Chapter 20

Riza regarded the last of the tape from the living room before dropping it into the bin. Roy wanted to keep the one in the hall until he wouldn't need it anymore; until he could see with his own eyes how they tore it off.

Tiny notches rippled beneath her fingers – notches that had told him the distance between them and the candle the marker had aimed at. There had even been a small circle around the radio as not to run it over. No matter how impulsive Roy could be, he was a brilliant man.

Her hand wandered to the ring over her chest.

He was her brilliant man.

She let the tape fall into the bin when there was a knock on the front door. Voices were heard, discussing. She hurried before they found the doorbell.

"Hello, Lieutenant." Alphonse beamed up a smile. It brightened even more when Hayate curiously joined them.

"See? I told you we'd find her here," Edward said, grinning. "Colonel not there?"

"He's asleep; did you need something from him?" she asked, stepping aside to bid them in. Al bowed his head, entering on his single crutch. She had to call Hayate back until he had made it safely into the kitchen.

"It's a bit early to be asleep, don't you think?" Edward scoffed if mildly.

"Is he okay?" Al asked. He sank into a chair with a small huff. Eagerly, he put his crutch aside to pat his thighs. Hayate climbed on with his front paws, making both quite happy.

Riza smiled at the scene. "It's all sort of catching up to him," she said over the tap as she filled the kettle. "The time in hospital wasn't exactly restful…"

"But with you keeping guard here now, he can finally sleep," Ed agreed. She hummed positive without turning, hiding her smile. She could feel the ring where she had hidden its slight bulge in the cup of her bra. Now. As if she had left since the day of her release.

The stovetop clicked when she ignited it.

"Something smells delicious – and in the entrance of candlewax," Al excitedly reported. Even in his shoes, he shuffled to feel how the floorboards reacted to his weight.

"You didn't have a power cut, right?" Ed sounded concerned.

"No," Riza chuckled. Then digressed. "But we just ate dinner. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?" she asked while presenting the different kinds of tea they had. Which were admittedly not too few; they had combined their households after all. "I brought all my perishables the other day," she explained when being met with big eyes. "I haven't really gotten to go home," she sighed. And in no way unhappily.

The brothers exchanged a glance.

"Will you have to go back for check-ups?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"No, I'm ready to go home," Al boasted. He kept his little tea egg in his hands until the water would be ready, feeling the holey metal. "Winry is making apple pie!"

"She might not be now," Ed corrected, "but she definitely will once we're there. Den's gonna be out of his head with joy."

"And Granny! I can't wait to hug her," Al raved. "I haven't hugged her since I was ten…" he muttered. His gaze went to the tea egg in his hands. Then he looked up. His eyes were so innocent; so guilty yet so eager, Riza could only stare at them for another moment.

She let out a breath, pushing off the counter.

"If I were her, I know I'd find it worth the wait." She picked up Hayate to set him on Al's lap, then put her arm around his shoulders. His smile returned instantly. As if the prospect of a hug had left him needing one immediately. A cure she was more than glad to give. "Do you know what you'll say to her once you're there?"

Al made a thoughtful face. Then he nodded sternly. "That I'm home." He smiled up at her.

"Are you going to live there with them?" Riza went back to the stove. She took the kettle off before it could whistle and disturb Roy. Al watched with delight how his tea egg sank, then floated, infusing the hot water. "I'm sure Winry will be more than happy if you do." She glanced up at Edward.

He blushed, averting his gaze.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like we have a house or anything, otherwise we wouldn't, I mean I don't mind, it's just that when she's— I don't know, we'll think of something…" he blabbed, scratching the back of his reddening neck. Riza pursed her lips to keep her amusement at bay. "And anyway, what's with you and not going back to your place? Is he, like, ordering you around off duty?" Ed shot back without thinking. She raised a brow. He looked as if he had prepared that comeback. He must have been thinking about her suspicion of his crush on Winry a lot.

