realize just how inconvenient they are and beg for my forgiveness. That's not too much to hope for, right?" I mumbled to myself. That girl in the Xingese story never had to do anything strenuous or humiliating like this until she joined the military. Here I am, a proud Amestrian floor-scrubber and dish-washer living with two alchemists that seem bent on wielding fiery chaos until the whole house is black. I hate this. I hate all of it.

I want to be with Mother again...

A faint voice called my name, softly. It brushed past at the edge of my hearing, seeming almost dreamlike. I stopped scrubbing at the stubborn bootprint and cocked my head to listen. It sounded almost like Mother…

The voice grew louder and rougher, snapping me out of my daydream. "Hey. Riza. Can you hear me?" I turned around, still on my hands and knees, to see a sliver of eye peeking out from under the door behind me. Roy's room. My face turned red, and I stood up quickly, preparing to scorch him like the fire and ash he apparently loved to cover himself with, when he muttered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I startled you, just… come on. Come in, I'm hiding from your skinny behemoth of a dad."

I opened the door, trying not to giggle as it thumped into his forehead. Payback... He stood up and waved a strange pair of gloves in the air, whispering frantically. "I need your help. You see, your dad - eh, my Master - gave me an assignment, and I've been having difficulty completing it." He put on the gloves, and I saw what could only be an alchemical circle traced in red on the backs of the hands. I shook my head slowly as he continued. "I have to make fire with these, but I can't get them to work! I've tried almost everything, but I just can't get a spark up!"

I shook my head a little more, for emphasis, and mumbled, "I'm no alchemist. It's none of my business that you're stupid." Watching his hurt expression, I sighed in defeat. "Look," I whispered harshly, "as much as I hate to say this, it might not be entirely your fault; quite unlike the tracks I was cleaning up, might I add, those were all your fault."

He blushed guiltily, but listened carefully as I continued. "My father most likely gave you one of his older sets of gloves. He's got a few, I've had to repair most of them after they failed."

"Failed?" Mustang's eyebrows rose incredulously.

"Yes, failed. The earlier ones never worked quite right. Maybe he gave you the ones that wouldn't start to test your patience."

"Son of a bitch… Okay, then. One more try, and that's it for now." He blinked, glanced at the gloves, and blinked again. "What haven't I tried?"

I thought back to the times when Father didn't yet have his Ash Castle. I heard a lot of different sounds from his study before explosions ever thundered against my ears. I just had to remember the last one…

"Father snapped," I blurted, looking at the gloves. "To use the gloves, he eventually started getting the best results when he tried snapping."

The apprentice's wide, dark eyes rolled in his head as he cursed some more. "Aw, fuck...Of course. Why didn't I think of it? The high friction in a small area is ideal for generating heat!" He put one of the gloves on, and I backed away slowly.

"Don't worry," he said. "These are the faulty ones, right? They couldn't possibly generate enough power to cause any damage." Before I could stop him, Mustang had

snapped his fingers, and I stumbled into a corner as a large, roiling cloud of flames burst into existence for a fraction of a second. Reeking fumes wafted from the apprentice's burnt hair and shirt, and I quickly smothered the smoldering edges of the burns with the long coat he had hung on a nail in the wall.

"Faults don't always mean weaknesses," I sighed, slapping one last time at the coat before making sure there was nothing else to connect me to the scene.

Just when I thought this one was more intelligent than the others, he decides to be stupid and reckless. Hopefully Father won't be too angry when he finds out what his young apprentice attempted to do within the house.

Who am I kidding? He'll be angry, all right… "You should have done this in the Ash Castle, Mustang. Now come on. Take those off and don't say anything." I gestured to the gloves and his ruined shirt.

"Wh-what?!" He hastily stripped the shirt off, but quickly grabbed the coat I had used to put him out, draping it over himself and quickly buttoning it up after getting his arms through the sleeves. As his hands emerged, I snatched at the gloves impatiently. "Hey, watch it!" he hissed.

