May 29

"You'll never guess what happened today. It all started when I woke up at an ungodly hour before the sun was even up. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I finally headed downstairs in the hope that Miss Hawkeye would be up too, and willing to keep me company again…"

It really was painfully early when Roy woke with a vague sense of unease pricking at the edges of his subconscious. After trying and failing to just roll back over and sleep for a bit longer, he finally dragged on some clothes and made his way to the kitchen.

Just as the water began to boil for tea, he heard something—a faint cry. With a shaking hand, he moved the hissing kettle off the flame and listened intently. There! There it was again, a weak cry for help. It was coming from outside! He threw open the door, paused a second to listen, and then darted around the side of the house with his stomach in knots.

Though he ought to have expected it, he was shocked to find Miss Hawkeye lying there in the grass in the early morning light.

She was curled in on herself, and very clearly in pain. Eyes bright with unshed tears, Riza turned her face toward him in a mute and pathetic plea. Roy gasped aloud and ran to her, and her desperate look dissolved into one of mingled relief and anxiety.

"Omigod, are you all right?" he asked, dropping to the ground at her side. "What happened? Did you fall?" Without waiting for an answer, he reached out to touch her. Riza flinched away from his hand reflexively, and cried out in pain as she jarred her own injury. "Sorry!" Roy exclaimed. "I should've asked...where are you hurt?"

"My shoulder, and my arm," she whispered.

"Right. OK, here, can you sit up?" He slid a hand beneath her lower back and carefully helped her up to a sitting position. She whimpered very slightly, but bit her lip to keep from crying out again.

"Here, let me have a look at it," he said gently, trying to remain calm. She was holding her arm at an odd angle, and it was probably either broken or dislocated. At least there was no blood, and no protruding bone. That had to be a good thing. "Right, okay. Stay right here, Miss Hawkeye, I'm going to go find your father," he said, starting to rise to his feet.

"NO!" she cried, louder than he'd ever heard her speak before. She looked as surprised as he did, and then she blushed. "I, um, I don't want to disturb him; I'm sure he's busy with his research, if he's even up yet," she said quickly.

"Disturb—? But—this is a little more important, I'm sure he'd want to know about—"

"Please, if you'd only help me stand up, I'll just go to the surgeon's by myself. He'll know how to fix it," she pleaded. Roy eyed her uncertainly, and she pressed on. "Then Father won't have to worry. By the time he wakes up, it will already be taken care of," she said earnestly, looking directly into Roy's eyes. He caved.

"A-all right, if you're sure. I'm coming with you, then," he said determinedly.

She looked almost as worried about that option as she had been when he mentioned fetching her father. Roy carefully pulled her up by her good arm, and looked grim when she yipped and crashed against him.

"Um-hm. I don't think you'll be walking there all by yourself on a sprained ankle. Come on, you can lean on me and we'll go together. I don't suppose any of the neighbors have a pony or anything we could borrow?" She shook her head, clearly chagrined. "Oh, well. Can't be helped. Come on, I won't bite you," he teased her lightly when she hesitated. She blushed and lowered her head, trying to hide her eyes.

"You don't have to do this, Mr. Mustang," she said.

"Well, of course I don't HAVE to do anything; no one's forcing me..." he smiled crookedly at her. "But I'd like to help you. If you'll let me, that is."

"Really, I'll manage just fine on my own," she protested again, more weakly this time.

"On that ankle? I mean, technically I suppose you could, but why torture yourself? I'm sure you'd manage it alone somehow if you had to, although it'd be pretty rough…you'll only hurt your foot more if you try to walk on it, you know."

"I don't want to be a burden to you," she said quietly. Roy looked down at her with mingled pity and surprise.

"You're not a burden at all. That's what friends do, help each other when they're down," he smiled. It was Riza's turn to look surprised.

"Friends?" Roy flushed a little.

"Well, I'd like for us to be friends, but I'll still help you regardless of what you think of me," he replied with an embarrassed little shrug.

