Fic update - The Hour of Separation
Nov. 4th, 2006 09:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessThe Hour of Separation
Shades of Grey Series #6 - Shade Mist
D M Evans
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition.
Pairing - Roy/Riza, Ed/Winry, Maes/Gracia
Time Line - This has elements of the anime up to about #25 and definite spoilers for the manga past #38 and beyond. More manga-based than not. However, the main arc of the series came before all the Roy and Riza history was published and so this can be considered majorly AU as far as that is concerned.
Rating - FRM
Summary - Riza’s life takes an unexpected turn and Roy’s past catches up with him.
Warning - dark themes, later chapters contain mention of torture and rape.
Author’s Note - This series was started long before the lovely Ishbal arc so it’s AU for the Mustang and Hawkeye history and there is no real way around that I’m afraid. Also, the Ravensdales are original characters that have small recurring roles in the series.
Series can be found (They have varying ratings, please read only those appropriate to your age group, thanks)
#1 The Roots of Violence
#2 Ashes & Bone
#3 Why They Call It Falling
#4 Point of Fracture
#5 With Silence
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Kahlil Gibran
Chapter One
Chapter Two
After taking a nip of whiskey from the flask hidden in a drawer, Roy started chewing the mints Jenna had made him. As if he could really hide the whiskey on his breath. This day was awful, flat out terrible. Not only had he missed the fact Riza was so obviously sick, and he could kick himself for that, but when Maes had called under his new identity of Julien Camden, he didn’t have good news.
Kimblee was on Maes’ trail. He didn’t know if the Crimson Alchemist knew Hughes’ true identity or if the investigating Maes was doing now had garnered the unwelcome attention. Maes managed to do a little table turning and had listened in on Kimblee, finding out for certain Kimblee had someone he answered to here in Central. The problem was Hughes didn’t know who held Kimbley's leash this time. Neither Roy nor Hughes were willing to take chances with Elicia and Gracia’s safety. Roy would call Armstrong later and see what they could cook up in order to be sure Hughes’ family was protected. Mustang would even send his men in the day time if he had to.
What was really eating at him was the idea that someone within the military was helping that bastard, Kimblee. Roy had always wondered who was helping Gran all those years. They never did find out who had betrayed him and Maes all those years ago near the Drachmaian border. Gran was probably behind it but they never did find the woman who helped him. Mustang had suspicions but she had gone so underground that he hadn’t heard of her in a couple of years.
Roy shook his head and filled out the waiting paperwork. He’d point to it later as a ‘see, I’m sorry that I didn’t see you were sick. Aren’t I a good boy though?’ Usually poor Riza had to all but shove her gun in his face to make him do his work. He was a bad man sometimes.
The phone rang just as Roy was just getting ready to leave for the day. He debating picking up, wanting to get over to Hawkeye’s and see how she was doing. Finally duty won out. “Mustang here,” he said gruffly, hoping the Elrics hadn’t baited Scar out into the open.
“Camden. You know who is at the Wobbly Boot. So am I,” Hughes said simply.
“Don’t let him see you. I’ll be right there,” Roy said, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t let his friend face Kimblee alone but he felt guilty about not going to see Riza when she was ill.
“Take the time to gussy up,” Camden replied.
“Understood.” Mustang hung up, Hughes’ code words in his ear. His friend wanted Mustang to come in disguise such as he could manage.
Roy went home, put on some older clothing, nothing that would stand out. He used his alchemy to go redheaded. He looked like a ginger cat, especially with his almond eyes. Maybe from a distance in a dark smoky bar, he’d look like Julien Camden’s cousin. Hughes had gone red as well after the attempt on his life that left Hughes ‘dead’. As part of his cover, Roy had pocketed a packet of Havoc’s cigarettes -left over in the man’s desk which still stood vacant. Roy used to snag his dad’s cigarettes growing up and very early on he swore off them because he didn’t want to be like his father. Still, every once in a while, he craved the bitter tobacco. It was the reason he was so hard on Havoc occasionally. Now he felt bad, given what had become of his subordinate.
Roy took one last lingering look at his reflection. He didn’t quite look unremarkable - damn eyes - but he didn’t really look like himself, which was the point. Roy started walking down the street and lit up a cigarette so he could complete the smoker’s image, not able to help the satisfied sigh at the taste of tobacco. Roy let the smoke curl past his lips, knowing exactly why Havoc was so fixated on them. It gave the mouth something satisfying to do.
