Okay, so it's chapter two time! :D

I got two reviews! :D Yuess! -me ish happy- Granted, it's not all that much compared to the amount some authors get, but it's still really good for me. Especially considering the amount of stories there are in FMA fiction. 0.o

Ronyan- Thanks bunches! ;) You wanted more, so here you go!

distantblue- Wow! That review made me feel all... happy snuggly inside. xD I'm glad that you really liked it, and I know that second chapters can never live up to the first, but I hope that this one matches your expectations. I hope that I don't, as the story progresses, ruin those expectations... xD

Well, this chapter is a lot longer than the first one. Even though it says on FanFiction that it's shorter... -.-''' Word Count is seriously screwed up. It's a page of size seven font with no margins longer. xD It's also a bit more practical and realistic. So, I really hope that you guys like it!


~*~
Because the night is deafening when the silence is listening
And I'm down on my knees and I know that something's missing
Because the back of my mind is holding things I'm relying in
But I choose to ignore it because I'm always denying them
I'm a bit of a manic when it's not as I plan it
Cause I start losing my head and I get all up in a panic
Remember when we were kids and always knew when to quit it?
Are we denying a crisis or are we scared of admitting it?
Savior, by LIGHTS
~*~


There were three things that Riza Hawkeye had decided upon since entering the small, gray, room that looked as if it might be her home for a lot longer.

1. These chairs, pieced together from scrap metal, would probably give her chronic back problems before she escaped.

2. The room really needed to get some form of ventilation installed.

3. Nobody trusts a liar.

Riza was a liar. She hadn't intended to become one, nor had she wanted to, but the fact was still there that she was a liar. And somehow, people knew that. There was no possible way anyone could tell that she had spoken a lie, and nothing to suggest that Riza herself was a liar. You could just tell. There was something in the truth that beckoned to people, called them to find it.

And she was supposed to stop that?

She lifted her elbows onto the table and clasped her hands together over her mouth. Riza intended that to be the closest she ever came to displaying this emotion. Not guilt, more like… fear. Fear that she would be found out. It wasn't herself that Riza was worried about- quite the opposite, in fact.

If she went down, then Roy Mustang would inevitably follow.

And Riza would do anything to stop that from happening.

A list, she told herself.

Number one. She had to make sure that her story would match up against Roy's. Which meant she needed to buy some more time. Time. Riza thought that she could manage that.

Number two. Find all survivors. Find a plausible explanation that would match with their descriptions of the blast.

Number three. Get them to trust her.

The door creaked open, snapping Riza away from her task. The old captain, who had been with her all day, entered again. He smiled at her wearily and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. Riza returned the welcome with a cold stare.

He settled himself down opposite the table. "Well," he chortled. "The hospital ladies are jumping down my ass claiming that I've stolen their patient, so I'm going to wrap things up here."

Riza nodded crisply and folded her hands in front of her. "I'm glad to hear it, sir."

"Just, ah… let me run over your story one more time." The man looked down at the sheath of papers in his hands and then back up to Riza. "You say that it was the candle that caused the fire?"

"Yes, sir," Riza said stiffly, catching her breath.

He leaned forward, his wrinkled face kind. "I heard that the blast was nearly explosive."

"A candle, sir. It caught the matches."

There had been a candle. She saw it right now, as clear as if it were only five minutes past. Right behind Roy. It was close enough.


Tomiras looked at Riza for a second longer before turning his attention back to Roy. He gestured towards the darkening sky. Riza read his lips to herself. Their voices were almost too faint to hear it.

"The sky's getting dark," he said cockily.

They were relaxed now. Roy himself was even smiling, engaging in chat with the Ishvalan leader. He looked at the sky, nodded, and turned back to Tomiras.

"I'll light a candle."

Roy picked up the cardboard matchbox. He had never liked to use his alchemy unnecessarily.


"Sabotage, then? An Ishvalite opposed to compromise?"

Riza shook her head. "It was an accident, sir."

He looked at her for a second later, and then sighed. It was plain that he didn't believe her. Riza mentally berated herself for being so stupid. It had nearly been an explosion. She had just figured that they wouldn't know that.

"Alright then, Private," he said kindly. "I guess I'll let you go and get your treatment. If you remember anything, tell the nurses to give Sergeant Bryant a call, okay?" He clapped a hand onto her shoulder.

She winced at the sudden pressure on her arm. The shoulder was one of the places where she had either been scalded by the heat or burned. Riza shrugged the arm off. "I'll remember that, sir."

