Thank you all so much for reviewing!

Sorry this one's out a bit late; stuff happened again. Also, remember I split this chapter up into two parts, this part and last update's part, which is why these two might seem a bit short and offish. Hopefully, they'll be two more chapters left at Christmas' place after this one, then we'll be very close to being done! Hope you guys enjoy! :D

Roy left, soon after Al's arrival.

On one hand- he was thrilled to see him. Absolutely thrilled. He'd been able to tell Ed's spirits were dragging the longer they'd spent here, in Roy's old home, surrounded by Roy's friends, but without any of his own family. Roy was thrilled and relieved the moment he'd realized who Al was, and even more put at ease the moment Ed had thrown himself into his brother's… er… huge, and metallic… arms.

All right. Roy was a little unsettled by Al. He could admit that much. Maybe he was being paranoid; well, Roy figured he had a right to be paranoid- but, in his eyes?

Al was a seven foot tall suit of walking armor- and Roy wasn't blind; there was nothing in that suit of armor at all- and yet he sounded like a ten year old, and hugged Ed like he was a glass statue. It was all very strangle and very unsettling.

But Ed was happy that Al was here, and one look at Maes confirmed to Roy that this was safe.

After about five minutes of just watching the two brothers, Roy decided it was about time for him to stop intruding, and retreated back upstairs.

He'd had days with his family. He could afford Ed at least a few hours alone with his.

Roy explored the second floor a little more after that, somewhat grateful to be left alone as well. He found a second bedroom he could use, if Al ended up wanting the other bed with Ed- which, at this point, he wouldn't be surprised by. Roy wasn't sure how keen he was on being separated, but… well, it had to happen sometime, didn't it? Ed would be fine, he tried to convince himself, Ed had been skittish and nervous and frightened up until now, but he wasn't alone now. He had his brother. He wouldn't be left alone or unprotected- he had that giant, hulking suit of armor there to keep him safe, and keep him calm.

He'd be okay. They both would. It'd... it'd be fine.

Yeah.

And if not, Roy conceded unhappily, well, he was pretty sure Maes was still skulking around this place at night. Ed would be fine with Al- and Roy, at least, would have company.

But, for now…

Roy settled himself down in his, for now, new room. He looked down at his one gloved hand, the other still too bruised and swollen for the glove resting in his pocket. Both his hands still hurt- a hell of a lot, actually- but the one he'd spent most of the night trying to snap with was by far the worst. It ached and stung and burned and even as he tried to tense his hand, curling it into a position to snap, it hurt- and he understood why Maes had tried to warn him now; his friend had tried to tell him not to snap too much with his hands still injured, and he was right, he shouldn't have done this-

But he needed to be able to protect himself.

He had to.

Roy stared down to his glove once more. He stared down at the wet, soaked towel he'd grabbed when he changed rooms- one that was too wet to be set on fire.

He sighed again.

Then, he raised his hand, and snapped.

This time, it only took a few minutes for his hand to hurt too badly to go on- and he'd been no more successful these few tries than he'd been all the night before. Not that he even knew what success would look like, really; it wasn't as if he could catch the thing on fire- which was rather the point-

But he wanted something more than this!

Roy groaned, flopping heavily onto his back, and let his dammed useless, throbbing, useless hand flop right next to him.

What was he doing wrong? He understood the science behind it! At least, he thought he did… it was simple enough, wasn't it? He was a flame specialist. His array controlled oxygen, and the flint-tipped fingers of his gloves provided sparks with every snap. All he had to do was tunnel the oxygen; create pure pockets of gas that would yield to an explosion- that didn't sound too difficult. In fact, what he'd done in the hospital, attacking the guards to suck every bit of oxygen straight out of their bodies- that sounded harder than what he was trying to do now.

Roy sighed again, lifting his gloved hand up into the air to stare at the inscrutable array. That circle that he'd carved in his own blood and that he'd used to fight his and Fullmetal's way to safety. That array that was his, just like his blue; it belonged to him and only him and that was the end of it.

That nightmare thing that had haunted him for weeks, and that was still haunting him now because it just wouldn't work.

He let his hand drop limply back down to his chest again, clenching his useless fist, and tried to block out the screams he still remembered causing with just a single snap.

At some point later, Roy was just too tired and displeased with himself to care if it was just minutes or a full hour of lying there, feeling sorry for himself, there were footsteps in the hallway. He clenched his fist again, forcing himself to stay down no matter the quiet quiver of fear through his heart. He was safe now. Nothing to be afraid of here. Just Maes or Fullmetal or- it didn't matter who, because he was safe now, and that was all.

Roy squeezed his eyes shut, just as annoyed with himself now as he was shaken, and refused to let himself move a single inch or so much as tense his hand to snap.

