A/N: In honor of Veteran's Day have a WWII inspired reality where Roy is a British soldier and Riza is an American nurse. The battle talked about is part of the Allied Invasion of Sicily. I did my research beforehand so it should be relatively accurate, there is always room for error.

British Slang Translations:

Jerry=German soldier

Bloody= equivalent to the F word

Blast= damn

British Eighth Army Major Roy Mustang opened his eyes to darkness. He wondered how long he had been asleep. Obviously it was late at night because there was no sound at all. It was deadly quiet. Had the Island of Sicily been secured then? He couldn't remember a victory or a loss.

Images of the battlefield at Catania flashed in his mind. He shuddered at the memory of blood and gunfire. As he acclimated to being awake he noticed his situation was more than sleep. Had he been injured in the battle? He was on a stiff cot wearing simple bedclothes. In his arm was an I.V. drip and he could just smell bleach and antisceptic.

Feeling slightly startled at the revelation the young British officer tried to sit up. Both of his hands sceamed out in pain when he positioned them to push himself up and he relented. It was only then that he felt the pain of multiple gashes and wounds on both hands. He gingerly brought one to the other in this wretched blackness and felt multiple rows of stitches and bandages.

"What has happened to me?" He whispered in a deep resonant voice. The pain in his hands was worsening by the second.

"Oh, Major Mustang!" A femenine voice called out.

Roy turned to the sound and tried to blink. That was when he realized there were bandages over his eyes. He raised a hand slowly and felt soft gauze covering the bridge of his large sharp nose. Only then did he realize that the pain in his eyes wasn't from straining them to see in the darkness. They were sore and dry even under wraps.

"Where are we?" Roy asked in a polite tone. For the moment he would swallow the slight fear rising in him and learn what he could.

"I am Riza Hawkeye Head Nurse of the U.S. Seventh Army Hospital Unit." The voice began, "We are in Catania in a building converted into a hospital." Gentle hands pulled up into a sitting position with practiced ease.

"The Allies took Sicily?"

"Yes," Riza replied.

"Nurse, how long have I been unconcious?" Roy asked trying to get better bearings. He had begun to hear other noises: whispered voices, metal scraping on stone, papers shifting, someone sneezing, and the sound of the nurse beside him breathing.

"Three weeks in and out of it Major. It is August 27th." She supplied.

"What are the conditions of my injuries?" Roy asked again. If he didn't have bandages over his eyes he could see it for himself.

"Do you remember what happened last?" Riza answerd with a question of her own. The man shook his head. "A grenade exploded right in front of you. Your hands and eyes recieved the brunt of the explosion. You tried to sheild your face. Your hands took a lot of shrapnel and the doctor is worried about your vision returning. We will not be able to assess your vision for another week."

Roy swallowed dryly. A week before he would know if his vision was lost. That would be a long time for him to wait. Patience had never been a virtue in his arsenal so he could already see himself agonizing for seven days. "And my hands, will they heal completely?"

The man was intelligent enough to know that if his hands had been on the mend for three weeks already they should not be in as much pain as they were. It was like they were on fire constantly.

"Dr. Knox says there is a high risk for permanent nerve damage. While you may retain a good deal of feeling in your hands the dexterity will diminish." Riza's gentle voice was soft on his ears.

It was apparent that she had been a nurse for some time. The things she had seen were probably comparable to his own awful sights. Even though she were delivering what could be awful news her voice held a hopeful tone. She didn't sound like she pitied him at all and he was grateful for that.

He winced as the pain only increased.

"You should rest." Riza's voice turned concerned. Roy mused about the blandness of her American accent as he sighed.

"First can I get a drink of water?" His throat was so dry he could feel it closing up.

"Yes of course." Riza replied. There was a brief silence as she left his side. For a moment Roy was alone with his thoughts. While conversing wih the nurse he had been able to keep his mind focused on obtaining answers. Now that he had them he was stuck with the fear of what could be.

Lose my bloody eyesight? I will be discharged and sent home to be pitied and gaped at. I can not accept that fate. "Blast." He murmured angrily. Here he was fighting those blooming jerries to end the regime of Hitler and now he might be turned out due to injuries? It just did not sit well with him.

"Here we go Major," Riza said returning. "Cold water."