"Then, if you're sure it's not too much trouble…I would appreciate your help, Mr. Mustang," she finally managed. Roy beamed.

"We'd better get going; it's a long walk. The doctor lives close to the train station, right?"

"Yes."

She limped along all right for the first few minutes, but Roy could tell that she was trying not to lean too much on him.

"Think you can hold on to me with only one arm?" he asked, eyeing a nearby fence. "You could ride piggyback."

"I...I don't think so," Riza grimaced slightly, cradling her arm to her chest. "It really hurts to move it. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for something like that," he scolded. Geez, this girl. "Here, let me try this for a while, then," and he literally swept her off her feet. She squeaked in shock, but found that her good arm was the one around his neck, and the bad arm was cradled against her chest just as before.

"Oh! I—um. Are you sure this is all right?" she asked, embarrassed.

"I'm all right if you are," he replied. "This way at least we aren't making your ankle worse by putting weight on it." He walked faster carrying her than they had been moving with her hobbling on the bad ankle, and he covered the remaining distance in no time.

The look on the doctor's face was pretty priceless when he looked up from his morning coffee to see a strange boy approaching his door while carrying that particular young girl in his arms. He managed to compose himself by the time they reached the door, which he hastened to open for them.

"What's all this, Miss Hawkeye?" the doctor said cheerfully, looking at her with an experienced eye. "Hm, anterior shoulder dislocation, I see. And is there something wrong with her leg as well?"

"I think it might be a sprained ankle, sir," Roy said deferentially. "It hurt her to put weight on it, but she hadn't noticed anything wrong until she tried to stand."

"No, I rather imagine not, when she had that shoulder to worry about," the doctor answered. "All right, Miss Hawkeye, don't you fret. We'll fix you right up. Young man, if you would be so kind? This way, please," he said, and led the way into his exam room. Roy followed with Riza, whom he set carefully down on the exam table as the doctor requested.

The doctor ran gentle fingers over her arm and shoulder, nodding and clucking when she inhaled sharply. "I see. You're a very brave girl not to cry, my dear; I know how much pain you must be in." He searched a cabinet nearby, and came out with a syringe and a vial.

Catching sight of Riza's wide and frightened eyes, Roy moved a little closer to the exam table. He recognized the signs; Ada had a needle phobia as well. Riza gripped his sleeve with her good hand, which he patted reassuringly as she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. The doctor jabbed her quickly, explaining as he did so:

"This is just a local anesthetic. We're going to have to get that shoulder back into place, and this will help with the pain. When you leave, dear, we'll send you home with some pain medication as well." Turning to Roy, whose hand was still resting on Riza's, he added, "I'm sure we can trust you to look after her and ensure she takes them, er—?"

"Roy Mustang, sir. And yes, sir, I'll take care of her," he said firmly. The doctor grinned. He liked this kid's spunk.

"Good man. Now, could you just run along to the tea shop and bring me my nurse? She's a plump blonde woman wearing a lab coat; I'll need her assistance for this next part. In the meantime, my dear, let's take a look at that ankle," he said, looking back at Riza.

By the time Roy and the nurse returned, the doctor had wrapped Miss Hawkeye's ankle tightly. "This should heal up in a week or so," he was saying. "Just try to stay off of it as much as possible. Ah, Mr. Mustang. Could you wait outside for just a moment, please? I think our patient might prefer some privacy while we attend to this next bit."

Roy blinked in confusion, but caught on a second later when the kind-faced nurse started to unbutton Miss Hawkeye's dress. Roy promptly flushed and made himself scarce.

From the waiting room, he could hear the soothing murmurs of the nurse, the lower rumbles of the doctor's voice, and twice, heart rending cries from the younger girl. He chewed his lip, wondering what his teacher would say when he learned of his daughter's injuries. What had she been doing, anyway? It looked like she'd fallen out of the tree she'd been lying under, but what was she doing climbing it in the first place? It's not like Miss Riza was the type who climbed trees just for fun...or was she? She didn't seem to be. He wondered whether she'd answer if he asked her outright.

