AN- :reviewer responces will be at the end this time around.:
OK then. soo glad i finally got this done. you have NO IDEA how hellish it was to write. 'bout mid-way thru, i suddenly got hit wit the worse case of writer's block i've had so far. i literally spent three days sitting there STARING at themw filewithout typing more then a line or two. it was rather bad, lol. but it's gone now, so yay. the second section is where it bit down the worse, so in my opinion that part sucks. OOCness abounds in that chunk, tho i did my best with that. writer's block's a bitch, tho, so keep that in mind while you're going, 'wtf they'd never say that!'
anyways...i'm annoyed that wb hit NOW of all times, cause i was really lookin' foward to this chapter. it's the one that 'started it all' so to speak; i randomly formed a bare-bones story idea 'round some screenshots i saw--not even planning on writing it down--and as time went on, just kept adding to the idea 'till i coodnt NOT write it down. amazingly, i only had 3 chapters planned origionally 0.0;;. dont ask me where the other 14 came from! XD
ahh...not counting this, only 3 chapters left...+ one of them's the epilouge, too...;;...:sigh:...ah well, onwards to the story! (and the angst, lol.)
Rebirth
Nngh…
As her eyes fluttered open, Riza was struck by a sensation much like the one that comes after having the air knocked out of you-a peculiar sort of gasping for oxygen that you know is there, but that you can't seem to suck into your lungs. Her eyelids felt heavy; it took some effort to get them to open and stay open. Her head, her chest-everything hurt, everything was throbbing and sore. But at least she was alive to feel the soreness.
Slowly, experimentally, she moved her arms up and down, first the right, then the left. It was an old combat trick- test out the limbs first, because straining to use broken arms or legs could make the damage even worse. Luckily for Riza, it seemed that her extremities were still in one piece, more or less. Her left arm was stinging rather painfully, but it wasn't such an overbearing discomfort that she couldn't get past it.
Standing was a bit trickier. At first, Riza tried using the bricks behind her as a sort of leverage to pull herself to her feet, but they crumbled into useless powder at the slightest touch. Plus, half the wall had already been knocked down, so there wasn't much to grab onto in the first place. Finally, hissing under her breath at the wave of pain standing set off, she managed to get to her feet unaided. There was a bad moment where she felt as if she might buckle with dizziness- colorful dots rushed in front of her eyes, and the ground seemed to heave beneath her feet. The moment passed, however, and after a few deep breaths, Riza found that some of the stiffness was already starting to go away.
The immediate concerns of getting back on her feet taken care of, the lieutenant allowed herself a minute or two of surprise. Surprise, that is, that she was-somehow-still alive. Normally, Riza wouldn't have dwelt for very long on the particulars of her survival—she was still breathing, ok, great, time to move on. But in a case like this…stuck there, watching the pillar of water coming right at her, unable to free herself from either the wall or her jacket, she'd resorted to Plan C (a plan created out of desperation, one that hadn't been there a second ago), and quickly ducked down as low as she could, hoping that the worst of the water's power would miss her. If only she could stay in one piece, she'd figured, she could handle whatever other injuries she received. As it seemed to have turned out, Plan C had been successful. The wall behind her had taken the worst of the onslaught, not her. Still…Riza felt uncomfortable shivers run down her spine at the condition the wall was currently in. That could have very easily been her, lying smashed on the pavement.
A cold breeze blew by just then, causing her to shiver. Upon looking up, Riza discovered that the sky had undergone another color change, this time from dusty charcoal to an almost midnight shade of black. Yes…there was definitely going to be one last giant storm before the past month's bad weather came to an end.
There was another, stronger gust of wind, and Riza felt fresh goose bumps rising up along her arms…wait….she looked down at her arm with raised eyebrows. Exactly where had the shoulder to her uniform gone? The epaulettes normally on the right shoulder of her jacket were…not there. Weird…could the force of the water have blown them off? Riza doubted it.
Something suddenly dripped into her left eye, stinging and momentarily blinding her. She quickly wiped the foreign substance out of her eye, only to find that it was blood. Not surprising, really- there were plenty of cuts on her face, not to mention a large lump that felt suspiciously like a welt left over from a punch or kick.
Ignoring the wounds for now (they were relatively small anyway), she looked up and down the empty street. No sign of Sloth…but there were puddles everywhere, and Sloth could be posing as any one of them. In fact, Riza wouldn't be surprised if—
Clunk.
Clunk?
Riza looked down to see a long, thin black tube by her feet. Evidently she'd just stepped on it. Huh…strange…the object looked familiar. It looked sort of like…
Sort of like the barrel of a gun. Which was, of course, exactly what it was—a gun's barrel. Or, to be more specific…Roy's gun's barrel.
Roy…
Riza gasped. Her eyes widened, and her stomach dislodged itself from its normal place of residence and wound up in her throat. She stared down at the useless thing by her feet, and she remembered…
Roy!
