Work Text:
Somewhere, deep in Roy’s heart, he knew that this day would come.
Maybe it was as long ago as when she had first answered his knock on the door to her father’s decrepit house, such a small and lonely child.
Maybe it was when he saw her hardened and hopeless in the violent deserts of Ishval.
Maybe it was when she had begged him to disfigure her with the very fire that had caused so much destruction.
Maybe it was when she was on her knees, sobbing in front of the homonculus woman, surrounded by her own bullet shells and gunpowder, her voice shredded by her own agonized screams.
Maybe he didn’t really know when. But somehow, he had always known that one day he would have to see her die. And that it would be his fault.
He could only watch as the blade bit into Riza’s throat, sharp and unforgiving.
Her eyes never left his face. She didn't look afraid—not of pain, she’d had too much of her share, and not of death, not when it always so close to them.
She just looked a little sad.
She fell to the cold, hard floor, her own blood already pooling around her, and Roy cried out as his heart shattered.