Still, retorting to Riza must have sounded cooler in his head, regret making its way up his cheeks in a bright red colour. He mumbled something that might have become apologetic had she not spoken up.

"As you said, it's my task to keep watch." It was a lot easier to sound nonchalant when the one asking wasn't a knowing Havoc but madly blushing sixteen-year-old. "And Jean still hasn't fully regained his mobility, so the Colonel chose to wait with his own treatment."

"Do you think something will go wrong?"

"It's unlikely, but you can never know. He doesn't want to take the risk."

"No, I don't mean Havoc's legs, I mean the Colonel's eyes," Ed said. It made Riza hesitate shortly where she had been pouring crackers into a bowl. She hid the momentary shaking of her hand by turning away, pretending to be wanting her own tea despite it being too hot to drink yet. "Dr Marcoh knows his alchemy, that much I don't doubt, but the Colonel's blindness isn't exactly a wound. The Truth took his sight," he pointed out. "It's not like alchemy could 'heal' my leg, if you know what I mean – it's still in the portal—"

Riza nearly dropped her cup, hissing when the hot liquid overflowed onto her hand. The cup clattered in the sink. She let water run over her burning skin. Her pupils had shrunk. Her heartbeat droned in her ears.

"Bother!"

"I'm sorry," Ed quickly backpaddled. "I thought you knew – and it's not like it's set in stone or anything," he gestured wildly to wave it all off. "It was just a thought. I'm no doctor – if Dr Marcoh believes it's possible, it will be, I'm sure," he rushed. His grimace worsened when she turned off the tap but remained where she was. He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't mean to upset you with that." He reached out a hand but didn't dare. She was stiff, not even breathing. "It's just that I was wondering what you'd do if this took even longer; you really look like you could use a break, is all I'm trying to say."

"Yeah, maybe take a vacation, now that things have calmed down," Al cautiously agreed.

"Or take a page from that lazy Colonel's book," Ed attempted to lighten the mood.

Her shoulders sank. Inhaling quietly but deeply, Riza ironed out her face. She was still white as a sheet when she turned.

"I'm fine, don't worry," she said, offering a hardly convincing smile. "And I can't exactly stand guard when I'm not here," she added. She didn't want a vacation, she wanted to erase the last two minutes from her memory. Leave the nerve-wrecking helplessness for when Dr Marcoh actually – possibly – didn't succeed.

The Truth, that cursed bringer of misery. And why did she have to believe what people said so easily? She had violently pushed it to the back of her mind until now, but in her heart, she knew that the battle against Lust had scarred her more than she cared to admit. She had developed a sizable weakness.

"Are you sure?" Ed still had his hands up as if fearing she would keel over. Just like in hospital. Riza scolded herself inwardly for losing her composure like that in front of children – again.

"Yes, please don't worry." Her smile was more honest now in the face of having to soothe the boys. As with Roy, it gave her strength to be there for others. She knew that the second the two would leave, she would be back in Roy's arms. She feared being left alone with only herself.

As if to answer her unspoken pleas, the bedroom door down the hall opened.

Riza took the kitchen towel to fleetly dry her hands. When she had crossed the kitchen however to help, he was already there. With one hand, he held on to the doorframe. His hair was a mess – a mess she knew she was to blame for, considering their morning. He hadn't bothered telling him; dishevelled was amusingly cute.

"I dreamt something awful just now," Roy said. His eyes narrowed. He pulled a face. "Oh, you have to be kidding me. He's actually here, isn't he?"

"How do you even know that?!" Edward burst angrily. Roy gave a tut. The outburst brightened his mood though, something that only riled Ed up more. "Aw, were you worried?" He taunted, making a vein bulge on Roy's temple. "You got some kinda sensor for whenever you gotta be especially annoying?" He propped his arm against the wall, not noticing to be copying Roy.

"Nah, it's just that you could use a shower – you reek of arrogance," Roy coolly retorted.

