Part 2

The date tapped one of her expensive heels against the pavement impatiently. From where she was standing, she could see the colonel having a heated conversation with that weird servant of his. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he was making her wait out here in the rain.

Jeeze, she thought, when all my friends were telling me about how rich and funny and good in bed Roy Mustang is, they forgot to tell me how irritating he is, too!

Because he really was a nut job, she mused. She'd spent half the night trying to flirt with him, and all he did was act like he was at a fricken funeral. First of all, he wouldn't drink anything, even though she must have asked him if he wanted a shot of vodka or a martini a thousand times. At the time, she'd thought his obviously forced sobriety (he'd stared at her own Bloody Mary like he was dying of thirst) was kind of cute, but after a while she began to realize that it would have been a lot better if he had gotten drunk. At least then, she could have passed his weirdness off as a result of the booze.

That was another thing her friends had forgotten to mention when describing the great Colonel Mustang—he wasn't normal. Half the time, she'd gotten the sense that he wasn't even listening to her! And when she'd tried to get closer to him, he'd reacted like she was trying to stab him or something. He'd gone to the bathroom at least three times- without having a single sip of something nice and alcoholic. Either he had the world's weakest bladder, or he was trying to ditch her. The very thought pissed her off- guys did not reject her. Ever.

Finally, she'd figured that he was just one of those cocky bastards who only wanted to talk about himself. That was fine by her; she was too drunk to really carry on a conversation by that point, anyway. So, she'd given him a chance to start bragging--something she'd always found very appealing in men; the more confident a guy was, the better chance of his succeeding in life and becoming a millionaire, right? But Roy… what had he done? Mumbled a few short sentences about a war he was supposed to be proud of, and then dropped back into that annoyingly gloomy silence. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was depressed people- they were boring.

Yeesh, she groused to herself after he made that pathetic plea to change topics, he acts like he's ashamed or something. I don't get it, why would he give a shit? No one else does. Who cares about a bunch of Ishbalans, anyway? They're just a bunch of weirdos who live like savages, right?

Besides, if he was going to be depressed like that, why didn't he just get drunk so he wouldn't have to worry about it? That's what normal people did. But, nooo, Roy kept on refusing drinks up until the very end, when he grabbed a half-empty vodka bottle and began guzzling its contents like he was trying to drown himself. God, the man could be so angsty…

Of course, compared to his conversation of choice, she would have rather picked his moping. At least then he wasn't going on about that stupid secretary of his. Oh, wait, maybe she wasn't a secretary…but, whatever, she still sounded like a freak. A girl who was famous for shooting people? Gross! Why didn't she just pretend to be a man altogether while she was at it! And Roy was so obsessed with her! Like, hello, she didn't care about this random military dog. Why should she, the girl sounded like a servant! But servant or not, every five seconds it was 'Riza this' and '1st Lieutenant that'. Puh-leeze. No one cared that she saved his ass in Ishbal. What self-respecting man would brag about being saved by a woman, anyway?

She'd been more then happy to get out of the bar and head for Roy's house. From what she'd heard, she figured that Roy's prowess in bed would make up for the boring conversation and rants about some other ugly bitch. But of course, he had to complicate that too. He just had to run into that lieutenant girl of his. The date had nearly burst out laughing when she saw this Riza person he was so fixated on. He actually thought she was attractive! Hah! She had sludge on her knees and hands, really creepy eyes, and pale skin—Hello, hasn't she ever heard of makeup?!

Her choice of clothing left a lot to be desired, too- not one designer item anywhere. And her shoes were all muddy and scuffed up.

I guess that's what military women are like!

And then, of course, Roy Mustang had gone and acted like a loser, staring at this boring girl like she was a god or something. Like, hello, who's the date here?

Not to mention, that girl was so bizarre! She sounded like a robot. And she was mean! Embarrassing her in front of Roy like that! Roy hadn't even bothered to stick up for her...

The last thing she wanted to do, after hurriedly fixing her dress, (a limited-addition designer favorite that was so totally worth the problems caused by the dangerously-low neckline), was to stand around waiting in the rain like some peasant, watching the man who was supposed to be showering love and attention on her drool over some weird robot-girl.

