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cornerofmadnessSorry for the long delay. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long
The 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.
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
Rating – FRM, WARNING - violent themes and some OC death
Summary - Riza and Roy’s life takes an unexpected turn, especially when old enemies put in an appearance
Author’s Note – Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta. This is one story in a series but is a stand alone. 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. The other stories in this series are Roots of Violence
Ashes and Bone
Why They Call it Falling
Point of Fracture
With Silence
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. - Kahlil Gibran
previous chapters
Chapter Eight
Ed sat next to the bed, feeling horrible. He couldn’t even look at Winry, huddling in the hospital bed. He had nearly gotten her killed. Even Al was strangely silent, as if he, too, felt guilt crushing down on him. Ed winced when Winry drew in a shuddering breath and sobbed.
Ed trembled, knowing he'd made her cry again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to meet her eyes. Ed hated this. Winry should not be in a hospital bed. That was his place. She always came to see him when he got hurt. He should not be witness to her being injured since Winry should never be injured. This was wrong.
“Not your fault.” She sniffed.
Al waved at Ed as if he understood better than his brother what Winry needed. Ed got up and sat on the edge of the bed. For once he let himself act on emotion with Winry without thinking. Tentatively he held out his arms and Winry crushed herself to him. She buried her wet face against the crook of his neck. Ed squeezed her tightly. “I’m so sorry. I got you caught up in this.” Each word had to fight its way out, his throat was that closed off from the swell of emotion.
“You didn’t, Ed,” Winry replied, her words muffled against his skin. “They were after Mr. Hughes. And I don’t blame him either. Is he okay?”
“Yes, Winry,” Al said quickly, desperate to give her a measure of comfort. “He’s here. So is Lieutenant Hawkeye.”
“They hurt her.” Winry’s body quaked so hard Ed almost lost his grip on her. “He raped her,” she rasped out.”
Ed couldn’t talk, his mouth impossibly dry. He heard Al shaking. Ed couldn’t imagine the horrible thing Kimblee had done. Rape had never crossed Ed’s mind and then something occurred to him, the image in his mind hurting like a knife wound. “Winry, he didn’t…” Ed shivered, unable to make his mouth work. “Did he?”
“He didn’t touch me.” Winry rubbed her eyes. “He might have. Miss Hawkeye made sure that he concentrated on her.” Her voice broke, unable to deal with what could have happened to her and what had happened. She sobbed against his chest. “She tried to protect me.”
“Oh, Winry,” Al said, the sadness in his voice echoing in the cramped hospital room as he reached over his brother’s shoulder and stroked Winry’s hair.
Ed didn’t know what to do to help her. He held her as if Winry might die if he let her go.
“Winry, is there anything else we can do for you?” Al asked, thinking he saw that question in his brother’s eyes but Ed just wasn’t good at saying things like that. Al had always been Ed’s voice.
She shook her head, her cheek rubbing against Ed. “Thank you, Al. I’ll be okay.”
Hearing a soft noise at the door, Ed jumped, expecting some danger to manifest itself. Instead, he saw Hughes in a hospital robe, leaning on a rolling IV tree. A line ran from the crux of his elbow to the bottle of IV fluid. Behind his glasses, Hughes’ eyes were bloodshot and sunken, his long face cloaked in embarrassment for interrupting them.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to intrude but I wanted to see how Winry was doing,” Hughes said, concern and frustration warring in his tone.
“I’ll be okay,” she said unconvincingly, waving him in.
Hughes rolled closer and gave them all an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you all about being dead.”
Letting Winry go, Ed got to his feet, his whole body trembling. He wanted to tell Maes how much it had hurt to lose him, more than the boy would ever have guessed. Hughes reached over and caught Ed in a brief hug before Ed could speak then patted Al’s metal back. Ed almost wished the hug had gone on longer, not that he’d ever say that.
“I’m sorry.” The emotions molding Hughes’ face said that he meant it wholeheartedly.
“We thought we got you killed,” Al whispered. “It hurt so much.”
“I wanted to hurt someone for it,” Ed grumbled, his fists clenching, trembling in agitation.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Hughes said forcefully, his hands resting on Ed’s shoulders.
