Izumi had gone upstairs to put Theresa down for her nap and gone to help the men finish preparing lunch. By then, the soup they had been heating was cold and the sandwiches had already been eaten, prompting quite the irritated reaction from the female alchemist. Riza appeared then, and wearily offered to reheat the soup and prepare the table.

"Doctor Ballard didn't want you to be on your feet so much," Roy grumbled, "and you told her that, since you were leaving so soon, you'd take care of yourself."

The blonde crossed her arms, brows furrowed slightly. "I'm well aware of when enough is enough."

"You promised her you'd be careful!" he protested.

The small argument drew the attention of both Izumi and Sig, who watched, puzzled, as the two bickered back and forth not so unlike an old married couple. Sig cleared his throat loudly, standing and putting plates in front of the four chairs at the table. "I will have to agree with him, Miss Hawkeye. Better safe than sorry."

Roy sat back with a contented grin, glad that someone agreed with him. He saw Riza's eyes flit to Izumi as if rallying for support, receiving only a slight shrug in response. Defeated, she sank into the chair beside Roy as Sig brought back in the now reheated soup.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Tensions and anxieties had dissipated somewhat but still hung awkwardly over the table as spoons clanked against bowls. Roy continuously stole glances at Riza as she ate, aware of how somber she appeared. He contemplated if she was regretting giving away her child, dreading when she would walk out the front door, wondering if she'd be able to leave her baby behind without looking back.

"Mrs. Curtis chose a name, Roy," Riza said quietly, amber eyes fixated on the bowl of soup in front of her. She appeared relatively uninterested in eating, as the food looked untouched.

Sig turned to his wife, one eyebrow quirked just slightly. "Theresa Aya," Izumi declared. "For our mothers."

Roy could feel his lips turning upwards in just the slightest hint of a smile. "How fitting."

The relief was tangible when lunch was finished, dishes were cleaned and dried and sorted away into their proper places. Roy had his hands uncomfortably in his pockets, eyeballing Riza warily. The latter was fussing with the buttons on her coat, every once and again glancing upstairs as though debating whether she wanted to see her child one last time before opening the front door.

"Well…" Riza never had been keen on small talk. Unnecessary conversation was simply not something she participated in—if something needed to be said, she would say it. If it was unimportant, then she couldn't be bothered to even attempt to comment. "Thank you," she said quietly. "But…the train leaves soon and we ought to get back so we don't miss it."

Roy felt a chill run down his spine. That single sentence was the most awkward thing Riza had said all day, and could quite possibly the most awkward thing he had ever heard her say in so many years of knowing her.

"You're more than welcome," Izumi replied. "Keep in touch."

Riza shifted her weight, and Roy cringed. The whole day had been so torturously uncomfortable; he just wanted to be done with it. The blonde didn't respond, and Roy could feel his hand resting gently on the small of her back, smiling and nodding. "Of course—"

From upstairs and down the hall, Theresa Aya Curtis was crying. Screaming and hollering, wailing the likes of which Roy had never heard and never wanted to hear again. Both Izumi and Sig turned, Sig already starting for the stairs. In the brief moment where their backs were turned, Riza ducked out the front door without another word.

He had thought the train back to Central would be at least somewhat more comfortable, but Riza hadn't spoken since they boarded the train: which had been two hours ago. She was sitting stiffly in the window seat, her gaze fixated at the snow-covered trees as they passed. Roy took up vigil beside her, his hand sitting just lightly against her knee, frowning.

"Riza?"

Riza turned, amber eyes peering at him, a sideways gaze as though she couldn't bear to meet his eyes. He rubbed her knee slightly in a comforting gesture, sliding down the seat to be closer to her, the gap between them closing. Her shoulders sank as she hesitantly took his hand, and he was struck by the desperation in the movement. Roy couldn't help but be reminded of the last time they sat on a train back to Central in a small compartment and alone—and he wasn't happy to see that the demeanor of his traveling companion was similar to their last trip.

Carefully, he ran the fingers of his free hand through the soft, yellow tresses of hair hanging at her shoulders. He smoothed stray strands of hair back down and released her hand to put an arm around her, protective and defensive and soothing all at once as he pulled her close to him. "Are you all right?"

The way he had situated her had her leaning against his chest, and she could feel the vibrations of his voice against her back as he spoke, despite how quietly the question had been asked. Even while waiting for an answer, he gingerly fingered her hair, a reminder that he was still there with her. There, as he had been when she had been taken from him. There, as he had been when she found out that she pregnant from rape. There, as he had been when she nearly miscarried, and there as he had promised he would be from the very beginning: "It's all right", he had said, so many months ago, "I'm here."

She sunk against him, tilting her head back and resting it against his shoulder, a hand searching for his to grip it tightly. Her smile was sad, almost halfhearted, the slightest hint of tears in her eyes as she nodded, pressing a kiss against his chin.

"I will be."

The End

Author's Notes: OH MY GOSH. It's...done. The story is done. I finished it. I finally finished it. And I'm sad that it's done. (I hope I spaced this little author's note properly, I didn't want it to show up at the bottom of the closing line!)

I want to apologize to my readers. December and January were really tough months for me. Final exams took up all of my free time, and then right after I fell and really hurt myself. I sprained my ankle and couldn't walk for seven weeks, which put quite a damper on my mood and creative spirit. By the time I got out of the ski-boot type cast, I had a nasty cold and am just starting to get over that. Top all that off with school starting, and I just haven't been able to even pretend to get some writing done. But here it is, the end of By Your Wounds. Stay tuned for the epilogue!

Please, please leave a review and tell me what you think. From here on out, possibly in a different story, will be omakes and deleted scenes. I have a few that I want to write and/or post, so though the full plot is posted and an epilogue is coming, this really isn't the end, persay. I guess, like so many things, this "end" really is just a beginning.

This is by far the longest story I've ever written and posted, and I want to thank you all for coming along with me. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this, and that the ending suits you well enough. There is a lot that I tried to imply here, in the title and last scene and little pieces in between. I hope you've picked up on it!

Thank you so much for hanging in there with me, it really means so much. Please tell me what you think, I would greatly appreviate it.