As I sat miserably in my wheelchair and slinged arm, the door to my room opened and Edward came in. "Eve!" He yelled, seeing the state I was in, running up to me. "Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not," I sighed. "I can't move."
"Why not?"
"My collarbone is cracked and I just had my stitches replaced. They already know that I ran from the hospital once and now in my current position, I'm not allowed to leave Command Center. If I'm seen stepping one foot outside of Central Command while not being in my wheelchair they'll keep me bedridden. This sucks Ed! I can't do anything, and therefore you can't do anything because I'm supposed to keep you out of places where I can't keep you safe--"
"Hold up-enough about me. What about you?"
"Huh? What about me?"
"Have you noticed anything...off since you've arrived here? Anyone following you? Erie feelings at all?"
"Not that I recall. What makes you ask that?"
"No reason-really!" Edward got nervous and shook his hands in front of me.
I eyed him suspiciously before laughing. "Whatever you say," I shrugged still laughing, although cringing as I remembered my injury. I pulled Edward's coat and he leaned down as I pecked him on the cheek.
Edward blushed as he cleared his throat. "We need to go somewhere anyways," he grasped my wheelchair and began to wheel me.
"Hey!" I shouted. "Where are you taking me?"
"Someone who I know that has the answer to my question," Edward vaguely replied.
*~*~*~*~*~
I chuckled as we stood outside of Lieutenant Hawkeye's apartment, Black Hayate tackling Edward while barking when he came out of his doggy door. The door opened to reveal Lieutenant Hawkeye in a plain button-up top while wearing a pink halter jacket over her shoulders, dark pants, and house slippers, looking at her dog with disapproval. "Bad Hayate," she scolded, causing her dog to whimper.
I grabbed the back of Edward's coat and helped him up from my position in the wheelchair. Lieutenant Hawkeye apologized, "I'm sorry about that."
"It's no problem," Edward assured. "It happens to me a lot. I heard you've been assigned to the Führer."
"What?!" I yelled.
"Yeah," Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded. "And it's just me-the rest of the Colonel's team are separated to the furthest points of the military's power."
Hawkeye let us in to her apartment and treated us to coffee, which I gratefully drank. I had almost forgotten the little thing she gave me a few days ago. "Oh, yeah, here's your gun by the way," I handed her back the handgun, which was covered in grime and blood.
She examined it, "Looks like you had a pretty hard time of it." She got up from the table and rummaged through her cabinets to look for cleaning supplies for her gun.
"It may not look like it, but I didn't shoot anyone," I said.
"I'm glad Eve had the gun because I don't think I could've shot anyone with it if I had it," Edward admitted, making Lieutenant Hawkeye and I to pause at what we were doing to see what he had to say. "I'm hopeless," Edward continued, gazing at his reflection in the coffee liquid. "I got no resolve, so I'm always putting everyone else out."
"Did something happen?" Lieutenant Hawkeye asked.
"It turns out Scar is the one who killed Winry's parents," Edward spat it out, Lieutenant Hawkeye tensing up upon hearing this. "At that moment, she was going to shoot him, but I knew it was wrong. Suddenly, the gun looked like something scary. Before I knew it...Eve was in front of Winry and between Scar because I was too shocked and scared to do anything. I think she hated Scar enough to want to kill him."
"She cried so much like she had never shed a single tear in her life," I added.
"I'm so hopeless," Edward sighed. "I didn't understand her one bit. It was Eve who knew what was going on and her who pulled Winry out of that trench."
"It's because you came back alive that you're worried about this," Lieutenant Hawkeye concluded. "And the fact that you're envious that Evelyn knew Winry better than you even though you both knew each other all your life. But then, you have to go on living. For the sake of those important to you as well. Protect each other. After all, you and Evelyn are in a relationship, correct?"
The fact that Lieutenant Hawkeye found out about our secret was enough to make us choke and spit out our coffee. "What are you talking about? We're just childhood friends!" Edward sputtered.
"We're like family!" I cried, digging us more into our own graves.
Lieutenant Hawkeye smiled a little bit, "Nice try. The Colonel and I caught you kissing each other in the hospital."
