Die with a Smile

by StarWritingBri

Summary:

"If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you
If the party was over and our time on Earth was through
I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile
If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you."

If things had gone differently for Roy and Riza on the Promised Day...

Notes:

First of all, this fic is FULLY completed. So no waiting for me to get it together. (I know, I'm proud of myself, too.)

Also MIND THE TAGS. Particularly, Main Character Death. It's in the tags, I'm warning you here: It. Is. Sad.

Take care of yourself because as much as I love sharing my writing, I don't want to ever have it be at the cost of someone's mental health.

Inspired by "Die with a Smile" by Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars, and thanks to my beta Lyn for catching the fact I switched tenses immediately and then correcting all of it. You're a real one.

Chapter 1: If the world was ending

Mustang hardly remembers racing towards her. His memory is starting, stopping, and shuttering as he tries to reach her in time. In time for what? She’s in his arms, and he suddenly realizes how out of his depth he is now. 

Her blood is everywhere. It’s a pool in the center of a transmutation circle that makes him want to give up the ability to use alchemy forever. His alchemy killed thousands in Ishval, and now her face and body are stained red because someone else wanted him to perform even more. Has he ever managed to do good with his alchemy, or has he slowly destroyed his life and others’ piece by piece with a cursed art? 

 His grip tightens around her, moving her away from the circle on the ground in hopes that it’ll force him to keep his promise to her. The Lieutenant ordered him to not perform human transmutation to save her, and he’ll be damned if he breaks a promise to her. The cost of that promise, however – he’s not sure if there will ever be a higher price to pay. He can’t bring himself to pay it, even if he doesn’t have a clue how to fix any of this. All he can do is try fruitlessly to order her. She always follows his orders when they’re reasonable. It’s one of the few things he can count on. What’s more reasonable than living, surviving, staying with him because he can’t do this without her?

“Stay with me, Lieutenant.” His voice sounds rough, hoarse from the shouting he’s already done. The growls that ripped from him like an animal at the Doctor’s threats, the casual disregard for his Lieutenant’s life. He’s never heard a sound like that come from him before, but he shoves the thought away because he knows if he doesn’t remain focused on the woman in his arms, the sounds that will come out of him will ruin him. 

She shifts in his arms, her face scrunched in pain. She’s putting herself through that to keep him from facing a fate similar to the Elric brothers. She is suffering so he won’t and it rips him up. He wants to tear at his own throat as if to give her his skin for a bandage. Equivalent exchange. 

His throat aches, and it infuriates him. It should be searing in pain, debilitating, so he’s forced to go through everything afflicting her. He can’t even comprehend how they reached this point. How could their plans have gone so far off track? He’d been uncertain of where the day would end, but he had refused to even allow his thoughts to drift to his Lieutenant being mortally wounded. He couldn’t bring himself to think of something so crushing. 

Mustang clenches his teeth. It feels like they want to start chattering – like the colder she gets, the colder he grows with her. “Don’t you dare die.” 

He wraps his arm around her torso to support her, to pull her closer to him than he’d normally ever dare, but it won’t be enough unless he can meld her into him. He wants to give his heart to her, so hers will keep beating. The arm around her feels every shuddering breath filling her lungs – some breaths too short while other times her chest hitches as if her body is already forgetting how to breathe. He wants to beg her to remember. 

“Please.”

It’s a plea and a prayer. She’s been the only religion he needed since he was a teen. Her constant presence at his side, more reassuring than anything he’d felt since his mother’s final hug when he’d been hardly old enough to remember the rest of the world around him. His air was choked like hers, a devastating mirror to two situations that weren’t equal, would never be equal. She is dying. Truly, physically dying. If her heart stops in his hands, he knows what’s left of his shrivelled, blackened soul will die with her. But he will keep breathing. 

Roy has never given any thought to how it’d feel to breathe knowing Riza Hawkeye has stopped. How could something so impossible ever cross his mind? The thought seems at odds with everything he knows about himself and the world. They live together. His breath is her breath. Nothing else in life makes sense if she isn’t with him.  

Hawkeye’s face twists in pain, and something inside him – the part that recognizes everything inside her innately, just as she recognizes everything about him without needing a word – can tell she is on an edge, close to toppling over. He thinks about what that will mean, about his promise to not save her when she still had a chance. How can he ever let her die or remain dead? He’ll give any toll to have her stay by his side. But, he knows there isn’t even a point in trying. Human transmutation can’t be done. Even as his entire chest tightens at the panic of losing Hawkeye, he knows that there will be no saving her by that route. After all, nothing will ever be of equal value to her life. 

He feels the puddle of blood surrounding them seeping into the legs of his uniform pants, sticking to his skin. His clothes will be covered in her, but in something he never wanted to take from her. She’s always been so willing to sacrifice herself for him, but no matter how often she’s insisted on guarding him, protecting him, he’s never allowed himself to believe that her life is somehow more expendable. Her life gives his a light that he won’t have without her. He has his goals; he knows that he needs to rebuild Ishval or die in the process. Those goals will push him forward regardless, but there will be no joy in a world without his Lieutenant. Any light, happiness, or hope for himself will be snuffed with her own life. Roy knows already that without her, he is destined to be a husk. 

Her breath rattles in his ears, and even though he is sure the battle likely raging around them should be loud, her pained movement of air is the only sound he can focus on. He hates it, and he craves it. Without it, she will be gone. With it, he is reminded of his inability to keep her safe again and again. Inhale. Exhale. Hitch. Inhale. Hitch. Exhale.

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

He waits.

He doesn’t breathe either, not in solidarity but in something deeper. He can’t bring himself to take a breath, his body refuses to as it waits for her. It’s the most natural thing in the world, the thing that their bodies know to do without hardly giving it a thought – breathing .

But there is nothing. 

Suddenly, his breath is coming out faster, only made more apparent by the lack of movement from her. He wants to scream at his own chest for forcing him to breathe at a time like this. It feels like a betrayal to keep air flowing through his lungs, and so much of it, when Riza has nothing. 

Nothing .

“Riza?” He hardly manages to choke out her name, but his skin prickles with the thought of addressing her by a title. His entire world has shuddered to a stop the moment she stilled. What use does he have for honorifics and regulations anymore? How could he have even used them before? He’s shouted countless cries of Lieutenant , but that is so far from all that could have rolled out of him. Has he trained himself so well to only give her title as blood seeped from her wound? Has he really not been able to think of a single other name he could give to her? His partner. His confidant. His love. His reason in all things. 

