Violent Leisure ch 5
Title: Violent Leisure
Co-written with severed_sanity
Pairings: This chapter is Roy-centric, again, we’re going to ultimately end up with at least a GreedxKimbleexRoy
Warnings: Head games, Rape, torture This chapter: getting into after affects and mindsets
Rating: NC-17 without a doubt, this chapter? PG
Notes: We’re finally getting somewhere. None too certain if that’s a good thing mind, but we’re getting on with this half of the plot at least.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Maes felt a part of him cry out when she practically ran out the door. He should have explained things better, should have prepared her... should have had the fight with Roy just a scant hour before she arrived. He felt he caused this unnecessary conflict between Gracia and Roy and there wasn’t much he could do to mend the rift. He looked at Roy sadly. "That didn't go to well."
"I'm sorry." He put his hands against Maes' with the pained murmur, slowly relaxing now that it was just the two of them. His grip didn't ease off though. He was more or less huddled on that side of the tub. "I did my best to calm down."
"I know you tried. Clearly this was a bad idea amid a long line of bad ideas. But really Roy. It's Gracia. She'd sooner throw herself to those damned chimeras than hurt you." He tugged at his hands until they were free to wrap around slightly trembling shoulders. There was nothing to say and for a long moment nothing passed either's lips. That was until Maes looked down into the tub to note the color of the water. Only the color of the water wasn't what caught his attention, the color of the tub was. He stiffened slightly and pushed back to look down at his friend. "Roy, please tell me that you were not going to channel that towards Gracia."
He ducked his head, eyes closed tightly. He didn't want Maes to turn around and leave him alone now... "I made it when I heard the door. It was just a reaction. I'm sorry..." It was more plea than apology really. A bit of a desperate one at that. "I tried to calm down, I really did..."
He was actually angry, truly angry. How could his best friend even think of doing something like that? The man wouldn't hurt any innocent let alone an innocent woman without proper provocation. And all Gracia did was do as she was asked by Roy no less! And yet the flame alchemist was so close to the edge of insanity that he would have set his precious wife, mother of his beautiful daughter, ablaze in a panic. What the hell was wrong with him? How did Maes let it degrade this far... and could he fix it before it was to late to save either one? With a gentle hand, he cupped Roy's chin to bring his watery eyes upwards to meet his own.
"You need help. Repeat you need help. You were going to hurt Gracia because of this. Think about it Roy, you wouldn't hurt her no matter what the sweet woman did. Hell she practically ran you through and all you did was laugh it off after getting over the initial shock. We all laughed about it. But you almost killed her. I don't have any illusions about what you did during the war. I’ve seen the results... and I do not want Gracia to end up like that. Just as I do not want to have to protect her against you. She is your friend as well you know. She's seen you in just about every situation you and I have been in… and let’s not forget she was the one that took those incriminating photos of our naked arses that night. Though I do believe we have one of her dancing around in the skimpy maid's outfit you bought as a gag gift for our wedding."
He couldn't meet his gaze, and he blinked a few times as he felt tears leak free, eyes bleak. "I didn't. I didn't hurt her." It was a whimper, and he put his hands on the edge of the tub, blinking at the tears that wouldn't quit. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." If anything, that small interaction had done more to drag Roy down to wherever he'd been at right after Kimblee had left him than anything else had until then. "I need clothes... so I can try again, please?" He didn't care how completely pitiful he sounded now, just wanting to be hidden from the chin down so that there was some hope of him not panicking like he had when she'd first gotten here. If he'd actually carried through with the damn impulse... He would never have forgiven himself for it.
Maes nodded. It was the best thing to do. Gracia was right, it would make him feel less exposed and vulnerable. Something that Roy had in spades right now. It was still strange to interact with this cracked version of the man he was so use to being around. Mustang would face and challenge head on with wit and charisma, while this Roy was too worn and weary to face a housewife. He mentally slapped himself for that statement since Gracia was so much more than just a mere housewife. She was a damn good nurse, and level thinking, calm in any crisis... hell she helped deliver her own daughter. "Come on. I'll help you into the bedroom." He stood and offered his hand. "Then we'll see about feeding you. You're too skinny as it is. And yes I'm contradicting myself from earlier, but I'm allowed."
He took his hand, extracting himself from the tub, though he wavered as he stood, the rush of comparatively cold air causing him to shiver violently. He couldn't stop the tears though, and he bit his rather abused lower lip. "I'm so sorry..." And he couldn't seem to stop himself from the apologies. He was absolutely horrified that his first reaction was to strike out.
"I'm not the one you should apologize to. Gracia would appreciate it you know. I'm sure she wants to express her sorrows to you as well. She's a good woman. You ought to give her a chance." He calmly pulled Roy to his side and looped an arm around his waist. Picking up a towel along the way he steered his friend into the bedroom then onto the bed. The remains of their 'wake up call' still littered the bedside but it wasn't going to get in their way for now. He slowly began to towel the shivering figure off before tucking the towel around the man's lap. Maes turned towards the dresser and closet for something simple and easy to put on. What he found was a long sleeping shirt that he was pretty sure came from Roy's mother some years ago, a comfortable looking dark green robe and the necessary undergarments. Boxers were handy and Roy had plenty of them, now all Maes had to do is help get them on. Oh that was going to be fun.
"I will... I didn't hurt her, I made sure I didn't..." He couldn't really focus on the present just now, just caught up in the events of a moment before still, and he took a deep, ragged breath, trying to focus. He did blink a few times when he realized Maes was standing in front of him with an armload of clothes though.
"No you didn’t and we are both eternally grateful that you have restraint. But you came so close that it scares me. Not scared, scares. You don't realize what you are doing. I understand but still I can't help but shiver with the thought of what could have been. You didn't, she's fine, and now we need to get you dressed."
He blinked a few times to try and fight off a new rush of tears before he nodded a bit, extending his hand for one of the pieces that Maes had in his hands. "Yes, let's get me dressed."
Maes paused a moment when a wafting breeze carried the scent of the city outside into the dim room. It was shaping up to be another beautiful day, more warmth. Wait, warmth? That was Mustang's deal, not his, but suddenly he felt like it was his as well. He smiled and shook his head as he settled the clothing just to Roy's side. He leaned over to embrace his friend, "It's going to be a warm day." He didn’t really understand why he said it but once he did he felt better. He picked up the first article of clothing, the boxers, and knelt in front of the smaller man. "Welp, first things first."
He couldn't help a little quirk of his lips with that, a rather pathetically sad smile, but the urge to cry eased a little. His friend wasn’t going to hold his reactions against him. "Afraid I won't get them on this time either?" He moved his feet to accommodate the action, feeling a bit too tired to care.
"Well these are one of the largest pair you own. I take back what I said about you gaining weight. You freaking skinny as hell and aren't gaining an ounce. I'm not sure I like that too much." He said through huffs as he eased the material up his friend's legs until his hands met the mattress top. He looked up at Roy, "Brace against my shoulders and let’s see if we can get these on? If not then the nightshirt and the robe will be fine."
He quirked his lips a little, an almost wry expression, and he did as suggested, making room for Maes to get the material under him. "I'm not that skinny..." Not that he had anything to spare... It was like the man didn't eat.
"Oh please. You’re a pole and we both know it. I thought I was lean but you're making me look bad. Not to mention the height difference. I'm beginning to wonder about your health." He chuckled and slid the boxers the rest of the way up. With only a slight hitch over the rise of his friend's backside, in which he had to tilt himself forward, they went on rather smoothly. He helped Roy back onto the bed and went for the nightshirt. "Arms up if you please."
He followed the direction without really thinking about it. "There isn't anything wrong with my health... I just need to stop skipping lunch..." Seeing as he wasn't sure of the last time he'd even eaten lunch in the first place, it seemed like a rather sound idea.
"And dinner, and oh, maybe the occasional breakfast? I don't think I've ever seen you eat at the office unless Hawkeye forces something on you. The only time you really get a good meal in you is when you're over at the house of on one of your famous dinner dates with the locals. You'd think a wise man like yourself would know better than to let their body starve. Your brain is nice and all but it needs energy just like the rest of you does." He finished dragging the nightshirt over Roy's head and settled it around his waist. It was definitely something he never thought he'd ever see on his friend but all in all it wasn't to bad.