Twenty minutes…she was supposed to have gone after Roy once exactly twenty minutes had passed, but, hell…that damn fight with Sloth alone had taken more then ten! Plus, there was all that time she had spent knocked out…
"Damn it!"
Riza was never really one for cursing—at the very least, she sure as heck didn't have the potty mouth of her superior. But she cursed now-quite loudly, at that. She tried to tell herself that Roy would be strong enough to last on his own, at least for a while, but found herself unable to believe that, even for whatever small particles of comfort it would bring…
How long was I unconscious? She wondered desperately. There was another, more persistent question also reverberating in her mind, masked in the first one's seeming innocence--
How much time did I waste?
She brought her arm up, the aches that action brought with it now the farthest thing from her mind, only to find that her watch was no longer around her wrist. It took her an extra four minutes of harried searching before she finally found the damn thing, lying by the curb in a puddle of water. Four more minutes, wasted…
She lifted the sopping wet article to her face, almost unwilling to see how late she was. At first, she wasn't sure if the watch was even working any more—there was a crack, as thin as a hair, running diagonally across the face, and the band itself was in shreds. However, when she held it against her ear, she was able to make out a faint ticking, and decided that, despite being seriously waterlogged, the timepiece was still functional. She glanced down at the dial…
Riza stared. The watch shook ever-so-slightly in her hands. She shook her head, once, twice, three times. No. No. No way in hell. The watch was broken after all—it had to be. It had to be….there was no way that much time had gone by. There was no way that it had been that long since Roy had left. There was no way he had been gone that long…
There was no way he had been gone almost…an hour…
If their positions had been reversed, if it had been Roy clutching that watch, he might have been able to convince himself that it was all a lie, that the watch was broken and everything was ok. But not Riza…Riza didn't believe in denial…she knew the truth, the cold, sharp, acidic truth, all too well.
Roy had been gone an hour. Not only had she failed miserably in her part of the mission, but in all that time, he still hadn't come back…
She looked up, and then nearly laughed aloud in her bitterness. What was she doing? Did she really think that Roy Mustang was just going to waltz around the corner with that damn grin on his face? Did she really think he'd magically appear, smothered in a smug aura that at the same time was apologetic, because he knew he'd worried her? Of course not. Of course she didn't believe that vision would actually happen. But, at the same time, she knew she'd give anything just then for it to come true…
Roy had been gone an hour…
Riza dropped the watch, jumped to her feet, and took off running down the street. Her body's aches and pains, Sloth, the mission—all of these thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind. Even though it went against everything she'd ever been taught in the military, she forgot about the larger picture completely. (And this was so unlike Riza, it was almost scary, because normally she held a firm belief that the mission was more important then the soldiers carrying it out—for instance, she'd willingly and without hesitation sacrifice her own life so that Roy's goal of becoming president might come true. But…Roy had done something to her, changed her somehow, although she couldn't for the life of her figure out what or why. She didn't think she ever would be able to figure it out, either.)
No, all the things that she would usually be focused on—all the things that she would label as more important then any individual person—were gone, buried somewhere deep, and she wasn't about to stop to dig them out. Through out it all, as she ran, there was only one thought that she would later on be able to recall—it would stand out crystal clear in her memory, as if it had been frozen in ice for all eternity. Only one thought, however irrational and unlike her it was…
The thought that if Roy died…then so would she.
The prison loomed menacingly in front of Riza. She wasn't sure if it was a good sign or bad that the building wasn't currently being devoured in flames. Carefully, she peered around the corner of the empty building she was hiding behind, but, as with everything else that had happened today, luck was against her. She wouldn't be able to walk—or even sneak—into the prison, not as long as it was being guarded. Now, if it was just a typical lackey guarding the only entrance she could see, Riza wouldn't have blinked—it would have taken her maybe, oh…say…five seconds? to take down the guard and move on. But when the guard in question was Sloth…weell…that's when things started getting a tad more difficult.
Riza gritted her teeth in annoyance, trying to figure out what to do now. True, now that she knew where Sloth was, she didn't have to worry about being attacked from behind, but how could she get in the building with the homunculus right there? She couldn't climb over the wall surrounding the place, there was barbed wire stretched all along it. The only way in was through the courtyard—the same courtyard that Sloth was standing in front of with her arms crossed, expressionless.
If Sloth is still guarding the entrance, then Roy is still in there…she frowned. I can't afford to waste any more time…I need to get in there, and if the only way in is past the homunculus, then…
Riza stepped out from behind the building, in full sight of Sloth. She held in one hand her gun, even though she knew it would be useless. Sloth, sensing movement, looked up and over at her, and her empty face took on a slightly shocked expression.
"…You." There was only the faintest trace of surprise in the homunculus's voice; to look at her, it wouldn't seem that she was even interested, much less taken aback. "I thought you were dead…"
It was not a question, but a simple statement—she could have been mentioning the time of day for all the emotion in her voice.
