The blood and semen had been washed off the boy's body, though it had taken a while and much prompting. Riza touched his hair lightly, watching the boy scrub at a patch of skin that had been cleaned already, as if he was trying to clean the dirt he couldn't see, the dirtiness of what had happened, what he had almost done, and what had been done to him. She looked away from the raw red patch, hoping Al's body could stay mainly unblemished from this incident, no marks to remind him of what had happened.
Her uniform was completely soaked by this point, sticking to her uncomfortably. Alphonse had been in the tub for hours now, occasionally clinging to her, drenching her with water every time he did so, though he managed to keep his tears right above her breasts. She didn't mind, allowing him to do almost anything, just wanting to make sure he didn't hurt himself and be there for him.
It just hurt her so badly to see the boy they had assumed was a man sobbing in the bathtub, reminding her of the child he obviously was. This was partly her fault; treating a boy like a man only ever led to pain. They hadn't even treated Edward like this.
And she wasn't even sure if anyone had learned from their sins. Alphonse Elric was a child, and deserved love and comfort just as much as any human could need.
Perhaps even some adults could use that attention.
A couple hours later, Alphonse didn't struggle when she helped him out of the bathtub, wrapping his shaking, pale body in a towel. She didn't dare leave him, even for a moment, so she took off her military jacket, wrapping him in it as soon as she got him dry, wishing he didn't look so dwarfed in the blue coat.
She walked him to her car, holding his hand, not caring about the stares she accrued on the way, just focusing all her attention on the ten-year-old and getting him safely in the car. She set him in the backseat, making sure he was completely comfortable before slouching in the front seat, running her fingers through her hair.
It took a couple of deep breaths before she could turn the key and start up the car. "Alphonse," she said gently, knowing she'd get no reaction from the boy. "I'm going to take you to my flat now, and we'll find a place for you to stay soon enough." His expected silence was still disconcerting.
She drove silently, parking at the small apartment complex. She sat in the car for a few moments, listening to Al's shallow breathing and small whimpers. It wasn't long before the small noises grated on her, making her feel uneasy to the point she couldn't take it anymore. Riza opened the glove box, taking out a small book with her subordinates' addresses and phone numbers before starting up the car again, making her way to a pay phone. She quickly got out of the car and slammed the door behind her, not noticing Al's cringe at the loud noise.
She dialed the number in the book awkwardly, tapping her feet with every ring. Eventually, she heard a meek voice answer the phone.
"Sergeant Cain Fury?" she asked.
"Major Riza Hawkeye?" she heard in return.
She sighed, not sure how to say this. "Sergeant," she said in a low tone. "I need your help." Riza swallowed hard, leaning against the glass wall, staring back at the car where Al was still shivering in her coat. "I need to go take care of some stuff," she continued vaguely. "But I need you to take care of something else."
Riza listened to the crackle of static for a while, Fury paused on the other line, not sure what to say. Eventually she heard him take a deep breath. "Major, I can't do anything for you if I don't know what's going on," he told her gently, innately picking up on the small tremors in her voice most people wouldn't overlook.
"Al's really hurt," Riza said tersely, trying for a clinical tone, free of her emotions, but failing. "I really don't want to leave him home alone tonight, and I have to go take care of some things for work." She watched her fingers twitch against the glass sporadically, knowing the arm holding the reciever was shaking as well, but she was too numb to feel it trembling against her ear.
"Oh," Fury said, not asking more, picking up subtle cues telling him she didn't really want to finish the story. "Are you going to drop him off at my dorm or do you want me to come pick him up?"
"You don't have a car, do you?" Riza asked, unclasping her hair and straightening it, messy from all the times Al had clung to her and she had run her fingers through it.
"No," Fury admitted. "I could borrow one, though..."
Riza smiled, leaning her forehead against the telephone box, glad she was right when she had called Fury of all people. She couldn't trust Havoc and everyone else in the office would be too distant for what the boy needed. "That's okay," she told him after a few moments. "I'll drive him over."
"I'm glad to help," Fury said truthfully.
Riza smiled to herself, stuffing her shaking hand in the pockets of her uniform. "I'll be there soon," she told him, still watching Al from the booth. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Fury said seriously. "I'll be here when you get here."
Riza nodded, about to hang up, but she paused. "I need new clothes for him, too," she told Fury, not caring how odd that sounded. "Do you have just a large shirt he could wear?"
Fury pondered for a few seconds on the odd request, but didn't say anything besides, "Sure."
Riza smiled, holding back the tears anyone else would have let flow. "I'll be there soon," she told him, hanging the phone up, listening to the click of the hook echo for a few moments.
It only took her a couple of minutes to compose herself, steadying her hands and smiling softly as she walked back to the car.
Slipping into the front seat, she said, "Al, I changed my mind." She shifted the rear-view mirror so she could see the boy clearly as she spoke. "I'm going to let you stay with Sergeant Fury for a while. He has kittens..."
Al looked up, wiping tears away from his eyes. "I like kittens," he said hoarsely. Riza nodded, looking back at the boy. "He has two. He had to get special paperwork so he could have animals in his dorms."
"What are their names?" Al managed, sniffling into his knees, grasping at the blue jacket around him.
"Jeremy and Lily," Riza told him, starting up the car so she could get him to the dorms. She kept the idle banter up, glad to hear Al talking to her. "Jeremy's a calico cat and he's a sweet little boy. Lily on the other hand is a--"
Riza was cut off by Al telling her, "Male calicos are really rare."
She smiled to the rear-view mirror. "Really?" she asked him, wishing she could see his eyes. It was easier to keep up her facade of calm while Al was chattering like this, rather than sniffling in the back seat, just clasping at her blue coat.
