AN:

Prompt: "Trust is an art. Trust is not a feeling; it's a choice. Trust as much as you love." (A priest in our school once said this and I knew I had to do something about it lol)

Also, fair warning since this is an AU, Scar remains as the bad guy here. Though I really love Scar's character development in the series, I couldn't fit it in this little universe of mine.

Hope you enjoy!

Double-edged Sword

"Higher," coached Riza, eyeing the two boys as they each punched makeshift workout dummies. "Ed, try to hit the mark with each swing. Al, try swinging your arm faster."

"Good," she praised after a few minutes as the boys sat down on the grass to take a break. "We can start on kicking basics tomorrow."

"Aww, can't we do that today?" asked Al, chest heaving up and down from exertion.

She smiled down at him and petted his sweaty hair. "It's not good to do things in excess."

"Isn't that being mediocre?" questioned Ed.

His question made her pause, as they usually do. "It's a fine line between mediocrity and taking care of yourself," she eventually said, knowing from experience how the desire to not be mediocre could cause a trade-off of one's self. She decided she didn't want them chasing perfection at all, especially when the concept of perfection was an unnecessary burden on society.

The next day, Riza woke to the two boys already doing drills in the backyard. It was good they were invested in their lessons, but she struggled to find a way to instill a balance in them. They really did remind her of Roy with their one-track mind and constant desire to be better than their last attempt.

"Good morning," she greeted them as she stepped out the door.

"Good morning!"

"Morning."

"Come here," she beckoned, and silently patted herself in the back when they obeyed her instantly. As much as she struggled to find ways to teach them about life, she must be doing something right for them to instantly obey her in simple requests.

When the boys stood in front of her, she took a seat on the patio floor. She always did prefer talking to them at eye level. "What time did you start punching and kicking?"

"6 am," said Ed proudly, his nose high in the air.

"Around 6:10?" said Al, head hung low.

"Do you think you perfected your techniques, given how early you started?" she asked them.

Both boys shook their heads and Ed said, "Everyone needs more time to perfect something."

"Do you believe in it?" she eyed Ed. "Perfection, I mean." The boys were really giving her a run for her money here. She didn't want to suppress their drive to be the best, but she also didn't want them running themselves to the ground like Roy did in his early apprenticeship days under her father.

"No, but we can always strive to be as close as possible," the older Elric boy said after visibly contemplating his answer.

Riza ran her hands through the boys' heads. "Do you know what will get you there?"

"Practice," huffed Ed. Duh.

She shook her head. "Trust. I'm teaching you self-defense." She looked at Ed, then Al. "Self-defense is an art, and…" her hands dropped to hold their shoulders. "Trust is an art more than a science."

She nudged their shoulders forward so both boys turned around to look at the backyard and the training dummies. "Trust that you will hit the target, and trust that you will not be hit. Sometimes there is no calculation involved, just the heart."

Riza stood and dusted herself off. Trust me, she thought, then decided against saying it. Instead, she said, "Trust each other. You can practice as early as you can everyday but if there is even a single inch of doubt, you're always going to think that you're not good enough and you can't hit the targets properly."

/-/

"State alchemists don't deserve to be treated like the children of god himself! Much less procreate more alchemists!" shouted Scar, the rain crashing down heavily against them. In his arm, at the crook of his elbow, was a struggling Ed bound by the arms and legs, his mouth taped over.

Roy grit his teeth as he fired a gun up at the sky. "That's enough!" he barked, cursing Central Elementary School's crappy security. How could they let someone like Scar in the school grounds?

"General Mustang," acknowledged Scar.

"You know who I am and still decide to take the boy?" He tightened his gloves around his wrists and tossed the gun behind him, knowing his wife would catch it without a problem.

"Tch. Head State Alchemist." He failed to get into the program because of this man's lack of approval, among others.

