day 3 - pressure

summary: the memory of war overwhelms them

rated: t | words: 1939 | tags: pre-canon, ishval civil war, post-war, angst

Get it together. Get it together. Don't lose everything now –

"Riza?"

Her entire body froze. The only movement in the room was the steady fall of her tears down her already wet cheeks.

The call was far away – it sounded as though it came from underwater – but she'd recognise that voice anywhere.

What was he doing here?

He wasn't… He wasn't supposed to arrive back at base for another few days. She'd overheard…

Shaking hands unwrapped from around her knees and she clumsily wiped her face clear of any wetness. Her breath hitched as she willed herself to stop and to relax.

Since returning from Ishval her body had been coiled tight. She hadn't let herself relax or be still. If she did, she'd crumble, and she could not – would not – show any weakness. Not in front of those who'd returned back to reality far too easily, or her superiors. Riza was sure they'd see right through her, that she was struggling with all she'd done. In all honesty, she was unsure how anyone could be keeping it together. By some miracle, she'd managed to keep the mask in place.

Four days after returning from the war, it seemed it was time for everything to catch up with her, whether she wanted it to or not. The mask was slipping, cracking, and there was nothing she could do about it.

There was a massive pressure sitting upon her chest. She wanted to scream and yell, to let it all out. Like if she made enough noise, it would let loose something within her. Give her enough of break that she could breathe properly, but the barrack walls weren't the thickest (only the cheapest masonry for the Amestrian military soldiers), so there was nothing she could do. No escape.

Even though she felt she didn't deserve an escape after her time in the desert, Riza felt like she was drowning, and her body was responding accordingly. It was trying to do anything to get back to the surface to fill her lungs with oxygen. But the memories of flames scorching dust and flesh, and the memory of her actions, were choking her. Constricting her airways and drying out her throat.

She felt close to buckling beneath it.

"Riza?" A knock came at the bathroom door. It was a gentle call. An encouragement.

She didn't deserve gentleness or care.

Why couldn't he leave her alone?

Shoring up everything within her – every line of defence and reinforcing every crack in the mask – Riza unfurled her body from its tight ball and stood. She climbed out of the bath and shivered as the cold tile permeated her socks.

As she was burning inside, back in the desert, reality and the world around her was freezing.

She couldn't seem to get a heat in her since returning to East City. She was made of cold glass, close to shattering.

Riza couldn't even remember climbing into the bath. She couldn't remember much since she'd opened the door to her room at the barracks. Apparently she'd removed her boots and went straight to the bathroom. To hide.

It took a few moments to gather herself. To his credit, her visitor never called out to her again. He gave her the chance to do whatever she needed to do.

The bathroom door opened, and Major Mustang almost fell through it. He'd been stooped, his ear angled towards the door to try and listen but managed to catch himself by clapping his hand on the door frame in time.

Their eyes locked and Riza felt a crack shatter right down the middle of her.

They'd grown up together, played together… A budding love had bloomed between them.

And then he'd gone to the desert. They'd both gone.

They'd already spoken amongst the sand and the ashes, but seeing him now, away from it all and in a place of somewhat normality, surged everything back to the surface.

She hated him. Despised what he'd done. He'd lied to her – his grand, noble plans had been anything but. And she still loved him at the same time.

"Hi," he greeted, breathlessly. A wrinkle appeared in between his eyebrows as he peered at her in concern and Riza almost broke there and then.

"Hi." Her voice sounded terrible, even to her own ears.

Roy shifted in place to move a foot closer. He angled his body towards her and dipped his head to bring it closer to hers. This time when spoke, his voice was lower as if someone may overhear them.

But that was impossible.

There was no one else here. There never would be again. Not for her.

Not even the ghost of the young man who'd spent his childhood with her. He'd died too when he left to join the military and used the knowledge granted to him for ill.

"Riza?"

That was all it took.

She should have been stronger. She should've been able to hold out for longer so she could send him away and process by herself, but one look from this man… The only person in the world who knew her…

Riza unravelled. The pressure overwhelmed her. It came crashing down in a wave.

Roy's expression morphed from one of concern to one of fear and horror. As the first tear tripped over her eyelid and down her cheek, worry returned and she was immediately wrapped up within his arms.

She hated it. Being trapped in those arms and having those hands stroke a soothing pattern up and down her spine to comfort her. And she loved it too.

Riza's entire body shuddered. Her knees weakened and before shame at her breakdown could overcome her, everything… everything from her time in the desert erupted. It spilled from her in the form of huge tears, which soaked through Roy's uniform. She could feel it dampening beneath her cheek.

