Please, if you can avoid it...don't kill me. I apologize for the wait. My lappy got bugs and spyware, and I ended up losing almost all my files. I had to re-write this chapter from scratch. But I'm back now, so we can get back on track, eh?

Anyways, thanks to all my reviewers. I appreciate each and every review, believe me. Oh, and to answer a couple of questions/comments...

Guardian Angel of Wolves: Well, I can't say what happened to the Ho-ster, but you'll learn later.I made Pride sick because it makes him so much more pliable! Besides, it's fun to watch people take care of him.
Houran: EdWin? Hmmm...I hadn't really thought about it. But maybe, if Winry can stop assuming Pride's a delinquent. And some of Pride's "family" will be showing up soon! But what about his real family, I wonder?
Viloia: No, I will not abandon this story, unless I get hit by a car or something. It shall be completed!
Acedia: I know what you mean! Riza plus gun equals scary, very scary. At least she has a soft side.

And now here's the chapter.

4; The Blond Kid Smiles

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I could've done something, I should've...I...I'm sorry..."

Pride's eyes flew open, and he shot up in bed, heart pounding. He looked around, but all he saw was the surrounding guest room.

A dream. It was just a dream. Just a stupid dream. Pride sank back, his heart's pace slowly returning to normal. He reached up to scratch a tickling itch on his face and realized he was crying.

Hastily Pride rubbed the tears off, wiping his nose on the bedcovers. What was the matter with him? He needed to get a grip. Staying here was making him come undone, he realized, sitting back up. Riza and her questions. Winry and her questions. Roy and his suspicious absence of questions. If he broke down in this house who knew what would happen?

He scanned the room, looking for his things. His shoes were lined up neatly beside the door. His pants were folded on top of the dresser. He hoped his top was inside the dresser somewhere, along with his gloves.

Silently, Pride slipped out of bed. His bare feet made no noise on the carpet as he crossed over to the dresser. He picked up his pants and started opening drawers. In the third one he found his gloves and top, as hoped.

He got dressed in the dark and grabbed his shoes, putting them on as he crossed to the window. He unlocked and raised it. No screen.

Pride took a deep breath, then put a leg outside the window. He hesitated, glancing back at the guest room. He knew he needed to get out of here before these people learned every little thing about him. But a part of him did want to stay and try and make a normal life. To finally leave the others behind and start over--

He shook his head to push away the ridiculous thoughts. Who was he kidding? It was like Greed had said. He could never leave. He was marked for life. Besides, he did not want this innocent couple to be killed because of his selfish wants. This was good for all parties involved, Pride convinced himself.

So he threw his other leg out the window.

Saturday, April 15th

Even though she had mastered the art of not showing her emotions on her face, Roy had been around Riza long enough to know when she was upset. And she was really upset now.

"Do you think he went back to his life of crime?" Winry asked Roy.

Roy glanced at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. "Winry, you know what Riza would say if she heard you talking like that," he said sternly.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Winry countered.

"Just keep an eye out for him."

Roy's cell phone rang, and he flipped it open with one hand, lifting it to his ear. "No, we haven't found him," he said.

"Keep looking. He's out here somewhere," Riza said in a steely tone. She quickly disconnected, as if every moment spent on the phone was another crucial moment she might miss seeing him.

"So how long are we going to drive aimlessly around town?" Winry asked.

"Until Riza gives us permission to go back home."

"You're whipped," Winry teased.

Roy shot her a look. "This is very serious to Riza, Winry. Let's save the jokes for later."

"Sorry." Winry crossed her arms and settled back into her seat, keeping a vague lookout for a dark green head. After a moment, she glanced at Roy and said, "Isn't it serious to you, too?"

"Of course. He's a human being. I don't want him dead."

"But you sound like you don't like him or something," Winry pressed.

Roy sighed. "I haven't decided to smother him with affection, if that's what you're driving at," he said.

"It seems like this Pride jerk's causing you guys a lot of trouble," Winry went on. "So he ran back to whatever rat hole he operates out of. Let him go. It's good because now he won't have stolen anything before he left."

With a shake of his head, Roy glanced at her again. "You really don't like him, huh?"

"I dislike most shadowy, delinquent figures," Winry shot back. "He's inconveniencing you guys, and he could be a serial killer."

