I was always curious about how Riza felt about the Tucker incident. I thought it was an interesting idea to explore what the outcome would be if she weren't able to completely compartmentalize her emotions for once. This is my attempt at filling in the gaps. I didn't intend for this to also be a multi chapter fic... Oops!
Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading.
- K.
She had met Shou Tucker once, briefly.
Eleven and a half months ago. He was pleasant, albeit nervous, but not enough to justify why he unnerved her so. Colonel Mustang met with all State Alchemists in East City upon his promotion, to gain allies and to sniff out enemies. Tucker's skittish demeanor easily evoked the Colonel's politeness, as well as a bit of his pity. Shou's eyes seemed a little too vacant, but not in a way that was thoughtful or melancholic. Riza didn't know what to make of it, why his disposition made her palms a bit too warm and her heartbeat pick up, why she couldn't exactly look him in the eye as he would chatter humbly about his research over tea in his dusty home that smelled of old linens.
He'd speak of how his wife left him last year, and how he became a State Alchemist "practically the next day," smiling sheepishly. He'd admitted that the demise of his marriage was due to being too wrapped up in his work, to which Roy breathed out a sharp laugh,"aren't we all."
They shared a chuckle that Riza couldn't quite bring herself to join in on.
She couldn't pin this feeling, like a hand settled around the column of her throat, waiting to clench into a fist and suffocate her. Riza wondered if the Colonel felt it too, however he exuded nothing but intrigue at the complexity of biologic alchemy that Shou was well versed in. Surely if there were curtains to peel back on his character, Mustang would have mentioned something, perceptive as he was. But social awkwardness was decidedly non-threatening; paired with his sweet, bubbly daughter and family dog, Mustang was none the wiser, nor was she.
When military police informed them of the details - his daughter and their dog - she felt the ground disappear beneath her feet, as if in a dream where she'd jolt awake any moment. She had to stifle the nausea rapidly threatening to manifest vomit as she realized why he disturbed her so.
Those same eyes beckoned her to the study ten years ago, tagging her with an undue burden; the ink sealing her fate before she could even dream of a life beyond her pain.
She followed the Colonel through the Tucker home, trying her damndest to stuff away her discomfort to unpack later, but the glaring parallels slowly peeled back the lid of her trauma— dishes that had been neglected for some time, alchemic textbooks on every flat surface, some collecting dust while others seemed to have been thrown open in a frantic state. The bare walls, the worn curtains, because when might a father and alchemist ever find home decor among their list of priorities? Why would he regard his daughter as anything more than a relic for his perversion?
How could any alchemist be anything other than perverse?
"It's so cruel." Riza heard herself say. Her mind and her body were separated by glass— she couldn't feel the rain, couldn't feel her legs moving as she descended down the steps behind her Colonel. She could only watch, only listen from a detached space, and hope her body would not betray her by imploding. "If there truly is a Devil, we've seen his work tonight."
"The Devil's work, huh?" Roy's shoulders tensed, but he didn't look back at her. She had a hunch he could not bring himself to. "We state alchemists are human artillery they roll out if nothing else works. And when the military calls, it's our duty to respond regardless of how grotesque the scenario."
He continued down the steps, only slowing as he began to descend upon the Elric brothers, still not yet in earshot. "To serve we have to distance ourselves from emotional attachments. In that way, we're not so different from Tucker."
"With respect," she bit out harshly, and Roy startled. He allowed himself to steal a glance at her, and wished he hadn't. Her eyes were cold, her face pallid. She felt bile in her chest. "That's the reasoning of an adult."
Her eyes shifted to the brothers, something like anguish washing over her apathy as she regarded them. She understood their pain all too well. The pain only a child could feel, realizing an innocent life was violated by the brutal science their government weaponized.
She thought of Al's soul being attached to a cold, clunky suit of armor, his human experiences being snatched away from him as a little boy. She thought of Ed, the physical pain he felt when his limbs were ripped away from him. She thought of the terror he lived through when he realized his brother was gone and it was not his mother returned to him, but instead an abomination of their combined effort, their innocent yearning for their mother's love once more. The cruel reality that alchemy could not be inherently hopeful, and equivalent exchange was hardly ever fair.
Her glance then turned to Roy, who was watching her. The glass separating her mind and body cracked as resentment began to simmer within her. His face shifted minutely, and she knew he knew. His perceptiveness was typically a comfort, yet in this moment it only fed her rage. Where was it when it could have made a difference?
Where was it when it could have saved that little girl?
She continued, so soft he had to strain to hear her.
"But… those children are still just…"