AN: Sonja Jade in all her amazingness made a Book Jacket for this fic which can be found on my profile under "Frozen Fanworks". She also drew an adorable fanart of little Roy and even littler Riza under the big, big table. Please check it out and give her some love

Also, sorry for the multiple notification emails, FF was being stubborn and I decided to show it that if someone was going to have to be mature in this relationship, it certainly wasn't going to be me. XD

The only thing that makes sense is the receding light.

Of course, there are lots of other things. Loud noises, foul smells, the taste of blood in her mouth and the pain that threatens to crack her skull in two. But none of those stimuli make sense. And on top of that, she can't tell which way is up or down. Her sense of balance, her center of gravity, all of it is upside down. Or it would be if she knew where up and down were.

Her soldier sense is screaming at her to not give in to the unconsciousness creeping across her vision, keeps telling her that she must have hit her head pretty hard if the pain is anything to judge by. But how could she have hit her head? She was upright, on her feet. She had a gun in her hand, and she can still feel metal clutched in her grip, though it isn't the smooth one of a gun. And it's not in her hand anymore, it's in her mouth. Something metal is lodged under her tongue.

Why isn't she holding her weapon? She has to be in possession of it. She needs it to do her job, her duty...

Someone is screaming orders, the sirens are deafening, and a man is yelling for someone not to move her.

Me, she realizes as her visions darkens further. I'm the one he's not supposed to move. I've been hurt.

There are blurry shapes in front of her depleting vision now, shapes that hover but don't do anything. She wants to tell them she's okay, that they should forget about her and focus on the more important thing. But she can't remember what that important thing is, only that she needs her gun.

"RIZA!"

The howl of pure agony cuts through her ears with physical pain until she wonders if her eardrums have exploded. She wants the man to stop screaming, to stop being in so much pain because his desperate tone, not the sheer volume of his voice, is causing her more pain.

And she wants to know who this "Riza" is because the man is calling to her as if he might die if he doesn't find her. And even in her state, she knows that can never happen. She can't let it. She won't.

January, 1892

The little girl grinned to herself as she hid underneath the big, big table in the dining area. She had been hiding there all morning, and neither mummy nor daddy had found her yet. She knew this was a good hiding place. Daddy never came into the dining room since mummy started feeling sick. Now they ate in the kitchen or daddy took a tray to mummy and then ate with Riza in his study.

He would be so worried when she didn't come in for her lunch. He would look for her all over the place, the little girl thought as she struggled not to giggle under the long, long tablecloth that always covered the table. Even the ends of her pink shoes couldn't be seen under that cloth, which made it an excellent hiding place.

The little girl waited all afternoon for Daddy to come looking for her. She was getting hungry, and her tummy was starting to make a noise. But the thought of her father's surprised face when he finally did find her under the tablecloth made her wait just a little bit longer. After all, she had found such a great place to hide. She couldn't waste it now, could she?

While waiting, the girl stretched her arms out and closed her eyes for a minute. She wasn't going to sleep – she wasn't. She just wanted to close her eyes for a bit, and she could do that now because she wasn't a baby. Daddy had said it was hard for mummy to look after a baby in her condition so Riza wasn't a baby anymore. She had decided a few weeks ago that she was all grown up. And grown-ups never went to sleep. Except for mummy, but that was because she was sick and needed lots of rest.

Riza hid for a long, long time under the table, but no one came to look for her. Just as the girl was about to start crying and crawl out of her hiding place, she heard footsteps and quickly sniffed back her tears. Daddy had finally come looking for her. He hadn't forgotten her at all.

Suddenly, the table cloth was lifted, and Riza smiled brightly up at the big person - only to realize he wasn't so big at all. And he didn't have hair like daddy or mummy, his hair was black. She didn't know him at all.

"There's a baby under the table," the boy said to her, and she immediately screwed up her face to let him know he was wrong.

"Not a baby, I'm four!" she said, holding up four fingers like daddy had taught her to. Two fingers on one hand and two on the other.

"So what? I'm almost seven," the boy replied, crawling under the tablecloth beside her. And even though he was so big, the cloth still covered him. It really was a good hiding place.

"What you doin' in my house?" she asked cautiously, deciding not to trust the boy until he told her why he was here.

"Auntie Chris came to talk to Master Hawkeye, but I wanted to see the house. My Auntie Chris is with him now. He has hair like you."

"That's because he's Daddy. And I'm Riza," the girl clarified, pointing to her blonde ponytails that mummy had made that morning. Even though mummy was sick, she still made Riza's hair and gave her baths and helped her to put on clothes. Riza's mummy was great and so was her daddy.

"So what are you doing under the table?" the boy asked, looking at her with a funny face.

"Hiding," she said and giggled. The boy laughed too. "You can hide with me if you like" she offered, and the boy smiled happily, stretching his legs beside her under the table, the ends of his white shoes peeking out. Maybe he was too big for her special hiding place.

"Riza, Riza, please don't close your eyes! That's an order, Captain Hawkeye!"