After what felt like hours, the doctor emerged with Riza, whose arm was now in a sling.

"Miss Hawkeye tells me the two of you walked all the way here from her father's house?" he said, with one eyebrow raised in query.

"Yes, sir," he started to answer. "Hawkeye-sensei doesn't keep a horse, and so we—"

"That's not right, Doctor James," Riza interrupted, her voice shy and sleepy. "Mr. Mustang walked the whole way here; I was carried. But itzokay, cuz he's not like any of them." The doctor chuckled a little.

"Ah, the pain pills must be kicking in," he said in an aside to Roy. "She'll probably be a bit out of it for a while," he said, and passed a small bottle to Roy. "Give them to her every six to eight hours as needed for pain. She'll be good as new in a couple weeks; the sprain wasn't too bad. Now, I know she's a little stubborn, but try to keep her off that ankle as much as possible, won't you, son?"

"Yes, sir. I'll do my best, sir," Roy answered, reaching out to stabilize the girl, who had swayed slightly.

"Now, I don't doubt a strong lad like yourself could carry Miss Hawkeye the whole way home as well, but why don't you let me give you kids a lift instead?" he said kindly, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, sir, that would be great," Roy replied.

They piled into the doctor's old truck, settling Riza between them on the long bench seat. Before the truck had even made it out of the driveway, she'd closed her eyes and laid her head on Roy's shoulder. A bit pleased, Roy chose to accept it as a sign that she trusted him enough to relax, even if it was only because she was exhausted and loopy from the pills.

When the truck pulled up to the Hawkeye estate, the doctor peered through the windshield. He fixed questioning eyes on the windows of the upper floor that belonged to the master of the house.

"I suppose Berthold must be at a delicate phase of his research if he sent his apprentice to escort his daughter, rather than bring her to me himself," the doctor said casually. Roy recognized the fishing tactic; his aunt was an expert at leading questions like those. He didn't resent it, as he knew the man was more concerned for the Miss Hawkeye's well-being than anything else.

"Hawkeye-sensei doesn't even know that she got hurt yet," he answered honestly. "I'm the one who heard her calling out, and we both thought it would be best to get her medical attention right away. Actually," he hesitated, and glanced down at his pocket watch with a furrowed brow. "Sensei may still be sleeping at this hour. He's a bit of a night owl, you see, so sometimes he's not up until almost noon. I'll wake him as soon as she's settled and explain everything, sir."

The doctor pursed his lips but didn't say anything else, satisfied but not altogether pleased with the explanation. Roy opened the door, and Riza drowsily started to jump down after him. He caught her around the waist, preventing her from landing on her bad ankle just before her feet hit the ground.

"Whoa, easy now, Miss Hawkeye," he chided, and laughed a little at the cute frown she gave him. "Thank you very much, doctor. We appreciate all your help," he said, and managed a small bow to the old doctor even with the girl leaning heavily on him.

"You take good care of her, son," Dr. James replied.

"I will. I promise, sir," Roy replied solemnly.

The good doctor watched as Roy guided his patient to the doorway, and waited until they'd fumbled indoors before driving slowly away.

"Hmm. You may be right, Riza-chan," he said softly to himself. "This boy might be different after all."

Roy paused at the bottom of the stairs, daunted.

"Let's just hope sensei doesn't get the wrong idea and light my ass on fire," he mumbled, eyeing the increasingly delirious girl wavering beside him. Somehow carrying her upstairs seemed a lot more awkward when he considered that he might run into her father. Whose express instructions had been to leave his daughter alone, if he recalled correctly.

"What's all this?" a harsh voice from behind him rang out.

Roy froze, horrified. Before he could speak, Riza raised her head from off his shoulder.

"Hi, Papa," she said affectionately. The glower on Berthold's face faltered as she beamed up at him, but his sharp eyes lingered on the sling on her arm and the bandage on her ankle.

"What happened, child?" he asked in a slightly softer tone. But she had already closed her eyes again. Roy staggered slightly as she went limp against him.

