Pain. Sudden, sharp, and excruciating. His vision flashed and all air was forced from his lungs in a choked gasp as he felt it pierce him.

"I told you." Her words seemed more gloating now than ever, dripping with pleasure. She pressed her blades in farther and Mustang let out an agonized groan. Lust held him there a moment longer and studied the look on his face. His eyes were wide with shock, and his lips parted in unvoicable agony. She had seen it before; the beautiful look of anguish, of panic, and of horror that comes upon a man only when they first realize just how pathetic and mortal they are; when they feel the first kiss of death's cruel sting. All the same, it seemed to suit him particularly well. "The Philosopher's Stone is my core." She continued.

Gritting his teeth to suppress a cry, the Colonel's body was limp, paralyzed, useless in her hands. Just as quickly as she had pierced him, she drew the two sharp blades back out, with the satisfying sound of tearing flesh and gushing blood. Roy collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, trying to suppress his pitiful moans.

"I really hate to do this." He heard her say as one by one she spilled his fingers from his gloves. His mind screamed at him to stop her, but his body would not obey. "You were a prime candidate for sacrifice and all…But you forced me to kill you." Lust continued, almost sounding honestly sad. Roy could feel his glove – his last hope of using his flames – slip out of his grasp.

He ordered his body to stand up, to fight her. To stop her. But it was no use. He could feel the blood spreading now. He managed to move his hand to his wound. He heard the sound of tearing fabric, and the tattered shreds of his alchemic array came floating down before him. "Damn you." He forced out through gritted teeth.

"Save your breath." Was the quick, savage reply. "I want you to watch poor Jean bleed to death." She walked around the downed figure of her last triumph, "Then you can die." He could hear the twisted smile in her words as she left him there in a pool of blood and walked away.

The very thought made him reel. But Roy Mustang's world was fading quickly now. "J-Jean…" He called, his voice tight and hoarse from the pain. "Hey, answer me!" But there was no answer. It hurt to shout, but Roy did not care. "Havoc!" He called to the man beside him on the floor. Jean had not moved a muscle since falling, but Roy was not the kind of man to give up. Not on anyone. "You can't die!" he yelled at his subordinate, unaware if the man was actually still alive or not.

Images flashed in Roy's mind. Of Havoc. And of Hughes. He saw himself standing by the side of another grave, knowing that it was his fault. He would not let that happened again. Not on his watch. Not ever. "You can't die before I do, dammit." The Colonel's voice was growing panicked now as he struggled to try and sit up, trying to see Havoc. To make sure he wasn't already gone. "Havoc…" his voice cracked. "Havoc!" Nothing.

"Come on…" Mustang muttered to himself. He opened his shirt and pressed his left hand to his wounded side, then braced himself and poured all of his effort into pushing himself off the ground. With a cry of pain, he dragged himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily on his other arm. The torn muscles in his abdomen screamed in rebellion. But he did not care. He pulled himself to Havoc's side. "I won't allow you to die." He said aloud, gripping the second lieutenant's shoulders and turning him onto his back, lifting his face from the growing pool of his own blood. Even if it killed him he would not let this man die.

Still trying to maintain pressure on his own wound, Roy clumsily unfastened and pried the protective vest from Jean's still unresponsive body, and ripped open his shirt. He had been pieced straight through, with exit wounds just above his naval and entrance wounds at the base of his spine. Roy did not bother checking for a pulse. Lieutenant Havoc had to be alive.

He looked around the room for something – anything – that he could use to stop the bleeding. Pressing Jean's torn shirt against the wound was not enough. Roy cursed his lack of medical training. He knew next to nothing about healing alchemy as well. What good was being an alchemist at all if he couldn't save his friend!? But all he knew was fire. And even that was lost now. If only…

And then he saw it. A small reflection on the wet floor where it had fallen next to Havoc's hand. Roy grabbed the lighter and flicked it harder and faster than anyone had ever flicked a lighter before. He had never approved of the young officer's cancer-inducing habit, but he was thanking whatever God might be for it now. If only the blasted, waterlogged thing would light.

And then what? He thought. What use is one little flame? He needed to control it. Roy glanced once more at the shreds of his gloves lying on the ground. She had not made this easy on him, that was for sure. Only one option presented itself to the Colonel's mind, and he had no hesitation in following it through.

Roy did not use his knife much, but like any good soldier he had one. Pulling a small pocket blade from his belt, Roy steeled himself for what he was about to do. Resettling himself, leaning against Havoc's downed form, he pulled his left hand away from his wound and tried to steady himself. He tightened his right hand into a fist, and, holding the blade like a pen, brought the tip to his skin, praying that he might finish before he bled out and his vision faded entirely, and trying to keep his hands from shaking.

