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They didn’t see the other car coming, and for a moment it’s like everything moves in slow motion.
The other car crashes toward the driver’s side of the car where Mustang is driving. The hood creaks first before the windshield shatters -- glass flies everywhere. Hawkeye can feel the shards as they slice across her face and parts of her arms where she’s raised them to protect herself. She glances at Mustang whose body is in a similar position, reaching for her before realizing he needs to protect himself.
But their car doesn’t stop moving. Instead, the metal machine lurches and flips over, landing the vehicle on its roof. It shakes a bit, threatening to roll over again but rather settles.
Riza’s neck hurts. Her whole body hurts. And for a moment nothing feels real like she’s watching from a distance. She’s not completely unused to the feeling; after Ishval her brain decided that sometimes, life is happening and she is just a passenger along for the ride. She smells smoke. A small engine fire has already started. Sirens wail in the distance.
She blinks and coughs and attempts to lift herself up out of the vehicle. She’s close to the window and with some effort, she could climb through and out. It takes a moment: she can hardly breathe. But once she manages to get herself out she looks for the Colonel. She doesn’t hear movement and her vision still feels blurry from the impact. Her chest hurts. Probably broke a few ribs.
“Colonel!” she shouts. Her voice is croaky and weak. “Colonel!” She’s still practically laying on the ground, but she looks through the wreckage to spot her superior officer. He’s pinned beneath the seat and the steering wheel, blood gushing out of his temple, clearly unconscious.
“Colonel, please!” She tries to move whatever wreckage she can in order to better get to him, crawling toward the other side of the car. But she can’t reach him. Hot, burning tears streak down her face. She has to save him. She couldn’t protect him during the Promised Day. They both somehow survived that. It can’t end this way. She always knew she would die in action. At this point, Hawkeye had already accepted that fact. But the Colonel? He’d live to become Fuhrer and retire of old age. That’s what she wanted for him, at least. And seeing him lying limp inside the car reminds her of what happened on the Promised Day: watching Bradley overpower him, his cry of pain as Bradley’s swords pierced his hands. How powerless she felt just sitting in Darius’s arms, unable to stand behind him and protect him. (He always leaves his back wide open. It’s a symbol of his trust: he trusts that she will be there and trusts that she can and will defend him.)
She remembers the agony she felt watching him as he was forced to perform human transmutation, the way his body dissolved into nothingness and the uncertainty of whether or not he was alive. And she loves him. She loves him and here he is, almost lost completely to her. It’s not a sudden or shocking realization but rather a slow build up of years to this point. This point. She can’t let him die. She can’t, she...
Her vision goes blurry as she calls out for the Colonel more, but it’s no use. Her strength is failing her and she’s run out of options. She feels her body being lifted onto a stretcher, people asking her if she’s okay and checking on her.
“The Colonel,” she says weakly, reaching her hand out toward him.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure he’s okay,” says one of the doctors. With the (likely false, she imagines) reassurance, Riza’s vision fades into nothingness as she drifts back into unconsciousness.
Roy wakes in the hospital. He groans. Everything hurts. His eyes snap open: The Lieutenant. He panics for a moment before realizing that she’s in the chair next to him, one of her arms in a sling and her eyes closely watching him. She has several stitches on her upper lip and a variety of other scrapes and bruises.
“Hey.” His voice doesn’t sound familiar to him. It’s weak and quiet, almost strained coming out of his throat.
“Sir!” There’s panic and worry in her eyes, and a hint of redness around them makes him wonder if she’d been crying. Ordinarily he’d tease her about crying over him but this doesn’t feel like the right time.
Roy swallows. “You look like shit.” Fucking nailed it. He sees a pained smile cross her lips and some of the stress drops from her shoulders.
“Speak for yourself,” she says. “I’m glad you’re alive. The doctors were worried for a second.”
Did they use alchemy on him? Or maybe alkahestry? It’s a possibility but his brain can’t quite process everything yet. Oh. He realizes he probably has a serious concussion.
“What happened?”
Riza looks away for a second. “I fell unconscious shortly after the doctors arrived, but I also woke up sooner than you did. They tell me…” she trails off for a moment, her panic at the memory rising. She suppresses it for at least another minute. “They tell me that the other car was completely empty. Which makes me think it was an assassination attempt and not just a random accident. The car hit us, not the other way around.”
“Alchemy,” says Roy. “They probably launched it with alchemy.”
Hawkeye stares out the window. “Odds are, news has already reached them that we both survived. I’m certain they’ll be back to finish the job tonight.”
“So you have a plan, then?” he asks.
“I have a plan and a gun. We’ll be just fine.” She pats her hip where he can see the slight outline of her pistol. Even though they’re both injured and in pretty rough shape, he knows he can count on her to make sure they live through the night. And if he knows Hawkeye at all, the rest of his team will be there to make sure the culprits are caught.
And sure enough, once the hospital gets quiet things get interesting. Riza stands and listens to the activity in the hallway which has all but come to a standstill. Two figures sleep in the beds. One of them actually is Mustang himself, and the other well. Volunteered for the position. Suddenly, footsteps.
“Look just be careful of Mustang’s dog, I hear she’s a real --” The assassin doesn’t get to finish that sentence before Hawkeye springs into action. She may only have one arm she can use, but a well timed kick and her enemy’s momentum does a lot. She has him shoved against the wall, gun to his temple.
“I am nobody’s dog, and no one knows that more than Colonel Mustang himself. I am, however, a bitch with a gun to your head,” she snarls, flipping the safety off. The assassin’s partner raises his gun at them but the figure in Riza’s bed snaps up, shotgun aimed at the other assassin.
Once Havoc has his gun pointed, a number of military police step out of the shadows to surround the assassins.
“Take them alive, I want to know who they work for,” barks Mustang. “Havoc, why the hell are you wearing a blonde wig? Didn’t the Lieutenant tell you that you don’t need it?”
Sure enough, Havoc is wearing a long blonde wig that almost looks like Hawkeye, if Hawkeye didn’t have her bangs, five o’clock shadow, and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. He just shrugs. “It’s not every day that I get to pretend to be the Lieutenant for a sting.” He pretends to aim his gun. “I’m Lieutenant Hawkeye and I’m a total badass. I kick ass and take names and I’m the most competent person here.”
“Are you supposed to be making fun of me with that because I’m only hearing compliments.”
Havoc grins, stands up, and then in a ridiculously overdone high pitched voice says, “Oh Colonel I love you! I’d go to the ends of the earth for you.” He dramatically drapes himself over Mustang’s bed.
Riza stifles a laugh in favor of an extremely pointed glare.
Mustang coughs. “Havoc, you’re fired.”