Without further ado, Hawkeye darted forward and gathered his daughter into his arms, cradling her as though she was made of glass. He brushed past Roy and glided rapidly up the stairs, betraying a level of fitness Roy had not suspected him to be capable of.

Over his shoulder, he simply said, "Wait for me in my study, please."

Heart pounding, Roy slunk down the hallway toward the warmth and light of the library. Sitting on the very edge of his favorite armchair there, he wondered whether he was about to be sent packing. Surely, he'd be given a chance to explain first, right? Or had it been little things like this that had lost the other apprentices their places?

After all, of the few rules his teacher had given him, number one had been not to bother his daughter...and here she was, obviously injured and acting like she was drunk or something, with her dress all rumpled and dirty...of course his teacher would be suspicious. Any father would! And after all of his resolve and hard work, and his aunt's careful arrangements, he'd be sent packing for failing to be cautious of his conduct.

Anxious and sick, Roy hung his head.

"Mr. Mustang," Hawkeye said behind him. Roy jumped. He hadn't even heard the man approaching. How the hell did those two move so quietly? "My daughter tells me that you accompanied her to the doctor this morning," the older man continued.

"I—um, yes, sir. I did," Roy stammered.

"I thank you for looking after her. Due to the nature of her injuries, I must ask you to see to your own meals for the next several days, as she will need her rest while she recovers."

Speechless, Roy could only watch his teacher cross his room and sit behind his desk. Hawkeye reached for a heavy text that had been sitting off to one side.

"Now then, here is the treatise on microbiology I promised to find for you. I would like for you to finish reading this by next week so that we can incorporate it into your lesson." He raised an eyebrow when the boy simply gaped at him. "Is something the matter?"

"I—I just...I mean, I thought…you aren't angry with me?" he said, numbly accepting the book from his teacher's still outstretched hands.

"Should I be?" The older man replied, the slightest hint of amusement showing in his eyes. Roy struggled to gather his thoughts.

"Well, I was afraid that you, er, that you might think that I'd—," he stumbled over the words. "I mean, Miss Hawkeye was hurt pretty badly, and with whatever the doctor gave her for the pain, she wasn't exactly coherent when we came in just now, and..." he trailed off nervously, unsure of how to proceed. His teacher saved him the trouble.

"If I thought you were responsible in any way for her injuries, you would not still be standing here," Berthold said coolly. A shiver ran down Roy's spine. "Given her current state, it is very clear that your assistance to my daughter was invaluable. I am grateful to you," he finished in a slightly gentler tone.

"Anyone would have done the same in my place, sir," Roy said humbly. "I'd have done as much for any of my own sisters." Though his head was slightly bowed, he caught a calculating look in his teacher's eyes, and wondered what it meant. After a moment, the older man spoke again.

"We have much to work on today. You may go now, my boy."

Permission granted thus, Roy quickly escaped to the solitude of his own room. He glanced back over his shoulder as he slipped out of the door to see his teacher's head already bent over his work.

It wasn't until he pulled off his coat and heard a clattering sound that he realized he'd forgotten to tell anyone about the pain pills the doctor had left him. Mentally shrugging his shoulders, he pocketed the bottle again and glanced at the clock. He'd just take them in to her when it was time to take another dose. Finally, he settled down with his book to study.

Exactly six hours later, Roy carefully balanced a tray in his hands and hesitated outside of Miss Hawkeye's closed bedroom door. What if she was sleeping? He couldn't just let himself into a girl's room without her permission, regardless of his intentions. He'd learned THAT the hard way with his sisters, years ago. He rapped on the door with his knuckles, and was faintly relieved to hear a weak voice call out in response.

"Yes?"

Roy pushed the door open. For a moment, Miss Hawkeye just blinked at him while he stood awkwardly in the doorway, and then her eyes focused on the tray in his hand. Confusion stamped all over her face, she made a move to sit up in her bed, but immediately winced and grabbed her shoulder.