"Royyy!" she whined again. " Roy, come on! I'm getting wet. Besides, that girl already left! This isn't any fun, Roy!"

He slowly turned to look at her, and for a minute she felt nervousness tingle at the back of her neck from the look in his eyes. But then he laughed, and she relaxed. No worries, he was back to normal now. Honestly, though, he acted so weird around that military girl….good thing she'd gone.

Maybe now I can get Roy in bed, she thought hopefully. But for his sake, he better be, like, amazing, 'cause otherwise this date was a total bust.

Roy sauntered over to her, grinning. The date frowned. Something about that expression on his face was creeping her out big time. But, whatever, as long as he was willing to pay some attention to her for a change…

"Sorry 'bout that, baby." He slung an arm around her waist, still leering oddly. "Had some important business to take care off." He sighed, and his smile faltered. "Don't think I did a very good job, though…"

He looked at the date, his tone of voice almost begging. "I just really screwed things up, and…I have no idea how to fix them…you know. How totally messed-up things can get…how, sometimes, it's like, no matter what you say, everything will just keep getting worse and worse, and there's nothing you can do—"

"Um, like, ex-cuse me, Roy," the date interrupted him, sounding annoyed. "Not that having this little heart-to-heart isn't amazingly fun and all, but could we, like, not have it in the rain?"

He stared at her, uncomprehending. Surely even a girl this selfish and stupid couldn't be that hard-hearted...

"Yeah, yeah…sure…but, I mean, you understand, right? How crazy things can get? I mean, hell, I can't even focus on anything—"

"Uhm, like, yeah, that's kinda obvious. You're all, like, soaked and stuff. I would freak out if I was as messy as you are. I mean, I'm wearing designers! Now, could we get going? And move your arm, you're making me wet."

Roy stared. The date felt irritated uncertainty crawling up her spine. What was wrong with him now?? She opened her mouth to yell at him again, but then Roy laughed mirthlessly.

"Ah hah, forget it. Girls like you don't have a care in the world, right?"

"That is not true," she spouted indigently. "I do so have cares! The price of city living has just sky-rocketed, I'm paying so much rent these days…not that I can't afford it, but…"

Roy laughed again. The ditz frowned, wishing he'd stop doing that. It was really freaky, the way he was laughing.

"Some problem. It must have been so horrible for you…hah! So fucking horrible."

She scowled. Oh, that was it! "Listen, Roy. I don't know what's wrong with you, but I'm not happy! I wanted to have some fun tonight, and you're just weirding me out. Maybe I'd better go."

"Oh, c'mon baby, don't do that." He rubbed his eyes, which were oddly red, though they hadn't been a few moments before. "I didn't mean to piss you off, I just thought…." He paused. "I mean, when you went to the bathroom, I swiped some guy's scotch, and it's getting to me now, that's all."

The date felt herself smile with relief. Oh, so that was why he'd been acting so weird all night! He was drunk!

Winking at him seductively, she purred, "It's all right, sweetie. I understand. C'mon, let's go back to your place, and I'll make it all better."

Roy grinned weakly, noticing how easily she accepted his lie as truth. "You're gonna make it all better?" he murmured quietly, only half-aware that he'd even spoken aloud at all. "Don't bother, babe, I seriously doubt you could…"

"You say something, sweetie? I thought I heard you talking."

"Nah, I didn't say anything." He looked up at the sky again, wishing that for just one moment the clouds would give enough for him to see the stars.

"Oh, I guess it was like, the wind or whatever."

"Yeah….it must have been the wind."

The flames belched and sent smoke surging up into the blood-tinged air. The ruined shells of buildings on either side of the cracked and damaged road loomed menacingly, their scorched bricks and shattered glass threatening to rise up once and for all and destroy the invader. He stumbled helplessly in the chaos, blinded by the smoke, his throat and eyes red and raw from the intense heat. It hurt to think, to breathe, to function. Ashes floated in front of him, and when a few landed on his dirty uniform his stomach lurched and he swatted them away. Who knew if those ashes were from the unstoppable fires or the people caught in those flames? People caught in a hell of his own making…but Roy Mustang had no desire to play the devil.

