a/n here we are at the end. hopefully happy. hopefully hopeful.
a couple of you had some questions. I extended this chapter to cover those
hopefully.
don't forget to review,
let me know what you think.
share my love for royai and the elrics
and everything fma.
Winry made omelets and pinned them all down to the table
before they could leave. And to Edward's surprise,
everything seemed
normal.
He inhaled nearly all the food he could, like normal.
Al engaged in pleasant conversation with Winry, the Colonel, and Pinako
like he usually would. And, Hawkeye was characteristically soft and quiet and steady.
As if she hadn't fallen to her knees, sobbing and muttering
and pulling off her clothes, raking at her back,
begging for relief not twelve hours before.
It was strange,
sad, maybe.
But, Ed couldn't help but be relieved.
He hoped he would never see the Lieutenant, the Colonel even,
so shattered He wasn't sure if that was possible, for them to be immune
from here on out, no matter what happened.
But, he pretended it could be so, stuffed eggs and potatoes and bacon into his mouth, avoided his milk, and watched Mustang accidently graze Hawkeye's hand too many times, his fingers accidently brushing the back of the hand that held her knife steady on the table,
nearly every five minutes,
Seriously.
The most common was his pinky finger,
tapping to some inaudible beat,
gently hitting her skin with each move.
accidently.
Twice he lifted his arm to scratch his head,
rub his neck, and grazing her hand in the process.
It was extremely weird.
He muttered a, "Sorry, Lieutenant." only once, the first time, under his breath.
She replied a soft, "That's just fine, Sir," then ate a strawberry.
Then they never spoke again.
Ed raised his eyebrow on time number three,
but actually stopped his feast on the fourth occurrence,
he waited for the fifth.
"Something wrong, Fullmetal?"
The Colonel had caught him. Or had he caught the Colonel?
Edward glared at him suspiciously. Then slowly resumed chewing.
He wouldn't bring it up or taunt him later, Ed decided.
For whatever the hell that was.
After last night,
the pair finally made sense.
Or just a little bit of sense.
He wasn't sure if he would ever truly understand.
He was actually quite certain he would never truly understand.
Ever.
It didn't take long to get to the train station.
Mustang was speeding, knowing they had to get back to East City
before Hawkeye snapped out of her soft silence and finally gave him an ear full
for letting her rest and stay the night in Resembool.
But, she didn't say anything. Perhaps she knew she needed the leave.
She did shift in her seat ever so often, wiggling off the anxiety.
Soon enough they were at the station. Mustang had taken their bags
and accepted Al's help to carry them to train storage, then grab the tickets.
Alphonse didn't need a suitcase.
But, Edward packed heavy for their travels.
This was just supposed to be a day trip.
Why didn't he just leave the thing with Hughes?
Mustang cursed him under his breath,
noticing he should probably be working his arm muscles
far more often than he was.
He wasn't sure what the kid had in there.
He only wore like one outfit day in and day out.
They left and Edward stood next to Riza in a small silence,
watching the train and waiting for Roy and Alphonse to return.
Ed thought he should apologize, for forcing her here,
take advantage of one of the only moments
he had ever had alone with Lieutenant Hawkeye.
Riza beat him to it.
"I owe you an apology, Edward."
"Huh?" Ed was surprised.
He didn't really think that was true.
But, he did let her explain.
"I feel the circumstance I caused
pressured you to burn my father's notes.
I've stalled your progress with my personal matters."
Hawkeye looked at him directly, quite frankly,
"I wasn't able to help you as I had hoped."
Edward gave a sweet smile,
and told the truth.
"Your father was a genius in a lot of ways, Lieutenant."
She nodded.
It was true.
"But those notes were useless," Ed said.
Her mouth twitched like she felt she should smile,
in some relief of some kind. But, she didn't.
Riza knew what those notes said.
She knew why she hid them. She knew she was scared.
She was just a little girl. Her father was sick.
She needed to do something.
Anything.
She couldn't be frightened forever,
without her mother to soothe her back to sleep,
when the nights were darker than pitch,
and she could hear her father
standing outside her doorway,
hand on the doorknob,
deciding.
His eyes. She remembered
seeing them glow through the crack,
watching her in bed.
She had to do something,
Anything.
Even so young, she knew her father was in a state,
where his mind blanked every early morning
when he finally closed his eyes,
blocking out her mother's slow death.
He would need his notes when he woke.
To guide him back to her doorway at night,
to make more progress,
to get his wife back,
his mind back.
She betrayed him.
She hid them.
If Berthold Hawkeye's largest breakdown
was the night Roy Mustang, his one true child, his son,
left for good.
