Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Fateful Abyss ❯ Four ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, Square Enix, Funimation, and others who are not me.

"…so, the coroner was able to identify the man through his dental records. He was definitely former military."

Riza pursed her lips thoughtfully as Roy matter-of-factly recited the Investigations Department's findings on the sniper. Former military. Now that pissed her off even more.

Her gaze wandered somewhat aimlessly over the bouquet of red roses sitting on the table beside her hospital bed. Of course the flowers were gorgeous — the color a deep blood red, the thorns removed for safety, the leaves large and green and perfectly spaced. Roy Mustang was an expert at giving a woman flowers. Glancing back at him just as he finished speaking, she couldn't help the small, almost wry smile that stole over her features. Everything had returned to normal; Roy's handsome face was once again proficiently secured behind the assuaging layers of camouflage, an air of calm and confidence swirling about him as was his usual custom. It bothered her far less now than it once had; she had grown quite used to his way of doing things over the years.

"He's lucky to have escaped my retribution," she said flatly, frowning with displeasure.

"I hardly think being burned to death can be characterized as 'lucky'," Roy countered with an amused arch of his brow. Even so, Riza could see the inner turmoil that lay behind his facade, perhaps only because she already knew it to be there. For all the flashy bravado of the renowned Flame Alchemist, Roy truly despised killing with his special forte. The sniper had barricaded himself so well within the clock tower, however, that only the General's signature flames had been able bring him down — along with the entire clock tower, unfortunately.

Investigations was fairly certain the man had been acting alone, though no one had been able to discover the reason for the attack. However, the words 'crazy' and 'lunatic' were being bandied about rather readily through the ranks. Whatever the motive behind the assault, it would do little to cool her anger toward the man.

"Well, that's all we know at the moment," he said, rising to his feet. "Be sure to get your rest, Major. We are practically helpless at the office without you."

Now that she could believe.

"I will, sir," she returned with a nod.

After he had gone, Riza sighed and relaxed into the large stack of pillows behind her. It was at times like this that she found herself really missing her dog. Black Hayate was probably one of her closest companions, which was actually quite pathetic when she thought about it. She hoped Fury was taking proper care of him. If not, she would —

"Major Hawkeye?"

Startled out of her reverie, Riza turned toward the speaker, blinking in surprise. A smile involuntarily spread across her cheeks, warmth and pleasure welling up within.

"Edward! You're up and about already?"

Grinning at her brightly, Ed stepped further into the room looking wondrously healthy. "Yeah. Armstrong managed to retrieve my automail from the well, so I got the leg back on this morning. I'll have to go back home to get the arm repaired though."

"As I recall, I was supposed to try and intercede with your mechanic," she said in a slightly teasing manner.

Edward laughed. "Don't worry about me and Winry's wrench, it seems I have a pretty hard head." He touched the back of his head lightly, yet meaningfully, then laughed again.

"You're feeling all right, then?"

"Yeah," he said. "They actually released me today. I'm not at a hundred percent yet, but I should heal up fine in the next couple weeks. They've given me a nice, long medical leave, too."

"The General can be generous when he wants to be."

At that, Ed snorted and rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, that guy is egoism personified."

Chuckling softly, Riza just shook her head.

"You know it's true," he said with a shrug, then eased himself carefully down into the chair beside her bed. "So, how are you doing?"

"Not as well as you, it seems," she returned dryly. "I find that extraordinarily unfair."

"Heh, sorry about that," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I guess that is pretty unfair. Especially since… well…" Slowly, his grin faded into oblivion, his eyes clouding over with a dark, dismal culpability. Riza had seen that look on Ed's face far too many times not to recognize that a vast overabundance of guilt was currently torturing him. His gaze danced shamefully away.

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help to you," he apologized quietly, his fingers digging into the arm of the chair. "I can't believe how you managed to…" He paused, his head lowering, long bangs obscuring his visage. "I… thank you. If you hadn't… I mean, you saved my life."

The corners of Riza's mouth turned down in a small, reflexive frown as she silently contemplated Edward's veiled countenance. Not much help? Was he actually serious?

"Just returning the favor," she said, her tone deliberately light and modulated. "You do realize that neither one of us would be alive if not for you. If you hadn't brought us down there. If you hadn't alchemized the water."

Fierce eyes leapt out from the enshrouding curtain of gold. "But you're the one who— If you hadn't— You shouldn't have had to carry me! You were more injured than I was!"

"That isn't how I remember it," she returned brusquely. "As I said, I was just returning the favor. You saved me, carried me, first."

"But—"

"This isn't a competition, Edward," she snapped, eyeing him pointedly. "You did everything that you could, of that I have no doubt. And for that I thank you. Thank you for saving my life."

