Shotgun Angel

Disclaimer: Pink Pritstick gets the credit for the idea on this one. I was reading her "Of the Jigsaw", read number four, and saw this little bit go through my head. Then, it went on repeat, so I had to ask her if it was okay to write and post this. Thanks for saying yes!

What choice did Roy have? His orders were clear: kill them. All of them. He raised his hand and put his thumb and two fingers together. The child, the innocent child no more than six years of age, flinched as the sharp sound echoed through the nearly empty village.

He did not know she was following him, and she would keep it that way, for both their sakes. While she had her orders to cover the soldiers, she would never be able to claim that she had simply missed. She was just too good.

So why did it feel like she was missing this time? She knew what she was aiming for; she just did not like the target. She was terrified. On-target felt like a miss, but even slightly off-target would be fatal.

Despite her reservations, her terror, Riza had to do it. She would be damned if another innocent life was taken in front of her, especially by Roy's unwilling hands.

She carefully took aim.


Roy's sleeve was soaked, and the child was long-gone by some miracle. Some bloody, messy, painful miracle, but a miracle all the same.

As he trudged back to the base, cradling his bleeding hand, he took a look around, realizing that the sniper would have to have been in a surrounding building, judging by the angle of the shot.

If he had been paying attention (and thankfully he was not), he would have noticed two things:

1) the bullet, used only by Amestrian soldiers, and

2) the blue uniform, sand-colored cover, and blond hair disappearing beneath a window sill at what was undoubtedly the best vantage point of all.

Years later, Roy looks back on that instant. He cannot—or will not—remember certain parts, but somehow, he likes to remember the shot bringing him around.

He calls his savior his "shotgun angel"—what else could he call them? Thankfully, the only two people he has told--Maes and Riza--understand.

Maes always shrugs it off. The shooter was off-target, he guesses. A pretty bad shot, he guesses. But still, he counts Roy lucky to have survived.

Riza, on the other hand, looks surprised that he still remembers it. She has not told him. She never will. It would make it too easy for him to tell her to turn the gun on him again, something she has sworn will be her absolute last resort.

Still, it makes her wonder what would have happened if things had turned out differently, if she had allowed him to snap. She knows she did the right thing, but maybe not the right way.

This thinking inspires a certain look, one that Roy recognizes from Ishbal and simply assumes that Riza is reliving her own horrors.

He is right, just not in the way he thinks he is.

Riza would prefer to keep it that way.


A/N: I know, I know. Not my best. I haven't written much lately because of school and college applications. At least the applications are done, now, but I need to get back into the swing of writing. Also, it was really hard to put the scene into words at certain points.