Disclaimer: I don't Ed. Or Full Metal Alchemist. Or Roy. sigh...
Chapter 2 to "This Isn't the Man" is Up!
R&R! Love all of ya.
Roy glanced at the gun in his hand, and blinked at it. Interesting. Riza's blood was on it, from such a close rang. He shrugged, and tucked it back into her coat, blood smearing over her blue uniform carelessly.
Leaning over her, he grinned, and saluted her. "To Lieutenant Hawkeye." Laughing to himself, he glanced back, laughing even harder. Riza was barely conscious.
"Colonel…" she whispered, feeling betrayed, and simply slipped away into nothingness.
What she didn't see was when he transformed. The skin on his body rippled, and his appearance changed to a muscular, young man with green hair, and the symbol of homunculus on his leg. Envy. "My, won't Dante-sama be pleased with me. And King Bradley too…" he grinned widely.
Roy Mustang whistled cheerfully. He grinned and patted the small box in his coat pocket. It was a pretty silver color, with shining gold stars on the wrapper, and a green and red bow on top. A single tag was attached, reading, "To Riza, Love Roy."
Time to show her he was worth it.
Roy headed back to his office, and opened the door. He frowned. Riza had already left. Sighing, he stepped out into the hall again, and turning around, he collided with Havoc, who was carrying a stack of papers.
"Havoc, have you seen Riza?"
Havoc frowned. "What're you talking about, Colonel? She left with you."
Roy could feel his face muscles react to his thoughts; confusion and bewilderment. "What the hell is going on? I didn't leave with her. I left before her."
Havoc shrugged, chewing the toothpick in his mouth. "I swear, Colonel, she left with you. I overheard you guys; a walk to the park, or something like that. At least, I think it was you. I mean, it could have been a double or something, but that would be stupid-"
Roy paled. It had hit him. If he was right- "Oh, shit." Roy shoved Havoc out of the way, and his subordinate dropped the stack of papers. He could hear Havoc cursing loudly, and he even had the feeling that Havoc was flipping him off, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now. Just getting to Riza-
Roy ran, his coat flying and flapping around him. He skidded on ice so many times, and fell so many times, that his hands were scraped and bleeding. He sprinted through the deserted streets, and turning a corner he spotted the park-
And Riza.
Roy slowed down. Oh God, Riza, oh God…She was sprawled across the ground, her blonde hair spread haphazardly, and crimson blood blossoming across the pure, white snow. Her lips were blue with cold, and her eyes were closed. Closed. Roy felt bile come up, and he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.
This can't be happening. This can't be happening…Roy sped up again, running so fast, like he was going to lose her any second. He slipped and fell, the ice scraping the skin off his cheek. He winced, but scrambled back up to his feet and ran toward Riza. Falling to his knees, he cradled her head gently, and felt desperately for a pulse; he panted. She was still alive, but barely. He opened her coat, and searched for her wound frantically. She moaned, and her hand lifted touching her stomach. He moved her hand gently, and he could feel tears well in his eyes, something that hadn't happened since Hughes had died. There was a hole in her. A hole in Riza.
Her breathing was shallow, and inconsistent, ragged and pained. Damnit, don't die, Riza, don't die… Riza opened her eyes, pain shooting through her stomach, like fire. Fire. Colonel. Riza gasped. Roy was looming above her, tears streaming down his pale face. He looked frightened. Like a small boy.
"You're alive, Riza, you're alive-" he reached for her hand, smiling, but Riza stared at him with blank eyes. Her hand moved away from his. Like he was something repulsive.
Roy's smile faltered. "Lieutenant?"
Riza turned her head away from him. How could he? How could he…Roy stood up. His heart was breaking, and he couldn't let her see. He was her superior. He had to act like it. He screwed his eyes shut. I don't need love. I don't need love. He turned his back to her. He couldn't let her see. "Lieutenant Hawkeye; I'll be back. I need to call the infirmary. Please, Lieutenant. Refrain from dying."
Riza blinked. She had almost smiled. She turned her head further away. I can't let him see my heart breaking.