Not like it would've done him any good if he'd tried it, anyway.

The footsteps continued right up until they reached his door, which he'd left cracked open, just in case. (In case of WHAT, you paranoid lunatic?) The door creaked gently, pushed inwards, and there was another beat of tense silence.

Then:

"Sir?"

And that was all it took for every last attempt of Roy's to remain calm to fly out the window and shatter on the ground down below.

He knew that voice.

It was probably the only one that he knew anymore, aside from Ed's- but he knew it.

"Sir, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes is requesting you back downstairs- or, for me to stay up here with you, if that's what you'd prefer. As long as both you and Edward are unwell, he'd rather neither of you be left alone for too long." There was another beat of silence. "Additionally," she went on, her voice sharper than before, "Hughes told you not to waste all your time practicing alchemy, and he was right. I'm going to have to agree with him and tell you to stop it now before you make your problems worse."

Roy stiffened again, his eyes jerking open in surprise. He flinched helplessly, staring first down at his hand, then back over to the door.

Riza Hawkeye stood there, frowning down at him, her arms folded, and her face as unreadable as stone.

"I-" He stared back to his hand in surprise, working his jaw uselessly. "How did you-"

"Your fingertips are bleeding, sir. I've seen it often enough before." She paused, expression still implacable; when he still did not move, just blinking up at her in disbelief, the lieutenant crossed over to sit on a chair across from the room, seeming to accept that he wasn't moving.

Roy, for his part, was too surprised by her instant deduction to take issue with that. Even though that was definitely something he took issue with.

He looked down at his white-gloved hand, and his eyes widened to see that she was right. It wasn't anything gruesome or too painful, but the tips of his thumb and index finger had been dyed a faint, pinkish red.

He hadn't even noticed…

Roy paused again, narrowing his eyes as he looked from his hand to his silent lieutenant.

He hadn't even noticed- but she had.

Riza shifted after several moments, seeming a little uncomfortable under the sudden gaze; uncomfortable, or at least taken aback. "Is something wrong, sir?"

Something wrong…?

Was there something wrong?

Roy laughed hollowly, his eyes sliding shut. Understatement of the fucking century, that.

"…Sir?"

Riza Hawkeye Riza Hawkeye Riza Hawkeye…

Squeezing his eyes shut again, Roy forcibly unclenched his fist and used it to push himself upright, hand stinging and back screaming but breaths heavy, shoulders slumping with the weight of everything that he didn't want to remember but that he knew was true. He looked up at the lieutenant flatly, holding her gaze even she pulled back as if trying to break his. "We know each other," he finally said, voice steady and flat. "Don't we."

"…Well, yes, sir," she halfway stammered, eyes widening in uncertainty. "You know all of us. You work with us, you-"

"That's not how I mean."

Riza stopped again. She narrowed her eyes, unshakeable and unmovable.

"Yes," she finally admitted, voice steady. "We know each other from before the military."

Roy's heart lurched uncomfortably. His mangled, bleeding hands suddenly stung- his mangled, bleeding, murdering hands.

The confession of guilt rose in his throat, the words thick and poisonous, and he opened his mouth for them to spill out only for his breath to catch and his heart to clench. He opened his mouth again, trying to say it, but the words froze again, sticking like molasses in his throat, because he'd burned her, but she was just sitting there before him like she trusted him, like she wanted to be there- he couldn't understand this-

"How did we know each other?" he finally managed, all but desperate with the fear and strain of it. "I… remember you. More than the others. I know that much, but- but I don't know how, and…" He fought back the tightness in his throat, trembling. "Please. How, exactly, do we know each other?"

How did I hurt you?

And why on earth are you still here with me after it?

Riza was silent for several moments, just watching him, but the pain or reluctance he might've imagined from somebody he'd brutalized so badly just wasn't there. She wasn't flinching away from him and even though she'd prefaced this whole conversation by claiming she was up here under Maes' orders, that clearly wasn't the only reason. She was plainly here of her own free will. She wanted to be sitting here across from him.

He didn't understand it.

"My father was your alchemy teacher," Riza said at last, breaking gaze with him in a way that still left him feeling as if she was trying to hide something. "He was the world's first flame alchemist. You were the second."

Roy hesitated, frowning. Was that… really it? "My alchemy teacher?" he asked uncertainly. It would explain how he knew Riza better than the others, but…

Riza nodded. "Yes, sir. You studied with him since we were both quite young, so if you remember something more about me, that's probably why…" She stopped for a moment, seeming uncomfortable for the first time; somehow, once again, Roy found it almost impossible to meet her gaze. "What exactly do you remember about me, sir?"

"…I'm not sure."

"Sir…"

Roy turned his head even further away, insides squirming uncomfortably.