“You don’t have to be super-dad and protect us. We know the homunculi came after you,” Ed said, his face screwing up in anguish as he leaned into Hughes’ touch.
“Because I uncovered military secrets, Edward. I put together something I shouldn’t have doing my job and followed up things no one wanted me to look into, like what happened at Lab Five. I was too smart for my own good.” Hughes’ face twisted. “I hate that you thought my ‘death’ was your fault.” He put his arms around Ed briefly again. “You two are not to blame.” He let Ed go and turned to Winry. “Are you sure you’re all right, young lady?”
“I will be.” Determination flashed over her face. “How is Miss Hawkeye?”
“Stable.” Hughes’ eyes hardened. “They have her sedated now.”
“Did she lose her baby?” The look in her eyes, the tone of her voice begged him to tell her ‘no.’
Hughes rested a hand on Winry’s crown. “I’m afraid so.”
“Damn it,” Ed swore as Winry started crying again.
“When do you think we could see her, sir?” Al sounded very young and afraid.
Hughes put a hand on Al’s metal arm. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to stay here the night. It’s too sad,” Winry cried, trying to swing out of bed but Ed stopped her.
“We can’t be sure you’ll be safe at the hotel, Winry,” Al said, going to guard the door. “There are guards here.”
“Mustang exploded Cerulean but Kimblee got away before the rescue party got there. He could come back to finish what he started,” Ed added, shuddering at the thought.
“I don’t care! I don’t want to stay here,” Winry cried, trying to move Ed and failing.
“You don’t have to,” Mustang’s voice came from the doorway. The boys spun around to see him. “Jenna stopped to check on us. She says you can stay with her. Havoc can help keep a safe eye on you and I’ll send Fuery to help.” Mustang came into the room, his eyes on Winry. “And I wanted to see how you were doing, Miss Rockbell.”
“Better now.” Winry’s lower lip trembled as she gazed into his dark eyes. “I’m very sorry, sir.”
“Yes, we heard.” Al shook his head. “We’re so very sorry.”
“Tell her that for us,” Ed put in.
Mustang nodded weakly. “I will, thank you.” He sighed, looking like he wanted to fall down and just curl up in a ball. Mustang glanced at Hughes. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I’m mostly fine,” Hughes replied. “I’m doing the same thing as Winry. As soon as I’m rehydrated, I’m out of here.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Mustang’s eyes went to mere slits. “Maybe Kimblee knows where you were living under cover and you certainly can’t go home with Gracia and Elicia.”
“I’m not.” Hughes draped an arm around Mustang’s shoulder. “You can’t be alone tonight, buddy. I’ll go home with you.”
“What?” Mustang looked up at him, shocked. The brothers and Winry wisely kept quiet.
“They won’t let you spend the night here and I’m not going to let you be by yourself.” Hughes’ expressive face screamed loudly that no arguing would be tolerated.
Mustang gave a brief nod, relief engraved on his face. He seemed utterly aged by the events of the day. “Get back to your room now or they might not let you out of here.”
“Okay. Good point,” Hughes conceded. “I’ll be back later,” he told the teens.
“Miss Rockbell, if you need anything, just send Edward after me,” Mustang offered, giving her a faint smile.
“Thank you, sir.” She watched the two soldiers leave then shuddered. “This hurts so much.”
Ed sat back down with her, resting a hand on her head. “I know.”
Winry slipped her arms around him, tucking against him. She opted for silent comfort.
X X X
Roy sat on Riza’s bed, watching her sleep. The curtains on the outside windows were drawn and Breda was watching the door so they would have privacy. Roy cradled her hand in his, thinking of all the ways he had failed her. He hadn’t kept her safe. He hadn’t found her in time, their baby was dead and it was all his fault. All these bruises, the fragile look of her as she slept, this was his doing; he hadn’t been good enough to keep her safe. Roy told himself the tiny shivers running through him was because it was so cold in Riza’s room. He would get the nurse to give her an extra blanket even though he knew the frigid winds were inside him.
Hearing a soft moan, he focused on Riza’s face, tightening his grip on her hand. “I’m right here, Riza,” he whispered, his heart thundering. “They can’t hurt you any more.”
