Disclaimer: FMA belongs to Arakawa Hiromu
Notes: No spoilers, just, well, tragedy? I'm pleased with how it turned out, despite the events that occur.
Fifty-five: Infectious Crying
Of all people, it was Feury who didn't make it through their fight to save Amestris from itself. Mustang's whole team had been aiming to injure enough to take enemies out of the fight, but most definitely not to kill. If they couldn't have a bloodless uprising, they'd still have one without deaths.
So much for that.
As shocked and outraged as she had been at the bullet that had entered Feury's head at the left temple, leaving just behind his right ear, Hawkeye had been ready to continue on, pretending the young man was still crouching at his post, rifle at the ready. But then there was a mournful howl. She looked over, dreading seeing her fallen friend, but all the same unable to look away. Hayate, faithful hound he was, had sat by Feury's side, snuffling at his face and whimpering, letting loose one howl after another. Before she knew it, Hawkeye's eyes clouded over, blurred by the tears gathering. She tried to blink them back as best as she could – there was no time to cry on a battlefield.