"I almost always get breakfast and dinner." It was a murmur, and he lowered his arms, sighing a little. "Truly, I do... I just catch drinks at work is all, coffee, hot chocolate, juice, whatever is floating around."
"Coffee, juice, whatever is floating around. Yes, I can see that's a nutritious meal alright. I believe my next mission is to fatten you up. Or at least get those adorable chubby cheeks you used to have back." He reached a hand up and patted Roy's unblemished cheek. "Now, the only thing left is the robe. Think you can face her now?"
"Yes... I think I'm calm enough now..." He offered Maes his hands for him to put the robe on him, and he studied the floor near the bed. "I don't need fattening up, I'm not ten anymore."
"So says the stick." Maes kidded gently slipping the robe around thin shoulders. Yes he noticed they were thin now. Broad, yes, but they lacked the meat behind the man. Maybe it was just him being overly protective or some such rot, but Roy needed taken care of right now and so far he was being the mother hen. Though, as soon as Roy got over whatever it was against Gracia, she would more than likely step in without hesitation. She was by far better at being a mother hen than he was.
"I'm not a stick." He dropped his hands after the robe was on, the material stinging on his currently uncovered wounds. "Either way, I want to eat now so could we, maybe?" He lifted his gaze to Maes, stopping just shy of meeting his eyes.
"Anything you say." He leaned over again and grasped his friend around the waist, hoisting him up to his feet. He opened his arm to expose his side for Roy to wrap his arms around him. "Whatever Gracia brought, it smells wonderful. Hopefully she brought enough to feed an army because you're not stopping on one helping 'Roy Lariel Mustang'." Maes did his best impression of Roy's mother as he could with a straight face. Of course it didn’t last long before he started snickering.
"My middle name is girly." He wrapped his arms around Maes without hesitation with the invitation. Sliding into a tight grip in no time flat, which meant that there would have to be a bit of coordination involved in getting him to the other room.
"Your mother was an odd bird as well. I'm just glad my mother disliked yours at the time of my birth. I'm not sure I could live down a name like Lariel. How you survived all these years with it, I'll never know. Of course you being the witty guy that you are and all, I'm sure it wasn't much of a burden." They successfully made it out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Now they just needed to get past the kitchen and to the couch.
"Could we lock the door before sitting, please?" He closed his eyes, letting Maes move him past the kitchen. At least he didn't get hit with his smell again this time. It was more of a relief than he'd thought it would be.
Gracia had settled herself in one of the overstuffed chairs sitting opposite Roy's couch sat a bit straighter and looked at them both over the rim of her glass. "I locked it awhile ago. Never like leaving doors open myself unless Maes is home." She sat her glass down beside a bowl of what looked to be meat stew and homemade bread. Two identical bowls sat on the small coffee table as if their users were fully expected at just that time. "I'll be in the kitchen taking care of the few dishes I saw piled beside the sink. Must have been your dishes the day before since it's just a plate and a couple of glasses. You two eat up and let me knew how you like the bread. It's a new recipe." She moved past the two and disappeared into the kitchen before either could protest.
Dark eyes flickered open with the comment, and he barely caught her evaluating glance before she was out of the room again. He followed her with his gaze, never once loosening his grip on Maes. "I suppose I'll try this again after we eat then."
Maes nodded and settled his friend onto the couch. He brought his friend's hand to the robe covered lap, then placed the bowl of warm stew against his palms. "She seems a bit shaken up, but otherwise fine. A little food in you will help calm your nerves, I know it will mine." He grinned when he turned back to his own bowl. "She does make the best homemade bread. Something her father taught her when she was just a girl. Also gave her her right hook."
"I think I'll be glad to never experience the latter thank you, the bruise you had when you two were dating was enough of a warning for me at the time." He picked up the bowl, collecting the spoon that had been more or less spinning around in it as he started to eat, slowly, as he completely focused on the warm dish in his hands. He was being a bit more obsessive about warmth than he usually was by any definition of it.
"That night was very educational. I'm glad I stole that kiss." Maes said around a bite of stew and bread. "She eventually said yes, so I won in the end."
"Only because I decided you were worth my time. And that fist to the face wasn't for the stolen kiss Maes," Gracia wasn't visible but the glare shone perfectly through her voice. "It was because your hands had a mind of their own."
Roy adjusted his position on the couch, shifting the bowl carefully to keep from spilling as he took the weight off his butt, instead having it more on his legs. "And that would be the other reason I never flirted with her. Her hearing is uncanny." Roy was still focused intently enough on the food he was barely paying attention to the conversation he was part of.
They could hear Gracia tsk loudly to herself and caught something that sounded strangely like, "So not my type, couldn't handle a strong woman anyway." But afterwards the only sounds from the kitchen were the running water and the clinking of dishes. Gracia practically melded within that little area, making it as if she wasn't really there. It wasn't like she was particularly jumping at the chance to confront Roy again. She wasn't as fool hearted as that. Besides, she knew exactly what he could do and just how thin a line she was walking. Things needed to be settled between them or nothing would be accomplished.
Maes chewed on the last of his bread thoughtfully as he watched Roy. Of course he knew this was going to take a long time to resolve and was in it for the long haul, but he wondered about the other man's mentality. There was almost nothing left of the self-sure character that readily identified in the Colonel as Roy Mustang. It was all cracked and falling apart like some dilapidated building in need of reconstruction. This is what was left for him to work with. It wasn't much, he was pretty sure all the pieces would never be found, and he was more than willing to hold them in place with bare hands if there was any chance that his best friend would return to how he was. "I'm not sure you would have survived her father. I barely did and the man liked me."
"Yes, well, you survived my mother, a person could survive anything after that." He didn't look up, focused on sponging the bowl of the last remnants of stew. He was positively starving, and he'd eaten his food with a careful deliberation that left nothing in the bowl when he finally finished. "And flirting isn't the same as trying to date."
"And that's why you are still single my friend. You go about thinking that the two are completely unrelated." He gave him an amused smile. "Really shouldn't flirt with those that you can't possibly see yourself with in a romantic, or platonic for that matter, relationship. It does neither part any good to get mixed signals. Of course if you prefer to stick with your usual formula of getting dumped or dumping every other week... well I can't very well take away your hobby." Maes had almost moved to his feet when his wife came into view with two more steaming bowls topped with more bread. He studied her face as she placed the bowls on the coffee table and cleared away the empty ones, careful not to touch Roy or venture too close for that matter.
Roy shook his head a little, tucking his feet more carefully under himself as he collected the new bowl, apparently focusing on that almost immediately, still only paying that abstract attention to his surroundings. He didn't really tense up when Gracia was near this time. "I can't really see myself with anyone anyway, so it isn't that much of a problem."
"Hmmm… I'm not sure that is the case. I think you just enjoy skirting around commitment." That was the only reply his friend received from him as he to took to his own bowl of soup. He found it particularly ironic that he was talking about commitment to the famous hound dog of Central. Poor Roy, he could have any girl, or guy for that matter, that he wanted and yet still couldn't find that one special person, or persons, that would make him happy for the rest of their lives. Maes was the lucky one in that respect, he found Gracia. Or rather, was clobbered over the head by the woman.
"I have nothing against commitment." He shook his head a little, a smile flitting over his face. His friend was so oblivious sometimes. So completely oblivious. The people he most trusted were inaccessible, so he'd simply do without. He'd been working on that premise for years.
"Well maybe not but you seem to. That's the point I suppose." Somewhere along the way they'd gotten off the subject of Roy's current problems. Strange how food can effectively distract people from things as serious as murder. Again he watched his wife enter the room silently to provide fresh drinks then slink back out of view. Then again it distraction wasn't exactly what they needed. They needed to resolve whatever issues they could between his wife and best friend so they could all come together and heal Roy. That didn't look like it was going to happen in the near future but if all were willing... they could reach that happy place.
Roy shook his head a little, finishing off the bowl yet again before carefully leaning to put it down, collecting the drink. "It isn't actually, but... that isn't the point either. Everything in my life is about trust. That's all." He shook his head and sipped at his glass. "I'm calm now."
