"Do you need a hand?"
Roy Mustang tugged his black hat securely on the top of his head before slipping on his black coat that hung all the way down to his shoes. He left his military uniform folded on the chair next to his now unused hospital bed. He had asked his closest subordinate to retrieve it for him so that he could leave the next day. However, he wanted to take matters into his own hands. Still injured and in the middle of the night, no one would expect him to be walking out of here.
“Sorry, Lieutenant,” he mumbled into the darkness of the room that he shared with the blonde hair soldier. “I’m leaving you behind.” He made sure his coat was closed to hide the hospital outfit underneath it. He didn’t have anything else, but the military uniform, but that would surely get him discovered for sure. The point was to cause the least amount of attention and in the morning when the others saw his attire still in the room, they would just assume that he excused himself which would buy him more time.
He slowly pulled open the door and it was quiet all around, except for a few nurses checking the patients that needed the most care. It was easy for him to walk out without worry as the people around probably thought he was a visitor not an actual patient, although, as simple as it was to sneak by, his wound was throbbing with pain which made walking difficult.
Once cold night air hit his face and he could finally slouch, clutching his left side in pain now that he was out on the abandoned streets. “Damn it…” he hissed softly through his teeth, pressing his palm against his side as he continued trying to make his way down the sidewalk, but a voice had him stopping in his staggered footsteps once again. He didn’t bother putting on a façade of being okay, nor did he look over his shoulder toward the stranger. “Thank you ma’am, but I’ll be alright.”