I groaned as I slid down in my wheelchair. "Promise you and uncle won't tell anyone, okay?" I begged. "But I know he's going to use it as blackmail on me one day..."
"Never even thought about it," Lieutenant Hawkeye assured. "The Colonel, on the other hand, is a different story." After she said that, her face turned grim again. "I apologize. That only added to your burdens."
Silence filled us once more as I continued to drink my coffee. "Lieutenant," Edward asked. "Have you ever thought of it as a heavy burden?"
"I don't have the right to call it light or heavy anymore," Lieutenant Hawkeye answered. "I've taken the lives to too many people in the past. Also...I'm the one who chose to go down this path."
"Ishval?" Edward gulped. "Is it okay if I ask you about Ishval?"
"Ishval is a harsh land, full of rocks and sand," Hawkeye replied. "The land being what it is, it's no surprise that such a strong people and a religion with such strict tenets would be born here. However, a number of people were discontented over their annexation by Amestris. As a result...with that one bullet fired, their discontent became anger and spread all of Ishval. In time, the uprising became a civil war and it went on for seven long years. And then, a one-page document determined everything. Führer's Orders #3066. The piece of paper that declared the start of the Ishvalan War of Extermination. Just that one sheet of paper. It was hell. The air was filled with the smells of decay and gunpowder, and the sand was heavily soaked with the blood that had been shed. Ordinary soldiers would fire rounds indiscriminately, and one of them might happen to take the life of someone. But for snipers, it was different. When we pulled the trigger, someone was sure to die. The only ones for whom the link between the cause and effect was so evident were the snipers...and State Alchemists..."
*~*~*~*~*~
"My name is the Iron Blood Alchemist, Basque Grand!" A voice in the distance declared. "Iron and blood. In other words, weapon and soldier! If I do not take the lead in battle, who else will?" Blue sparks filled a street in Ishval and cannons were fired. Young-not yet Colonel-Mustang tried to ignore the screams of people as he snapped his fingers and set a building with its solders and residents inside on fire. Mustang saw a huge wall come up, courtesy of Armstrong and gunshots and screams of people filled in shortly afterward. From the distance, Mustang could hear a poor Ishvalan child crying over their loss in the war.
*~*~*~*~*~
"Why, those Ishvalan punks!" Young Mustang watched as a alchemist with half of his leg missing while being carried on a stretcher cursed.
A doctor with black hair followed them, most likely to check up on his condition. "Please, sir, calm down..." they begged.
"How dare they? Damn them!" The alchemist continued, ignoring the doctor's pleas.
The doctor lost it. "Be grateful that you'll get to see your family again!" They scolded.
Major Mustang couldn't take it anyone and left the scene to find a place that wasn't so populated with soldiers on their break time from battle, catching the attention of his friend Hughes in the process. "Roy! Roy Mustang!" Hughes called, in which caused Major Mustang to turn around to see his beloved friend.
The two of them walked until they had reached a water trough which Mustang used to wash his face caked with dust and dirt. "You're deployed out here too?" Hughes said. "Long time, no see then. But then, you've got a different look about you."
Mustang looked up and scanned his friend, "I could say the same for you. You've got the eyes of a killer."
"Yeah," Hughes smiled weakly. The sun stopped shining on his glasses, which revealed a pair of blank, dilated pupils with heavy bags underneath them.
The two of them headed out to a slightly more secluded spot so they could catch up. "Back at the military academy, we all talked about the future of the country, huh?" Hughes said.
"Yeah," Mustang nodded. "And what a beautiful future it was."
"Captain!" They turned around to see a puffing soldier approached them. "You have a letter."
"Oh, thanks," Hughes replied as the soldier left. Hughes opened the letter, read it, and a great big grin went across his face as he laughed, causing other soldiers to look at him.
"What?" Mustang asked, startled. "What's wrong?"
"It's my beautiful future!" Hughes smiled while swooning over the letter. "Her name is Gracia. She's waiting in Central for me to come home." Hughes suddenly despaired over a though, "All by herself, all this time..." Hughes began to grit and grind his teeth together. "What if another man puts the moves on her?" Then, Hughes cradled the letter, "Nah, Gracia wouldn't disregard a fine man like me to have an affair with someone else. No, but then again..."
