Everything about her situation was precarious. Her memories were an almost blank slate, as only small fragments had survived whatever it was that had happened to her. It had left her horribly vulnerable and alone, she'd been forced to trust people she didn't recognise, who all looked at her like she was both a ghost and a miracle. It hadn't surprised her that the people who had taken her were still after her, possibly watching her every move and waiting for something to happen. Riza wasn't sure if it was just because she was hard to surprise, or if it was because everything since she'd escaped straight into the path of Jean Havoc had felt almost too coincidental and easy. She might not have been surprised, but she had been afraid. What if they found her and took her back? What if they hurt the people around her in the process? There were so many possibilities, and not enough certainties, it had left her understandably scared and anxious.

Yet here, curled up in Roy's bed, with him close enough that she could hear his rhythmic breathing as he slept, she felt safe for the first time. Riza smiled to herself, let her eyes close, and once again drifted back to sleep.

It was morning when she woke again, sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains and illuminated the room enough that she could get out of bed and to the door without walking into anything. She could smell food being cooked, and her stomach rumbled as she walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen.

Roy stood with his back to the door, and Riza couldn't help but notice that his hair was still wet from the shower, tiny rivulets of water ran down the back of his neck and had made his shirt collar slightly damp. Her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders, and swept across his back. There was something about his back, something hidden in one of her forgotten memories, surrounded by fog, but it felt important. Important to her, and maybe to him. If only she could get the memory to come into focus, even the tiniest fragment would help her put his back into context.

"Didn't you ever get told it was rude to stare?" Roy asked, interrupting her thoughts and chasing them away.

"No idea," Riza said. "Probably not."

"You won't be able to use that excuse forever," Roy said, and he began serving up the food. Bacon, eggs, mushrooms, sausages, bread, and Riza had no idea how she was going to eat so much. "Don't give it that look, Catalina told me the doctor said you were underweight."

"So you're fattening me up?" Riza asked, but took a seat at the small kitchen table and happily ate the food. It was surprisingly good.

"Just following the doctor's orders." Roy said. "So, did you sleep okay?"

"I woke up a few times, but I got back to sleep okay." She admitted. She wanted to thank him for letting her stay with him, for making her feel safe enough to finally sleep the night away instead of spending it staring at the ceiling, but she didn't have the words. Or maybe she knew that her small, but grateful, smile would say everything instead. That 'silent communication thing' that had made him happy the night before, and judging by the nod of his head, he understood.

They ate their breakfast in companionable silence, and afterwards, Roy refused to let her help clean up. If it was his way to try to apologise for how he'd been, then Riza was willing to let him, even though she'd already forgiven him. She sat at the small table, still dressed in her fluffy light blue pyjamas, and contemplated Roy's back as he washed the dishes.

Even through his white shirt, she could tell that he was well defined and toned, but it wasn't the physical back that bothered her. Not like her own that was marked by flame alchemy. It was what it stood for, and she knew it was something, and that it was important. That if she could just unlock that one memory, solve this one particular puzzle, then everything about them might suddenly make sense. Riza had accepted everything they'd told her, she'd accepted that Roy loved her even if he didn't use those words, but she wanted to feel it. Riza wanted to feel it in her bones and blood, like she thought she used to feel it, like she used to know what they meant to each other the way she instinctively knew how to breathe.

Protection. There was something about protection. It was more than that though, more than just protecting him from harm. Riza took a deep breath and followed the thought through its associations, trying to remember. It was a struggle to piece it together, but she could remember images and feelings all tied together.

Staring down the scope of a rifle at him. Kneeling in front of a makeshift grave. Standing in front of a covered window, the sun going down, and her shirt dropped at her feet. A promise to watch his back. A promise to save him from himself. Pointing a gun at his back. Anger. Sadness. Trust.

Riza could feel tears stinging her eyes, and she wiped them away hurriedly, before Roy turned around and caught her crying at the table. It was overwhelming. Not sad, or even happy, just overwhelming to finally remember something. Something she could put at the cornerstone of their relationship, that through sadness, and anger, there was trust.

Trust that she'd kill him if she had to (and she would), trust that he'd use her father's research wisely (he hadn't, but that was for both of them to carry - even though she couldn't remember what he'd done), trust that she'd never have to kill him, and that he would do the right thing (that she would keep him on the path, nudging him gently - or not so gently - to keep him on it). Trust in each other.

"I'd still do it," Riza said, and kept her eyes on Roy as he turned to face her, confusion written all over his face. "I'd still follow you into hell if you asked me to."

Maybe that was her own declaration. Not of love, she didn't know him well enough for that, but of trust. A declaration of trust.

