Chapter 6 - Days 135-148
The first day of work didn't go too well for Roy. Arriving too late, having to enter a meeting mid-way through, enduring the scolding from an equally high-ranking soldier. What a humiliation. He cheered himself up with the images from his wild, restless dreams: Riza nursing. Their baby napping in the dog basket. Their baby saying its first words. It didn't bring his focus back, on the contrary. Still, he couldn't stay late, so he took the piles of paperwork home, working into the night.
The second day was worse. Roy had been signing and filling out everything by himself so that her handwriting couldn't be found anywhere. She had helped him though, sat with him at the coffee table until one in the morning. He saved up that memory for after the first meeting of the day. Sinking down in his chair, preparing for the next conference, he imagined her finger pointing to all the right boxes he had to tick.
The phone ringing interrupted his fantasy. And just when he had gotten his rhythm back!
"Major General Roy Mustang speaking," he answered, slightly annoyed. He liked hearing his new rank but he didn't like saying it. Too arrogant.
Any thoughts of work came to an abrupt halt when hearing Riza's voice on the other end. Roy stiffened, swallowing. From the corner of his eye, noticed the way Havoc sat up slightly. Breda also let his pen sink, alarmed.
It took Roy a handsome amount of self-discipline to give a relaxed appearance. "Of course. Don't worry, I'll be right there." He hung up before she could change her mind. She hadn't used her Elizabeth voice, but since the Hawkeye everyone knew sounded by far firmer than she had just now, he hoped that anyone from the military listening in wouldn't recognise her. The more minutes in a call, the more suspicious. "I'm going out for a while," he announced.
Havoc scratched his chin. "Now?" He glanced at the clock above the door. "What about the meeting? The Lieutenant Colonel—"
"The Lieutenant Colonel will simply have to suck it up," Roy growled. He didn't need a reminder of who had called in the meeting, and he certainly didn't feel like explaining himself in length, delaying his departure. He was uneasy enough with having to leave then and there. Riza's quiet plea was only adding to that. "Besides," Roy grabbed his car keys, "he likes to hear himself talk the most."
And with that, he was out the door.
He didn't see his men exchanging dubious frowns. Neither did he hear when the phone rang again.
"Major General Roy Mustang's office," Havoc answered.
There was silence for an instant. Then, "Did he leave?" Havoc's eyes lit up, but his features were far from bright. She sounded stressed and insecure. "Please fetch him back, it's not that important," she unhappily asked. Wow, she sounded different. Without their worries and speculations about her long absence, Havoc might not have been able to identify her at all.
"He's already out the door." Havoc took the phone to the window. "He's getting in the car now. Are you okay?" He had to ask.
She hesitated. "He doesn't have to come."
"Yeah, I'm not fetching him," Havoc decided. For whatever reason, she sounded as if she needed the man. Ishval, Havoc theorised, not for the first time. Their stay must have brought back bad memories, or perhaps it really was some kind of flu. It had sounded hollow when Roy had made the excuse, but hearing her now… "Is there anything I can do? Are you hurt?"
The connection crackled lightly. Havoc listened closely.
"Sorry," Riza whispered. Then bleeping – she had hung up. Havoc stared at the receiver for another moment before putting it down. Breda watched him with the same stupefied confusion.
"Uhm," Fuery entered the office. He studied their faces, becoming unsettled. "Where's the General? The meeting is about to start. Several people asked for him…" he faded out when seeing the horror unfold on Havoc's face. It wasn't that significant of a meeting, but he never missed them. Roy was very careful to be present to whatever he could possibly be invited to. He wanted to know what was going on, who talked about what in which way. He needed to know whom he could trust, who was harmless and where to be cautious. The Lieutenant Colonel was of the latter category.
Yet now, Roy had been so fast, he hadn't even heard the second call hardly two minutes later.
Havoc ran his palm down his face. "She's…" He puffed out a helpless breath. "Guys, I think she's dying." He met Breda's eyes that widened with shock. Fuery frowned fiercely. "That was Hawkeye just now, I'm pretty certain," he backpaddled slightly, gesturing at the phone.
"And he left, just like that," Breda went on.
"Just like that," Fuery echoed, stunned.
A tight silence settled over the office. They didn't speak much until lunch, neither at the canteen. Especially not at the canteen. Even if it hadn't been made such a hush-hush topic by Roy, the canteen felt wrong for discussing something so private. She was their friend, after the events of the Promised Day more than ever.