He found the Wobbly Boot easily enough. No one even noticed Roy as he walked in. He scanned the crowded pub, looking for Hughes’ lanky form from his view point at the bar while he got a drink to nurse. Roy finally spotted his friend in a back corner. He lit up another cigarette and took a seat opposite ‘Julien.’
“Where is he?” he asked, rolling the cigarette with his lips.
“Do you have to smoke that thing?” Hughes waved a hand in front of his face, wrinkling his long nose.
“The only one who gets to bitch about it is Hawkeye who’s sick and I should be with her. So where is he?” Roy asked, his volatile temper a little short.
“Testy.” Hughes took off his purple-lensed glasses and cleaned them, pointing the way to Kimblee with the stems.
“Sorry, I’m still recovering.” Roy’s shoulder’s slumped as his eyes narrowed in on where Kimblee sat drinking. “I hurt all over and I’m cranky and my lady is ill and my friend is being hunted and the Elric brothers are making targets out of themselves for Scar so I’m a little frayed at the moment.”
Maes stopped polishing his glasses to peer at Roy. “Why are the boys doing that?”
“I’m not sure but it has to be intentional.” Roy took a long drag. “Edward’s not that dumb.”
“No, he’s rather a clever boy. So is Alphonse,” Hughes said, wagging his head. “I can’t worry about the Elrics right now. I’ve been wondering why Kimblee’s waiting to attack me. He might not know I’m who I really am.” Hughes ran a hand through his bottle brush red hair.
“I barely recognize you.” Roy took in his friend's altered appearance. “Why do you think he’s after you?”
“He keeps showing up whereever I am. He’s watching me. He followed me here. I’d rather not wait until he blows me up to panic,” Hughes replied.
Roy nodded, letting smoke curl out his nostrils, dragon-like. “I’ve asked Armstrong to keep an eye on Gracia and Elicia. I’d have asked for Riza to do so as well but I sent her home. The rest of my men are helping.”
“What’s wrong with Riza?” Hughes asked as they watched Kimblee, who seemed to be interested in drinking and ogling women. At the moment, the alchemist was being highly non-threatening.
“No clue. Her doctor called at work,” Roy said, pretending to take a sip of his drink to hid his distress about that.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Hughes frowned. Roy knew Maes was fond of Riza for his sake. Maes used to have a little fantasy where she resigned, married Roy and they moved in on Mayflower next to the Hughes’.
“You know Hawkeye’s stoic. I never know what the hell’s going on with her half the time,” Roy said, wagging his head. He hated not being able to read her as well as he liked.
Hughes nodded. “Do you think that the military would really reinstate Crimson?”
“I’m almost certain of it. Aren’t you?” Roy absently sketched out arrays in the condensation on the table from the glasses.
“Dead certain, no pun intended. If the people behind trying to kill me are high up in the military, they would be thrilled to have a monster like Kimblee on their side.” Hughes’ strong fingers curled against the table top in frustration.
“Agreed.” Roy tamped out his cigarette in the ash tray, trying to ignore the desire to light up another. His eyes narrowed. “I think I know who might be yanking Kimblee’s leash.”
A curious look passed over Maes’ face. “Who?”
“The Cerulean Alchemist,” Roy replied simply.
The curious look morphed into one of disappointment and dismissal. “You’ve blamed Regiene Blackwood for everything and anything for years now. I’ll grant you, she is a scary woman.”
“Think about it,” Roy broke in. “Yes, I’ve hated her since Ishbal, but just think for a minute. She and Kimblee had a grand old time of it at the front. I think the only reason she didn’t share his fate of ending up sentenced to death is because she was more restrained in showing her glee at killing. Trust me, it was there. You weren’t in the same battles as the alchemists. You and the others were busy providing cover for us. I’ve been at her shoulder when she used the carbon the Ishbalans’ own bodies to transmute the water inside a human body into ethanol. Their own body temperature flashed it off, desiccated them. It was horrible...and it made my alchemy that much easier. Alcohol burns. If you don’t believe me, ask Armstrong. He and I were a team. She and Kimblee were another.” Roy felt the color going from his face. He hated talking about Ishbal, hated even thinking about it.
Hughes rubbed his chin, mulling that over. “I believe you. I remember how she treated you after Ishbal, like you and Armstrong both weren’t worthy because you hated what happened out there. She did oppose Kimblee’s sentence.”