He tried to speed up, desperate to escape this ruined land of death and twisted metal. His legs rebelled, and pain shot up his sides. He cried out, and lowered a hand to feel the wound. Had he been wounded? He didn't remember. He didn't remember anything but the feel of murderous heat pressing against his face, making it hard to breathe, and the sensation of dark-red ooze drying on his gloves. His hands came away from his side smeared with fresh blood. Was it his?

Oh fuck, I hope so. Damn it…

He looked around, franticly, trying to see something—anything—through the dark certainty of the dusty curtain that enveloped everything. "Hey," he yelled, hearing nothing but his own voice echoing crazily in reply. "Hey!!"

Where is everybody? Why am I the only one trapped here?

"Hey!" he called again, a note of panic in his voice. "Hey!!"

No answer. The fires crackled, snickering, and the burning buildings passed their silent judgment. The brutal wind took his voice and erased it, blowing hot ash his way so that he stumbled and gagged.

"Colonel!"

He looked up, surprised. Someone else was stuck here too?

"Colonel! Sir!"

He knew, somehow, that the woman was calling for him. "But I'm not a colonel," he mumbled thickly. "I'm still a major."

"Colonel, where are you!? Sir, please, answer me!"

I'm here, he tried to say, but the stench of burned and decaying flesh made him gag again. I'm here…

"Colonel!" the voice continued to call, persistently. "Don't worry, sir, I'll find you! Just hold on, sir, I'm coming!"

He managed to smile faintly. He couldn't quite remember who this woman was, but he knew, as surely as he'd known she was searching for him, that she would find him. His eyes stopped burning so badly, and the smoke cleared a bit. She was coming…everything was going to be ok…

"Colonel, I'm coming!"

He smiled again. Don't worry, it's ok. I can hold on…it's all going to be ok now. It's going to be alright…

"Colo—"

And then, her voice was cut off by the sharp crack of a sharpshooter's bullet finding its mark. Roy remained frozen in place, the echo of the gun being fired hammering smugly in his ears, thudding against his ear drums.

It was only after the noise finally began to fade that he became aware of another, softer, even more horrible sound….the muted, tortured cries of someone who has had the misfortune of being mortally wounded, but not killed outright, or even knocked unconscious.

They were the cries of someone who was about to die….

"Riza!"

Franticly, he took off running, dodging the rubble that lay in his path. He had to find her, had to get there in time—she was looking for me, it's my fault if she dies!

His feet pounded the pavement, and he was aware of a terrible roaring in his ears. His body was shaking despite the heat, and nausea kept drifting over him with poison-laced fingertips.

Oh, god, don't let her die! Do whatever the hell you want, just…don't you fucking dare take her away from me…!

He barreled around a corner, pressing himself to go faster. He was almost there, he could feel it…just a few more steps…

"Ahhgh…aah!!"

Screams tore at his lips as his left leg suddenly caved in, blood gushing down it from a small bullet hole that appeared suddenly, out of nowhere. He grabbed at the wound, gasping with pain, eyes wide and staring. When had he been shot? He didn't remember ever having been shot!

Another faint cry reached his ears, sounding much, much weaker. Roy groaned despairingly, straining to force himself back to his feet. The sweat ran down his face, mingling with the wet caress of blood leaking from him furiously. He felt dizzy, light-headed…he suddenly wanted nothing more then to close his eyes and sleep…

One last, dim moan from up ahead snapped him back to his senses. He pushed himself up, shrieking with pain as he tried to put pressure on the leg.

Oh, damn…oh, damn, it hurts so much!

He forced himself through sheer willpower to take a step forward, and then another, and another. Red-hot pain darted up and down his entire body—he choked, too-red blood jetting from his mouth to splatter onto the broken concrete below—but he refused to let himself fall.

"Riza….Riza, please, I'm coming….please…Riza…" He mumbled her name over and over again, the sound of it enough to keep his body from collapsing. But still, even that was beginning to lose its effect…his body screamed and begged to stop…

Roy staggered around another corner, more dead then alive. He knew this was the end, he knew he couldn't go any further…

Then his desperate eyes caught sight of a figure lying crumpled in front of him.

"Rizaaa!" he pleaded. "Get up! Get up!"

