AN: The wonderful XxCookieMonsterxX did a remarkable illustration of Riza all banged up at the hospital as well as an adorable one of Master Hawkeye teaching the kids how to shoot. Please check it out on my profile and show her some love.

She wakes up surrounded by people in a medical facility. A nurse informs her she's at the military hospital, but when she can't recall where the hospital is, the nurse looks at her oddly before informing her "East City."

The doctor is gentler. He asks her to relax and checks her reflexes. He gives her enough time to note that her left shoulder and upper arm are heavily bandaged and her right ankle is in a cast. Her eyes scan the room, looking for a familiar face, a sign as to where she is, who she is…

"Do you remember how you got here?" the doctor asks patiently, looking at a chart in his hands. She tries to answer, but her voice is too raspy. She shakes her head instead as a nurse brings her some water.

"Well, that in itself is normal enough. Do you remember what happened before? A few days ago, perhaps?"

She tries to think what the doctor means. How much time has passed since she's been in the hospital? How can she tell when for all she knows, she could have been here for a week? Again, she shakes her head.

"Are you uncomfortable? We can give you a fresh dose of painkillers, Captain."

Captain… that word triggers something. But what? She takes another swallow of water instead with her free hand before shaking her head a third time.

"How about you say something out loud for us?"

"How… How long?" she rasps, but the doctor seems to have no difficulty understanding her.

"You've been here for two days, Captain. You were brought in at emergency due to a gunshot wound on your left shoulder and a head injury caused by a large metal pipe. The bullet entered and exited your body as neatly as we could have hoped for given the circumstances, and most of the facial wounds were superficial, but the back of your head is going to be sensitive for a while. Just be glad it didn't crush anything important," he finishes with a wry smile.

"Should I ask for a mirror?" she questions, imitating his wry tone, her eyes still scanning the small room she is in.

"Maybe not just yet," he smiles a little more, clearly glad that she isn't going to lament a few scars and bruises on her skin.

"Who- Who bought me in?" she asks, looking at the door, hoping to catch a sign of anything familiar. Anything at all that would make this bizarre situation make sense.

"Your commanding officer and two paramedics. Lieutenant Fuery called the ambulance when you were hurt, and your General accompanied you all the way here. You weren't alone at any point. In fact, the only reason you're with us now and not anyone you know is because one of the nurses had to force General Mustang out for his own health."

Once again, her eyes wander around the room, trying to imagine all those people the doctor is telling her about.

"Are you looking for something in particular, Captain?" the doctor asks cautiously, making her realize he hasn't missed her nervous actions at all. Her whole body is tense, and her eyes keep flicking around the room of their own accord, just waiting for all the pieces to put themselves together. Something is missing. And she needs to find the key that makes it all add up.

"I'm not sure, Doctor. Who are these people you just mentioned?"

Suddenly, the doctor's soft expression changes into one of deep concern. Maybe he's finally realized that something is wrong.

"These names don't sound familiar to you? First Lieutenant Kain Fuery, Captain Jean Havoc? General Roy Mustang?"

Something clicks at the last name, but it's too fleeting for her to grasp. The woman closes her eyes, trying hard to recall what it is, but fails. Finally, she shakes her head again.

"How about your name? Can you tell me your name? Your age, your address, anything?"

She tries, she really does. But nothing comes to mind. All she can do is comb the room once again with her eyes, trying to find something physical she can look upon. Something that's missing and should be there. She doesn't know what's missing from the scene, just that something is. And if that something was here, she would have the answers to the doctor's questions.

"I can't… remember… anything..."

He was ten when he first saw a gun.

It was on display in the pawn shop down the road from where Master Hawkeye and Riza did the grocery shopping. Well, Master Hawkeye did the shopping. Riza just liked to walk along the aisle and choose the tinned soups they could buy. She always chose the chicken and the tomato ones, but still Master Hawkeye waited patiently for her to go through the whole process of contemplating the selection before she pointed to the same ones she had chosen the week before.

He had glanced up at the display window only by chance and spotted the old rifle nestled in a box lined with red velvet. Its handle was polished to a sheen, and its long body lay like a dormant serpent among the red lining. It was love at first sight.

Later that day, he confided to Riza that he was going to one day own that rifle. That he would somehow make enough money to buy it and then learn how to use it. Riza only scoffed at him, asking him why he wanted the long rifle when there were smaller guns available now. She had seen pictures of the weapons the military used in newspapers, and they were all smaller guns that you could put in your pocket. He dismissed her by saying she didn't understand because she was just a silly little girl – even at ten, Roy knew how to deal with a bruised ego.

But she understood. Or at least, understood enough to lend him the extra money he had needed four years later to be able to afford the gun. She was twelve then, and more knowledgeable about weaponry than he was. Heavens only knew where she had read up enough on rifles to know this was a Mouser Type B Bolt Action, but she did. She also told him it wasn't exactly as antique as the small town shop would lead people to believe.

But the worst piece of news she revealed to him was that for safety reasons, the bullets were not sold anywhere in their little town and would have to be ordered from outside. He knew then that his dream of one day learning to shoot would have to die. His Aunt had a licensed weapon and many means of obtaining ammunition for things she had no license for, but he couldn't ask her. Just as he was about to leave the house to return the weapon in hopes of a refund, Riza rescued him again, saying that she would ask her father for help.

As it so happened, Master Hawkeye too had a licensed weapon and means of getting ammunition. And he had no qualms about teaching two educated adolescents how to protect themselves. He ordered the bullets, unpacked them two weeks later and showed both children how to load the rifle. He took them to the woods and taught them the basics of gun safety, the importance of aiming and how one should never, ever, EVER mess around with a weapon, even if locked and empty.

