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9-11; MY STORY AS A CHILD WHO GREW UP CLOSE TO NEW YORK
I know it’s now 9-12 but I was working all day on the 11th and this just took me a long time to write...and I know this is now what I normally write, but I need to say what I need to say.
When I’ve had a moment to look through Facebook all I’ve seen is people expressing how they remember where they were that day, where they were the moment they found out a plane had hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center and how they felt.
I am no different I suppose-expect my story is I have no story. I was six years old on that beautiful sunny day. I was in the first weeks on Kindergarten. My school was either let out early or I was picked up early, either way my brother (who was one at the time) and I were brought home under the guise of the president giving us the day off because we were being good. It was just my dad, my brother and I until the evening because my mom’s place of employment wouldn’t let her leave early (just let that sink in for a second).
I only know this because I was told this about five years later, when my mom sat me down with a magazine that had the face of Osama Bin Ladin on it. I still remember that picture and the chills it gave me. I was lucky. I was sheltered. And yet despite that the horror of the day still haunts not just my life but all of our lives twenty years later. I was in Learning Center with twins who lost their father that day, and I’m sure they were far from the only kids I shared the halls with who lost someone. I spent what must amount to hours in lines waiting to get through airport security, holding my breath as I was being patted down almost every single time (a consequence of being short my pants bunch at my. ankles) and as they searched through my bag at least once (all I have was medication for a sinus infection). I know that’s more than what people of color and especially Middle Eastern people have had to endure, but it’s still unnerving having someone put their fingers in your hair because you chose to wear it up.
My country has been at war for the majority of my life and I have had the privilege of being blissfully unaware despite having family in the military…. I don’t know how to feel about that fact.
My friends in college probably know this, but I live in a town in Connecticut that is 30 miles from New York City-in fact my town in more or less a suburb of Manhattan. Whenever someone says they’re going to the city we all know they’re talking about New York. I’ve gone there at least once a year since I was six years old-the first time being three months after the attack to see The Nutcracker.
I’ve actually see The World Trade Center, both in its ruins and as it was being built again.
I was ten years old when I first went down there on a bus tour with my grandmother. We were doing touristy things that had included climbing to that top of the Empire State Building and in that moment we were bus a tour. The bus took us to a ditch/crater that was surrounded by a blue fence. People were walking around in there, what they were doing I’ll never know and I don’t think I want to know. I remember the tour guide saying “World Trade Center” and “Terrorist Attack” but those words meant nothing to me. I said nothing. All I could think was “Why are they taking us to a ditch?”
Flash forward six years later and I am all too aware of what had happened almost ten years before. I was down there again, this time standing in the middle of a world being rebuilt. I stared up a creation that was attempting to reach to the sky in defiance of the horror of that day. Beside me was the same blue fencing, where a memorial was being built in the ruins of two giants.
I remember the silence.
Despite being in the middle of Down Town Manhattan and a construction site (though no one was working at that moment) there was something eerily quiet about the place, as if the world seemed to pause and stop the moment you entered it.
The kid I was with had made comments about body parts being scattered there in an attempt to scare me. I snapped at him that it wasn’t funny-and it wasn’t funny because he was right.
People may ask why we will keep bringing up this day, after all it was more than a life time ago. I do understand people use this day as an excuse to air their ugly hatred against Muslims who do nothing but live their lives as we do. I understand people use this day to dig into their fanatical patriotism which was someone who does consider herself a proud American I can’t stand.
I understand… but I also say this to those who ask why; This day is for the people who woke up on that morning, hugged and kissed their loved ones goodbye and expected to return home after a mundane if beautiful day-whether it was in New York or in Washington D.C and never made it home. Some families never had a body to lay to rest.
This day is for the firefighters and police officers who ran to the terror and horror while others ran away (not that I judge or blame them for a single moment). They are braver than I will ever be.They risked their lives and gave the ultimate sacrifice to save as many people as they could. Whole squads and companies were lost. Not only that, this day is for those that survived and staid to dig through the rubble at the expense of their physical and mental health.
This day is for the people on those ill-fated flights, who had boarded expecting to safely reach their destination.
This day is for the people on Flight 93, who once again are braver than I will ever be. They decided to quiet literally look terror in the eye and fight back. These souls saved our country from what would have been a fourth attack on either the White House or the Capital Building, and lost their lives in the middle of an emerald field Pennsylvania.
This day is for the innocent lives that were lost, and the brave souls who tried to save others and fight back. This day is to remember them and the fact they lost their lives in such a violent and senseless way. As a matter of fact did you know survivors are still suffering to this day? The first responders who lived to tell their harrowing tale are riddled with cancer or disabled.
That is why we remember and we must, and cannot ever forget that day.
But alas it seems the country has forgotten. It seems to have forgotten how we railed together to rebuild what we lost and to support each other. Imagine what it would be like if we continued to lift each other up and support each other as we did in the days after.
Like I said… I guess despite of never vowing to forget a lot of the country did.
I leave you with this one last tid bit.
After that day my mom made it a point to always say goodbye and I love you whenever one of us leaves or parts. She makes it a point to never go to bed angry and to always say goodnight and I love you.
It all started after that day.
Hug the ones you love. Let them know you love and if you are parting even for what seems a normal day always say goodbye and I love you. You never know what will happen.
May the 3,000 souls who lost their lives continue to rest at peace with our Father above. May they and our Lord continue to watch over the ones who were left behind and the ones who survived.
ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMESTRIS: CHAPTER TWO: WHISPERINGS OF HOPE
Chapter One
AN: HELLO MY LOVELIES! SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG. I’VE HAD A LOT HAPPEN IN THE PAST THREE MONTHS THAT I REALLY DON’T WANT TO GET INTO BUT IT’S TAKEN A LOT OUT OF ME. BUT I FINALLY REALLY READY TO PUSH ON SO HERE WE GO!
I ALSO NEVER DO THIS BUT JUST TO BE SAFE AND BECAUSE I HAVE A FEELING I’M GONNA HAVE TO DO THIS MORE THAN ONCE...
TW: FOR TALK OF ABORTION. IF THIS TOPIC MAKES YOU SENSITIVE... DON’T READ I GUESS.
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING LADIES AND GENTS SO THANK YOU MUCH!!
CHAPTER TWO: WHISPERINGS OF HOPE
Well Ms. Hawkeye it looks like congratulations are in order. You’re pregnant.”
It was funny, Riza decided, how one sentence could throw the entire course of your life in ruin.
There had been many thoughts spiraling through Riza’s head and emotions charging through her heart after she heard those two simple words.
You’re pregnant ….
First there was utter shock.
Then there was debilitating confusion.
After that came a wave of bitter rage that threatened to overtake her very being.
A bitter shock of cold terror quelled that rage before it had a chance to become all consuming.
And the guilt weighed so heavily she feared it would send her crashing below the surface and steal her breath.
It was only when she was alone in the confines of the four walls she called home something resembling happiness began to bloom. It lingered quietly, hiding in some deep place as if it was an unwelcomed guess no matter how hard she tried to shove it away.
Above all else, there was one singular thought that reigned supreme.
Roy.
Once the news had begun to settle in her bones, the picture of his pale face, ebony hair and dark eyes refused to leave her. She was all too aware of the weight this news held… how dangerous it was. Riza had mulled and puzzled over how to break such monumental news-though it had seemed despite her best efforts, her behavior and simple note had spoken more eloquently than she ever could.
Four hours upon hours she had tried to ignore the fear eating at her. It only worsened the ever-present rumbling and stewing in her stomach. At first, she had walked and walked, praying the thin, clean air would clear her senses. Yet when that same comforting breeze started luring her to a place of cold darkness Riza retreated to her four walls. She dove into books and the quiet companionship of Black Hyate to distract herself from the one worry she couldn’t escape;
“Pregnant?” Riza chimed in, her voice quiet and thin. “Yes. Yes I am.”
For a man who claimed to have known what she needed to say, Roy began to spiral.
Riza watched as his eyes grew dangerously wide. They appeared on the verge of flying out of his skull. His tall, broad frame was visibly shaking. She watched calmly as he ran his fingers through is hair. Somehow, and Riza wasn’t sure how, his midnight mane became even more tousled. It only added to the frazzled, frantic expression on his face. His face paled to bone, his jaw falling into a large circle. If she listened closely, she could have heard his lungs stop and his heart speeding into oblivion.
The man looked on the verge of collapsing. One sudden movement or a gentle gust of wind threatened to break him into pieces. Riza sat up straighter and squared her shoulders once more, prepared to put the pieces back together as she always did. Miraculously, whatever force was holding him together was far stronger than she knew. He stood planted to the ground, even though his quaking frame resulted in weak, wobbling knees. His large, stunned eyes staid fixated on Riza’s anxiously guarded features.
A soft, strangled noise spilled from Roy’s gaping mouth as he gawked at the sight before him.
There was no sign of the changes occurring in Riza. The thin, baby pink cotton covering her made it clear there was still a firm body beneath the baggy clothing. Everything about her appearance was completely and utterly normal. It was so normal that the whole notion seemed to be one horrible, twisted joke. His thoughts rebelled against the notion that any form of life-let alone a life he was partially responsible for-was forming in that flat stomach. He was about to open his mouth to question if she was playing some kind of evil prank to watch him squirm.
Before he had a chance to even speak, Riza did something. It was seemingly harmless and innocent, yet her actions were enough to silence Roy’s childish notion.
Riza retained her infamous stoic gaze and still demeanor. The longer Roy gawked her, the tighter her muscles became and the more strained her face grew. As if her body had a mind of its own, Riza’s hands gravitated to her middle once more. Roy’s eyes slowly trailed her movements, his heart racing faster and faster. She held her arms across her stomach. In that instant her stoic demeanor gave way to a quiet, burning protectiveness reserved for very few souls. She seemed oblivious to the change in the way she held herself. She seemed to act on a deep, strange instinct she was not yet fully aware of.
That simple motion and change in her aura was that final gust to finally break the venerated Major General. It was enough to shatter any illusion this was some foolish notion this was all a twisted joke.
Against all rhyme and logic Roy’s eyes grew even bigger as any color that remained on his strong features vanished. The shaking became so violent it forced his knees to buckle, sending him falling to the floor. His adapt hands gripped on to the top of the couch before he had a chance to completely loose his balance. His chest heaved as he took long, ragged breaths. No matter how deep or how long he inhaled his lungs never seemed to have their fill. They screamed for more air that his nerves rejected at any turn. Naturally, this made his already revolving head even lighter and his thoughts even faster.
One simple sentence in one single moment threw the entire course of life into complete and utter wreckage.
His plans for the country…
His plans to reach for the highest prize of them all…
It would never matter that the late Fuhrer Grumman would have plucked Roy and hoisted him to that throne had it not been for a pesky heart attack. It wouldn’t have mattered that his ambitions were laid bare for the world to see. It didn’t matter that the whispers and gossip had been louder than thunder before the man was covered with dirt. As Roy had made his way through the numb days following Grumman’s sudden passing all eyes had been own him, watching and waiting. Throughout the preceding year he had sat patiently and quietly, waiting for the moment that grew further and further away. After years and years of one single man at the helm, there was a thirst among certain groups in parliament to avoid putting another warm body in that cold throne. A charming if naive notion. He had watched as the parliament and its embarrassingly green prime minister stumbled and fumbled, desperately attempting to uphold the vast changes the late Fuhrer had enacted;
Freedom of the press,
Freedom of Speech,
Freedom of Religion
A policy of Peace and Rebuilding
More and more power trickling down from the military into the hands of the people.
There were always those who clung to the days of old, when one man held the destiny of his land and people in the palm of his hand. They continued to fight tooth and nail against change, and against all odds they never won.