He knew the design by heart. More than my heart, by nature. It was the most natural design he knew. It was a part of him. But still, on the tender flesh of his hand, he begrudged every line. The circle was the hardest, but it had to be perfect. "Hold on Havoc…" he muttered, biting his lip as he lifted the blade only to set it on his skin once more and carve another line. "Hang in there." He coughed. "Almost… done." Roy clenched and stretched his hand, trying to dull the pain. He grabbed the lighter again and, changing the water into its component parts, at last achieved a spark.

As Roy looked back to his subordinate's wounds a sudden wave of nausea washed over him, and he clutched his side once more."Dammit…" he muttered again, breathing heavily and trying to steady himself. He needed to hurry or he would bleed to death before he could save Havoc. The young soldier had still not moved. Taking a deep breath, Mustang finally pressed his hand to Jean's throat, feeling for a pulse. It would be no good to burn a corpse.

"He's alive." Roy's eyes went wide as he felt it, his determination returning. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. This is gonna sting." Roy's bleeding hand hovered over his friend's wounds. It had been a long time since he had done anything like this. Causing explosions was one thing, killing or wounding people another, but this. This was entirely different. He had to be controlled. He had to calculate it precisely.

Roy's hands shook as the blue light of an alchemic reaction lit the space between his hand and Havoc's bleeding wounds. He took a deep breath and raised the lighter in his other hand andsparked the flames.

"Gaah!"

"Havoc!" The flames were out moments after they were lit, but not before an agonized moan forced itself from Havoc's lips.

"C-Colonel…" Havoc was not fully conscious, but neither was he immune to the pain.

"Don't speak." Roy ordered. "Stay with me, Havoc. I need to stop the bleeding. I'm sorry, but this is the only way." Havoc did not even have the strength to nod. Roy carefully rolled the other man over, exposing the wounds on his back. He prayed the Second Lieutenant would fall unconscious again, to save him from the pain.

As he adjusted the oxygen and hydrogen levels surrounding Havoc's wounds, Roy realized that the last time he had done this, the last time he had burned anyone so closely, so carefully, it was his First Lieutenant's back. Forcing the terrible memories from his mind, Roy determined once again to stay focused on his goal. "Sorry, Havoc." He sparked the lighter once more.

There was no response this time, and for that Roy was glad. Being burnt was bad enough, but being awake for it. That was torture.

Rolling Havoc onto his back once more, Roy checked his pulse again. It was weak, but it was there. He had done all he could for Havoc. The man would live. Good. Now… Roy's mind faded as he considered what to do next. The easiest thing seemed like laying down to die.

Taking another deep breath, Roy's breath hitched, his body instinctively curling into his terribly wounded side. He could not even voice a curse as he felt himself collapse onto the wet floor. Adrenaline was wearing off now. Spots danced before his was it then. This was how it ended. This was how he died.

Something in Roy's mind protested. This was no way to behave. He could not give up. Not now. Not ever. Not until he had achieved his goal. But… laying here felt so nice. And breathing was so difficult. The Colonel's eyes fluttered closed.

*BANG*

Roy Mustang's eyes shot open as the sound of a gunshot rang through the room. One thought immediately filled his mind: The Lieutenant.

Roy's hand shot to his side, cringing at the contact with his own wound, and began to transmute. He could not see the wound, lying on his back. But it didn't matter. He surrounded his side with flammable gas.

*Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang*

Rapid fire shots followed quickly, and Roy knew that Riza had unloaded her handgun. Lust had found her.

Without even stopping to brace himself for what he knew wascoming, Roy lit the spark.

"GAAAH!" Sounds of pure agony were ripped from his throat.

*Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang*

The Lieutenant's second magazine was now empty.

Roy's vision blurred and flashed as collapsed to the ground again, unable to stop himself from crying out. He knew what it felt like to be burned, of course he did. But even after all this time it somehow surprised him. Even after he had extinguished the flames, the pain did not stop. He was intimately familiar with everything about fire and burning flesh. But this time, knowing that all of that was the smell of his own flesh burning was more sickening than he could have ever imagined. He tried to focus on something, anything other than the lingering, burning pain.

He knew he was close to passing out, and if he passed out he would die. He could not die. Not now. She needed him. He pressed his left hand to the wound. He had cauterized it, but not completely. He had only managed to seal the front. "Dammit…" he muttered once more, tears filling his eyes from the pain as he tried to roll and expose his still bleeding back.

