A/N: This has a couple of little edits, mainly some ages and some verb changes. I hope you enjoy!

It was the little things that made getting through this whole mess of a war easier. Hughes had his letters from Gracia that kept coming every day, and his desire to get home to her. He believed in their love with every fiber of his being. Hawkeye said she took comfort from things like the sunrise and the sunset. She said that she loved the way the sun hit the desert and made the whole sky look like fire. She said she felt swallowed in it, and in those moments, she felt peace.

Roy? Roy didn't know what he had. He didn't want to die. Hughes had said that once, when Roy asked him why he kept fighting. It made sense. Sometimes that was the only way to keep fighting - just to focus on surviving. But Hughes was different. He wasn't the one setting fire to entire buildings, entire villages. He was systematically killing so many and it hurt him. He felt like a monster. He was a monster. These people didn't deserve this. Now it felt like the only thing that kept him going was the desire to survive in order to create change.

"Cen for your thoughts, sir?" Roy looked up. Hawkeye was looking over the ledge of the wall where she was stationed as guard for the night. Roy smiled.

"Am I that obvious when I think?"

"You looked lost."

"I guess I was. Lost in daydreams."

"It's 0530 hours, sir."

"...early morning dreams?"

"Accepted," and her head disappeared back over the ledge.

Roy smirked and walked over to the ladder. If he was being honest with himself, she was the entire reason he had decided to come over this way. He had woken up about an hour ago from another nightmare and knew he'd never be able to go back to sleep. He'd decided to take a walk to clear his mind, and in the back of it he knew that the beautiful woman, who always seemed to know what he was thinking before he did, was stationed on the East Wall. And so that was where his feet had taken him.

The young alchemist climbed up the ladder and found himself on top of the wall, staring out into the night. Hawkeye surveyed him as he walked over and sat down next to her, both of their backs now pressed against the side of the narrow walkway. She looked directly at him now, her eyes narrowed and her mouth a thin line. She was trying to read him.

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not. Nightmares?" Damnit. How was she so good at this? She used to be able to do the same thing when they were teenagers. Even after the time spent apart from each other, he was still an open book to her. There was no point in lying. Roy sighed.

"Every night. The worst is that, even in my dreams I can smell it." Hawkeye didn't ask what "it" was. She knew. She sighed and turned back to the desert beyond the wall.

"I wish I could tell it wasn't real. That it was just a nightmare. That monsters are make believe."

"I wish you could, too."

She snorted out a laugh and rested her head on the back wall.

"Who would have ever guessed that we would become the monsters?" Riza asked quietly. Her eyebrows knitted together and she frowned, but continued.

"I joined the military because I believed in your dream. Because I wanted to help this country. To help you." Roy was taken aback. They had been out here together for 6 months and she hadn't said a word about why she had joined. She glanced over at him.

"Do you still believe in your dream, sir?" Roy looked out over the wall, into the desert, and up at the stars. He was quiet for a moment, trying to find the words. Finally he turned his head back to her and into the stare of those dark amber eyes.

"I think I have to. Otherwise, what the hell am I doing? If I stay in the military, I can rise through the ranks. I can create change. I can help this country. I can't do that as a civilian. I have to see this through to the end. If anything..." Roy paused. He looked away from her. He felt the same foolishness that he'd felt when he'd first told her his dream, back at her father's grave.

"If anything, the situation here has only made my dream stronger. More focused." He turned back to her and was surprised to find her smiling. He frowned.

"What?" Hawkeye's smile grew, but remained closed. She rested her head again on the wall, gazing back out in the night.

"I'm just glad to hear that, Major." Roy followed her lead, turning his eyes out into the darkness as well. He couldn't see nearly as well as her, but he had no desire to leave. Hawkeye was a comfort. She always had been. After a few moments of silence, a yawn escaped her lips.

"When was the last time you got actual sleep, Hawkeye?" She rolled her eyes.

"About 7 months ago." Roy had no argument.

"Okay, within the context of this camp. When was the last time you slept?"

She thought for a moment. "Around 31 hours ago."

"HAWKEYE!" She ducked her head.

"Shush!" she hissed.

"Sorry," he whispered, though with no less vehemence. "But 31 hours?! You're going to be completely useless."

"Says the man who can't go outside on cloudy days." Roy frowned.

"Okay, point to you. But my point remains." Riza sighed and leaned her head back.

"You're not the only one with nightmares." Roy had no response to that. Instead he took her hand in his and rubbed it, the contact sending a silent shiver up both of their spines that neither acknowledged. Riza looked at their hands, then up at his dark eyes.

"You should get some sleep."

"I'm on duty."

"I'm up here. I'll keep watch. Just stay here and close your eyes. You have to rest." She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off.

"That's an ORDER, cadet." Riza closed her mouth and glared at him.

"Fine. But I won't sleep. I'll just rest my eyes. You see anything, you shake me."

"Understood," Roy nodded.

Riza closed her eyes and leaned back, resting her head on the short wall. Roy continued to hold her hand, rubbing it gently. He was surprised she was letting him touch her this much. Since they had found each other here, their touches had been mostly accidental. Small brushes as they walked, that sort of thing. He kept his eyes out to the desert, scanning it for signs of life. After a few minutes he felt something hit his shoulder. He turned and grinned. Hawkeye was definitely asleep. Her head had fallen onto his shoulder in her slumber, and she was completely out.