"Calico cats are almost always female," the boy told her in a weak voice. "And the males that are calico normally can't have babies though sometimes they can. Sometimes they're really sickly, too..."
Riza grinned. "Well, Jeremy's most definitely orange, white, and black, and he's not sickly, but he's a lovable little kitten."
"How old is he?" Al asked.
"They're both about ten weeks old," Riza told him. "Still really young."
Al was quiet for the rest of the ride, still clasping at the blue jacket again, but not crying as hard.
When they got to the dorms, Riza pulled the book containing all her subordinates' numbers and addresses again, checking Fury's room number. She looked back at Al, sighing lightly when she saw the boy dead asleep, her jacket covering him as well as he could manage, holding it so hard that even in his sleep his knuckles were white.
She got out of the front seat, shutting her door quietly, careful not to disturb Al this tune. She walked around to the back seat, picking him up gently, doing her best not to wake the boy as she did so. When she pulled him out of the car and shut the door, however, he stirred lightly, holding onto her dress shirt.
"Mommy," he gasped quietly.
Riza couldn't tell if he was asleep or half asleep, but those words hit her hard, reminding her that this was the boy she had sworn to herself was an adult. She stroked his hair gently, whispering comforting words to him, not correcting him, but not wanting to blatantly place her in his life as a mother figure.
She shifted the boy after a few moments, finding his weight awkward as she walked through the concrete halls, passing the doors all the same. Alphonse sighed lightly in her arms again, mumbling. "Love you, mommy..."
She paused, taking a deep breath, controlling herself, not wanting to lose her composure there. Eventually she got to the 800 building and knocked lightly on Fury's door.
The man answered the door immediately, so quickly Riza knew he had been waiting right by the door for her to knock. She smiled down on the short man, holding Al close to her. He moved immediately, letting her come inside.
"Do you want to put him on the sofa?" he asked quietly, looking at the sleeping boy.
She smiled and shook her head. "Do you have an extra bed?"
"Yeah, I do," he said. "Let me get the cats off of it; they've claimed it as their own."
"That's alright," she countered. "He said he really wanted to hold Jeremy and Lily. Waking up with them might be good for him."
If Fury found anything odd about the situation, he didn't say anything, just smiled and went to get a shirt and a pair of boxers for Al. "Here," he said, handing the clothes to Riza. "You said you didn't have any clothes for him."
Riza looked down at the clothes, knowing they'd be too big for the boy, even though Fury was small. She took her jacket from Alphonse, walking into Fury's second bedroom, glad the man had requested a private suite. She stroked his hair lightly, watching his brow furrow in sleep, apparently having a bad dream. As she sat him up to pull the shirt on, his eyes fluttered open and he watched her, holding up his arms when she began to clothe him. She watched his passive demeanor; he was allowing her to do whatever she wanted with his body, but when she touched him too much, he'd squirm away. She eventually managed to get the boxers on him without making the boy uncomfortable and put Jeremy in his lap, letting the boy pet the kitten absentmindedly.
She left the bedroom and looked at Fury. "Just make sure he's okay?" she said. "Maybe talk to him a little... I just don't want to leave him alone."
Fury nodded, looking into the bedroom, Lily pawing at the boy's chest while he pet Jeremy. Fury noticed the tears in the corners of Al's eyes and stepped into the bedroom, sitting at the desk, making sure he kept an eye on the 10-year-old while he did his work.
Riza drove home calmly, her fingers drumming against her steering wheel. She didn't try to stop the twitches, knowing that it would be a futile attempt, at least until she got home; managing to keep her foot from idly tapping the gas pedal was hard enough. Once she parked her car and got inside, she stripped from her military uniform, looking at the messy clothes for a moment, before pulling on a pair of boxers and a men's undershirt, wandering to the kitchen to grab a couple of rags and some wood polish.
She went over to her walnut dresser, starting to obsessively polish the only real piece of furniture in her flat, trying to stop the shaking and to allow her to finally think.
However, she didn't want to think, especially when it hit her.
Fuhrer Roy Mustang, the man she idolized and protected, had done this to a 10-year-old boy.
She didn't know the whole story, she told herself repeatedly, rubbing over her finger prints and Black Hayate's nose prints, her tension alleviated a bit with every smudge removed.
It was by the time the bookshelf had been alphabetized, the kitchen reorganized and cleaned, the entire bathroom cleaned, and Black Hayate washed that Riza finally calmed down, collapsing on her bed, crying softly. She couldn't let Al see her like this, right now. She couldn't let anyone see her like this, really. Even soft tears like these were too much to share. After all, she was supposed to be the strong one.
She rolled onto her side, dragging the covers with her, pulling them up to her chest, shivering lightly, but not bothering to turn the heat on in the house. She wished she could get more information, know at least why Roy had done what he did.
After pondering that for a few moments, however, her gut clenched, remembering what had bothered her so much before: the clinical way she'd treated Al, just like any other soldier. She did her best to will the bile accumulating in her throat back down.
She knew she was partially at fault for this.
She co-signed the orders in clinical legalese, placing Al with the man who would...
Roy Mustang who...
She pulled her knees to her chest, doubling the blanket over, shaking lightly. She didn't know how long it took for her to realize she could help the situation, which, naturally, alleviated some of her shaking and allowed her to swallow down the burning fluids trapped in her throat.
While she had stuck herself to his moral, she had never trusted Roy. Even though she was ranked below him, she was the one who made sure he did his paperwork, didn't sleep on the job, and came to functions dressed properly.
If she couldn't trust him to do his job, she just couldn't trust him with Al again. And she'd do her finest to make sure the man she idolized stayed as far away as possible from the young boy.
For both of their sakes.