A/N: an old thing I found.
"Colonel..." her voice was quiet. "are you crying?"
He wasn't sobbing, the tears hadn't fallen yet. Only his harsh breathing and quivering shoulders let her know. The gentle pitter-patter of rain outside the hospital window nearly silenced him, but she still heard. Roy shook his head, mentally cursing himself. He honestly didn't want her to notice and tried to quiet himself.
"I'm not lieutenant. It's the rain and wind outside."
Her lips parted a moment, then shut again.
From her end of the room Roy could faintly hear her bed shifting and hesitant claps of bare feet traveling across the floor. He tensed and sighed. "Lieutenant lie down. You can't be out of bed yet." The footsteps paused a moment. Then they shortly resumed until he felt her weight press onto the bed. He couldn't help but laugh inwardly. "You're as stubborn as an ox."
She recalled such words and smiled somewhat. "Yes sir."
Two days have passed since the events underground. A majority of their wounds have begun healing, a few lingered sourly. Thoughts and memories stung into Roy's brain rather than the pain from his hands and mildly fuzzy eyes.
He turned to her, her outline faint in the dark. "What is it?"
Her lips parted a moment. They hung that way until she found her words shortly after. "It's not healthy to hold in your crying like that." she touched his forearm. "What's bothering you colonel..?" she was hesitant to ask. He noted her hesitation and sighed. Her throat felt thick and her eyes fell to the mattress. "You should go to sleep sir." She knew what could be eating at him, but she couldn't identify the specific thing. So much has happened, torn away at him, torn away at her.
Panic, sweat and choking.
Roy glanced at her, then to his knees. "I should."
There was a pause and she soon begun to stand. He felt the bed shift and creak.
"Lieutenant."
She stopped moving, turning to him again. "Sir?"
What could he say, could he do, what could he think? His fingers ghosted over her wrist, noticeably getting a shiver from her. His grip tightened and lifted her palm to his other hand. He wrapped them around hers slowly; very slowly. He couldn't tell, but her eyes were widened slightly. He closed his eyes a moment, squeezing her hand. Riza felt the need to say something, anything to him.
"...Sir?" was all she could but whisper.
There was another silence, he couldn't hear her. He opened his eyes.
Harsh breathing, frantic glances.
Concerned, Riza slipped her palm out of his grasp, stirring him seemingly back to life. She touched his shoulder then swiftly turned him to her. "Colonel, please" she began, "say something. What's wrong?" after saying them, she realized how obnoxious those words sounded. She should know at this point a question like this wont get much of an answer, a good one at least.
Roy's lip twitched and he spoke, "I'm sorry. Lieutenant."
"Don't be."
He touched the hand that rested on his shoulder. Her skin was chilly and he could recall her bad habit of sleeping without any covers. Feeling his touch, she gave his shoulder a faint squeeze. He moved towards her, ever so slightly. She could feel his body heat, even faintly smell his breath. It smelled like the weak coffee they gave the two. She instinctively pulled away.
"Colonel."
Roy stopped moving, stopped thinking.
He could feel her move some. She was looking at his hand that pressed against the bed. Her breathing was still quiet, but her eyes read something of concern and uneasiness. He had never told her what was wrong. That was all it was and that helped him relax.
"I was thinking about your blood."
Riza flinched. "You were thinking of what?" She regretted the question. She heard him just fine and didn't want to hear it again. "Why?"
"It was so red and god, there was so much of it." he murmured. He felt his stomach churning at the image. Red ooze puddling around her, staining her clothes, madding her hair. All of it tore into him, especially the realization she was too weak to even pick her head up from the floor. He remembered the doctor's golden toothed smile, his despicable laughter. He had killed a few of the "failed attempts at fuhrers," but damn it, all he wanted to do was burn that man to a crisp.
She gasped quietly as he pulled her hand from his shoulder and clasped it like before. Her fingers squirmed in his grasp, trying to pry out, but he held on tight. "Sir please" she mumbled, "your hands are still recovering." he didn't move.
He looked up at her face.
Half lidded brown eyes, gritted teeth.
She was the only one he could remember being there all the time. She stood near him, told him what to do. A shining light.
She wasn't surprised when he kissed her. He had quickly fallen into her, hands leaving her one that he held and taking hold of her arms. She gripped the front of his gown, fearing being pushed over. His lips traveled from her own to her cheek then to her collarbone. Riza bit her bottom lip. She could feel him scoot closer, pulling her to him as well. Hands drifted over her arms, touched her hands and glided over her hips.
He faintly recalled hearing a pillow fall as her back touched the bed. Gentle hands slid up his chest and looped around his neck. Her nails were untrimmed and they dragged along his skin pleasantly.
What if you had gone away? He had wanted to ask. He knew that wasn't something she could answer and something he didn't want to think about.
She recalled him mumbling her name and kissing her cheek twice before the storm outside grew louder.