Two things were very clear to Riza Hawkeye as she watched her superior eat. Judging by the blissful expression that had crossed Mustang's face, he appreciated the soup with every ounce of his being. However, equally transparent was the fact that he was lifting fewer spoonfuls to his mouth. He was instead electing to breathe in the soup's warm fumes, most likely in an effort to try and clear his blocked sinuses. While this would probably help on some small scale, it seemed to indicate that he was getting full.
Riza wasn't all that surprised by this observation. Roy himself had verified that he didn't have much of an appetite. This, she was certain, was likely due to his fever.
"If you're finished, sir, I can take the bowl back to the kitchen." She said at last.
Roy blinked slowly at her, and then glanced back into his half-full bowl of soup. "I'm sorry." He murmured, letting her take the dish from him.
"I didn't expect you to finish it, sir." Hawkeye replied curtly.
Roy offered a wry smile, "I see."
He watched her walk out into the hall, managing to hold back a series of coughs until she'd disappeared from his sight. With a soft groan, he let his head fall back against the pillow.
The soup had left him with an overall pleasant feeling of warmth in his being. It was as if his chills had been temporarily washed away by the steaming glory of it all. This sensation, combined with his palpable fatigue, quickly lulled the colonel into a state of dreamless sleep.
By the time Riza had returned to his doorway, Roy was snoring audibly, completely oblivious to his surroundings. "It didn't take him long…not that it's that surprising." She mused to herself. He was pretty sick, after all.
Despite what Roy might have thought, she had heard his coughing several minutes ago. It had reminded her that she needed to check his medicine cabinet. Not only could he probably use some cough syrup, but apart from the medicine that he'd been given in the infirmary, she wasn't sure if Roy had anything that counted as a fever- reducer.
"Medicine cabinet… I'd wager it's in the bathroom." Riza thought to herself mildly as she headed off to check. There was no point in waking the colonel just to inquire about something that she could easily discover the answer to herself.
The bathroom was small and simple, but Roy had, at the very least, managed to keep it clean. Riza couldn't help but feel slightly relieved by this discovery.
The medicine cabinet quickly caught her eye and Riza peered inside to assess what there was to work with. She froze.
There was a roll of gauze, a glass bottle with a single pill inside, and a long expired prescription for an ear infection.
While Riza had expected the colonel to be under-stocked, she found the condition of his medicine cabinet to be atrocious. Sure, her superior didn't often fall ill, but she was positive he knew better than to not plan for the possibility. Then again, this was the same man who had dashed out into the rain with all intentions of battling Scar with nothing but his flame alchemy. His ego really could overshadow his better judgment sometimes.
With a sigh, the lieutenant picked up the nearly empty glass bottle to read its label. It was aspirin. She wasn't entirely surprised. The colonel did seem prone to headaches; what with his rank, ambitions… and handling Edward Elric.
Still, he really ought to realize when he was running low; especially when he used it as frequently as he most probably did. Riza shook her head to herself.
There was no getting around it; she'd have to go out and buy medicine for the colonel first thing in the morning. There was absolutely no way he could get by with a single pill of aspirin.
She put the bottle back in its place and shut the medicine cabinet. The lieutenant concluded Roy ought to count himself lucky to have been asleep when she'd decided to inspect his medicinal supply; otherwise she might have been tempted to chastise him.
As she entered the hall, Riza glanced at a wall clock. It was rather late. She supposed she could spend the night, just to assure that the colonel would be alright. However, she wasn't about to take the risk of her motives being misunderstood. She selected a comfy chair in the colonel's living room that she could utilize for a few hours sleep.
With her last minute bedding arrangements made, the lieutenant decided to check in on the colonel before getting some shut-eye. To her relief, the colonel didn't seem as feverish as he had been earlier. She supposed whatever they'd given him in the infirmary was working for the time being. Not to mention, the colonel seemed so deeply asleep that she almost doubted a freight train could wake him.
Convinced he was stable enough to not require constant observation, Riza turned off the lights one by one as she headed back to his living room. She leaned back into the chair's fabric, allowing herself to relax.
The next thing Riza knew, daylight was piercing through her eyelids. She supposed she had been more tired than she'd thought; the last thing she remembered was sitting down. She opened her eyes and stared out the window as the bright sunrise shown in. Certainly it was one of the more pleasant sights to wake up to, she decided.
The lieutenant stretched and smoothed the wrinkles from the fatigues she was still wearing. She'd have to stop by her apartment and change when she got the chance. Making a mental note of this, Riza headed for Roy's room.
