Warning: Brief mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Edward Elric had been dead for three months.

Roy Mustang sat on the edge of the bridge, considering the revolver in his hands. It felt foreign in his grip, the way a gunman might regard a sword suddenly thrust upon him. Roy was used to wielding fire instead of firearms.

He had thought about what had happened, of course. He still thought about it, even though it had been three months. The weight of his guilt pulled at him every waking hour, and haunted him in his sleep. Some days Roy didn't even get out of bed.

This was a better day. If one could call cradling a revolver on the edge of a bridge while contemplating a sudden end to his life "better."

He glanced down, past the gun and into the rolling river below. The Longwaters River flowed through East City and on into Angren, where Roy had been spending a lot of time these days. He stared down south, squinting at the way the late day sun reflected off the water like million glass shards. A few hundred kilometers in that direction led to Resembool.

Roy didn't want to think about Resembool at the moment.

They had been on a bridge very much like this one. They were walking, Ed by his side and Hawkeye behind him. Ed stopped suddenly, golden eyes widening in surprise as scarlet fluid burst from his neck. The bullet went straight through, lodging itself in Roy's chest cavity. Roy had no strength to reach out and grab the boy's extended hand before his body tumbled off the bridge and down into the water below.

Roy shut his eyes. He didn't want to think about Ed, either.

"Sir."

Roy flinched at the sudden greeting, the hand without a gun raising instinctively to snap. But no glove covered his pale hand, and no spark flashed between his fingertips.

His eyes rose to meet Riza's. She stood on the narrow footbridge, dressed in civvies with a paper bag of groceries balanced on one hip. Several months ago, he might have commented on how lovely and very domestic she looked in her stylish black trousers and delicate-looking green blouse. But recent events, the stern look in her eyes and the sidearm she clutched in her free hand forestalled any attempt he might have made to flirt, no matter how half-heartedly. "Sir, it isn't safe for you to be out in the open like this."

He offered her a thin smile, folding one leg under him and grabbing on to the railing with his free hand. "I thought you said the sunshine would be good for me," he countered, hoisting himself to his feet, careful to keep his weight mostly on his right. His left leg still wouldn't take much.

Riza had removed two bullets from his body, but Roy had taken three hits. One went through his l thigh, one was halted by his hip bone, and the other—the kill shot—stopped just a few inches below his collar bone.

If Ed's neck hadn't been there, it likely would have been in his heart. And Roy wished more than anything that Ed's neck hadn't been there.

Riza holstered her weapon under her jacket at the small of her back and grabbed his cane from its place against the railing. "It would if you don't get shot." He tried not to wince at the thought. She offered it to him and he gratefully accepted, releasing the railing and transferring his weight onto the stick.

"Thanks," he said, holstering his own revolver at his side, hidden safely under his own coat. He noticed her eyes lingering on it in a careful sort of way until it was out of sight. "Anything to report?"

She shook her head. "No. The town is quiet. No sign of military personnel anywhere."

"Did you get it?"

Riza sighed and reached into her paper bag, pulling out a wrapped paper parcel, presumably bacon fresh from the butcher shop. "Not that this is in any way healthy."

Roy's smile was a little more genuine this time. It was easier to not succumb to his depressive thoughts when she was near. "Come on, Riza. If the bullets didn't get me, I doubt a little bacon will."

"Your body is still recovering. You need proper nutrition to heal."

"Humor me."

Riza frowned, but didn't comment further. It was no secret that Roy's appetite hadn't been what it should be. All the previous batches of bacon had been thrown out less than half eaten, but Roy kept requesting it and Riza kept buying it and berating him, despite knowing he hardly ate it. He didn't even know why they did it. Riza wasn't one to delude herself. Roy supposed it had become a sort of pathetic game where they pretended something was normal while the rest of their lives fell apart around them.