"At least I don't reek of laziness, Mister I-need-a-nap-like-a-baby."

"Says the one pretending to be an adult as he makes up stupid names."

It was like a tennis match of passing on irritation.

When their blows escalated into limb and eye territory, Riza took Roy's arm to cut off his next retort. Havoc could pull that off on a good day if he was careful enough, but not Edward. He was no longer in the military; he wouldn't have to restrain himself in front of a superior officer anymore, no matter how little he already had in the past.

That, and Riza was still trying to forget the more than likely theory about Roy's blindness.

"We're having tea," she told Roy, gently guiding him to his chair.

"Will I have to face Fullmetal?" Roy grumbled.

"Only verbally," she sighed.

"Oh, wait, he's only Halfmetal now, isn't he?" He grinned up at her. She answered with a noise of mild disapproval. She took her cup from the sink, dried it off and handed it to him. He merely sniffed it once, letting it sink. "You can drink your own tea, Lieutenant."

"It's fine, I'll make another," she brushed it off. The boys exchanged puzzled glances. It made Roy smirk. None of the cups he owned looked different – unlike hers in her boxes where nothing matched. He liked impressing people with his observance skills, especially when it came to details about Riza. He had prepared her tea often enough to know the way she liked it.

"I insist," he said. She hesitated, but accepted.

The gas on the stovetop hissed where she reignited it.

He wasn't directing his gaze towards her but she could still feel his thoughts lingering with her. Like a graspable fog he sent her way. He didn't have to be able to see to know that something was off. Which was precisely why she pretended that everything was fine. And part of the reason why she offered the boys a ride to the station.

She got out of the car to help Alphonse while Edward took their bags.

"Thanks, Lieutenant, but you really didn't have to do that for us," he said.

"It's no trouble. Besides, your train leaves at seven, doesn't it? You'll be running late." She gave a smile when the brothers grinned sheepishly. "The Colonel insisted we take his car – he knows what it's like not to be able to run anywhere now."

"Old habits," Al giggled.

"We'd have taken our time; there's no rush." Ed shrugged his bag over his shoulder.

"You should save your strength for Resembool," Riza reminded, letting go when Al was stable on his crutch. "There's no paved road after all." That, and she knew they would want to hurry to get to the Rockbell house; to get home.

They didn't have to wait for long, the train approaching not five minutes later. Riza was stunned when Al went for a last hug. Ed meanwhile pretended to be busy with their baggage, glancing over his shoulder unsuspiciously, embarrassedly to where Riza readily returned the hug.

She waved back until their arms out the window were merely tiny specks, the train disappearing shortly after as it headed east. She let her hand sink slowly. Her chest expanded in a mute sigh. Their journey really was over. They were going home. It felt strange to watch them leave for good instead of on another adventure, but at the same time, Riza found her smile still in place.

It fell when she returned to the car, a man saluting her where he stood next to it. A man in uniform.

Roy sightlessly stared at the ceiling. Why ever had he bought such an outrageously uncomfortable couch? The springs were boring into his back, the cushions sagging and bulging in all the wrong places. Still, he didn't get up. He hadn't for what must have been over an hour now.

They had been summoned.

Riza had told him about the soldier by the car; had read out General Grumman's letter. Fuhrer Grumman's – as he had promoted himself. An invitation, she called it. Roy called it a summons. He wasn't sure why; he trusted Grumman, but he had also seen power corrupting too many people over the past.

That, and he was still the leader of the coup d'état that Grumman had cleverly pretended to have stayed out of.

Riza didn't seem half as concerned. She was convinced it was merely the chat Grumman had asked for when they had still been in hospital. Congratulations, possibly, or maybe even a promotion. Roy wished he could believe her.

He also wished he knew what had been bothering her so severely since the Elric's visit, but he hadn't asked. He was busy brooding.