Riza didn't answer. She pointed her gun at Sloth, who only raised an eyebrow.
"Fool…you already know that will do nothing." She shook her head slightly. "You really are a fool. You've come to assist Colonel Mustang?"
"Yes," was the simple reply.
A slight smile appeared on Sloth's face. "Idiot. I made the error of thinking you were dead—I will not make that mistake again. And yet, instead of fleeing when you had the chance, you choose to continue to try and aid your beleaguered colonel. What stupidity. You walk straight to your death when you could have your life."
Riza didn't blink. "No. Even if I had decided to walk away, I would not have had life. It isn't something a homunculus such as yourself could understand," she added coldly.
Sloth seemed amused. "Oh no?" She smiled. "Don't be so sure of that. You humans call it loyalty, correct? That your life should be so tightly wound around that of another…I fail to see how anyone could be so important."
Of course you don't understand, Riza thought, you're not human. Your mind doesn't work the way a human's does. You couldn't understand…
An image of Roy…
…even if you tried.
"If someone dies, humans become soagitated…I hardly see the reason or the purpose. One day you'll die anyway, correct? So why even try? Why even bother attempting to live? I am immortal…" she said quietly. "I have life. I do not need to worry about growing old or ill and wasting away. Homunculi deserve this world, for the simple reason that we will not leave it."
Riza breathed in deeply. She refused to allow Sloth to rattle her; rather, she let the words wash over her without leaving a mark. Let her talk…she doesn't understand. She isn't human. Out loud, she answered: "It's easy enough to live when you know there is no death at the end to fight against. It takes more talent to live knowing that your time is not eternal. It seems to me that you are the least deserving of anyone to have what you want."
Sloth didn't say anything for a moment, and it might look to an outside observer that she hadn't even heard what Riza had said. But, there was something, some kind of weird vibe Riza was getting, that indicated the homunculus was getting rather pissed at the moment.
"Interesting…" the creature said slowly, "how the mind of a lapdog works."
"It shouldn't come as such a surprise, to you of all people," Riza shot back. Sloth frowned, looking visibly annoyed for the first time.
"Excuse me?" she asked icily. "I'm afraid I missed the implication."
"You're guarding the prison for King Bradley even now, correct?"
"Oh…really? So…that's what you think, is it…?" Sloth inexplicably began to laugh, quietly. "You honestly believe that I am the one taking orders from Pride? Well, it's nice to know that at the very least my deception has been a successful one."
"…." Riza looked hard at her. Now what…?
"I'll explain it to you, then, and alleviate your confusion," the homunculus chuckled. Somehow, though, even when she laughed her voice still managed to sound…dead.
"I suppose it's only natural that you think Pride is in command—he is the ruler of this country. And if you were to ask him, he would certainly insist that he was the one in charge of everything. Unfortunately for him…he's wrong." She sighed. "He's far too in love with himself to be an effective ruler—after all, his name is Pride. On the outside, it may look as if he is in control, but that's only because I made it look that way. Think about it, if you can. I am always there, behind him, just as you are always behind your Colonel Mustang." Her nose wrinkled with disdain. "However, unlike you, I wasn't simply there because of foolish reasons like petty romance. I am the one who gives him his information, who carries out his plans. Because of this, I can twist them to my own will whenever I feel the need. I can choose what to tell him, and what to…shall we say…'conveniently forget.'" Her lips turned upwards in a small, but still quite smug, smirk. "And once he's gotten his information, I 'advise' him on what to do. I don't give him orders, I simply drop hints on the ground, until he has no choice but to follow them like breadcrumbs."
Riza absorbed the new information without the slightest change in facial features, but, in actuality, her mind was racing.
It's Sloth that has been pulling the strings the whole time? I have to tell the colonel…her eyes widened. The colonel! For a second, listening to Sloth's monotone voice gloss over everything, she'd almost forgotten…of course, perhaps that was the homunculus's idea all along….
The Lieutenant clicked the safety off on her gun. Sloth just sighed.
"We've been over this, haven't we?"
Yes, they had…and they would keep going over it, again and again…and…and unless something had drastically changed from the last time Riza'd tried shooting at her, she was never going to reach Roy in time…
She survived the scene in front of her with rapidly-growing frustration, trying to find something that could work in her favor. Of course she couldn't find a thing. But, hey, no one ever said fighting super-strong, super-powerful, super-immortal monsters was easy.
There was a loud crack of thunder—the storm wasn't going to hold off for much longer. Riza looked back over at Sloth, whose features were starting to disappear in the gloom. The area was all leaning buildings and cracked concrete, so there was never much sun to begin with, but what with the clouds above being as thick as they were, everything was hidden in long lengths of shadow. The only reason she could see Sloth at all was because of the single street light behind her, its light a weak attempt to fight back the dark. The lamp post was leaning, the glass cracked—obviously it was a very old street light. Its dancing flames cast weird shadows over everything….and Riza found herself staring at the light, her attention caught up in the pale illuminations, realizing that maybe; just maybe…her situation wasn't as hopeless as she'd thought.