I rolled my eyes. "Get to the bunker and try to act like you have no idea what you're doing; it shouldn't be hard. I'll make sure he can't tell anything happened here." His bewildered eyes met my hard glare.

"Why are you doing this for me? I kinda thought you couldn't stand me…" His face looked so honestly flustered.

I quickly glanced at Mustang. "Well, I've seen what my Father has done to his past apprentices that have made mistakes; trust me, it's better for both of us if he doesn't find out about this." What the hell, Riza? This apprentice hasn't even been here for 48 hours, and you've already grown attached to him like a vine to a tree! Focus! Get your act together! At the rate he's going, who knows if he will even make it to the end of his first week!

A shy smile crossed his features. "Well, uh, thank you, Riza. I really appreciate you doing this for me." I said nothing in response as the dark-haired apprentice made his exit from the room to make his way to the Ash Castle.

After making absolutely sure that any charred scraps from his burnt shirt were gone and opening up the window to ventilate the room, I followed him over to the one place I had never been inside. I didn't want to go in, and Father never asked me to, so I had maintained a safe distance, but now… Mustang's position here depended on this, and idiot or no, he actually wanted to be nice to me. I couldn't let that go, no matter how hard I tried.

I heard Mustang talking to my Father, even before I approached within ten feet of the structure. The two windows had no glass or shutters, just bars, so sound carried easily. They didn't sound upset, so I assumed that Father had been fooled by Mustang's charade. He must have some passing skill at acting. The idea should have been a comfort, since that meant he wouldn't be thrown out, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't such a good thing. What if his kind attitude is an act, too? What if my sympathy for him is based on...a lie?

A quiet snap preceded a loud burst of rushing sound, a heavy WHOOMPF that almost made me jump. A pillar of smoke rose from the other side of the Castle, and I rushed around the building to see the grass outside of it burning! I ran back to the side of the house, snatching up the huge tub I used to wash the clothes. Frantically, I planted it under the spigot set into the wall, pouring out as much water as I could. As the rising cloud of smoke expanded, I yanked the little wheel closed and hauled the half-full basin over to the patch of smoldering lawn, almost throwing myself off-balance in my attempt to put out the spreading flames. The water sloshed heavily over the grass, and it turned into a large grey-brown wave as the charred plant life disintegrated under the water's sweeping force.

I sent a dark glare directly at Mustang as he gaped through the window at the patch of soot he had burned into the ground. Father looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or shout, and he finally calmed down long enough to explain. "Those gloves are functional, but they lack any sort of precision. In order to do anything as simple as lighting a candle, you need to exert total focus. They're perfect for training reckless fools like you. Trust me, Roy, you'll have no trouble with the final product once you master these disasters."

Mustang and I both stared in shock at Father, but as I should have expected, he only noticed the apprentice's reaction. "You gave me these things on purpose?" A muscle on Mustang's neck twitched in time with his eyebrow. "If they're so damn unpredictable, couldn't they kill us?!"

"If you can't focus enough to control them, it's a possibility that flame alchemy is not for you, anyway." Father spoke dispassionately, barely acknowledging the obvious anger Mustang felt. "It takes willpower to keep something as dangerous as fire in check. If you want to control it, you need to control yourself first. Start with your thoughts, and then work on your alchemy. One is not ever separate from the other."

I never really had the chance to see Father actually teaching a pupil, but the advice he gave Mustang had some meaning behind it. It honestly surprised me. Who knew Father had it in him to actually mentor an apprentice? Another voice startled me. It was Mustang. "What about you? How can you talk to me about controlling myself when every time I see you talking to your own daughter, you're shouting? She works hard for you, and you don't give her a thing."

I looked at him wide eyed. Does he even realize who he's facing off against?! Is he trying to get hurt or something? What the hell is he thinking, speaking out of turn to his teacher?

