So my PC spontaneously decided that executing any kind of programme wasn't for him anymore two days before my assignment. Isn't life fun? (I'm not gonna make it past thirty...)

Anyway, reset the boy completely (nearly took it apart too), but was able to save my holy stories. Oh, and the assignment too :D

Thank you guys for your patience!

Chapter 17 - Day 191

Roy took the stairs two steps at a time. He didn't bother taking off his coat or boots. The bedroom door was open, revealing an empty bed so he made a beeline for the bathroom. A young man in tow.

Katie was doing the nightshift at the hospital, he had said. Claimed to be her boyfriend and also a specialised, nearly‑finished student of medicine, having offered, no, insisted to help the moment Roy had introduced himself. The boy had pledged on his father's good name that he wouldn't say a word, and anyway, Roy didn't have much of a choice.

He didn't have time to acquaint Hayate with the potential new ally either. Hayate's fur bristled where he protectively stood in the open doorway.

"Havoc!" Roy called. "The dog."

But Havoc didn't come. Roy all but stumbled into the bathroom. His heart stopped.

Riza was lying on the floor, on her side. Motionless. She was covered with a bathrobe and some five towels, another two spread out beneath her. Dripping wet, her hair stuck to her neck and shoulder but had been wiped away from her face. She was pale and flushed at the same time, eyes shut.

Her pyjama bottoms hung over the heater, soaked. At the lack of more towels, Havoc had propped up her feet on a pile of toilet paper rolls that were now equally soaked. He was crouching in front of her, one hand constantly beneath her nose to check for breathing while the other clumsily attempted to unbutton the drenched shirt.

"You're back." His expression washed over with relief.

"The dog," Roy repeated, and Havoc gladly scooted away, catching an upset Hayate around the chest to free the door. "Thanks," Roy panted, dropping to his knees, "what happened?"

"She fainted," Havoc reported. He and Hayate watched the strange young man enter and sit beside Roy. Hayate had stopped growling, but his tail stayed still with tension. "She breathed again when I shook her. She shivered so much. I refilled warm water, but she wouldn't stop."

Roy moved around Riza, slipping the last buttons open underneath the bathrobe, bundling her into it before anyone could catch a glimpse of her back. Her arm was slack when he passed it through the sleeve. When he squeezed her hand, he thought she squeezed back. He held his breath.

Havoc kept on babbling, eyes flickering nervously. "I took her out of the tub and gave her something to drink. She said she was feeling dizzy. I didn't want to leave the room," he drawled, cringing at the pile of ruined toilet paper. "I just didn't want her fainting again…"

"You did everything just right," the young man complimented with an encouraging nod.

Roy postponed waiting for another squeeze, allowing a small sigh. "Havoc, this is Katie's boyfriend. He's a medical student."

"Thomas Knox." Thomas bowed his head. "I specialise in Caesarean. Well, I will specialise in it once I finish my studies next spring." He turned back to his patient. From the bag he had brought, he took out a tourniquet, then a stethoscope. The latter, he fumbled under the bathrobe, placing it on Riza's sternum. "Miss…?"

"Hawkeye," Roy said. He shuffled around Riza and cupped her face. "Riza." His hand grasped hers again, pressing it to where his heart rapped frantically against his ribcage. "Riza." He turned to Havoc. "Was she awake?"

Havoc grunted affirmatively. "Yeah, she—"

"Roy…" Riza's voice was but a wisp of wind.

The entire room froze. Hayate's tail wagged. They collectively let out one giant sigh, and even Hayate's chest expanded into Havoc's arms.

"Could I ask you to take a deep breath?" Thomas asked Riza. Roy squeezed her hand and she complied. Thomas shifted the stethoscope. "Once more." Again, she did the best she could. He nodded. Taking out the earpieces, he caught Roy's eyes. "I'm going to give her some acetaminophen. She's dehydrated and overheating. Cool cloths, thin clothes and sheets. Lots of water. I'll write you a list of yeses and noes when it comes to medicine in emergencies. Oh, and I'd like to make a CBC." He reached into his bag, finding an intravenous access and needle. "Which week?"

Roy blinked, then shrugged somewhat bashfully. "Twenty‑five?"

"Mm-hm." Thomas began scribbling on a small notepad.