"Maybe so, but Riza's attached to him now, and she won't let him go without a gunfight," Roy pointed out.

Roy's cellphone rang again. He put it to his ear. "Still nothing, Riza," he told her.

"Let's go home," Riza said.

She paced, back and forth. Every once in a while she'd stop, raise a finger to her mouth and check her cellphone, and then start again. She would wear a hole in the floor by dinnertime.

"Riza, try not to be upset," Roy practically begged. "I'm sure he's fine."

"If he went back to that gang, no he's not," Riza replied without even looking up at her husband. "They'll hurt him. They'll probably kill him for running away."

Roy sighed. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now, so maybe it's best to just forget about it."

Never in Roy's womanizing life had he nearly been killed by a glare as piercing as the one Riza gave him at that moment. Roy raised his hands in surrender and wisely backed away. "I'm only saying," he said slowly. "You look upset."

"Because I am," Riza said dangerously. "I was trying to help Pride, and now I'm angry with him and you."

"I'm sorry," Roy said sincerely. "I just hate to see you like this."

Riza sighed heavily. "I know. I'm just..." She bit her lip and looked away. "I just wish he hadn't run away. I could've done so much for him."

Roy came over and put an arm around her shoulders. "You did the best you could," he reminded her gently. "It's his fault for not accepting the help, but don't blame yourself, Riza."

"It's hard not to," Riza pointed out.

"Try. Now why don't we eat dinner, and tomorrow we can start searching again, all right?"

Riza nodded slowly, then looked up at her husband and nodded again. "All right."

Monday, April 17th

The sun would be setting soon. Riza saw her last customer off and then started closing up shop. Winry had left that morning, being picked up by Alex Armstrong. In her wake she had left her completed project: an old rifle from the late 1800s, now proudly displayed in the antique section of the store. It nicely rounded out the collection of old guns.

Riza flipped off all the lights, then turned the sign so that Closed was displayed outside. She backed out the front door, holding the key in the lock until it had closed, and then locked the storefront. She turned--and started.

Pride stood a few feet away, wearing a sweatshirt over his traditional outfit. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair looked messy again. Riza stared at him for a moment, shocked, then schooled her features into her scary office mode and approached.

"Where have you been?" she asked calmly. "Why did you leave, Pride?"

Pride said nothing, but instead looked down at the ground. Riza stood in front of him. "Well? Why did you disappear for three days?" When he said nothing, she went on. "Did you go back to your gang?"

"'Snot a gang," he mumbled, sounding tired.

Riza felt herself softening at his weary voice, but she pushed it down. "I told you I wouldn't let you leave," she said. "You successfully made a fool out of me, so why come back?"

"...I got scared."

This was a surprise. Riza looked down at his bowed head. "Scared of what?"

"Of what they'd do."

"Then why did you leave in the first place?"

Pride didn't answer for a moment. Riza waited.

"Because I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of being the cause of your death."

"I told you we could handle ourselves," Riza said.

Pride slowly shook his head. "I'm...sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"For putting you in danger. But...I'm scared to go back."

"Then don't," Riza said in a softer tone, reaching out to Pride. He stiffened when her arm floated around his shoulders, but he didn't pull away. "Stay with us, and stop worrying. We will be fine."

Pride looked up, and Riza noted the redness in his eyes. Had he been crying? "I'm not supposed to say so much to you. I...I was supposed to keep my mouth shut. You shouldn't know anything about me." It was like he was arguing with himself, instead of speaking to her.

"But I do," Riza said, seeing a chance. "And I don't think you told me unwillingly. Something in you must want to have someone to confide in. And I'll be that person, Pride. I will always be there for you if you need me."

"You say that like it's true," Pride said, his voice surprisingly unsteady.

Riza smiled softly at him. "It is. Where would I go? I would die to defend you. All I ask is that you accept my help."

"I c...I don't know," Pride said, looking back down at the ground.

"Well, while you don't know, come back to the house," Riza said. "You look exhausted."

"I am."

When Roy saw Pride, he didn't express his surprise. He simply looked at his wife, who had an arm around Pride's shoulders, and shrugged. "Welcome back, kid," he said.

Pride looked at him almost questioningly for a moment before looking back down.