Father's face went totally red, and I slowly dragged the wooden tub away, hoping to escape notice for just a little longer. Mustang was about to get into a fight with an older, more experienced alchemist, and if things got physical… or even alchemical… I had no intention of being there to witness it. I just… I didn't want to see that from the outside. Being in a fight with my Father is hard enough, but having to watch one… I don't want to see my bruises on Mustang's face.

Father grabbed the apprentice's collar, lifting him into the air by his heavy coat. "You had better watch your tongue, boy! It could get you into trouble you can't outfox, you know." His voice was cold, but I could hear the roaring anger behind it, see the feral glint of rage in his eyes. "Riza is none of your concern. Her life is connected to yours by a single thread, and that's me. If you want to defend her so badly, then know this: I am her guardian, her caretaker, and her blood parent. I have put my energy towards two children, and she is one of them. The other is my alchemy. Only one of the pair still needs me to be nurturing."

His gnarled fists release, and Mustang falls heavily to the floor of the Ash Castle. I abandon the tub, taking off at a sprint into the forest behind the laundry tree as Father emerges from the steel and stone structure. He's still angry. I know it, I can feel it. He might think I told that stupid apprentice to say that. He might come after me, too. I have to go where he won't follow me!

*EOHH*

The rush of my heartbeat pulsed through my ears as I frantically took off running through the forest that abuts the yard, racing towards the last place Father would ever go near; Mother's water garden. It was once her sanctuary when she was alive, and became her final resting place when she died. I let out a sigh of relief once I made it into the clearing that housed the pond. It was modest in size, and a small island sat in the middle, with a beautiful tree that was planted to mark Mother's resting place.

My breath still rattled in my chest as I stared at the small tree in the distance. It had only been here for five years, but ever since it was planted, I had grown to love it even as Father tried to hate it. Its leaves quivered in the light breeze that pushed its way through the trees and bushes surrounding the clearing. The flickers of green seemed almost unreal, and I knew that this, somehow, was how Mother must have looked at every tree she saw.

I sat on the ground in front of the wide, shallow pond, watching ripples drift across the greenish water. A tiny minnow swam up to investigate my presence, and I smiled at its curiosity as I finally began to relax. I took off my shoes and dipped my toes in the water, startling the miniscule fish and creating more calming ripples.

*snap*

Fwoomp!

A rush of heat swept past my face, and I smelled the stink of burning...something. A small blackened shape sailed past my head, and it landed about a foot to my left. It was smoking. Whirling in surprise, I thought for sure I would see my furious Father… but a dark eye shone from within the brush, and a white glove extended from the sleeve of a dark blue coat. Mustang stepped out into the clearing, gesturing apologetically to the tiny black husk. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to scare you. In fact, it was kinda the opposite… I couldn't help noticing you're terrified of spiders. I, ah, I saw the one on your shoe, when you were doing the laundry."

I felt a building anger towards Mustang, and tried to figure out how he had even followed me here in the first place. "This isn't just some place you can waltz into and flash that stupid smile and hope you get in my good favor! This is...wait. What?" I glanced back at the little black thing, my skin crawling. "That's a...a spider?"

"It was going to drop on you. I had to do something, but you just looked so happy. I didn't want to bother you, so...I got it." He held up his right hand, wiggling his fingers and displaying the transmutation circle.

Was he expecting a thank you, or something? Wait a minute… He actually got it. Using Father's defective flame alchemy gloves, he… he killed a spider. For me.

"You got it."

"Yeah." He walked slowly over to me, sitting next to me and crossing his legs.

"But you don't understand. Roy… you actually got it. You just killed a spider with defective gloves." I stared at his face, watching the amazement dawn in his eyes.

"I did, didn't I?! I… I actually hit a target! A tiny, moving target! This is amazing!" He stopped, his eyes slowly shifting from staring excitedly at the gloves to looking into my eyes. "And...you...just said my name. You called me Roy."

