Breda jumped off his stool when he saw how the General almost had to carry Havoc to his car. A hand on his shoulder held him back.
"Leave them." Hawkeye's voice sounded soft but firm.
He turned back to her. "It's my fault he…"
"Leave them be. They will be fine." Riza's voice seemed far off. She was staring in the distance, through the glass pane of the bar's door, as if she wished to follow the departing figure of the Brigadier General all the way to his car with her regard.
With a sigh Heymans Breda slumped back on his stool. "Do you want another drink, or shall we go home too?"
"Let's stay for a little longer." Hawkeye was fumbling with the napkin which one of the girls -Daisy or Jennifer, he couldn't quite remember their names- had put underneath the little bowl of nuts that had accompanied their earlier order of beers. It was a gesture that told him how stressed she was.
He gestured for the girl - Daisy, he was sure it was Daisy – to bring them two more beers and put his hand on Hawkeye's lower arm. "What is amiss? Is it about tomorrow?" She hid it well, but he liked to think that he knew her better than anyone else. Except for the boss of course, but that was an entirely different matter. Yet still, tonight she did not follow Mustang, despite her obvious wish to do so. There definitely was something going on.
She hesitated and let go of the now wrinkled napkin as the two beers arrived. When Daisy had gone to her next customer, she quietly answered his question. "No, not tomorrow. Or perhaps it is. Knowing that we are heading back to that place doesn't help for sure."
"Then what is the matter?" He knew better than to press things, but he couldn't leave her like this. Hawkeye was the strong one, the one they all relied on. Upset was just an emotion he never associated with her. Not unless he was involved. Breda almost cursed, but saw that she was opening her mouth to say something and bit his lip instead.
"You've seen it too, haven't you?" She took a sip of her beer and pensively stared at the wet rings that the glass left behind on the brown wooden counter. "I'm worried about the General. Some days I think I am imagining things, but then I see him stare through the window for hours at end, without signing a single report."
Breda snorted, "Hawkeye, he has been doing that for years. It is why you agreed to be his adjutant, remember? If Mustang had been left to his own devices, he would have been fired for laziness years ago."
She shook her head. "That's not true, and you know it. Sure he likes to pretend he is a lazy good-for-nothing womanizer, but you know as well as I do that it is part of the façade he puts up when other people are around. I'm not saying that he enjoys the paperwork, but he damn well knows why he has to do it and in all these years, I've never seen him behave like this."
He was surprised at her language. She usually was so well in control of herself, but now things seemed to slip. Breda hesitated for a moment. Perhaps the General wasn't the only one acting differently since the Promised day. For a while Havoc and he had hoped that the events would bring the Lieutenant and the General closer together, but after the emotions had settled down, they had quickly gone back to their usual distant, professional behaviour. Perhaps now even more so than ever. Still there were moments like these, when Hawkeye couldn't hide her concerns, when she admitted that she cared for the General more than for anything else in the world, even to her friends. Somehow while things had been quite the opposite once, it was Mustang who now kept treating her as a comrade in arms, a relied friend, but nothing more. He sighed, why would those two make things so damn complicated? "Well, if you don't know what is going on in his mind, then surely I don't either." The words came out with a streak of irritation that surprised himself.
She straightened her back and put her hands in her lap. "You are right. I should ask him. Probably best that I go after him."
"I don't think that's a wise idea." Breda again put his hand on her arm. She tensed for a moment, but then deflated again. When she turned her face towards him, he was surprised to see that she was on the brink of tears. He patted her arm. "You can ask him tomorrow, when you're both sober and well rested. The journey to Ishval will take a while and you will have all the time in the world to talk to him. I'm sure he's fine, Riza. Things haven't been this quiet in years."
"Perhaps you are right, perhaps I'm seeing ghosts. Truth is that I'm not used to 'quiet'"
A small smile crossed her face, and he thought that she was right, none of them were used to this. They were all still trying to find their place in a world where peace was a reality, rather than a far-fetched dream.
Breda decided that she shouldn't walk home on her own, not on a night like this. He called the girl over to put the check on Mustang's tab, it was only fair that the highest in rank paid, and handed Riza her overcoat. Together they started to make their way along the empty streets of Central City. Inevitably, their path led by the house where Mustang lived and he more felt than saw her hesitation when they walked by.
"His car isn't here, he must have stayed with Havoc." Breda spoke the words. She was doubtlessly thinking the same thing and he'd rather have it out in the open.
"No, I think he went somewhere else." Again that sad smile. For a moment he wanted to ask where the General went to, but then realisation hit him. There really was only one spot where he could be on a night like this, before he would leave town on a mission that would take him away for at least a month.
