Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa and co.

This is my first forray into writing fic for this fandom. I hope that you consider the characters to be credible, but please bear in mind that this is a stressful situation that would cause them to act more emotionally and less rationally than normal. An emotional Riza is not unprecedented, given her state when she thought that Lust had killed Roy. Another important note to bear in mind is the motivations and actions of a character don't necessarily speak for my own opinions. It is simply my idea of how they would act and feel in a particular situation.

"Part 1 - Monday" was writen for Tumblr's FMA week.

Prompt: War

Part One: Monday 18th 1925:

Roy Mustang

Every single person in Amestris knew just how monumental the trial of the Flame Alchemist was. It was being broadcast live on the country's most popular radio station and there were representatives from all the media outlets in Amestris. Court room Number One was completely silent, the occupants holding their breath for the outcome. The trial was the first one under Amestris' brand new democracy and it had been brought forward given the defendant's identity as the former Führer. All eyes were on the judge's bench in the centre of the room.

Judge William Hakuro addressed the black haired man sitting in the centre of the room, "Mr Mustang, how do you plead?"

"Guilty - I can't deny it." In the dock, Roy Mustang sat up ramrod straight, ever the soldier. His voice even, he continued, "From the moment I returned from Ishbal I've carried these sins with me. Since the war I sought to redeem myself and do what I believed was right. However, if the people find me guilty they have that right."

Mustang had always had the gift of charisma and the ability to capture the attention of any room he walked into. He'd fought against Homunculi and in civil wars, but this was a new environment to him. He was surprised his voice didn't betray his uneasy mind.

Judge Hakuro nodded, "Thank you, Mr Mustang. Have you anything else to say?"

"No Your Honour," Roy replied.

The murmuring in the courtroom began, a low buzzing around him. The room was circular with the judge's bench and the seats of the jury in the middle of the room surrounded by uniform benches for the spectators. The seating was raised in tiers giving the impression of the crowd looking down on the defendant. That certainly wasn't an accident; it was meant to intimidate and subdue. Mind games: Roy knew all about those. The metal frame in front of his chair held his hands apart from one another in an effort to prevent him using his alchemy, while his feet were chained together.

"Silence!" The judge's words cut through the chattering and the room was silent once more. Hakuro turned to Roy once more.

"Mr Mustang," he began.

Roy's head snapped up and he met the man's gaze. It was strange to be addressed as Mr when he had been addressed by his military title for his entire adult life. He was no fool, recognising it as part of the performance he was to fulfil even though his rank was never mentioned. He was Mr Mustang, not Fuhrer or even Brigadier General or Colonel despite the fact he was wearing his full military uniform. Then that had been one of the conditions he'd been set by the government when he had handed himself over to be tried.

"The jury will consider your plea and we'll reconvene shortly." Hakuro turned to face the group of men and women to his left. "You're dismissed. Please remember you don't need to have unanimous agreement. Come back as soon as you have a verdict."

The jury rose and Roy expected the crowd to follow suit to avail of the temporary reprieve, but it seemed everyone was expecting a swift decision as very few got up to leave, although he supposed there were those who were afraid they would lose their seats. He could feel the stares of the crowd; he wondered if this was how the animals in a zoo felt. Everyone had an opinion on the Flame Alchemist. Some would say he was cold and unfeeling; others brave and strong. At this moment, Roy didn't feel any of these; he was terrified.

During the course of the three day trial, Roy didn't spare a glance for the jury, the reporters or even the curious members of the public, many of whom were hungry for drama. Instead, he kept his eyes on his friends and those he loved apart from the times when he was addressed directly. Several of his friends, co-workers and enemies had been cross examined. His supporters had done their best for him. Although, the case against him needed little embellishment, the many enemies he had garnered were out for his blood. He had not been given the chance to defend himself from any of the slurs that were made against his character and reputation by many of his enemies and those that sought to profit from his misfortune. Many of these revolved his relationships with his subordinates Riza Hawkeye and Edward Elric. He'd had to bite down hard his tongue to prevent an expletive and settled for grinding his teeth instead. Thankfully, the judge had reacted quickly on those occasions demanding that the witnesses desist on speculating on anything that wasn't directly relevant to the case at hand, proving himself more impartial than his surname would imply. However, Roy was under no illusion that the man regarded him in a positive light, but it did seem that he didn't hold with sullying the reputation of others as means of bringing the Flame Alchemist off his high horse. He was grateful for the man's professionalism especially as he could have sworn some of the more temperamental members of old Team Mustang voiced very loud disapproval and even threats during the proceedings. If it wasn't for the Judge, he could have been joined by his former subordinates in prison. Roy took a moment to look around him. The room was no longer silent and hushed conversations were taking place throughout the room. The unit that had been affectionately dubbed Team Mustang sat together, getting their strength from one another, giving him what he needed to keep it together. He had no other choice; he had to do it for them, and particularly for her. For Riza.

