Author's Note: Don't own FMA.
If you can't tell by the events, this takes place the evening when Roy and Riza check into the hospital emergency room. It doesn't technically fit into the storyline because Roy calls Maes to come. That said, this scene was actually what was originally in that section, so I thought it'd make a good deleted scene. Please read and review )
That first evening, with Riza finally asleep—really asleep—for the first time in weeks, Roy stared blankly at her, his stomach turning in anger The doctor's recent attempts at suturing the gash in the back of Riza's head had caused bleeding once again. For what seemed like the thousandth time, Riza's cornflower-yellow tresses were matted with drying blood.
Just before they left that little, decrepit tavern in that inconsequential town, Riza had first tried to wash the blood from her hair. From the barely muffled curses he could hear from the washroom, Roy presumed that she found this task rather difficult. After a solid hour of work, she emerged—the hair a few centimeters below her ears was dripping wet and hanging limply at her shoulders, the remainder of her head and hair tucked carefully beneath an oversized cap that only made her face seem smaller and more distressed than it already was.
Now, watching her sleep under the influence of drugs, tucked carefully into the hospital bed, Roy felt himself grow nauseated by how red the yellow stands of hair were, stained so deeply, blood red close to the base of her scalp that he thought he might never see her hair as blonde again.
Irritated, he went to the nurses' station and explained his predicament. A portly redheaded woman smiled warily and found a small bucket and clean rags, providing them and some gentle soap to the disgruntled alchemist.
It was a slow, tedious process. As gently as he could, Roy used the rag to scrub away the bits of dried blood from Riza's hair. Inwardly, Roy was glad that she was asleep—ordinarily this sort of behavior would never be allowed. But as he gingerly lifted her head from the pillow, he was glad to have the opportunity to do this, to care for her so fully. Even more than that, he was glad to remove the caked red blood from her head—had the opportunity not arisen, his nightmares would forever be filled with a panicked, injured Riza, whose hair heavily dripped of dark, red blood.