Heir to the Flame

Chapter 4: Fearing Tomorrow

"Riza..." Roy shook Riza's shoulder gently and whispered in her ear to get up. She moaned and turned over, careful to remember not to roll on her stomach. His mouth twitched into a smile and he stroked her hair for a minute before getting out of bed at last, throwing off the covers and heading for the bathroom. He looked at the alarm clock and frowned. "It's already ten o' clock, Riza. Both of us are really late." He heard her squeak from the bedroom and jump up in a flurry of sheets and race to another bathroom.

Roy was taking his time to eat breakfast, which consisted of a piece of toast since he had forgotten to go to the store for groceries the day before. Riza wolfed down her slice of toast, petted Black Hayate, left him a bowl of food and water, and bolted out of the door with the car keys. She did a double-take and went back to the doorway. "Aren't you coming?" she asked the unmoving Roy who was still scanning the newspaper with ferocious interest. "You take the car, I'll walk. It'll be less conspicuous that way," he said shooing her out of the door. She gave him a quick kiss and got into the car, started it up, and drove away.

He stood in the doorway for a little while, watching as the car receded into the distance, then retreated back inside. He picked up the phone, thought about dialing Maes' number, remembered that he wouldn't be there anyway, and put the phone back down. He picked the newspaper back up instead and scanned the headline, a cynical smirk on his face.

" 'Festival in honor of The General Who Ordered His Own Death By Firing Squad.' Hmph. What do they know?" he threw the paper onto the floor and Black Hayate obediantly picked it up and deposited it into the trash can. He squatted down and petted the little dog between his ears, and Black Hayate barked and yipped happily, tongue lolling in happiness.

"Doesn't take much to please you, huh Hayate?" Black Hayate yipped happily and nipped at his tail. Roy straightened and took the paper out of the trash bin and unfurled it, tucked it under his arm, and trooped up the stairs. His hand paused on the rail that lead from the fourth floor to the fifth, he hesitated, then took his hand off the rail and warily approached one of the rooms. He touched the doorknob slowly and recoiled as if it had shocked him, then twisted it slowly.

Sometimes when he forgot himself he thought that his father would still be sitting on the edge of the bed, feet propped uncerimoniously on his desk, reading a book or looking through family photos. He remembered that when he was a little boy, he used to love having his father read books to him with his mother cuddled against him to explain long words to him or tell him to be quiet when he was fidgety. He remembered her face as well, as if she had been there all his life, all along, instead of taken away from him at the young age of ten. Her hair was long and brown, shiny, healthy and strong, so shiny that he had become infatuated with it and liked nothing better than to pull and tug at it when she was sitting down. Her face was smooth and soft, the only sharp feature of her face being her eyes, small and green, slanted like his own. Her mouth was always in a half-smile, a half-smile that burst into a full one when she was inside the house, where she was safe.She had been a little on the petite side, small boned and slender, quiet but deadly.

His father was the complete opposite. Tall, broad-shouldered, proud and strong, he had long locks of jet black hair that hung over his face, but large dark eyes that seemed like deep wells of ink and a grin that could light up a room, a smirk that quickly iced it over again.His face was the same as Roy's, more a flattish oval in shape but with a more prominant nose and larger eyes than his only son, but there was always the demeanor, the pride and grace that seemed almost hereditary in the Mustang family, the line of the Flame. He had always been straightforward, protective, but a loving father.

Every first born Mustang son became a State Alchemist in the military under the name of the Flame Alchemist; to the military they were an asset that was to be coveted and rightly so. The Flame Alchemists were the most destructive alchemists in the military, not only because of their power over a mighty element, but also because of their calm collected manner that won over superiors without actually having to lick their shoes and grovel for them. In the old days of the military, that had been the most desirable trait of any soldier and Mustangs in the military usually were in high ranks and close to higher ups, respected and well-known for being loyal to a fault.

But things had changed, and his father's death had blared that turning point more than anything else ever had; the loss of General Leroy Mustang was mourned throughout Amestris and an entire week was set aside by the people to pay their respects; his death was mourned even more than the death of the former Fuhrer, and in this cloud of confusion and crying, King Bradley had somehow been elected Fuhrer.

He sat on the edge of the bed. How ironic, that twenty years later he was sitting in the exact same place his father had, mulling over the exact same question: how could he protect his family?

He checked the clock and saw that it was eleven, and thought that he had best get a move on. He opened the door, locked it, and walked out.

At work he ignored the secretary who asked where he had been and went straight to the office, even bypassing Jean's probing questions. He paused to listen to Fuery comment to Falman that the First Lieutenant was acting strangely, and asked Falman if she was pregnant. Roy's mouth twitched irritably. Was there nothing else in the office to talk about? He opened his office door and stood there, startled, then locked the door quietly behind him. He walked softly over to the couch and cradled Riza's head in his arms. "Riza, Riza wake up... It's Roy, I'm here now..." She whimpered softly in her sleep and opened her eyes after a few minutes. "You came..."

He nodded. "I did. I wasn't just going to leave you to struggle through... through this," he said patting her stomach.

"They're transferring me, Roy..." she was shivering and he hugged her tightly against him. "You remembered what I said? Stay with Maes, you'll be alright." She nodded and kissed him passionately, and he returned it with equal ferocity until there was a loud knock on the door. She pulled away hesitantly, tears in her eyes, and he ran his fingers down her cheek tenderly. "It's okay, everything will be okay, I promise."

He crossed to the door and flung it open to reveal a grinning Maes Hughes, and he sighed, relieved. "Maes... it's you." Hughes threw a glance over his shoulder and strode into the office. "Your darn right it's me! I've got some important cases to discuss with you!" he followed Roy in and locked the door again, then scrutinized Riza. "Have you been abusing her? She's been crying!"

Roy turned a livid shade of red. "What the hell possesses you to open your mouth and make stupid comments?" he hissed. Maes held up his hands innocently and addressed Riza. "Well how have you been feeling? Throwing up, mood swings, pain, anything?" She nodded curtly andtried to hide her belly from view, to which Maes nodded approvingly. "Already protective, she'll be a good mother. I'm more concerned with this one however..." he poked Roy in the chest and Roy frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"It means that I'm wondering whether you've really decided to put all your playboy days behind you, Roy."

"Of course I have! I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have gotten Riza pregnant if I wasn't serious!"

"But you didn't know that she was pregnant until recently."

He looked away guiltily and Maes stared him down. "You have to be ready to commityourself Roy; that's your baby, and you have to take care of it. That kid didn't have the choice to be brought into the world, but you did." Roy nodded.

"Good, we have an understanding! Now I just wanted to prep you in-"

"I won't be able to do any of that Maes."

"What?"

"Riza... is being transferred to Central. To be Haruko's slave!" he burst out angrily and Maes' face darkened. "Haruko, eh? I'll keep an eye out for her, and I'll tell Armstrong to do the same, although I think he'll do it regardless of whether I tell him or not."

"You won't... you won't let anything happen to her, will you Maes?" he asked, gripping her shoulder tightly,

"No, of course not! But maybe you two should spend a night alone together, alright?"

They nodded and Maes Hughes walked out again to leave them together. She scooted over to give him room to sit and he sat, his arm twined around her neck. "Are you feeling alright?"She gave a half-hearted nod and ran her fingers gently over her stomach. "I'm worried about our baby..." He kissed her neck and put his hand over hers, trying to assuage her fears. "I am too... God, Riza, I am too. When... when are you going to leave? Next week?"

"Tomorrow morning," she whispered.