A/N: Here's that one-shot I had talked about recently in Pressure Point regarding a time in which it was believed Edward hated Hawkeye. I wanted to note that it can also be read as a standalone.

I am writing this about his naïveté when he sees someone's life taken for the first time in his life. This takes place about a month or so after he is assigned to Roy's team, so he's still only twelve years old.

Anyways, enjoy this little Parental/Friendship!RizaEd piece!

"Edward, stop!"

No way in hell was he going to stop. This was his first mission with Mustang's team where something actually happened… and he wasn't about to just sit back and watch.

It was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission in order to gather information on a group suspected of selling illegal weapons to Aerugo. Little did they know they'd be greeted by nearly three times the men they had brought; the enemy completely armed and ready for them.

It would be a while before reinforcements would arrive. Not that they would need them though.

Another surge of adrenaline rushed through Edward's veins as he clapped his hands together and slapped the ground, producing three pillars that propelled three would-be attackers back and away from him. He couldn't help but smirk at his prowess. They definitely did not need those reinforcements…

Dodging and dipping effortlessly through the chaos, Edward caught a quick glimpse of Colonel Mustang (aka Colonel Bastard) fighting off two assailants. Both of them had abandoned their guns and were fighting the Colonel hand-to-hand. From what the report said, these men preferred it.

However… Mustang wasn't using his gloves; his hands were, for once, bare.

Oh yeah, that's right… The air was far too muggy and humid to even produce a spark. I bet he didn't even have time to grab his gun. His smirk widening, Edward inwardly decided, Eh, I'll help him out.

As he sprinted forward, Edward saw Mustang's body turn toward him, his eyes scanning around for any sign of assistance. However, when they fell on Ed, they widened. Clapping his hands together, Edward prepared to slap them on the ground when Mustang's eyes grew wider, his face contorting in distress as he opened his mouth to yell.

Suddenly Edward felt a sharp pain in his side, followed moments later by a massive force crashing into him. Hitting the ground with a heavy thud, he managed to look up just in time to see one of their adversaries standing above him, one foot on his automail arm and the other crushing his chest.

Edward squirmed in vain, desperately trying to get away, but to no avail.

He was trapped beneath him. Stuck.

As the man sneered down at him and began to move his arm out from behind him, a flash of blue and blonde caught Edward's eye.

When he registered who it was, a sense of relief flooded him, though only for a fleeting moment.

The comfort he felt abruptly disappeared and was instead replaced with a mix of horror and dread.

It seemed as if time slowed to a crawl, and yet his mind was still functioning at a breakneck speed.

He could only watch, frozen, as she slowly raised her arm.

The man, only now registering her presence, had begun to turn toward her… But Edward knew that it was too late.

He watched as those once kind brown eyes narrowed in on their target.

He tried in vain to scream, but his throat tightened up and his voice caught in his chest.

Stop… What are you doing?!

The man's head was turned completely toward her now, his dark eyes widening in realization as the barrel of her handgun greeted them.

And her eyes… He didn't even recognize them anymore.

They were cold-blooded.

Ruthless.

Merciless.

A killer's…

Edward suddenly felt his voice return to him.

He could feel his vocal cords reverberating; feel the air rush from his mouth as he screamed.

But he could not hear it.

…And by then it was too late.

He saw the man's body stiffen momentarily before it ceased all function. His eyes followed him as he crumbled to the ground.

The body hit the pavement with a dull thud, his head lolling toward Edward.

In that moment Edward's stomach lurched and his eyes widened as he stared into the man's lifeless eyes, watching the blood drain from the gunshot wound inflicted on him spill out onto the concrete floor.

He didn't deserve this… He… He didn't!

His view was obscured when the face of the one that had taken the man's life entered his field of vision; the cold and ruthless eyes he saw moments earlier now filled with concern and compassion. Her lips were moving but they weren't producing any sound. Feeling something brush up against his cheek, he realized that she had placed a hand on it, her mouth still moving silently.

But he didn't believe it for one second. That man was unarmed… Defenseless…

"Murderer," he sputtered as a surge of disbelief filled his gut.

"Edward," she asked, leaning in closer and attempted to touch his face again.

Batting her hand away from him, he cried out, "Don't touch me you… you cold-blooded murderer!"

With a gasp, Hawkeye pulled her hand away and sat back, her mahogany eyes widening in pain.

