Sicktember Day 25: Sick at School/Work
Word Count: 869
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating:
Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Team Mustang
Warning: Throwing up (not heavily described)
Summary: The Team is trapped at work and, unfortunately, Riza Hawkeye is sick.
Notes:

Sick at School/Work

The storm raged outside, rain and wind beating ferociously against the windows, thunder crashing and rumbling overhead, lightning sending blinding flashes of light through the sky only milliseconds from each other. It was a wild, dangerous storm, too dangerous to go out in, to drive in, even for emergency workers to manage in.

And it was the reason Riza Hawkeye was still at work.

She leaned over and puked out what felt like all of her insides into the garbage can for the fifth time. She didn't know how she even had anything left to throw up, but her body seemed to find it from somewhere. She retched in the can, riding it out, until, with a last heave, she finished and flopped back onto the office couch with a groan.

"Easy, Lieutenant." She felt Mustang's hands easing her into a better position, and she cracked her eyes open. He was looking down at her with a sympathetic look. "Feeling any better?"

"No," she said, and she sounded rather pitiful, even to herself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Falman retrieve the garbage can. When she was better, she'd have to thank him. She shivered. "I wanna be home."

Mustang's face softened. "I know," he said. "I should have sent you home earlier. I should have sent us all home earlier. But we're stuck here. Just rest the best you can, alright? We'll take care of you."

Riza nodded, and he stood from the edge of the couch, tucking the blanket back around her. He moved off, and Riza laid there, shivering under the blanket, watching the office passively. She felt miserable. Of course the stomach bug that had been going around would hit her. Of course it would hit her on a day when it was storming too badly to go home. Of course she would have to spend the night at work, absolutely miserable. She couldn't even go to the infirmary. It was overrun with patients with the stomach bug as well.

She had tried to stay upright and working for as long as she could, but it hadn't been long until she was too sick for that. Mustang had practically ordered her to the couch, and she had acquiesced. At first, she had tried to stay in uniform and keep at least some dignity, but that quickly went out the window. Now she was comfortable as she could get and still be decent in the office. Her guns were on her desk (except for the one tucked under the couch cushion) and her boots were off. Even her uniform jacket and waist cape were off, hung on her chair. She had kept them on, even using the waist cape to cover herself as a blanket, until Breda had noticed her shivering and Mustang had sent him off to find some blankets for her.

Actually, all of them were taking care of her. Breda had gotten her blankets, Fuery had gotten her some tea and water—which she didn't always keep down—Havoc had fetched washcloths from somewhere for her fever, and Falman had gotten her a garbage can and was taking care of it. They were all attentive to her, checking on her and making sure that she was alright. She appreciated it more than she could say.

Roy, though, he knew what she needed the most.

The blankets, the water, the washcloths, it was all good. But he made sure that she was never alone. He would come back and check on her, staying in her eyesight for a bit, talking to her, or just walking by to make sure that she knew she wasn't forgotten. He made sure that the men checked on her as well, didn't stop them from helping to tend to her. He knew how much loneliness could sting her and how comforting it was to have someone else there to take care of her. He remembered how she would always have to take care of herself as a child, how lonely she had confessed that was, and he made sure that she never felt alone when she was sick.

"Riza?"

"Hm?"

Riza cracked her eyes open, not entirely sure when they had closed, and blearily looked up at Roy. He had something in his hand. He smiled at her.

"There you are," he said. "Here. Take this. Its medicine."

She blinked at him. "How…?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about that. Just see if you can keep it down."

She nodded, and, with his help, sat up enough to take the pills he had in his hand, and sip a little tea. In only a few minutes, her eyes felt heavy, and Riza felt herself drifting off to sleep, even as Roy adjusted the washcloth on her head. She still felt awful, and she was sure that she would be awake shortly to throw up again, or because her fever was too high and they were trying to get her to take another dose of medicine. But for now, miserable as she felt, at least she knew that she was surrounded by people who would care for her.

And that comforted her more than anything else.