Gracia almost laughed in lost humor. From the kitchen she could hear those two perfectly and it had nothing to do with her great hearing. It was to damn quiet in this place. The walls were too close together for her tastes because they effectively rebounded sound vibrations and scattered them around the entire living area. She bet that she could shut herself in Roy's closet and still be able to hear what those two were talking about. It was all a silly musing of hers since she despised the silence. Only one of three true fears of hers, silence. Food to calm the savage beast. She thought grimly nearly biting her tongue in an effort to atone for calling Roy a savage beast. Cautiously she reentered the living area and skirted the empty chair closest to Roy but farthest from actually being in his personal space. No repeats of the bathroom. She would choose to the passive route this time and let all things happen as they happened. But she didn't want it to take too long. She could see the angry looking bite marks against Roy's neck and had a fairly good idea that it only got worse as one traveled downwards.
"The meal was perfect darling, as always. Have to make that more often." Maes was obviously trying to be cheerful, but she caught the subtle undertones of worry and stress.
Roy finished his drink and sat it exactly where he'd picked it up from the table at, a slow, precise set of movements. He couldn't bring himself to look at her as he sat back on his legs again, going for the least pained position he could manage. His voice was very quiet. "I didn't mean to react like that... I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about. I entered the situation with a firm grip on the consequences of my actions and wouldn't have blamed you for whatever you would have done." A small lie to ease the suffering of both parties was a small concession and one she would gladly indulge. "I am, however, sorry that I didn't take stock of the situation before I ran straight into it. So we're both sorry."
He nodded a little, still not looking up, and he took a breath. "I suppose I should let you look at me at some point, shouldn't I?" He leaned into Maes, unhappy with how chilled he felt just thinking about exposing any of his wounds. But they needed to be rewrapped anyway.
She nodded, "At some point I think that would be best. I won't lie, it will probably be very embarrassing to show me and you will more than likely be very uncomfortable during the entire process... but it needs to be done. Neither of us want you to be in pain nor fall ill because of non-treatment of your injuries. I won't rush you in my haste to help, we'll take it very slow and only proceed when you feel you are ready."
Maes echoed the nod and gave Roy's shoulder a gentle squeeze after he slipped his arm around them again. "And I'll be there the entire time to provide some kind of buffer."
Roy quirked his lips in dry amusement, unable to help looking to Maes with that one. "Sometimes I wonder if you two share a mind... It'll be okay... I just... panicked a little earlier, that's all." He let out a breath. "Best do it in layers really." He was almost babbling in the soft tone of voice.
Gracia did laugh at that, soft and subtle. "If we share a mind, then I believe Maes needs to explain why he's thinking about dress sizes." It was a bit of a frayed path coming from injury and pain to her worries on weight loss/gain. Just seemed to fit, she supposed, but soon she redirected it back to the straight and narrow. "Layers are a good place to start. Just small things first. I would like to see your arms first and perhaps your feet. I noticed you were limping earlier."
He hesitated, then tugged at the robe, pulling it off his shoulders and letting it hide his lower body from the waist on as he didn't unfold. Instead he tugged on his sleeve, pulling the left one up, as the material left plenty of room to do it that way. The nail imprints on palm and wrist were really the brightest red, having been bleeding before. He extended his hand to her after a moment's pause. "I doubt I'll be able to be very graceful for a while yet."
When he offered his hand freely she took that as a sign she was allowed closer and took the opportunity to cross the small patch of area and settle herself on the coffee table. The bowl and glass were quickly moved away before she sat but forgotten just as quickly. Her small hands slowly grasped at Roy's thicker one, one cupping the wrist and palm with the other gently glided over the injuries without really touching them. His hand wasn't warm, nor cold, but slightly less than she'd wanted them to be, they were also a bit pruned and clammy. His bath from earlier could explain away both easily but that didn't mean she had to like the clammy bit. She looked over his face and noted that he had a slight fever by the dilation in his pupils and the small sheen of sweet that lined his scalp and hairline. She was fairly sure that wasn't due to the bath since the pupils were telling her of neglect.
Her bottom hand provided a needed warmth to the wrist to help her gauge the extent of the fever, to see if it had spread this far. She was happy to note that though his hand was a bit damp it wasn't giving off excess heat. A good sign that she'd caught the fever in its early stages. Which also meant that Roy was worse off than she'd hoped. Her eyes quickly averted to the appendage in her hands. Her frown showed her displeasure but her eyes were soft in their analysis. Some topical herbs, a light bandage, and some soothing antibiotic spread cream would be best for these.
Roy watched her for a moment before shaking his hand to drop the other sleeve, and he extended that hand as well, somewhat soothed by the hand Maes had on him. This wrist was worse than the other. The burns started closer to the wrist, so they were actually visible from under the fall of the sleeve. The scratches had actually torn a bit too.
From one to the other she gently placed Roy's first offered hand into his lap, then immediately took up the second. She chewed the inside of her bottom lip as she looked over the extent of these injuries. Most were the same but by far this was the worst of the two. She leaned slightly over the back of his hand then bent slightly to the side to look under it. She was looking for something and found it when she reexamined the wrist area of both sides. This was the hand that was the first to be attacked. There were small track lines against the skin that burrowed beneath the burns indicating that whatever type of restraint that was used this hand was the first. The force it would have taken to imprint the tracks onto the skin alone told her as much but the sheer volume of severity that this one had compared to the other was more of a give away.
Nodding to herself she lowered that hand as well. She moved from the coffee table and disappeared behind them to retrieve her slightly bulky purse. It wasn't the little brown one she normally carried around with her on days out, this one was a dark gray color and at least double the size. Retaking her seat she opened the bag and began to rummage through the contents. In moments three small bottles were lined side by side beside her and her bag on the floor at her feet. "These will help. I won't put them on just yet since we've a lot more ground to cover but just to let you know that I've something for them."
Roy sighed out a breath, then untucked his feet, leaning against Maes as he made it so she could actually have access to the friction burns on his ankles and the explosion burns on his legs. His mind drifted a little. Really, Kimblee was the only other person he'd met who had as much of a fascination for fire as him.
She took great care in letting her hands become accustomed to the temperature of the exposed flesh. She didn't let her warmth overpower his nor vice versa so it was a delicate game of balance. This took a slightly longer time to catalogue and gauge because of just how much of the exposed flesh had been injured. No it didn't travel up the legs but it did travel around the entire ankle and part of the calf. More topical solution, gauze, and there was a good chance he needed some extensive nerve repair where the restraints were on the ankles. The smaller, more localized burns dotting along the upper leg were slightly blistered but there were no puss rises so it told her that the contact with the heated object. Or explosion, as she began to believe they were by the sheer number and shape of them along both legs, wasn't very long and had lost heat after contact.
He'd only showed her from the knees and elbows out, so the array of hand sized bruises that were from about the knees up weren't exposed. He hesitated a little at this point, then tugged a bit at his pajama top. The silence was keeping this from getting harder than it was.
She sat back, placing her hands in her lap while watching Roy's reaction. He hadn't so much as twitched when she was examining his wrists but she felt the slight tension when she moved along his legs. She had a feeling that if she would have strayed any closer to his lower thighs that she'd be nursing either a sore cheek or asking the creator of all things what went wrong. Roy was like that, he either did things in extremes when stressed or went for the quick solution. Either one were not welcome at the moment so she was happy enough to wait everything out.
Maes was being surprisingly quiet during the process. He had been both fascinated and amazed at his wife's abilities beforehand, but he never really got to witness her in action beyond their home. He never was able to stomach the wards in which she had worked before they had their daughter, it reminded him too strongly of the war. But now, watching her work her quiet magic on his best friend did it's level best in entrancing him in the process. But he was still aware enough to accept Roy's weight with comfort and support and a gentle squeeze here and there as those cream color hands worked against the pale olive.
Roy finally let out a breath, tugging the robe up to cover as much as possible, then he transferred his attention to the long nightshirt. He turned his gaze to Maes, more or less asking him to coordinate his efforts since he couldn’t both hang onto the protective robe and get the shirt off at the same time.
"Best get the shirt then." Maes whispered when he caught the look, moving his hands to rest atop the robe puddled in his friend's lap. It would give Roy a sense of security, he supposed, if he kept his wife from trying to get at the robe. But he knew she wouldn't. Gracia would wait until the end of time or until her patient desperately needed the help (ie. dying/passed out) before she would take their security from them. She had the patience of a saint and the will of a god. Handy that she was on their side, really.
"Yeah..." Roy tugged the shirt off, having to lean onto his feet a bit when he tugged it from under himself, then he sat back, tugging it fully off. He wasted no time dragging the robe up against his chest, hiding the red that was all over him. Even a glimpse had been enough to tell that he had more injuries waiting to be looked at. The burns were the worst from the elbows up, accompanied by bruising along his collarbone.
