Whumptober 2020 Day 8: Where Did Everybody Go?—"Don't Say Goodbye"/Abandoned/Isolation
Word Count: 560
Author: Katie/Ally (aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl)
Rating: T
Characters: Riza Hawkeye
Summary: With her team gone and her every move being watched, how can she help but feel isolated?
Notes: I always felt this had to be especially psychologically hard on Riza.

Isolation

A major theme in her life, Riza reflected, was isolation. Even in her earliest memories, which were more feelings and concepts then firm memories, when her mother was alive, and her father must have loved her, there was a feeling of them being alone. Her childhood had only reinforced that, living in a lonely house with no one but a father who didn't love her for company. She was outcast from the other children as well, and few of the adults bothered with her. Being a sniper had been an isolating thing as well. Snipers were known for being lone wolves on the battlefield, and her own coldness—coldness that she had wrapped around herself just in order to survive—had not helped that reputation. Few had reached out to her. On top of that were the layers of secrecy that her life was wrapped up in, and they often left her feeling isolated from those around her.

But she hadn't experienced this level of isolation in a long time.

To an outside observer, everything was fine. She had gotten a promotion. She was no longer a babysitter to a womanizing colonel. Her team, obviously, had done something that had put them out of the graces of the administration, but the current rumor was that it was to punish Mustang, which wasn't entirely false.

But it was hard.

It had been hard enough, in the beginning. She hadn't realized how much she had come to rely on her team until they were gone. She longed to see Havoc's easy smile, quick with humor, to hear Breda's gruff remarks that underscored how much he cared about the team, to receive a small act of kindness from Fuery in the morning, to exchange looks with Falman when they were the only two being reasonable in the office, to watch Mustang as he took it all with a playful smirk on his lips. She longed for the camaraderie that they had developed, that drove away the loneliness and pierced the isolation she so often felt. But she had rested in the knowledge that there were, at least, secretive ways she could still communicate with her team, and to be around Roy.

And then Pride had come.

That one comfort was gone as soon as he revealed himself. She knew she was, or at least had the potential to be, observed every moment of every day. Every work, every movement, every action could be observed. Even in her own home, any moment of weakness could be seen and twisted to be used against her or the ones that she cared about. She couldn't risk talking to anyone. She couldn't express how she felt when she was alone. She couldn't give in to her emotions without great risk. She couldn't do anything that would give anything away to the enemy. She had no way to directly confide in anyone.

And it made her feel so very alone.

Isolation was returning to her life again. It was wrapping itself around her, cutting her off from the outside world. It was like she was cocooned, once again, in a suffocating blanket of it, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Nothing, that was, except continue on, alone, isolated, until the moment came for her to move.

And when that time came—she would be ready.