Slowly her eyes peeled open, blinking at him as her surroundings began to register with her. “Roy?” she asked, her words sounding dry.
“Right here.” With his free hand, he stroked her hair. “You’re safe now.”
Riza’s tongue moved over her dry, cracked lips and she seemed like she couldn’t rasp out the words. Roy slid an arm under her, lifting her against him, because it was easier than getting up and cranking up the head of the bed. He grabbed a glass with a straw in it from the bed stand. She drank greedily. When she was done, he set it aside and settled Riza back down.
Roy kissed her softly then said in a ragged voice. “I’m so sorry, Riza. I let them hurt you.”
Riza started to lift her arm then winced as the IV needle made itself known. “You weren’t even there, Roy. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t find you in time. I couldn’t save you.” Anguish harrowed into his soul.
“You got there before we died. They were going to kill us.” She reached for him with her other hand.
“They can’t hurt you any more, at least Cerulean can’t. I killed her but Kimblee was gone before we got there.” The look in Roy’s eyes was vicious.
Riza’s breath hitched at that then her face darkened. “Good. She killed our baby. I’m glad you finished her,” she spat then covered her mouth as a sob ripped out. She held out an arm to Roy.
He gathered her against him, mindful of the IV tubing. Roy rocked her as Riza wept uncontrollably. All he could do was chant, ‘I’m sorry’ while trying to remain strong for her. He fought to ignore the bleeding in his own heart, refusing to cry. Finally she ran out of tears and he settled her back as gently as priceless porcelain. Roy took out his handkerchief and let her wipe his face.
“You look so exhausted, Riza. Sleep now,” he said, stroking her lank hair. “I’ll watch over you until they make me go.”
Riza took his hand. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash, Roy. Don’t get yourself killed tonight.”
“Maes is staying with me. I won’t be going anywhere.” Seeing her look and interpreting it correctly, Roy added, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Maes, Riza. He didn’t want anyone to know. It wasn’t a matter of trust.”
“I know. Maes told me,” she said wearily. “I’m glad he’s not dead, Roy. I remember what burying him did to you.” Riza paused then added, “You didn’t know at the funeral that he was still alive, did you?”
“No.” Roy remembered what he had been like that night. He had nearly hurt her. He hated thinking about it. “We can talk about it later, Riza. You should get some sleep.”
She didn’t protest, nodding off quickly, leaving him alone with his pain.
X X X
“Sit and I’ll go get some bedding.” Roy pointed to the couch.
Maes sank heavily onto it, weary to the bone. “Leave it until later. Sit down and talk to me, Roy. You haven’t said anything.”
Roy flopped down next to his friend. “What is there to say? I failed her and all I could do was watch her cry.” The self-recriminations were loud in his voice.
“I hope you said it less harshly than that to Riza,” Maes said, resting a hand on Roy’s shoulder comfortingly.
Roy waved him off, wiggling way from his friend’s touch. “I was strong for her. That’s all I could do.”
Maes nodded, saying gently, “It’s okay to let her see your pain, too.”
Roy steeled his jaw as his eyes glistened. “She didn’t need to see me cry.”
“You don’t know that, Roy.” Maes sighed. “We tried to stop them, Winry and me, that’s how we ended up so dehydrated. Cerulean stopped us hard. Bound like we were, I didn’t know where we were going to run to anyhow should we have escaped. I didn’t want to give Kimblee any reason to come after us. It was bad enough what he did to Riza.”
Roy’s head snapped up. His eyes fastened on Maes and his friend paled under the heat of the gaze, realization setting in. “What?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Maes whispered. Horror lurked in his citrine eyes.
“Tell me what?” The words snapped as from the jaws of a feral dog.
“I shouldn’t.” Maes shook his head, his mouth twisted
“What did he do, Maes?” Roy growled, his hand clenching around Maes’ wrist.
“What do you think?” Maes’ words were soft but they hit Roy like a sledge.
Roy’s control shattered. He put a hand over his mouth, trying in vain to stem the loud sound, somewhere between a sob and a roar. Heedless of the tears rolling down his face, Roy kicked over the coffee table.