CHAPTER 2
Riza sat up in the infirmary bed, rudely awakened by a wet tongue slapping her face. Groggy with sleep, she mumbled, "Wha-? Black Hayate?" She held up her hands, shielding her face. Blinking away the sleep, she stared up at the ceiling. White, spotless, and so bright it hurt her eyes. This was not her ceiling. Sitting up, she glanced down at her clothes. The infirmary? When did I get here?
Someone breathed out quietly. Jumping, and startled, her eyes searched the room, and her hand automatically reached for the gun on her tableside. Black Hayate panted, his tail wagging and thumping on the bed cover. Riza spotted a figure slumped in a corner, leaning against the wall, his legs crossed and his black hair scruffy and messy; Colonel.
Riza turned stiff, and averted her eyes to a different wall. Traitor. But something told her it wasn't him. He wouldn't do something like that. Oh yes he would. No. He wouldn't.
Her heart told her it couldn't possibly be him. She loved him. But her mind told her he had done it. She'd saw him herself. He'd shot her. And he'd kissed her. Right before she felt the barrel press against her stomach, she'd been happier than she had ever been in her whole life. Yet, he had come running back. The second time she'd seen him crying. His hands had been shaking, and he looked frightened, oh so frightened, with such pretty tears running down his pale face…
She felt a single tear stream down her face, and she rubbed it away quickly. How am I supposed to know if he really did it or not? She buried her face in her hands, and felt more tears leaking through her fingers. Black Hayate whined loudly, and licked her face, barking.
Riza tried to quiet him, but it was too late; Roy yawned, rumpling his black hair, and blinking sleepily. They stared at each other for a while, when Roy grinned. It was a sad smile. "Are you feeling better, Lieutenant?"
Riza saluted him as best as she could, though half-heartedly. Her eyes were still red from crying, and she knew Roy could tell. "Yes, sir."
She rubbed the top of Black Hayate's head, busying her hands and eyes so she didn't have to look at Roy. It hurt too much.
Roy shoved his hands into his pockets, and looked down at his feet. His hand moved inside his pocket, and he blinked in surprise; he'd forgotten all about her Christmas present. He quietly took it out, and set it gently on her tableside. "Merry Christmas, Lieutenant." He tore his eyes away from her beautiful, startled face, and walked toward the door, his heart crumbling with every step. He could remember how blank her stare had been, the red blood blossoming like a flower over the pure white snow, how her hand moved away from his. Roy curled his hand into a fist, the nails biting hard into his skin; the bastard Envy would pay. He would pay for making a hole in Riza. For making a hole in her heart. Where he had been.
Inside the infirmary, Riza bounced the present in her hand. It was slightly heavy, and something inside jingled quietly. Tearing the paper off carefully, she pulled the lid off and she could feel her eyebrows shoot up, surprised. It was a beautiful, silver locket in the shape of a heart. Opening it, she saw a picture of Roy with his arm thrown around her, smiling and laughing at the same time. And she was there, stiff and formal as ever, arms crossed across her chest, her hair up neatly with a clip, and the constant frown written over her lips. Christmas last year.
Riza clutched it to her heart, her golden hair falling around her, and shining with the sunlight streaming in through the window. The image of the grinning Roy with his arm around her flashed in her mind. How could I ever doubt you? It wasn't you… It wasn't… Riza rang the bell by her bedside, and a nurse came in, complete with the white uniform and cap.
"I would like to see Colonel Roy Mustang." Riza eyed the nurse.
She shook her head. "That's not possible, ma'am. You won't be able to see him from now on."
Riza frowned. "Excuse me?"
The nurse nodded toward the window. "He was decommissioned earlier today. He is not allowed in the building, until he's cleared."
This can't be happening.
Roy sat on a step that led to the main military building, his hands buried in his face miserably. They'd decommissioned him, until further notice. Until they found out who really had shot Riza. Roy was grateful to Havoc, and the rest of his subordinates; they had protested loudly. But it hadn't worked. He had even had to give up his uniform, until they cleared him.
And he was not allowed back into the military building until then, much less the military.
His dreams of becoming Fuhrer were crushed. All he had ever worked for was gone. The clean record he had fought so hard for was gone. And he couldn't see Riza.