But he didn't care… He didn't believe it for one second…

"Edward…"

The young blond boy lifted his head numbly and rotated it to look at the source of the voice. Narrowed, obsidian eyes caught his dulled, golden ones.

Edward watched detachedly as Mustang sat down next to him and began to speak, but he was no longer listening; instead allowing his head to hang down, resting his chin against his chest.

Suddenly he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and felt his body turn. He reluctantly lifted his eyes, once again staring into blackness.

"Edward, you need to go and talk to her."

At the mention of her a surge of rage flooded him, forcing another bout of tears to begin welling up in his eyes. Whipping his head up sharply, his eyes burning, he snarled, "No!"

"Edward," the Colonel snapped forcefully, "You have to-"

"I don't have to do anything," he shouted brutally as he jumped up from his seat. "I don't have to listen to you! I don't have to apologize to her," he seethed as he clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists, the tears he was holding back now flowing freely down his cheeks. "And I sure as hell don't need this!" Digging into his jacket, he grabbed his pocket watch and flung it at the Colonel.

Too furious and upset to even wait for a reaction from Mustang, Edward turned on his heels and began to storm toward the exit.

But as he was about to throw the door open, he heard Mustang shout, "So you're just going to run away and quit the second someone does something you don't agree with?"

Whirling around to face the now standing Colonel, Edward yelled, "I'm not running away! I'm just going to find a way to get our bodies back without becoming a murderer!"

"Without that 'murderer' you wouldn't even be here to get your bodies back any other way," Mustang flared back as he closed the distance between them and grabbed Edward's shoulders.

Swallowing his bitterness, Edward shrugged off the man's grip and turned back to the door and began to open it when Mustang hissed, "You almost died today Edward and instead of being grateful, you've decided to condemn the one person that saved you."

"Bullshit," Edward growled as he pushed the door open.

"Is it bullshit that the man also had a gun in his hand," Mustang retorted hardly. "Is it bullshit that he was this close to shooting you where you laid?"

Narrowing his eyes in disbelief, Edward snapped, "What are you-"

"He had a gun in his hand, Fullmetal. He was about to kill you," Mustang elaborated bitterly. "Without the Lieutenant's quick thinking, you would be dead and Alphonse would no longer have an older brother."

"No he didn't… He-"

"I saw it, Fullmetal. It was behind his back. And the Lieutenant saw it too."

Feeling the swell of hatred in his chest begin to deflate, Edward stared at the man incredulously. After finding his words, he gasped, "He-he wouldn't have killed me. I'm just a kid; I'm only twelve-"

"Do you think he actually cared," Mustang replied sorely, "Because as far as he was concerned, you were just another military dog that needed to be put down."

"He was… He was going to kill me," Edward asked as he was smacked with realization. "He was going to kill me… I-I almost died!

"And Al… He… He wouldn't get his body back!"

Feeling hands once again grasp his shoulder; he stopped and looked up to see the Colonel's pained expression. "I know, Edward… And that's why I'm asking that you go and talk to her because she's just as rattled about this as you are. I think it will be good for both of you."

Taking a deep, shaking breath and feeling the last ounces of hatred and loathing leave his body, Edward hesitantly nodded.

Scanning around the darkened room, Edward did not see anyone at first. The unused office was simply that: abandoned and empty. As he began to turn and walk out, his eyes caught something blue near the room's back corner. Tentatively taking a step toward it, he realized that it was indeed the person he was looking for.

Taking quiet and cautious steps toward her, he saw that Hawkeye was leaning back against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her elbows rested atop them and her face buried in her hands. A towel was draped over the top of head and shoulders, concealing her identity completely. But he knew it was her. Because despite not being able to see her face, the way she seemed to still hold herself screamed that it was no one other than the Lieutenant.

She didn't flinch when Edward sat down next to her, remaining as still as stone.

Neither one said anything; sitting in complete and total silence as the minutes dragged on.

No longer able to take it anymore, Edward nervously cleared his throat and murmured, "I'm sorry…"

He heard her shift but he was too afraid to look at her, fearing he would be greeted with a cold and spiteful gaze. He knew that by the way she had moved that she was looking at him. But he couldn't look back… He wouldn't…

"You don't have to be sorry, Edward," she murmured in response.

Her voice was… Not what he had expected.

It was kind and loving. It was the same voice that would annoy the hell out of him every time she directed it toward him. Now, however, it didn't sound so bad.