Roy's eyes went wide, and his voice was quiet, "You remember that?"

"I remember promising to watch your back, and I remember aiming a gun at your back," Riza said. "Some of the details are hazy, and I don't know what all of it means, but yes, I remember enough to know what it means."

If Riza had been standing up, she was sure he would've hugged her then, that she would have been drawn into his arms and held on to tightly as if he was a drowning man, and only she could keep his head above water. She might've kissed him to reassure him, and maybe because she wanted to kiss him, and she wanted to remember it. But Riza was sitting down, and instead of holding her, Roy just stared at her in amazement.

"That's… are you alright?" Roy asked.

"Yes. It's nice to remember something." Riza said. "It's overwhelming though."

"We don't exactly do…"

"Normal?"

"Yeah," Roy admitted, and flopped into the chair in front of her. "I'm sorry. Back then, we'd just got back from Ishval. It - that whole war was. There aren't words to describe what it was like for us, and it was worse for the Ishvalan's. You'd trusted me with the flame alchemy, and I had to use it there to try to wipe out an entire people…"

"Is that why you didn't want to talk about it before?" Riza asked.

Roy looked at his hands, open on the table. He couldn't look her in the eye again, once again wrapped up in guilt and self-loathing, and Riza reached out and took his hand in hers. "Roy, stop it," Riza said. "Whatever it is that's eating at you, stop it and talk to me."

"If I could stop you from remembering one thing, it would be Ishval." Roy admitted. "If I could protect you from those memories, I would."

"You can't protect me from something I did." Riza said. "I'm sure, back then, I made my decisions and I chose to live with the consequences. Even if I don't remember them, the consequences won't go away. What I did won't go away."

"What we did." Roy said.

"Roy. You need to tell me about Ishval. Maybe not this morning, but you do," Riza said. "Because otherwise I'm just going to ask someone else."

"No one else was there." Roy said.

"Then it has to be you." Riza said. "If it's as bad as you say, and I believe that it was, then I need you to lead me into hell."

Roy was silent, and thoughtful, before he began to speak. He stumbled over his words initially, trying to paint a picture of war that had damaged them both beyond repair, but was nothing compared to the damage it had done to the Ishvalan people and their holy land. He told her what he'd done with his flames, how he'd killed and destroyed so many lives. He told her about Hughes, about Armstrong and Kimblee. Finally, once he couldn't avoid it any longer, he told her what she had done. The people she had stared at down a scope before she'd squeezed the trigger.

The scent of blood filled her memory, sickeningly sweet and metallic. In her mind it was mixed with sand, and sweat. The smell of Ishval. It hit her like a bullet. The heat of the unrelenting sun, the screams, the pain, and the sand. She couldn't remember all of their faces anymore, but she knew that she'd killed them. She knew that she'd given Roy the ability to do the same.

Riza had asked Roy to lead her into hell, and he had.

Numbness gave way to horror, and grief, and Riza's hands shook and she let out a choked sob that turned into hysteric crying as she remembered what she'd done. What they'd both done. The lives they'd taken, the families they'd destroyed, the destruction they had brought upon the world. Roy held then, drew her into his arms and held her closely as she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," He murmured against her hair. "If I could take it all back, I would. But we're fixing it. It's slow, but we're rebuilding, we're fixing what we destroyed. We're doing everything we can. I'm so sorry, Riza. I'm so sorry."

She nodded, and let him hold her even after the tears had stopped. "I can't remember their faces anymore." She admitted. "They deserve to be remembered by me."

"Oh, Riza…" Roy held her tighter. "You'll remember. If you want to remember, then you will."

"I'm sorry." She said. "For making you tell me. But I needed to know who I am. All of it. Not just the good."

"I wish I could take it back." Roy said. "I wish we could live in a world where we made different choices."

"Then we wouldn't be us. We'd be other people." Riza said.

Riza untangled herself from his embrace and wiped her eyes. She needed to shower, to wash the tears from her face, and the feeling of grime of her body. She needed to cry again, muffled by the sound of the water, and then she needed to lock it all away. Not with her missing memories, but as something she did. As something she had to live with.

"When I get my memories back, I don't know if I'll rejoin the military." Riza admitted. "But I want to do whatever I can for Ishval. Can we make sure that happens?"

"Whatever you want to do. I'll make sure it happens." Roy said. "And I'm-"

"Don't say sorry." Riza interrupted. "I needed to know."

"I just…"

"I know."

Riza did know. She knew that he wanted to protect her from herself, from what she'd done, from what they'd both done. She knew he didn't want her to be haunted by it the same way he was, but without remembering, who would she have become? Riza just wanted to be herself, even if that meant remembering the horrors of her past.