"We should get back," she said, eyes scanning the surrounding trees, her caution returning. She had always been the careful one, but since the incident, she had become almost paranoid. Roy was certain that his behavior hadn't helped anything, either. He hadn't exactly been the most supportive and reliable as of late.

Roy nodded, taking a few hobbling steps forward. He felt her concerned eyes on him, but did his best to ignore it. The old boards creaked under his shuffling steps as he made his slow way off the bridge and onto solid ground. "How long has it been, Riza?"

"This is our ninth day in Angren."

"Feels like a month," Roy said absently. They'd never stayed anywhere for more than a week since his recovery. "I meant, how long have we been on the run?"

Riza slowed her steps to walk beside him. "From the time of the incident, almost three months."

The "incident" had given him his generous limp, a hundred nightmares and taken Edward Elric from this world.

It had been a completely routine inspection. There was no reason to have been concerned. There had hardly been a reason to have two alchemists on board, except that Edward had just gotten back from another mission that ended in complete disaster. Edward had entirely demolished a government building, offended three foreign officials, and had earned himself a lifetime ban from the city of Parteros. Roy decided that the brat needed a lesson in diplomacy and had taken him along with Hawkeye for instruction. Alphonse had been left behind because Roy wanted to witness Ed's lack of restraint for himself without Al's interference. The boy had to learn to control himself without his little brother, and Roy intended to assist him.

All Roy had assisted him in doing was taking a bullet.

A bullet meant for Roy's heart.

Roy didn't remember much after the fact. Riza told him that he hadn't been responsive for much of the time afterward. She had somehow managed to drag his useless body into the brush and hide them for almost eight hours while the small team of men in Amestrian uniform that had fired on them searched the forest. Then, under the cover of night, she found an abandoned shack and makeshift supplies, dug two bullets out of his body and wrapped his wounds, all while listening to his feverish babbling about Ed needing help. Riza Hawkeye managed to keep a cool head while watching a child die, then caring for her gravely injured commanding officer while he acted like a complete lunatic.

She was the strongest person he knew. These past months had not been his proudest moments, but she had stayed. It would have been far safer for her if they had split up. She could have disappeared easily on her own, but he was both recognizable and injured. Still, she insisted it was her duty. He hadn't even asked.

"We'll need to keep moving soon, Sir," she said as they walked down the dirt path. A cold wind suddenly picked up, throwing dust at their backs.

"It will be a shame. I really like this house," Roy said with a sigh. Truthfully, the thought of walking to the next town made his leg cramp up in dread. He certainly didn't have the stamina he used to.

"Sir, you transmuted it. You can make another like it."

"Don't you find that a tad suspicious? Identical-looking houses, one town after the next?"

"You're right. I suppose you'll have to just tear yourself away from it."

The town of Angren was sparsely populated, and mostly by country folk. Their presence had been noted, but with the town so far off the beaten path, the danger of discovery by the military was slim. The only military presence was a lone elderly gentleman with whiskers long enough to sweep a floor and the eyesight of a bat that "guarded" the outpost between his naps. It was as safe as any place, but Riza was probably right. It was time to move on.

Roy's eyes wondered to the cluster of buildings below them. The country around them was predominantly hills and forest, and the town, gathered mostly in the valley below, was spread out along the meadow. The house that Roy had constructed was far enough away that they could see trouble coming from the village, but close enough to get him his bacon supply.

"I don't suppose there was anything from Hughes?" Roy asked, navigating his way around a sizable rut in the road.

Their only communication with anyone from home were adds posted in The Central Times. Hughes kept them updated on the manhunt via discreet messages shared in the classifieds. The last they had heard from him was over a week ago. Alphonse was still missing. The military was still actively searching for Roy and Riza under the guise of finding a pair of MIA soldiers, but there was more to it. Someone wanted Roy dead, and they were high enough up in the military to get away with it.

Roy didn't know if Ed was supposed to die in that process, but he supposed it didn't really make much difference at this point.

