A/N: This is an AU one-shot spurred by a headcanon sent to me by an anonymous person on Tumblr which, ironically, was something I had started drafting for Royai Week. The headcanon was: AU where Riza loses her voice on the Promised Day, and Roy can't get his sight back. (both conditions can be temporary...or not). Communication is difficult, as you could imagine. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations...

Setting: One year after the Promised Day.

When he heard three taps followed by the sound of a palm knocking against a desk, Roy looked up from the papers he was leaned over and growled, "Who said that?"

After a few moments of silence, he heard Havoc snicker before he said, "I don't know what you're talking about, sir. We didn't say anything."

"I don't believe you," Roy said accusingly as he focused his glare in the direction of the Second Lieutenant's desk.

"Honest, sir, we didn't-"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," Roy called affirmatively, cutting Second Lieutenant Breda off, "Could you help me with something for a second?"

As Havoc and Breda groaned in unison, he heard Riza push her chair away from her desk and stand. Hearing the sound of her footsteps approaching him, he sat back and folded his arms across his chest, grinning victoriously. A few moments later, he heard her footsteps stop beside him as a hand found itself on his shoulder, the fingers beginning to drum rhythmically.

"Talking about work ethic. Said it was lacking-"

Raising his index and middle fingers, Roy pointed them toward his eyes before flicking his wrist and directing them toward the desks of the two Second Lieutenants.

"-Also your socks do not match."

With a loud groan, Roy sagged back in his chair and leaned his head against the headrest. "And you decide to tell me now because…?"

"Just noticed," was the short reply that followed before Riza pulled her hand away from his shoulder. He heard her take a step, only to stop a moment later on the other side of his chair, as if she had remembered something else.

Once again her hand went up to his shoulder. "Paperwork. Now."

"Hey, no fair," Havoc whined from across the room. "You guys can't do that!"

"What," Roy countered back, "You mean communicating with another person in such a way that your conversation can only be partially understood?

"You're right. That is unfair."

He heard a loud 'hmmph' coming from Havoc's direction, though it was not followed by anything else. Pleased that he had won the argument, he began to sit back in his chair again when Riza's hand tightened on his shoulder. He frowned as she began to tap out her final message: "I mean it," being sure to pinch his shoulder tighter when forming the word 'mean.'

With a long, drawn out sigh, he muttered, "Alright," as he dipped his head and felt around his desk until the found the pile of papers once more. As he traced his finger back up to the top of the document to find the beginning, he heard a quiet, satisfied 'hah' as she exhaled as she turned and strode away.

Knowing that her back was still turned, he quickly ran his finger down the page until he got to the one part he could read with 100% confidence: Please sign here. Keeping one finger pressed to the area where the 'x' would lie, he felt around for his pen. Furrowing his brow, his arm extended and reached further and further out on his desk. He could have sworn he had placed it just next to-

A light tap on his shoulder pulled him from his concentrated search as his pen was slipped into his hand.

Shit. She was still there.

Feeling a few beads of sweat appear on his brow, he drawled, "Thank you, Lieutenant," and waited for her reply.

Instead of the firm message he expected on the top of his shoulder, he felt her two fingers press against his temple, giving him a playful shove. Then, hearing her walk away for real that time, he bowed his head, pen in hand, and began to work on the document in front of him as a small frown crossed his features.

He didn't blame her for being a little on edge and more attentive today of all days. After all, today marked one week until the one year anniversary of the Promised Day.

The Promised Day… a day that severely damaged the long-standing nation of Amestris, practically causing its foundation to crumble and collapse.

Since that day, the military has worked tirelessly to right the wrongs that were committed that day, rebuilding, reworking, and revamping the system entirely. Although, despite the fact it had only been one year, the nation had advanced considerably; though there was still plenty to do in terms of getting the state back to the grandeur and power it was regarded for years ago.

At that moment, Ishval was the largest concern for the military higher-ups as they worked tirelessly to restore the nation to what it once was. With the help of Roy and his team, Ishvalan citizens were slowly trickling back into the area to rightfully reclaim their land. Most of this work, however, has been primarily from an office… for the time being.

It had been hard convincing the Fuhrer and generals that supported him that Roy and his men were capable and up to the challenge considering their… quirks.

After being offered a Philosopher's Stone to exchange for his sight, Roy asked that his two subordinates, Jean Havoc and Riza Hawkeye, be healed first. When it was used on the former, it had been a rousing success; giving the man his legs back.

Pleased by its success, Dr. Marcoh had directed his sights on Riza when, the moment he activated it, the Stone shattered. He hadn't known what the Stone's limit was, but it seemed that the very last bit of its alchemic power had gone into supplying Jean his mobility. Roy knew that the Second Lieutenant still held that against himself, despite constantly being told that his legs and life were essential to get back on track and to keep moving forward.