This is his Riza . This is his everything, and he can’t feel her breathing. He sees no rise or fall in her chest, feels nothing in his hands. 

“No, no, no,” he chants again and again. 

No one around is listening. Is anyone still around? He can’t take his eyes off her face. How can he take his eyes off her now? When will he see her again if not this moment? Roy refuses to entertain the thought of someone taking her away from him. She wasn’t safe in his arms, but he can’t let her go now. If she is taken from him now, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever hold her again. 

I can’t afford to lose you.

It’s hardly been an hour since those words left his mouth. He should have known better. He tempted fate, uttered the words in to the universe, telling it what he held most dear, so it’d know exactly what to take from him. Her blood is on his hands. Another casualty in his long list. The one he never could afford to lose. He thought he nearly had when she threatened to end her own life after ending his. He wanted to ensure something like that would never happen. The horror of a world without Riza Hawkeye had ripped him out of the vice grip his vengeance had placed him in. He would’ve done anything to keep Riza living with him. 

Now she’s gone, but he is still here. 

Tears drop onto her face, running down her cheeks as if they were her own. If she knew the state she’s left him in, would she cry as well? She cried for him when she thought Lust had killed him, and now he is returning the favor. There are no questions now as the droplets move from his face to hers. He refuses to belittle it and call it rain. Riza deserves his tears. His heart is crumbling in his chest, ripped and torn like his notes when his research isn’t proving fruitful, discarded, because what use does he have for it now? He doesn’t know what to do with a beating heart if it isn’t still beating for the person he’s loved for most of his life. 

Roy moves to press his forehead against hers. He breathes in, no longer smelling the light perfume she tends to use – only blood, gunpowder, and dirt. But it is still her . He is breathing her while he still can, but he misses, with an ache that leaves him gasping for air, her breath mingling with his own. How often have their foreheads been pressed together and they took in each other’s air? Never again, and that knowledge destroys him. The way the tears flow free, he wonders as he drowns in it if he will ever create flame again.

Roy starts trying to breathe again, the same way she once taught him to help with his aim when shooting a gun. Even at his insistence that she’d always be there for him, Riza wanted to ensure he was proficient as a marksman in his own right. He never reached her level of skill; it was in a league of its own, just like her. Sweet words couldn’t sway her, not when his safety was in danger. 

Evening his breath will bring him to himself.

Focusing on his breath will give him clarity.

Steadying his breath will give him aim.

His battle had been lost, but the day’s is still in full swing. She gave her life so that he could stay safe. She fought with every bit of dwindling strength to ensure that he didn’t lose sight of their goals on the large scale as well as for this day of reckoning. He hadn’t realized everything he’d be forced to reckon with himself that day, but as he forces himself to come back into his body, to listen to the voice inside him – her voice despite it being gone – he knows he can’t allow himself to fall apart when there is still work to do. He can’t shatter with his heart when she’d been focused on the end goal. 

She sacrificed herself so he wouldn’t be sacrificed. She offered her life so he wouldn’t have to pay the toll of human transmutation. Roy would give his eyes for hers to open. He would give his lungs so hers might fill once more. He’d give his heart, even though he already pledged it to her a long time ago. It would be worth it if she lived, but all of that is a moot point. She is gone, and the Earth spins on. 

He rests her on the ground even as every muscle, nerve, and cell in his body screams to remain latched on to her. She wouldn’t want him to cling to her when there is work to do. Even now, she is making sure he stays on the right path, making sure he gets his work done. She is amazing like that.

Roy makes sure she is placed with dignity, as much as he can afford on a dirt floor. She deserves much better and always has. He’ll find a better resting place for her once he’s done his part in battle. He won’t disappoint her.

Riza Hawkeye would not die in vain. 

Chapter 2: Nobody's promised tomorrow

Notes:

We love a weekly update! Thanks to my lovely beta and the comments so far 💜 I hope you all continue to enjoy.

The change is apparent from the moment Riza returns to some kind of consciousness. For so many years, she’s held some level of pain in her body. There’d be better days than others, and some days were absolute agony to get through, but the constants in her life are work, Roy, and pain. So, in the absence of all three, Riza immediately feels unsettled. She can’t remember a time when something didn’t ache in her joints, scars, or heart. 

Being without pain almost feels like she’s lost a limb, the way her body doesn’t know what to do without having to compensate for something wrong.

Riza blinks, letting her surroundings come back to her. She finds herself disoriented further when she isn’t lying on the ground as she expects to be but standing in an expanse of white. It isn’t entirely white, however, a slab – a door, perhaps? – stands like a foreboding obelisk. There are symbols etched into the ebony that Riza can’t decipher but feels drawn to all the same. 

“It’s your life.” 

She turns to a figure. It shares her height but is featureless aside from an overly large grin taking up its face. Riza remembers the Elrics talking about Truth. It’s a strange and menacing creature, playful but with a malice for those who dare play the God it claims to be. Riza knows she played God while in Ishval. She played with people's lives, taking them before their time, but this creature isn’t interested in that kind of inhumane act. In fact, Riza figures Truth must believe murder is a facet of human nature like loving or breathing – inevitable. It’s only concerned with alchemical blunders, which she never committed firsthand. 

“Am I supposed to be able to read it?” 

The creature shrugs. “You might have if you’d gone that route. You always had the ability to learn, to turn the potential etched in this stone into a door for all you could be. You could have been an alchemist. You never walked that path. Why?”

“I refused to allow alchemy to take over my life as it had my Father’s. I wouldn’t lock myself away in search of knowledge,” she answers simply. 

Truth nods. “So you did. Do you have regrets?” 

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” The creature doesn’t speak. “I know I haven’t done human transmutation; that would’ve been impossible. The only people I know who’ve seen you and lived to tell the tale opened a portal. I didn’t do that, so I must be dead.” 

“You’re correct.” 

Riza knows she should feel something about this. Fear. Horror. Anger. But the truth of the matter is that she’s been flirting with death throughout her life, waiting for the moment it would finally catch up with her. From the hunger pangs in her youth when funds were scarce and food even more so to the constant combat of Ishval and then to every bullet fired her way or attack flung at her while working day to day in the military – Riza always expected to die young whether it was in the line of duty or justice being served for her crimes. A pain settles in her chest knowing that justice won’t be served in the way she always planned, but dying for her country – dying for Roy – will never be a regret of hers. 