Roy nodded. “And I’m pretty sure their partnership didn’t end on the battlefield. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to get naked with either of them but...” He rolled his shoulders, a pained look on his face. “I know she was Gran’s lover later. We’ve seen what he did. What if she helped him? No one in Command is even thinking about it that I know of, but what if she had a hand in Lab Five and what happened to you, not just now but before, in Drachma? Suddenly, she’s back in town, from the West I heard, and Kimblee’s become active again. I bet if I got the names of the officers who are pushing to reinstate him, hers will be there.”
“Then you had best be very careful, Roy. She has no love for you and she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt the people around you,” Hughes said, his face setting angrily. Roy knew that look, the dangerous one.
“I know.” Roy took a deep breath, his eyes flickering toward Kimblee. “He’s on the move.”
That cut short any debate on whether or not the Cerulean Alchemist was behind the attack years ago or what Kimblee was up to now. Roy was willing to put money on her involvement based on what Hughes heard about a woman helping Crimson out. They got up and followed Kimblee at a distance, hoping not to alert him to their presence. Roy had to wonder if Kimblee really was after Hughes. Why would he leave first? Roy hoped Kimblee might be on his way to meet his handler and report back to her.
Unfortunately, it didn’t appear Kimblee had much of an agenda. He filtered in and out of two more bars and then finally he disappeared into the Green Door, a well known brothel on the east end of town. Everyone knew the east end was seedy, dangerous and no one did much about it. Poverty and desperation were just part and parcel of city life and people always seemed almost content to allow for it. Brothels and gambling dens were sure to crop up in that fertile soil.
“So, this can’t possibly take him too long,” Roy said, wiping sweat off his brow as he stared at the brothel door. His injuries were beginning to make themselves known. His side, with its cauterized punctures that while now-healed were still tender, stitched with every step. Roy got winded too easily from all the blood he had lost. He had barely been able to hold up his end once he felt well enough to celebrate his survival with Riza. Roy was a little afraid he had disappointed her that night and the broken condom hadn’t helped matters. His eyes scanned the brothel. Maybe Kimblee would get a venereal disease, served him right.
“Roy, I can do this surveillance myself,” Hughes said. His eyes raking over Roy. Mustang knew Maes couldn’t miss the sweating and the tremors running through him.
Roy shook his head. He would not look weak in front of his friend. “I can help.”
“I was the one in Investigations. Even if you were well, you don’t have the personality to sit quietly and watch.” Hughes smiled to take the sting out of his words. “You’re grey. You’re overtaxing yourself. I know how hard it is to want to be up on your feet and you’re not quite ready.” His hand strayed to his chest where the bullets had gone in.
Roy sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I know. I know I’m of no use to anyone. Not you, not Riza.”
Maes’ smile flipped upside down. “Don’t start down that road, Roy. You are far from useless and right now I don’t have the stamina or time to pull you up if you fall down.” Hughes put a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “And Riza’s sick, so you just forgive yourself now, all right? You got hurt. Not your fault. If you were a hundred percent, I know you’d be here to help me out. You’re already doing more than I could ask for with putting the watch detail on my family. Now, go home and take care of yourself, for once. Chances are once he gets out of here, Kimblee is going to go wherever he’s staying and sleep for the rest of the night. That’ll be important for us to know. I’m not expecting trouble and if I find it...” Hughes took one of his throwing knives out from behind his back. “You know what I can do with these.”
Roy just bobbed his head wearily. “Thanks, Ma...Julien.” He scrubbed a scarred hand over his face. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
Roy left Hughes standing in the shadows watching the brilliant green door of the brothel’s namesake. He walked towards home, stopping at a pay phone once he was in a safer neighborhood. Even so, he twisted so his back was to the phone and he could see out the glass. After Hughes’ near death, Roy was paranoid about public phones. “Hawkeye...sorry if I woke you up.”
“It’s okay, you didn’t. Where are you?” The worry in her voice broke his heart.
“My friend called. He had Kimblee in his sights so I joined him. We tracked the bastard to the Green Door but...I’m worn out. I hate this. I still have no strength,” he growled, his fingers tightening on the phone in frustration.
“Are you sure he’s after your friend?” Riza asked and he imagined she wanted to know who it was but knew better than to ask over the phone.
“Not a hundred percent but he wants something, that’s for sure.” Roy sighed again. “Are you feeling any better, Riza? I can come over if you need me to.”
“No, you sound exhausted, Roy. I’m a little better.” Better or not, he heard the disappointment in her voice.