Riza looked at Scar, the gun Roy tossed resting in her hand, and contemplated about shooting him. Suddenly doubt in her own abilities came rushing forward when she gazed at Ed. What if I miss and hit Ed?

In her internal debate, she failed to notice her commanding officer getting cocky and sauntering nearer to the enemy.

"Correct. I am the Head State Alchemist, Roy Mustang." He showed his glove, the array imprinted thereon.

"Another one of those responsible for my current non-State Alchemist status." He dropped his hold of Ed, the boy landing on the ground with a thud.

When Ed's sloshing against pavement and rain brought Riza back to the present, she tried to get her husband's attention. "General!" It's raining.

"This only proves you aren't worthy of the title, Scar," said Mustang, walking further toward the enemy, his hand poised to snap. This man kidnapped, gagged, bound, and even dropped Ed! There's going to be hell to pay.

"General!" she tried again, but Scar already pounced to attack.

Shit. Acting on instinct, Riza ran and dropped to kick Roy's legs from beneath him just as Scar's hand closed in on his face. He crashed with a large yelp, but she couldn't stop to check if she injured him. Better injured than dead.

"What was that for, Hawkeye?!" he demanded.

She drew one of her guns with her free hand, and started a round of successive shots against Scar. "You - know - full well - you're - useless - on rainy - days, sir," she said in between shots.

The enemy was surprisingly quicker than Hawkeye could shoot the two guns in her hands. Scar managed to punch her in the face, effectively knocking her down to the ground, and started to inch his hand toward her face.

"Ri-!"

She gasped at the sound of Roy's voice and evaded as quickly as she could just as Roy's fist connected with Scar's jaw. She flicked her damp bangs away from her face, scrambled to gather a weapon in her grasp, and returned to shooting at the man; finally grazing him in the arm, then lodging a bullet dead into both of his legs, completely incapacitating him.

Ed's eyes widened at the events unfolding before him. His adoptive mother almost died for Roy. What the heck? Why was she willing to risk her life like that?

Mustang and his men apprehended Scar and started to make arrangements for medics and arresting officers as the skies began to clear of rain.

Riza ignored the buzz around her, holstering both weapons in her person, and ran to Ed. She clumsily untied the boy and ripped the tape from his mouth, much to both their chagrin. She patted him all over his body, checking for injuries, not unlike the first time he came home bruised up due to Al's bully. She sighed in relief and sat on the ground, her hands on Ed's shoulders. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

The boy glared at her. "You tell me." Her left eye was already swelling from where Scar punched her.

She shook her head with a small smile, shrugging her jacket off and wrapping it around Ed. That snark was her indication he was fine. "I've had worse." She was grateful for the sun shining through the clouds once more, at least the boy would dry quicker that way.

"Thanks for the save," said Roy, approaching his wife from behind.

She smirked as she stood. "Thanks for the save," she echoed back. Though he let her first name slip out while on the job, she trusted whatever he cued her in for and that saved her neck.

Ed looked up at the two adults. Riza once told them that trust was an art, but he realized it was more than that upon seeing Roy and Riza's dynamic. Trust isn't a feeling; it's a choice.

His adoptive mother trusted his semi-useless adoptive father and vice versa so much, it didn't matter what the situation called for - he had her back as much as she was willing to die for his.

/-/

Around a month after Ed got kidnapped and their adoptive parents almost died trying to protect him and each other; Al found himself wandering off to the roof, be it in school or at home, more often. He had a new apprehension about staying on the ground since that's how his brother got kidnapped in the first place.

He looked down at the schoolyard and saw from the distance his pop's bright blue uniform sticking out like a sore thumb among the throngs of other parents who wore pastel colors or dark suits. Ed was out on a school trip, but that didn't explain why his mom wasn't the one to pick him up. Nonetheless, the boy rushed down to the schoolyard to meet his pop halfway.

"Pop!" Al jumped into Roy's arms, excited that he was the one to pick him up from school today.