Riza opened the creaky old door with its worn handle and let herself out after nearly four hours. She smiled.


Upon reaching the hospital tent, Riza settled herself into one of the old chairs that the army was too cheap to replace. She observed the rest of the people clustered around her.

White faces.

Sometimes, it was a bit unnerving to be here at the hospital, although she always seemed to be there. It was clean and smelled like a mixture of antiseptic and blood. After days being out on the battlefield where the faces she saw were either brown or stained red. It was a bit sad, that she was more used to the battlefield than her own people by now.

"Miss Hawkeye!"

A nurse with fluffy brown hair and a dazzling smile approached her.

"Hello Elizabeth." Riza smiled faintly.

"You here to see that Corporal Mustang?" she said peppily.

Riza shook her head. "No. My arm was burned in that fire this morning. It's been bothering me, so I figured I'd come and see you."

Elizabeth gave her a look that said 'are you stupid?' She rolled her eyes. "Well, normally, you'd have to wait a while before I could get to you, but… I guess that I can open a spot for you. Will you see the Corporal while you're at it?"

She narrowed her eyes at Elizabeth. "…No."

"You're so cruel!"

Riza breathed out in relief, enjoying the harmless banter between her and a friend. "Can I just get bandaged up now?"

"Come on!" Elizabeth pouted. "I haven't seen you for ages and you don't have anything else to say?"

"Not in particular.:

"Well." She sighed and began walking. "It's been a pretty slow day, Riza. You'd think otherwise, but you're actually one of the only people who I've had to treat for burns today."

Riza silenced and looked down at the floor where they had been walking. No need to clarify on that one. "I guess I'm just lucky."

"Hah! Luck!" Elizabeth laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, if that's what you want to call it. Although I'd have said something more along the lines of 'as stubborn as an ass and as pig-headed as a… pig…"

Ignoring the messed up analogies there, Riza flicked her friend on the back of her head. "I didn't come here to be insulted."

"Right, right." She laughed again and pushed Riza out of the tent and into another one. "Burn clinic."

The room was filled with people wrapped in white bandages. Their faces were mostly gaunt. Still white. Riza wondered for a second what happened to the Ishvalites when they had burns, but then she gave that up. They were probably never given a chance to make it to a burn clinic.

"This is sad," she remarked quietly.

Elizabeth glanced over the group of people. "I can't say I've gotten used to it. It's okay though. Mostly they'll be up and moving in a couple of weeks. You know what they say? Burns are some of the most painful injuries you can get, but they do heal pretty well. I mean, for the bad burns, the pain never really goes away, but I'd still rather be burned than cut or something."

Riza nodded faintly. "Right."

Burns were some of the most painful injuries there were. Sounded familiar.

Elizabeth guided Riza into a room with a couple of other occupants and pushed her down into a standard military issue black cot. "Sit."

Riza obeyed.

While Elizabeth left to find burn cream and some bandages, Riza surveyed her companions. A couple of elderly men sat against the wall on the other side of the room, watching her cautiously. Much too old be going to war, they were. Riza wondered why the military wouldn't just let them retire in peace. In reality, they didn't need any more soldiers.

What was happening in Ishval was already a massacre.

She looked across the room. There was a military woman with short, dark, curly hair. She clutched a child with light brown skin and clear green eyes to her side. A halfling. One of the products of an unfair war. The woman glared apprehensively at her. Riza wondered at the fact that she had not been discharged.

Elizabeth bustled back into the room, clutching a bundle in her rather stout arms. She gave Riza a grin. "Now, don't you worry, Riza honey. I'm gonna get you fixed up in no time."

"I look forward to it," Riza said, rather sarcastically.

She received a dirty glare.

The nurse then proceeded to remove Riza's jacket, to get at the burns on her shoulder. Riza was silently grateful that she wore those strappy shirt-things under her uniform, to cover up her back. Elizabeth clucked her tongue.

Riza's right shoulder and upper arm were a blistered red that was beginning to bubble up. It wasn't as bad as some of the things she had seen, but the skin was cracked and peeling. It felt almost like the sunburns she used to get when she was little. Only multiplied on a scale of ten.

"Not bad. You're as slippery as ever, Riza. If I played with fire like you, I'd be long gone by now."

I play with fire? Riza chuckled in light amusement. "That's why you're not a soldier."

"Oh, shut it," Elizabeth snapped meanly. She slathered a white cream all over Riza's shoulder and arm. "I can guarantee you'll feel much worse later. Won't be so cocky then."