Riza took the notion with stride, adamantly telling them over and over again that her voice was not crucial to achieving what they were striving for. Still, he couldn't selfishly help but long to hear her voice again, even if it was reprimanding him. God, how he missed it…

Despite this obstacle, however, the two of them, and subsequently his team, learned to adapt to it. Almost immediately after being told that the surgical process would be too risky, and the area of damage too small for the most precise of alkahestral arts to successfully touch, Riza immediately began learning Amestrian Sign Language in order to communicate with the interpreters they had at Central Command.

The men, not wanting to be excluded from talking to their First Lieutenant, enrolled in night courses, surprising her three months later by walking in one day and signing a simple 'hello' to her. From what they said, she had been so happy and so shocked that she had cried.

She denied it, of course; though she did say that she was incredibly happy to have others to talk to. Whether she had smiled or cried tears of joy, one thing was certain: Roy would never know, despite her telling him what had gone down.

Their way of communicating was unique, a different language by its own accord. Accompanied with varying degrees of contact or brushing of hands and arms, they also had an alphabet they used and followed in order to form complex sentences and thoughts. Something they had developed a long time ago when he was her father's apprentice.

It was something that had just suddenly begun to develop between the two of them. A tap on the table would elicit a tap from the other on another surface in reply. Before long it had proliferated into something that only the two of them understood, becoming a language that could be used to communicate when separated by bedroom walls or doors.

The same language they used today, although the wooden medium they worked with before had mostly transitioned to skin.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Roy jerked his head up. A few moments later it began to type. "Ready to go?"

He blinked once, twice. Had the day truly passed that quickly? Overcoming his initial shock, he smiled lightly and said, "Yes. I'm all ready to go."

When he pushed his chair back, she slipped an arm beneath his and helped him to his feet. Snaking her arm around it, she moved her hand so that it rested on his bicep. This was something that had only just started about a month ago; this closeness she had established between them whenever she assisted him to her car. Not that he was complaining or anything…

Since that day one year ago, it was obvious that their relationship had changed, and not just because of their predicaments and the ways by which they communicated. No… It was the way their contact was prolonged, long after they had finished communicating. It was the tinge of longing in which they clung to each other as they walked the halls of Central Command, ignoring the fact that countless peeping eyes milled around them, whispering to each other about the inseparable pair. And it was the way with which their words, both spoken and unspoken, passed between them; always tender.

When he felt something nudge his free hand, he opened it and accepted the seeing cane that she had passed to him. As she maneuvered him around the desk, he tapped to ground in front of him to assure that he avoided its sharp edges. After he was confident they were away from it, he asked, "Did you grab the Nelson report?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiled. "The files on the seventh district in Ishval."

"Of course," she replied automatically.

Feeling the ground beneath him change from carpeting to tile, he then changed the subject. "So, what are you up to tonight," he asked coolly as she turned him around the corner and headed toward the main door.

"Nothing too exciting," she replied. "Just cooking myself some dinner and maybe turning in early. Today was," she paused for a moment as if searching for the correct word, "Difficult."

He frowned at that last sentence. "'Difficult' how?"

She did not immediately respond, the hand on his bicep tightening slightly as she pushed open the main door and led him through it. As they began to descend the steps, she tapped out, "Just a long day. Nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure," he asked, unconvinced by her words. Although he could sometimes tell by the pressure and speed at which she tapped, it was still not entirely foolproof. Sometimes she was rough when her words were gentle, and vice versa.

"Positive," she answered, the pressure of her words soft and gentle in an attempt to convey a sense of carelessness. "We are here."

Stopping where he stood, he cautiously raised the stick to tap the underbelly of her car. When she made a move to release his arm and open the door, he shook his head and took a step forward and smiled. "I've got it." Moving his hand along it, it took twice as long as if she had done for him. She could have argued, could have thought, but she knew that doing these things gave him a sense of independence.

When he opened it, she took the guiding cane from his hand and helped him into the car. By the time he had fished out his seatbelt from being wedged between the chair and the center console, she had already closed the door and had made her way to the driver's side, sliding in next to him. When he fastened his seatbelt, he looked up at where her face and beamed, "See, told you so."

He heard a quiet gasp escape her, akin to a small laugh. Hearing it caused his stomach to churn and his heart to ache. How he missed that rare laugh…

Still, he kept the smile on his face, hoping that it in turn was causing her to return it.

He heard her put the keys in the ignition and a few moments later the car roared to life. Sitting back in his chair, he felt it shift beneath him and move.

As they picked up speed, he casually turned his unseeing gaze toward the window, peering out as if he were watching the scenery pass them by. It never fazed her, this silence he induced by not talking at every moment during their trips. Actually, they oftentimes found the silence reassuring, hearing their quiet breaths and movements amongst the rattles of the engine and car.

