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The alarm pierced Riza’s eardrums, shaking her awake, tensing her neck and shoulders instantly.
Awake, but not enough to comprehend what was happening at once.
Alarm. Time to get up. Work.
Suddenly very aware of the shrieking sound, as well as the main in the whole of her body, she fumbled to her right to try and turn the offending noise off before it woke Roy or Havoc up.
She usually was awake a couple of minutes before the alarm rang, every day.
She only managed to knock the clock to the ground. Swearing internally, she hauled herself out of bed, aching everywhere, grabbed the alarm clock, turned it off, and slammed it so hard on the bedside table that it rang again.
Riza sighed. Long day ahead.
“Riza?”
Roy was half sitting in the bed, rubbing his scalp groggily, not even trying to know where she was. Jean was still sleeping between them, one arm over his eyes, his mouth open, and Riza had to bend and lean over him to catch Roy’s shoulder and squeeze it.
“You alright?” He was frowning now.
Curse him. He could always tell. Sometimes Riza thought that if he went deaf on top of being blind, he would still know how she was feeling. It was borderline scary, at times. Usually a relief, now, though. But the feelings weren’t mutually exclusive, it seemed.
She squeezed again, then patted him twice. Alright. Go back to sleep.
Roy’s mouth contorted into a dubitative scowl, but he said nothing, and laid back again, turning his back to her and Jean.
Riza breathed and closed her eyes before she got up. She stopped once standing as her head swam. Long day ahead, indeed.
She usually showered in the evening, and had the night before, but her whole body screamed for hot clean water — the second day was the worst, she thought, giving a tired look at the water soon running dark red around her feet. And given how sore she was, and the pounding behind her left eye that ran all the way to her elbow, today promised to be spectacular. She rubbed her eyes and turned up the heat, not hoping for anything.
The hot water relaxed some of her muscles, but she could still feel the soreness of her core, and knew it would spread back as soon as she cut the jet.
Stepping out of the bathtub asked for more strength than she usually would need. She had not felt like that since–
That was rare, but it happened. No need to freak out, Riza.
She was just finishing to dry her hair when she was startled by a knock on the door.
“Can I come in?”
Roy. He was normally asleep at this hour — he’d always been a night owl, but losing his sight had far from made things better.
When he didn’t get any response, Roy added : “I swear I won’t look.”
Riza shook her head with a sigh, then clicked her tongue once. Roy pushed the door in. He’d hastily thrown on a shirt that was suspiciously too big for him, and the wrong colour — Roy would never wear anything else than white, grey or black shirts, and this one was a dark purple. But he probably knew, what with the size and scent of the fabric. Roy was not going to be seen outside of the bedroom with a bare chest. Ever.
“How are you?” He closed the door behind himself and crossed his arms.
Riza had to sit on the side of the tub. She couldn’t stay upright that long without feeling worse. Her sigh said a lot more than she wished it did — since she woke up, it felt as if her lungs couldn't expand to get enough air by themselves. She pushed through the stiffness in her ribs, took a big breath, and let it out again.
“I want to call in sick for you.”
“No,” Riza could only ever whisper. “I have meetings.”
“You want me to drag you to the bedroom so Havoc can tell you you look like shit? Because I'd bet my rank and alchemy on that. You didn’t wake up. Your breathing is all wrong. Your periods aren't usually like that. You won’t get a medal for exhausting yourself.”
Riza wheezed at these last words. As usual, Roy was — unconsciously — taking advantage of her not being able to reply to rave on, only to work his foot into his mouth.
Her breathy laugh was enough for Roy to understand — his neck took a delicate pink colour.
“We’re past this now,” He said, lower, and with a pout. “I won’t let you.”
“Come,” she breathed. Roy walked towards her voice, sleep still clinging to his features, but his reactions quick as always. She caught his outstretched hand when she could reach it, and pulled him to her, their knees touching. Roy’s hands immediately raised to her temples, his thumbs rubbing her hairline. He frowned again.
“You’re clammy.”