Roy clenched his teeth. Everything around him was crumbling. He could not see Riza. Roy sighed and stood up. He saluted the Military building, one hand in his pocket, and the other at his forehead. "Goodbye." He walked away, head down, crunching through the bitter snow with the icy cold biting him, and silent tears freezing on his face.
Riza found herself buried in her arms again. What have I done? Roy… Riza felt her heart clench with pain, and the silver locket bounced gently around her neck. She'd made him a criminal for a crime he had not done. She'd broken his heart, and it was her fault. But worst of all, she'd destroyed them. She'd destroyed his dreams.
CHAPTER 3
Riza stared out the ice-frosted window, watching flakes of snow whirl by gently. She curled and uncurled her pale fingers; her hand felt empty without her gun. The weapon reminded her that she herself should remain like it; emotionless, cold, and calculating. But it was hard, to stay and think like a weapon day after day. Sometimes she was afraid; afraid she'd stay like that, without emotion, for the all of her life.
Riza forced her mind to wander elsewhere, to the infirmary, and her wound. She was already sitting up, even after being shot in the stomach earlier that day. Even as she thought about it, a pang of agony shot through her abdominal area, disappearing as abruptly as it had come. She hurt all over; aching with the cold hours she had spent lying in the blood-dyed snow, with her head throbbing and her heart breaking into tiny shards that cut her until she cried out.
Riza shuddered, and drew the white blanket around her. She had always hated hospitals. They smelled faintly of the sickening-sweet smell of blood, with pungent and chalky traces of medicine hovering in the air. It unnerved her, to stay in a white room, with an unfamiliar ceiling, and a machine hooked up to her arm, humming constantly. She felt blood rise up in her throat, and she coughed, splattering bright red liquid over her white covers.
Her chest shivered to a halt, and she glanced at the doors, turning the blanket over. She couldn't let the nurses see. They'd operate on her again, or something stupid along the likes of that.
Roy leaned against the wall outside Riza's infirmary room. The small Christmas present he had bought for her was rumpled and disheveled-looking as he balanced it on his fingertips. He tossed it into the air, and caught it again smoothly. Standing up, having finally summoned up enough nerve to visit Riza, he pushed the door open.
Riza looked up suddenly, startled. Her eyes turned cold as she saw her superior enter. She saluted him stiffly, coldly. "Good afternoon, sir." Dropping her hand, she busied her hands and eyes with the fraying corner of her blanket.
Roy tried to smile, but his muscles wouldn't work. So he merely placed the small present on her tableside. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, and before he left, he remembered how Riza had pulled her hand away from him, and how much it had hurt to watch her. He had seen how blank her eyes had been when she had saluted him. Roy paused before the door, head slightly bending down, at the floor, when he said quietly, "Merry Christmas, Lieutenant." His voice was polite, mild, but formal. So formal, it stung Riza, and so suddenly. It was as if they had just met yesterday.
Riza watched Roy move out of the room, and waited until he left before she even allowed herself to look at the small present. Picking it up gingerly, she untied the ribbon carefully, and opened the lid. She almost dropped it with surprise; it was a delicate necklace, with a small heart-shaped locket dangling from the end. Opening it, she blinked. A picture of Roy was grinning back at her, ever-careless, with his trademark smile on his face and rumpled black hair. And she herself was there too. Roy had his arm thrown around her, and she still had her constant frown, stiff and so reserved as usual; it had been last Christmas. She traced her lips, feeling the flesh curve downward. She almost laughed at herself. How stiff she was. She was like the exact opposite of Roy. She remembered everything, down the very last detail, while Colonel couldn't even remember his own uselessness in the rain.
Riza looked down at her lap. A small piece of paper had fluttered down from the box. Picking it up, she unfolded it and read it quietly: "To Riza Lieutenant Hawkeye: Merry Christmas, and have a happy New Year. Love from, Roy."
It was then Riza realized her own mistake. The man who had shot her, however much they looked alike, was not the Roy she knew. And though she would never admit it, she knew she loved him as well.