The events that led her to this moment are coming back to her in hazy fragments, as if they are the dream and this surreal world around her somehow is more real. Maybe that’s for the best. Riza remembers a lot of blood, blinding pain, and a cold, cold floor beneath her. However, she also remembers a spot of warmth at the end, a comfort. There had been arms around her, holding her like she was something precious – something he couldn’t lose.

His voice had been there too, but Riza can’t remember what he’d been saying. That is also likely for the best as whatever it was would have broken her heart. The knowledge he was there for her final moments might have drowned her in guilt had she been in a different state of mind. As it stands, all she feels is comfort at knowing he was there. Even at the worst moment of both their lives, he was still there. Or she thinks, at least. It might have been a way for her mind to comfort her body as she drifted, but if that is the case, she will live in her imaginary world where she was held by the love of her life as what remained of her own life seeped from her.

Riza looks up at Truth. “Now what?” 

“Yes?” 

“Am I going to hell? Am I supposed to stay here and contemplate my door? I don’t know what’s next.”

Truth smirks. “You always needed a plan, didn’t you? Something to do rather than sit and consider.” 

She should have expected something like this. She’s never dwelled on what came after death, aside from the torment and torture she deserves. Her life has been pushing forward their goals; before that, following orders from the military; and before that, taking care of her Father. She moved from place to place, focused on the external. 

Has she ever lived for herself? 

“Too late to be contemplating things like that now,” Truth comments. Somehow, the entity knowing her thoughts isn’t as unnerving as she might have expected. 

“So, I’m supposed to stay here, then?” 

Truth looks unamused. “Not forever. There’s someone you need to wait for.” 

Riza finally feels unnerved as if the unknown world around her has finally sank deep into her soul. There are too many unknowns around her, and that has slowly been creeping into her consciousness only to grab her by the neck and force her to reckon with it now. The grin stretching across Truth’s face suggests some sort of joke she hasn’t been let in on. In a way, the Truth says a lot about the way the world works. It’s uncaring about the hand you are given in life. It doesn’t care what your circumstances were and how you arrived in front of it. It only knows what was rather than how someone wished it’d be, what someone would have done if they’d had the whole picture like the Truth did. It knew everything, and judged you for it, but Riza had only been given the bare minimum of information, always watching as it unfurled around her, knowing more was always just out of her reach. 

She watches the thing in front of her, wondering how many of these thoughts are her own and how many it has pressed into her. Now that she’s dead, are her thoughts solely her own, or do they come with some universal wisdom – a Truth – she hasn’t been allowed to know while living and bumbling her way through life? 

Something tells her that Truth won’t reveal which is the actual truth in this scenario. 

“Go on and explore. There’s nowhere you can go in this place that I can’t find you,” Truth tells her. 

Riza is about to argue there is nothing here, but this is a realm beyond reality. The odds that just because she can’t see anything means there truly is nothing, are slim. Much like humans and the Truth itself, she imagines there is much more to this place than meets the eye. Even if there seems to be nowhere to hide, something simmers around her, like an entire universe teeming with possibilities. It’s equal parts intriguing and terrifying.

Without waiting for Truth to play a trick or change its mind, she begins walking in the first direction she feels pulled towards.

It’s disorienting to be in a world totally void of color, knowing she is dead only adds to the way the vast space expands and contracts around her. It seems, for a moment, that this liminal space is something enormous, never-ending, and then the next moment it’s suffocating her. Yet, she doesn’t need to breathe. Some part of her mind still expects that she might be killed at a moment’s notice.

The voice .

Truth’s voice is eerily similar to Pride’s, and even though this place is entirely void of any shadow in which he might hide – almost to a scientifically impossible degree – Riza has grown used to him stalking her every move, threatening to sink his claws into her with a single wrong move. Truth reminds her of the small homunculus who derived pleasure from seeing how far he might push her. 

But she is dead. Riza doesn’t think there’s a level beyond death. Something deep inside her has settled being in this place. It feels like her body – or maybe this is her soul? – knows that there can be no more threats. For the very first time in her life, she is beyond the scope of danger.

There’s no risk of her dying, it’s already happened. 

Riza wonders how the rest of the Promised Day might play out. She wasn’t much use against homunculi with only a gun, but she held up well against the Fuhrer candidates. Hopefully whoever she saw lurking above can keep Roy and Scar moving forward so they can fight against whatever larger plans were underway for that day. They’d known something was promised, but she hadn’t lived long enough to know why they needed all the sacrifices or the eclipse. Now, she never will. She also hopes Edward is okay since those hands that grabbed him seemed horribly similar to Pride’s shadowy hands wrapping around her. They took him to be a sacrifice, and they wanted that to be Roy’s fate as well. 

Roy . 

She hates leaving him like she did, no matter how rationally she knows that it wasn’t her choice. She held on for as long as she could, and she still hardly believes that she made it as long as she did. The phantom pain still echoes in her skin. If she tries hard enough, she can remember the dizziness from blood loss, the weight that seemed to settle on top of her body like a heavy quilt, and the way that her eyes burned with an effort to keep them open, watching him. 

Her last memories – the last thing she remembers seeing – was him. He was so beautifully anguished at the sight of her. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t worth the pain in his voice or his eyes. It’d be pointless. He loved her. She would have been a wreck in his place. She had been a wreck when she only thought he was dead. She can’t imagine their positions being flipped. She feels worse for him than she does for herself. 

Roy is strong enough to carry on, and Riza hopes with her memory fresh on his mind, he won’t turn down the same hate-filled path Maes’ death sent him on. It would be an insult to her memory to fight for vengeance alone, but she hopes he will still fight for the fate of their country. She can only hope she didn’t break him so horribly that he can’t go on at all. It’s hypocritical. In his shoes, she isn’t sure she could’ve moved on. 

With her thoughts traversing the nothingness with her, Riza finds it easy to lose herself in the what ifs and maybes of her situation. It startles her more than it should for a dead woman when she finally sees something in front of her. She pauses, dumbfounded and more than slightly concerned. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Notes:

Who's waiting for Riza? 👀Would love to hear your theories!

Chapter 3: Our love's the only war worth fighting for

Notes:

Okay, so that was longer than expected. Who's surprised? No one.

I hope to post the last 3 chapters weekly from now on, they're all ready to go, so that's good! We had some changing from past to present issues that I needed to fix (shout out to Lyn for catching those!!)

Anyways, enjoy!

His entire body feels ripped to shreds. He once tried helping Riza in their youth with preparing a meal. She’d given him a grater and some vegetables, and he’d taken that task to heart, wearing it like a badge of honor. However, with all his zeal, he sliced his hand, rubbing it down the sharp grooves before he realized what had happened. It left his skin oddly ripped apart, nothing like the scrapes he’d experienced as a child. 