Again she kept her face neutral though her alarm was blaring full gale in her ears. Kimblee was a truly horrible person to have done something like this to another human being and it made her feel worse knowing that she cared deeply for the current victim. She had always been a quiet pacifist during the war, willing to help anyone that came to the hospital rather than be bigoted and turn away someone just because they were on 'the wrong side'. She'd also seen some very horrific things in her time as a nurse. Gunshot wounds, beatings, alchemy accidents, and more than her share of deaths. Staring at the deep purplish green, nearly black, spreading from one side of Roy's torso to the other with scratches, burns, bite marks, and what looked to be a razor or knife track, Gracia Hughes though she might actually be able to take a life if she ever had clear shot at Kimblee.
Roy took a breath and lowered the robe so it was only fully obscuring his lower body, and he pressed closer to Maes. He dearly wanted to cover back up, but the wounds needed to be assessed. So he'd make himself be fine until he could be calm properly. This meant he shut down his reactions in general, silencing the part of his mind that was even feeling the pain at the moment as he waited. He hadn't cared for the design that Kimblee had seemed to be making on him, though that might have been purely his imagination because of the blade.
She rubbed her warm palms against her knees before she leaned forward to press them against the marred chest. It was horrible, the cuts and bruising and the burns alone made her stomach want to revolt. But she suffered silently, not wanting to cause more discomfort. The bruising wasn't as serious as it looked spread across the chest as it was. Mostly superficial and nothing underneath. But the deepest purple ones she paid close attention to. Those were the ones that went straight to the muscle and indicated great force or pressure. She prodded at a few of them to measure the damage then moved onto the burns. More burn cream would be needed and definitely some nerve work. They weren't too bad but bad enough to make her worry.
He barely twitched away from the pressure, fingers curled tightly into the robe in his lap, and he shifted until his back was fully pressed against Maes, eyes closed. The scratches... When she touched those, he leaned away. After all, those were the marks that most had betrayed him. Of course, his entire chest had been oiled at one point, so all the wounds there had to be a bit off.
Gracia glanced up when she felt him shy away from her hands but they didn't linger. They returned to the battlefield of injuries to help direct her hands effectively. This was going to take some time and effort to correct all the damage but she had the basics of what they needed in her bag and she was sure her husband would gladly provide anything else she needed. Though she had a feeling that she would be the one going to get them since Roy didn't trust her as he did Maes.
Roy opened his eyes to look at her, pressing closer to Maes without really trying to get away. More like he was trying to seep the comfort straight out of him without need for the intermediary. "You have to... see the other stuff too, don't you?"
She tried to offer a reassuring smile but she knew it was a bit weak from worry, "Yes. I'll need to tend them all if you are to get better. But I won't make you show me now unless you want to. I'm not going to make this any harder on you than it already is."
Maes sought out his friend's hand and cupped it within his own. "It'll be alright Roy. Everything will be fine. She won't hurt you and I'll be right there. Alright?"
Roy made a small sound that could have ranged anywhere from the start of a chuckle to a cut off sob. "I just want this done... I don't want to draw it out. I really don't." He took a shaky breath and unclenched his hand from the robe, the other moving it aside.
"Shh, it's okay. You're not drawing anything out. Take your time. It's important that you are ready for this as much as I am. If you want to wait we will wait." Gracia assured though she was silently supporting him to just let her. This would be terrible for the both of them but it would be over with in the matter of moments. Just let her examine the problem then they would set about fixing it.
"No waiting." He shook his head, moving the robe fully aside after taking a deep breath, revealing the hand shaped bruises that underscored the burns trailing the inside of his thighs right up under his boxers.
Maes had seen them all before, the bruises, cuts, burns; but it still made his stomach clench painfully along with his chest. He wanted to kill Kimblee but he knew that he would have a hard time tracking someone that supposedly was dead. And even harder to kill an alchemist that specialized in explosions. But he figured that one clear shot and he'd pin the man right between the eyes. It made him see red.
Gracia was having a hard time containing her hurt as the tears prickled at her eyes. She ran a hand over them to stave the water from leaking out though. She wanted to remain passive and professional. But this was her friend, her family that was hurt and it hurt her doubly because of it. She never understood how anyone could be so depraved so inhuman to do something like this. But the world was full of people just like that that had no qualms about leaving pain and devastation in their wake. Poor Roy... one had found him. "They go all the way up then?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah." Roy let out a breath. "The others go all the way down as well... for the most part." Seeing as Kimblee had been too entranced by the scar he bore, he'd left that area alone after discovery.
The nurse nodded then went to tug the robe closed again. She didn't need to see the rest to know what she would find. True she would have to see it to treat it but she had a very good idea what to expect. That left getting the rest of what she needed. More gauze, medical tape, and at least two more bottles of antiseptic. She wanted him numb when she would have to pack his wounds. The less pain the better... and Maes would more than likely have to help. Not something she wanted to share with her husband because she had wanted to spare him seeing his best friend like this. But then again, he'd been with him since yesterday. She was pretty sure he'd seen it all.
Roy accepted the robe immediately, wrapping the material close around him as he shivered. He'd been almost completely still for the examination, but now he was simply freezing. "I'm cold again Maes."
"Can't have that now can we?" The taller man answered with a sad smile. "Gracia… would you mind going to get the covers piled on the bed? You know how Roy is. He can't stand being cold."
She was more than happy for the distraction. It would give her time to compose herself and prepare for what was to come next. She nodded and jumped to her feet. Soon she disappeared down the hall and into Roy's bedroom without a word.
"I don't usually get cold quite so easily." He curled closer to Maes, turning his body a bit so he could tuck his face against him. "Sure, I get cold easy, but not usually this easy. It’s not winter, no reason for it."
Maes pulled the man closer to him and settled back into the cushions. "It's probably because you're over tired and stressed. Losing too much body heat like that maybe? But hey, I'm the portable heater here so be quiet already."
That earned a quiet chuckle, and Roy put his considerable grip to use in plastering himself against his best friend again, heedless of his wounds as he set about getting as close as humanly possible. "How can I forget, you're always warm, even when you think you're cold."
"What can I say? I'm a human icebox unto myself. I have way too much fun sticking my hands and feet on Gracia when we're in bed. She makes the cutest sounds when startled." He chuckled lightly bringing a hand around to rest on Roy's side. "So forgive me if I believe I'm the perfect snow man."
He shook his head, nuzzling in against Maes a bit before the lingering tension seeped away for the moment. It would come back, but he was fine, and Maes was letting him hang all over him. "You've never been an ice-man. If you had, I wouldn't have ever raided your bed."
"Oh you say that now but I remember, distinctly, one summer night when you decided my bed was better. I let you get almost asleep then stuck my hand under your shirt." He was laughing a bit heavier now with the memory. "Never seen you jump so high in my life! Got a good sore back when you dumped me from my own bed but was well worth it."
"You deserved it. I was comfortable, and you up and did that. Besides, you stole my pillow that day anyway, it was only fair I go after it... and unfair for you to use the one occasion you've been cold on me." He huffed, nuzzling closer.
Maes rolled his eyes and seriously considered sticking his chilly hand between the couch and Roy's back for a laugh. Oh well... another day. Instead he gently hugged his friend one armed while his other ruffled the man's hair. "I was merely defending my point. You think I'm warm and I think I'm cold. Perspective is everything I suppose."
"Warmth isn't all physical Maes." He shook his head, shivering a little, and he slid so he was more or less settled in his lap, curled up there as he tried to duck the cold. He was, however, wondering about those blankets. Mental warmth really only helped the physical along so far, and it was downright chilly in there.
She had gotten the covers gathered up in record time as soon as she spotted them on the bed but once she had them in hand she was unable to make herself turn around and go back into the living room. She sank onto the mattress and wish for nothing more than an ease of her headache. The bleach fumes hadn't been good for her to begin with and she spent most of her time in that blamed kitchen. It felt so wrong in there but she stayed to give Roy and her husband space. Then the exam itself was a strain on her resolve. How many times did she want to break down or get angry? It would have felt good to get some of that off her chest but it would scare poor Roy half to death. He'd never seen her really upset before, and that one day had been only a glimpse at her fury.
