A/N: We did it! We got to the end! Thank you everybody for sticking with me for so long, through all of it. You're all amazing, and I could not have done this without you. You made me want to keep going. So here's to you, here's to twenty-five chapters of our favourite duo, and most of all, here's to the fantastic lady that started it all: Hiromu Arakawa.

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Twenty-five - Serenity

OUTSIDE OLD CENTRAL COURTHOUSE
DECEMBER 16, 1:30 A.M.

Edward was just straightening from checking Armstrong's pulse when the most violent explosion yet rocked the sidewalk beneath him, tossing him to the ground. He was vaguely aware of a cry of surprise — Alphonse, or maybe himself? — before he was shaking his head to clear it, working to sit up on the pavement.

"Aw, shit…."

He glanced over to find Havoc staring at the building, eyes wide with shock, and when he looked, Edward wasn't surprised. Flames had sprouted behind the windows, smoke beginning to roil harder out of the holes alchemised to get them in.

Picking himself up, Ed jumped over the Major's bulk — now beginning to stir slightly in the wake of the blast — and headed for the last hole they had made. "Come on, we can't leave them in there!"

Havoc was on his heels almost instantly, reaching out to grasp him by the shoulder. "And if you go in there in a rush, you might not come back out!" he barked, showing the edge of command Ed had only ever seen him assume when the situation was truly desperate. "Take it easy; no stupid moves. Got it?"

Whirling, wrenching his shoulder from the older man's grasp, Ed glared. "Are you kidding me?! That's your bosses in there, and my friends, so if you think I'm just going to hold back and let them get fried —"

He wasn't ready for Havoc's hand to fist itself in the front of his shirt, pulling him nose-to-nose. "You think I don't know that?" His hand shot out, pointing at the fire. "I'm telling you not to go dashing in there because we're of no use to anybody if we get barbecued because we did something stupid!"

Breda spoke up from the curb, where he was pressing the torn-off sleeve of his jacket to the bullet wound in his arm. "We've got one functional alchemist, and the fire department won't get here in time," he said, indicating Al with his chin. "I say if we can make our own fire hose, we do it."

The younger Elric was sprinting for the nearest fire hydrant almost before the sentence finished, clapping as he went. Skidding to a stop, he smacked one hand to the pavement, the other to the cold metal of the hydrant. A concrete pipe rose from the ground, snaking off toward the nearest hole in the courthouse's side, a handled valve morphing from the side.

The second his transmutation was complete, Al scrambled to his feet, grasped the lever of the valve, and yanked it open.

Ed and Havoc were partway to the opening when the water came gushing out in a horizontal geyser, dousing the room inside just enough for them to slip in past the clouds of smoke and steam. The gasoline fire still sputtered on the far side of the room, but they had just enough time before it mingled with the water to find the two still inside…possibly three if Fernley had survived.

And as soon as he took a few steps deeper into the room, Ed knew that Fernley wouldn't be a problem. He lay at the edge of a hole — likely the result of that first blast — with his head hanging at a crazy angle over the edge and arm-sized chunks of wooden seating embedded in his back. Pale blue eyes stared at nothing from over a slack, half-crazed grin.

Ed fought down the impulse to gag, turning his attention instead to finding the others.

"There." Havoc picked his way across the watery, debris-strewn floor, heading to where a long slab of bench lay against a small wooden dome. The thing was only about three feet high, and six feet long, but it bore the unmistakeable signs of hastily-used alchemy.

Behind them, Al jumped from the end of his makeshift pipe to a spot on the floor. Stopping beside his brother, he waited as Havoc shoved the bench off to the side before he knelt carefully beside the mound.

When the wood flowed back to the floor, Ed couldn't help but stare for a moment before moving forward to help. Mustang was braced low on all fours over his Lieutenant, his eyes open, but only halfway and glassy-looking even at an oblique angle. Blood seeped slowly from a small wound in his shoulder, his clothes covered in any number of marks from soot and dirt.

Hawkeye wasn't much better off. She was entirely unconscious, long strands of dirt-streaked hair falling across her cheek, obviously tackled to the floor in a last-ditch effort for safety. Blood still came from a bullet wound on her leg, though it had slowed to a mere ooze as it worked at stopping itself.

