Because I wrote it, but don't know WTF to do with it...
Coming After You
Anime:Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Royai
Rating: R (but not for smex *gasp*)
785 words
Warnings: Some rare Riza!Angst, slight gore and a big episode 51 spoiler.
Preview: Like a distant bell ringing in her ears, she heard herself screaming for him...
Running, running… It was all she could do to keep from losing her mind. Her own footfalls rang through the courtyard, hollow and solitary and desperate. Where was he? She scanned the lawns, nothing, no one, empty. She had to go faster, had to find him, had to know it had all gone as planned, had to know if he was still... No, she wouldn’t let her mind follow that path, she couldn’t.
Then she saw it, looming at the top of the landing, that monstrosity. It turned slowly to look down at her, cold and calculating in his stare. Why had it not continued on inside the house to find him? Her heart stopped, the answer to her question so suddenly and horrifyingly clear. She knew that this machine would only stop for one reason: success. Mind screaming as a shiver of terrible fear slithered down her spine, her arm swung up, targeting the monster and firing.
Firing and firing. Firing until she had not another round to fire. She stood, breath coming in shaky, ragged gasps as it crumpled and fell to the pavement in a scrape of metal and mutilated flesh. Without another moment of consideration to the man who had once been Archer, she hobbled up the remaining path, hoping against all odds that her instincts had, this one time, been grossly off-target. That the plan had been successful, that she hadn’t been too late.
Instead she found before her, two bodies, bloodied and prostrate over the marble, illuminated by the ominous glow of a fire that was most certainly his. The first body, she ascertained, was the small and broken body of an unknown child. But the second figure, lying so frighteningly still in his dark suit, was the one person she’d sworn to protect. No! No, it couldn’t be. Moving faster than she thought her exhausted limbs could carry her, she was at his side. How had she allowed this to happen?! He was so quiet, so lifeless. And the blood, pooled and shining in the firelight around him… Oh, there was so much of it. Too much.
Somewhere, like a distant bell ringing in her ears, she heard herself screaming for him, “Colonel! Colonel! Roy Mustang!” But, there was no answer; she knew there wouldn’t be. She cried, open-mouthed, gasping and sobbing into the smoky flannel of his jacket. Too late, she had been too damned late! The grief twisted within her chest, livid and without outlet. “No!” she screamed, suddenly and inexplicably angry. She was angry with Archer for shooting him, angry with the Fuhrer for forcing them to do this, angry with him for just lying there and bleeding, and most of all, she was angry that she’d failed to be where she should have been, at his side, following him.
With a quick furious tug, she turned him on his back, eyes going wide at the sight. Dark hair clung to his face, matted to the blackened skin in thick red clots. It was so heartbreaking; she almost couldn’t bear it. That beautiful face, once capable of a million subtle expressions, all of which now seemed so very precious to her, was ruined... so completely ruined. She opened her mouth, shaking to hold back her sobs, and said in as steady a voice as she could muster, “Wake up, Roy.” Nothing, no response, no movement from him at all. Choking, she repeated herself, “Colonel Mustang, wake up! That’s an order… Wake up now, goddamn you!!” But, still, he lay there, motionless in his own blood. Desperate, she fell to his chest, sobbing hopelessly. “Wake up, please…” she moaned against him, “please, don’t leave me behind…”
She shifted miserably against him, her remaining holstered gun digging into her side. Absently reaching back to pull it loose, she gazed down at the gun as it rested heavily in her hand. Such a perfect weapon, simple and clean and easy. Like her duty had been: follow and protect… Slowly, thoughtfully, her eyes cleared and her face relaxed. Of course. It was so simple, what it was she would do. Having failed at the latter half of her obligation, she would do whatever she had to, to fulfill the first.
Sliding up along his body, she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “You know there’s nowhere that you can go where I won’t follow, Roy Mustang. So, if you don’t wake up…and prove that you’re still here next me, I’ll have no choice but to come after you.” Pulling her gun up to her temple, eyes sliding closed as she did so, she muttered against his still-warm skin, “Do you hear me Roy? I’m coming after you…”
A/N: Okay, this story formed like a tumor right in the middle of the full-length 'Collide' fic I'm working on (which, incidentally has become a breeding ground for random Royai plot bunnies like this). I don't know that I particularly love it, but since it seemed fic-ish, I figured what the hell, why not post it?! And yes, that is the end of this story... if you're reading it, then you've seen how it turns out in the end. Apples and Eyepatches. ^_~
Anime:Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Royai
Rating: R (but not for smex *gasp*)
785 words
Warnings: Some rare Riza!Angst, slight gore and a big episode 51 spoiler.