Riza rang the bell by her bedside, calling for a nurse. A nurse, complete with a uniform and a cap, marched in, her red high-heels clicking irritatingly on the tile floors. "Yes, Lieutenant, ma'am?"
Riza's face was set back to its familiar stern and stiff look. "I'd like to see Colonel Roy Mustang. I am allowed to have visitors, right?"
The nurse looked bewildered. "I'm afraid you won't be able to see him, ma'am."
"Why not?" Riza frowned.
The nurse nodded toward the window. "He was decommissioned today, until further notice."
Riza felt blood rush to her mouth, and she coughed, splattering blood everywhere. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think about anything, but Roy. What have I done?
Roy sighed, leaning his head against the cold pillar outside the military building. He'd been decommissioned. Resting his arm on his knee, with the other leg stretched out, he looked up into the cold, gray sky, and it reminded him of Riza.
He laughed sadly, quietly. The military was the only thing that kept them together, and the only thing that could keep them apart.
Roy sighed, white snowflakes melting on his fingertips. Shivering, he pulled his brown coat around him even tighter; they'd even taken his uniform away. He smiled, remembering how loudly both Havoc and the rest of his subordinates had protested. Havoc had actually flipped the Fuhrer off.
Roy stumbled to his feet, cold and aching. He turned to the towering, gray, snow covered building that had been his home for so many years. His hand raised to his forehead; a salute. He looked up at the tiny windows; so far up they looked miniscule. Somewhere among them, Riza would see him. She would. He expected her to come running out, all of a sudden, despite her injuries…
But as he waited longer, she did not. It was all wishful thinking. Roy forced himself to laugh, and he saluted once again. "To the military." He padded away into the harsh cold and ice. He couldn't see her.
Riza sat up in bed. They had warned her not to exert herself; they had diagnosed her with lung cancer. A nurse came in, making sure Riza didn't do anything that would harm herself; but even as she tried to smile at the lieutenant, she could see how blank her eyes were; they were dull, and her cheeks were pale.
She had always known it hadn't been him. It was a different man, who shot her. She leaned toward the frosted windows once more, and squinted slightly; there was a dark figure that seemed to be looking up at her. Riza rubbed the window with her hand, tried to melt the frost away, but to no avail. She sighed, and a she could almost see him grinning at her in her mind. Riza knew they would not see each other in the military ever again; the evidence was too strong against him. They Fuhrer was gracious enough to let him leave without further trouble; just as long as he never came back again. Will we meet again? A single tear coursed down her cheek, forgotten and unchecked, like a raindrop in a thunderstorm. Lost.
And Roy walked away, into the bitter snow, without ever knowing how she felt. Without ever saying goodbye.
To think that they always seem to look the other way at the wrong time.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ed, Mustang, or Fullmetal Alchemist. You know the rest.
Please, R&R! I know, it's dramatic, but I like drama so… go figure. Roy and Riza. Rated T for future… chapters.
--A few people asked me to post the chapters together, so I'll try, but don't be surprised if I don't, loves… Thanks!
CHAPTER 4
Roy leaned on his elbows, hunched forward slightly. He swirled the contents of his glass quietly, staring absentmindedly out a rain-streaked window. Bright forks of lightning were flashing in the sky, illuminating the world in a pale, white light before vanishing again. With every explosion of light, came a rumbling thunder, shaking the world with deafening noise.
Setting his glass down quietly, he hid his face in his hands, trying to drown the aching and throbbing in his heart with as much beer as he could take. But no matter what, he could still see Riza's face swimming in his thoughts, flashing a rare, pretty smile that almost broke his heart. She was still there. He couldn't forget her. Not even after leaving the military for a year, and not even after being miles away from Central…
The bar was a warm, cozy place, with homely, wooden chairs and tables and a merry fire blazing in the fireplace. The fire shone a warm, comforting light around him. He was alone; expect for the bartender, a plump, rosy-cheeked woman.
The bartender was busy wiping a cup with a clean rag. Roy ran a hand through his messy black hair. Without looking up, she asked, "Hard day, sweetheart?"
It was odd, being called sweetheart by a woman younger than he but he shrugged it off. "Yeah."
