AN: i think arguing royai is my new favourite thing to write/read hehe
"what were you thinking?!"
"Hawkeye," the Colonel growled, but Riza ignored him and breezed past, into her bathroom. She grimaced at the sight of her face in the mirror, noting the blood in her hair and trailing down her face. It had dried and cracked, irritating her skin and making her feel filthy. In the moment she hadn't noticed it. While adrenaline was rushing through her veins it wasn't even a thought, but now it was all over, she just wanted a long, hot, shower.
"Hawkeye!" She closed the door on him and his ranting.
A shower first, then she'd deal with his tantrum.
Riza understood he was worried about her. She knew that. In the reverse situation, she'd feel the same way, but this was her job. He never seemed to understand that about her.
The water pounded against her skin, the heat of it burning her nerve ends and setting her skin alight. Anything to wash away the troubles of the night. Roy was quiet outside the door and Riza knew he'd be pacing in her living room or something, too restless to simply sit still.
Riza turned to grab the soap to scrub her face, but she winced and let out a hiss of pain. Automatically bringing her hand up to her injured side, she clutched it. Damn it. She'd forgotten about that one. A poorly aimed stab resulted in a gash across her side, midway down her torso. A hand was placed on the tile in front of her to brace herself as wave after wave of pain washed over her. The water stung in her wound and Riza flinched away from it.
Washing herself free of the dried blood and grime took a lot less time than she would have liked thanks to that wound. Shutting off the water, Riza stepped out of her shower and grabbed a towel, not caring that blood would get over the white fabric.
The cut was ugly and ran from underneath her breast, around her back to underneath her shoulder blade. Riza sighed at the sight of it, but it was just another one to add to her collection. Opening the cabinet, she dug out a patch and bandages, ignoring the shaking in her hands as she clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth against the pain ravishing her torso. Wrapping it up was a quick affair, but it would do to stop blood covering her carpet and clothes after getting dressed. It was at such an awkward angle that she couldn't properly clean it either. To do so, she had to stretch, and that made the pain worse. Giving up, she tossed the unused bandages in the sink and pressed the pad in place. It would need to be properly looked at.
Hesitantly she poked her head out into her bedroom. Roy had seen more of her than anyone else had, but that didn't mean Riza wanted him to see her right now. Plus, he wasn't the kind of person to confront her, half naked, in her bedroom after exiting the shower. No, he'd be stewing in her living room, waiting for her to exit. She was half tempted to leave him there. She was tired, she was sore, she just wanted to curl up with her dog and go to sleep. But Riza rarely got what she wanted in this life.
Putting on her pyjamas was a painful affair. She bit her lip throughout to try and hide the pain, leaving her panting at the end as her wound stretched.
Just as Riza thought, he was waiting for her in her living room. Roy was pacing in place, a frown on his face while his chin rested on his fingers. Hayate sat on the rug in front of the fire, watching him, but when Riza exited, her dog trotted over to Riza, following her to her kitchen.
The room was silent for a moment as she readied herself a cup of tea. The pot was filled with extra water to boil so she could sterilise anything if she needed to while patching herself up.
"What were you thinking?" His tone was quiet. Dangerous. Riza rolled her eyes, preparing herself for his tirade. He had no right. She was only doing her job.
"Tea?" she asked, ignoring him.
"Hawkeye –" he barked.
"Sir, would you like a tea or not?" she glanced over her shoulder, noting how his jaw set, his expression hardening.
"No," he spat out. "Now –"
"Sir, I'm tired. Can this wait for another time?"
"What were you thinking?!" he growled angrily.
"It's my job!" she snapped, her voice rising in volume. Something inside of her broke. He had no right to talk to her this way. It was her job to protect him and she'd done that tonight, and yet he felt it was appropriate to yell in her face about it, about how "stupid" she'd been. "Or have you forgotten that?"
"It's not your job to get yourself killed," he fired back.
"I'm not dead, am I?" she asked, demanding an answer from him. "I'm more than capable, and I don't need you breathing down my neck and scolding me like a child for doing what I'm being paid to do!"
"You were reckless –"
"To you, yes, but only because I got hurt. If I hadn't gotten hurt, there would be no problem, would there?" she challenged him, and she saw the spark in his eye. Riza knew she was right. She'd hit the nail on the head. "If it was any of the other men, you wouldn't be throwing such a fit, but I vowed to protect you so you could reach to the top. Conveniently, you've suddenly forgotten that just because I got injured."
"I've not forgotten that," he replied, tone controlled.
"Really?" she scoffed. Riza crossed her arms. "Because that's exactly what it looks like from my side. "In order to do my job effectively I need you to stop holding me back. We have a history, I get that, and if the situation was reversed, I would be worried sick about you too, but the world can not stop still just because I'm in a dangerous position. I'm expendable. You're not."
Fire flashed in his eyes, but Riza was right. When it was broken down, that was the basics of their professional relationship. She'd sacrifice herself for him so he could keep on living.
"Never refer to yourself that way." His voice was low and dangerous again. He was angry, but, yet again, he'd conveniently forgotten that she was employed as his bodyguard and would take a bullet for him if it was required.