“Roy.” Maes reached for him and Roy shoved Maes away, jumping to his feet. He stalked around the room furiously, savage cries rumbling out of him. Roy took out his fury on helpless household items while Maes managed to drag himself to his feet to guard the door in case Roy decided to make a break for it. Finally, flesh met mirrored glass.
Roy snatched his gashed hand back from the hall mirror. “Shit.”
“Sit down and let me check it,” Maes said patiently.
Roy did so, a petulant look on his face. Maes eyeballed the damage then stabbed a finger at Roy. “Keep your ass on that couch. I’m going to get bandages. I’m too tired and weak to chase you and if I have to call for help to handle you, well, you wouldn’t want to see what Gracia will do to you if you make me strain myself.”
A harsh laugh bubbled up out of Roy but the anger faded from his eyes. Maes darted into the bathroom and got some bandages. Roy was right where Maes left him when he got back.
“I will kill him,” Roy muttered as Maes bandaged him up.
“I’ll help you but not tonight,” Maes said, his tone betraying his deep exhaustion.
“I’m tired,” Roy said but Maes wasn’t sure if that was merely to put him at ease or if it was the truth. “Feel like I haven’t slept in days. I feel so…empty.”
“Of course you do. People you love were tortured and violated. You lost your baby. No one’s blaming you for being all torn up,” Maes said gently, taping the dressing down.
“I can’t even think about the baby,” Roy said roughly, pulling away.
“Why don’t you just let go of all of this and let yourself be sad,” Maes suggested, rubbing Roy’s shoulder.
Roy gave him a look that said, ‘not in front of you.’
“You’re being such a guy.” Maes put his arm around Roy for a moment then let him go. “Go on, go to bed.”
Roy shook his head. “You go sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“I’m not putting you out of your bed.”
Roy sighed. “I give you my word I’m not running out of here tonight. You don’t have to guard the door.” Roy saw Maes’ expression and knew his friend wasn’t quite convinced. “I wasn’t the one held captive and tortured. Take the bed.”
“All right.” Maes got up. “I could use the bed right about now.”
Roy watched Maes go then got up and turned out the lights after getting himself some bedding. He stretched out on the couch, turning his face into the cushions and wept.
The 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.
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
Rating – FRM, WARNING - violent themes and some OC death
Summary - Riza and Roy’s life takes an unexpected turn, especially when old enemies put in an appearance
Author’s Note – Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta. This is one story in a series but is a stand alone. 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. The other stories in this series are Roots of Violence
Ashes and Bone
Why They Call it Falling
Point of Fracture
With Silence
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. - Kahlil Gibran
previous chapters
Chapter Eight
Ed sat next to the bed, feeling horrible. He couldn’t even look at Winry, huddling in the hospital bed. He had nearly gotten her killed. Even Al was strangely silent, as if he, too, felt guilt crushing down on him. Ed winced when Winry drew in a shuddering breath and sobbed.
Ed trembled, knowing he'd made her cry again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to meet her eyes. Ed hated this. Winry should not be in a hospital bed. That was his place. She always came to see him when he got hurt. He should not be witness to her being injured since Winry should never be injured. This was wrong.
“Not your fault.” She sniffed.
Al waved at Ed as if he understood better than his brother what Winry needed. Ed got up and sat on the edge of the bed. For once he let himself act on emotion with Winry without thinking. Tentatively he held out his arms and Winry crushed herself to him. She buried her wet face against the crook of his neck. Ed squeezed her tightly. “I’m so sorry. I got you caught up in this.” Each word had to fight its way out, his throat was that closed off from the swell of emotion.
“You didn’t, Ed,” Winry replied, her words muffled against his skin. “They were after Mr. Hughes. And I don’t blame him either. Is he okay?”
“Yes, Winry,” Al said quickly, desperate to give her a measure of comfort. “He’s here. So is Lieutenant Hawkeye.”
“They hurt her.” Winry’s body quaked so hard Ed almost lost his grip on her. “He raped her,” she rasped out.”
Ed couldn’t talk, his mouth impossibly dry. He heard Al shaking. Ed couldn’t imagine the horrible thing Kimblee had done. Rape had never crossed Ed’s mind and then something occurred to him, the image in his mind hurting like a knife wound. “Winry, he didn’t…” Ed shivered, unable to make his mouth work. “Did he?”