The runner-up was when Riza hid those notes.
She ran far into the woods, shaking,
so young.
His screaming scared the birds from the trees,
but she knew if she screamed herself, for help,
they were too far from the town
for anyone to hear.
He's not really like this.
He's not really like this.
She chanted over and over,
while windows shattered,
and doors slammed.
He had always been eccentric,
fiery, hot-headed, yet rather apathetic
particularly toward his daughter
for reasons she could never remember,
her mind tricking her
into thinking there was hope
for them as father and daughter.
She would never know if the opaque memories she had
of her father holding her, spinning her around the room,
teaching her the names of little particles that made up
everything she could touch and see: atoms.
She would never know if those were real,
or fabricated for the survival of a little girl all alone,
because they were so far from the truth then.
She so hoped they were.
He wasn't always like this.
But, she could only ever rely on the memories of his apathy.
He didn't like her. He didn't love her. He had loved her mother.
And now, he had lost her mother.
She was terrified.
She couldn't think.
She thought to run away,
but she couldn't leave him to rot,
he was her father. Atoms.
So, she hid the notes. She stuffed them somewhere inside,
crumpled and scattered, as quick as she could.
Then she forced herself to forget their hiding place.
She hadn't had the nerve, the courage,
to read anymore after she saw her name
and the reason why he stood
shifting behind her door each night.
She wouldn't ever know if her father had discovered
something of value in his research of the Philosopher's Stone.
Something that could be used for good.
For the Elrics.
She imagined he had.
Even if it was just a detail.
He was a genius,
though compromised.
She just hoped with her whole being,
the truth he discovered wasn't the piece
that involved her.
"My mother died when I was nine," Hawkeye shared,
though she wasn't sure why, "My father closed himself up in his study.
I didn't see him for at least a month.
I knew something was wrong."
An explanation, maybe.
Edward deserved an explanation.
For not being any further in his journey,
even after such a night.
All Ed could think, though,
as he stared at the Lieutenant,
Nine.
Edward sighed,
She was only nine.
Berthold Hawkeye was going to sacrifice
his nine-year-old. Not that ten years
would have made it any better.
But, she was only nine.
"But, I knew he was there. I knew he was-,"
the Lieutenant looked for the right word,
"salvageable."
"How?"
She tried to smile."I left food outside his door every night." She said,
"He was eating. That's always a good sign with men." Atoms.
Edward nodded. He exhaled a small laugh.
Lieutenant Hawkeye had such a knack for caring,
even for those who did her such wrong.
Winry was the same way
.Ed was really starting to hate
all these similarities between he
and the Colonel.
In the distance, the last suitcase was stored in the cargo car,
Roy rubbed his hands together, adjusted his collar,
and readied himself to board.
"Was he better? After you hid the notes?"
Ed asked. Ed hoped, "After he returned to Flame Alchemy?"
"Not until the Colonel arrived," She admitted,
glancing at Roy from the corner of her eye.
She honestly wasn't the one who saved her father,
the one who saved the Hawkeye's altogether.
Roy had stopped just briefly,
noticing that Riza was speaking to Ed.
Realizing the look on her face.
She was stoic to anyone else.
But, he knew her.
He met her eyes after a bit of a struggle,
nudged his head toward the train.
She nodded but didn't move.
"How old was he?" Edward asked,
remembering the marks on the wall.
"He was your age, actually.
I was two years his junior."
Roy climbed the steps, managing to look back at her only once.
Riza watched him intently. "Edward," she said,
"If you could do me one more favor."
"Of course," Ed responded.
"Please," she spoke softly to him, "Don't tell the Colonel,
what you saw in those notes."
She knew Edward saw it, read it.
She knew why he burned them.
Such an honorable young man, she thought.
Willing to do such a thing for a stiff, cold, fun-sucking superior officer.
He was kind and selfless,
maybe a little bit soft deep inside,
a little bit like the Colonel.
Neither of them would admit that.
So she didn't say it out loud.
Edward smirked.
He tried to joke, laugh,
"He wouldn't handle that very well, huh?"
Considering the flames
he nearly roasted he and his brother with,
over Hawkeye's tattoo alone.
It didn't sit well with Ed, thinking about the way Roy would break
if he knew Riza could have been gone before he had the chance to show up,
that he left her with a man who was once hellbent on murdering her.
He would certainly blame himself, and maybe come back
and burn the entire town down
for good measure.
He would lose it.
Hawkeye gave a small shake of her head,
"No. I don't imagine he would handle it very gracefully."
