Two hours came and went swiftly. Riza now made her way back to the infirmary once more. She'd previously taken the liberty of bagging up both her uniform and the colonel's, and moving them to the car. She didn't want to forget them, nor did she want her hands to be full if the colonel needed support.
He wasn't alert or even awake when she entered the room this time. Not by any standard. The colonel was lying on his side, huddled into himself in what Riza could only assume was a subconscious effort for warmth.
As she moved closer, Riza drank in his haggard appearance in greater detail. His brow was furrowed and his mouth hung half-way open, conveying his discomfort clearly even from the clutches of fevered sleep. Still, he seemed no more alert of his surroundings, despite the fact she was fairly hovering over him at the moment. Roy Mustang was dead to the world.
Seeing him so deeply asleep, the lieutenant found herself hesitating for a brief second. Should she really disrupt him when he was finally getting some of the rest he needed? She quickly overcame that seed of doubt, however. Reminding herself that waking him would allow him to be able to rest in his own bed, in his own home… This, she was sure, would be infinitely more comfortable than a small infirmary cot.
"Colonel Mustang." Riza spoke up at last.
Roy didn't so much as stir. His only movement was the steady rise and fall of his sides and chest; his breath coming in low, congested snores.
"Colonel. It's time to go home." She spoke again. This time, she reached a hand down to gently shake his shoulder.
His eyebrows knit further and his nose twitched with a sniffle, but his eyes still didn't open.
Riza frowned slightly, but continued to pester him for a good five minutes.
Her stubbornness paid off as Roy groggily came to. "Nngh…" he groaned pitifully as he slowly lifted his head.
Licking his dried lips, Roy blinked sluggishly at the lieutenant, "W-Whad is id, Lieutedadt?" he murmured.
"My shift is over, sir." Hawkeye explained calmly, "Shall I drive you to your apartment now?" Though they both knew this really wasn't a question, Riza attempted to preserve some small shred of the colonel's dignity.
"Heh…Hehhh…Hhhpt'CHUU! Hhpt'CHUuu!" a pair sneezes erupted from the colonel with little warning. He sighed and rubbed at his chafed nose, "Please."
Riza watched him carefully as he pushed himself up, easing his legs over the side of the cot. She wasn't sure if his arms were trembling purely from illness or exhaustion. Perhaps it was a mix of the two, she decided.
Roy's expression became a deepened frown as he stared at the floor. "I can't get up too quickly…" he reminded himself, "Or this time… I really might pass out." It was a grudging self-admission, but one he couldn't ignore.
The lieutenant noticed all too easily the worried look that marred her commander's features. "Would you like me to give you a hand, sir?" she asked calmly.
"No. That won't be necessary, lieutenant." The words were automatically forming on his lips, but caught in his throat before they could be uttered. To say those words would be such an enormous lie that even half delirious with fever, he knew that he shouldn't go there. Even if he could stand under his own power, Roy realized, he felt too drained to make it very far. The fact was, he needed Hawkeye's help right now…just as much as he'd needed Havoc's to get here in the first place.
As if to confirm this revelation, a shiver wracked through him that seemed to come from his core. "I-If….If you dod't mind… lieutedadt." The flame alchemist replied wearily.
Offering him a brief, sympathetic smile, Riza held her hand out to him. His clammy palm met her firm, yet surprisingly gentle, grasp. She hoisted the ailing man to his feet and braced him against her side as she slowly guided him out of the infirmary.
Roy did his best to support as much of his own weight as he possibly could, not wanting to burden his lieutenant any more than he had to. After all, she was already being too kind to him.
It wasn't long before Riza had helped him into the back seat of the car and settled herself into the driver's seat.
Roy rested his heated brow against the cool glass of the car window, noticing dimly as he glanced out that it had stopped raining. "Not a moment too soon." He thought absently as the car rolled forward.
Hawkeye peered over her shoulder briefly at her C.O. He seemed to have slipped back into a daze. To be fair, she wasn't sure if she'd really expected anything else.
The hoarse sound of coughing filled the back seat as she turned her attention back to the road. It was a less than pleasant sound, but she feigned indifference for his sake. Apart from the sporadic interference of Roy's symptoms, the drive to his apartment was a silent one. Riza parked the car on the side of the road, a few meters from the colonel's apartment.
