author's note: This is not copied. The same author wrote this. Don't state my original pen-name in a review, thanks. If that just sounded like a load of nonsense, then good!

Title: A Call
Couple: Royai
Genres: Romance/Angst
Rating: K+

"Open your eyes! Get a hold of yourself, Lieutenant!"

Her eyes refused to open and her body lay horrifyingly still. His hands shook violently, surprised he was still able to hold her. He felt blood slowly trickle down his hands, and he scrunched his eyes closed. No, not like this. Not now. This couldn't happen. It can't happen.

"Lieutenant!" he called again, but she didn't stir.

He couldn't speak anymore. His voice was trapped in his attempt to hold back tears. He looked at her face, hoping, dear God, just hoping she had moved. His heart sunk, and he gritted his teeth as the thought of her being dead began to cross his mind-

Roy jolted upright. He scrunched his eyes closed, and rose his knees, before wiping his clammy hands down his face. The room was still, as was he. All he heard was the sound of his heavy breathing, and his heart pounding against his chest.

His throat was dry, and when he removed his hands from his face, he noticed his body was trembling. This was stupid. Ridiculous.

That dream, or nightmare... or memory, refused to leave him alone. She was safe. He was safe. They were safe. Whatever could put her in danger was gone (or, at least, for now), so he shouldn't worry.

He cared too much though, which made him feel sick.

Roy wrapped his arms around his thin body, and slouched. He began to wonder if she was also trying to get over what had happened. If she was still bothered, or scarred from it.

Hell, she was the one who got injured, so surely the thought would at least pass her mind every now and again. Yet whenever he saw her, she didn't seem to show any sort of grief; never mentioned it. Or was she keeping quiet for his sake? Roy knew Riza relatively well, and had this sinking feeling she wouldn't tell him anything that would make him worry. Why? Why did she have to be like that?

His hand slammed onto the phone beside him. His mind had gone blank, and before he could register was he was doing, he was dialling her number. Roy swallowed hard, and carefully placed the phone to his ear and scrunched his eyes closed. It continued to ring, and ring, and ring... He gritted his teeth. She wasn't answering. She wasn't answering-

"Hello?"

He shot his eyes open, and a lump formed in his throat. Just hearing her voice now made him feel terrible. Roy clenched his free hand, and tried to speak, but nothing came.

Her voice proved she was tired and had been woken up, "Hello...?"

"Riza. . ." his voice was strained, and had just managed to escape his trapped throat.

There was a long pause. He wondered if she had hung up, probably thinking he was drunk. It was very late after all, and it wasn't usual for him to ring up anyway. It wasn't even usual for him to call her by her first name.

Apparently, she hadn't hung up just yet. "Mr Mustang?"

Did she not recognise his voice? He swallowed again, and was relieved his voice broke through, but it certainly didn't come out calm, like it should be. Instead, it was trembling and completely revealed how upset and pained he felt. "Are you okay?"

Despite how damn obvious his voice sounded like he was on the verge of tears, she gently said, "Yes, sir. Why are you ringing me at a time like this?"

"Are you sleeping fine?" He could have smacked himself by how pathetic he sounded.

"I am, sir..." Now her tone sounded questioning, and he bit his lower lip.

Why was he doing this?

He inhaled deeply. He wanted to see her. To touch her. To know she was fine and still alive. He couldn't stand this vulnerable feeling inside him.

"Can I see you?" He had said it. He had to ask.

Roy waited patiently for her to answer. She took a moment, hesitating.

"I'm not drunk or anything," he quickly added, "I just..." he had to stop himself from his voice betraying him even more, "... need to see you."

"Umm..." She didn't reply for a while, "... now, sir?"

He clenched his fist harder. "Yes. Please."

"Okay."

And that was it. He shuddered and weakly said, "Th-Thank you," before placing the phone back down onto the receiver.

He wiped his eyes furiously, and whipped of his quilt before quickly pulling on his clothing. His hands were still shaking, and his head was spinning. He had never felt this... desperate before. Why did he care so much? She was just a woman, for goodness' sake. But he couldn't deny the fact she wasn't just a woman. It was too late to think that now...

... and it was too late for him to turn around and go back to bed.

He hadn't dressed himself in anything exotic: just a t-shirt, trousers and leather jacket. Roy's hands were slowly easing from shaking, and his knees only buckled slightly. He locked the door to his apartment, before proceeding towards his car.

It was chilly that night. He wasn't going to hang around.

The lights posted on the sides of the pavements gave the place a comfortable glow. Roy was one of the few who was still out and about at this time.

He arrived at her place in less than five minutes, and he began to worry again. What would she think of this?

Turning the ignition off, he opened the door, closed it, and then made his way over. He tripped a little over the doorstep and placed his hand on the front door for support.

Roy began to think things through now. His heart was thudding against his chest, but he still had a chance to not do this. He didn't have to. He could turn around, and...

No. He wasn't a coward.

He rang the doorbell. There was a wait, and it tortured him.

The door opened, and there she stood. It was her, certainly. She looked tired, but also curious. She noticed his expression, and a frown formed.

"Is everything okay, sir?"

No. It wasn't. It really wasn't.

He watched her. He couldn't remove his eyes from her. But seeing her now lifted his spirits so much it was unreal. He felt happy. Terribly happy.

And he grabbed her and pulled her towards him. She gasped a little, obviously not expecting this, but he was relieved she didn't push him away. Roy's arms wrapped around her petite frame, and he bowed his head, his lips against her neck. Slowly, her arms also came around him, and he hugged her more firmly, before closing his eyes.

Just like that, all of the pain and worry had vanished. This was perfect. This was what he needed. He needed her.

"What's the matter?" she asked, concern in her voice.

He wasn't answering her yet. He was too content how he was now.

"Sir...?"

"Nothing," he finally replied, his voice no longer trembling. He brought his face so he could see her properly, "Nothing anymore."

They didn't say anything afterwards. She allowed him to gaze at her freely, and, somehow, his lips gently grazed her cheek, before he brought his arms around her again, and moving his lips away.

"I'm sorry for waking you," he whispered.

She didn't reply. He didn't need one. Of course she didn't mind. She never seemed to anyway...