“I need to go home, Riza. I was half tempted to call Havoc for a ride then I remembered...” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I just need to get some sleep. If you don’t feel better tomorrow, you call in and I’ll handle the sick leave paperwork. I’ll see you tomorrow, promise.”
“Do you need me to call Falman to come get you?” she asked, worried.
“No, I’m not far from home now. I’ll be all right. I love you.”
She hesitated for a moment, certainly surprised he said it over a phone line. “I know. Take care of yourself.”
“That’s the second time someone’s told me that tonight. Feel better, Riza.” Roy hung up the phone and started walking. The time he had to rest hadn’t helped. If nothing else, the wound pulled more as he started walking again.
By the time he got home, he had to concentrate at putting one foot in front of the other. He put on water for tea, mostly because he knew his mind was too occupied with the detritus of his worries and fears for sleep. He wanted a bath with some of Jenna’s fancy herbal treatments - a rarity since he far preferred showers if he was alone - but he didn’t trust his ability to get back out of the tub afterwards. Roy settled for plugging the tub and tossing in the bath salts, letting the scent roil up as he quickly showered.
The kettle was screaming when he was done and he padded naked out to the kitchen to brew the tea. His house was too damn quiet. Maybe he should get a cat. He liked dogs a little better but he was never home. Cats were okay; they were like him, not fond of taking orders and could fend for themselves. It might be nice to have another heartbeat around. While the nettle tea - Jenna promised it would help him rebuild the iron in his blood to make him feel better - was brewing he went back to the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the still-steamy mirror. His burns were peeling again. He stripped the dead skin away, like helping a snake to shed. The flesh under the dead skin was still red and angry. He rubbed in the cream Jenna had given him, hazelnut butter packed with marigold and comfrey to help speed healing. Roy winced, his flesh still tender.
He pulled on some old boxers – who cared if Jenna’s ointment stained them - then put on his robe. Roy loaded the tea with honey since nettles were bitter. He wanted very much to enrich it with whiskey but if he did, he would be trying to call Riza or Hughes in the middle of the night, crying drunk. Maes was right. It was better to not even get started down that road. Roy turned on his phonograph and sat down with the latest horror novel he had bought. Maybe it would make him feel less like a failure.
Shades of Grey Series #6 - Shade Mist
D M Evans
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition.
Pairing - Roy/Riza, Ed/Winry, Maes/Gracia
Time Line - This has elements of the anime up to about #25 and definite spoilers for the manga past #38 and beyond. More manga-based than not. However, the main arc of the series came before all the Roy and Riza history was published and so this can be considered majorly AU as far as that is concerned.
Rating - FRM
Summary - Riza’s life takes an unexpected turn and Roy’s past catches up with him.
Warning - dark themes, later chapters contain mention of torture and rape.
Author’s Note - This series was started long before the lovely Ishbal arc so it’s AU for the Mustang and Hawkeye history and there is no real way around that I’m afraid. Also, the Ravensdales are original characters that have small recurring roles in the series.
Series can be found (They have varying ratings, please read only those appropriate to your age group, thanks)
#1 The Roots of Violence
#2 Ashes & Bone
#3 Why They Call It Falling
#4 Point of Fracture
#5 With Silence
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Kahlil Gibran
Chapter One
Chapter Two
After taking a nip of whiskey from the flask hidden in a drawer, Roy started chewing the mints Jenna had made him. As if he could really hide the whiskey on his breath. This day was awful, flat out terrible. Not only had he missed the fact Riza was so obviously sick, and he could kick himself for that, but when Maes had called under his new identity of Julien Camden, he didn’t have good news.
Kimblee was on Maes’ trail. He didn’t know if the Crimson Alchemist knew Hughes’ true identity or if the investigating Maes was doing now had garnered the unwelcome attention. Maes managed to do a little table turning and had listened in on Kimblee, finding out for certain Kimblee had someone he answered to here in Central. The problem was Hughes didn’t know who held Kimbley's leash this time. Neither Roy nor Hughes were willing to take chances with Elicia and Gracia’s safety. Roy would call Armstrong later and see what they could cook up in order to be sure Hughes’ family was protected. Mustang would even send his men in the day time if he had to.
What was really eating at him was the idea that someone within the military was helping that bastard, Kimblee. Roy had always wondered who was helping Gran all those years. They never did find out who had betrayed him and Maes all those years ago near the Drachmaian border. Gran was probably behind it but they never did find the woman who helped him. Mustang had suspicions but she had gone so underground that he hadn’t heard of her in a couple of years.
