"Quick, get Colonel Mustang!"

That was all that the team kept screaming, and they all had a reason for it, too.

Their lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, was currently laying beneath them, blood pouring from a gash on the side of her abdomen and the same coppery substance making a trail from her mouth. She stared straight forward, to the ceiling above (although it was clouded by two worried faces surrounding her), her eyes already halfway shut from the immense bodily-desire to succumb to darkness.

"Just hold on, Lieutenant, the Colonel and the other two will be back soon with medical attention." Jean Havoc. His words made her look above her forehead to see his face.

"Yes, sir..." she practically breathed out.

Her chest heaved itself up and down as air entered and exited her body, her mouth doing the same. She kept blinking, and it was getting on her nerves, knowing how close her body was to losing touch with reality. A few more times and they shut, not opening like the two were hoping for.

"Lieutenant!" Kain Fuery. The poor boy was scared to death himself at the thought she was dead.

But his screaming shook her awake, as she was greeted by now two pairs of eyes who had- from what it looked like- seen death come back to life.

"Lieutenant, I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Just keep answering and talking, alright?" Havoc asked.

"Okay..." she mumbled out.

"What is my name?"

"Jean... Havoc..."

"What's his name?"

She stayed quiet for a moment to breath. "Kain Fuery."

"What is the Colonel's name?"

"Roy Mustang."

"Where are you right now?"

Again she went quiet. She looked him in the eyes, almost wanting him to answer for her. "I... I think underground... A sewer system..."

"Good, what for?"

"To capture a group of... five murderers..."

He didn't have time to answer any further questions, as the sound of boots running towards them echoed off the walls. It only lasted for a few seconds before the two men saw the Colonel running at them, obviously the most worried out of the group with the other two trailing along behind.

"How is she?" he yelled upon coming near them.

He was at her side, another face filling the void above her head. "Not good. She's loosing to much blood," Havoc replied.

Mentally the Colonel was more than freaked out, and he was praying to anyone that would listen that it wouldn't come down to the final option.

"Sir... if she's loosing this much blood, shouldn't we patch it up?" Fuery asked cautiously.

"Believe me, I know... But..." He couldn't take his eyes off of the bloody mess coating her tan coat and brown form-fitting undershirt.

"Don't tell me you're really thinking about doing that..." Havoc asked.

By then the two other men were standing behind the group, listening and refusing to get in their way.

"I might have to... It's just like my own wound with Lust..."

"But, Sir, this is even worse!" Fuery nearly yelped with how shocked and mortified he was.

He practically ignored the scared boy in exchange for looking down at Hawkeye.


"Sir?" Again she breathed out air to talk.

"We don't have much time with how quickly you're losing blood. I'm going to have to cauterize it shut. You alright with that?" The four soldiers around him were frightened at the idea, even more so at how the Colonel's voice betrayed his own fright.

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Alright..." he mumbled, pulling his gloves out of his trench coat and putting them on. He then gently laid his hands onto her own hand, the one holding her side with the wound. "I'm going to remove your hand, alright?" Ever so carefully he lifted her hand off the blood bath. Fuery, with the inability the watch the gore, kept his gaze on her face, which showed a grimace she was trying desperately to hide.

With her hand now resting on the cement, the Colonel grasped the bottom of her brown shirt and un-tucked it to pull it up right below her breasts. He swallowed the bile steadily rising up his throat at the sight of simply how much blood there was, making it nearly impossible to see the actual wound.

He shrugged off his coat, softly applying the cloth to her side to soak up some of the red substance. After quickly repeating the process several times (and stealing Fuery and Falman's coats, as well) he could work with her mangled skin.

"Ready?" he nearly whispered.

All four men stood off to the side on her left and right, a few feet away to stay out of firing range, even if it wouldn't fly away from her skin. They all gulped or stifled a shiver from going down their spine.

"Yes, sir," she repeated.

He brought the glove to her side, not touching the skin. With a snap, fire burned her side, starting to close up the wound. Her pupils shrunk, her eyes doing the exact opposite. She brought her hands quickly to her mouth to mute a scream.

"Someone stuff her mouth!" Mustang yelled, refusing to stop searing the wound shut in case he would chicken out.

