A/N: I've mentioned that I've been re-reading the FMA manga in what spare time I have for such things; I just passed this spot in Volume 10. It still gets my heart racing, and not just because it involves Halfway-Shirtless-and-Incredibly-Pissed-Off!Roy being awesome. Arakawa is an extremely gifted writer and artist, and the way it's drawn just pulls me right in.

I do not own FMA.

Twenty-one - Repentance/Confession

"I have a favour to ask of you, Mr. Mustang." Her voice was quiet, her eyes still on the mound of gravel that obscured the body of some unfortunate Ishvalan child. But the words themselves were firm; determined. "My back. I want you to burn it beyond recognition."

His eyes went wide. "What?!" How could she sit there, and say something like that so calmly? "I could never do such a thing!" After all the pain he'd already caused in this war, she wanted him to hurt her, too?

"You have to!" Her posture, already slouched in fatigue, leaned forward as she pressed her hands to the ground; he could see her shoulders shaking as she fought to keep herself under control. "If I can't repent, then the least I can do is prevent the creation of another Flame Alchemist. I want the secret that's written on my back to become illegible."

With a short, gasping inhale, Riza's eyes snapped open from the dream. For a moment, panic suffused her chest as a wall of white met her vision and pressed against her nose and mouth; belatedly, she realized she was face-down in the pillow. Turning her head, she squinted in the room's bright light.

"Hey," a nearby voice said softly. Her eyes adjusted slowly, bringing the familiar tousle-haired figure of Roy Mustang into focus. His expression was unreadable as he crouched beside the bed. "How do you feel?"

Carefully, Riza brought her arms up alongside her chest and pushed experimentally. Muscles across her shoulders and mid-back protested, causing her to grit her teeth. His second visit to her in the hospital, a week since he'd performed her so-called 'favour,' and it still hurt, but she didn't care.

Roy reached out, supporting her as she worked at sitting up. "I guess I have my answer . . . ."

Shooting him a glare, Riza finally sat upright, her shoulders straight and back to ease the pull on the still-healing burns. "Get that look off your face, Mr. Mustang. You know as well as I do that I asked for this," she said, voice soft and low, but no less stern.

"Whether you asked for it or not, I still agreed to it," he snapped back. "Unlike you, I'm not so sure the ends justifies the means!"

"With all due respect, sir, would you rather see one person in pain or watch a potential maniac unleash Hell on an innocent population?" She glared up at him through the blonde curtain of her bangs. "You can't expect me to believe you'd choose the latter."

He returned the look. "And will putting yourself through that kind of Hell make the fact you gave me this power go away? That's what your guilt is really about, isn't it! Because if you hadn't decided to trust me, then I would still be an ordinary soldier."

Hot tears pricked at Riza's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Exactly," she said quietly. "I was just as naïve as you were. Maybe more so, because I made the choice to entrust you with such a deadly secret. I assisted in the slaughter of the Ishvalan people not just as a sharpshooter, but as the source of Flame Alchemy. That, if nothing else, is something I can never atone for."

Roy stared at her for a moment, then sat down beside her. "On the technical level, you're right. But there are some things you're forgetting to factor in. How many lives have you saved with your shooting? Start counting with me and Hughes, see how far you can go. Add to that how many times I was able to save myself or someone else with Flame Alchemy." He looked sideways at her to gauge her reaction.

"And don't forget, you might have given me a very powerful tool of destruction, but you also gave me a tool to rebuild this country when I stand at the top of the rats' nest."

She became very still, then. After a long moment, she said, "You still have your dream, even after everything you've seen?"

"The only way to truly prevent another Ishval is to turn this country away from military dictatorship," he said, keeping his voice low. This was a military hospital, after all. "It has to be a democracy, we have to negotiate proper treaties with the surrounding superpowers. When we do, then I'll feel like I've paid for what I've done."

Her head turned slightly toward him. ". . . . Do you realize where you'd be for most of that, though? Once you turn power over to Parliament, you'll be branded a war criminal, tried, and imprisoned or executed."

"I told you that I could wind up dead in a ditch somewhere," he sat flatly. "If I end up an old man in a prison cell because of what I've done, then so be it. Consider it part of my duty, for surviving Ishval." Getting to his feet, he picked up his coat from the back of the visitor's chair. "My train for East City is leaving in an hour; I have to go. Are you going to be all right?"