Roy shook his head and filled out the waiting paperwork. He’d point to it later as a ‘see, I’m sorry that I didn’t see you were sick. Aren’t I a good boy though?’ Usually poor Riza had to all but shove her gun in his face to make him do his work. He was a bad man sometimes.
The phone rang just as Roy was just getting ready to leave for the day. He debating picking up, wanting to get over to Hawkeye’s and see how she was doing. Finally duty won out. “Mustang here,” he said gruffly, hoping the Elrics hadn’t baited Scar out into the open.
“Camden. You know who is at the Wobbly Boot. So am I,” Hughes said simply.
“Don’t let him see you. I’ll be right there,” Roy said, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t let his friend face Kimblee alone but he felt guilty about not going to see Riza when she was ill.
“Take the time to gussy up,” Camden replied.
“Understood.” Mustang hung up, Hughes’ code words in his ear. His friend wanted Mustang to come in disguise such as he could manage.
Roy went home, put on some older clothing, nothing that would stand out. He used his alchemy to go redheaded. He looked like a ginger cat, especially with his almond eyes. Maybe from a distance in a dark smoky bar, he’d look like Julien Camden’s cousin. Hughes had gone red as well after the attempt on his life that left Hughes ‘dead’. As part of his cover, Roy had pocketed a packet of Havoc’s cigarettes -left over in the man’s desk which still stood vacant. Roy used to snag his dad’s cigarettes growing up and very early on he swore off them because he didn’t want to be like his father. Still, every once in a while, he craved the bitter tobacco. It was the reason he was so hard on Havoc occasionally. Now he felt bad, given what had become of his subordinate.
Roy took one last lingering look at his reflection. He didn’t quite look unremarkable - damn eyes - but he didn’t really look like himself, which was the point. Roy started walking down the street and lit up a cigarette so he could complete the smoker’s image, not able to help the satisfied sigh at the taste of tobacco. Roy let the smoke curl past his lips, knowing exactly why Havoc was so fixated on them. It gave the mouth something satisfying to do.
He found the Wobbly Boot easily enough. No one even noticed Roy as he walked in. He scanned the crowded pub, looking for Hughes’ lanky form from his view point at the bar while he got a drink to nurse. Roy finally spotted his friend in a back corner. He lit up another cigarette and took a seat opposite ‘Julien.’
“Where is he?” he asked, rolling the cigarette with his lips.
“Do you have to smoke that thing?” Hughes waved a hand in front of his face, wrinkling his long nose.
“The only one who gets to bitch about it is Hawkeye who’s sick and I should be with her. So where is he?” Roy asked, his volatile temper a little short.
“Testy.” Hughes took off his purple-lensed glasses and cleaned them, pointing the way to Kimblee with the stems.
“Sorry, I’m still recovering.” Roy’s shoulder’s slumped as his eyes narrowed in on where Kimblee sat drinking. “I hurt all over and I’m cranky and my lady is ill and my friend is being hunted and the Elric brothers are making targets out of themselves for Scar so I’m a little frayed at the moment.”
Maes stopped polishing his glasses to peer at Roy. “Why are the boys doing that?”
“I’m not sure but it has to be intentional.” Roy took a long drag. “Edward’s not that dumb.”
“No, he’s rather a clever boy. So is Alphonse,” Hughes said, wagging his head. “I can’t worry about the Elrics right now. I’ve been wondering why Kimblee’s waiting to attack me. He might not know I’m who I really am.” Hughes ran a hand through his bottle brush red hair.
“I barely recognize you.” Roy took in his friend's altered appearance. “Why do you think he’s after you?”
“He keeps showing up whereever I am. He’s watching me. He followed me here. I’d rather not wait until he blows me up to panic,” Hughes replied.
Roy nodded, letting smoke curl out his nostrils, dragon-like. “I’ve asked Armstrong to keep an eye on Gracia and Elicia. I’d have asked for Riza to do so as well but I sent her home. The rest of my men are helping.”
“What’s wrong with Riza?” Hughes asked as they watched Kimblee, who seemed to be interested in drinking and ogling women. At the moment, the alchemist was being highly non-threatening.