It proved that that moment right there, that second, was real. Hearing these small, relatively insignificant intricacies proved that they were alive…

The short drive seemed to take less time than usual, because he felt that it had taken them just moments to leave Central Command and make it to his apartment. When she pulled up to the curb and shut the engine off, Roy waited until she opened her door before opening his own. As he climbed out and steadied himself, taking care not to kick the raised edge of the street, Riza was already there to take hold of him and give him his guiding stick back. Flashing her a quick smile, he stepped up onto the sidewalk and, with her gentle guidance, walked up the steps to his home.

Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the key to his front door and grabbed the door handle, slowly inserting the key into the lock and rotating it, opening the door. Turning his head to send her another smile, he said, per usual, "Thank you, Lieutenant. I really appreciate it."

Her hand went up to his shoulder. "I am happy to help, sir."

"And I'm happy you're here to help," he emphasized.

He heard her sigh through her nose before she replied, "Thank you. Good night… sir."

"Good night, Lieutenant."

He felt her hand slip away from his shoulder and heard her turn, making her way down the steps. When he was sure she had reached the bottom, he stepped into his house and closed the door. Immediately pressing a hand to the wall, he guided himself to his telephone as he heard the engine of her car roar to life.

Picking up the receiver, he felt the buttons until he was confident he had them down. Pushing in the number he had forced himself to memorize, he held it up to his ear as it rang.

Did she honestly expect him to just leave her all alone on a night like tonight?

Gripping the bag of fresh, steaming food he had picked up minutes before, Roy leaned the guiding stick against the wall and raised his free hand and balled it into a fist as he rapped three times on Riza's door, paused, then knocked twice more. As he lowered it, he heard a sharp yip from Hayate to alert his owner of an unknown presence. Although… he knew she'd had probably figured it out already.

When the door opened, Roy held up the bag of food and smiled as Hayate bound out the door and began circling him, his nose brushing against Roy's clothes as he turned.

Moments later the bag was taken from his hand while Riza's other hand gripped his wrist, guiding him inside her apartment. He waited patiently as she disappeared for a moment to set the food down on her table before she reappeared. Taking hold of his wrist again, she began to drum on the back of his hand. "How did you get here?"

"I drove," he replied teasingly, resulting in a tight squeeze. Chuckling, he shook his head and said, "No, I called a cab and had them bring me here… But not before stopping first."

"How did you know I hadn't eaten yet?"

With a snort, he replied, "I know you, Lieutenant. Even if you're starving, you like to unwind a bit after you get home. I figured that if I left right after you dropped me off, I'd catch you before you started dinner."

Her hand did not immediately rise up to begin conveying her next message, instead staying on the back of his hand. After a few moments, she said, "I am surprised you are here."

Feeling his face soften, he looked toward her and said, "I wasn't just going to let you sit here alone on a night like tonight."

"Sir?"

"You know what I mean," he said as he shook his head. "You might think you're fooling me, but you're not, Riza."

Just as she raised her fingers to tap a response back, she rested her fingertips on the back of his hand the moment he said her name. When she sighed, he could almost picture her in his head, standing in front of him with her night clothes on, her hair down and cascading over her shoulders with her eyes closed in defeat. She knew there was no way out of his one. Feeling her grip on his wrist tighten, he willingly followed as she slowly guided him through her apartment and into her living room. Reaching out when she stopped, he felt for the back of the couch and, when he found it, sunk down onto it.

A moment later she followed suit, sinking down on the cushion next to him.

"So," he continued, "Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

It took a few moments, but at last the hand that was sitting on his lap was lifted away and held between hers. "It will be one year next week..."

Feeling his stomach churn once again, the images of that day flashed through his mind once again. He saw here there, lying on the cold, stone floor in a pool of crimson blood, the life draining from her every second that passed. Saw her looking up at him with those big brown eyes when she had been saved by that little girl, her thankfulness reflecting in them. And then he saw that thing… The last image he would ever see, grinning manically back at him as it took his sight, plunging him into an eternal darkness.

At least, he supposed as she began to drum on the back of his hand, he still had one light left…

"I keep thinking back to that day."

Swallowing the lump he hadn't realized formed in his throat, Roy quietly admitted, "Me too."

"I thought I had lost you…" she slowly tapped out. "All I can think about is the moment you vanished. How scared I was…"

"But you didn't lose me," he assured her. "I'm here now. And if anything," he murmured as he lifted his free hand and slowly, cautiously moved it toward her face, "I should be thinking about how I almost lost you." Moving his hand just a little further, he was disappointed when he had missed his mark, or, he realized as his stomach sank, she had moved her head out of the way. But just as he was about to withdraw it, the hand on the back of his left and wrapped itself around the hand that was in the air.