I wonder…the older street lights were filled with oil, and that one certainly looks old enough to be one of them…
The plan was forming rapidly in her head, but…there was one giant hole that she couldn't seem to work around. Namely, she wasn't an alchemist…and in order for this little idea to work, she kinda had to be one.
It figures, she thought wryly, that in order to get inside that prison and reach the colonel, I need him out here in the first place!
"My apologies for disturbing you…you do seem rather lost in thought…" Sloth's monotone broke through the air, and Riza frowned when she saw that the homunculus had turned her arm into water again. She was probably going to go for the same trick as before, so if Riza didn't come up with something now, it was over. Somehow, she didn't think Sloth would miss her target a second time.
And then, she remembered that she still held a gun in her hands…and the giant hole in her plan was filled, more or less. It would take a lot of skill, and a lot of luck—and even then, Riza really didn't care to think about what the odds of success were. Still, it was a strategy- the only one she had- and there was no point in putting it off. She just hoped her aim was as good as it usually was…
She aimed and fired, quickly, without focusing too long on the target. (It was a special talent of hers, to be able to shoot and hit something she'd only gotten a glance at, and the trick had only been honed further by the type of whirlwind fighting that took place on the Ishbalan battlefields.) She held her breath, praying that the bullet would be true to its mark…
The bullet missed Sloth by less then an inch.
Sloth raised an eyebrow as oil leaked out of the hole in the street light the bullet had created, a black puddle forming at her feet. Riza watched a few drops hit the homunculus herself, and had to close her eyes for a second to keep her expression in check.
Interesting… Sloth, although she sure as hell didn't show it, had to admit she was rather taken aback. It would seem that Colonel Mustang's loyal first lieutenant has reached her breaking point. Was it really all that surprising, though? After all, she was only a human, and that was what humans—even the calm and collected ones—did when they did something stupid and as a result found themselves about to die—break. They lost their heads completely, cracked right down the middle. Humans really were the lowest of the low.
The lieutenant was aiming her gun at her again, and she did her best to keep her disgust at the amount of time the fool was wasting off her face. "Be careful…you don't want to miss a second time."
Riza took her time with this shot, because in order for it to do what she needed it to do, she'd have to get the exactly right angle—there wasn't any leeway this time around. "That would be hard to do," she responded calmly, "as I haven't missed a first time."
Sloth realized what was going on a second before it actually happened. Her head snapped down and she stared at the oil slick she was currently standing in the middle of. There was a bang, followed by a small whooshing noise as Riza's second shot skimmed almost gracefully along the ground. Time seemed to stand still for a moment while they both waited to see if the bullet would create sparks as it nicked the ground…
It did.
Riza nodded slightly as she saw a handful of tiny little flares created when the bullet scratched the concrete. The mini-flames plunged—to Riza, it felt like everything was happening in goddamn slow-mo—towards the homunculus, who took a step back to avoid them. She didn't quite step back far enough, however…
With a loud roar, fire burst into being. Within seconds, it was an inferno, a circle of burning oil completely surrounding Sloth. She started to simply back through the flames, but the spots of oil soaked into her shirt were set ablaze before she could get through. The homunculus found herself burning away.
Riza watched the scene, fascinated despite herself. There was something thrilling, almost mesmerizing, about the vision in front of her, about the blinding glow that was in such contrast from the dark world around it. Sloth had resorted to turning parts of herself to water to quench the orange streaking up and down her body, but the hungry flames were burning so fierce and so fast that she was evaporating as quickly as she transformed. She was encased by now in a choking cloud of steam mixed with smoke. Her right arm turned into clear water, but even water will burn when there's oil floating on top, and the liquid turned right into moisture. Again, Sloth healed herself and her right arm reappeared in its liquid state, and again it evaporated; her entire body was caught in this morbid dance.
There was a huge burning puddle at her feet; perhaps it was then, as Sloth felt the flames licking away at her, knowing that even if she turned her entire body to water, she would still drizzle away, that she began to understand that her immortality was almost up. But even now, even facing something that a few minutes ago, she had sworn she would never see…she remained expressionless.
Riza, staring at the smoldering face, realized that she had been right all along in her assumptions about Sloth. The homunculus really was dead within—there really were no feelings inside what was essentially a useless container, a covering that only served to gather dust. Sloth was empty, and not even her own death could change that…
As her body evaporated away, as her healing powers became slower and slower, as she tried to douse the oil-induced flames only to have them flare up higher, Sloth quickly accepted what was by now, only a matter of time. There was only one thing that irritated her—that damn first lieutenant who had caused all of this in the first place. She had ruined everything, and now she was going to be able to walk away from it all unscathed!