Riza was watching him with an odd expression somewhere between shock and respect. ". . . I'll be fine, sir." She lifted her right hand to her forehead in salute, the proper forty-five degree angle off slightly due to her still-healing back. "Thank you, Major. You've given me a lot to think about."

"Get well soon," he said, giving a brief wave as he headed for the door.

". . . Roy?" Her voice stopped him just as he stepped out into the hall; he turned back to find her still watching him, this time with just the hint of a smile. "It's still a wonderful dream. Don't get killed."

He returned the smile. "I told you before, don't jinx me."

She sat beside him in the ambulance as it rushed away from the Third Laboratory, one hand holding a wide gauze pad to his side, the other stroking his forehead in a motion she hoped was soothing. Goodness knew she didn't feel very soothed right now, but she had to keep it together. Her lower lip had been clamped firmly between her teeth for the past ten minutes in an effort to stay calm.

"Hey, Hawkeye — crap, you're bleeding too." His eyes were on her face, wide in concern. "What happened; someone punch you in the mouth?"

Blinking back to reality, Riza touched her fingers to her lips; they came away with a thin trickle of blood. She wiped it off on her pantleg; what was a little more blood at this point? ". . . No, sir. I'm sorry, I guess I must have bit my lip a little too hard."

"Worrying again," Roy said with a faint smile, closing his eyes. "You heard the guy who took a look at me. Most of the bleeding was stopped in time, so I'm going to be okay."

Her heart skipped. "Sir, I'd feel much better if you'd keep your eyes open."

He obliged, but the smile disappeared into a frown. "Hawkeye, it's okay. I know you don't like to see me get hurt — tell you the truth, I'm not crazy about it either — but they said I'll be fine." His hand fumbled for a minute before it found hers. "This isn't your fault, I swear."

"Oh really? Who was the one who suggested splitting up?" she snapped. "Who went with Alphonse instead of you?"

Roy shook his head. "You know as well as I do that if Havoc had gone with Alphonse, they'd both be dead right now. You and I were the two most experienced people down there, and each team needed one person like that." He squeezed her hand. "I don't blame any of this on you."

They were silent for a moment, the only sound being that of the vehicle, and its sirens as it tore through the streets. At last, Roy said, "You scared me too, you know."

"How so?"

"You should have seen the look on your face when Al finally let you out from behind the wall." His eyes were steady on her face, watching for her reaction. "I don't think I've ever seen you look quite so . . . panicked."

"I don't think I've ever seen you look quite so wounded," Riza answered evenly, staring at the patch she held to his side. His fingers tightened on hers; when she looked him in the eye, his gaze was angry.

"Riza Hawkeye, don't you dare lie to me," he growled. "Something else went on down there; I heard the shots. So stop trying to protect me from every damned little thing and tell me what the hell happened!"

For a moment, she seriously contemplated keeping her mouth shut about the entire incident . . . until she looked him in the eye again. How had he described Edward's look the first time they met him . . . 'eyes that burned like fire.' Riza felt her shoulders drop out of their normal posture as she gave up the internal struggle. "That Homonculus . . . . She said she'd killed you. She really believed she had, I could see it in her expression. All I could think of was that she had no right to take you away and that I was going to make her pay."

She kept eye contact as she spoke, and watched his anger fade to surprise. "The next thing I knew, every bullet I had was spent, and she was healing up again. I gave up. If she had already killed you, then I'd failed in keeping you safe, and the only thing left was for me to join you."

The engine noise quieted as the ambulance slowed, then stopped; outside, shouting voices and running footsteps approached. Riza looked away, back to the patch held in her left hand; Roy moved his hand from hers, reaching up to turn her face back toward him.

"We'll talk about this later," he said seriously. "I'm not through with you yet."

"I didn't expect you to be."

"But I'll tell you one thing." He pulled her close, lowering his voice. "If, all those years ago, you hadn't shared your father's secret with me, both Havoc and I would be dead right now. You remember that if you feel like giving up again."

A/N: There needs to be a 'Share' button on here, for Facebook, or Twitter, or tumblr, or what have you.