"Why don't you head upstairs to your room?" Riza suggested, giving him a gentle push towards the stairs. Pride headed for the stairs and climbed them slowly.

Roy waited until he heard the sound of Pride's door closing to turn to Riza. "You didn't kill him on sight?" he said. "I'm surprised."

"No," Riza replied, shaking her head. "I was just too relieved he actually came back."

"Now that shocks me," Roy said. "Did he tell you why?"

"Yes. He's afraid of what his gang would do to him. He also apologized for putting us in danger." Riza was silent for a moment, then said, "I think he realized there was an element of safety here, and that's why he came back."

Roy furrowed a brow in thought. "But all he could talk about was leaving," he pointed out. "Then, when he finally does get away, he just ends up coming back three days later?"

"He's changed his mind," Riza said firmly. "And now, I think I'll finally be able to reach him."

Roy shrugged. "All right. As long as he doesn't run away again and get you all worked up."

"Shut up, Roy," Riza said primly, heading to the kitchen.

Roy smirked and followed.

Monday, April 24th

One week later, Pride was still there. His injuries from the fight were completely healed, leaving only faint scars in a few areas, and even the infection had passed. Pride was still very prickly about his past and his gang, but he did warm up a little to Riza. He often helped her with dinner, which surprised Riza. He was an excellent cook.

On Friday, Pride surprised Riza yet again by asking her if he could help her out in her shop a little. When she reminded him it was a gun shop, full of guns, and gun paraphernalia, Pride just nodded and said, "I know." He took to becoming the unofficial janitor--sweeping, mopping, dusting, wiping, cleaning, and organizing. His efforts helped Riza immensely, and she was able to get a lot more done each day.

He didn't warm up as much to Roy, however, simply because he didn't see him very much. Roy had to go to work, so most of Pride's time was either spent with Riza or a book in the study. When they weren't at Riza's Armory, Riza and Pride would sit in silence in the study, reading and working on guns, respectively.

On this particular day, Riza and Pride were giving the shop a final clean up before closing for the day. Riza hauled her bucket of dirty water over to the sink and dumped it. She rinsed the remaining dirt out of the bucket and washed her hands. "Almost ready?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

Pride nodded from where he was scrubbing a few stains off the floor, made by some inconsiderate boob spilling their drink. He kept having to stop and push his hair out of his face, and he looked a little frustrated.

Riza, considering, walked over. "Do you need something to hold your hair back?" she asked, digging in her jeans pocket and producing an elastic ponytail holder.

"Nah, I'm good." Pride continued scrubbing, still stopping and swiping every few seconds.

"Actually, I think you do," Riza commented, kneeling behind him. "Hold still for a second." She reached out and took his hair in her hand. Pride's entire body immediately went stiff, but he didn't say anything to her.

Riza absently combed her fingers through Pride's hair. When he actually did something to it, besides smoothing down flyaways, it felt nice. She wished her hair felt as nice as this, and resolved to get Pride to start taking better care of his hair. Honestly, he needed more in his hair care collection than a comb with half the teeth broken out and a brush about as effective as a hot dog.

"I was thinking," Riza said as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Perhaps you'd like to go clothes shopping sometime this week? I know you might not enjoy wearing Roy's old clothes."

"They're fine," Pride said stiffly. Both he and Riza glanced down at the oversized button-up shirt and jeans he wore. The shirt was tucked in to avoid getting in his way, and the sleeves and hems of the pants were rolled up.

Riza started to pull Pride's hair into a loose ponytail, but she paused for a moment, considering the dark green hair in her hand. She pulled the elastic out and separated the hair into three chunks. "Pride, can I ask you a question about your hair?"

"My...hair?" Pride repeated.

Riza nodded as she started to weave the strands together.

"Um, I guess."

"What color is it really?"

Pride glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and he was frowning.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want," Riza said, wrapping the elastic around the end of the braid she had just done. "I was just curious." She had noticed he had even dyed his brows, so the color was a mystery. To add to it, he hadn't had any roots grow in yet. She wondered if his hair was darker, like Roy's, or maybe in the blond family like her. Maybe it was fiery red. She smiled at the thought of subdued Pride with fiery red hair.

"Am I done?"

