His memories of Ishval still haunted him.
He'd never told her so, but she knew. She could see the occasional darkness that would flash in his eyes, and she could see the scars of his actions on his face whenever the civil war was mentioned.
But mostly, she knew because of the dreams.
They didn't happen every night. And sometimes, if times were good, he could go months without them. But they always reared their ugly heads eventually, and even after all these years, she still didn't know how to help him.
Tonight was no different. His body was coated in the cold sweat of fear, his face contorted in pain, and his hands shook as they clutched at the sheets of her bed.
She had learned long ago that waking him was no good, for he would only lie, tell her he was fine, and turn away from her. Watching him dream, as helpless as it made her feel, was less heartbreaking than having him shut her out completely.
Riza clutched the sheet to her chest and propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes never moving from his tortured face. His teeth were clenched, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and she wondered whether this time, he was dreaming about the atrocities he'd seen, or the ones he'd performed. It was always a toss-up, though more often than not, she'd realized, he dreamed about burning flesh.
With the ever steady hand of a sniper, she reached out to wipe the hair from his eyes and the sweat from his brow. It was so strange to see a man who was always unbendable, always unbreakable, become so easily shattered at the cruel and unforgiving hands of the past when he let his guard down to the night.
By day, he was her superior, the fierce and ambitious Colonel with a will that could not be bent. He was the strongest man she knew, and she and the rest of his team trusted them with their lives, for they were in his hands to do with what he pleased.
But by night, he was just Roy, just a man who had been through hell with a woman by his side to witness it all. She was the only one he allowed to see his human side, his weaknesses, and he trusted her with that knowledge because she was the only one who truly understood it. She felt a responsibility to watch over him when he was this vulnerable, because that had always been her job. And so, every time the dreams plagued him, she would lie beside him, watching, stroking his hair, waiting for him to still and fall into peaceful sleep once again.
And tonight was no different.
Riza pressed her lips to his temple, and some of his trembling subsided. It was only a matter of time until the dreams would leave him alone, at least for tonight, and she could curl back up beside him and let herself succumb to sleep once again. Until then, the hawk's eye would watch over him, the same as it always did.