Riza Hawkeye was dressed immaculately in a white blouse and a black skirt, her blonde hair was down around her shoulders instead of up in her trademark style. She looked as dreadful as he felt; the red around her eyes spoke of little or no sleep, her face was pale and gaunt like she hadn't been eating properly, and then, most disconcerting of all, there were her eyes themselves. Her amber eyes were devoid of emotion and lacked their usual spark. His heart constricted in his chest, but he managed to maintain his stoic expression, although his fingers itched to snap and burn something. Jean Havoc and Alphonse Elric were sitting on either side of her like two dutiful sentries, looking as grim as she did. Havoc looked like he was attending a funeral in his best suit; it had been years since Roy had seen him in non-military formal wear. The scowl on his usually cheerful face made him seem older somehow. Alphonse was also wearing a suit and a solemn expression, his hand on Riza's arm. Roy managed a small, fond smile. The one thing he could count on in this whole affair was that they would rally and protect one another like family especially when he could no longer offer them his protection. The other members of his loyal team were on a row on the other side of the aisle to Riza, Havoc and Alphonse. Seated on the outside of the bench, Kain Fuery looked close to tears, soft hearted as he was. Right beside him, Heymans Breda was glaring openly at nobody in particular. On Breda's other side, Vato Falman looked more serious than normal, which was saying something seeing as serious was his default expression. Unlike Riza and Havoc, all three were in military uniform. His team had never failed him, despite the danger he brought into their lives. And he was so grateful for their presence especially now when their support for him could land them in trouble, especially Fuery, Falman and Breda, who remained in the military. He hoped they knew just how thankful he was. They had done so much for him, been so brave and strong. Right behind the men sat his aunt Chris Mustang, better known as Madam Christmas, sitting haughty and proud. She caught his gaze and nodded at him; he felt a rush of affection for the older woman and as ever was grateful for her quiet, strong support. Right next to her was his old friend the Strong Arm Alchemist, Alex-Louis Armstrong. As if in juxtaposition to Roy's aunt, Armstrong was sniffling heavily into his handkerchief. Unable to stomach the sight of his friend's pain, he looked one row over, where Doctors Tim Marcoh and Robert Knox were side by side with equally stony expressions, their heads bent together in conversation, and he could hear a sharp tut from Knox. To his surprise, right next to the doctors was Winry Elric with no sign of her husband Edward. Roy was a little disappointed to not see his old subordinate there. Edward had attended the previous two days of the trial but Roy knew the former Fullmetal Alchemist was angry at him for letting this happen. His former subordinate seemed to think Roy was on some sort of long winded suicide mission. Roy wished he could explain; it wasn't that he longed for death or that he was ready to leave behind those he loved. Rather, it was an acceptance that he had committed crimes so heinous that he deserved death. So he spent those years on his road to becoming Führer, trying to be a better man and to make amends for his crimes. He helped restore Ishbal on the way, but no matter how much he tried to balance the scales, he could never save as many souls as he had doomed. There could be no equivalent exchange, and for that reason he would let the people of Amestris decide his fate. And if they chose death for him, he would meet it, maybe not welcomingly but with no resistance. He owed the dead that much at least.

According to the clock on the wall by the door, only one hour had passed since the jury and judge had left the room. It felt a lot longer than that. Given that they hadn't been dismissed and told to return tomorrow, it shouldn't be much longer before a verdict would be given. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Sure, he wanted this whole farce over, but as long as the trial was in progress there still a little hope. It was foolish, selfish even given his bloody hands. Despite what many believed, he was still human, a very flawed and terrified one. He was also incredibly uncomfortable; the chair was hard on his butt and his hands and ankles chafed from being bound. There was no chance of him running even if he wasn't restrained; Roy Mustang always kept his word. The real reason for the humiliation was all for show, to emphasise the fact that this new administration was different from the one that went before. It wasn't supposed to be this way, his sacrifice was meant to mean something. The only consolation was that his subordinates were safe and would not be prosecuted for war crimes. In his role as Hero of Ishbal he had destroyed many souls, so any soul he could save now was precious. He had hoped that the newly established democracy would look a little more stable by the time he would be tried for his crimes. However, the new administration were adamant to close the loophole of the Flame Alchemist as quickly as possible. He surmised it was because he had a lot of support among the regular people of Amestris and had the support of number of the higher ups in the military. His hands were trembling he realised. He was getting some wary looks from the guards behind him as if they were afraid he was going to incinerate them all. He concentrated on stopping the trembling in his fingers. He wasn't going to let his enemies take his composure as well; it was the one thing that was still within his power and he hated to relinquish control to anyone. His eyes swept the room again and he gathered strength from the sight of his old team. He never would have gotten anywhere without them. He tried to protect them all to the best of his ability and if the verdict didn't go his was today, then he would be leaving them behind, where they could not follow. He knew of at least one who might be tempted to follow him. His heart ached at the thought of Riza throwing her life away like that, but she had nearly done it before after that busty Homunculus skewered him to the point of death. His blood felt like ice to even think about Riza doing such a thing. He fixed his gaze on her, she was always able to read his face better than he could himself and he hoped her talent didn't let her down this time. She met his gaze bravely, showing little emotion, but knowing her as well as he did, he could see what it cost her, how much pain he was putting her through.

I love you.

Those three little words had never passed between them. They never needed them, their attachment clear in their actions instead of their words. She let out a little sob, but she didn't look away. Even from this far, he could see the beginning of tears in her eyes and it took every ounce of his strength not to break down himself.

Moments later, it was like he had imagined the tears, she was composed once more. His Riza was incredibly strong, she would be okay. Once she knew she was needed, she wouldn't follow.

Because she had to survive.

Because he had enough blood on his hands, he couldn't have any more especially hers.

Because she was meant for great things, meant for love and happiness - things that he had wanted to give to her but never could. He only brought pain and loss and guilt into her life; their relationship was never an equivalent exchange; she always gave far more than he could. And he had let her down, again and again.

His blood stained hands were never meant to touch something so precious. And that's what she was to him: precious.

Very few knew who Riza Hawkeye was even though she was his shadow for most of his career. They might recognise her face, but it was his that they remembered. He was the Flame Alchemist, nobody would forget him. He had been the Hero of Ishbal, then the uppity colonel with an eye for the ladies before he had shown his mettle during the Promised Day. From that moment on, he knew he had a lot of enemies in the military. He was the one who had murdered thousands with a simple snap of his fingers. She might have pulled the trigger as a sharpshooter, though there was no way her sins were in his league. He knew she felt different and she saw his crimes as hers as well as her own. Nonetheless, he knew he was the reason her innocence was tainted.