For a moment, when Ed tugged on his shoulder, Mustang didn't move. Then, with careful, almost painfully slow deliberation, he rolled to the side, collapsing onto his back. "Took you long enough," he muttered, with only a fraction of the humour the comment deserved.

"Should've just let you burn, if that's the thanks I get," Ed shot back. The older alchemist was clearly on the verge of passing out; their usual bickering wouldn't hurt anything. "Then again, why should you get to go out in a blaze of glory?"

That drew a wan smile, before his head lolled to the side, watching Havoc and Al examining Hawkeye. "She okay?" He made a half-hearted attempt to sit up, but Ed pushed his shoulders back to the floor. "Tell me she's okay."

"Looks like it, Boss." Havoc looked up with a smirk, his fingers gentle on the side of Hawkeye's neck as he checked her pulse. "You of all people know it takes more than that to keep our girl down for long."

"That blast shelter was good thinking," Al said, venturing a smile of his own. "I guess that circle-less transmutation came in handy again, didn't it."

His own smile a passable imitation of his usual cocky grin, Mustang let his eyes fall closed. "…Told her it was my turn… to play bodyguard…."

CENTRAL MILITARY HOSPITAL
DECEMBER 17, 9:30 A.M.

He had held off calling Winry this long, just to make sure he would have a positive story to tell. Of course, that didn't stop her from being any less worried, for him and Al or the others.

"But you're sure that Miss Riza's going to be okay?" she said. Ed had the distinct impression she had made a mental list of the Lieutenant's injuries he had mentioned, and was trying to figure out just how bad the damage really was.

"She seems okay to me," he answered, shrugging even though she couldn't see it. "I mean, the bullet wound wasn't too serious, and it was shock and the force of the last explosion that knocked her out, not a concussion. She's certainly had worse."

"Okay. Listen — if she's released on time, you should tell her and the Colonel that if they want to come here for Solstice, they're more than welcome. They'd get a break, and if either of their injuries gets worse, Granny can handle it."

Solstice. In all the excitement, Ed had completely forgotten that it was coming up at the end of the week. "I'll pass it along, but I'm not going to promise anything." He toyed briefly with whether tell her about the secret little relationship between Colonel and Lieutenant — because Winry would be over the moon about that — but ultimately decided against it. The fewer people knew, the better. "Sorry, but I've gotta go. Al and I will be heading home tonight or tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. See you when you get here."

He hung up, both hands in his pockets as he moved back down the hall to the single-occupancy hospital room that was currently occupied by far too many people. Mustang was half-slouched in the cushioned chair beside the bed occupied by Hawkeye — in fact, he'd been in that chair all night, if Ed's suspicions were correct — with the other men and Al scattered around the room. Aside from the broken nose, careful movements of his left shoulder, and dark under-eye circles from lack of sleep, the older alchemist seemed perfectly fine.

Of course, being kept off her feet by a bandage around her right leg and a knee that refused to support her fully had in no way impaired Hawkeye.

"You're one hundred percent sure?" Brown eyes watched Havoc at the foot of the bed, where he stood with a handful of photographs and a manila folder.

"Absolutely. See for yourself." He tossed the package onto the bedspread at her side, where both she and Mustang leaned forward to sort through the contents. "He's in the morgue at the district coroner's office. And, as per the Colonel's order, I got Dr. Knox to be the one to confirm he's gone."

Mustang looked up from the last image. "What about the recording he was sending to Central Command?"

"You mean this one?" Grinning, Breda hefted a padded envelope. "Fuery intercepted the messenger out in front of Headquarters, said he'd make sure it got to the right office." He tossed the thing across the room where it smacked into Roy's hands. "Congratulations, Boss: you've got a sex tape. Every serious politician needs one."

Wincing as he tucked the envelope down beside his hip, Mustang shook his head. "Can we not call it that? There's a minor in the room."

"I'm okay," Al said, grinning to himself. "But Brother's turning about three different shades of red…."

"Am not," Ed muttered, not-quite-casually picking up a copy of the Central Times from beside the door. The pages unfolded to conveniently hide the deep blush covering half his face. "I'm just glad they finally got together. Good for them. Hughes would have been on cloud nine."

Mustang shot him a glare. "We're sitting right here. You can talk as though we're in the same room."

"…It's hard to believe that it's finally over…."

