Febuwhump Day 8: No Anesthesia
Word Count: 1641
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating: T
Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Dr. Knox, Maes Hughes
Warning: Burns
Summary: Riza wants her back burned. Roy knows there has to be no suspicion. Knox thinks they're both crazy, but knows they'll do it with or without him. Hughes is unhappily along for the ride.
Notes: N/A

No Anesthesia

"You want me to what?!" Knox's voice rose, and Roy Mustang hurriedly shushed him.

"I just want you to be on standby, alright? Just… just as medical aide," Mustang said.

Knox leveled a look at him. "You know I'm a coroner, right? I'm not in the habit of dealing with the people who are still alive after you've burned them."

His words were harsh, and Roy winced at them, but he didn't refute them. "Please," he said. "Look, one way or another, we're doing this. If I don't help her, she'll find a way to do it without me, and that's even more dangerous. I have to help her, Knox." He swallowed. "I know enough to know she's going to need a lot of help afterwards too. We could really use your help. We could use the help of someone we can trust."

That gave Knox pause. But he wasn't through objecting. "But for stars' sake why?" Knox asked. "Why is she so adamant about burning her back?"

Mustang hesitated. "…you'll find out," he finally said. "That is, if you'll agree to help us."

Knox let out a sigh put a hand at the back of his neck. "You're going to do this either way, aren't you? Fine. Just let me know whatever the cover story is."

Mustang looked relieved, but he nodded. "We will."

It was hours later when Knox heard the sound of an explosion nearby. Even though the war was considered over, there were still pockets of Ishvalans here and there causing trouble, although they were quickly being dealt with. Soon all that would be left here in Ishval was an occupying force of Amestrians. Knox snorted. What a load of crock all of this was.

Although… he glanced in the direction the explosion had come from, not that he could see anything from inside the medical tent. That had been a lot closer than he had been expecting. He had to wonder if…

He shook his head and got back to work. Wondering didn't do anyone any good.

It was a few minutes later when he heard a jeep pull up, and the scrambling of voices and boots. Knox looked around. He was, at present, the only doctor here, even if he was a coroner. He'd have to do. The tent flap flipped open, and to what he later thought should have been no surprise, Mustang burst in. He had another man with him, a tall man, who looked incredibly angry, and between them was a small woman, blonde, hunched over and letting out little gasps of pain.

Mustang looked around wildly. "Knox!" he said, and none of the panic in his voice was feigned.

"What in the name of—" Knox began, although he was pretty sure he knew what was going on.

"Please!" Mustang said. "Help her!"

"Over here," he said, indicating one of the still cordoned off medical areas, one he had been preparing for this. "Put her on the bed."

The two men did as he said, and Knox got his first really good look at the woman and her injuries—and stopped cold.

On her back, covering it, was a large, intricate tattoo. Knox was no alchemist, but he recognized alchemy when he saw it. Moreover, he had seen Roy's gloves enough that he was pretty sure that this was the alchemy circle he used. Knox tensed. Just what was going on here?

The women whimpered in pain, one of the first sounds Knox had heard her make, and he pushed the rest of his questions to the back of his mind. Right now he had a living, breathing patient under his hands, and he aimed to keep her that way.

The burns had marred the tattoo, something he was realizing was the whole purpose of this. They went deep, burning past skin and well into muscle. Knox cursed.

"At least you were smart enough not to do her whole back like this!" he snapped out at Mustang.

"It was an Ishvalan attack, doctor," the taller man said. Knox glanced at him. The man said it so straightforwardly without a hint of a lie. "Hawkeye just got caught in the crossfire."

Knox looked back down at the woman, at Hawkeye. "Uh-huh," he said. "I'm sure that's what the autopsies of the Ishvalans will show too."

The burns were dirty from the sand, a wide-open path to infection. That would have to be dealt with. "Hey," he said to her. "I'm going to have to clean these. But I don't have an anesthesia, so you're going to have to bear with me, alright?"

