Work Text:
Roy Mustang is gone.
She sobbed quietly into her pillow. The man of her dreams, the man she will kill for, the man she will die for, the man who made her feel like the most important person, the most gorgeous woman. THAT MAN WAS GONE.
They were playing husband and wife, while the Fullmetal alchemist played as their son. They dyed Ed’s hair black and made him wear brown eye lenses. They were succeeding in their mission.
She sobbed harder, her right hand ghosting the abandoned pillow beside her on the king-sized bed, where her lover was sleeping for on for past week.
Her commanding officer loved his youngest subordinate.
He loved him to the point of hugging him and shielding him in a shooting at a damn grocery store.
He loved him like a lion loves their cup, a dog loving his pup. That man was the teen’s dad and everyone knew that.
The lace of her black toptank scratched her white skin as she cried harder and more aggressively into the mattress, her red shorts felt sticky when her thighs made contact with the silky material.
The long sun hair of hers got stuck in her sweat and tears, few of them even were in her mouth as she cried for a man’s cold unanswering body that lay in a cold room down in a foreign hospital, under a blue sheet eyes closed to come and save her from her misery.
And if she could just pretend, if she can just look past the purple lips and showing veins, she almost could see him sleeping soundly just like the many times she caught him in his private office. But no. No No NO THAT WAS NOT THE CASE!
Because Roy was gone. Roy will never be able to to send her get well soon cards, Roy will never be able to get on one knee in front of her, He will never get the chance to have a child with her.
He was her other half, the one that made her sane and alive.
He was her young as she was his yang.
He was her best friend, her true love, her partner.
She kept gripping the sheets in sorrow, if only- if only she was with them instead of napping. If only she gave Roy one of her guns. If only she convinced to go there at night.
But she knows that the IFs will make it harder for her to breathe.
At some point, Riza’s cries stopped, and her breathing evened out to some hiccups and sniffs, but otherwise calm. her face relaxed and her head was the blank page of pitch black.
Her bed felt empty.
Usually, her bed was always accompanied by something or someone. In her early childhood, one or both of her parents, when she grew older, her dolls and plushies filled the empty space. And when she was a young adult, a sniper or a shotgun. Now as an adult, black Hayate and a small gun are under her pillow.
But this past week. This past week, her bed had Roy. Roy who pulled her to his chest and grumbled about paperwork in his sleep, Roy who made her feel the safest she could be.
He had his handsewn gloves stashed right up on his nightstand, the upper drawer. He told her to let him take care of her, just for once.
Ha! Look where her carelessness took them!
She snapped up suddenly from her unhappy, empty daze when her door creaked and mismatched uneven footsteps stopped in front of the ledge of the door before stepping in and closing the door. The owner of the mismatched legs threw something on the floor- a soft thud, a pillow.
Riza raised herself, and with her red-rimmed honey eyes, she saw the younger blond on the wooden ground his back to hers, his hair was in a neat braid, and unlike her, he seemed to be doing a lot better.
She wanted to ask him if he was doing okay, but her voice seemed to be stopped working, and her lips forgot how to form themselves to say the name ‘ Ed.’ because they went to shape themselves into the ‘R’ sound, readying to believe that the whole accident was just a nasty nightmare and that her husband actually came back home.
But it wasn't, and she knew that. It was a living nightmare, another burden she has to learn to live through without her rock in this strong river of life.
She opened her dry lips again, hoping she’ll be able to call the teen in front of her, but she couldn't.
She felt helpless.
But, thankfully, the teen seemed to finally notice her being awake as he turned around slowly, his face was blank as well.
His beautiful, unusual sea of gold eyes met her brown chocolaty eyes. Edward’s eyes could be described like the sun's rays on an early morning, or perhaps a late sunset, on a meadow of white daisies that took the sun’s colors as dresses for the petals, all fighting to stand out and shine, just like a million starts that were light in the young eyes.
These aren't her words, she would never be this talented or have strong words that could empower and sway the listener. They belonged to the Flame Colonel himself, who once stood up for the teen when someone made fun of his unusual gold hair and eyes, and his white skin.
Ed looked like a special piece that belonged in a mysterious city made of gold. Hidden away from the evil hands, protected with his knowledge, and only being accessible when he wanted to be found.
Again, Mustang’s words, not hers.
“ Edward.”
“ Mom.”
They were at their shared home, Ed didn't have to call her Mom- he only called her Hawkeye or Lieutenant and Mom in public, just to keep the appearance of their makde-up family.
All of course for the mission.
But something, that looked like a fire dying under the heavy falls of an unforgiving rain, was in his dim eyes.
Edward was so much like Roy it stings.
Maybe it was the black hair that was pulled into a ponytail, hidden away from her eyes tricking her to think he had short hair, maybe how his bangs framed his face, MAYBE because Edward was looking a lot like Roy because Ed was a breathing replica Of Roy himself.
She broke down crying as she opened her arms lovingly at him.
The boy dashed immediately and hugged her, burying his head into the Croke of her neck and simply crying his heart out, he kept saying he never meant to get attached, how he never wantedto to view her or Roy Like his parents, he never wanted to have another set of parents that will leave him all of a sudden.
Edward kept talking into her shoulder about how he was thankful to Mustang, that he never meant being mean, and that he loved that man with his whole damn heart.
He said that having black hair and wearing crisp clothes, made him look like a Mustang and that this mission and having the privilege to call them ‘ Mom’ and ‘Dad’ was the best thing ever.
He said he was sorry that he didn't protect Roy.
He said he was sorry that he couldn't keep Roy with them.
He said he was sorry he acted like a child and grasped into Roy’s denim jacket instead of moving them elsewhere.
It’s when Ed’s cries turned into hysterical screams of pure anguish pain, he kept telling her ‘ fix it, Mom! You are the Hawk’s eyes! You can help save Dad’s ass. So please fix what I did wrong.’
It honestly broke her heart to see her son cry like that, soaking her shoulder and pillows with his salty tears. She didn't stop him, she didn't tell him to quit. She knew- she knew that Edward will not cry tomorrow.
He won't cry when he goes back and tell his brother. He won't cry when they bury their falling commander 6 feet under.
And so, she allowed herself to cry alongside with him. It was her own way of expressing her love and support to him. Soon though, she will hold him like a mother would.
She will stand solid and strong for him just as a rock would.
It took them a while to stop crying and just be there in the moment. With each other.
Somehow it is now early morning and the sun was shining through the curtains. Riza’s face was calm but sadness colored her features making her look 30 years older.
Her son was snuggled close to her, now finally being able to sleep a bit before she has to wake him up to start their eventful, long, sad day.
But as she breathed, she pulled Edward just a bit closer. Now that the King is dead, the Queen and the Prince have to move forward with their leader’s dreams.
And fuck it, Riza will make sure Edward arrives at the President King’s chair and make Roy proud of them both.
Or her name won't be Riza Hawkeye.