I replayed what I said to him over and over, processing the fact that I had indeed called him by his first name. I couldn't believe it. Of all the times to lapse… I tried to close my mouth, which had been hanging open, but it felt like I still wanted to say something. What? What was I going to say?

His face broke into a wide grin, and he began laughing. "I can't believe this. You actually do sorta like me. It's incredible, I thought I would never get on your good side!"

I shyly smiled back. "Don't push your luck, Roy." I could feel my cheeks heating up, and tried to look away from him.

He continued to laugh as he lightly brushed his shoulder against mine. "I wouldn't dream of it, Riza." My smile, the crack in the wall I had built, started splitting wider. I tried to stop it, begged to keep the damage minimal, but some part of me didn't want to.

It felt liberating. I smiled, and I could feel my eyes wrinkle upwards a bit. Warmth spread throughout my body, and I felt a little more… alive than before. The tree rustled again, and I swear I could hear the wind whispering encouragingly. If this is what it's like to be damaged… break me open. I don't want this wall anymore.

I watched the sunlight play along the water, reflecting itself on Roy's face in the wake of my toes' idle twiddling. Roy seems to be very… real, all of a sudden. Does he feel like this, too?

Is he as damaged as I am?

"So." His voice broke my train of thought. "I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but why did you run here? What makes it different?"

I lightly kicked my feet in the shallow pond, startling the marine life away from the surrounding area, trying to buy myself some time to put my thoughts in order. Can I really trust him? Do I really trust him enough to tell him about Mother?

I don't know. But… I think I want to.

"It's...it's a reminder of my Mother." I sighed, not wanting to bother him with the whole story. "She...She's dead. We buried her on that little island over there. Under that tree." I felt a gentle touch against my back, and looked to see Roy's arm stretched out to comfort me. His eyes were shining with the hints of tears. My own began to well up in response. "She loved it out here, with all of the trees and flowers, and the river running through it. It was her passion, she loved the world. It's the whole reason our house is here, the reason I still keep her field guides in my bookshelf. She was a naturalist."

"You know," Roy mumbled, his usually strong voice shaking a little, "I think it's brave of you. You know, to be like her. Your father's hard, like he can't stop hating everything, but you sound like you can't keep yourself from loving it. It's...beautiful."

I shake my head, hot streams of tears now falling down my cheeks. "He isn't like that, not really. He's just hurting, and he's mad at himself more than anything."

"That's no excuse for the way he treats you. If you take after her as much as I think you might, why doesn't he treat you like a daughter instead of a housemaid?"

I looked at him, at his clenched jaw and shaking fist. "He can't bear it," I whispered, putting my own hand over his, pushing his fist down gently. "I'm too much like her. He loves my Mother so much that he hates me because I'm like her, and he can't figure out what's right. I know it's wrong, but he can't help himself. I know he's cruel, but he just misses her." I know I hate him too, but I can't accept that he really deserves it...

"That doesn't mean I have to like it!" Roy looked at me, and his gaze softened. "Although…" A wry, half-humorous smile crossed his face, and he started to laugh. "I know how he feels, I think," he mumbled dryly. "I've spent my whole life missing people I've never met."

I glanced at his eyes, wondering what his remark meant. He was staring at Mother's tree, and he looked so sad all of a sudden, as if he'd been hiding himself just like me.

"Your parents?" I softly asked. He just nodded, his nose wrinkling upward.

"They left me on the steps of a tavern. The owner took me in, raised me like I was hers, but I knew I wasn't. I still use her last name, though. It's only fair. She's the closest thing to a mother I'll ever get." He chuckled, still looking like he was as far from laughter as a funeral. "You still have your parents, or at least reminders of who they were. The only evidence I have of my parents' existence is me."

