All right, this came to me late at night as I was trying to fall asleep – written listening to a repeating cycle of nothing but "Fall for You" by Secondhand Serenade and "Your Guardian Angel" by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

No beta on this, and AVLDPC is being worked on, I promise!

They heard the clock toll. Nine hours until midnight. Nine hours until death.

He was guilty. If only he could die, not drag her along as he always seemed to do.

He was leading her to her death.

She was merely following him like she always had before. The circumstances were different now, but she was still following him and nothing had changed about that.

The guard of her cell opened it to let in two young men, one with dark, messy hair and broken glasses. The other was confined to a wheelchair, but he smoked his cigarette proudly all the same. She spared him a glance of exasperation – he had sworn he was going to quit.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," began the man with broken glasses before she raised a palm and stopped him.

"I don't think I can rightfully be called a Lieutenant anymore, Master Sergeant. Riza is fine."

Kain Fuery faltered and sighed heavily, his brow knitting as his frown deepened. "Do you have to?"

Havoc grabbed Kain's arm and shot him a warning look. Kain met it with a scowl and shook off Havoc's grip. "I know what you think, Havoc, but I'm not going to sit back and watch my friends die!"

"You have no control over this, Master Sergeant," Riza murmured, interrupting Havoc's retort. "I know you didn't want it to happen, but this is the way our fate takes us."

"Don't you see?" Fuery protested, his voice quiet but more demanding than Riza or Havoc had ever heard it. "He doesn't want you to die! He doesn't care what happens to him, but he wants you to live!"

"He's being foolish," she whispered. "He knows what would happen if only he died tonight."

Plip, plip, plip

Eventually Jean broke the silence, flicking his cigarette butt across the tiny cell before he saluted. "It was an honor to know you, Lieutenant Hawkeye. Be safe."

She saluted back, but it was halfhearted and distracted. What her focus was Fuery did not know.

"Goodbye, Lieutenant Hawkeye," he said mournfully, not raising his hand in a salute, but extending it for a handshake.

"Take care of Black Hayate, Kain."

He was surprised to note her grip was still firm and warm, just like he knew it to be. The gate eased open behind them. When it shut again, she was alone, but she could hear them as they argued down the hall.

"We can save her, Havoc! You know we can, why aren't we?"

He was still so young, so naïve. What did he think she would do if forced to know Roy Mustang was dead?

"Damn, Fuery. You really didn't see anything in those years? She goes where he does. We'd only be hurting her if we got a stay of execution."

"But at least she'd be alive!"

He still saw things in black and white, not unlike the way she used to. Life and death. If a person was not alive, they were dead, and if their heart was beating, they must be alive.

"I guarantee we'd find her dead the next morning, Fuery."

At least someone was thinking sensibly.

Their voices faded and all she could hear was the creak of the pipes.

~*ooo*~

"But what do we do now, Havoc?" Fuery finally asked, as they stepped out onto the street.

Jean lit another cigarette and took a long drag. "Well, I know what I'm going to do, but you're a special case."

"What?"

"Quit. Go home and marry some girl, have a few kids, live a good life. When the kids are old enough, tell them the truth about Mustang and Hawkeye, and forget all of this happened. That's your job now."

"I can't just do that!"

"You need to. After the public finds out about their deaths, there could be a civil war. If you had to fight in that, they'd look down from wherever they'll be and their hearts would break. The rest of us are beyond help, but you can still live your life."

They did not speak again for a long time.

~*ooo*~

The guards of the compound Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were imprisoned in had learned about those sentenced to death. There were those who cackled madly and screamed up at the heavens, those that pleaded and begged to be set free, and those who did nothing at all, resigning themselves to their fate.

"Visitor for you, Mustang," the guard grumbled.

He nodded.

"Colonel Bastard."

Roy knew that voice all too well. "Fullmetal. I'm surprised you would bother visiting me."

"Decided I'd get in some last insults before you can't beat them back anymore," Ed declared with false bravado, hiding the waver in his voice.

"I'm flattered."

Plip, plip, plip.

"You'd think they could afford some better plumbing," Ed growled, swiping at the offensive drops.