"Hey, kiddo." Roy set the child down on the ground, his expression grim as they walked toward his car.

"Where's mom?"

Roy momentarily paused in the act of buckling his seatbelt. "We're going to pick her up."

They stopped in front of the hospital lobby where a bruised up Riza, nearly half of her face was wrapped in bandages, with a sling on her left arm stood waiting. Al rushed out the car, lip trembling and tears threatening to burst at the sight of her. "Mom?"

She bent at the waist, smiling down at Al. "Hi." She placed her uninjured hand on his head then guided him back to the car.

"Who hurt you?" asked the boy from the backseat halfway through the silent trip home.

"Some bad guys trying to hurt pop."

Roy parked the car with more force than usual and stormed out. He was still mad at Riza for using herself as a human shield for him. If he was being honest though, he was more mad at himself for not having faster reflexes. Again.

Al helped Riza to the couch as she asked.

She sighed in relief when her back hit the cushions. "Will you be alright for a few hours, Al? I need to rest." The painkillers they dosed her with was going to knock her out soon.

The boy nodded, then headed to the backyard where Roy was to inform him. "Pop? Mom's gonna rest for awhile." Al waited for a response, but none came. He stared at his pop's hunched back, sitting on the floor with his face in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. "Pop?" prodded Al. Was he sick too? He walked over to him then rubbed his small hand against Roy's back, like what Riza did when they were sick.

Roy jolted at the touch, twisting his head to look at the boy. "What's up?"

"Are you sick too?"

"Uhh, no."

"Mom's gonna rest for awhile," he repeated after realizing his pop didn't hear him.

Roy swallowed the lump in his throat. "Right." He shakily rose to his feet. He should be the one to cook dinner tonight. He paused when he re-entered their home and saw Riza on the couch, her slinged arm over her torso, black shirt tucked out of her military pants. Since their kitchen was adjacent to the living room, he couldn't start dinner without rousing her. With a dejected sigh, he quietly climbed the stairs and went into their bedroom to change out of his uniform.

He didn't realize Al followed him there until he was in the middle of shoving his legs into his pajama pants. "Sh -" He caught himself. "Al."

"Why do bad guys always want to hurt you?" He remembered Ed telling him about how pop almost got killed by the Scar guy, and he recalled his conversation with Riza back in his first visit to the shooting range. He asked her if Roy's dream was worth it for his adoptive mom to get hurt in his behalf, and she told him to ask pop instead.

"Umm." He sat down on their bed, pulling down the edges of his shirt so he was fully covered. "Come here." He patted the space beside him. Al climbed up and sat as he was told. "I chase after bad guys, so they want to hurt me."

The child furrowed his brows. "Because bad guys want to hurt good guys?" He's heard all the stories about how the bad guys fight the good guys, and good always wins.

Roy nodded. That's one way to put it.

"What's your dream?"

"Huh?"

He straightened his back and looked at Roy dead in the eye. "Why does mom get hurt for it? For your dream?"

He blinked. Oh. "I want to change the country, in the long run I think it will be for the greater good." He figured that was the most bare-bone explanation. "Riza, she… she wants to make sure I get there." Even at the cost of her own self.

"For a better country," mumbled the boy. "Mom loves you." That's why she was following pop. Riza never said she wanted to change the country, she just wants Roy to be safe.

"And I love her," said Roy, his jaw tight.

Al saw the look of resolve on his pop's face, they were like the flames from his alchemy. Mom once told him and Ed to trust each other, and Ed told him that trust was a choice. Trust is a choice, sure, but you should also trust as much as you love. The only reason why his adoptive parents were surviving amidst everything was because they had each other. Trust brother… trust mom and pop.

AN: I do plan on sticking through with this. Life is just busy right now, but if there's anything that makes me sad: it's a dropped fic.

So, anyway, this is chapter 5 out of 23 guaranteed chapters, you lovely people. 'Til next time! Sending love to you all!