Chapter Text
Roy knows that something is wrong the second he steps into the office.
It’s not just the silence, though that’s part of it. It’s not the strange stillness, either, or the way that the air feels heavy. No, it’s the way the entire team looks up at him the second he shuts the door behind him, eyes wide and faces tense as if they’ve been waiting for him to come fix something they don’t know how to handle.
Not unusual, but then he sees Riza; sitting in her desk chair, slumped forward over the desktop… Resting, her head in her arms, the sunlight pouring in through the office windows bathing her in warmth. Almost like a cat curled up on its owner’s front lawn, the only difference being that she has Roy’s black overcoat draped over her shoulders like a blanket.
He'd left it on the back of his chair last night. She must've taken it when she got here.
The napping would be fine, if it were Havoc or Breda or even Rebecca Catalina, all infamous slackers. Only, it’s not any of them. It’s Riza. Riza Hawkeye, who has a strict eleven to five sleep schedule- who doesn’t ever slack off, let alone full on nap at work. She’s never once allowed herself to doze off in uniform. It’s so foreign a sight that Roy’s throat tightens with unease.
“What's going on here?” He demands as he strides across the room.
“I- I don’t know, she just-” Fuery, clearly slightly panicked, shakes his head and glances between Roy and Riza. The poor kid looks like he wants a black hole to form beneath him and swallow him up- anything to get him out of this situation. “She was fine one minute, and then she laid her head down on the desk and got all red, and her scent got… Very strong, and very sweet. I always thought she was a beta, but I think she might…”
Roy stops short, just a few feet from Riza’s desk, blinking.
“What do you think, Colonel Mustang?” Falman, who is anxiously pacing around the room, says while wringing his hands behind his back. “You’ve always had the best nose out of everyone on the team.”
Roy pauses. He hadn’t realized, but he’s pretty much been holding his breath since he walked in. He frowns, heart pounding, and steps closer to her. Then, he hovers over her shoulder and inhales.
The scent hits him like a punch to the gut, thick and cloying, like warm vanilla bean and spun sugar soaked in heat. He jerks back instinctively, smacking a hand over his mouth to keep from drooling. His heart pounds loud in his ears as he clenches his other hand at his side and forces himself to relax.
Riza has always smelled nice, like pure, subtle vanilla with a sweet undertone. He had always thought she might be an omega when they were young, but the years passed and she never had a heat, with most omegas having their first heats between their thirteenth and seventeenth birthdays. She’s well into her twenties now, so she- along with Roy and probably everyone else- had assumed she was just a beta with an oddly sweet scent, like Havoc.
The oddly sweet scent has shifted into something else, now, though; an omega who’s about to go into heat. It’s everywhere, sinking into the walls of the office, into him, only getting stronger with each second that passes. It’s a matter of time before it infects the entirety of Eastern Command.
Roy looks at Riza again, really looks. Her cheeks are dusted pink with heat. Loose strands of golden hair have fallen loose from her usually pristine updo and are now clinging to her forehead, which is damp with a thin sheen of sweat. Her brow is faintly furrowed, but her breathing stays even. She looks soft… Peaceful… Beautiful as always.
Roy’s chest tightens just like it does every other time he looks at her, and he hates himself for it. In a matter of hours, she’s going to go through one of the most painful experiences of her life, and he’s over here admiring her beauty and drowning in her scent like an idiot.
“She’s in preheat,” He mutters, placing a protective hand on Riza’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to admit how obvious it is now, in hindsight. The signs were all there; appetite changes, mood swings, nesting, roaming. For the last week, she’s been tearing through her lunches like a soldier in a trench, scrubbing and reorganizing the office from top to bottom, snapping at Havoc and Breda for their slacking even more than usual, pacing the halls whenever she has spare time... All so unlike her. He should’ve known- god, how had he missed it? And now all he wants is to take her home and have her, but he just can’t. So, he tries to rely on the team. “What do we do with this?”