This feeling consumes him, and Roy feels like he’ll lose his mind from the way every inch of skin, muscle, and sinew snap and squish back together grotesquely. He can’t even look at himself, unsure if there is anything to see in this haze of agony. 

In a way, this is the death he always knew he deserved, but even knowing that can’t save his mind from begging for anything to make it stop. How he even made it to this sort of end, he can’t remember. The only thing cognizant in his mind is that he is being torn. A small voice inside his chest yearns to acknowledge that this kind of pain had already been experienced on an emotional level that day, but he can’t address that thought yet. 

Roy’s senses slam together all at once, the pain disappearing almost as if it had never been there. His eyes haven’t even been closed, and he takes in the room of white around him. Room isn’t remotely the right word. It’s more of a space itself—neverending. It’s like the chamber where he faced Lust and Envy, only it expands forever. The other room had only been a poor imitation of this place.  

He turns to see a creature watching him – or, more accurately, the absence of a creature. It holds his own stature, but there’s no substance to it. It has something akin to a shadow, and yet, there’s nothing present to give it a shadow. The thing in front of him seems to know all these thoughts and more as they flood his mind. Without pain, it seems his mind is running on overdrive, reminding him of everything that he wasn’t able to remember just moments before. 

A blinding light. 

Little hands clenching his arms, holding him down.

The Fuhrer’s swords through his palms. 

Roy drops to his knees in this strange space, gasping for air that doesn’t sit right in his lungs. He isn’t sure if there actually is air in this place or if it’s as void of air as it is of anything else. Something looms behind him, but every fiber of his being screams not to look. Whatever stands behind him is unnatural. Down to his very core, Roy knows he isn’t meant to see whatever it is that repulsed him while simultaneously calling to him. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get any sort of control over the situation he literally just  materialized. His memories keep flickering to the moments that must have come before this. There’d been explaining. There’d been shouting. 

Roy had been consumed by a rage for a second time that should have frightened him. This time, it felt righteous. Fury isn’t strong enough. He could’ve been rabid at seeing… whose face? 

Bradley. Wrath. 

Pride. 

He’d never seen Pride before; he’d just known that the monster in a child’s body took glee in tormenting Riza.

Riza. 

Riza.

 She comes to his mind now. Her body had been off to the side of the battle – out of harm's way. She might have been just sleeping if it hadn’t been for all the blood that surrounded her and stained her clothes. They’d been on level ground once he’d been pinned down. He’d been too stupid, too weak, too useless to prevent Bradley from capturing him. 

Before the lights became too bright to see, he ensured that she was the last thing in his line of sight. If he’d been better, faster, stronger, he might have saved her. If he’d given in immediately, the outcome would have been the same for him, but she’d still be alive. Roy watched her, even as the pain jolted through his entire body – he watched her. The woman he loved. The woman he failed to protect.

The woman he failed so utterly and completely that this pain is deserved tenfold. 

Small arms, not unlike Pride’s, loop around his arms. That creature that stands in front of him is trying to pull him towards whatever his mind screams to avoid. He feels its intentions. He is certain of something nefarious he’s being dragged towards, just as he is certain this creature knows his every thought. 

“No!”

Roy’s voice reverberates around the room and also snuffs out instantly. It isn’t a command like someone might expect from a Colonel. It’s a plea. He’d been crying out in desperation because whatever this is, he can’t allow it to happen. Roy won’t allow it to happen.

The word has been stuck in his throat since the moment Riza died. It dug itself in even though Roy wants to scream it from the rooftops. It tears at every ridge lining his throat until he feels he’ll cough up blood, but only that single word comes. It is all encompassing. Everything he hopes to convey rested in that syllable, choked up like a black tar. It’s desperate and simpering, it’s a bark like the military dog he’s always been, and it’s the only thing he can spit as the hands pull at him. 

“No?” 

Roy looks up to see the creature cocking its head at him. The action makes him feel like a toddler that has spouted gibberish instead of a grown man with a simple request. It’s no longer smiling at him, and somehow that makes its entire presence even more unnatural. The grinning creature might be a monster threatening Roy, but when it won’t smile, when it questions his words, Roy doesn't know what to make of it anymore. 

“Do you know where you are, Colonel Roy Mustang?” it asks, and Roy shivers at how eerily similar it sounds to Pride. The imitation the Father created is uncannily similar to the real thing, and yet, Roy is infinitely more terrified of the creature in front of him than the one that had pinned him down like a rat to dissect. 

Roy swallows. “The portal, correct? The one that the Elric brothers and others who perform human transmutation end up?” 

“Correct.” It’s grinning again. “So, as an alchemist, you understand what that means, don’t you?” 

“I didn’t commit the taboo. I was forced.” 

“True, I do understand that,” it says. “But, you are here now, which means you shall learn the Truth and then pay a toll before I send you back. Don’t be too concerned. I will take your willingness into consideration when taking payment.”

Roy wishes he could reach into his chest and rip out his heart to make it stop beating so hard and fast. Instead, he gathers what courage he can muster. “I don’t want to see the Truth. I refuse to become a sacrifice.” 

The creature goes dead silent. The area is so void of sound, Roy wonders for a moment if it has decided to make him pay regardless, and that his price will be his hearing. 

“Do you know what it means to not complete the transmutation? Do you understand the ramifications of your denial to see Truth?” 

Roy doesn’t – not fully. 

“To exit the portal, you must see the Truth. If you do not, you die. You would survive the transmutation, unlike most who try. Would you give up your life? Would you refuse to see Truth?” 

He would.

When he started the day, his goal had been to save Amestris, take power, and survive. In such a short span of time, most of those plans had been thrown out of balance. He thought survival was a bare minimum goal for the day, but it has become something questionable. Riza hadn’t survived. If he returns, something will be taken from him, but he’s already lost her. His heart has been ripped from his chest before the portal could even consider taking it as a prize. 

If he goes back, he will be a sacrifice. Whatever plans the homunculi have been working on will still be in motion. He’ll play right into what they wanted, and all of this matters . Roy is sure that all of it should be influencing his decision, but the only point of any importance to him at this very moment is that if he goes back, Riza died for nothing. Roy will still be alive, the homunculi will have what they want, and Riza will be gone forever without her death being the sacrifice it was supposed to be for him to remain whole.