She joined the military in an effort to help his foolish and naïve cause and earned killers eyes just like his. He was the one who convinced her to give him her father's research.

His idealist and naïve words had prompted her to put her trust in him and he had let her down. He knew without a doubt that Berthold Hawkeye would have killed Roy himself when he had returned from Ishbal had he been alive.

Somehow, Riza had been able to convince him to hold on and pursue his goals for the greater good. He knew he would have died at his own hand years ago if it hadn't been for Riza and Maes.

He had always needed her more than she needed him. She could live on without him, but there was no way he could have survived without her.

There was a creak from the door and when Roy looked over at the door Edward Elric was walking in. The former alchemist glared at him and despite himself and the situation he was in, Roy couldn't help the little smirk on his face. Ed, ever the same pain in the ass. It was good to see one of his friends treating him the same disrespect as usual even in the most trying of circumstances. It was reassuring somehow to find some semblance of his former life in this extraordinary situation. The blond haired young man stood at the back of the room and leaned against the wall as all of the seats were taken. Ed nodded to him, his way of showing his support Roy supposed. He noticed Winry's head turn and notice her husband. She had a soft smile on her face when she turned around. Roy was glad those two had each other even as a small twinge of jealousy hit him. At least, Ed had a happy ending after all he had been through. Riza and he would never get that chance to have the picket white fence and the two point five kids. He stubbornly shoved that thought away. It wasn't fair to be jealous of Ed being happy; Riza and he chose to be married to the military, to the cause of creating a better country. He squashed that sense of melancholy. If you never truly had something, you could hardly lose it. No - that type of happiness was elusive, always just out of reach for the pair of them.

A sudden shuffling of feet brought Roy out of his musing; the jury and judge were returning and the excited chattering in the room increased in decibels. Roy's heart hammered in his chest and his throat went dry. His breathing quickened and his fingers were trembling once again. This time the guards paid them no mind, seeming as anxious to hear the verdict as he was.

Get hold of yourself, Mustang.

He forced himself to slow his breathing and balled his fists hard so that his nails were digging into his palms.

Once the judge and the jury were finally seated, the judge hammered his gavel in an effort to ensure silence once again. Roy could feel the eyes of the whole room swivel between him and the judge.

"Mr Mustang," Judge Hakuro addressed him. "We have heard of the extent of the evil you committed, heard from the victims, those who lost loved ones and those who were injured through your alchemy. Over the last few days, we've even seen photographic evidence of the horrors many witnessed. Despite all this, you claim that you did not want to do these things, but you once never walked away either."

Roy sat up straight and kept his eyes on the judge even as he bowed his head a little, accepting the truth of the man's words.

"You may have voiced your disapproval at times," the judge continued, "but you always followed orders. You count Major Armstrong and Doctor Marcoh among your supporters, but they both did what you couldn't: run. It was at great cost to them both, Armstrong ruined his military career and Marcoh deserted, living the life of a fugitive for so long."

It was true, something that haunted Roy ever since. Even when he wasn't having nightmares about the massacre, there were times for no apparent reason when the guilt would eat at his soul.

"You on the other hand were dubbed the Hero of Ishbal and were able to seek promotion through the ranks. We can't deny that you played a pivotal role during the Promised Day and helped Amestris reach a democracy."

The judge stopped talking and took a drink of water, before continuing, "There are many that speak very highly of you. Führer Grumman for one and even General Olivier Armstrong had positive words to say about you. You have done many good things, but can these outweigh your crimes?"

Hakuro turned to the Jury, "How did you find the defendant?"

The tension in the room was suffocating and Roy held his breath as a tall, willowy woman stood up and spoke. "We have no doubt that Mr Mustang is guilty of war crimes."

There was a moment of utter silence before it was shattered by a loud gasp from the onlookers.

The judge fixed his beady eyes on him, "Mr Mustang, you know the penalty for war crimes. As such, you're hereby sentenced to death. The matter of how has yet to be decided. To your credit you never denied your guilt and that will be taken into account."

There was a rushing sound in his ears and the room spun around him. He closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing and lower his racing heartbeat. The verdict was not unexpected, but he was not truly prepared for the reality of it. How could anyone truly be?

"The Council will be in session tomorrow to decide how you will be executed. Have you any last words?"

Roy's tongue felt like lead, he moved his lips but no sound came out. He simply shook his head. Words failed him. It was a first. He thought he was prepared for this outcome, truly believed it would come to pass. And yet, it still managed to steal the breath from his lungs. A guttural scream erupted in the room.

He could recognise that cry anywhere and it cut right through him, lifting him from the fog. Please don't!

Pulling himself together, his eyes sought to find Riza. The sight of her so visibly shaken at the verdict and the knowledge that it was all for him hit him all at once, like his heart had been ripped right from his chest. I'm not worth it! Her face was ashen and he could see the anguish in her eyes, pain he'd not seen since Ishbal.

"No, you can't," Riza protested. "I'm as much to blame as he is."

She jumped to her feet, and Havoc and Al reacted quickly and grabbed her by the upper arms before she could do anything hasty.

"It's okay," Roy heard Havoc say. The man's free hand rubbed her back.

"No it's not," Riza snapped and pulled away from Havoc's grip.

I can't let you do this.

"Riza," Roy said sharply in his most commanding voice.

She froze and her gaze met his across the courtroom. As she gazed into his eyes the rest of the room slipped away and it was just them. He steeled himself to say what could be the last thing he ever uttered to the woman whom he could never love like he wanted to.

"I let you watch my back, now let me watch yours."