Roy kept holding Riza's hand. He ran his fingers through her hair, mostly to calm himself. All eyes crept along the line of rising blood each time Thomas filled a small container. He adhered a ball of cotton to the crook of her arm once done.

With the atmosphere slowly lighting up, Havoc sank back against the wall with another huge sigh. Hayate freed himself without resistance. Briefly, he sniffed Thomas and his bag, then nuzzled Riza's face. It tickled her nose. She wiggled it, weakly pulling a face, her hand twitching inside Roy's. A good sign.

Havoc gathered himself up. He brought Roy a dry shirt for Riza, then went back to the bedroom to strip the sweaty bed.

Roy could only watch for another moment. His body sagged heavily with receding adrenaline, limbs numbing. "Thank you for everything," he told Thomas. "I'd be happy to pay you the hour or part thereof. What does a full‑fledged doctor charge these days?"

But Thomas hummed negative. "It must be fate that we met this way. I've been meaning to help you out however I can, General Mustang." Roy frowned, puzzled. Thomas smiled. "You were a friend to my father when me and mum weren't there. I'll always be grateful for that."

Roy laughed scantly. He knew he should have trusted his instincts. Knox wasn't too common a name.

"I think you father was a better friend to me than the other way around." He held out his hand. Thomas dropped pen and paper, his smile renewed. He firmly shook Roy's hand. "But I'm honoured to have your support. I'm sure your father is very proud of the man you're becoming."

"He is, he just doesn't say so very often," Thomas laughed. "And don't worry, my lips are sealed." He glanced at Riza.

Roy's gaze drifted too. With his other hand, he hadn't let go of hers for a second.

Thomas ripped off the note he'd written, leaving it at a safe distance from the drenched towels. He used the tourniquet on Riza's arm, then again when Roy wrapped her up in his arms, sitting her up against himself. She didn't grip his arms like she had earlier, but he could feel her head sway somewhat consciously before settling against his shoulder.

Roy gave her the pill Thomas had luckily had on him, and she refused to let go of the glass of water, not until it was empty to the last drop.

"Water," Thomas repeated kindly, "or tea. Whatever makes her drink a lot."

"Rosemary lemonade," Roy chuckled. "She can down four litres of that in a single day."

"Cold drinks are fine," Thomas consented, "only I wouldn't overdo it with the acid on an empty stomach."

"Right." Roy wouldn't let go of the idea any time soon though. He never did with good ideas. How many years had it been since she had last made that drink? Had they still been at her father's house, wild mint and rosemary overgrowing outside the porch?

"Don't do it," Riza whispered. Roy's ears perked. Thomas momentarily paused closing his bag. "They're expensive."

Roy smiled softly. "They're healthy."

"At least wait for summer," she rasped. And for her stomach to be fuller, he knew. Once she was back on her feet, he would get an earful for buying her lemons in early winter. A risk he was willing to take.

Exhausted to the very bone marrow, Riza wasn't of much help with getting up. Roy didn't push her to be. Weaving one arm below her knees and the other around her back, he nearly felt an anxious shock pass through him. The Promised Day. Her slack body bleeding out mercilessly. Their current position resembled that harrowing moment in the tunnel too closely for his liking.

He swallowed, pretending at least in Thomas' presence that everything was fine.

And it was. When they left the bathroom, the mood had improved so drastically from when they had entered it, Roy almost felt lightheaded. He carried Riza to bed. Havoc had just finished putting fresh linen on her mattress, the old sheets soggy at his feet.

"Would you like some tea?" Roy asked Thomas.

"Oh, thank you. Would you mind terribly if I used the bathroom first?"

"Of course not." Roy hid his relief under his breath. Havoc, he could blank out for a minute. With a guest – someone he now owed a great deal – he had felt rushed. Now he had time, lowering Riza with exceeding care, slipping on a pair of casual slacks from his wardrobe. She moved only when he tucked her in under the blanket. Her hand escaped, reaching for his shirt. "My love," Roy murmured. She gave a small sound of approval when he kissed her lips.

"Cuddle me?"

"I will. Soon," he promised. Riza opened her eyes, the longing frown and shimmering leftover tears breaking his heart. Apologetically, he pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

"I can make the tea too," Havoc piped up from the side. "Or guard her in the meantime," he added somewhat fleetly. Eagerly.