He promised that her death would not be meaningless. He refuses to lose her for nothing. He will not be a pawn in their game, and he will not sacrifice his queen and lose the game. 

“She is my Truth.”

The creature before him still refuses to smile, but Roy has the distinct impression he answered correctly. He knows that whether or not this thing agrees, this was the only decision Roy could ever live with — despite the decision heralding his death. There is no place for him in a world without Riza, especially when returning will only put everyone else at risk. He doesn’t even know what would’ve been taken from him, if continuing to fight would’ve been an option at all. If a limb would’ve been taken like Edward… he would’ve been worse than useless on a battlefield. This option, his choice to step away permanently, will ensure their enemies' plans won’t be fulfilled. It’s a sacrifice—even if only he will ever know that he made the choice not to complete the transmutation. 

“As you wish,” the thing says. 

As those words leave its mouth, it feels like a physical weight is taken off his body. He lifts himself to his knees instead of the collapsed position he’s been frozen in. Immediately, he notices his lack of uniform, and he’s certain he’d been dressed fully as he was in battle. Now he wears slacks and a button down shirt, his usual shoulder holsters are missing, but he supposes a deadman doesn’t need guns — Riza won’t know what to do with herself in that case. 

“A body is heavy, isn’t it?” Roy looks back at the creature. Truth. He isn’t sure if he remembered that from the Elric Brothers just now or if he knows it implicitly now that he’s dead. “I’ve returned it through the portal, but there will be no soul for them to use. That’s all you are now.” 

Roy looks at his hands. They’re bare, and he somehow knows his gloves won’t be on his person. The holes Wrath left when he pinned him aren’t there either, the pain not even a memory he can conjure. After some gentle probing, he realizes the scars from his fight with Lust are now gone, too.  He imagines the litany of them he’s collected from childhood and the military are all gone. How strange to have a soul untainted by the marks of his life; it’s his body that carried it all but that body is gone now. 

He doesn’t know what there is for him anymore. Is his punishment to spend the rest of eternity in nothingness, with only Truth staring at him? He doesn’t know. For the first time in his memory, his life has no trajectory. He doesn’t have a life anymore, so perhaps his death has no trajectory instead. He wants to ask where Riza ended up. Roy wants to be there, wherever there happens to be. 

In all his imaginings about going to Hell and suffering for eternity, he never considered a Hell without her by his side. Even if he never wanted her to suffer, something about them suffering together made death seem less frightening. They both believed death was inevitable, and it had been in the end. Roy just never thought they’d both find themselves at death’s door without standing side by side. 

“So, what now?”

Notes:

If you're still here, thank you! I hope you enjoyed 💜💜

Chapter 4: You and I had to say goodbye

Notes:

Look at me, keeping that weekly schedule! I have loved all your guesses to who Riza ran into, time for the big reveal!

Thanks, Lyn, for beta'ing!!

Riza feels true panic for the first time since dying. She’s been unsettled, concerned, and saddened by everything that led to this moment, but there’s been an eerie sort of calm placed over her. She hadn’t believed panic was something she could feel anymore. What need is there for fear when the worst that can happen to a person already has? 

“Alphonse, please,” she sounds close to begging even in her own ears. “What are you doing here?” 

The suit of armor stares at her, and she can sense Al inside it just as she had when living. It’s Alphonse, and she’s sure if her heart could still beat, it’d be hammering. It feels like it is regardless.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye?” the tinny voice asks, sounding equally scared. “W-what are you doing here? This…this is the portal of Truth!” 

“Please tell me you’re not dead, Alphonse. Please.” 

The armored boy takes a step back in shock. “ Dead? I’m not dead! I was pulled here again. I think I’m supposed to connect with…with my body.” 

Alphonse turns, and Riza follows the helmet’s angle, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight just behind him. It’s a boy with long, matted blonde hair, much too thin — thinner than Riza ever had been, even in a hard winter—and golden eyes that she’s seen before. She feels tears come to her eyes, choking her. She tries not to think about the last time Al had seen her cry, thinking Roy had died and Lust was planning to kill her, but the Promised Day has left her emotions raw and close to the surface. It’s an easy recipe for tears to come whether she wants them to or not. 

Riza looks at the suit of armor, then back at the body. “This…this is you, Alphonse?” 

“It is.” 

“Look at you,” she whispers, her voice thick as she feels the tears spill over. “You look so much like your brother. You look so grown up.” 

Riza can’t bring herself to move forward. She won’t risk whatever strange liminal space this is – where she gets the chance to see Alphonse – dissolving. Al’s body smiles at her in recognition, and Riza realizes she’s never seen Alphonse smile before because she’s never seen him before now. The brothers fought so hard to get their bodies back, and Riza will never physically see that, but somehow, she can see it now.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye,” Alphonse speaks again from the armor, “what are you doing here? How are you here? Are you…?”

Riza gives him a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry, Al. I am.” 

“No!” 

She hears the horror in his voice. It’s mirrored on his body’s face. She hates being another person for the Elric brothers to lose. With any luck, they won’t lose another person for a long time after the Promised Day—so long as they can win with her sacrifice. 

Riza remembers clearly the way Alphonse tried protecting her when they fought Lust. She can still hear the way his voice became desperate as he swore he wouldn’t let anyone else die if he could help it. In this instance, he couldn’t have done anything to save her, but Riza knows from experience that logic won’t win out. 

“It’s okay, Al. I promise it’s okay,” she whispers, being as gentle as she can manage. 

“I didn’t want to lose anyone else,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Riza places her hand on his metal arm. “No one ever wants to lose someone they care about. Otherwise, you didn’t care, and Alphonse, you care so much.” 

“Does…does brother know?” 

“I don’t think so. I imagine he’s either here somewhere, or he’s gone to wherever the portal that took him meant to take you. I was with him before that, however. He was okay then,” she tries to soothe him. It doesn’t seem to have the desired effect.

A sniffle comes from across the room, and Riza turns to see Al’s body, tears dripping down his face. “Brother will be so sad. We always looked up to you, Lieutenant.” 

“That’s somehow both comforting and heartbreaking to know,” Riza says, looking at the white ground. “I always cared a lot for the both of you. I wanted to see the day you got your bodies back, but I suppose this will be enough for me. I hope you’ll let Ed know how much I cared about him, too.” 

“Of course,” Alphonse sounds almost offended that she’d even ask it, like the thought Alphonse won’t let his brother know is an affront. 