"I've been thinking a lot about that day too, and I just can't get the images of you out of my head, Riza. The last thing I saw was you covered in your own blood, watching me as I was sent through that godforsaken portal. And sometimes," he muttered, "I wake up believing that I really did lose you."

The thumb of the hand that was wrapped around the one in his lap began to drum again. "Like you said, I am here too."

"I know," he muttered as his stomach began to twist in knots. He felt her raise her thumb to respond, but then she slowly lowered it to the back of his hand once more. Before she could formulate a response, he murmured, "I just… I just want to see you again, Riza."

When he uttered her name again, he heard her exhale slowly as he continued. Whether it was in disbelief, disgust, love, hate, indifference; it did not matter. All he knew was that this feeling he had… This longing was being realized.

He missed her. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't miss her smile, her voice, her laugh; constantly thinking to himself about what look she wore when one of the men made a joke, what she was wearing when she picked him up to grocery shop on weekends… What her expression was when she looked at him.

He missed her…

Drawing the hand he had raised before away from her grip, he repositioned it again and found her cheek, and suddenly the darkness seemed to grow a little bit brighter. A beat later, however, he realized how incredibly inappropriate the gesture was. Because regardless of how he felt, they were superior officer and subordinate. And besides, maybe he had been reading her signals wrong. Maybe—

Suddenly, he felt her hand rise up and press against his, inviting it to stay before he had fully contemplated removing it.

Taking the invitation, he moved his other hand away from hers, reached up and placed it against her other cheek, feeling her soft, flawless skin warm against his palm. After taking a moment to try and calm the rapid beating of his heart, he managed to murmur, "You're as beautiful as the day I last saw you..."

He heard her breath as it caught in her chest, a sound that seemed to be a cross between a laugh and gasp escaping her.

He chuckled lightly as he muttered, "I've clung to an image of you in my mind, fighting harder to keep it as untarnished as possible, but even then, that day still continues to move in and cloud that image with shades of red." Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly before continuing, "Just doing this, feeling the warmth of your skin and your hair as it frames your face… It's already helping to chase those tainted images away." Opening his eyes again, he gazed into the darkness and muttered, "Thank you… for allowing me to see you again."

When he slowly lowered his hands, he noticed that the hand she had held against his was only removed reluctantly, keeping him there longer than he had intended it to be. As soon as they left her face and made it back to his lap, he already felt that tightness beginning to form as the images once again began to nudge their way back into his mind.

That's when he truly realized that this was more than him just missing seeing her. No. It was more than that. The thought he had tried fruitlessly to push away every time it crossed his mind. The words that reached his lips but were never uttered. For one year he struggled with keeping those thoughts and words at bay, but now with the anniversary of the day when he nearly lost her was just looming, he suddenly felt them surge forward again.

Feeling her shift and move as if she were going to get up, he quickly raised one of his hands and gasped, "Wait! I have something else to say."

She paused for a moment before settling back into her spot.

Before she could place a hand on his shoulder or take her hand between his, he used the hand he had raised to point at himself. Then, moving it away from him, he balled his hands into fists and crossed his arms over his chest as his memories assisted his motions. After that, he lowered one of his arms, while with the other he extended his hand so that his palm was facing upward.* It was one many things he had asked one of the interpreters at Central Command to teach him, keeping it locked away in his mind until the right moment.

He heard her take a sharp breath inward, but immediately following it he felt nothing. No movement, no shifting, no hand on his shoulder.

Feeling his heart drop into his stomach, he internally chastised himself for allowing his emotions to get the better of him. He should have let it be. Displaying this feeling, this spark, between them had been a taboo, something they had shared in other ways nonverbally before; and he had just broken it.

Just as he was about to open his mouth, lie and say that one of the men taught him that it meant something else, he felt her take his hand in hers and move it, placing it just over her heart. Slowly moving her other hand up, she placed it on his cheek. Using her forefinger on the hand over her heart, she tapped out, "I thought you would never say that."

While he batted the words back and forth in his mind, trying fruitlessly to decide what tone she meant to sue with them, she moved his hand away from her heart and leaned forward until her forehead touched his. Exhaling softly, she tapped the finger of the hand on his cheek to emphasize the meaning behind her words as she lightly pressed her lips against his.

"I love you too."

A/N: Thank you Wonderful Anon for igniting the spark that is this one-shot! This fic is dedicated to you! I hope that it was what you would expect! I really do love this AU idea; if I didn't have four stories going on, I'd consider doing a series of one-shots on this.

*Roy signed "I love you" in American Sign Language, wittily renamed to "Amestrian Sign Language" in this fic.