These words were nothing like the ones he wanted to say, but he knew they were more important than any impotent declarations of feeling, useless when their chances had been lost and serving only to cause pain.

Nonetheless, the words seemed to touch a deeper part of her, just as he had known they would. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

She shook her head, "It wasn't meant to be this way. You can't ask me to do this, Roy. You can't ask me to simply walk away."

Her voice was breaking and she spoke in a higher pitch than he was used to. He knew it was hurting her to hear his plea, but he also knew that she would listen and he had never shied from refraining from stating the unpalatable truths. She had promised to follow him into hell. And she had when she followed him to Ishbal, but she couldn't continue to follow him now. Her clenched jaw and balled fists he could deal with; it was the lost and grief-stricken look in her eyes that scared him. He wouldn't let her throw her life away for his, he wasn't worth it.

Steeling himself, he puffed out his chest, putting on the biggest performance of his life, "That's an order, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

She would have staggered backwards had Alphonse and Havoc not been supporting her. "You bastard." He didn't actually hear her whisper, but he could see her mouth form the words. Please don't let those words be the last words she ever says to me, he thought desperately. She extricated herself from Havoc and Alphonse and fled the room. Roy automatically struggled against his bonds, wanting to get to her, to comfort her and tell her lies that it was all going to be alright. God, he wanted to hold her and kiss her and never let her go. But it was Alphonse that followed her from the room and Roy stopped struggling realising the futility of it. She needed to get away from him and he was the last person she needed to see. Besides, if he tried to leave, the guards would probably just shoot him in the head now and be done with it. Alphonse was a good young man with a big heart and he would take her home away from this circus. He might as well let the whole thing play out, his last big plan lurching its way to the inevitable conclusion. However, this time there was only an endgame, no plans for the future. He just hoped everyone would be able to move on when the time came. He reflected darkly on how things turned out. Sometimes, you got exactly what you asked for, and this was one of the occasions. He'd succeeded in becoming Führer, and in one of his first acts he declared his intent to hold an election to make Amestris a democracy and abolished the State Alchemist programme. This proclamation was met with horror by the military and excitement by the civilian population. Nevertheless, the fear of the unknown hung over the country; you couldn't turn the country into a democracy overnight. It took a number of years to lay the foundation; Local councils were created in all parts of the country to provide localised decision making. When the election was held, the country voted overwhelmingly to move forward into a new era. He had also signed away any rights he had to diplomatic immunity, paving the way for this trial. Now his literal death was going to be used to propel the country metaphorically into that new era. Pity, he wouldn't live to see it.

Riza Hawkeye

Riza Hawkeye's mind worked a mile a minute. She didn't speak a single word to Alphonse on the drive back to her apartment. To his credit he seemed to realise that she didn't want to speak to him and said nothing, though he occasionally glanced at her worriedly from the driver's seat. She kept her gaze fixed straight in front of her, not that she was really seeing anything at all.

Her thoughts kept on returning to Roy's words earlier in the courtroom. "I let you watch my back, now let me watch yours."

Of course, the worst part was that Roy was right, but for that one moment she hadn't cared for repercussions, hadn't cared that if she revealed her link to Roy's flame alchemy that people would want to use the secrets her father tattooed on her back; all she cared about was not letting Roy die without her, because the world without him didn't make sense and she didn't want it to.

There's someone I have to protect.

Why couldn't she protect him? Why? She was meant to protect him.

Oh - she knew the truth of it, but that didn't mean that she could accept logic. Sometimes, emotion trumped over her cool hard logic even for her. The day he handed himself over to be tried, she'd demanded she be tried along with him and was met with laughter by the arresting officers. It was made quite clear that the new government didn't care about her. She knew it would be different if they knew the secrets that were carved on her back and that she helped create the Flame Alchemist. That naive wish to make Amestris a better place had cost them both and Ishbal dearly. There was a time when she thought she might hate Roy after she first saw the devastation he caused with his flames in Ishbal. She'd wondered how he could have taken her gift and abused it like that? However, when she first set her eyes on the tired soldier in desert and really looked at him, she saw the Roy she knew was in there in that shell, and he was in pain, hating every minute of the destruction he was reaping. It made her wonder if he hated her a little too for giving him her father's research and for believing that he could make this bleak unforgiving world a better place. He never said such a thing, not that she thought he ever would even if it were true. Instead in the aftermath of Ishbal, they found a way forward together, and somehow in their mutual self-hatred and guilt they promised they wouldn't rest until that idyllic Amestis they dreamed of was a reality.

"We're here."

She was so lost in her thoughts that Alphonse's words, quiet as they were, caused her to jump in the passenger seat. The car had come to a stop outside her apartment block and he was holding the car door open for her. Nodding in thanks, she reached down for her handbag lying between her feet before stepping out of the car.

Riza's fingers shook as she tried to open the door to her apartment. Alphonse was at her back hovering and she couldn't help the jolt of irritation at being babysat. She had seen the long and pointed looks between Alphonse and Jean during the trial, and heard their hushed whispers when she was fleeing the room. Her trembling fingers finally did what she bid them and the door opened with a creak. Riza was relieved that the young man hadn't had to open the door for her after all. She had been sure he had been about to offer.

Taking a steadying breath, she pulled herself up straight and turned about and faced him. "You can go now, Alphonse," she said quietly. "I'll be fine."

The young man raised a brow, "Nice try Miss Hawkeye. You're not going to get rid of me that easily. Besides, I made a promise that I'd look after you."

"I don't need your protection," she said. There a little or no bite in her voice, she knew he meant well. "I know you're more than capable of protecting yourself, but I do think you need a friend right now." His mouth was in a firm line and his golden eyes kind. "I don't care what you say. I'm staying."

