Roy was standing stock still staring vaguely at nothing. Riza was sure that she had shock and horror reflected on her own face, but Roy looked like he had seen a ghost. His breathing had quickened almost infinitesimally, and now he was just standing there, almost panting for breath, face pale and rather clammy-looking.

Riza thought it was possible the enormity of the situation just hadn't fully hit her yet. She hadn't known Stark was alive. And he was. And worse, he was standing right here in front of her. As a State Alchemist.

But it was also possible she was just better at keeping it together in public than Roy was. His anger could get the best of him in a way hers rarely did.

His anger, and something else. The terrifying blankness that was starting to creep up behind his eyes would spread if she wasn't careful. She recognized it, because she felt the same way sometimes. As far as she knew, most of those that had come back from Ishval did.

Kimblee hadn't. Riza suppressed a violent shudder, remembering that she was in public and holding onto that like she would a weapon. She wouldn't allow herself to get caught up in their shared trauma, because Roy was already floating away, and he needed her to ground him.

And that grounded her, like it always had. She wouldn't waste any more time standing here in front of Stark, both her and Roy slipping slowly away into their own heads. She was going to save him, and by doing so would save herself.

Riza gripped Roy firmly by the elbow, harder than she ordinarily would have. She knew from experience that the pressure would help him come back to himself - it would give him something external to focus on. Sure enough, she felt him twitch slightly under her hand. That was a good sign.

"Nice to meet you." The words tasted like ash in her mouth, and Riza was experienced at saying one thing and meaning another to people like this, but this was somehow harder. She reminded herself that this was for Roy, and she pushed through. "Unfortunately, the Colonel has business to attend to before the dinner. We must go."

Without waiting for a response, she tugged on Roy's elbow and spun away, half-pulling him with her across the room. She knew that she had been blunt - in fact, she'd been downright rude - but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

As she left, she heard Major Armstrong's disapproving chuff of breath. "Really! I'm…. Lieutenant Hawkeye is never so…abrasive, she and the Colonel really must have urgent business! I will apologize on their behalf!"

Stark's deceptively quiet voice, sinewy and (at least to Riza's ears) sinister, answered him. "Not to worry, Major. I knew them both when they were quite young. There is no such thing as rudeness between old friends."

This time, Riza couldn't suppress the shiver that shook her from head to toe. She hoped briefly that Armstrong hadn't seen it, and then she was dragging Roy bodily into the swirling crowd of people and they were out of sight and earshot.

Almost unconsciously, Riza breathed a small sigh of relief. But she didn't relax entirely, and she knew she wouldn't as long as Stark was in the same room as she was. 'Old friends…' She wasn't sure if she wanted to scream, or hide, or run back across the room and beat Stark senseless with whatever weapons she could find.

She wished she had her gun. She wouldn't have used it, of course - she had better control than that. But being separated from a weapon made her feel small, and young, and defenseless, even though she knew that she was no such thing.

She knew she needed to check on Roy. He didn't have panic attacks very often, not anymore, but he…he could. There was definitely a chance he could make a scene at this party, without even being aware enough to stop it, and it would be Riza's job to clean up the mess.

Or to stop it from happening in the first place.

Riza dragged Roy towards a relatively abandoned-looking corner, hopefully out of sight from anyone who might recognize them. She hoped Major Armstrong would believe their lie about urgent business, or at least cover for them if he didn't. If he tried to follow them…if he brought Stark….

"Roy-" Riza gasped, grabbing both of his arms. She knew that if anyone overheard her calling him Roy instead of Colonel, they might be suspicious. But she didn't care and she couldn't help it, not when he looked like this.

He didn't even look at her, his eyes still fixed on some point in the middle distance. She gave him a small shake, and slowly, his head swiveled towards her.

"What is it?" he asked. His voice was small, soft around the edges. Almost slurred. But she was still so happy to hear it.

"Are you alright? You-"

"I'm alright," he whispered distantly.

Riza ran her hands up and down his arms. She knew he wasn't cold, just panicked and angry, but he was acting cold, and it made her want to rub some warmth back into him. Rub some life back into him. She hadn't expected how badly she wanted to draw him into her arms, and she didn't think she'd ever resented keeping their relationship a secret so much.

"You aren't acting very alright," Riza said. She was trying to keep her voice light, but she knew she sounded very strained. "I know that was a horrible surprise, I'm…I'm still…."

"I'll be alright," he whispered again. "I just…."

He trailed off again, staring at nothing.

"Will you be alright for the dinner?" Riza asked. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

Roy let out a small, shuddering breath, and seemed to draw a core of strength into himself. He stood up a little straighter.

"I'll be alright," he said again. Honestly, he still sounded small and scared and not very convincing, but he was maybe a little steadier than before. Some of the color had started to return to his pale cheeks. If he could keep acting like this, Riza believed they could make it through the dinner, at least. People might think that he was sick, but that was manageable. It was much easier to explain away an illness or pain from an old injury than a violent panic attack brought on by one of the new State Alchemists, who they technically couldn't prove had done anything.

"Alright," Riza said, giving him a smile that hopefully didn't look as forced as it felt. "Let's go to dinner."

Roy fidgeted in his seat, trying not to stare in the direction of Stark. Thankfully, he and Riza hadn't been seated next to him. At least, Roy thought he was thankful. Part of him wanted to keep an eye on Stark, in case he…pulled a gun, or exploded a few high-ranking officials, or something, and that was harder to do if he wasn't directly next to the man.

And yet, Roy knew there was no way he could make it through the dinner if he had to sit next to that man. It was for the best that he and Riza were far, far away. Besides, this way, they could talk if they had to.

All of the guests were seated at one long table, and whoever had made the seating arrangements had put in an effort not to cluster the highest-ranking officials all together. By chance, Roy and Riza weren't near Grumman or the Armstrongs either, and he was grateful for that too.

He knew he was barely holding it together. He'd told Riza that he would be alright for the dinner, which meant that he simply had to be, but each passing second seemed to make it harder. Stark was there, in the same room, about to receive his silver watch and access to far too much power.

He had to be plotting something. Why wait until now? There had been plenty of chances to become a State Alchemist under the old regime, and Bradley would undoubtedly have given Stark free rein. Surely under Grumman, Stark wouldn't be able to get away with quite as much. It seemed foolish to wait until after the Promised Day, and that meant that there was a piece of the puzzle that Roy hadn't seen yet.

He had to stop this. He was thinking in circles, and it was counterproductive - doubly so because he had no proof. All he had was a connection from Stark's long-distant past and a deep instinctual dislike of the man. That was never going to be enough to derail the appointment, at least not now.

He had to calm down. Roy could feel himself teetering on the edge of something, whether a panic attack or a public denouncement or a full-fledged dissociative episode, he wasn't sure. But if he didn't calm down fast, something very bad was going to happen.

And, with timing so good it almost seemed comical, a glass of wine was set in front of Roy. He grabbed it and drained it in a few quick swallows. The head rush almost made him feel better, although something about the taste of the wine made him feel almost immediately a bit nauseous.

"Roy!" Riza hissed. "That…that was for the toast! You weren't supposed to drink it!"
Roy raised a hand to flag down a waiter - he would just get a second glass. But Riza grabbed his hand and pulled it under the table.

"No," she whispered. "No more wine. You drank that so fast you're already looking flushed. You can't get drunk here, it's…."

Roy slowly turned to look at her - his mind was still feeling soft and slushy, and he knew it wasn't from the wine. He'd just wanted…he'd wanted to feel something, even if it was just drunk instead of this. He didn't have the words to explain that to Riza, though - the connection between his mouth and his brain didn't seem to be working so well yet. But she seemed to understand, somehow, and her face softened.

"I know," she said softly. "I really do understand. I don't like it either."

She seemed to be resisting the urge to give his back a comforting rub or put her arm around his shoulders. Roy wished she could do that. Physical contact helped.

But he didn't want her to be anxious or upset because of him, so he worked hard to drag himself back together.

"I just…." He trailed off. Riza had sounded like she was right next to him, of course, but his own voice sounded tinny and far away to his own ears, like he was speaking from the end of a tunnel. It was distracting and uncomfortable. Roy shook his head slightly - talking might still be too hard.

Roy felt a hand on his knee. It felt strange and risky - this public physical contact, proof that they were in a relationship - but no one was paying any attention to them. He tried to focus on that, and not on anything else, and Riza left her hand there as the party continued on around them.

After some amount of time - it was hard for Roy to track exactly how much - a plate of food was set down in front of him. A few weeks ago, Roy had received a card in the mail listing all the meal options, and he had been supposed to check one off and mail it back. Right now, he couldn't remember what he had selected, let alone what any of the other options had been. It looked like some sort of chicken, covered in sauce.

Roy didn't want to eat it. He didn't want to eat anything. His stomach was still tipping uncertainly, and as much as he wanted to call it the wine, he knew that wasn't true. And he could wait for it to settle as long as he wanted, but as long as Stark was at the other end of the table, he wasn't going to eat a bite.

Roy clenched his hand convulsively around the silverware that had been set down in front of him, just to feel like he was doing something. His fingers didn't seem to want to close, and he realized with a dim sort of horror that they were shaking. Stark had gotten under his skin, and if he looked at Roy, he would surely know it.

That wasn't fair. This should have been Roy and Riza's night, their chance to finally celebrate the good they'd done during the Promised Day. This should have been fun. At the very worst, it should have been boring. It wasn't supposed to be like this - a ghost from their past appearing out of thin air and proving that everything they'd worked for would crumble away again.

Roy was sure he was going to throw up then, but after a moment of breathing the feeling of nausea passed. The off-centered horror didn't, and Roy could hear the conversations swirling around and above his head, but he couldn't participate. All he could do was sit there, staring at his never-to-be-touched chicken, and try to hold on.

Roy was…not doing well. Riza felt off-balance herself, and she had to stop herself from jumping every time someone dropped a fork or laughed too loudly. But at least she was grounded, and in control, and not staring straight ahead into nothingness.

Roy had promised that he'd be alright. That meant that he wasn't going to have a panic attack, or make another obvious scene at the dinner. Riza had guessed that he would be distant, but this was worrying her, and that just made it harder to keep her own emotions in check.

Having her hand on his knee helped. She wasn't sure if it was mostly helping him or her, but no one appeared to have noticed, and she left it there. Occasionally, she rubbed her hand back and forth, and he would look at her. So he was still with her, at least a little.

She could also tell that he was starting to get nauseous. She doubted that anyone else at the dinner could - they didn't know Roy like she did. She could see by the creases at the corner of his eyes, the uncertain way he swallowed, even his carefully upright posture. So far, he'd left his meal untouched, and Riza doubted that he would eat a bite all night. Riza didn't feel very hungry herself, but she'd forced a few bites down and had moved her food around enough to make it look like she'd eaten.

Roy probably wouldn't even be able to manage that.

Eventually, after what seemed like an almost horrifying amount of time, Riza's nearly-full plate was whisked away by a waiter. She knew there would be dessert coming - the dinner wasn't really over yet.

But before dessert could be brought out, Grumman stood up from the head of the table.

"I'd like to have a toast," Grumman announced. "For the first members of the new state alchemy program."

Riza realized vaguely that Grumman was looking kind of nervous. He wasn't trembling, exactly, but he looked somewhat unsteady, distracted. In a way, that helped to ground Riza. She and Roy had a problem, yes, but that was just one small puzzle piece of this party - and of the new Amestris. There were things going on around her that Riza didn't know about. She wasn't the only person at this party who was struggling. And that meant it wasn't the end of the world.

"This new round of State Alchemists - the first under our new government - prove that Amestris still has the capacity to grow, to change for the better. Just three short months after we all thought our country might be destroyed, we are already creating programs that benefit the citizens of Amestris."

There was a pause, and Grumman, one hand clutching a glass of wine, gestured for everyone to stand. Riza realized a new glass had been set in front of her when her plate of food had been removed, and she grabbed it. At least she didn't have to worry about Roy drinking this one, she figured. He was almost certainly too sick.

Riza got to her feet, and heard the scraping of chairs as everyone around her did as well.

She looked down. Everyone except Roy.

He was still sitting at the table, and had made no move to grab his wine. In fact, there was nothing about his expression or posture to indicate that he had even realized that he was supposed to be participating in a toast. He didn't seem to have noticed that Riza's hand had left his leg.

Riza looked around quickly, and realized he was the only one not already standing. She felt an irrational surge of anger towards him - she needed him right now, and he couldn't be there - that quickly softened into genuine worry. Once this dinner was over, she was going to pull him aside and really get to the bottom of what was wrong. She would make up some excuse and force him to go home, if that's what it took.

But right now, she just needed to get him upright. Trying to be as subtle as she could, she reached down and tugged at his arm. At first, he didn't even seem to notice, but she tugged at him again and he slowly came alive. Blinking, he rose unsteadily to his feet, leaving the wine glass behind.

This time, all Riza felt was concern. She had no idea how Roy had managed to slip this far away without her noticing, but she was starting to think that she really would have to take him home after this.

Gently, she tapped his hand, motioning towards his wine glass with her head. He blinked, eyes drifting towards her, and finally focused on the glass.

Almost as one, the entire room raised their glasses - with Roy trailing a second or two behind. Riza took a polite sip of her wine, ignoring the rest of the crowd to focus on Roy and hope that he didn't risk drinking his.

He didn't. In fact, he didn't even appear to know that there was anything in his glass at all. Somewhere along the line, his hands had started to shake, and the wine was slopping dangerously around his glass. Just as Riza was beginning to worry that he would spill it, he set the glass down on the table. She could tell that it was a little harder than he'd intended, and he looked back up at her. As he found her face, his eyes narrowed, and he reeled back a little, then blinked and found her again.

Riza gave him a tiny nod, and as everyone around them began to take their seats, she touched his leg beneath the table and guided him down. As he sat, he winced again, squinting away from the crystal glass and the gilded decorations.

Now, Riza recognized the symptoms. Roy was acting like he had a migraine coming on. He'd struggled with migraines ever since regaining his vision after the Promised Day. At first, they'd been almost unmanageable - they occurred frequently, with little warning, and they were impossible for him to function through.

Now, a few months later, Roy was doing a lot better. He would mostly only get a migraine if he had really overstrained his eyes, and he usually had enough warning where they could get him home before the pain became too much for him to bear.

This one had come faster than normal, and seemed more intense, but that wasn't that surprising. Riza knew from experience over the last three months that they could be exacerbated by stress.

Roy blinked again, squeezing his eyes shut for a little longer this time, and put one shaking hand on the table for balance. It was all Riza could do not to put her own hand over his, and she resisted the urge to simply put her head down on the table and scream.

Riza's mostly full glass of wine was pushed gently to the side, and a dessert plate was set down in front of her. It was some sort of spongy, yellow cake, topped with fresh fruit. Normally, it was the sort of thing Riza would enjoy, but it looked nauseating when she was almost sick with worry over Roy.

A plate was set in front of Roy as well. For a long few moments, he stared blankly at it, like he wasn't sure what it was. Then, suddenly, he turned to Riza, eyes still half-closed but face tense with worry.

"This isn't right," he muttered.

"What?"

"Stark…this isn't right. He must be planning something. Why else would he be here? He could have become a State Alchemist at any time. Any time."

"Roy, what?" Riza hissed. She wasn't sure what he was talking about, and even though he was using a horrible, flat whisper, she was still worried about them being overheard.

"If he wanted to be a State Alchemist, he should have done it before now. Kimblee was. There was no reason not to. There must be some reason…he's planning something."

"Roy-"

"I know he is." Roy managed to slit his eyes open to glare at Riza.

There was a familiar intensity in Roy's voice. Truthfully, when Roy got like this, he was not often wrong. Riza didn't know why she believed him. She never could have justified it to someone else. She probably should have put a stop to it. Told him that Stark was fine, that nothing would happen, that he was safe. Instead, she found herself nodding.

"I believe you," she said.

Roy still wasn't able to open his eyes all the way, but his face shone with an intense sort of gratitude.

"There's nothing we can do without proof though," Riza continued. "This isn't the right time to make unfounded accusations. We need to be careful."
Roy nodded obediently.

"One of us should see if we can get into his rooms," she said. "That will be…dangerous. I'm not sure what would happen if anyone caught us, and Stark finding out that we were there could put us at even greater risk. The other one can keep watch. It'll probably involve distracting some party guests, and making sure no one realizes what we are up to."

"Alright," Roy said.

"I can tell you don't feel very well," Riza said delicately. It was the first time either of them had mentioned the obvious migraine, and Roy grimaced. "So I am willing to do the more unpleasant job of distracting the other guests while you sneak into his room."

For the first time since they'd seen Stark, a few of the tense lines in Roy's face relaxed. "Thank you," he whispered.

Riza swallowed a giggle and nodded primly. "You're very welcome. For you, I will make this sacrifice."

Roy looked vaguely overcome. He swallowed heavily and mouthed "thank you" again, then looked down at his cake again.

"I'll try to sneak away after dinner," he whispered, still fixed on the cake. "When…when no one's watching."

"Good," Riza said. "Try…try to drink some water before then. Maybe it'll help." Sometimes, making sure he was properly hydrated could alleviate the worst symptoms of the migraine. Of course, sometimes, it made him so nauseous he threw up.

"I'll try," Roy mumbled to the cake. Hopefully, he would be able to tell if the water would help or not. Hopefully, it would help, and hopefully, he would end up feeling a little better. Riza didn't know what Stark was up to, or what kind of proof Roy would find, but she did believe Roy. And if Stark did have something planned tonight, Roy wouldn't be able to do much about it in his current condition.