Roy hugged his pillow close, his legs drawn up, his face hidden into the fabric of the pillowcase. He had not even found the energy to remove his uniform, barely had had the presence of mind to untie his boots before he collapsed on the narrow army-bed.
It was a childish gesture, he knew that. Something he would consider overly dramatic at any other time. Not today though.
Even Hawkeye had avoided meeting his eyes today. Even Breda had not known what to say, had only squeezed his shoulder in quiet sympathy while he had packed his briefcase in the office.
Havoc, reliable Havoc, he had stood waiting for him outside of the Eastern command office before Roy had left, offering him a smoke. He had accepted. That in itself was already remarkable, but more so was the fact that Hawkeye, who had refused to let him out of her sight, had not even made the slightest comment.
He had inhaled deeply, hoping that the foul taste of the tobacco would chase away all other thoughts. Of course it had not.
On the train, he had only been able to stare out of the window, too tired to think, after a sleepless night filled with phone calls, after a morning spent packing a few scarce belongings, after an afternoon waiting for the train to arrive.
A knock sounded on his door, a well-known voice softly tried to get through to him. "Sir…Sir? Are you not hungry?"
He clutched the pillow closer. He did not want to go outside. Too many people knew him here in Central. There would be questions, and pitiful looks, and faces marked by grief. He was not ready, not yet.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would be able to face them all, but not today.
"Sir. You have to eat something. Can I come in?"
He would have to say something, anything or she would knock down his door within minutes. He knew that she was worried.
Roy forced his muscles to relax a little and let go of the pillow. He pushed himself up on his elbow before he croaked back. "Not tonight Riza."
A silence followed, then the sound of footsteps fading away, then nothing.
Minutes after she had left, he realised he had used her first name. Now she would be really worried. Damn.
He curled up on the bed again, shivering slightly. The weather in Central was cooler than the East had been. He pulled up a blanket and tried to close his eyes.
He failed miserably, stared at the wall instead, and tried to forget the sound of a ringing phone.
He had no idea how much time had passed when another knock at the door startled him from his half-sleep. "I told you, Hawkeye, leave me alone." This time at least he managed to sound a little more like his usual self.
The answering voice was not that of Hawkeye though. "Roy-boy, I know you're in there. If you don't open up this very second, I'm never going to let you into the bar again."
With a sigh he drew himself up and made his way to the door. He did not wait for her to enter after he had unbolted the lock though. Instead he walked back to his bed and threw himself down, curling up around his pillow as he had only moments before.
Madame Christmas closed the door and approached much more gently than one would have expected from her initial tone of voice. She sat down next to him on the bed and ruffled his already unkempt hair. "Riza came to me, she told me what had happened. I could not leave before closing the bar, or I would have been here sooner." She knew better than to ask him why he had not let his trusted lieutenant in. He had never been one to ask for help for himself.
"She's upset too." He murmured to the wall. "She shouldn't be worried about me."
"But she is, my boy. As you are about her." He felt how Madame rested her hand between his shoulder blades, and somehow her touch felt comforting, despite everything.
He turned around, blinking a couple of times and willing himself not to give in to his emotions, "Is she okay?"
Madame shook her head. "She is shocked and sad. I gave her a room, and asked Jennifer and Daisy to keep her company. She worries more about you than about herself though, as usual."
Roy nodded, and turned on his back. He stared at the woman that had been as a mother to him. "I cannot do this, Madame. Not without him."
"Yes you can." It was barely a whisper, "You have always managed to find a way. He would not have wanted you to give up now."
Roy could hear the silent plea in her voice. She wished those words to be true, she wanted him to pick himself up and continue once again, as he had already done far too many times before.
"What is there left to fight for?" He had not realised he had spoken aloud, not until he saw her expression shift.
"Do not tell me you have forgotten." When he did not answer, she continued. "You have to fight for redemption, if nothing else. For the dream which you chased together with Maes for such a long time. For the woman you swore to protect. For those two young boys that have landed in your care. They deserve a brighter future."
"They do." He felt numb, and tired, and closed his eyes, hiding from the woman that had taken the place of a mother, hiding from the world.
She caressed his cheek and pressed a kiss on his head before she rose. "Sleep now, Roy-boy, you need it, and come to me tomorrow. We'll figure this out. Together we can get through this."
He did not answer but turned back to his side, curled around his pillow.
Tomorrow, tomorrow he would be ready to face the world, but tonight he just wanted to forget the ringing of a phone and the utter lack of sound on the other end when he had picked it up.