“No clue. Her doctor called at work,” Roy said, pretending to take a sip of his drink to hid his distress about that.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Hughes frowned. Roy knew Maes was fond of Riza for his sake. Maes used to have a little fantasy where she resigned, married Roy and they moved in on Mayflower next to the Hughes’.
“You know Hawkeye’s stoic. I never know what the hell’s going on with her half the time,” Roy said, wagging his head. He hated not being able to read her as well as he liked.
Hughes nodded. “Do you think that the military would really reinstate Crimson?”
“I’m almost certain of it. Aren’t you?” Roy absently sketched out arrays in the condensation on the table from the glasses.
“Dead certain, no pun intended. If the people behind trying to kill me are high up in the military, they would be thrilled to have a monster like Kimblee on their side.” Hughes’ strong fingers curled against the table top in frustration.
“Agreed.” Roy tamped out his cigarette in the ash tray, trying to ignore the desire to light up another. His eyes narrowed. “I think I know who might be yanking Kimblee’s leash.”
A curious look passed over Maes’ face. “Who?”
“The Cerulean Alchemist,” Roy replied simply.
The curious look morphed into one of disappointment and dismissal. “You’ve blamed Regiene Blackwood for everything and anything for years now. I’ll grant you, she is a scary woman.”
“Think about it,” Roy broke in. “Yes, I’ve hated her since Ishbal, but just think for a minute. She and Kimblee had a grand old time of it at the front. I think the only reason she didn’t share his fate of ending up sentenced to death is because she was more restrained in showing her glee at killing. Trust me, it was there. You weren’t in the same battles as the alchemists. You and the others were busy providing cover for us. I’ve been at her shoulder when she used the carbon the Ishbalans’ own bodies to transmute the water inside a human body into ethanol. Their own body temperature flashed it off, desiccated them. It was horrible...and it made my alchemy that much easier. Alcohol burns. If you don’t believe me, ask Armstrong. He and I were a team. She and Kimblee were another.” Roy felt the color going from his face. He hated talking about Ishbal, hated even thinking about it.
Hughes rubbed his chin, mulling that over. “I believe you. I remember how she treated you after Ishbal, like you and Armstrong both weren’t worthy because you hated what happened out there. She did oppose Kimblee’s sentence.”
Roy nodded. “And I’m pretty sure their partnership didn’t end on the battlefield. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to get naked with either of them but...” He rolled his shoulders, a pained look on his face. “I know she was Gran’s lover later. We’ve seen what he did. What if she helped him? No one in Command is even thinking about it that I know of, but what if she had a hand in Lab Five and what happened to you, not just now but before, in Drachma? Suddenly, she’s back in town, from the West I heard, and Kimblee’s become active again. I bet if I got the names of the officers who are pushing to reinstate him, hers will be there.”
“Then you had best be very careful, Roy. She has no love for you and she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt the people around you,” Hughes said, his face setting angrily. Roy knew that look, the dangerous one.
“I know.” Roy took a deep breath, his eyes flickering toward Kimblee. “He’s on the move.”
That cut short any debate on whether or not the Cerulean Alchemist was behind the attack years ago or what Kimblee was up to now. Roy was willing to put money on her involvement based on what Hughes heard about a woman helping Crimson out. They got up and followed Kimblee at a distance, hoping not to alert him to their presence. Roy had to wonder if Kimblee really was after Hughes. Why would he leave first? Roy hoped Kimblee might be on his way to meet his handler and report back to her.
Unfortunately, it didn’t appear Kimblee had much of an agenda. He filtered in and out of two more bars and then finally he disappeared into the Green Door, a well known brothel on the east end of town. Everyone knew the east end was seedy, dangerous and no one did much about it. Poverty and desperation were just part and parcel of city life and people always seemed almost content to allow for it. Brothels and gambling dens were sure to crop up in that fertile soil.
“So, this can’t possibly take him too long,” Roy said, wiping sweat off his brow as he stared at the brothel door. His injuries were beginning to make themselves known. His side, with its cauterized punctures that while now-healed were still tender, stitched with every step. Roy got winded too easily from all the blood he had lost. He had barely been able to hold up his end once he felt well enough to celebrate his survival with Riza. Roy was a little afraid he had disappointed her that night and the broken condom hadn’t helped matters. His eyes scanned the brothel. Maybe Kimblee would get a venereal disease, served him right.
“Roy, I can do this surveillance myself,” Hughes said. His eyes raking over Roy. Mustang knew Maes couldn’t miss the sweating and the tremors running through him.