There was only one law all seemed unwillingly to budge on; fraternization.
Roy has seen it many times before; an officer charms his young subordinate. It’s innocent at first, nothing more than little jokes and lightning glances. The looks turn into touching and then the touching turns into lips against lips and then….
The circumstances never mattered. That little look would lead the officer and subordinate to be swept away with all the remains of a shattered career, relationship and life at their feet.
Roy and Riza had been different. Their souls became intertwined in the safety of the shadows, hidden under the minutest of gestures and simplest of words. It was cloaked under code and under far away spots. It was concealed in dark apartments, drowned in laughter and wine.
There was a rush of thrill as they indulged in the electricity that had been humming between their souls for years. It was enthralling to hide under everyone noses as their bonds busted out of the hearts and into something physical and beautiful. They had-so Roy thought-proceeded with the upmost discretion and cautiousness
In spite of themselves and their broken souls, they had managed to create something akin to happiness.
He should have known the laws of the universe would never let a pair with so much blood on their hands and death in their eyes be truly happy.
It only seemed comically natural that their whole lives were about to implode.
“Roy?” Riza said, dropping any pretense of rank and titles of past or present. Her voice was strained and distant, becoming lost within his chaotic thoughts. It did little to break through the armor of shock covering every part of his frame. At first all she received was a bone chilling silence and wild eyes. Then, as if the man had become so tightly wound that standing still was a chore Roy pushed himself up right. The small, barren apartment became filled with boots trampling as he frantically paced back and forth.
“I don’t… I… how did this happen?” He sputtered.
Riza raised her eyebrows, her arms crossing over her chest.
“Roy you are a grown man surely you don’t need me to”
“No no of course I know HOW it happened! But HOW and WHEN?” His hands gripped his hair as his pacing refused to slow or cease. His face was completely manic while he dived deep into his memories and dashed off a few rough calculations.
“It couldn’t have been… no no no but what about?”
Riza could only sigh, her chest filling with tight fear as the man she loved continued to fall apart by the second.
“The doctor said I’m two, maybe three weeks along at the most and due at the beginning or middle of November.” She claimed. As Roy continued to effectively tread the entirety of Riza’s home he gained enough self-control to nod.
“I see. So it was Breda’s birthday party wasn’t it.” He concurred, taking to running his fingers through his hair once again instead of holding on to it for dear life.
“Most likely…. That or the night not long after when we were stuck inside during that freak snowstorm.” Riza conceded, sending out a silent prayer that receiving a piece of concrete information would give his logical, methodical mind something to latch on to. She hoped in turn that simple act would give his soul even an ounce of peace.
He nodded, bringing his fingers to his chin as he always did when deep in thought. His pacing refused to end; his feet as loud as drums. They pounded in her ears, only worsening her already throbbing head. She could see his broad back tensing into one giant knot. Those same shoulders refused to quit their shaking despite the heavy jacket.
The sight sent a sharp, frigid shiver creep up her veins.
There had been one other time, four years before she had seen him fall. In a maze of dimly lit tunnels Riza had watched as Roy had begun to lose himself to flaming anger and scorching revenge. It was only with the barrel of a gun and a vow to end her life once the day was done that wrenched him back from the brink.
Once again, the Major General was in danger of losing himself in her box of an apartment under the rays of a setting sun. Instead of being blinded by red all he could see was the horror of what lied a head, and a life that would never be the same.
Riza felt her heart begin to crack. She automatically shoved the blanket on the floor and rose to her feet, darting to Roy. Her hands reached for his shoulders, to finally force his restless energy to still. Yet just as her fingertips brushed the thick, black coat her stomach flipped. The sudden and quick motions had awoken the storm in her gut, causing it to rage once more. It caused her to freeze as her fingers gently touched the familiar material as her cheeks flushed a sickly green once more. She felt herself began to sway, her fingers gripping tighter to the thick coat as a last attempt to keep her steady.
That weak, stiff touch was enough to freeze Roy’s frantic pacing. He whipped his head over his shoulder. His features were rigid and bone white. His dark eyes were wide with frantic panic and hopeless despair. Riza could feel his shoulder quaking under her fingertips. She felt her heart twist at the sight, her blood beginning to run cold a shiver climb up her spine. Her oldest and most familiar companion, guilt reared its head once again. It bloomed deep in her stomach, growing into an ever larger and heavier force until…
“I’m sorry.” Riza muttered, bringing one of her hands to her mouth. Before her words seemed to reach Roy she was dashing towards the bathroom. She had accidently pulled Roy’s coat with her, letting it collapse to the floor in a heap.
For a moment the Major General could only gawk at the pile of black on the floor as he listened to the sound of his pounding heart. He couldn’t escape the sensation that he had fallen into a dream. The simple furniture he knew so well, the ebony coat he wore day in and day out, even the setting sun seemed otherworldly. His eyes slowly moved to his hands. Even they seemed foreign and bizarre.
Had they been shaking this whole time?
Roy’s eyes twisted shut as they balled into fist once again.
“This has to be a dream. Wake up Mustang. Wake up Mustang. Wake-“
A chorus of shrill barking broke through the white noise blaring in his head. Roy’s head shot up, his eyes facing out to the setting sun. A cold, wet nose against his fist shocked his fingers open once more. Desperate wines and a paw pressing against his leg sent him crashing back to reality. He glanced down and saw Riza’s black and white dog beside him. Black Hyate stared into Mustang’s eyes as he continued to whine. His cold, damp nose pushed against Roy’s hand once more. When that only resulted in a series of stunned blinking, Black Hyate clamped his mouth on to Roy’s ample pants and began to tug.
It was only then that Roy became aware of the horrible retching hanging in the air. His glanced towards the sound and the direction he was being pulled. He laid eyes on the closed bathroom door, all but oblivious to Black Hyate’s valiant efforts to help his master. When another wretch hit Roy’s ears it flipped a switch in his head.
What was he doing?
Why was he standing there falling into pieces when the person he loved needed him?
With that new resolve Roy rushed to the bathroom, leaving Black Hyate in the dust as the dog trotted beside him.
He pushed the door open just as Riza gallantly attempted to push herself to her feet. He could see her arms shaking with the effort as they braced against the cold porcelain seat. Her long blonde strands spilled in front of her face. Her breaths were short and labored, making her back tremble. He didn’t need to see her face to know it had been drained of it’s soft, ivory coloring.
The sight made Roy’s heart begin to splinter and his stomach twist. It was difficult beyond words to watch his strong, iron willed Riza be reduced to such a fragile state. Yet whatever terror and fear that had held him in their claws had been shaken off, if only momentarily. Roy only stood in the door frame for a fraction of a second before he was on his knees, right by her side.
“Don’t stand just yet Lieutenant.” Roy whispered, gently grabbing hold of her shoulders. He moved her slowly and carefully, inch by inch, as if he was moving a slumbering bomb. She felt like a ragdoll under his touch. It was all to easily to move her to his side. He slipped the royal blue coat covering his shoulders on to Riza’s shoulders before slipping his arm around her and pulling her close.
“Colonel…” She breathed, her fingers wrapping around his white shirt. “I…” Roy slowly ran his hand up and down her arm.
“I know Lieutenant…” He sighed, hiding his lips in her soft hair. Silence fell over the pair as they sat on the cool bathroom floor, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. Riza fluttered her eyes closed as her breath grew slower and ever more steady. A little trace of pink began to flush her cheeks. She seemed to melt into his side, as if the weight on her shoulders was lifted for one blissful moment. Her lips even twisted into a the faintest of smiles when Black Hyate rested his head on her lap. Life was returning to her features once more.
Yet, as Roy gazed from the top of Riza’s mane, all he could see was her arm resting protectively over her middle. He could not help but allow himself the smallest of smiles into her hair.
“You know something Lieutenant?” He chuckled. Riza hummed, burying herself deeper into his hold.
“You’ve been holding your stomach a lot.” Riza’s eyes lazily blinked open, her face twisting ever so slightly in confusion. Her eyes trailed to her stomach, widening when she noticed her arm resting over her stomach.
“I have?” She mumbled, her eyes glued to her middle. Roy pressed his head against her hair. He nodded and sighed, attempting to hide the growing fear in his features. His hand froze against her arm and gave it a hard squeeze.
“What are we going to do?” Roy’s voice was gentle, weak and tinged with quiet panic.
Nevertheless, the question hung like a heavy cloud over the pair. It had been whirling around Riza throughout the hours, tormenting her and poising to blacken her thoughts. It whispered to Roy in the midst of his initial, debilitating panic, sending shivers up his limbs. It was even more deafening than the silence as all they could do was stare dumbfoundedly. Above all else, as the seconds ticked onward and onward it made them feel smaller and more helpless than the smallest ant.
What are we going to do?
Roy felt Riza stiffen against his side. The weariness that had plagued her pale features became hard and stoic. It was a face he knew so well; it was the face she showed the world. As always Roy could see straight through what would otherwise be deemed an emotionless face. He could see the tightness of her lips and her fingernails gripping to her pajama’s. He could see heavy guilt crashing on her shoulders. Her chocolate orbs became clouded with cold darkness and despair.
It was a look he had thought she left long behind her in the blood-soaked sands of Ishval. It was the same look he saw time and time again during the calm after battle.
Riza pulled her knees towards her and brought her gently laced hands to her forehead.
“After you sent me home, I walked around the city for a while.” She began, her voice low and steady. “I was trying to clear my head or distract myself. At a certain point I remembered the doctor explaining to me there were… options.”
Roy’s lungs paused for a beat as Riza attempted to gather her words.
“I see…”
Riza nodded.
“She also said I’m not too far a long to consider this option. After seeing how… how I reacted to the news… she gave me an address to a place that would do the procedure safely and discretely.”
A beat of silence fell over them as Roy’s frame became tenser and tenser, his heart beginning to feel cold. Riza eyes fluttered shut, taking a moment to sort through the jumble of emotions racing in her.
“I walked to the clinic. I don’t know why… I hadn’t considered going until that moment. When I found myself at the door it seemed like the only option. But…” her voice trailed off once more, disappearing into the thin air. She lapsed into muteness once more as memories of that moment flashed. Her face took on an of expression pure, unadulterated shame.
“You couldn’t do it.” Roy stated. Riza remained voiceless as her heavy shame slipped into her stomach, weighting her to the ground. The only reply she could give was a sharp nod. Her eyes remained close and her face colored with ashen remorse as her voice began to return to her.
“I…. I walked in and stood there for God knows how long. I… I don’t really know why I left. It would solve everything. I could have gotten it over and done with, take maybe a week to recover and no one would know. It would be easy enough to pretend I just had a really bad case of food poising or a stomach bug. This could have just been some mistake we would never have to think about again. But….” Riza paused, opening her eyes as she gave Roy a moment to say something. She was greeted with nothing but steady, patient silence and an unusually blank expression. When all she heard was silence, Riza gripped the thin, soft material of her pajamas as if it was the only thing holding her together. She only dared to keep her eyes a head at the open door as she continued to speak.
“Well firstly there’s the fact that what I was about to do is illegal and if I had gotten caught the results would have been the same. You would have been unceremoniously discharged at worst, and I could have ended up in jail. But there was more than that. All I could think was ‘How can I take another life when I’ve taken so many?’. My hands and conscious are forever stained with blood, and I couldn’t bring myself to stain them even more. However…” her voice suddenly became heavy and cracked, as if she was trying with all her might to suppress unforgiving tears.