Riza swallows, the memories of her last few moments swimming before her. She’s glad Edward hadn’t still been there. Roy had been terrible enough, hearing his shouts across the room, asking if she could hear him. Ed didn’t need to see her broken and bleeding, and he certainly didn’t need to hear Roy’s terror. She hopes Roy won’t lose the softness she’d seen forming around the boys, the little joys of teasing Ed and smiling at the brothers’ antics. She loved those little moments where she could almost imagine a different life with him, but she knows her death has the power to hollow the man she loves until he doesn’t know what to do other than chase his goals. 

“I tried holding on as long as I could,” she admits. 

Both Als look at her, and while she only can see the facial expressions from his physical body, she knows both versions of Al are radiating with concern. “What happened?” 

Riza releases a wry chuckle. “I want to say it’s best that you don’t know, but nothing stays secret for long. I apologize for laughing – it’s not a funny matter, truly. I just remember telling Roy off for not telling you or Ed about Maes’ death, and now I’m here not wanting to tell you about mine.” 

Alphonse nods, the helmet creaking. “I wasn’t mad at him for that like Brother was because Hughes was the Colonel’s best friend, aside from you. I bet it hurt him a lot.”

Riza’s throat feels tight. “It did.” 

“And now…”

“And now he’s lost me, too, yes.” 

Al stays silent for only a moment before whispering, “Does he know?” 

“Yes, he was…there for it.” Riza swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand quickly, hoping to hide the tears from Al. Something about being dead has made her awfully emotional. 

“Lieutenant – Riza, it’s okay to be sad. I’m really sad, and it wasn’t my life,” Alphonse says, and his voice is filled with all the emotion his armored body can’t display.  

“I didn’t want to leave so many hurt people behind.”

The truth strikes her hard. Her father had only two mourners present at his funeral. His daughter and his estranged former student. No one from the town cared and there was no one beyond. Riza hadn’t cried at his grave and neither had Roy. They’d both just gone through the motions of what a proper funeral should be. Riza thought back to Maes’ funeral and how much everyone had cried at the loss of a man that great. 

She never believed that would be her future, seeing as she expected to be executed for her crimes, but now… Will she be mourned for a life cut short? 

“I am sad, Riza, but I think it’s okay for people to be sad when they lose someone. It’s not something you should feel guilty about. You were loved.”

Riza smiles, even as her lips quiver. “You’ve always been so wise, Al. I would’ve been very interested to see how you’d be as an old man.” 

Alphonse sighs. “I could’ve said the same to you.” 

Riza pulls at the sleeve of her cardigan. She notices for the first time that she isn’t in the clothes she’d died in. She also isn’t covered in blood, which is a relief with Alphonse there. She knows she should tell him what happened to her, but she can’t bring herself to just yet. At least without her blood-soaked clothes, she doesn’t have to scare him as much as she could’ve. Instead, she’s in her favorite cardigan now, as soft as the day she first thrifted it, and her favorite skirt with a slit up the side so she’d have access to her holster – that is missing however. She supposes that when she can only interact with Truth or souls, there isn’t much space for bullets. She imagines she’ll feel on edge about that, but she only cares about Alphonse’s well being at the moment. Her guns have always been her way to protect against active threats; words are what she uses to help other issues—like the last time she’d sat down with Edward months ago.

“What happened, Riza?” 

She looks up at Al’s armor before looking at his body again. It feels surreal to see the expression on his wane face that she’s never had the opportunity to before. She now knows how his lips turn downward and the slight squint to his eyes when he’s sad. If she had survived, would she have had the chance to see this face fill out and grow older and healthier? It won’t do to dwell on the what-ifs but it fills her with a longing she hadn’t expected to feel in this state. 

“They tried to use me to get Roy to do human transmutation. They…wounded me. Left me to bleed out, in hopes that if they promised to save me, he would become one of their sacrifices.” 

Al sucks in a breath she knows he doesn’t actually need, something she can relate to now. “He didn’t do it?” 

“He would have. I know he would have, but I told him not to sacrifice everything. It would’ve played right into their plans, and I refused to be a pawn for them. They’d kept me hostage to keep him in line, I couldn’t let myself be a ploy again. I- I couldn’t let Roy lose himself like that. It would’ve destroyed me.” 

“You two really love each other, don’t you?” 

Riza nods. “We did. I wish I hadn’t left him like that.”

“He’d never blame you. I can just tell.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” 

Alphonse places a hand on the back of his head. “That’s understandable…I can’t argue with that one. I would blame myself, too, and so would Brother in his shoes.” 

“I would, too. I think there seems to be a lot of blame we like to carry. It’s hard not to when you really care about someone,” she admits. “I think I could even blame myself in this instance, for leaving myself open like that, for being wounded in a fight before this one, and a million other differences I could have made that may or may not have led me to this moment. 

“Nothing can be undone, however. Even you and your brother trying to get your bodies back isn’t going to the past to change something. You’re working on it now, moving forward. There’s no going back for you both, for me, and even Roy.” 

Alphonse nods. “You’re right, but it’s hard not to wish you could.”

Riza sighs. “It is. I think that wishing you could change something or bring someone back is just human. We love and when we lose, we want them back.”

“I’d want you back, and so will brother and the Colonel and I’m sure your whole team,” Al tells her, and she has to agree. 

It’s a pain and blessing to be loved by so many. The Elric Brothers. The Team. Rebecca. Even Grumman.

And Roy—always Roy.

“Alphonse?”

“Yes?”

Riza swallows, feeling her heart in her throat. She wonders if there will ever be a time she stops feeling like a human, that these different sensations that don’t make sense when dead but she feels regardless will cease to be felt. She doesn’t feel pain now, but she still feels discomfort, concern, worry, and plenty of negative emotions. Will those all disappear or are they something so intrinsic to being human that they surpass the physical body? 

None of that matters, she has something more important to do than questioning what her existence will be for the rest of eternity or however this works. 

“Would you make sure he’s okay?” His name sticks in her throat, so free flowing before now but suddenly a physical blockage unable to be forced into the world. “He’s going to… This will be hard, maybe impossible for him to overcome. Not in a sense of moving forward and continuing to reach his goals but in living . I- We- We’ve been together most of our lives, Alphonse – since we were just kids, and I can’t protect him anymore. It’s not right to ask you this, but I don’t know what else I can do from here. Even if you get the rest of the team to take care of him instead… I just need to know he’ll be cared for, watched over.”

Riza takes a shuddering breath, much like Al had done before. It fills her chest, but it does nothing more than that. “At the very least, could you remind him that I love him, that I’ll always love him, and that I’ll never regret loving him until my last breath?” 

