Rose Thomas pulled on a pair of non-latex gloves and carefully squeezed a dollop of cream onto the tip of her finger. The burns on her patient's forehead hadn't blistered much and were already starting to peel and heal over, but his hands were more severe. Doctor Marcoh didn't think fine motor function would be restricted or impede his ability to practice alchemy, but the scarring would be acute there. It would be several more weeks before Roy Mustang would have full use of his hands. However, Rose didn't think it was these burns that kept his spirits low.

The same day Mister Mustang had woken from his sedation, an ophthalmologist had examined his eyes and determined he suffered from a retinal burn. There would be no surgery, and nothing could be done but wait to see if the tissue repaired itself. Since the diagnosis and uncertain prognosis, the young man had sunk into a depression. He'd wanted to return home to Central City, but the investigation of the blast was ongoing, and he wouldn't be released until the military police wrapped up the case. Rose wasn't an expert in criminal investigative matters, but she hated to see him so sad.

He tolerated her ministrations, but with a frown. She could tell he'd rather apply the soothing cream to his own skin but lacked the sight to do so properly. According to the hospital switchboard operator, Mister Mustang received more telephone calls than any other patient, and the young woman on the other end of the line could be rather terse at times. Her identity and relationship to the former Flame Alchemist was the subject of typical workplace gossip. Rose had no interest in the chattering. Despite his attractiveness, men weren't her cup of tea, and her heart bled for the young alchemist who only ever brightened when his bedside phone rang. Even the weekly visits from his aunt and adoptive mother couldn't bring him out of his gloom.

Outside the walls of the hospital, the world chugged on. A handful of State Alchemists had resigned their commissions, and a recruitment campaign had started to replace them. Outdated benefits such as a higher rank upon certification were reinstated, and in times of peace, alchemists with certain specialties were no longer required to live near a specific military post. News surrounding the explosion that had taken Mister Mustang's sight was also a popular topic. Specific reports as to the cause behind it were sketchy, but the tabloids proclaimed it had been an anti-military mad man who'd been expelled from the university years before. So far, only one arrest had been made. Lieutenant Zolf Kimblee was taken into custody when Mustang had implicated him as Archer's accomplice, but so far only Archer was being charged with the actual explosion and assault. Kimblee's statements hadn't been released to the public, though, and since Archer perished in his own flames, the media scrambled for any bits of information the military let slip.

It hadn't occurred to her that her position as Mister Mustang's day nurse would be of interest to anyone until a journalist approached her as she left the hospital one afternoon. The man had been polite at first and didn't seem at all put off by her refusal to speak on the matter of his recovery. However, on the third day he sat in obnoxious waiting, Rose responded with a truculence that shocked him into rude manipulations. The man asked what sort of duties her job entailed, and whether or not she saw to the handsome young alchemist's more intimate needs. After the unpleasant encounter, Rose reported the man to security, and she was afforded a military escort to her vehicle.

For Mister Mustang's sake, as well as her own, she hoped the investigation would be over soon.

He hadn't wanted Riza to come to East City for Kimblee's trial and hearing regarding the explosion, but she wouldn't be kept away. He'd done his best to explain to her that Doctor Hawkeye would be referenced in the court proceedings and how he was related to Archer to begin with. Her tone over the phone had been impartial, but Roy knew she was curious about her father's military career.

Riza wasn't allowed in the patient ward, but Chris assured him she waited in the lobby on the morning he was meant to appear in court. His aunt helped him into his dress uniform for the last time and fussed with his collar and decorations.

"Well, kid, that's the best I can do. Riza was always better at this kind of thing." Chris took his elbow and led him down the hallway. "I'm sure she'll adjust anything that needs fixing."

"I don't care about any of it, Aunt Chris. I wish I didn't have to wear the uniform at all," he grumbled as they stepped into an elevator.

"Policy is policy. You aren't officially free of it until this mess is squared away."

"I just hope Major Renault was right, and the whole circus won't last more than two days."

