Acknowledgement: As usual, my fantastic beta Bookwrm389 who goes above and beyond the call of duty. I don't know what I did to deserve you but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. XD And to everyone who has taken the time to read, review, favoritize or add this story to your alerts, thank you so much. I was so nervous when starting out and thought no one would be interested in reading another "royai child" story. So thanks for proving me wrong guys!

A Note on Maes' Condition: It's come to my attention that some people missed out why Maes was in the hospital in the first place. So, the technical description of what Maes was suffering from is an aneurysm in the cerebral artery. It was hours away from rupturing when Riza brought him to the hospital where the doctors had to put him in a medically induced coma to operate on him. And while the procedure itself was a success, the boy didn't wake up – as briefly explained in chapter three.

There are many causes for an aneurysm to develop but I chose to run with it being genetic. There's very little you can do to prevent this kind of stuff from happening and it's nobody's fault. I didn't include all the technical jargon because the illness itself was never central to the story. What Hurts The Most was supposed to showcase major themes such as guilt, loss, PTSD and disordered thinking and those I think I managed to drive in proper. ;)

It takes Maes' death to turn Hawkeye back into Riza in his mind.

Plain old Riza, who was never plain to start with. The little girl who spoke quietly when she did at all and did far too much around the house for her age. The little girl who actively hid from people in the recesses of the old estate she shared with her father and his apprentice. The girl who was so shocked by her father's death, she was incapable of doing anything but watching as Roy made the funeral arrangements.

And once again, that is exactly what she does. Riza watches, as if from a far distance, as he makes the arrangements for their son's funeral, the only thing he will ever be able to do for the boy he never had the chance to meet.

Surprisingly, he isn't angry anymore. He has realized that anger requires too much energy to sustain it. And right now he needs all of his resources to keep himself and Riza from falling. They're not standing right now, per se, but they're on their feet, holding on to each other in their grief and sorrow. And he needs to make sure they stay up. He has let her down before, and he will not be able to live with himself if he lets her down again. For the first time in his life, he has been given something as valuable as Riza herself – an opportunity to be her pillar.

The service is small, a few people gathered around the grave where little Maes lies. Someone says a few words, but he doesn't know who. Riza says nothing at all. She hasn't said much since the boy died, and it's all right. Painful as it may be, he knows the procedure here. She will withdraw into herself, and then it will be up to him to find her again, to teach her how to talk and smile and live. He has done it all before, during and after Ishval, and it's something he's familiar with. That is the only thing he's going to concentrate on now, making her better.

They drive home after the service, and he moves into the basement without hesitation. There are only two bedrooms in the house, and the second one will always belong to Maes. Maybe it's chivalry, maybe it's because he's afraid to be so close to her, but he doesn't venture into her room. Not when he feels lonely, not when the hard couch presses knots into his back, not even when he hears her crying upstairs.

She, for her part, doesn't ask him to leave. She doesn't insist he stay either, but she doesn't turn away his company. And even when they don't talk, she gravitates towards him as if unsure of where else to go. They were like that when they were younger, drawn to each other simply because they had nowhere else to be. It isn't physical attraction, it is simply an attraction, the feeling of hanging on to the one thing in the world that is familiar no matter how much it hurts.

During the day, the house is quiet. His laughable attempts at housekeeping do nothing to open the lines of communication. His insistence that she eats are met with quiet submission, and his unspoken questions are answered with equally unspoken words. Luckily, they have never needed words.

After a month, she goes back to work. He tries telling her that she should stay at home, and she listens, but does it anyway. He wonders if she's ready for him to leave her and go back to the border, if she will be able to look after herself. Then realizes that he isn't ready to leave her. A few days later, he suggests a trip to the Cretan border for the both of them. She doesn't reply, but he takes it as a yes, and they set out to finish his work three days later.

And she cries through it all. Every night, without fail, he hears her sobbing for the son they've lost.

After…

Days have a way of turning into weeks and weeks into months. And soon those months become a year. A whole year since you were a mother, a year since you had a little boy who called you "Mummy" twenty times a day for reasons as mundane as, "Look what I found" to as serious as, "When will I be as tall as Uncle Jean?"