"Oh. Yes you are." Riza patted his back slightly, and Pride's hand reached back to touch his hair. His brow furrowed when he felt the braid, and he turned to Riza.

She blinked, then smiled. "You should wear your hair like that more often."

"Eh?" Pride tilted his head slightly, and his bangs, which Riza had barely been able to pull back, immediately slipped from the braid and fell down around his face.

"That's even better," Riza said. "It makes you look cute, Pride."

Pride's cheeks flushed, and he looked away. "Um...thanks," he mumbled.

Riza got to her feet, subconsciously brushing her knees off. "I'll go ahead and check the back. Let me know when you're done, okay?" She turned around and started for the door leading to the storeroom.

"...Blond."

"Pardon?" Riza turned around.

Pride was holding his scrubbing brush in two hands, and staring down at it. His face was red again. "My...hair, I mean. It's blond. More, uh, goldeny than yours, though."

Riza blinked in surprise, then she smiled warmly. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Pride," she said sincerely.

Pride looked up at her for a moment, but he lost his nerve and looked back down. "You're welcome," he mumbled, attacking the stain on the floor with renewed vigor.

Wednesday, April 26th

As promised, Riza closed her shop early and took Pride out to go clothes shopping, despite his protests. She left a note for Roy in case he came back before they did.

"Seriously, you don't have to do this," Pride said, tugging anxiously on the red shirt of Roy's he wore. "I can just wear Mr. Roy's clothes. It's no big deal."

"It is to me," Riza replied, leading him by the wrist to the mall. Pride tried to shrink into nothing as they merged into crowds of people. Even on a Wednesday afternoon, the mall was still crowded with everyone and their freaking cousin. Pride unconsciously pulled his hat lower, trying to hide his whole face.

"Don't worry, we won't be here long. Just three stores, okay?" Riza said.

Pride was too busy trying to be inconspicuous to reply.

The first store they went to was full of what Pride would call preppy socialite clothes. The only thing he would let Riza buy him from there were khaki pants, since everything else fell under the "sweater vest" and "high waters" category. Riza had to have Pride try on several different sizes of clothes before she finally figured out what size he wore. He couldn't tell her himself because he didn't know. He never bought clothes.

The next store they went to was a little better. It had clothes for more different kinds of people. Riza found several things there that Pride felt all right being caught dead in, as well as a few pairs of shoes. Riza also found an accessories section and forced a brush, comb, and a plastic container of elastics on him. She even bought him shampoo and conditioner. Pride had never felt more like a girl in his life.

Finally, their last stop was a store Pride was surprised Riza would actually go into, and he mentioned this aloud.

"Of course I would," Riza replied as they walked through the beaded doorway of Goth Spark. "You might find something you like here."

Pride didn't doubt it. They carried clothes that matched his regular outfit: leather, dark stuff, dark stuff made of leather, plus accessories you thought you'd only see in a motorcycle gang. Pride found plenty of things in here he'd like to wear, and he was able to get whatever he wanted, as long as he followed Riza's two rules. 1: No midriff-showing tops. 2: No pants with the butt cut out. Barring that, everything was up for grabs.

"You want anything else?" Riza asked once both of them had clothes draped over their arms.

Pride scanned the area briefly. He doubted it. This was enough to last him the rest of his life, probably. He didn't need to get into buying a lot of stuff anyway--

A flash of red caught Pride's attention, and he walked over to the display rack. A red coat was mashed in-between all the others. Riza had come with him, and she took the clothes he handed her so he could push the other clothes back and pull out the coat.

It had a very long hem, just a little past Pride's knees, and was solid red with a hood. Sewn on the back was a cross with snake wrapped around it, and a crown and wings floated over both. The whole design was in black.

Pride fell in love with it. He turned to Riza, coat in hand. "Can we get this too?" he pleaded.

"Let me see the back," Riza commanded. Pride turned it around. Riza examined the design and then looked it up and down. "All right. Add it to the pile."

Pride nodded, and out of nowhere a smile crept over his face. "Thank you, Miss Riza," he said.

Riza blinked in surprise, and then smiled herself. "You're welcome. Come on, let's go to checkout."

Pride nodded, taking all the clothes from Riza's left arm.

Bear with my tardyness, and please review.