Hawkeye's voice was so quiet, Ed almost didn't hear her. When he peeked over the top edge of the newspaper, it was to find her staring at the last photograph of Fernley, dead, laid out on the lawn of the old courthouse after being removed from the blaze. Her expression was as carefully under control as always, but the way her eyes were riveted to the picture left no doubt that the same control didn't fully extend to her emotions.

"What do you mean, Lieutenant?" Fuery's voice was quiet too, trying not to spook her in the silence. "You think he escaped somehow?"

She shook her head. "No. If Dr. Knox says that he's dead, I believe he's dead." Tossing the photograph back with the others, she leaned back against the pillows, her forehead furrowed in thought.

For a long moment, the silence continued, before Mustang moved to stand. "Could I see you all outside for a moment?" Going to the door, he was followed after a second's hesitation by the others. Abandoning the newspaper, Ed held back, waiting for his brother.

Slipping down from his perch on the wide windowsill, Al crossed to the bed. "Lieutenant?" Smiling almost sheepishly, he leaned down, giving her a careful, gentle hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

The air of distraction that had been hovering around her since they had arrived that morning seemed to dissipate, just enough for a small, genuine smile. "Thank you. I'm glad you're both all right as well." Humour sparked in her eyes just for a second. "Winry and May would have a bone to pick with me if I had let something happen to either of you."

Ed grinned. "I'll say." Reaching out, he grasped her hand briefly. "That's from me…." Bending, he delivered an equally brief — though no less heartfelt than his brother — hug. "And that's from Winry. She also says that, if you want, you and the Colonel are invited to Solstice in Resembool."

"I'll pass the offer along, and we'll be in touch," she promised. "If not for Solstice, then maybe New Year's." She fixed both boys with a serious look. "Thank you both; you didn't have to involve yourselves in this, and I appreciate that you were so willing to help."

Al shrugged, smiling not-quite-shyly. "After all the help you and the Colonel gave us when we were trying to get our bodies back, how could we not?"

That drew a quiet laugh, Hawkeye shaking her head in near-resignation. "Alchemists and their equivalent exchange…." Lifting one hand, she waved them both toward the door. "Go on; the Colonel's waiting. And if I don't see you again before you leave, have a safe trip home."

The group gathered in an empty room across the hall, Roy standing front and centre. When the Elrics entered, he closed the door behind them, before turning to face the others. Taking a deep breath, he slipped both hands into his pockets.

"I'll get right to the point," he said seriously, gaze going from man to man. "The other night, you all became aware of a very volatile secret, one that Hawkeye and I have been keeping from you for over a year. I'm sure you can understand why we didn't tell anyone, and I'm asking you all to do the same. And if you have even a shred of respect for one, our privacy or two, our continued careers, you'll do as I'm asking."

Havoc cleared his throat quietly. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that you can count on us, Chief." Murmurs of agreement followed this statement. "I mean, don't get me wrong, we're happy for you guys, but we know what it means if you get caught." He grinned broadly. "Besides — aside from your ambitions and your involvement on the Promised Day, what's one more secret?"

At last cracking a smile, Roy nodded. "All right. Of course, there's a couple people I need you to leave out of the loop on this. Fullmetal, I'm sure Winry would be happy to hear the news, but I have to ask that you don't tell her. And please: no one tell Armstrong." He grimaced as two or three snorts of laughter greeted the statement. "Neither Hawkeye nor myself would survive the hugging."

Pausing long enough to sink onto the empty hospital bed, Roy broke into a full smile. "But aside from all that: thank you. You did a hell of a job." He waved a hand. "Go on; go get some rest. Relax." His attention turned to the Elrics. "They won't be heading back to East City until tomorrow, but if you two wanted to head out tonight, you should."

"Trying to get rid of us already, huh?" Ed grinned, his brother stepping forward to exchange a brief handshake with Roy. "Maybe we will, just so I don't have to listen to you blathering on and on."

The bickering was immediately set aside as he stepped forward, right hand held out to the older man. "Take care of yourself, Bastard; and don't worry the Lieutenant. I don't wanna have to come jumping back in to save you any time soon."

Mouth set in a smirk, Roy grasped the proffered hand. "Who says I'd ask you? Good luck with your research, Ed. Same goes for you, Alphonse."