Roy regarded him for a moment – still in his improvised sleepwear, still slightly shaken. He hadn't messed up, not at all, but there was still a part in him who wanted to make up for the crisis. A part that needed confirmation of her wellbeing. "Thank you." Roy stood. "Also for earlier."

"I'm just so glad I was doing the right thing." Havoc deflated dramatically.

Roy left quickly at the sound of the bathroom door, taking it as an excuse. For a second, Havoc had reminded him too much of himself. Agitated, overboiling with pent‑up emotions, the urge to tell someone. Riza might have been deprived of the mundane normality of everyday small talk, but Roy realised more and more how he was lacking a genuine heart‑to‑heart talk that wasn't with her.

Hughes…

"So," Roy said, pouring four cups of tea, "following in your father's footsteps."

"Not really." Thomas sheepishly tapped his toes. "In a way, yes. He's the one who inspired me to take this path, but, well, I chose the other end of the spectrum."

"Pathology didn't tempt you with its murder victims and family tragedies?"

"The latter," Thomas admitted. "I could never take it. When I see someone cry, I cry," he laughed. "Even now, everyone at the hospital says I'm too empathetic with the patients. But I love being a part of their new chapter, even if their stories continue without me. Sometimes, listening is really all they need. The things primigravida tell me – or even secundigravida— uh, first‑time mothers. And so on. I've had something close to mediation once because the woman refused to tell her husband what she told me."

"She didn't want to upset him."

"Exactly!" Thomas laughed again. "She didn't care if I was still a student, she had to get it out."

It made Roy think of what Havoc had told him. Riza was terrified of labour; of giving birth. So much so that she confessed to Havoc in her feverish haze. Not to Roy. His jaw tightened miserably at the thought.

Perhaps if he was more honest about his own sorrows. How he wasn't sure at all about convincing Grumman, how he didn't believe anymore that there was a solution where she could keep her job. How he feared she wouldn't feel attached enough to stay home with the child…

As if to save Roy from bursting like Thomas' patients did, Havoc descended the stairs.

"Oh, good." He took one of the untouched cups of tea.

Roy went to grab a tray for both remaining cups, loading it with a glass and then a carafe of water too.

Havoc understood, replacing the third cup atop it. Riza needed it the most. "Hey, I can also drive Thomas home – I mean Dr Knox," Havoc winked, "Junior." Thomas snorted, delighted. "I was thinking that if you two are settled for what's left of the night, I can drop Thomas off and pack some stuff from at home for tomorrow. Remember you can't miss Langley's vote."

"Don't remind me," Roy groaned. A glance at the clock only trampled his spirits further. Three hours till six. Then it meant getting ready, walking the dog while it was still dark and empty outside… "Get some sleep while you're at it."

"Will do." Havoc saluted casually. "I'll bring the car back before 0630 hours." He left for the hall, and after saying goodbye, Thomas followed. The front door fell shut. The usual perked ears were missing, no claws scratching down the hall. Hayate was busy - busy guarding Riza.

Roy let out a long sigh as he climbed the stairs for the final time that night. Thomas had said that he wouldn't blow the whistle on them, but Roy wasn't certain whether Thomas understood that the pregnancy and the fraternisation laws were the problem. If he knew who Riza Hawkeye was – who she was to Roy. Who she absolutely mustn't have been to Roy.

The cups clinked faintly when Roy set down the tray on her nightstand. Riza stirred. Not much; not enough to move again before he had rounded the bed and put on a new shirt. But she did when he had lied down, turning painstakingly, determinately until she could bury her nose against his carotid.

"How are you feeling?"

"Warm."

"Warm," he echoed. Warm was better than hot. He felt for her feet beneath the sheets, finding their temperature not alarming against his own. The slacks were riding up to her shins. He grabbed the hem with his toes, tugging them down. Riza smiled.

"Thank you." She kissed the skin closest to her. He wound his arms around her in response, ignoring the fever‑owed dampness already seeping into the back of her shirt. "I'm sorry. All I do is cause you trouble."

Roy kissed her tenderly. "You know it could never outweigh the joy you bring me."