"I… I shouldn't have said that," he elaborated, still fixing his gaze on the floor in front of him. "It was inappropriate and disrespectful and completely uncalled for." Feeling a tightness forming in his chest, he could feel the tears he had shed when he realized Al could have been left alone begin to form again. "I-I just reacted. I di-didn't realize what co-could have happened; what al-almost happened."

He heard her shift again, but he was too absorbed in his thoughts to even process it. Suddenly he felt her arm drape around his shoulders and pull him closer to her.

While comforting, the gesture again only reminded him of what he had said and what could have happened, opening the floodgates.

Burying his face into the padding on her shoulder, his breath hitched and he began to sob.

This only led to her pulling him closer, inadvertently causing him to cry harder.

He didn't know how long they remained there like that. It could have been mere minutes or it could have been hours. All he knew was that she never let go, remaining with him until he could no longer produce any tears and had resorted to hiccupping instead of breathing. Finally, when he was able to catch his breath, he gasped and exhaled slowly as the episode died down.

Now that the shock had worn off, he was left feeling embarrassed and ashamed. This wasn't how it worked in the military. You couldn't just break down like that… And into the shoulder of an officer you had just labeled a murderer nonetheless.

He wanted so badly to get up and leave; to never return to this place again. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be here… Maybe he wasn't cut out for this… He'd still be able to find another way to get Al's body back, right?

As he contemplated whether or not he should make a break for it, Hawkeye spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you feeling better now?"

He paused for a moment. No, he didn't. He would never feel any better. He couldn't do this…

He shook his head 'yes,' but when she shifted to look at him, he knew she could tell he was lying.

He didn't want to look up, but he knew he'd have to face her eventually. And when he did, instead of the loathsome glare he had expected, he was met with a saddened, compassionate expression.

And that's when he realized that she had been crying too. Or, at least, at some point she had. He could see that her mahogany eyes were still reddened and her cheeks slightly puffy, though it appeared that her tears had long been dried.

Her eyes wandered over to his and caught them. After she searched them for a moment, she softly said, "It's okay to feel the way that you do, Edward. I don't blame you." When she saw that he doubted her, she continued, "You know… I reacted the same way you did when I was first shipped out. I was on the battlefield less than five minutes when I saw someone felled right in front of me."

Edward would have thought it to be impossible if he didn't see the tear-stains on her face. Imagining the ever stoic and disciplined Hawkeye break down and cry was almost too difficult to imagine.

Swallowing the bolus that had begun to form in his throat, he muttered, "I… I just don't think I'm cut out for this… I just don't think I can do it… Take someone's life."

"And I would never expect you to." When he looked at her in surprise, she expanded on her explanation. "I did not have the luxury of deciding whether or not I could take a life; it was simply expected of me.

"As it stands right now, you have that choice. You may not always have it; you may someday be faced without one. But at this moment, your hands are clean and I will do everything in my power to make sure they stay that way. I want to see you and Alphonse get your bodies back and I want to see you two live long and happy lives."

"It still doesn't erase what I said," he objected as raised his sleeve and wiped his eyes.

"You're right. It does not erase what you said," she agreed, "But that doesn't mean I don't accept your apology. Like I said, Edward, I understand why you said those words.

"If anything, I should apologize for allowing you to be put in that position. Had I been there sooner, he may not have decided to follow through with what he was intending to do."

Forcing back a shudder as the memory began to push at the back of his mind, Edward shook his head. "But you didn't know what would happen until at that moment. I understand now why you did what you did…" He trailed off, losing himself in silence once again.

She in turn did not press him further by asking questions, instead allowing him to lean into her shoulder again in silent understanding.

After giving himself a few more minutes, he felt well enough to stand. When she felt him shift, she retracted her arm in order to let him get to his feet.

Once he was up, he whirled around and tried his best to shoot her his signature smile, extending his hand to her as he did so. When she accepted it, he helped pull her to her feet.

As the two made their way back toward Mustang's office, Edward finally let everything sink in.

He didn't have to leave. He could stay and continue to fight in order to reclaim Al's body and his… And he could do so without having to take a life.

Glancing at the seasoned soldier that strode beside him out of the corner of his eye, Edward realized that if she of all people believed it, then it was truly possible.

And as long as he had her support, he would do everything in his power to make her proud.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I hope that the end doesn't seem too rushed and that I conveyed their mutual understanding through both words and actions. I enjoyed writing this piece and might even expand on it a bit and include a chapter from Riza's point of view. But, we'll see.

As usual, constructive criticism and/or kind words are always appreciated!