Roy absently lifted his hand to accept the drink. "Thank you." He said as she placed the tin cup against his sore hand. The cool metal felt good to his inflamed skin. She kept her fingers on the cup and though he tried his fingers remained stiff as he tried to grasp it.

After grimacing in pain he let the nurse bring the rim of the cup to his lips. He took a long swallow of the cool liquid. It had a strong mineral taste he didn't care for but he drank it anyways.

"Now get some rest. Your body needs time to heal." Riza said. Roy leaned back down onto the pillow trying to relax.

Roy awoke that evening to hear two voices talking above him. "Ah here he is now." It was a gruff American voice that grated on the ears. "Tell me how you feel son."

The Major had to remember that Americans used the term 'son' to assume authority over someone younger than them. "How do you suppose I feel?" Roy replied sarcastically. "I may have very well lost my eyesight and my fingers in one day."

"It's not going to be easy Major, and for your sake I pray it ain't that bad. I know lots a folks who've overcome their wartime injuries. It just takes time." Dr. Knox's voice took on a slightly softer edge.

Roy was silent as he pondered the word ain't it was unfamiliar to him.

"So far the only concern I have for you is that your hands are taking awful long to heal up. I suspect there is severe nerve damage. If some therapy doesn't help I don't know what will." Knox said.

Roy nodded his thanks. Suddenly his stomach growled and Knox chuckled. "I'll send the nurse with some dinner. As for your eyes, I can only wait to see if your vision is unharmed. We will start working your hands as soon as the stitches are gone. It shouldn't be more than two or three days."

"Understood Doctor." Roy replied.

"I have other patients to visit, but I'm here all night long." The American doctor offered. Roy smiled gratefully.

Footsteps grew quiet. Roy listened as a majority of patients talked or swore. Some were British others American. All of them were suffering injuries. Roy heard some talking about returning to duty after wounds were healed up. He envied them.

Footsteps approached. "Good evening Major." It was the head nurse. "Hungry?"

"Ma'am, I am famished." Roy corrected.

"Then let's take care of that." She replied and he heard a metal tray touch down on a table. "Would you like to try yourself?" Riza asked.

Roy opened his hand holding it out. She took his hand in hers and placed a cool metal utensil in it. He tried to curl his fingers around it and managed to get a rather primitive hold on it.

Riza guided his hand over to the tray and helped him scoop something into what he realized was a spoon. She released his hand and he brought it close to his face, he could smell oatmeal now and he fought making a face.

He really did not care for oatmeal even as a child he had disliked the flavor and texture. Here though he knew better than to complain so he opened his mouth and after first touching his nose ended up with a mouthful of oatmeal.

The meal took nearly three times as long as it normally would. Twice he dropped the spoon and had to grope for it. Riza stayed by his side offering help when he wanted it and trying to use encouraging phrases that weren't aimed for children.

"I am an utter mess." Roy observed. He felt awful having to rely on this kind nurse just to eat.

"I've seen far worse than you." She replied. "To be honest I enjoy your company greatly compared to some of the men who come through. Some aren't as strong as you are." She admired.

"Thank you," He felt warmth rise in his cheeks. "Do you never get sick of being a nurse?" He asked.

"It's my job to take care of patients." She reminded. "Now I have rounds to make so I suggest you try to sleep." He heard her stand up and nodded.

Three days passed and Knox removed the stitches. "We will start some simple therapy later and see if that improves their level of function." He said before leaving.

Roy said nothing. He was a little unnerved by feeling the little strings exit his skin. The process had been mildly painful as well so he really did not feel like talking at the moment.

Riza came by and noticed. "I see you've had your stitches removed. How do your hands feel?"

"Better I think." Roy answered. "They still sting, I guess I will have to wait for whatever therapy Dr. Knox has planned for me."

"I hope it helps." She said gently. Her fingers brushed his shoulder lightly.

Roy listened to her continue on her way and sighed. The darkness was driving him insane. The Major had begun praying that his eyesight was perfectly fine. The thought of living the rest of his life sightless was far more frightening than the sound of tanks and air raids. With weapons or attacks one could learn what to anticipate. It was not so with being blind. Unable to see anything one could walk right into their death simply becase they had not seen it.

When Dr. Knox returned later that afternoon Roy bombarded him with questions. "So what kind of therapy is this?"