“He didn’t touch me.” Winry rubbed her eyes. “He might have. Miss Hawkeye made sure that he concentrated on her.” Her voice broke, unable to deal with what could have happened to her and what had happened. She sobbed against his chest. “She tried to protect me.”
“Oh, Winry,” Al said, the sadness in his voice echoing in the cramped hospital room as he reached over his brother’s shoulder and stroked Winry’s hair.
Ed didn’t know what to do to help her. He held her as if Winry might die if he let her go.
“Winry, is there anything else we can do for you?” Al asked, thinking he saw that question in his brother’s eyes but Ed just wasn’t good at saying things like that. Al had always been Ed’s voice.
She shook her head, her cheek rubbing against Ed. “Thank you, Al. I’ll be okay.”
Hearing a soft noise at the door, Ed jumped, expecting some danger to manifest itself. Instead, he saw Hughes in a hospital robe, leaning on a rolling IV tree. A line ran from the crux of his elbow to the bottle of IV fluid. Behind his glasses, Hughes’ eyes were bloodshot and sunken, his long face cloaked in embarrassment for interrupting them.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to intrude but I wanted to see how Winry was doing,” Hughes said, concern and frustration warring in his tone.
“I’ll be okay,” she said unconvincingly, waving him in.
Hughes rolled closer and gave them all an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you all about being dead.”
Letting Winry go, Ed got to his feet, his whole body trembling. He wanted to tell Maes how much it had hurt to lose him, more than the boy would ever have guessed. Hughes reached over and caught Ed in a brief hug before Ed could speak then patted Al’s metal back. Ed almost wished the hug had gone on longer, not that he’d ever say that.
“I’m sorry.” The emotions molding Hughes’ face said that he meant it wholeheartedly.
“We thought we got you killed,” Al whispered. “It hurt so much.”
“I wanted to hurt someone for it,” Ed grumbled, his fists clenching, trembling in agitation.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Hughes said forcefully, his hands resting on Ed’s shoulders.
“You don’t have to be super-dad and protect us. We know the homunculi came after you,” Ed said, his face screwing up in anguish as he leaned into Hughes’ touch.
“Because I uncovered military secrets, Edward. I put together something I shouldn’t have doing my job and followed up things no one wanted me to look into, like what happened at Lab Five. I was too smart for my own good.” Hughes’ face twisted. “I hate that you thought my ‘death’ was your fault.” He put his arms around Ed briefly again. “You two are not to blame.” He let Ed go and turned to Winry. “Are you sure you’re all right, young lady?”
“I will be.” Determination flashed over her face. “How is Miss Hawkeye?”
“Stable.” Hughes’ eyes hardened. “They have her sedated now.”
“Did she lose her baby?” The look in her eyes, the tone of her voice begged him to tell her ‘no.’
Hughes rested a hand on Winry’s crown. “I’m afraid so.”
“Damn it,” Ed swore as Winry started crying again.
“When do you think we could see her, sir?” Al sounded very young and afraid.
Hughes put a hand on Al’s metal arm. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to stay here the night. It’s too sad,” Winry cried, trying to swing out of bed but Ed stopped her.
“We can’t be sure you’ll be safe at the hotel, Winry,” Al said, going to guard the door. “There are guards here.”
“Mustang exploded Cerulean but Kimblee got away before the rescue party got there. He could come back to finish what he started,” Ed added, shuddering at the thought.
“I don’t care! I don’t want to stay here,” Winry cried, trying to move Ed and failing.
“You don’t have to,” Mustang’s voice came from the doorway. The boys spun around to see him. “Jenna stopped to check on us. She says you can stay with her. Havoc can help keep a safe eye on you and I’ll send Fuery to help.” Mustang came into the room, his eyes on Winry. “And I wanted to see how you were doing, Miss Rockbell.”
“Better now.” Winry’s lower lip trembled as she gazed into his dark eyes. “I’m very sorry, sir.”
“Yes, we heard.” Al shook his head. “We’re so very sorry.”
“Tell her that for us,” Ed put in.