"It's the truth," she shrugged.
"No, it's not," he ground out.
"Personally, maybe, yes," Riza corrected herself. "But professionally? I'm your bodyguard, Roy. That means I lay my life down for you to protect you, so you can keep on working for the top, unharmed."
"I don't want that to happen."
Riza offered him a sympathetic smile. "Then this isn't going to work out."
Roy stared her down, unable to offer her anything further, but only because he knew she was right. He just didn't want to admit it. Riza took no pleasure in proving him wrong and having this discussion, but she needed to be able to do her job effectively. She couldn't be held back like that by him just because he was worried.
Riza poured herself the tea and reached automatically for the sugar, then winced and gasped in pain. Her hand flew to her side and she bit her lip, riding out the pain.
"You're right," Roy spoke with finality. "This isn't going to work."
Glancing up, Riza watched his retreating back. Her apartment door closed with a click, but it sounded like a gunshot in her mind. Sighing, and hanging her head for a brief moment, Riza accepted his decision.
They were done.
Riza didn't know what this meant but right now she didn't care. Numbness was setting in. All she could worry about was getting the wound treated and having her tea to soothe the twisting in her stomach.
The blood had seeped through the pad and onto her t-shirt. Changing into just a bra and tossing her bloody t-shirt aside, Riza re-entered her kitchen to pick up her better equipped first aid bag – Only to find Roy back in her kitchen, laying medical supplies across her table. He glanced up but barely flinched that she was only in her bra.
"Here," he beckoned with a jerk of his head. "Have a seat," he murmured.
Riza eyed him as she did so. She hadn't expected to see him back. Roy motioned for her to turn so he could see her injured side. He peeled away the patch with such a gentle touch. His anger from before was gone and his eyes looked regretful.
"You're right, this isn't going to work if I act like that," he murmured.
"No, it won't." Riza hissed as his hands pressed the alcohol swab against her injury.
"Sorry," he murmured. It was a loaded apology, referring to the sudden sharp pain from the cleaning alcohol, and his behaviour. "You're right, of course," he chuckled humourlessly. "As always. I was being a fool."
Riza bit her lip as pain shot in her side. "It doesn't mean I don't appreciate your concern," she bit out as the alcohol felt like fire against her injured skin.
"I know," he stated, taking a short break. Riza appreciated it and took it as an opportunity to get her breath back. "I don't know I…" Roy swallowed. "Every time I see you hurt, I just lose it. I hate it, but only because it frustrates you, because you're right – I'm holding you back and preventing you from doing your job. That's something I never want to do."
Riza nodded, glad he'd seen sense at least. Roy moved behind her and poured a cup of boiling water. He lifted the needle from the kit and placed it in the cup, sterilising the needle.
"Just like old times," he commented and Riza smiled. They'd patched each other up before like this, but not for a long time, and not on this level. Being in the military and being in the war they'd picked up some medic skills, and Riza was glad. She really didn't feel like going to the hospital like this.
"Just like old times," Riza agreed. "I'm glad you've seen sense."
Roy huffed a laugh. "Sorry for being an ass."
"Apology accepted." Riza smiled to herself. "Respectively, don't do it again."
"If I do, I give permission for you to shoot me."
"Noted," she smiled dryly. Riza winced as the needle pierced her skin. She tried to keep her pained gasps and winces controlled, but sometimes she couldn't. As soon as Roy announced he was finished her body sagged in relief. Hands were placed on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles against her skin.
"Come on," he murmured. "Let's get you comfortable." Roy helped her stand. It was a struggle to stand properly because of the pain in her side, but Roy grasped her elbow and assisted her walking across to her couch. Riza didn't need it, but she gave in to it for a moment. It was nice to be comforted in such a way. They couldn't do it any other time, so she allowed herself it just this once.
In a surprise, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she lay back in her couch. Riza was eased backwards onto Roy's chest, her body in between his legs are they lay back together. He pulled the throw across her body once she shivered in the cool apartment air.
"Get some rest," he murmured. "I won't be going anywhere."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Riza asked, unable to help herself.
Roy chuckled, his breath skating across her cheek and her ear. His hands rubbed up her arms. "Get some sleep. It's fine, Riza."
She closed her eyes and drifted off. Riza was glad she'd gotten that off her chest and was glad they could talk about things like this and it wouldn't create a rift between them. At the end of the day, they were both terrified of losing each other, however in a professional capacity, that was the reality of things. They both knew this, but fear had a funny way of altering one's actions when faced with a terrifying situation. Riza could have died tonight, but she didn't because she was good enough. She wasn't indestructible, she knew, but she was good and confident in her abilities. Roy knew this too, but he'd seen her almost being stabbed after she'd charged in front of him to protect him from being hurt. In the shock, Riza would have probably done the same.
Allowing herself to succumb to the comfort he always provided her so effortlessly, Riza relaxed and let the day slip away from her. They were both alive and ready to live another day. That's all that mattered. They still had to get to the top, after all.