"Hughes, a little word of warning," Mustang sighed with annoyance at his friend's sudden change in personality. "This often happens in movies and novels...a guy on the battlefield who brings up stories of his woman immediately dies." Mustang made a finger gun and pointed it at Hughes, flicking it to represent a gun being shot to emphasize his point.
"Look, you..." Hughes' veined pulsed from his head before glancing at the letter again and his dead eyes softened, showing emotion for the first time. "Now I can live until tomorrow," he sighed. "This letter is enough to let me dream about tomorrow. Here on this battlefield where we don't know when things will end..."
"It's true, I see no way out of this war," Mustang admitted. "No matter how much military force the country throws this way, the desert sucks it up like water. After trying so hard to gain control, who's left? All in all, it's just the sand, right?"
"Yeah," Hughes agreed. "This is more than comprehensive for bringing an uprising under control."
Footsteps approached behind them and they turned to see a soldier wearing a dusty white cloak they were assigned to to blend in with the environment and a sniper slung over their back slowly approach them. The hooded soldier took off their head, revealing a female with dead brown eyes and cropped blonde hair. "Long time no see, Major Mustang," Hawkeye monotonously greeted them. "Do you remember me?"
Seeing Hawkeye, the daughter of who he was apprenticed under, Mustang glanced down at her sadly. How could this be? He thought. She has developed the eyes of a killer.
*~*~*~*~*~
The three of them sat on crates as they ate the rationed cans of food they were given. A doctor, the same black-haired doctor from earlier, walked by and they tripped, arms waving as they stumbled and grabbed hold of Mustang's shoulder for balance. "I'm sorry," the doctor apologized. "I wasn't looking and--"
When Mustang turned around to say that it was no problem, he saw his own eyes on the doctor. Or, at least what his eyes should look like if the war never happened. The doctor stared into Mustang's eyes as well, recognizing them through all the death coated on top of it. "...Sara?" He whispered.
"...Roy?" She whispered back. "Little brother, is that you?"
Mustang stood slowly up and the pair stared at each other for a little bit and then quickly embraced each other, much to the surprise of Hughes and Hawkeye as well as the doctor's husband, who had walked in on them hugging. "Sara, you know them?" He asked as Sara and Mustang pulled back.
"Yes, Elliot..." Sara spoke. "This is my little brother Roy Mustang, whom I haven't seen in...two decades?"
"Yeah," Mustang nodded.
"Why two decades?" Elliot asked.
"Our parents died when we were young," Sara explained. "A great-aunt of ours or something took Roy in, but there wasn't any room for me. So, I was given to a friend of hers who lived far away and we wrote letters to each other as a means of communication. But, as we both moved over the years, we stopped giving each other the new address and so we stopped writing to each other."
"I see," Elliot nodded as he handed Sara the rations they were given.
"Who is he?" Mustang asked.
"My husband," Sara introduced. "Elliot, this my younger brother Roy. Roy, this is my husband Elliot."
"Nice to meet you," Elliot suck his hand out, ready for a handshake which Mustang provided hesitantly, not wanting either Elliot or Sara to see the marks on his hand from the alchemy. "This is my friend from the military academy, Maes Hughes and a friend of mine Riza Hawkeye."
"Nice to meet you both," Hughes smiled as Hawkeye gave a small smile and nodded.
"You and Elliot are doctors?" Roy asked.
"Ah, yes," Sara stretched. "Both we and a few other friends of ours were pulled into this war sadly." She looked at her little brother, taking in the sight, still not believing that she is seeing her MIA brother of two decades. "You've grown up so much, Roy," she smiled sadly.
"Please, it's nothing--" Roy smiled, thinking that Sara was joking.
"I really can see it in your eyes," Sara interrupted, looking grim. "The war made you adult, didn't it? All of you. I can see it. War really makes us all grow up, am I right?"
