Red water swirled around the white sink before it disappeared. It wasn't the first time he'd washed blood from his hands, real or metaphorical, and it wasn't the first time it was hers either. There'd been scraped elbows and knees as children, climbing trees in the grounds of her father's estate, missions gone south in Ishval and beyond, and there had been the promised day. Dozens of occasions where her blood had ended up on his hands, a less than a handful where it had been bad enough to cause his clothes to stick to his skin.

It so rarely got this bad. He should've seen it coming. He should've known. Been more careful. He should have stayed at the Hawkeye estate with her, let Havoc and Breda deal with it. They were capable enough, and with the Elric's and Catalina involved there was no reason they had needed to come back. It had been a stupid decision, fuelled by desperation for answers and for all of this to be over.

Roy was going to make sure it was over, one way or another.

He washed the last of the blood from his hands, splashed cold water on his face, and changed into the clean uniform Havoc had brought him. Roy smoothed his hair back with wet hands, and he took a moment to breathe, to compose a demeanor to fit the moment. Worry, but not too much. Determination, but not obsession. It was a comforting mask that he placed over himself, and it was familiar, because this is how he had acted after Hughes.

Roy stepped out the hospital bathroom and came face to face with Catalina and Havoc, her eyes were red with tears.

"Sir?" Havoc asked.

"You said you had the man who followed the Lieutenant and Riza in custody?"

"Yeah, he was singing like a canary, which, uh, might've been a bit of a trap." Havoc looked apologetic, his hand rubbed the back of his neck, and before Roy could wave it away, Catalina jumped into the conversation.

"It's not like he handed out an embossed invitation, no one knew until it was too late." She insisted.

Roy nodded. "I'm not looking to place blame. I want to speak to him. Now." There was no arguing with his tone, and even Catalina - annoying, argumentative, antagonizing - Catalina, didn't say a word in response.

If someone had told him, a year and a half ago when he'd been promoted to Captain and was made General Mustang's adjutant, that this was what he'd have to deal with, Jean Havoc was pretty sure he'd have a) laughed in their face, and b) he'd have made Breda do it. Whatever was about to happen was not going to be good, and he didn't want to be the only thing standing between General Mustang and the low life they had in custody.

Hawkeye would've known what to do, how far to let Mustang push it, what to say to cool his fucking tits. But Havoc only had an inkling about what was about to go down - he'd heard what he'd done to Lust, and while Ed had been mostly tight lipped about what had happened with Envy, he, Breda and Fuery had put it all together eventually - and he had no desire to see that kind of alchemy in action.

Sure. Havoc would cover for him if he lost his cool, that wasn't in question.

The problem was this wasn't Mustang about to lose his temper.

Mustang was in complete control.

And it scared the fuck out of him.

The drive to the safe house was tense, and silent. Havoc had tried making conversation. He'd asked about his plans, he'd tried to reassure him that Hawkeye would be fine, that it would take more than a bullet to… y'know. It had been met with silence, and terse nods. After that, he'd given up, and let the silence take over. Whatever had settled over Mustang wasn't about to be shaken off by him.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Ed had put himself in front of the door that lead to the room they'd dumped the guy in, blocking General Jackass's way. Al stood beside him, and even Havoc had moved away from the usual lacky flanking position to Ed's other side, as if he sensed trouble and had no desire to go against them. Good. Someone around here actually had an iota of fucking sense.

"Fullmetal, move out of the way. I want to have a word with our guest."

"No you fucking don't." Ed snapped, he hated the use of his former alchemist title, and Mustang fucking knew it. "I've seen that look before, and I'm not letting you go in there to pull whatever bullshit you're actually thinking about."

"I didn't realise you'd perfected mind reading." Mustang spat back.

"I've seen that look before, under Central." Ed said. "Hawkeye wouldn't want you to go in there like that."

"Because of that man in there, R- Hawkeye isn't in a position to tell anyone what she wants them to do."

"We all know she'd kick your ass for this." Ed tilted his head up stubbornly to glare at him. It was as if the years hadn't passed, and Ed was still a kid trying to make up for his mistakes and working under his command. "You know she'd kick your ass for this."

For a moment, it looked like Mustang might punch him - it wouldn't be the first time - but his shoulders sagged ever so slightly and he turned away. "Find out where their base is." Was his last barked order before he went outside, the door slammed behind him in both anger and frustration.

"That could've gone better." Al pointed out. "I told you to let me do the talking."

"Nah, you're too nice."

"He was going to punch you." Al pointed out.

"I've had worse." Ed said. "Winry with a wrench is way scarier than that."

He couldn't help feeling relieved though. As shitty as General Fuck Face could be, Ed didn't want to get into a fight with him - not that he couldn't win, he just didn't want to - and he didn't want to see him and Al get into it alchemically either. That wouldn't help them, or Hawkeye. Fuck, he hoped she was going to be okay.

"Let's just get this information."

Everything hurt. No, that wasn't true. Her head hurt, her side, her stomach, her back, and, yes, almost everything hurt. She was thirsty, her mouth dry and sticky, like she'd just got back from patrol in Ishval. She wasn't hot though. The room was cool.

Slowly, Riza opened her eyes. And then closed them against the harsh light.

"Riza?" Rebecca's voice was soft, questioning.

This was wrong. Where was the Colonel - no, he was a General now. Riza had to remind herself, she'd missed so much during her two years in captivity. Two years behind cell doors, two years of keeping her mouth shut, and hoping something would change so she'd get out. It had, eventually.

"I hate getting shot." Riza mumbled, and opened her eyes again. She blinked against the light until it didn't hurt to keep them open. At least something didn't hurt.

"To tell you the truth, we're not much fond of it either." Becca smiled, brilliant and bright, and it hurt how much Riza had missed that. Her best friends smile.

"That's a relief." Riza said. "Where's the General?"

"Ugh, you know what he's like. He went off with Jean to interrogate the prisoner. Left me her with you."

"Where's everyone else?" Riza asked.

"Breda's checking out the crime scene, the Elric's and Fuery are at the house. Why?" Rebecca asked. "Riza what's going on? Why are you - wait. You. Oh. My. God."

"Oh your god what?" Riza asked.

"You're you. Again. You wake up from surgery, after being shot, and the first thing you do is ask about that idiot again. It's not about what happened, or how you are, it's about the stupid General." Rebecca said, very quickly. "Do you…"

"Remember?" Riza asked. "Yeah. I think so. There are gaps, but I remember."

Rebecca stared at her for a moment that felt like it would last forever, before she hugged her - thankfully, gently - "I'm so- I should get someone to check you over now you're awake, and I should call Jean and tell them."

Riza shook her head. "Don't."

Riza knew the General, she knew Roy, as intimately as she knew herself. She knew his moods, what was likely to set off his temper, what would make him smile, what would cause him to roll his eyes. Riza knew how he'd react to this, to her lying on the hard concrete of the road and bleeding out all over his hands. It would only be worse if she had died, if there was no one to pull him back from the edge that he always skirted along.

Giving him the secret to flame alchemy was something she would never forgive herself for. Not just for what he'd done with it, for all the people he'd killed. There was something about the flame that was poison, and she'd served it up to him.

"I need you to get me some clothes, and guns."

"What?" Rebecca asked. "I can't do that, you've just been - "

"Please, Becca, I need you to trust me and do this." Riza said. "I think I know what the General's going to do, and I can't let him do it alone. I need to watch his back."