“Don’t think she’s mated,” Havoc sighs, tapping his cigarette against an ashtray sat at the corner of his desk. He and Breda are both betas and seem relatively unbothered by Riza’s scent- meanwhile, poor omega Fuery is hiding by the doorway with a cloth over his nose like he's on the verge of vomiting. Roy is doing everything in his power to keep from getting aroused, and Falman- despite being married and marked by his wife- is visibly struggling to ignore it. “No alpha to call for her, then. Chief?”
Roy blinks and gets the wrong idea at first, thinking that the implication is that he should step up as Riza’s mate. Her alpha. But then he realizes that Havoc is simply asking for a command; an idea of what the fuck to do about this.
“Why are you asking me like I have any idea what to do? Hell if I know,” Roy responds, forcing himself to keep still when all he wants to do is wake Riza up and bury his face in her neck to inhale that lovely scent of vanilla and sugar.
“Well, one of us has to do something while she's still in preheat,” Havoc, seemingly frustrated, burns his cigarette out and stands from his desk to walk over to Roy. His otherwise thick scent of apples and cinnamon is entirely drowned out by Riza’s pheromones to the point that Roy can’t even detect it. “It’ll be chaos if she goes into full on heat on base- there’s alphas everywhere and she won’t be in any state to tell them no. You’ve known her since you guys were kids, right? Can’t you call her parents to pick her up or something? I bet they wouldn't mind making the trip if you explained the, uh… Situation.”
At that, Roy swallows and grimly shakes his head. The only living relative Riza has is Lieutenant General Grumman, who Roy knows she wouldn’t want to find out about this- and Havoc is right, that so much of Eastern Command consists of alphas that might try to take advantage of what's happening here. Riza can protect herself, sure, but…
Roy breathes out slowly, trying to formulate a plan, though it’s fruitless. He’s hyper aware of the way her scent clings to his clothes now, crawling under his skin. He’s even more aware of the fact that his jacket over her shoulders is lightly coating her scent with his own. It’s almost like they’re mates. Almost. And God, it hurts, because he’s always wanted her and this is just making it so much worse.
“I say let Fuery handle it, have him take her somewhere,” Breda throws out, probably wanting to avoid the task since he’s busy sitting at his desk chowing down on a club sandwich. When the rest of the team stares at him quizzically, Breda just shrugs between bites of his sandwich. “What? He’s an omega. She won’t want anything to do with him when she wakes up and he sure as hell doesn't want to do anything with her either. They can suffer together and she won’t get taken advantage of. Safe option.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. For starters, I’m not strong enough to carry her to the hospital- which she most definitely needs to go to since this is her first heat and it’s coming on so late- and waking her up seems risky,” Fuery says, and he has a point. Waking her up when she’s so clearly close to teetering over the edge into heat isn’t a good idea, and there’s a good chance that she’ll have a bad reaction to waking up surrounded by the smell of Fuery- strawberries and cream, omega through and through. She either needs a trustworthy alpha whose scent will soothe her or a beta who won’t affect her either way. Fuery, seemingly on the same wavelength, looks towards Falman, the only other alpha in the group aside from Roy. “Maybe Falman would be more up to the task?”
“It’s already going to be hard enough to talk my wife down when I come home smelling like this. Having some other omega in tow will make her skin me alive,” Falman sighs. “Breda?”
“You think I want to be at the end of Hawkeye’s pistol when she wakes up and realizes that we all know? She'll be humiliated, as prideful as she is,” Breda says, which… Yeah. Riza isn’t going to be happy if she learns that she went into preheat surrounded by the entire team. The only one she’d willingly share information like that with would be Roy, and even that’s a long shot. But they can’t not do anything either. “Fuck that shit. I’d like to keep all of my limbs intact and bullet-hole-free, thank you very much.”
“You have a fair point… She’s going to be mortified when she finds out we all knew,” Falman mumbles, fear written all over his face. “And when she gets mortified… She gets angry.”
“She won’t find out, then,” Roy cuts in, more of a command than a suggestion. “Not from any of you… I’ll make up a cover story, say I found her alone and got her to the hospital before anyone noticed anything unusual. None of you are to ever breathe a word of this, or I swear to god, I will turn you to charcoal. Understood?”