Recognising the stubborn Elric glint in his eye, she sighed, too worn out emotionally and physically to argue with the well-meaning young man. She knew full well who had asked him to watch out for her; Everyone was rallying around, suffocating her in their attempts to keep an eye on her. She hated it. Didn't they realise that she needed to be alone to process everything? She had to be strong. She couldn't afford to let them see how this was tearing her apart at the seams.

Roy has once told her: You're Riza Hawkeye and you can do anything.

I wish I believed that, Roy.

"Miss Hawkeye?"

She blushed realising she was standing in the doorway, leaving Alphonse with nowhere to go. He had no coat and it was a cold winter's day. He must be freezing and suddenly she realised she was cold too. She had goose bumps on her skin beneath the blouse.

She rubbed her arms in an effort to warm herself. "Sorry – I'm not quite myself." Her voice sounded weak to her ears.

She walked through the door and Alphonse followed her inside. She conceded silently maybe it was good thing he escorted her home with the way her mind was wandering. Not quite herself? What an understatement! She felt like half of her was missing and she wondered if she would ever feel whole again.

The front door opened right into an open plan living room and kitchen; Riza's apartment was sparsely furnished but very functional, small but cosy, and although not full of pretty things it was quite homely.

"Make yourself at home, Alphonse," she said, gesturing to the lumpy couch in the living area. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"No, thanks." He shook his head, "A glass of water would be great though."

She took two tall glasses from the cupboard, went over to the small, silver sink and poured the two glasses full of water. When she came back into the living area, Alphonse wasn't sitting down. He was looking at the photo she kept over the red framed fireplace. It was a picture of the Mustang unit on the day Roy had been named Führer – Roy in the middle, she on his right surrounded by Havoc, Fuery, Falman and Breda. The thing we had all worked for but the beginning of the end, she reflected darkly. Maybe I should throw it away?

"Feels like an age even if it was only five years ago," she said, trying for a flippant tone.

Alphonse jumped guiltily, noticing she had walked in and clumsily put the picture back where he found it.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and he took the glass from her outstretched hand.

She shrugged, "I said make yourself at home."

The young man was still blushing. She decided to make one last ditch attempt at getting rid of her unwanted guest.

"I'm really not in the mood for company right now. There's no need to drag you down with me."

He plopped down on the couch, "Sorry Miss Hawkeye. As I said earlier I'm not going anywhere."

"I thought as much," she said woodenly. "I need some time to myself right now, so I'm going to go to my bedroom."

His mouth opened to object, but she didn't give him a chance and turned her back on him. She knew it was rude, but for once she couldn't bring herself to care.

She didn't look back, but the young man's gentle voice drifted into the room as she closed the door. "I'll be here if you need me. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all."

The moment the door closed behind her, she stood at the door for a moment and rested her forehead on the wood. What a terrible day? Her head was aching, her eyes were stinging and her limbs felt heavy. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she felt an irrational urge to scream. She squashed the impulse mercilessly, an action that was well practiced through the years. This had to be some terrible nightmare. She had never wanted to live in a world without Roy Mustang; it would be a lesser place without his idealism. Some would no doubt scoff at her description of the man that had razed Ishbal. She knew better; anyone who accused Roy of being unfeeling didn't really know him at all. He protected those he loved with a fierceness and put the welfare of his country above his own. His passion burned like the flame alchemy that he was so adept at, and just like the alchemy it was dangerous and consuming. As a child she had imagined that love would like coming home, comforting, reassuring and steadfast. In truth, she found her love for Roy to be a much more malleable thing – destructive, painful and passionate, the depth of her feeling much more than she could ever have imagined. Very few people would describe the First Lieutenant as fierce but when it came to Roy Mustang she was. They might make each other weak, but they made each other strong too. As much as she loved him, she recognised his faults too. The man was an impossible procrastinator when it came to paperwork, too stubborn for his own good and though he might be not quick to anger he was slow to forgive, himself above all others. And he asked so much of those who followed him, especially her.

Roy's words to her from the trial swam in her head once more. "I let you watch my back, now let me watch yours."

She had dedicated her life to helping him become the Führer of Amestris, and as his aide and bodyguard she had been willing to lay her life on the line for his and she had on several occasions. She couldn't this time. Of course, his words had another meaning: a code of reminding her of the secrets she had on her back. His last order to her was to make sure the secrets of flame alchemy would remain safely hidden away. It was a new low even for her commanding officer. Riza felt so angry, so hurt and above all afraid. She knew what Roy was doing when he demanded she let him protect her back. If she was to be interned and the wrong person took an interest in her back, then all they had done would be for naught. Maybe what they had done already had been for nothing anyway; He was a fool to think that his death would make anything better. She wanted for him to live, for her, for Amestris. Although, she was never afraid to tell him when she thought he was wrong, she knew she had no right in this instance when they jointly planned to be tried for their crimes against Ishbal, but in the end he betrayed her by ordering her to stay behind. Although, she had always walked a step behind, he was getting further and further away from her. Their joint annihilation of Ishbal was the devil on his shoulder pushing him forward to his death.

Oh Roy, you stupid noble bastard.

A tear leaked from her right eye and she wiped it away savagely. Riza was grateful no longer to have to bear the sympathetic gaze of the younger Elric. She could hear Alphonse moving around in the living room. It sounded like he was nervously pacing around the room. She wished he would go away and leave her alone.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he called, "Are you alright in there?"

What sort of a stupid question was that? Of course, she wasn't and she never would be again. Oh Roy. She sniffled, before clearing her throat.

"I'm fine Alphonse," she lied.

"No - you're not," his response came through the door. "And that's okay. I'm here for you if you need me."

Contrary to her wishes, he wasn't going anywhere soon. If Roy could see him now trying to boss her around, he would smirk at her and utter some sarcastic remark that he was spending too much time with his brother.

Oh Roy! She always knew this was a possibility, but they were supposed to go down together. She never dreamed she would be spared going on trial and have to watch him die. Whenever she imagined that distant future, she never would have thought that he alone would be executed when she was equally guilty. And then he had the gall to ask her to continue on without him, emotionally blackmail and manipulate her into walking out of that courtroom and leaving him behind. Her father's fiery secret and the burden of guilt they shared with one another tied them closer to one another than anyone else. Why was he the only one that was being punished?

Even Maes couldn't understand Roy sometimes. Kind and loving Maes who died fighting for the good of Amestris. Maybe if he was here he could have talked some sense into Roy, made him fight a little harder. Could he have stopped him from signing away his diplomatic immunity? Maybe it was a selfish thought that she wasn't enough for him? She would never be enough for noble, guilt ridden Roy Mustang and yet that was part of the reason she loved him so much, but it hurt. Hurt like her heart being torn from her chest, like her lungs were struggling for breath and like the waiting tears that tore at the corner of her eyes. Her legs went weak and she let herself slump to the ground as she finally let herself cry. Her tears were silent apart from the odd inevitable sniffle. There was no gut wrenching sobs for Riza Hawkeye. She gathered her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them hiding her streaming face in her knees.

Riza wasn't sure how long she spent crying but she was eventually interrupted by the gentle voice of Alphonse.

"Miss Hawkeye?"

She rubbed at her sore eyes with her hands, her chest burnt from her crying fit and she sniffed.

Alphonse was calling her name again. "Miss Hawkeye? Would you like some tea?"

"Go away," she replied, unable to keep the irritation from her voice.

Even though she knew he loved Roy too, she couldn't deal with someone else's pain right now, her own was more than enough. She heard the sound of movement outside the door and she sighed in relief when he appeared to let it go. Somehow, she got herself to her feet. She went into the adjoining bathroom and she looked in the mirror. She ran the tap and splashed water in her face. She had to get it together, she was acting like he was already dead. He wasn't dead yet, she had to remember that. She took a deep breath, deciding she needed to see him. He had rebuffed her last two requests for a visit, which had pained her, but surely he wouldn't now, not when this could be the last time they saw one another. She knew what he was doing, trying to push her away in some ill -conceived attempt to protect her. He always said she was special. He thought she could cope with anything. How could she cope with this? Her eyes welled up with tears again. This time she was unable to prevent sobs from escaping her. She made her way back into her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed, burying her face in the pillow to smother her cries. Her eye caught the old photograph that had pride of place on the bedside table, an old picture from shortly after Ishbal. In it she, Maes and Roy had their arms around one another. She sat up and swiped angrily at the photograph in anger, the sound of smashed glass filled the room as it hit the floor. She rose off the bed and stood up unsteadily, picking up the broken frame from the floor. She felt a sharp pain as on her finger collided with a piece of broken glass. She welcomed the physical pain as a distraction from the emotional maelstrom. She ran her finger over Roy's face and when she removed her finger a drop of blood fell on the picture. The image of the blood and Roy's visage caused her to drop the frame to the ground once again. Rage filled her veins and the books on her bookshelf were the next to meet her wrath and then she grabbed several and hurled them to the other side of the room. She picked up the stupid ugly vase Roy had bought her as a private joke after the Promised Day and threw it at the door with a strangled sound. It hit the wood by the Alphonse's head.

"Alphonse!" she cried startled by his quiet but sudden appearance.

His golden eyes were wide in shock, but they quickly turned to concerned. She blushed with shame and the realisation that he'd charged into the room when he heard her loss of control. More importantly, it served to calm her a little and she took a step backward and plopped back on her bed.

"Sorry!"

"It's okay," he said, his hands held up as he approached her. "Can I do anything for you?"

She suppressed a bitter laugh.

"Stupid thing to say, I guess," he admitted with a shrug of shoulders.

She looked to the floor again, feeling uneasy at being around somebody when she was feeling so out of control. She felt the mattress dip beneath her as he took a seat beside her.

"It's not fair," she said.

He didn't say anything, just put his arm around her shoulder. Her grief warred very briefly with her sense of propriety when he tried to pull her into an embrace before she conceded. He pulled her against his chest and she was crying once again, impropriety be damned. She could feel his shirt getting damper underneath her cheek and he rubbed circles on her back.

"It's wasn't meant to be this way," she whispered. "I was supposed to be there."

"I know," he said softly.

She pulled back from him, placing her hands on his chest to create a distance. "You don't know, Al! You'll never know."

"I care about him too, you know," Alphonse interjected, hurt. "And you. I'm just trying to help."

"Of course, you are," she said a little more calmly. "I'm just-"

She couldn't find the words to explain. He would never understand, because he was such a good person, unlike them.

"You don't need to apologise," he reassured her.

She had so many things to apologise for, to make amends for and to suffer for.

She could feel the tension in his shoulders as he hugged her again. She knew was worried about saying and doing the wrong thing. She could hardly blame him. Her emotions were unsteady, she felt like she was looming over a precipice. Anger was so close to the surface at the moment, but so was fear and pain. She pulled away feeling she had taken enough of the man's comfort. Even so, he remained sitting beside her.

"It's just not fair," Al said quietly. "He's a good man. I wish they could see that."

"They don't care," Riza snapped. "This is just an opportunity for his enemies to get their revenge or work their way to the top." She paused at the startled look on the young man's face. She supposed he was little taken aback at her bitterness or sharpness of her reply. "Sorry, I don't mean to take my anger out on you. I just feel so helpless. I'm supposed to be his bodyguard."

