I do not own the copyright to Fullmetal Alchemist.

This is an alternate universe story that considers what could have happened if Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye had been romantically involved before Roy went to Ishval, and how their lives might have been different as a result.

It takes place before the series starts, but parallels the flashbacks in Episode 30 (Brotherhood anime) and Chapters 58-61 (manga), and contains spoilers for them.

Chapter 1: Waystation

The latest group of casualties had come in. Dr. Sara Rockbell tucked her long blonde hair into a ponytail and got to work.

She and her husband Urey had set up their clinic in an abandoned warehouse, a relic of an old trading route, in a pocket of scrub forest on the western edge of the Ishval desert. Since then, Ishvalan wounded had trickled in steadily from the war zone to the east. The language barrier made it difficult for the doctors to find out exactly what was happening, but it was clear from the injuries they were treating that the war between the Amestrian military and the Ishvalan rebels was a brutal one. The bits and pieces they were able to communicate through the two Ishvalan boys who worked as their assistants confirmed that fact.

Today's casualties were not as serious, just a border town skirmish far from the main conflict, which had caught a few civilians in the crossfire. Most of the injuries were broken bones caused by a military vehicle that had lost control and driven into an outdoor market. Sara and Urey, each in a makeshift exam room blocked off with sheets, divided the patients between them.

Sara was surprised to see an Amestrian girl among the Ishvalans. No, not really a girl; a young woman of maybe 20. She was a bit of a tomboy, with short blonde hair, dressed in a pullover sweater and pants. She appeared to have three broken ribs on her left side, but Sara was having trouble treating her because she did not want to take her sweater off.

Was it modesty? No, something else. She was genuinely nervous. "If I do this, will you give me your word not to tell anyone what you've seen?" she asked quietly. Her brown eyes were earnest, serious. "I give you my word," said Sara. "I'm a doctor. I took an oath to respect my patients' privacy." The girl swallowed and nodded, and gingerly began to pull up her sweater. Sara helped her remove it.

It wasn't difficult to tell what she'd been hiding. Her back was almost entirely covered with a large, intricate tattoo, an alchemy design of some kind. The amount of needlework it must have taken to imprint that image, what a long and painful process it must have been…Sara knew she shouldn't ask any questions, but her curiosity got the better of her. "You're an alchemist?" she asked as she began taping up the broken ribs.

"My father was. I didn't inherit his ability." Her voice held no emotion.

So the father had done this to his daughter…for what possible purpose? Sara didn't ask any more questions. Alchemists! The only one she had ever known personally, a neighbor in her hometown, had deserted his wife and two young sons. Were they all such terrible fathers?

She finished her work, and carefully helped the girl put her sweater back on. "These are going to take several weeks to heal completely. You can move around if you're careful, but you should rest as much as possible." She led her over to a cot and helped her lay down.

The broken ribs must have been very painful, but throughout the whole process, the girl hadn't flinched once. She's used to pain, Sara thought sadly. "What's your name?" she asked. "Riza," the girl answered.

There was some commotion in the clinic's waiting area. "Dr. Rockbell," a man's voice was saying, "the military has given you more than enough time. Your activities here must cease immediately."

Sara hurried out into the waiting area, joining her husband, who was being addressed by two soldiers. Their guns were on prominent display: rifles slung over their backs, pistols in holsters on their hips. A silent show of force. "This is a civilian medical operation," Urey replied indignantly. "We're Amestrian citizens. The military has no right to interfere. You can threaten us as much as you like, but we're still not going anywhere."

This had become a weekly routine. The soldiers blustered, the doctors refused to back down, and the soldiers left. But the presence of the military always upset the Ishvalan patients, most of whom had suffered injuries at the hands of men just like these.

"You are providing aid and comfort to the enemy," continued the one who had been speaking, a captain. He spoke with the air of a man who was following orders; how willingly, Sara could not guess. "The military's tolerance will not continue indefinitely. We cannot guarantee your safety if you remain." He turned and walked out of the clinic, his partner following after him.

"Here we go again," Sara chuckled ruefully, and reached up to brush a lock of light brown hair out of Urey's eyes. He grinned at her. "Our life as outlaws," he said, and kissed her forehead. She suspected that he was as worried about the military's threats as she was, but neither wanted to admit it.

"Hey, is that your patient?" asked Urey, looking over her shoulder. Sara turned in time to see the blonde girl—Riza—hurrying out the door. "Hey!" called Sara, following her outside. "You're supposed to be resting!"

Riza paid her no attention. "Wait!" she called to the soldiers. "Are you heading to the Ishvalan front?" The captain turned and nodded, surprised at the question.

"Will you take me with you?" she asked.

"Of course not!" he bristled. "We can't take a civilian to the front!"

"Then can you deliver a message?"

"Um—I suppose so." He seemed taken aback by the whole exchange. "Who's it for?"

"Major Roy Mustang. He's a State Alchemist." The soldier stared at her. "Do you know him?" she asked.

"I know of him," the captain said carefully. "Everyone does. What's your message?"

"Tell him that Riza Hawkeye is coming to find him. He'll know who I am." She aimed a determined gaze at him, as if daring him not to believe her.

The captain nodded slowly. "All right," he said. "I'll pass on your message." He and the other soldier climbed into their truck and pulled away, scattering gravel under their wheels as they drove off.

"Riza," said Sara sharply. "You need to come back to bed now." The girl turned back toward her, looking suddenly older, exhaustion tugging at the corners of her eyes and mouth. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was important."

Sara knew she shouldn't ask any more questions, but once again curiosity overtook her. "So, you know this State Alchemist person?" she asked as she guided her patient back into the clinic.

"He's my boyfriend," said Riza. She ran her fingers through her short hair. "Something's happened to him. I need to find him."

The Ishvalan patients were still upset after the visit from the military, and the words "State Alchemist" had made a few sit up and take particular notice. They had seen Riza talking with the soldiers, and now some of them were beginning to whisper and glare in a way that made Sara nervous. She steered the girl toward a cot in the farthest corner of the clinic, away from the other patients. Riza sat down wearily.

"You can't really be serious about travelling to the front," said Sara.

"I am." Her voice was determined. She looked up at Sara, and her eyes were those of a girl who had endured a thousand jabs of a needle, who bore broken bones without flinching. "I am going to find him. No matter what."