“Shower,” Riza rolled her eyes.
Roy shook his head.
“Still. Riza, I can hear your–”
Riza shook her head, and Roy’s hands off. He placed them on her shoulders.
“You’re out of breath, aren’t you.” Not a question. “I know you can deal with it, you can push through it, and you’ll probably ace your work as usual.”
Riza couldn’t help a sharp huff. Stop this.
“But it’s not worth it.”
“Worth it for you but not anymore?”
His turn to roll his eyes and tilt his head backwards for emphasis. But he didn’t add anything, and stood there, shaking his head again. He slowly raised a hand to cup her cheek.
“Please. Let us take care of you?”
It was the us that did it. Not let me. Let us. Him and Jean, together, taking care of her. And she knew what it meant, for him, for Jean — and for her. People outside of their little arrangement usually took her for the caretaker ; and did it make her furious. She did, of course, help when she could, being the one who had no physical limitations. But who would have to call in sick for her right now? She needed them just like they needed her.
Roy’s thumb was caressing her cheekbone, and his hand was warm. Hot, even. So hot. She let her head rest onto his hand.
He had a soft smile, and whispered:
“Is that a yes?”
Riza forced a big breath in again.
“Yes.”
“Good. Do you need help to finish dressing up, or should I go make that call?”
“Call. Please.”
Roy nodded, but before he turned away, he cupped her face with both hands, and kissed her forehead.
Something poked Riza’s shoulder. She sighed, and curled up tighter on the sofa, pulling the plaid blanket with her. No matter how many painkillers she took, the soreness stayed, as well as the dull pulse beating in her fingertips, toes, and behind her eyes. She just had to get through it. Sleeping worked best.
She mentally thanked Roy for pushing her to stay home, and taking it upon himself to call in sick for her. She suspected it was also a way for him to get to pull rank, something he rarely had to do nowadays.
Another poke. And then a warm touch on her cheek. Soft strokes. A little tickle behind her ear.
Riza turned and opened her eyes, not without forcing in a deep breath.
“Hello.”
Jean smiled at her while she collected her thoughts. He must have snatched his shirt back from Roy.
“So Roy managed to make you stay.” He brushed the back of his hand on her cheek. “That man really can do miracles, can he?”
“I can hear you, you know!”
Roy was somewhere in the flat, maybe the kitchen, or maybe the bedroom. Riza should have known, but she was too tired. Her eyes fell closed again.
“Hey, hey, Riza.” Jean’s big — warm, so warm — hand rested on her head, caressing her hair. “Wake up. What do you want for breakfast?”
Riza shook her head. She didn’t want to eat.
“No, you need to eat something. Replenish that body, alright?” He poked the small of her back through the woolen plaid she’d wrapped herself in. “I got eggs. Some sausages. I can toast yesterday’s bread — or make, yes, what about lost bread? You’d like that?”
“I would.”
The sofa creaked. It seemed Roy was talking from above her ; indeed, when she opened her eyes, he was leaning over the backrest.
“I’m not asking you, Roy.”
Riza rolled her eyes, but smiled. Maybe, that was a good idea. Full of sugar and fat, wasn’t that going to help? She nodded, and tilted her head towards Roy. At least if she could eat only a mouthful or two, the meal wouldn’t be lost on everyone.
“I knew you’d like that. By the way,” Jean leaned to kiss her cheek, then rolled back. “She rolled her eyes at you, Roy.”
Riza turned back to lying facing the backrest, and she could see Roy shrug. Then he turned his attention towards her.
“It’s been a while. You want me to reheat that hot water bottle?”
Riza fumbled with the blanket to pull the rubber thing out, and poked Roy’s arm with it. He took it, feeling it with a frown.
“Ah yeah, it’s almost cold. Let me,” he said with a flourish as he slipped the bottle under his arm, clapped, then took it again in both his hands. There was a small flash, a buzz of static, and he held it back in her direction with a bright, self satisfied smile.
“Here you go!”
Riza grabbed the bottle, and his hand, which she brought to her lips to give it a kiss.