She smiled. "We'll see."

Elizabeth stepped back and clapped her hands together. "Ohh-kay then! You're almost done. I have to let it sit before wrapping it. Sorta like lotion, you know? So I'll be back in a minute to wrap you up. Meanwhile, I gotta go and take care of some other fool." She pulled a face before leaving.

Riza relaxed against her cot, feeling the rough surface of the black material pressing against her back. She was kind of sore, but in the way that makes you want to stretch even further, and she really could have used a drink of water.

It was far too quiet.

Normally Riza enjoyed the quiet, but right now, it was almost deafening, hung heavy with glares. The people were all looking at her, contempt evident in their eyes.

She tilted her head down so that her bangs nearly covered her eyes and drew up her legs so that she could rest her arms on them. Riza didn't think she had done anything. Beaning Jean Havoc in the head with a sharp rock wouldn't cause this much dissent, no matter how well he was liked, right? Right.

A man with black hair stuck his head in the tent. "Burn clinic?"

"Burn clinic," the woman with the halfling child said.

After a few months at war, most people gave up on forming fully articulate sentences. Humor, too, was discarded.

"Great." He smiled toothily at the other occupants of the room, finally letting his eyes rest on Riza.

Riza herself arched her eyebrows and smiled in amusement. "Hughes? Where do you get off getting burned?"

Maes Hughes chuckled in return and rubbed his head of already messy hair. He looked at Riza with apprehension in his eyes. "Well, actually Riza… I'm just here looking for you."

Before she had time to process that thought, he had turned around and started calling for someone.

The tent flap was pushed out of the way, and an all-too-familiar face appeared. Sergeant Bryant, Riza's personal tormentor, smiled at her calmingly. His hands were open, in a gesture of peace. (Something that she didn't get to have too much of.)

"Is something wrong, sir?"

His mouth tightened. Most likely he was embarrassed to be accusing 'the fire's heroine' in public, or maybe he was just as aware as Riza was of the promise he'd made to let her get some rest.

Riza blinked and tightened her mouth too, ignoring the slowly swelling panic that threatened to make her spill everything right there.

"We went back to look."

"Did you now?" Riza's eye darted around the room.

So stupid. She had been so stupid. Did she really think that they wouldn't check every detail? The force of the explosion, well, it had almost been like a malfunctioning fire starter. Without a fuse to be lit, it had just… exploded. A candle wouldn't do that. And besides- they would have noticed a candle. Been able to stop it. Had it been a candle; even Riza, from her position on the other side of the tent, could have stopped it.

She had been counting on the fire destroying all evidence, and obviously, it hadn't.

"The candle was never lit," Sergeant Bryant said in an almost apologetic tone. As if he hated having to accuse her. "And we found this."

A stick was tossed into her lap.

Riza picked it up and lifted it closer. It was burnt to charcoal, but still recognizable. The remainder of a matchstick.

How it had survived was beyond her, but it was obvious that Riza held part of the thing that started the fire. She closed her eyes and clenched her fist around it, crushing the thing to ashes. The men didn't object.

"We lost quite a couple of good men today. If you're ready to explain, then we'll be going back to headquarters.

Maes Hughes and his companion stepped up to her bed. He grinned and shrugged, but took her arm anyway. Riza could only be grateful that he was gentle enough not to take her shoulder. She didn't dare to make a scene.

Maybe it was that last ounce of self-preservation kicking in. Rule number 15- denial only makes it all the more obvious.

It was rather sad that Riza had stopped caring about the lies that she was telling right now, but she guessed it was for a good cause. The best friend that she had ever had. Riza could afford to go down, if Roy stayed afloat.

The real problem was whether or not she should have.

Even Riza felt it sometimes- the distrust that the people in the encampment felt of Roy Mustang, Flame alchemist. It wasn't natural, they said. Someone who killed with flames, who murdered hundreds at a time, who denied honest men the chance for an honest fight for their lives. Riza was glad she had chosen not to follow in her father's footsteps- he had been brilliant, but it was a twisted, perverse sort of brilliance.

Just what had he created?


I might as well tell you right now that this isn't going to be about Riza trying to come to terms with Roy's alchemy, because I really don't see it like that. If anyone remembers, both Riza AND Roy view his alchemy as something to be feared and distrusted. That's what this story is partially about.

So remember, that last line isn't about Roy! It's more about his alchemy. Even Riza's fahter said it: his alchemy was too dangerous for anyone to know.

Review! I'm really anxious to know what you think of this! D: