***I still think about this scene an unhealthy amount.***
“Riza.”
His voice is hoarse, floating to her in the darkness as though from a long distance. She turns on her side towards him.
“I can’t—” he whispers. His eyes are closed tight, and he grips the bedcovers, his entire body rigid.
She places her hand on his chest, and after a moment, he opens his eyes with a shuddering breath that she feels rattle inside him, up through her arm and down through her soul.
As it always has been, his pain is her pain.
“Tell me,” she says quietly.
“You gave me my gloves. But I can’t use it, Riza. I promised you. Never again on a living being. I vowed it to you.”
“I know.” She sucks in a deep breath. “You once released me from a vow I made you. These are…exigent circumstances. But I have conditions.”
He nods, and she continues.
“You will do whatever you have to do to bring our daughter home. Burn the fucking world to the ground if that’s what it takes. Let the monster out of the cage.”
She pauses, and her eyes burn with tears for the first time since she stood in her bedroom and strapped on her holster.
“But then you come back to me, Roy Mustang.” Her voice catches on a sob, and she clutches at him, knowing her nails are digging into his chest but unable to stop herself. "Because I do not have the strength to hold a gun to your head again to keep you on the right path. Not now.”
He turns to his side and reaches for her, and she lets him pull her into his arms, his grip punishingly tight.
“What if I can’t stop?" he whispers. His fingers dig painfully into her hips. “If they kill her—"
“Don't!" Riza tries to pull away from him, the mental image of her perfect girl's battered body laying in the sand finally clawing its way to the surface of her mind, and she can’t bear it, can’t think it, she can’t, can’t, can’t….
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. She's fine. She'll be fine."
He slides his mouth up to kiss her forehead, and they lay pressed together for a long time, both shaking and shuddering.
If Danielle is killed, pulling him back on the right path won't matter, because Riza will be the one to lead the way into hell and take their daughter's murderers there.
It's the first time she's come close to tasting the vengeance that once nearly destroyed her husband, and she can feel how addicting it could become—sharp and sour on her tongue, painful like pressing on a wound.
“Riza,” he says, and she bunches her fist in his shirt to show she’s listening. “If the only way to finish this is to trade our blood for hers, to give them their vengeance...”
She lifts herself up on one arm to look into his eyes. His face is no longer twisted in pain, but dark and focused. Determined. She matches him.
“Then I will follow you into hell.”
"Meet Me On the Battlefield"