….Or…Sloth's eyes widened slightly as something caught her eye…she turned from staring at the courtyard behind her, to staring at the wary lieutenant in front of her, whose gun was still drawn, just in case…heh…maybe she wouldn't be getting away unscathed after all…
The homunculus was hard put to contain her smirk. This was too perfect…this was almost worth death…almost.
Her healing powers were almost nil by now, and she knew her time was almost up. If she had not seen what she had just spotted, then perhaps she would be angrier, yelling, trying to drag Hawkeye with her. But, no…things would work out much better if she let the lieutenant find what she was looking for. It was just a shame that she would not be there to see the wonderful reaction the idiot was guaranteed to have.
There was a small tingling sound at her feet. Sloth looked down to see a red stone sitting in an oily, burning mess, winking up at her through the smoke. She slowly lifted her arm to her face—sure enough, her healing powers had stopped altogether. As she watched, her arm faded away and did not reform…how ironic, she thought, not without bitterness, that fire should be able to conquer water.
"Aah…aahgh…"
Small cries tore from her lips as she began to really feel the full effect of the flames. The air was thick with smoke, and with droplets of water peeling from her body. Her legs were beginning to collapse into steam. She had maybe a second left, maybe two…she tried to pick the stone up again, but it fell right through her glistening hand as her fingers evaporated. So, this was really how it would end…it was so damn annoying. Even Greed had a better death then this…the memory of yanking his stone out still brought a smile to her face. He, at least, had the honor of being killed by someone worthwhile…
"…How…." She spat, though lips that were almost not there, "…very…irritating…"
And she collapsed into a steaming puddle, dead. The stone lingered for a moment longer in the flames, and then crumbled to ash.
Riza stood very still for a moment. Was that it? Was it really over? She stared at the burning patch of ground. Nothing there now but fire, but small, rapidly-evaporating puddles of water topped off with a left-over oil slick. Her plan had worked perfectly, there was no way even Sloth could have survived that…and yet, it was so hard to believe it was really true…
Since Riza Hawkeye was a well-trained, professional soldier, she was hardly the type to get really emotional about her opponents. Still…secretly, she was just a little pleased that Juliet Douglas was dead. Couldn't have happened to a more deserving person. Frankly, she wouldn't mind being able to savor the outcome of all this a bit longer.
But there was no time for personal revenge right now, so she pushed past her private thoughts and took off at a run for the prison, and for Roy.
As she took a step into the courtyard, another thunder clap went off over head, much louder now. A drop of rain hit her cheek, followed quickly by another, and another. In the space of five seconds, it was suddenly pouring.
Riza rubbed water out of her eyes and squinted, trying to get a good view of her surroundings despite the deluge. There didn't seem to be much…the prison was directly in front of her, and on either side sat old, dirty buildings. Someone had thrown out what looked like a heap of rags in the corner, their color an identical brown in the rain, dye leaking off and turning the puddles around them a cloudy purplish color. It was raining so hard, and so fast, that already, there were little streams of water flowing past her feet. The pavement here was made out of cobblestones here, not cement, and muddy water trickled down between them, emptying out into rapidly-growing puddles.
Splash!
Riza wrinkled her nose as she stepped into a deepening puddle. Less then five minutes since it had started raining, and already the ground was starting to flood. This was some storm.
She looked around again, uneasy. It seemed too quiet…where were the sounds of battle that should have been coming from inside the prison? (Hah, like anyone could survive in battle against a homunculus for over an hour. Aint truth annoying sometimes?)
She paused underneath the dim glow of another street lamp, this one slightly newer. It wasn't an oil light, but an electric—it was still in crappy shape, though, and the light flickered on and off with every gust of wind. And there were a lot of gusts of wind.
Nothing…there was nothing around but rain and wind, and Riza couldn't figure it out…was Roy still in the building? Was he still fighting?
There was a flash of lightning, and during that two second period of brightness, Riza happened to glance down at her feet, and her heart nearly stopped…
The quick glow quickly faded, and her heartbeat returned to normal. She took a deep breath, scolding herself mentally for being so jittery. How was she going to help the colonel if she couldn't keep her head?
Still, the image wouldn't leave her mind, so she looked back down to convince herself that she was just seeing things. Sure enough, the water at her feet was greasy purple—all the little streams had been contaminated by the dye running off the rag pile—just like the rest of the puddles. Honestly, it didn't say much for her if she was going to allow her imagination to run wild just like that….
The street lamp chose that moment to turn itself on. Riza felt her eyes lower themselves again, unwillingly, like she was being forced to look down. She stared. And stared. A scream built up in her throat, and it was only due to her strong self-control that it didn't escape. She stared…
The puddle she was standing in wasn't purple—none of them were. It had only looked that way because of the darkness. In the considerably brighter light coming off the street lamp, however, Riza could see quite clearly that the water was, in actuality…rusted red.