Co-written with severed_sanity
Pairings: This chapter is Roy-centric, again, we’re going to ultimately end up with at least a GreedxKimbleexRoy
Warnings: Head games, Rape, torture This chapter: getting into after affects and mindsets
Rating: NC-17 without a doubt, this chapter? PG
Notes: We’re finally getting somewhere. None too certain if that’s a good thing mind, but we’re getting on with this half of the plot at least.
Chapter one
Chapter Two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Maes felt a part of him cry out when she practically ran out the door. He should have explained things better, should have prepared her... should have had the fight with Roy just a scant hour before she arrived. He felt he caused this unnecessary conflict between Gracia and Roy and there wasn’t much he could do to mend the rift. He looked at Roy sadly. "That didn't go to well."
"I'm sorry." He put his hands against Maes' with the pained murmur, slowly relaxing now that it was just the two of them. His grip didn't ease off though. He was more or less huddled on that side of the tub. "I did my best to calm down."
"I know you tried. Clearly this was a bad idea amid a long line of bad ideas. But really Roy. It's Gracia. She'd sooner throw herself to those damned chimeras than hurt you." He tugged at his hands until they were free to wrap around slightly trembling shoulders. There was nothing to say and for a long moment nothing passed either's lips. That was until Maes looked down into the tub to note the color of the water. Only the color of the water wasn't what caught his attention, the color of the tub was. He stiffened slightly and pushed back to look down at his friend. "Roy, please tell me that you were not going to channel that towards Gracia."
He ducked his head, eyes closed tightly. He didn't want Maes to turn around and leave him alone now... "I made it when I heard the door. It was just a reaction. I'm sorry..." It was more plea than apology really. A bit of a desperate one at that. "I tried to calm down, I really did..."
He was actually angry, truly angry. How could his best friend even think of doing something like that? The man wouldn't hurt any innocent let alone an innocent woman without proper provocation. And all Gracia did was do as she was asked by Roy no less! And yet the flame alchemist was so close to the edge of insanity that he would have set his precious wife, mother of his beautiful daughter, ablaze in a panic. What the hell was wrong with him? How did Maes let it degrade this far... and could he fix it before it was to late to save either one? With a gentle hand, he cupped Roy's chin to bring his watery eyes upwards to meet his own.
"You need help. Repeat you need help. You were going to hurt Gracia because of this. Think about it Roy, you wouldn't hurt her no matter what the sweet woman did. Hell she practically ran you through and all you did was laugh it off after getting over the initial shock. We all laughed about it. But you almost killed her. I don't have any illusions about what you did during the war. I’ve seen the results... and I do not want Gracia to end up like that. Just as I do not want to have to protect her against you. She is your friend as well you know. She's seen you in just about every situation you and I have been in… and let’s not forget she was the one that took those incriminating photos of our naked arses that night. Though I do believe we have one of her dancing around in the skimpy maid's outfit you bought as a gag gift for our wedding."
He couldn't meet his gaze, and he blinked a few times as he felt tears leak free, eyes bleak. "I didn't. I didn't hurt her." It was a whimper, and he put his hands on the edge of the tub, blinking at the tears that wouldn't quit. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." If anything, that small interaction had done more to drag Roy down to wherever he'd been at right after Kimblee had left him than anything else had until then. "I need clothes... so I can try again, please?" He didn't care how completely pitiful he sounded now, just wanting to be hidden from the chin down so that there was some hope of him not panicking like he had when she'd first gotten here. If he'd actually carried through with the damn impulse... He would never have forgiven himself for it.
Maes nodded. It was the best thing to do. Gracia was right, it would make him feel less exposed and vulnerable. Something that Roy had in spades right now. It was still strange to interact with this cracked version of the man he was so use to being around. Mustang would face and challenge head on with wit and charisma, while this Roy was too worn and weary to face a housewife. He mentally slapped himself for that statement since Gracia was so much more than just a mere housewife. She was a damn good nurse, and level thinking, calm in any crisis... hell she helped deliver her own daughter. "Come on. I'll help you into the bedroom." He stood and offered his hand. "Then we'll see about feeding you. You're too skinny as it is. And yes I'm contradicting myself from earlier, but I'm allowed."
He took his hand, extracting himself from the tub, though he wavered as he stood, the rush of comparatively cold air causing him to shiver violently. He couldn't stop the tears though, and he bit his rather abused lower lip. "I'm so sorry..." And he couldn't seem to stop himself from the apologies. He was absolutely horrified that his first reaction was to strike out.
"I'm not the one you should apologize to. Gracia would appreciate it you know. I'm sure she wants to express her sorrows to you as well. She's a good woman. You ought to give her a chance." He calmly pulled Roy to his side and looped an arm around his waist. Picking up a towel along the way he steered his friend into the bedroom then onto the bed. The remains of their 'wake up call' still littered the bedside but it wasn't going to get in their way for now. He slowly began to towel the shivering figure off before tucking the towel around the man's lap. Maes turned towards the dresser and closet for something simple and easy to put on. What he found was a long sleeping shirt that he was pretty sure came from Roy's mother some years ago, a comfortable looking dark green robe and the necessary undergarments. Boxers were handy and Roy had plenty of them, now all Maes had to do is help get them on. Oh that was going to be fun.
"I will... I didn't hurt her, I made sure I didn't..." He couldn't really focus on the present just now, just caught up in the events of a moment before still, and he took a deep, ragged breath, trying to focus. He did blink a few times when he realized Maes was standing in front of him with an armload of clothes though.
"No you didn’t and we are both eternally grateful that you have restraint. But you came so close that it scares me. Not scared, scares. You don't realize what you are doing. I understand but still I can't help but shiver with the thought of what could have been. You didn't, she's fine, and now we need to get you dressed."
He blinked a few times to try and fight off a new rush of tears before he nodded a bit, extending his hand for one of the pieces that Maes had in his hands. "Yes, let's get me dressed."
Maes paused a moment when a wafting breeze carried the scent of the city outside into the dim room. It was shaping up to be another beautiful day, more warmth. Wait, warmth? That was Mustang's deal, not his, but suddenly he felt like it was his as well. He smiled and shook his head as he settled the clothing just to Roy's side. He leaned over to embrace his friend, "It's going to be a warm day." He didn’t really understand why he said it but once he did he felt better. He picked up the first article of clothing, the boxers, and knelt in front of the smaller man. "Welp, first things first."
He couldn't help a little quirk of his lips with that, a rather pathetically sad smile, but the urge to cry eased a little. His friend wasn’t going to hold his reactions against him. "Afraid I won't get them on this time either?" He moved his feet to accommodate the action, feeling a bit too tired to care.
"Well these are one of the largest pair you own. I take back what I said about you gaining weight. You freaking skinny as hell and aren't gaining an ounce. I'm not sure I like that too much." He said through huffs as he eased the material up his friend's legs until his hands met the mattress top. He looked up at Roy, "Brace against my shoulders and let’s see if we can get these on? If not then the nightshirt and the robe will be fine."
He quirked his lips a little, an almost wry expression, and he did as suggested, making room for Maes to get the material under him. "I'm not that skinny..." Not that he had anything to spare... It was like the man didn't eat.
"Oh please. You’re a pole and we both know it. I thought I was lean but you're making me look bad. Not to mention the height difference. I'm beginning to wonder about your health." He chuckled and slid the boxers the rest of the way up. With only a slight hitch over the rise of his friend's backside, in which he had to tilt himself forward, they went on rather smoothly. He helped Roy back onto the bed and went for the nightshirt. "Arms up if you please."
He followed the direction without really thinking about it. "There isn't anything wrong with my health... I just need to stop skipping lunch..." Seeing as he wasn't sure of the last time he'd even eaten lunch in the first place, it seemed like a rather sound idea.
"And dinner, and oh, maybe the occasional breakfast? I don't think I've ever seen you eat at the office unless Hawkeye forces something on you. The only time you really get a good meal in you is when you're over at the house of on one of your famous dinner dates with the locals. You'd think a wise man like yourself would know better than to let their body starve. Your brain is nice and all but it needs energy just like the rest of you does." He finished dragging the nightshirt over Roy's head and settled it around his waist. It was definitely something he never thought he'd ever see on his friend but all in all it wasn't to bad.