Mustang flinched at his older sister observations that as she smiled sadly at all three of them. The five of them stood in silence until Hawkeye spoke up. "Please tell me something, Major," Hawkeye asked. "Why are soldiers killing citizens, when they should be protecting them? Why is alchemy meant to bring about good fortune, being used to kill people?"
"Because that is the job of a State Alchemist," a voice filled them in. The five turned to see a man with long, greasy black hair tied back into a ponytail with a water cup in his hands smirk at them. It was Solf. J Kimblee, the Crimson Alchemist, and one of the many who was sadistic enough to enjoy the war and the destruction he brought with his alchemy that the death toll didn't affect his eyes at all. "Why are soldiers killing citizens when they should be protecting them?" He smirked. "Because that is the duty placed upon soldiers. Am I wrong?"
"Are you saying we should accept this devastation as part of the job?" Mustang demanded.
"Well, now, let's say..." Kimblee pondered. "Miss, you seem reluctant to be here. That's the face you're making. Can you tell me for certain that when you defeat an enemy, there isn't the slightest moment where you say 'I got him! Great!', take pride in your own skills, and feel a sense of accomplishment? Miss Sniper?"
Hawkeye began to pale and tremble at Kimblee's words. Before Mustang could react, Sara was in front of Kimblee and she slapped them across the face. "Would you please can it?" She said, annoyed at him as Kimblee held his cheek where Sara had slapped him. "I deal with enough of you people in the tents so I would like it to have an hour to myself where I don't hear you people spewing that."
"For my part, I can't understand you people," Kimblee sneered. "The battlefield is, after all, a place where you kill the enemy." Kimblee looked past Sara and at the trio of soldiers. "Did you put on your uniforms without being ready for that?" He glared, standing up. "Don't avert your eyes from death. Look forward. Look directly at the people you are killing. And then don't forget them. The enemy isn't going to forget you, either."
The bell chimed, signaling that break time was over. "Whoops, times up," Kimblee smirked as he turned away from the group, buttoning his collar of his uniform up. "I have to get to work."
"I have to get going as well," Hughes stood up and before he walked away, Mustang spoke to him.
"Hughes, wait!" He called. "Why are you fighting in this war?"
"The reason?" Hughes said. "I don't want to die. It's that simple."
As Hughes walked away, Mustang heard a soft giggle ans turned to see Sara, fist over her mouth, bent over, as if she was trying to contain her laughter. "What's so funny?" Mustang demanded, peeved from before.
"I apologize," Sara stopped laughing, looking serious again. "I just realized...the cruel irony behind this. That one of the happiest days of my life is spent during the worst days of my life."
"'One of the happiest days'?" Mustang asked. "What do you mean by that? What could possibly top meeting your long lost--"
"Why, the birth of my daughters, of course," Sara explained.
"...oh," Roy paused.
"Yes, oh," Sara smirked as she fished for something in her doctor coat pocket. She pulled out a folded photo and unfolded it, presenting it to Mustang. There were two girls-one with brown hair and in a white dress dancing around with flowers up in the air, arms thrown up, eyes closed, and laughing. The other was a girl with short black hair and in a much more formal outfit than the brown-haired girl and sat in a chair while she made a flower crown. "The brown-haired one is Evelyn, my oldest and the black-haired one is Grace," Sara explained.
"They look just like you and Elliot..." Mustang admired.
"Sara!" Elliot called.
"Coming!" Sara turned her head and yelled before turning her head back to Mustang and folding the photo, placing it back in her doctor's coat pocket. "It was nice seeing you again, brother," she smiled as they hugged each other tightly one last time. "Hope we can see each other again when times aren't so grim," she nodded her head in goodbye as she left to go with her husband.
*~*~*~*~*~
As Mustang burned another building down, he wondered What is the reason behind this entire war?
All of the sudden, there was a huge explosion and screaming. As Mustang turned around, he recognized the location of a medical tent, where he saw Sara and Eliot stationed at that morning. "Oh, no!" He cried, running to the tent.
He coughed through the thick smoke as he searched for his older sister, waving his arm to clear the smoke. Then, he saw someone drag another person though the smoke. He recognized the figure as Sara and ran up to her. "Sara-" he started but froze at the sight he was seeing.