The radio blabbed on in the background, unheeded. He turned it up when they mentioned Ishval, but his mind wandered nonetheless. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

They couldn't be promoting him; he was still blind. They wouldn't summon him just to arrest him – not when he had been sitting around his flat for so long. Switching painkillers with poison, breaking into his place to shoot him or any other way to get rid of him would have been easier. It didn't help in the slightest that the meeting point was in the west wing – the military police department. Most of Headquarters was still in ashes, but surely, there must have been some office or conference room in the east wing left to talk…?

If talking was what the Fuhrer wanted.

Roy growled to himself. He turned over onto his side, arm limply hanging down. Had he not been blind, he might have just grabbed Riza and driven her out of town. He couldn't drag her into this; not again, not after all the pain and trauma she had suffered following him. Not after their last trip to Central Headquarters had broken her.

He slammed his hand on the coffee table. A blade flashed before his inner eye, blood squirting from her neck. The passionate melody of a single violin snapped out of existence when he turned off the radio, but the images stayed. Her breathless gasp, her eyes losing their light. The limp thud when she had collapsed.

He scrambled off the couch. His toes found the tape in the hall, hurriedly tracing along. The blood kept flowing; kept pooling around her motionless body. He blinked and blinked but she kept dying.

"Colonel…?" Riza drowsily asked when he all but plunged onto the bed. Crawling hastily, Roy somewhat bumped into her curled up form. Within the matter of seconds, Riza found herself gathered up in his arms. He squeezed her to him, confusing her. His chest heaved, heart hammering.

Her chest too rose and fell. Her heart was beating. It felt too good to be true.

With a long, slightly shuddering sigh, Roy placed her between his knees. Releasing her legs, he wound both arms around her torso. Only when his chin hooked onto the top of her head did his shoulders sink. The racing of his pulse gradually slowed.

"What's wrong?" Riza asked. Her eyes were small, only half awake. Her lashes fluttered against his neck, something he couldn't have been more grateful for. He gave another squeeze.

"I had to… recreate," he confessed quietly. "I saw you in that cursed underground chamber, unmoving…"

"But I was alive," she countered. "When you held me," she moved her arms out of the way, allowing her heartbeat to transfer directly to his, "I was already bettering," she sleepily muttered. He exhaled strongly through his nose, smiling weakly.

"Bettering…" His scoff was tainted with bitterness. She frowned sorrily.

A minute ticked by. She let it, giving him the time he needed. Only when his clutch loosened did she move again.

She lifted a hand. It trailed up his chest, coiling below his arm and around his back. The other one took the mirrored path, then went higher, past his collar bone and over his shoulder to his nape, straddled fingers lacing into his hair.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked. He suddenly felt more tired than she had sounded a moment ago, adrenaline leaving his body to sag.

"I'm recreating the way I would've liked it to be," Riza whispered. The warmth of her breath left his neck when she leant back. The hand behind his head gently pulled, dipping him down towards her face. Their noses touched, then their foreheads.

"Haven't I been smothering you enough?"

"Never enough," she breathed. Her upper lip ticked his. It left a tingle, even when she kissed him then. A shiver of pleasure and relief rushed down his spine. His arms regained their strength, tightening in response to the way she kept his face close to hers. She kissed him again, slowly, appreciatively. As if savouring a juicy fruit with a tender suckle.

Their lips peeled away with a light smack.

"Talk about fraternisation, Lieutenant Hawkeye," Roy murmured.

"Sir, we've slept together six times since the Promised Day. I'm wearing your wedding ring. I really don't think this is tipping the balance."

"You've been keeping count?" His tone lit up. As did his eyes. The blood was gone. All he saw was her face, wearing a beautiful pout. She averted her gaze. He could feel her do so by the way her hair brushed his nose, helping him adapt the image of his mind's eye. Warmth was rising to her cheeks. "Hey!" he laughed when she wound out of his arms, embarrassed. He fetched her back under mild protests. The half-hearted struggles lessened when she found herself too tired to properly fight back. So she hid in his shirt instead. "And I was under the impression that you weren't the hopelessly romantic part of our relationship."