“This is your child…. My child… Our child… I… I don’t know why… I’m not happy… I can never allow myself to be happy about this… but this is our child and I… I… I don’t know why but… I… I love it. I… just… I couldn’t..” Riza’s voice took on a harsh, quivering edge. Stray tears began to spill down her cheeks as she held her knees even tighter against herself. She remained eerily still as Roy’s thumb gently stroked her cheek, wiping a tear or two from her face. He pressed his forehead against the side of her head, placing a kiss to her cheek bone. It was a blessing Riza only kept her gaze forward. It was all the easier for Roy to hide his own tears that threatened to fall. He wrapped his other arm around her and very slowly began to sway.
“Sush. It’s okay Lieutenant it’s okay.” He murmured.
Roy had no idea who he was trying to comfort, himself or Riza. In the end it didn’t matter who he was trying to sooth, his attempts were wasted. His own heart refused to stop racing and his stomach continued to twist and coil. Riza’s limbs were tense under his hold, her own fear and dread radiating back to him. For a while, they never knew how long, the pair sat in complete and utter silence. Their eyes stared at nothing but the plain apartment spilling out of the open door. Only the sound of Hayate’s steady breathing filled the tense air. The world itself seemed to melt around them. All that remained was the warmth of their bodies, cold tiles and soft fur at their feet.
“This is your child…. My child…. Our Child…”
Riza’s words had sent his heart flying to his throat and all his senses screaming. He found himself blinking rapidly to keep puckering tears at bay. The very idea seemed holy foreign… maybe even unnatural. As he sat on that cold floor with Riza leaning against him, Roy couldn’t escape the feeling he was floating out of his body. The world around him morphed into a strange blur where there was nothing but the snug weight of Riza against him and the sound of the white noise in his head. It roared and blared, causing his head to ache. His limbs were strangely numb and heavy, like dead weights bolting him to the ground. Somehow his hand continued to slowly and gently rub Riza’s arm as if his appendages had a life of their own. Every little action seemed to be controlled by an invisible master pulling a string.
Even his own eyes slipped out of his grasp.
For better or worse his eyes seemed to have a will of their own. Before he had a chance to react Roy’s eyes trailed from the open door to Riza’s stomach.
His mind wanted to recoil at the sight of her perfectly flat stomach. It seemed impossible that anything was amiss with his Lieutenant, let alone that there was a life blooming underneath that flat stomach. He truly wanted to give into the notion he had fallen into some strange and horrible dream. Any moment he would blink open into a world where he wasn’t sitting on a bathroom floor with terror swimming throughout him. He would wake up in a world where everything he had toiled so hard for wasn’t slipping through his fingers.
A dream was the only thing that made sense. After all, in his own brutal reality he would never have a prayer of ascending to Fuhrer if the wrong ears heard whispers of a love child with his subordinate. All of his dreams and honor would be stripped bare. He would find himself back in the shadows once more with nothing but a prayer of one day climbing out or escaping. And Riza… heaven knows what would happen to her. For whatever reason women always seemed to baren the burden and scrutiny of an illicit relationship.
Yet Roy knew it was no dream. The fear and uncertainty clawing at his gut was far too real. The sheer guilt and pain pouring from Riza’s soul was far too unbearable. The hard, frigid tile below him was enough to shatter any illusion of having fallen into a dream. Riza was truly carrying his child… their child. They were truly huddled in an impossibly small bathroom, clinging to each other for dear life. Their carefully crafted lives and tightly held secrets were on the verge of being engulfed and destroyed. She would be forced to do away with the offensive creature one way or another in the cover of tightly sewn lips. Once the evidence was discarded then her life would be finished. If Roy only had a prayer of rebuilding his life, then Riza barely had a hope of coming out the other side. No matter what she did or how hard he would try to help, she would be left to drown in the shadows.
And all because of something that shouldn’t even exist… something that was no bigger than a spec of sand.
It boggled the Major General’s mind how one night of pure pleasure could throw everything into chaos. The longer he stared at that flat stomach the wilder his gut twisted and the louder his mind raced. He wanted to hate the life threatening to disrupt their world. He wanted to do the rational thing and quietly erase their little mistake. He knew he should lift Riza off her feet and guide her too that clinic. He knew he should comfort her and care for her as she healed, and then return to life as if nothing had happened.
More to the point what right did Roy Mustang have to feel any sort of joy or any sort of love? He had destroyed so many lives, leaving countless parents without children and countless children without parents. His hands had taken away the chance for many innocent Ishvalans to experience the thrill of falling in love and the bliss of holding their child.
What right did he have to have a child of his own?
Yes. He wanted to loath their mistake. He truly did.
Yet… as the seconds kept ticking something began to shift. Riza’s words slowly began to take a far stranger and different meaning, morphing into something softer and brighter. The twisting in his stomach turned into flutters. The terror freezing his blood began to warm and melt away. That warmth flowed to his heart, filling every inch of it and slowing it to a soothing rhythm. The white noise screeching in his head began to dim until there was nothing but the sound of gentle breathing. Every part of him suddenly felt lighter and freer.
He suddenly couldn’t escape the notion that, just as Riza had said, that was his child slowly growing inside of her. Even if it was unintentional, it was a life that he had helped create. Moreover, it was created out of a moment of pure exultation and love.
Roy swallowed, his gentle stroking stopping. He let his free hand lumbered towards Riza’s. He watched as it moved to rest on the hand that was still on her stomach, only to freeze and hover above it.
Riza’s brown orbs looked down at that still hand and then back up at Roy. She was greeted with a face as equally strained as it was full of longing. She felt a flutter of hope in her heart at the sight. His tense silence had been deafening and sharp like a knife. Even in her own despair Riza had been waiting to hear him say something- anything. It was clear the news had not been met with delight-that much she had expected. She still had no way to know what was running through his thoughts or what was filling his heart.
Was there some ounce of joy whispering through the darkness?
Was there something resembling love somewhere in his spiraling soul?
Was he scared?
Was he angry?
More importantly was he going to beg her to march back to that brightly lit clinic and take care of their little mistake?
The very thought made her heart run cold.
Riza knew it would be, in theory, the easiest option. She had never imagined slipping into the role of mother, nor she did she feel particularly worthy. Like Roy she too had ruined countless lives from the safety of roofs and her trusty rifle. She had robbed innocent people of the chance to embrace their loved ones and create a life of their own.
How could hands so stained cradle such an innocent creature?
How could a soul so violated be able to love the way a mother should love?
How could a monster be trusted to raise a child not to be the same?
How could a monster be allowed to raise a child at all?
Yet despite all her self-loathing and fear, Riza could not bring herself to march into that clinic. She could not bring herself to rid of her little mistake. The very thought made her turn cold and her heart climb to her throat. Her arm wrapped tighter around her middle, as if to protect the life in there from what may come out of Roy’s mouth. She hoped with all her soul he wouldn’t ask her to do what had become impossible.
No matter how hard reason screamed otherwise, Riza could not rid herself of the child she already loved dearly.
The sight of Roy’s hand hovering over hers sparked a light of hope. Riza couldn’t help but to grab hold of that spark.
“It’s okay. “She whispered, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “There’s nothing there yet but you can feel if you want to.” Riza pulled his hand down and slipped it underneath her thin pajama top. The moment she rested it on top of her bare skin she felt a shock of thrill run through her. His hand was rough and warm against her smooth skin. At first Roy’s touch was stiff and still, resting on top of her like a small dead weight. His pale face matched his touch; rigid and unsure. Riza held her breath as she watched him, waiting to see any shift in the stunned and inflexible being.
It only took a mere moment for that shift to occur.
Riza felt his hand melt into her stomach. His touch became unspeakably tender and careful as his thumb ran across her soft skin. She watched his unbendingly shocked expression vanish into one of childlike wonderment and glowing adoration. It was an expression she rarely saw, only meant for her eyes only in the safety of the world they created. Riza felt her heart beginning to soar as the wonderment and love overtook his features.
Maybe it was an evil trick of the light or her eyes playing games, but Riza could have sworn she noticed tears puckering in the corners of his eyes.
“Our child…” Roy swallowed, his voice oddly dry and hoarse. Riza nodded, allowing her lips to turn into the smallest of smiles as she rested her hand on top of his.
“Yes. Our child.” Tears threatened to spill down the normally stoic soldier’s features as his lips quivered ever so slightly. It was odd seeing the normally controlled man in such a state-going from complete and utter terrified shock to what she could only assume were tears of joy. The man may have a thunderous spirit and she had seen him slip into despair and loose himself in his anger more than once, however, Riza had only seem him rocked to tears once. It was as he stood at the grave of a friend cut down in his prime. She could still see how they caught the sunlight as they trickled down his face. Sitting in that cramped bathroom Riza could see one tear escaping, catching the light above and sparkling. A moment later another tear slipped through and fell the other side of his face.
Riza couldn’t help but hold her small smile as she reached for his cheeks.
“I see it’s raining Colonel.” She said, brushing away the tears sliding down his face. “I hope it’s raining from happiness.” A low chuckle rumbled from Roy’s chest, his lips curling into a crooked grin. He circled his arms around her torso and pulled her as close to him as possible. He pressed his forehead against hers, letting their noses touch. Riza felt herself begin to melt as he brushed his nose against hers and felt his lips press gingerly on hers.
“I don’t know if I’m happy Riza.” Roy began, keeping his eyes closed as he spoke. “Hughes once told me that it’s a universal right for a man to raise a family with the woman he loves… but I don’t know if I can bring myself to believe that. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I deserve to be happy after everything I’ve done. I certainly don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve something…. something like this. To be even more honest I am terrified of what this is going to do to us.” His words momentarily vanished as his soul was laid bare. Riza nodded before placing her lips on his nose.
“I know…” Riza sighed. “I can’t allow myself to be happy either. I’m terrified of what’s going to happen to us as well. But…” Her voice trailed off, unable to scavenge for the words to give life to her intense emotions.
Roy however…
Roy always appeared to know what was buried deep within her without her needing to utter a word. Moreover, he always knew how to ease her soul without even trying.
Roy’s grin widened ever so slightly as his arms wrapped tighter around her middle.
“All I know…” He began, stopping and softly kissing the bridge of her small nose. “All I know is that I love you and that I have loved you for a long time. This child may be a mistake but it’s our mistake that happened because we love each other and… God help me I want to hate it Riza I really do. I wish I could say let’s just go and take care of it but I can’t. I may be crazy but…. I… I… I think I already love it.”
Riza’s tiny smile busted wide open as a laugh tickled her lips. She continued to rub his high cheek bones as she felt his chest rumble with laughter.
“It’s not that crazy Roy.” Her smile dimmed as she carefully chose her next words. “I know we would be crazy not to fix this or at the very least give them to a family who can actually give them a normal, happy life. We would be putting everything we have worked so hard for at risk. I don’t know if I can ever be happy either or even deserve something as wonderful as this. But I know that despite everything I love this baby… and the idea of getting rid of it in any sort of way is unbearable, Roy.”
Roy immediately felt his heart gradually crack as she spoke. Once her words had ceased, he peppered every inch of her face and neck with kisses. Riza’s hands slid away from his face and down his back until her hands were pressed against its strong muscles. She held him tightly as Roy continued to kiss her face until he found his away back to her lips. They hovered over hers, taking in their softness and warmth. She could feel him smiling against her face and his eye lashes flutter against her.
“I don’t want you to get rid of it either.” Roy claimed softly.
“I could just retire.” Riza cautiously suggested. “You could still continue on with your goal and”
“No.” Roy shook his head. “That would still look suspicious and even if we lied through out teeth it would still be clear that you were pregnant before you retired. We would still be breaking the fraternization laws.” Riza frowned, her fingers digging into Roy’s stiff white shirt and burying her face in his chest.
“It’s not fair.” She muttered as tears began to fall.