Sara, with one of her legs blown off that it was basically a bloody stump of whatever remained of her thighs, was dragging a clearly dead Elliot, since he had half of his body blown off and all that remained of him was his top half. Sara was sobbing and coughing as she attempted to drag herself and her dead husband through the smoke. "ELLIOT!!! ELLIOT!!! COME ON!!!" She screamed.
Mustang approached Sara and she heard, whipping her head around and clinging onto Mustang's shoulder. "Roy!" She sobbed. "I need you to do me a favor!"
Trembling, she pulled out the folded photo she had shown him a few days ago and placed it in the palm of his hands. "Take care of my baby girls, okay?" She begged. "Promise me that you will raise them right. Promise me that when you breathe your last dying breath, they are somewhere safe, and they are healthy and happy?"
"Yes—"Mustang promised.
"PROMISE ME!!!"
"YES I DO!!!" Mustang yelled.
Just as he saw Sara's sobbing face grow peaceful a bullet went through her head as she gurgled, slumping and collapsing on Elliot's half-of-a-body. "SARA!!!" Mustang screamed, horrified at seeing his older sister die right in front of him.
He saw the figure of the sniper getting up and running away through the smoke. Mustang stood up and sprinted after them. "Hey, you! Get back here! You killed my older sister and her husband!" He yelled, leaving Sara's and Elliot's body to be later disposed of burned by the military.
*~*~*~*~*~
Lieutenant Hawkeye put down her coffee cup as Edward and I sat there, just shell-shocked at what we just heard. "It was only a matter of time before they were exterminated," Lieutenant Hawkeye finished. "It was then that the High Priest of Ishvala, Logue Lowe, stood before the Führer on behalf of his brethren. In time, the war was over, and we ended up returning to our homes."
As we finished our coffees, Edward asked, "But even if the Colonel becomes top soldier, it won't change the fact that this country is a military state, will it?"
"Yeah, well, you have to take the Assembly, which is now more or less a puppet of the military, and move it back to a democratic system, like it should be," Lieutenant Hawkeye explained. "Until you wring out the corruption from the military-state era, the country can't be renewed."
"Corruption?"
"For example, the war criminals of the Ishvalan War of Extermination could be brought to trial. The hero is the civil war would just be another mass murderer in a peaceful world."
"And the Colonel is aiming for the top, knowing all of this? That's a path to suicide, isn't it? The Homunculi were the ones pulling the strings behind the scenes during the civil war."
"Even if the Homunculi were the cause of it, we're the ones who carried it out. You must not turn away from death. You must not forget the people you've killed. The reason being...they certainly won't forget us for killing them."
"But..."
"Before you start worrying about us, you have something else to do, right? You and Alphonse have to get back to your original bodies. There must be many people who are waiting for that day to come."
With our finished coffee and taking in the solemn truth and realization, there was nothing else for us to do but leave. As Edward opened the door and wheeled me out, Lieutenant Hawkeye stood to say her goodbyes. "If I get any new information, I'll let you know," She promised.
"Being the Führer's assistant is like being a hostage, right?" I asked, craning my head back so I could look at her. "Are you going to be all right?"
"If you think about it positively, it also means that given a chance, I can kill the Führer while he sleeps," Lieutenant Hawkeye playfully smirked.
I laughed. "You scare me," I grinned.
As we were almost out of the apartment, Edward turned back around. "Oh, right," he remembered. "Give the Colonel a message for me. Tell him that Scar is on the prowl."
"You got it," She nodded.
As we walked out, Lieutenant Hawkeye stepped out and held Hayate. "Lieutenant..." I started.
"What?" She replied.
"Thanks for telling us about Ishval," I said. "I'm...glad I got to know what my parents were like during the horrors of the war and why the Colonel didn't want me to learn alchemy."
Lieutenant Hawkeye and Edward seemed a bit taken back at what I just said, but she recovered and waved goodbye, even holding Hayate's hand to make him wave goodbye as he barked at us to get going and Edward wheeled me back to the hospital.