Mustang nodded weakly. “I will, thank you.” He sighed, looking like he wanted to fall down and just curl up in a ball. Mustang glanced at Hughes. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I’m mostly fine,” Hughes replied. “I’m doing the same thing as Winry. As soon as I’m rehydrated, I’m out of here.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Mustang’s eyes went to mere slits. “Maybe Kimblee knows where you were living under cover and you certainly can’t go home with Gracia and Elicia.”
“I’m not.” Hughes draped an arm around Mustang’s shoulder. “You can’t be alone tonight, buddy. I’ll go home with you.”
“What?” Mustang looked up at him, shocked. The brothers and Winry wisely kept quiet.
“They won’t let you spend the night here and I’m not going to let you be by yourself.” Hughes’ expressive face screamed loudly that no arguing would be tolerated.
Mustang gave a brief nod, relief engraved on his face. He seemed utterly aged by the events of the day. “Get back to your room now or they might not let you out of here.”
“Okay. Good point,” Hughes conceded. “I’ll be back later,” he told the teens.
“Miss Rockbell, if you need anything, just send Edward after me,” Mustang offered, giving her a faint smile.
“Thank you, sir.” She watched the two soldiers leave then shuddered. “This hurts so much.”
Ed sat back down with her, resting a hand on her head. “I know.”
Winry slipped her arms around him, tucking against him. She opted for silent comfort.
X X X
Roy sat on Riza’s bed, watching her sleep. The curtains on the outside windows were drawn and Breda was watching the door so they would have privacy. Roy cradled her hand in his, thinking of all the ways he had failed her. He hadn’t kept her safe. He hadn’t found her in time, their baby was dead and it was all his fault. All these bruises, the fragile look of her as she slept, this was his doing; he hadn’t been good enough to keep her safe. Roy told himself the tiny shivers running through him was because it was so cold in Riza’s room. He would get the nurse to give her an extra blanket even though he knew the frigid winds were inside him.
Hearing a soft moan, he focused on Riza’s face, tightening his grip on her hand. “I’m right here, Riza,” he whispered, his heart thundering. “They can’t hurt you any more.”
Slowly her eyes peeled open, blinking at him as her surroundings began to register with her. “Roy?” she asked, her words sounding dry.
“Right here.” With his free hand, he stroked her hair. “You’re safe now.”
Riza’s tongue moved over her dry, cracked lips and she seemed like she couldn’t rasp out the words. Roy slid an arm under her, lifting her against him, because it was easier than getting up and cranking up the head of the bed. He grabbed a glass with a straw in it from the bed stand. She drank greedily. When she was done, he set it aside and settled Riza back down.
Roy kissed her softly then said in a ragged voice. “I’m so sorry, Riza. I let them hurt you.”
Riza started to lift her arm then winced as the IV needle made itself known. “You weren’t even there, Roy. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t find you in time. I couldn’t save you.” Anguish harrowed into his soul.
“You got there before we died. They were going to kill us.” She reached for him with her other hand.
“They can’t hurt you any more, at least Cerulean can’t. I killed her but Kimblee was gone before we got there.” The look in Roy’s eyes was vicious.
Riza’s breath hitched at that then her face darkened. “Good. She killed our baby. I’m glad you finished her,” she spat then covered her mouth as a sob ripped out. She held out an arm to Roy.
He gathered her against him, mindful of the IV tubing. Roy rocked her as Riza wept uncontrollably. All he could do was chant, ‘I’m sorry’ while trying to remain strong for her. He fought to ignore the bleeding in his own heart, refusing to cry. Finally she ran out of tears and he settled her back as gently as priceless porcelain. Roy took out his handkerchief and let her wipe his face.
“You look so exhausted, Riza. Sleep now,” he said, stroking her lank hair. “I’ll watch over you until they make me go.”
Riza took his hand. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash, Roy. Don’t get yourself killed tonight.”
“Maes is staying with me. I won’t be going anywhere.” Seeing her look and interpreting it correctly, Roy added, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Maes, Riza. He didn’t want anyone to know. It wasn’t a matter of trust.”
“I know. Maes told me,” she said wearily. “I’m glad he’s not dead, Roy. I remember what burying him did to you.” Riza paused then added, “You didn’t know at the funeral that he was still alive, did you?”