For a second, there was no movement, but then she stirred, and lifted her head up, looking over at him. She wavered, obviously straining simply to keep her head off the bloodstained ground.

"R…R-Roy…." he heard her choke out, weakly.

"Noo…" He looked up at the sky, which was so filled with burning embers that it almost seemed to be aflame itself. "Noo…don't you take her, damn it, don't you take her!!" He wasn't sure who he was cursing at—the god he didn't believe in? Himself? Maybe both…

His leg finally gave out and he sank to his knees. Fear and panic drove him onward, though, and he began to drag himself towards Riza, ignoring the sharp, agonizing fury racking his entire body. He was so close…so damn close…he knew, without a doubt, just like before, that if he reached her in time, it would be ok again. All he had to do was to reach out and touch her, even briefly, and she'd be ok…they'd be able to escape this land of bloated nightmares together…all he had to do was reach her…

She looked at him with her amber eyes filled with pain. She was saying something, but the words didn't reach his ears.

"Don't worry," he told her, told himself, "I won't let you down. I promise…!"

The minute the words were out of his mouth, it happened. His body gave one last, painful jerk—and Roy found himself unable to budge, his body from the waist down feeling like so much lead.

"W-What….?!" He gasped, horror-struck. "N-No, no, noo…!" He strained with all his might, to move even an inch forward. Even an inch more, and he'd be able to get to Riza. "Please!!" he begged. "Just one more inch! Just one…more…damn…inch!!"

It was no use. He remained trapped, unable to move even slightly. "Oh, shit…no!! This isn't happening!! This can't be happening!!"

Riza looked at him, her eyes pleading. With every passing second her head sank lower…

"No!! Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!! Hang on, Riza, please! Oh shit……oh shit!!"

Her eyes flickered shut, a thin stream of blood dripping from her mouth. Roy felt a surge of raw anger and misery so strong as to be uncontrollable.

"God damn it…god damn it! Damn it!!" His body fell forward with a lurch, and he found himself able to move again. He threw himself forward, blinded by rage, the world twisting around him dizzily, the darkest part of hell opening up underneath him…

He was just in time.

Just in time to see her head finally slump over, and her hands, which had been clenched over her stomach, drop limply to the ground. Roy didn't have to check her pulse to tell that she was dead. Even as he pulled her into his lap, he knew.

"Noo…"

A few faint curses came to his lips, but he found himself unable to breathe properly, much less speak. The dull buzzing had returned to his ears, and a strange, dead numbness was creeping its way through him towards his heart. His breath came out in harsh little gasps….his stomach rolled over and he would have puked again had there been anything left in him to throw up. The world was still spinning cruelly, and the flames behind him darted closer, eager to find something new to devour. He clutched convulsively at the body in his arms, as if anything he did now to save her had any point, any purpose to it.

"I was so close, though…" he whispered. "I mean…I was so close…and I promised her…I was so close…"

His mind was spinning far too fast for him to understand how foolish it was to try and argue with death.

He stared unseeingly down at her, at the still-bleeding bullet hole. He couldn't quite accept the awesome finality of it all. How could such a small piece of metal end her life the way it had? His body began to tremble uncontrollably, and he made no effort to move when an especially curious tendril of fire inched close enough to drop searing ashes on the back of his uniform. He ignored the burning sensation the cinders left him, still huddled over Riza's body, stupidly protecting her minutes after the fact….

It was then, as he cradled her body with a reverence bordering on sheer madness, did he notice the gun still strapped to her side.

Quickly, without pausing to think it over or even plan it out, he reached over and gently loosened the gun from its holster. He brought it up close to his face, rubbing his thumb over the trigger. The smooth metal gleamed at him, looking like the friendliest of signs. Somehow, the gun had remained spotless, not a spec of dirt or dust or blood on it anywhere. How odd…

Roy smiled faintly.

His hand moved on its own and placed the barrel against his head. Oddly enough, he felt no fear, no terror of the unknown, now that it came down to it. The thought crossed his mind, how stupid that men spend their entire lives worrying about something so wonderful…he looked down once more at the motionless figure at his feet, took one deep breath…and pulled the trigger.

Bam!

