Author's Note: I'm sorry if this does not make much sense to any of you at the moment. I let my mind wander from the begining of this story, and composed the rest of this chapter while under the influence of cold medication. Though I do hope you enjoy it, and if you want me to change anything or even just continue with this, leaving me a note saying so will help greatly.

Disconcertion

It was just an ordinary day, which meant everything that could go wrong, would go wrong. Even if there was nothing much to go wrong. And so this stood on the ordinary day's opening, at 0800 hours when the work day officially started at Central Head Quarters.

The first thing to go wrong was the absence of Hawkeye. She usually was seated at her desk promptly at 0730 and had everybody's paper work at their in-box before they sat down to the tireless day. Though it could not be called an absence, when the usually confident blonde strode into the office at 0817 and sat down at her desk; laying her head down, forehead coming into contact with a stack of papers. Her shoulders shook slightly, and her breathing was restrained, as if she were trying to keep from sobbing out loud.

This caused everybody, this everybody being inclusive to the area of which Roy Mustang had control over which meant these people were mostly male, to stand on edge away from the slowly breaking woman. Nobody had a clue what to say, or do in this situation as it was usually Riza Hawkeye whom was the calm and collected one. And to see her late, and reduced to tears was to say at least mildly frightening.

Being able to no longer contain her suppressed angst within, she let out a slow shaking sigh before an even more unsteady sob. The papers beneath her forehead were spared the tears the leaked from her eyes and immediately fell to the oak desk top that served as her resting point at the time being. These strange noises coming from the young woman startled her colleagues so much that they did not need her to give them warnings as incentive to get their paper work done, and they worked without complaint; that is until Roy Mustang stepped into the picture.

He would show his little compassion he had left, other than for Fullmetal that is, to his most loyal underling, subordinate, friend, "Riza... why are you crying?" was what he simply asked. His voice as monotone as any other ordinary day at Central. But his expressionless face fell into a rut of concern, a look that not many had seen on Roy Mustang's face.

The interaction between Mustang and Hawkeye slowly started to draw Havoc and Fury away from their work, amongst others and they slowly turned in their seats (finding it highly inappropriate to get up and crowd around the distressed woman) and tried not to watch the goings on too closely. After all it was quite rude to stare.

It took the young woman a few moments to calm down mentally, and physically. Her breathing became less labored, and steady, a good sign at least. Wiping her eyes and cheeks with her sleeve she looked up at her commanding officer with blood shot eyes. She hated herself for becoming so weak, so vulnerable to her emotions enough to break down in front of her colleagues, and superior. "I-it's nothing Sir," she said as she stood up and tried to escape the glances everybody was throwing her. Especially the concerned look in the Colonel's eyes. It bothered her. The way they made her think that they cared about her. To them, she was just an overbearing workhorse... with PMS and a gun. And that's all she wanted to be to them, the uncaring beings they were. Nobody had shed an ounce of concern for her since the day she had started working under Mustang's command. "I'm fine." Riza nodded her head solemnly as she walked away from her desk, new tears falling from her eyes.

She was fine, stoic, and held together. Always. But there was that goddamn law again, making things complicated. Slamming her open palm against the bathroom stall surrounding her, Riza exerted her anger against something inanimate. And away from prying eyes. Her life was in order the way she liked it, or she made a way to keep things in order. But that was not the case at the moment. Everything was falling apart at the seams, including herself.

Her job was becoming just that much more of a stress reliever, even though she is in constant peril because of her affiliation with the Elrics and Roy Mustang. The danger she was in was actually soothing her torrent of a personal life. Something as high-risk as a military job should not seem like some sort of relief. But the structure was what she needed, and today she fucked it up by bringing her personal baggage to work with her.

Riza's father was ill, dangerously so for the past few months. In fact all of his doctors had pretty much given him the same diagnosis, imminent death. And soon. He was all she had, really. Ever since she was a young girl it had been only him and her. The two were inseparable after Riza's mother, and his wife had passed away in an accident. She was lost already, and he was still alive. There was no way she could cry in front of him anymore, it just was not an option. So she spent her nights alone in bed crying to her hearts content until she needed sleep so much, that her eyes would just fall shut from mental and physical exhaustion. And the next morning she would pretend that everything was okay.