His bedroom door was still open from the night before. That seemed to indicate he hadn't budged. "Or if he did, he went right back to bed." Riza mused.
She closed the short distance between her and his bedside.
He didn't seem to be sleeping quite as peacefully as he had been after dinner. Not only did he look uncomfortable, but he seemed to be moaning subconsciously.
He writhed from left to right sharply. It left her wondering if he was having some sort of nightmare.
"Colonel?" Riza pressed her hand to his forehead. She was no expert, but she was fairly certain his fever had risen.
Roy's ebony eyes snapped open, blearily attempting to focus on his adjutant's face. His features formed a puzzled expression as she pulled back, "Biss…Hawkeye?" he croaked weakly.
It had been quite some time since he'd preceded her name with 'Miss', but Riza let it slide. "What is it, sir?"
"Wod't your…father," his nose twitched, "b-be…b-b-bad at you? Heh…Hhpt'CHUUuu!"
Riza felt alarm rising in her chest, but fought it down, "What for, sir?" she asked carefully.
"Hhpt'CHUU! HUPT'chuuu!" Roy sneezed twice more before he was able to speak, "B-Because…Doesd't he always say…" Roy gulped in air, "I bay be his appredtice… bud thad doesd't bead… I have ady bus'dess alode with his daughter."
"My father died several years ago, sir." Riza reminded him, trying to avoid going into an all out panic. His mind clearly wasn't in the present… She really needed to get his fever down.
"Very fuddy, Riza. We both kdow… I jusd med with hib… yesderday." Roy argued tiredly.
"Yes. How could I forget?" Riza murmured solemnly. For the moment, the colonel seemed completely ensnared by his delirium. She decided it was better not to argue with him.
Roy groaned, curling back into the blankets, "You mighd wadt to leave…Biss Hawkeye. I feel awful… I'd hade for you to cadch this…" he murmured, tone drifting.
"I'm afraid I can't leave, Mister Mustang. Not until you've eaten something and had your medicine." Riza said firmly.
"Jusd…wadt to… sleep." He replied feebly, eyelids drooping.
"Then I guess I'll just have to wait here until you're ready to eat, sir." Hawkeye responded coolly.
As her words sunk in, Roy regarded her, "…You're really dot going to led be sleep… are you?" he asked wearily.
"No sir."
He groaned pitifully. "Fide… I'll ead."
Eating proved more of a challenge than it had the night prior, high fever causing him to fumble continuously.
Riza coaxed him on, however. She assured he put down enough food to buffer the aspirin that he was about to take.
Despite being delirious, Roy seemed to have discovered that Riza was trying to help him, as he seemed a bit less disgruntled by the time he was swallowing the pill. He grimaced as the foreign object slid down his throat, scratching mercilessly on its way.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this sick… It was just his luck that this should happen on a day that Berthold Hawkeye had promised to teach him more alchemy… Not to mention, Riza would probably get yelled at over this… He hoped not. She was a quiet, kind girl. She didn't deserve any reproach.
"Get some rest now, Mister Mustang." Riza was saying as she placed a wet cloth on his forehead. She'd taken his dishes from him, "I'll be going…."
She'd be going? Roy supposed that was a wise idea… Maybe Master Hawkeye would only get on his case about this. If the man found out he was sick, maybe he wouldn't be as upset. After all… it was all he could do… to keep his eyes open…
Riza watched her superior doze off before she could finish her explanation. She wondered just how much of it he'd heard. She'd told him that she'd be going to the drug store to pick up some medicine. That was, just as soon as she'd phoned the command center and requested lieutenant Havoc to come watch over him in her absence. She couldn't risk leaving Roy alone while he was so completely delirious.
Jean Havoc had been caught off guard when Lieutenant Hawkeye called him. She'd asked him to meet her in front of the colonel's apartment. Something about him needing extra guard due to increasing rumors of recent Scar attacks in the area. And so he'd showed up fully outfitted, gun at the ready.
He sighed and shook his head, "Leave it to Hawkeye to wait until I got here to mention the part about babysitting the colonel." Havoc mused to himself.
Despite his charade of annoyance, the second lieutenant couldn't be all that mad. In fact, he really had to hand it to Hawkeye. She'd provided them both with a logical reason to be away from the command center. Even if the big wigs at Central got wind of their absence, it would come across totally justified.