*BANG*

The loud shot of a heavy caliber pistol punctuated the air. Roy knew how much ammunition Riza had ready at hand, and he knew she was running out.

*BANG*

Cursing again, Roy closed his eyes to the pain, flooded the air with oxygen and hydrogen again, and prayed that he would not pass out.

*BANG*

He flicked the lighter.

*BANG*

He did not even try to stifle the tortured wails or stop the tears that filled his eyes. Clenching his teeth and panting in labored breaths, Roy pressed his hand to his cauterized wound. There was no more time.

*BANG*

Roy let out a cry as he shoved himself off the floor with all the strength he could muster, moving fast before the pain could overwhelm him.

*BANG*

It was her last bullet.

"I'll be… back…. Havoc." He whispered, his voice breaking. Setting his eyes on the goal ahead, Roy limped forward, clutching his subordinate's cigarette lighter to his side and leaning heavily on the walls of the dark hallway.

As he made his way back out the way he and Havoc had come, Mustang listened for any sign of the Lieutenant. He heard none. Not a word. Not a gunshot. Nothing. As the haunting silence seeped further into the Colonel's mind, images rose in his mind's eye again. Images of Hughes. Of Riza lying dead in his arms. Her blood on his hands. His mind rebelled: He had not lost Havoc, he would not lose her.

"I'm…. coming… Lieutenant…" Roy panted as he forced himself to limp on through the dark hallway. Delirious from the pain, Roy could only hope that he was going in the right direction. He followed the curving wall in the dark, shoving one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that washed over him every time he put weight on his left foot. If he stopped, he knew that he could never get back up again. But the tunnel just kept on going, and there was no sign of Riza. Fear began to make its way into Roy's mind. He tried to press himself to go faster. They had to be close now. Roy knew he could not last much longer. They had to be close.

Ahead of him, Roy could have sworn he saw the blue light of an alchemic reaction. Alphonse. Perhaps he was with the Lieutenant. That meant she might have still been alive. Roy groaned aloud as he pushed himself one step further, then one more. He heard something crashing, the sound of Alphonse's armor meeting a blade.

"Such a shame…" Roy gasped and almost stopped as he heard Lust's voice echoing through the halls once more. Riza's attacks had not stopped her any more than his. "You are a perfect candidate." Roy did not know what that meant, but he knew one thing: She had no intention of letting Alphonse live.

"Listen, Alphonse." Roy's eyes went wide as he heard Lieutenant Hawkeye's voice. "Leave me and save yourself." Riza insisted. All strength was gone from her voice. Roy pushed himself into the closest thing he could manage to a run. Stumbling along with one hand pressed to his burnt, torn side, his teeth grit, his heart racing.

"No." He heard Alphonse's frightened voice. Roy felt as if he were running in slow-motion.

"Run!" Riza pleaded. The pure despondence in her voice felt to the Colonel like a stab in the chest. He crashed against the wall again as another wave of agony hit him.

"I won't!" Alphonse insisted.

"GO!" Riza shouted back. Roy could hear the tears in her voice. It had been years since he had seen the Lieutenant cry. What had Lust done?

"I won't leave you!" Alphonse repeated, as Roy finally found to the door. Crashing against the wall, Roy sucked in deep, painful breaths as he prepared himself to face Lust once more. "I'm sick of watching people die!" Alphonse continued "And I can't just sit back and take it anymore!" Roy stopped as he heard the young man's determined words. "I won't let anyone else get killed! Not when I could protect them!" The sentence was ended as Lust sliced through Alphonse's metal body. Nothing the boy did would stop her. Only he could do that now.

Roy took a deep breath and forced himself from the wall. Alphonse was right. No one would die tonight. Not on his watch. Not Havoc, not Riza, not Al. It was down to him and Lust now. He had survived this long. He would not die tonight. If he had to kill her a million times over, he would dot it.

Seeing her once again, sudden rage surged in Roy's heart. She had stabbed Havoc, and nearly killed him. But worst of all, she had made Lieutenant Hawkeye cry. It was enough to make Roy's blood boil.

"Well said, Alphonse Elric." The words left his mouth before he even realized he was speaking. They sounded far stronger and fiercer than he felt. "I couldn't agree more." It was now or never. Already transmuting the air around his enemy, Roy made eye contact with Alphonse, and did not even need to nod to communicate his charge: Shield the Lieutenant. He raised his hand, and before Lust could even turn around, unleashed Hell.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that. It was my frist FMA story, just a little in-cannon scene that happened "offstage" in the Manga and Brotherhood. i've written a bit more, but I don't know if I'll publish it. And oh btw YES I love Royai, but this story wasn't about that.