"I almost always get breakfast and dinner." It was a murmur, and he lowered his arms, sighing a little. "Truly, I do... I just catch drinks at work is all, coffee, hot chocolate, juice, whatever is floating around."
"Coffee, juice, whatever is floating around. Yes, I can see that's a nutritious meal alright. I believe my next mission is to fatten you up. Or at least get those adorable chubby cheeks you used to have back." He reached a hand up and patted Roy's unblemished cheek. "Now, the only thing left is the robe. Think you can face her now?"
"Yes... I think I'm calm enough now..." He offered Maes his hands for him to put the robe on him, and he studied the floor near the bed. "I don't need fattening up, I'm not ten anymore."
"So says the stick." Maes kidded gently slipping the robe around thin shoulders. Yes he noticed they were thin now. Broad, yes, but they lacked the meat behind the man. Maybe it was just him being overly protective or some such rot, but Roy needed taken care of right now and so far he was being the mother hen. Though, as soon as Roy got over whatever it was against Gracia, she would more than likely step in without hesitation. She was by far better at being a mother hen than he was.
"I'm not a stick." He dropped his hands after the robe was on, the material stinging on his currently uncovered wounds. "Either way, I want to eat now so could we, maybe?" He lifted his gaze to Maes, stopping just shy of meeting his eyes.
"Anything you say." He leaned over again and grasped his friend around the waist, hoisting him up to his feet. He opened his arm to expose his side for Roy to wrap his arms around him. "Whatever Gracia brought, it smells wonderful. Hopefully she brought enough to feed an army because you're not stopping on one helping 'Roy Lariel Mustang'." Maes did his best impression of Roy's mother as he could with a straight face. Of course it didn’t last long before he started snickering.
"My middle name is girly." He wrapped his arms around Maes without hesitation with the invitation. Sliding into a tight grip in no time flat, which meant that there would have to be a bit of coordination involved in getting him to the other room.
"Your mother was an odd bird as well. I'm just glad my mother disliked yours at the time of my birth. I'm not sure I could live down a name like Lariel. How you survived all these years with it, I'll never know. Of course you being the witty guy that you are and all, I'm sure it wasn't much of a burden." They successfully made it out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Now they just needed to get past the kitchen and to the couch.
"Could we lock the door before sitting, please?" He closed his eyes, letting Maes move him past the kitchen. At least he didn't get hit with his smell again this time. It was more of a relief than he'd thought it would be.
Gracia had settled herself in one of the overstuffed chairs sitting opposite Roy's couch sat a bit straighter and looked at them both over the rim of her glass. "I locked it awhile ago. Never like leaving doors open myself unless Maes is home." She sat her glass down beside a bowl of what looked to be meat stew and homemade bread. Two identical bowls sat on the small coffee table as if their users were fully expected at just that time. "I'll be in the kitchen taking care of the few dishes I saw piled beside the sink. Must have been your dishes the day before since it's just a plate and a couple of glasses. You two eat up and let me knew how you like the bread. It's a new recipe." She moved past the two and disappeared into the kitchen before either could protest.
Dark eyes flickered open with the comment, and he barely caught her evaluating glance before she was out of the room again. He followed her with his gaze, never once loosening his grip on Maes. "I suppose I'll try this again after we eat then."
Maes nodded and settled his friend onto the couch. He brought his friend's hand to the robe covered lap, then placed the bowl of warm stew against his palms. "She seems a bit shaken up, but otherwise fine. A little food in you will help calm your nerves, I know it will mine." He grinned when he turned back to his own bowl. "She does make the best homemade bread. Something her father taught her when she was just a girl. Also gave her her right hook."
"I think I'll be glad to never experience the latter thank you, the bruise you had when you two were dating was enough of a warning for me at the time." He picked up the bowl, collecting the spoon that had been more or less spinning around in it as he started to eat, slowly, as he completely focused on the warm dish in his hands. He was being a bit more obsessive about warmth than he usually was by any definition of it.
"That night was very educational. I'm glad I stole that kiss." Maes said around a bite of stew and bread. "She eventually said yes, so I won in the end."
"Only because I decided you were worth my time. And that fist to the face wasn't for the stolen kiss Maes," Gracia wasn't visible but the glare shone perfectly through her voice. "It was because your hands had a mind of their own."
Roy adjusted his position on the couch, shifting the bowl carefully to keep from spilling as he took the weight off his butt, instead having it more on his legs. "And that would be the other reason I never flirted with her. Her hearing is uncanny." Roy was still focused intently enough on the food he was barely paying attention to the conversation he was part of.
They could hear Gracia tsk loudly to herself and caught something that sounded strangely like, "So not my type, couldn't handle a strong woman anyway." But afterwards the only sounds from the kitchen were the running water and the clinking of dishes. Gracia practically melded within that little area, making it as if she wasn't really there. It wasn't like she was particularly jumping at the chance to confront Roy again. She wasn't as fool hearted as that. Besides, she knew exactly what he could do and just how thin a line she was walking. Things needed to be settled between them or nothing would be accomplished.
Maes chewed on the last of his bread thoughtfully as he watched Roy. Of course he knew this was going to take a long time to resolve and was in it for the long haul, but he wondered about the other man's mentality. There was almost nothing left of the self-sure character that readily identified in the Colonel as Roy Mustang. It was all cracked and falling apart like some dilapidated building in need of reconstruction. This is what was left for him to work with. It wasn't much, he was pretty sure all the pieces would never be found, and he was more than willing to hold them in place with bare hands if there was any chance that his best friend would return to how he was. "I'm not sure you would have survived her father. I barely did and the man liked me."
"Yes, well, you survived my mother, a person could survive anything after that." He didn't look up, focused on sponging the bowl of the last remnants of stew. He was positively starving, and he'd eaten his food with a careful deliberation that left nothing in the bowl when he finally finished. "And flirting isn't the same as trying to date."
"And that's why you are still single my friend. You go about thinking that the two are completely unrelated." He gave him an amused smile. "Really shouldn't flirt with those that you can't possibly see yourself with in a romantic, or platonic for that matter, relationship. It does neither part any good to get mixed signals. Of course if you prefer to stick with your usual formula of getting dumped or dumping every other week... well I can't very well take away your hobby." Maes had almost moved to his feet when his wife came into view with two more steaming bowls topped with more bread. He studied her face as she placed the bowls on the coffee table and cleared away the empty ones, careful not to touch Roy or venture too close for that matter.
Roy shook his head a little, tucking his feet more carefully under himself as he collected the new bowl, apparently focusing on that almost immediately, still only paying that abstract attention to his surroundings. He didn't really tense up when Gracia was near this time. "I can't really see myself with anyone anyway, so it isn't that much of a problem."
"Hmmm… I'm not sure that is the case. I think you just enjoy skirting around commitment." That was the only reply his friend received from him as he to took to his own bowl of soup. He found it particularly ironic that he was talking about commitment to the famous hound dog of Central. Poor Roy, he could have any girl, or guy for that matter, that he wanted and yet still couldn't find that one special person, or persons, that would make him happy for the rest of their lives. Maes was the lucky one in that respect, he found Gracia. Or rather, was clobbered over the head by the woman.
"I have nothing against commitment." He shook his head a little, a smile flitting over his face. His friend was so oblivious sometimes. So completely oblivious. The people he most trusted were inaccessible, so he'd simply do without. He'd been working on that premise for years.
"Well maybe not but you seem to. That's the point I suppose." Somewhere along the way they'd gotten off the subject of Roy's current problems. Strange how food can effectively distract people from things as serious as murder. Again he watched his wife enter the room silently to provide fresh drinks then slink back out of view. Then again it distraction wasn't exactly what they needed. They needed to resolve whatever issues they could between his wife and best friend so they could all come together and heal Roy. That didn't look like it was going to happen in the near future but if all were willing... they could reach that happy place.
Roy shook his head a little, finishing off the bowl yet again before carefully leaning to put it down, collecting the drink. "It isn't actually, but... that isn't the point either. Everything in my life is about trust. That's all." He shook his head and sipped at his glass. "I'm calm now."