"This isn't your fault."

She shook her head, "I wish I could believe that." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if he never met me or learned alchemy with my father."

Alphonse let out a little gasp. "I didn't know you knew each other so long. I suppose I should have guessed."

Riza nodded her head, "A little like you and Winry, I suppose. Though, you know I hated him when he first came."

"Really?"

"My father and I weren't exactly close. I resented the fact that he was paying more attention to a strange boy than me."

"That's understandable, I guess." He smiled softly. "Obviously, that changed. What happened?"

He's Roy. She smiled, "Well, I got to know him and learned he wasn't so bad after all."

The young man laughed. "I bet he's glad he met you, considering he would never have gotten any

For a moment she almost laughed too, but her face fell quickly, "It's because of me that he's in this whole mess." Her body started to tremble. She wanted to stop talking but she couldn't make her lips obey her brain.

Alphonse just looked confused by her words.

He put his hand on her shoulder, "You know you can tell me anything. I'm a good listener."

Stop, she thought, Alphonse doesn't need to know this. His concerned eyes bored through her and any resolve she had melted. She couldn't hold it in any longer even if he would hate her for her revelations.

"I'm the reason his hands are tainted in blood," she continued, her voice matching the tremors in her body. "Mine are just as drenched as his, as any crime he did with his Flame Alchemy is equally mine. Why can't I share the burden? It's not like I don't dream about their burnt corpses at night or smell decay when Havoc smokes his cigarettes."

Alphonse scrunched his nose, "I don't understand."

There was something cleansing about revealing the secrets she had held tight to for so long. "My father gave me his research on Flame Alchemy to protect and I shared it with Roy."

Alphonse's jaw dropped open and she got to her feet.

He finally found voice, "You do yourself too little credit. You're one of the kindest and strongest women I've ever known. You might have made a mistake, but you're a good person."

Once she had begun, it was like an avalanche.

She stood up and starting to pace, she hugged her chest, "He said he wanted to change the world, protect the country and make it better. He was so naïve, full of idealism back then. We both were." She looked at Al, seeing the dawning realisation in his eyes. He stood up, moved towards her and reached for her hand.

A squeeze of her hand was all she needed to the gather the courage to continue. "He changed. The old Roy was gone after Ishbal. I did too. All the horrors he committed and he witnessed are my sins too."

Her knees gave out beneath her and she let herself crumple to the floor. Alphonse sat down next to her, where she was crouched on the floor and pulled her to his chest once again. She didn't think to resist this time. The need for comfort was too great. When she finally stopped crying she grabbed his shirt.

"You can't tell anyone," she begged. "Nobody can know about this. Promise me, Al, not even your brother or your wife. For Roy. I know it's a lot to ask, but this has to remain a secret, we can't afford to let it out."

Initially, the young man looked a little reluctant at hiding something so huge from his brother.

"Please."

He nodded sadly, and it was then that she noticed the tear tracks on his face.

"Thank you," she said with feeling. "And thank you for listening."

It felt like a benediction, to be able to share her burden for the first time. Any time she tried to unburden Roy of some of his guilt, he insisted he was solely responsible. Foolish man.

"Sorry, I forgot I had this." Alphonse reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Handing it to her, he said, "You shouldn't blame yourself, you know. Either of you. What happened in Ishbal was a game manipulated by the Homunculi and you were both following orders. Besides, what about all the good you two have done since?"

"We're guilty of too much to be forgiven." Riza shook her head. "I made the decision to pick up a rifle and enlist just like I chose to share my father's alchemy."

There was nothing Alphonse could say to that. He opened his mouth to speak but he stopped.

"What do I do now?" she asked suddenly.

"You move on, take each day a day at the time."

"I don't know who I am, how to be Riza Hawkeye," she confessed. "I'm a soldier and a sharp shooter. And if all that is done, then I don't know what I'll do."

"Mustang was Führer for quite a while," the young man pointed out. "You achieved your goal already. If you were only a soldier to make him Führer, then why did you continue on?"

"Our goal was always to make Amestris a democracy," she said. "He needed me to continue to protect him." She paused, a pained expression on her face. "I can't understand why they won't put me on trial too."

"You know why," he said gently. "They want the glory of being the ones that are responsible for putting away the Flame Alchemist. They don't care about his subordinates."

"No," she laughed bitterly. "I guess not."

Tears threatened to fall once again but she bit her lip.

"How do I go on, Al?" she asked quietly. "What's left for me now?"

He smiled sadly, "I think a wise man once told my brother to get up and walk even if the road you have to follow is covered in a river of mud. You just take it a day at a time."

Her voice trailed off and she felt her cheeks redden, she hadn't confessed as much to anyone before not even any of her female friends. She turned her face away from him, disconcerted by the amount of information she had given to the young man. She had carefully guarded her relationship with Roy from anyone, but it felt freeing to unburden herself for once. Of course, Alphonse knew quite a bit about grief in his young life and it pained her to lean on him comfort. She was being ridiculous. If the Elrics could get over losing their mother as children and keep it together, she would cope with losing Roy. With a new found determination to accompany that sense of dread in her belly, she vowed she would.

Alphonse stared at her, his eyes full of compassion. "You really love him don't you?"

She tore her eyes away from Al's knowing eyes.

"We were never together," she found herself confessing, "He asked me once a long time ago if I would wait for him and I told him I would. We just had too many important things to do to let ourselves just be happy. I think he thought I might quit once he became Führer, but I couldn't entrust his protection to anyone else." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I wish-"

He let out a little laugh and she turned back to him. There was a little smirk on his face, very reminiscent of his older brother, "We always guessed, thought maybe you were flouting the fraternisation laws."