A collective murmur of ‘yes, sir’ echoes back at him.
So, he steps towards where Riza is sleeping at her desk. His arms slide beneath her with ease, and he gently lifts her into him, surprised when she doesn’t wake up. She’s heavier now than she was during the war, solid with lean muscle, but she still fits against him like she belongs there, head against his shoulder, breath warm against his neck. He has to grit his teeth to keep from scenting her on instinct.
The scent is stronger up close, all sugar and heat and Riza. It’s so not fair.
Thankfully, the halls are empty and he makes it without detection- the last thing he wants is to explain this to their superiors or get caught by an unruly alpha. When he makes it to the military hospital connected to Eastern Command, the nurse behind the counter jumps to her feet and brings a stretcher.
“She’s presenting,” He whispers as he lies Riza’s sleeping body down on the stretcher, having to ignore the way his heart shatters when he hears her let out a whine at the loss of contact. “It came on suddenly, and I think this is her first heat unless she's been hiding her status. One of our omega team members had suggested bringing her in like it was proper protocol, so…"
He adjusts his coat around Riza’s frame, frowns at the way she snuggles into it in her sleep, and watches as the nurse wheels her away into an exam room.
The fact that Riza doesn’t wake up through any of it can’t be a good sign. Or maybe that’s just preheat. Roy has no idea.
He stays in the waiting room, jaw clenched, fists tight, and mind spinning- because he should’ve noticed, because now she’s vulnerable, because he failed to protect her again, because he wants to stay with her- and he knows that’s dangerous, for both of them. Yet… He can’t help but want it. And he can’t help but wonder what it would be like, to be with her. It’s a dangerous fantasy that’s plagued his mind for almost as long as he can remember. One day, they were childhood friends- the next, Riza was the love of his life, more alluring than any of the many omegas that have shown interest in him over the years.
Only, she is an omega after all. Another way in which they fit perfectly together even though their lives have done nothing but keep them apart. Roy wonders, if he did stay with her, would she say yes to him? Most likely. But would it be because of omega instinct or because she had wanted to before?
Suddenly, he doesn’t want to know the answer. It’s not like he’ll find out, anyway. There’s a good chance that the hospital will keep Riza for the entirety of it. Things are probably better that way.
A couple of hours pass. Roy uses the hospital phone to call Grumman and simply tells him that Riza is sick and that he’ll likely be caring for her the rest of the work day if not longer. Grumman agrees to give him the time as long as he ensures the health of his ‘precious granddaughter’. Roy rolls his eyes at that before calling Havoc’s line and demanding that the man scrub the office clean of any traces of Riza’s preheat scent, and then again swears the team to absolute secrecy.
Then he waits.
And waits…
And waits.
During that time, he convinces himself that this is some sort of fluke. There’s no way that Riza Hawkeye is actually… An omega. She’s too prideful. Too neutral. She doesn’t fit the typical omega stereotypes; submissive and obedient and sweet. She follows orders, but they both know she’s the one she’s in charge- and maybe she’s sweet, but it’s in a very subtle way, not at all like Kain Fuery who practically drips sugar with every word or action.
No, Riza isn’t an omega. She’s probably just sick, and it’s messing with her scent, and Roy’s nose is wrong. It has to be that. He hopes it’s that.
It’s hard enough to resist her as it is. He’s loved her for years. Her designation doesn’t make him love her any more or any less, but he’s so close to losing it. If they’re near each other for too long… God.
Eventually, a doctor comes out and tells him that he can come into Riza’s room. When he gets there, Riza is asleep in a hospital bed. She doesn’t have an IV in and she isn’t connected to monitors or changed into a hospital gown- just stripped of her uniform jacket- which he thinks is a good sign as he sits in a chair by Riza’s bedside. There’s a bandage around her arm, probably from having blood drawn for testing.
In her sleep, she reaches out- and against his better judgment, he takes his gloves off and shoves them into the pocket of his uniform pants so he can hold her hand within two of his own.
