It's Not Checkmate Yet | FMA

Riza's POV

"Because the world isn't as bad as you think." ~Celty Sturluson (Durarara!!)

***

Crying was a completely different matter to me at this point. I wasn't sure who, but somebody was watching me. Narrowing my eyes to get a better perspective, I examine the alleyway. Doesn't seem to have anything but crates and barrels, which puzzled me. Why would a bunch of wood be making me so.... irked?

Suddenly, the barrels and crates crash to the ground to reveal a dark-skinned man with sunglasses shading his eyes, and a thick white scar on his forehead, shaped like an X. I let a scream of surprise and terror escape my lips. Involuntary, of course.

"Another dog, then," he growls, cracking the knuckles of his right hand with a simple gesture. He was a strong man. I could definitely see that. "I knew I'd find one down here."

"What do you want from me?" I yell, my voice quivering. "Why are you here?"

"I want to eliminate scum like you from the world," he glares. "You people have done enough damage to Ishbal."

I feel that familiar, dull twinge of reluctant recognition at the mention of Ishbal. Just thinking about it made me cringe. Suddenly, a burst of energy and anger blooms in my chest.

"Who do you think you are?" I glare.

"I think that I am a loyal servant of God," the man says, sounding really smug for his position. He lunges towards me, grabbing me by my neck, and squeezing my scalp with his right hand.

"I will give you a moment of prayer," he says insistantly. 

Crap. What am I supposed to do now? His hand seems to be suffocating me, though it was covering my forehead, not my mouth or nose.

"Okay, I think that you've had enough time," he growls. His grip tightens when, suddenly, his hand is completely off my head.

Jean's jacket long forgotten at the end of the walkway, I look around for my rescuer and gasp when I see him. It was a man, with black hair and eyes. He looked angry, and was ready to snap his gloved fingers. 

Roy.

With wobbling knees, I stand up and run over to the jacket, where I find a small pistol. Quickly, I load it up and train it on the scarred man, glaring at both him and Roy.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" I yell at Roy. He raises his eyes in surprise.

"Saving your butt, of course!" he yells back. I groan angrily, torn whether or not to be relieved and happy, or angry and frustrated.

The man frowns an ugly frown as he stares at us. Roy grins and I roll my eyes. He was getting cocky again.

"Now, buddy, I think that you've had enough of your fun," Roy smirks. "Don't you think, Riza?"

I don't reply. Instead, I give him a look that says,

Just get the job done, Colonel!

Roy seems to get the message and snaps his fingers, which causes the man to simply move out of the way. He was way too relaxed.

"Two dogs will make my job much easier," he says monotonously. "Now, I think that it's time to end this."

Suddenly, I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the trigger, feeling each gunshot as I went. I open my eyes and see...

That I haven't made a scratch.

"Ugh!" I mutter to myself, starting to get angry. I try to reload, but notice that the gun was empty. Empty. 

The man takes this to his advantage and nears me, making those strange hand gestures that he was doing before. Now I was starting to get scared. I feel my chest compress and my forehead bead in sweat, my heart beating rapidly.

The man puts his hand on my forehead again and starts to sqeeze me.

"COLONEL!" I scream, adrenaline coursing through my veins. "COLONEL, PLEASE! HELP ME!!"

The man looses his focus and accidentally moves his hand to my arm. Suddenly, blinding pain takes over and I look down to see that he completely blew away a layer of my skin.

This was alchemy. I am almost sure of it. Evil, sick, horrible alchemy. But I could already recognize the art.

I let out a scream that tears through my throat. Because the wound wasn't anywhere near deep, my nerves were reacting to twice as much pain. I think I can hear Roy calling my name, over and over, but my ears feel like they've been submerged.

I can, however, hear him cuss my attacker out. He was snapping his fingers like crazy, causing bright flames to shoot all over the place. I sit here, helplessly, tears welling up in my eyes.

I couldn't help it. Not only was I injured, blood streaming down my arm, but I was scared as well. Helplessly, horribly scared. This feeling of complete uselessness seems as if it will never go away.

I look up, and, all too soon, the man was gone. Gone. I look up to see Roy, panting, putting away his gloves. I look away, the tears dripping from my eyes and staining the ground.

Suddenly, ironically, the drizzles of rain gently hit my back. I let out a small sob, hugging my shoulders because of the exposure of skin.

Roy makes his way over to me, and I fall into his warm, strong hands. Burying my face into his chest, I feel him take off his jacket and set it on me.

I do not acknowledge this in any way. Instead, I cry. Cried like I haven't done in a long, long while. It feels nice to let out my emotions.

"Riza," I hear Roy mumble. I burry my face closer, inhaling that smoked-wood scent of him. It was the best smell in the world.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so, so, so sorry..."

"I'm the sorry one," Roy mutters, running his calloused fingers through my hair. I close my eyes, my arm beginning to sting.

"Riza, does it hurt bad?" he asks, pulling me away so that he could see my face.

"I-I'll be fine," I stumble, more tears falling down my cheeks. "I....I...."

"You need to be bandaged up," Roy says, his eyes serious. "You could get an infection, you know."