"Easy." He hastily set the tray on the nightstand beside her bed and reached for her. "Huh, dèja vu," he chuckled. "Here, let me help you..." He helped her settle against her pillows in a more comfortable position, noting as he did that she looked slightly feverish. She turned bright, glassy eyes on him, questioning silently what he wanted.

"Oh, erm, here," he said, gesturing to the tray he'd brought in. "This is the medicine the doc gave me for you. And, well, pills usually go down easier when you have a bit of food on your stomach, so I brought you some miso soup," he fussed with the glass of water and the pills on the tray, feeling a little foolish.

He'd been hoping that she would think a little better of him, now. Their last few conversations had certainly been more cordial than their earliest ones, and she'd even trusted him to help her when she'd needed someone…but being here in her room right now, there was more tension than ever between them.

Maybe that was part of it, he realized. Though the circumstances were outside of her control, she'd allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of him, which was something she'd very carefully avoided up until now.

Roy cleared his throat and straightened up, preparing to leave. "It's not much, but it's a kind of broth my aunt always makes whenever anyone is sick. It's really light, so if you're hungry for anything else, just tell me and I'll do my best to make it."

"Thank you, but please—you needn't trouble yourself over me," she murmured, eyes lowered.

"It's no trouble," he replied, his smile faltering a bit. Was he just making things worse by forcing his way in here? Maybe Claire was right and he should just leave her alone; give her some space. After all, Riza had been taking care of both her father and herself for years, and she might resent his trying to wrest control of the situation. He edged towards the door.

"I don't really have to take the pills, do I?" Riza asked, in a small voice that made her sound like a much younger girl. Roy paused.

"Well, if you really don't want to, then I guess you don't have to," he mused. "But doesn't your shoulder hurt? Or your ankle?" he asked, incredulous. "The pills are meant to help with the pain. Why don't you want them?"

"It's...it's just that the ones before made me feel strange," she said, frowning a little.

"Oh, right. You seemed a little out of it, and the doc mentioned that they'd probably make you sleepy," he said. Color bloomed in her pale cheeks. Roy hid a smile.

"I can't just lie in bed all day; there are things I should be doing," she said, her fingers plucking nervously at her comforter.

"And that's probably why he gave you these," Roy chuckled. "You shouldn't be doing anything with your ankle and shoulder all busted like that. He wanted you to rest, so that you heal faster."

Roy held out the bottle of pills and the glass of water. Riza glared at them, a slight pout on her face. Gosh, but she was cute with her lower lip sticking out like that. After a moment, he softened.

"What if we make a deal?" he offered.

"What kind of deal?" she said warily, clutching her bedclothes and shrinking slightly away from him. Damn it. He wasn't just imagining it, he was sure this time. Slowly, he set the glass back on the tray. What on earth was with these trust issues of hers? What did she think he was going to ask her to do?

"Just this: you don't have to take any pills, but in exchange, you promise to stay quietly in your room, and not to do any chores for the next couple of days," Roy said. "That way, I'm not really breaking my promise to Dr. James, and you're still taking it easy and letting your body heal. Come on, what do you say?"

She looked at him like he'd just grown wings. "You—just want me to rest? That's it?"

Seriously, what had she expected him to say? Roy frowned a little.

"Well...yeah," he said. "Because I told the doc I'd look after you, remember? Oh, I guess you wouldn't, if you were already asleep by then," he grinned, and her eyes flashed, which amused him even more than the pink cheeks.

He was really starting to enjoy getting a reaction out of her. And she was starting to get worse at hiding her reactions from him.

"And besides, I'm sure the chores can wait until you're feeling better. I'll even help you, if you want, after lessons. I did okay with the weeding, right? I mean, after I figured out which ones were the carrots…"

Riza opened her mouth, as though to protest, and then shut it again. Roy grinned, and put out his hand.

"Deal?" Slowly, she extended her good arm.

"Deal," she echoed, softly. And she shook his hand solemnly.

A.N. Extra-long chapter courtesy of the three-day Memorial Day weekend :D I almost made it two, but then I couldn't decide where to break it up, so...I didn't!

Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites, everyone!

xoxo Janieshi