But this made sense though, he thought desperately, fighting to convince himself. Her father was his flame alchemy teacher, and he did remember discovering this array and how to use it with her. It was dangerous, obviously. Maybe there'd just been an accident, when he was learning to use it? Which was still horrible and inexcusable and wrong, and he could never apologize enough for it but it-

It was at least something.

It was better than him hurting her on purpose.

Roy clenched his fist again, forcing himself to glance back over at this woman that was the only one he could remember. The one who'd haunted him ever since he'd woken up in that hospital. The one who he knew more than anybody else- and yet who'd barely said two words to him since he'd fought his way back home.

As much as he'd like for the truth to be something so simple, so easy, he knew that that was not the case.

There was something more here.

And Roy couldn't just allow it to stay silent any longer.

"I know that I burned you."

Riza stiffened across from him, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly, but Roy knew he couldn't let himself stop here. "I know that you're not here to hurt me, that you're only here to help- but I remember that much."

"Sir, it's not what you think-"

"No, it is. I understand that's the more to this than how it seems, and that you're keeping these things from me because you think it's for the best- but it's not. I did those things, I don't hear you denying it; I need you to at least explain why. How you could possibly have excused or forgiven or- or whatever it is you did so that you could be sitting across from me now. I need to know what I did, what I'm responsible for! You can't protect me forever from it, and being like this- well, If I could live with knowing them before I can certainly live with them now!"

Riza hesitated again, starting to move to her feet with her gaze averted and face pale. "I think the lieutenant colonel would rather-"

Roy grabbed her wrist, forcing her back the moment she took a step away. "I don't care what Hughes would rather. You're keeping things from me- and Fullmetal, too! We want to know the truth, and that's our right! We've had things kept from us for months; I don't care whether or not you think it's for our own good- that's our right to decide, not yours! You need to tell us who we really are!"

Because that was the damn crux of the matter, wasn't it? He understood he was safe here, and Ed was, too, and that Hughes, Riza, and everyone else were simply trying to help- but he was tired of being coddled and even more tired of being controlled.

He needed to know who he was, the good and the bad. He couldn't have the truths be kept from him any more, no matter the reason for it.

If he really was the monster his memories told him he was, he hardly deserved the comforting lies they were trying to give him, anyway.

And- Riza, he could see, had finally been shaken.

She stopped in her tracks even though Roy was sure she could easily tear out of his grip if she wanted to; could've just thrown his weakened, bandaged hand off and strode off. She held very still, turned away and tense, her face unreadable but no longer expressionless; so stiff that, for just a moment, Roy expected her to just pull away, sit back down, and go silent again.

Then, however, she faced him.

"It's true, sir," she said simply, looking him right in the eye. "You did burn me."

His heart lurched again, clenching desperately in his chest.

This time, instead of pulling away, Riza moved to sit next to him, arm still in his hand, and she was sitting so close he couldn't possibly believe she hated him or wanted him gone. She actually looked at him like he wanted to understand, the same way he remembered Maes first looking at him… and the way he'd wanted to be looked at this whole time.

His heart clenched again, this time with something he didn't quite understand, and all his protests died.

"It's a complicated story, and I'm not just telling you that to protect you. But… but, the short of it is, sir, my father gave me the secret to flame alchemy- he drew it on my skin. You learned it from me, not my father." She paused for a moment, letting it sink in. "But flame alchemy is a dangerous thing to have, and if the wrong person learned it from me… there would be no limit on the damage they could do to the world. I didn't want that responsibility- I didn't even want the ability to give that knowledge to anyone ever again. So… I asked you you to burn the knowledge off of me, Roy." She met his eyes, leaning forward when he tried to move back, not a hint of doubt or indecision on her calm face even as his blood went cold. "And you respected me enough to do so."

I…

I what?

"You're- you're saying I-" Roy swallowed hard, a knot of uncertainty, disbelief, and misery forming in his throat. "You're saying you asked for me to hurt you?"

Riza nodded steadily, not breaking his gaze even once. "You didn't want to. But you took me seriously, and respected my decision, and did this for me when no one else would. We've… both made mistakes in our lives, sir, many of them- but this is not one of them." She broke off for a moment, turning her arm over to gently touch his. "It meant a great deal to me that you would do such a difficult, horrible thing for my sake."

Roy looked away, swallowing uncertainty again as his stomach knotted itself and and disbelief swam through his mind. Riza had asked him to hurt her? And- all he'd done was follow through?

