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twilight_lamentUniverse: FMA - The Great and Terrible Future
Characters: Riza, Envy
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, Violence
Summary: You cannot find two beings more different that Riza Hawkeye and the homunculus Envy. She is calm, reasonable, kind, and generally understanding. Envy is brazen, vengeful, snide, and generally vicious.
Disclaimer: I do not owe Fullmetal Alchemist. This is a transformative fan work and no copyright infringement is intended or implied.
You cannot find two beings more different that Riza Hawkeye and the homunculus Envy. She is calm, reasonable, kind, and generally understanding. Envy is brazen, vengeful, snide, and generally vicious. That the two of them have survived each others presence in close proximity for over two and a half years is nothing short of a miracle in Riza's eyes. Right now she wonders if that miracle is about to end because she can almost hear the words that are about to roll off the snide homunculus' tongue. Her eyes narrow in warning, but he's in a right pissy mood and nothing seems to satisfy him more in this state then going for her proverbial throat.
"I can't help it your precious Mustang didn't care enough about you to let go of his hatred." The words drive into Riza's gut, hitting the few places that remain for her to be hurt. It's worse when he shifts into Roy's form a moment later, looking at her with such malice in those dark eyes. "You should be grateful I'm making all of your dreams come true." CRACK! Riza fist meets that smirking mouth with no restraint in the blow. His eyes gleam because that is precisely what he wanted and she hates herself for giving in to him. Today he continues the fight in Roy's form, knowing it will push her past the carefully controlled sanity she maintains.
He flips back out of the way of another vicious punch only to flip back towards her, catching her in the stomach with his boot. It knocks the breath out of her, but the Captain twists, slamming her elbow into that arrogant chin with a hard set to her jaw. They trade blows back and forth across the Furher's office - some dodged or deflected, others landing solidly and eliciting a satisfying amount of pain. What's really unfair in Riza's mind is that he will suffer no lingering marks of their mutual brutality. She'll be bruised and sore for days.
Oh she could level the playing field with the guns hanging on the back of her chair. She could probably kill him, but killing each other isn't the point and even as angry as they both are, they also know they have no real desire to end the other's life. Bruise, hurt, and torture yes, but not kill. So she doesn't get her guns and Envy is consciously careful on how hard he handles her. Silently he's thankful that she's very durable for a human.
Her back hits the fine, expensive carpet in the Furher's office and a trickle of blood from the cut on her lip trickles down the side of her cheek. Roy's face gets up close and personal with a sneer when Envy pins her hands to the ground. But Riza isn't willing to cede the battle yet, because in his quest for victory, Envy gets a little too cocksure of himself and forgets that the Captain fights dirty when in a hand to hand scrap.
He realizes what's about to happen though too late to stop it. Her knee connects hard with his groin and painful stars burst behind his eyes. She's done it before therefore he should have been prepared, and he's pretty sure she's put the family jewels in his throat this time. Maybe wearing Roy's face this long wasn't such a great idea. His hands loosen on their own accord as this pain doesn't fade quite as fast as it should. With one leg bent, foot planted on the ground, Riza gains both leverage and strength long enough to flip Envy over. Her legs clamp around his hips, her booted feet lock at his knees. Hands grip his wrists and she uses her weight to compensate (or try to) for his greater, inhuman strength.
"Take it off." She snarls at him, tired of seeing Roy's face, tired of the pain it brings. Envy laughs with Roy's voice, a mocking sound, and he knows he should stop pushing her with a dead man's visage, but its rare that she'll actually get physical with him; rare that he gets to see all that rage and pain bubble up from her carefully controlled exterior. So he pushes head on and head strong. He lifts his head from the ground, straining to get right in the Captain's face.
"Come on now, Captain! You've dreamed of having him in this position for years, even when he was screwing his best friend! Why not take advantage of it now? Or is that why you're so...." Wham! Over and over her fist slams into his jaw and the crazed, pained look in her eyes pleases him. Tears fall from those brown eyes, never more beautiful than when they reflect her inner agony, but her fist never wavers, she doesn't stop.
"Fuck you!" Followed by, "Don't you mean fuck him?" Followed by more hitting and tears that he doesn't try to stop. They scream words of hatred at each other that, in that moment at least, are true enough. But Envy just can't stop pushing his luck.
