AN- Hello again. This one's an idea I got in the middle of writing another one-shot (that I haven't finished quite yet) and the concept interested me, so I scribbled it down. Would've had it up earlier if silly old ffdotnet hadn't been down.



Blindness Self-imposed
(16. Reaching voice and unreachable with a voice)

"Hope in reality is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torment of man."—Nietzsche

"I loved you. Before, I mean."

Roy is sitting up in bed, staring at her strangely, eyes glinting brightly with illness, and Riza has a sudden urge to throw something. Either that, or have a full-blown, toddleresque temper-tantrum, complete with screaming and thrashing of limbs. After all, she's been taking care of him for over three weeks now, and even her strong will is breaking.

And yet…she deserves it, she can't help but think.

"I did. I still do, actually, but it's not a new thing. I've loved you for years."

Riza's hands tighten on the pill jar they're clutching. Three weeks. Three weeks of tending to the general after his confrontation with Pride, after she was delayed and slow and failed to follow through properly with the plan. Three long, miserable weeks of cleaning his wounds and fighting infection and trying to keep the man she loves alive for one more hour…just one fucking more. And now, as if that hell wasn't hard enough to handle, Roy's fever-induced hallucinations and delirious mumblings have to be about her.

About them.

"I did. I do. I'm not lying, I love—"

Hawkeye pushes him down gently. "Sir, please, you have to lie down."

The colonel—general, she has to remind herself, because his title still seems so strange and new—shakes his head, almost frantically. "No. Please, just...listen…"

"Lie down, sir. You're not strong enough to sit up yet."

Riza knows he can't really understand her—that he can't really understand himself right now. She remembers all-too-clearly what the doctor consulted right after the incident had told her: 'As long as his fever remains this high, he'll hallucinate.' She understands that her general is rambling out of sickness, not truth.

"Nngh…Riza, I love you…"

But it's still so fucking hard to hear him say that, and he's been saying it a lot.

"Please, sir. Just rest, it's ok."

It's not ok, actually. It really isn't ok at all. Hearing Roy say what she's dreamt of him saying for years—feels more like millennia—and not really meaning it…god…it's like pouring battery acid into an open wound.

"He'll hallucinate," the doctor, grim and blunt, had informed her. "As long as the infection is there, it will cause a high fever, and the fever will cause delusions. He won't make much sense, probably…although…"

Riza grits her teeth. She is not going to think about the although, not now. Not when everything from the political climate to Roy's chances of survival is so cloudy and uncertain…

"Riza...I…god, I…I love you…"

Damn. Damn! Finally, she gets the top off the pill bottle, and shakes out a couple of small, white pills.

"Here, General. Try and swallow these; they'll help you fall asleep."

She's glad beyond words when Roy finally closes his eyes. Exhausted, she collapses into a chair beside his bed, mentally preparing herself for another all-night vigil.

"I love you, Riza."

He didn't mean it. He didn't know what he was saying.

"Although, it's been said that hallucinations brought on by a high fever can sometimes cause a person to blurt out things they otherwise wouldn't say…their deepest, darkest secrets, if you will."

He didn't mean it. He couldn't have!

Her stomach twists. She suddenly hates the doctor for holding out that branch of hope, because it's such a flimsy one. She knows the general doesn't have any real feelings for her, has gotten used to the idea…but….now she can't help but wonder…

No. Riza shakes her head. No. She will not hope for this. She can't. Refusing to believe is so much better, in the long run, then believing and being let down.


"Rizaa…"

Hawkeye jerks herself awake the second her general's cry reaches her ears. His voice is so fragile…so weak…

"Riza…nngh….Rizaaa…"

Riza. Not Hawkeye, not First Lieutenant. She tries not to let any hope simmer in her chest as she leans over him. "I'm here, sir."

"Riza—Riza…" He looks up at her, wild-eyed and openly trembling (from his fever or from fear, she isn't sure). The bed sheets are soaked with sweat; his unruly black hair is matted down to his skull. Riza feels a sharp pang of…of some emotion that is guilt and dread and desperation all rolled carelessly into one as she looks down at his shivering form.

She's bluntly reminded that this is all her fault.

"Riza." Roy is panting from the force of both his sickness and his dreams. "Riza—I dreamt…you were gone, and—you were gone, I couldn't…."

Riza brings a gentle hand to the side of his face, forcing herself to concentrate on how sick he is rather then how smooth his skin feels. "It's ok, General. I'm here."

"I…Riza…I love you." He's trying to sit up again; Riza has to hold him down. "I do. Please, just—you weren't there, you were gone…"

God…her heart is cracking and her mind is numb; she knows she has to calm him down, knows it's not good for him to be this agitated, this stressed out. She silently curses the fever and the injuries it sprang from and the homunculus who gave those wounds to him. The relatively fresh bandages wrapped around what's left of his eye are already blood-soaked; his expression is so heartbreaking Riza can barely stand to look at it.

But she does, because she loves him, and because she can't allow herself to look away from her general.

(She can't allow herself to believe him, either.)

"Rizaa—I—you have…have to be here….for me…"

Riza's heart is thudding wildly, her chest feels like it's on fire; her mind screams at her to be logical but it's as if she can't control her own body, as if she's moving in a dream, (a dream, or a nightmare, or maybe a bit of both, but whatever it is it can't be real) and before she knows it she's leaning down—this is foolish why am I doing this?—and her lips are brushing his and—god—(she's reached a point from which she can never return)—he's kissing back…

Her general tastes nothing like she thought he would, but how could she ever imagine how natural the flavorings of ash and blood and life combined are upon him? How could she ever envision such an awestruck feeling?

She tries to tell herself she shouldn't put her faith in this, but…Roy's kissing back….(a part of her sneers, he's delirious, what does he know about what he's doing?)…and Riza feels so warm and full and more content then she ever has before…

Roy's skin is burning, giving off warmth that bleeds through her fingertips, and she isn't sure if that's from his high temperature or the fire that coils within him, always. Kissing him is a sensation she's never felt the likes of…

But then it ends.

The kiss ends, of course, and Riza is left half-bent over her general, feeling foolish and gullible, and very addicted.

Roy, calmer now, dozes back off to sleep. His lieutenant stays awake watching him the rest of the night, but he doesn't call her name out again. By the time a few hours have passed, and she is once again in control of her traitorous body, raw embarrassment is already lodged deeply in the pit of her stomach. Having these hours to think everything over clearly has left the situation black-and-white: she was an idiot for hoping, an idiot for kissing him, and an idiot for letting feelings buried so deeply come out to run amuck.

It's the biggest contradiction—she felt so alive when she was kissing him, but now, as if all her life was pulled from her breath to his, she is nothing but impossibly drained.

It was an irrational mistake. He didn't know what he was doing. He was delirious.

She does not dare to hope.


Roy's fever breaks early the next morning. By late afternoon he's lucid enough to be aware of his surroundings and able to carry on an admittedly stilted conversation. His speech, though disoriented and sluggish, is perfectly understandable. He heals quite quickly from then on.

He doesn't remember anything he said or did during his illness. Riza doesn't remind him.