"That's an attorney's arrogance for you, kid, but I can't imagine anything will be drawn out. I saw on the news that they found some of Doctor Hawkeye's notes in Kimblee's possession, and from what I've heard about Archer, he was off the rails completely by the time he blew himself up. Seems pretty airtight."

"Has Riza been following the news? I think it's shitty she has to watch her dad's name drawn out in public like this."

Chris laughed. "Of course she's seen the news. If anything, I think she has a newfound respect for her father. It's become quite clear he left the military for good reason." A low bell chimed, and Roy felt a rush of air against his face as the elevator doors slid open. Chris led him through what felt like a crowd. "Ah, there she is," she mumbled.

"Roy!" Riza's voice made him smile, and he couldn't deny that the familiar way she clutched his arm was the best thing that had happened to him since he'd come into contact with Frank Archer.

"I'll see about the car," Chris said, and Roy felt her disappear from his side.

Riza's arms encircled his chest, and she hugged him tightly against her. "I fucking hate this military hospital," he heard her say.

Roy returned her embrace and was glad the bulk of the bandages on his hands had been removed. The skin was still sensitive and tight, but he'd take the feel of her hair in his fingers over the protective gauze any day of the week. "It won't be long now. Riza, I'm-"

"You better not be about to apologize for any of this. I haven't seen you in damn near two months, and the last thing I want to talk about is misplaced guilt."

He couldn't help his laugh. "Alright, alright. We'll save my pity party for another day." Roy slid his hands from her back, over her shoulders, and to her cheeks. His thumb brushed over her lips, and he felt the smile on them. "Thank you for coming." He leaned in to kiss her and would've missed her mouth if her hand hadn't reached up and gently guided his aim to the right.

"I would never ever not be here for you, Roy." She pulled back from him and took his elbow. "Come on, your aunt is waving from outside. It's time to go."

The portions of the hearing Roy was present for were exceedingly boring. He couldn't see anything, and the sound of voices droning on and on made him wish he could simply give his testimony and walk out. In the end, his statement took less than ten minutes, and he was free to leave after the break for lunch. Riza stuck by his side for the remainder of the afternoon until it was time for him to return to his room at the hospital. No amount of cajoling would get her past the sergeant on staff duty. The woman sheepishly apologized, but rules were rules.

Kimblee's guilty verdict was returned the following afternoon, and Roy was pretty sure Riza's cheeks were damp when she left East City to return home until his discharge. She claimed she had something important to attend to, and it couldn't wait. His Aunt Chris had nothing to say on the subject and only insisted a lady had a right to a few secrets every now and then.

"I don't expect to visit you here again, kid," she said from her perch on the corner of his bed. "The military will want to wrap everything up soon and send you off on your way."

"I hope so. This lockdown business is getting pretty old. I just want to go home." He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Riza will be here to take you back to Central City. I've got some business that needs handling." He could hear the smirk in her voice. "And I'm sure you'd rather her company on the train ride over mine."

"Aunt Chris, don't be ri-"

"You can't hide it, kid. I know you miss her, and my feelings aren't hurt. I've had enough man-pain to last me through the next life, to be honest." Roy felt her fingers ruffle his short hair. "I'm going to head out tonight. Give me a call to let me know when you'll be on your way. Don't leave a lady hanging, okay?"

He smiled. "I promise I'll call the minute they give me the order."

"Good deal." Chris kissed his forehead lightly. "I'll see you at home, Roy." He heard the door click shut behind her and instantly felt the unwelcome solitude.

Roy's final orders didn't come until two days later. A captain visited his room, and he signed a number of papers, with the assistance of his day-nurse, detailing his discharge. Doctor Marcoh kept him for an additional twenty-four hours just so the ophthalmologist could have a final peek into his eyes. Nothing had changed, of course, but the eventual return of Roy's vision wasn't ruled out. A referral to an excellent doctor in Central City was given to him, along with a packet containing information on after-care he wouldn't be able to read. Without Riza's presence for the dump of information, he didn't think he'd have been quite so confident. He suspected he'd need her help to handle more than a few things in the immediate future.

When they were finally seated on the train bound for home, she sighed and leaned into him. "I'm glad to finally have you back."