Preview: Like a distant bell ringing in her ears, she heard herself screaming for him...
Running, running… It was all she could do to keep from losing her mind. Her own footfalls rang through the courtyard, hollow and solitary and desperate. Where was he? She scanned the lawns, nothing, no one, empty. She had to go faster, had to find him, had to know it had all gone as planned, had to know if he was still... No, she wouldn’t let her mind follow that path, she couldn’t.
Then she saw it, looming at the top of the landing, that monstrosity. It turned slowly to look down at her, cold and calculating in his stare. Why had it not continued on inside the house to find him? Her heart stopped, the answer to her question so suddenly and horrifyingly clear. She knew that this machine would only stop for one reason: success. Mind screaming as a shiver of terrible fear slithered down her spine, her arm swung up, targeting the monster and firing.
Firing and firing. Firing until she had not another round to fire. She stood, breath coming in shaky, ragged gasps as it crumpled and fell to the pavement in a scrape of metal and mutilated flesh. Without another moment of consideration to the man who had once been Archer, she hobbled up the remaining path, hoping against all odds that her instincts had, this one time, been grossly off-target. That the plan had been successful, that she hadn’t been too late.
Instead she found before her, two bodies, bloodied and prostrate over the marble, illuminated by the ominous glow of a fire that was most certainly his. The first body, she ascertained, was the small and broken body of an unknown child. But the second figure, lying so frighteningly still in his dark suit, was the one person she’d sworn to protect. No! No, it couldn’t be. Moving faster than she thought her exhausted limbs could carry her, she was at his side. How had she allowed this to happen?! He was so quiet, so lifeless. And the blood, pooled and shining in the firelight around him… Oh, there was so much of it. Too much.
Somewhere, like a distant bell ringing in her ears, she heard herself screaming for him, “Colonel! Colonel! Roy Mustang!” But, there was no answer; she knew there wouldn’t be. She cried, open-mouthed, gasping and sobbing into the smoky flannel of his jacket. Too late, she had been too damned late! The grief twisted within her chest, livid and without outlet. “No!” she screamed, suddenly and inexplicably angry. She was angry with Archer for shooting him, angry with the Fuhrer for forcing them to do this, angry with him for just lying there and bleeding, and most of all, she was angry that she’d failed to be where she should have been, at his side, following him.
With a quick furious tug, she turned him on his back, eyes going wide at the sight. Dark hair clung to his face, matted to the blackened skin in thick red clots. It was so heartbreaking; she almost couldn’t bear it. That beautiful face, once capable of a million subtle expressions, all of which now seemed so very precious to her, was ruined... so completely ruined. She opened her mouth, shaking to hold back her sobs, and said in as steady a voice as she could muster, “Wake up, Roy.” Nothing, no response, no movement from him at all. Choking, she repeated herself, “Colonel Mustang, wake up! That’s an order… Wake up now, goddamn you!!” But, still, he lay there, motionless in his own blood. Desperate, she fell to his chest, sobbing hopelessly. “Wake up, please…” she moaned against him, “please, don’t leave me behind…”
She shifted miserably against him, her remaining holstered gun digging into her side. Absently reaching back to pull it loose, she gazed down at the gun as it rested heavily in her hand. Such a perfect weapon, simple and clean and easy. Like her duty had been: follow and protect… Slowly, thoughtfully, her eyes cleared and her face relaxed. Of course. It was so simple, what it was she would do. Having failed at the latter half of her obligation, she would do whatever she had to, to fulfill the first.
Sliding up along his body, she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “You know there’s nowhere that you can go where I won’t follow, Roy Mustang. So, if you don’t wake up…and prove that you’re still here next me, I’ll have no choice but to come after you.” Pulling her gun up to her temple, eyes sliding closed as she did so, she muttered against his still-warm skin, “Do you hear me Roy? I’m coming after you…”
A/N: Okay, this story formed like a tumor right in the middle of the full-length 'Collide' fic I'm working on (which, incidentally has become a breeding ground for random Royai plot bunnies like this). I don't know that I particularly love it, but since it seemed fic-ish, I figured what the hell, why not post it?! And yes, that is the end of this story... if you're reading it, then you've seen how it turns out in the end. Apples and Eyepatches. ^_~