"Looking for someone?"
Roy frowned. "You read my mind."
She chuckled. "Nope. Not really, honey. A woman came in here, earlier today. She was looking for someone, too." Her laughter died. "Poor thing. Pale as moonlight, she was, with such a frown on her face. Looked tired, like she's been wandering forever."
Roy froze. "What'd she look like?"
The bartender shrugged. "Can't remember too well. Blonde hair, I think. Tied up in a clip, with eyes so dark, they looked red, almost. She was wearing a military uniform, though, which I remember thinking was odd, because the military officials don't usually come around here…" Roy felt his heart stop beating.
"Did she tell you where she was going?" His heart was elated with hope, and his heartbeat quickened.
The bartender nodded. "She was trying to find a place to stay. I think she went to The Red Pony."
Roy flew out the door, his chair banging to the ground. Tearing open the door, he sprinted down the empty streets, turning corner after corner, frantic and slick with rain, until he caught sight of a small delicate form pushing the door to the Red Pony open. Her hair was blonde, falling around her shoulders like gold curtains, reflecting the cozy warm light of the inside of the Red Pony.
Roy gasped, hopefully, "RIZA!"
The figure turned, and his heart rose into his throat: RIZA. She dropped her coat, and clapped one small hand to her mouth. Golden hair was plastered to the sides of her pale face, eyes bright with tears and wide with surprise.
Riza ran toward him, and threw her slim arms around his neck, crying and laughing all at once. Roy merely buried his face in her sweet, sweet hair, and cried. They were together again.
CHAPTER 5
Note: Sorry about all the disclaimers!
I finally got the chapters up into one story... Sorry I didn't do it before, I was really busy.
Anyways, I don't know who serlgurl is... or whoever... So yeah. R&R, pretty please! You don't know how much good revies mean to me. It's the only the that keeps me writing these fanfics... and my love for FMA!
--Thanks, yuki-chanRiza dried her hair with a white towel inside the Red Pony. Roy was sprawled across the bed, snoring lightly. His black hair was rumpled again, and his face was relaxed, for once. Whenever he shifted, the thick blankets around him crinkled and made a slight rustling noise.
Riza sat beside him, unaware to the smile playing across her lips. Her heart was elated, and she was so, incredibly, deliciously happy. She'd seen him again.
Riza bit her lip. Her lungs itched horribly, and her throat turned dry. Not now! I can't let him-
She let out a cough that racked her whole, entire body, and she clamped a clean, white handkerchief around her mouth. Glancing at it fearfully, she saw a flash of bright crimson; blood. Please don't let it wake him up, please don't let it wake him-
Roy stirred, and sat up, yawning. "Riza, are you-?" He stared quizzically at her handkerchief, cocking his head.
Riza stammered, "Is-is something there, sir?"
Roy squinted, then his eyes grew wide with horror. "Oh God, don't tell me you have-" He grabbed her slim wrist, and twisted it around, forcing the palm face-up. Riza tried desperately to yank her hand away, but to no avail. He had seen it.
Roy's face fell. "Oh God, Riza, oh God…" Riza turned away. "How long have you had this?"
Riza shut her eyes. Go away, disappear… Roy grabbed her shoulders and jerked her around, eyes snapping open, bellowing, "HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD THIS?"
Riza felt tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, despite herself. She whispered, "A year. When you left, they diagnosed me, sir, with… with consumption." Her throat grew into a tight lump.
Roy buried his face in his hands. "This shouldn't-this can't-" She could hear the fear in his voice.
Riza closed her eyes again, silent tears streaming down her face. "I've only got a year more to live, sir. I-I was supposed to die last year, sir. I wasn't supposed to live this long." Riza sat down quietly in a chair, and turned her back to the Colonel. Leaning her head against the wooden frame, she whispered, "This is why I had to find you, sir." She touched a silver heart-shaped locket around her neck; a present from Roy, from Christmas. "I had to tell you." She turned to him, biting her lip. "I love you, sir. I love you."
Roy could feel tears course down his face, unchecked. And he screamed, shattering the silence. This wasn't supposed to end this way. This wasn't supposed to end this way…