"The Central Times doesn't run in Angren but twice a week, sir. You know that," she chastised lightly. "I'll pick up a paper tomorrow."

The small knoll Roy had constructed their "house" on was just steep enough to give him plenty of trouble. He more or less dragged his useless limb through the grass, Riza watching him struggle but having the decency to not say anything or offer help. He had suffered enough humiliation these past three months to last him a lifetime.

Roy made it to the summit, panting at the pain and exertion, his free hand moving to grasp at his hip. The muscle there would cramp often, probably from all of the scar tissue and perhaps bone fragments left in the bullet's wake. He tried to steady his breathing, inhaling deeply, the way Riza told him to whenever the pain threatened to steal his breath away.

"Sir?"

Roy opened eyes he didn't remember closing. "Hmm?"

She stared at him with thinly-veiled concern. "It's better to take a break occasionally than to push too hard."

He tried to give her a smile, but judging by her stern expression, it probably came across as a grimace. "I'm fine. Just need to catch my breath."

She wasn't at all convinced, but she didn't respond. Instead, she scanned their surroundings with a sharp eye.

The house was a simple construct of wood and not much else. Roy was thankful for the unseasonably warm spring they had been having, because his craftsmanship was nothing to write home about. The planks were ill-fitting and uneven. Drafts cut through the two roomed house like blades, and despite Riza's best efforts to make the hovel seem like a home, any visitor could tell that the place was lacking in both charm and comfort. Riza had even been gifted a flowerpot by an old woman in the village with a few wilting daisies in it. She had placed it on the front porch in an attempt to brighten the ramshackle construct, but the cold nights were quickly doing the plants in, too. There was nothing about the house that didn't scream "dilapidated."

But Riza's gaze didn't stop on the house. It rested on the line of trees just behind it. She only stared for a moment though before she looked away, back the way they had come. "We have a problem, Sir."

A cold sensation settled in Roy's gut like a coiling snake. He couldn't say that he particularly cared if he died at the moment, but Riza being in danger was another matter entirely, and a dormant protective instinct stirred. "Oh?"

"One unidentified persons visible, likely male. Can't make out much else."

Roy leaned over his cane as if to further catch his breath, eyes wondering over the forest brush. He saw nothing. She really did have a hawk's eyes.

"I don't suppose you believe him to be friendly?" Roy asked.

She looked unimpressed. "As friendly as anyone hiding in the shadows ever is, I suppose."

He grunted. Fair enough.

Even while Roy hadn't been interested in living, much less escaping from threats, Riza had still planned for events like these and kept her head about her. She rifled through her sack and removed a couple of things before replacing them, pretending to look for something and not find it. "We'll head back into town and leave from there. Alous isn't too far away."

Alous was at least a two day's hike to the east and Roy dreaded it. The trains were not too reliable this far from Central, and though the security wasn't something they wanted to deal with anyway, they didn't have time to wait for one. They needed to get out of town as soon as possible.

Roy nodded, turning to start back to town the way they had come.

He stopped when he saw the man standing in their path.

Riza stopped too, her fingers twitching toward her gun before she firmly wrapped them around her grocery sack.

"Good evening," Roy greeted as smoothly as he knew how. Ed had always said that he could charm a wet cat. Roy had teased him relentlessly about his hick country sayings, but the memory now left him hollow. Roy turned his attention back to what was in front of him, where it should have been. Focusing was sometimes more difficult in the wake of the incident.

The stranger was a man around his late thirties with auburn hair hidden mostly under his cap. He was slight of build, something that would be considered odd among a soldier, if he were military. His slight eyes were dark, like coffee, and his nose looked like it had been broken once or twice from the crooked way it sat on his narrow face.

"Good evening," he replied in a low baritone voice, a broad smile on his thin lips. Wind ruffled his visible hair. "Lovely night for a stroll, isn't it?"

