Sicktember Day 4: Headache/Migraine
Word Count: 1080
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating: K/G
Characters: Heymans Breda, Riza Hawkeye
Warning:
Summary: With all the stresses leading up to and on the Promised Day, is it any wonder Breda's head hurts?
Notes:

Headache/Migraine

Breda reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure if was all of the debris leftover in the air, the stress that hadn't really eased up but just transformed into something different, or some side effect of having his soul sucked out of his body and then stuffed back in, but he had a building headache that had been lurking at the back of his mind for quite some time now.

There was a lot to do. There was a lot to consider. He had managed to spin the public story in Mustang's favor, although he had to sacrifice Briggs to do that. The homunculi and their father (which was weird, he'd have questions about that to ask later) were defeated. Bradley was dead. Everyone was at the hospital. It was, on paper, a win.

But at the same time, there were so many problems still to deal with. Mustang was blind, his hands damaged. Hawkeye was half-dead, nearly having bled out, and the doctors were concerned about her recovery. Alphonse had his body back, but he was weak and there was major concern over his state. Edward had his arm back, but he was going to need surgery on it. Fuery and Breda himself had to worry about the consequences of them essentially disserting to go to Central. The government was in chaos.

And he was nursing a growing headache. Just what they needed.

Thoughts of what needed to be done swirled around in his head, each of them demanding more and more of his attention. Plans, possibilities, problems, and there was very little that was solid to build them on. There were too many possibilities, too many things that could be—too much to be considered.

It would have made his head hurt on a normal day.

He sat down heavily in a chair, rubbing his hand over his eyes. He had managed to snag some painkillers earlier, but they just didn't seem to be doing the trick. What he really needed was food, rest, and a chance to just relax. Only one of those seemed to be remotely likely.

"…Breda?"

His head snapped up, and he tried to suppress the wince that brought about. He looked over at the bed he was sitting next to. Hawkeye was looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Hey. Sorry, Riza. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to bother you."

"Where's the Colonel?"

That would be the first thing she would ask, even if her voice was breathy and weak. "They took him for work on his hands. He'll be back in a few hours."

She let out a silent breath, and for a moment, Breda thought he was off the hook. He should have known better, though. Even at her worst, Hawkeye still lived up to her reputation of having sharp eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"It's nothing," he said, trying to brush it off.

"…the colonel is the one who lost his sight, not me. What's wrong?"

She was determined, and to be honest, he didn't feel like fighting her on this. Breda finally let out his breath in a sigh. "It's just a headache, alright? Feels like it might turn into a migraine. But it's nothing to worry about. There's too much to do to let this slow me down."

She fixed him with a look that told him that she didn't approve, but she didn't say anything. Her hand moved and belatedly he realized that she was going for the nurse's cord. She pulled it, and he blinked at her. "Riza, what-?"

She didn't say anything, and Breda resigned himself to waiting to find out. Within moments, a nurse was there. It figured that they would respond quickly to her. She was a high-risk patient.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye? Did you need something?"

Hawkeye gestured towards him with a hand. "My friend has a migraine. Can he get something for it? And food? A bed too?"

The nurse frowned, and Breda opened his mouth to object, but didn't get the chance before the nurse was looking at him. Her eyes swept him over and, he didn't know what she saw, but she must have seen something that convinced her. She nodded. "I'll be right back."

Breda waited until the nurse left and then looked back at Riza. "You didn't have to do that. I told you, there's too much to do."

Riza let out a sigh, and Breda realized that it was part of the way she was expressing herself, as she couldn't shake her head at the moment. "You gotta function at your best. Can't now. Take care of yourself."

She was speaking in smaller sentence and phrases, probably to save strain on her neck. He wanted to argue with her but found that he both couldn't think of a good enough point, and that he had no desire to make her speak more than necessary. He fell silent and kept a hand over his eyes for the time being. His head was only growing worse, and so was any desire to do anything but nurse it.

By the time the nurse returned, his body had apparently decided to give up on fighting his headache and his fatigue. She gave him medicine, as well as tray of food and plenty of water. He ate, feeling more and more exhausted, as a bed was rolled into the room and set up. The nurse turned down the lights and told Breda to just leave the tray on the small two-drawer chest that was sitting nearby. He did, knowing Hawkeye was watching his every move. His head was pounding, and every movement made it feel worse. Still, he ate, knowing it was good for him, and put the tray on the chest. He stumbled towards the bed, everything catching up with him. Just getting on it made his head pound more, an he had to ease himself into laying down.

Once settled, he laid there, his head still hurting, pounding, but the promise of sleep on the horizon. Hopefully the food, the water, and the rest would help. Still, he couldn't go to sleep quite yet. He had one more thing to say.

"…Thanks, Hawkeye."

"…anytime."

He could hear the implied "Someone has to look after you stubborn men" in there, and he smiled to himself. With all of the chaos that was making his head hurt, at least that was still a stable point.