Roy felt himself begin to boil.
She was right.
She was ALWAYS right.
It was brutally unfair.
Even if one of them stepped away from their positions it would not release them from the walls that had kept them apart. They would not be safe from the eyes of the law no matter what they did.
Roy kissed Riza’s temple before he pulled her to his lap. The hotly independent woman didn’t protest. Riza nuzzled her head against his chest, dissolving into his warm strength. Roy’s chest puffed with a animalistic determination and will to protect. His gentle hold abruptly grew fierce and defensive as he pressed his lips on her temple once more.
“I love you and I love our child Riza.” Roy stated, digging his fingers into her thick sun kissed mane. “I promise will do whatever I can to protect you both.” He vowed
Riza blinked open her eyes and stared up at his alabaster face. There was something eerily similar about the way they were situated on her bathroom floor. The way Roy cradled her, the way she nuzzled her head against his chest as she smiled weakly. Even his soft expression and tender eyes brought her back to a dark room, and the relief she had survived a cold blade slashing her neck wide open.
In that quiet moment as he smiled lovingly at her and held her close to his chest, Riza felt that same rush of relief.
No mattered what happened, they would find a way to come out on the other side just as they always had.
No matter what happened, they would have each other and hopefully their baby… and that was enough.
Katara. I see so much of myself in her. And while I'm as white as white gets, my hair is just like hers and having grown up in an area where most of the kids I went to school with were blonde, it would have made me feel more comfortable with myself as kid. Too bad I was too stubborn to give it a chance back then.
3. Which element would you bend if you could chose?
Water!
4. What's your favorite nation?
Water.... again.
5. What makes you love ATLA the most?
This is such a hard question to answer. I think the first thing that always has to attract me-especially with a story that is kind of action and fight based-is the characters and the story. More or less there has to be substance beyond cool action and fight scenes, and thankfully Avatar is full of substance. It's plot about war, love, life and loss is just amazing.
Could get you attacked questions:
1. What's your least favorite character from the gaang?
If I HAD to pick... Suki. Now that doesn't mean I don't like her because I really do, but just not as much as the other four.
2. What character you think it's severely underrated?
Suki! I feel like she is severely underrated not just in the fandom at times but even with in the show. I get the creators only had so much time and a lot of story to fit in that time but I would have loved to see her more utilized and explored.
3. What's your least favorite nation?
God help my for saying this but the Air Nation. There's just something about both the nation and the element that just doesn't interest me as much as water, earth and fire.
4. What's your controversial ATLA opinion?
1: Even though Azula is clearly a victim of her father, it was clear she had those cold, violent and cruel tendencies to begin with. She's just not a good person and did horrible and unforgivable things-yes things worse than Zuko. There is a big difference between Zuko being lost and doing what he did out of a desperation to go home and have his "honor" back again and Azula taking over cities, threatening to kill people left and right and manipulating them... I could go on. Yeah I don't like her and I didn't from the beginning. I personally don't she deserves or needs a redemption arc.
2: Ursa was not and is not a bad mother. I think she was stuck in a terrible situation. She was forced to marry a monster who is abusive at least emotionally (I can't remember any physical abuse but it wouldn't shock me if it was there). Azula was a troubled child-she was even hurting animals as we can see from when Zuko showed Ursa how she "feeds" the ducks. Do I think Ursa could have not said things "What is wrong with that child?" Yes. Do I think she should have, for instance, praised Azula for her demonstration of her skills in front of their grandfather like she did Zuko? Yes. However she was also the ONLY one who tried to set boundaries with Azula and attempted to teach her right from wrong. She may have made mistakes, but I have no doubt in my heart that she was trying to help Azula.
On a side note I don't think her erasing her memory was selfish. Sure of being able to still see her kids in secret was nice, but I can't imagine how much it would hurt to only be able to see your kids in the shadows, to be not be able to hold them and let them know you're there and still love them. Plus combine that with all the trauma Ozai put her through... I don't blame her.
Shipping questions:
1. What's your favorite ship and why?
Are we talking cannon ships? If we're talking cannon ships than Aang x Katara. From the beginning there is an earnest, sweet and sincere quality about their relationship. I love that they start as friends and they build such deep trust with each other. I love it. Plus their family (while yes flawed as so many families are) is adorable.
If we're talking semi cannon/ who the hells really knows besides the creators but I don't care either way ships, Tokka all the way. Again I love that they start out not just as friends butt hey have one of the best friendships in the show. They're chemistry is amazing and it's obvious Toph has a not so little crush on them. I will add though I approve of their ship when they're OLDER-like they're bot over 18 older, just because Toph is 12 in the show and Sokka is 15.
And before you say anything no for some reason the age difference between Aang and Katara doesn't bother me as much, don't ask me why I don't really know.
2. What's your least favorite ship and why?
Before I begin I just want to say this is my opinion and I respect people's ships even if I don't personally like them or agree with them. Now with that said...*Inhales deeply* Zultara. I don't really like Zultara. *ducks to avoid flames coming my way* It's not that I don't see the potential of the ship, and its' not that they don't have their moments because they do. The reason I don't like them as a ship is because of their history. Zuko was pretty horrible to Katara, constantly attacking her and her brother and Aang and HOW many times did he call her a peasant? And let's not forget he did send someone to KILL them? I understand that he grows and changes and becomes the good person is always was, but as someone who was bullied horrendously by someone people used to joke I was going to marry, I'm not a fan of that kind of dynamic.
3. Do you sometimes self-insert?
Nope, because I'm 26 and they're all teenagers so no thank you.
4. What's your crack ship?
I don't really have one, it's just not something I even considered.
5. Which non canon ship would you make happen if you were the creator?
Tokka!!!!! Tokka! TTTTTTTOOOOOOKKKKAAAA!! Okay so it's not necessarily "non cannon" per say and if you ask me I totally think Suyin is Sokka's daughter and SOMETHING had to have happened between them. However since because as far as the show and comics go anything outside of Toph's little crush is only implied really... I'm just going with it.
So yeah... Tokka!!!
Anybody can do it and you can chose if you want just one section. You can skip a question if you don't like it or don't find it interesting.
The answers can be as detailed as you want them to be.
OOO! I think I shall do to introduce myself to the FMA fandom, as I haven’t really be active in this fandom… at all and I think it’s a fun way to get to know people.
1.) What type of Alchemy would you use?- Probably a water or earth kind’ of alchemy.
2.) What would your state alchemist codename be?- The Sea Alchemist… -_- I’m not very good at this whole naming thing.
3.) Would you serve in the military?- Ummmm…. Probably not. I’m not cut out for the military. They probably wouldn’t want me anyway :3
4.) Alchemist/Engineer/Soldier?- Alchemist :D
5.) Would you commit the taboo?- Depending on who passed away, I may be tempted, but in the end I wouldn’t do it.
6.) Favorite character?- 0_0 Too… hard
7.) brOTP?- Either Mustang and Hughes or Edward and Ling.
8.) OTP?- Flip flops between Edwin and Royai
9.) Which theme song do you find yourself singing the most/the catchiest?- Number Five!!
10.) FMA or FMAB?- Both, I like both. I think as a whole FMAB is the better between the two but there’s A LOT to enjoy about FMA. That’s a whole different post for another time though
11.) nOTP?- Edward and Roy -_- I’m sorry but no.. just no
12.) Character you’re most like/relate to?- Hmmm… I would have to say Winry, minus the engineering but I have a lot of Ed in me…in the sense that I’m a shorty and I tend to be very sensitive about it… and I do get very annoyed when people point it out.
14.) Who (which character) do you look the most like?- Uh…. I look like Winry but with dark wavy/curly hair (like Rebeca) and dark eyes.
15.) Black Hayate or Den?- I shall not choose between two dogs. :/
16.) Favorite deadly sin?- Gluttony or Sloath… in many ways I am the epitome of both.
17.) Who would you want as your parents?- Edward and Winry or Roy and Riza!
18.) Who would you want as your child(ren)?- Al, Ed and Winry
19.) Part that made you cry the most?- Hughes being burried… Nina when her dad got killed by Scar
So I did this post about five years ago if memory serves me, and I thought it would be fun to see if any of my opinions have changed.
Please feel free to put your own answers! Original post is in this thread.
1.) What type of Alchemy would you use?- Water or Earth I think.
2.) What would your state alchemist codename be?- The Siren probably because of my singing.
3.) Would you serve in the military?- I am 5'1 and extremely overweight and my athletic ability I have any skill or stamina in is swimming so even if I wanted to they wouldn't take me. But I also don't want to.
4.) Alchemist/Engineer/Soldier?- Alchemist!
5.) Would you commit the taboo?- I've experienced a lot of loss since the last time I did this post and I can tell you as much as it hurts I wouldn't commit it.
6.) Favorite character?- Roy Mustang. I got a kitten about two and half months ago and I freaking named him Roy.
7.) brOTP?- Hughes and Mustang and Edward and Ling.
8.) OTP?- Royai supremacy all the way-with Edwin right behind them.
9.) Which theme song do you find yourself singing the most/the catchiest?- Gun to my head number five or number two.
10.) FMA or FMAB?- FMAB all the way. There's a lot of good concepts in FMA and it has a stronger opening section but it goes off the rails as it goes on. Plus that ending REALLY pissed me off. I just enjoy Brotherhood's tight plot and the ending is just perfection. It's what keeps me coming back.
11.) nOTP?- Edward and Roy because obvious reasons. Also just for good measure Edward and Al because they are literal brothers.
12.) Character you’re most like/relate to?- I know this has changed as I've gotten older. I definitely still see a lot of Winry in myself (obsessive, bubbly) and I still got some Edward in me (the ambition, the determination, the short temper and hatred of short jokes and people pointing out their short), but I've gotten older I see more and more of myself in Riza. First of all I've always been the mother of the group like she is, despite my outwardly bubbly personality I'm very introverted and serious and as a Taurus I am stubborn as hell. I don't know I've just grown to see a lot of myself in Riza.
14.) Who (which character) do you look the most like?- Again now that I'm an adult I would say mostly Riza with some features from Rebbca thrwon in-when I am healthy weight my body shape is the same as hers, my face shape is the same, our eyes are the same color, I have a little nose like she does... the major difference is I have dark curly hair like Rebecca and unlike Riza my eyes are trash so I need glasses.
15.) Black Hayate or Den?- How freaking dare anyone make me choose between two dogs?!! I will NEVER!!!
16.) Favorite deadly sin?- Favorite? Well I guess Greed and Envy as they have the best character arcs. If we're talking about which Sloth and Gluttony.
17.) Who would you want as your parents?- Edward or Winry seem like they would be fun parents.
18.) Who would you want as your child(ren)?- Al and Winry because for how much of a good bean Edward is I feel sorry for anyone remotely in charge of him.
19.) Part that made you cry the most?- Hughes being buried and when Winry opens the door and see the brother's with their bodies again.
20.) Least favorite character?-Tucker and Pride.
21.) Your favorite FMA AU? I guess an AU where Roy and Riza don't have to worry about fraternization laws and can just be a happy couple with a beautiful home and children and live the happy life they deserve but don't think they do? I haven't really gotten into any AU's to this day.
Hello my lovelies! So this is a result of me making a timeline and list of people's ages for the story I'm working on, and after I noticed there were no official birthdays for the characters I used my growing interest in astrology to come up with whatever the hell this is.
Just be aware that I am not doing ALL the characters, most of it is random, and with some of these characters I'm just guessing their ages and will probably be WWWAAAYY of but MEH... I tried
Please chime in what you would think and give your opinion if you have one! I'm really curious.