She arched an eyebrow, "Who's we? The whole team or just you and Edward?"

"The team," he said with a mischievous grin.

She rolled her eyes, "And there were bets taken, I'm sure knowing the boys."

"Don't worry I'll keep them guessing," he said with a forced smile

"You better or I'll shoot you," she warned.

Alphonse stood up and offered her a hand. She took it gratefully and got to her feet.

"Thank you again, Alphonse," she said. "Thank you for being here, but I think I'm okay now. I think I need to run a bath."

The young man nodded and got to his feet. "I'll make you a sandwich and leave it in here for you."

As he stood in the doorway, she called out, "Alphonse!"

He turned around with a frown.

"Please, it's about time you just called me Riza." She gave him a hesitant smile, "I know I've told you often enough."

The young man shrugged, "I guess I should finally listen to you."

"You should get back to your family. I'm promise you I'll be fine. Besides, if you're worried about leaving me alone for too long, Rebecca and Black Hayate will be here soon. She's picking him up from the kennel on her way home from work."

With that he gave her a small nod, turned and left the room.

Riza tried to focus her thoughts as she entered her bathroom. It had felt good to unburden herself of some of her thoughts, emotions that she had kept close to her chest. Maybe she needed to break down before she build herself back up? She couldn't possible face the following week feeling like this. She needed to pull herself together. She couldn't let Roy see her this broken or the rest of the team for that matter; she was always the strong one, who kept the whole team on track. Roy sometimes told her she was the glue that kept things together. She couldn't let Roy down now when he needed her the most. She turned on the hot water tap and let the water run in the bath. The steam filled up the bathroom as she peeled off her clothes. For so long her sense of self had been wrapped up in Roy Mustang. It wasn't healthy; she knew it. But he was the first true friend she had, the first boy she had loved, the first to break her heart when he went away to join the military and the only person to whom she had entrusted her father's secrets. When her father's alchemy and Roy's talents were exploited in Ishbal and they both fell apart with the guilt, they helped put each other back together again. Since then she had vowed to protect him and help him achieve his goals. Her life had a purpose for so long and now she would be adrift without her compass. The bath was almost full now. She turned off the tap and dipped her finger into the water to make sure it was the right temperature. With a sigh she stepped into the warmth of her bath tub. Who am I now?

When Riza was finished in the bathroom, she felt somewhat calmer. Alphonse had left the sandwich as promised on the dresser by her bed and her stomach rumbled again at the thought of it. She hadn't eaten all day and she finally had her appetite back. She wandered into the bedroom and bent down to pick up the plate from her dresser.

Taking a bite from the sandwich, she opened the bedroom door and she stuck her head out.

"Alphonse," she called. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah." His voice came from the direction of the kitchen.

She hesitated for a moment, then she went into the living area and she found Alphonse sitting at the table, a cup of tea in his hands. He smiled warmly at her, and she ducked his gaze and examined her nails instead.

"I wasn't sure if you would still be here." She couldn't meet his eye, feeling suddenly embarrassed about her earlier behaviour.

"Tea? Coffee?" he asked.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" she asked trying for an airy tone.

He smiled bashfully, "The water's just boiled."

He made to get up, but she shook her head, "I think I can make my own tea." She put the plate with the remains of her sandwich down on the table and grabbed her favourite mug from the cupboard. Once she had made her tea, she sat down beside him. Her stomach rumbled again and she gratefully returned to her sandwich.

The doorbell rang.

"It's probably Rebecca and Black Hayate," she said and got to her feet.

"I should probably go and see how Brother and Winry are," Alphonse admitted and stood up also.

The pair of them made their way to the door. A little bark from the other side of the door indicated that she was right in her assumption. The moment the door was opened a black and white blur flew in and jumped up on Alphonse.

"Hi boy," Al crooned rubbing Black Hayate's head.

Despite, the unusual misbehaviour of her pet, she couldn't find it in herself to chide him.

Black Hayate got off Alphonse and rambled over to his mistress instead and licked her fingers, knowing better than to jump on her without invitation. She bent down and rubbed the dog's ears.

"Hi Riza," came the friendly voice of her friend. "Alphonse, what a surprise to see you here?"

"I was keeping Miss Hawkeye company," Alphonse replied. "I thought she could use a friend."

Riza reached out and patted his arm, "Thanks for everything, Alphonse. Say hi to Edward, May and Winry for me."

He nodded, "I will." He paused for a moment, then added, "I think Brother is taking this a lot harder that he is letting on. He has a lot more respect for Mustang than he would ever admit to." He smiled, "I better be going before May wonders where I am."

It was only when Alphonse walked out the door that Riza realised that Rebecca had a suitcase in her left hand.

Rebecca caught Riza's look of surprise and smirked, "Please tell me that your lumpy sofa is comfy."

"Becca, you don't have to."

Rebecca shook her head, "I'm not taking no for an answer and you should know by that I am as stubborn as hell."

"But what about Jean?"

"Jean's a big boy. Remember what we said back in the academy – sisters before guys."

Riza could feel her eyes welling up again and she blinked away the tears before they could fall.

"Jean's a big boy and right now he understands that you need me more. Besides, it's not as if I won't see the bastard."

Rebecca dropped her suitcase to the floor and threw an arm around her, "So, how about a nice cup of coffee or are you going to make me collapse with thirst?"

Riza tried for a smile, "How's Jean?"

"Really Riza, I don't know what I see in him sometimes. You won't believe what he did this time!"

Her heart filled with love with her friend as she bustled about the kitchenette listening to Rebecca begin the woeful tale of how she caught Jean drinking milk straight from the carton and for the first time that day she had a genuine reason to laugh.