Hawkeye nodded, cracking her eyes open. "Do… do what you have to," she said. "I'll… endure it…"

Knox got the uncomfortable feeling that she would.

Knox took a moment to assess the burns. These burns were bad, severe. She didn't appear to have any pain in the worst of them, which was a very concerning thing indeed. It meant that the burns were deep enough to burn nerves away, and that was a huge problem. Fortunately, that was not the majority of her burns, although the rest were still severe, second degree for sure. She really needed to be in a burn unit, but the burn unit had already packed up, and besides, with that tattoo, he understood why she wouldn't want to go there.

But treating burns like this was out of his league. Sure, he could identify them, and he knew what damage they'd cause, but that was different from treating them.

Well. He'd do the best he could.

"Alright. Here we go."

He started by pulling clothing away and debriding the wounds, something that caused the woman to cry out in great pain. Still, she grit her teeth, and bore it, doing her best, it seemed, to keep her screams to a minimum. Mustang was right there by her the whole time, and the other man was keeping watch. Knox kept a professional mindset, separating out her screams of pain from the work he was doing. He wished he had anesthesia for her, or at least a sedative, but all of that was gone now.

Still, he worked, debriding, cleaning, applying ointment, and setting her up with an IV for fluids. At some point she passed out, and for that Knox was grateful. He could hear other doctors arriving, but the other man sent them away.

Finally, Knox sat back, letting out a sigh. "Alright. I've done all I can for her. But what she needs is a burn unit. She's going to need special treatment—and probably skin grafts."

"Can you do it?" Mustang asked him.

Knox snapped his head over to him. "What do you mean, can I do it? I'm a coroner, Mustang, not a doctor and most definitely not a—" he cut himself off before he said "not a burn specialist" because, in a twisted, morbid way, he was. Just not in the way they were needing.

"You have to," Mustang said. "You have to continue to see her through this!"

"It's not my area!" he snapped back. "Find someone else!"

"We can't!" Mustang said, stepping closer. He gestured to her back. "We can't risk anyone seeing this. If it got out—then all of this would be completely pointless!"

Knox stared at him, then looked at the burned back of the unconscious young woman.

He threw down his towel.

"Fine," he said. "I'll see what I can do."

He managed to secure them passage on a medical train car that was leaving the next day. The rumors were already spreading, talking about how one last Ishvalan attack had seriously injured The Hawk's Eyes, and how The Flame Alchemist had taken care of it. Knox hadn't remembered there being any trouble from that area beforehand, but he had little doubt that whatever burned corpses were there, if a time of death could be determined, it would fit the window. He wasn't sure how Mustang had pulled that off, but there were enough bodies around that it shouldn't have been too hard, especially not with that tall guy, Maes Hughes hanging around.

The train ride was rough, every motion causing Hawkeye pain. Knox wished he had something to give the girl, but there was nothing. She just suffered as the train moved, sometimes letting out vocalizations of it, most of the time not. That honestly disturbed Knox just as much as the burns themselves.

It was all set up in Central when they got back. Mustang and Hughes had explained it to him. She would be getting a room of her own in the hospital as a hero in the Ishvalan campaign. But she would refuse to let anyone but Knox care for her back. It would be written off as a type of PTSD from the war, and gentle pressure put for it to be given into. He'd learn how to skin graph and would apply that to Hawkeye's burns. He would be the only one taking care of her, aside from a friend from the academy, Mustang, and Hughes.

It seemed like overkill to Knox, but then again, he knew the power that Mustang could wield, and he knew that the tattoo on that woman's back was connected. Mustang had started to tell him more, but Knox had cut him off, saying that the less he knew the better he was going to feel about the whole thing. He could see why she wanted it destroyed, and why they wanted to keep it a secret.

The train hit another bump, and Hawkeye let out a whimper. Knox sighed.

What a fine mess he had gotten himself tangled up in.

Something told him, this wasn't going to be the last favor Roy Mustang asked of him.

Hopefully next time, he'd have anesthesia.