Edward:
February 3rd, 1899:
This was the only technically official birthday I could find. This would make Edward and Aquarius which uh I can attest from having an Aquarius Grandmother is accurate. He's stubborn, extremely hot tempered, extremely intelligent, a big thinker, closed off emotionally... the list goes on.
Winry:
December 3rd, 1899:
Winry just SCREAMS Sagittarius. She is bubbly, independent (I read somewhere about them loving freedom) and optimistic. Obviously everyone is their own person with their own personality by most of the Sagittarius's I've met have been just as wonderful and as she is. Plus fun fact the date I chose is Amanda Seyfried's birthday, who could have pass for Winry when she was younger.
Alphones:
July 3rd, 1900 (side note I didn't mean to pick a lot of threes... just an accident): There is a simple reason I think Alphones is a Cancer, and that is mainly because he reminds me of the Cancers I know if my life-which basically means he is the kindest and softest cinnamon role. He's definitely doesn't fit the stereotype of Cancers bring the cry baby's of the Zodiacs but he is definitely more emotional and just all around softer than Edward. He's also loyal and protective and can be just a moody as Edward. My Grandfather, who I never got to meet was a Cancer and that's where I got the birthday from.
Roy:
April 14th, 1885: Besides the obvious fact that Aries is a fire sign.... I'm just gonna leave this brief description;
"Aries are entrepreneurial, independent and creative. They have the nerve to get things started and can be inspiring leaders. Their crackling energy is infection, and they are children at heart, buzzing with the force of life itself."
I rest my case
Riza
May 13th, 1889
I'm a Taurus myself and the birthday I chose is my own if my user name wasn't a give away (I know I know), but to be frank I do a little Taurus qualities. She's very kind and soft hearted despite being very reserved, very down to Earth, saying she's loyal is an understatement, is a hard worker, intimidatingly angry when provoked, and this is the big one-admittedly stubborn. She is very much a girl after my own heart.
Maes
August 4th, 1889
This man... this beautiful... beautiful man... radiates the best qualities of a Leo. As I did with his counter part and best buddy Roy I'm just gonna leave a brief description of a Leo's personality;
"Like a crackling fire, Leo's tend to be warm, passionate, and dynamic. They delight in opportunities to let their charismatic, inclusive personality shine. And like the lion that represents them Leo's are also strong, brave and ready to dominate everything they set out to do."
And I can't believe I'm saying this but can we get an F in the chats for this beautiful man who deserved so much better.
I wanted to do more but I opened my computer yesterday and saw cracks that weren't there before and I wanted to get this out so maybe a part two?
ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMESTRIS-CHAPTER ONE-THE ATOM BOMB
~ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMESTRIS~
~CHAPTER ONE~
~THE ATOMIC BOMB~
Riza Hawkeye’s boots clanked against the smooth, cold stone floor as she moved down the ornate halls she knew so well. Her broad shoulders were held tall and erect. Her thick blonde mane was pulled off her neck. She held her head high, keeping her gaze steely and her large chocolate eyes straight ahead. A frigid air of authority hovered around the Major, keeping all others at bay. Some would glance her way with timid eyes or offer a small, cordial smile. Some who had broken into the elite circle she moved in greeted her with a stiff salute and brisk “Good morning Major.” In return she would respond with an equally stiff salute and a tight smile.
All the while Riza refused to drop the icy, distant aura engulfing her. It was her only protection from prying, curious eyes. Whether it was due to her air of authority or her harden gaze she was given a wide girth.
All for the best.
It meant no one noticed how faded and pallor her ivory skin looked. No one saw how her calloused hands gripped the files she held for dear life. No one was able to detect the weariness and terror burning beneath those steady eyes.
Not a soul knew… and that was precisely how Riza wanted it. Sweet, beautiful ignorance was all that kept her moving forward. It allowed her to meander through her day as if nothing was wrong.
As long as she kept moving forward everything would be fine.
“Just keep moving. Just keep moving”
Riza repeated the words on an endless loop, letting them skin deep into her bones. On and on the mantra went with each clacking step in the vein hope it was a reality.
None of it mattered.
The Major couldn’t drown the knot clawing at her stomach. It radiated throughout her body, slowly infecting the chant circling in her head. It reminded her of an ugly truth she had been trying to steal into the depths of her soul;
Nothing was fine.
Nothing was fine, and there was no possible way for her to right it.
The brutal reality smacked her square in the face when her journey came to an end.
Riza found herself face to face with a pair of large, dark sumptuous doors. For a moment all she could do was stare at the intricate cravings and listen to her pounding heart. She could already feel her limbs and muscles grow numb. Her blood slowed to ice, sending shivers throughout her body. The sea of chatter and stomping boots morphed into nothing but roaring static.
Riza’s lips pursed into a hard line. She dug her nails into the abused files, letting her chest heave with a large breath. With a short, rapid blink she reached towards the cool handle and pushed the door open.
She was greeted by a large, open room swimming in sunlight. Despite her drumming heart and fragile nerves, Riza’s lips fought the urge to smile.
Everything about the airy room was blessedly mundane; everything from the grand window to the emerald chairs were unspeakably soothing. The symphony of scratching pens, rustling papers and screaming phones sliced through the wall of static. She felt a twinge of warmth as familiar voices danced in her ears.
This benign setting was almost enough to break through the wall she had erected. Her lips almost dared to turn into a small, friendly smile… until one voice rose above the chatter.
“Major General Mustang.”
The moment the deep, warm, baritone voice danced in her ears all warmth faded. Riza’s iron barriers were impenetrable once more. Every inch of her frame was numb and frigid. In fact, Riza could have sworn she felt her lungs contract and her heart stop.
The whole world stopped.
Riza swallowed, readjusting the files clutched to her chest. She kept her shoulders tight and square. The wall morphed into rigid steel, cloaking the fear screeching in her head.
The only spark of relief came from the fact she was a fly on the wall.
All eyes were focused on the scattered sheets of paper and other various task. All were ignorant of the creaking door or Riza’s creaking steps. Even the illustrious Major General-who always seemed to know the sound of her boots and stiff gate-was occupied with the phone in his hands.
Riza kept her head down as she pulled out her chair and sat. She quietly placed her paperwork in front of her and dived deep into them.
Rigid and regular… there was nothing out of the ordinary about the thin sheets of stark white paper resting before her. The small, ebony letters were neat and orderly. Riza could feel her heart rate begin to slow and her soul begin to relax, even with the Major General’s voice prattling behind her. If her attention held to the work before her all the wave of emotions and thoughts would fade into nothing.
“Oh, good morning Major Hawkeye.” Lieutenant Havoc said, taking a long drag of his beloved cigarette. Riza held up her hand and gave a small wave, ignoring the sudden swirling in her stomach.
“Good morning Lieutenant Havoc. If you don’t mind, please don’t smoke near me.” She mindlessly batted the powerfully foul smoke away from her face. The tall, strong framed blonde cocked his head. His cornflower blue eyes narrowed. Havoc crossed his arms over his broad chest as he reached up and plucked the offensive object from his thin lips.
“I’m sorry Major. I didn’t think you minded.” Havoc claimed, snuffing out his cigarette.
“She’s probably tired of all the secondhand smoke. I think we all are at this point.” A short, stocky auburn hair man barked. The room filled with mundane, comfortable chuckles. Any other day Riza would have felt the corner of her lips twitch into the smallest of smiles and her eyes roll.
On that brisk late winter day Riza remained detached, her dark eyes frozen to her safe, familiar work.
“Ha ha very funny Breda.” Havoc drawled, sitting his tall frame back in the chair. “Hey, isn’t tomorrow bring your dog to work day?” He questioned. Havoc tilted his up to gaze at the ceiling, tapping his finger to his chin. “I’m sure my big shepherd dog would love to meet you.”
“DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT!” Breda shrieked, leaping out of his chair as all color drained from his tanned skin.
The Major remained unphased by the bickering, letting the sharp words and biting laughter roll off her shoulders. Her lips collapsed into a hard line, her ivory skin growing paler. Had anyone glanced her way they would have seen the green tint to her skin.
Much to her relief the room remained buzzing.
Havoc and Breada continued their banter, forgoing any attempt at feigning interest in their jobs.
Then there was second Lieutenant Fury. The pale, dark haired man was the smallest and frailest of the men. His bespectacled face was lost in his radio, his expert hands tinkering away.
There was First Lieutenant Falman. The graying man was the only officer who showed and ounce of Riza’s tireless drive. His large frame was slumped over his desk, his pen diligently scratching on smooth paper.
Finally, there was Major General Roy Mustang.
Though she refused to glance his way or acknowledge his existence, Riza could all to clearly picture the esteemed man. He was leaning back in his chair, his legs and arms both crossed. One hand gripped the phone and held it to his squared face. A pen dangled carelessly between the rough fingers of his other hand. His mess of midnight hair fell effortlessly into his moon slit, onyx eyes.
The very thought of Roy made Riza’s heart sputter, and all the tension in her body climb to her throat. Every fiber of her being wanted-no needed- to fool herself into believing he didn’t exist. His very presence sent her heart flying and her soul mad. Her fingers ached to run through his ebony mane. Her skin tingled for his fingers to trace every inch of her. Her lips burned. Riza wanted to ignore him and the fire he ignited deep within herself.
Yet it was impossible to block his baritone tones tickling her ears.
It was impossible to neglect the panic tearing her stomach apart.
If she didn’t know any better, Riza could have sworn her stomach was nothing more than liquid.
Riza’s pen came to halt as her stomach gave a violent churn. Burning bile climbed up her throat. Any remaining color fell from her oval face. A vile green hue possessed her alabaster features.
“Not now.” She thought, her free hand flying to her stomach. Her eyes fluttered shut as her breathing grew slow and labored. She staid as still as stone, praying her tumbling stomach would settle. Riza forced her eyes open. She willed her quivering hands to move-yet her stomach continued to swim.
Finally, the bile burst into her mouth. Without a second thought the Major rose from her chair and bounded to the door, bursting it open.
“Major?! Are you okay?” Fury cried, shooting up from his chair. All officers gazed at the open door, taking in the grand expanse of the humming hallway. Their faces were etched with stunned concern. Even Roy-who had otherwise been occupied with his phone call-gawked at the door, letting the phone slip through his fingers. He stood up, letting his hands fall to his desk.
“Okay… something is up with her.” Breda said, echoing what everyone else had been thinking.
“Yeah. Come to think of it wasn’t she late because of a doctor’s appointment she made at the last minute?” Havoc mused, bringing his hand to his chin once more. Roy blinked for a moment, the gears in his head slowly churning.
A last-minute doctor’s appointment…
Her request for Havoc to stop smoking around her…
A sudden bout of nausea…
Roy’s eyes widened as the dots quickly began to connect.
Could it be….
The Major General shook his head and waved his hand.
“She’s fine. I’m sure it’s just a bug.” He claimed. He happily let the words replace any stray thought and shield him from the curious stares around him.
“Back to work!” Roy barked, plopping back into his chair. Like the obedient underlings they were, each officer gave a salute and returned to their task. Roy leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. His full lips curled into a satisfied, demonic grin. His chest bloomed with pride at the ordinary, mundane scene before him.
These were his men, his closest confidants and most trusted allies. They had saved the world together, and now they were fighting to keep their new, fragile peace together.
Not only was a new world being forged from the bones of bloodshed and loss, but their whole way of life was also up in the air.
Fuhrer King Grumman had slipped into the heavens almost a year ago, and much to the surprise of an entire nation the throne continued to remain empty.
This new world was full of chaos, uncertainty, hope and above all else opportunity.
And all of it was happening under his watchful eye.