She glanced back at her passenger, "We're here, sir." She stated.
Roy blinked slowly, lifting his head from its impromptu pillow. The window had left his cheek feeling slightly numb with cold, but it was strangely welcome when compared with the heat pulsating through his temples. "Hm…This is by apardmedt alrighd." He qualified with a glance.
Riza got out of the vehicle, walking around to the passenger's side to open the rear door for her superior.
Roy stood carefully, wobbling slightly despite his best efforts. "Almost there…" His fevered mind thought blissfully, "…I really want to lie down…"
Riza steadied the colonel, guiding him up to his own apartment to be sure he wouldn't fall over.
It was then that Mustang realized he had to unlock his apartment. Eyes widening briefly, his hands plunged into his pockets as he fumbled around for his keys. He cursed silently at his sudden inability to find them…what had he done with them?
"Colonel. Let me." Hawkeye spoke firmly.
He glanced at her blearily, confusion creasing his brow. "Whad… how?"
"You gave me your spare, sir. For safekeeping." Came her swift reply.
He nodded slowly, "Alrighd…bud I still dod't know where by keys are." He sighed in defeat.
"Probably in your uniform pants, sir." Riza told him calmly, "You might have forgotten to remove them…Seeing as you did almost lose consciousness after changing, sir."
Her explanation seemed to satisfy him as he didn't say anything further on the matter.
She wasted little time in retrieving the spare key from her own pocket. Then, placing the key in the lock and she gave it a practiced turn.
The door unlocked with a satisfying 'click' and the two stepped inside.
A small wooden shelf sat adjacent to the doorway upon which, Riza noted, was a rather plain looking lamp. She promptly turned it on, bringing light to the previously darkened apartment.
Riza surveyed what she could see at a glance. The apartment was a standard single floor building. From the entryway, she could see clear to the living room at the other end of the hall. She might as well learn the layout while she was here, just in case she did need to assist the colonel beyond that night.
It appeared as though Roy seemed to get the gist of her thoughts as he mumbled, "Kidchen's off the lividg roob…bathroob is to your left…by roob is od the righd."
Riza blinked and glanced back at him. With one look, she could easily conclude why he was being so helpful. The look in his ebony eyes said that he sorely needed to lie down. That meant avoiding as many questions as possible that could get between him and sleep. It made her feel just a bit uneasy that he was so worn down.
"Heh…HUPT'chuu!" Roy sneezed into his sleeve, pitching forward slightly. "Ugh…Jusd dod't bind the bess…lieutedadt." He murmured halfheartedly as he recovered.
The warning puzzled Hawkeye slightly, but she decided to reserve her judgment for when she saw the rest his living quarters.
His mention of disarray, it turned out, was not without its justification. His bedroom most certainly looked lived in. A white dress shirt that ought to be on a hanger was tossed precariously on the floor. His bed sheets were rumpled and flowing half-way off the bed. Not to mention, his closet door was wide open, littering the floor around it with some of its contents.
Ordinarily, Hawkeye would have criticized the sloppy sight, but she had a feeling the mess was fairly recent. If her instincts were correct, the disorder was likely a bi-product of a long morning. It was all too simple to picture the colonel waking up late, feeling unwell, and having a morning that moved from bad to worse. He'd probably left it all behind in a frantic rush to get to the eastern command building on time.
"Why don't you change into some pajamas and get settled, sir." Riza suggested calmly, as if the mess wasn't even there.
Roy looked at her strangely, "Nod id frodt of you, lieutedadt…"
"Of course not, sir." Riza stiffened, "I thought I might prepare you some dinner. You'll need to keep up your strength if you're to return to work any time soon."
A trace of a smirk graced his features, "I appreciade the offer, lieutedadt… bud I'b nod all that hudgry."
"You should still try to eat something, sir." Hawkeye countered.
Mustang heaved a sigh; he didn't have the energy to stand around arguing with her. "Fide." He conceded.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth for a fraction of a second, "I'll be in the kitchen, sir." She said before closing the door behind her and disappearing down the hall.
Roy sighed deeply as she walked away, causing his lungs to rebel as he crumbled into coughing. "Darn it."