'She looks beautiful,' Roy thought. Now he definitely couldn't move. He wouldn't break off this contact for anything in the world. Roy watched her sleep for a second longer, then remembered he was supposed to be keeping watch. He tore his eyes away from her face and back out at the endless expanse of desert. She shifted slightly and her hair tickled his neck. He smiled again, in spite of himself.

Had it always been like this? She had been 12 when they met, a child to his old man age of 14. Then for four years while he studied, he had watched her blossom into a beautiful, incredible woman, capable of taking care of an entire household by herself while her father descended into madness. Then he came back from the Academy and he was astounded by how strong, how smart, how calm and resolute she was. Even upon showing him her back, she had been profound in her purpose, trusting him completely. Riza Hawkeye had been his rock at 12 years old as he tried to learn alchemy, his guide at 17 when she had given him the secrets of flame alchemy, and here she was, 20 years old and he was still deriving so much comfort just from her presence. How could someone who looked so delicate be made of wrought iron steel on the inside? And how could he pretend that he didn't love that very aspect of her? That somewhere along the way, whether it had been at 14 when he had first seen her, or 18 when he had learned from her, or 22 with her head on his shoulder, asleep in the middle of a pointless war, he had fallen for this combination of calm and storm? Roy didn't know the answer. All he knew was that it had happened sometime, somewhere, and he didn't mind. As always with her, he was comforted by the thought. Riza Hawkeye had his heart. He knew it was safe with her. He knew HE was safe with her.

Roy continued to watch the dark desert stretching before him, straining his eyes without moving any other muscle, wanting to ensure that no movement of his caused her to wake up early. If rest was all he could give her, so be it.

Time crept forward and Roy began to see tendrils of light coming over the horizon. 'Sunrise,' he thought. Her shift would be over in a couple of hours. He remembered how she had said how much she loved sunrises, how she found peace in them. She wouldn't want to miss this. He took his other hand and gently stroked the side of her face.

"Hawkeye? Hawkeye, wake up."

A smile played across Roy's mouth as he watched her eyelids flutter open. "Mmm?"

He took his hand away as she sleepily pulled herself off his shoulder, then her eyes widened.

"I fell asleep! I...I didn't..." Roy brought his hand up again, this time to calm her down.

"Hush, it's fine. I told you to get some rest remember? It was an order."

"Yes...yes sir."

"And nothing bad happened. I was a good guard dog."

"I never doubted you for a moment, sir."

"Good. Now relax. The sun's rising." Roy gestured out to the horizon. Riza looked out over the desert as the light slowly began its crawl upwards.

"So it is."

"We made it another night."

"So we did." She cast her amber eyes into his onyx ones.

"Why did you wake me up, sir, if you wanted me to sleep?" He looked down, feeling slightly sheepish.

"You told me you like sunrises. That they get you through each day. I didn't want you to miss this one." Riza smiled, a gentle curve of the lips that would have been nothing but a ghost to those who knew her. But to Roy it was brighter than the sun that was beginning to peek out over the desert.

"Thank you, sir. I do like sunrises. They give me hope." At that sentence he cocked his head, searching her eyes.

"How so?" Riza frowned, her turn now to search for words.

"Every day, that sun rises and sets. Every single day. Time continues to march forward, no matter what we do. Every single day ends, and every single day begins. But for every person that I kill, their sun sets. They don't get their sunrise. So I watch it. I watch every single one. For them. I watch to recognize the passage of time and to be grateful for my own survival. I watch to atone for all the lives I took this sunrise from." Roy was flabbergasted.

"That...doesn't sound very hopeful." Riza gave him that ghost smile again.

"The hope comes from knowing that as time moves forward, everything ends, including this war. One day I'll get to see the sun rise again and not be surrounded by sand but by a city. And hopefully," she nudged him, "by the time this dream that I also believe in finally comes true, I'll be able to feel that I may have slightly atoned for all the sunrises that these innocent people have missed along the way."

Roy could feel his mouth hanging open as she eloquently described her feelings. His heart ached for her. Every morning she woke up and watched the sun rise and thought about each person that she had killed. The only way he could cope every day was by shoving them out of his mind, by refusing to acknowledge it until the night when his nightmares plagued him. But she recognized each person and each sin, allowing it to inform her desire for repentance. He was right. She truly was wrought of steel. And he loved her.

He reached up a hand and touched her face. She did not shy away from his touch. Riza had just bared a piece of her soul to him. The least he could do was show her that it was in good hands. Roy swallowed.

"Permission to act in a manner unbecoming of a superior officer?" Riza reached her own hand up to touch his on her face. She hesitated, casting her eyes down, but just as quickly as they left his face they came back, resting on his onyx eyes. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Permission granted," and the words had barely left her lips when Roy pressed his own upon them. They moved together, lips parting and tongues meeting, her reaching into his hair as the kiss deepened, him pressing a hand on her back as the other stayed on her face, his thumb stroking her jaw. Finally they separated, breathless. They pulled apart from each other but still remained slightly intwined, his hand again coming to rest on top of hers. Riza once again allowed her head to rest on his shoulder as they gazed out across the Ishvalan desert, watching the light creep across the sand. They would get out of this together. They would atone together.

After that, not a sunrise went by during the war that Roy did not watch with her. It was the little things.