"I c- can't," she sobbed. Her hands lifted to grip onto his jacket. Her fingers tangled in the thick wool, finding purchase and she was torn between shoving him away and bringing him even closer.

She didn't know what to do. How to move forward. Not yet, not while everything was so fresh and she felt so untethered from all she thought she knew, all she believed in.

"Riza," Roy hushed her. He cradled the side of her head against him and rocked them back and forth. At some point they'd slid down to the floor, but Riza couldn't remember moving.

It seemed to be the pattern of the day.

In this moment, she cried everything to him. Poured everything out to try and at least purge something from her. Something that would give her lungs just that little bit more room to expand and breathe.

He placed his cheek against the top of her head as he held her, keeping her from flying apart completely.

Finally, after an age, her sobs slowed. The shudders wracking her body were no more, and she stilled.

In the aftermath of it all, she finally became still.

The pressure remained. It haunted her, and although she'd been desperate to try and gain a break, Riza knew it would never leave her. A cry on the floor would not solve her problems. It would not bring anybody back or help her atone. However she had to admit, a tiny part of her did feel marginally better within the arms of the man she loved. Even if just for a second.

As she wanted to rage at him, kick and scream and yell at what he'd done with the knowledge bestowed upon him, she still loved him. Still found comfort in his embrace and his voice. He was clinging to her as tightly as she was to him.

Two lost and broken souls, holding one another on the cold floor of the military barracks.

Roy's hand ran gently over her hair. He brushed the short strands away from her temple and pressed a kiss there. His lips were soft against her skin and Riza squeezed her eyes closed tight at the soft contact.

He'd never once been so bold, but in this moment of vulnerability and comfort, Riza would revel in it. She appreciated it when she felt she shouldn't. It was just one more thing to add to the pile of shame already heaped upon her shoulders.

Her feelings would always be complicated and tangled up when it came to this man.

"Can you stand?"

Riza held on tighter to his jacket. She wasn't ready to leave the confines of his arms and the comfort of his chest just yet. Her fingertips held on so tight, the ends turned white with the pressure.

"Do you want to…" Roy cleared his throat. "Do you want to stay here for a bit longer?"

Another age passed, then Riza nodded.

"All right then."

Roy shifted beside her, and an embarrassing sound left Riza's throat. If she wasn't already so raw, her face would have flamed with mortification. He crossed his legs and pulled Riza into his lap, and not once did she let go of his jacket. It was keeping her tethered to her sanity. To reality. He was keeping her tethered.

As Riza settled into his lap, Roy pressed another kiss to the side of her head. He rocked them both gently side to side.

"I'm sorry, Riza." His broken whisper filled the room as his tears mingled with hers. "I'm so sorry."

Riza sniffed. Her head burrowed deeper into his uniform jacket.

"Me too, Roy."

Two lost souls remained huddled together on the cold floor. Riza's shivers finally slowed as Roy's hands gently caressed her arms and back. Her lungs expanded enough to suck in a deep, shaky breath. The burden pressing on her chest lightened just enough that it no longer consumed every waking thought.

He'd helped her. Soothed her, even just for a moment.

As day bled into night Riza was lifted. Strong arms and capable hands moved her from the floor to her bed. These hands were reminiscent of ones she once knew. Ones who'd comforted her and helped her, before it all went to shit in the burning sands.

They shouldn't. Shouldn't find comfort in such intimate touches. Didn't deserve to feel lips brushing against skin. Muffled cries and moans replaced the sounds of sorrow.

They both didn't know anything anymore. Not how life would be after being tools in the war. Didn't know the step forward. But they did know each other. Riza knew the feel of Roy beneath her hands and knew exactly what to do to make his breath hitch and his skin flush pink. Roy had mapped out her body with his hands, his lips, his tongue. He knew how to make her cry out. They knew how to connect.

This was not healthy. It was not good or deserved.

But they had each other.

They always would.

"We'll face this together, Riza, I promise." Roy's breath tickled the skin of her neck. He sealed his promise with a kiss there as his body crowded over hers. "I swear to you, we will."

Riza clung onto his shoulders even tighter. "I promise too." She pressed her mouth to his hot shoulder, feeling the muscles tense beneath her.

"We'll navigate through it."

"Until the very end."

"Until the very end," Roy repeated, breathing it into her skin.

They found each other once more instead of succumbing to the guilt and horrors. They granted themselves just one night until they knew how to proceed and find their paths once more.

But they'd find them again. Together.