Their sorrow dragged on for another week. Roy never mentioned it. Usually, he was prudent to inform his men about what was important; keep them up to date as backup if whatever he was getting into required a helping hand. Now he said nothing. He frequently left without a word, giving them meagre excuses should a superior ask about his brief absences. They stretched into half days sometimes, with or without smuggled paperwork.
When one Friday night, after he had extended Hawkeye's leave of absence significantly, Roy was held up in an obligatory, crucial diplomatic dinner with the representative of Aerugo.
Havoc turned a left instead of right. He contemplated whether to go to her place – which he had done before, twice in fact – but if he went to Roy's place, he could always pretend he was dropping off some files. That, and he was by now convinced that she was staying there.
He rang the bell. Hayate's barking gave her away. It stopped almost right away. He couldn't hear her shush him, but there was no other explanation. No one answered. He rang again, waited for a good five minutes. Still nothing. And so, for the first time since receiving it after the Promised Day, Havoc used his copy of the key to let himself in.
His palm was sweating when the lock clicked. "Hey, chief," he called to let her know it was him. She would shoot him otherwise, he feared. No answer. Slowly, cautiously, Havoc pushed the door open. "I guess you're not back from that dinner yet," he loudly said, "so I'll just leave these files in the living room."
Silence. No resistance. She wasn't in the living room then.
Doing as he had announced, Havoc continued his monologues. "Hope you don't mind if I help myself to a drink…" he chanced. He was even slower when advancing on the kitchen. He could have sworn to have heard Hayate's paws on the tiles. His pulse was accelerating. She had to be there, she just had to be.
His shoe was on the threshold to the kitchen when she gave herself away.
"Don't come in here!" Riza shrilly said. Havoc froze in place, hovering foot and all. "Don't… look," she mumbled. She sounded as if she was far below, somewhere in the corner.
"My eyes are shut," he said.
She gave half a sigh, a forced, malcontent one. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Clothes rustled in the corner. She got up, cautiously crossing the room. He could hear the sucking of bare feet which made him wonder if he had, in all these years, ever seen Hawkeye barefooted. A snout touched his leg, then a hand his arm. Havoc ran a finger over the cloth she gave him.
"You're too tall, I can't reach," she muttered. He really had to strain his ears to be able to understand. Not even in undercover missions would she speak so softly. It was heart-breaking.
"Oh." Havoc caught on. He tried not to see it as a lack of trust towards his promise, fixing the napkin as a blindfold with a tight knot behind his head. Perhaps she would lead him somewhere secret to reveal what was going on?
Riza showed no sign of revelations or going anywhere. He couldn't hear her move at all for another moment, as if waiting.
He cleared his throat. "Sorry I came by without announcing myself." The Hawkeye he knew would have long accused him of pretence; that he had snuck in with ulterior motives: finding her. It was scary that she didn't do so now. "Are you okay?" he asked outright. She didn't reply immediately. "Are you staying here permanently?" he added. "The General's place sure could use some tidying up," he laughed cautiously. Riza said nothing. When he couldn't even feel her gaze on him, he asked, "You still there?"
"Yes," she quietly gave herself away. "Sorry."
Bare feet squelched towards the counters. Havoc listened to the water splashing into what must have been the kettle. Sure enough, a moment later, the stove clicked into ignition.
"May I sit?" he asked when the faint rattling of cutlery faded into silence.
"Of course," Riza's voice returned. Havoc reached out to where he suspected the closest chair. He hesitated. She was close, maybe on her way to assist due to his blindness, then reconsidered. He found the chair on his own, seating himself, facing her. He turned when hearing his mug on the table and her weight in the opposite chair. Neither touched their teas. "I am," Riza conceded after a long time, "staying here," she clarified.
"Good." Havoc nodded. "But the military still pays you on leave, right? I'll have a word with them if they don't," he threatened. "They can't expect you to move in with a friend."
Riza gasped lightly. "Oh," she stood up, "that's right, my rent. I'm still paying it." She began pacing. "I can't use up all this money for nothing."
"Then quit," Havoc cautiously threw in.
"I can't," Riza nearly panted. It made his heart beat faster again, her rising unease fuelling his in turn. "No, someone will notice. I'm not supposed to be here, they'll know. But if I don't quit— I'm never there anyway. My neighbours might tell." Havoc winced when he heard her slump next to the door. His hand flew to his eyes. "Don't take it off!" Riza shrieked.