In the end, Riza turned out to be better at using the weapon than Roy, but it never made him jealous. As he grew up, the memory of her outshooting him in almost every match or hunt they ever had was not what stayed with him.

What did was the notion that she picked up a gun for the first time because of him.

Riza Hawkeye…

That's the name they have given her. Apparently, it is her own name even if it tastes odd on her lips, feels strange uttered in her voice. She is Captain Riza Hawkeye of the Amestrian Military, and she was in an accident that has resulted in Retrograde Amnesia. The kind of Amnesia that made her lose her past memories, but allowed her to maintain her learned skills, a nurse kindly clarified – not realizing that her patient is still hung up on that name. The name that sounds so strange, but not familiar. Surely, if she had been called that on a daily basis, she would remember?

A few people have been to see her since she woke up. A blond Captain who looked extremely uncomfortable and whom she didn't recognize. He addressed her as "Hawkeye" and when she simply nodded to everything he said, he left with his head down – defeated.

She doesn't know the woman Rebecca either. Or the mother who came with her daughter - Alice or something.

She's been assured that her work has been taken care of. That she's on leave for the foreseeable future, and that she is entitled to it anyway because she apparently never took a sick day before. The doctor also told her they discussed her situation with her superior officer, who sends his deepest sympathies and regrets that he had to leave for Central immediately, but will visit her upon his return.

For reasons she cannot understand, this makes her sad. Though logic warns her that most superiors would act this way. What would a General want with a Captain anyway? At least hers had bothered to stick around when she was unconscious.

And every day, the doctors try to find a way to jog her memory. They think talking to people she knows will help, but she doesn't know anyone. Not the white-haired man who brings her flowers every few days, not the redhead man who plays chess with her for lack of anything to say, and certainly not the small, mousy woman who brings a book along and likes to read to her. It's a good way to spend time and not talk to anyone.

At first, she tries asking questions to the people who visit, but it's clear how uncomfortable they are answering. Only the blond called Havoc seems to know more than the basics about her. Either that or no one else is telling. In an effort to jog her memory, a short lieutenant who introduced himself as Kain Fuery even brings along a small dog. And while the animal leaps at her and almost barks the whole place down, she cannot remember him. Though she does like having the dog around.

"Does he have a name?" she asks as her hand automatically reaches to scratch the dog's ears. The short lieutenant is about to answer when the redhead stops him.

"Why don't you give him one?" he suggests, narrowing his eyes at Fuery.

She thinks about it for a minute before saying, "Hayate!" and the dog goes into another frenzy, licking at her arm as though she is made of kibble.

For some reason, this makes both men visiting her considerably happier.

In two weeks time, she is ready to leave the hospital. They say her wounds have all healed well, and those that haven't don't require her to stay cooped up in the experts' care. The small matter of looking into a stranger's face every time she passes by a mirror is not considered a problem by them. Or at least not problematic enough to keep her around. In fact, they think that being in her own home and following her own routine (whatever it is) will help her with her memory more than anything they can do for her. The only thing is, she doesn't know where she lives.

So she's incredibly grateful to Jean Havoc for not only driving her to her flat, but also telling her a little bit about it and herself.

"It's basic military accommodation. You chose it because it's near the office and the- the other places."

So she isn't imagining it. She has begun to sense that every time someone starts telling her about herself, they become hesitant, nervous, awkward. And then change track.

"Anyway, it's not the roomiest place in the world, just functional."

Exactly as Havoc is doing now.

Deciding to continue, she ignores his hesitance for the moment and asks another question.

"How did you come to know me?"

A soft smile appears on his face as he pulls out a cigarette. "I met you in the Academy. Not too far from here actually. You were sixteen, and I was eighteen, but we were both first years. I wish I could say you befriended me because of my charm, but you just wanted a cigarette one day, and I was the closest one with a spare."

"I smoke?" she asks quizzically, unsure of what to make of this new discovery.

"Not anymore. Not that I know of," he replies, lost in thought. "The last time I saw you with a cigarette was about five years ago when Mus-" suddenly, his eyes come into sharp focus, and he's on guard again. "Anyway, I'd give you the grand tour of the place, but this is it. This living area here, the adjoining kitchenette there, and to the back's your only bedroom. The military isn't much for pampering us," he tries to joke in the wake of the earlier awkwardness.

An idea pops into her head and before she can think it through, she blurts it out.

"Were we ever romantically involved at the Academy… or later?" she asks, her gaze lowered, and her cheeks tinting pink. This is very embarrassing, but perhaps that is the reason why everyone has been treading on eggshells around her.

"Oh God, no!" he exclaims, his own head bowed and face coloring up. "I mean, not that you aren't…and I… we were, I mean we are friends. We've always been just friends." He finishes, making his excuses to the carpet beneath their feet. "And I'm seeing… someone" he adds defensively.

"My apologies, Captain. You have no idea how deeply frustrating it is not to remember anything," she confides, the irritation she has been feeling for the last two weeks leaking out in her tone. "Everyone keeps telling me things I should know, and I can only shake my head. I feel so useless! I have no idea what kind of a person I was and what was required of me. I don't even know my friends from strangers on the street. Imagine yourself in my position, Captain, and I guarantee you won't be having fun either."

"Jean," is his only reply to her monologue.

"Excuse me?"

"When we're off duty, you call me Jean. And I call you by your first name."

"My first name," she raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, Riza, your name."

The woman shakes her head tiredly and sinks down into a chair nearby. The name still doesn't ring any bells.

End Note: I always love hearing from you so please take a moment to review. :)