The only thing that truly bothered him about the whole thing was the fact that he couldn't smoke on the job. It wasn't that he didn't understand why. He knew how sick the colonel was right now, how he'd already been coughing, and that cigarette smoke wouldn't help matters at all. In fact, it would probably make Mustang feel worse. Still, as Havoc sat in a wooden chair he'd pulled up to the colonel's bedside, he couldn't help feeling antsy.
He wouldn't light a cigarette; he'd already promised. However, the subconscious need for a smoke had led him to fiddling with his lighter. The desire hadn't been as strong when he'd initially arrived, but that was largely due to the fact that he'd been busy.
Riza had informed him that Roy had been delirious with his fever, and he didn't doubt it. The colonel had been tossing and turning, murmuring intermittently in his sleep, but it was all incoherent. Havoc had dabbed cold water onto his superior's forehead and neck as he'd muttered about things such as 'master' and 'Ishval.'
It had taken a good half an hour, but it seemed Mustang's fever had gone down some. He had ceased in his writhing and unconscious rambling and seemed to be more peaceful.
It was now, when Havoc had nothing to do but wait, that the desire for a cigarette burned the strongest.
"Darn you, chief. First you steal my girlfriends, and now I can't smoke because of you." Havoc spoke in silent, mock annoyance. He really couldn't be angry when his superior was in such a pitiful state.
He watched in mild amusement as the colonel rolled onto his side, hugging his blankets closer to himself. His commanding officer- a calculating, manipulative, and formidable alchemist- had been reduced to a shivering, child-like lump under a mass of blankets. It just seemed ironic in some form, Havoc supposed, and he could only picture the Fullmetal Alchemist giving Mustang hell for it.
Roy coughed harshly, realizing dimly that he was now awake. Something about the air tasted vaguely of smoke, but he was too tired to be bothered by it. For all he knew, he was still dreaming.
Havoc cocked his head and smirked slightly, "You know, sir, curled up like that, you look like a little kid."
All at once, fever-bright eyes snapped open. "H-Havoc…?!" His sudden outburst agitated his throat further, causing Roy to cough, "Whad the hell?!" He struggled to sit up, trembling from weakness.
"Easy there, chief. Your fever's been pretty high this morning." Havoc said calmly, "Lieutenant Hawkeye said you were completely delirious."
"Ugh…You've got to be kiddi'g be." Roy murmured, nose twitching with a sniffle.
"Nope. She said you were living in the past." Havoc said easily, dropping his lighter back into his pocket, "And based on what you've been muttering in your sleep, I don't doubt her."
Roy shot him his best attempt at a death glare, before his expression crumpled all at once, "Hehh…Ehhh…Huukt'chUU! Hhpt'CHUuu!" He did his best to smother the sneezes into the blankets.
"Anyway, I'll bet you're wondering why I'm here, and more importantly, where lieutenant Hawkeye went." Havoc continued in a good natured tone.
That had Roy's attention.
Havoc smirked, "Lieutenant Hawkeye went to the drug store to get medicine for a certain sickly superior. Because you were so delirious at the time, she asked me to come over while she went on her errand."
Roy was silent as he processed that. He wasn't sure whether he should feel embarrassed or even slightly annoyed to have been effectively 'babysat'. He realized his mind was too tired and fever-addled to even begin to decide.
And so he heaved a sigh, reaching up to rub his temples, "…Thadks for filli'g be id."
"Not a problem, chief." Havoc replied. "But you do owe me one for this."
"Oh?" Roy glanced back at him, blinking slowly.
"I haven't had a good smoke in over half an hour." Havoc lamented.
Roy smirked wanly, knowing his subordinate was simply trying to establish a normal conversation, "By deepest apologies." He replied, tone gravelly.
Hawkeye would probably return within the hour, but Havoc decided to make it his task to keep Roy alert and talking for a little while. The flame alchemist had seemed so frantic in his nightmares; it only seemed right to give him a chance to consciously calm himself.
Author's Note:
And here we have chapter 8. Sorry it took so long, dear readers. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to lay this chapter out. Believe it or not, I initially had no plans of making Mustang delirious in this chapter. (Then I listened to the wicked muse that perched on my shoulder.)
Anyway, I hope this chapter is enjoyable and not too farfetched. I really do picture Mustang as the type of guy to have practically no medicine around the house. (Quite in contrast to how I picture Britain in my Hetalia fics! *laughs*) I'm not sure how many chapters are left to this fic; I actually haven't planned it all out. *nervous laughter*
Reviews inspire me and make me happy! See you in chapter 9!