"I'm not…" There was the pout, unmistakably. It made a smirk curl onto his lips.

"So then you're only keeping count of the dirty—"

"Colonel, no."

"I mean, it's not like I'm against it – in fact, I'd welcome a suggestion or two to spice things up, if you—"

"No—"

"Like those times in hospital when you mercilessly—"

"I told you," Riza's hand landed over his mouth, "not to talk about that. Not to me and not to anyone." Slowly, cautiously released him. "Just… stop thinking about it; forget the whole thing."

"Tell me what happened that night I came home drunk with you," Roy switched topics. He could hear her breath get stuck for an instant. She knew exactly what he meant. And too immediately for nothing significant to have gone down. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, nothing," Riza grumbled. She turned away again, but he was still holding her to him.

"Nothing happened or I did nothing wrong?" he insisted. Her pout must have been intensifying – her next mumble was entirely incomprehensible. Roy made sure his grip was secure before allowing his smirk to show. "Or was it rather that I… did something right?" She stiffened. "And it's too kinky for you to admit?"

"Don't say that," Riza shoved him away by his face. "Honestly, where do you get those expressions? You sound like a leering teenager." She used his snickering to slip out of his arms and back under she sheets. Roy's grin softened but never left.

"Don't go." He prodded the roll she had made of herself. "This is martial neglection."

Riza laughed out loud. It made his grin broaden again.

Shuffling closer, Roy crossed his arms over her side. Head resting atop comfortably, he turned to face her. She was smiling; he could feel it.

The blanket rustled when she wound out her arm. "I'm afraid I'm getting a little too used to this…" Riza softly said. He closed his eyes when her freed hand came to caress his hair. "That I like getting used to it – living with you, going to bed together, cuddling you whenever I want." Roy's insides made a fuzzy loop at the word 'cuddle' from her mouth. As much as she shunned talking about sex, she brought up their displays of affection even less often.

Like the forbidden three words – previously forbidden, Roy gratefully reminded himself – it hurt more to pronounce them than keep them locked up.

"I'm surprised – you're the last person I'd have suspected to be mellowed by marriage."

"Keep saying it, please."

"Marriage?"

"Yes," Riza breathed. He smiled fondly. "I might not possess a single ounce of romance in my body," her palm lingered on his jaw, "but I sure am hopeless." He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the heel of her thumb. "Come to bed?"

"So we can cuddle?"

"Get out." She defiantly bundled herself up again, making him chuckle. Her flank shook lightly under his arms, and he waited until she had ceased clandestinely laughing as not to miss even a second of it.

The moment he was alone in the bathroom, the summons returned to him. The Fuhrer. The grand hall.

Roy stiffly rinsed his mouth from toothpaste foam, then washed his face. He didn't dry his hands. Instead, he stared down at them, seeing nothing. The soaked bandages stuck to his skin. He took them off.

He would go there, that much was indisputable.

He dropped the bandages in the bin, then dried his hands as if they had never been pierced; never scarred with a transmutation circle of just about the most lethal alchemy. Or hurt like the hellfire he had himself to blame for. He wouldn't let them see. He would go there, and he would show nobody even a single sign of weakness. Not a single one apart from the most obvious…

He dropped his face into his hands. With the tips of his fingers, he rubbed his eyes.

How did she do it, Roy wondered when finally tiptoeing back into the bedroom. For whenever they were alone together, she granted him not solely the gift of love, but of distraction. She really did outbalance his temper and the internal tempests that would sweep calm and reason out the door.

Having arrived under the sheets, Roy didn't hesitate to seek out her warmth. She had unfurled the blanket around her, giving access to that inviting, very huggable body he loved so dearly. Nosing his way past her hair, he planted a long kiss on her nape. Riza sighed, perhaps already in her sleep, he didn't know.

What he did know was that he would have to be selfish once again. Because there was no way he would survive the coming day without her by his side.