The Days of Us
3. 戦場, battlefield
It's been days. Not a lot of days (perhaps, only just a few – time seems to fleet by, now that all he sees is darkness), but it has been enough days for the chaos to finally settle and for everything to fall back into its routine. He knows that it has been enough days to send for one Lieutenant Havoc in the east, and enough days for Lieutenant Hawkeye to go in and come back out of surgery and be unconscious for close to some forty odd hours. But now that everything is back on its way to being normal, all he can do is impatiently wait for her to wake up.
It's early evening, the sun has yet to completely set, but he doesn't know that (though he has been promised his sight, he can't yet see) and neither does she (because she's still unconscious, feverish from what is supposed to be the last of her blood transfusions). He's been waiting for hours, and he knows, has known, that she should be waking up soon, so he sits by her bedside, his thumb drawing endless circles into her palm — and when she finally, finally, awakens, he is beginning to drift off to sleep himself.
Her eyes slowly flutter open, her vision still bleary with exhaustion after she's awoken. There is a blurred figure by her bedside, donned in hospital garb, his chin tucked into his chest, his hand a tight clasp under hers. It's the colonel, she knows (even in the dim light of the setting sun through her window, she knows) and she wants to tell him to go back to bed and sleep where he won't wake up with a neck ache, but she has yet to find her voice again. A dry rasp leaves her throat when she tries to say his name (not quite his name, but his title; the two have become interchangeable in their years together) but he awakens at the sound of it, his head instantly snapping back up.
"Lieutenant," he breathes in relief. "You're awake...you're okay."
"Colonel..." Her voice is a croak, barely above a whisper. "You should be in bed. You need your rest too."
He squeezes her hand and intertwines their fingers and she can feel his bandages rub against the flesh of her palm. It is a simple gesture, really, but he has never before realized how protective it is; he takes the time to read the callouses on her fingertips like a story — commits them to memory so that he may one day tell them back to her.
A moment, and then, "Hawkeye...Riza...are you really okay?"
She nods. Though he can't see it, she knows he understands it, feels it in the way her fingers tighten around his, and she asks him the same. "And you...are you all right, sir?"
And he chuckles because she really should be worrying about him (because even though he's blind, he isn't bleeding), but he can't blame her for it — the feeling is mutual after all. "Yeah...now that I know you're awake, now that I know that you're okay...I'll be just fine."
She can hear the honesty in his words, can see the truthfulness of it in his clouded eyes, and though he really shouldn't be worrying about her either, she's glad — glad that he's all right, glad that she's all right, glad that they're still together even after all this time. They've come a long way, but they're not yet half way there.
"There's still a lot of work to be done," she begins. "Central, and all of Amestris is in disarray, and the grounds outside are a mess that we'll have to clean up. I can't have you slacking off, sir."
He mutters, "Damn Elrics, always leaving us to clean up their messes." But before he knows it, he's laughing, and he's not so sure why (maybe it's because so surreal that they're both still alive, or because they're still together, or maybe he thinks it's funny how well she knows him, he's not quite sure). And it's strange to think that he's still blind because he can somehow read the quizzical look on her features without even seeing her.
"Colonel?"
He clasps his hand on top of hers holding his – her hand held between his wounded palms, her life held between his scars and his demons.
Finally, "I don't think you have anything to worry about. I have a wonderful and very competent lieutenant to take care of me."
And she wants to shake her head at him, chide him for all of his joking, but he just sounds so happy — and she can't (after all, it's a miracle that they're both still alive, still together). But it's all right, because she'll find a plenty of opportunities to rebuke him later on.
"Of course, sir," she says instead. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
And they know that the road ahead of them is long, but for now, they are content to just dwell in the present. The battle is over, and they have finally won.
The battle is finally over. But the real challenge has just begun.
This was actually sitting on my computer for a long time. I don't know why it took me so long to post this, but here it is! It's not my favorite, but oh well.
Shoutouts to Firaga Productions, Minerva Aemilius, and my anonymous reviewer, Guest, for the reviews! Thanks a bunch! And if you enjoyed this chapter, be sure to shoot a review my way!