His mouth opened, as if to argue with her further, but then closed just as abruptly. However, his expression remained somber and troubled. He stared at her for several long moments, a wide variety of deep, conflicting emotions flickering chaotically behind his eyes, rising, escalating, overpowering, until it seemed as if his small, sinewy frame could no longer contain them all. His human leg bounced unconsciously on the ball of his foot as his anxiety mounted, then finally propelled him out of the chair. For a second, Riza thought he was going to bolt, he appeared so highly agitated, but he merely paced a few random steps, as if craving motion. Then he halted, his hand clenching tightly into a fist.

"When I finally woke up down there," he began, apprehension suffusing his voice, "it was already dark. I couldn't see anything, and my head was all jumbled; it took me a while to remember where I was… what had happened. Then, all I could think was that I had to get us out, get you out, but I had already failed. I knew if I tried again I wouldn't be able to sustain the transmutation… I wouldn't be able to get you out. Not that way, anyway. I know you were angry when I transmuted the water. But I had thought about it a long time before you woke. There wasn't anything else I could do. I just couldn't—" He paused a moment, choking a bit on the words. "I just couldn't let you die," he went on thickly. "I had to do something. I never expected you to… that you would…"

"Edward," she broke in softly, impulsively, reaching a hand out to him, "come here."

His eyes blinked at her owlishly in surprise, cautiously vacillating, but then he stepped closer, laying one tentative, trembling palm across her own. Her fingers closed around his hand and gently drew him down, her arms winding around his neck to pull him close. Releasing a tiny sigh of relief, her lashes fell shut as his body came to a warm rest against hers. And it suddenly occurred to her that she had been wanting to do just that since the moment he walked in the room.

Hesitating but a few seconds more, Edward finally sank into her, shuddering violently, his only arm twining around her back to hold her tight. A low, strangled sound warbled in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder.

Riza just held him, wordlessly breathing in his clean, masculine scent, allowing it to drift sweetly through her nostrils and soothe her own lingering anxiety. Her fingers absently caressed him, easing gently over hard, cloth-covered ridges of metal and flesh as they moved over his back and shoulders, gliding over the soft, silken strands of his ponytail.

"You did just what you were supposed to do, Edward," she murmured into his ear. "You lived. That was all I asked you to do."

Another small, muffled sound escaped him, though one of agreement or further denial she could not discern. So she simply held him, quietly enjoying the warm, pleasing serenity that his presence within her arms engendered. To have him there, safe and alive and well, filled her heart with a joy that was startling in its intensity. And holding him so close felt almost too good.

Her head turned as if by itself, her mouth skimming along the side of his cheek, her lips coming to a halt at his temple, pressing lightly through the feather-softness of his hair. And as she drew back from him with eyes blinking rapidly in abrupt astonishment, she became aware of an overwhelming urge to resume that kiss, to trace her lips over Ed's handsome face and explore his every feature. Inhaling a sharp, mind-rousing breath, Riza forced her arms to release him.

As Edward slowly leaned back from her, wide gold eyes instantly sought her own, a cavernous abyss of turbulent, shifting emotions roiling in their depths. His lips parted as if to speak, yet doubt and bewilderment held him oppressively in check. Then his cheeks flushed scarlet and his gaze was lost, his eyes averting to peer awkwardly, sightlessly, out the window.

"Well," he said, self-consciously clearing his throat, "I should really get going. My train's leaving in a few hours and I still have to pack and stuff."

When he glanced back, his visage was once again smiling, though the smile seemed unnatural, constrained, and overly bright. Then he slid off the bed, attempting to look unruffled and nonchalant as he rose to his feet, yet for Riza, penetrating Ed's poorly-constructed veneer was all too easy. She had been working for a veritable master of deception for years now. Yet she said nothing as he slowly pivoted and headed for the door.

He turned back a moment upon reaching the doorway. "You get better, too," he said, a spark of genuine warmth kindling once more in his eyes, "and take a nice, relaxing break… no matter how bad Mustang whines that he needs you. The lazy bastard will just have to learn to cope."

"Easy for you to say," she returned tartly, falling rather effortlessly into the lighthearted banter. "You're not the one who will have to deal with the cluttered mess he's going to make of the files."

Ed chuckled softly. "True… but it's going to be a mess no matter what. You might as well enjoy the time you have off." There was a pause, small, nearly insignificant, yet Riza was almost painfully aware of it. "I'll see you when I get back," he said finally, his voice strangely subdued. And then he was gone.

Sighing heavily, Riza let her head drop back onto the pillow, her lids closing wearily over troubled eyes. Oh, hell…

Edward.

Edward.

Just when she thought her life couldn't get any weirder.

What was she going to do with him?

The responses that leapt to mind at that question made her cheeks burn. Edward was over ten years her junior, for heaven's sake! He was young, artless, inexperienced…

…strong, scintillating, forthright…

…brilliant, beautiful, wise beyond his years…

…oh, hell.

That look in his eyes had not helped one bit, either. Who did he think he was, looking at her like that? With that… that… yearning. It made her want to… to… oh, hell.

Her palms rose to her face, quickly covering it as the skin beneath flared red with heat once again.

Edward…

What was she going to do with him?

It would be several weeks before he returned to Central. She had until then to make a decision.

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