[ roy knows, now, what hughes needed to tell him. and he constantly reflects on what this conversation would have been, and how things would have been different, if roy had made it in time. what pain would have been avoided, what losses would have been avoided, what bullets would have been dodged . . .
they're nearly out of this magical hotspot, roy can feel it. and hughes still feels solid. the grip on his shoulder is strong, and the closer they get, the more roy seems to realize that this, like edward had told him, might be another example of time playing tricks.
he needs riza. ]
Don't talk so much, you're making it worse. [ curtly, as he continues to pull hughes along. so close. ] I know what's going to happen to Amestris, I was told, I know. I'm going to stop them. King Bradley's head is going to be on a pike in my front yard when I eventually retire and reduce myself to domestic hell.
[ it's easier to be snippy than to show the fear, and as roy takes one more step, suddenly, his feet hit grass -- and they are out of amestris, and in wherever the hell shehui threw them. trees, overgrowth, water, and roy exhales abruptly before moving to set hughes to rest against a tree, making sure hughes' hand is pressed against the wound before he immediately rips open the bag that he's been carrying since the eviction, to dig through it, for medical supplies. supplies he's used too frequently, since arriving on this damn world.
christ, how long did it take for hughes to bleed out? not long, not long, not long, hurry, roy -- ]
I am not going to let anyone ruin our country. [ it's said quietly, as he shifts to undo hughes' jacket and shirt as quickly as he can, to get at the wound itself. ] And I'm not going to let you die. [ roy presses a folded padded up bandage against hughes' chest. ] Hold this against it and stop writing your own damn obituary while I figure out what to do. Let me think for two seconds.
[ roy is clever, he's a genius, he can come up with a solution to this while stranded in the middle of some shithole forest. think, think, think. it's a clean wound, through and through. much like lust's had been, with roy -- cauterizing the wounds had saved his life, but it had hurt . . . better to be in pain than dead.
except he doesn't have his gloves. just the magical ones he had looted from the prison.
shit. ]
Do you trust me?
[ he has to ask, as he's digging through the bag again. painkillers, there are painkillers in here somewhere, he had bought them in shehui. ]
no subject
they're nearly out of this magical hotspot, roy can feel it. and hughes still feels solid. the grip on his shoulder is strong, and the closer they get, the more roy seems to realize that this, like edward had told him, might be another example of time playing tricks.
he needs riza. ]
Don't talk so much, you're making it worse. [ curtly, as he continues to pull hughes along. so close. ] I know what's going to happen to Amestris, I was told, I know. I'm going to stop them. King Bradley's head is going to be on a pike in my front yard when I eventually retire and reduce myself to domestic hell.
[ it's easier to be snippy than to show the fear, and as roy takes one more step, suddenly, his feet hit grass -- and they are out of amestris, and in wherever the hell shehui threw them. trees, overgrowth, water, and roy exhales abruptly before moving to set hughes to rest against a tree, making sure hughes' hand is pressed against the wound before he immediately rips open the bag that he's been carrying since the eviction, to dig through it, for medical supplies. supplies he's used too frequently, since arriving on this damn world.
christ, how long did it take for hughes to bleed out? not long, not long, not long, hurry, roy -- ]
I am not going to let anyone ruin our country. [ it's said quietly, as he shifts to undo hughes' jacket and shirt as quickly as he can, to get at the wound itself. ] And I'm not going to let you die. [ roy presses a folded padded up bandage against hughes' chest. ] Hold this against it and stop writing your own damn obituary while I figure out what to do. Let me think for two seconds.
[ roy is clever, he's a genius, he can come up with a solution to this while stranded in the middle of some shithole forest. think, think, think. it's a clean wound, through and through. much like lust's had been, with roy -- cauterizing the wounds had saved his life, but it had hurt . . . better to be in pain than dead.
except he doesn't have his gloves. just the magical ones he had looted from the prison.
shit. ]
Do you trust me?
[ he has to ask, as he's digging through the bag again. painkillers, there are painkillers in here somewhere, he had bought them in shehui. ]