Roy chuckled, his eyes light for only a second. "I don't think it matters to most of the prisoners here."

Ed folded his arms across his chest and scowled as he always did when in Roy's presence.

Plip, plip, plip.

"You probably don't want to hear this," Ed finally muttered. "but I might as well tell you."

He met the former colonel's eyes, the lump in his throat growing larger with every moment. "You know how Al and I didn't really like our old man, right?"

"Hohenheim?"

"Yea."

"I think Alphonse liked him more than you did."

"Well, he was a bastard all the same!" Ed argued, heat rising to his face. If he had still been in his office, behind his sturdy desk, Roy would have made a joke of it.

No, this was no time for jokes. Even then had been no time for jokes, but he could never seem to stop them.

Ed faltered, losing his resolve. "I just wanted to say that…" Damn, his voice was going to break. "You're more of a father to us than he ever was."

He watched Roy stand and the corners of his mouth tug into a small smile. "I guess then you have two shitty fathers, Ed."

A tear leaked from Ed's eye before he wiped it away angrily. "You weren't so bad most of the time."

All he remembered was anger. Ed had always been angry at him, angry at the military, angry at the philosopher's stone – when had Roy ever helped him as a father was supposed to help a son? When had he encouraged Ed or Al, telling them to get up again and try even harder?

How could he be like a father to them when all he did was belittle them?

"Thank you," he whispered, his own voice unable to rise. Somehow, it was still a relief to hear Ed say that all he did was not for nothing.

The clock tolled yet again. Six hours until midnight. Six hours until death.

~*ooo*~

Roy wished she hadn't saved him.

If she hadn't saved him, he would already be dead and she wouldn't have to die with him.

He knew he was lying to himself. If she hadn't saved him, she would have long since killed herself. But it was a dream. Maybe if she hadn't saved him, she could have fallen in love and married, finally had the family she deserved.

Somehow, even now, it made his gut wrench. The mere thought of her leaving him was too much for his greedy mind to think about.

Even into hell, if that is your wish.

She was much too loyal for her own good. If only it hadn't had to end like this.

He barely heard the great clocktower this time. Four hours until midnight. Four hours until death.

And yet, it still did not rain.

He wished it would, even for a few seconds. He wished he was not as heartless as he felt.

~*ooo*~

She had long since realized she was not going to cry.

She had failed in her duty. He was going to die.

(Riza did not think of her own death. Death was merely life without him.)

Dong, dong, dong

The clock tolled ten times. Two hours until midnight. Two hours until the end.

"Miss Hawkeye?" the guard asked nervously.

Riza knew that tone. It was time to begin. No turning back now, not that there ever was a time to turn back, and not that she would change a second of it.

~*ooo*~

"Please, damnit!" Ed yelled. "They have to live, you shithead!"

"The Fuhrer has ordered their execution, Major Elric. They have to die."

This man was really getting on his nerves now. Two of the country's best soldiers, and he didn't even blink for their deaths.

"You have no idea what they've done for this country! More than you ever will, and the Fuhrer is just going to kill them for disobeying one damned order?"

"He has also heard about a coup, Major. Fuhrer Bradley cannot risk having such dangerous people running around."

"They saved the lives of an Ishvalan infant, asshole, and then they saved the lives of each other! They aren't dangerous unless you are their enemy!"

"Fullmetal pipsqueak, they are our enemy."

Ed knew that voice as well as he knew the grotesque grin. "Envy," he growled.

He attacked without another word.

~*ooo*~

"Would it be too much to ask for her face to be the last one I see?" Roy asked the guard.

"I'll…" the burly man faltered as he saw Roy's face. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

"I'm not promising anything, mind you."

"I know."

~*ooo*~

His last wish was granted, but not in the way he imagined it to be.

"Line up the prisoners!"

It hurt him to see her bound like she was. Even after following him for so long, she was still a free spirit. It was as if a great bird had been stuffed into a cage so small that she could not spread her wings.

There were others dying tonight as well – thugs, murderers, traitors, those that Roy would have looked down upon before he stood next to them and been forced to accept he was no better.

Her hands brushed against his and he looked to his left. Riza smiled as if to encourage him.