Gracia almost laughed in lost humor. From the kitchen she could hear those two perfectly and it had nothing to do with her great hearing. It was to damn quiet in this place. The walls were too close together for her tastes because they effectively rebounded sound vibrations and scattered them around the entire living area. She bet that she could shut herself in Roy's closet and still be able to hear what those two were talking about. It was all a silly musing of hers since she despised the silence. Only one of three true fears of hers, silence. Food to calm the savage beast. She thought grimly nearly biting her tongue in an effort to atone for calling Roy a savage beast. Cautiously she reentered the living area and skirted the empty chair closest to Roy but farthest from actually being in his personal space. No repeats of the bathroom. She would choose to the passive route this time and let all things happen as they happened. But she didn't want it to take too long. She could see the angry looking bite marks against Roy's neck and had a fairly good idea that it only got worse as one traveled downwards.
"The meal was perfect darling, as always. Have to make that more often." Maes was obviously trying to be cheerful, but she caught the subtle undertones of worry and stress.
Roy finished his drink and sat it exactly where he'd picked it up from the table at, a slow, precise set of movements. He couldn't bring himself to look at her as he sat back on his legs again, going for the least pained position he could manage. His voice was very quiet. "I didn't mean to react like that... I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about. I entered the situation with a firm grip on the consequences of my actions and wouldn't have blamed you for whatever you would have done." A small lie to ease the suffering of both parties was a small concession and one she would gladly indulge. "I am, however, sorry that I didn't take stock of the situation before I ran straight into it. So we're both sorry."
He nodded a little, still not looking up, and he took a breath. "I suppose I should let you look at me at some point, shouldn't I?" He leaned into Maes, unhappy with how chilled he felt just thinking about exposing any of his wounds. But they needed to be rewrapped anyway.
She nodded, "At some point I think that would be best. I won't lie, it will probably be very embarrassing to show me and you will more than likely be very uncomfortable during the entire process... but it needs to be done. Neither of us want you to be in pain nor fall ill because of non-treatment of your injuries. I won't rush you in my haste to help, we'll take it very slow and only proceed when you feel you are ready."
Maes echoed the nod and gave Roy's shoulder a gentle squeeze after he slipped his arm around them again. "And I'll be there the entire time to provide some kind of buffer."
Roy quirked his lips in dry amusement, unable to help looking to Maes with that one. "Sometimes I wonder if you two share a mind... It'll be okay... I just... panicked a little earlier, that's all." He let out a breath. "Best do it in layers really." He was almost babbling in the soft tone of voice.
Gracia did laugh at that, soft and subtle. "If we share a mind, then I believe Maes needs to explain why he's thinking about dress sizes." It was a bit of a frayed path coming from injury and pain to her worries on weight loss/gain. Just seemed to fit, she supposed, but soon she redirected it back to the straight and narrow. "Layers are a good place to start. Just small things first. I would like to see your arms first and perhaps your feet. I noticed you were limping earlier."
He hesitated, then tugged at the robe, pulling it off his shoulders and letting it hide his lower body from the waist on as he didn't unfold. Instead he tugged on his sleeve, pulling the left one up, as the material left plenty of room to do it that way. The nail imprints on palm and wrist were really the brightest red, having been bleeding before. He extended his hand to her after a moment's pause. "I doubt I'll be able to be very graceful for a while yet."
When he offered his hand freely she took that as a sign she was allowed closer and took the opportunity to cross the small patch of area and settle herself on the coffee table. The bowl and glass were quickly moved away before she sat but forgotten just as quickly. Her small hands slowly grasped at Roy's thicker one, one cupping the wrist and palm with the other gently glided over the injuries without really touching them. His hand wasn't warm, nor cold, but slightly less than she'd wanted them to be, they were also a bit pruned and clammy. His bath from earlier could explain away both easily but that didn't mean she had to like the clammy bit. She looked over his face and noted that he had a slight fever by the dilation in his pupils and the small sheen of sweet that lined his scalp and hairline. She was fairly sure that wasn't due to the bath since the pupils were telling her of neglect.
Her bottom hand provided a needed warmth to the wrist to help her gauge the extent of the fever, to see if it had spread this far. She was happy to note that though his hand was a bit damp it wasn't giving off excess heat. A good sign that she'd caught the fever in its early stages. Which also meant that Roy was worse off than she'd hoped. Her eyes quickly averted to the appendage in her hands. Her frown showed her displeasure but her eyes were soft in their analysis. Some topical herbs, a light bandage, and some soothing antibiotic spread cream would be best for these.
Roy watched her for a moment before shaking his hand to drop the other sleeve, and he extended that hand as well, somewhat soothed by the hand Maes had on him. This wrist was worse than the other. The burns started closer to the wrist, so they were actually visible from under the fall of the sleeve. The scratches had actually torn a bit too.
From one to the other she gently placed Roy's first offered hand into his lap, then immediately took up the second. She chewed the inside of her bottom lip as she looked over the extent of these injuries. Most were the same but by far this was the worst of the two. She leaned slightly over the back of his hand then bent slightly to the side to look under it. She was looking for something and found it when she reexamined the wrist area of both sides. This was the hand that was the first to be attacked. There were small track lines against the skin that burrowed beneath the burns indicating that whatever type of restraint that was used this hand was the first. The force it would have taken to imprint the tracks onto the skin alone told her as much but the sheer volume of severity that this one had compared to the other was more of a give away.
Nodding to herself she lowered that hand as well. She moved from the coffee table and disappeared behind them to retrieve her slightly bulky purse. It wasn't the little brown one she normally carried around with her on days out, this one was a dark gray color and at least double the size. Retaking her seat she opened the bag and began to rummage through the contents. In moments three small bottles were lined side by side beside her and her bag on the floor at her feet. "These will help. I won't put them on just yet since we've a lot more ground to cover but just to let you know that I've something for them."
Roy sighed out a breath, then untucked his feet, leaning against Maes as he made it so she could actually have access to the friction burns on his ankles and the explosion burns on his legs. His mind drifted a little. Really, Kimblee was the only other person he'd met who had as much of a fascination for fire as him.
She took great care in letting her hands become accustomed to the temperature of the exposed flesh. She didn't let her warmth overpower his nor vice versa so it was a delicate game of balance. This took a slightly longer time to catalogue and gauge because of just how much of the exposed flesh had been injured. No it didn't travel up the legs but it did travel around the entire ankle and part of the calf. More topical solution, gauze, and there was a good chance he needed some extensive nerve repair where the restraints were on the ankles. The smaller, more localized burns dotting along the upper leg were slightly blistered but there were no puss rises so it told her that the contact with the heated object. Or explosion, as she began to believe they were by the sheer number and shape of them along both legs, wasn't very long and had lost heat after contact.
He'd only showed her from the knees and elbows out, so the array of hand sized bruises that were from about the knees up weren't exposed. He hesitated a little at this point, then tugged a bit at his pajama top. The silence was keeping this from getting harder than it was.
She sat back, placing her hands in her lap while watching Roy's reaction. He hadn't so much as twitched when she was examining his wrists but she felt the slight tension when she moved along his legs. She had a feeling that if she would have strayed any closer to his lower thighs that she'd be nursing either a sore cheek or asking the creator of all things what went wrong. Roy was like that, he either did things in extremes when stressed or went for the quick solution. Either one were not welcome at the moment so she was happy enough to wait everything out.
Maes was being surprisingly quiet during the process. He had been both fascinated and amazed at his wife's abilities beforehand, but he never really got to witness her in action beyond their home. He never was able to stomach the wards in which she had worked before they had their daughter, it reminded him too strongly of the war. But now, watching her work her quiet magic on his best friend did it's level best in entrancing him in the process. But he was still aware enough to accept Roy's weight with comfort and support and a gentle squeeze here and there as those cream color hands worked against the pale olive.
Roy finally let out a breath, tugging the robe up to cover as much as possible, then he transferred his attention to the long nightshirt. He turned his gaze to Maes, more or less asking him to coordinate his efforts since he couldn’t both hang onto the protective robe and get the shirt off at the same time.
"Best get the shirt then." Maes whispered when he caught the look, moving his hands to rest atop the robe puddled in his friend's lap. It would give Roy a sense of security, he supposed, if he kept his wife from trying to get at the robe. But he knew she wouldn't. Gracia would wait until the end of time or until her patient desperately needed the help (ie. dying/passed out) before she would take their security from them. She had the patience of a saint and the will of a god. Handy that she was on their side, really.
"Yeah..." Roy tugged the shirt off, having to lean onto his feet a bit when he tugged it from under himself, then he sat back, tugging it fully off. He wasted no time dragging the robe up against his chest, hiding the red that was all over him. Even a glimpse had been enough to tell that he had more injuries waiting to be looked at. The burns were the worst from the elbows up, accompanied by bruising along his collarbone.
