"I don't mind scars," Hawkeye mumbles, clutching his coat in her closed fists.

Why didn't she bring clean sheets? Or try to clean the room beforehand? What about loose-fitting clothes? She'll have to don her turtleneck over the burns, a thought which makes her want to vomit all over again. Riza truly did not think this night through. She wanted that tattoo gone, and didn't think about the consequences of dealing with burns. That's unlike her.

But when she focuses on Roy's face as he dresses her wounds, trying not to cry out or twitch under his warm, gentle touch, she feels guilt threaten to consume her. It pools in her belly, and reaches its icy fingers up to strangle her heart. Pressure builds in her chest, and tears prick her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "You didn't deserve this."