The boys departed just as Roy got to his feet. "I wasn't kidding," he said seriously, glancing around at the others. "I need to talk to Hawkeye about a preliminary debriefing, and there's no reason for you to hang around. You've got the day; go use it."

Breda stopped beside the door. "If we're heading back to East City before you and Hawkeye, should I get in touch with Grumman and update him?"

"Good idea." Getting to his feet, Roy cautiously rolled his shoulders, the gauze pad against his skin rasping quietly along the fabric of his shirt. "You called Rebecca, right? Told her she can stand down and send Danny's girlfriend home?"

"First thing this morning, from the bar." The redheaded man tilted his chin toward the door. "And Falman called his contact up north hiding Danny and Brymer. They'll send them back on the next train. Things can finally get back to normal."

Roy smiled ruefully. "As normal as things ever get for us, anyway…."

"Marian? It's Riza."

"Oh! Riza, dear, what a surprise!" The woman was clearly smiling on the other end of the line; that had to be a good sign. "How are you? I haven't seen you in days."

"I know; I'm sorry. I've been in Central." A brief pang of guilt flashed through Riza's chest. She had promised Marian support if she needed it, and then gone haring off without so much as a warning. Necessary, certainly, but not a very nice thing for a friend to do.

"Central, really. Did you have to go out there for work?"

"No, this was personal…." Taking a deep breath, she added, "We got him, Marian. We got the man who hurt Eric."

Silence hung heavy on the line for long seconds, and Riza began to rethink the wisdom of sharing this information, opening wounds that had barely begun to heal. But Marian needed the closure….

"…Oh…." Her voice was shaky, the unmistakeable tremor of someone holding back tears. "Oh my…. The man who…."

The guilt returned. "I'm sorry, I know it's painful for you…." Swallowing hard against her own emotion, she pressed on. "I just… I thought you should know. That you would want —"

"Who was it?"

There was no mistaking the firm resolve in Marian's tone. "…It was the man on trial in East City years ago, the one Eric sat on the jury for, that I was a witness against. Hargrave Fernley."

"And where is he now? Prison?"

"Central Morgue." Taking another deep breath, she continued, "I've got the autopsy report in front of me. He's gone for sure, Marian."

"And the bastard won't hurt anyone else ever again." Riza blinked in surprise at the fire in the older woman's tone. "I hope you gave him hell, dear. It's what he deserved."

"…I did my best." She shifted uneasily. "I hate to cut this short, but I'd rather not say too much more on an unsecured line. I'll be back in East City in a week or two; I'll come see you and give you the full story then. All right?"

"Make sure you do, dear. I'll look forward to seeing you." The friendly tone was back, seeming distinctly out of place after her miniature tirade. "And bring Hayate with you! I miss that little fellow terribly."

Hanging up after saying her goodbyes, Riza settled back and picked up the photos Havoc had left behind. Fernley had been right, when he said he reminded her of her father. The dirty blond hair, the pale blue eyes that stared in that almost unblinking way that signalled insanity….

One photo, of his head and shoulders on the autopsy table, showed his eyes as closed. Tucking the others behind it, she focussed on that one.

The bastard won't hurt anyone else ever again.

She was still sitting up in the bed, the sheet folded down beneath her feet and the pillow propped behind her as she went slowly, methodically, through the autopsy report included with the pictures. Roy watched briefly from the open doorway, before stepping inside and closing it behind himself.

"You keep staring at those pictures, and I'm going to start wondering if you're really okay or not," he said, crossing to stand by the window, looking out at the grounds below.

"Like I said earlier, it's hard to believe it's really over," Riza murmured, turning to the second page of the report. "I was on the run for long enough, was stressed over it for long enough, that for it to just suddenly… end…."

"I know." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "It was the same after the Promised Day. There was a purpose, and now that purpose is gone. But you still have another one, and so do I."

Looking up, Riza gave a half-smile. "So we go back to the usual arrangement? I watch your back, instead of the other way around?"

"No way; I'm still watching out for you." He glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. "We've still got a much bigger job to do, you and I." He turned to lean back against the wall, the smile fading as his eyes dropped to the floor. "Besides: the top would be a lot lonelier without you there."

"Roy?" When he looked up, Riza gestured him to a seat on the bed; she waited until he was settled before speaking again. "I know I've already said it, but thank you, for stopping me from killing Fernley out of revenge."