Heymans Breda was the first one to react, yanking his top coat off and pulling out a somewhat large white cloth from an inside pocket. He bent down and nearly ran away at her face, stained with tears and her eyes now painfully sealed shut- the only sound being her screams slightly dulled by her hands. He used one hand to grip her hands and pull them away, replacing the cloth inside her mouth instead. Her hands, once released, went immediately back to her mouth to grip at the material.

The man tried to get back up, but he tripped on apparently nothing. His eyes instead stayed glued on the Lieutenant's face. He would of appreciated help from the other three men, but that thought didn't even cross his mind with all of them watching what now seemed nothing more than a little girl.

Mustang, on the other hand, was focused on nothing more than her skin, which he carefully and meticulously continued to close. It took just over a minute for him to finish, which was only on account of his desire to stop burning her for a second time.

With the process done, the grimace on the Lieutenant's face relaxed and her death hold on the cloth dropped. Ragged breaths left her mouth, also muffled back the material. Mustang leaned over her and pulled the cloth out of her mouth.

"Lieutenant, can you hear me?" he whispered.

"Y-Yes, sir..." She apparently couldn't force herself to think of something less repetitive to say, but Mustang could care less as long as she was talking.

"We need to move you now. Just tell me if we hurt you, alright?" He kept asking for permission, like she was the commanding officer it seemed.

"Okay..." she spoke with the assumption she was too tired for formalities.

Mustang stood up and first walked over to Havoc. "Just help me pick her up, I'll carry her on my back..." he mumbled to the man before stepping over to Fuery. "I want you to go ahead of us and make reservations at the nearest hospital."

The shorter man saluted and ran off ahead of them at at full sprint. They soon heard a clanking sound, along with what seemed like claws scrapping occasionally at the ground. A bark came afterwards with the scrapping not stopping. Into their sight came Black Hayate, who they had situated to sit on top of the manhole. A clever move on the Colonel and Lieutenant's part to ward off anyone from even being nosy.

The dog didn't stop until he was in front of Hawkeye, where he brought his head down to sniff her face. She turned her head and looked at her dog with tired eyes, trying to figure out how to make him not worry about her.

"I-It's alright, boy..." she whispered to him. With that he licked her cheek, laying down next to her.

It was quiet for a few seconds as the remaining men stared at the dog, possibly giving Hawkeye more help than all of them could together. "Chief, I would suggest just leaving her here with the dog, but she's gotta get medical attention," Havoc hushed into Roy's ear.

"I know, come on," he quietly replied.

He stepped over to Hawkeye and knelled down next to her. "Lieutenant, are you alright for me and Havoc to lift you up?" he softly asked.

"Y-Yeah... Would... Would it be a problem for me to hold Black Hayate?

The Colonel couldn't help but think she was a little crazy for asking that, but he complied. First he whispered something to Falman, which had him running out the same direction Fuery went and leaving the other men slightly confused. Instead of trying to get Havoc to help, he had the man pick up the dog, which allowed Mustang to pick up Hawkeye bridal-style with her injured side facing outward. Havoc then placed the dog belly-up near Roy's abdomen on Hawkeye's stomach, to which the woman brought her free hand over to pet under the dog's chin.

"How do you expect to climb out of here now?" Breda asked cautiously.

"Don't worry, he should be coming back soon..." Mustang replied with a somewhat distant look.

As if on cue the men heard two sets of boots running in their direction, apparently entering from a different manhole. Within sight came Major Armstrong and Fuery.

"I got him, sir!" the younger man called from slightly behind Armstrong.

Mustang didn't wait a second before stepping directly under the manhole. "Climb up and open the plate," he spoke to Fuery, who continued running until he got to the metal ladder. "And, Major, please use your alchemy to lift us out of here," he requested without taking his eyes off of the halfway unconscious Lieutenant.

"Have no doubts, sir, as my alchemy passed down from generations will easily get you and your team out of these sewers!" he proclaimed. With that the manhole was removed and sunlight started pouring in from above. The major pounded his fists into the ground, and the cement directly below Roy's feet extended upward to lay flat in the place where the manhole used to be.

"Thank the major for me, please," the Colonel yelled to Fuery, who saluted before waiting for the Major to replace the cement and head back down.

Mustang, though, was already off and running to the nearest military hospital with Hawkeye either asleep or headed there and Hayate looking up at him with sad eyes.