"It uses massaging of the hands to loosen the stiff muscles." Knox replied.

"And if it does not work will I ever be able to do simple things like hold a pen or button a shirt?" Roy asked. His need to see things had translated into a need to know information.

"That depends on how hard you try. If you will your hands to move in the manner you want I am sure you can make them cooperate most of the time."

"What about my eyes, what do you know about them?" The Brit continued.

"Just that they took a good hit, they were scratched and a little burned when you first came in. Now the eyes have the potential to heal up just fine, but every now and again the injuries are too much for even them." Knox was growing bored of the questions as he massaged one of the soldier's hands.

Roy sat in silence trying to notice any difference in his hands.

A few more days passed and the bandages were being removed. "Now close your eyes and get ready for a lot of blinding light." Dr. Knox warned.

He and Riza were unwinding the long roll of gauze around Roy's head. When the last layer came off Roy slowly opened his eyes. He heard the suspended breath of the nurse and the quiet sigh from Knox.

For a moment Roy waited for the darkness to dissipate. After a few moments Riza spoke up, "Can you see?" She asked hope in her voice.

"Nothing." Roy replied bitterly. His brow furrowed deeply and he ran a hand through his short hair. "I can not see a single bloody thing." He growled.

"I am so sorry Major." Dr. Knox said regret tinging his gruff voice.

"It is not your fault. The battle has claimed my sight not you. Thank you for doing what you could."

"It wasn't enough." Riza whispered.

"I like to believe these things happen for a reason, sometimes the change it causes can a make a person's life better or make it worse. Either way I don't believe it just randomly happens." Knox added before walking away.

Roy burried his face in his hands in despair. He was blind and would be shipped home in this disgraceful state.

Feminine hands rubbed his shoulders supportively. She said nothing until he raised his head.

"I'm sorry." Riza began. "But perhaps the doctor is right. And you never know, in a few years we might be able to heal blindness completely."

"If only." Roy replied wistfully.

A week later Roy stood outside the bathroom of the makeshift hospital and ran his healed hands along the front of his dress uniform. He could feel the stiff collar was in place, the tie nice and tight, his lapels were smooth, cap secure on his head, and the buttons were a mess. He sighed. His fingers were better now but he had still lost enough control that these simple tasks had become much larger.

Riza approached, he could tell by the sound of her footsteps. "Major can I help you?" She asked it not as if she saw what was wrong, but as if she were just offering any little assistance.

"Please." Roy replied glad to not have to ask for it himself. Suddenly her fingers were against his chest. They glided over his uniform as she undid the work he had failed and then deftly put them in order. She smoothed everything out when she was done and he managed to place a hand over one of hers.

"Thank you." He said in a soft voice.

"Anytime." Riza replied a little playfully. She grew quiet and Roy tilted his head to the side.

"Are you flirting with a patient?" Roy asked mischeviously.

"Not nearly as much as you are." She said poking him.

"Can I ask one more favor before I leave?" His voice was quiet again.

"Ask."

"How about a little goodbye kiss?" His voice was soft and enticing.

The was a pause and he was afraid she would say no. Of course she did not feel that way about him. He was just another patient in need of her skills.

"Just a little one." She murmured before her lips brushed his. It was like electricty zinging through his lips. He found himslef pushing a little hard and she pulled away.

Roy sucked in a breath and raised his hand to his face. He gently felt his lips to make sure they were still there.

"What was that?" Riza asked finally.

"I have not the slightest." Roy replied equally confused. He then pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and offered it to her. "This is my home address. If you should wish to begin correspondance I know of a trustworthy chap who will be more than happy to oblige."

Riza took it silently. "I will try." She promised.

Roy smiled. "I believe it is time for us to part ways." He said sadly. Over the past two weeks she had been the only reason he had not gone insane. When rounds were over she had talked with him a little bit and the conversation had helped clear his mind of desperate thoughts.

"Unfortunately." Riza replied her tone matching his.

"Thank you, I would have gone mad otherwise." He added.

"You are most welcome." She replied before brushing her lips on his cheek. He blushed a little before an orderly approached calling his name.

Had he been able to he would have looked back and smiled at her so instead he waved his free hand in the air as he was directed to the building's exit.