“Don’t worry about it.” His smile, small and soft, and the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes said something different.
Riza wasn’t worried ; Roy looked over the moon that he had not only helped, but done so using his alchemy.
He lingered a couple of minutes there, his hand sliding into her hair, but Jean called him to the kitchen and he left with a last stroke on her forehead. She curled back around the now hot — perfectly hot, not burning, just enough — water bottle and forced a couple of deep breaths again before she closed her eyes.
She woke up some short time later to the delicious smell of the bread cooking, and Jean growling.
“Stop this, you idiot. Do you want burns? That’s how blind men like you get burns. And I’m level with your crotch. Piss off !”
“I know more about burns than you — give me–”
“No! Riza first!”
The fussing noises stopped immediately, and Riza had a small smile. Both men were acting as if she was starving, and at death’s doorstep. It was both silly and comforting. It was just a bad period. Really bad, this time, alright. But nothing to fret about.
But she didn’t mind letting them take care of her.
“Here you go, Riza. Roy, table’s at nine. She can grab the plate from the couch.”
There was the noise of a plate on the side table above her head, then a hand groped for her shoulder, and pushed her gently.
“Sit up. I’ll sit with you.”
“You can tell him to fuck off, you know,” Jean sighed. “If he’s being too clingy.”
“I’m offering body warmth, and support,” Roy said as she took her time to sit up and lean against him. He curled his arm around her shoulders. “Can you eat?”
Riza had an amused huff. Her head swam a little as she shook her head, but it came back to normal quickly.
“Of course she can eat, give her the plate!”
“Isn’t the plate for all of us?” Roy asked, but obediently looking for the plate now by his side, and handing it to Riza, who took it, then shook his arm off, to sit with her back against his chest.
Her mouth watered at the sight and smell of the golden, gooey pieces of bread and batter that Jean had served with a generous amount of icing sugar, just the way–
“Just the way my mom does it!”
Riza smiled, poked the bread to check if it wasn’t too hot — and no, it was perfect again, and she suspected Roy to have tweaked the temperature, because most of her memories of eating lost bread started with her burning her tongue — and picked a piece to bite into it.
She’d been hungry, in fact. She just realised that as she wolfed down the couple of pieces that were in front of her almost at once, revelling in the soft texture, the mix of eggs and sugar. So much better with icing sugar, indeed, she had discovered with Jean.
She looked at him over the now empty plate and tried to smile with her mouth still full, which made Jean beam.
“Can I have a piece?” Roy asked, and Jean laughed out loud.
“Not of this batch, no. Riza’s wharfed them down.”
Roy whined, for form.
“Really? Riza, I thought you weren’t hungry!”
“Well, she was. I’ll go get the second plate.”
“Need help?”
Even Riza started getting up. Balancing a tray or plates on his knees was something Jean did often, but it didn’t always end up well. But he shot a warning look at Riza.
“No, don’t move.”
Roy did as he was told, apart from adjusting his position so Riza was really leaning against his chest and he could slide his arms around her. He nudged with his nose behind her ear.
“Keep eating. I’m giving you my portion.”
When Jean came back with some more, they split it between themselves almost equally, even if both Jean and Roy tried to feed her more. Riza did eat a lot more than she expected, but soon the fatigue caught up.
“Jean, what time is it?”
“Almost time, I think. I’ll turn it on, since you’re busy.”
“Thanks.”
Riza wanted to ask, but it asked for too much strength to make herself understood by Roy. However, as usual, he went ahead of her question.
“There’s a new radio play we’ve been following with Jean, since what, last week. It’s right at noon, so we listen to it during lunch, before I drag him to read some.”
“Some,” Jean repeated with a wince, coming back from the now turned on radio set.
He and Roy started telling her about the play… but the food laid nicely but heavily on Riza’s stomach, the warmth of Roy’s body against her back and the hot water bottle on her lap… She didn’t even hear the first five minutes of the show, and fell asleep again.
Somewhere, a hand was stroking her head, and another one was holding hers.