It is the same man again, the same man who was screaming only minutes before like his very life was being leeched out of him, slowly, agonizingly. The man is near her somewhere and someone is propping her up. Can't they hear him? Can't they hear he's worried? Why aren't they looking after him? Why aren't they finding this Riza the man keeps talking about?

She moves her lips, tries to say something, but her voice doesn't work. Maybe it's all the blood in her mouth. No, there's no more blood in her mouth, but there is something else, it feels solid and soft and a little cold. And someone is holding her while she's moving. No everyone's moving. She's in some sort of a vehicle, but there's enough room for a bed and three other people beside her, though she can't make out their faces.

She's so tired, she just wants to close her eyes. But the man keeps saying not to do that. And somehow, her eyes obey, and they struggle against the darkness.

But she's so tired…

April, 1894

Riza was back under the tablecloth because daddy said mummy wouldn't come home anymore. She was taken to the hospital where sick people go so they can get better, but mummy didn't get better. Daddy said she was gone, that she's part of "an intricate and complex design that man was perhaps never meant to understand". Riza didn't know what that meant, she just wanted her mummy back.

She couldn't cry because only babies cry, she was six years old now. Almost as old as Roy, though he was still older than her.

A few minutes later, Roy found her under the table. She should never have let him hide with her that first time she met him. Now he always knew how to find her, and she didn't want to talk to him right then. She just wanted to be alone, but not to cry.

"Come on, Riza, Mrs. Heckles dropped some food off after the service. There's pie," he said, and Riza simply looked at him. She didn't want pie, she wanted her mummy. Roy didn't understand because he didn't have a mummy, only an Auntie who lived all the way in Central.

"No pie!" the girl shook her blonde hair, swinging her neatly braided plaits from side to side.

"There's a box of cookies too," he tried again, but Riza shook her head at him once more.

"No cookie!"

"Alright, I'm not that hungry myself. Think I'll hang out with you under here for a while. How does that sound, Riza?"

"NO!" the girl screamed, opening her mouth and turning the word into a shriek. "NO! NO ROY! NO ROY!" And with that, the girl crawled out of her hiding place, hitting her head on the under side of the table and rushing of to find a new hiding place. One where no one could ever find her.

She ended up in her mother's room. It was a good hiding place. Not because no one knew about it, but because no one ever went in there after mummy went to the hospital. Daddy had taken all his things from the room and moved them to his study where he now slept too, and Riza had her own room near the study so daddy could come in if she ever got scared at night. But Riza was too old to be scared and never called her daddy at night because he didn't get any sleep and was always tired-looking now.

Roy never came into mummy's room either, but that was because he never went near mummy. Roy was daddy's student, and daddy had always told him not to bother "the missus" so he never did. And he wouldn't bother Riza now.

The girl made her way to her mother's bed and instinctively slipped under it, lying flat on her stomach and pulling the sheet down to cover herself. It felt like the table hiding place, but it was smaller and if Roy came, he wouldn't be able to share it because he was too big for it. Riza stayed under her mummy's bed for a really long time. In fact, she stayed there until night because she fell asleep there too and people only fall asleep like that at night.

But Riza was a big girl now and had to sleep properly in her room. She slowly got out from under the big bed and walked to the door, her eyes sticky and her feet clumsy. She walked to the door in the dark, but then tripped over something at the door on her way out.

"OW!" Roy yelled as she fell on top of him, realizing that though he hadn't come into her hiding place, he had been keeping watch by the door in case she needed him.

"What's her blood type?"

"O negative"

"Okay, we'll let the hospital know to keep a few pints on standby, she's lost a fair amount."

Through all the talking and her deteriorating senses, she can tell that something is wrong. O negative sounds familiar, but is it her blood type? She can't remember her own blood type, but O negative does sound familiar. Though it sounds more important than her blood should sound. It sounds like it should mean more.

"I have plenty if she needs it," the man says from somewhere beside her, and again, she parts her lips, trying to tell them not to take any from him. But again, no sound comes out. All they want from her is to keep her eyes open until they reach the hospital. That's where they're going, to the hospital. It makes sense now why she's in so much pain and why they're in a moving vehicle.

'Riza, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand," the man says, and she hopes that whoever Riza is will listen. Her own hands are dead at her sides. She can't feel anything, and even if she did, she wouldn't have been capable of the action.

"Riza, please! Riza, you're going to be alright, I promise. Riza, you have to be alright."

She tiredly wishes this Riza would hurry up and get better. Couldn't she see how much pain she was causing this man?

"Keep your eyes open, Captain, we'll be there in two minutes. Just hold on a little bit longer. You're going to be fine."

She doesn't feel fine. The last bit of light has left her eyes now, and she can feel the beginning of a deep sleep taking over her mind. She can only see darkness now, and she knows she's teetering on the brink of unconsciousness. But she doesn't close her eyes. She's been ordered not to.

End Note: As you can see, I've ventured down another angst ridden path here. Let me know what you think.