"Riza…" he began, not sure of what to say to her.

"Don't blame yourself, Roy," she said, her chestnut eyes meeting his onyx ones. They seemed washed out in the harsh spotlight that was focused on the souls soon to be gone, but they were still her eyes and somehow they were calm in the raging storm they faced.

Roy wondered what his eyes looked like – he had never been good at hiding his emotion, and surely the whirlwind of emotion he felt now was showing in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he breathed, low enough so only she could hear. "It is my fault, and I am blaming myself. "

"Then stop," she demanded, loud enough for the entire row to hear. Heads turned, but they did not care.

"I can't! It's my fault you're dying, and if you weren't so damn stubborn you could be safe right now! Think of yourself for once!"

"I chose my own path, Roy Mustang. You did not force me down it, and I don't care about living if it doesn't have you!"

"OI! You two, eleven and twelve, shut your traps and stand in line!" bellowed the man in charge. They both knew of him, a large, beefy man that began life as a convict and fought tooth and nail to gain nothing but the control of the graveyard shift.

Riza turned back to face the wall, the chains on her wrist jangling and rubbing the skin raw.

Somehow he could not bring himself to see that blank, cracked wall again. Swinging his arms up and over her head, they came to rest on her neck. The chain drew her closer to him, and their lips crashed together forcefully.

No one stopped them.

Sixteen riflemen, one for each convict, loaded their weapons and set their target in the sights.

"STOP!"

Sixteen rifles dropped and thirty-three heads turned to the entrance.

"We have a stay of execution for Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye!" Ed gasped, waving a battered paper in the air. His arm was missing and his entire body was red with blood, but Roy had never seen him look more triumphant.

"Fire, men," said the warden gravely, casting his eyes away from the blonde teenager.

"What the hell do you mean? Don't fire, you idiots, two of those people deserve to walk free!"

"They warned me this could happen. Fire."

Roy braced himself for the blackness, glancing at Riza one last time.

"It's not death, Roy. Don't think of it like that," she whispered, drawing him closer until their noses touched. "It's just the next step in our journey, and I'll follow you no matter where it takes us."

"BASTARDS, LET THEM GO!"

Roy felt a blindfold be slipped over his eyes.

Still no gunshot.

"Thank you," he breathed into her ear.

"IT'S OFFICIAL, I SWEAR IT IS! LET THEM GO!"

The silence that followed seemed never to end, only broken by the toll of the dreaded clock.

Twelve.

"Release them. The Fullmetal Alchemist speaks the truth."

There were footsteps again, hurried ones this time, and several soldiers throwing down their guns.

And still, nothing happened. He clutched her tighter, still terrified to let her go for only one second.

A new voice, cold and familiar, piereced through the confusion.

"Shoot them."

"But Major Kimblee, we've been ordered not to now, Major Elric has the stay of excecution!" came the desperate voice of a rifleman, one of the few that had not abandoned his post.

"If you do not shoot, Lieutenant, I will kill them anyway, and trust me when I say their deaths will be long and painful."

He tensed and buried his nose in her hair. Somehow it still smelled like her, even through the week of imprisonment and filth.

"Fire."

He could hear it being loaded, slowly and painfully. Terror filled him.

There was a gunshot, and she went limp in his arms.

"LIEUTENANT!" he screamed, raising his hands to her head and feeling them covered in her blood. His hands dropped again, and he finally began to cry. "RIZA!"

His body fell backwards, her head on his chest and their arms and chains still entwined.

Ed's cry echoed through the prison as he ran towards the pair. Desperation filled his entire body – they couldn't be dead, he had fought Envy and finally gotten the stay of execution and gotten there in time, they couldn't die now.

He fell to his knees.

They were gone.

Another gunshot echoed through the air, and the warden lowered his smoking pistol. "Bastard."

Kimblee died with shock still etched on his face.

~*ooo*~

The fourteen other convicts that night did not die.

The two that did could not be – some said would not be – separated by anyone that tried, and were eventually laid to rest under an ash tree overlooking Central City.

On their grave, under the stone that marked their names, one could always find cyclamen and zinnia, as if Edward Elric wished to tell them one last thing.

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