It was still horrible. In fact, he could still barely stand to remember what he'd done and it was even harder to accept that he'd truly hurt somebody this badly, whether she'd asked for it or not, but- but Riza was sitting right here, telling him it was all right, that she'd wanted this…

Roy raised his now cold, clammy hand, wiping at his face with a weak and nervous laugh. "I-" he stammered, shaking his head. "I never…"

Riza smiled quietly at him, removing her hand from his arm. "To be fair, sir, you had a lot of trouble accepting this even when nothing was wrong with you. This is partially my fault, anyway… we should've seen this coming and tried to talk to you before now. But-" She bit her lip for a moment, regret clouding her face, but just as soon as Roy had focused on it, it was gone, and she looked back up at him with only certainty in her eyes. "Well, that doesn't matter now. What's important is that you know the truth. You did burn me, sir- but you didn't do anything wrong."

Roy shook his head weakly, more in disbelief than denial. He couldn't believe this. All this time- and this was the truth? It wasn't his fault? It wasn't something for him to feel guilty about?

Riza had just sad there and told them he'd made mistakes, of course, said that both of them had- and god, he knew that was true. He still remembered using his array to burn a nation down. He still remembered using it and slaughtering his guards. He'd made mistakes- if such horrible things could even be called something so innocuous- but…

This wasn't one of them?

Roy wiped at his face shakily again, shaking his head and trying to regain control of himself. "I- oh," he laughed weakly, finding himself arranging his features into another uncertain smile. "I never realized…"

"If you're going to guilt about something, sir, then at least ask us to make sure it's worth it," Riza chided gently, and with more than a hint of teasing, and Roy, once again, found himself unable to help a small smile.

"What about Fullmetal, then?" he asked finally, leaning back as the tension and shock and guilt left him all in one great breath. "Are you going to tell me that's what happened with him, as well?"

"…What do you mean?"

"His limbs," Roy said, shrugging weakly, still overwhelmed. "I- I know I had something to do with what happened to him- are you going to tell me I shouldn't feel guilty about that, either? That it was an accident, or he asked me to, or…?"

Riza blinked up at him for several moments. She tilted her head a little, seeming utterly lost, then sat back as if confused. "Edward's limbs? You mean his arm and his leg, sir?" When he nodded slightly she continued to simply stare at him, eyes wide and with none of the reluctance or unhappiness of before- she just looked lost.

And then, Roy learned why.

"Sir," she stated, "Edward lost his limbs before you two even met."

"…What?"

"He lost his limbs before you ever met," she said again, and her voice was so steady and sure it would've taken a madman to call her a liar. "I was with you, sir… though we may have done many things wrong in our lives, this just- isn't one of them, Colonel."

Roy stared blankly again.

They'd what?

"A-are… are you sure?" he finally asked, disbelief and shock weighing heavily on his heart. That just couldn't be true… not after he'd spend so long convinced otherwise…

But Riza actually laughed, for perhaps the very first time that he could remember, smiling softly and leveling him with such a look of incredulity it almost made him flush. "Quite sure, sir; I was with you the first time we met Edward and Alphonse. We met them perhaps a day after Edward lost his limbs. Neither of us had anything at all to do with it."

"But I- I remembered-" Roy stopped, eyes widening, a cold thrill going down his spine as he heard the words again, his heart skipping a beat. He remembered… he'd been so sure, though… just like with Riza, he'd been so sure it was his fault… "I thought I'd…"

He'd really, honestly thought he'd hurt them both.

And now she was sitting here, telling him that he just hadn't?

It just wasn't possible. It was too unbelievable to be true. He could not have been so convinced of this all for so long for nothing.

"Colonel," Riza started, voice low but a genuine smile soft in her words, "you may have been convinced you were at fault, I'm not sure why, but… you really should trust us on this one." Her smile broadened a little bit more, taking on a gently teasing lilt, and she tilted her head a little to look him back in the eye. "Perhaps Hughes never got around to mentioning it, sir, but you do have a bit of a guilt complex. You've got nothing to apologize to me or Edward for- no matter how guilty you might feel. Because, honestly, sir? You'd probably blame yourself for an earthquake if you could manage the mental gymnastics of it."

Roy blinked again, startled, and looked back down at her. Riza Hawkeye, the lieutenant who'd been haunting him and, quite honestly, terrifying him, the person he'd blamed himself for hurting for so long- Riza Hawkeye, who was just sitting calmly next to him, and smiling at him.

Well. Smirking.

Roy stared down at her for one beat more.

Then- and perhaps it was the lack of sleep, perhaps it was the lingering pain and stress, perhaps it was just everything that had gone wrong coupled on the stress of these things finally going right- then, Roy burst out laughing.

For the first time in months without so much as a care in the world, Roy flung his arm around Riza's shoulders, pulling her close to his side and hugging her even tighter when the motion garnered a high-pitched, surprised yelp. He didn't know what to say at all, couldn't come close to finding the right words, but he was so relieved it was overwhelming- but he knew his gratitude got through when Riza finally relaxed, and stiffly, awkwardly, hugged him back.