“MAJOR GENERAL!! MAJOR GENERAL MUSTANG!” Roy jumped out of his skin, his heart exploding. He bent down and yanked the phone, thrusting it back into his ear.
“My apologies sir. I dropped the phone and got distracted by one of my officers. Continue, please.” The voice on the other end continued to twiddle and piddle about this and that and this and that. The words went in one ear and out the other as a soft hiss. His eyes were focused on the open door, waiting for a certain Major’s comforting and stoic features. He needed to hear her calm, commanding voice amongst the chatter.
God help him, but he wanted to hear that voice scold him into productivity.
He just wanted to see if she was okay.
When Riza made her way back into the room, his anxiety began to peak. The blond moved as if nothing had happened. Her shoulders were tall and stiff, her head was held high, and her hands were clasped behind her back. Riza was every inch the perfect soldier.
Yet the very sight of her sent Roy’s heart falling into his stomach.
Her skin was as white as bone, colored with a pale green hue. There was a line of sweat dotting her temples and brow. Her deep, chocolate eyes were glazed and stared at nothing.
“Hey, Major, are you okay?” Havoc asked, his blue eyes glued to her as she returned to her seat.
“I’m fine.” Riza claimed, lifting her pen and scribbling as if she hadn’t just emptied her stomach.
“Are you sure?” Havoc leaned in, taking in the major’s feeble features. “You look kind of green. And didn’t you go to the doctors this morning”
Riza’s pen froze, and her eyes narrowed. She took in a breath of air through her nose as she slowly raised her head.
“Were you listening to my private conversations First Lieutenant Havoc?” Riza questioned, her voice low and frigid. Havoc threw up his hands and pushed his chair far away from the glaring Major.
“No no! I didn’t do anything like that I just”
“Relax Havoc I’m not going to shoot you.” Riza sighed. “I did go to the doctor and it was kind of last minute, but it was just a normal appointment-nothing serious. As for what just happened the doctor thinks I have a touch of a stomach bug, but I’ll be fine.”
Roy’s eyes narrowed and zeroed in on the major. He watched her return to her stack of files, ignoring the chittering voice in his ear. He paid close attention to her movements, the cloudiness in her eyes and her trembling frame.
“Major General are you listening to me?!” Roy glanced towards the phone and held it away from his face.
“I’m sorry General I’m going to have to call you back.” Before the voice on the other end had the chance to destroy his ear drum, he slammed the phone on its hook.
“Rotten bastard trying to make me go deaf” He muttered.
“Major General did you just hang up on General Schmidt?” Riza asked, looking at Roy with a sober face.
“Yeah, I did, and I’ll pay for it later.” Roy claimed. He stood up and without a word made his way out of the room.
His officers looked at each other, their confusion radiating throughout the large room. The bewilderment in the air only grew thicker when the Major General marched in with a cup of water clasped in his hand. Roy went straight to Riza and placed the cup beside her.
“You are going to drink this cup of water and they you are going home to recover.” Riza stiffened, her fingernails digging into the thin paper.
“With all due respect sir I am perfectly”
“Are you disobeying a direct order from your superior Major Hawkeye?” Roy asked, leaning in closer to her. Riza froze, her eyes narrowing into a glare. For a moment, the two locked eyes as they attempted to dig into each other’s souls. After her stomach gave another, violent churn Riza’s iron resolve broke.
“Of course not sir.” She brought the cup to her lips, taking a large gulp of water. The cool liquid soothed her scratchy, aching throat. It seemed to give her a new surge of life. She would never say as such out loud, but she was thankful for Major General’s god given gift to avoid work.
“Just let me finish working on the file I started and then I’ll go.” Roy nodded, his lips twisting int a victorious smirk.
“Thank you Major. I hope you know I am just looking out for your wellbeing.” Roy claimed as he strode pridefully back to his desk.
“Yes sir, that’s very kind of you.” Riza nodded, busily jotting away. Roy continued to smize, his ego expanding like a balloon.
“I hope you know that most of these files need to be completed and taken to various departments today, and since everyone else is occupied and I’m not going to be here you’re going to have to finish them.”
Silence fell over the room as all eyes turned towards the still smizing Roy Mustang. He blinked at Riza for a moment, all thoughts vanishing as her words threatened to slap him back to reality.
“I’m sorry but why would I have to do YOUR files Major?” He chuckled, his ego only continuing to grow by the second.
Riza lifted her head and turned her focus on the smirking Major General. Gone was any trace of how ill she had felt. Her gaze was no longer lost and glassy, her expression free from mark of exhaustion and sweat. Roy was faced with a cold, clear stare that threatened to go to the jugular of his massive pride.
“But sir you forget that these files are for you and I’m simply helping you lighten your workload by handling them for you. So yes, you will have to do them.”
The famous-or infamous-ego popped, causing Roy’s chest to deflate. His shoulders slumped and his head hung.
“God damn it.” He muttered, letting his head fall into his hands.
Riza let her lips curl into the faintest of smiles as she continued to sip the water. Light snickers filled the room as Roy pondered his life choices.
Particularly the one where he taught Riza how to expertly forge his signature.
He lifted his head when he heard Riza’s foots clanking towards him. He found himself greeted with an outstretch hand a clean, if slightly abused, manila file held out towards him. He scowled before snatching it out of her hand.
“I appreciate your generosity today Major General.” Riza said, straightening her stance and planting her feet together. “I did finish that file as I said I would. However, I would appreciate if you would give it a quick look over. “She stated. Roy’s ebony eyes hardened as he lips twisted with aggravation.
In all the years she had worked under him Riza’s work had been nothing short of perfection. She was usual the eyes he trusted to look over his work.
What kind of game was she playing?
“Really? You want me to look this over?” He questioned in a slow, careful draw. Riza gave a sharp nod.
“Yes Sir.”
“And you want me to do it right now?”
Another nod.
“Yes, Sir that would be preferable.”
Roy huffed, causing strands of his wild mane to fly off his face.
When he opened the folder, he expected to be greeted by the depressingly familiar sight of paper work filled in Riza’s expert hand.
What he saw instead were those papers underneath a small note.
Come to my place AFTER you finish your work. We need to talk.
Roy snapped to attention, his back straight against his soft leather chair. His eyes grew wide as color slowly began to drain from his face. His limbs went cold. The dots he had tried to ignore once again began to connect, sending his heart into a marathon.
“She couldn’t be… She can’t be…”
“Is there a problem Sir?”
Roy raised his head, his eyes still wide with shock. The Major continued to stand still the only way a soldier could, her eyes never leaving his pale face. It took every ounce of power for Roy’s eyes to stay connected to hers and not travel to her seemingly unassuming abdomen. Every instinct screamed for him to grab her arm, drag her far away and force her to say what he already knew.
What did the illustrious Major General, former war hero and savior of his nation do?
He carefully slipped the note in his pocket, closed the file, placed it on his desk and cleared his throat.
“No. Your work is perfection as always Major Hawkeye. Everything is fine.” Roy claimed. He stood, mimicking Riza’s stoic posture. The look of pure incredulity and shock had melded into the cold, professional features they all knew so well.
“That will be all today. You are dismissed with orders to rest, understood?”
Riza gave one last nod, clicked her heels together and saluted.
“Sir.” Roy copied her salute before she turned and strode out of the shining room. All eyes were on her as she faded into the crowd. Then, much to Roy’s horror, their perplexed, suspicious gazes all landed on him. Roy felt as if a spotlight had been shone on him, making his skin begin to crawl. Those eyes all seemed to ask one, central question’
“What the hell is going on?”
If they expected any answer they were sorely mistaken.
Mustang’s cold professionalism turned hard, his eyes narrowing once more and his face tightening with aggravation.
“What on Earth are you all staring at?” He roared, marching over to Riza’s desk and grabbing her files.
“I have a lot of work to do and so do you! So get back to work so we may have a prayer of getting out on time or maybe earlier!”
The hours seemed to climb at a pace that would put a snail to shame. Every time Roy glanced at the clock expecting hours to have flown by, he was horrified to see only minutes or even seconds had passed. It stung like a bee. Each sheet of paper he was forced to glance over, and sign was another weight on his frame, keeping him glued to his god forsaken chair. Roy wasn’t even sure he was aware of what he was reading. The words just seemed to fly by in a strange blur without the chance to truly settle in. As long as nothing jumped out as particularly reckless or idiotic Roy was more than happy to robotically sign each slip of paper if it meant freedom from that chair.
It didn’t help that whenever he dared to glance away from his work or the clock Roy found himself greeted with cautious, questioning stares. Their eyes would meet for a split second before they immediately darted back to their work.
The tension in the room grew thicker and thicker with each tick of the clock. Roy was uncharacteristically zealous in his attempt at productivity, plowing through the thick pile as if it were nothing but water. His subordinates continued to work while they watched and whispered. Their curious eyes and ears hunted for any clues or any scrap of information. It was clear from the Major General’s tense posture there was something brewing under that stoic face.
No one dared to raise their suspicions or even concern for their comrade. The day continued in heavy, graceless silence that could be cut with a knife. Only the sound of shuffling papers, scratching pens, ringing phones and the conversations that followed rose in the tense atmosphere.
All the while Roy forced himself to focus on anything else but the growing dread in his gut and his racing thoughts.
It was pointless.
Despite his robotic actions all his mind could focus on was Riza.
The sudden bouts of nausea…
The last-minute doctor appointment…
And above all else the note commanding him to her place.
If his suspicions hadn’t been raised before, that simple note said all it needed to say.
What Roy needed more than anything else to hear Riza say the words out loud, to confirm what he had been speculating throughout the day.
It was pure torture to have the truth dangling just above him, taunting him with its uncertainty.
And then, after hours and hours of this suffocating madness it was over. Roy reached for yet another file, taking a moment to glance at the clock yet again. Much to his intense relief the hands pointed in the direction he had been longing for all day.
5:00.
Roy eyes glanced back to the file. It seemed that as soon as one was completed another was added on top of it. As a result the Major General had barely made a dent despite all his hard work. For a moment he was left sitting and glaring, wondering how none of this could be done by any of the other souls wondering the halls. More to the point it left him with two options.
As he continued to sit and pout the many soldiers, officers and their staff were leaving the confinements of the garishly ornate building to the regular world. They would return to their family, their friends and their lives. Roy’s subordinates were no different… he was no different.
Yet Riza’s simple note weighed him down to the chair. It didn’t matter how urgent matter seemed to be-and if his fears were correct, it was a horrifically urgent matter-Riza would show no mercy if she found left his work uncompleted and unattended.
He grimaced. There was no question with path he would take.
Roy dropped the file on top of the pile. He pushed back his chair and stood, giving his shoulders a great stretch. His subordinates looked on with trepidation as he waltzed his way to the coat rack.
“I know we haven’t finished our work yet but it’s 5:00 and it’s Friday.” Roy began. He grabbed his long black coat and slung it over his shoulders. He slipped in his arms and gave it a tug. He had expected to hear a chorus of chairs scrapping against the floor and joyful chatter. At the very least one of the men should have exclaimed their thankfulness to God for having a Friday evening to themselves.
Instead, he was greeted with a dumbfounded silence and perplexed stares.
“What?!” Roy snapped, swinging his head over his shoulder. “Is there a problem?”
His subordinates exchanged glances each other. They stared for a tense a moment as Roy glowered down at them.
Havoc was the one to break the silence. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips, just waiting to be ignited.
“Well not really.” Havoc said. He reached for his trusty lighter and flicked it, bringing his cigarette to life. All the while he remained unbothered by the Major Generals relentless glare.
