In no way, shape or form do I take credit for creation or ownership of the Hagane no Renkinjutsushi (Fullmetal Alchemist) series. The original manga is the property of Hiromu Arakawa and the anime is the property of Bones animation studio.
Of their own volition, Riza's feet carried her along the paths that led to the abandoned city beneath central that Sheska had led her to months ago when she had helped young Alphonse Elric in his search for Edward for a short stint of time; the dilapidated buildings eerily familiar to her after the one-time visit, like a vague sense of déjà-vu or stepping into a dream from long ago, the memories fuzzy and not very clear. Any sight of the flying monstrosity was gone, but up ahead in the distance, she could see a bright glow. It looked like alchemy, but not like any she had ever seen, for it was too bright, too expansive, too… something. She couldn't place it, but it was just… different. More massive, more potent, just… More.
Knowing intrinsically that Roy would be there, she pelted through the ruined streets toward the light, jumping piles of rubble and climbing over felled walls and crumbling streets in her efforts to reach the blinding light as it was dying down. Sprinting the last yards into and through the large open plaza, she watched with ice in her veins as she saw a figure in blue fall to his knees, the coppery scent of blood stinging her nose as he coughed and hacked, red spraying the ground with each forced discharge of breath.
"Taisa!" She called, running to his side and falling to her knees to take hold of him. Another convulsion racked his body as she clutched his shoulders, trying to steady him. "Taisa," she said again with conviction, her hands pulling him up from the ground as she began to wipe at the crimson staining his chin with the side of her sleeve. He looked at her wearily out of his good eye, letting out a few more, smaller, blood-free coughs and grunts before his breathing settled into a scratchy wheeze.
"It's done," Roy rasped out quietly, glancing at the scorched ground where the faint imprint of an alchemic transmutation circle could be seen beneath the thick tendrils of smoke rising from the ground. "The gate, it's closed," he mumbled, slumping against Riza.
"Taisa. Oh Roy," Riza whispered into his hair as she held him, letting his head rest against her chest as he tried to regain his breath, his inhalations and exhalations slowly becoming more normal as he rested against her, her fingers gently stroking his messy ebony locks. She didn't fully understand what he was talking about, but it obviously had something to do with everything that had happened today and she knew that in time, he would tell her everything. For the moment, it was enough that he was alive and that she could be there, watching over him where she belonged. He was sweaty and bloody and exhausted, but he was in her arms and that's what counted.
"It's been a while," he mumbled into her breasts as he spoke, "since I've done any alchemy before today, and here I go doing the biggest thing I've ever done in my life." His voice was already recovering, sounding much more human with each passing minute. Shifting in Riza's arms, Roy turned his head such that his cheek was resting against the soft rise of her chest, his ear picking up the steady beat of her heart as she continued to support him.
"Well, Taisa," Riza began with a sigh, "you've always been one to make a scene, to go out with a bang, to ignore warnings, to forgo regulations when it suits you, to do more than you should, to be-"
"I think I get your point, Hawkeye," Roy said with a wan chuckle, cutting her off midway through her listing of his usual "I'm indestructible at all times, even if my subordinate calls me useless in the rain, and I can do anything and everything I want" behaviors.
Shifting her weight so that she was sitting instead of kneeling, Riza adjusted Roy's limp body, lifting his head to her shoulder to take the strain off his neck, trying to accommodate his taller height as best she could. "I'm just glad that you're alright, Taisa."
"Aa," Roy agreed, letting his good eye drift shut with the intent of resting for a few moments.
"You are going to be alright, aren't you, Taisa?" Riza asked, her voice betraying none of her concern, as usual. The sleepy nod against her neck assured her somewhat, along with the contented sigh that followed as Roy made himself comfortable, slowly slipping asleep as he let his weight settle more fully against Riza.
Glancing down at him as he slept, Riza found herself hard-pressed to not think about the last time that she had seen him, in the days and weeks following Edward's disappearance and their own fateful attack on the Führer. He'd needed her then as he did right now, his over-exerted and injured body straining to repair the damage wrought upon it. In those days, following her admittance of failure and his subsequent rebuttal that she was not to blame, they'd been closer than ever before in all their years together. The pair of them and Black Hayate had been almost like a small little family, and she secretly had enjoyed and treasured their days together. It reminded her of their shared childhood, so many years ago.
In those few short weeks of his recovery, she'd remained constantly by his side, assisting him however she could and making sure he continued to use his cane while he still needed it, despite his pride. Originally, she'd remained at his bedside, helping him first with menial tasks and later with sitting up and standing on his own, then after that she continued to stand by him as he had to rebuild the strength in his legs and had to get used to having only one eye. The days of effort and strain had stretched on and on, but he was soon up and about, at first with Riza supporting him while he used his cane, until he slowly built up the strength and self-reliance to not need either. By the time she realized he was becoming distant and withdrawn, it was too late.
Shortly after he had recovered, he'd disappeared to the border, taking Riza's heart with him. The following two years had been like a blur, where she was merely existing and functioning, playing the part of dedicated soldier and longing to see his self-assured smirk and proud features, even if it was to see him whining about paperwork. On a few occasions, Havoc and the other men had expressed their concern for her, each time earning them a curt reply and the click of her safety being removed on her pistol. Eventually, they gave up on trying to talk to her about Roy. Every so often, Havoc would get that look in his eyes that he was going to bring the subject up, but casting once look at Riza and her pistols resting in their holsters and he would think better of it and get back to work, but not before letting out a deep, defeated sigh.
In fact, after the first few months, the only person that even mentioned him to her anymore was Gracia Hughes. Sweet, quiet, widowed Gracia, who understood more than anyone, save possibly young Winry Rockbell, what she was going through. Many nights, she would spend the evening with the Hughes women, watching young Elysia grow during those two years into a beautiful young girl that would have made Maes even more proud than he'd already been. Rarely would Gracia bring up her deceased husband's best friend, but the few times she had, she and Riza had spent most of the night talking about him, painful nights where she spilled to Gracia secrets of her heart that she had never voiced to anyone before and the details of her long past with her former commanding officer.
It was during one of those nights that she'd finally confessed to Gracia the true depths of her devotion and love for the man currently dozing upon her, leading up to the second time in her adult life she'd ever cried over Roy Mustang, the first of course being the night of their attack on King Bradley when she had discovered his broken and dying body lying on the steps of the Führer's mansion.
Pushing the depressing thoughts to the back of her mind for the moment, Riza looked down again at the man in her arms. He was still as strikingly handsome as he had always been, the patch covering his scarred and useless eye matching his black hair and eyes more than taking away from his fine features. It was so refreshing to have him near her once again, after two years of separation. Long years of her life had now been devoted solely to this man, her presence ever two steps behind him as he traveled down his life's path, always ready at a moment's notice to defend him, to fight for him, to kill for him if necessary. She could not bear to lose him again.