Recoil

Prologue

When a gun is fired, there is a recoil. This is when the gun 'springs back' to its original position. Sometimes, this recoil can be very strong, but the effect on the user depends on the strength of both the user and the gun. However, even the strongest person can fall back when hit with the recoil.

What time is it? The clock reads 2:56 am. This is the eighth time I've woken up screaming in my bed, sweat dampening my brow. I keep having the same dream; running, screaming, a gunshot, and blood everywhere. So much blood. There's no way one man can bleed so much. There just isn't. But he does. He bleeds and bleeds and there doesn't seem to be an end to it. Why? How can one man bleed so much?

Riza Hawkeye walked into work that morning with dark circles under her eyes, and a tired look to replace the cold, unfeeling facade she usually wore. Yet she walked into the Eastern Headquarters building at seven thirty as she did every morning. She walked to Roy Mustang's office and opened the locked door with her key; he was late as usual. In her hands she carried the paper work for the both of them that she had picked up on her way to the office. Her hair, which was down contrary to being imprisoned behind the pin she usually wore, swished from side to side with each step she took. She walked to Roy's desk and set down his stack of papers and sighed. Why couldn't that man be on time for work just once? She then walked to her own desk, on the wall adjacent from his, and set her papers down, pulling out a standing mirror from the top drawer of her desk.

She quietly fixed her hair, pulling out her hairpin from the pocket of her military slacks and pulling it up with a comb, which was also extracted previously from her pocket. In a few minutes, her hair was up to its usual perfect position, and the dark circles under her eyes disappeared with the use of a little make-up. She sighed and sat in her chair after putting away her grooming utensils. What a night it had been.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," the taisa's voice said from the door. His hair was perfect, as usual, and his cold dark eyes held the sort of sparkle she always found in his smirk.

"Good morning, Sir," she said, standing and saluting.

"You don't look well," Roy commented as he walked to his desk. His smirk had fallen, drooping into a concentrated and almost sorrowful look.

"I haven't been sleeping to well lately, Sir," she replied cautiously, sitting back in her chair.

"I see. And what might be the cause of this unrest?" he asked casually, sitting in his own chair.

"Disturbing dreams," she said quietly, looking at her desk.

"I see. Well, just keep in mind that dreams aren't real, but the may sometimes be a cry for help. Or a warning."

"Yes Sir."

The rest of the day carried on as usual, although Roy and a few other subordinates made comments on Riza's appearance and otherwise exhausted demeanor. She continued to tell them that she was fine, that all she needed was a good night's sleep. Later, when Roy left from work, he asked Riza to accompany him. Embarrassed, but anxious to talk to him, she accepted and followed next to him as he led her down the main road towards his home.

Not more than five minutes after leaving the building, gunshots rang throughout the street and bullets ricocheted past Roy and Riza. Instinctively, Riza drew her gun and searched for her target, while Roy slipped on his glove. Another shot and Roy ran to the left, down an alley.

"There!" he shouted.

Riza followed frantically, her mind racing. Screams from Roy and their assailants traveled between the alleys, bouncing off the walls.

Suddenly, Riza stopped. She couldn't find Roy anywhere. Then she saw him, dodging the bullets and hand-to-hand attacks of another assailant.

"Shoot him!" Roy shouted when he glanced at Riza for a brief second.

Riza aimed and fired. The man ducked, and Roy gasped as the bullet tore through his chest. He fell to the ground, and the assailants ran.

"Roy! No, Roy!" Riza shouted, frantically running to his side. There was blood, so much blood.

"Ri-Riza..." Roy said between shuddering gasps. Riza put his head on her lap and stroked his hair. She shook her head, disbelieving at what she had just done. "You're... very beautiful... when it rains..."

And indeed it was raining now. Riza didn't notice it until Roy said something, but rain was dripping down her face, concealing her tears. With a cough, expelling blood from his throat and lungs, Roy Mustang died.

Riza cried, shuddering fiercely. She had just killed the man she loved.

She sat there for a while, crying, tears causing the make-up to fade away, and the dark circles to return. It was then that it occurred to her what she had to do. She had to be with him.

Shakily, she raised the gun to her head.

"I love you," she said between sobs.

A young man was standing at the alley's opening when, after a few minutes of silence, he heard a single gunshot.

Roy Mustang was laid to rest two days later, beside Riza Hawkeye. Both were given military honors at burial. Roy was promoted to Brigadier General, and Riza to Colonel. Information from Roy's subordinate, Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes revealed that Roy was planning to propose to Riza on that night. The ring was found in the pocket of his military jacket.

Their assailants were captured and questioned soon after the incident, revealing that it was one of the attackers who had shot and killed Roy. Riza's bullet had hit her target. The man she thought was ducking had staggered and walked off, where he died ten feet away. In blood, next to Roy Mustang's body, were the words, "I killed him," in Hawkeye's handwriting. Riza had killed herself in the thought that she had killed Roy, and in the desperation to be with him.