“It’s just that weren’t we supposed to get all of this done BEFORE we left. Or you know… at least YOU were supposed to?” Havoc questioned. He took an impossibly long drag of his cigarette as all eyes bore on him. Roy crossed his arms, his stormy glare exploding into outright aggravation. Roy’s hands balled into fist as his lips curled into a snarl.
“Lieutenant Havoc you let ME worry about my own business!” Roy swung his head forward and he grabbed hold of his hips. He marched out of the room with a face so red and boiling steam seemed to pour out of his ears. He left his men gaping in awe as he stormed away. The bustling hallways seemed to part like the red sea as thundered past them. He was once more the subject of the world’s prying eyes and hushed whispers… as if he couldn’t see or hear any of it.
“What has gotten into him?”
“None of your damn business you brown noser.”
“I don’t know he’s always mad about something.”
“I am NOT!!!”
“Major Hawkeye left early today didn’t she? Maybe that has something to do with it.”
“Yeah maybe.”
Roy stuffed his hands in his pocket as he continued to weave through the cold, stony gaze. He kept his head forward, refusing to look at any of the people gawking at him. He tried to keep the chittering whispers at bay, turning them into nothing but maddening background noise.
After all Roy was perfectly used to the baseless gossip that surrounded him. One does not become a Major General when approaching 33 without the ire of the public and the lashing of their tongues. It didn’t matter how far he climbed or what he had sacrificed for his country and his people.
They would always stare.
They would always murmur and mutter.
Under routine circumstances this attitude wouldn’t have resulted in more than a smirk of satisfaction.
On that bracing, shining day when his life seemed on the verge of chaos once again it all seemed pointless.
There were far more greater things for him to worry about than mindless banter.
However, when Roy finally left the world of the military and entered normality his shoulders felt lighter. His whole being felt lighter. It was as if the thin, frigid winter air filled his lungs and breathed new life into him. Maybe it was the glowing sun shining on his alabaster skin that made him feel at peace and melt the tension riddling his body. Or maybe it was the bustling, breathing world of East City that distracted his wandering thoughts. It was harder to become lost in his thoughts with so much life buzzing around him. More to the point it allowed him to fade into the background, become one of many despite his elevated stature. Not a soul seemed to care that the Flame Alchemist was walking on the same cobbled streets they did. He used this beautiful moment of clarity and anonymity to take the note out of his pocket and read it once more.
We need to talk.
Roy lifted his eyes from the note with a blank face and steady eyes. The small and all to monumental scrap of paper fluttered out of his fingers and into the breeze. With a quiet snap of his fingers, it disappeared into ashes.
Roy knew this sense of stability and contentment was fragile and temporary. The moment he crossed the threshold of Riza’s apartment it would be completely and utterly destroyed.
When he entered that humble space she called home, Roy Mustang would find out he was going to be a father.
Roy clenched his hands deep in his pockets. Before he laid eyes on that hastily crafted note he may have been able to buy her tall tale. After all there was nothing out of the ordinary of someone going to the doctor, nor was there anything strange about someone coming down with a stomach bug. Every explanation had been so dull there was no logical reason to question them if it were not for his overly active imagination.
But that note…
Unless he had misread every signal and over blew every sign, there was no mistaking what conversation was awaiting him. Of course, there was always the possibility he had flown head long over the mark. Outside of her note there was nothing out of the ordinary about her actions or her request. It was entirely plausible Riza simply needed to speak to him on something entirely different, and he would have a good laugh at himself.
The closer and closer he came to Riza’s apartment the more fantastic the idea seemed. As he spotted it in the distance Roy’s heart began to race once more. It seemed to pound in his head and make it scream. His fingers began to twitch on the inside of his pocket, desperately searching for the cool chain of his pocket watch. Once found he wrapped it around his rough fingers and pulled the watch to his palm. He gave it a squeeze. It allowed him one last moment of strength. It kept his head on the ground as he slowly climbed the stairs and stepped on to her floor.
It was only a short walk down a clean, plain hallway before he reached her door.
Roy stood motionless against the beige carpet. His head immediately began to spin and whirl. He bowed his head to not only have a pray of remaining one of many, but to give him a precious moment to clear his head.
Just because all signs pointed in one direction didn’t mean that was the path before him.
There was no way to know for certain what would come out of her pretty mouth.
So there was no need for the cold terror beginning to overtake him or his out of control notions.
Roy let his silver pocket watch fall back into the soft fabric with a thud. He lifted his head and came face to face with an unpretentious, plain door.
He breathed in deeply through his nose, held his breath and knocked.
There was first a storm of frantic barks. Roy could hear the sound of claws scraping against the floor as the dog ran towards the door.
“Quiet Black Hayate!” Riza commanded. Ever the obedient dog Black Hayate gave one last whimper before settling back into an agitated silence.
“Come in it’s open!” Riza called once the dog had quieted.
It was now or never.
Roy opened the door and with a racing heart, spinning head and frigid soul he stepped inside.
“Colonel.” Riza nodded, her lips twisting into the slightest of smirks. It was nearly impossible for Roy to not return her smirk or overlook how his heart fluttered.
“Lieutenant.” He returned, silently relishing the comfort of their old titles.
He found Riza lying contently on the couch with a thin blanket over her lap. Black Hayate laid on the floor. The moment his soft brown eyes laid on Roy his ears perked and his tail began to swing back and forth. A glass of water sat on a nearby table. Her small radio filled the simple, unassuming room with gentle music. Riza had discarded her royal blue navy uniform for a pair of thin, pale pink pajama’s. Her thick blond hair fell gracefully down her shoulders and chest, framing her face. The Major General would have smirked at the sight. Everything was so painfully normal it soothed his spiraling soul. Then there was her hair… Out of all of his many accomplishments, convincing the stubborn Riza Hawkeye to grow out her beautiful tresses once more was one of his greatest.
His smirk was halted by a sight that made his blood run cold.
In one of Riza’s hands was a small book. That was not an unusual sight. Her free hand, however, was not stroking Black Hayate as it normally would.
It was draped over her stomach.
“I’m glad you came.” Riza smiled as she placed her book on the coffee table. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to the door to greet you or that I’m not standing now. I’m still a little”
“Riza I know what you want to tell me.”
Riza’s gentle smile faded as what colored remained bled from her pale skin. Her deep brown orbs were wide and brimming with trepidation. Those eyes remained attached to Roy as he made his way to her. He stood between the couch and the coffee table, looming over her rigid frame like a dark cloud.
But his eyes….
When Riza met those onyx slits she found herself staring into a mirror. They were just as wide and filled with the same foreboding.
Neither of them was aware of how much time had passed in this foreboding silence. Time seemed to have lost all meaning. There was nothing either was willing or able to do but just stare and wait;
Wait for time to resume once more…
Wait for their voices to work….
Wait for someone to have the courage to break the strangling silence.
It was ultimately Roy who discovered an ounce of his courage. He swallowed hard as his hands began to tremble. Even before anything was said his heart refused to stop racing and head refused to stop spinning.
Yet he found it- the will to speak what both feared to utter.
“You’re…. you’re….”
“Pregnant?” Riza chimed in, her voice quiet and thin. “Yes. Yes I am.”
“What is the status on the Huang gang?” Toph barked, sitting tall and erect behind her large wooden desk. The young, embarrassingly green cadet put a valiant effort into mimicking her stoic stance. No amount of effort could hide his racing blood and his pounding heart. Toph could sense it all. Had she been closer to him she could have even sensed the heat radiating from his cheeks. She could hear his clumsy fingers crinkling a piece of paper as his breath hitched.
It took every ounce of self-control for Toph not to smirk or let out a horrendous snort.
“Poor kid must be quaking in his boots.” She silently mused as she cleared her throat. Her fingers curled around themselves and rested under her chin. Her milky eyes bore him down, and she could only imagine his squirming figure growing tighter as the seconds ticked.
“I’m waiting Officer Chen.” She drawled. The young officer jumped, papers fumbling in his clammy fingers.
“Yes Chief my apologies Chief.” Chen paused, clearing his throat and straightening the papers in his hands.
“They’ve either been very quiet or have gone way underground. We’ve been keeping an eye on them, even having plain clothed officers scout their usual stomping grounds. There’s been a suspicious drop in activity… an alarming drop.”
Toph leaned back in her chair and nodded. She brought her pale, surprisingly dainty fingers to her lips, letting the information settle in her head.
The Huang Gang had, once upon a time, started as a group of misfit benders. They were down on their luck and had resorted to menacing the public to survive. Such activities including robbing, mugging… the usual illegal tom foolery. There was a disturbing darkness to their malice though. It was all tinged with the taste of hatred and vengeance. Even in their early disjointed early days their favorite targets had been fire benders and above all, non benders.
Toph felt her stomach drop. It seemed no matter how hard she, Aang, Zuko or anyone tried the rift between benders and non-benders refused to give way. Toph mercifully had bene able to contain the band of unhinged troublemakers, even as they grew and ever more coordinated.
How she had managed to underestimate them to such an alarming degree Toph would never know. Right under her nose the Huang’s ballooned into the largest, most systematic crime organization in Republic City. Their childish days of malice and menacing had dissented into terrorizing. The horror they inspired reach far and wide, stitching their way into the fabric of every citizens life. They lurked in the shadows, struck with no mercy and vanished with the wind back into the darkness.
Toph could only sigh and marvel at how much of a pain in her ass the Huang’s had become.
“Alarming is right.” Toph conceited, her pretty features screwing with aggravation. “It could mean nothing, but I don’t trust them for one second. They’re up to something and up to something big. Continue to send plain clothed officers under cover. We have to figure out what they’re doing and stop them before they can do it-understood?”
“Yes chief!” Chen barked with a click of his heels and a stiff salute.
“Good. Now one more thing-what time is it?” There was a pause as Chen’s black eyes glanced to the lonely clock hanging on the wall.
A strange piece of décor for a blind woman, he noted.
“It’s 3:30.”
“Oh man!” Toph cried, leaping out of her chair. “I need to go.” Officer Chen hurdled towards the wall, his face twisted with incredulity.
“If I may be permitted, why are you leaving so early?” He asked, gawking at her as she bustled towards the door. “It’s not like you.”
“I promised Avatar Aang and Katara I would come meet their new baby.” She said, whisking past him to reach the doorknob.
“Don’t forget to tell Sargent Suzuki my orders-or else.”
“Punishment?” Chen gulped.
“Big time.” She dead panned, swinging the door open. “Have a good day.” Toph cried in an eerily high, sing-song voice that sent a chill down the young officer’s spine. She left Chen frozen in the office, pale faced and gaping.
“I don’t get paid enough for this…”
Top marched her way through the familiar halls of headquarters. Though she was demure in stature, she cut a striking figure as she strode towards the exit. Her strong, petite frame was covered in a heavy suit. It shined and gleamed in spite of the garish indoor lighting. She kept her coal colored mane twisted in a large, moon shaped bun. Jagged bangs framed her elegant alabaster features. Those features were always hard and stubborn, much like the Earth she wielded with such deadly force.
Combined with her rank, it was no surprise she was given a wide berth. Every soul he passed would greet her with a bow of the head and a curt, “Chief Beifong.”
Toph would return the deference with a short nod, ignoring the pit in her stomach.
It never mattered to how many years she had the lofty position, or how many years she would continue to serve. It never mattered that she had chosen this life-or that she reveled in the simplicity of being known as chief. The extreme deference made Toph’s skin crawl. It was so grand secret that her lives greatest passion was ordering others around and commanding respect. In fact, if Toph had been completely honest with herself, nothing on Earth gave her such a thrill and joy.
And yet….
It was one thing to bark drills at a bunch of children her own age.
It was thing to be called “Sifu Toph”.
“Chief” was another monster entirely.