I looked at him, as if he was an enigma. So kind and polite, even with all that loss in him. Whoever raised him definitely did a good job… unlike his actual parents. At that thought, I began to grow furious towards the phantom strangers that had dared to leave this boy in the street. What kind of parent decides to abandon their child like that? Why would they leave a baby in front of a tavern?! My teeth gritted, but Roy waved his hand. "I don't really blame them too much anymore; knowing the world we live in, they probably had reasons. I just wish they had given me something besides my first name to go along with this heap of problems most people call life."

"That doesn't excuse their actions; really, leaving you on the steps of a tavern!" I icily hissed.

Roy laughed again. "Now look who's talking. Looks like we're just a circle of screwed-up childhoods all tangled up in a knot now. I can't seem to let yours go, and you can't let go of mine. What a mess."

I cautiously reached for his hand, taking it into my own. "At least, with all this mess, something good has come out of the wreckage. I… I have a friend now." He blinked, glancing at my fingers lightly wrapping around his before looking back to Mother's tree, another beauty born of tragedy.

"Yeah," he muttered, smiling once more. "Yeah, you do."

*EOHH*

Glinting dewdrops were all that remained of the huge splash I had thrown over the smoldering grass by the time we breached the edge of the forest. We walked back to the house together, trying to hide our smiles from each other. As awful as it felt to close myself back up, I eventually felt uncomfortable letting tears and laughter flow so freely; the walls that had once held my soul in were still its refuge, and I was afraid that I might not be strong enough to handle more wounds to my spirit.

But it was still there, the feeling of freedom that I had embraced in that clearing with Mother's tree. I wasn't used to opening up to anything but pain and sorrow back there. Now I had something good to feel. Maybe...maybe I might get used to it, eventually. I looked at Roy out of the corner of my eye, a strange thought occurring to me. Maybe if she were alive...would Mother like him?

"Where have you been, both of you?" I froze my face into an image of perfect neutrality as my Father's voice intruded on my thoughts. Oh no. I hope Father has had enough time to cool off. "Mustang, your test results were due at least half an hour ago. Have you successfully managed to get a flame within ten feet of your intended target?"

Roy's mouth twitched into a smirk, but quickly leveled out as he replied, "Actually, Master, I hit an intended target dead-on. I killed a spider!" I shot a sideways glance at him, wondering why he was so totally confident in his skills. He did it once, but what would happen if he can't repeat it?!

Father raised an eyebrow, daring Roy to prove his impressive feat. "Go on," he drawled icily. "Pick a spider. Any spider. There are probably hundreds out here." I shuddered, sweeping my eyes over the suddenly threatening grass.

Roy looked at me first, his eyes concerned, before glancing at a web I had been avoiding all week near the roof of the house. A thin smile spreading across his face, he said, "That one right there," and pointed to the web stretched between the house's roof and the near end of the clothesline. My eyes widened, and I quickly shook my head, hoping he'd notice the warning. But he put on the glove, saying, "It'll be deep-fried in a second."

Father stared intently at the miniscule black dot in the silken net, a frown creasing his already wrinkled face further. Roy winked at me, and I stopped walking as he continued forward, snapping his fingers almost lazily. He made it look effortless, but I could see the determination in his face.

A small ball of roiling flames appeared far above the house, flashing an awkward ellipse before sizzling out. Roy's face fell, and I watched the web flutter in the wind, untouched.

"The next time you lie, Mustang," Father growled, "try to at least do so convincingly. Then at least you might just avoid the punishment you so rightly deserve." Roy spluttered helplessly as Father turned to go back inside. "The radio forecasts a bit of a chill tonight. You will stay out here until you have actually succeeded in your assigned test, without exceptions." He stopped at the door, turning his head slightly over his shoulder. "Come, Riza. It's time to get started on dinner."

I hesitantly walked forward, watching the barest flickers of emotion play across Roy's still face. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and he turned away from me, his fists clenching as I went inside to make a meal he was forbidden from eating.


We had a blast writing this chapter, so if you want to tell us your thoughts, leave us a comment below!

Also, please check out DarksteelRebelhawk's stories on Wattpad! They're amazing!

~warehouseluver13~