It still hurts, and a part of you is sure that it always will. But another part is learning to see that perhaps you aren't the only one hurting. That perhaps you've hurt enough to start to heal, even if just a little bit at a time.

Nine months have passed since you arrived at the border for what was supposed to have been a three-week trip. Somehow, it has extended into almost a year, and sometime during that year, you learned that you could live. At first you cried alone. For weeks and weeks, you continued to mourn, and when your tears finally ran dry, you realized that there was another just as miserable as you, no better at hiding it than you have been so far. And finally, you reached out to the broken man you lived with, reasoning that since you have always shared everything with him, why should misery be any different?

And finally, in a world where nothing made sense anymore, he did. His arms around your shoulders, his soft breath brushing you skin… His touch bought a semblance of sanity back into your life, and you know it has done the same for him. You felt all the years slipping away as he held you just like he did after your father's death, just as he did after Ishval. That special space in his arms where your body just fits still exists, though you haven't occupied it in years.

For the first time in months, you went to sleep not thinking of Maes. Even if you felt terribly guilty in the morning for betraying his memory.

You glance at the man sleeping beside you, his breathing far from peaceful, pure exhaustion lining his face. It was a difficult day at work, and as usual, he had not wanted to tell you why, making you realize how much things have changed this time around. So you took his hand gently, asking him to let you in with your eyes, and he submitted, his whole frame sagging in relief. He talked of the treaty between Amestris and Creta, solidifying every day as the lands that are now ready for planting are allocated to the farmers on the border. You nodded and found it felt good to talk of something you were once so occupied with. You found yourself responding, even probing for more information.

Living without your son had seemed unfeasible after his death, and yet here you are, still alive. And you owe it to Maes to make use of that life. Hadn't you told Maes you had something to do?

The next day, you tell him perhaps it's time to head back. There are still many things to do, and almost a decade later is better than never. He is unsure at first, but agrees.

The ceremony is a quiet affair with only a few witnesses. The bride and groom sign the matrimonial papers and kiss each other softly to seal their vows. To a stranger, it would seem a cold wedding, but the witnesses gathered there know the couple has promised to share everything. Grief, pain, memories, and whatever the future brings.

The congratulations are quiet, punctuated by a joke or two of "about time". The groom smiles, and the bride nods, yet both of them look exactly the same. It's always been uncanny how they mirror each other even when looking so different. Finally, the man takes his wife's arm and leads her out of the office, and everyone watches them leave, pretending not to notice that there should have been a little boy present at the ceremony too. There's no point bringing up someone who hasn't been forgotten in the first place. And they all have work to do. General Mustang's old unit has been reinstated – with the sole exception of Maria Ross acting as his aide because his wife can't – and soon, everyone is going to be busy again.

So they take their time, watching the couple walk out into the tentative sunshine.

What hurts the most,

was being so close,

and having so much to say

and watching you walk away.

And never knowing,

what could have been.

And not seeing that loving you,

is what I was trying to do.

"Remember Maes, I love you very, very much. And so does you father," he hears her say through the silence. It's dark here, but it's light too. Maes doesn't know how, but he can see the light. And something behind the light, something person-shaped.

It's Mummy's voice, he would know it anywhere. Because she is the bestest Mummy in the whole world. No one sounds like his Mummy, no one smells like her. No one is as great as Maes' Mummy.

But he won't miss her because she says she'll see him soon. And he knows he will. He doesn't know how, but he knows Mummy is going to be okay. His Daddy is there now, she said so. And Daddy will look after her almost as good as Maes always did. So he isn't worried. He knows his Mummy will be all right.

"I love you too, Mummy" he says happily, and then goes to see what's going on in the light.

End Note: Here it is, the story in its entirety. Again I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this fan fiction. Your support really kept me going, so let me know what you think. I always love hearing from you.

Upcoming Projects: FMA Big Bang, waiting for Maryh10000 to update The Highest Value, getting some down time in before my residency starts, catching up with Naruto and lurking in the Song of Ice and Fire fandom (have already made a start there XD).