She looks up at the armor, but Al isn’t focused on her anymore. His gaze is on something further off behind her. Riza turns, trying to see what distracted the boy. 

“Riza?”

Notes:

Okay, I think we ALL know who this is. Who's ready for a reunion?? 💜Thanks for reading!

Chapter 5

Notes:

The moment has arrived! Please enjoy 💙💙 I know I was emotional just writing it!

He spots her instantly. He knows the cardigan she has around her shoulders like it’s a staple in his own wardrobe. It feels like his heart has started racing, which is absurd given their situation, but if anyone can get his dead heart to beat, it’s Riza Hawkeye. 

His vision tunnels to her and her alone. Every fiber of his being screams her name, but in reality, he can only manage a whisper as she turns to him. Her honeyed eyes widen in confusion, but she is there . 

“Roy?” 

It is all he needed. 

Roy starts running towards her, even though the distance between them isn’t terrible. He needs to touch her, hold her, feel that she’s with him again that instant. Hardly any time has passed, but he wants nothing more than to have her in his arms again and hear her voice in his ear. 

They slam into each other in a tangle of limbs, and she feels so, so warm as his arms wrap as tightly around her as he can manage. If he could squeeze her into him so they could always be one, he would in that moment. He holds onto her as if the world around them will crumble if his grip loosens even a fraction. Roy clutches her like the universe will snatch her away once again if he gives it the chance. Never again will he give it the chance. 

Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he can hear the questions she’s asking him. What is happening? Why is he there? What does this mean? 

But his own words overpower her questions. “I lost you. I lost you. I never thought I’d hold you again. I’m sorry, Riza. I’m sorry my love. I’m sorry. You were gone. Gone.”

“I’m here,” she whispers. 

He feels the tears streaming down his face, and for one of the few times in his life, he doesn’t give a single damn about them. He cried when he was alive and she wasn’t; he’ll cry now too that he’s back with her. All Roy wants is to hold her in his arms for the rest of eternity, and he’ll tell Truth to go to hell if it tries to force him to let go of her. 

There’s one thing that would make him ease his grip, however, and as soon as he realizes it, he follows his train of thought. Roy pulls away, moving his arms from around her body to either side of her face, cupping it as gently as he could manage. Just moments ago, she’d been dead in his arms, limp and unresponsive. He’s seen how easy it is for a body to break thousands of times, but it was hers that broke him. 

Riza looks at him with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. He surges forward, unable to contain himself. The only thing better than holding her would be kissing her, and at that moment, he wants nothing more. She responds immediately with all the same desperation – likely having believed she’d be separated from him for longer and pleased to see him as well. Whatever the reason, kissing Riza when they are both just souls felt like more of a melding together than anything they’d done before. He’s lost himself in her before, but this sensation is something else entirely, a oneness so complete and all-encompassing that he truly feels like they are supposed to be one whole person and finally can be. 

He might have kissed her forever since breathing is no longer a requirement for him. He would have stayed connected to Riza forever and always, with nothing to stop them or pull them away once more. A slight cough like someone clearing their throat makes Riza break away from his lips, but she doesn’t pull out of his arms. Her fingers dig into his back – a silent plea to not let go either. 

“What are you doing here?” Riza asks him, still breathless. 

He sees the same questions in her eyes that he would’ve had in her position–has he done human transmutation in an attempt to save her? Her eyes beg him to answer, but just as he’s opening his mouth to put those worries to rest, he remembers the sound. It had been too human for Truth, and Roy turns to see Alphonse Elric.

His eyes widen. “Alphonse? What are you-”

“He’s fine. He went into a portal like Edward did when we were in that room. He’s alive. Roy. Why are you here?” She speaks slowly, a simmering anger gripping her words, being held in check by her always impressive self-restraint. 

She places her hand on his face, much less gentle than he’d been, pulling his face away from the armored boy back to her. The grip isn’t painful, but there’s strength in it. He wonders if she slaps him across the face for avoiding her questions, if it’d even hurt. Once Truth sent his body away, all the pain he’s been in had disappeared. Has hers disappeared too?

Roy wants to just marvel at her. He doesn’t want to think about how he failed her, or tell her how destroyed he’d been for the short time he lived without her. He wants to archive every inch of her skin, her voice, her expressions because he hadn’t appreciated it enough before. He’s always adored her, but when faced with a future where she wasn’t at his side, he realized just how much time he let pass without treasuring every detail about her. 

“I didn’t do human transmutation, I swear it,” he whispers, watching her shoulders relax. “Not by my choice.” 

The admission is bitter on his tongue, a berry eaten before it was ripe – like their lives. Roy knows he couldn’t be in this place with her – be with her again – without telling her the truth about his situation. They don’t lie to one another, and death would not pry that vow from him. He made it with his soul. He’ll tell Riza the truth for eternity, just the same as he’ll love her. 

“By…choice?” 

He looks away from her. “Wrath and Pride showed up. I tried to fight them, but my glove had been torn in the fight before… They pinned me to the floor, Pride absorbed that disgusting doctor to learn human transmutation, and they opened a portal to force me through.” 

Horror contorts her face, and for a moment Roy thinks maybe pain is possible in death. She looks pained, and that feels like a stab in the gut. She moves her hand from his face to his chest, as if checking for a heartbeat. 

She won’t find it, just like he won’t find hers. 

“Roy,” she whispers, and he feels the dam inside him, barely pieced together, flood out once again. 

“I didn’t even have a choice, and I had just lost you. You were gone, and the sacrifice you made to keep me on the right path suddenly meant nothing. I failed to keep you safe, and then I failed to protect myself,” he rambles. 

She uses one of her hands to wipe the tears off his cheeks, a useless gesture as they keep spilling. “Protecting you was my job. We both failed.” Riza takes a deep breath. “It was…nice of Truth to let us have this moment before you go back.” 

For a moment, her words don’t quite reach him. Go back? There is no going back for either of them. The decision had been made for her, and he made his choice after the enemy backed him into a corner – but she wouldn’t know that. She’s been here, speaking with Al. She probably expects him and Alphonse to return to the living together but as sacrifices. Truth is not just in its choices. Roy would have lived a life in agony without Riza, but he wouldn’t have a life at all if he stayed. Of course, he stayed.

“Riza,” he whispers, gripping her hand in his own. “There is no going back.”

“What do you mean?”

“I failed to stay alive, to keep moving forward with our plans, but I’d be damned a thousand times more than I already am if I ever let your sacrifice be for nothing.” He takes a deep, meaningless breath. “I chose to stay. I let the transmutation fail.”

