A/N: Another horribly tragic AU. This time what if Roy didn't come to his senses after nearly killing Envy? What happens and how does Riza handle it? I am cruel and despicable. Please Enjoy and review!
Riza Hawkeye looks at him sadly as she pulls the trigger. She tells herself not to cry even as her eyes fill with liquid that spills over her eyelids and down her cheeks. They carve trails through the dirt and blood on her face.
His head explodes into a bloody blossom of black hair and fragments of brain matter that fly out in all directions. It doesn't hit her but it lands at her feet and she gasps on a sob as her heart constricts violently.
Her gun slips from her hands having done its job. It lands on the stone floor with a clatter.
The limp body clad in blue and black falls to the ground. It shouldn't hurt this much. But it does. Even after all this time the pain is still too much for her. Riza slides to her knees the convulsions shaking her body. Her hands quiver on the filthy ground beneath her. She tries to regain control but she can't let go of the memories flooding her mind.
Inside of her a storm of sentimental moments plays through her mental vision. Moments she has always cherished. Of two teenagers learning to live together in a decrepit old house with a very strict alchemist, of rainy days watching the storm while drinking hot chocolate, and of saving each other's lives on a battlefield that never should have existed. Scenes from quiet days in an office where the most excitement is the reaction to funny stories being shared, of scathing sarcasm cutting down his ego at every opportunity, and the very times when they were so in tune with each other it was like they were one person. She remembers coded phonecalls where they pretended to be secret lovers, staying up late working on paperwork that made no sense, moments where they could read each other's minds, and those infuriating moments where he put himself in danger only to be saved by her.
Scar had dragged Edward away just in time. He need not see what she was forced to do. What he had asked her to do in a case such as this.
Riza swallowed hard her eyes shut so tight the tears burned against her eyeballs. Every breath was painful, every nerve was on fire, every thought blaming herself.
"NNOOO!" She screamed into the darkness. She raised her hands balling them into fists. She brought them down hard on the body before her. It jolted under the attack.
"DAMN YOU ROY MUSTANG!" She yelled before falling atop his body weeping even harder than before.
How could she take up the fight? She was uselesss, a dead weight. Why not let the others take up the fight?
What good was there in continuing on?
How could she even stand up when her whole reason for fighting lay dead before her. Killed by her own hands no less. She hates herself. She hates him. No she had loved him. Loved him enough to stop him from going berserk. Even in the form of taking his life.
Crying she rose to look at his body. His face was still in tact bloodied and wearing a mask of shock. No longer did he gaze hatefully with no sign of reason. His pitch black eyes stared blankly, acussingly at her. She gently closes the lids with her fingers coming away covered in his blood.
"What have I done?" She whispers. It takes her several long seconds to decide what she will do next.
She already threatened it.
Why wait to follow him to hell? It's not like she can do much in this state anyways. Better to remove the dead weight from the team herself. They'll understand. She knows Edward will someday understand all of this, and she wishes she could explain it all to him, but it's best if she goes now before she loses her mind completely.
Her fingers slide along the cement until they touch cold steel. Gripping the gun she picks it up and looks at it. Cradled in her hands it the most beautiful and ugliest device she has ever seen.
With a deep breath she looks at Mustang's body. She leans down to kiss his cooling lips. They are beginning to lose warmth. "Please forgive me Colonel." She whispers gently. "I had to do that to you, and I have to do it to myself."
He had been her guiding light, he had saved her from a useless life spent in misery wiling away without a purpose. He had given her something to fight for, something worth dying for, and killing for.
Then he'd lost sight of his own vision. Completely given up the dream to pursue his vengeance. And now he lay dead in a pool of blood and brains. She forwned once as she fought her tears.
They'd at least be buried together if the others had any sense of compassion for them. They had never been together and hopefully they can rest together, eternally at each other's side.
Rize lifts her weapon with a steady hand. There is no hesitation or doubt in her actions. This is her only course left. There is no other way.
Breifly she remembers Black Hayate still above ground with Master Sergeant Fuery. He will take care of the dog. She clears the thought from her mind and places the end of the muzzle against her temple.
How thrilling the cold metal feels against her hot skin. Feverish as she is, it is like a promise that everything will get better.
Edward and the others will succeed, they have to. She cocks the gun feeling comfort in the familiar sound. It's like an old friend whispering words of encouragment.
Glancing at his body one more time she takes a deep breath apologizing silently to everyone she knows.
Riza Hawkeye pulls the trigger of her gun for the very last time.
It was Fuhrer Grumman's men who found the pair. His own granddaughter lying atop her commander. They were found after the surprisingly short final battle.
Roy Mustang was to be the fifth sacrifice to Father's scheme. Along with the anti-transmutation circle and the efforts of the men involved the being was brought low without much of a fight.
He had failed at obtaining god-hood and the country was saved.
Grumman ordered the bodies be dressed in civilian clothes and buried next to each other at Central Cemetary. He stripped both of rank and honor before their funerals, choosing not to grant them the respect of soldiers.
He spoke no words at the procession. Everyone remained eerily slent while the two caskets were covered with dirt. There were no flags over the sealed wooden boxes, no words of love and goodbye, and no gratitude for their heroic deeds. No one cried. Not one of Mustang's former subordinates shed a tear.
Instead they all watched in solemn anger and confusion.
When it was done the headstones at their gaves were left with only their names and dates. They were nobodies who had helped many in the fight, but they had given it up early and left the survivors to make sense of it all.
Grumman spat on Mustang's grave before leaving. How could he show respect to a man who had thrown away his own ambition and goals? And what was he supposed to say to his cowardly granddaughter who had been unable to continue without that worthless bastard?
He hoped that where ever they were they had seen this display of disgust. "I hope you two are happy with yourselves."