It was a muted, brownish shade, the same shade a piece of metal will turn if left in the rain. But Riza knew this wasn't rust…she knew, somehow, that it was blood…
Slowly, her eyes trailed the streams up towards their point of origin. The red was leaking from the rags in the corner….this time, however, with her eyes aided by the street light, she could make out something that she hadn't been able to see before. The rag heap was distinctly human shaped; sticking out at one end was the scratched and bruised skin of a human hand…
That was no bundle of rags.
That was Roy Mustang.
"Colonel!"
Riza was there in a flash, heart racing so quickly she felt dizzy. She sank to her knees by his side, her eyes growing huge at the gory sight before her. There was so much blood…
Hands trembling, she touched his shoulder.
"C-Colonel…? Sir?...Colonel! Colonel Mustang! Sir!!"
As gently as she could manage with her heart lodged in her throat, she turned him over. His head fell limply into her lap. Even in the semi-darkness where he lay, she could see that his face was very, very pale. His skin felt cold to the touch, his uniform was shredded across the chest, deep gashes lined his arms. His hair stuck to him with dried blood. He was soaked from head to toe in bloody water. But it was his face that scared her the most…
There was so much blood covering the left side of his face—much of it fresh—that Riza couldn't even see where the hell the actual wound was. It dripped everywhere…Riza felt moisture dampen her uniform, and knew without looking that the colonel's—her colonel's—blood was staining her too.
She searched until she found a part of her uniform that was still relatively clean; ripping it off, she turned back to Roy, determined to stop the bleeding, to clean the wound, to…to do something. Dabbing lightly at the area of his face that looked the worse—right above his left eye—she wondered why on earth the skin should feel so weird beneath her fingertips. It felt very soft, very unlike how skin usually felt—plus, fresh blood kept pooling around her fingertips, and she couldn't see where it was coming from. The cloth in her hand became soaked through with vicious scarlet almost immediately, but at least it had somewhat served its purpose—she thought she might be able to make out the injury itself now. Sure enough, by studying closely, she was able to.
This time, she wasn't able to hold in her horrified cry.
Oh my god! Oh no…oh my god!
Now that she could see the wound a bit clearer, Riza could see why the skin had felt so strange to the touch--the skin wasn't skin at all. In actuality, what Riza had been trying to clean off was what was usually underneath the skin—raw, naked flesh. The whole side of his face, from his eye down to his cheekbone, was the same way—ripped, bloody, stained sick crimson…destroyed.
Riza's throat closed. Her eyes welled up, but she didn't bother trying to hold the tears in this time around. She felt sick, sick to her stomach, to the very core of her existence. The words swirled around and around in her head—
He's dead…
She knew it as surely as she had known anything in her life. There was no way someone could survive that kind of injury. No way at all. He was dead. Her colonel, the man she had sworn to always protect—gone, lost, deceased. Wasted.
I promised I'd go after him, she reminded herself, and the effect was the same as picking open a cut with a rusted nail. I promised I'd protect him, and I promised I'd support him.
"C-Colonel…"
The misery proved to be too much, and she shook him again, despite the fact that she knew it would serve no purpose. She clutched at his inert form, and she begged him to open his eyes, and she never once thought that he would listen.
And he didn't.
"Colonel!" Riza pleaded, calm composer much destroyed, "Colonel! Colonel Mustang, sir—wake up! Please, sir! You have to wake up! You-You cannot leave your men, sir! They need you! They need you to lead them! A-And….and me…" she whispered brokenly, "I need you too…"
The tears that had been threatening finally overwhelmed, and a rough sob tore at her throat. Riza wasn't sure any more whether the water on her face was from the rain or from her crying--and what's more, she didn't care.
"Colonel…" she implored tearfully, desperately, "please open your eyes…please wake up! You can't die, not yet! There is too much you still have to do! Ohh….I'm so sorry, Colonel…I should have been there to protect you…Colonel, please, please wake up!"
There was, of course, no answer…so Riza did something that she hadn't done for many, many years. She prayed. With her eyes shut and her arms wrapped around the body of her fallen colonel, she prayed.
Don't make him suffer for my mistakes, she urged silently. Don't take him away from me so soon.
She opened her swollen eyes again. There was no sign that her fervent prayer had been answered, or even heard in the first place. There was no change in Roy, either. All there was around her was rain, wind, crimson puddles…and the corpse of the man she loved lying slumped in her arms.
Riza bit her lip to keep back the cries, pressing so hard little droplets of blood appeared, and still the sobs found their way out. Her entire body was shaking now, in her grief…she could feel the stirrings of something inside of her, something animalistic, something savage. Something she couldn't control. Something that would destroy her from the inside out…
"Colonel Mustang…Colonel…please…"-the name rushed out of her-"Roy…"
His first name felt strange, foreign, on her lips. "R-Roy…please open your eyes…please don't…don't leave me…Roy…"
The wind howled. The storm raged. Riza sat there in a pool of her colonel's blood and thought she would die.
Hughes, panting slightly, came flying into the courtyard, hair disheveled and glasses slightly askew. It had, in his personal opinion, been taking Roy way too long over here, and he'd taken off at a gallop to find out what the hell was going on. He spotted Riza huddled in a corner and hurried over.
"Hey! Hey, Hawkeye, what's—"
He skidded to a stop as his disbelieving eyes took in everything around him. Riza looked up at him, slowly. Her eyes were red, although she wasn't crying anymore. She heard Hughes's sharp intake of breath, but didn't say anything. There wasn't really anything to say.
"Roy…oh, man…" Hughes swallowed. "H-Hawkeye, is he…?"
Riza heard herself say, in a voice completely different from her own, "he's dead, sir," but didn't quite understand the words. Hughes slowly sank to his knees beside her. Like Riza, he was quick to accept things, and he didn't waste time asking her if she was sure or not. He just groaned.
"Damn it…oh, Jesus…dammit, Roy, you idiot, I told you it was a dumb idea," he mumbled to himself. "Why'd you have to….oh, god damn it!" His face dropped into his hands, and Riza wondered vaguely if he was crying. That would certainly be a rare sight, she thought dully.
But Hughes, always thinking of others, even in a situation like this, lifted his head out of his hands and turned to her. His face was pale but steady. "Riza, I'm…"
Riza wasn't sure why he was apologizing to her when he was Roy's best friend. She knew that he was expecting her to cry, but frankly, she wasn't sure why. After all, it wasn't like this was really Roy lying dead in her arms. It couldn't be. There was no way. (Having fought against it all her life, Riza failed to recognize the sickly sweet taste of denial when it bit.) The real Colonel Mustang would never go, not like this. After all, hadn't she heard him talk about the way he wanted to die a hundred times over, at least? He always said he either wanted to die in his sleep—a nice, peaceful death for a man ravaged by war—or caught in the middle of some heroic deed. He would never allow himself to be taken out this way, Riza was sure. He would never die like this, face down in a pool of his own blood. She couldn't picture him dying at all, really. The Roy Mustang she knew was brave, determined, and above all, stubborn—he would never give in. If this was really him, he was simply fooling around, and she only wished that he would open his eyes and prove it to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, who obviously didn't understand.
"Jesus…" Hughes said sadly, "Jesus. This…this is just…" His voice trailed off at the strange expression on the lieutenant's face.
"Yes sir," Riza answered without really listening. She had half a mind to slap Roy and tell him to knock it off. The joke was getting old. Besides, he had a lot of paperwork waiting for him back at Headquarters, and lying out here in the rain wouldn't get it done.
"Aw shit…" Havoc was there now too, apparently. She wasn't sure when he had shown up, but she really hoped Roy would wake up sooner rather then later. It was becoming quite tiring, being the only one there who knew his secret.
"I can't believe it," Havoc was saying now, shaking his head weakly. "I just never thought he would die, y'know? Damn…"
Riza sighed. She shook Roy, gently, of course, but enough to show him that she meant business. "Colonel Mustang, you had better waken up now." Havoc and Hughes stared at her, but she ignored them. "Colonel…"
No response. She shook her head, annoyed. "Colonel! Colonel Mustang!"
"…" Hughes bit his lip. "Riza, he's not….look…you said it yourself, remember? He's…"
Riza shook her head. "No. No." She saw the worried look Hughes shot Havoc, and felt the bottom of her stomach give way. "No. He can't be. I refuse to believe that he is…" Her eyes began to sting again. "He is not…!"
"Riza…"
Denial began to give way to stark terror. These were all new feelings for cool, calm, collected Riza Hawkeye, and she was afraid she might go mad with them. "But…Roy…the colonel…" She looked desperately at Hughes. "He…"
"I know." His voice shook slightly. "I know…"
Havoc muttered some foul curse and pulled out his cigarette lighter. He glared angrily at the polished silver, (if he flicked it now and the rain put the spark out, he could always flick again. Such a shame that trick didn't work for the Flame Alchemist, too.) and chucked it against the brick wall behind him. It hit the wall with a loud clang that echoed crazily.
Roy's sodden body was beginning to feel heavy in Riza's arms. She felt trapped—the walls were closing in—there was nowhere she could turn to for relief—
And then, she did something that, in looking back, was the dumbest, most impulsive thing she could have done. It was so pointless and pathetic, that Riza would later wish Hughes and Havoc hadn't been there, so that they wouldn't have seen her do it. She would be shocked with herself for the rest of her life, that she had actually done something so unlike her in every way. But here and now, sitting in the pouring rain, she didn't have the foresight to reason herself out of doing it, and so she went through with this stupid, stupid little idea of hers.