"It'll be great to be back. Even if it's like… this."

Riza shifted next to him. "Did I mention that I graduated early?"

"You didn't! I'm sorry I missed it." He was thoughtful for a moment. "You must have really put away some hours to manage that."

She squeezed his arm. "It was worth the struggle, Roy, and you didn't miss a thing. My diploma was mailed to me."

"Why did you opt out of the graduation ceremony after working so hard?"

"I had something else to do that day." She shrugged. "Bradley offered me the teaching position as well. I start in the fall. Apparently, they're rather desperate as old Mister Schneider retired unexpectedly. Lucky for me, I guess."

"Are you happy?"

"I will be now that you're coming home. I can barely say how much I've missed you, Roy."

He felt her lips press into the fabric of his shirt at his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer into his side.

"I don't think I could face any of this without you, Riza."

"You don't ever have to."

In spite of all the challenges ahead, Roy smiled. "I'm dying to know what was more important to you than graduation."

"Well," her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt, "I took a caregiver course."

"A what?"

"A class for people who live with and care for the blind. I just wanted to be prepared for when you came home, and there was only one schedule available for the summer. So I made a judgement call."

"You skipped your graduation for me?"

He felt her touch on his chin. "It was more important to me than walking across a stage."

"Riza-"

"I love you, Roy," she interrupted fiercely, "I don't want you to feel insecure or out of place at home. I wanted to be ready. I've minimized the clutter on the floor and paced everything out experimentally. Of course, you'll want to count your own steps, but I've done the test driving already so you won't trip on anything unexpected."

He could feel her eyes on him but had no words to properly express his gratitude for her thoughtfulness. Instead of fumbling over poorly constructed sentences, he hid his face in her neck and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

Roy could hear the excited thumping of Hayate's tail against the hardwood floors of the main hallway.

"Stay," Riza commanded. She patted his arm. "I've been working with him on being underfoot. Tomorrow I'll teach you how to give him the right commands. He's not really a service dog, but at the very least he won't trip you." She paused. "I'm afraid he's taken to sleeping in the bed with me. I hope that's okay because I don't know that I have the heart to lock him out of the bedroom."

Roy laughed. "It's fine. I don't ever want to sleep alone again."

With a soft voice, she warned him of the staircase and how many steps until the top landing. Riza placed his hand on her shoulder and helped him form a natural pace to count the steps to their bedroom. She guided him first to the bed, then the adjacent bathroom.

"And the shower is directly ahead, the sink is to your right, and the toilet just beyond that."

Silently, he counted paces as he learned the layout of their private space.

"Above the sink is a shelf, and your toothbrush will always be on the left with the toothpaste next to it."

"None of that minty stuff, right?"

Riza chuckled. "None of the minty stuff, I promise. Do you want a shower before bed or no? It's pretty late, and you have to be exhausted."

"I think I'd rather wait until morning. I kind of want to establish a routine right away, and mornings are better."

"I agree." She gently cupped his elbow. "Do you want to find your own way back to the bed? Your side is the one exposed to the rest of the room, and I've taken the wall side."

Roy nodded. "I think I've got it."

"I'm right behind you." With minimal awkwardness, he found his way to the side of the bed, counting even paces silently and trying to picture the room as he remembered it.

"Here," Riza took his hand, "let me help you to the closet, and you can feel where the dirty clothes go."

"I knew you had an agenda."

She laughed. "Now you'll have no excuses. Can't have you tripping over stray pants in the middle of the night." Divested of his travel worn clothes, Roy sank into the mattress. Riza curled into his side and hitched a bare leg over his hips. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better than okay, Riza. You are amazing, and I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"Are you kidding?" she scoffed. "You've put me back together after the deaths of both my parents, respectively, and for a long time, I asked myself what I'd done to deserve you!" She touched his cheek and turned his head to face her. Roy could feel her lips brush over his. "This is what we do, Roy. It's my turn to hold your hand until you're ready to let go, okay?"

He squeezed his blinded eyes closed and kissed her hungrily. Even though he couldn't see her, he'd committed to memory the map of her body long ago.