“So?” Roy says, turning to the woman, who is standing in the doorway with her white coat.
“So, your…” The doctor, clearly trying to put together the nature of their relationship, stares between Roy and Riza and then trails off, waiting for Roy to finish her sentence.
“Lieutenant. I'm her commanding officer,” He finishes.
“Your lieutenant seems to be having her first heat,” She says, vaguely gesturing to Riza, who curls to the very edge of the bed and clings to Roy while putting her face in his shoulder in her sleep.
He would love it, if it weren’t for the circumstances. Though part of him that he hates still does.
“There’s no way that should be happening now-“ He argues.
“Late presentations can happen in some cases. We tested to rule out any hormonal issues and suspect that it was a result of long term malnourishment, based on her medical records. Heats take a lot of calories, so if the body is underfed, it simply won't go into heat.”
That makes the pieces click together. During his time at the Hawkeyes’ estate, Roy noticed that they were not doing very well financially. Whatever food they did have was hunted by Riza in the nearby forest or traded for at the market in town, but for the most part, it was measly scraps, most of which went to her father. Roy tried his damnedest with the allowance he was given by Madame Christmas to make up for it, but Berthold Hawkeye was always too prideful to accept what he would call 'needless charity'.
So, for the longest time, Riza starved- and during the war, it wasn’t much better with her guilt eating her alive from the inside out. It’s only recently that Roy has seen her actually eat like a person, since she started working for him at Eastern Command.
“And you think this is all because of her not eating enough? Not any other problem?”
“Yes, sir. Her weight is up quite a bit since her last hospitalization and her blood work is excellent, so I’ve come to the conclusion that now that she’s eating well… Her body is working the way it’s supposed to and making up for the lost time. Of course, after the heat is over, we'll have her come back and do some more testing just to rule out any other issues since it's such an unusual case, but for now, there's no pressing issues and the best thing we can do is give her the privacy she needs to ride it out."
“Alright, then. So, she’s… An omega, and she’s presenting late because she didn’t eat enough when she was younger. And everything’s actually okay?”
“She’s just fine. Here’s a pamphlet on basic omega care,” A pamphlet is shoved into his hands, along with his overcoat and Riza’s stripped uniform jacket. “Now, you’ll both need to take some time off over the next few days-“
“I've already taken off enough time to care for her here, but why do I need a pamphlet for that? Won't… Won't the nurses be here assisting?"
“No, she doesn't need to be hospitalized, Colonel Mustang- and you’re her emergency contact, so you'll be the one taking her home,” Of course he is. She’s his emergency contact, too. They have spare keys to each other’s homes. They know each other’s blood types, allergies, medications… God damn it. “She doesn’t have anyone else listed, and she’s been asking for you the entire time during her spurts of consciousness.”
“She really can’t stay here until her heat’s over? I’ll stay with her most of the time in her hospital room if she's been asking for me, of course, but I don’t feel qualified, and as an alpha, it’s just inappropriate-“
“If that's what you're worried about, I could prescribe you some suppressants?”
“I’m allergic,” He says, and it’s true. It’s a massive inconvenience, because it means he has to take off work for every rut he has, but it’s a fact of life that he used to not mind… Until now. He vaguely gestures to Riza with his hand. “Can’t you give them to her? She’s only allergic to penicillin, as far as I know. The suppressants should be fine, and with her here, you could monitor for a reaction.”
“Absolutely not!” The doctor refuses as if the idea is preposterous. “Omegas should have steady, regular heats for at least a year before even considering suppressants.”
“Then you should just keep her here-“
“I asked while she was awake and she said she trusts you to take her home and care for her during her heat,” So she really was awake for a little bit. That’s a good sign, at least. “And quite frankly, sir, you know as well as I do that this is the busiest time of year for us. During the spring, we have omegas in heat and alphas in rut and all sorts of other issues left and right. We don’t have the time, the staff, nor the beds to keep an omega who’s perfectly healthy aside from a first heat.”