Again she kept her face neutral though her alarm was blaring full gale in her ears. Kimblee was a truly horrible person to have done something like this to another human being and it made her feel worse knowing that she cared deeply for the current victim. She had always been a quiet pacifist during the war, willing to help anyone that came to the hospital rather than be bigoted and turn away someone just because they were on 'the wrong side'. She'd also seen some very horrific things in her time as a nurse. Gunshot wounds, beatings, alchemy accidents, and more than her share of deaths. Staring at the deep purplish green, nearly black, spreading from one side of Roy's torso to the other with scratches, burns, bite marks, and what looked to be a razor or knife track, Gracia Hughes though she might actually be able to take a life if she ever had clear shot at Kimblee.
Roy took a breath and lowered the robe so it was only fully obscuring his lower body, and he pressed closer to Maes. He dearly wanted to cover back up, but the wounds needed to be assessed. So he'd make himself be fine until he could be calm properly. This meant he shut down his reactions in general, silencing the part of his mind that was even feeling the pain at the moment as he waited. He hadn't cared for the design that Kimblee had seemed to be making on him, though that might have been purely his imagination because of the blade.
She rubbed her warm palms against her knees before she leaned forward to press them against the marred chest. It was horrible, the cuts and bruising and the burns alone made her stomach want to revolt. But she suffered silently, not wanting to cause more discomfort. The bruising wasn't as serious as it looked spread across the chest as it was. Mostly superficial and nothing underneath. But the deepest purple ones she paid close attention to. Those were the ones that went straight to the muscle and indicated great force or pressure. She prodded at a few of them to measure the damage then moved onto the burns. More burn cream would be needed and definitely some nerve work. They weren't too bad but bad enough to make her worry.
He barely twitched away from the pressure, fingers curled tightly into the robe in his lap, and he shifted until his back was fully pressed against Maes, eyes closed. The scratches... When she touched those, he leaned away. After all, those were the marks that most had betrayed him. Of course, his entire chest had been oiled at one point, so all the wounds there had to be a bit off.
Gracia glanced up when she felt him shy away from her hands but they didn't linger. They returned to the battlefield of injuries to help direct her hands effectively. This was going to take some time and effort to correct all the damage but she had the basics of what they needed in her bag and she was sure her husband would gladly provide anything else she needed. Though she had a feeling that she would be the one going to get them since Roy didn't trust her as he did Maes.
Roy opened his eyes to look at her, pressing closer to Maes without really trying to get away. More like he was trying to seep the comfort straight out of him without need for the intermediary. "You have to... see the other stuff too, don't you?"
She tried to offer a reassuring smile but she knew it was a bit weak from worry, "Yes. I'll need to tend them all if you are to get better. But I won't make you show me now unless you want to. I'm not going to make this any harder on you than it already is."
Maes sought out his friend's hand and cupped it within his own. "It'll be alright Roy. Everything will be fine. She won't hurt you and I'll be right there. Alright?"
Roy made a small sound that could have ranged anywhere from the start of a chuckle to a cut off sob. "I just want this done... I don't want to draw it out. I really don't." He took a shaky breath and unclenched his hand from the robe, the other moving it aside.
"Shh, it's okay. You're not drawing anything out. Take your time. It's important that you are ready for this as much as I am. If you want to wait we will wait." Gracia assured though she was silently supporting him to just let her. This would be terrible for the both of them but it would be over with in the matter of moments. Just let her examine the problem then they would set about fixing it.
"No waiting." He shook his head, moving the robe fully aside after taking a deep breath, revealing the hand shaped bruises that underscored the burns trailing the inside of his thighs right up under his boxers.
Maes had seen them all before, the bruises, cuts, burns; but it still made his stomach clench painfully along with his chest. He wanted to kill Kimblee but he knew that he would have a hard time tracking someone that supposedly was dead. And even harder to kill an alchemist that specialized in explosions. But he figured that one clear shot and he'd pin the man right between the eyes. It made him see red.
Gracia was having a hard time containing her hurt as the tears prickled at her eyes. She ran a hand over them to stave the water from leaking out though. She wanted to remain passive and professional. But this was her friend, her family that was hurt and it hurt her doubly because of it. She never understood how anyone could be so depraved so inhuman to do something like this. But the world was full of people just like that that had no qualms about leaving pain and devastation in their wake. Poor Roy... one had found him. "They go all the way up then?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah." Roy let out a breath. "The others go all the way down as well... for the most part." Seeing as Kimblee had been too entranced by the scar he bore, he'd left that area alone after discovery.
The nurse nodded then went to tug the robe closed again. She didn't need to see the rest to know what she would find. True she would have to see it to treat it but she had a very good idea what to expect. That left getting the rest of what she needed. More gauze, medical tape, and at least two more bottles of antiseptic. She wanted him numb when she would have to pack his wounds. The less pain the better... and Maes would more than likely have to help. Not something she wanted to share with her husband because she had wanted to spare him seeing his best friend like this. But then again, he'd been with him since yesterday. She was pretty sure he'd seen it all.
Roy accepted the robe immediately, wrapping the material close around him as he shivered. He'd been almost completely still for the examination, but now he was simply freezing. "I'm cold again Maes."
"Can't have that now can we?" The taller man answered with a sad smile. "Gracia… would you mind going to get the covers piled on the bed? You know how Roy is. He can't stand being cold."
She was more than happy for the distraction. It would give her time to compose herself and prepare for what was to come next. She nodded and jumped to her feet. Soon she disappeared down the hall and into Roy's bedroom without a word.
"I don't usually get cold quite so easily." He curled closer to Maes, turning his body a bit so he could tuck his face against him. "Sure, I get cold easy, but not usually this easy. It’s not winter, no reason for it."
Maes pulled the man closer to him and settled back into the cushions. "It's probably because you're over tired and stressed. Losing too much body heat like that maybe? But hey, I'm the portable heater here so be quiet already."
That earned a quiet chuckle, and Roy put his considerable grip to use in plastering himself against his best friend again, heedless of his wounds as he set about getting as close as humanly possible. "How can I forget, you're always warm, even when you think you're cold."
"What can I say? I'm a human icebox unto myself. I have way too much fun sticking my hands and feet on Gracia when we're in bed. She makes the cutest sounds when startled." He chuckled lightly bringing a hand around to rest on Roy's side. "So forgive me if I believe I'm the perfect snow man."
He shook his head, nuzzling in against Maes a bit before the lingering tension seeped away for the moment. It would come back, but he was fine, and Maes was letting him hang all over him. "You've never been an ice-man. If you had, I wouldn't have ever raided your bed."
"Oh you say that now but I remember, distinctly, one summer night when you decided my bed was better. I let you get almost asleep then stuck my hand under your shirt." He was laughing a bit heavier now with the memory. "Never seen you jump so high in my life! Got a good sore back when you dumped me from my own bed but was well worth it."
"You deserved it. I was comfortable, and you up and did that. Besides, you stole my pillow that day anyway, it was only fair I go after it... and unfair for you to use the one occasion you've been cold on me." He huffed, nuzzling closer.
Maes rolled his eyes and seriously considered sticking his chilly hand between the couch and Roy's back for a laugh. Oh well... another day. Instead he gently hugged his friend one armed while his other ruffled the man's hair. "I was merely defending my point. You think I'm warm and I think I'm cold. Perspective is everything I suppose."
"Warmth isn't all physical Maes." He shook his head, shivering a little, and he slid so he was more or less settled in his lap, curled up there as he tried to duck the cold. He was, however, wondering about those blankets. Mental warmth really only helped the physical along so far, and it was downright chilly in there.
She had gotten the covers gathered up in record time as soon as she spotted them on the bed but once she had them in hand she was unable to make herself turn around and go back into the living room. She sank onto the mattress and wish for nothing more than an ease of her headache. The bleach fumes hadn't been good for her to begin with and she spent most of her time in that blamed kitchen. It felt so wrong in there but she stayed to give Roy and her husband space. Then the exam itself was a strain on her resolve. How many times did she want to break down or get angry? It would have felt good to get some of that off her chest but it would scare poor Roy half to death. He'd never seen her really upset before, and that one day had been only a glimpse at her fury.