Roy shook his head. He would not look weak in front of his friend. “I can help.”
“I was the one in Investigations. Even if you were well, you don’t have the personality to sit quietly and watch.” Hughes smiled to take the sting out of his words. “You’re grey. You’re overtaxing yourself. I know how hard it is to want to be up on your feet and you’re not quite ready.” His hand strayed to his chest where the bullets had gone in.
Roy sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I know. I know I’m of no use to anyone. Not you, not Riza.”
Maes’ smile flipped upside down. “Don’t start down that road, Roy. You are far from useless and right now I don’t have the stamina or time to pull you up if you fall down.” Hughes put a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “And Riza’s sick, so you just forgive yourself now, all right? You got hurt. Not your fault. If you were a hundred percent, I know you’d be here to help me out. You’re already doing more than I could ask for with putting the watch detail on my family. Now, go home and take care of yourself, for once. Chances are once he gets out of here, Kimblee is going to go wherever he’s staying and sleep for the rest of the night. That’ll be important for us to know. I’m not expecting trouble and if I find it...” Hughes took one of his throwing knives out from behind his back. “You know what I can do with these.”
Roy just bobbed his head wearily. “Thanks, Ma...Julien.” He scrubbed a scarred hand over his face. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
Roy left Hughes standing in the shadows watching the brilliant green door of the brothel’s namesake. He walked towards home, stopping at a pay phone once he was in a safer neighborhood. Even so, he twisted so his back was to the phone and he could see out the glass. After Hughes’ near death, Roy was paranoid about public phones. “Hawkeye...sorry if I woke you up.”
“It’s okay, you didn’t. Where are you?” The worry in her voice broke his heart.
“My friend called. He had Kimblee in his sights so I joined him. We tracked the bastard to the Green Door but...I’m worn out. I hate this. I still have no strength,” he growled, his fingers tightening on the phone in frustration.
“Are you sure he’s after your friend?” Riza asked and he imagined she wanted to know who it was but knew better than to ask over the phone.
“Not a hundred percent but he wants something, that’s for sure.” Roy sighed again. “Are you feeling any better, Riza? I can come over if you need me to.”
“No, you sound exhausted, Roy. I’m a little better.” Better or not, he heard the disappointment in her voice.
“I need to go home, Riza. I was half tempted to call Havoc for a ride then I remembered...” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I just need to get some sleep. If you don’t feel better tomorrow, you call in and I’ll handle the sick leave paperwork. I’ll see you tomorrow, promise.”
“Do you need me to call Falman to come get you?” she asked, worried.
“No, I’m not far from home now. I’ll be all right. I love you.”
She hesitated for a moment, certainly surprised he said it over a phone line. “I know. Take care of yourself.”
“That’s the second time someone’s told me that tonight. Feel better, Riza.” Roy hung up the phone and started walking. The time he had to rest hadn’t helped. If nothing else, the wound pulled more as he started walking again.
By the time he got home, he had to concentrate at putting one foot in front of the other. He put on water for tea, mostly because he knew his mind was too occupied with the detritus of his worries and fears for sleep. He wanted a bath with some of Jenna’s fancy herbal treatments - a rarity since he far preferred showers if he was alone - but he didn’t trust his ability to get back out of the tub afterwards. Roy settled for plugging the tub and tossing in the bath salts, letting the scent roil up as he quickly showered.
The kettle was screaming when he was done and he padded naked out to the kitchen to brew the tea. His house was too damn quiet. Maybe he should get a cat. He liked dogs a little better but he was never home. Cats were okay; they were like him, not fond of taking orders and could fend for themselves. It might be nice to have another heartbeat around. While the nettle tea - Jenna promised it would help him rebuild the iron in his blood to make him feel better - was brewing he went back to the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the still-steamy mirror. His burns were peeling again. He stripped the dead skin away, like helping a snake to shed. The flesh under the dead skin was still red and angry. He rubbed in the cream Jenna had given him, hazelnut butter packed with marigold and comfrey to help speed healing. Roy winced, his flesh still tender.
He pulled on some old boxers – who cared if Jenna’s ointment stained them - then put on his robe. Roy loaded the tea with honey since nettles were bitter. He wanted very much to enrich it with whiskey but if he did, he would be trying to call Riza or Hughes in the middle of the night, crying drunk. Maes was right. It was better to not even get started down that road. Roy turned on his phonograph and sat down with the latest horror novel he had bought. Maybe it would make him feel less like a failure.
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