The only person she had beside her father, was Roy. And it was her job to care for him too… but in a more professional way. She had made a promise to her father that she would protect him. Roy was a family friend after all and everyone knew of his hot-headedness and his tendencies to get into trouble. The two men were the only things in the world she lived for. And really Riza did not pretend to care for them, like she did the others.

Pretend was the key word. It was as if her life had become some big game now, charades at best. And a bad try at acting at the least. Keeping everything welled up enough that just one more stone in the well would make it overflow. Not letting anyone close enough to see just how tired she was, or to talk to. Not like anyone could ever have any suspicion as to question her as they just went on their merry way thinking of only themselves. Just keeping everything in was detrimental, and was liable for her to burst like she did this morning. Though a stone had been cast into her well when she woke up to the phone ringing.

Her father had indeed passed away this morning. In his sleep at least. The shock of it was enough to shatter her resolve and she started to sob as the police spoke to her so calmly over the phone. The life she had built around strict scheduling, and observation was gone in those few moments. All she could do was grasp at the straws of her life, the way it was falling apart. And keep to a normal schedule until after work where she could make the arrangements for the funeral services.

And those few straws too had fallen from her grasp as she was late for work, just another thing wrong with the day. Why not allow the rest of her mental resolve to go and to let her emotions out. Thusly starting off the day sobbing, more than once, more than twice. But three times. Three was a lucky number, was it not? So maybe, just maybe when she was finished in the rest room, she would be able to face the rest of the day without faltering.

This ordinary day for everyone else, was anything but for Riza Hawkeye. And she knew it as she wiped her eyes and nose with some toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet when she was finished. Calming her breathing down, she exited the stall, and promptly washed her face of what remaining make-up that was littering her cheeks in streaks of running inconstancies.

Their eyes are all over me, just expecting me to break down again… It is all I can do to deter them from questioning me is to keep on working.

No, I simply can't just keep moving. I don't know how to.

I never did learn. There are certain things parents are supposed to teach you, but I never learned any of it. Father was my only hope to learn, and all he did was put a bandage over things, almost ignoring the problem.

Gods… I love him…loved. No. Stop… love.

Alright concentrate woman, there is plenty of time to grieve at home, your work must be done or the others will lament of the atrocities I put them through to finish their work. I won't be able to take their suffrage much longer, so I must not be a hypocrite.

Though I suppose I already am. I promised him I wouldn't cry for him.

I told him I wouldn't.

But here I am… Or was… crying.

Stop it Riza, just stop thinking.

It startled the others around her when she slammed her pen down onto her desk with a frustrated and shaky sigh. She couldn't seem to get out of the constant stare of Mustang, whom kept his door open oddly enough this day.

It's to keep an eye on you, her subconscious screamed. And she knew it, that their roles had been adversely reversed. Her mind was getting the best of her at this moment, and she was finding it harder and harder as the moments crept by to focus on her work. Time was almost seemingly at a stand still, and roaring by at the same time. She feared making arrangements, confronting the fact that he really was gone and that the call was not just a joke.

Riza was seen pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes clenched as tightly as her other fingers were on the side of the desk.

Carefully, and quietly Jean Havoc rose from his own seat and made his way over to her side. Crouching down, he was about eye level with the woman when he started to speak to her, "Riza," formalities aside, he knew it wasn't important at the moment, "why are you at work today? Something obviously is wrong."

And for once in her life, she did not try and cover herself with a stoic mask, to try and keep all others at bay. She allowed herself to turn to face Havoc, and slowly opened her watering eyes. "What was your first guess?" her voice sounded more than distant. The sarcasm lost in the severity. "I need structure Jean… to know that some things haven't changed on me overnight…" For some reason unbeknownst to her, she was actually willing to let Jean know what was bothering her. But she could not bring herself to say it in front of all the prying ears. In front of all these people whom really didn't care and just wanted to know some new gossip to spread around.

The frown on Jean's face only deepened at those words coming from her. "Maybe the Colonel will let us use his office, so we could talk privately." It was all he could do to offer an ear at least, and his advice at his best. But this was no where to be talking about such things, and if there was any sort of God, he or she only knew that her problem would be made worse if everyone were to know. Though he knew that was only part of her problem this day.

This day was turning out to be anything but ordinary.