“No.” Roy remembered what he had been like that night. He had nearly hurt her. He hated thinking about it. “We can talk about it later, Riza. You should get some sleep.”
She didn’t protest, nodding off quickly, leaving him alone with his pain.
X X X
“Sit and I’ll go get some bedding.” Roy pointed to the couch.
Maes sank heavily onto it, weary to the bone. “Leave it until later. Sit down and talk to me, Roy. You haven’t said anything.”
Roy flopped down next to his friend. “What is there to say? I failed her and all I could do was watch her cry.” The self-recriminations were loud in his voice.
“I hope you said it less harshly than that to Riza,” Maes said, resting a hand on Roy’s shoulder comfortingly.
Roy waved him off, wiggling way from his friend’s touch. “I was strong for her. That’s all I could do.”
Maes nodded, saying gently, “It’s okay to let her see your pain, too.”
Roy steeled his jaw as his eyes glistened. “She didn’t need to see me cry.”
“You don’t know that, Roy.” Maes sighed. “We tried to stop them, Winry and me, that’s how we ended up so dehydrated. Cerulean stopped us hard. Bound like we were, I didn’t know where we were going to run to anyhow should we have escaped. I didn’t want to give Kimblee any reason to come after us. It was bad enough what he did to Riza.”
Roy’s head snapped up. His eyes fastened on Maes and his friend paled under the heat of the gaze, realization setting in. “What?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Maes whispered. Horror lurked in his citrine eyes.
“Tell me what?” The words snapped as from the jaws of a feral dog.
“I shouldn’t.” Maes shook his head, his mouth twisted
“What did he do, Maes?” Roy growled, his hand clenching around Maes’ wrist.
“What do you think?” Maes’ words were soft but they hit Roy like a sledge.
Roy’s control shattered. He put a hand over his mouth, trying in vain to stem the loud sound, somewhere between a sob and a roar. Heedless of the tears rolling down his face, Roy kicked over the coffee table.
“Roy.” Maes reached for him and Roy shoved Maes away, jumping to his feet. He stalked around the room furiously, savage cries rumbling out of him. Roy took out his fury on helpless household items while Maes managed to drag himself to his feet to guard the door in case Roy decided to make a break for it. Finally, flesh met mirrored glass.
Roy snatched his gashed hand back from the hall mirror. “Shit.”
“Sit down and let me check it,” Maes said patiently.
Roy did so, a petulant look on his face. Maes eyeballed the damage then stabbed a finger at Roy. “Keep your ass on that couch. I’m going to get bandages. I’m too tired and weak to chase you and if I have to call for help to handle you, well, you wouldn’t want to see what Gracia will do to you if you make me strain myself.”
A harsh laugh bubbled up out of Roy but the anger faded from his eyes. Maes darted into the bathroom and got some bandages. Roy was right where Maes left him when he got back.
“I will kill him,” Roy muttered as Maes bandaged him up.
“I’ll help you but not tonight,” Maes said, his tone betraying his deep exhaustion.
“I’m tired,” Roy said but Maes wasn’t sure if that was merely to put him at ease or if it was the truth. “Feel like I haven’t slept in days. I feel so…empty.”
“Of course you do. People you love were tortured and violated. You lost your baby. No one’s blaming you for being all torn up,” Maes said gently, taping the dressing down.
“I can’t even think about the baby,” Roy said roughly, pulling away.
“Why don’t you just let go of all of this and let yourself be sad,” Maes suggested, rubbing Roy’s shoulder.
Roy gave him a look that said, ‘not in front of you.’
“You’re being such a guy.” Maes put his arm around Roy for a moment then let him go. “Go on, go to bed.”
Roy shook his head. “You go sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“I’m not putting you out of your bed.”
Roy sighed. “I give you my word I’m not running out of here tonight. You don’t have to guard the door.” Roy saw Maes’ expression and knew his friend wasn’t quite convinced. “I wasn’t the one held captive and tortured. Take the bed.”
“All right.” Maes got up. “I could use the bed right about now.”
Roy watched Maes go then got up and turned out the lights after getting himself some bedding. He stretched out on the couch, turning his face into the cushions and wept.
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