She would tell Roy if he asked,
she knew she would.
But, the past was the past.
They were leaving it behind,
here, now.
He didn't need to know.
He had already saved her,
over and over.
From what long list of foes?
That wasn't as important.
Ed watched his brother and the Colonel
shift through the train car windows.
The Lieutenant finally lifted her chin
and stepped to the train.
Edward had to stop her.
One last thing.
"Lieutenant," Edward said, though the train began to whistle,
"I promise I will never bring it up again from here on out. But-"
Riza stopped cold
when he asked,
"Did he hurt you?"
She didn't answer.
Ed lowered his voice,
as much as he could.
"I mean, did you have a choice? Your back."
She stared at the boy and blinked.
She couldn't answer, really.
She did. She told her father she would when he asked.
But, was it really all that voluntary?
It seemed she had never
stopped shaking in fear
beneath his shadow.
So, what had made her do it?
Roy Mustang, she remembered surely.
She would have the power to give those notes to Roy Mustang.
When he returned. If he returned. She hoped he would return.
She had been alone for so long.
Riza glued her eyes to her boots.
"Want me to kick his ass?"
She actually laughed a little.
"I'm not sure that's possible."
"Hey, I know he's the Flame Alchemist or whatever,"
Edward followed the Lieutenant to the steps on the train.
"But, I could take him if it meant making him pay for something lik-"
"You mean the Colonel." Riza lifted her head, realizing,
he wasn't talking about her father's ink.
Instead, the Colonel's burns.
She turned to him,
grabbing the rail of the staircase,
she smiled a smile that almost wasn't there.
"I know you don't like him, Edward. And, I know more than anybody he can appear arrogant. He can be reckless, stubborn and occasionally blinded by his morals," Riza said,
"He's always been full of idealism,
entrenched in the tale of the good and the evil."
This was a layer she shared, of course,
But, a piece of her, still shivering in the night of the Ishvalan desert,
her father's ghost, with his glowing eyes, was still being scolded
for believing Roy Mustang.
"You hate him too?" Ed smirked a little.
She wasn't sure she ever could.
He was hope itself.
He was compassion
and dedication,
devotion and love.
She wasn't sure she could ever possibly
be convinced that a man like that
wasn't always the one to follow,
even into hell.
"He is the good, Edward." She said, almost solemnly.
Ed wondered if she would ever have the capacity to fully smile,
"He's the only person who doesn't mean any harm
to any person except those who oppress the helpless."
He was the exact opposite of her father in the end.
He was the hope she always ever wished for
since she was nine,
alone,
and scared,
cowering in the woods,
watching even the birds flee in fear.
"I asked him to," she said, finally answering the question,
shaking off the memory, the burn, the was a good pain, she reminded herself.
It was the fire that set her free,
from that town, from that house,
from the woods,
the notes,
the ink,
the desert,
the blood and the sand.
From so many things.
Hawkeye sighed too heavy.
Ed's mouth cinched.
The train whistled impatiently,
the wheels creaked,
ready to move.
"He is the good," she said, "He's the ally to have moving forward."
"We must keep moving forward," she said to herself, boarding the train.
Ed could believe her, he supposed.
If he could believe anyone,
he could believe Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.
He decided to leave their heavy words behind them on the platform,
We must keep moving forward, she had said.
He couldn't agree more.
"Hey, Lieutenant!" Ed called after her.
"Does this mean you have humiliating stories
about Colonel SmartAss when he was young?"
"I have plenty," she hummed.
She spotted Roy and Alphonse in a booth.
"But they're off limits."
"Oh come on, Lieutenant,
I need ammunition here."
"Sorry, Edward," she shrugged."Maybe one day," Riza sighed, standing aside,
offering him the window seat. "When he finally breaks my patience."
"When who finally breaks your patience?" Roy asked, already defensive.
The two ignored him. Edward snorted. "So, tomorrow?"
Riza settled.
Then she finally grinned,
kind of carefree,
and kind of happy.
"Most likely tomorrow, yes."
Roy gave them a suspicious glare.
But, ultimately landed on Riza
eyebrows raised,
in a most hopeful gaze.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," she answered,
"Let's go home."
I loved this idea and this story and writing everything all of it. let me know if you liked reading it.
follow me, on here, on ao3, on tumblr: myrhymesarepurer all around. love royai with me.
if you'd like more of me, I've got some new fics
t i n g - a - l i n g , so cute so very fluff
and The Great Pretend , sweet but lil serious.
thanks so much for sticking through the agony
for the light at the end of the tunnel.
hope you enjoyed it. leave me your parting thoughts.