Roy made a show of glancing at the sky. The sun was just dipping below the hills in the west, the sky turning from blue to a dusky purple color. Night was approaching fast. Clouds were stacking one on top of the other off to the northeast, lightening flashing in their depths. It was too far away to hear the thunder, but if the wind were any judge, it would be upon them in less than an hour. Some sort of backdoor cold front coming through? It wasn't exactly what Roy would call 'lovely.' "Of course. Is there something we can help you with?"

The man shrugged his shoulders, his coat moving upward over his body and catching against his side. A hidden weapon, maybe? "Just wanted a chance to talk to you and your lovely wife. Those groceries must be heavy!" he said to Riza. "Did you walk all the way from the village with them? Here, I'll help you."

"No need—" Riza began, but he snatched the bag from her.

"I insist! I'll just follow you in. My, these are heavy!" He turned to Roy. "Why aren't you carrying these for such a beautiful woman?"

Roy bit back a heated reply and waved his cane in explanation.

"Oh, my apologies," he said, almost managing to sound sheepish. "Well," he continued, turning back to Riza, "I'm sure your husband would have carried them for you if he could."

The words stung more than they should have, especially coming from some rat-faced stranger.

If this man or his friend behind the house wanted them dead, they would have been shooting by now. Perhaps they needed to confirm their identities? Or maybe they were hoping to take them alive? Maybe they thought someone from the village below might see something if they shot them here. Those were the only logical reasons Roy could think of for this man to want get in their house.

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"How rude of me. Just call me Michael."

Roy didn't bat an eye at familiarity this man imposed on them. That could be explained away. The man was an odd duck. Roy didn't even flinch at the "wife" reference that Michael had used. It was a logical assumption. Many in the village had made it multiple times these past days, and in every other town they had stopped in. What made him uncomfortable was the man's tone of voice, his posture, everything. It was wrong somehow, not military, but something else similar and worse. A hired gun? Someone working outside of the law?

Roy eyed him for a moment longer. "This way, please," he said, turning his back when his base instincts screamed at him not to. He made his slow, careful way to the porch, using the railing to help get himself up the stairs. His hand pulled away with a couple of splinters.

"What a lovely home," Michael commented admiringly, turning his gaze that was just a little too bright to view the flowerpot of dead daisies next to him.

Roy disliked him and really wanted to light him up like a bonfire, or at the very least shoot him. Instead, he invited him in through a thin smile.

Michael stepped over the threshold. Riza caught his eye on her way in, sharing with him a warning that Roy both understood and ignored. He was going to let this man inside, and then he was going to interrogate him. He would find out who sent the little rat-faced sleaze-bag to their home, and then he would incinerate him and their whole stupid house.

By the time Roy closed the door and turned back around, there was a gun in his face.

Michael smiled. "So tell me, do you know a Colonel Roy Mustang?"

Lol ugh, this chapter. Hopefully it hasn't been tweaked to death. After I posted the first chapter, I went through and did a rough outline for the whole thing because it'd be silly for me to plan ahead before I was knee-deep in it, right? Takes the spontaneity out of it. And the stability. And the organization . . .

So this isn't going to be nearly as angsty as StP, but that's not to say there won't be some angst. Case-in-point, Roy. That man is an angsty magnet. He lends himself well to it c: And Ed is just as bad. It's gonna be a good time! :D

This one'll be on the shorter side, so maybe less than 15 chapters? I mean, seven days? How much trouble can they get into in seven days that they haven't in three months?

That, my friends, is relative to how much caffeine I've consumed and how much sleep I get :)

Gosh, I'm rambling. That's what rambling looks like. I'm going to go to bed like the old woman I am. I mean, I told kids to stay off my lawn on Sunday. Pretty sure that means I've reached senior status. These youths were taking their bikes down my concrete stairs. They were going to break their necks, and then I'd have to find a way to clean blood off of concrete. I don't need that aggravation.

If you have the time, drop a review and I'll see you next time!

God Bless,

-RainFlame