He regained his breath slowly; setting about getting changed for the third time that day. The first time had been a maddening blur as he'd rushed to get ready that morning, the second had been a half-delirious effort that had nearly led to him passing out… Needless to say, he wasn't really looking forward to round three.
A part of him was disgusted by how uncoordinated and inept he'd become, whilst the rest of him was too far gone to care. He managed to stumble into his pajamas, but elected to leave the fatigues on the floor for the time being in hopes of not repeating the intense dizzy spell that he'd experienced the last time. That was the last thing he desired at this point.
Instead, Roy made a half-baked effort at fixing his blankets and sheets before crawling into bed and huddling beneath them. A subconscious shiver prompted him to curl further into the blankets… He really did feel pathetic right now. His body ached, his throat was sore, he was congested, feverish, and above all- tired. Eyelids feeling as if they were lined with lead, the colonel let them slip shut.
He wasn't sure how long he'd laid there. He wasn't even sure if he'd fallen asleep or merely drifted into a fevered state of half-consciousness. He willed his eyes to focus as he surveyed the wooden floor from the bed on which he laid. Something seemed oddly… different. It was if the floor had somehow become… cleaner?
Realization slowly dawned on Mustang and his eyes widened a fraction. Hawkeye must have come in and picked up after him. That seemed to be the only plausible solution. He pushed himself into a shaky sitting position.
"Well. She doesn't seem to be here now… Maybe she went home." Roy thought to himself silently.
The colonel didn't get the chance to consider the thought further, however, as an incredibly strong itching invaded his nasal passages, "Heh…Ehhhh…Ehhhhh…Hhpt'CHUU! Hukt'CHUU! Hhpt'CHUUuu! Hhpt'CHUU!" He doubled forward with each blast, sneezing into the blankets.
He groaned and sniffled wetly, wondering why his body felt the need to spend energy that it didn't have on sneezing. In his state of obvious fatigue and dismay, Roy barely heard the click of his door opening as the knob was turned.
"Gesundheit, sir. Incidentally, I've brought your dinner." Riza stood in his doorway, one hand still on the knob while the other carefully balanced a decently sized bowl of something steaming.
Roy regarded her sluggishly, eyes drifting to the bowl she was holding. Despite his lack of appetite, he felt a slight pang of disappointment that this illness had robbed him of his sense of smell. He was sure whatever was in that bowl must smell wonderful.
"Id smells gread, lieutedadt." He found himself murmuring, fever broadcasting his thoughts despite his inability to validate them.
"You're a bad liar, sir." The lieutenant said as she walked over to his bedside. "You and I both know you can't smell a thing right now."
"Well…" he amended slowly, "It seebs like id would."
She held the bowl out to him carefully, waiting until both of his hands were wrapped around the glass before she let go.
Roy lowered his gaze into the bowl. Chunks of chicken were floating around in a mix of broth and noodles as a pleasantly warm steam wafted off from it. He felt his gratitude multiplying instantaneously, "Ahhh…Thadk you, lieutedadt." His words were hardly above a whisper, but not one bit of their meaning was lost on the lieutenant.
Riza produced a spoon from her breast pocket, extending it to him wordlessly.
Roy took the utensil and proceeded to dip it into the soup. Then, hand wobbling slightly, he brought the first spoonful into his waiting mouth. His eyes closed contentedly as he appreciated the warmth and what he could of the flavor.
"You're welcome, sir." Riza said at last.
Roy blinked his eyes open at her words, lowering the spoon back into the soup. "Id's good." He said simply.
"I'm glad you think so, sir." Her delivery was stoic, but genuine.
Roy smiled tiredly and turned his attention back to enjoying the liquid 'Heaven' she'd provided him with.
Author's Note:
So there you have chapter 7! As I said, I really need to stockpile these chapters… *laughs* This one took much longer than the last few. Anyway, I hope Roy and Riza aren't too out of character. I'm really trying to keep their personalities intact. *nervous laugh*
On another note, I finally let Roy go home. Yaaaay! Now he can be taken care of all proper-like. =) *whispers* I'm still going to make him suffer though.
Reviews make me happy and I'll see you in chapter 8!