“Fine, I’ll take her home,” He grumbles. Riza stirs and sits up, groggy and confused in the bed, but Roy is there in an instant- pulling her close, helping her stand with an arm wrapped around her body tight. She leans her weight against his chest. Roy hates that that makes him feel good when she’s clearly so miserable. "Thank you for your time."
He storms out of the room then, Riza still clinging to him, and lets out a shaky breath.
He was tempted to tell the doctor, that if anything happened, it would be her fault for making such a bad call. Deep down, though, Roy knows the truth.
Whatever happens from here on out, it's all on him.
Riza is dead asleep again by the time that Roy gets her settled in the passenger's seat of his car. It's unusual driving, given that Riza tends to drive him everywhere and every one of his senses is overpowered by his stupid, instinctual brain telling him stupid, instinctual things like 'your omega's in heat, go home and make a den, get her to nest in it, feed her good food, knot her until she feels better, and make her yours, yours, yours'.
God, he's so fucked.
Thankfully, though, he's somehow able to ignore said stupid, instinctual things well enough to drive to his house. It's the most logical place to go, he tells himself. The move from his old East City apartment to his suburban house was recent and advised by Riza herself- better security, she'd said, which is true. She'd even helped him seal the house when he'd moved in to keep the smell of his ruts from leaking out, though that usually doesn't cause problems for alphas like it does for omegas. No, omegas like Riza are the ones who typically have to worry about secure sealing- and in an apartment building, it's pretty much impossible. After this is all over, he's going to have to talk to her about moving- maybe moving in with him?
God, no, what is he even thinking? Taking her to his apartment may be logical in his mind, but it's also wrong to tear her away from the one space where she'd be comfortable. Then again, without the sealing, she's at risk for random, rutting alphas who live in her complex smelling her in heat and trying to get their filthy hands on her, or trying to fight with Roy like he's competition- like they're animals. His house really is the only good option since the hospital was essentially useless.
Still. He's not thinking clearly and he knows it. The decision, while sound enough, would feel much more correct if he were in his right mind.
When Riza stirs, he rushes to yank his uniform jacket off- seatbelt be damned- and throw it over his own lap to hide the very obvious, very painful tent in the front of his pants.
“Sir?”
“Lieutenant,” He plasters on what he hopes is a reassuring smile, though he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly now that he fears he might crush it within his hands. He's too busy paying attention to the road to stare at Riza, so he doesn't. Even without looking, he can smell the panic coming off of her. "You're awake again."
“What’s… Happening?” She asks, clawing at the seatbelt- at her clothes.
That's when Roy realizes that she still has no idea what's happening. And that he's the one who's going to have to explain it to her. He's certain that the doctor had explained it to some degree at the hospital based on what she had told him, but in the state that Riza's in, it's unlikely she remembers any of what happened there. She does at least look a little more aware now when he spares her a glance; eyes wide, body settling into the seat when she realizes that she's with him- safe.
“Hey,” They hit a stop, so Roy takes the time to place a gentle hand on Riza's shoulder. He doesn't miss the way that she shivers beneath his touch “Are you alright?”
“No, I feel…” She shakes her head. Roy starts to drive again, and in a motion that nearly makes him crash the car, she chucks his jacket and all of her top layers onto the floorboard of his car until she's in nothing but a plain white bra and her uniform pants. Her hands tremble as they fix her hair, tying the loose, sweaty strands up neatly again to cool herself down. The sweat is still persistently shining on her skin underneath the late morning sunlight, and Roy again has to swallow to keep from drooling as his dumb fuck brain tells him that he should lick it off of her. “Hot, and weirdly…”
“Aroused?” He asks, awkward. She freezes and shrinks into herself, as if she didn't expect him to know, and looks out the window to avoid his gaze. “You’re going into heat, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment slips before Roy can stop it. He almost hopes that she'll correct him- that would at least show some semblance of normalcy in the midst of this shit show- but she acts as if it's normal and responds to what he's just told her without even addressing it.