Pain too terrible to be described shot through him. Doubling over, senseless with agony, not aware that he was screaming at the top of his lungs, Roy gagged, feeling fresh, warm blood gush down either side of his face. Moaning now, he waited desperately for the final plunge into the next world…

But it never came. In disbelief, he realized that he was no closer to dying then he had been a minute ago.

"N-No-oo!!" he cried out. "This isn't…isn't possible!! It isn't…it isn't…"

His thoughts raced madly, I just shot myself point-blank in the head! I should be dead! I should be dead!

Frantically, half-crazed by now with fear and confusion and pain, he shot himself again and again, in the head, stomach, heart…but to no avail. No matter where he aimed, he remained miserably, helplessly, alive. The sudden and terrible realization came to him: I can't die. I can't end this. I can't…I can't…

He stared, scared out of his wits, down at Riza again. Suffering that had nothing to do with his physical injuries smashed into him as he tasted his unwanted immortality. He could never die, never join her….he would never see her again--!

Blam!

"No!"

Roy shot up in bed, eyes wide and the sheets sticking to him with sweat. His hair was plastered down to his skull, and it felt like he was having a heart attack, his heart was racing so furiously. Outside, rain continued to smash against the glass, and the wind rattled the window pains. A bolt of lighting jotted through the sky, followed almost immediately by another roar of thunder so loud it shook the house. He ran a hand that still shook slightly through his hair, somehow more exhausted then he'd been before he'd closed his eyes.

God damn…

He shook his head, waiting for his heart to slow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so glad to wake up. Oh, sure, he'd had more then his fair share of nightmares; he was certainly used to dreading going to sleep. Dreaming about the fiery hell of Ishbal was a routine thing by now. But this time… Roy gritted his teeth as he realized that tonight was the first time Riza'd ever been in one of his nightmares.

The room turned a brief yellow as another flash of lighting lit up the sky. He glanced around at the bedroom, which was the cramped, messy apartment one would expect from Central City's leading bachelor. Clothes were heaped all over the place, a radio that had been broken for weeks sat on a rickety end table, and the amount of dust on the window sills showed that Roy had dusted…maybe once….in about, say….ten years. Lying on top of the clothing pile nearest the bed was a dress, which obviously wasn't his. He turned at looked at the girl snoring next to him. She didn't seem to have noticed the fact that he'd been trembling next to her for half the night.

Roy sighed, really regretting the fact that he wasn't drunk. At least his date seemed content. He really didn't remember too many of last night's details…he knew there'd been sex involved, but after awhile, all the girls began to blur together. The girl he'd screwed last night could have just as easily been the girl from three weeks ago. For his part, Roy felt just as unsatisfied afterwards, even as the girl babbled on and on about what a wonderful love-maker he was. He hadn't had the strength to explain that screwing someone and love-making were completely different things. He'd had sex with plenty of girls, fine…but he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually made love to someone. There sure as hell hadn't been any love last night.

The date—dammit, what was her name! Gina? Tina? Something like that…--rolled closer to him, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol that still clung to her skin. If it was Riza lying next to him, tonight would have been different….

"Riza…" he murmured. The date opened one eye-lid for a second.

"Whaddya call me?" she mumbled drunkenly, still more then half-asleep. "S'not a very nice name….call me somethin' better, honey….mm…" She was snoring again.

Roy flipped over onto his side, as far away from her as he could get without falling over the edge of the bed. He was awake, listening to the thunder, for a long time before sleep finally overtook him.

AN- gah, i'm sorry, but i hadda make that dream as horrible as possible. i figured that for roy, it'd be worse if he couldnt die after everything, so thats why i didnt kill him off. sadly, i havent started the next chapter yet (blame my crazed english teacher and her damn 'new project every other day' thing) so i dunno when i'll be able to update again. i'll try to make it asap, but i dont like to rush writing-wise. i promise that i'll update eventually, tho! and i'll still check my reviews (i'm somewhat obsessed ;;) so review, please!

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EDIT- 9/30/06---wow, did this take forever to do. Oops. I tried to tone down the Date a bit; she was coming off as a caricature of a character, not a character. Honestly, though, what I'm working on now for this paring is WAY better then this thing. Eh...