"Okay, I won't, I won't," Havoc lowered his hand as if lowering a gun, "I swear, I won't take it off, just—" he stammered for words. Nothing was making sense. Just what was happening to her? This felt like a hostage situation rather than visiting a colleague on sick leave. "Can I… come over?" He couldn't bear the image of her cramped into the corner, helpless. That wasn't the Hawkeye he knew. For a second, he was grateful that Roy was the one rushing in and out of the office, lacking sleep and nerves. Seeing, at least hearing Riza Hawkeye close to a breakdown was terrifying.
Waiting until her breathing was calmer, Havoc slowly crawled down from his chair. He asked again, receiving a small hum. Feeling his way over, finding the wall – Hayate finding his face midway through – then the general warmth of Riza's body, Havoc sat shoulder to shoulder with her.
He didn't need a clock to tell him that a minute had passed. He let another go by. She didn't feel frail and she didn't seem in pain with their shoulders touching.
"Remember that training exercise with the North?" Havoc eventually piped up. She remained quiet, but he thought to perceive her nodding. "We were four against one. We had almost won, outnumbering them greatly, but we hadn't taken into account that their last man standing was Buccaneer," he laughed with a hint of feigned bitterness. They had been shaking like leaves. "He found Breda and me just like this," he moved his shoulder against hers, "and I thought we were done for, just when you shot him in the back with the rubber ammunition."
He didn't know, but Riza smiled a small smile to herself. The silence was lighter now, if only by a tad. Still, he had to break it.
"Hey, Riza." Havoc inhaled in preparation. They had speculated about it a lot, but saying it in her presence felt even more severe. "You're not… dying, are you?" His voice cracked ever so slightly, so he pressed on. "I think someone mentioned your parents, but we weren't sure – I mean I know you're an orphan, but not why specifically, like, if you maybe…" he slowed his rambling, "inherited… some incurable illness…?"
Riza sighed. Her shoulders slumped. He hadn't realised just how tense they had been. "No, I'm not dying," she said. The way she said it sounded so feeble though – not as if she was lying, but as if… well, as if she was dying. Or fearing that it might happen anyway. As if having come to terms with the sad truth of it, unafraid but regretful.
All Havoc knew was that he didn't know what to believe anymore.
"Sometimes it does feel like it," Riza mumbled. Havoc frowned. "But it's not that, I just—" She bit her tongue. He heard her supress a grunt of pain, that was how hard she had interrupted herself. "I can't— oh," she raked her hands through her hair, "I trust you, I do. And I could— no," again, she cut herself off. "The truth is… I'm—"
"It's okay," Havoc reached out to place his hand on her knee, ultimately not daring. It hung between them, fingers curling back into his palm. "You don't have to tell me. I don't want you worrying about anything more than already. I'm just glad I got to see you – in a way." He scratched his head, careful to leave the blindfold in place. "And that you're not dying."
"Sorry," Riza breathed. "I need to lie down for a minute." She sank down next to him.
"Here?" Havoc's frown returned.
"Just for a minute."
"Okay." He couldn't keep his tone from sounding dubious. Her voice was already coming from below on the cold tiles. Hayate trotted over. "Can I get you anything? Water? A pillow?" Maybe she was having hypoglycaemia and her tea would help. A spoon of honey – if only he could take off the blindfold.
"This is fine, thank you," Riza said.
Havoc let out a short sigh. He raked his brain for diseases that only sort of incapacitated someone. In no way could he link her behaviour to Ishval – hiding in the corner, yes, staying with the General who had also been traumatised by the war, sure, but this? Had she just experienced a mild panic attack, merely by remembering her rent and Havoc had missed it?
When after a while she didn't sit up again, he joined her with his back flat on the floor. His hand brushed her arm unintentionally, and he was surprised when she patted it reassuringly. He took it. He couldn't help himself. For weeks, the office had been thick with tension. Now here she was, her fate almost more uncertain to him than before but at least she was there.
Havoc counted a good five minutes until he heard the lock of the front door rattle. Hayate got up from where he had been curled on Riza's chest and neck. He waded over Havoc, tail wagging. He didn't bark, putting them both at ease.
Roy halted in the doorway to the kitchen.
"What the…?"