Had she known she was signing up to a life of distance and cold formality she would have slapped Aang and Zuko upside the head for even suggesting she be Chief Toph Beifong.
They were desperate and she…
No matter. Toph huffed as she reconciled with the notion of another conversation explaining the difference between respect and kow towing.
Two of her closest friends had brought new life into this world, and Toph would be damned if she didn’t get to meet him.
“Leaving already Chief Beifong?” A small voice chirped. Toph moved her head to the sound of the mousey voice. She flashed a grin at the timid girl who manned the receptionist desk.
“Yup. I’m heading over to Air Temple Island.”
“Ooohhh!” The woman squealed. Toph could hear the ear-splitting smile in her voice. She bit her bottom lips, stifling a snicker of her own.
“Are you going to meet the new baby?” She asked.
“I am.” Toph exclaimed, her face splitting into a beam. The secretary sighed a dreamy, doe eyed sigh. Toph could easily imagine her eyes fluttering and a far off look on her face as she imagined a baby of her own.
“I’m so happy for them. Babies are just the most wonderful thing, aren’t they?”
Toph stiffened, her hands clasping behind her back. She twisted and fiddled with them, attempting to ignore her racing heart and the hole in her chest. She prayed her blazing cheeks hadn’t turned a beat red.
“Ah…. Yeah sure. Kids are pretty great.” Toph nodded. She could feel those soft, childish eyes bearing down on her, waiting for her to say something, anything.
“She must be new… great.” Toph groaned, beginning to rock on her heels. The air grew heavy as the secretary continued to beam and Toph rocked on her heels, her milky eyes darting all around the open lobby.
“Do you ever”
“Well would you look at the time! I gotta go home and change before I miss the ferry. I’ll see you tomorrow… uuuhhh….. uhhhh….
“Sakura…”
“Oh right Sakura!! Sorry about that hun.” Toph spun on the palm of her feet and dashed out the door into the sunlight. She left another soul gawking, blinking and utterly baffled in her wake.
“What just happened?”
Toph’s air of authority refused to melt, even in the bright late May sun. Her shoulders remained erect, her head held high and her steps measured. It didn’t matter that the smooth sidewalk threatened to char her bare feet, or that the sun seemed hell bent on boiling her alive in her metal uniform. While she was on the streets the people would know who she was, and that she was always there.
Still… her esteemed position and respect she commanded didn’t mean Toph couldn’t enjoy herself.
Toph released her twirling fingers and hung her arms lose by her side. Her skilled hands naturally went to her hips. Her posture slowly withered as the sun warmed her face. She sucked a deep breath, letting the sweet air fill her lungs.
No matter how much Toph would have wanted to, she could never take in her beloved Republic City. She could never see the buildings creeping towards the sky. She could never witness the people bustling around her, creating new lives for themselves. She couldn’t even view the streets beneath her bare feet or the sapphire sky above her.
Yet the Chief of Police couldn’t help but grin. She may not have been able to see the fruits of her labor; but they were all around her as she moved through the streets she knew so well.
She could hear the voices swirling around her, many of them filled with laughter and airy join despite what hid in the shadows. She could hear horses and carriages clacking down the road, the beasts scent wafting in her nose. She heard the merchants bellowing and children screeching with delight. The sweet scent of flowers and late spring air trickled her nose.
Toph’s lips curled into a triumphant, cocky smirk. The signs of a well fought, well-earned peace was all around her. It didn’t matter she couldn’t see the results of her tireless efforts. She could smell it, she could hear it and she could feel it in the earth beneath her feet.
It was enough to make Toph puff out her chest. The Huang’s be damned. She had help forge a new era of love and peace with her own two hands and no one would take that from her. She let out a contented sigh as she rounded the corner to her apartment. Her heart began to flutter as she opened the door, her stomach flipping and twisting. She felt her cheeks flush as she weaved through the halls, her fingers tingled with anticipation.
“I hope he’s home.” She thought, curling her fingers around the smooth doorknob and twisting it open.
“Hello?” Toph cried, stepping into the doorway. There was beat of silence, making Toph’s chest tight. She held her breath, waiting for the sound she so desperately longed to hear.
“I’m in the bedroom!” A melodic tenor cried. Toph’s heart exploded with sheer bliss, her lips twisting in an ear to ear grin. She dashed towards the bedroom and let the door slam behind her. She could feel her cheeks flushing as her feet pounded on the hard floor.
Toph bounded into the door frame. She slammed her foot hard on the floor, allowing her to take in the outline of the sparse, open bedroom. Her lips curled when she saw a thin figure sitting crossed legged in the middle of a large bed. His shoulders were hunched over what she could only assume was a well-loved sketch book.
“Whatcha doing there Kanto?” She asked. Kanto’s thin lips curled at the corners, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.
“Drawing. What else would I be doing?”
“Oh I don’t know.” Toph mused, slinking towards the bed. She took her spot next to him, snaking her arm around his shoulder and pulling him in close. She ran her fingers through his silky, ebony waves. Kanto chuckled, placing his lips against her temple.
“Okay what’s going on? You’re home early and you’re being oddly affectionate.”
“What are you talking about? I’m always loving and affectionate!” Toph retorted, kissing his high cheek bone.
“Uh huh you keep telling yourself that. Now spill-what’s gotten into you?” Kanto questioned.
“There’s nothing to spill Mr. Fancy Pants. It’s a beautiful day, and I finally get to go meet Aang and Katara’s baby.”
Kanto groaned, twisting his frame out of Toph’s arms. His hazel eyes turned back to his sketch, his face twisting with disgust. Toph leaned back, her blood turning cold at his hateful moan.
“Good lord how many does that make-20?!” He exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
“Three. They have three!” Toph snapped. She rose her hand and smacked the back of his head. “Don’t be such a smart ass about it.”
“They’re trying to rebuild and entire culture you jack ass” The words staid firmly in her thoughts, though the burned hotter than any flame.
“Yeah well you don’t need to be so violent!” He moaned, holding his smarting skull. Besides three kids is three kids too many if you ask me.” Kanto claimed as he smoothed the back of his head. Toph stood, crossing her arms as she made her way to her closet. With a flick of her wrist and outstretched arms her metal armor flung off, clashing into place. She was left with her black pants and a plain snowy white tank top that clung to her figure.
Despite the thick, moist air Toph was chilled to the bone. The bliss she felt had vanished, being replaced with hallow numbness and a bitter taste in her mouth.
“I guess that’s one way you could look at it.” Toph muttered.
“It’s the only way to look at it!” Kanto cried, throwing his pencil to the bed. “They can and all… I guess but they’re loud and annoying and just plain disgusting. They ruin lives. I don’t understand how they can have so many.”
Toph froze, her finger hovering over her favorite emerald top. Her heart thudded and sputtered. A hard lump formed in her throat. She swallowed that lump along with the shock and awe tearing at her.
“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about kids Kanto.” Toph’s thin fingers encased the soft fabric, whipping it off the hanger and slinging it on to her shoulders.
“Well it’s not like I’ve tried to hide it. I just think they’re not worth it. Besides I’m not really the paternal type.” He paused, turning his attention back to Toph. He eyed her with growing suspicion as she wrapped the emerald shirt around her frame.
“And since when do you care? You’re not exactly the maternal type Toph.”
Toph felt her heart fall straight to her stomach. That horrid, cold numbness enveloped her once more.
“I could be…. If I tried”
“No I’m not.” Toph consented, sniching a belt at her waist. “But Aang and Katara are my best friends and I promised I would meet him.”
There was also another, silent reason why she was going. There was a soul who needed her to keep his pieces together and keep him moving forward.
“Yeah yeah I get it. Just don’t get any ideas when you’re over there.” Kanto quipped, his lips grinning and his eyes laughing. “The last thing we need is a screaming gremlin, right?”
Toph’s shoulders went rigid and the air escaped her lungs. She stood motionless; her eyes glued to the closet. Her fingers balled into fist as the wheels in her head began to turn.
Much as she hated to admit it Kanto was right.
He was not the parental type. For all of his kindness, grand gestures and dazzling words he was far from stable. He was as free as the wind, flitting and floating to his next grand adventure with only his sketch book in hand. On the one hand Toph never minded. She was thrilled by the unending collection of stories he brought back with him. She loved the rush of anticipation of his return, or how he would take her hand and trace her fingers against his drawings. This always led to him kissing each knuckle, then her arm, then her neck and lips…
Needless to say, his returns were joyful in more ways than one.
Yet Toph despised Kanto for always flying away. No matter how she shoved her need indepence down his or any mortals throat, no matter how much the idea of a lifelong commitment resembled a ball and chains she still loathed it. She loathed how cold her bed was. She longed for his arms around hers, to feel his heartbeat against her back and his breath against her neck. She despised how he left her with nothing but her thoughts and utter silence. Kanto would never buckle down in one place and find a job that required actual talent or effort. He would never be the kind of man to change diapers in the dead of night or cuddle a wailing child back to sleep. Sleep, he claimed, was vital to the creative process and heaven help anyone who would disrupt his creative process. He would never want to have a child on his lap or a story in his hands.
More to the point, Kanto would never be the kind of man Aang or Zuko were. For all their flaws-and there were many-they had proven to be beautiful and loving fathers.
Though it was hard to admit, Kanto was also right in his assessment of her character. Toph was not the kind of woman to cuddle or sing lullabies. She was never a loving or nurturing person like Katara. Toph was loud, Toph was crude and she was all hard earth and rocky edges. She never had that ache or longing to have a tiny soul of her own to care for. The idea strangled her like a noose her neck. She could never give up her hard-fought independence and freedom-not until she drew her very last gasp of air. Then there was the unavoidable fact her job could steal her life at any moment.
What kind of life would that be for a child-a father was never around and never cared, and a mother who could be taken away at any time, and with a soul too hard to truly love?
No. Children had never been and would never be in the picture for her. Toph would be content with being the fun-loving Aunt who spoiled the children, wreaked havoc, filled their blood with all their sugar their hearts desired and vanish.
And yet… with each passing child her friends had a hole grew in her heart and only got bigger and bigger. It was dark, empty and dead. The only way that vast, frozen hole could begin to heal was if she was holding her friends’ children or heard them laugh. Only then would she feel a spark deep within her soul, something that made her want to never let go of the warmth in her arms. She wanted to be surrounded by that ecstatic, heartwarming laughter. She craved those little hands pawing at her face or their warm weight against her chest.
Toph was only 31, and Kanto was 32. There was still a chance….
Toph shook those thoughts out of her head and buried them deep in the depths of her soul. She mindlessly pulled down the hem of her shirt before turning to face Kanto. Her lips were parted in a tight, waxy smile.
“You got that right fancy pants!” Toph chirped. Kanto beamed back at her, oblivious to the war raging in her head. Toph strode forward slowly, her hips swishing in the sunlight. She took his thin, soft face in her cores. They stared deep into each other’s eyes; one pair a sunny hazel and one pair a clouded emerald. He snaked his arms around her waist and tugged her close to his chest.
“You’re all I ever need Toph.” Kanto breathed, sliding his hands up and down the dip of her waist and her hips. Despite her screaming thoughts and the ever-growing hole in her heart, Toph dug her nails into her hair and pressed his lips against hers. She refused to move until her lungs were weeping for air, praying that he would be enough to fill that ugly hole.
It only felt colder and painfully bitter as Toph went back into the sunlight.
I recently realised the Anastasia musical takes place a year before the collapse of Wall Street and the Great Depression. Dmitry and Anya escaped poverty only to become even more poor a year later.
I mean Baatar jr. looks like his father who happens to look a lot like Sokka.... but it's not uncommon for people to marry someone who look like a parental figure or parent. My mom did it :p
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