Riza’s eyes widen, looking him over as if she just realized that he’s in civilian clothing. She isn’t in the same clothes she died in either – something he is immensely grateful for—and he no longer wears his uniform. They both know he had been wearing it to make his own statements for the Amestrian military and citizens throughout the day. He hadn’t deserted, he’d hoped to be the leader who stepped out of the ashes of the battle, but he’d been too cocky, as usual. 

She begins shaking her head, attempting to pull away from him, but he refuses to let her go. “You didn’t . You couldn’t . Why would you do that?” 

Roy steps closer to her, hands still holding fast. “Because if I was going to lose you, I sure as hell wasn’t going to play into their hands as well. They couldn’t take you from me and force me to become their pawn as well. My choice was clear from the moment I opened my eyes in this place.”

“You could’ve survived without me. You could’ve adapted to whatever Truth took from you and gone on to live a long life, achieving your goals. You could’ve,” she says. She radiates distress and anger in equal measures. 

He gives her a wry smile. “Or, I could know when to lose the battle and win the war. Without me, they don’t have a sacrifice. I was their final desperate attempt at having every soul they needed, and they failed. You sacrificed yourself so that I wouldn’t lose my humanity, wouldn’t throw away my own morals. And I decided that I wouldn’t throw away my humanity either. They would not make an example of me on the heels of your murder.”

“What if they need your help?” 

Roy laughs. “Fullmetal? I’m sure he’ll be full of enough righteous fury that not even a god could stand in his way.”

Riza’s head falls into his chest, and he suspects she’s crying as well. “I wanted you with me, but not like this. I would’ve waited for as long as it took for you to join me, even decades.”

“I know,” he says, resting his cheek against her forehead. “I would’ve done the same, but as you once told me: I’d follow you into hell . It’s always gone both ways.” 

She shakes her head, rubbing the soft hair against his face before pulling back. “You silly, silly man.” 

“No greater fool than a man in love,” he tells her, knowing that nothing about his decision had been foolish. He’ll lay down his life for her again in half a heartbeat. 

“I- I can’t believe you’re both gone…”

Roy turns, remembering Alphonse is there, witnessing their breakdown and reunion wrapped up into one with a bow on top.

Riza frowns. “I’m so sorry, Alphonse.” 

The armor shakes his head. “No. I don’t want an apology from either of you. You didn’t choose this, but the homunculi and their Father—they need to be brought down.” The boy looks to the other side of the room. “I can’t join you yet. I have to make things right. We have to use the opportunity that the Colonel and Lieutenant gave us.” 

Hearing their titles is almost jarring. His mind hasn’t even thought about those, they don’t feel natural. They’re like his body, stripped away. Now, his soul and Riza’s, they just exist without their past holding them to anything other than their innermost selves. 

Roy turns to see who Al is speaking to and feels his jaw drop. The boy only a few feet away couldn’t have been anyone else. Roy would know him anywhere without ever having seen him before, but this is the body of Alphonse Elric. This is the goal he’s watched those boys work towards for so long, watching him, Riza, and Al’s soul through sunken eyes and entirely too thin limbs. 

“Al, it’s…it’s you,” he says, unable to keep the awe out of his voice. “I’m seeing you.” 

“We both get to,” Riza responds, sounding proud. He feels it too, even if his own role in Alphonse getting his original body back is going to be minimal at best. He imagines this is something like watching your child walk for the first time. You’re not making their feet go, you’re not the one who's done it, but the fact they did is enough to feel pride. 

“I’m glad you did. I would’ve been really sad if you hadn’t,” Al admits. 

Riza’s brows raise, her mind working over something Roy missed. “You’re not going to take this opportunity to reconnect to your body. You’re going to go back as the armor again.” 

Alphonse nods. “Look at him…me. I can’t fight like that. I can’t help. You both gave your lives so we’d be able to win. Just like the Colonel wouldn’t let your sacrifice be for nothing, I won’t either. I’ll go back, fight, and win for you both and Hughes and everyone else. I’ll find a way to get my body back still, but not until I know that we’ve succeeded.” 

Roy chuckles, mostly to himself but also for the boy in front of him to hear. “You’re too selfless for your own good, Alphonse.”

“Says the one who literally died for us today,” he shoots back. 

Roy really can’t argue.

Riza steps away from him, and this time Roy lets her. He somehow just knows that this time she will come back to him. She moves towards Alphonse – their Alphonse – in his suit of armor. The soul that makes everyone fall in love with him. She places a hand on his metal forearm. 

“Don’t you dare follow us until you’re a wrinkled old man with every drop of life wrung out of you, alright?” 

Alphonse nods. “Yes, ma’am.” 

She turns, moving towards Al’s body, enfolding it in a hug. “And I hope when you return to this body – because you will return to it – you remember this feeling.” 

Roy walks up and joins her. “From both of us.” He claps one hand gently on Alphonse’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’m so proud to have known you and your brother, and to have watched you both become great young men.” 

Even with his hand on Al’s body, he looks between both. He wants his words to sink in for both the body and the soul that has been ripped away from it. Alphonse smiles at him and Riza, and Roy feels something tighten in his chest at seeing that expression on his face. 

“I’m going to miss both of you.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” Riza says, her own smile endlessly sad. 

Roy straightens, turning back to the Al that would return. “Now, you better make sure that brother of yours stays in line. You take care of him because I know he’ll take care of you.”

“I’ll take care of those I care about, and they’ll take care of the people they care about. I understand, Colonel,” Alphonse tells him, and Roy recognizes the words he’s said to Hughes, a philosophy that had been his life’s work, now coming from the next generation. The dreams Roy had would be made a reality—he can practically feel it. 

“Have a good life, Alphonse,” Roy says as arms begin to circle Al. He knows that he should have found this terrifying based on his own recent experience, but he already knows deep down that this isn’t Pride and Alphonse isn’t being dragged against his will.

He is going to live. 

“Your sacrifice won’t be in vain! I’ll make sure of it!” Alphonse cries out just as he is consumed. 

And then he’s gone. Only Roy and Riza remain, at each other’s side.

Notes:

They're together again, Al is off, and now one chapter left to wrap it all up 💙 Thank you for reading!

Notes:

I'd like to say it gets better, but I've had it pointed out that my gauge for angst vs fluffy is very, very skewed. So, tune in for the next one to see if I'm right or horribly wrong? Scream with (at?) me in the meantime 🖤