Gosh. I'm on a roll for everything EXECPT my other fics.

Sorry about the angsty stuff tonight. -worries about self- This is my insight on how Hayate felt after whatever episode in Brotherhood where Riza's neck gets all cut open and Roy's all like Nooo~..

Anyway, please enjoy!

Dying hurt.

It felt like someone grabbed hold of your soul, your very core, and smashed it until bits of you flew in opposite directions, scattered about the universe for some poor smuck to find and be confused by.

Black Hayate would know.

Hayate wasn't a terribly fastitious dog. He didn't care much how often that raven-haired man who reeked of insecurity came across his threshold, nor how much Riza spent staring quietly out the window after he left. He didn't care if that damned chihuahua down the street took his bone once of thrice, either. It was only one bone, and his master lavished upon him with those.

So where was she?

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

The ancient grandfather clock's message echoed throughout the otherwise silent flat, sending Hayate to his feet with an all-but-forgotten bone clenched between sharp canines.

Hayate's keen doggy sense of time informed him she should've returned home one dong ago. Hawkeye, along with her strict militaristic side, also was a stickler for times. She refrained from being a minute late, or a minute early. Her shiny key that he wasn't allowed to chew on always turned the lock exactly on that dong. Always.

A feeling of being observed crept up on Hayate and filled him with a sudden frenzy to run, run to the center of the city, to stop that feeling, anything to stop that feeling that something bad-

An earsplitting howl erupted from Hayate's throat as he fell to the gleaming hardwood in unspeakable pain. It felt worse than when that big fluff of a beast Alexander thought he was a chew toy. The sensation of being cut apart by a too clean sword tore into the little pup and he howled again, screaming for Riza in the language of animal.

Please! Make it stop! Help me, Riza. You always help!

"SHUT IT, DAMN DOG!" The neighbors yelled simeotaneously, banging on the apartment walls in annoyance. "Shaddup!"

Hayate tried to stifle his cries to no avail. Whimpers crawled out from his muzzle like he had no control over it, and he lay on the ground miserably, for some reason hearing that pale man screaming "Riza!" and smelling the odd odor of that scarlet stuff that came out of things that hurt. His neck ached, and he let out a long whine that reverberated throughout the building. Why did it feel like he was suffering along with someone who didn't even know he was there?

That had been weeks ago, and now Riza was back, but not for long. She came home later and left even earlier, every time coming back covered in the harsh scent of something too clean and that dark-haired man that she cared too much for.

Even when she was there, it would've been much more pleasant if she wasn't. Because then Black Hayate wouldn't have to smell the cool distance she kept from him, even when she did that nice stroking thing that usually caused him to fall into a peaceful slumber.

Why is your neck all bandaged up, Riza?

Why do you hold me and cry like that?

It's okay, master. Please don't stare at me like I'm not here.

Why do you smell like pain?

The days came and went slowly, each day keeping Riza farther from him and smelling more of that overly clean place. When she did return, Hayate would slink over to his bed and simply lay there, petrified that she might pick him up and cry in that way that made him ache all over for days.

And for Black Hayate, that feeling of being ripped apart along with some clueless person settled better with him than losing his soft, gentle owner to anyone.

Riza, why won't you hold me and care? Stay.

His pleading whimpers were only met with apologetic glimpses and a "I'll be back soon, boy," before a wooden door shut and clicked before him, leaving him alone once more.

Hope you enjoyed!

Thanks for reading, mucho gracias.

~FullMetalCrayon~