"You know, he liked it rough, but I doubt this rough." He hears something metal scrape and claw on his desk, sees her fist coming in with something silvery glinting in the light. His eyes widen in a sudden pang of fear when he finally recognizes the letter opener. The bit of metal slams into his shoulder, pulling a yowl of pain from his throat. It sounds too much like him, Envy, and as a result some of that fury in her eyes abates. She's vacillating, relenting. He can't allow that to happen.
"Riza," he begins in a low, sweet voice that is all Roy, "you know I love you." His eyes are soft and warm - fake. It's a knife cutting through her chest. It's Envy's hand ripping into her chest and tearing at her heart. It's Roy looking at her with such cold fury right before he tried to kill her. It's abject suffering; and it does exactly what the calculating asshole wanted. She rips the opener from his arm with a ragged yell and drives down with it again.
It stops at his throat, the tip just barely pressed against his skin with enough force to draw a tiny bit of blood to the surface.
Her chest heaves and hot tears and blood fall on his face from her wide, misery filled eyes mingling with the cut on her lip. Riza's hand shakes and she's so tempted to push the bit of metal straight through his throat - over and over again. Agony and suffering mark every fiber of her being and Envy soaks it in even with his fear still very real in his mind. Then, abruptly she stands, throwing the opener into some forgotten corner. She looks wild and lost and then she's gone out the door. His jeering laughter follows.
Hours later and she hasn't returned. Envy grows restless, agitated and he wonders if he's pushed her too far this time. Maybe she would have been fine if he hadn't made such a pointed mockery of her deepest feelings for Roy; a love that had never been returned. Night falls and there is no word from her and the worst begins to run through his head, that she's drunk in some bar spilling their secrets because she no longer cares, that she's finally taken her gun and taken her life, that she's left him.
Anxiousness nips at his heels when he leaves the office. In a quiet space, he shifts forms again to someone unknown because he doesn't want to be bothered right now. He goes to Capelli's , her favorite restaurant, to the park where she takes evening walks, to every place he can think she might go. Finally he goes to her house. The front door is unlocked and his inner worry deepens. Broken glass litters the kitchen floor and the rich scent of bourbon fills the air from the shattered bottle. The sound of water from the shower calls his attention and Envy's inhuman heart thuds deep in his chest.
However he doesn't find a dead woman in the shower, just a broken one. Riza sits on the floor of the tub with scalding water beating down over her. Her skin is red and raw from the water - marked with bruises and cuts from their fight, and of course the elaborate tattoo on her back marred by what would turn out to be the real Roy's final gift to her - freedom from Fire Alchemy. He knows the story because she'd told it to him one night in her bed when liquor had made her tongue looser than usual.
"Riza." He gets no response. Envy crouches next to the tub and with a gentleness that surprises him, brushes wet, golden locks behind her ear. Her eyes are open, but she sees nothing with her knees curled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them as if she could ward off all the pain inside of her. The pose, the look, it all shakes Envy's world. She's the strong one, the resilient one who bounces back from his rages and never seems to hold it against him. She's patient even in her exasperation, steady in the face of his instability. Hurried hands turn off the water.
"Riza." He calls her name this time with a note of pleading. At least she blinks this time, but the far off look doesn't fade. Her skin is too hot to the touch; her muscles too rigid under his hands. Envy pries her out of the tub and finally coaxes the woman to stand on her feet. He dries off the water as if he could erase the broken, blank look in her eyes. The bruises stand out starkly and she's littered with them. Her human flesh can't erase suffering with the ease of his. She moves only when he makes her and doesn't resist when he puts her robe on and her carries her into the small bedroom.
Envy pulls her against him, tucks her face under his chin and holds her a bit too tightly even though she makes no protest. Fear coils in him because he has no idea how to make this right. No clue as to how to pull her out of the black pit he hadn't meant to shove her into in the first place. It's long hours of her distant staring and his growing unease before the damn breaks and the tears fall again.
Ragged sounds.
Pain filled sounds.
Tears hot enough to scorch his chest all the way to his inhuman heart.
This time he doesn't mock her agony or drive her anguish. She's so close to oblivion that he can't really enjoy it anyway. So Envy holds her in way unfamiliar to him and strokes her long, damp hair the way she does his on long train rides. When she falls asleep he feels a deep seated sense of relief
that goes all the way to his bones. Yet he doesn't move to his normal post at the foot of her bed with her legs in his grip. He keeps her close to that inhuman heart, and promises himself and her that he'll never push her that far again.
He knows it's a lie, knows he will do it again when his anger runs too hot and fast to be ignored. But he chooses to believe his own lie for now because she'd almost slipped away from him.