She leaned down, and lightly, very lightly, brushed her lips against Roy's blood smeared forehead…
"Roy," she whispered, "Roy…you have to wake up…because I…I need you to….because I don't know what I'll do if you don't…"
It was the closest she could come to saying that she loved him.
Hughes and Havoc were silent beside her as she straightened up, eyes still trained on Roy, and waited.
And….
And absolutely nothing happened.
Of course. Riza was too miserable to know that she shouldn't have been surprised. Of course. What had she expected? Had she really, honestly thought that Roy would just magically open his eyes and grin at her simply because she kissed him? Did she really think that her sad little profession of love—far too little, far too late—would change anything, ever? Looks like she'd read one too many of those crappy romance novels she liked so much—that was the kind of ending she seemed to have been hoping for. Which was dumb, obviously, because those kinds of happy-ever-after endings happened in books, not in real life. Sloth had been right. What a sad little fool she was.
"Come on, Riza…" Hughes said softly. "Come on, let's just…" He didn't know what to say. He didn't have a clue.
Riza ignored him, and jerked away from the human contact when he tried to pull her away from the body. Her mine was made up. She had failed her colonel here on earth, but maybe God would give her a second chance in heaven. Surely even there, a man like Roy Mustang needed a bodyguard. He was awfully prone to getting himself into trouble, after all.
I promised I'd always protect you, she thought fiercely, and I will. No matter what I have to do, Roy, I will protect you. Always.
Hughes tried to get her to stand up again, but she resisted, resting her head against the colonel's chest. Didn't he understand? She didn't want to get up, not now, not ever. She didn't want to move on. She simply wanted to lie there, the rain drifting against her face, with her head alongside Roy, feeling the slight, soothing motion of his chest slowly moving up and down against her cheek…
……
Wait….
Uh.
…Since when did dead bodies breathe?
Her head jerked up so fast it was surprising she didn't get whiplash. She stared at Roy in shock for a moment or two, trying to register everything. Her fingers flew into action, fumbling for his wrist. She pressed two fingers against the pale underside of his arm, and waited with bated breath…for a second, she couldn't feel a thing….but then…
A pulse. Faint, weak, and haphazard….but a pulse none the less.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" He looked up at her in surprise. "Call an ambulance! Hurry!"
"But..." He stared at her, confused. "Hawkeye, why would-?"
"The colonel's still alive!"
"Are you serious??"
"Lieutenant Colonel, please, we don't have time. We need to get him to a hospital now!"
"Oh--! Of course!" Hughes jumped up. "Havoc!" he barked. "Get in touch with Fury and tell him to send an ambulance pronto!"
"Yes sir!"
"Ok, ok…" Maes's mind was racing, leaping from one thing to the next like an acrobat. "Ok…someone'll have to see if Pride's still alive-if he isn't, then we'll have to prepare for some major changes in the near future--better be careful about Mustang, though, he'd be a sitting duck in a hospital bed--we should get him outta the rain, Riza."
Riza nodded, but turned down the lieutenant colonel's offer to take him into one of the buildings. "I can carry him, sir."
She slowly and carefully adjusted Roy so that she'd have a better grip on him. As if he was trying to reassure everyone that he really was still alive, he moaned softly.
"It's ok…" Riza murmured softly, trying to comfort him. "I'm here, Colonel…I'm here…"
And, although it shouldn't have been possible for an unconscious Roy to hear her, maybe—somehow—he did, because he stopped fidgeting, lying still in her arms. Riza suppressed a small smile, her face taking on a determined air.
It's ok, Colonel…Roy…I'm right here. I won't leave you. I'll protect you…
And this time, she swore, it was a promise she was going to keep.
AN- whee! finally, some happiness! an i hadja all worried, didnt i?will it last? eh, who knows!XD heh. one thing about Sloth--to me, it always seemed like she was the one who should be in charge, not Pride--dunno why. so whether that's actually right or not, i just felt it fit. many apologes for the typical 'bad-guy-take-over-the-world-plan-rant' she goes into, but like i said, writer's block equals GR! ahem. i debated over Riza just coming right out with the i love yous, but decided that was too ooc for her. she still is pretty off, i guess, but hey. tramatic situations make people act diffrently...right? right. works for me, anyway. XD
darkfire19- well, she wasnt actually dead, so you dont have to accept that! hee..
unexpectation- aaah! you ARE my stalker, memory loss and all! lol, just kiddin! thanks 4 the review, as always!
Princess Krystal01- aah, sorry! but, hey, everything worked out, right?
flOofymikO- kyaa...saying thank you wouldnt even BEGIN to cover it! but, bleh, this fic aint perfict! the earlier chapter make me twinge they're so bad. and this last chapter didnt come out at ALL as i'd planned it. besides, your story isamazing! the writing style's unique and the humor side to it isnt something i'm exactly capable of myself.