“What? But I’m not an-”
“I know what you're thinking," He interjects, hoping to prevent the spiral that's sure to come. Frankly, if he were in her situation, he'd be pissed. Furious. And most of all, distraught. Being a beta is easily the most desired designation, and said designation was the only way that life has ever been kind to her… Or so they thought. Now, she's going to be stuck dealing with cyclical heats and inconvenient omega urges that he knows she's going to despise. "I’ll explain. Are you listening?”
“Yes, sir," Riza nods.
“I found you sleeping in the office after I came back from my lunch break. You smelled like preheat, so I took you to the hospital. The doctor that examined you said that you’re an omega. You just presented late, and you’re perfectly healthy, but you need to take the week off to go through the heat naturally. Suppressants aren’t recommended until at least a year after you present,” Roy explains. He'll probably have to explain it to her again later, maybe even multiple times, with how disoriented omegas are known to get during their first heats. “They took some blood for the testing, and heats are known to sap your energy, so you’re going to feel a little faint. After the heat is over, we're going to take you back to the hospital for more testing just to make sure that there's nothing else we're missing, but again, the doctor said you're healthy. Everything is going to be alright."
Riza nods again. Seemingly without thinking, she unbuckles her seatbelt and drapes her body over the middle console until- oh, fuck. Her head is in his lap, and her nose is buried in his thigh through his jacket and pants, and she's scenting him. Roy's cock throbs painfully in his pants, knot already threatening to swell, and she rubs her cheek against it without meaning to. The worst part is the shuddering sigh of relief she lets out at the scent of him. If he weren't driving, he might've broken by now and thrown her in the backseat, taken her there out of pure desperation before dragging her home and doing it ten times over. It's a miracle that he hasn't touched her in any inappropriate way, really.
“This… Is so embarrassing,” She pants, but doesn't move away. It is perhaps dangerous for her to be draped over him like this instead of sitting up straight and wearing her seatbelt. They're close enough to the house that he doesn't bother correcting her, though. Yes, that's it. It's totally not the fact that her head on her lap is soothing him, too. “And painful. God, what am I going to do…?”
“I’ll take care of you when we get to my place," Roy murmurs. He's careful to keep his voice as soft as he can, well aware that omegas can be easily startled during their heats. He's hurt her enough over the years that he wouldn't blame her for being somewhat scared of him as it is. Gently, he switches to driving one-handed so that he can place his right hand on top of Riza's head, brushing her bangs away from her sweaty face first before his fingers drift to the scent glands on one side of her neck, just beneath her left ear. They're slightly swollen and damp, and on instinct, he massages them out, only to immediately regret it when she moans so sweetly that his cock throbs again. When he speaks again, his voice comes out much lower and much more gravely than he thinks it should. "It'll be safer for us there."
She blinks up at him.
“Wait, what?”
“Well, you don’t have anyone else in mind, do you?” He asks.
“No, I just- that’s very forward of you, sir-”
He realizes what she's thinking then- that he's just propositioned her in his car, only after she's gone into her first heat. As an alpha, he knows that it looks bad and rushes to defend himself.
"No! No, I-" He stammers, shaking his head. "I didn’t mean it like that. I'd never."
He would. He so would if he felt like it were okay to do so, in a heartbeat. He would, as many times as she asked him to. She doesn't need to know that right now, though. The last thing he wants is to stress her out even more.
“Oh… Apologies, sir.”
“I meant what I said… Generally speaking,” He explains again. “You know, like you can nest with my things, and I’ll bring you food and water, make sure you’re safe. You know I can't take suppressants because of my allergy, but… I'll try my best to stay away from you."
“Oh," She says again.
Her tone is unlike anything he's ever heard from her, and impossibly difficult to interpret. At the same time, her scent of sweet vanilla goes sour like spoiled milk. Roy is kind enough not to comment on it as they pull up to his house and park, assuming that the negative scent change is just a result of the news sinking in.
“Let me help you in,” Roy turns off the car, gets out, and circles to the passenger's side, where he opens the door and pulls Riza to him. She's quiet, but lets him lead her inside his house, through the living room, and to his bedroom. “You can stay in here… Help yourself to whatever you’d like, and I’ll be on the couch.”
“Fine.”