"You don't have to —"

"Hear me out." Brown eyes serious, she folded her hands together in her lap. "I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but I wanted him dead and I wanted it to be from my bullet. All this time, we've tried to hold to the principle of justice, of punishment equal to the crime, and I came very close to letting you down. But I have enough guilt over other things, like Ishval, that I didn't need vengeance added to it. I'm glad you stopped me, made me see what an idiot I was being."

When she looked up at him, it was with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry."

Reaching out, his wrapped his fingers around hers, squeezing gently. "Equivalent exchange," he murmured, a half-amused smile tugging at his mouth. "I seem to remember you doing the same for me, once upon a time. But I don't think you have anything to worry about." His hand left hers. "You got past it, and now you're just fi—"

His hand touched against her knee in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, eliciting a wordless yell of pain instead. Roy snatched his hand away in the same instant that Riza doubled over in the bed, mouth still open in shock.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'm sorry!" One hand covering his mouth in horror at what he'd done, his eyes wide, he watched her slowly sit up again. "I forgot about the bullet wound, I am so sorry! Are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Riza nodded. She looked up, mouth opening to say something…. A moment's pause, and she laughed, shaking her head. "I'm fine. You just caught me off-guard." Her smile widened. "You should see the look on your face."

"It sounded like I really hurt you; forgive me for worrying," he muttered darkly, his hand dropping to his side. His glare only lasted a moment before his expression softened. "But it's good to see you smile again."

"I could say the same for you."

He studied her for a moment longer before getting up and pacing toward the door. "I told the others that you still had to be debriefed. I'm starting to think it can wait, though; you're obviously no worse for wear."

Riza's eyes followed him watchfully. "In that case, you should go get some rest. Goodness knows you deserve it."

"My thoughts exactly." His fingers turned the lock on the closed door, before he glanced over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk. "Though you and I both know it's so much easier for me to relax when you're around."

She shifted to the side to give him a bit of extra room as he settled onto the bed again, stretching out beside her. Cautious fingers explored the bandaging around her right leg with a light touch, his head resting on her shoulder. "I think we must be pretty lucky," he said quietly. "To finish the situation with Fernley relatively unscathed in comparison to his other victims."

"The others didn't have you to back them up when he came for them." Riza threaded her fingers through his hair, watching his hand close softly over the bandage. The wound beneath didn't even twinge in response. "Not for backup, not for moral or emotional support…. Or to drug them and put them in a safehouse against their will…."

"I said I was sorry for that," Roy growled, shifting to sit taller.

"I know." Turning, she leaned against his chest, one arm hugging him loosely. "But it all worked out for the best in the end."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I suppose. And I also suppose I'm lucky to have someone who's so understanding when I do stupid shit like that."

Riza laughed quietly. "Someone had to put up with you." Tilting her head back to look up with him, she brushed her nose against his. "Not to mention make sure you do your work, stay out of trouble, don't accidentally set yourself on fire, don't get yourself shot —"

Breaking into a laugh of his own, Roy hugged her closer, his face covered by the hair falling over her shoulder. "You've made your point. I've got a lot to thank you for, and a lot to feel lucky about."

Pulling back just far enough that he could look her in the eye, he hesitated, sudden nervousness sending tingles down through his chest and arms. "And being someone that doesn't always know how to express himself properly…. This is kind of difficult for me to say, but…." His smile came out lopsided and sheepish. "All that looking out for me… it's one of dozens of reasons why I love you."

He had the pleasure of seeing a rare, full smile spread across her mouth just before Riza leaned close, her nose nuzzling gently against his. "That's good. Because I'm fairly certain that I love you, too. I doubt I would have agreed to follow you if I didn't."

His arms wrapped snugly around her, careful not to jostle her, her leg, or any of the number of bruises she had incurred over the past week. Riza snuggled close against him, breathing out a long, contented sigh. The quiet hospital room, the silence, the stillness of it all… it only helped to drive home the last relieving fact.

It was finally over. She was finally safe. Her fingers curled together with his, the heartbeat resonating from her chest to keep time with his own and the word repeating itself over and over in his mind. Safe. Safe. Safe. And then, as she tilted her head back to look up at him, that familiar, fond smile playing around her lips, the word changed.

Alive.

THE END